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SOUTH
Hcmale ©ossip.
Fancy draperies of Spanish lace are selected
by ladies for the outdoor nae at the watering
places.
'Jack, yonr wife is not so pensive as she used
to be.' ‘No, she has left that off and tnrned ex
pensive.’
White embroidered mull muslin ties and lace-
tipped muslin ties are universally worn in the
dcmi-toilette.
A San Francisco woman calls her husband
‘darkest hour,’ because be comes just before
the dawn.
Miss Caroline Laura Bice, at the age of 20,
has just graduated from Wesleyan University
at the head of a large class of young men.
Mrs. Godfrey, the widow whose name was
connected with that of Congressman Acklin, in
Washington, a year ago, has gone to London to
set up as a professional beauty.
Hamburg edging of a rich pattern, with all
the ground, or muslin, cut away, is usea for
stripping the tabliers of pongee dresses and
dresses of other monochrome materials.
•Take away women,’ says a writer, ‘and what
would follow ?’ We would; give us something
harder next time.
Daintv Swiss ties for ladies are finished on
the ends with colored guipure embroidery.
Plain and sprigged muslin dresses are gar
nished with drooping bows of white satin rib
bon.
An Oswego woman fell out of a fourth story
windowithe other day, and the first thing she
said alter coming to her senses was to wish that
she had on her new silk hose instead of those
old cotton stockings.
A widew from Coffee county, Ala., has been
preaching to a large congregation at Mt. Her-
mon Church, near Grovella, Ala.
Nearly all the newest costumes, either for the
street or home wear, are made with the square
neck corsage, with the corsage a la Vierge or
V-shape, filled with full plaitings of lace or
crepe lisse.
Ganze delaine is one of the most popular ma
terials of thet summer, taking the place almost
entirely of the wiry buntings. It is soft and
fine in texture, and , is admirably suited for
summer wear.
A favorite way of wearing the broad sash so
popular at present is to place ii around the
waist to foim a belt, and to tie it carelessly on
the left in a large, loose knot.
If you are about to be married you need six
bridesmaids, who will walk in couples, each
two dressed exactly alike and differently from
the rest. That is the highest mode.
Some men are captivated by a woman’s laugh,
just as some men predict a pleasant day because
the sun shines out clear for a moment. They
forget the chance for squalls.
1 be Princess of Wales* fashion of wearing a
fiower on the neck frill of her dresses close to
the left ear is being imitated by all of the Paris
ladies.
At Cape May. Young lady to friend from the
country, just anived: ‘And how many parasols
have von. mvdtar?’ ‘Parasols? One, to be
sure.’ * ‘Ob! that won’t do at all. I’ve twenty,
one for each costume. We’ll look over your
dresses in the morning, and then send lo
city. Indeed, my dear, it would be no u .e to
stay here otherwise.’
r A handsome, sweetly-dressed, refined, and al
together captivating young man, who has been
dancing with half the belles of New Orleans, has
turned out to be a cook.
“The conundrum tournament is the newest
fashionable game at the West End. A beauty
of photographic celebrity bore away the bell the
other night bv a rather neat interrogatory, viz:
•Who made the first egg stand?’ The answer,
which puzzled the guessing circle, was simple,
nevertheless— Christopher Columbus.
Mrs. Prcudflesb, whose husband formerly
drove an ice-wagon, says Mr. P. is an ex-ice
man. And she says it coolly, too.
The Polonaise reappears this season under
the name of matinee, and is welcomed by the
ladies with great satisfaction. It is short and
bunchy in shape.
■At wbat age were you married?’asked she, in
quisitively. But the other was equal to the
emergency and quickly responded: ‘At the par
sonage.’’
The wide belts so fashionable at present are
often made of the material of tbe dress com
bined with the trimmipg, and the chatelaine
bag is also made of the same stuff.
•Why do you use paint?’ asked a violinist of
bis daughter. For tbe same reason that you
use rosin, papa,’ ‘How is that?’ ‘Why to help
me draw my beau.’
Fashionable ladies wear velvet wristlets du
ring tbe day, and only display handsome brace
lets in the evening.
