l w. —/i' I ./ l «;.‘4 Pr; ., r: , dark path he was traversing, who can tell how much of the still darker future might have been spared? , Sir Rupert, looking, down upon her, thought that womanly faith had never taken a more beautiful form. “If he is not yet saved and prove to you that he is worthy of your trust, it will be be— cause no earthly pOWer will avail,” he said, earnestly. “ Don’t fear but he shall be saved,‘ ‘ Miss Carteret.” _ (To be continued—commenced in No. 262,.) The Rival Brmhers. 'I‘HE WRONGBfiB'WIrE’s HATE. BY MRS. MAY AGNES FLEMING, AUTHOR on “THE DARK SECRET,” “AWFUL MYSTERY,” manure. CHAPTER XIX. A MOONLIGHT INTERVIEW. LONG lances of moonlight streaming through the vast window, mingled with the light of two wax candles, and fell on the pale face of Eve Hazelwood, as she sat in an easy-chair, having her wounded forehead bound with long strips of court-plaster. On two pale faces, for Una Forest was the surgeon, andvher blue eyes were full of tender solicitude, as they rested on the colorless face of her patient. “ How pale you look, my dear!” her soft voice was pityingly saying. “ I am sure your poor bruised forehead must be very painful.” Eve laughed good-naturedly. “ Oh, no. It is not very painful; it only feels a little stiff and sore. Don’t I look shock- ing with all this plaster? Why could not I have bruised my arm or my head instead of my face, I wonder?” “My love, you have reason to be thankful it was not your neck you broke! What would Monsieur D’Arville have done then?” Eve blushed, as only sixteen years ever does, at the allusion, What a. happy ride it ha been for her, in spite of her cut face! n “ And that reminds me,” Miss Forest placid— ly went on, noting the telltale blush, “ that you had better keep your room this evening, if you don’t want to disenchant him. Of course, our Eve must be pretty at all times, but I can assure her she is a great deal prettier without strips of court-plaster.” Eve glanced at herself in the mirror, and fully concurred in the opinion. “It’s too bad, but I suppose there is no help for it! My head feels a little dizzy and con— fused, too; and I think, on the whole, the best thing I can do is, to go to bed.” “ Exactly, my dear! You will feel all right to-morrow morning, and your roses will have returned in full bloom. Now I shall fetch you some tea and 'toast and see you safely tucked ° in bed. Hazel must not disturb you tonight —she will make you ill and feverish with her tittle—tattle, and must keep her own room.” " How kind she is, after all!” thought Eve, as the. little Albino tripped away, “ and how Hazel and I have misjudged her! I feel as if I could go down into the valley of humiliation and beg her pardon on my knees for rash judg ment. Oh, What a night it is! and how happy I am! I wonder what he is doing down-stairs! I wonder if he will miss me this evening!” Alone as she was, she felt her face glowing, and covered it with her hands, with a little laugh at her own silliness. A soft rustling of silk made her look up. Miss Forest was there again, carrying a. tray herself, laden with tea and toast, and marmalade. " Now, my dear, take something before you retire, it will make you feel all the better to morrow.” , “ How good you are, Miss Forest!” Eve cried out in the fullness of her heart, “ to take all this trouble for me!” Oh, Una Forest! little white hypocrite! had you ever in all your life been guilty of a blush, it should have been' then! But the pale blue eyes only shifted away under the grateful glance of the luminous black ones, and the lit- tle fair hands twisted in and out among the plates. “Don’t mention it, my dear; it is nothing! Why do you not eat? You taste nothing.” “ I am not hungry, thank you! I want nothing but the tea. And now I think I will lie down, and sleep away this dizzy head.” “ And I will take away these candles, lest theyshould tempt you to sit up and read; and I will lock your door to keep that little tom» boy, Hazel, from breaking in,” said Miss For- est, laughing and nodding. “ And now, my love, good-night and pleasant dreams to you!” She kissed her as she spoke—the little fe- male J udas—and left the room, putting the key in her pocket. She glanced back at it from the head of the stairs with a cold, glitter- ing, evil smile. “They may be pleasant to—night, pretty Eve,” she said, softly, “but they will hardly be so sweet to-morrOw night. You shall never be D’Arville’s bride until my brain loses its power to plot, and my right hand its cunning to work.” She clenched the little