repeated his request for some rag, brought the boy in, and proceeded to attend to his knee. He scanned the child's features from time to time, but could detect nothing of the resemblance spoken of by his wife. He completely made his peace with Mrs. Smith before he departed, told her laughingly always to have linen at hand ready for him, and then he should not want to look into her hiding places.

It was not however quite the truth that Mrs. Smith had run all the way back. In point of fact she had not come straight back, but had taken a short détour out of her way. She ran there, received the ointment without delay, and set off to run back again. But ladies of middle age (to put it politely) don't run very far up a hill, be it ever so gentle a one, and Mrs. Smith slackened her pace. Just before she got to Blister Lane she overtook Judith, Lady Jane's maid, and joined her, walking with her past the lane, for Judith was in a hurrry and could not stop to talk. Mrs. Smith reminded her of her promise to come and partake of tea; but Judith said she could not for a day or two she was busy, getting her lady's autumn dresses in order.

"It's not autumn weather yet," remarked Mrs. Smith. "It's as hot as summer."

"But nobody knows how soon it may change, and my lady likes to have her things in readiness," was Judith's answer. "I'll be sure to come as soon as I can. I shall like to

"He's middling. I have had Mr. Carlton to him. He is at the cottage now; I have been to his house for this salve which he left behind him. I say, he's a curious man, isn't he?" "Curious?" repeated Judith, not understanding how to take the remark.

"Curious in regard to one's business. He asked enough questions of me; wanting to know where we came from, and where we had lived, and where the boy was born; I don't know what he didn't ask. But I think he is clever; he seems thoroughly to understand the case. And he's very kind."

"He is thought to be very clever," said Judith. "His patients like him."

Lady Jane's gate was reached; it was only a little higher than Blister Lane, on the opposite side of the way, and Mrs. Smith said "Good afternoon " and ran back again. Lady Jane had seen the woman at the gate and spoke of her to Judith.

The likeness Jane had detected in the little child to her sister Clarice had been haunting her mind since the previous day, more than she would have cared to tell.

"So you know that person, Judith?"

"The boy bears so remarkable a likeness to-to-some one I know—"

"My lady, there never was such a likeness seen," eagerly interposed Judith. "It struck me the first moment I saw him."

"You!" rejoined Lady Jane ; "struck you! Why, how did you know her? When did you see her? I spoke of my sister." Judith stood dumb.

"I'm sure I beg your pardon, my lady; I misunderstood."

"I had another sister, of whom you have not heard, Judith. That little boy's eyes are so exactly like hers that they seem to be ever before me. What likeness did you speak of?" Oh, my lady, it's not worth troubling you with. It was just a fancy of mine that the boy was like somebody's face I know: not a lady's."

"Not a lady's?"

"It was a man's face; not a lady's."

"Ah, yes. Of course you could not have known my sister. She never was at South Wennock."

Judith lingered as if she had something on her tongue, and looked hard at Lady Jane; but she turned away without speaking. She wondered never to have heard that there was another sister; but the Chesneys, one and all, had kept the name from their households. In fact, considering the semi-publicity that had been given to the affair when it was entrusted to the police, it had been kept wonderfully secret. But the likeness the child bore to Clarice continued to trouble the mind of Lady Jane.

And the likeness-that other likenessfestered in the heart of Mr. Carlton's wife. In spite of her apparent satisfaction at the time of the explanation, the bitter suspicion sprung up again within her with a force that threatened mischief. There is no passion in this wide world so difficult to eradicate as jealousy.

and when, after his return to town from Seaford, he seemed to languish rather than revive, his mother's fears were up in arms.

The young gentleman had caught cold the day of his return, just as other boys are liable to catch it. Complete master of Pompey, he had walked deliberately into a pond with his clothes on, in spite of that faithful retainer's efforts to prevent him, and the result was a slight attack of sore throat. It was magnified into a visitation of bronchitis, and Sir Stephen Grey was sent for. He was soon well, but the disorder left him a little languid, and the countess said she must take him out again; she would take him to some of the salubrious spas of Germany, perhaps from thence to the South of France; possibly keep him abroad for the winter or part of it.

"It's not in the least necessary," said Sir Stephen.

Lady Oakburn thought it was, and decided to go. But while she was hesitating what place to fix upon, a letter arrived from her brother, the Reverend Mr. Lethwait, who held a continental chaplaincy, and in the letter he happened to speak of the lovely climate of the place, so renovating to invalids.

It was just the turning point of the balance, the last atom of dust which made the scale go down. If there had been a remnant of indeci-¦ sion in Lady Oakburn's mind, whether she should go or not, whether the expedition was really necessary, this put an end to it; and the requisite orders for her departure were issued to her household forthwith.