Many fashionable dresses are made with the
fan waist in favor many years ago and so be
coming to slender figures.
£ Miss Alice Winston, of Virginia, says: ‘I think
wemen are mere apt to be enfluenced by mon
ey than men are. Therefore, they are more
likely to marry for wealth than men.’
The N. Y., si atine rink s almost as large as
Gilmore’s Garden.JWeoftinsee a hundred belles
snd beaux curling around tbe room on roller
skatse. Tbe young gentlemen all like to skate,
ss during the process they are allowed to hold
the hands of the young ladieB.
Many ladies here have appeared in new toi-
b ft< s daily for the last three weeks. The most
si ccesslu) toilettes are those made of simple
white material. To-day I saw in the States par
lor a plain white French bunting, cut princess,
with plain lpce sleeves, and made without a sin
gle 1 nek, puff or frill. The skirt bung grace
fully in kilt plaits and hugged tbe form. The
only decoration was a white satin scarf; and
ibis simple toilette wasfpronounced ‘the sweet-
<ft toilette seen ini Saratoga this season.’ Of
e< nlae there have been costlier toilettes—tor
<hi.-. toilette could be made for twenty-five dol
lars—but none have looked better.—-Saratoga
Correspondent. pw-— ; p
A young lady may come with one black silk,
cne pique and” three bunting dresses—white,
pink and blue, with white, pink and blue sash
es to match them—and with these simple and
inexpensive toilettes outshine the richest young
ladies at Saratoga, decked as they are in their
ponderous satin and gros grain toilettes. Neat
ness and simplicity are the by-words there.
A lady, who was in the habit of spending a
large'portion of her time in the society of her
neighbors, happened one day to be taken sud
denly ill, and sent her husband in great haste
for a physician. The husband ran a few rods,
but soon returned, exclaiming; “My dear, where
shall 1 find yon when I get back :"
domestic utters.
Tbt it.—Sour milk removes iron rust from
white goods.
Fine Sponge Cake.—To the yolks of six eggs,
well beaten, add three-quarters of a pound of
powdered white sugar, juice of one lemon, half
pound of floor, having in it, well mixed, one
teaspoonful of soda and two of cream of tartar,
and then add tbe whites of six eggs, well beaten.
How to Preserve Peabs. —Pare and out twelve
pears into halves, leave the s alks on. and oore;
place in a baking jar, and add to them the rind
of one lemon, cut in strips, the juice of half a
lemon six cloves, ten allspice, sufficient water
just to’cover the whole ; to (very pint of water
allow a pound of loaf sugar , to be baked in a
very cool oven until done. They will take at
least six hours. The more Bteadily they are
done, the better. To improve the color of the
fruit a few drops of prepared cochineal may be
added.
Blackberry Vinegab.—One quart of black
berries to one of sharp vinegar. Let them stand
a day. Squeeze out the juice. Add to this, two
days in succession, as much fruit as the vinegar
will hold, each time pressing out the juice. To
each quart of the vinegar thus prepared, put two
pounds of sugar, and boil about ten minutes.
When cool, bottle and seal. This will be found
a pleasant beverage in hot weather, when mixed
in tbe proportions of two-thirds water to one-
third of the syrup.
To Bottle Green Gooseeebries. Cut off the
tops and stalks, and put them in wide mouthed
bottles, which have been washed and dried;
cork them tightly and set them in a pan of cold
water ; put it over the fire and let it remain till
it boils. The berries should not be suffered to
break. Wipe tbe bottles and put in a dry place ;
they will keep a year.
Bead This, Girls.- Learr. to darn stockings
neatly, and see that your own are in order.
Don’t let a button be iff your shoes a minute
longer than needed. It takes just about a min
ute to sew one on, and oh how much neater a
foot looks in a trimly buttoned boot than it does
in a lop Bided affair with hall the buttons off.