digit fiercely as she spoke, and went down—stairs to the pai‘lqr. ,Hazel and D’Arville were there: the former jingling away at the piano; the latter holding a book, but seeing only a pair of black eyes, a shower of black curls, and a very young face, fresh and sunshiny as Hebe’s own, looking up at him from every page. Hazel stopped clattering the “ Wedding March," whirled round on her stool and faced Una. ‘- ’Where’s Eve?” “In her room.” . “ Ain’t she coming down?” “ Not to—night, she says. She has court— plaster on her forehead, and feels light-headed after her fall, so has gone to bed. I locked. you out for the night.” “ Locked me out!” shrilly cried Hazel. “ What is that for?” “ She thinks she will feel better alone, I sup- pose. All I know is, you are to keep your own room to—night.” “ The hateful mean thing! I’ll go and sleep in the attic with one of the maids, before I roost alone in there among all the ghosts and rats and other vermin. Eve’s nothing but a nasty selfish thing!” “ My dear, if you are really afraid,” said Miss Forest, blandly, “ you can share my chamber for this one night.” “ Oh,” said Hazel, wilting down suddenly at the proposed cure, which was worse than the disease, “ I guess I sha’n’t mind it so much, af— ter all. If Eve and the rest of you can face the ghosts alone, I dare say I can, too. Well, what’s the matter now?” . For Miss Forest, putting her hand in her pocket suddenly, uttered a sharp exclamation of alarm. D’Arville lifted an inquiring face from his book. “ I have lost my purse, and it contained I had it when I money to a large amount! I t mus was out in the grounds this afternoon. have dropped it there.” D’Arville roseiup. “The night is clear as day; permit me to go out and search for it, Miss Forest.” Miss Forest hesitated. ‘ “ It is so much trouble.” “It is no trouble at all. Invwhat part of the grounds were you?” “Oh, in several places; but I think I may have dropped it near the old well, at the ash- trees. You know the place? I remember pull- ing my handkerchief out there to throw over my head, and may have pulled the purse out with it ” “What kind of purse was it?” “ A portmonnaie of gold and ebony. It was _ a gift from a dear friend; and, independent of the money it contained, very valuable to me on that account. Hazel and I will go with you and help in the search.” The three started. All traces of the thun- der-storm had disappeared, and the full moon ' rode in a cloudless sky, studded with countless stars. As D’Arville had said, it was clear as day, and the old house looked quaint and pictures- que in the silvery rays. “ What a lovely night,” Una exclaimed. “Who says it is all fog in England! Your blue Canadian skies were never brighter than that, Monsieur D’Arville!” “The night is glorious, and old England a very pleasant place, Miss Forest. Hazelwood looks charming by moonlight.” “ And Eve’s gone to bed!” sententiously put in Hazel, following his glance. “ Her room is all in the dark. That’s a bran—new idea of hers; for of late she has taken to sit at the window and star-gaze. I believe the, girl’s in love!” “ And who is the happy man, petite?” smil- ingly inquired Una. ' ' “ Oh, a friend of ours; either Senor Mendez, Mr. Schafler, or Monsieur D’Arville, here. And,” said Hazel, with an innocent face, “I really don’t know which.” The dark Canadian face of D’Arville lit up with its rare smile. “ Mademoiselle, I thought Mr. Schaffer was your property 9” I _ “ Well, that’s the very reason why Eve might want him too. One girl always does want what another possesses, and tries to cut her out. I know I should myself!” “ A very amiable trait in young ladies’ characters. But, here We are at the ash-trees, and now for Miss Forest’s purse. ” But though they wandered up and down, and here and there, and in and out among the ash—trees, no glittering speck of gold and ebony flashed back the moonlight from the grass. “ We had better go over to the old well,” said Una, anxiously; “ it is just possible I may have dropped it there, and it is quite certain it is not here. ” The “ old Well” was some half-dozen yards oflf—-a. lonesome spot, shaded by gloomy ash— trees, where few ever went. The three turned their steps in that direction—steps that awoke no echo on the velvet sword—when Hazel sud- denly stopped and raised a warning finger. “ Hush!” she whispered; “listen to that!” “ It is voices, ” said D’Arville, lowering his own. “Some one is at the old well before us, and may have found your purse.” “Let us see who they are,” said Una. “ We can do it