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THE LITTLE AUNTIE.

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THE LITTLE AUNTIE. BY MISS BRADDON, Author of "Lady Audley's Secret," "Dead Men's Shoes," "Aurora Floyd," "Wyllard'a Weird," "The Cloven Foot," "The Venetians," "Sons of FiN' Thou Art the Man." cto., to. [COPTRIOHT. ] CHAPTER I. THE CHILDREN'S HOUR. It was tea time all over London and it was she children's hour at No. 100, ParlaMne-square. The children's hour. The words used to sound rery pretty from the rosy lips of Mrs Lerwick, 4bt> children's mother. Five o'clock is the children's hoar," she would jay. "They always have tea with me-when I 4Im at home." The worst of it is that there are so few when, Eustace, the eldest of the three boys, would complain sometimes. I For once in a way Mother was at home. It was early in the season, and the room seemed full of a pale yellowe yallow of Lent lilies, the pale faint gold of an April sun. It was Mother's morning room—on the second floor in Palatine-square; and the flowers, the tables tovured with silver toys, the Indian draperies, and tall Louis Quatorze painted leather screen made up a prettier picture than the spacious Srawing-rooms below, with their six lofty windows, and blue satin curtains, and im- maculate chintz cbair covers, and general air of being meant for company. Here the chair-covers were always tumbled, the draperies were tossed about any now, and there were generally two or I three dogs on the sofa. Eudtaqa, Paul, and Frits loved the room for b was the only room ia Palatiae-square in which Ahey ever felt that Mother really belonged to them Bd they to her. In the country they saw her nearly every day. They ran behind her cart when she drove her Norwegian ponies, jtoed now and then at her luncheon lable, rode their shelties to the meet with her when she made believe to follow the bounds; but in London Mother was busy, with I an air of incessant occupation which the Prime Minister binself could not have exceeded. This Afternoon even, though the tea-tables had been I wt out ten minutes ago, Mother's work was act I '¡oite finished. She was sitting close to tIbe fender, with a slotting pad on her knee, fim in cards for her Arst musical evening as fast as ht* active little band could scribble the names. She had been paying visits in the af ternoon and bad not long exchanged the triple armour of her fashionable visiting gown for a loose garment of soft Indian vilk, in which she could loll at ease in a chair that was as near the ground as a chair ooukl be, And yet pretend Do be a chair- Mother loved low leMa. and Frits loved to crawl over the back of Mother's chair, and descend, an avalanche of boy, flaxen head downwards, into Mother's lap. groom, would amuse Flu £ wth 1 reminiscences. I r-- frits waa the baby-nab quite six years old. and was allowed to do what he liked in Mother's room and in Mother's presence. In Mother's Absence he dropped from pet and plaything into the position of a troublesome little boy, who waa openly spoken of by the household all." young Stark," and spoilt by hia Mar" till he was foeyond bearing. Stacie—the eldest-was at Klaitee, ana reportea very highly of himself in the orioket field; but to the matter of leneone, all oompared witb aertain saps and smugs among his nbooUwlowt, he owned to being thick." He had visions of growing up to be a famous cricketer, invited all over England for the sake of his proweas in the field. Paul was educated at home by a morning governess, whom he hated, not because aha was unkind to him bat because it was a low thing for a boy to be taught by an old woman. Fritz had not yet achieved so much as a spelling acquaint- ance with the alphabet, in spite of all mechanical aid in the hape of ivory letters and picture books, bricks, puzzles, and instructive games, and in defiance of the patient drudgery of a pais young person in the upper story who was called a nursery governess, and treated like a nursemaid. Of course the boys had nicknames. Eustaoe J was Stacie—or sometimes U. Paul was Poppy- Fritz was Fluff--au named on account of curly àair. which was in colour aad taxtnre like silk. worms' silk, but which had been cut as short as Samson's before his fourth birthday. More 'vi tations, mammy ?" asked Fluff, sprawling on his stomach at his mother's feet while she wrote. Yen, darling." What a lot of parties you do give P People are obliged to entertain, pet, if they <o out as much aa I do." To enter-whab ?" asked Fluff, lifting up Wondering blue eyes to the busy writer. To entertain-to give parties—yon intelligent duck leaning down to kiss the top of bin flaxen bead and spilling