throu: — which VOL, 43—No. 50, THE NEW YORK WEEKLY. #> — agree with the noble, frank, sensitive soul which he had believed hers to be. He would rather believe that it was because she shrank from distressing him, who had avowed his own love but a few days earlier. Yes ; the tender-hearted girl could not éndure to pain _ and mortify him! Yet he felt that never did she so much need his counsel as now. If it had béen the other young gentleman, whose acquaintance she had made at the picnic, who was paying her attention, his heart would have ached for himself but not for her. But this St. Clair! Those dark, restless, in- scrutable eyes were not to his liking. He resolved, as slowly he gathered the flowers for his bouquet, that he would demand this young man’s references, and acquire an accurate knowledge of him and his associates, before he permitted him to come to his house. He would te her preference, and speak of the steps which pru- dence required him to take, before admitting a stranger to any intimacy. - In the midst of these unpleasant reflections, he heard the tinkle of the breakfast bell, and with a sad heart, he entered the room, and laid down by Violet’s hand, where she sat awaiting him by the coffee-urn, the dewey bouquet which he had arranged with con- summate taste. > “Oh, thank you, Jacob. It is too lovely to touch! I meant to have — out among the flowers before breakfast; but I did not get to sleep until nearly morning, and in consequence, overslept.” “Are you ailing?” he asked, with a sharp glancé in-| to the beautiful face, which he saw was paler than its wont, and changed in its expression. j “No, I think not; only a headache and some ner- yousness, The weather makes me languid. I do hope it will rain to-day. Do you think it will, Jay?’ “There were clouds In the west, and there is adamp wind coming aed = “I thought I had a foreboding of rain. Jay, if you wish it, and the eveningis not wet, I will go with you to call on the Websters after tea.” “Very well; I should like to go.” “Miss Webster isa noble loooking lady. I wish I | had such a woman for a companion, Jay. “So do I, sincerely, Violet. I begin to fear that you need some woman’s advice and friendship.” She looked up at his earnest tone, and meeting his eyes, blushed, He had determined to s found himself unable to doit. He could not bear to call that blush to her face. ; She did not refer to St. Clair’s visit, and so he now fully understood that she was peement to withhold her confidence from him. The pang this gave him was sharp and lasting. He had lavished his life on this fair child, and now, on the verge of her lovely soneonens he was losing her, and for one so un- worthy. sa : The meal was over, and as the two withdrew from the table there was, for the first time, a misunder- | standing between them. Violet felt it, yet she could not explain the cause; she could only slip her hand into her good friend’s and follow him out upon the es porch: trying to make him feel, by the pressure of e r soft fingers on his, that she did not wish him to | be displeased with her. _ He went off to the village, and she, with nothing to do, felt lonely and depressed. One moment she ex- - ulted in the prospect which was opening before her, but the next she would feel instinctively that all was not, could not be right—that something to be dreaded hovered abouth her path. : _ A cooler breeze, moist with an approaching shower, was blowing up; and flinging open all the windows the parlors, she sat down at her piano, and tried to divert her thoughts with her music. Presently the deep roll of. thunder broke in upon her less majestic melodies, the air darkened, and large drops of rain began to fall. Tbis suited her mood, and she played on, the wild- est, grandest music she could think of, joining in with her young, soaring voice. Her ears were full of the song and the thunder-peal, so that she did not bear the swift gallop of horses’ feet up the carriage- rive. _ Two persons, on horseback, to escape the drench- ing rain which would be down upon them in a mo- ment more, rode into the grounds, leaped from their animals, which they fastened to the bridle-posts, and came hurriedly up on the porch. The gentleman was about to ring the bell, when the lady arrested his hand. : “Hush, Jasper! Listen a moment to the music. It is seldom you heara piano played like that. The ‘voice, too, is superb. I wonder who lives here? I did not expect to hear such music outside of our great cities. That voice is young and fresh, as well as powerful and cultivated.” ' “Yes, it surprises me, Evangeline.” The couple stood motionless, listening, until song and ompaniment win their way to the sky storm and thunder, and vanished in the heights. Then they rang the bell. . ‘ Violet, not gevanie oF yisitors at that early hour, went to the door herself. She was astonished to find the Websters. The color in her cheeks deepened a little, but she invited them in with a courteous grace - “and our bein - earth around the roots of a tree, his | «Ee his debt Géiled. ~~ “Tf you are not afraid of the lightning, let us take seats out here,” said that lady. “I do enjoy a sum-} _ mer storm.” i “So do I, Miss Webster. I am not at all afraid. -Prudie, bring more chairs. Mr. Campbell and I had atranged to call upon you this evening.” = “Fam glad to hear it,” responded the gentleman, driven in here by stress of weather need not interfere with your intentions. We shall be at home, and very happy to see you.” As the wind and rain fretted the horses where they stood exposed, Violet gave orders, ete Prudie, that they should be taken into the stable and at- tended to. ’ Such a storm as this always reminded Violet of that fatal one which had been described to her as the cause of her mother’s death. Despite