withort being seen ourselves. I don’t want to lose the purse, if I can help it. And——-—” . ' She stopped short, and laid her hand over Hazel’s mouth, to. stifle the cry that was break- ing from her at the sight they beheld. In the clear moonlight, under the old oak-trees, two figures stood distinctly revealed. There was no mistaking their identity. The tall young man was Paul Schaffer; the girl, wrapped in a large shawl familiar to all three, with strips of white plaster on her forehead, was Eve Ha- zelwood. Yes, Eve Hazelwood. There was no mistaking that beautiful face, that shower of shining hair, those lustrous black eyes, up- lifted to the man’s face. Together these two stood as only lovers stand, his arm encircling her waist, his head bent down until his own dark locks mingled with hers. They were talking, too, as only lovers talk; and as they moved away very slowly in an opposite direc- tion, the listening trio distinctly caught every word. It was Paul Schiffer’s laughing voice they heard first. " And so the'poor little Canadian schoolmas- ter has actually come to it at last, and you have won your bet. What a wicked little thing you are, Eve!” “And I’m going to write to Kate, to-mor- row,” said the voice of Eve—that sweet and silvery voice. “ It was the night of the fete— you remember, Paul—that she and I made that memorable bet that I would not have the flinty professor at my feet before the end of three months. Kate thought him like Achilles, invincible; but I knew" better, and to- day he came to it at last.” “Your fall was not so unlucky, then,’after all,” he laughed, and Eve joined in. “What would you say, Paul, if I told you the fall was more than half planned? He was so tiresome and so long coming to the point, that some ruse was necessary, and that was the only one I could think of. It anSWered the purpose admirably. Oh, you should have heard him!” “ You pretty little sinner! And What do you suppose I am going to say to such goings- on, Mistress Eve?” “Nothing at all, of course! You know I care for no one in the world but you, Paul. And I have not half done yet, for I mean to number Senor Mendez among my list of killed and wounded before I am satisfied.” “Now, Eve!” “ N ow, Paul!”——with pretty willfulness—“ I must, I tell you! My reputationas abeauty is at stake, and I feel in duty bound to humble the old grandee! Oh, what a splendid night it is! And they think I am sleeping the sleep of the just up in my room! My poor bruised forehead ”—-laughing gayly—“ was a fine ex- cuse to steal out and meet you.” “ Eve, What did you say to D’Arville?” “ Nothing at all. Do you think I am so poor a diplomat? But actions and looks, you know, sometimes speak louder than words. Oh, he has his answer, and is a happy man!” “Poor fellow! Eve, you ought to have a little mercy!” “Bah! you lecture, indeed! Why have you no mercy on Hazel? You do nothing but make love to her from morning till night, and pay no attention to me.” “ My dear Eve, you mistake. She makes love to me! As to not noticing you, is it not some of your provoking diplomacy ? 1 give you fair warning, I won’t stand it much long- er!” ' The girl clasped his arm with both hands, and looked up in his face, with laughing, lov~ ing eyes. “ You dear, cross, good-natured Paul! It won’t be necessary for you to stand it much longer. Once 'I have Conquered Monsieur Mustache Whiskerando, as Hazel calls him, I’ll be good and obedient, and let you have your own way in everything. You know well enough I care for nobody but you. Do I not run risk enough in meeting you like this?” There was a caress, and an answer breathed so low that they could not catch it; and then the lovers turned into a sidepath, and disap- peared. But both faces, as they turned, were for a second full toward them, with the bright moonlight shining full on them; and every ves- tige of doubt, if such a thing could still linger, vanished. Beautiful, treacherous, deceitful, it was indeed the face of Eve Hazelwood—all her black curls fluttering in the nightwind; and that other, bending over her, was Paul Schaffer, Hazel’s false lover. Then they were gone, and only the cold, mocking moonlight remained where they had stood. A spell seemed to have bound the three lockers—on to the spot. Their evanishment broke it. There was a sound, something be- tween a cry and a hysterical sob, from poor Hazel, as she grasped D’Arville’s arm. “ Oh, ,Monsieur D’Arville, it is Paul and Eve!” He had been standing as motionless as if changed to stone, his eyes never moving from the pair