ISHMAEL; Or, IN THE DEPTHS.

Te Aroha News, Volume VII, Issue 471, 14 May 1890, Page 3

ISHMAEL; Or, IN THE DEPTHS.

By MRS EMMA D. E.'N. S9UTHWORTH, Author of “Self-Raised,” “Fair Play.’ “Ihe Missing Bride,” “A Noble Lord,” “ How He Won Her,” “The Prince Darkness,” “Tried for Her Life.” Etc.. Etc.

CHAPTER ML AN EVENING AT THE PRESIDENT'S. There was a sound of revelry by night—- * Columbia’s ’ capital had gathered then Her beauty and her chivalry .—and bright The lamps shone o’er fair women and brave men. . . , A thousand hearts beat happily; and when Music arose with its voluptuous swell. Soft eyes looked love to eyes that spoke again, And all went merry as a marriage b g b RQN , The carriage rolled along Pennsylvani a Avenue. The weather had changed since sunset, and the evening was misty with a light, drizzling rain. Yet still the scene was a gay, busy and enlivening one; the gas-lamps that lighted the avenue gleamed brightly through the rain-drops like smiles through tears; the sidewalks were filled with pedestrians, and the middle of the street with vehicles—all going in one direction—to the President’s palace. A decorously slow drive of fifteen minutes brought our party through this gay scene to a gayer one at the north gate of the President’s park, where a great crowd of carriages were drawn up, waiting their turn to drive in. The gates were open and lighted by four tall lamps placed upon the posts, and which illuminated the whole scene.

Judge Merlin’s carriage drew up on the outskirts of this crowd of vehicles, to wait his turn to enter ; but he soon found himself enclosed in the centre of the assemblage by other carriages that had come after his own. He had to wait full fifteen minutes before he could fall into the procession that was slowly making its way through the righthand gate, and along the lighted circular avenue “that led up to the front entrance of the palace. Even on this misty night, the grounds were gayly illuminated and well filled. But crowded as the scene was, the utmost order prevailed. The carriages that came up the right hand avenue full of visitors discharged them at the entrance hall and rolled away empty down the left hand avenue; so that there was a continuous procession of full carriages coming up one way and empty carriages going down the other. At length Judge Merlin’s carriage, coming slowly along in the line, drew up in its turn before the front of the mansion. The whole facade of the White House was splendidly illuminated, as if to express in radiant light a smiling welcome! The halls were occupied by attentive officers who received the visitors and ushered them into cloak-rooms. Within the house also, great as the crowd of visitors was, the most perfect order prevailed. Judge Merlin and his party were received by a civil, respectable official, who directed them to a cloak-room ; and they soon found themselves in a close, orderly crowd moving thitherward. When the gentlemen had succeeded in convoying their ladies safely to this bourne and seen them well over its threshold, they retired to the receptacle where they were to leave their hats and overcoats before coming back to take their parties into the saloon. In the ladies’ cloak-room Claudia and her chaperone found themselves in a brilliant, impracticable crowd. There were about half-a-dozen tall dressing-glasses in the place, and about half-a-hundred. young ladies were trying to smooth braids and ringlets and adjust wreaths and coronets to their aid. And there were about half-a-hundred more in the centre of the room ; 6ome taking off opera cloaks, shaking out flounces, and waiting their turns to go to the mirrors ; and some quite ready and waiting the appearance of their escorts at the door to take them to the saloon ; and beside these some were coming in and passing out continually ; and through the open door the crowds of those newly arriving and the crowds of those passing on to the reception rooms, were always visible. Claudia looked upon this seething multitude with a shudder. * What a scene !’ she exclaimed.

