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\. 1 >• ■ wi.vn:K-4i ki;i:> To-day the winter woods are wet, And chill with airs that miss the sun; The autumn of the year is done. Its leaves all fallen, its tlower-stars set, Its frosty'hours begun. Should last year’s gold narcissus yearn For next year’s roses, oh! how vain! For no dead tiowers arise again, But each brief little life in turn, Must shoot and bloom anti wane. Sweet, had the years that slip so fast Brought you too soon or me too late, How had we gnashed our teeth ait fate, And wandered down to death at last Forlorn, disconsolate! Surely before the stars were sure. Before the moon was set in heaven, Your unborn soul to mine was given, Your clear white spirit, rare ami pure, For me was formed and shriven. Ah : surely no time ever was When we were not: and our soul’s light Made those cold spaces in finite That lie between the years like glass. Seen only in God’s sight! Howe’er it be, my one desire. If chance 1ms brought us face to face, Or if the scheme of tilings found place To store our twin hearts’ light and fire In strange foreseeing grace.— Howe’er it be, for ti- 1 at least The woodland pathways are not dark. New light" are on the boughs and bark, And in tin* rainless sunshot east. We hear a mounting lark. E. W. Gosse. Will’s Betrothed; OK, COLD AS AN ICICLE. y -"».i ?«■a lm]f on tin disord her .tl' I fui mi- , iA ; either tro. J your ma.'niuu. aiu’liv, 1 : '••.*n» • • '***■.■•- oourftrv JirUU; lative. aiurinvalKl aunt. I came la-l night to this gay watering place for tlie I month of surf-bathing that my lover-hus- liand fancies 1 need, liear Hal. how J wish be could have aeeoinpanied me. hut business! business—that stupid, never-ending business. It is enough to kill the poor men who lead such treadmill lives. Kut they seem not to sink under it. Hal says that domestic love supports them: I tell him it is the club and the cigars. But about Will’s betrothed—the orphan heiress, Undine Vane. 1 don’t likelier. She is too cold. A beautiful icicle, 1 called her, to myself, when she came down to dinner, a little while after my arrival at the pretty, quiet cottage, where Hal had secured me rooms, so much nicer than the fussy, crowded hotels. Miss Vane was all in white—not an ornament, but white cape jessamines—a long white silk dress, with its frosty laces. She has wavy, soft-brown hair, and deep, calm eyes, of turquoise blue, and a pure, pearl-like complexion, and a lovely mouth, with little, even, milky teeth. Ami her voice—it is the sweectist I ever heard. She smiles sweetly, too. Yet. though she kissed me soeordially. I cannot help thinking she is heartless, and though she is so graceful and charming, I am not accustomed to seeing such seif-con tained women. ( )ur family areal! demonstra tive—all qitiek to reveal themselves, and full of little burstsof enthusiasm andsjmntaneous gusts of feeling. Will, especially, is the warmest hearted fellow in tile world. They are very unlike, my cousin and his betrothed. Dashing. m< rrv. gallant, affectionate. ('aptain ill Reviere, U. S. A.,’ and this calm, white girl. Not that Undine is of a gloomy temper ament. On the contrary, she is the most even-tempered person I ever knew. She has a persistent light heartedness, that seems to me to flow from sheer incapacity to feel. I cannot fancy those wonderful, softly-smiling bluee\ cs could ever till with tears. She seems a lovely Lorelei, fair, but soulless. I am afraid Will is not destined to lie violently liappv with tier. His ardent nature craves more than sin- will give. Vet it may be she will exert a restraining influence upon him. He is inclined to lie wild. I know, loves horses and cards too well, and