before him while they had remained. Now he turned to the poor little speaker, his face like white marble, but with pity in his deep, dark eyes for her. “ Yes, poor child! I have long known that this must come to you some day; but I never thought of its coming in this manner. We have both been deceived, Hazel—I far more than you.” “Can I believe my eyes! I feel as if I were dreaming! I always thought she disliked Mr. Schaifer,” said Una Forest, with a bewildered look. A smile, cold and bitter, and mocking, broke over D‘Arville’s face. I ' “ Did you not hear the reasonl—it was the young lady’s diplomacy—she wished to win her bets and make more conquests. I‘have known this long time Mr. Schaifer was one of her admirers; but Lwas so well deceived by the fair diplomat that I imagined the love was all on his side. Miss Wood, get up—you had better go back to the house.” Poor Miss Wood! She had sunk down on the wet grass, sobbing hysterically, sobbing as a little child does, who has lost a precious toy. D‘Arville raised her gently and drew her hand within his arm, and Hazel let herself be drawn away, ' weeping still, but “ passive to all changes.” “ You had better let her stay with you to; night, ‘Miss Forest,” he said, “and try and comfort her! Her dream has been broken- rudely and bitterly enoug .” “ I shall do my best,” Una said; “ but, good heavens! who cou d have imagined this was Eve Hazelwood? I thought her simple as a child—pure as a saint.” “ My mistake, exactly!” D’Arville said, with the same cold smile; “ I have often heard how fair an outside falsehood hath—I have never fully realized it before." “I shall inform Mr. Hazelwood to-morrow,” said Miss Forest, firmly; “it is my duty to put a stop to such shameful doings. Miss Eve will find shemust turn over a new leaf for the fu— ture.” ‘ D’Arville said nothing—his heart was far too sore and bitter for more words. When they entered the house and stood in the upper hall, on the way to their apartments, he stopped at his door and held out his hand to Una. “ Good-night, Miss Forest,” he said; “let me thank you now for all the kindness you have shown me since I have been in this house. Be good to this poor littlolgirl, and try and com- fort her, if you can.” He was gone, and his door was shut. stood looking at it, with a puzzled face. “ What does he mean—thanking me now, and with that look? He cannot mean to go! Oh, ‘pshaw! of course not! come along, Hazel!” She drew Hazel along to her room—poor Hazel, who did nothing but cry, and began early preparing for bed. " Don’t be a baby, ” was her consolatory ad- dress; “ wipe your eyes and go to del Let Mr. Schafl‘er go—he was only fooling you all the time, and everybody saw it but yourself!” “ Oh, I wish I was dead—I do!” was Hazel’s wicked but natural cry, her passionate sobs only increasing for their comfort. “ Oh, I wish I had never been born!” There was another in a room near, who, though he shed no tears, ttered no cry, was perhaps wishing the same in the bitterness of his heart. He was on his knees, not in prayer, alas! but packing his trunk, hustling every— thing in in a heap, as men do. It did not take long—the trunk was packed, locked, strapped, so was his portmanteau, and then he sat down at the table to write. It was a letter, and a short one. « “Sim—Pardon my hasty departure, but circum- stances render it unavoidable. I desire no remune- ration for the short time I have served you. Miss Forest may perhaps explain matters more fully. “Yours, respectfully, CLAUDE D‘ARVILLE.” The note was addressed to Mr. Hazelwood. Then, after a moment’s hesitation, he began another. “ MY DEAR Miss FOREST :——After the scene we wit— nessed to night, it is impossible for me to remain longer at Hazelwood. I leave by the first train this morning, for London—from there I will send an ad- oress to which my luggage can be forwarded. Thanking you once more for your est kindness, ano begging you to be good to poor azel, I ramain your sincere friend, I C. D‘ARVILLE." The gray datvn was creeping in, pale and cold, as he sealed this last, and arose. He put on an overcoat-for the air was chill, took his traveling~bag in his hand, and went down the grand stair—case, and out of the great hall- door of the Hazele mansion. And so, while Eve slept and dreamed rosy dreams of tomorrow, the gray and dreary dawn of that tomorrow saw him of whom she dreamed, flying far from her as fast as steam could carry him, to the busy world of Lon— don. Una CHAPTER XX. A s T o R M Y D A Y . RAIN lashing the windows, rain