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“ Oh! how devout and wonderfully becoming I somebody evidently thinks it Look there, at the angle o*f the pulpit. He has been staring at you these twenty minutes.” “You should teach him better manners,” Lyt answered. She did not need to raise her eyes; she was only too conscious of the dark, bright eyes that had been fastened upon her face as though they* found there heaven itself. She was glad when the notes of the opening hymn gathered such clusters of the brethren about the place as hid her from his view. Norah’s tone of railery jarred on her sense of propriety quite as much as though she had been Colonel Windsor’s wife instead of only his fiancee. Lyt had been taught that a promise was something sacred, to be held inviolable, and more faithfully kept than any written or legal obligation. Could it be possible that Mrs. Marcy was right ? that Norah, at heart, preferred Major Bethel, and so might be mind ed to be “ off wi’ the new love and on wi’ the auld.” Though her demeanor was unimpeach able throughout; though she sang in a clear contro-alto the well-known hymns, knelt at every prayer, and spoke never a word to any, I very much fear that the problems above stated interfered with Miss Canmore’s comprehension of any of the many propositions of Dr. Show’s sermon, though it was one of his very best, and in his opinion well worth the listening of any body; for Dr. Show was a man of many gifts, not the least amongst which was a lively appre- “ We’U live 'way over yonder, in Bright mansion* above; We’U reign ’way over yonder, in Bright mansions above; ’Way over yonder, in Bright mansions above.” The effect is electrical. Shouts come up from every hand; many are sobbing from sheer ex citement, or the tension of overwrought nerves; there is suspicious moisture on Mr. Inge s drooped lids; Miss Mercy is too muoh exer cised to more than remark that Carroll Maybe w is at the mourner’s bench; Mrs. Marcy looks very serious, her husband rather sleepy; Lyt stands somewhat apart, sharing the contagious enthusiasm, but making no sign of it other than the tensely clasped hands; Colonel Wind sor leans against a rude pillar, watching her from its shadow’ as intensely as though there were no singing or shouting about him. Pres ently there is a lull, and after another brief prayer, the doxology and benediction, our friends are once more in Squire Mann s tent. Mrs. Dane was there already, with Ella and Miss Lou, all three snugly ensconced in bed. “ I am an old hand,” she laughed, “and knew that the only chance of a good place to sleep was to leave early. You must do the best you can;” and indeed it seemed as though there were no best for the lingerers. “ What shall w’e do with our things?” quer- ried Norah, with her hands full ot et ceteras, after a despairing survey of matters. “ There is no place to lay them down, and we can’t wear ciation of all his others, and of himself as a ] them all night.” whole. In popular phrase, he was a “flowery j “Here,” said Lyt. opening and inverting her speaker,” and indeed, few men I have listened | parasol, “ Bella, Miss Mercy, hand over all your to had greater command or happier choice of j displaceable valuables, quick ! There now,” words. He was a reflective man; not introver- j closing it deftly over its cargo of fans, chains, sive, but mirror-like: so w T as often guilty of— j ribbons and laces, and fastening the hooked perhaps unconsciously—plagiary, with an im- handle in a knot-hole in the wall. “Don’t you mense and highly-developed personality, that I gee that necessity is the mother of invention?” sometimes came so prominently to the fore-j “So I’ve always heard,” says Norah, saucily; ground as to rather obscure Jesus Christ and I “but oh ! won’t we be frights in the morning?” Him crucified, yet gifted with zeal, address, en- I “Come over into the side room,” called good ergy, that made him more useful and popular J Mrs. Mann; “there are but six in hereto fifteen than many unquestionably his superiors in where you are,” and thither our lriends went, piety, learning and genius. His voice was mag- ! ahd slept in tolerable comfort, nificent, having the power and compass of an j Our gentlemen, with many others who pre organ peal, and the large class of revival ferred, as indeed who would not, its air to preachers who rely more upon their strength of ; that of the tents, passed