Now, while all this was going on- I agree, provided we do not go and remember, it was not our quarrel to war against Germany, and thus at all; we had only lent our front offer our open flank to the assault parlour to the gentlemen who were of an ally far more dangerous than to settle it we were made the all our enemies. The Germans mark of all the abuse and vitupera- will one day get over their indition of Europe. For a while, in- gestion. Much ought to be fordeed, it startled us to be called given to the eaters of sauer kraut. braggarts and bullies, faithless allies They will recover, not their good and treacherous friends; but we manners, for they have lost none, got accustomed to even worse, but their good-humour, which they and grew to see ourselves written once had; they will see that they down cowards in that guttural lan- have been cheated by their own guage whose most endearing word leaders, and will make a sort of sounds like an imprecation. amende.to us in some stupid way of their own. But the French will hate as they have also hated us; and their Emperor, if the hour comes that he can slip his bloodhounds against us, will attach to his name and his dynasty a loyalty that all the conquests of the Continent would never bring him.

If we burned and destroyed every old rotten Prussian town in the Baltic to-morrow no very great achievement-it would no more repay us for all the insolence that we have put up with, than does the infliction of a forty-shilling fine on the cabman recompense the gentleman whom he has blackguarded for an hour in a crowded thoroughfare. The Germans are not bad people, but they are grob, which is something more than rude, something compounded of insolence and stupidity. The fraction of right they had in this quarrel excited their imaginations; their success in arms, like all unaccustomed sensations, turned their heads completely, for though Döppel was on a hill, it was so unlike Jena!

We fared badly in the negotiations, and came ill out of the Conference. We are insulted, outraged, and reviled from one end of the Continent to the other.

If the fight is to come, let it be a fair one; let us not come into the ring with an arm tied; and for this reason I say, No war with Germany, nor any Continental war in which France has not pronounced the side she takes.

Above all, no little wars; and the best way to avoid them is, no Conferences. I know something of the sort of people who assemble at these councils; and I declare solemnly, I do not think there is a question in religion, ethics, or even art, that thirteen diplomatists could discuss without thirteen separate and divergent opinions. We are Their profession, if we may dignify their calling by the name, teaches little beyond hair-splitting; and the highest ambition of any is, to connect his name with some treaty or some convention that may hand him down, in connection with another like himself, to a posterity that in all likelihood will be grateful to neither of them. Imagine thirteen doctors consulting over a patient, of whom a large majority would rather that the sick man should die, and you have some idea of the late Conference at London.

told that our influence is ended in Europe, and that the sooner we recognise our position as a fourthrate Power the happier will it be for us. Our fair spoken ally, France, too, who has had good words for everybody-pity for the Danes and praise for the Prussians

tells us that in our aquatic capacity we may make some noise, but as a terrestrial people we are nothing, and that in our "little war," if we make one, nobody need be inconvenienced; and yet with all this not very pleasant to bear

CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFORD: THE PERPETUAL CURATE.

PART. XIV.-CHAPTER XLIII.

THESE were eventful days in are to do! My darling, I am afraid Grange Lane, when gossip was not you will have to- to make your nearly rapid enough to follow the own dresses in future, which is march of events. When Mr. Went- what I never thought to see," she worth went to lunch with his family, said, putting her handkerchief to the two sisters kept together in the her eyes; and we have not had drawing-room, which seemed again any talk about anything, Lucy, and re-consecrated to the purposes of there are so many things to think life. Lucy had not much inclina- of!" Miss Wodehouse, who was tion just at that moment to move moving about the room as she spoke, out of her chair; she was not soci- began to lift her own books and able, to tell the truth, nor disposed special property off the centre table. to talk even about the new prospects The books were principally ancient which were brightening over both. Annuals in pretty bindings, which no She even took out her needlework, representation on Lucy's part could to the disgust of her sister. "When induce her to think out of date; there are so many things to talk and among her other possessions about, and so much to be consider- was a little desk in Indian mosaic, ed," Miss Wodehouse said, with a of ivory, which had been an instilittle indignation, and wondered tution in the house from Lucy's within herself whether Lucy was earliest recollection. "And these really insensible to "what had hap-, are yours, Lucy dear," said Miss pened," or whether the sense of Wodehouse, standing up on a chair duty was strong upon her little to take down from the wall two sister even in the height of her happiness. A woman of greater experience or discrimination might have perceived that Lucy had retired into that sacred silence, sweetest of all youthful privileges, in which she could dream over to herself the wonderful hour which had just come to an end, and the fair future of which it was the gateway. As for Miss Wodehouse herself, she was in a flutter, and could not get over the sense of haste and confusion which this last new incident had brought upon her. Things were going too fast around her, and the timid woman was out of breath. Lucy's composure at such a moment, and, above all, the production of her needlework, was beyond the comprehension of the elder sister.