Every girl should learn to make the simpler ar
ticles ol clothing, and we know a little girl of
seven who could do all of tLis and also make the
whole of a blue calico dress lor herself, and piec
ed a large bedquilt. She w as not an overtaxed
child either, but a merry, romping indulged,
only daughter. But she was ‘smart, and she
did not di9 young either. Indeed we have
seldom known children 'too i-mart to live.’ Yery
few ever die of that compls nt, whatever their
grandmothers may think. So never be afraid
a bit of over doing the business. Help all you
can, and study over the btirineas daily. Once
get in the habit of looking over your things, a-:d
you will like it wonderfully. You will have the
independent feeling that you need not wait for
anyone's convenience in repairing and making,
but that you can be beforehand with all such
matters. The relief to your we;.ry mother will
be more than yon oan estimate.
Fish Fritters.—'Take the reli-..ins of any fish
which has been served the preceding day ; re
move all of the bones, and mince fine; add
equal quantities of bread crumbs and mashed
potatoes ; stir in two beaten eggs ; season with
pepper and salt; add enough cream to u akethe
mass of the proper consistency to mould into lit
tle balls, and fry them in boiling lard.
Scalloped Tomatoes.—Peel and cut in slices
one-fourth of an inch think ; pack in a pudding
diet/, in alternate layers with foioeiueat made ot
bread crumbs, butter, salt, pepper, and a little
white sugar, spread thickly on each layer of to
matoes, and when the dish is nearly lull put to
matoes uppermost, a good bit of butter on each
slice. Dust with pepper and a little sugar.
Strew with dry biead crumbs and bake covered
half an hour. Be move the lid and then bake
brown.
Uotrs of Tvauel.
Immense heids of elephants have been dis
covered at the head waters of the Saguna river
on the west coast of Africa.
Lands in Talladega, Ala., r.fter over forty years
of cultivation, produce fine crops without the
use of fertilizers.
The exhibition building in Cincinnati will
cost a million dollars when finished. It will
open on the 10th of September.
A tourist wardering through the burial-places
in the region ol the WLite Mountains has cull
ed these names from the monuments. They
seem to represent the newer tendencies in no
menclature of the people :— Bomanzo, Theda,
Diademia, Coral, Smilinua, Theodate, Mitty,
Bozill, Lima, Orio, Elmon, Ede, Irena, Ora,
Phene, Arozina, Yesta, Mudoe a.
The statistics of ocean steamer travel for forty
years show an average lo-s of lito by shipwreck
and other disasters of 1C5 a year, the aggregate
being 6 501. The whole numler of steamers
upon which occurred the casualities is 145 ; of
which never were heard of alter leaving port,
26 ; wrecked on coasts, 80 ; foe dered at sea, 6 ;
sunk at sea, 6 ; abandoned, 8 ; < y collision with
icebergs, 3 ; collision with oihtx vessels, 4 ; cap-
sizd, 1 ; burned, 11.
Historical |totcs.
DELAMERE;
Corinne tme Sphynx!
-Mr
BY rAUI j' LE SUEUR.
ch^Riii.
As they sat face 3 e - oonversing after Har
ry Wilmot bad in o r f$>«tudiedly careless way,
oarried off Miss D etje
ty of observing tb* It
told was his conrf£ F
her* at that. Mr.
yonr interest It w* e
too serious and sad t
tawny beard and ligt r
activity, except when '
brooded in them,
;ilryc had an opportuni-
whom he had just been
nee, and ‘too good for
file's face grew npon
ly, earnest, somewhat
aps, a Saxon face with
ue eyes, fall of fire and
»t shadow of melancholy
ben, at times, a look al
Tbe first iron manufacturer n> tin.- country
was James Leonard, whose worl s were located
at Baynham, Mnss.|
When Lafayette received biB cemmissior as a
general in the United States an.iy, on July,
1777, he was not yet twenty years oi age !
Aaron Burr at the age ot twent' jrr-s wes a
common soldier in the Continental tr-rks. a f ‘er-
wards rising to be Vice-President ol the United
States.
The Standish Guards of Plymouth, ' :
are an old organization. Our fello^ , '-'' z«r\ i
Sidney Bartlett, joined the corps in 18IJ, -in; 1
is its oldest living member.
