sere ‘ i i . Pee | SMOOTH SKIN BEAUTIFUL COMPLEXION FOLLOWS TOE USE OF HELMBOLD’S CONCENTRATED EXTRACT SARSAPARILLA. It removs black spots, pimples, moth patches, and all eruptions of the skin. IN THE SPRING & SUMMER MONTHS The system naturally undergoes a change, and HELMBOLD’S Highly Concentrated EXTRACT OF SARSAPARILLA IS AN ASSISTANT OF THE GREATEST VALUE. YCUNG LADIES, BEWARE! OF THE INJURIOUS EFFECTS of Face Powders and Washes. All such remedies close up the pores of the skin, and in a short time destroy the complexion. If you would have a fresh, healthy, and youthful appearance, use oe eS wer BY CLIO STANLEY. . Good-night! Tis but a little while Of doubt, and fear, and pain, Ere, under day’s sweet, sunny light, We two shall meet again! Gcod-night! Soft shadows downward creep, The day is doomed to die; She bids her sweetest flowers farewell, Why shonid not you and I? They sleep, dear love, and night's still dews Brighten their tender bloom. Ah, would not we for such bright life, Endure a little gicom? Good-night! good-night ?* and if it be That no more, hand in hand, We tread the pleasant boundaries Of this sunny border-land. Yet in a world of cloudless skies, Where flowers, immortal bloom, Will greet the morning light that breaks The darkness of the tom. BY THE PEERLESS AUTHOR. The Rose of Kendale. By the Author of ‘Peerless Cathleen,’? and “Lady of Grand Court.’? [Tie Rose of Kendale’ was commenced in No. 20. Back num- bers can be had trom News Agents throughout the country.] CHAPTER XVII. ‘hen first I met thee, warm and young, There suone such hope about thee, And on thy lip such promise hung, Idid not dare to doubt thee.—Moorx’s MELoptEs. It seemed that the clatter of the horses’ feet had ceased —the troup had passed on some other way; and now the carriage stopped before the tlireshold of a tall, gloomy, evil-looking house of seven stories. The street was nar- HELMBOLD’S EXTRACT SARSAPARILLA. NOT A FEW row, dark, fetid in odor; a few wive-shops of the lowest cluss were the only places where trade seemed to be flourishing. Evangeline looked deadly white, through fear. Har- grave offered her his arm to descend, with an expression of the most chivalrous deyotion on his handsome face. She almost tottered to the ground; then Eustace was lifted out, and in silence old Ephraim paid the cabman, | who drove off without uttering a word. Still obeying tue silent, imperious gestures of Ephraim, Hargrave lifted the head and shoulders of Eustace in his strong grasp, and between him and Ephraim, he was Of the worst disorders that afflict mankind arise from corruption of the blood. HELMBOLD’S EXTRACT SARSAPARILLA IS A REMEDY OF THE UTMOST VALUE. HELMBOLD’S carried intothe house, 3nd upthe filthy, winding, nar- row stairs. Where will not the step of love follow the beloved one? All up the unutterably loathsome staircase; up, up, in- terminabie, lengthening out, it seenicd, as they proceed- ed. Evangeline followed, gasping fer breath, and yet not once faltering—not ounce looking back toward the fresher air, and the escape from the horrible mansion, At length there seemed to be a pause—they had reached the sunmit. Ephraim put a key into a door, turned it, and entered a garret paved with round, red tiles; but the arrangement of everything in the little den was the per- fection of neatness. .The bricks shone with Cleanliness; there was a square of green carpet in the middle of the floor; the bed was made, and neatly covered with a coun- terpane of black, scarlet, and blue cloth. There were only two chairs; but there was a little writing-table, EXTRACT SARSAPARILLA | Washesiaus, and’ lasts, & glowing tire roaring 32 Cleanses and renovates the blood, insiils the vigor of health into the system, and purges out the humors that maKe disease. QUANTITY vs. QUALITY. HELMBOLD’S EXTRACT SARSAPARILLA. | The dose is small. Those who desire a large quantity and large doses of medicine ERR. THOSE WHO DESIRE BRILLIANCY OF gleaming bright. ; 5 B Ephraim locked the door of his strange little domicile, put the key into his pocket, and then laid the still insens- ible Eustace upon the bed. Evangeline sank upon a chair by his side, and bent over him. ‘ He was in the deepest, the most perfect, the most tran- quil of sleep—a repose like that of a child of three years old. His face had even taken a little color on the cheek, and the beautiful lips were slightly apart, showing the gleaming of the white teeth. “He will sleep,’’ said old Ephraim, offering the remain- ing chair to his other guest. which Hargrave as court- eously declined. ‘He wiil sleep till this time to-morrow. Ibave thrown him into a mesmeric slumber, the most ‘profound of which humanity is capable. To-morrow night he will accompany me toa house I[ havein Nor- mandy; he will be ill some time—vwill need careful watch- ing and tending.” | }evangeline clasped her hands. “Let me come,’? she said; “oh, Mr. Ephraim, let me come and be his nurse, his sister, his servant.’’ Hargrave almost shuddered at the passion, the self- abasement of her words. She, the delicately reared, the highly born, the beautiful; #e, worse than a beggar, hunt- ed of the law, ragged. lost to all sense of seli-respect, # ruined, wretcned man, shipwrecked on the quicksands of Compice xion passion, and, bitterest pang of ail, thankless forthe great Must purify and enrich the blood, which HELMBOLD’S CONCENTRATED boon of her love, rude, insolent in his misery to the deli- eate aristocratic creature WO knelt at his feet. Hargrave ventured to interpose, “Evangeline—Miss Stanfield,” he exclaimed, “you could not! Yow accompany this gentleman and your friend into the country ?”