some ink on her gown. "There, now, see what you've made me do 1" Oh, mammy, I didn't make you kiss me—you did it off your own bat." The tea things have been in the room a quarter of an hour. Stacie and Pop have been talking in a distant window, but a tempting odour of toasted bun has crept through the room, juvenile appeoitief4 have been stimulated, and the two elder boys think it is time something ware done bodraw Mother's attention to their wants. Stacie," Pop begins, which do you like best, tea or gingerbeer r Gingerbeer is the best after crioket; some Kople like tea at five o'clock in the afternoon," acie replies, rather loudly and distinctly. Paul giggles. Mrs Lerwick goes on scribbling, bar pretty fair head bending low over her blotting pad, unconscious of this pointed dialogue. Well, there's one advantage about ginger- beer," says Stacie, a little louder than before. "A boy can run to the refreshment tent and bny it for himself but you can't run out into Palatine-square and boy a cup of 1Iea." Mrs Lerwick looks up and understands. Oh, you impatient creatures, in a hurry for your tea Not in a hurry, Mums, but we like out tn- AOt quite cold." "I haven't half finished my cards. You are such impatient children. Here is the darling Fluff as quiet as a lamb." { She rises hastily, scattering a shower ot cards | and envelopes, and exposing the patient Fluff, who is lying on her silken train and busy devour- ing a large slice of pound cake. A perfect lamb," says Stacie, poiuting the ftnger of scorn. That's the second piece. Pop ed I have been watching him." Aad my favourite tea gown is all over erumba And candied peel," protests Mrs Lerwick. Fluff was so hungry," pleads the youngeet,bis month stuffed with oake. My poor darling Did his naughty mother keep him waiting? Come, dears." The four sit crowding round the tea Mble- mother's low chair is very inconvenient for pour- ing out tea, but the boys help her, and though there is a good deal of milk spilt in the tea tray they get on capitally. Cake, buns, bread and batter, disappear with astounding rapidity. Stacie and Pop tell anecdotes-bhe elder of hia masters at Elstree, the younger of base tricks played on his erudite and elderly governess. Mother turns a smiling face to each, and tries to look as if she were listening intently, and, as ahe has only to listen, is not found out. Presently the boys begin to ask questions. Where's father to-day 2" Out of town." Mother answers carelessly. "But where?" Somewhere where there's racing. I think he bad to go by the Great Northern." "Newmarket, of omne," says Stacie. "Craven Meeting. Is he going to pull off anything this hmo ?" Mr Lerwick is distinctly of the turf, turfy ;and his eldest son may have heard more turf talk than Is altogether good for a schoolboy. Oh I've no idea," replies Mother, absolutely indifferent. His two year olds generally seem to lose." And so do his three year olds," says Stacie. "I'm ashamed of my name at Blstree when I find bow little confidence any one has in my father's #tabl»." Oh, I hope he will win the Derby this year." "With Gasometer ?" n.«ks Poppy. "Or with Badmash. Badmash is the horse he believes in." Why, there's 25 to 1 offered against both of I 'em." says Eustace, contemptuously. 1 Mr Lerwick's experiences on the turf heretofore have not been cheerful. He has backed his own horses with gentlemanlike confidence in his own edgment and his own stable and people have lown that whatever Mr Lerwick's horses were not, they were "meant." His oolours implied good faith and a kind of careless honesty, as of a man who could afford to lose. It was popularly reported of Mr Lerwick that bis income was of such an expansive figure that he did not know how rich he was. He had inherited a large interest in a great commercial bpnsa in the iron country, which had progressed by leaps and bounds under the new order of "tfewes. in which success and failure we fas the most on a Titantio scale. It was supposed that his income flowed in upon him in a golden stream, whose force increased as the years rolled on. Let him spend as lavishly as he pleased—be as unlucky with his horses as hard Fate willed-he could never come to the end of tbe income produced by a quarter share in Lerwick and Co. Here was no question of a Jubilee Plunger inheriting a quarter of a million, The wealth of Lerwiok and Co. was an endless web of bank paper, of which no mind could conceive the exhaustion. In order to assist him in the business of a life of pleasure, Anthony Lerwick bad married one of the prettiest debutantes of her year—and perhaps ¡ also one of the silliest. But if Ellinor Lerwick was silly, she was quite sensible enough