Louis IX., or St Louis, King of France, w?c
born in PoisBy, Ayril 25, 1215 and succeed' <■
bis father Lcuia VIII., in 1226. His mothei
was regent during his minority. |
On June 1, 17t,‘4. Admiral Lord Howe, the fa- |
mous English commander, gained a decisive}
victory over the French fleet, of which he cap- ;
tured seven ships of the line.
most fiereeand defiant^ ashed from their depths.
But the prevailing e^nession was frank and
prepossessing, bis mail lers too were quiet and
winning, and Eryo saif to himself, that that lit
tle tricksy spirit bis * ‘usin Corinne, might do
worse than to give he Ailf to such a man.
After a short time s'ffcnt in talking upon in
different and general topios, they were appeal
ed to by Miss Ethmerifpon some subject which
had arisen between h^ companion and herself,
and were thus drawn' in contact with them.
Pretty soon afterward, Mr. Gleuville left the
room. Bemembering the initiatory remarks of
Henry Wilmot ns to the character and circum
stances of Col. Fenton, who now sat opposite
him beside Diana Ethmer, Eryc stole occa-ional
glances toward him to penetrate to someertent,
if possible, the little cloud of mystery in which
Mr. Wilmot’s words had enshrouded him. Noth
ing could be gleaned from his face, either to
prepossess or repel the beholder, but with the
aid of his imagination and of the knowledge
which had been imparted to him, Eryo thought
that the smile which was ever ready upon his
thin, sarcastic lip was forced and meaningless,
and that beneath his thick and shaggy brows
there lurked an expulsion of suspicious, rest
less cunning. The {(semblance, which at first
he thought existed Between this man and Mr.
Glenville, he could not exactly explain, and,
as his acquaintance with him progressed, it
seemid to fade away entirely. His conversation
was interesting and agreeable, and his manner
possessed something graceful and fascinating,
despite the unpleasant glitter of a pair of dark
and serpent-like eyes. He soanned Eryc nar
rowly during the first two or three minutes af
ter his approach, but not in a manner rude or
calculated to attract attention. Eryo’s eye was
of that peculiar intenseness which seems to be
looking through, instead of upou the surface of
a thing, and once when it thus rested upon his
vis-a-vis, their eyes met questioniogly. Eryo
gave a little shrug of his shoulders—a frequent
and involuntary habit with him—and with an
amused and careless smile muttered under his
breath:
‘May be something wrong here, but it is no
affair of mine.’
Colonel Fenton did not remain long in the
room after this, but, with some excuse, arose and
walked out into the hall, leaving Eryc alone
with Diana. i
Eryc, as he bad laughingly said on the day of
his arrival at Delamere, did not belong to the
Order Susceptible, and he bad unconsciously
steeled himself against the charms of Miss Eth
mer. But in spite of his efforts he listened and
spoke to her with more than usual earnestness,
and when her fine g»y eyes, encountering the
look of arlmirB.tLfcq lAB’g nwn would drop sud-.
denly dowuwarf, hW felt that he might linger
with delight in he* Jjresence indefinitely. But
still regarding her un the light of a passing ac
quaintance, whom; a few short weeks over, he
should never see again, he did not endeavor by
any exhibition of superior learning or conver
sational eloquence, to captivate her fancy or
challenge her admiration, but spoke simply aud
naturally aud in a manner to convince his fair
hearer that, though possessing an extensive
knowledge of books and a clear insight into hu
man nature, he had neither been rendered vain
by the one nor cynical by the other. A little
incident, which served to put him upon a more
intimate footing with her in the very outset of
their acquaintance happened iu the follow
ing manner. It chanced that in the conver
sation which ensued between them after Colo
nel Fenton's departure, reference was made to
a certain passage in one of the poets, of the
wording of wnich some doubt was entertained,
and in order to satisfy herself, Diana arose and
brought from another room a book containing
the quotation iu question. After hunting out
tbe troublesome passage, she sat, as she contin
ued talking, toying with tbe leaves of the vol
ume which she held upon her lap. A slip of
paper whioh had been lying concealed between
the pages of the book fluttered out and fell at
Eryc's feet. It contained some six or seven
stanzas of poetry, cut evidently from a periodic
al of recent date, and without looking particu
larly at it further than to observe that it had
verses upon it, he handed it carelessly back to
her and continued speaking. As she took it in
her hand and ran her eyes over it she exclaimed
suddenly and in a voice of pleased surprise:
■How fortunate ! X am glad to find this piece
again. I was very much struck with its beauty
some time since, so I cut it out and put it away,
but had forgotten where. Flease read it aud
tell me if I show good taste in admiring it.’