the night under the lungs than of logic for their hearers’conviction; j shelter, in a sleep sound as that of the right- none ever better understood its management. ; eous, whence they were wakened at daylight by In this great crowd he was heard by all w’ho the wildly-vocal horn, and rejoining their ladies, chose to listen, but they, I am sorry to say, were I after a good breakfast, all went homeward, scarcely a majority, as some held the sermon '• Norah was charmed beyond measure with her only an abridgement of their legitimate holiday, j new’experience, and quite won the heart of Mrs. which they were bound to disregard, and others, j Mann, by the grace with which she thanked the whom their chatter kept from hearing, soon i latter for the hospitality shown her. Colonel added their own tongues to the clamor. j Windsor did not share her enthusiasm, and as The sermon over, the tents filled, and many a j they drove along even questioned that such meal was therein toilfnlly made ready. Our j places ever did real good. triends, and many likewise provident, ate a pic- j “ Yes they do,” she persisted, with a shadow dinner amid the wilderness of emptied j of a pout. “This one has, I know—incident- nic seats. There was a space of unlimited chatter, then a sharp blast from a long-throated tin horn proclaimed the three o’clock sermon, preached by the Kev. Mr. Apricot, an example of arrested clerical development, who, in his “third year,” was looked upon as the most promising man of a by no means dull conference, but who then, happening to marry rich, immediately quit growing, yet is still reverently regarded by his brethren for what he might have been. He got no mourners to the altar; though Dr. Show’s effort showed bowed and quaking forms in the audience, the impression was dissipated by Kev. Apricot’s painfully immature handling of his theme; and the crowd only laughed at the violent vigor of Kev. Mr. Hibow, the presiding elder, whose miniatory exhortation hurled over their devoted heads, as in Sinai thunders, the terrors of the law. “ I am disappointed,” said Norah. “Ithought there was a great deal of noise and excitement at camp-meeting. There has been no shouting night. Do you wish to stay ?” “ Could we ? and sleep in those funny little tents ? Oh, it would be splendid !” “We certainly can; I have had a dozen invi tations to do so. What do yon say Bella, Eliza, ally;” and then, as he seems incurious about the incidental good, there is a space of silence, while she regards intently Lyt and Major Bethel, just ahead; and after many minutes of reverie, murmurs to herself: “I am glad that quarrel is made up at last”— checking herself, suddenly—“Oh! please for get that! I was thinking aloud.” It was high noon, brilliant, blazing, uncloud ed, when they reached Elmridge, which seemed to glow’ and shimmer in the sunshine, but I think that somehow Colonel Windsor found it hardly so radiant as when he left it yesterday, under a sky that showed only faint rifts of blue—why, the reader may guess. CHAPTEK XIV. IS SOMEWHAT TEDIOUS AND EXPLANATORY. “ We are happy to announce that in addition to the distinguished orators already secured for the Grange Exhibition to-morrow, the public may expect to hear two of M’s most brilliant F. Dane. Both are so well and so favorably known hereabout, that we need not advise our people to go and hear them.” This paragraph duly appeared in the Greene- cille Chronicle, for Wednesday next preceding Lyt ? Of course the young folks and the gen- the Lineville Exhibition, and would perhaps tlemen won't object.” have swelled to yet huger proportions the crowd Neither did the ladies questioned, for the ! of that memorable occasion but for the fact that novelty, excitement and picturesque discomfort of the place had been without effect upon none. Accordingly, the gentlemen went to see after the due feeding and tethering of their horses, and the ladies to Squire Mann’s tent, where, in com pany of a score more, they washed and pow dered their faces, and smoothed their somewhat rumpled garments into a semblance of present- ability. Supper was duly eaten at the going down of the sun, and afterward, in the gather- it did not meet the eyes of one in a hundred of the Chronicle's readers imtil too late to be of force and effect, owing to the fact that through out Greene county it was a custom, which had the full force of unwritten law, to go to the