for her husband, who would bave been bored to death by I a clever wife, and would have exiled himself for ( life in Central Africa rather than endure the I companionship of a strong-minded woman. Of anything that could be called mind in a woman Tony had a dishke, which was akin to absolute I fear; indeed, from mind masculine as well as from mind feminine he shrank with unconcealed aversion. Tha society he liked best was to be found in the saddle-room, the gun-room, his trainer's cottage, or among the bluejackets on his yacht. That a man should seek entertainment in the inside of a book seemed to hi.n as extra- ordinary as that a solitary prisoner should make spiders or mice his companions. The things be hked were the things he could see, touch, or I understand horses, dogs, guns, boats. He could j not appreciate a joke that was not of the practical kind. The men he liked were men of his own calibre. The onJy woman he liked waa his wife. As a husband, Tony Lerwiek stood out from the ruck—a first prize in the matrimonial lottery. His Nellie oouid do no wrong. She voa the prettiest thorough-bred in his stables. She could not be too extravagant, too frivolous, too selfish to please him. All that she did, all that she said, found favour in those indulgent eyes. Mother goes back to her neat by the fira and bar batch of visiting cards ever so long before the boys have finished tea. The children's hour has resolved itself-so far as maternal companion, ship goes — into the children's ten minutes. Again the pretty, fair head dips over the blotting pad, and the busy pen scribbles and scampers along. The boys chatter in low voices. They empty the dish of toasted buns, about which there is more coagulated butter than a careful nurse would approve but it is the nurse's hour as well as the children's hour. and the custodian of the little boy's health is at the bottom of the house gossiping over cups and saucers with the house- keeper and the French maid. When the dishes and the teapot are empty, and there is a terrible mass in tbe tea tray, Fluff suddenly wearies of the entertainment. May we go to the Surbiton and sail our boats, mummy ? he asks but the pen rushes OD, and he has to repeat the question several times in an ascending treble before it is answered. The Surbiton Is Fluff for Serpentine. Fluff haa prodigious command of the English tongas, but he is not particular about details, and proper names are often beyond his limits. "No, darling, it is too late," comes the tardy answer. No, it ain't too late Yes, loveliest, it will be dark in half-an-bonr. You know you never go out after tea at this time of the year." That's Tommy rot cried Fluff. The fair head starts up with a jerk of horror, but reproof is addressed to the quarter where it is least expected. Eustace, this is your doing. Yon bring this horrid language from Elstree." If I do, it's useful to all of us." says Eustace, doggedly, for the eldest has felt what it is to have other people's sins laid upon his shoulders. M I heard you tell the Governor that the last novel you read was Tommy-" No, U, not Tommy," interjects Paul, who is the most serious of the three, made grave beyond his years by the overshadowing of his governess's mature intellect. Mother only said utter rot- not Tommy." rm very sorry I ever uaed such a disgraceful word," exclaims Mother, and then concludes with withering emphasis, or that I should have a son rude enough to remind me that I was capable of being vulgar." Eustace jumps up from the tea table with a vehemence that makes the cops and saucers rattls. That's what always happen when Fluff doee anything wrong," he says, marching to the door. I get blamed for it." He tittma tbe door behind him, and the doors in Paiatine^iqaare are solid six-panelled doarsjthe banging whereof resounds from basement to garret. What a temper," sighs Mrs Lerwick despair- tngly. "He is becoming utterly unmanageable." Fluff had removed himself to the other end of the room ont of the way of the storm, and had taken all the silver toys off one of his mother's favourite bbles, and was sitting on the floor making railway trains with them—a harpsichord, two arm-chairs, a bird-cage, a bedstead, a sofa— all tied together and pushed along the velvet pile to express speed by Fluff's dexterous little hands. Miss Warren aa-ya you don't know how to manage any of Q8; I heard her tell Perry so," says Paul, who sits luxuriously in a large arm- chair, brooding. "Then she told Perry something that's not true, and if Miss Warren indulges in insoleia remarks about me she will be dismissed at the end of the quarter." I wish you would dismiss her, awl tat me go to Elstree with