She gave it back to him, and as he read the
verses oyer, she looked at him to note the ef
fect. The caption of the pieoe was startlingly
familiar to Eryc, and as his eye ran over the
first line, a sense of delicious triumph stole over
him. He remembered theD, how, as a student
in college a short time ago, a very short time
ago it seemed now, he had sought in spite of
the poverty which, at that time had come sud
denly and unexpectedly upon him,to prolong his
btay,by literary effusions, written within tbe halls
of his Alma Mater. He remembered also, how
in an hour of doubt and gloom and despond
ency, when all his youthful hopes seemed with-
• ring, he had first composed the verses which,
t v the present coincidence, were brought again
i > lure him; and, that they should have pleased
ihe taste of the beautiful and gifted young creat
ure v. ho now curiously watched the changing
expressions upon his countenance, afforded him
luu.e gratification than he had ever thought
couut emanate from so humble a source.
•A.e you very fond of poetry, Miss Ethmer?’
he asked, determined without revealing himself
.o n j .y his triumph -')S the utmost.
•Not exceedingly ’ she answered, evident
ly on-appointed at aMeult different from what
she L. it anticipated. \ I think if the greater part
ot wl. t is t o called could be blotted out and
forgot ini: would be better for our literature
Tbe idea of complete separation from Eng- j aud i n readers.’
~ ' *Au>. ;io you really think these verses then are
worthy i f notice?’ continued Eryo.
She l. ised her eyes wonderingly to his face
at the e»> nestness of his question, and said:
'Perhaps, sir, my taste is not so well or bo
highly cultivated as yours. In my poor judge
ment they are very beautiful and very simple—
so different from the trashy, ephemeral poetry
now in vogue.’
T do not pretend to any taste in suoh matters,'
Eryo rejoined, ‘and that perhaps may be the
reason why I cannot praise this effusion as you
do.’
‘Ah, you are very practically inclined, I pre
sume,’ said Diana, ‘and have therefore no sym
pathy or patience with the dreamy Bentimental-
land originated in North Carolina, while Con
gress was inclined to make a last appeal, be
fore deciding upon so radical a measure.
Some historians have attempted to trace the
ten lest tribes of Israel, who were conquered by
Shalmaneser, king of Assyria, about 700 years
before Christ.
While the British held posse ssion of New
York Sept 20, 1776, a fire broke out in the city,
whioh was not arrested until 493 buildings, in-
clnding Trinity Church, were consumed.
KThe ancient house in whioh Nell Gwynn used
to live in London, in 1680, has been converted
into a hospital. Here was where Charles II.
first became intimate with the ex-actress.
ism of poetry. Do you know that I feel a strong
inclination to know the author of this piece?
Tbe desire is strange, I know, and by some of
practical turn may be oonsidered foolish; but
ever since I have read it I have wished to know
its author and to converse with him.’
•Your desire is certainly very flittering to him,’
said Eryc. ‘As you seem to have so good an
opinion of him, will you favor me with your
idea as to what kind ef a person he may be ?’
‘He was young,’ retorted she meditatively,
‘and of a noble and melancholy temperament;
wretched, perhaps, and alone in the world, feel
ing keenly a longing for sympathy and compan
ionship, as the stanzas you hold in your hand
amply testify,'
‘I am well acquainted with him,' said Eryc,
‘and though he may be lonely and wretched, 1
oannot say much more in favor of him.’
‘Do you know him really ?’ asked Diana, be
ginning to experience some regret at the ardor
of the praise she had bestowed upon the Ua-
known, her countenance evincing, however,
something of gladness and surprise.
•Perfectly well,’ answered Eryc. T am one of
his best friends, or, it may be, one of hiB worst
enemies.’
She raised her eyes to his face again with a
look of questioning and of wonder iu them.