post- office only on a Saturday evening, a custom which, on the strength of the station’s near con tiguity, Elmridge had grown to disregard; con sequently, Wednesday night Mr. Marcy read aloud the statement I have quoted to the party ing twilight, all the world stirred abroad to i about his supper-table, which comprised all meet and mingle with its neighbors. Then j those whose history we have followed through- lights began to gleam w’hitely from the tents, j out the last week. the shelter’s rude, rope-swung chandelier to I “Keallj’, Mr. Inge, when did you grow into glow with smoky glimmers, and the stream of I an ‘Honorable?’” Lyt said, saucily. “I thought promenaders to overflow all the most eligible ; 3-on were proud to keep intact the high distinc- seats, tor it was known to all that the preacher i tion of a private citizen.” they would hear was the Kev. Dr. Strong. ! “I am,” he said. “You don’t understand. Slight, spare and sinewy, with the kindliest of Fenton, the Chronicle editor, is the kindest- keen blue eyes and close-cut, reddish beard, what a contrast is he to the full-fed, black-haired, oleaginous Show. His voice is clear, smooth and pleasant, and he does not have to raise it to make himself heard, his voice being as dis tinct twenty yards away as at the side of the speaker. He gave up a splendid career in an other profession, constrained by the voice of God to preach His love to earth: and here there is nothing in the foreground which shall tempt thoughts or eyes from the pale Christ, yet he gives us thoughts with the glow and life of un questioned individuality, apt illustration, rea soning close, cogent and invincible, and pleads eloquently and oh ! how earnestly with sinners, that they may not let the unsearchable riches be offered in vain. And rarely is his pleading of more effect. Now, as he sinks quivering and exhausted into a seat, there is a tumultuous thrill throughout an audience thoroughly en rapport, and while prayer is made for God’s presence in spirit and in power, there are moans and cries, low sobs and loud amens throughout the kneeling throng. The hymn of invitation, “ Conte, humble sinner, in whose breast A thousand thoughts revolve; Come with your guilt and fear oppressed And make this last resolve,” hearted fellow alive, and thought I would be hurt if written plain Mr. Inge in the same para graph with General Dane and Colonel Windsor. VHonorable ’ is very handy in such cases; Stiges always uses it.” “ Then I suppose it implies only that a man has no other title ?” “ Exactly—that is, with some people. Others make the same use of Major. But plague on that scoundrel! ‘Honorable’ I can overlook; but ‘ J. Aylett ’ I will never forgive him. I say, Windsor, did you know we were going to speak? I am rather at the first of it.” “I intend to,” says that gentleman—“that is, if the people will give me a hearing.” “ What can you say ?” from Mrs. Marcy. “You aren’t a Granger, and they professedly eschew politics.” “ There are some non-political questions that urgently require ventilation—such as the call ing of the proposed Constitutional Convention, and the adoption of some measures looking to much-needed legal reforms.” “ Will you fall in with the Grange plan of reforming your legalities off the face of earth,” Mr. Inge queried gravely. “ Hardly. I shall speak equally in the inter est of the people and the, professions, between is pealing from a hundred throats on the soft j whom there is not the slightest necessary antag- night air; the flaring, flickering lights throw , onism. Our Constitution, framed some eighty weird shadows, and lend a strange unreality to all things. The altar is full of penitents, some silently sobbing, some quiet, almost apathetic, some crying aloud under the burden of sin; bending above them, with words of consolation and encouragement, are the ministers and older Christians. Hark! Clear and wild above all other sounds comes the shout of some for the time transfigured soul; another, yet another. It is those three old ladies at the corner, whose favorite niece, now clasped in their arms, has just found the way of salvation. A little, ex citable woman, who has knelt for some time be side a hopeless-looking boy of seventeen, rises at the sound and rushes to the trio with: “ Thank God! oh! thank God ! sisters. Now, brethren, sing the “Old Ship of Zion,” and let my Johnny get aboard, and I’ll be happy, hap- pee, happee!” It