oh ! wli.at an incorri gible flirt be used to be. Has Undine broken him of it, I wonder! I saw them meet tin's evening. Will has come to stay a month. She had not seen him before since Spring, and his looks showed how keen and eager was hi: delight at being with her. He would liavi caught her to him. regardless of mv presence lint a look in her eye restrained him. Very bright and happy, and even tender, after a fashion, was that look? but it did not encour age demonstration, and the pale pink in her cheek was hardly deepened. Yes, I am right about her: she is a cool-blooded, even-pulsed girl. She cannot love with intensity. June 2O th—Among the jieople who are stav ing with us in our pretty cottage are two especially interesting—at’least, one of them is. The elder lady is simply a sallow-faced personage—a widow, dressed always in deep black, and wearing gold eye-glasses. She is an eminently res]>ectable figure, and was introduced to me by my friend, Mrs. Gorman, as the widow of ail English clergyman. The other lady is the widow’s daughter, though there is not a particle of likeness between them. The girl is a beauty—after the stunning type. Crispy, red-gold hair, worn in the fluffy, picturesque disorder that is fashiona ble, brilliniitconiplexiouof rose-tinted cream, deepening to pink in the Founded cheeks. Her figure has a luxuriant grace of contour to match her splendid coloring, and her arms and shoulders are superb. A gorgeous Venetian beauty, such as Titian would have gone wild over, says my military cousin, who is a dilletante in art as well, but I do not find her altogether to my taste. I don’t like Titian beauties: there are too much of them; it is oppressive. And besides, Miss Blanche Everlv dresses showily and pictu resquely, but not always neatly. Her ribbons and collars are not always fresh, neither are her silks, though she wears them stylishly, and her trails are longer than Undine’s. Then she waltzes in the Polish style, and that bus too much ttfuiiit fan about it to suit me. Mrs. T. says I don’t like her because si: is developing an incipient flirtation with Will. Yesterday slie blushed when he came into the room. He took the vacant seat beside her; it is not his seat at all] and one of her dimpled, white buried in ■vho wept with ! to come home, and had been silent and agi tated all the way. <»n entering the house, she drew him into the parlor and implored him not to seek tin* man out and have any difficulty: it would bring scandal upon her and it might end in his (Will’s) lieing hurt. He was trying to soothe her when we came upon them. This was his explanation, and he looked sincere: but I knew he had flirted out rageously, and I said to him us severely as 1 could: “And it is for such a creature as this, that you are going to lose a woman like 1 inline. “Leave Blanche out, can't you!” he said gloomily. “You women are so infernally hard on each other.” “Is Undine hard on her!’’ Will stood up. he looked more of a man I had seen him. “Constance,” he said, “I love Undine,and she ought to know it. W hat ever follies and idiotic fancies I may have for other women. 1 always come lank toiler. I have to. She knows that. Tell lier 1 am ashamed of myself, and it. is tin* last time -he shall need to forgive me. Ask her to seeme one time more. By Jove! she dismissed nn* as coolly. I don't think she really eared a straw: 1 don’t think she ever lovedme enough to care about breaking off. I don t think she cun love.” Well, I went down stairs and conscientious ly began Will’s apologies. Slie stopp'd me with “I)o you think Connie you can invent more excuses for Will than iC Slie had been so composed: so free from any show of anger or grief that I had begun