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oh, times! And, pa dear, now don't you
** Oh, I know how! Just say you go to being cross ; it's of no sort of use to will” speak to them about it; and—and the * If—if I dare to, my darling." fact is, I like Harry very much indeed, “ Well, I won't trouble you much; not very much, and so does he like me, but till after it's all done, and can't be helped. there's somebody I like worlds, worlds, I love John Bonnamy, and I hate the worlds better.”
great future race”-and all of a sudden “Oh, there is, is there?” And her she burst out crying inextinguishably, , father caught her shoulders in his two and it was all her father could do to kiss hands, and held her at arm’s-length till her and soothe her into calmness before the face drooped and the eyes veiled walking away with her, her little elastic themselves, and the brazen thing was step hardly crushing the grass, into blushing and half crying: “ And I know the wood where John Bonnamy was who it is !” he cried, releasing his hold waiting. and clasping the pretty head all at once It was an hour or two later in the day, into his breast, to the great damage of just as the first tinge of sunset began to crimps and starch. “ You don't suppose transmute all the summer world, when I've seen Dr. Bonnamy's gig waiting Mr. Morley came walking back alone over round these lanes so long for nothing ?" the brow of the hill, very quiet, very
“ You don't care, do you, pa?” she dazed, a little stunned it may be, a little whispered, looking up from her resting-wondering if nature were not on his side place.
and requiting his wrongs after all. For “I don't know about that,” he an what was this he had heard in the wood, swered, smoothing the soft hair in a as if Louie's story were not marvel reckless way. “What am I going to enough? Harry Pearmain, Fanny Fardo?”
well—those two children, he not a day “ Threaten ma with a lunatic asylum, more than twenty-one, she less than his and make her behave herself.”
Louie's age-just seventeen ; a dead “No, no; ma has her rights. She secret that nobody dared to break. He believes in her principles thoroughly, didn't know how to believe it all-it and so do I. But the trouble is I never was like a dream. He felt that he must did have any backbone.”
have a night's sleep on it, and see if he “Nobody could have, or any other dreamed it again, before he dared to bone, living as we do.”
think of it. He saw a great vista of “I'm-I'm ashamed of it, but my release opening before him, if he could
too much for me. Your but find a sword to hew through the mother ought to have married a better first hedge. man."
There was a shorter cut down the hill, " For shame, Pa Morley! As if she that took him round under the Pearmain could !”
windows-those pretty mullioned win“She'd have been a great deal happier, dows all opening on the ground; he and perhaps have founded her great race. followed it. And he never knew what It does seem a shame that such a mighty fate it was that suddenly made him turn, plan should be thwarted just because I and tiptoe toward a certain window of love gravy. She'll say, Louie, that the them all, and pause there, looking inreason you
is because of the whether some arresting sight had caught rebellion of my senses against the his eye and directed his feet while his
Acquiescence of your reason.” And conscious thoughts were otherwhere, or then they both laughed like two children. whether it was simply perverse curiosity. “It isn't only soup, though,” said Whatever it was, he delayed there some Louie. “I like everything that's good, seconds, his eyes glaring out of his head, and take it whenever I can get it- his nose flattened against the pane of chicken, calf's-head, pork and beans," the narrow pantry window till it shone
“Oh Lord, we might as well give up, leprously white and blue; and in that then," groaned Mr. Morley.
plight, as if magnetised by the fixity of “We might as well give up," repeated his gaze, Mrs. Pearmain turned and Louie, with great cheerfulness. And surveyed him. you'll help us, pa?"
Oh, Mr. Morley! Mr. Morley!" she “I? 1? Why, how can I—" cried, as well as the circumstances al
lowed her to enunciate,“ don't, don't “ Wonderful!” said Mrs. Morley, fållbetray me!"
ing delightedly into the trap. Mr. Morley chuckled.