is sung with a will, and as it rises clear and strong there are shouts, other converts, faces shining with the light of a new life, others that seem almost to show the reflection of paradise; penitents come yet more thickly; there is prayer that might almost move a blind and dumb God; then some one raises an old, old tune, almost a l monochord, with a rude chorus that has come Mown from frontier times: years ago, is fairly outgrown, and needs essen tial modification to meet the changed condition of things. Our statute-book groans under such a weight of bungling, inadequate or ambiguous laws, framed by incompetent or corrupt legis lators, that the simplest questions of right and justice may be effectually befogged in a cloud of statutory enactments past the finding out of any jury in the State, while our courts are much nearer all they should not than all they should be.” “ Hear—hear the Hon. E. Windsor M. C., from the Sixth district.” “ You are quite mistaken. I have no such as piration—only the interest of a true citizen in the general welfare, which is grievously hurt by this state of things; and knowing the remedy to be in the people’s own hands, would persuade them to apply it. We need reform everywhere; fewer elections, which are now harrassingly frequent; very much fewer officers, with larger salaries, so that they may be—as now they are notably not —worth the acceptance of first-class men; a codification of laws that shall make them intelligible even to the non-legal mind; an exact enforcement of law against all persons; a rigid holding to account of all in places of pub lic trust, and general recognition of the princi ple that men must be chosen for high places on the ground of real fitness instead of mere pro fessions. Such government any people may have if they will, and might well be proud of. By contrast, I quite lose patience with our pres ent slip-shod, happy-go-lucky pettv-parcel-Btyle of things.” “Save that for to-morrow, Colonel; this ain’t Lineville,” Morton calls out, while Mr. Inge adds: “ Your temple of liberty is amazingly fine, but though ever %o well builded, it would not stand three years, based as it is on the quick sand of universal suffrage.” ‘ ‘That point we’ll not argue, ” retorts the Colonel. “Knowing your heresy, I will refrain from ex- i posing it before the ladies. You live some three hundred years too late. Aylett was left over, I half believe, from the last batch of feudal Grand Seigneurs.” “Why?” asks Norah. “Because he is at heart such a staunch aristo crat. ” “Why should he not be one,” says Lyt, “if that suits his temper?” “Because Democracy is the better creed, tending equally to the world’s advancement and the individual’s elevation.” “I do not like Democracy. The only person I ever saw who accepted it to the full, and con sidered himself not above or below anything or anybody, was an unmitigated nuisance. I quite agree with Mr. Inge that unrestricted suffrage is the bane of free government, as enabling the un intelligent masses to control those who are really capable of self-government. ” “But make the masses intelligent.” “How? By State education? You cannot do it. But if you attempt it, let your government be paternal, not pseudo-representative. A grand eleemosynary system providing for every want of its paupers, not citizens, or a huge tyrannical machine—like say the Prussian Empire—ever molding plastic humanity into forms for its use. To my thinking, the least governed are the best governed people.” “Truer than preaching, every word of it,” said Mr. Inge, while the rest laughingly ap plauded Miss Canmore’s eloquence, over which she herself blushed a little, and which, while it was very far from convincing Col. Windsor of the error of his way, or maybe did not even make him firmer in his belief, yet did not inspire in his legal soul the disgust one might have expect ed considering his opinion—expressed in chap ter 1st—of such performances, which said opin ion was nowise altered, but like laws in time of war, held in abeyance by a superior force. Lyt was on the piazza, watching the slender new moon, just trembling above the horizon. Mr. Inge came leisurely out, and seated himself on the steps at her feet, saying as he lighted a cigar, “I know without asking, I may smoke.” Then, after a few meditative puff's, “Do you know I mean you shall go with me to-morrow ?” “No,”?Lytsaid slowly, “how came