Finally she rejoined with a laugh:
‘Explain your riddle, sir; I give it up; but is
he not a fine character?'
‘I think very well of him sometimes,’ an
swered Eryc, ‘but I do not know what ethers
think of him.'
‘Perhaps, then, I have bestowed my encomi
ums upon one who is unworthy of them,’ said
Diana.
‘Unworthy he may be,’ responded Eryc mean-
ingly, ‘but he more highly appreciates them
than any praise that ever ere this was uttered
in his hearing.’
She glanced uneasily at him, then divining
the fact that the person whom she had s j un
hesitatingly and unwittingly praised and whom
she had declared herself as desiring so strongly
to see, was verily before her. she blushed deip
lv at the remembrance of her own warmth and
remained for a moment silent.
‘In other words, Miss Ethmer,’ continued
Eryc, ‘I am a happy recipient of your unmerit
ed praise, aud I beg you will pardon me that I
did not reveal myself at once.’
‘It was only my obtuseness,’ she responded,
laughing once more, ‘that prevented me from
discovering you some time ago, Y’ou ses I am
not good at guessing riddles as I told you be
fore, 1 but the blush still lingered upon her fair
cheeks bewitchingly.
‘And now that you have found out my secret,
I must beg you to keep it, ‘ requested Eryc, who
had a natural horror of the notoriety to which
the pretense of being a poet might give rise. At
this juncture Harry Wilmot, whom Eryc had
not seen in Borne time, entered the room with
an unsteady gait. It was very evident that he
had drank more than was his custom, for, com
ing forward he laid his hand upon Diana's arm
familiarly. She shrank slightly at the rudeness
of his touch, but he took no notice of it, while
Eryc gazed at him iu silent; indignant mortifi
cation. His conduct was always more or less
gay, but is was apparent now, even to Diana,
that there was something more than natural
levity in it, and Eryc thought that she fixed her
eyes appealingly upon himself as if she would
deprecate the reckless impudence of her cousin,
for such was the relationship which, by this
time he knew he bore to her. Accordingly be
was mentally seeking out some means of draw
ing either Mr. Wilmot or his attention away
when he saw in the buttonhole of his coat a lit
tle boquet of flowers whioh he had seen that
morning in the possession ot Miss Devon as
they rode together iu the carriage. **
‘Where did you get this little trifle? 1 he asked
seizing upon this as a means of accomplishing
his object. r
Harry had drawn forward a chair and seated
himself,but to the foregoing question he replied
with bitterness:
‘I received it from a false, fickle, changeable
woman !' aud threw the boquet into the fire.
‘Ah, Wilmot, how are you?* said Colonel
Fenton, who had not met that personage before
during the day and who now entered the room
and endeavored to second Eryc's endeavor.
‘Pretty damned well, I thank you, 1 returned
Mr. Wilmot in an off-hand manner. ‘How does
the world go with you. Colonel?*
Eryc lingered no longer, but hurriedly offer
ing his arm to Diana, proposed a promenade, to
which she readily assented.
•You are an old friend of Harry's I believe,’
said Diana, as they left the room, by way of
bieaking the abrupt pause caused by Harry Wil
mot’s last remark.
‘I have known him for some time,' replied
Eryc, ‘but my meeting with him here to-day
was a very great surprise to me.’
'He holds you in very high estimation,' con
tinued Diana. ‘I have heard him speak of yon
in terms of highest praise, and if you could pre
vail on him'- she stopped hesitatingly and
seemed somewhat confused, and, ere he could
form a definite idea as to what she would say
she continued again, ‘I mean if during your stay
among us you would spend a part of the time
with him, he would be very much pleased to
have you.’
The inooherenoy in ths last part of this
speech tended greatly to convince Eryc that
it should have had a far different ending, and
he readily imagined that, in her confusion, she
had begun to speak something of family mat
ters, which, on remembering she addressed a
comparative stranger, she had prudently sup
pressed. He dismissed the subject,therefore by
some allusion to the beauty of the scenery, for
they were walking now upon tbe verandah, aud
finally they took the seats which had been pre
viously occupied by himself and Harry Wilmot.