V." Yes, and come home a coarse rough bear like U, thinking and talking of nothing but cricket." Well, I can't go on for ever learning of an old woman," groans Paul. "I know more Latin than U, and I'm a book farther on in Euclid. Why shouldn't I go to Eistree next term "Because it's quite enough to have one schoolboy in the family," protests Mrs Lerwick, who has allowed her sons to flutter her spirits considerably, so that it is all she can do to put her cards into the right envelopes, and manipulate the gold-handled stamp-damper withont smearing the thick Royal Family paper. I'm sure I sometimes wish you could have always remained babies," she mnrimsre pre- sently, when the last envelope is sealed. Perhaps you would have liked 118 never to be born," says Paul. "That would have been still more convenient." Tears sprang to the pretty blue eyes—those blue eyes which Fluffs so exactly match—and Mrs Lerwick starts up in a little burst of wounded feeling. You are a heartless boy," she cries. "Ever so much worse than your brother. He only shuns doors—you try to hurt one's feelings." M Oh, dear groans Paul..f I only answered your own remark. Look at Fluff. He's playing old gooseberry with your silver." There was a rush, the toys were rescued, Fluff was slapped—a very small slap, which produced a very big squall. Electric bells were rung —bells that rang downstairs — bells that reng upstairs — nursery governess and footman rushed to the rescue, and Fluff went off like Eugene Aram, between two sturdy custodians. Paul picked himself listlessly out of a nest of satin pillows and Japanese anti- macassars, and moved slowly towards the door. When is the little Anntie coming again f he asked. Not till we go back to Heatharaide." And when will that be V Why, not for ages, child. We have only just come to town." Only just I It seeme a century since we came. I hate London." And thus without a word of farewell the last of the three departs to his own kingdom in the attics. Two have left in wrath and one in silence —and so ends the children's hour. Pretty Mrs Lerwick sits down on the carpet and picks up the silver toys one by one with a rueful visage. Delicate little corners have been bent, tbe threads of tbe 'cello have been broken, a leg of the harpischord is doubled up, the airy, fairy roof of the bird-cage is squashed iD on the tiny macaw that should swing below it. "They are utterly spoilt," sighs Ellinor Lerwick, and I shall never get such pretty ones anywhere out of the Rue d Antibes." CHAPTER II. EVERY ADVANTAGE. Eustace went back to Elstree next day. He had come to Palatine-square for a day and a night, being wanted in Burlington-street by a gentleman whem he looked upon as one at the enemies of the human race—a very scientific and superior person who did all sorts of disagreeable things to Bostace'a mouth and teeth, roothlessly extracting any tooth whose position offended bis hypocritical eye. Bad as extraction was. he could bear that like a hero, but worse remained behind, in the shape of what the dentist called" taking an impression," in which process hot beeswax was crammed into his mouth and kept there till it cooled at tbe risk of suffocation—the result of which ordeal by hot wax was a silver, or gold, or vulcanite plate, which made life more or less a burden; while it was accounted basest villainy on the part of Eustace if he wore this modern instrument of torture in. his pocket instead of cn his jaws. All the morning of his brief holiday bad been devoted to this dreary business of having his teeth pulled out and his mouth modelled for another new plalle-a plate which waa to exercise the severest pressure upon two obstinate little tusks which the dentist talked ot learnedly as canines. Nobody asked Eustace whether he thought the game was worth the candle, or whether be would not just as soon keep the canines as nature made them. He complained that he was handed over to Mr Waitright as if he had been a black slave. Has a fellow to wait till he is twenty-one before he is master of bis own mouth ?" Eustace asked at the dinner table in the schoolroom but there was nobody present of sufficient learning to answer the question. Can his parents have a sixth form boy strapped into a chair and tortured ?" Ob, Stacie, you have never been strapped cried Fluff. No, but I expect it would come to that if I didn't give in," said Eustace, darkly. "Becos if you was strapped," said Fluff, musingly, I should hke to be there to see." Eustiee had been huffed yesterday at tea. but the sun never went down on bis wrath. His temper was quick, but his affections were warm and strong. He adored the pretty fair-haired mother, and as he had to