? “] suppose you mean to say the world would talk about me?’ she said, with a curl of her lip. “Well, I will give it-leave. Hideous old women over their whist shall shuffle EXTRACT OF SARSAPARILLA | away my fair name among tbetr cards, shall mix it in Invariably does. Ask for HELMBOLD’S. Take no other. HELMBOLD’S CONCENTRATED EXTRACT SARSAPARILLA IS THE GREAT BLOOD PURIFIER. HELMBOLD’S HIGHLY CONCENTRATED FLUID EXTRACT SARSAPARILL ERADiCATES ERUPTIVE AND ULCERATIVE t tions of feeling. Diseases OF THE TURGAT, NOSE, EYES, EYELIDS, SCALP, AND Skin, Which so disfigures the appearance, PURGING the evil eff-cis Of mercary, abd removing all taints, the remnants of DISEASES, hereditary or otherwise, and is taken by ADULTS and CHILDREN with perfect SAFETY. TWO TABLE-SPOONFTULS of the Extract of Sarsaparil- la, added to a pint of water, is equal to Lisbon Diet Drink, and one bottie is equal to a gallon of the Syrup of Sarsa- parilla, or the decoctions as usually made. AN INTERESTING LETTER is published in the Medico- Chirurgical Review, on the subject of the Extract of Sar- saparilla, in certain affections, by Benjamin Travers, F, R.S. Speaking of those diseases, and diseases arising from the excess of mercury, he states that ro remedy is equal to the Extract of Sarsaparila; its power is extra- ordinary, more so than any other drug Lam acquainted with. Jt is, in the strietest sense, a tonic, with this in- valuable attribute, that tt is applicable to a state of the System so sunken, yet so irritable, as renders other sub- stances ofthe tonic class unavailable or injurious. HELMBOLD’S Concentrated Extract SARS APA RILLA, Established upwards of 19 years. PREPARED aT H.'T. Helmbold’s DRUG AND CHEMICAL WAREHOUSE, 594 BROADWAY, N. Xi) And 104 8O0UTU TENTH STREET, PHILADELPHIA. Sold by druggists everywhere, Price $650 fer six bot- tles, or $125 per bottle, delivered to any address. Nove are genuine unless done up in ad ‘steel engraved wrapper, With Jac siniile of my chemical Warehouse, and signed Wi. T. HELMBOLD. with the aroma of their strong tea. Young girls shall shrug their shoulders, and thank Heaven they were brought up differently. Young genulemen whose atten- | tions have not flattered me, and for which attentions I | have been ungrateful, shall (if they like) whisper to their | friends ‘that they were mistaken in that girl.’ Allof this will sound to me as idle and not so musical as the voices of the winds and the roar of the » aves at Earnscliff.” ; “Oh, you are cruel, cruel!’ said the young man, and he covered his face with his hands and sobbed. “Even as is your love for that young man, so is my love for you, ; Evangeline. Suffering, and scorn, and reproach shall not drive ine away. Iam still your slave, Evangeliue—your ‘ slave till death; but I would not have you do what should { give tne cruel worid leave to talk. It would so pafu me ‘to hear it profane your pure bame.”’ | “Forgive me, Wargrave,” she cried out, suddenly pene- trated with the strength and earnestness of his devotion, | his unselfishness, his noble purity, and she offered hun pos hand, which he took and kissed with a passion of ecstacy. Just for a moment arose in the feminine heart of Evan- geline a comparison between the two young men—thie } one lost through disappointed passion, the other, while | suffering the bitterest of disappointments, still brave, { gentile, self-sacrificing. i ‘he human heurt is capable of strange sudden revolu- For a@ moment—jusct for a moment— : Evangeline felt staggered by the vision of truth, unsel- } fish constancy, aba noble Manliness which her soul saw ‘as through a Vista, and the sleepiug Eustace sank into a ; position less exalted. She understood how that disap- {pomted love had made him selfish, brutal, reckless, in- {stead of ennobling him; and while intense pity swelled j in her soul, 1¢ seemed to her that for an instant love wus ; gone. He came back, however, the next moment, plant- ed his arrow in her suffering heart; and in place of the warm enthusiasm for Hargrave which had kindled itsell in ber soul, there arose only that cold respect, that pas- sioniess gratitude, which had ever been the utmost ot her regard for the young Sailor, Then old Epbraim arose, and put his hand solemnly upon the head of Evangeline. “Bless you,’? he said, “vless you for your unrequited love for him, As for her—she who has ruined him body and soul—as for her husband—fox-hunting Chesterton!” —us Ephraim uttered that name, his deep-sunk eyes flashed, aud he stamped upon tie ground—*you shall see their punishment. He,’ pointing io the sleeping young man, “might soon ride over their heads if te would. His day is coming. Alas! | waited too long. [ waited till the fruit was too ripe; and | lear it will crumble to ashes in my mouth. He would only rave on about her if you gave hin. England to-morrow for ils lieritage, and placed a crown upon his brow. He would laugh at principalities and powers. He is lost forthe loveof a woman. But you, bright lady, shall not lose name or fame if it please you to travel withus into Normandy to-morrow night. Bring your maid with you, and hire a lady-companion. Take a carriage and pack into it all necessaries; then drive on to Vernon, a spall farm on the Rouen line, meet the train that will stop there at half-pasi twelve to-mor- row night, and Come on—come on with me, and—my boy —you, you may save him at last—who can say Y’? Evangeline stared in wonder at the odd old man. “My boy—mine,’? he repeated, firmly; “he was a pris- oner. Heis execrated. J] fear he is on the rapid road to deuth; but he is to ride aloft first—yes, first.” Evangeline!’ exclaimed Hargrave, ‘you will not—you dare not dosuch a thing, Oh! may I Kneel, may I im- plore?’ and the excited young wan sank upon his knees. Old Ephraim looked at him steadlly, “She will not take harnf in following us, I tell you, young man. | love ier—yes, as if she were my child; and Ll would not counsel her to her shame. Oh, the world sball hear of strange tidings ip a few days. Place anu power, paluce and pearls shall cramble away from the hands of the cruel as the splendors in the Arabian tale fade into emptiness und darkness. I tell you she shall have no shame if she accompanies us, Trust me. Come with her as escort, if you will, She shall have a lady-companion, and her maid—who can say anything ?? “{ have my mother in Paris,’ said Hargrave. “She adores me; she would give me her life if I asked it. Shall my mother come, Evangeline? and inay I be your escort 7?” sa it as you will,’ answered Evangeline, list- essly. Her thoughts had again grouped themselves about the seuseless, unconscious Enstace. “Ic is arranged, then!’ exclaimed Ephraim. ‘Join these friends—4ruavel in the night—trust yourself with me. You need bring no money,” added old Ephraim, with a®% pecullar glance at Hargrave; “1 have ample for us al), And now, my young friends, 1 am about to dismiss you, ihave most important writing te do; but first——” 26-2 Here he went to a cupboard in the wall, and took out a THE NEW YORK WEEKLY. long bottle and two high glasses. He drew the cork from the bottle, and poured out a liquor of a pale yellow color, which frothed in the glass like champagne, “Drink this,’??> he said; “it is not alcoholic. vive you, and do you both good.” Beth Evangeline and Wargrave felt a certain confidence inthe old man. They were, besides, both of them fa- tigued and thirsty. ‘They drank the pale, frothing liquid, which was cool and delicious to the palate, and then they both of them arose and bade the old man good atter- noon. ‘Bless you! oh, bless you, for saving him!’ cried Evan- géline, bursting into tears. “To you I say bless you! Oh, bless you, for loving him!” replied the old man; tenderly. And then he clasped and even kissed the hand of Miss Stanfi2ld; and the young lady descended the narrow Stairs, and found her way to tue squalid street,and from thence, leaning onthearm of Hargrave, toa cab-stand, where che tovk a carriage, and was driven to her sisier’s 10use. How the next day passed, what hasty preparations she made for the wild journey, she could never afterward remember; but the mother of Hargrave was, as her son had represented her, an adoring mother. She acted un- der the auspices of Harry, and she actually drove to the door of Lord Chesterton and invited Miss Stanfield to ac- company her on a visit to some friends in Normandy, as her son had pressed her to go there with him, and she had no lady friend whom she believed would enjoy a trip into the country so much as Miss Stanfield, who had late- ly been looking so pale. Hargrave was presumptive heir toa barontcy, he was possessed of a good private fortune, and he was cousin to some dozen lords; therefore the worldly Claribel saw no reason to oppose her sister’s intimacy with the family. It thus came to pass that Evangeline set off in the carriage with Mrs, Hargrave, unopposed by any Of her relations. It was astormy afternoon of winter. Now and anon there fell blinding, violent showers of hail and half-frozen rain. Then the wind uprose and shrieked along the country roads, through which the clesely-shut carriage was driving. Harry Hargrave had told his mother everything—his own wild, hopeless love for Evangeline, and her strange, blind devotion to a man who loved her not. Mrs. Hargrave was a little, dark, enttusiastic woman, With impetuous feelings, kept oniy in check by a natural and delicate refinement, but she adored her son with a passionate adoration, else would she never have consent- ed to travel she knew hot where, 10 meet she knew not whom, and to incur the responsibility of conducting Miss Stantield on an extraordinary expedition which had for its end the sheltering of an escaped prisoner, about whose wonderful deliverance, by divt ol mesmeric influ- ence, all Paris was chattering. =. Tne echoes of this strange story ed London. Mrs. Hargrave, we repeat, loved her son as few mothers love. She was the reverse, the very antipodes of the Countess of Kendale, who had driven her son into exile and broken lis wife’s heart by her crueities. It will re- indeed even reach- Mrs. Hargrave, looking at the beautiful face of Evange- line, felt her heart stir with angeragainst the young lady. She to refuse her son—to run away with indifference from precious love like his; what could her lieart be made of ? The two ladies traveled for some time in silence, each occupied with her own thoughts. Nor was this silence broken until Vernon was reached, the town where they were tomeet Ephriam Hargrave and the unhappy pa- tient, Eustace, It was not much more than half-past nine. When this town wasreached they drove to a hiotel, ordered tea, and waited in one of the drawing-rooms by the side ofa glow- ing fire, for the hour at which it would be proper to go co the train. Evangeline cast off her bonnet and heavy wrappings, and sat with her eyes fixed on the fire, buried in pro- foundest thought. Mrs. Hargrave watched her. At last she said, suddenly: *You look very, very sad, my dear, I wish I could com- fort you; but what am I to do, or say, or advise?’ “Alas, dear, Kind Mrs. Hargrave |’? cried Evangeline. “How much 1 owe you for giving me your protection in this expedition, otherwise I suppose the world would have talked away my fair pame as is the wont of the world, and its chief pastime, unless you had come with me. Mrs. Hargrave smiled sadly. “I pity you, my dear; but it seems to me so unaccount- able that you should distress yourself with any deeper feeling than the philantrophy of a friend for this poor, dear young man, Wliom your sister has maddened. 1] blame you not for going to see him, for assisting him to escape, even for following himup now on his removal, that you may judge whether ornot he will be well and tenderly cared for, but that you should feel for him any- thig more than warm, tender, sisterly affection—oh, that surpasses me |? “As if,’ replied Evangeliney with a gloomy smile, ‘‘one heart could take measure of the feelings of another? asif one human soul could gauge another? Itis a weakness —a meanness—a faulty, unfeminine feeling to love where there is no return! Be it so. Lam Weak, mean, un- reminine even, Mrs. Hargrave.”’ And Evangeline smiled an angry, bitter smile, Her feelings were evidently so genuiue, her suffering so real, that much of Mrs. Hargrave’s anger melted away while she looked at her, and listened to her, “Theresis one,” said the mother, after a pause; ‘owe who feel§ the same hopeless hove for you which you wasje upon anosher.” et “Your son?’ pressed her hand upon her beating heart. “Ah, Mrs, Hargrave, I sometimes wish I had never seen Eustace, for then—then assuredly I shonld bave loved Hargrave; he is the model of an English gentleman, brave as a lion, gentle as a dove, handsome, giited with fine powers ol mind, excellent tastes, charming manners, spotless name; he loves me—and yet, yet 1t is Ull nothing, worse than nothing—there is another, execrated, lost, mad, wicked in his miséry; and yet himm—all ggunt and ill, and savage and ragged as he is, I love, 1 lovey i love!” And the voice of the passionate girl rose into a wail. Mrs. Hargrave was abgry no more with this girl who did not love her son. She saw how a giant passion for another possessed her like a spirit stronger than her poor humanity. At the appointed time the two ladies drove to the sta- tion there to meet the train from Paris. They had not to wait long. Presently it came puffing up, stepped, and Hargrave leaped out on the platform. He grasped the hand of his mother and of Evangeline, then whispered: ‘All right—get in!” and be helped them into the luxurious first-class carriage, where a lamp cast a pleasant, subdued light upon the soft purple draping. Leaning back amid the padded spring cushions was William Eastace, white and rigid, only the occasional twitching of his lip showed Het he was alive, for there was mpon his faultiess face Stotiy look of death. Evangeline started when she saw him—stairted and grew white as he was himself, By his side was old Ephriam, dressed in black like a docior, a black velvet cap on lis head, his peculiar hatch- et face lighted up by a keen expression of intense anxiety. “Does he leok ill?” he asked, eagerly, of Evangeline. “J__] have had him with me ever since yesterday, and 1 cannot so easily see the change.” “Oh,” cried tvangeline, ‘it is the face of one who ap- prouches the unknown country,’ She took her place, ag she spoke, opposite to Eustace, and Mrs. Hargrave aud ber son ranged themselves on tlie sume side. Then the train moved on. ‘He 1s vnconscious,”’ said Ephriam, “and nothing will rouse him; no, not for an instant. Oh, my pour boy! my poor boy!”? And the strange old man wrung his hands. It was a weird, unearthly journey that; the storm rose and the wind howled above the rvar of the engine. Old Ephriam, in his black, long coat, velvet skull cap, and with eager hatchet face, looked almost like some nec- rowancer of the middle ages. The unconscious Eustace, whose splendid dark eyes seemed fixed on some fathvmmless mystery apart from the earth and its inhabitants, was another being, unique, majestic, awful in hisabstraction. One felt while Jookiug at him that his soul might be discoursing with spirits. Hargrave and his mother Watched the pale, tearful Evangeline. , And so the night sped on, and the train with it, and it was abont four o’clock of a Winter’s morning when they stopped at a certain little quaint town in Normandy, which we will cail Bao, Here old Ephriam descended; and now it appeared that unconscious, stiriess, aS Eustace had been during the journey, he Was still capable of mechanical movement, and when Ephriam called to him to arise he absojutely staggered to his leet with the assistance of Llargrave, and stepped on to the platform, Hvangeline followed. Hargrave hastily enveloped her in a cloak, and then she perceived that a carriage was Waitlug—a close carriage drawn by two horses. “Enter—enter!”’ cried Ephriam, in a tone of command. The whole party were burried into the carriage, which was large and commodious, and the prancing horses sprang away ata pace which proved their high breeding. Mrs. Hargrave inight well question whither she was going, only her perfect trust in her son’s judgment reas- sured her; apd now there was an hour’s fast driving, and then the carriage stopped before the tall iron gates oi some country chateau. A call was answered by the gates falling back, and the carriage rolled under an avenue of trees, A long drive brought them in front of am enormous chateau of gray stone, which stood out pale and huge against the dark aiate sky, which was relieved only by the faint glimmer of stars. “Welcome,” said old Ephriam, as he descended, ‘to the Chateau of Roses—ihuat is the name I have given, ladies, to the property which I have bought; it is prettier than its old historic title of the ‘Chateau Noir,’ or the Black Chateau,’ “A property he has bought ?’