That "Handsome are that handsome do."

Then long may courteous Redesdale live,

And oft his pack such gallops give! Should fox again so stoutly run, May I be there to see the fun. (To be continued.)

THE STAGE OF LIFE;

INSIDERS AND OUTSIDERS;

TRAVELLERS

AND

ΟΝ ΤΗ Ε ROAD.

BY CHARLES M. WESTMACOTT.

CHAP. XVIII.-LOVE AND MYSTERY.

Christchurch Meadows by Moonlight-The Lovers surprised-Bonny Barbara in Florence-Flickering Lights and Shadows of the Past - The Present and the

Future.

The dome of heaven was radiant with the starry sphere-the grey clouds travelled quickly past the silvery moon-while o'er the landscape and the rippling Isis gleamed a streaked light of vivid mystic blue, and ever and anon it tinged the outline of the rising ground, or spread its cheerful brightness o'er the silent glade; and, save where a flickering light denoted the collegian's latticed chamber, the classic meadows of Christ Church breathed a fragrant stillness and a soft repose.

The

It was autumn time and evening tide. The vesper bell had rung its parting note; the domini were mostly caged in comfortable quarters, discussing the merits of old port; and the merry student had closed his oak, to consecrate the night to friendship, sack, and claret. studious book-worm pondered over his tomes; and the black-lettered magii of the schools met in conclave, to decipher the arrow-pointed hieroglyphics of Egyptian lore.

Along the banks where Isis winds its way, o'ershadowed by umbrageous foliage of varied hue, there came a youthful pair upon the sight, and, as they passed and pressed the velvet pasture, their light step and silvery tongues denoted they were lovers, seeking the solitude of sweet, refreshing nature and of eve, to hold communion of kindred thought, to pledge their mutual vows of love, and breathe the inspiration of the soul.

It was not the first time that Fitzgeorge and Mary Jessop had been seen wandering by Isis's classic stream, courting the stillness of the silvery mead. Their open, undisguised, and accredited attachment left no room for prying curiosity, suspicious reports, or idle misrepresentation. Old Frank Jessop had given his consent to the attachment, and meant to promote the union as soon as he could; but, as yet, he had not communicated his intention, or that of the lovers, to Wilton Burney; and, although the lovely Mary bore Jessop's name, and had always been considered his daughter, old Frank felt convinced that Wilton Burney had an equal, if not a stronger, claim to be consulted in the disposal of her hand.

"Dear Mary," said Fitzgeorge, "you acted nobly in rejecting the tempting present. Be assured that the jeweller would find the right

owner.

That "Handsome are that handsome do."

Then long may courteous Redesdale live,

And oft his pack such gallops give! Should fox again so stoutly run, May I be there to see the fun. (To be continued.)

CHAP. XVIII.-LOVE AND MYSTERY.

Christchurch Meadows by Moonlight-The Lovers surprised-Bonny Barbara in Florence Flickering Lights and Shadows of the Past - The Present and the Future.

The dome of heaven was radiant with the starry sphere-the grey clouds travelled quickly past the silvery moon-while o'er the landscape and the rippling Isis gleamed a streaked light of vivid mystic blue, and ever and anon it tinged the outline of the rising ground, or spread its cheerful brightness o'er the silent glade; and, save where a flickering light denoted the collegian's latticed chamber, the classic meadows of Christ Church breathed a fragrant stillness and a soft repose. It was autumn time and evening tide. The vesper bell had rung parting note; the domini were mostly caged in comfortable quarters, discussing the merits of old port; and the merry student had closed his oak, to consecrate the night to friendship, sack, and claret. studious book-worm pondered over his tomes; and the black-lettered magii of the schools met in conclave, to decipher the arrow-pointed hieroglyphics of Egyptian lore.

its

The

Along the banks where Isis winds its way, o'ershadowed by umbrageous foliage of varied hue, there came a youthful pair upon the sight, and, as they passed and pressed the velvet pasture, their light step and silvery tongues denoted they were lovers, seeking the solitude of sweet, refreshing nature and of eve, to hold communion of kindred thought, to pledge their mutual vows of love, and breathe the inspiration of the soul.

It was not the first time that Fitzgeorge and Mary Jessop had been seen wandering by Isis's classic stream, courting the stillness of the silvery mead. Their open, undisguised, and accredited attachment left no room for prying curiosity, suspicious reports, or idle misrepresentation. Old Frank Jessop had given his consent to the attachment, and meant to promote the union as soon as he could; but, as yet, he had not communicated his intention, or that of the lovers, to Wilton Burney; and, although the lovely Mary bore Jessop's name, and had always been considered his daughter, old Frank felt convinced that Wilton Burney had an equal, if not a stronger, claim to be consulted in the disposal of her hand.

"Dear Mary," said Fitzgeorge, "you acted nobly in rejecting the tempting present. Be assured that the jeweller would find the right

owner.

"It matters little if he does or not, dear Julius.

Such a gift from a stranger, who concealed his name, could only be considered an insult."

"And if he had avowed himself," inquired Fitzgeorge, with some alarm, "would that, Mary, have rendered the present more acceptable, or have lessened the indignity?"

"No-on the contrary; for if, as I suspect, it came from the royal libertine, I think the insult more offensive.'

"You are a deal girl, and worthy of all my devotion. But tell me, Mary, what said old Frank to your illustrious conquest.

66

He said what his good, kind, affectionate old heart prompted him to say, but what it would not be proper for me to repeat-at least, in his language-lest I might be guilty of treason.'

"Let it pass, Mary. The time may come when I shall be justified in resenting this offence, and proving my gratitude to your dear old guardian, who has been a father to you and a kind friend to me."

"To everybody, Julius; to everybody. Frank Jessop, under a rough coating, has a warm, indulgent, and generous heart; he is one of the best men that ever breathed; and if he is not my father by law, I am sure that I am his daughter by love. It distresses me, Julius, and I am sure that it distresses both him and you, to entertain doubts which we have no means of elucidating. Ever since the visit of that mysterious old Crone of Thorpe Glen, I have noticed an unusual dejection in my father's spirits, and a visible alteration in his manner towards both of us; not that he is less affectionate and kind in conduct and in speech; but occasionally he is more abstracted and reserved, and talks to himself. Yesterday I overheard him say It cannot be ; the old hag must have invented the tale to impose upon us both; and yet- Here he paused for some time, and then, heaving a deep sigh, he said— It were better it should be so. I'll hie me to the wold, and know the worst.' And this morning he set off for Lincolnshire."

"It is strange very strange. We are the children of mystery, Mary we live in the world, and among the world, and yet I sometimes doubt if we are of it. That you are an angel, I am sure,' said Fitzgeorge, playfully; "and that I am some mythological hero in disguise, I feel quite certain. How we either of us became wanderers on this earth is enveloped in deep mystery; but fate, my dear Mary, which brought us together, evidently intended us for companions; and some day or other the gods, who alone seem to know our true history, will draw the veil aside, and show us who and what we really are."

"But if the discovery should produce any transformation of what we are!" said Mary, somewhat apprehensively. "It might be more agreeable to remain in our present doubtful but happy state."

"I have often thought of that," replied Fitzgeorge: "it might be the source of great misery to one or both of us. If, for instance, Mary, you should prove to be some rich man's heiress, and I should continue to be the poor student I am-"

66

Stop there, Julius: I will not allow you to conjure up such an impossibility, nor will I permit you to hazard the unjust conclusion I think you were arriving at. No, Julius; if I were a rich man's heiress, I would enrich the man I loved before I married him, that I might insure his confidence and secure his regard."