“And the weakness other animals moment of glorious recompense. Here get," continued Mr. Morley. “My dear, was his sword. He pushed up the sash. did you know that Mrs. Pearmain had “I'll take a bite,” he said.
been ailing for some time?” Mrs. Pearmain stared in a sort of “ Triflingly,” said Mrs. Morley, drawstupor a moment. “I–I can't help it, ing on her gauntlets. Mr. Morley,” she stammered then, with “My dear, if you saw Mrs. Pearmain pale and shaking lips.
standing behind her pantry door, holding “It's very well done,” said Mr. Morley. in one hand part of a cold sausage, the “ It shows a good deal of experience- rest of which was in her mouth, and
"Oh, the doctor ordered it long ago, in the other hand a pickled martinoe” and the habit grew upon me, and al- “ Do talk common sense, Mr. Morley." though I gave up hope for myself, I've “I call that very common tried to keep the way straight for the on Mrs. Pearmain's part. As I was others"
saying, in such case what should you “Straight and narrow," said Mr. think?" Morley.
“I shouldn't think at all; I can't " And I've talked and written about it, reason on impossibilities." talked to everybody, argued with every- “Do you believe it would make any body--you know I have, Mr. Morley," difference as to your tyranny over me?" she cried, breathlessly, the tears gushing urged Mr. Morley, with a laugh. —“ talked to everybody, tried to convert “ Tyranny, George!” said Mrs. Morley, every body—"
turning her still charming face wonderEnough to strike a balance. I under- ingly upon her husband. stand—whited sepulchres, Pharisees, and “I said it advisedly,” replied Mr. all that. You've been like the hero of Morley, with sudden austerity. the ballad who sat in the corner eating “Is that tyranny to which your reason his Christmas pie. You've been the so fully consents?” asked Mrs. Morley, means of starving me for nearly twenty pulling off her gloves for a combat, in years on oatmeal mush, while you've reverse of the custom of those knights picked your bones and licked your who, before the fray, “ pulled their ringfingers."
ing gauntlets on." “Mr. Morley! you can still insult—" " Teresa," said Mr. Morley, with a
“ Not at all, not at all. I don't wish firmness that surprised himself, “I adore to insult you. On the contrary, I think your principles, but I abhor your practice. you've shown the first ray of sense I've Don't pull off your gloves, my love: that seen in you for twenty years. Only,” poor woman is famishing for her porridge. said Mr. Morley, lifting his finger im- Go your ways, child; but if on your pressively before his victim's eyes, return you run over to Mrs. Pearmain's I there's to be no backing down.'
think you may learn something to shall A stormy half-hour afterward Mr. I say your ?-no, to my advantage.” Morley might have been seen springing And little Mrs. Morley went her ways, over the railing between the grounds as with her mind'in a state of bewilderment, light as a boy, and he ate his supper of and shivering as she remembered that the oatmeal mush with the relish of Jack ancients held high spirits to be a presage sitting at the foot of the bean stalk he of sudden death. was about to fell; for he never meant to “ Louie,” said Mr. Morley, when his partake of that viand again in his life. wife was out of sight, “it is very wrong
The phæton was coming round to the to disobey your mother.” door to take Mrs. Morley, in the long twilight, to one of her poor women whom “But if your mother has given no she helped on certain vegetarian con- orders, you can't disobey them. ditions. The pony was rather gay, and
“ No, pa." pranced a good deal as Thomas held the " And it is equally wrong to disobey bridle. “It is wonderful the strength you father.” these anima's get out of grains," said Mr. “Yes, indeed,
dear.” Morley, artfully.
“And if your father gives you orders,
“ Yes, pa.”
you can do nothing else than obey Permit me also to remark that in future them.”
this acquaintance shall always be a Certainly, pa, of course.”
welcome guest at our table, to whichVery well, then, I order you to take while I accord you personally all liberty a goose which
you will find in the of groats—so help me Heaven I never servants' larder, and tell Jane to dress it mean to sit down again without a joint! and roast it at once. And when that is I told you this afternoon that I admired done I shall have some further orders to your principles, my dear Teresa. If I had give you."
known Dr. Bonnamy earlier and better, When Mrs. Morley returned from her I never should have made so foolish a visit the house stood dark, with open speech, and we should have been spared doors and windows, and the fragrance of some years of trouble.