her pleasant company, she thought of it now, and her face paled, and she ara into silence. “Tam afraid that you suffer from fear, after all,” remarked Mr. Webster, noticing the change which oe over her. “We will go inside, if you feel _ “No, Iam not afraid. But my mother was killed in front of this house during a summer tempest like this, and it makes me think Of her.” She sighed, looking over at the tree which had been torn by the thunderbolt; while her visitors recalled what Prudie had told them at the picnic. (TO BE CONTINUED.) a On THE WELCOME STRANGER, The welcome stranger to which our heading refers - was not a man or a woman, but something which has never yet failed, when properly used, to win friend- “ship, and otherwise conduce to human comfort. Two Cornish miners, named Deeson and Oates, owed their good luck to this welcome stranger, which came at a time when Fate seemed to have at last tired of shabbily treating them. In the same vessel these two poor men emigrated from England to Australia, in 1854. They betook themselves to the far- famed Sandhurst goldfield in Victoria; they worked together industriously for years, and yet only con” ‘trived to make a bare livelihood by their exertions. Thinking that a change of place might possibly mean change of luck, they move to the Dunolly goldtield, ‘and their spirits were considerably raised by the discovery of some small nuggets. But this was onl -amomentary gleam of sunshine, for their former ill- luck pursued them again, and pursued them even more relentlessly than before. _ The time at last came, on the morning of Friday, February 5, 1869, when the storekeeper with whom they were accustomed to deal refu to supply them any longer with the necessaries of life until they liquidated the debt they had already incurred. For the first time in their lives they went hungry to _work, and the spectacle of these two brave fellows - fighting on an empty stomach against continued ill- duck must have moved the fickle goddess to pity and repentance. Gloomy and depressed as they natu- rally were, they plied their picks with indomitable perseverance, and while Deeson was breaking up the ick sud ee and et rebounded by reason of its having struc some very hard substance. _ “Come and see what this is,” he called out to his mate. . To their astonishment, “this” turned out to be a massive nugget, which they promptly christened the ‘Welcome Stranger;” and thus two poverty- stricken miners became in a moment the possessors of the 1 it mats of gold that mortal ae ever saw, or are likely to see again. Such a revolution of fortune is probably unique in the annals of the hu- man race. Almost bewildered by the unexpected treasure they had found at their feet, Deeson and Oates removed the superincumbent clay, and there revealed to their wondering eyes was ‘a lump of gold a foot long and a foot broad, and so heavy that their ome strength could scarcely move it. A dray hay- - ing been procured, the monster nugget was escorted by an admiring procession into the town of Dunolly, Py ant carried into the local branch of the London artered Bank, where it was weighed, and found to contain 2,2683¢ ounces of gold. The bank purchased the nugget for £9,534, which the erstwhile so un- lucky, but now so fortunate, pairof miners divided € lly between them. ve Whether the storekeeper who refused them the materials for a breakfast that morning apologized for his harsh behayior, history relates not, but the obability is that he was paid the precise amount lebt artd no more; whereas, had he acted in a more generous spirit toward two brothers in distress, he might have come in for a handsome present out of the proceeds of the ‘‘Welcome Stranger.” — eu * 0 te NOTHING overcomes passion more than silence. yet determined to cherish it? Itdid not seem to] Violet that he was aware of | k. of: St. Clair, yet he- Miss Webster herself coula not hays” ex- | by MARRIED AND GONE AWAY. BY DE WYNTERWADR.. I open the door of a quiet house, . Unlocking my tears as well. The odor of flowers is all about, But she is not here, our Nell. I dimly see through my falling tars, Each in its old familiar place, The many trifles her hands have touched— But sob as I miss the laughing face. A vacant place at the table waits, A thousand nameless things recall At every turn the dearone gone And cause afresh the tears to fall. Married and gone away—our Nell— The life of the house, they say. Ah, we could smile and see her wed; But married and gone away! [fHIS STORY WILL NOT BE PUBLISHED IN BOOK-FQRM. | iti THE SEGRET OF THE. | : z e By MRS. GEORGIE SHELDON. Author of ‘‘Geofftrey’s Victory,” ‘‘ Brownie’s Triumph,” ‘“* The Forsaken Bride,” etc. {“WiTcH HAZEL” was commenced in No. 42. Back numbers can be obtained of all News Agents.] CHAPTER XXI. HELENA RECEIVES AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR. Sir Henry Harwood and Perey Morton, M. D., be- came associated in business from that day. Percy returned to Kingston where he remained just long enough to settle his affairs, then repaired to London and took his station in the handsome office of the eminent city physician. Sir Henry had been very strongly attracted to him during their first meeting at Osterly Park. He saw at once that he was a young man of no ordinary talent, and that he bade fair to stand in the front rank in his profession. -It had been a deep disappointment to the great physician that his son, Charlie, had not shown a | taste for the study of medicine, for it had been the’ hope of his life that he would eventually succeed to his practice and position; but since it was dis- tasteful to him, and he had preferred the law, he would not attempt to force his inclinations and had afforded him every facility to fit himself for the bar, and he gave