to hope (yes 1,1 hope, though Will is my cou sin! that she did really care for him. In my disappointment 1 said the silliest thing possi- bli—I told her she was far too good for him. She laughed, and then she sighed. I had never heard her sigli liofore, and the soft little sound affected me strangely. ‘*1 don’t know about that," sin* sn besides, Constance, we don't love p< cause they are good, but because we can t help it.” *'OU, me, liow blue I am to-night, and we 'were all looking forward like a parcel of children to the great event of the season— tile masquerade 1 mil at tile Star Hotel to morrow night. We were going to besomer rv and our costumes were all to lie a secret from each other—that is from the gentlemen, and we were to have full finding each other out. But now this wretched catastrophe has spoiled our enjoyment. I am afraid thy i breach w:d not - .on he heal* il. 1 think l mon on Dcaci.-iieiL i,,.’,' 1 " a -ei - I I , I making, aimed at two of the I Intrel, wh„ had long been at I .iids„i*l, was ),is cinque,,.*,* I '.'“’j'ir■;>>;. i-in-notion j | tst. c ' 1,11 L * “ J k,<‘ ■onug * h .“ t '"- Huai crisis. j about tiie breaking id. "and ople be- deacoiis ,,f hi. swords' point, and earnestne o— . ?.»»-,.. v. |=.||£"E. ,, SfY,:“ w i- lit niche. 'insolation to I hank heaven ! Mu cousin, poor thoughtless hearted fellow. uj|| ;j ve "Ohio I inline, how could' Kur 1 f, ‘ r ~ct: I have not fold Jll Iv. 2r) nsis is passed. Mv inn loving and biJ thanks to Undine, ill her cold : Von limv ir h'-'iiWniasq^n 1 ^^ 1 :':!'' / r ! si-med enchanted land iom^n^;::;':: music, the II I ^ ! tail — 5^;, K'lf'esaiid vivandlore anil tripping fl. WE SAW ONE OK THE MEN TOTTER BACKWARD AN hands stole under the table. I know from the sheepish look in the corner of Will's eve that he squeezed it. Undine and her aunt. M rs. Belton, were in it present. I wonder if \\ ill cares for his future wife, or only for her money. She, I fancy, is not likely to break her heart for any one. Still it is impossible not to like her. she is s.. anuisin -and her manners are perfect. She is s. i kind. too. si i unfailingly attentive to her aunt. And the little, fussy, irritable, nervous invalid is enough to try the patience of any one. But Undine is never at fault. She is willing to come home before the dew falls, and never forgets to carry Mrs. Belton's extra shawl. June 26—A csterday there came a newly I her. married couple to our house. Bride, young, j dnv pretty, self-confident after the manner of | how American girls, bridegroom immature • ( ' ,; nnot keep away from her, and every and action hot rays his passion surgeon. Dr. Ravvel, who ha : enviable reputation by hard study ink He is a young now quite an joined with no small degree of talent. Mrs. Boito waxes enthusiastic in iiis praise. He is so in- | teiligeiit, so noble, the best of sons, the most I a 11 liable anil courteous of voting men. He is quite handsome, too, and his form is as line 1 as his face. If Undine would only respond a I ' little to l,isdevotion, it would—well, it would i i the poor fellow, and it would bring j that silly U ill to his senses. 1 should like to I see him thoroughly jealous. But Undine will not flirt one bit. I grow almost provoked at Slie puzzles and interests nit* more every Does she care for Will ? If slie does can sIr lou r i .■. 