Let me see. You the honeysuckles blowing all about it, declare that I inject dead flesh into my but with nobody inside it. She remem- veins when I partake of this delicious bered what her husband had said, and morsel,” refreshing himself with a bit of hastened across the lawn and up to Mrs. the goose. Do you, when you manure Pearmain's lighted mansion, arriving your hill of corn with barn-yard compost, there just as Mr. Pearmain descended inject that disgusting material into your from the coach that had brought him to ear of corn? No; the chemistry of sun the end of a long journey. She spoke and air absorbs from that compost only with the worthy man, looked up at him the proper constituents of corn.
The admiringly in the dusk, and yet paused stomach is a fine laboratory; it acts in one instant to think that her George, of the same way; it sends no dead flesh to whom no one stood in awe, was a the veins, but it separates that food into pleasanter person for a husband after its elements, and sends merely the proper all. In the next instant a sound of constituents of life along to their abrevelry smote her ears, smote Mr. sorbents. Moreover," continued Mr. Pearmain's too, and they went in to- Morley, wiping his forehead, and amazed gether. The sound
from the at his eloquence and temerity, "you urge dining-room. What odour was this me to live according to your ideas, that never before had profaned that because comparative anatomy shows that pretty room ? what sight was this that all animals with cellulated colons are saluted the outraged eye?
herbivorous, and man has a cellulated There stood Mr. Morley, at one end colon-man and the ape. Is that right, of the freshly laid and glittering table, Dr. Bonnamy? I am now convinced that with his fork in the breast-bone of the the first ape that forsook his herbivorous goose and his knife in the air; there sat diet and smacked his lips over some Mrs. Pearmain, pale, with traces of tears, smoking flesh began to differentiate into daintily picking apart, but with no man; and you may send your cellulated appetite whatever, a slice of the brown colon to Mr. Darwin as the missing breast; there sat Fanny Farewell, blush- link—" ing like a rose, with Harry's protecting Bravo, papa, bravo!” arm just thrown across her shoulder; “And now, Mrs. Pearmain," said Mr. there stood Louie Morley at one side of Morley, “shall I speak for you?” her father, flourishing a drumstick, and "I–I can't speak for myself," said her great black eyes dancing to the music Mrs. Pearmain, bursting into tears, and of Dr. Bonnamy's merry laughter as he seeing twenty husbands with twenty stood upon the other side.
valises all about to leave her for ever, “My dearest love,” said Mr. Morley, and gazing at her with awful austerities laying down his knife and waving his of farewell. hand toward the remnants of the goose,
“Mrs. Pearmain, as Dr. Bonnamy will “ allow me to re-introduce to you an old assure you,” said Mr. Morley, ** was but unforgotten acquaintance-'
ordered by that physician, in whom you “Oh, indeed!” cried Mrs. Morley, too all believe so heartily, to resume her much stupefied to express indignation, pristine diet some years since. This she " as if I had not seen a goose every day of stoutly refused to do ; but learning that my life for twenty years !”
her life depended on it, I have brought ** Not roasted. "Pardon me; your look- this bird over here, and, as I may say, ing-glass reflects, but does not roast. have forced her to share it with us.
The rest,” continued Mr. Morley, happier been of no sort of use to talk with you, than he had been for years, “ I hope ex- and it was a great deal better to clear plains itself.