leave home early he pleaded for an interview in mother's bedroom. She beard the voice in the corridor, and called out. "Stacie, Stacie, darling," and he went into the bright pretty room which opened out of mother's boudoir, and found her sitting up in bed in a blue silk breakfast jacket—a fair girlish face looking i of a nest of pale blue frilling and lace-trimmed pillows. Mrs Lerwiok is sitting up to take her morning chocolate, while her Frenoh maid hold a review of gowns, tippets, fichus and odIee finery, discoursing vivaciously as she tosses the costly fnBBM!t about. But fcruely Madame has nothing to wear this blue gown is altogether impossible." Oh, I am so fond of that blue surah--come and kiss me. Stacie—I must wear it again. It fits me better than anything Amelie has made for ages." But, Madame, have the goodness to look at the edge of the skirt—cut to pieces." When does your train go, love? But you can mend that hem, Barbette." Barbette shrugs her lean little shoulders and throws down the blue silk frock as if it were almost too foul a thing to hold any longer in her superfine fingers. But, Madame, that soft silk does not mead itself—there is not enough of substance to hold a needle," This means 'that the blue frock is cashiered. Mrs Lerwick will see it no more but somebody else will go to Hampton Court in it next Sunday afternoon, escorted by one of Mr Hunter's under- cooks from the famous confectioner's on the other side of the Square. Stacie clambers on to a chair beside the bed and gives his mother a vigorous hug. I hope you've enjoyed your holiday, dearest," she says, in the midst of a shower of kisses. I've enjoyed seeing you-I didn't enjoy the dentist." No. no. of course not. But I want all my sons to be handsome." She looks for something on the littered tablet where a fat, yellow-covered French novel, a mommoth silver eau-de-Cologne bottle, a fan, a heap of letters, three laoe-edged hanykerobiefa.and the chocolate service are crowded anyhow. She picks a lizard-skin purse Qut of the jumble and opens it. and a shower of gold rolls out over the silken coverlet. Oh, mummy, how rich you are She gives Enstace a couple of sovereigns, and has to submit to a second hug, while Babette picks up the rest of the gold and places it in a little pile on the dressing table with ostentatious careful, ness. Won't I have a ripping bat," says Eustace, and a voice calls from without— Now, Master Eostaoe, unless you want to lose your tram." Why, of course, I want to lose my train," he says with a last kiss from tbe pretty mother, but I mustn't do it," and,off he goes. You can put out the pink crepon for Sandown," sighs Mrs Lerwick as she picks up the yellow-backed novel and twirls the leaves listlessly; I Palatine-square, as everybody knows,' Is one of the choicest positions in West End London. It is an old-world square in which there are scarcely two houses exactly alike. Some have been rebuilt and are palaces, Italian, German, or Early Eng. lish, with roofs that aspire skywards, minarets and watch towers, campaniles and clustered chim. neys, flying balconies and oriel windows, all that is fantastical and expensive in architecture. Other houses there remain just as they were under the first and second George, when Palatine-square was young houses so plain and homelike that one might fancy oneself in a country manor house. Again, there are a few much smaller houses- cosy little houses squeezed in between two colossal neighbours, bouses with a balcony here and a verandah here, and a delicate patrician grace in their modest stairway and low-ceiled rooms opening one into the other. Mr Lerwick's house was one of the largest in the square as to recaption rooms, and one of the worst as to bedrooms. It was an old house, and though it had been gorgeously decorated and furnished at Mr Lerwick's expense there bad been no thought of lifting the roof and letting light, space, and air into those terrible third-floor rooms. Fascinated with the lofty double drawing-room, the six tall windows, the Italian chimney-piece, Mrs Lerwick had gone up to the top floor pre. disposed to be delighted with everything she found there. Oh, Tony she exclaimed, as she and her husband went upstairs, what a house for parties We must have it." But they are aaking thirty thousand for a short lease." Is it much ?' "And the ground rent is a hundred and fifteen." "That sounds very little. Those drawing- rooms, Tony You must let me furnish those. You shall have your own way in all the rest of the house." But. Nell, I haven't made up my mind to buy it." Bat you will make up your mind I know, dear, when you've had another look at those drawing-rooms," and