great promise of becoming prominent as a barrister. But as Sir Henry grew older, he found that his practice, Which was constantly increasing, was be- coming too great a tax upon his strength and he knew that he must either relinquish a portion of it, or secure an associate. He chose the latter course = thus we find Percy Morton occupying that posi- ion. : Just at this season of the year Sir Henry’s duties in London were not as heavy as usual; indeed most ot his patients were out of town, and very many of them at Brighton; thus his services were often required at the fashionable watering-place where his own family spent a goodly portion of the sum- mer. Still, he did not like to leave his office in the city omy, during his absence, and after his arrangement with Percy, it was a great relief to him to feel that he could leave his patients there in skillful hands while he was absent. ; 3 Three times a week he went himself to London, and, after Percy had become well established in his duties, he insisted that during his presence in the city, he should run out of town for rest and a breath of fresh air—to Brighton, if he chose, where he would be a welcome guest in his own summer home, or to any other place which he might choose. They would ot have a busy winter, he affirmed, and he wished He er, man to get what rest and recreation he could by thus alternating their professional duties. ~ Perey chose to go to Brighton, of course, for Hazel was there and no other place would have any charm for him without her. He knew that he could see her occasionally, and it would be pleasant to be near her even though their outward relations were not just what he wished them to be. He was immediately drawn into the circle where Helena Stewart reigned a belle, and where he was soon considered a great acquisition. Helena became a changed being from the moment of his coming. She no longer seemed to care for the society of Lord Nelson, although she was always courteous to him. She avoided his attentions, how- ever, and showed from the outset that Percy Mor- ton’s comparionship was far more congenial to her. She insisted that the evening of their reception be changed in order that he might be present—that she might have the pleasure of entertaining him in her ewn home. Almost every excursion, in which she was concerned, was arranged with a view to secur- ing him as her companion, and her best efforts were put forth to charm him upon every occasion. - Mrs. Stewart remarked this change with great ee and at length remonstrated with her daugh- i ; “Helena, you are paying this young doctor alto- Bea too much attention to suit me.” she said one ay after an evening when Helena had succeeded in keeping Percy by her side to the exclusion of almost every one else. Helena tossed her head defiantly. “T have never met a gentleman whom I admire so much,” she unblushingly confessed. “You will not even except Lord Nelson Hartwell ?” said her mother, inquiringly. sae ; I will not except even Lord Nelson Hart- well.” “Helena! Do you not mean to marry him—Lord Nelson, I mean ?” ; “He has never asked me,” said Miss Stewart, with a light laugh. “But he would ask you, I am sure, if you would give him an opportunity to do so,” responded her mother. ‘Helena, do not disappoint me in this. I have set my heart upon seeing you Lady Hartwell, and, eventually, the Duchess of Osterly. Iam sure he visits here frequently enough to warrant me in supposing his attentions to be serious.” elena laughed mockingly. “Yes, [ think he has serious intentions; but, unfor- tunately for your aspirations, I am not the object of tiem,” she retorted, flushing hotly. “What do you mean? Surely, you do not think he cares for Belle?” said Mrs. Stewart, surprised. “Belle! that child! No, indeed.” “Who, then?’ “Where are your eyes, mamma? He is over head and ears in love with your governess.” “Helena!” exclaimed her mother, aghast. “Tt is true.” “T cannot believe it. Miss Gay is a fine musician, and he sey enjoys her music.” “Well, all I have to say is, just watch them the next time they are together, and I’ll warrant that you will discover it is not altogether the music that Lord Nelson is fond of. You may have cause to con- gratulate yourself some day, mamma, on account of the good match your pretty servant will make,” Helena concluded, maliciously. “Miss Gay is a lady, even if she is only a gov- erness,” returned Mrs. Steward, flushing, and in- wardly dismayed as she began to realize that there might be some truth in her daughter's insirfuations. “Granted,” retorted Helena; “she is altogether too much of a lady for the position she occupies, But you can set your heart at rest upon one topic—ZJ shall never be Lady Hartwell.” “Perhaps you would prefer to write simply the ab- breviations M. D. after your husband’s name,” said Mrs. Stewart, with angry sarcasm, and wholly losing patience with her daughter. Helena colored a vivid red. She was silent for a moment, and evidently strug- gling with some inward emotion, At last she said, in a low, impassioned voice: “Mainma, you thwarted me once; let me advise you never to meddle with me again.” “But it was for your good. Your life would have been ruined if you had persisted in——” “Hush !” Helena interrupted, imperatively; but she was pale assnow now. “I will not hear one word about that 20w.”’ _ “You are very ungrateful. Think of the money that Thave spent trying to help you wina proud posi- tion,” replied Mrs. Stewart, tearfully. She was always ‘worsted in an argument of this kind with Helena. “We will not discuss the subject further,” returned Miss Stewart, haughtily ; and, rising, she swept from or closing the door with no light sound be n er. * we ‘irl had at last found her match. Hitherto she age at her shrine; now the order was reversed, and her proud heart had yielded its most sacred affec- tion to Percy Morton, and she was forced to acknowl- nade every one bow to her and render hom- | to love any one. ; The spell had begun to be woven about her that morning at Osterly, when he had made his second call upon her and remained so long conversing with her; but, perchance, if he had neyer come to Brighton it might have been gradually dissolved, and she would, eventually, have married Lord Nelson. ‘ As it was, however, every time she had met Percy the charm of his presence had enthralled her more and more, until now she knew that life would be vee for her if she could not succeed in winning im. That very evening there was to be a reception at Crescent Villa, and Perey had accepted an invita- tion, more because he hoped to see Hazel than for any other reason. , He had only met her two or three times since that morning when he had said good-by to heron the veranda, and then only in the presence of others. Lord Nelson or Charles Harwood were invariably hovering about her, and he had not been able to get one word of private conversation with her. He was beginning to be very jealous of the youn lord’s attentions to her, and yet common sense told him that if Hazel loved him, and wished to marry him, he should be glad to have her do so well, and would rejoice at the brilliant future awaiting her. But his heart cried out in despair against any such alliance. He loved herso wholly that it was torture to think of her being won by any one else. He went a little early this evening to Mrs. Stew- art’s, hoping to get afew moments alone with her before any one else claimed her. He met her in the hall, as he entered. She had just come down from her chamber, and was looking very beautiftiin her pure white dress, garnished with bows of delicate pink satin, and carrying in her hands a bunch of long-stemmed pink rosebuds, tied with white ribbons. There was no one else in the hall just then—no one to see how she greeted him, for which she was truly thankful; and ear eagerly forward to clasp his outstretched hand. ; ‘How glad [am to see you all by myself, Percy,” she said, in a low, earnest tone, and with a swift up- ward glance of delight, that set his pulses throbbing more quickly than usual, and proved the truth of her words. “I knew that you were inyited,” she continued, “but I -have been almost afraid that something would prevent your coming.” “Then you do me the honor to think of me occa- sionally,” he returned, with an arch smile. “Occasionally,” she repeated, withrising color; “TI think of you every day I live.” “Truly, Hazel?’ he asked, bending to look earnestly into her eyes. “Truly, Percy,” she repeated, coloring again. and fearing she had said too much; ‘tyou know I never tell stories. But how well you are looking. Brighton air must agree with yor” “And with you, too, dear. I never saw you so blooming. But,’ with a glance at her fiowers, “what beautiful buds. Where did you get them 2?’ “Lord Hartwell sent them to me.. They are lovely, and you shall have one, the very prettiest, for a bou- tonniere.” es And she began to search for one to give him. “No, thank you,” Percy: returned, coldly, stung with jealousy that Lord Nelson should have been the giver. “Do; despagd gee bouquet; his lord- ship would not feel flattere favors.” che Something in his tone made Hazel blush again and feel very uncomfortable; but she did not — her offer, and her enjoyment of her flowers was destroyed from that moment. They had scareely begun to talk of something else when Hazel heard a light step behind her, and then a voice said, with incisive distinctness: “Miss Gay, Belle needs yon. Will you go to her?” Then Helena Stewart, in an exquisite toilet of black lace over maize-colored silk, with sprigs of golden wheat disposed among the draperies, and with gleaming topazes upon her neck and arms, came sweeping forward, with her brilliant smile, and ex- tended hand, to greet Dr. Morton. Hazel turned away with very bright eyes, for she had caught the angry gleam that Helena shot at her as she passed, and went up stairs to find that Miss Stewart had told an untruth to get her out of her Belle did not need her, and was just emergiug from the hands of her maid, looking both pretty and pigdans in pink tulle and white roses. When they went down together they found the guests arriving thick and fast. Lord Nelson and Charlie Harwood, as Belle now familiarly called the latter gentleman, were among them, and both hast- ened forward to greet the young girls. : ~ Mr, Harwood secured the first dance with Hazel, but Lord Nelson kept her card a long time, and when he returned it she found his name upon it in four places. =e. 28 Her time was so monopolized after that, that she saw nothing more of Perey for a long while, for he was not among the dancers; but while she was rest- to see me wearing his came to her and, holding eard. ; ~ P It was nearly full, and his face fell. “Do you enjoy it?” he asked. “Tndeed I do,” she replied, with animation. “You oy to be quite a favorite. Which will you ve me?” i ‘cana you choose of what is left,” she re- plied. He wrote his name in every empty space, and then quietly returned the card to her, and she wondered why he looked so grave and pale. As it happened, the very next dance was one that he had chosen. “Come,” he said, as the music struck up, and hold- ing out his arm to her. ; She arose and took it, but instead of leading her upon the floor, he went out through the hall upon the veranda. ; “Where are you taking me, Percy ?” she asked. “For a promenade inthe air. You have danced enough in those close rooms, at least for the present. Do you object ?” > “No,” she said, in a low tone, which he mistook for disappointment; but if he could have