drenching the grass, rain dripping from the trees, rain blurring and blotting out every thing in a pale blank of sodden mist, and a high gale driving it in slanting lines before it—that was what Eve saw, looking from her chamber—window, next morning. A change had come over the night, and the cloudless sky and brilliant moon- light had been followed by a drear and dismal day. Agloomy prospect Eve’s dark eyes look~ ed on, the deserted avenue, the splashy country road beyond, the storm—beaten trees, writhing and tossing their long arms aloft, and the weird blast shrieking through them with a wild, half- human sort of cry. But the heart makes its ovm sunshine, and Eve was singing, half~un- conscious, with a smile on her face like a hap- py child, singing a snatch of the sweet ballad somebody—her somebody—had sung months ago, at Madam Schaffer’s fete: “ Ellen Adair, she loved me well, Against her father and mother’s will. To-da. I sat for an hour and wept , By Ellen’s grave on the windy hill. Sh she was, and I thought her proud-— bought her cold and fled o‘er the sea; _ Filled was I with folly and spite. When Ellen Adair was dyin for me. u» Cruel, cruel, were the words said, Cruel came they back to me.” She stopped short, and dropped the curtain over the window, with a delicious little shiv. r. “ What a song for me to sing this morning! Oh, how happy I am, and how good every one is to me! What a thankful heart I ought to have to the Author of all good gifts!” There was a picture over her bed—-“ Christ Blessing Little Children.” Eve’s face grew g‘favo and reverent, as she lifted her eyes to that divine countenance, so sublime ' in its calm majesty; and kneeling down, she bowed her head in her hands to say her morning- prayers. So long she knelt, that ten struck from the loud-voiced clock in the hall without, and a tap at the door only aroused her at last. She rose and opened it, and saw one of the housemaids standing there. ‘f Oh, is it you, Mary?” Eve said. “I sup— pose you have come to tell me breakfast is ready?” "‘ Yes, Miss, and Miss Forest is waiting. “ Is your fade better this morning, Miss?” ,“ Much better, thank you. Tell Miss Forest I will be down in a moment. ” She had taken the disfiguring court-plaster off, and only a few red scratches remained. Eve took a parting peep at herself in the glass to make sure that her curls were smooth and her collar straight; and thought, with a smile and a blush, as she ran down—stairs, she would not lookso very frightful in his eyes, after all. She might have spared herself the trouble. Una Forest only was in the room, standing at the table, waiting. One look at her face sent a chill to Eve’s bounding heart; and had it been carved out of an iceberg ora sno w-wreath, it could not havs been whiter or colder. Her thin, pale lips were cold, compressed, smileles ;; her eyes as devoid of light or warmth as the sapphire stone; and even the rustle of her Qua~ kerish gray dress had something chilling and repellent in its sound. Wherewas the kind, motherly, warm-hearted Una Forest of last night? Had she been a Changeling of the rad- iant moonlight, that had gone forever and vain- ished with it? “ I have kept you waiting, I am afraid,” Eve faltered, her air~castles shivering on their frail foundations. “ Yes,” Miss Forest coldly said; “ you have. Be good enough to take your place.” She poured out the coffee and passed the toast in a manner that effectually took away Eve’s appetite; but indignation was coming to her aid now,..and giving her courage. Miss Forest, watching her as a cat does some un- fortunate mouse it is going to devour presents ly, saw a hot red spot coming into either cheek, and a bright, angry light in either eye. What had she done to be treated like this? She had committed no crime, that she need be afraid. She would speak, and show Miss Forest she was no slave of her humors and whims. ' “ Where is cousin Hazel?" she demanded, looking up. ' Una Forest’s pale—blue orbs met the bright black ones with a glance so cold, so stern, so severe, and so prolonged, that the outraged crimson rose in a fiery tide to Eve’s brow. r “ You want to know where' Miss Wood is, do you?” “ Yes, Miss Forest.” “ Then she is in my room, where she has been all night, too ill to leave it.” Eve rose precipitately. ' “ Hazel sick! When—how—what is—Miss Forest, I must go to her at once!” Miss Forest pushed aside her plate and cup and roles, too.” “I beg your pardon. of the kind.” I“ “Miss Forest!” “ Miss Hazelwood—if that be your name-— I am mistress here, I