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• - DERRICK VAUGHAN, NOVELIST. " 1 C0I >1<1 Lave done it better,” he groaned. '. fi* ere > a always a ghastly depression dragging one back hero—ana then tho tirae is “*> rt i J nst as one gets into the swing of it too brraktast-bell rings and then comes “ He , , -J rings and then comes—' broke oil. leouJjtr. il o.i,tho cua or tno oouujuce. hoKcvcr. for I knew that then ckme .the slow torture of u tete-a-tete with the major, stinging fan-asms, humiliating scoldings, vexations and difficulties innumerable. I dr.-w him to the left, having no mind to go to the top of the hill. Wo slackened our pace •gain, and walked to and fro along tho broad, "vd pavement of Lansdowne Crescent. We bad it entirely to ourselves—not another crea ture was in sight. “I could bear it all,” he burst forth, “if only mere was a chance of soeing Freda. Oh, you are better off than I am—at least you know the wer-t. Your hope is killed, but mine lives on a tortured, starved lifel Would to God I had B'-V'-r seen her 1” t -wtainlv before that night I had never quite realized the ir.^-ocableness of poor Derrick’s l'lssiun. j had half hoped that time and separa- mld gradually efface Freda Memfield jr m his memoir; and I listened with dire fore boding to the tluod of wretchedness which he poim-d forth us wo paced up and down, thinking bow ami then how little people gnessed at the tremendous powers hidden under his usually ^uiot interior. At last he paused, but his last heart-broken words seemed to vibrate in the air and to force ine to speak some kind of comfort. " I'erriek,” I said, “ come back with me to J.'-ndni -give tip this miserable life.” 1 b.'lt him start a little ; evidently no thought vielding had come to him beforet We were passing the house that used to belong to that strange hook-lover andrecluse, Bockfora. I look- ( l * up at tho blank window*, and thought of that curious, se|f-centerod life in the past, surround ed hv every luxury, able to indulge every whim; B»d then 1 looked at my companion’s pale, tor- "" and thought of the life he had elected hoalth steadily improved, under the joint influ- once of total abstinence and Bath waters, and, Uo better m P rOVeine nt 1118 temper became a liu 1 eud(Knly~fwent"‘to'*her i, found a different state of thingB. In Orange dog’s life. Grove I met Dr. Mackrill, the major’s medical man; he used/now and then to play whist with ns on Saturday nights, and I stopped vo speak to him. “Oh, you’ve come-down again 1 That’s all right,” he saidst “ Your friend wants some one to cheer him up. He’s got his arm broken.” “How on earth did he manage that?” I asked. “ Well, that’s more than I can toll yon,” said the doctor, with an odd look in his eyes, as if he guessed more than he would put into words. “ All I can get out of him was that it was done accidentally. The major is not so well; no whist for us to-night, I’m afraid.” Ho passed on, and I made my way to Gay Street There was an air of mystery about the quaint old landlady; she looked brimful fit nows when she openejp the door to me: but she managed to “ keep herself to herself,” and showed me in upon the major and Derrick, rather trinmphantly I thought Tho major looked terribly ill—worse than I had ever seen him; and as tor Derrick, ho had the strangest look of shrinking and shamefaeedness you ever saw. He said he was glad to see me, but I knew that he lied. He would have given anything to have kept me away. “Broken yonr arm?” I exclaimed, feeling bound to take some notice of the sling. “ Yes,” he replied, “ I met with an accident to it Bnt luckily it is only the left one, so it doesn’t hinder me much! I have finished seven chapters of the last voume of ‘ Lynwood,’ and was just wanting to ask you a legal ques tion.” All this time his eyes bore my scrutiny defi- Jok.-'i ip tj,o hopo of saving one whom duty , him to honor. After all, which life was *’> worth living—which was tho most to he the admired; he walked on; down below us and up on the nrrth.-r hi:: wo could soo the lights of Bath; tho )‘!ace hi beautiful, by day, looked now like a fairv tie and the abbey, looming up against - liiuotilit sky, seemed.* like some great giant Sj , ‘l'>BS watch over tho clustering roofs below. A IH* V''ll-kiinum oliimoa veiwv Aiit inM flirt Dlfflll l!-known chimes rang out into the night. aa-i the ..lock struck ton. I must go hack,” said Derrick, quietly. “ My lather will want to go to bed." 1 couMn’t say a word: we turned, passed •H-i-ktord's house once mare, walked briskly , .'v'. 