* Yes, but with all, what order ! There never has been such order and system in these crowded receptions as now under the management of Mrs ’ said Mrs Middleton, naming the accomplished lady who, at that season, ruled the domestic affairs of the White House. As Mrs Middleton and Claudia had finished their toilets, to the sticking of the very last pin, before leaving their dressingrooms at home, they had now nothing to do but to give their opera-cloaks to a woman in attendance and then stand near the door to watch for the appearance of Judge Merlin and Mr Middleton. They had but a few minutes to wait. The gentlemen soon came and gave their arms to their ladies and led them to join the throng that were slowly making their way through the crowded halls and ante rooms towards the audience-chamber, where the President received his visitors. It was a severe ordeal, the passage of those halls. Our party, like all their companions, were pressed forward in the crowd until they were fairly pushed into the presence-chamber; known as the small crimson drawing-room, in which the President and his family waited to receive their visitors. Yes ! there he stood ! the majastic old man, with his kingly grey head bared, and his stately form clothed in the Republican citizen’s dress of simple black ! There he stood, fresh from the victories of a score of well-fought fields, receiving the meed of honour won by his years, his patriotism and his courage! A crowd of admirers perpetually passed before him; by the orderly arrangement of the ushers, they came up on the right hand side, bowed or curtsied before him, received a cordial shake of the hand, a smile and a few kind words, and then passed on to the left towards the great saloon commonly known as the East Room. Perhaps never has any President since Washington made himself so much beloved by the people as did. General during his short administration. Great love-com-pelling power had that dignified and benignant old man ! Fit to be the chief magistrate of a great, free people he was ! At least so thought Judge Merlin’s daughter as she curtsied before him, received the cordial shake of his hand, heard the kind tones of his voice say —‘I am very glad to see you, my dear ’ —and passed on with the throng who were proceeding toward the East Room. Once arrived in that magnificent room, they found space enough even for that vast crowd to move about in. This room is too well known to the public to need any laboured description. For the information of those who bad never seen it, it; is suffi-

cient to say that its dimensions are magnificent, its decorations superb, its furniture luxurious, and its illuminations splendid. Three enormous chandeliers, like constellations, flooded the scene with light, and a fine brass band, somewhere out of sight, tilled the air with music. A brilliant company enlivened but did not crowd, the room. There were assembled beautiful girls, handsome women, gorgeous old ladies ; there were officers of the army and of the navy in their full-dress uniforms; there were the diplomatic corps of all foreign nations in the costumes of their several ranks and countries ; there were grave senators and wise judges and holy divines; there were Indian chiefs in their beads and blankets ; there were adventurous Poles from Warsaw; exiled Bourbons from Paris ; and Co : manche braves from the Cordilleras ! There was, in fact, such a curious assemblage as can be met with nowhere on the face of the earth but in the east drawingroom of our President’s palace on a great reception evening ! Into this motley bub splendid assemblage Judge Merlin led his beautiful daughter. At first her entrance attracted no attention; but when one, and then another, noticed the dazzling new star of beauty that bad so suddenly risen above their horizon, a whisper arose that soon grew into a general buzz of admiration that attended Claudia in her progress through the room and heralded her approach to those at the upper end. And — ‘ Who is she ?’ ‘ Who can she be ?’ were the low-toned questions that reached her ear as her father led her bo a sofa and rested her upon it. But these questions came only from those who were strangers in Washington. Of course all others knew the person of Judge Merlin, and surmised the young lady on his arm to be his daughter. Soon after the judge and his people were seated, his friends began to come forward to pay their respects to him, and to be presented to his beautiful daughter. Claudia received all these with a self-pos-session, grace and fascination, peculiarly her own. There was no doubt about it !—Miss Merlin’s first entrance into had been a great success ; she had made a sensation. Among those presented to Miss Merlin on that occasion was the Honourable handsome, accomplished, and a bachelor. Consequently he was a target for all the shafts of Cupid that ladies’ eyes could send. He offered his arm to Miss Merlin for a promenade through the room. She accepted it, and became as much the envy of evei’y unmarried lady present, as if the offer made and accepted had been for a promenade through life ! No such thought, however, was in the young English Minister’s mind ; for after making the circuit of the room two or three times, he brought his companion back, and, with a smile and a bow, left her in the care of her father. Bub if the people were inclined to feed their envy, they found plenty of food for that appetite. A few minutes after Miss Merlin had resumed her seat, a general buzz of voices announced some new event of interest. It turned out to be the entrance of the President and his family into the East Room. For some good reason or other, known only to his own friendly heart, the President, sauntering leisurely, dispensing bows, smiles and kind words as he passed, went straight up to the sofa whereon his old friend, Judge Merlin, sat, took a seat beside him, and entered into conversation. Ah ! their talk was not about State aflairs, foreign or domestic policy, duties, imports, war, peace —no ! their talk was of their boyhood’s days, spent together; of the holidays they had had; of the orchards they had robbed ; of the well-merited thrashings they had got; and of the good old school-master, long since dust and ashes, who had lectured and flogged them !