think, and accustomed to be obeyed. You do not set foot in my room, either today or any other day, while you see fit to remain at Hazelwood Hall !” x Eve stood looking at her, utterly confound~ ed. Had Miss Forest suddenly gone mad? The cold, sweet voice of that pale little lady broke the brief silence. “ You thought no one was watching you last night, doubtless, when you held that shameful interview. You thought the lie you acted would never be discovered; but both are known now, and so are you, you Wicked and shame— less girl! And yet, after it all, you can dare to stand and look me in the face like this! Oh, I could blush for you, so young and so do. prayed!” “ Stand and look her in the face!” « ' Eve’s great dark eyes were dilating in utter bewilderment, to twice their natural size, while every trace of color was slowly fading from her face. ' ~ “ Go to your room, now,” Mim Forest’s piti- less voice continued, as she moved to the door; “to one more injured than I, I leave the task of upbraiding you. Go to your room, unhap- py girl, and remain there until sent for. ”, She was gone, but Eve never moved. She stood literally rooted to the spot, so complete— ly lost in wonder, so utterly-dumbfounded by this amazing and vague charge of ,crime, that she scarcely knew whether she were asleep or awake. She passed her hand over her face in a bewildered way. “What does she mean? What did she say I had done?” she asked herself, confusedly. “ I don’t understand at all! Go to my room and slay there! What will I do that for? I will not do it. No, I will not! If Miss Forest has gone mad, I will find out What she means.” Indignation had come to the rescue again. Eve‘s spirit, naturally bright, flashed up in her pale face, kindling a red glow there, and blaz- ed like black flame in the flashing eyes. Im— petuously, she started after Miss Forest, but Miss Forest was not to be found. She had given a brief order about dinner and had gone away, and the servants knew nothing of her. With a step that mug and rebounded, Eve marched across the upper hall, and knocked at her door. There was no answer; and though she knocked again and again, it was all labor lost. Eve stood and listened, the angry blood coursing tumultuously through every throb- bing vein. ’ “ She is in there, I know,” was her thought, “ and she hears me well enough. I shall not stir from here until she comes out, if I haveto wait the whole day long.” Too excited to stand still, the girl began pacing rapidly and vehemently up and down the long hall, watching the door that never opened. No, indeed; why should it, when there was another door within that chamber communicating with the lower hall, of which she knew nothing. So Eve trod up and down like a handsome young Pythoness going into training for expeditions as an Amazon sentry, while Miss Hazel was serenely attending to her duties down—stairs. So, while hour after hour of the dark, rainy day wore on, Eve You will do nothing paced her lonely beat undisturbed~for not even the housemaid came near hen—until she grew so completely exhausted that she could walk no longer. - Even then she would not leave, so sure was she that there was some one within; but seated herself within the wide win~ dew-ledge at the end of the hall, and gazed out at the bleared and desolate evening, with all its ' own gloom on her face. Oh, wherewas D‘Ar- ville’! Where was Hazel? Had. they all do sorted her tOgether’! Had they all gone crazed with Una Forest? (To be continued—commenced in No. 257.) * False Faces: THE MAN William A NAME. A MYSTERY 0’ “IE IBEAT HEIRN’MW. BY one. L. AIKEN, AUTHOR or “A Livnse LIE,” “SHARED To DEATH,” “BERNAL CLYDE,” “ELMA’s CAPTIVITY,” “emu, A STAR.” CHAPTER XXVI. “ our or TOWN.” ETTA’s eyes lingered pleasantly upon Chee— ter Starke’s frank and manly face. He was there with her father’s indorsement, and that was sufficient to incline her mind favorably toward him. She felt that she could accept him as a friend, for her father’s sake—and a little for his own; for she was favorably impressed by his appear- ance. You may imagine that this was a case of “love at first sight ” between them. Perhaps it was. But I think all cases of love begin at first sight, only some, as in all other cases, are more violent than others. The nature of the attack depends upon the temperament and disposition of the patient. Kate now insisted that Etta should have a cup of coflfee and a little lunch. “For you’ must feel faint,” she said. Etta acknowledged that alittle refreshment would not come amiss, and