Here they remained until dinner was an
nounced, after which, Eryo saw her no more un
til the unwelcome hour arrived when the
guests were to separate and return to their re
spective homes. As for Miss Devon, he had
scarcely seen her since his arrival, but when he
had helped her into the carriage and taken his
seat beside her, he thought he observed traces
of tears in her eyes and upon her obeeks. It
was a silent party that went back to Delamere
that evening. Eryo, in spite of his efforts to
the contrary, grew thoughtful as he went over
again in mind the events of the day, and dia
not seemed inclined to conversation; Miss De
von, from some unaccountable cause, did not
seem inclined to conversation; Mrs. Delamere,
from fatigue, did not seem inclined to conver
sation ; and Mr. Delamere. from natural disposi
tion, did not seem inolined to conversation;
consequently there was a general feeling of re
lief when they alighted a' the gate, which was
greatly increaaed by the brightness and cheer
fulness within doors as contrasted with the
coldness and bleakness without. There is
nothing so cheering after a long cold ride of an
evening as a warm, oomfortable dining room
with a tempting supper prepared and waiting.
So, at least the Delmeres found it, and, under
its enlivening influence, their enforced and un
usual taciturnity rapidly vanished away. Miss
Devan, however, may have been of a different
opinion, for she soaroely touched her food, and
retired to her room and did not again appear
until ihft. meal was over with.
id Mrs. Delamere to Eryo after a
ned by the departure of Miss
found an old aoquaint-
be much more pleas
ant very gay'young man however.*
She put in the last clause in the manner of
one who applies a probe.
•Harry is very thoughtless,’ returned Eryc,
who oonsilered this as an imputation which he
must refute; ‘but his gaiety goes no farther.’
Mr. Delamere shook his head ominously and
muttered:
‘A gay biy, a very gay boy; I am afraid he’ll
never oome to any good end.*
‘I know well to what you refer, sir, ‘ continued
Eryc. who had taken up the gauntlet in defen99
ol his absent friend, and considered it his duty
to persevere; ‘and I admit that appearances are
against him, but if you knew his tra6 worth and
nobility of soul, all that yon hive seen would
pasB for nothing. Q6 will take a little too much
wine occa-<ioaally, but it is only, as he says,
when he is out.’
•Do you think so? 1 asked Mrs. Delamere.
‘I have known him for years,’ answered Eryc,
‘and I have always found it to be tbe case. •
‘When will you make him a visit?- demanded
Mrs. Delamere.
‘To-morrow I thought of going. ‘ was the re
ply-
‘Suppose that you put it off a day longer,*
suggested Mrs. Delamere.
Eryc reality agreed to the proposition, and
soon after retired to his room. It was a favor
ite habit with him to sit down at night, and
think over and digest the erents of tie day, and
feeling now that he had collected a great mass
of incongruous material, he leaned back in his
chair and gazed reflectively at the ceiling. He
had not long indulged in this luxury before his
meditations were put to flight by the entrance
of the mulatto boy, Bose, bearing in his arms a
turn of wood with which to replenish tbe now
smouldering fire. Although the lamp was burn
ing brightly, and everything in the room was
very visible, this original youth passed by Eryc
entirely, and then, as if becoming for the first
time aware of his presence, he tnrned full up
on him, and, with his burden still poised in his
arms, asked abruptly:
•Mos‘ Eryc, is yon rich?’
Startled no less by the suddenness of the ac
tion and the question than by the consciousness
brought by it so unexpectedly to his mind of his
true condition financially, he was, for a moment
at a loss what reply to make, but as his interlo-
ertor kept standing in the same position re
garding him the while with a persistent stare
from his sleepy black eyes, he replied with a
careless laugh, though scarcely relishing the
query.
‘No Bose, I am not rich; why do you ask such
a strange question?*
No chauge passed over the stolid features of
Bose at the answer he received, except that his
lower jaw dropped a trifle, thereby lengthening
his countenance somewhat, bnt laying the wood
upon the hearth, and turning again to get an
other long, somnolent stare at the young man
whose character he seemed laboring in a dazed,
mystified way to investigate, he replied:
■Darkies all say you lich from de way you
tote yosef, and say you gwine to marry Miss
Corinne when she come home.’