you to pur pose such a thing ?” “Well, lam fond of doing good, and knew the arrangement would make two people happy.” “ Indeed ? Who are they ?” “Myself and Miss Mercy.” “Why! What has she to do with it?” “Only this: Bethel takes Miss Norah, you go with me, Windsor per force takes her, as he would not be so impolite, not to say hard-heart ed, as to lift eyes to Miss Estill or Miss Ella Dane.” “I wonder what he thinks of what I said to him at supper!” “Do you care much?” “Yes, a good deal. One does not often meet a man possessing so many really fine qualities, and if he will let me, I mean to like him very cordially. ” “ ’Shouldn’t think he would object. Does he try to prevent it?” “No—that is—not designedly, I think.” “ He is a fine fellow, though a little too fault less to be thoroughly likeable.” “I see you retain your antipathy to perfec tion.” “ Always shall. Windsor and I would be the best of friends, if he would only make a fevrfaux pas.” “ Then La Rochefoucauld was right in say ing ‘Weare always glad to see others brought to our own level.’” “Precisely. I don’t mean, though, that I want him to do anything wrong or wicked, or that would get him into trouble, but only to make some of those annoying little blunders that are always overturning the best-laid schemes of the rest of us. He infallibly does the right thing at the right time, in the right place, whether his aim is to win an election, convince a judge or jury, or flatter a woman.” “What is his purpose in staying so long in this region ? Something beyond mere friendli ness, I am sure.” “ Motives, even for our simplest actions, are very complex things. Why do you suppose I came out here ?” “Well, let me see. Primarily to smoke that cigar, secondarily to see the new moon, inci dentally, perhaps, to tell me of the arrangements for to-morrow. ” “And mainly and chiefly?” “ I can think of nothing more considerable than what I have named.” “ Mainly and chiefly to tell you that—I love you.” ‘ ‘ Mr. Inge!” “And to ask, will you marry me?” The words were very quietly spoken, but with an undertone of tremor that gave them a terrible earnestness. Not the most glowing raptures that ever fell from the lips of love could have so touched Lyt as the simple eloquence of this avowal, which sought no disguise, made no feint attack, but spoke bravely, frankly, candidly the honorable purpose of an honorable man. There was silence for some minutes—not that she was engaged, as ladies phrase it, in “ making up her mind,” for though genuinely surprised at this transmutation of a long-time friend into an eli gible lover, her instincts were too quick and fine to leave an instant’s doubt as to what must be her answer, but that she was striving for self- command that should enable her to say what must be said as briefly and as delicately as pos sible. “I am waiting very impatiently,” he said at last, taking a passive hand between both his own. It was not withdrawn, but trembled very much in his clasp as she said, scarce above her hard- hurried breath: “Please forget what you said, and—and—be my friend—still.” “ As I can be nothing more. Well, Lyt, God bless you always and any way,” with a little deepening of the husky tremor, and a close pressure of the hand that freed itself gently, to be clasped with its fellow over the face, now over run with very pitiful tears. He got up and stood beside her, lightly touching the bowed head, saying very tenderly: “ Don’t cry, darling; I know you are sorry for me, but the headache it will give you will not do my heartache the least bit of good. You are not to blame for—for—not—loving me. Go dry your eyes, and be ready to sing for me after aV After which Lyt went away almost sobbing, and Mr. Aylett Inge sat down again and lit an other cigar, which he puffed furiously for awhile, but which then changed its fitful glow for ashen greyness, and at last went out altogether, as that gentleman studied intervals of constellation and milky-way, and mused on life and things in a very different vein to what the world would have expected of a man in his position—the j Mr. Griffith, I think there is agood opportuni y world which held him equally a scoffer at all of testing, some friends of mine. Does any one holy things, a mocker at all love, whereas I have j in Arborville know this ? ,, . never known a man with more real reverence or j “ No one except a young man who guided me tenderness for all