* murmured Evangeline, to herself. ‘Weird and wonderful old Epiriam, did he not sell his gooseberries and Carrots in the market town every Saturday? did ne not work hard? and except that he told fortunes, did not the vijlagers account him as one of them- selves? Is he really in league with spiritual powers that, he has been able to buy himself a property hke this?” and a shiver ran through her frame. Meanwhile a servant had rung the house-bell, and tne door feil back. The whole party were perfeculy dazzled by the blaze of light winch burst upon them now, The hall which they entered was very lofty, for the roof went up to the top ol the house; a great, winding stair- case of black marble led up with a grand and palace-like sweep to the upper yooics; the floorof the hall was a Mo saic of green jasper and biack marbie. There were statues of knights in armor standing all round the hall. Each knight was carved from a block of black marble. A lurge, cried Evangeline, qnickly—and she | pe = 2 Dae ITT = bright fire burnt in an enormous fire-place; spread befure it Was a rich carpet of gorgeous scarlet, purpie, and gold, and green; and there were chairs and couches of purple and gold placed round a table laid out with a dainty mag- niflcence that might have honored a king’s repast Two for beauty and rarity in design. this house the Cnateau of Roses. One of the remarkabie features was that each knight held in his hand a fantastically shaped basket of china, in which was placed earth, and wherein bloomed a rose tree covered with exquisite blossoms—some were faint pink, some glowing vermeil, some yellow, some delicate White, some rich crimson. Upon the table were three enormous vases of gold enameled with jet, one centre vase, and ene at each end of the board; roses and white camelias flourished in each of these vases. The perfume from the whole, drawn out by the heat of the fire, filled the majestic apartment with a delicious fragrance. Three servants, in a fantastical livery of black and gold, appeared suddenly upon the scene, and the sound of the drawing of corks and the bubbling of wine made a liquid music. Then, to the ever-increasing surprise of Evangeline, old Ephraim turned round and spoke to these servants in flowing, fluent, graceful French, untinged with English accent. Afterward, bowing to the ladies and to Hargrave, he entreated them to seat themselves and to partake of his poor hospitality. Three other servants entered at the same moment, bear- ing various hot dishes, and, in fine, the whole party sat down to this strange, splendid feast. Eustace, leaning agawinst the soft, purple cushions of a high-backed chair, looked still with his abstracted gaze into vacancy; nor could the utmost efforts of Ephraimin duce him to lift his gilded fork to his lip. One of the servants handed a goblet bubbling over with champagne to Ephraim, who held it to the lips of Kustace. Then the young man drank slowly, and with effort, but any attempt to make him taste food was worse than use- less. Handsome, stony, abstracted, the unhappy young man was indeed as a specter at the feast. Fatigue and long fasting, combined to make all the oth- ers enjoy the repast. When it was over, and there only remained wine and fruit on the table, old Ephraim pray- ed his guests to turn toward the fire. Evangeline and Mrs, Hargrave had cast off their cloaks and wraps. Mrs. Hargrave gave signs of weariness, but Evangeline, her eyes fixed on the half-reclining form of Eustace, looked the impersonation of a deep unrest. Hargrave ventured to walk over to the couch whereon she sat, and to take his place beside her. “] trust, ladies and geutlemen,’”? said old Ephraim, bowing to all of his guests, *‘that you will kindly consid- er the Chateau of Roses as your home, and the servitors as your sei vitors, while you remain here, Every arrange- ment for your comfort has been made—fires in all the rooms, hot-water pipes laid on, and a bath-room to every chamber. If you want in-door amusements, there is a billiard-room, an adinirable library, several pianos and other musical instruments, I hope you will like my pic- tures and statues; 1 flatter myself that I have a tolerably fine collection, My stud is a good one, and if the ladies like driving out, L have four different carriages. I hope you wiil be able to while away the time until next. week, when I have engaged a troupe of actors from Paris to come and perform a certain piece, of which I am the an- tuor, and which all the gentry of the neighborhood will be invited to witness slso. I Shall ask several guests from Paris—among them the Right Honorable the Earl of Chesterton, and his countess.”? Evangeline almost started to her feet with amaze when Ephraim spoke thus, then pointing to Eustace, she ex- claimed: “They will see him—take him to prison! Whatdo you “No, mean ?? “They dare not—they will not,” replied Ephraim, [ have a safe talisman to protect him, nay, to bring them bending to his feet, even as in the story in Holy Wnit, the Hebrew brothers came bowing tothe feet of Joseph, whom they had sold to be a bond-servant; but, ch, it is too late! too late!’—he clenched his hand and shook it with an expression of hopeless anguish in the air, ‘Had 1 been quicker, had I not waited tosee my plot ripen too long, 1 would have taught him’—pointing to Eustace— “to laugh in their faces; put I boped, I prayed, that be might learn tolove you. QOh,.poor human hature, how it deceives itseif!”