Claudia listened, and loved the old man more, that he could turn from the memory of his bloody victories, the presence of his political cares, and the prospects of a divided Cabinet, bo refresh himself with the green reminiscences of his boyhood’s days. It was impossible for the young girl to feel so much sympathy without betraying it and attract the attention of the old man. He looked at her. He had shaken hands with her, and said that ho was glad to see her, when she was presented to him in his presence chamber ; but he had not really seen her ; she had been only one of the passing crowd of curtsiers for whom he felt a wholesome kindness and expressed a wholesale good-will; now, however, he looked at her—now he saw her !

Sixty-five years had whitened the hair of General , but he was not insensible to the charms of beauty, nor unconscious of his own power of conferring honour upon beauty. Rising, therefore, with all the stately courtesy of the old school gentleman, he offered his arm to Miss Merlin for a promenade through the rooms. With a sweet smile, Claudia arose, and once more became the cynosure of all eyes and the envy of all hearts ! A few turns through the rooms, and the President brought the beauty back, seated her, and took his own seat beside her on the sofa. But the cup of bitterness for the envious was nob yet full. Another hum and buzz went around the room, announcing some new event of great interest; which seemed to be a late arrival of much importance. Presently the British Minister and another gentleman were seen approaching the sofa where sat the President, Judge Merlin, Miss Merlin, and Mr and Mrs Middleton. They paused immediately before the President, when the Minister said : ‘Your Excelleny, permit me to present to you the Viscount Vincent, late from London.’ The President arose and heartily shook hands with the young foreigner, cordially saying : * I am happy to see you, my lord ; happy to welcome you to Washington.’ The viscount bowed low before the greyhaired old hero, saying, in a low tone : * I am glad to see the President of the United States ; bub I am proud to shake the hand of the conqueror of—of —’ The viscount paused, his memory suddenly failed him ; for the life and soul of him he could not remember the jaw-break-ing/ear splitting names of those bloody fields where the General had won his laurels. The President gracefully covered the hesitation of the viscount, and evaded his compliment at the same time by turning to the ladies of his party and presenting his guest, saying : ‘Mrs Middleton, Lord Vincent. Miss M erlin, Lord Vin cen b. ’ The viscount bowed low to these ladies, who courteously returned his salutation. * My old friend, Judge Merlin, Lord Vincent,’ then said the plain, matter-of-fact old President. The judge and the viscount simultaneously bowed, and then, these formalities being over, seats were found for the two strangers, and the whole group fell into an easy chat—subject of discussion the old question that is sure to be argued whenever the Old World and the New meet—the rival merits of monarchies and republics. The