things deserving them. This j here, and I wish to guard you against him. He world would have said, had it sat in judgment j actually desired me not to tell you that any one on our friend just now, that all the hurt he had j except myself was aware of your charged cir- got in the late encounter was to his pride, which 1 cumstances, when he left me at your gate, was chafed by the acknowledgment that he, the “Mr. Agnew !” exclaimed Berry, undeniably wealthy, well-bred, well-looking and J But Mr. Griffith did not know his name, and notably fastidious, had been rejected of any woman, and would also, perhaps, have agreed that he was justly piqued; but I, his faithful chronicler, who know him infinitely better, do record that he sat on the steps, and studied the stars, with a keen pain at his heart, a most dis comforting sense of loss and isolation, yet with no other feeling for the woman who had dealt him this blow than the reverential tenderness his words had shown. His hurt was sore, yet he had a kind of grim satisfaction in probing its depths and philosophizing to himself about it. He was not going to die about it (who ever did ?) nor did he even think the pain would endure for ever; perhaps in a few weeks, or, utmost, months, it would be quite gone and forgotten; but now he felt as though life had lost its charm—worse, indeed, than when, at the age of nineteen, he had been thrown over by Miss Belle Looney for after a little more conversation, he presented her with a check for five hundred dollars, and took his leave. She ran up-stairs, into her aunt's room, exclaiming: “Oh, Aunt Huldah ! Aunt Huldah, look here! You shall have anew stove, a large house, and everything else you want.” The next evening, Junius Agnew, faultlessly attired, presented himself at Mrs. Arkwright’s door, and was admitted into the sitting-room, where Berenice sat sewing. The room already bore marks of the changed fortune of its in mates; a sewing machine, with its mahogany cover thrown back, occupied one corner, and the hyacinths, on the mantel, which had formerly been accommodated in cracked wine-glasses, were blossoming afresh in rosy, transparent bulb-glasses. “ Good-morning, Miss Berry,” with a proffer rich, red-faced Judge McDaggart. Youth's air- | of his hand, which the unsophisticated girl cushion of conceit broke the force of that tall still he would get over it, and until he did, as much for her sake as for his own, the rest m ust not see how hardly he had been hit. So he went indoors, and taking Mr. Marey’s hand at euchre, was outrageously complimentary to his partner, Miss Mercy, and aggravntingly civil to his adversaries, Norah and Major Bethel, against whom there was a perpetual run of ill luck. (TO BE CONTINUED.) [for The Sunuy South.] Berenice Leslie’s Fortune. BY ZOE ZENITH. Lawyer Griffith got off the train at Arborville half-reluctantly, and, turning his coat collar above his ears, started down the sleet-paved avenue dignified by the title of Main street. Though it had been only two hours since he quitted his comfortable office in Richmond, it had been time enough to convince him that ease-loving gentlemen of fifty-seven should not travel in December. “I wish,” quoth he, fervently though inter nally, “that old Aaron Leslie had put off his dinner until next summer—May, at least. Hal lo ! Beg pardon, sir, or rather, I think you’d better ask mine.” A sudden slide upon the icy sidewalk had precipitated him upon a gentleman who was, except himself, the sole pedestrian in the street. In turn, the lawyer received a shove which pro pelled him in the opposite direction, until he brought up against somebody’s yard palings. “Excuse me,” said Junius Agnew, after a second’s scrutiny of the well muffled old gentle man. “ I was not at first aware that you are my senior.” “ You need not have given your senior such a push. Hope you’ll make amends by guiding me to a fire. Are you acquainted with the high ways and by-ways of this abominable town ?” “Its local denomination is Arborville,” re sponded Mr. Agnew. “ I have the honor of being one of its citizens. ’ “No great honor,” growled the half-frozen non-resident. “Can you tell me where to find Miss Berenice Leslie ?” “Who? Little Berry Leslie? About half a mile from here. I am going in that direction, and will show you the house. May I ask if you are a relative of hers ?” with a touch of anxiety. “Not the slightest. Do you know