.and the old man sobbed; then raising his head suddeply, and dashing the tears from his eyes: “Even yet 1 will humiliate them; I will make Ches- terton bite the dust, and She—she shall, weep such croco- dile tears‘as those weep whose mean ambitions are foiled.” : ; “Mr, Ephraim,” said Evaneeline, “yon are not what you appeured at Earnsclitf.. Whom, sir, have I the honor of addressing ? But the answer of the old man was strange and eva- See o4 “Tam known in this neighborhood as the Chevalier of the Chateau of Roses. In Paris they cull me Monsieur le Comte de Bellchase, for I have bought a patent of French nobility, and Lam on intimate tering with his Majesty the Emperor. Tbis I say not to boast,’? added the oid man, bowing and smiling, “but because I would haye Miss Stanfield to understand that in accepting tre poor hospitality of the Comte de Bellchase she runs no risk of being accused of associating with those of mauvais ton. Oh, world, world, how enipty are thy honors! how false thy painted gauds! Not all thy gilded glorics could re- store reason, or give length of days to him who lics ‘there wrecked @n the Is of passion!? But Ephraim had called And then tne ola man. bowed bis white head, and his strange, powerful face was hidden from the gaze ol Eyangeline. CHAPTER XVIII. For lucre’s sake and sordid gold, The gentie, lovely maid was’sold, And sent to sweil a mournful band Of captives in a foreign land.—Otp BaLiap, We left Fancliette standing by the side of Elsie, in Kensington Gardens, and Mrs, Jonas Todd scolding her, that lady dressed meanwhile ina suitof superb violet velvet. . “{ was doing no harm, madam,” cried Fanchette; “this isan old, old friend of mine, who has known me eyer since I was a little child.” mt. ‘ “A nice companion, truly,’? sneered Mrs, Todd; ‘‘a nice person to have near my childreu, whom I wish brought up as ladies.” : “Like their mamma!” cried Elsie, who was always ready with an answer. ‘ i ‘ “Terrivie woman!” cried Mrs. Todd, frowning. | “I will have you given in charge of the police!’ ; Fanchette glanced about in terror. Sucha thing might be done, sie feared, and she. was relieved to see that no officer of the law was within hail. “And now linsist upon your coming home at once,” stormed Mrs. Todd. “If I had not a party to-night, and if I did not wish you to play the piano for quaurilles, 1 would turn you off this very moment.”’ “Stop,” exciaimed Elsie; “your address, Lady Fan- chette.’? Tne title sounded strangely inthe ears of Mrs. Jonas Todd, who stared, and frowned, and wondered for an instant. “15, Bayshiil Crescent, Bayswater,’’ replied Fanchette. “And, Elsie, be cautious. Ob, if news comes from Italy, if ” “What is allthis wild talk about Lady somebody—l missed the name!’ cried Mrs. Todd. ‘You do not think, Miss Ivan, 1 bope and trust, that lam so weak as to be taken in by yonder woman’s cant, and tou suppose you some earl’s daugiiter in disguise ?” “Oh, no, madam,” cried Fanchette, growing white to the lips with fear of discovery. ‘Oh, no; 1 hope you will not have any such thoughts,” “I know this, tnat iam beginning to grow very, very dissatisfied with you,’’ exclaimed Mrs, Todd; ‘‘and unless you reform, i shall be under the necessity of dismissing yon. Come alorg.”’ Fanchette- hurried away, and Mrs, Todd made her en- ter the carriage. Tne whole drive home she kept on scolding. That evening, dressed in her plain, black silk, stately as a duchess, beautiful a8 a princess in @ fairy tale, Fan- chette entered Mrs. Jonas Todd’s drawipg-rocms, The carpets had been rolled up, the gaudy furniture put aside, the grand piabo Was 1p a recess, and straight to- ward that waiked Lady Fanchette, with a slight bow to those assembled, Close to the piano stood a tall, fair young man. A quizzing, mocking expression was in his blue eyes. Where in the wide world had Fanchette met him be- fore? He was thorougily well-bred, a perfect gentle- man, that it was easy to perceive, aud far superior fo the generality of Mrs. Toda’s usual guests, He looked earnestly ut Fancuette, started violently, wondered, as she had done, where they bad met before, and then, as she bent ber beautiful face toward the inatru- ment, he approached her and exclaimed: “Great Heavens! Lady Fanchette Germain!” “Hush, hush, hush, l entreat, implore youl’? she ex- claimed, “Qh, if you understood my horror of the doom I? “I know all, Lady Fanchette,” he replied; ‘England has rung With your story; aud ] marvel that you do not place yourself under the protection of the law. It would sbicld you from the fate you dread. Great Heaven ! and to think of such exalted beauty, such bigh breeding, ac- cepting a postition of servitude in the family of the in- tensely vulgar Jonus Touds. Oh, Lady Fanchette, you do yourself tujustice. My father and mother, the Hamiltons, a wel known county family iu your own county will gladly receive you until the law protects you from the countess, Nay, let me entreat you to leave to-morrow, J and my sister will call Jor you ina carriage.” The reader will pertaps recollect Hamilton, agay young gentleman, Duval’s companion, when he first went to iook at Lady Fapchette throug: the tvees at Kendale. Fanchette played the quadrilies fast and furicusly, un- knowing what shedid, while Hamilton, completely en- slaved by her beauty, bent over her and endeavored to persuade her to accept the hospitality of bis family. Suddeny Mis. Jonas Todd—green satin skirts, false emeralds apd all—walked up to the absorbed young pair. “Miss Ivau,’ she said, *tnis is improper conduct; Us gentleman, the son of a county gentleman, of high breed- ig, Can have, or ought te have, nothing to say to a girl like you. Perhaps, Mr. Hamilton, you are vot awere,”’ continued Mrs. Todd, turning teward the young man, “that this day I discovered this girl in the Kensington Gardens on iotinate terms with a gipsy woman.” “Eiste 1? exclaimed Hanulten, “Yes,’? replied Fanchette, in a low tone. “Why, this 1s worse ani worse!’ cried Mrs. Todd. “You kpow each other; you are intimate it seems? This is mice, Yuly 1 the kind of persons Ihave mtroduced into a FeEpeCIaliY house, uuu nade instructress to my daugh- ters. Jax oo. 3 enornious chandeliers lighted the hall, each one a jewel! Mrs. Jonas Todd was a very vulgar woman, and the polished Hamilton was not accustomed to such people. His blood boiled, his temper rose, 4nd in an éyil moment he betrayed the secret of Fanchette. “The lady whom I have the honor to prostrate myself before,”? he said, bowing very low to Fanehette, ‘1s the only daughter of the Right Honorable the Earl gf Ken- dale; ava you will find her name in the peerage, tlle Lady Fanchette Germain |’ A wild murmur of astonishment ran like an electric shock through the assembled guests. “On, why, why, why, have you betrayed me, Mr. ifam- ilton ?? cried Fanchette. “My grandmotner will find me —I shall be sougnt—I 2 , Fanchette paused. Mrs. Jonas Todd smiled a sickly smile, and approached Lady Fanchette very slowly. “lam sure,’? she said, simpering, “I feel honored— honored beyond my powers of expression at the conde- scension of Lady Fanchette in entering my poor home. But why have yeu come in disguise? Oh, bad I known, Lady Fanchette, I would have received you like an honored guest, the best bedroom, | am sure, wih the blue damask hangings, and ‘the large pier-glass, and the marble-top cae kk continned vulgar Mrs. Todd, im her confu- sion, Fanchette was far too well-bred, too true a dy, to show Mrs. Todd that she did not believe her words. She smiled, bowed gracefully, and murmured low in gentle tones which sounded very much like thanks. “And now | am sure I hope you'll consider this house your home, my dear, darling, beautiful Lady Fanchette, until such time as your poor pa can hear from yon, and come und fetch you, Oh, wear, if I had known this was an earl’s danghter,’’ she said, turning suddenly and flercely upon Mr. Jonas Todd, a fat, meek man, very much under his wife's rule and governance, ‘I would not have sent her to mend all those stockings, but you would have it. She was impertinent. Men are such tyrants,” continued Mrs, Todd, bursting into a flood of tears. “On, my dear, my dear! cried Mr. Todd; “it was I said there was an aristocratic air about the young lady, and you said, ‘then it must be put down.’” “Mr. Todd has been drinking port wine!’ shrieked Mrs. Tedd. “Oh, what a trial—what a trial for poor, meek, patient, suffering woman. Men are savages—and tyrants—and drunkards,’ continved Mrs, Todd, giving way to a burst of vivlent, hysterical weeping. “Oh, you had far, far better come awry trom these peo- ple,’ whispered Hamilten; ‘“tney are dreadful people.” “I think if they will protect me, I shail do better to wait until I hear from Captain Duval, who is in communica- tion with the earl, and only yesterday i gave this address to E!sie. 1donot know where to tind her to send an- other. I must wait until I hear from her.” “As you please, Lady Fanchette,’’? replied the young man, gravely. . So it was arranged that Fanchetfe wasto remain. A great fuss was made over her, the guests tried to restrain their curiosity, but they coujd not help staring at her, commenting on her beauty, and crowding about her with fruits, ices, and other nice things which Mrs. Todd bad provided for their refreshment. Fanchette sat apart talking with Mr. Hamilton; from him she learpt that hia Jriend Duyal expected to be in London in three days time. “fle was, and isin a terrible state of anxiety regard- ing you,’? continued Hamilton; “for it seems he wasin league with the earl to forward your escape Jong ago. He is a tine feilow, Duval, true as Steel, bruveas a lion, gene- rous as a prince.”? Fanchette colored faintly while listening to these praises of Duval. The young soldier had never spoken of love to her, and yet she divine by instinct how deep his feelings were toward her. The guests departed at about twelve o’clock, and then Lady Fanchette found the lady of the house, waiting to conduct her to that bandsome, best bed-room, with blue damask curtains and marble-top washsiand, whereof she baispoken. A cheerful fire was leaping up the cnimney, and Fanciette thauked Mrs. Todd With as much grace a3 if she had believed her kinun«ss to be genuine; the truly well-bred never disclose their -eelings Of contempt unless the occasion be strong enough to demand it. Down stairs by the sive of the drawing-room fire, Mr. and Mrs. Tudd were indulging in the vulgar luxury of brandy and water, now that the guests were gone. “Do you know Jonas Todd,” suid. Mrs. Todd, turning her green satin skirts over her Knees so as to Save them trom being injured by the fire; “ao you know that the old Cov ntess of Kendale is in London now? and that she lias offered one thousand pounds to whoever will give her up her rebellious grandchild aiiye—one thousand pounds, Mr, Jonas odd.” “}3 a largish sum,” said Mr. Todd. ‘It would pay off the mortgages on the housesin Galt Crescent, Mrs. Tedd, aud it would leave me two hundred in hand for my ex- pens:s. lwant numbers of new things pow spring 1s comivg on, and then money is always so very uselul.”’ There Was more talk between the pair. Meanwhi.e Fanchette slept tranquilly. The next day instead of being given stockings to mend, Mrs. Toda in- stalied her in the dining-room by the side of a glowing fire, gave her albuns, and sketch books, and magazines to amuse lier, and plied her with questions about the fash- ions and custums of the great. Fanchette told her a great deal ubout dinners, dresses, mioves of expression, and soon, and Mrs, Toud promisea hersell to dazzle apd surprise her friends wilh her newly acquired Knowiedge, “Mr. Todd will be bome to dinner at six,’ said Mrs, Todd, shutiung her goki waich and staring at Fanchette, “Do you like French. dishes, my dear??? fi: “Yes,” said Fanchette; ‘swe never dined without them at Kendale.”? “On, dear me,” said Mrs. Todd, “I think [ must have a man couk, my dear.” Ht ; ‘i A clief,” said Fanchette, smiling; “that is the French name for a man cook.” - At this moment came a loud ring at the deor-bell. Had Fanehette been looking at Mrs. Todd, she would have seen tuat lady start a guilty start, and blush a guilty blush; but Fanchette was lookipg ata book of prints. She heard footsteps on the stairs, a voice that she recog- nized. The vext moment ihe door opened, and there en- tered the old, crooked Countess of Kendale, and Miss Schnell. Fanchette bounded like a frightened hare, her eyes flashing, her teeth clenched... The old countess, whose yich crimson velvet dress, trimmed with ermine, like the royalrobe of a queen, aroused the envious longings of Mrs. Toud, shook her jeweled hand at Fancrette, and shook her head with its gray wig, ifs artificial flowers, its plumes of white featvers tipped with gold. ' “Ah, L have caught you,” shesaid, “rebel sinner, What have you cost me? But never mind; anger would be thrown away en you. Ob, you shall nevor «scape wgain.” “Mrs. Todd,” said Fanckette, “you are a cruel, wicked woman. You are like Judas.” Terror and avguish spoke jouder in Fanchette now than her mstinets of politeness oy her high breeding. Mrs. Toad turned toward her lacy and smiled, “Your gracious ladysiip,” she said, ‘I lost no time in letting you know.” “Yeu shall have your money, good woman,’’ returned the countess, roughly. Mrs Todd bit her lip with mortification, “1 am sure it was not the money tempted me,” she said. “It was a sense of What was right.” ; “On, then we'll give it to the poor,” replied the grim old countess, with a bitter smile. “My lady, Ihave a large family and heavy expenses,” cried Mrs, Todd, ‘and i shell, yes, f shall certainly expect the meney au “Goou woman, hold your peace,” returned the rovgh old countess, in her masculine tones. ‘i don’t want to talk about you or your family. I tell you you shall lave your money.” “What an old she-bear,” muttered Mrs. Todd, in @ ter- rible passion, to hersell; but she smiled and bowed to the countess, : “Come,” said the countess, approaching Fanchette with a hood of black satin snd a lurge silk paletot, pul on these. 1 tell you your fate is fixed now.” “} um resolved,” said Fanchette, hereyes flashing fire. “Tam as tirm as you, cruel grandmother, 1 will die first —oh, twenty times over rather. I will refuse lood |” “Defer your threats, rebel. There now, come along. Nav, don’t think to struggle. 1 havetwo strong women- servants outside.” Fancbette was too indignant to struggle. The two strong women-servants were outside, and Fanchette, once more a prisoner, was hurried down the stairs and into the carriage of the countess, which was waiting at the door, Old Miss Selnell was in brown velveteen, as usual, and she wore a funny straw hat, trimimed with scarlet ribbons. “Op,’? she said, clasping the hand of Fanchette with what she meant for uifection, “oh, my dear little nun, you shall not escape us again. St. Annunciata claims ou. You will come and live and adie on the italian frontier.” “And diel’? repeated Fanchette, withdrawing her hand. It seemed to the poor child after that, that all was a whirl of confusion. The carriage in which they were rolling through Lon- don streets, was a traveling carriage packed tightly with luggage. It went on and on for hours, They were driy- ing toward the coast. Sometimes Fanchette seemed to sleep, but if was nightmare sleep, which refreshed her not, Once, wakin in the night, she Jound her graudmother’s maid holdi galts to ber nostriis apd old Miss Schuell chafing hei tands, She had then fainted. At Guwn she heard the roll of the sea, and looking out, saw the great gray ex- pause of the ocean lying chill and wild, and dcSu'ate, un- der the morning sky. And then sie stepped out of the carriage and op to a steamer; from tneuce to a cabin, where she lay ill and moaning. Theu sae was roused and brought up to deck, and from thence to a bieak shore. Then another curriage, then a station, then hours, bours, hours of weary travel. Her sorrow had stunned her, and she lay half between sleep and waking all the journey into Iialy. ’ They stopped, at times, at foreign towns, and rested the night at strange inns; on agail in the Mornlugs, with the sounds of foreign voices in her ears, The clime grew warmer as they advanced, Tt was bieak spring ip Eng'and; bot when the train stopped one even- ing at sundown, Fanchetté saw a gorgeous sunset be- hind woods of a faint, fresh green. There was a grove of almond trees. ‘There was the steep, blue side of a moun- tain. They descended anda entered a carriage drawn by mules, which climbed up the steep mountain-path. A bell sounded, é ? “Listen! it is the call to vespers at St. Annunciatal’ said the courtess. Roy Pp (To be continued.)