slim pearl-grey fingers twined themselves round Tony Lerwick's large doe-skin thumb. They had newly returned from a winter's yacht- ing in the Mediterranean, and had been house. hunting for a week before an obsequious agent brought them to Palatine-square to view—that was the agent's expression-Lord Somebody's house, only vacated at Christmas. Mrs Lerwick tripped lightly through the upper rooms. holding her silken skirt off the dirty floors and looking about with a smiling, casual air, counting the rooms as she paased through, and not happening tc remark that there was hardly a foot between the ceiling and top of her husband's head. Eustace's bedroom," she said, ftointing to a little room at the back. Such a dear, tiny room ril have it furnished ao prettily for him. The day and night nurseriee-Jovelv pannelled walls, and sweet old basket grates—and a double-bedded room for nurse and Miss Perry." I thought a governess expected a room to herself." Not Miss Perry. She is only a nursery governess. One can't pub up with airs from a person of that kind." No bob she mayn't be able to put up with no air," says Tony, drily, and I'H be banged if she'll ge3 much in such a dqg-kenuel as this if you put two beds in it." •' Dog kennel, Tony Wrth that lovely Adam mantelpiece!" "Adam won't keep her cool in the dog days," mattered Tony. But be was not strong enough either in argument or in will to oppose his pretty wife, so the lease of the fine house in Palatine- square was bought, and the last modish uphol- starer-who called himself an artiste-was let loose in the drawing-rooms, and Louis Seize and a chilly severity of line being the rage that year, the result was more adapted to the tropics than to the average English seasons. Slim, straight legs of chairs and tables reflected themselves in a polished floor as on the surface of deep water the pale azure curtains fell in straight lines from the six tall windows. The rooms had a cold grandeur and bleak spaciousness that frightened Fluff out of his baby wits if he happened in his quest of "Mummy" to run in and find only emptiness. He would make off as fast as his little legs would carry him, leaving the tall half- door to swing slowly and silently to on its superior rising-butt hinges, as if some ghostly hand had closed it. Sooth to say, though no grialy legend attached itself to that house in Palatine-square, there was a feeling of ghosts in some of the rooms and corridors which moved children, and oven grown- up servants, with sensations of vague fear. The shadows hung so darkly in those low-ceiled passages above. There were such strange closets —closets within closets, doors within doors, to say nothing of a ghostly back staircase whioh had been shut off at the bottom of the second flight years and years ago. and now only harboured mice and mustmess. Even Mrs Lerwiok, prond as she was of her drawing-rooms when her friends were grouped about at stately distances after a dinner party, or at one of her concerts, when there was barely standing room—even she confessed that the rooms made her melanohoiy when there were no people. It may have been partly on this account that Mrs Lerwick was seldom at home of an evening withont people. Miti Warren tayt you dowt know how to I manage any of ut," says Foul. A London house with a London mother means a dull life for small boys, even if their shelties take tfcem for an early gallop in the Row every fine morning, where they bucket along, much to the discomfiture of some of the elderly gentle- men in the Liver Brigade who, jogging quietly on their over-fed cobs, are apt to envy Herod his despotic power, or to regret theloegleet of Malthas. Pipe them kids I" cried a gutuar snipe, with bitter emphasis, as the two boys, dressed alike in neat little jackets and breeches and drab gaiters, and billycock hats, trot along Prince Frederick- street on their way to the Park. But after a week of such morning rides the pampered Palatine Square children sicken at the mono- tonous exercise, and Paul mforms his friend Tandy, the groom, that all riding except to hoonds is Tommy rot. The fact that the morning ride is insisted on as a matter of hygiene naturally takes all the flavonr of pleasantness ont of it. In Dorset- shire they are keen enough, for even when there are no hounds afoot the furze bashes on those breezy commons, the ditches that divide the fields, affords ample scope for iepping," to say nothing of a certain rural course where they can run their ponies while the dew is on the summer grass, and the keen morning air in their shelties' nostrils quickens the pace and stimulates to skittishness. In London Paul complains there is nothing to