pe ste easements at ing one of the had little thought of being brought to this house, where IT have so often been a guest before the shadew of grief had fallen upon it.” His tone was becoming rather lachrymose, and Miss Crofton stopped his mournful retrospections by sayings “These thoughts are tue gloomy to be indulged; they give me the horrors. Let us dispel them by speaking of business.”? As she spoke she passed over and seated herself at her uncile’s desk, and it took all her beauty and gracefulness of motion to conquer Brett’s feeling of resentment at this direct snub in the very opening of a speech which he had been composing ever since he entered the carriage to come to Lysaught House. Fanny Crofton knew the effect she had produced. It was just what she desired. She had noticed, with woman’s quickness, that the peetical Oscar was struck by her beauty, and she determined to make this and his resentment against the’ indignities heaped upon him by Hansard and Winder the means of binding him to her own interests, and making him the willing instrumentof herschemes. Perhaps this account- ed for the brilliancy of her evening toilet. “In a conversation to-day,’’ she said, ‘tyou remarked, Mr. Brett, that the conveyance of the Highvale tands was obtained from my uncle, Jolin Lysaught, by ferce of threats, without any eqnivalent being given.” «Precisely, madame,”? “T have since spoken of it to my aunt, and she corrob- Orates it both by her own observance and by communiea- tions which she discovered among her husband’s papers. Now, in case the truth of this assertion could be proved, do you think that a conveyanée so obtained w Valid in law.’? “No. I believe it would be canceled, and there is BO reason now, Miss Crofton, why it should not.” “Now ?’? she said. “What reason could there ever have been that a fraudulent document should not be an- nulled ?”? Brett drew his chair closer to hers, and leaned forward, speaking in a low, confidential tone. “You forget, Miss Crofton,’ he said, ‘‘that the very rea- sons that caused Squire Lysaught to execute this cenvey- fnce would hinder him from seeking to invalidate it. Herbert Hansard held some frightful secret which gave him power over Lysaught’s will. It was by threats of re- vealing this secret that he forced the grant from him. Now this was a personal terror, aud the necessity of secrecy and the value of the seeret died when the squire died.” Fanny Crofton turned in her seat and looked at the young man with something akin to admiration. Then after a long reflective pause, she said in a more respeetfui tone than she had yet used toward him: “But, Mr. Brett, if the power—the effect of this secret, whatever itis, should not be strictly personal to the Squire, if it should influence the property 17 “How, madame? Ido not understand you,’ he said, trying to read her meaning in her face. “If we should dispute the possession of the Highvade lands, and succeed in having the deed declared yoid, what if Hansard and Winder, in revenge, sheuld divulge this dreaded secret and changing the proprietorship of the whole estate strip my uncie’s family of all they pos- sess in the world??? -This question evidently puzzled Brett, and a blank ex- pression overspread his face for an instant. ‘Tt cannot think of sucha thing,’? he said, at length. “T have never heard them even hint at a property inter- est involved. For several years Hansard has been black- mailing Lysauglit by the force of persenal fear. I haven’t thought of this idea—I didn’t anticipate it. I imagined that the principal objection of the family to bring the mat- ter before the courts would have been the fear of the pub- lication of the stigma attached te this secret, an objection extremely natural, Miss Crofton, in view of the unhappy doubt as to the hand which killed your cousin.” » “What! she said, sharply, ‘“‘are you one of the betiey- ers in that calumny.” « “I do not speak of my own belief, Miss Crofton,’ he said, ‘I only take the liberty allowed. by the consultation with which you have honored me to mention the state ef pular opinion. As I said before, I have never heard of y property interest in the matter except as regards _. Hansard’s extortions.” 4 . MissCrofton leaned her head on her hand, and thought eeply foratire. At length she looked him very steadily in the eyes, anu said: em: Brett, from your remarks I judge that you have ought much on this matter. Ihave studied on it day and night, and yet you have given me new ideas, I ana ’ dmpelled to take youinto my full confidence, and have _ every belief in yeur ability to aid me. 4 Can I rely upon you?” Will you do so? ' She held out her hand to him, anda hot flush came to his face and a great choking swell of emotion to his throat as leclaspedit. Fanny Crofton had by that one master- wy stroke of confidence touched the deepest chord of the an’s heart and bound him te her for life. He pressed the little hand, and calming himself sufficientiy to speak, Said: ‘I pledge my life and honor to your cause,”’ _ The lady quelled his fervency somewhat by saying in a “Matter of business tone: “Thank you—thank you. the day ol remuneration.”’ Oscar Brett felt hurt at the mercenary insinuation, and all lis romantic and poetic fervor rushed to his tongue’s oint to Bar that he had a soul above remuneration, that t was solely for the love of serving her that he had pledged himself. But Miss Crofton opened a drawer and ook out a package of papers, and the sight of the accurs- ed tape that tied them tied his tongue. “You have said, Mr. Breit,’? remarked the lady, select- pers, ‘‘that you do not believe this secret of Haudsard’s has any bearing upon the estate of Squire Lysaught.’? Brett nodded in acquiescence. “This,’? she said, spreading out a sheet of paper on which a multitude of torn pieces of a letter had been carefully arranged and pasted; ‘‘this is all that could be preserved of the letter sent by Hansard to my uncle on the day the Highvale conveyance was executed in this room.”! ; Brett took the sieet from her hand and examined it carefully. It was the rejoined fragments of the threaten- ing letter brought to Lysaught by Winder, and has al- ready been Jaid before: the reader in an early chapter of this story. The pieces had been so artfully joined that, although there was asmall gap here and there where minute pieces were missing, yet the contents could be easily made out. ‘It is Hansard’s writing,’’ said Brett. ‘*Yes,’? said Miss Crofton. ‘On the day when Winder carried away the papers and books of the Highvale farins from here, my aunt, alarmed by the cries of one of the children, rushed into this room and found my uncle over- come by excessive passion. When lhe was sufficiently re- covered slie questioned him, but he refused all explana- tion of the cause of his excitement, and on his retirement, seeing these fragments on the carpet, lier curiosity led her to gather them up. You will notice there that not only does he threaten uncle’s life, but he also speaks of mak- ing his family beggars. What can that mean? Thatlooks as if there was more than mere bodily terror in the power he wielded over uncile.”’ ‘Tt does indeed,” said Brett, after a long study of the contents of the letter, during which Fanny watched every varying expression of his face for indications of the course of his thoughts. “Wretched Winder is a deep trickster,’’ he said, slowly, ‘and although the general style of this sounds like Han- sard, yet Winader’s artfuluess glimmers throughit. This talk about beggaring tue family may only have been an empty treat to increase the affright caused by the main one oi criminal arrest. The cuuniug little rascal may have calculated that in the’ horror of alarm raised in the squire’s mind by his underlined mention of the gallows he would not be very discriminative as te their possession of the power they claimed—tnat the suddenness of the surprise would so demoralize him that he would be ready to grant whatever they asked.’’ “It didso. It must be as you say,’’ she said; but he caught a slow, doubtful cadence in her voice, and he read it as expressive of a reluctancy to accept his explanation of the letter. She had taken the stiff, pasted sheet from his hand, ee gazed at it- reflectively fora few momeuts before she said: You have been long enough acquainted with this Win- der and Hansard to know something of their subjects of interest and conversation. Do you know anything about this rumor of Hansard being in the secret service of the government??? “1 have heard it said,’ answered Brett, with hesitation; ‘and certainly his fondness for associating with persons erie to be in that employ gives some color to the asser- on. *Oan you notspeak, more decidedly upon the subject than this?’ asked Miss Crofton, and the young man wilt- ed before her questioning glance. ‘Mr. Brett,’’ slie con- tinued, in a tone of cold severity, ‘you volunteered your assistance to me, and I have taken you into my cunfi- dence—I require full,’straightforward confidence in re- turn. If you cannot give that, ’tis better that our inter- view should end before I commit myself further.’ “Explain, Miss Crofton, how I have beeu unworthy of vour trust,’? said Brett, nervously. “Yoo have not answered my last question with the same promptitude or candor as before. There must be no half confidence between us—it must be all or none.”’ “If there was any backwardness, any reservation in my answer, Miss Crofton,” he said, with feverish quickness, ‘it was from no desire to hide one iota of what knowl- edge I possess from you, but because since I have become acquainted with you I have every hour—yes, every instant —become more and more ashamed of my connection with the persons whose characters and actions are made so despicable by your questions. Iam ashamed of the com- plicity in their meanness implieg by my being able to an- swer those questions, and far, far more ashamed of the position 1 must hold in your eyes ” (TO RE CONTINUED.) US EFU L TINTS FOR THE HOME CIRCEE. —- To make feather brushes to use in greasing pans, or brushing egg over tarts or pastry, boil the wing feathers of a turkey or chicken for about ten minutes, then rinse them in tepid water, dry and tie them up in bunches. — Toremove fine particles of gravel, lime, etc., from the eye, syringe it with lukewarm waier. Be careful not to worry the eye under the impression that the substance is still there. which the enlargement of some ct the minute vessels