discussion grew* warm, though the disputants remained courteous. The viscount grew bored and gradually dropped out of the argument, leaving the subject in the hands of the President and the Minister, who, of course, had taken opposite sides, the Minister representing the advantages of a monarchical form of government, and the President contending for a republican one. The viscount noticed that a •large portion of the company were promenading in a procession round and round the room to the music of one of Beethoven’s grand marches. It was monotonous enough ; but it was better than sitting there and listening to the vexed question, whether * the peoples ’ were capable of governing themselves. So he turned to MissfMerlin with a bow and smile, saying : ‘Shall we join the promenade? Will you so far honour me ?’ ‘ With pleasure, my lord,’ replied Miss Merlin. And he rose and gave her his arm, and they walked away. And for the third time that evening, Claudia became the target of all sorbs of glances—glances of admiration, glances of hate ! She had been led out by the young English Minister, then by the old President; and now she was promenading with the lion of the evening, the only titled person at this republican court, the Viscount Vincent. And she a newcomer, a mere girl, not twenty years old ! It was intolerable, thought all the ladies, young and old, married or single. But if the beautiful Claudia was the envy of all the women, the handsome Viscount was not less the envy of all the men present. ‘Puppy;’ ‘coxcomb;’ ‘Jack-an-ape;’ ‘swell;’ Viscount, indeed! more probably some foreign blackleg or barber.’ ‘lb is perfectly ridiculous the manner in which American girls throw themselves under the feet of these titled paupers,’ were some of the low-breathed blessings bestowed upon young Lord Vincent. And yet these expletives were not intended to be half so malignant as they might have sounded. They were but the impulsive expressions of transient vexation at seeing the very pearl of beauty, on the first evening of her appearance, carried off by an alien. In truth, the viscount and the heiress were a very handsome couple; and notwithstanding all the envy felt for them, all eyes followed them with secret admiration. The beautiful Claudia was a rare type of the young American girl—ball, slender, graceful, dark-haired, dark-eyed, with a rich, glowing bloom on cheeks and lips. And her snow-white dress of misty lace over shining satin, and her gleaming pearls and sparkling diamonds set off her beauty well. Vincent was a fine specimen of the young English gentleman tall, broadshouldered, deep - chested ; with a stately head ; a fair, roseate complexion ; light - brown, curling hair and beard ; and clear, blue eyes. And his simple evening dress of speckless black became him well. His manners were graceful, his voice pleasant, and his conversation brilliant; but, alas, for Claudia! the greatest charm he possessed for her was—his title ! Claudia know another, handsomer, more graceful, more brilliant than this viscount; but that other was unknown, untitled, and unnamed in the world. The viscount was so engaged with his beautiful companion, that it was some time before be observed that the company was dropping off and the room was half empty. He then led Miss Merlin back to her party, took a slight leave of them all, bowed to the President and departed.

Judge Merlin, who had only waited for his daughter, now arose to go. His party made their adieux and left the saloon. As so many of the guests had already gone, they found the halls and ante-rooms comparatively free of crowds, and easily made their way to the gentlemen’s cloak-room and the ladies’ dressing-room and thence to the entrance-hall. Mr Middleton went out to call the carriage, which was near at hand. And the whole party entered and drove homeward. The sky had not cleared, the drizzle still continued ; but the lamps gleamed brightly through the raindrops, and the avenue was as gay at midnight as it had been at mid-day. As the carriage rolled along, Judge Merlin and Mr and Mrs Middleton discussed the reception, the President, the company, and especially the young English viscount. ‘ He is the son and heir of the Earl of Hurstmonceux, whose estates lie somewhere in the rich county of Sussex. The title did nob come to the present earl in the direct line of descent. The late earl died childless, at a very advanced age ; and the title fell to his distant relation, Lord Banff, the father of this young man, whose estates lie away up in the north of Scotland somewhere. Thus the Scottish Lord Banff became Earl of Hurstmonceux, and his eldest son, our new acquaintance, took the second title in the family and became Lord Vincent,’ said Judge Merlin. * The English Minister gave you this information ?’ inquired Mr Middleton. Yes he did ; I suppose he thought it but right to put me in possession of all such facts in relation to a young foreigner whom he had been instrumental in introducing to my family. But, by the way, Middleton Hurstmonceux ? Was not that the title of the young dowager countess whom Brudenell married and parted with, ' years ago ?’ ‘Yes; and I suppose that she was the widow of that very old man, the late Earl of Hurstmonceux, who died childless, in fact, she must have been.’