Lady Oakburn interposed with a half apology for her previous anxiety. The young gentleman had picked up his crumbs (to use Sir Stephen's expression) in so astonishing a manner the last day or two, and his face had got so blooming and himself so noisy, that her ladyship felt half ashamed of herself. But she should rejoice in the opportunity of once more meeting her brother, she avowed to Jane, and the trip would do Frank good, even if he did not want it.

Jane purposed to stay in London one clear day. She reached it on the Thursday, and would return with Lucy on the Saturday; on which day Lady Oakburn would also take her departure.

On the Friday, Jane went abroad on foot. She had several little errands to do, purchases to make, and she would not be troubled with the carriage. In fact, Jane Chesney had never cared to use a carriage so much as many do; she was a good walker and liked exercise.

It happened that her way led her through Gloucester Terrace. The reminiscences that the locality called up were bitter ones to Jane; how little she had thought, that long-ago day when she first went into it in search of Clarice, that years and years would pass and bring no trace of her!

She walked along slowly. She was just in the spot where the house of the Lortons was situated; and she was looking to see whether she could remember which it was, when a lady passed her on the pavement,—a little fat lady with a very pleasing expression of face. That expression struck upon Jane's memory. Where

Fearing that she had passed, without speaking, some one whom she ought to know, an acquaintance possibly of her brief London life, Jane turned in the moment's impulse, and found that the lady had also turned and was looking at her. The latter stepped back with a smile.

"Have you

sister Jane?"

"Lady Jane Chesney! I beg your pardon for passing you. My thoughts were elsewhere

at the moment."

"Yes, darling. But, Frank, who says you are ill? I think you are looking famous.”

chance was at work in this commencementfor it was the commencement of the unravelling of the fate of Clarice Chesney.

she said aloud to Mrs. West, "we may safely argue that she must already have made the acquaintance of the gentleman. And how could she have done it, and where could she have met him?”

"I thought that over with myself at the time the girl told me this, and it struck me that she might have met him here," was the reply. "My husband's brother was then living with us, Tom West, and a very open-hearted, pleasant young man he was. He had just passed for a surgeon, and he used to fill the house nearly with his companions, more so than I liked, but we knew he would soon be leaving, so I said nothing. Two of my cousins were on a visit to me that spring, merry girls, and they and Miss Beauchamp and Tom were much together.”

"Could he have married her?" breathlessly interrupted Lady Jane.

Mrs. West paused. It was the first time the idea had been presented to her.

66

"I should not think so. Tom was of an open disposition, above concealment, and they must both have been very sly, if it did take place-excuse my plainness of thought, Lady Jane; I am speaking of things as they occur to me. Oh no. If they had wished to marry, why have concealed it? Tom West was his own master, and I am sure we should have made no objection to Miss Beauchamp; we liked her very much. If she married any one of them, it was not Tom."

"Where is Mr. Tom West?"

"Oh, poor fellow, he went abroad directly; about-let me see?-about the next February, I think. He was appointed assistant-surgeon to the staff in India, and there he died."

"What more probable than that she should have accompanied him?" exclaimed Lady Jane.

Mrs. West cast her reflections back to the past.

"I do not fancy it," she said; seems to me next to impossible. With him I am quite certain she did not go, for we saw him off, and arranged his baggage, and all that. He was at our house till he sailed. No; if he had been married, especially to Miss Beauchamp, rely upon it, Lady Jane, he would not have kept it from us."

and had, as may be said, the run of the house, as Tom had." "It may

"Who were they?" asked Jane. have been one of them. What were their names?"

"Let me try and recollect; we have mostly lost sight of them since that period, Lady Jane. There was a Mr. Boys, who is now a doctor in good practice in Belgravia; and there was young Manning, a harumscarum fellow who came to no good; and there was Mr. Carlton. I think that was all."

"Mr. Carlton!" repeated Jane, struck with the name. "What Mr. Carlton was that?" "His father was a surgeon, in practice at the East end of London," replied Mrs. West. "He used to be very much here with Tom." "Was his name Lewis?" "Lewis? Well, I think it was. Did you know him, Lady Jane?"

"A gentleman of that name married my sister, Lady Laura. I know him."

"He was a good-looking, clever man, this Mr. Carlton - older than Tom, and by far the most gentlemanly of them all. We have quite lost sight of him. Stay; there was another used to come, a Mr. Crane; and I don't know what became of him. We did not like him."