She is likely to marry some one else,* replied
Eryc with amusement.
•Yas ur;’and Bose, unable to think of any
thing more, took a third long stare of peculiar
slumberousness and left the room.
Left again to the silence of his chamber, Eryc
plunged again into the depths of meditation.
The coldness of the day had worn away gradu
ally, and the soft rain dropped ceaselessly from
the heavy clouds which had been thickening
since the morn, and his thoughts seemed to
keep equal pace with the steady drip, drip,
drip from the low hung eaves above. Since he
had been at Delamere he had scarcely had time
for reflection, but now, unhindered by the
trammels of unfavorable circumstances, he built
goodly castles of fairest promise in the air.
Without the dreaminess of mere sentimental
ity he thought with the pleasing fancy of san
guine youth, of the bright, broad fields of life
opening before him, wherein be might choose
what sphere of labor soever that suited him
best, and there thronged his mind sweet visions
of a golden future, where, in the long vista of
coming years, he saw the crown of successful
effort awaiting him.
But a reverie however pleasant is seldom of
long duration, and gradually his thoughts re
turned from reaching forth into the dimness of
the hereafter, and dwelt with scarcely less
pleasure upon the events of the recent past. In
this he could not but remember the incidents of
the day just spent, and her who had therein
been a principal actor. But even from her he
turned his thoughts, though as if from a subject
forbidden, to one whose prospects in life seem
ed so utterly different—Miss Devon, the charm
ing young housekeeper ol Delamere. She, he
thought, was decidedly handsome, bnt he half
pitied her for the lonely life she led. and he
guessed, with some degree of curiosity, what
had been the circumstances of her coming hith
er. He then remembered what had been told
him about her by his aunt, and he came to the
conclusion that Harry Wilmot must be the per
son referred to, although the latter with all his
protestations of friendship had told him noth
ing to that effect. He recalled, moreover the
fact of the inadvertent mention of the name of
Wilmot by Miss Devon when he had met aud
surprised her in the yard—the flowers in the
button hole of Harry's ooat and his words as he
threw them from him. This strengthened the
supposition, bnt the misgiving that his friend
might be trifling with the feelings of the artless
and confiding girl,passed into his mind and caus
ed his face to grow for an instant stern and seri
ous. ‘But pshaw! Harry’s not oapable of that,how
ever,' and he dismissed the suspicion from his
thoughts as unworthy of entertainment.
‘I wonder though, * he continued to himself,
if my revelation to Miss Ethmer to-day made
her think more highly of me? That is, of
course, if she thinks of me at all, which it is
highly improbable that she should. But, bosh!
why should I trouble myself about what she
thinks?
But nevertheless he did trouble himself
about it, not as be frankly admitted to himself,
that he cared particularly, but that her good
opinion was desirable because she seemed so
capable of critical judgement. Havir g thus sat
isfactorily explained to himself his exact posi
tion in regard to her he strove for some time,
desultorily, and in vain to dismiss her and all
that, pertained to her from his mind, until,
uneasily changing his posture, his eyes fell
suddenly upon his trunk which had been
brought to his room during the day. The sight
was peculiarly startling, but it effectually ban
ished his pleasant train of reflection. It was a
very common trunk—a stont leather travelling
trunk and would not have suggested to the or
dinary observer anything mort than a safe, com
modious receptacle for apparel, but Erj c’s re
flections took a somewhat cynical turn as he
looked at it. At last, he laughed a little bitter
ly, and nodding his head towards the trunk he
said aloud:
•And that leather repository—pcarce mor 6
roomy than a coffin represents all that Eryc Del
amere possesses—Eryc Delamere who builds
his lofty castles with their tops in Fortune’s
eloudland and their base -only that wrong!' ! e
cried, suddenly charging his tone, and spring
ing to his feet ‘The foundation of my castle
building lies here—in this brain of mine, here
in these brawny muscles—in ali this vital, elec
tric force that runs tingling through my frame
and makes my heart-beats seem to say ‘never de
spair, never despair, wait, work, aspire.’ And
so I will. ‘
k TO BE CONTINUED.)
.Jit £
■vgk.