‘ I wonder whatever became of her ?’ ‘I do nob know ; I know nothing whatever about the last Countess of Hursbmonceux ; bub I know very well who has a fair prospect of becoming the next Countess of Hursbmonceux, if she pleases !’ replied Mr Middleton, with a merry glance at his niece. Claudia, who had been a silent, thoughtful and attentive listener to their conversation, did nob reply, bub smothered a sigh and turned to look out of the window. The carriage was just up before their own gate. The whole face of the house was closed and darkened, except one little light that burned in a small front window at the very top of the house. It was Ishmael’s lamp; and as plainly as if she had been in his room, Claudia, in imagination, saw the pale young face bent studiously over the volume lying open before him. With another inward sigh, Claudia gave her hand to her uncle, who had left the carriage to help her out. And then the whole party entered the house, where they were admitted by the sleepy Jim. And in another half-hour they were all in repose.

CHAPTER LIII. THE VISCOUNT VINCENT. A king may make a bolted knight, A marquis, duke and a’ that, But an honest man’s aboon his might; Gude faith he mauna fa’ that! For a’ that and a’ that, Their dignities and a’ that, The pith o’ sense ar.d pride o’ worth Are higher ranks than a’ that. Robert Burns. The next morning, Ishmael and Bee, the only real hard workers in the family, were the first to make their appearance in the breakfast room. They had both been up

for hours— lshmael in the library, answering letters, and Bee in the nursery, seeing that the young children were properly washed, dressed and fed. And now, at the usual hour, they came down, a little hungry, and impatient for the morning meal. But for some time no one joined them. All seemed to be sleeping off the night’s dissipation. Bee waited nearly an hour, and then said : ‘ Ishmael, I will not detain you longer. I know that you wish to get to the courthouse, to watch the Emerson trial; so I will ring for breakfast. Industrious people.must not be hindered by the tardiness of lazy ones,’ she added, with a smile, as she pub her hand to the bell cord. Ishmael was about to protest against the breakfast being hurried on his account, when the matter was settled by theentrance of Judge Merlin, followed by Mr Middleton and Claudia. After the morning salutations had passed the judge said : ‘You may ring for breakfast, Claudia, my dear. We will not wait for your aunt, since your uncle tells us that she is too tired to rise this morning.’ But as Bee had already rung, the coffee and muffins soon made their appearance and the family gathered around the table. Beside Claudia’s plate lay a weekly paper, which, as soon as she had helped her companions to coffee, she took up to read. It was a lively, gossiping little paper of that day, published every Saturday morning under the somewhat sounding title of ‘ The Republican Court Journal,’ and it gave, in addition to the news of the world, the doings of the fashionable circles. This number of the paper contained a long description of the President’s drawing-room of the preceding evening. And as Claudia read it, she smiled and broke in silvery laughter. Everyone looked up. ‘ What is it, my dear ?’ inquired the judge. ‘Let us have it, Claudia,’ said Mr Middleton. ‘ Oh, papa ! oh, uncle ! I really cannot read it out—it is too absurd !Is there no way, I wonder, of stopping these reporters from giving their auction-block schedule of one’s height, figure, complexion, and all that? Here, Bee—you read it, my dear,’ said Claudia, handing it to her cousin. Bee took the paper and cast her eyes over the article in question ; but as she did so, her cheek crimsoned with blushes, and she laid the paper down. ‘ Read it, Bee,’ said Claudia. ‘ I cannot,’ answered Beatrice, coldly. ‘ Why not?’ ‘lb makes my eyes burn even to see it! Oh, Claudia ! how dare they take such liberties with your name?’ ‘ Why, every word of it is praise—high praise. ’ ‘ lb is fulsome, offensive flattery.’ ‘ Oh, you jealous little imp !’ said Miss Merlin, laughing. ‘ Yes, Claudia, I am jealous ! not of you ; but for you—for your delicacy and dignity,’ said Beatrice, gravely. ‘ And you think, then, that I have been wronged by this public notice ?’ inquired the heiress, half wounded and half offended by the words of her cousin. ‘ I do,’ answered Beatrice, gravely. ‘Asif I cared ! Queens of society, like other sovereigns, must be taxed for their popularity, Miss Middleton !’ said Claudia, half laughingly, half defiantly. Bee made no reply. Bub Mr Middleton extended his hand, saying : * Give me the paper. Claudia is a little too independent, and Bee a little too fastidious, for either to be a fair judge of what is right and proper in this matter ; so we will see for ourselves, judge.’ Judge Merlin nodded assent. Mr Middleton read the article aloud. It was really a very lively description of the President’s evening reception—interesting to those who had nob been present; more interesting to those who had ; and most interesting of all to those who found themselves favourably noticed. To the lastmentioned the notice was fame—for a day ! The article was two or three columns in length ; but we will quote only a few lines. One paragraph said : ‘Among the distinguished guests present was young Viscount Vincent, eldest son and heir of the Earl of Hurstmonceux and Banff. He was presented by the British Minister.’ Another paragraph alluded to Claudia in these terms : ‘ The belle of the evening, beyond all competition,was the beautiful Miss M n, only daughter and heiress of Judge M n, of the Supreme Court. It will be remembered that the blood of Pocahontas runs in this young beauty’s veins, giving lustre to her raven black hair, light to her dusky eyes, fire to her brown cheeks, and majesty and grace to all her movements. She is truly an Indian princess.’ « Well !’ said Mr Middleton, laying down the paper, ‘ I agree with Bee ! It is really too bad to be trotted out in this way, and have all your points indicated, and then be dubbed with a fancy name besides ! Why, Miss Merlin, they will call you the “ Indian Princess ” to the end of time, or of your Washington campaign !’ Claudia tossed her head. *\\ hat odds ?’ she asked. ‘ I am rather proud tobe of the royal lineage of Powhatan ! They may call me Indian princess, if they like ! I will accept the title !' ‘ Until you get a more legitimate one ! laughed Mr Middleton. ‘ Until I get a more legitimate one,’ asserted Claudia.