"My dear," said Miss Wodehouse, with an effort, "I don't doubt that these poor people are badly off, and I am sure it is very good of you to work for them; but if you will only think how many things there

little pictures which hung, side by side. They were copies both, and neither of great value; one representing the San Sisto Madonna, and the other a sweet St. Agnes, whom Lucy had in her earlier days taken to her heart. Lucy's slumbering attention was roused by this sacrilegious act. She gave a littles scream, and dropped her work out of her hands.

"What do I mean?" said Miss Wodehouse; "indeed, Lucy dear, we must look it in the face. It is not our drawing-room any longer, you know." Here she made a pause, and sighed; but somehow a vision of the other drawing-room which was awaiting her in the new rectory, made the prospect less doleful than it might have been. She cleared up in a surprising way as she turned to look at her own property on the table. "My cousin Jack gave me this," said the gentle woman, brushing a little dust off her pretty desk. "When it came

said, and sat erect over her needlework, with a changed countenance, not condescending so much as to look towards the door..

first, there was nothing like it in steps outside. "If it is anybody Carlingford, for that was before who has a right to come, I suppose Colonel Chiley and those other we are able to receive them," she Indian people had settled here. Jack was rather fond of me in those days, you know, though I never cared for him," the elder sister continued, with a smile. "Poor fellow they said he was not very happy when he married." Though this was rather a sad fact, Miss Wodehouse announced it not without a certain gentle satisfaction. "And, Lucy dear, it is our duty to put aside our own things; they were all presents, you know," she said, standing up on the chair again to reach down the St. Agnes, which, ever since Lucy had been confirmed, had hung opposite to her on the wall.

"Oh, don't, don't!" cried Lucy. In that little bit of time, not more than five minutes as it appeared, the familiar room, which had just heard the romance of her youth, had come to have a dismantled and desolated look. The agent of this destruction, who saw in her mind's eye a new scene, altogether surpassing the old, looked complacently upon her work, and piled the abstracted articles on the top of each other, with a pleasant sense of property.

"But what if it should be Tom? Oh, Lucy dear, don't be uncivil to him," said the elder sister. Miss Wodehouse even made a furtive attempt to replace the things, in which she was indignantly stopped by Lucy. "But, my dear, perhaps it is Tom," said the alarmed woman, and sank trembling into a chair against the St. Agnes, which had just been deposited there.

"It does not matter who it is," said Lucy with dignity. For her own part, she felt too much aggrieved to mention his name — aggrieved by her own ignorance, by the deception that had been practised upon her, by the character of the man whom she was obliged to call her brother, and chiefly by his existence, which was the principal grievance of all. Lucy's brief life had been embellished almost ever since she had been capable of independent action, by deeds and thoughts of mercy. With her whole "And your little chair and heart she was a disciple of Him work-table are yours," said Miss who came to seek the lost; notwithWodehouse; "they were always standing, a natural human senticonsidered yours. You worked the ment in her heart protested against chair yourself, though perhaps Miss the existence of this man, who Gibbons helped you a little; and had brought shame and distress the table, you know, was sent home into the family without any act of the day you were eighteen. It was theirs, and who injured everybody —a present, you remember. Don't he came in contact with. When cry, my darling, don't cry; oh, I the thought of Rosa Elsworthy am sure I did not mean anything!" occurred to her, a burning blush cried Miss Wodehouse, putting came upon Lucy's cheek - why down the St. Agnes and flying to were such men permitted in God's her sister, about whom she threw world? To be sure, when she came her arms. "My hands are all to be aware of what she was thinkdusty, dear," said the repentant woman; "but you know, Lucy, we must look it in the face, for it is not our drawing-room now. Tom may come in any day and say-oh, dear, dear, here is some one coming upstairs!"