do. Even the theatres to which their Mother takes them from time to time offer but feeble juJs- Tommy rot—in the shape of serioas plays and sentimental comedy, being the draxnatio staple at the fashionable houses. and buriesaus tb" care exception—save in the unpalateable shape of comic opera, where the fun is swamped by the music. If Father would take them to the music halls there might be something to live for but Father has pledged himself not to take them, by a; promise to Mother, whose lamentable ignorance, is allied to ridiculous prejudice, and who believes* every music ball to be a sink of iniquity, where wicked songs are sung to wicked people. "I hate the London season," exolaims Paul, with his shoulders sunk into the padded angle of a large arm chair, and his navy blue legs swinging in space. It's simply beastly "You might have better reason for saying that if you lived in the slum at the back of the mews," his governess answers gravely. No, I shouldn't. for I should have something to amuse me," says Paul with a tremendous em- phasis upon the pun, of which Miss Warren takes not the shghtest notice. I could keep rabbits— I could go into the stables whenever I liked," "How would you like sleeping eight in a room ?" Can't say for I never tried it." Miss Warren sighs, but her rule with boys of Paul's stamp is to ignore impertinence. He has never been able to sting ber to retort or argument. If Minerva her. self had condescended to be bis Mentor that divine lady could not have held herself more aloof from the little world of his small mind. Ho never has had the satisfaction of knowing what she thinks of him. Miss Warren is nearer 40 than 30. Sbe is grave and pale, a neat thin figure always appropriately dressed. No salient point in her physiognomy or her attire lends itself to juvenile laughter. She wears no foolish feathered bat, carries no preposterous parasol or garnpisb umbrella. Her garments are neither old-fashioned oor new-fashioned, but of a severe simplicity that bears the stamp of a tailor who knows how the world is moving. Paul did not low his governess, bat he could not help respecting her, and he could not help learning of her, and, worse, he thought, could not help being interested in his work with her, for she made him think as well as learn, and his young mind grew under her teaching. She had read » good deal, for a woman, and when compared with the elegant Mrs Lerwick, who bad forgotten all she bad ever learnt in the school-room. Miss Warren seemed aa inexhaustible reservoir of knowledge. But then Mis," Warren laboured under the disadvantage of being what Paul's particular friend Tandy, the groom, called a plain-headed one. I see your new governess this morning Master Paul," said Tandy. and she is a plain- headed one And Miss Warren laboured nnder the disadvantage of not liking dogs—in the housa. If she doesn't like 'em in the bouse. Master Paul, you bet she like 'em nowberes. I knows the kind of people as likes a dog in his place—and that dog's place, in them people's estimation, is at the bottom ot tbe river." Miss Warren, not liking doge, was at once put down as a person of evil instinots and concealed vices—such as cruelty and treachery—and it was a disconcerting thing to discover that mother^ Spitz insisted upon adoriug Miss Warren. and that Fluff's fox terrier, Pincher, had never been known to growl at ber. "Spitz never had much intellect," said Paul. Bis brains have all run to hair, but I didn't know that Pincher was little better than a fool." Nobody in Palatine Square knew that in bar small way Miss Warren was a philanthropist, and that much of her afternoon leisure waa spent in the slums of West End London—the poor hovels that lie hidden behind the stately streets of the Palatine Hill, and for which the strong hand of improvement waits, armed with a pick- axe, to lay them all low when the leases run out. And when that day of annihilation comes, the little laundress, the cobbler, the servants' dr ss- maker. the jobbing tailor, the charwoman, and the professional beggar will have to carry their rags and their sticks, their measles and scarlet fever, far away from the Palatine neighbourhood, and the only shadow across the sunshine of its splendour will vanish into unknown space. Tee. Paul respected his governess, although she never called him Poppy, or Paulino, as his mother did, or Poll, or Polly, as his easy-going, good-natured father loved to call him, He had made up his mind not to like her; and he was a young person of strong will—a resolute temper that had been fostered by eleven years of having his own way. No, Paul was not plastic. Two y^ars ago, when he was handed over to