‘ But I will see McQuill, the reporter of the “ Journal,” and ask him as a particular favour to leave my daughter’s name out of his next balloon full of gas !’ laughed the judge, as he arose from the table. The other members of the family followed, and each went about his or her own particular business. This day being the next following the first appearance of Miss Merlin in society, was passed quietly in the family. The next day, being Sunday, they all attended the church. But on Monday a continual stream of visitors arrived, and a great number of cards were left at Judge Merlin’s door. In the course of the week Claudia returned all these calls, and thus she was fairly launched into fashionable life. She received numerous invitations to dinners, evening parties and balls ; but all these she civilly excused herself from attending ; for it was her whim to give a large party before going to any. To this end, she forced her aunt Middleton to issue cards and make preparations on a grand scale for a very magnificent ball. * It must eclipse everything else that has been done, or can be done this season !' said Claudia.

‘ Humph !’ answered Mrs Middleton. ‘We must have Dureezie’s celebrated band for the music, you know !’ ‘ My dear, be charges a thousand dollars a night, to leave New York and play for anyone !’ ‘ Well ? what if it were two thousand—ten thousand ? I will have him! Tell Ishmael to write to him at once 1’ ‘ Very well, my dear ! You are spending your own money, remember !’ * Who cares ? I will be the only one who engages Dureezie’s famous music ! And, aunt Middleton ?’ . ‘ Well,, my dear ?’ ‘ Vourienne must decorate the rooms !’