ing, Lucy felt guilty, and called herself a Pharisee, and said a prayer in her heart for the man who had upset all her cherished ideas of her family and home; but, after all. that was an afterthought, and did not alter her instinctive sense of Lucy extricated herself from her repulsion and indignation. All sister's arms when she heard foot- this swept rapidly through her

em

him, Wodehouse flushed all over with the embarrassment of the position. He cleared his throat, he shifted his eyes, which were barrassed by Lucy's gaze, he pushed his chair, from the table, and made various attempts to collect himself, but at last ended by a pitiful appeal to Jack Wentworth, who had been looking seriously on. "You might come to a fellow's assistance!" cried Wodehouse. "By Jove, it was for that you came here."

said Lucy, suddenly looking Wode- that an answer was expected of house in the face, as well as mine. I daresay she has done as much for you as she has for me. I don't ask any favour for her-but I would cut off my little finger if that would please her," cried the excited young woman, with a wildness of illustration so totally out of keeping with the matter referred to, that Miss Wodehouse, in the midst of her emotion, could scarcely restrain a scream of terror; "and you too might be willing to do something; you cannot have any kind of feeling for me," Lucy continued, recovering herself; "but you might perhaps have some feeling for Mary. If we can be permitted to remain until her marriage takes place, it may perhaps bring about a feeling more like relations; and I shall be able to '

Forgive you," Lucy was about to say, but fortunately stopped herself in time; for it was the fact of his existence that she had to forgive, and naturally such an amount of toleration was difficult to explain. As for Wodehouse himself, he listened to this appeal with very mingled feelings. Some natural admiration and liking woke in his dull mind as Lucy spoke. He was not destitute of good impulses, nor of the ordinary human affections. His little sister was pretty, and a lady, and clever enough to put Jack Wentworth much more in the background than usual. He said "By Jove" to himself three or four times over in his beard, and showed a little emotion when she said he could have no feeling for her. At that point of Lucy's ad dress he moved about uneasily in his chair, and plucked at his beard, and felt himself anything but comfortable. "By Jove, I never had a chance," the prodigal said, in his undertone. "I might have cared a deal for her if I had had a chance. She might have done a fellow good, by Jove," mutterings of which Lucy took no manner of notice, but proceeded with her speech. When she had ended, and it became apparent

evi

"The Miss Wodehouses dently prefer to communicate with their brother direct," said Jack Wentworth, "which is a very natural sentiment. If I interfere, it is simply because I have had the advantage of talking the matter over, and understanding a little what you mean. Miss Wodehouse, your brother is not disposed to act the part of a domestic tyrant. He has come here to offer you the house, which must have so many tender associations for you, not for a short period, as you wish, but for

"I didn't know she was going to be married," exclaimed Wodehouse -"that makes all the difference, by Jove. Lucy will marry fast enough; but as for Mary, I never thought she would hook any one at her time of life," said the vagabond, with a rude laugh. He turned to Lucy, not knowing any better, and with some intention of pleasing her; but being met by a look of indignation under which he faltered, he went back to his natural rôle of sulky insolence. "By Jove, when I gave in to make such an offer, I never thought she had a chance of getting married," said the heir. "I ain't going to give what belongs to me to another man

"Your brother wishes," said Jack Wentworth, calmly, "to make over the house and furniture as it stands to you and your sister, Miss Wodehouse. Of course it is not to be expected that he should be sorry to get his father's property; but he is sorry that there should be no-no