anything about her circumstances?” “ She’s extremely poor. Mrs. Leslie received a small annuity trom an uncle, grandfather, or somebody, but it ceased at her death, and Berry is living with an aunt—Mrs. Arkwright.” “You seem to know her quite intimately.” could not help seeing. “ How fortunate I am to meet with a cordial reception ! I was afraid yon had concluded that your friends had for gotten you. Important business and a trip to Richmond have prevented my seeing yon for several weeks.” “No, Mr. Agnew, I had not yet reached that conclusion. Some of my former friends have been kind enough to remember me.” “ Myself among the number, although I have not seen you. But how beautiful are these flowers! Will you accept a few which I bring from my sister ?” Now, as Miss Agnew had publicly cut Miss Leslie j ust after her mother’s death, she accepted the exquisite floral tribute with rather a bad grace. “I am very grateful to her. Mr. Agnew, don’t you intend congratulating me upon my unexpected inheritance?” Junius put on an excellent mask of astonish ment. “Congratulate? Please, Miss Berry, explain yourself.” “Excuse me, Mr. Agnew, but—do you know Mr. Griffith?” “I never, to my knowledge, met a gentleman of that name.” Berry was really astonished. She hesitated, and then said briefly: “He is my guardian, by the will of my grand father, who has left me his estate.” “I offer you my sincere congratulations, Miss Berry, but forgive me for saying that, for my own sake, I am sorry.” This was said so blandly that her suspicions returned like a flash. “ Why?” she asked concisely. Mr. Agnew dropped gracefully into a chair beside her, and said eloquently: “Because I fear the imputation of mercenary motives when I seek your hand. Because I came here to-day to tell you that I love you; to ask permission to share my affluence with one who can more than repay me.” She snatched her fingers from his clasp and rose. “Mr. Agnew, can you positively and truly aver that you came here considering me penniless?” He rose also, stammering, but recovering him self, exclaimed: “Oh, Berenice! how can you be so unjust? Believe me, that I love you only.” “No, Mr. Agnew, I must believe what you dare not deny. If it be true, excuse me for the doubt. I am compelled to ask you to forget me. Good-morning.” The following day was Christmas Eve. Lawyer Griffith sat in his office writing rap idly. It was undoubtedly a model office. The great arm-chairs were models of comfort and luxury; a cheery anthracite fire burned in a “Well, yes; quite a friend in a charitable way, j large Franklin stove; the ponderous law-books ^ood family, but she doesn’t you know. It’s a go into society. “She will, in future. She has become an heiress.” They were at a corner. J unius Agnew stopped short, looked up and down the angle, and then stared at his companion as if he were the Sphynx. “ Berenice Leslie ! You must be mistaken.” “ Not at all, sir. But I can’t stand in this slippery place talking. Lead the way, if you please.” “ Certainly. Excuse me, but—how did it happen ? Does she know it ?” “ The grandfather you spoke of died three days ago. She knows nothing of it. But you seem to be deeply interested.” “ I am a friend of the family, as I told you.” “She will have no further occasion for chari ty,” said the lawyer, dryly, feeling pretty cer tain that she would not object to his spreading the news. Junius Agnew colored and bit his lip, laying his hand hesitatingly on the latch of a small gate which led to a story and a half cottage. “Please excuse that remark. I regret it ex ceedingly. Sir, will you do me a small favor, which will cost you nothing ?” “Humph ! That depends upon what it is. I never grunt favors in the dark. ” “Merely that you will not let Miss Leslie know that you have told me of these facts.” “I could not, if I chose. I have not the pleasure of knowing your name.” “ X'imporle. You need not tell her that any person, except yourself, knows the terms of the will. Let her have the pleasure of telling the news. ” “ Without knowing that I have forestalled her? I believe I must bid you good-morning here.” “ One moment: Are you the custodian of her estate ?” “ She comes into possession at eighteen. Either let me pass, or call the coroner—I am freezing!” “I beg pardon for detaining you. The fam ily is at home. Good-morning.” “Berry,” said Aunt Huldah Arkwright, “ there’s some one at the gate.” Berry peeped