‘ My dear, his charges are enormous !’ ‘So is my fortune, aunt Middleton! laughed Claudia, ‘ Very well,’ sighed the lady. ‘And—aunt?’ ‘ Yes, dear ?’ ‘Devizac must supply the supper.’ ‘ Claudia, you are mad ! Everything that man touches turns to gold—for his own pocket!’ Claudia shrugged her shoulders. ‘Aunt, what do 1 care for that? lean afford it! As long as he can hold out to charge, I can hold out to pay ! I mean to enjoy my fortune, and live while I live !’ * Ah, my dear ! wealth was given for other purposes than the enjoyment of its possessor !’ sighed Mrs Middleton. ‘I know it, aunty ! It was given for the advancement of its professor! I have another object besides enjoyment in view ! I say, aunty !’ * Well, my child ?’ ‘ We must be very careful whom we have here!’ ‘Of course, my dear.’ ‘ We must have the best people,’ ‘ Certainly.’ ‘ We must invite the diplomatic corps.’ ‘ By all means.’ ‘ And—all foreigners of distinction, who may be pre-'ent in the city. ’ ‘ Yes, my love.’ ‘ We must not forget to invite—’ ‘ Who, my dear ?’ ‘ Lord Vincent.’ ‘ Humph ! Has he called hero ?’ * He left his card a week ago.’ The day succeeding this conversation, the cards of invitation to the Merlin ball were issued. And in ten days the ball came off. It was—as Miss Merlin had resolved it should be —the most splendid affair of the kind that has been seen in Washington, before or since. It cost a small fortune, of course, but it was unsurpassed and unsurpassable. Even to this day it is remembered as the great ball. As Claudia had determined, Vourienne superintended the decorations of the reception, dancing and supper rooms ; Devizac furnished the refreshments ; and Dureezie the music. The elite of the city were present. The guests began to assemble at ten o’clock, and by eleven the rooms were crowded. Among the guests was he for whom all this pageantry had been got up—the Viscount Vincent.

With excellent taste, Claudia had on this occasion avoided display in her own personal appointments. She wore a snow-white, mist-like tulle over white glace silk, that floated cloud-like around her with every movement of her graceful form. She wore{|no jewellery, but upon her head a simple withe of the cypress vine, whose small green leaves and tiny crimson buds contrasted well with her raven black hair. Yet never in all the splendour of her richest dress and rarest jewels had she looked more beautiful. The same good taste that governed her unassuming toilet, withheld her from taking any prominent part in the festivities of the evening. She was courteous to all, solicitous for the comfort of her guests, yet not too officious. As if only to do honour to the most distinguished stranger present, she danced with the Viscount Vincent once ; and after that declined all invitations to the floor. Nor did Lord Vincent dance again. He seemed to prefer to devote himself to his lovely young hostess for the evening. The viscount was the lion of the party, and his exclusive attention to the heiress could not escape ob servation. Everyone noticed and com mented upon it. Nor was Claudia insensible to the honour of being the object of this exclusive devotion from his lordship. She was pleased and flattered, and whenever Claudia was in this state of mind her beauty became radiant. Among those who watched the incipient flirtation commencing between the viscount and the heiress was Beatrice Middleton. She had come late. She had had all the children to see properly fed and pub bo bed before she coulrl begin to dress herself. And one restless little brother had kept her by his crib singing songs and telling stories until ten o’clock before he finally dropped off to sleep, and left her at liberty to go to her room and dress herself for the ball. Her dress was simplicity itself—a plain white tarletan with white ribbons; but it well became the angelic purity of her type of beauty. Her golden ringlets and sapphire eyes were . the only jewels she wore, the roses on her cheeks the only flowers. When she entered the dancing-room she saw four quadrilles in active progress on the floor ; and about four hundred spectators crowded along the walls, some sitting, some standing, some reclining, and some grouped. She passed on, greeting courteously those with whom she had a speaking acquaintance, smiling kindly upon others, and observing all. In this way she reached the group of which Claudia Merlin and Lord Vincent formed the centre. A cursory glance showed her that one for whom she looked was not among them. With a bow and a smile to the group she turned away and went up to where Judge Merlin stood for the moment alone. ‘Uncle,’she said, in a tone slightly reproachful, ‘is nob Ishmael to be with us this evening?’ ‘My dear, I invited him to join us, but he excused himself.’ ‘Of course, naturally he would do so at first, thinking doubtless that you asked him as a mere matter of form. Uncle, considering his position, you ought to have pressed him to come. You ought not to have permitted him to excuse himself, if you really were in earnest with your invitation. Were you in earnest, sir?’ ‘ Why, of course, 1 was, my dear. Why should I not have been ? I should have been really glad to see the young man here enjoying himself this evening.’ ‘ Have I your authority for saying so much bo Ishmael, even now, uncle?’ inquired Bee, eagerly. ‘ Certainly, my love ! Go and oust him from his den. Bring him down here, if you like, and if you can,’ said the judge, cheerily. Bee left him, glided like a spirit through the crowd, passed from the room and went upstairs, flight after flight, until she reached the third floor, and rapped at the door of Ishmael’s ‘ den.’ ‘Come in,’ said the rich, deep, sweet voice—always sweet in its tone 3, whether addressing man, woman or child—human being or dumb brute-‘Come ir,.’ Bee entered the little chamber, so dark after the lighted rooms below. In the recess of the dormer window, at a small table lighted by one candle, sat Ishmael, bending over an open volume. His cheek was pale, his expression weary. He looked up, and recognising Bee, arose with a smile to meet her. ‘ How dark you are up here, all alone, Ishmael,’ she said, coming forward. Ishmael snuffed his candle, picked the wick, and set it up on his pile of books that it might give a better light, and then turned again smilingly towards Bee, offered her a chair, and stood as if waiting her commands. ‘ What are you doing up here alone, Ishmael ?’ she inquired, with her hand upon the back of the chair that she omitted to take.