1 Hie hill, and reached the Gay Street wifi-house. I remember the stifling heat of jut-room as wo entered it, and its contrast to 'Be ,i :lr h, winter's night outside. lean , I'U? recall, too, tho old major’s face as ho I'H.k.-ii up with a sarcastic remark, but with a -Bail - of anxiety in his blood-shot eyes. He was leaning back in a green-cushioned chair, , 1 Bis ghastly yellow complexion seemed to be r° ore noticeable than usual—his scanty gray Bair and whiskers, the lines of pain so plainly Msthl" j„ iji a f ace> impressed me curiously. I iBmk I lead novor bofore realized what a wreck ° , a man ho was—how utterly dependent on others. Lawrence, who, to do him justice, had a good deal of tact, and who I believe cared for his Brother as much as he was capable of caring ‘or any on° but himself, repeated a good story with which ho had been enlivening the major, BBd I did what I could to keep up the. talk, r 'Tick meanwhile put away the chessmen, and •‘gated tho major’s candle. He even managed n P a laugh at Lawrence’s story, and, as ae helped his father out of the room, I think I 'as tho only one who notioed the look of tired endurance in his eyes. antiy; they seemed to dare me to say one word about the broken arm. I didn’t dare—indeed to this day I have never mentioned the subject to him. But that evening, while he was helping'tho major to bed, the old lady made some pretext for toiling up to the top of the house, where I sat smoking in Derrick’s room. You’ll excuse my making bold to speak to you, sir,” she said. I threw down my news paper, and, looking up, saw that she was bub- uling over with some story. • Well ?” I said, encouragingly. It’s about Mr. Yanghan, sir, I wanted to speak to you. I really do think, sir, it’s not safe he should he left alone with his father, sir, any longer. Such doings as we had here the other day, sir. Somehow or other—and none of us can’t think how—tho major had managed to t hold of a bottle of brand; and, as for safetv why, the major is hardly stmnpenough to do him any worse damage than bhe was very fond of iferiick, and it heart that he should i i such a f said what I could to comfort her, and she went down again, fearful lest he should discover her up-stairs and guess that she had opened her heart to me. [J \ Poor Derrick 1 That he of all poopldpn earth should be mixed up with such a police-court story—with drunkards, and violence, and pokers figuring in itl I layback in the camp-chair and looked at Hoffman’s “ Christ,” and thought of all the extraordinary problems that one is for- ovei coming across in life. - And I wondered if the people of Bath who saw toe tall, impas sive-looking, hazel-eyed son and toe invalid father in their daily pilgrimages to toe Pnmp Boom, or in church on Sunday, or in the Pars on sunny afternoons, had toe least notion of toe tragedy that was going on. My reflections were interrupted by his entrance. He had forced np a cheerfulness that I am sure he did not really feel, and seemed afraid of letting oar talk flag for a moment. I remember, too, that for toe first time he offered toread mo his novel, instead of as usnal waiting for me to ask to hear it. I can see him now, fetching^ho untidy port folio and tnmin g over toe pages, adroitly enough, as though anxious to show how immaterial was the loss of a left arm. That night I listened to the first half of toe third volume of “Lynwood’s Heritage,” and couldn’t help reflecting that its author seemed to thrive on misery; ana yet how I grudged him to this deadly-lively place, and this monotonous, cooped np life. “How do you manage to write one-handed?” I asked. And he sat down to his desk,put a letter- weight on toe left hand corner of toe sheet of foolscap, and wrote that comical first paragraph of toe eighth chapter over which we have all laughed. I suppose tbf readers guessed the author’s state or mind when he wrote it I looked over his shoulder to see what he had written, and couldn’t help laughing aloud; I verily believe -that it was his way of turning off attention from his arm, and leading me safely from the region of awkward questions. “ By the bye,” I exclaimed, •“ your writing of garden parties reminds me. I wout to one at Campden Hill toe other day, and had toe good fortune to meet Mi3s Freda Merrifield.” How his face lighted np, poor fellow, and what a flood of questions he ponred out “ She looked very well and very pretty,” I replied. “ I played-two sets of tennis with her. She asked ly. How he bad it I rather; bnt jnst then ' on’t know; bnt we none of us suspected him, range the game. She and in the afternoon he says he was too poorly to go for a drive or to go oat in his chair, and settles off on toe parlor sofa for a nap while Mr. Yanghan goes for a walk. Mr. Vaughan was out a couple of hours. I heard him come in and go into toe sitting-room; then there came sounds of voices and a scuffling of feet and moving of chairs, and I knew something was wrong and harried np to toe door—and jnst then came a crash like fire-irons, and I could hoar toe major a-swearing fearful. Not hearing ft sign from Mr. Vaughan, I got scared, sir, and opened toe door, and there! saw toe major a-leamng up against toe mantel-piece as drunk as a lord, and his son seemed to have got toe bottle from him; it was half empty, and when he saw me he just handed it to me and ordered me to take it away. Then between ns we got toe major to lie down on the sola and left him there. When we got out into the passage Mr. Yanghan bo leaned against the wall lor a minute, looking as white as a sheet, and then I noticed for toe first time after yon directly she saw me, seeming to think that we always hnnted in couples. 1 told her yon wore living here, taking care of an invalid np came toe others to ar- i and I got the best cdurte, and as we crossed over to them she told me she had met your brother several times last au tumn, when she had* been staying near Aider- shot. Odd that ha never mentioned her here ; bnt I don’t suppose she had much impression on him. She is not at all his style.” “Did you have much talk with her?” he asked. “ No, nothing to be called talk. She told me they were leaving London next week, and she was longing to get hack to toe country, to her beloved animals—rabbits, noultry, an aviary, and all that kind of thing. I should gather that they had kept her in the background this sea son, bnt 1 understand that toe eldest sister is to be married in toe winter, and then no donbt Miss Freda will be brought forward.” He seemed wonderfully cheered by this op portune meeting, and though there was so little to'tell, he appeared to be quite content I left him on Monday in fairly good spirits, and did not come across him again till September, when CHAPTER V. „ /1 know ijo w far high till are overtops the bounds or low successes. Only suffering draws rite loner heart of song, and can eltoit The perfumes of the soul.—-Sjpie of Hades. Next week, Lawrenoe went off like a hero to tbe war- my friend—also I think like a hero stayed on at Bath, enduring as best he could •bo worst form of loneliness; for undoubtedly •owe is no loneliness so frightful as constant compantonahip with an uncongenial person. He ™ however, one coi he went all at once as red as he had been pale jnst bofore, and said he had got itdoneacci- i.ll,? --1 Lnrlo ma ooxr nnflnnct ttVwiTlt it. ft Tin consolation: toe major’s t before, and said no naa go* i* uuuo ira- dentall v. and bade me say nothing about it, and walked off there and then to toe doctor’s, snd had it set. Bnt, sir, given a man drunk as toe major was, and given a scuffle to get away toe drink that was poisoning him, snd given a crash snch as I heard, and given a poker a-lymg in the middle of the room where it stands to reason no poker could get unless it was thrown—why^ -i- annsihlo woman who can pnt two and sir. no sensible woman who can pnt two together can -donbt that it waa all the ma- l0 “Yea,”I' said, “that is de" enough; hut for Mr. Vaughan’s sake we must’hush It np, that bis left arm was hanging down at his side., his arm was well, and his novel finished and re- • Lordl sir,’I cried,‘yonr arm’s broken.’ And vised. He never made two copies of his work, and I fancy this was because he spent so short a time each day in actual writing, mid lived so continually in his work; moreover, as I said before, he detested penmanship. The last part of “Lynwood ” far exceeded my expectations; perhaps—yet I really don’t think so—I viewed it too favorably. Bnt I owed the book a debt of gratitude, since it oertainly help ed me through toe worst part of my life. " Don’t you feel fiat now that it ia finished?” I “I felt so miserable that I had to phmge into another story three days after,” be replied; and then ana there he gave me a sketch of his seoond novel, “At Bight,” snd told me how he