through one of the narrow, dormer windows. “It’s Mr. Agnew, I declare, and a stranger with him.” “ Well, change your dress and go down-stairs. If it’s an insurance agent or a lightning-rod man, tell him I’m engaged.” In the meantime, lawyer Griffith knocked rather loudly at the front door. It was opened by a little negro, who ushered him into a tiny but neat sitting-room, warmed by a splendid wood-fire. “Is Miss Berenice Leslie at home?” The young lady entered as he spoke; a slender, graceful girl, with gold-brown hair, velvety-blue eyes, perfect mouth, and archly-sweet expres sion—a veritable Titania, dressed in gray chintz, trimmed with bright, contrasting plaid. The lawyer proffered his card with a Chester- fieldian bow. “ Miss Leslie, I believe ? I wish to see you on important business.” It did not take long, under the genial influence of that glowing fire, to inform Miss Berry of her sudden accession of fortune, and also that he was to be her guardian until she concluded her eighteenth year, i. e., for the next three months. Eighty thousand dollars ! The mag nitude of the sum almost took her breath away at fiist, but presently she said, simply: “ I don’t know whether I am glad or sorry. were neatly arranged in handsome walnut book cases, and over the desk hung, in massive frames, portraits of Coke, Blackstone, Patrick Henry and Edward Everett. “I wish,” he muttered half-aloud; “I wish Jonas Sneed had deferred making his will until after Christmas. I'm tempted to turn it over to some luckless wight who wouldn’t mind the season. Scipio, you scamp, what are you inter rupting me for ? I can’t see clients on Christ mas Eve.” “Please, sir,” said the factotum of the office, “ it's a lady, sir, and she says she didn’t come on business.” “Oh! well, show her in,” and Scipio threw open the door to Miss Berenice Leslie, as beau tiful a visitor as ever a lawyer received. She wore a walking-dress of gray serge, with a car dinal cape of richest crimson, and a bird of the same hue nestled among the ostrich feathers on her gray felt hat. “ Miss Berenice, my dear ward, what can have brought you to Richmond ? No legal ad vice needed, I hope ?” “Not a legal matter at all, Mr. Griffith. I only came to ask you a question.” “ Quite a journey for that purpose. However, proceed with your interrogatives as if we had changed characters and I was in the witness- box. Take a chair first.” But notwithstanding the permission to be as inquisitive as she chose, Miss Berenice seemed to have lost all her curiosity. Her tongue grew as stammering as that of Demosthenes, and her color deepened to a vivid carnation. At length, she asked desperately. “ Do you remember warning me against Mr. Agnew ?” “Certainly. I hope he doesn’t intend chal lenging me for doing so. ” “ He came next day and addressed me, and I dismissed him because he couldn’t deny that he had heard about my late legacy. The same day I received a letter from Richmond, from Mr. George Ashley, and,” faltering, “he asked me to be his wife. I have not yet answered him, because I wanted to find out whether he too knew that I was no longer poor. Aunt ad vised me to come and ask you.” After which speech, well-interspersed with blushes, she caught her breath, and with droop ing head awaited Mr. Griffith’s answer. “ Hem ! Mr. George Ashley !” he said, mus ingly. “And who is he? — another fortune- hunter ?” “ He is a gentleman, sir,” said Berenice, in dignantly. “ Honest and true; above all sus picion of being a fortune-hunter. ” “But, little girl, if you have already formed your opinion of this young gentleman, whv come to me for advice ? When judge and de fendant are identical, it is useless for opposing counsel to attempt convincing them.” “ Especially when you have no arguments,” she put in, triumphantly. “Very true. And now I will give you my opinion of the case in point. George Ashley is well known to me. He deserves the high char acter which you have given him. He cannot possibly be aware of the contents of your grand father’s will; they are known only to myself and two witnesses, both of whom are strangers to him. Is that sufficient ? But you are not going back to Arborville to-day ?” 0 “ I must—Auntie is expecting me.” But Mr. Ashley, whom Mrs. Arkwright was not expecting, went down on the same train, and the consequence of all was, that lawyer Griffith visited Arborville the ensuing March to give away his pretty ward.