‘I am studying “Kent’s Commentaries,”’ answered the young man. ‘ I wish you would study your own health a little more, Ishmael! Why are you not down with us ?’ * My dear Bee, I am better here.’ ‘ Nonsense, Ishmael! You are here too much ! You confine yourself too closely to study ! You should remember the plain old proverb—(proverbs are the wisdom of nations, you know) —the proverb which says : “ All work aud no play makes Jack a dull boy.” Come!’ ‘My dear friend Bee, you must excuse me.’ ‘ But I will not. ’ ‘ Bee—’ ‘ I insist upon your coming, Ishmael !’ ‘ Bee, do not. I should be the wrong man in the wrong place.’ ‘ Now, why do you say that ?’ ‘ Because I have no business in a ballroom, Bee,’ ‘ You have as much business there as anyone else !’ ‘ What should I do there, Bee ?’

‘ Dance ! waltz ! polka ! At our school balls you were one of th 6 best dancers we had, I recollect. Now, with your memory and your ear for music, you would do as well as then.’ ‘ But who would dance with me in Washington, dear Bee ? lam a total stranger to everyone out of this family. And I have no right to ask an introduction to any of the belies,’ said Ishmael. ‘ I will dance with you, Ishmael, to begin with, if you will accept me as a partner. And I do not think- you will venture to refuse your little adopted sister and old playmate ! Come, Ishmael.’ * Dearest little sister, do you know that I declined Judge Merlin’s invitation ?’ ‘ Yes, he told me so, and sent me here to say to you that he will not excuse you, that he insists npon your coming. Come, Ishmael!’ ‘ Dear Bee, you constrain me ! I will come ! Yes, and I confess lam glad to be “constrained.” Sometimes, dear, we require to be compelled to do as we iike, or, in other words, our consciences require just excuses for yielding certain points to our inclinations. I have been secretly wishing to be with you all the evening. The distant sound-of the music has been alluring me very persuasively. (That is a magnificent band of Dureezie’s, by the way.) I have been longing to join the festivities. And I am glad, my little liege lady, that you lay your royal commands on me to do so.’ ‘ That is right, Ishmael ! I must say that you yield gracefully ! Well, I will leave you now to prepare your toilet. And —lshmael?’ ‘ Yes, Bee ?’ ‘ Ring for more light! You will never be able to render yourself irresistible with the aid of a single candle on one side of your glass,’ said Bee, as she made her laughing exit. Ishmael followed her advice in every particular, and soon made himself ready to appear in the ball. When just about to leave the room he thought of his gloves, and doubted whether he had a pair for drawing-room use. Then suddenly he recollected Bee’s Christmas present that he had laid away as something too sacred for use. He went and took from the parcel the straw-coloured kid gloves she had given him, and drew them on as he descended the stairs, whispering to himself : ‘ Even for these I am indebted to her—may Heaven bless her !’ {To be Continued.)