1 ;■*' "atoll his audacious 11 rtation limbed and” conceited." They weiVcoiViplete- ! „p! a„ odd m'r’of ‘l 1 *’ 1 ™/*** even ly wrapped up in each other, and oblivions to I ,,,,,,'”'1 “f, M* has a everybody else, sat on the sofa half the day U™It s with their arms around each other and her If '- - ls U “ 1 - ost “* ,f hhe "'‘resnutm head on his shoulder. it is after an aunt of mine,” slie said, “who hada family reputation for fortitude, and my father named me after her because I never cried. You know my mother died when I was born, and there was only he to decide. He died "•lien I was three. I don’t even remei.ioer how he looked, but I have an idea 1 should have liked him.” Once there came an explosive kiss. 1 glanced at Undine. She blushed and seemed pained. “They are very fond of each other,” 1 said. “What a pity they should show it in that way!” she answered in a voice touched with real mortification, ”U ell, love is not a tiling to lie ashamed of fortunately.” I returned a little sharply for her evident strong repugnance to demonstra tion irritated me. She looked at me earnestly. “No,” she said. “But one keeps the most precious things under lock anil key.” July 2—Yesterday Undine came in from the little garden with a four-leaved clover. \\ ill and Blanche were playing backgammon m the corner, their fingers touched oftener t han was necessary. He looked upas I said to Un dine, “Now you must wish for something. ” “What will you wish for leib cheat n he said, carelessly. “What have you left to want?” She turned her beautiful eyes upon him: there was a little vibration in her sweet, slow voice. “I don’t know, Will,” she answered. Everything has come to me before I have time to want it. I can only wish to keep what I have.” I thought there was a delicate, pathetic re proach in that look and tone. So did Will, for he colored and came over to her, but Blanche called him to come back. She was not content to stay beaten, and must have another game. July loth—There is a young man here who Mrs. Belton tells me has loved Undine for a long time with the most faithful devotion. Ho knows of her engagement anil refrains „ ___ . from speaking any more of his love, but he running all the way. A11 SS IUS HAND QUICKLY OVER HIS i!:;n erfords wait'd on i iy aunt. ,i Ell *:a Hhe liegan to cr ► while 1 •Oli. Undine ! llO\V •ould you ■h" said, the Hunger!'. ids ai the , ime .*:! iid stilt’imily. '1 vnnti d a little .ti:su -Hut my b‘:u\’ said Mrs. onl. Slit* was a vt*r\ hirg * woman. ore a pin, fancy, for he declares her eves ml very stout, and she always grew in the face when she lieeame moral ive—'my dear,’ said she, God tie brothers and sisters, ‘Then won’t give me one,’ i interrupted, not I “ ’ J ► be rude, but only awfully in earn- ! ‘ He icon.'I screamed Malic, ‘and you any never !’ ‘But l didn't look at im’t I;’ I said to Airs. Hungerforil. my dear, you can't,’ she said. ‘But j j-.. have dear little friends who will hyt very much.’ Then I cried.” lit 011 always want a sister 1<io much when I saw more of sisters, 11 h e times of wanting lier still.” June,” said I, “Suppose you try me. I iSrfil a sister either, and i love you.” S*jjou really !” she asked, looking at me 'j ir lovely unfathomable eyes. “I am id:’u will make a nice sister.” At kst. dear, though 1 did not say it to u, liil make a faithful one. j fu/fifh—Blanche Eve July at lu.-r. with zled as in 11 ui, 011 the for him j I know, 1 he ell, the catastrophe has come lias broken her engagement am now more than everpuz she loves him. This after- aiKl " ill went out for a walk I am almost sure she fished his escort. She complained, the basket would lie too heave It to get the pebbles and shell- 1 lu ‘ r mofher wanted her to bring. We did know they had returned—Undine and 1. egged her to sing me the “Lorelei" -noliocver sung it with such sweetness— and we lt together to the parlor, where she couM V tiu» piano accompaniment. Tlie door i slightly ajar: she pushed it open and w”ne unexpectedly upon Blanche EverH'biiig upon Will's shoulder. The devil.id he Upon my word!’ I don't blamjui. Blanche sank into a chair and madegreat fuss with her handkerchief Lnih.quite silent, stood in the door wav looks’*nil to the other. She was dressed for er; the sunlight burnished the olive tints"-’ 1 dress: there was a lace scarf flung al tori’. shoulders, and the opals gleamed She had never looked line sine,* it was 1' Il lights, the fantastic its and conn mm [rilipiicr q, „. - , 'Cental sul- , '• "'furling. di!:z!i^;^ha,;',!"V! i scope of color I . . '-*''1^ KatrMo- ! national "costume of Si"'. 1 '’'"'"'''a in " ith the white JlK- ^'l"di S " nr,, "l .l , '"-e e,| slippers. i:|,,„ehe u - , i.v ""l’ < “iintess with pMwdfivil Iv.;.. ; l J rcii ’li pink silk under liordoiifiiio 1 t‘ *!-'' d,vss " dine—yes. she w-- 1 [ i"liiie was 1 Ti the sea in her pale ,‘i’ ".Vhiph of toaiuv Kail* -I , ll ! ''“'"'S and lustrous eves a,,,' " i,h silky hair, she lool-e,l 1 'iat shimmering the mask over t'-ice" M ' ) to tie that she and Wifi would 1''“ ’"'I-o We were m the ballro, >„ 1 ... V ” " ,h l1 variety of masks bewilder 1 1 n "" lIl< ‘ r ''"”1 l’resentlv I saw Blnne IV ' me. arm of a gentleman dressel'i asa , ‘ hl ' , ,'- fan Elizahetl,an era-Hai,.,-q, ,.* OT'.'‘ r ' ,f ' perchance—with his sword at 1 " “ S,,lglmm dent ly Blanche 1 hi- was I when"I heard Vihn ''^"^."titc and' Kvi- his e ves Hashed t h rough 1 "|, j. and brilliant. He has beei much wine was my fear. It was Will; restless drinking too hand through his aiairand^V <,le " H,im, 'he’s Soon afterls;, • tl ' , ' ""' y 'hed off. gether. I ^iw too « ™t--t to intently I,y another mask a „ costume similar to Will's . "'' ar 'nga dress of « cavalier -■« ' - ~ tl,e r "'h court ■rv followed iv motion 1 fie leane.1 agai,;rt'! Ue, " H, ' SS ' Sti '' a " ith his eves her esc* >rt ' 11 inp riancinff hall ’inething in his look reatened evil, afterwards . When thev left the <1 he went too: there was and actions that thn Halt an hour at "bite throat. 1 inline and 1 ... „ lc music room tint le. 1 1 deserted for the . t 1 * 11 * been almost me aside. !UI< ^ le it i °!! : S ! he rriC, J’ “'hov a re eoi it is about me. 1 will h, morrow.” “U hat do yon mean * nght “Mi Re all’yes. Before he could speak she steiiped leave ..',0 “ hen him and. Blanche. 'Ex,use me'‘she ith ei said there was not a quiver in |,e r swet , r ; out *, V-. I < 11«I not know any one w as hern .. .n . / , “Didnt you cry when you were a child ;” I fley nie. *1 can't «iy 'she im pro^| ^mV^^foreh"^ he staled at her with cry seldom. Somehow I never wanted <|diAce, though she has a knack of getting , " ■ • ' toerv. 1 really don tremeniliercryhg hard lOiinoiie. Hardly a day passes that she ( nut once, lhat was because I baitym little I ij come into mv room clad in an un- s,h ..il'i ft was amusing,” I tlv le cashmere wrapper, fling herself It does nt strike me as amusing.’’ I non v lounge and confide. The other day Vm dou r, know the circa maniocs. [ «# t< me that Mrs. Everlv was onlv her "asn t more than eight yearsold. "here was sepioner anil was real unkind to her; that a horrid little girl who lived near uf-ndread- j U thcioney belonged to the ladv who had ini} ai.siigieeaule little girl—who v:s always I m»i'<* soil to whom she had willed every- chewing gum, and when she lire of that, biugad that Mrs. Everly told her her only " S _ t,, l !' ltt '' 11 the gum on my ha*. It was | mpe as to make a good match. She said for my t ousin Will Reviere. mooautiful. 1 wonder'FuTh did,i t i Se,Y on T' "" tit ^* promenadnig with him. ht _ , „ . . any one was here B t go. let me return something that lie- l, ’ i Ir ' Kortere.’ She slipped a ring fn 1 huger, laid it on tin* table near Will timing passed out of the room. There . -seem anything for me to do save go: so it—ill another direction. ....... L.Tgom on niy iicr it was Dope as to make a good match. She said tor my < ousin Will Reviere * * lier crude sciis-e of humor. I supose, hut he w very unhappy and left so alone in the ust been to see me. lam linnnv to s„.- jouth is not tolerant, and it wa 110 end of vorld She wept n few tears 011 a tom hand-*°ked miserable. He bui*st out ; it on.-e* tr-.i,bh, getting the gum out f my hair, teretf, which she deluged with mv cologne; I,, ‘ had been a cursed fool but it Mell, tins unpleasant little girl .'die Hun- iheiife took the . ologne off with lier to ' & as bad as I thought. It was -ill lo, ! gei foil , had the sweetest little b'V sister in j Jathi*r head. Of course it has not return- Moment’s impulse: and he was onlv trv H,e world. I thought ff, a greafchanie that id. Erewcll, a long fan-well to all myt" reassure her. She seemed so distressed Mollie shoidd have three sisterP'hile I had sweej'ss. for she borrowed my other per-fmr lie was going to kill a fellow tint li*i I no even a brother’ I was very nd of little fm.J Thursday. Sometimes her feeling?! r ule to her. And t ien .! ,' . ,, Lula so I stole her.” averjne her and she cries on mv handkect while they were out walking a San ha . ... „ 1 I’hiedthat is why my sto-k is getting low-«tol Klan«*l,e very fan, iltariykml wantf,} A es, stole hei out of the cille while her tfrieflways makes her hair come down arflraw her hand through ’’ nurse^uas talking to her frieu the ice man she |fs it up with mv hair pins. Slie is if with him to walk " and Malie was chewing gum siewin-re else; in,lop, slovenly kind of girl: but what - stole her and earned her ten old woman , soleml looking creature when she comes 0 ' who was to take care of her f me for a dol- • ,'a ' 01 tin* papers to ll I10 is going to . . .. . M.o~ a, T , 'L“-! nan I USe, l | insisted on mv n " le uu. 1 he'swo V, T to. to i.™, nott ( r;.;;:.Tte ,, .;' .' v, ’ ,iM "r- 1 thog a rden'tofight; ne bh n dea; > .' ■■p’ wit'hTt* !* ' ,1I(lri ,n ' I .... t ,s JM't what you would like I e,-; 1 vanity ” Ve '"" Ught this “■> to gratify yo^ tiling, Constance 1 ”^* “5?, to «>>• .such a [ lim,,s »nd pretending to rrv' , hl T know you wifi „ ot blame ,,,‘e; you-” ' ^ 1 one. I guessed where at But Undine bad once, his arm and carry She had refused to sro ... Rented agitated and frightened and It 'leiud in,iking creature when she conies o'*" "an interfered and came near kiioekin.r , . ., — - tin-veiling with all that tawny liair follow down, only refrained heeine.,. i n v I "“ ttoman sasli ar my new wax : that iscious complexion lit up by gas fiJanche’s entreaties not to have a scene rtnt doll. Aon can fancy the e lusion of the Such;qierl. arms, shaded bv lace and hi? had said to the man, ‘I’ll sh vi,, . J, n '"' ' ''' — ' yl hy. rpeiitine liraceDts. Neither lace’« ‘leal with you as you de ^ ’ - K ' story, of course, ning old woman. The old wan was a Hhe carrif into thefittle gar'll, % "ay heavens, j heard the *l, " e lu 8 h in the the.* con,er;X l »■» far- brushed mine. I caught I’ii ‘, lntf . 1 llg !*t 'h'c.ss and we both ran "o L "'.'.V" 0 S *r. ,1<l hami hand , . a low groan cried Undine. one of them totter b*iekw'„rr" , “f’ su " ^b4 a,, ' ! “Oh, God! it is AVilL Mie was at his side in i wan was a tun- : ea ny. rpentine liracehts. Neither lacel 1 ' 1 <"‘a( with you as von deserve for thD ’ ■ "as at Ins side in an instant oi rrif he hahy home, ' hraca-ts are genuine, but Will does’nt kr ,l 'l the fellow had answered ‘all rich?! T’n, i lng t " olll, d "ith the so ft in™'. st a u nch n ignant delega- ! it;mi never know such things; nor woul/ our u,a n.’ Blanche had immediatel/begged ' Concluded on sii, S She tore Concluded on Sth jia