known how intensely happy she was to have him all to herself, he need not have been so grave and self-contained. They paced back and forth in the moonlight for some time, Percy telling herof his plans and pros- pects in London, and questioning her, more freely than he had yet had an opportunity to do, regarding her life at Brigliton, and this quiet. confidential chat seemed like old times, and made them both forget, for the time, the barriers which had so lately risen betweenthem. — : But Hazel’s good time was finally interrupted by hearing some one calling to her that Mrs. Stewart wanted her to go in and sing something. It was Helena again. ; She was standing in the door-way, and the glance that she flashed at her as she passed in made her shiver, although she said, with marked politeness : “Miss Gay, mamma has been looking for you for some time. Will you kindly go to her now?” “Allow me to conduct you,” Percy said, as he fol- lowed Hazel, and he gave his arm to her again, bow ing gravely to Miss Stewart as he passed in. He, too, had caught that scathing look, quick as it was. Helena’s white teeth came together with a snap. “That minx is carrying matters with a high hand. They were amazingly confidential, it seems to me, for recent acquaintances. Does she think she can win everybody, the arrant little flirt! If mamma won’t take her down from her stilts I must,’ she mut- tered, an angry flush staining her cheek. She turned back and entered the drawing-room, to find Hazel singing like a bird, while Percy Morton stood near and watched her with a look that aroused all the worst passions of Helena’s nature. When Hazel had completed her song she slipped quietly from the room, and no one seemed to be aware of the fact save Helena, who, after a moment, followed her. She went up to her room, hoping to find her there, but it was empty. She then went upon the veranda, and thought she saw her out in the grounds. She stole back into the house for a shawl then, with her eyes glittering with yore anger and hatred, her cheeks scarlet from the hot blood that was coursing like molten lava in her veins; she passed down the steps, and made her way after the white figure which she had seen a few moments pre- vious, while her delicate hands were clenched until the nails cut into their palms, and she looked like a Nemesis bent upon vengeance. Helena Stewart was a terrible being when she gave the rein to her passion. She walked with a firm, swift tread down the gray- eled avenue toward the sea, until she came to a small summer-house. She peered within this, but no white figure was visible; in the darkness she could distinguish noth- ing. She turned and glanced behind her, but nothing was moving as far as she could see, and after a mo- ment of hesitation, she stepped into the place, seated herself upon a low chair by the entrance, and bowed her head upon her hands. She sat there for several moments without moving, and apparently oblivious of everything but the fierce passion raging within her, as she thought of that look upon Percy Morton’s face as he stood beside Hazel while she was singing. Was her sister's governess about to win the only man in the world who could make her life happy ? Suddenly she became conscious of a human pres- ence beside her, although she had heard no steps, perceived no movement, The next moment a hand was laid upon her shoul- der, and a low yoice, hoarse with emotion, said in her ear a3 iis hand, asked for her elena, at last you will have to hear me!” She sprang to her feet, with a cry of fear, and in the dim light, to which she had eranuely become accustomed, saw the figure of a man standing beside er. “Chester! is it you—again ?” she panted. “Yes. Sit down; I have something of importance to any to you,” and he moved forward the chair from which she had just arisen. But she evaded him with a quick spring, and dart- edge that she loved him as she had never expected ing, after a delightful waltz with Lord Nelson, he | ing-out of the summer-house, sped with fear-winged i Hazel Gay’s guardian, to be so upset about it; but, feet back toward the mansion; but, as she went, she caught the ominous words: _“You are only putting off the evil day, Helena. A time of reckoning must surely come.” CHAPTER XXII HELENA RECEIVES A STARTLING NOTE. Helena Stewart darted with the speed of light over the lawn, and gained the house, sped up stairs to her own room, where, locking herself in, she’ sank, pant- ing and trembling, upon a chair, her face ghastly as the face of the dead. “Oh, what shall I do? He has traced me even here !” she moaned, pressing her hand to her side to still the frightened beating of her heart. She sat cowering there for some time, the picture of abject fear and mental suffering. At last, however, she threw up her head with a defiant gesture. ‘“‘What does it all matter?’ she said. ‘‘“He can prove nothing; and if he should betray me, it will not amount to anything, unless I choose to own—— I can- not—I will not—and yet my heart is divided. Percy Morton is a king among men; if I could win him, the past would be a sealed book forever, the future a dream of delight. But that girl must be got out of the way, or he will become infatuated with her. She may win his lordship, and welcome, if he wants to make alow governess the future Duchess of Osterly,” and her beautiful lips curled with a cruel, mocking smile. ‘“Sheis pretty enough for any position, I am bound to admit’—one thing Helena Stewart never did was to underrate her enemies—‘well-educated, accomplished, and fascinating, and it’s evident he’d be delighted to have her, though I question if his aristocratic grandmamma would be willing to re- ceive any one so far beneath him socially. One thing is settled, however—ZI shall never become the