Let me introduce this your skirts of all responsibility.” Mr. young lady"-as the little thing shrank Morley stopped and regarded the others. closer and closer to her proud and defiant Mr. Pearmain, wide-eyed and openyoung husband—“ formerly Miss Fanny mouthed and silent till this juncture, Farewell, but for this three months past had suddenly broken the spell, dropped waiting an opportunity to confess her- his valise, and bent and taken his wife self Mrs. Harry Pearmain. And that in his arms. “ Emily, my darling," he done, let me present to you, my dear wife, was saying, “ why didn't I hear of this Dr. Bonnamy, who became your son-in- before? Do you suppose I would have law an hour ago.” And, quite out of sacrificed your precious health, your life, breath, Mr. Morley sat down.
for a whim? And he kissed the weak The whole English language failed to woman tenderly before turning to the do justice to the occasion. There was others. “ And as for these children,” silence in heaven for half an hour-that said he. silence echoed here for half a moment, * Hear! hear!” cried Mr. Morley, perhaps, but it seemed longer.
hilariously. “I hope you will all be very happy, “ Hear! hear ! cried Louie, who said Mrs. Morley, then, with majesty, had never been afraid of Mr. Pearmain. but a tremulous voice. “ And as you “And will you sacrifice us for a whim,
have shown yourselves so capable of it ma?”
My dear,” said Mr. Morley, pouring “Now, mother, mother,” said Mr. out a bumper, “ here's to the great future Morley, bending over the goose and perfect race. Let us wish it long life waving his knife and fork affectionately and posterity. We have only posttoward her, “ you know it would have poned it a generation.”
Editor's Easy Chair.
announced in Paris in the department we have this fresh evidence of Sterne's inof art and literature, is the publication, in creasing popularity. It is seldom that the French, of Sterne's Sentimental Journey upon French pay such honour to the work of any a scale of splendour almost unparalleled, ever of their own authors as Le Voyage Sentiin that country of rich bindings and sump-mental is to receive at the beginning of next tuous letterpress. In England the Senti- year; for not only is it to be printed on the mental Journey can be bought at any railway most luxurious paper and clothed in the bookstall for the modest sum of fourpence- richest of bindings, but its illustrations will halfpenny; and probably it is not often, in be correspondingly beautiful, and the work these days, that a more expensive edition is will be sold for three hundred francs the inquired for. It cannot be denied that in copy. What would the Yorkshire parson the land of his birth Sterne has gone sadly say could he come back and witness this out of fashion. But in France he is always fresh tribute paid to him in a foreign in vogue, and the stories of Maria, and country, while England has never yet seen Lefevre, and the Monk are as well known fit to print him in an édition de luxe. In his there as the French classics, while our lifetime, after the early volumes of Tristram Shakespeare is voted dull company in com- Shandy had made him a name, he was parison.
lionised to some extent in London, and was A few years ago every glove-shop in Paris very fond of coming up to town to sun himused to display in its window a certain well- self in fashionable society, en garçon, while known picture, representing a thin, elderly his wife looked after the country rectory. gentleman in eighteenth-century dress, try- But the attentions he received in London ing on gloves in a shop: a pretty young were nothing to the adulation paid him in woman was demurely holding the glove for the literary and fashionable circles of Paris. him, while he looked down at her with “My head is turned,” he wrote from here evident admiration. Nobody needed to be to Garrick, in 1762, “ with what I see, and told that this was Yorick and the grisette. the unexpected honour I have met here. Of late years the pictures have disappeared Tristram was almost as much known here as from the windows, but copies of Le Voyage in London, at least among your men of Sentimental en France et en Italie were never condition and learning, and has got me my hands.”
introduced into so many circles I have just Marlborough-for unhappily the lady who now a fortnight's dinners and suppers on was so zealous in her exertions for the wel
fare of Ireland while her husband was LordIf Sterne was less appreciated in his own Lieutenant, has lost that husband by a frightcountry than across the Channel there seems fully sudden death-date from the commenceto have been good reason for it. His ment (so called, although it was in reality instincts, habits, and views of life were more only a revival), of the lace-making in Ireland. French than English ; in fact, one might Among these are some beautiful samples of almost consider him a Frenchman whom “lacet," a fabric so silky and delicate as to somé strange accident of nature had kept remind us of the old French "blonde" now out of his inheritance-a French soul born almost unknown. This kind of lace is not into an English body.
expensive, and it is singularly effective.