"If it be the same Mr. Carlton, he is in practice at South Wennock," observed Jane, very much struck, she could scarcely tell why, with this portion of the intelligence. "Our family highly disapproved of Lady Laura's choice, and declined to countenance him."

"We fancied at the time that Mr. Carlton was paying attention to one of my two cousins; at least, she did. But his visits here ceased before Tom went out. I have an idea that he went to settle somewhere in the country."

"Did it ever occur to you to fancy that any one of these gentlemen paid attention to my sister?" inquired Jane.

"Plenty of them; Tom was rich in friends. Most of them were in the medical line, students or young practitioners; I daresay you may have observed how fond they are of congregating together. All were not introduced to our society: Tom used to have them in his own room. Three or four were intimate with us,

forget the other name."

"Mr. Boys, Dr. Boys now. Oh no, it was neither of them, I am sure. They were not quite so intimate with us as the rest were. If she married any one of the young men, it must lie between Tom, Mr. Carlton, and Mr. Crane; but to hear that she had would astonish me more than anything ever astonished me yet.

Tom, I am fully persuaded she did not marry ; or Mr. Carlton either—if he had a preference any way, it was, I say, for my cousin, though the preference never came to anything. As to young Crane-if Miss Beauchamp's dislike to him was not genuine, she must have been a good actor.”

This was all. It was but a little item of news. Lady Jane sat some time longer, but she had gained the extent of Mrs. West's information, and she went away revolving it.

She went down to South Wennock revolving it; she did nothing but revolve it after she was settled at home. And the conclusion she arrived at was, that Clarice had married one of those young men—Mr. Tom West. And what of the Mr. Carlton ? Could it be the one who was now Laura's husband? Lady Jane felt little if any doubt of it. The description, personal and circumstantial, tallied with him in all points; and the name, Lewis Carlton, was not a common one. Ever and anon there would come over Jane, with a shiver, a remembrance of that portentous dream, in which it had seemed to be shown her that her sister Clarice was dead, and that Mr. Carlton had had some hand in causing the death. Had one of these young men married Clarice, and worked her ill? and was Mr. Carlton privy to it? But Jane, a just woman, shrunk from asking that question, even of her own mind. She had no grounds whatever for suspecting Mr. Carlton of such a thing; and surely it was wrong to dwell upon a dream for them. There was one question, however, that she could ask him in all reason—and that was, whether he was the same Mr. Carlton; if so, it was possible he could impart some information of her sister. Jane did not think it very likely that he could, but it was certainly possible.

And meantime, while Jane was seeking for an opportunity of doing this, or perhaps deliberating upon the best way of asking it, and how much she should say about Clarice, and how much she should not, a fever broke out at South Wennock.

(To be continued.)

Steve Lidyard, I may say, par parenthèse, was a fine athletic fellow, much on the sunny side of thirty, bearded, bronzed, and bearing about him evident tokens of having seen hard work and done good service, and, as he had been "out with Garibaldi " up to the last catastrophe at Aspromonte, -as he wore a medal or two, and could sport a decoration, though only a civilian," it was evident, and well known, in fact, that Steve Lidyard was one of that gallant band of Englishmen who had volunteered to fight in a cause not their own, save that " Liberty is a watchword which rings across the world, and has therefore a significance to every Englishman's sense to which his heart responds in an instant, and in no passive manner either. Steve Lidyard, it is seen from my exordium, is therefore a man of some mark; and I shall now proceed with his narrative, which, according to a phrase now in vogue, is "awful to relate."

"So it is my turn, is it?" said Steve. "Well, I'll astonish your weak nerves, if you have any, which I assume at once, -' nerves' being quite a fashionable disease; so I'll give you an episode of one of my adventures when out with Garibaldi.'

"I pass over our entrance into Palermo," continued Steve, after some little introductory matter, "over excursions into the wild country towards the mountains, sometimes in pursuit of the flying enemy, sometimes in small detachments being driven back and pursued in return; and as you may recollect that Bombina,' son Bomba,' had put the place under martial law, all the nameless atrocities peculiar to the soldiery of Ferdinand were committed; but all this is beside the subject of my relation, so we will pull up at once, and try back.

6

"I had some curiosity to see a little of the

THE MYSTERIOUS CITY.

BY EDWIN F. ROBERTS, AUTHOR OF QUEEN'S MUSKETEERS," ""CLARIBEL'S MYSTERY," &c. I GIVE the following as I heard it from Steve's own lips, as I and half a dozen of us sat in a garden one sunny afternoon,-a fine cedar lifting up its stately and spreading branches between us and the ardent sun above, and forming a very welcome shade. Cigars and sherry were within easy reach, and among our listeners, besides the City "fogies," there