Duchess of Osterly, mamma’s ambitious schemes to the con- trary notwithstanding. I will win Perey Morton, or no one—I will be no other man’s wife !” She arose as she said this, an expression of reso- lute purpose on her fair face. She erossed the room and looked at herself in the glass, and was startled by the reflection of her pallid ace. “Everybody would exclaim that i had seen a ghost if I should go below like this,” she said, with a bitter smile. “And so I have—the ghost of a past that frightens me to think of. Why couldn’t he have staid in America, among his dry-goods and small wares? I do not care!” she went on, almost fiercely; ‘‘let him do his worst! I shall brave it out to the end. I do not believe he can do much but threaten; and if he can—why, there is a last resort.” She sponged her face with cold water, and wiped it with a coarse towel, thus producing a more natural eolor, and having given a few additional touches to her toilet, she descended once more to the eompany. She found Dr. Morton dancing with Hazel, while Lord Nelson was standing in a corner watching her with gloomy eyes. Helena sat down and allowed her glance to follow them for afew moments, and her heart grew even more bitter and resentful at what she saw. Hazel was giving herself up to the charm and delight of being with Percy, forgetting in his dear presence the fact that everybody believed them to be comparative strangers, while she laughed and chatted with him with innocent freedom and pleasure. Her face was flushed, her eyes gleamed, and her whole manner be- trayed how glad she was to be with him. - “Tt is perfectly scandalous!” Helena muttered. “She will march out of this house before she is many weeks older, if not by fair means, then by foul. The moment that Hazel was released Lord Nelson was by her side claiming her promise to go to the refreshment-room with him; after that he tried to entice her out of doors into the moonlight, where he meant to tell her something of the love ani fond hope in his heart. But his manner betrayed more than he meantit should, and Hazel made some ex- cuse about being obliged to find Belle, and thus, for a time, the tale remained untold. Lord Nelson feared that her grace the duchess would oppose his choice; he knew, too, that she was very anxious that he should marry Helena Stewart, but he had made up his mind to choose for himself, and that Hazel Gay should be his wife if he could win her. Thus, in music and dancing, in gayety and pleasure, the days at Brighton slipped by, and no one enjoyed it all with more zest than Belle and Hazel, who, by the faithful performance of their duties during the early part of the day, felt that they had earned a right to make the most of the recreation that followed. Percy came to Brighton every other day, and some- times oftener, for his duties in London were not heavy just now, and Sir Henry insisted that he should play while he had the chance, saying he would have to work hard enough to pay for it by and by. He became very much attached to Charles Har- wood, and this good feeling was returned by that young man, who found much to admire in Perey. Mrs. Harwood smilingly called them her ‘two boys,” for Percy made his home with them, at their earnest solicitation, while he found himself growing ‘very fond of the sweet, beautiful woman who made everything so pleasant for him. One afternoon young Harwood and Percy were strolling along the beach smoking their after-dinner cigars, but neither seemed to be in a very social frame of mind, Charles Harwood, especially, appear- ing to be depressed and troubled about something. All at once he broke out, impulsively : “TI say, Morton, I want to ask you a very personal question, if you won’t think it too impertinent.” “Lay on, Charlie,” Percy returned, searching the young man’s face with a critical glance. “Tam afraid I ought not, and yet I am driven to it,” he returned, a deep flush mantling his brow. “TI want to ask if you have any special claim upon Miss Gay. Ihave a particular reason for asking.” “What reason? Give me your confidence, Charlie ; you may safely do so,” Percy said, with grave kind- ness. “Hangit! that isn’t easy to do, Morton,” replied his companion, reddening again. “Sometimes I’ve thought you were gone on Miss Stewart, and then again ’d feel stre that dear little ‘hazel-eye’ was your inamorata. Ifit’s Miss Stewart, then I’m all right; butif you have a prior claim upon Miss Gay, Vil just step out of the way altogether, and not tres- pass upon your territory.” Percy flushed at this, then grew very white about the mouth; but he bravely put his own feelings out of sight, and quietly remarked : “So, then, you are partial to Miss Gay.” “Partial! why, Morton, she’s a girl that a man eould die for! There! you have my secret now. Hazel Gay is more to me than any other woman in the world. I have imagined that you were fond of her, too, and so f thought it would be only honorable in me to let you know where I stand.” “Have you ever intimated anything of your feel- ing to—Miss Gay ?”’ Percy inquired, in the same quiet tone as before. “Not a word as yet.” “But you wish to do so?” “Yes. Ishould have done so ere this, but that I half suspected there was some understanding be- tween you and Hazel. Somehow, she always seems more free and happy with you than with any one else,” the young man confessed, with a sigh. A bitter pang shot through Percy’s heart as he listened to this revelation. He deeply, devotedly loved Hazel, and he knew that her image alone would be enthroned upon his heart as long as he lived; still, his love was so great, so self-sacrificing, that he would not stand in the way of any one else who was worthy of her, provided he was the man of her choice. He could live on and make no sign, if she was only happy. He was surprised to learn that Charles Harwood loved her; true, he had been at- tentive to her, but in a very quiet way. He believed that Lord Nelson Hartwell would be the winner in this race for her love, but Charles should have his chance. All this was like the torture of the rack to him, but, save for his extreme pallor, he gave no sign of the keen agony he was suffering, and, after a momentary struggle for the mastery over himself, he ane to his companion and said, with a quiet smile: “Thank you for your confidence, my friend, and ron need have no fear of me asarival. If Miss Gay oves you well enough to become your wife, I would not lay a strawin your way, but rather pronounce my benediction upon your happiness.” “Then it is Miss Stewart, after all!” exclaimed the young lover, turning to Percy with a beaming ace. If he could have seen how this dagger entered Percy Morton’s soul, he would have shrunk back appalied. “T admire Miss Stewart, certainly. She is very beautiful,” he returned, with that same steady quiet- ness. “But you forget, Harwood, that I am only a oor doctor, struggling up the ladder of fame, and it would be the ‘height of folly in me to presume to do more than admire the gifted heiress from a distance.” “Pshaw! you underrate yourself; and, if I am not mistaken, Miss Stewart would not chide you for any presumption of that sort. The richest and most gifted woman in the world might feel honored to secure you for her husband.” “IT might suspect you of the rankest flattery if I did not know you so well,” Perey said, smiling; “but there are few people living who would take such a view of what limited good qualities I may possess. But have you no fear of Lord Hartwell as a rival? He, too, seems very much attracted by the lady whom you profess to adore.” t Percy tried to speak naturally, but his throat was dry and parched, and his temples were throbbing painfully. Young Harwood’s face clouded. “That is so,” he said. “Still, I have not feared him as much as I have you, if the truth were known, be- cause I do not believe he has the slightest intention of offering marriage to Miss Gay.” “What !” Percy turned upon the astonished young man, fury blazing in his eyes. “Good gracious, Morton! how you do fire ata fellow! One would almost think that you were you see, those Hartwells are a proud race. Her grace, the duchess, is one of the most intensely aristocratic women in England, in spite of her goodness, and I do not believe she would ever consent to have her grandson make a mesalliance. . Besides, it is my private opinion that she has her eye upon the Stewart millions.” This was Perey’s opinion also, although he did not believe that Lord Nelson was in sympathy with any such plan. He was fully convinced that the young lord was deeply and honestly in leve with Hazel; but Harwood’s hint that he might be amusing him- self at the beautiful girl’s expense, had set all his blood boiling. Still, he felt that, under the circumstances, he was betraying more feeling than was wise; so he re- marked, with assumed composure: “Well, I think that Miss Stewart, with or without her millions, would wear a duchess’ coronet very gracefully.” “Whew!” ejaculated his companion, astonished. “T imagine you are not very hard hit, after all, if you can contemplate such a contingency with that calm fortitude. But,” he added, tossing away his cigar, “I promised to join a progressive euchre party there to-night. I shall go witha lighter heart than I should have had but for this conversatian.” Percy was also invited to make one at the euchre party, but he was not ready to go, and allowed his triend to leave him, for he wanted to be alone. He had never been heavier-hearted in his life than since receiving young Harwood’s confidence. Not because he feared that he would win Hazel—he felt quite sure that she had no regard for him beyond that of a friend—but he did fear that she was learning to love the young lord. He strode back and forth over the sands, after young Harwood had left him, a tumult of feelings rioting in his heart while the veins stood out full and hard upon his forehead. He had not seen very much of Hazel during the last week or two; she had not mingled in company quite so freely, because Belle had been ailing, and Mrs. Stewart would not allow her to keep late hours, and so Hazel had preferred to remain with her, the only trial connected with it being the fact that she was deprived of seeing Percy. Whenever she did go out, either Lord Nelson or Charlie had monopolized her attention so that he could get no private conversation with her, without making them both conspicuous, In spite of his belief that Lord Nelson was an hon- orable man and would not willfully do Hazel an in- jury, he could not help feeling troubled by Har- wood’s suspicions. “If he is playing with her he deserves to be shot,” he said, chafing savagely against the thought, yet feeling powerless to interfere, because no one knew that he had any right to guard Hazel, and any such ee eae might make matters very awkward for er. He had bitterly repented. many times having yield- ed to her request; he hated deception in any form, and it was very annoying to him to be obliged to occupy such a false position. He remained there by the sea-side a long time bat- tling with himself, with his pain and rebellion, and then, unable to bear it any longer, he, too, turned his steps toward Crescent Villa. He found a gay party assembled there, fourteen in all, including himself. All were engaged with their cards, except Hazel, who was quietly sitting one side, watching the game and studying the players. She looked up as Perey entered, a flush of joy ting- ing her cheek, and her eyes lighted with a glad look of welcome as they met his, while she gaye hima