For a few years it was a trade article, but it A very interesting and important exhibi- has long ceased to be of any commercial imtion of Irish lace, at the Mansion House, has portance; a fact that is much to be regretted. been one of the features of a London season A very interesting exhibit, not only for its of phenomenal activity in all artistic direc- grace and beauty, but for the story that tions. The result to the progress and pros- attaches to it, is the Pearl-Tatting, one of perity of this especially beautiful and lightest, most fairylike fabrics that can be deserving industry is likely to be satisfac- imagined. In the small town of Ardee, Miss tory, although the arrangement of the Sophia Ellis, a daughter of the rector, comcollection is defective in many ways. The menced, with a shuttle and two spools of lace made at the schools of Carrickmacross ordinary sewing-thread, to teach a few poor —which were founded in 1847 by Mr. Tristam children to make what the French call Kennedy, to whose true patriotism Ireland “Frivolité." It consists of a thread, being owes the revival of the ancient art, with all looped after the manner of netting, into its civilising influences and bread-winning circles, having on each edge a "pearl.” It power-is of extraordinary beauty, while is, in consequence, called Pearl-Tatting. In that made at Innishmacsaint-a poor village a very few years Miss Ellis distributed on the shore of Lough Erne-may fearlessly £5000, the amount she realised for the work, be compared with the stateliest Flemish, which materially mitigated the dreadful Venetian, or Spanish designs. To Youghal, effects of the famine. To this day pearlhowever, the city of Sir Walter Raleigh, and tatting gives employment to many poor to which additional interest has been directed persons. Its utility is thankfully acknowsince the publication of Sir John Pope ledged by the Poor-Law Guardians. It Hennessy's Raleigh in Ireland, the palm of would seem as if a fine opportunity of doing elegance and lightness in the fabric of lace good to a country, for which much sympathy must be accorded. There are two kinds of is professed, had now arisen. The fact that taste in lace, one for the stately, the other Ireland produces lace of unsurpassed beauty for the flimsy textures, and each may be fully will be new to most English people, and a gratified by the beautiful specimens of pea- visit to the very interesting exhibition at sant women's and children's handiwork that the Mansion House will be to them a revelaare to be seen here. Anne of Austria wore tion. no finer trimming to that wondrous underlinen which her soul loved, the courtiers of Year after year the people of New York the Sun-King bowed low before their master and the neighbouring towns have accustomed with jewelled hands laid on jabots of film no their eyes to the growth of the Brooklyn more delicate, and fantasy no more elegant Bridge slowly and silently rising into its than is the Irish lace that is made to-day in perfect form. First the huge, lofty, massive the convents and the lace-schools of Cork, piers or towers, from which the passageClones, Ardee, Youghal, and Innishmacsaint. way was to be hung over the river, grew The Carrickmacross schools are not so pros- gradually from the level of the shores, and perous as they ought to be; but it is to be became the most commanding and far-seen hoped that this Exhibition, by enabling the structures in the two cities. Months and fair wearers of beautiful things to see for years passed while still the work proceeded, themselves how truly the Irish lace deserves and at last a delicate line was visible stretchto be included in that category, and at how ing from one pier to the other across the moderate a price they may be adorned with river. Still silently, as if woven by elemental the loveliest work of women's fingers, may forces, the line multiplied and increased induce that wonder-working, mysterious until many lines combined, and a delicate power, “ fashion,” to summon the Irish lace- aerial path was drawn in the air from city making industry within its magic circle, and to city. Week by week and month by month warm it with the life-lending rays of its the forms became more plainly defined, but smile. Some of the specimens lent by the only now and then the figure of a man was patronesses of the Exhibition, among whom visible, a mere moving object upon some are the Princess Christian, the Countess part of the structure. At last the lapse of Spencer, and the Duchess (Dowager) of time was so long, and the general outline