Miss Warren, he bad wanted to go to Illative, and not to have a governess. And after that could be be expected to like bis governess It was not Miss Warren's fault but ber misfortune that he must needs detest her to the end of their acquaintance. He couldn't help getting on under her tuition. She was ao "beastly conscientious." Everybody except himself was pleased with tbe arrangement, and Elstree and its crioket field were further off than ever. He is ever so much cleverer than Stacie," said his mother. Awfully advanced for eleven years old, He knows more Shakespeare than I do." Paul remarked that this was easy, as dear Mummy's ideas about Hamlet, Othello, Macbeth, and Lear were somewhat mixed. I believe if I told her that Hamlet smothered his wife, or that Macbeth's wicked daughters turned him out of doors in a thunderstorm, she wonldn't know I was greening her," said Paul. Even Tandy, the groom, bad been forced to admit that Miss Warren waa a person of vast learning. I never see such a pig for books, Master Paul," said Tandy, she regular eats 'em. I meets her on the common when I'm exercisin' in Dosset, and she's alius got her nose in a book. Trudges along readin', readin', reading I wonder she don't let herself down on her knees over them hillocks." One redeeming virtue Miss Warren had, and it was a great one. She did not live in the house. She came at nine o'clock—with a most odious punctuality—and she was supposed to leave at one. But she was reprehensibly lax in the matter of departure, and bad sometimes committed the injustice of staying till a quarter past, in spite of clocks, and the broadest bints from her pupil. Neither in London nor in Dorsetshire did she take bite or sup under her employer's roof, save when, once in six months or so, formally invited to tea. to meet the curate and his wife, or Mr Lerwiok's land steward and his daughter. She was liberally paid, and the engagement suited her. In London she lived with her people in a back street out of Marylebone'road. In Dorset- shire she boarded with the village doctor's family, and helped the doctor considerably by oarsing his poorest patients. A London .spring, a London house, and all the restrictions of a London life had begun to show its effects in pale cheeks and languid limbs before May began; and even Mrs Lerwick's pretty eyes, which had so many pretty things to look at, observed that Fluff had not quite such a nice colour as he had had at Heatherside, where he played about in the open air all day long. Paul was always headachy in town but that was put down to his superior intellect, and never to want of oxygen. Flu", pallor was considered more alarming, and the family doctor was consulted, who prescribed a tonic and plenty of outdoor exercise, advice which caused a good deal of ill-will and a good many tears on the part of the patient, who preferred bis corner of the nnrsery floor and his clockwork locomotives and tin soldiers to the parks or the square. Indeed, it waa one of the young mother's grievances that her darling preferred tbe stuffiest corner in that stuffy room—with the treasures of the toy cupboard —to the elegant luxury of herjVictoria, and oould only be induced by bribery to aooompany her in her afternoon drive. I hate going for a drive," he grumbled, when his mother sent him off to be dressed in his newest velvet suit for one of these afternoon airings. M Oh, Fluff, hate going out with me I" Tain't with you much of the time. You're etioking in some shop, and I have to sit outside and the beggars come and worry and you won't let me have Pincber to bark at them." Of course I must do my shopping bub you are in the open air, and that's what the doctor wishes. You ought to enjoy the drive in the Park afterwards." I don't call that a drive—crawling along—for yon to keep bowing and grinning at people, or standing still for young men to talk to you and you won't let me talk to Tandy." Certainly not. No well-behaved little boy would want to talk to a groom in public." That's stuck-up nonsense I" said Fluff, in an ascending scale of naughtiness, which ends in his being sent to St. James's Park with his nursery governess, in deep disgrace, but with a basket of bread to feed the ducks, and a shilling to buy a lIoy boafa. (To be continued.)

HONOURING THE BRAVE AT BAKRY.

RORKE'S DRIFT HERO.

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THE MINE MASTER'S DAUGHTER:

LIFEBOAT DEMONSTRATION AT…

OONSULS AT CARDIFF.

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BARDDONIAETH.

Y DERYN DU.

ABERTH CRIST.

Y GWLITHYN.

DR. LEWIS, YSTALYFERA,

GWELttD DUW.

YR ENETH A'R RHOSYN.

UNIGRWYDD.

MOSES AR SINAI.

His Great Service.