cordial nod of welcome. Helena, watchful of every change in her counte- nance, saw it all, and closed her white teeth with a vicious snap. She gave a sigh of relief, however, when, a moment later, she saw Hazel quietly leave the room. Helena, too, greeted Percy with great cordiality, and was wondering what she should do, for the tables were full, and she did not wish him to feel that he was de trop, when a servant approached and whispered something in her ear. A startled look shot into her eye. The next mo- ment she turned to Percy saying, brightly: “You are just in time, Dr. Morton, to take my place, for I am obliged to leave for awhile.” “What is it, Helena?” Mrs. Stewart asked, having observed the servant’s summons. “Only a message; I imagine madam has sent the bill for that dress,” Helena responded, in a low tone. “Sit down, doctor,” she added, with playful author- ity, ‘and make up by your skill for the bad hand that I have dealt myself.” “Very well, I willdo the best I can until you re- turn,” Percy answered, taking her chair, but wishing very much that he might have escaped playing; he would have much preferred to follow Hazel and have a quiet chat with her. He took up Helena’s ecards and arranged them, as she passed from the room, a troubled look on her fair face. She found a small boy waiting in the hall for her. ens do you want?” she asked, searching his face anxiously. Without a word he put a note into her hand, then turned, and quietly disappeared. ; A vivid color shot up to the girl’s brow, her bosom heaved, and her heart gave a‘starticd bound as she tore it open and recognized the handwriting within. These were the words which she read: “HELENA: I am waiting at the entrance to the summer-house to see you. I will wait for you just one half-hour. If you do not come by the end of that time, I shail go boldly to the house, send in my name, and inquire for you. ©? (TO BE CONTINUED.) a a A CLUSTER OF VOLCANOES. Although the road to Quito is over an almost un- trodden wilderness, it presents the grandest scenic panorama in the world. Directly beneath the equator, surrounding the city whose origin is lost in the midst of centuries, rise twenty volcanoes, pre- sided over by the princely Chimborazo, the lowest being 15,932 feet in height, and the highest reaching an altitude of 22,500 feet. Three of these volcanoes are active, five are dormant, and twelve are extinct. Nowhere else on the earth’s surface is there sucha cluster of peaks, such a grand assemblage of giants. Eighteen of the twenty are covered with perpetual snow. and the summits of eleven have never been reached by a living creature except the condor, whose flight surpasses that of any other bird. At noon the vertical sun throws a profusion of light upon the snow-crowned summits, when they appear like a group of pyramids cut in spotless marble. _ Cotopaxi is the loftiest of active volcanoes, but is slumbering now. The only evidences of action are the frequent rumblings that can be heard for a hun- dred miles, and the cloud of smoke by day and the pillar of fire by night, which constantly arise from a crater that is more than three thousand feet beyond the reach of man. Many have attempted to climb the monster, but the walls are so steep and the snow is so deep that ascent is impossible, even with scal- ing-ladders. On the southern slope of Cotopaxi Is a greatrock, more than two thousand feet high, called “the Inca’s Head.” Tradition says that it was once the summit of the volcano, and fell on the day when Atahualpa was strangled by the Spaniards. Those who have seen Vesuvius can judge of the grandeur of Cotopaxi if they can imagine a volcano fifteen thousand feet higher, spurting flames and lava from a crest covered by three thousand feet of snow, with a voice that has been heard six hundred miles. And one can judge of the grandeur of scenery on the road to Quito if he can imagine twenty of the highest mountains in America—three of them active vol- eanoes—standing along the road from Washington to New York. —> WHY DO BEES WORK IN THE DARK. A life-time might be spent in investigating the mysteries hidden in a bee-hive, and still half of the secrets would be undiscovered. The formation of the cellhas long been a problem for the mathema- tician, while the changes which the honey undergoes offer at least an equal interest to the chemist. Every one knows what honey fresh from the comb is like. It is a clear, yellow sirup, without a trace of sugar init. Upon straining, however, it gradually assumes a crystalline a ees candies, as the sayin is, and ultimately becomes a solid mass of sugar. I has not been suspected that this change is due to a photographic action, that the same agent which de- termines the formation of camphor and iodine crystals in a bottle causes the sirup honey to as- sume a crystalline form. This, however, is the case. M. Schiebler, an eminent chemist, has inclosed honey in stoppered flasks, some of which he has kept in perfect darkness, while others have been ex- posed to the light. The invariable result has been that the sunned portion rapidly crystallizes, while that kept in the dark has remained perfectly liquid. And this is why bees work in perfect darkness, and why they are so careful to obscure the giass windows which are sometimes placed in their hives. The ex- istence of their young depends on the liquidity of the saccharine food presented to them, and if light were allowed access to this, the sirup would gradually acquire a more or less solid consistency. It would seal up the célls, and in all probability prove fatal to the inmates of the hive. am it THE vices of old age have the stiffness of it, too; and as it is the unfittest time to learn in, so the un- fitness of it to unlearn will be found much greater.