they all went into the kitchen of the other apartments. By the time Etta had finished her slight re~ past, Frank Ray arrived with the carriage. He was duly presented to Etta, who looked at him with as much interest as she had at Chester Starks. Indeed Kate, whose keen eyes were ever on the watch, thought her fa- vor was extended more to Ray than to Ches- ter. “I do believe she‘s going to like him the best,” she told herself. “ Well, I’ve one conso- lation-mthere’s two of them, and she can’t have them both!” It was very evident that Kate had fully re- solved upon the conquest of one of these young men. The trunk that held Etta’s and Kate’s ward- robes in common was taken down—stairs, and the whole party followed it, Kate being last, and taking the keys with her. It was arranged that she was to return upon the morrow, dispose of the furniture to some second-hand dealer, keeping the proceeds as her perquisite, and surrender the keyes to the land— lord. They entered the carriage, Ray takings. seat with the coachman, and were driven away. The tenement house was abandoned for good. Henceforth the heiress of Genni Bartyne was to live in the condition that befitted her birth. They conversed very pleasantly as they rode along, though Etta took little part in the con- versation. She leaned back in her seat, rest- ing her head against the cushion, with half- closed eyes, still feeling a lassitude from the effects of the chloroform, but an expression of supreme content rested upon her pale features. Kate, however, made amends for her silence by a vivacious volubih‘ty, which Chester Starks found somewhat annoying. He sat beside her on the front seat, Genni Bartyne and Etta occupying the back seat, and Kate observod that his eyes rested almost con- stantly upon Etta’s face, and all her small-talk could not divert his attention from it. His re- joinders to Kate’s remarks were very absently given. ‘ Genni Bartyne was in the best of spirits, and he laughed and joked with Kate, telling her that she would soon see Ossian Plummer, and she must make a conquest of his heart. The conceit of mating the gaunt superintendent to this mercurial girl greatly pleased Bartyne. “ You’re just the wife he wants,” he cried. “You‘re just the woman to stir his sluggish blood into activity.” Thus, between them, they about monopolized the entire conversation; but the ride proved a very pleasant one to Chester and Etta, although they had so little to say. The house in Eightieth street was reached, and the whole party alighted, to the great sur- prise of Ossian Plummer, who met them at the gate. The colored visage of the servant was also to be seen as she protruded her head from the basement door, and rolled the whites of her eyes curiously, as much surprised as Ossian himself at this unexpected arrival. Ray took the trunk from the driver and dis- missed the carriage, and he bore it into the house after the others, as Ossian ushered them. . ~ ‘* Here she is, Ossian; here’s my daughter!” cried Bartyne, proudly, as they entered the cosy little parlor. “ Etta, this is the best friend your father ever had.” “ A lovely child!” exclaimed Ossian, with unusual fervency; and to the surprise of all be advanced toward Etta. with outstretched arms, with the evident intention of embracing her. But be checked himself suddenly, pausing awkwardly, as if. remembering himself, and, blushing like a woman. Genni Bartyne laughed merrily. “Oh! kiss her, Ossian, if you wish to,” he cried. “ Etta won‘t mind, for you’ll be like another father to her.” “ I will kiss him!” exclaimed Etta. “ I will show him that I appreciate his friendship to you, father. ” And she did kiss him, to the intense envy of Chester Starks.” Ossian returned the kiss with all a father’s tenderness, and he held the fair young girl for a moment fondly in his arms, gazing earnestly in her face. “ God bless you, child l" he said, in a voice that trembled with emotion. “ The possession of such a daughter is enough to gladden any father’s heart. “You’re proud of her, Peter—4 can see that—and well you may be. Oh! I can feel what joy must fill your heart. Is she like her mother!” “ Her very image!” answered Bartyne. Ossian laid his hand caressineg upon Etta’s head, as if to call down a blessing upon it. ' “ You are found, child—found, pure and in— nocent; may Heaven always keep you so!” he exclaimed, earnestly. Though they were inclined to laugh at this little episode, at first, the deep earnestness of Ossian‘s manner checked their mirth, and gave a solemnity to the scene.