makes the patient believe to be actually the case. If thecye should feel sore avoid a strong light. » — In buying a toothbrush, select one consisting of only three er four rows of bristles, with a little space between, and et a moderate hardness. This will allow the bristles to spring in between the teeth, and thus free them of tartar in plaees where i is mest apt to accumulate, You shall not be forgotten in DRAWBACKS. BY W. R. BARBER. Et wakes within the heart a thrill To greet with kindly clasp The hand of some long absent friend, And feel his answering grasp. Bat oh, what anguish when he grips Your hand as in a vise, And wrings it till your knuckies crack— Tis very far from nice. If e’er te mertals Is vouchsafed Foretaste of Heaven’s bliss, *Tis when Love’s compact is confirmed “With that sweet seal—a kiss. But should the beauteous maiden’s pa Detect the sott salute, It is not bkiss to feel the tee Of his parental beot. What rapture swells the mother’s breast Who marks the infant glee Of her sweet babe, the darling pledge Ot leve and constancy. But when the cherub how! at night It as a horrid bore Te have to take it m her arms And promenade the floor. A pleasant thing it is to meet Some gentlemanly wight, Whese manners, though ke be unknewn, You ecendieence invite. You feei with such a polished man @uxe honored to converse; Until, when he has teft, you find That he has progged your purse. Tis joyous o’er the bilewy surge In seme swift bark to glide, Te feel the spray as "Meath the prow The glancing waves divide. Batt should you sea-sick grow, my friend, Yewll quickly change your mind Abeut the “briny” and its joys, And wish you'd stayed behind. in fact, earth has but few delights— And these but few enjoy— That have net with their sweetness mixed Some odious alloy. A melancholy thing it is That drawbacks are so rife; They knock quite into a cocked hat The Poetry of Life! The right to dramatize this Serial is reserved by the Author. ON E NICHT’S MYSTERY. By Mrs. May Agnes Fleming. [One Night's Mystery”’ was commenced in No. 29. Back num- berscan be obtained from any News Agent in the United States.] PART SECOND. CHAPTER IL. _*“SINTRAM,”” It was a large and well-lighted room, the floor covered with dark red wool carpet, the valls colored of some dull, neutral tint, and containing by way of furniture three queer spindle-legged, old-fashioned chairs. Three or four ladies and as many men steod elustered around a picture—the picture, the only picture upon the wall, At the extreme end of the reom two or three others hung—exeepting these the plastered walls were quite bare, “ ‘*Von Ktte’s studio is as grim and ugly as himself,” remarked Miss Macgregor, taking in the place and the people with.an American girl’s cool, broad stare. “There is Unele Grif, gazing through his venerable old specs, lost in a trance ef admiration, just as if he had never seen it before. The dear old soul has no more idea of art than a benevolent tom cat, but a sign-board painted by little Von Ette would be in his bis as a Murillo or a Reubens in those of ether peo- ple.” “M. Von Ette is then a protege of Uncle Grif’s ?” asks Miss Owenson. ‘Let us take a seat until these good people disperse. 1 detest looking at‘a picture over other’s shoulders.” ’ “Carl Von Ette is a protege of Lewis Nolan. Lewis Nolan, since he was twelve years old, has beena pro- tege of Uncle Grif’s; while.Uncle Grif, ever sinee I ean remember, has been mamma’s abject slave. I never knew him to rebel except on one point, and that point this same Lewis Nolan. ‘The money you spend upon that Irish boy, Brother Grif,’ says mam- ma, looking at him with her on beneath which the stoutest heart may well blench, ‘would be much more suitably employed in educating your only sis- ter’s orphan children, Charity begins at home, sir.’ And Uncle Grif, bless him! quails and trem- bles, and makes answer, in quavering falsetto, ‘Little Lewis is like ason to me, Sister Helen. It is but little that I can do for him; that little I mean to do; whatever is left, you and the ehildren are welcome to, I’m sure.’ ” Miss Macgregor, in her most vivacious tone, par- odies her mother and uncle without the smallest compunction, and the mimicry is so good that Syd- ney has to — ‘‘Mr. Nolan is Irish, then, and poor ?” ‘Of Irish extraction, and poor as arat. His moth- er and sister are seamstresses. He is alawyer now, admitted to the bar, thanks to uncle. He began life selling papers, was elevated to office-sweeping, was one of those boys you read of in Sunday-school books, and goody literature generally, who are athirst after knowledge, spend their leisure hours in hard study, rise to be prime ministers, and marry a duke’s daughter. Mr. Nolan has not had greatness of any kind thrust upon him yet, but, after all, I shouldn’t be in the least surprised to see him a ruler in the land before his hair is gray—one of these self-made men, who are so dreadfully priggish and pompous, and whe never tell a lie in their lives. There! an opening at last. Now let uS go and look at the pic- tures.” Kate Macgregor’s cynicisms and worldly knowl- edge, her sarcastic strictures on every subject under the sun, were a never-failing source of wonder and amusement toSydney.