Nobelist.

Waikato Times, Volume XXVIII, Issue 2292, 19 March 1887, Page 1 (Supplement)

Nobelist.

HARD TO WIN: THE STORY OF STRANGE LIVES BY GEORGE MANVILLE FENN, Author ok "Ship Ahoy," " Dutch the Dxvkr," " The Foundry Belle," &o. The Story: IB6o.—Strange Lives. [All Rights Reserved.] CHAPTER XXIII. LORD ROBERT IIAS ANOTHER VISIT. The sistets looked pitiously at one another, and Ren<se whispered, ' Speak to him. Tell him you did not wish to make him angry.' Clare glided to the panel, and stifling a sob, she said softly, 'Uncle, dear uncle, do not be angry with ine—l am very sorry. I was so miserable.' There was no reply—no sound to indicate that the words had been heard, and after waiting for about a quarter of an hour the two girls advanced to the door, went slowly out, and found that they had had an audience in the shape of Valentine Vidler aud his wife, who had been seated upon the stairs.

' Thank you, my dears,' said Salome, nodding and smiling. 'We like to hear you sing. You have made a very long stay to-day, and his lunch is quite ready.'

The sisters were too heartsore to trust themselves to say much, and Vidler opened the door for them, admitting as little light as he could by closing it directly and going to assist his wife. Lord Robert Denver's lunch was carried up for him upon a very long narrow tray, which took dishes and plates one after the other in a row. 'It was evidently something or several somethings very flavoury and nice from the odours exhaled, but all was carefully covered over.

It was no easy task, the carriage of that long narrow tray from the basement to the back drawing-room on the first floor, especially as there were gravies and other liquids on the tray ; but Valentine Vidler and his wife had taken up breakfasts, lunches, and dinners too many thousand times to be in any difficulty now.

So, starting from the dark kitchen where coppers, pewters, and tins shone Ifke.so many moons amidst the gloom, the odd cupple each took au end of the tray, which was quite six feet long, and Vidler's own invention. Salome went first, backwards, and Vidler followed over the level, when as the little womau reached the mat at the foot of the kitchen stairs there was a pause while she held the tray with one hand, and gave her little garments a hitch, so as to hold one end in her teeth and not tread upon them as she went up backwards. Then, stooping and holding the tray as low as she could, she began to ascend, Vidler following and gradually raising his end to preserve the level of the tray till he held it right above his head. This raising and lowering in ascent and upon level was all carried out in the most exact and regular way; in fact, so practised had the little couple grown in the course of years, that they could have carried a brimming glass of water up the gloomy stairs without spilling a drop. Hence, then, they reached the drawingroom with the tray preserving its equilibrium from bottom to top.

As soon as they were inside, Salome placed her end upon the little bracket, while Vidler retained his ; then she went out of the room, took up a big soft drumstick, and gave three gentle taps on a going that hung in its frame—three taps at long intervals, which sounded like the bommings of a bell at the funeral of a fish and a fowl, and then returned to the drawing-room and stood on the right hand side of the panel close to the wall with one hand raised.

As she took her place, the panel was softly slid back towards her, and taking off the first cover, Vidler acting in conjunction made the long tray glide slowly forwards into the opening, its end evidently resting on something within. Then two hands appeared, a knife and fork were used, with a glass at intervals, and the fish was discussed. As soon as the knife and fork were laid down Salome whipped off two more covers, and the tray glided in a couple of feet further, both Salome and licr lord keeping their eyes fixed upon the floor. The calmness and ease with which all this was carried on indicated long practice, and for precision, no amount of drilling could have secured greater regularity. As the knife and fork fell upon the plate again there was a pause, for a pint decanter and glass were now opposite the thin white hands that now approached, and removing the stopper, filled the glass. Then a cover was raised, and the tray glided once more, with some steaming asparagus on toast, aud after a short pause, the cold colourless voice was heard to repeat a short grace, the tray was slowly withdrawn, the panel glided to, and Vidler and his little wife bore the remains of the luncheon to the lower regions. Hardly had the tray been set down before there was a double knock, and on going upstairs Vidler found John Huish at the front door. ' Would his lordship give mo an interview, Vidler,' he asked. The little man looked at him sidewise, then tried the other eye, and ended by standing out of the way and letting the visitor enter, shutting out the light again as carefully as before. 'I'll try, sir,' he said, 'I don't think he will, i was just going to take up that,' he continued, pointing to a basket of coloured scraps of print. ' He's going to begin a now counterpane to-day.' ' A new what ?' said Huish. ' A new counterpane for the Faith Charity. That'll be six he has made this year. I'll show you the last.' He led Huish into the darkened diningroom, and spread before him a wonderfully neat piece of needle-work, a regular set pattern, composed of hundreds upon huriAreds of tiny scraps of cotton print. ' Hakes 'em better than many women could, aud almost in the dark,' said the little mau; 'but I'll go up and see. Miss Clare and her sister have not been gone long.' ' What!' cried Huish, ' from here ?' ' Gone nearly or quite an hour ago, sir.' ' My usual fortune,' muttered Huish, excitedly. 'But go up,' he said, aloud, ' I particularly want to have a few words with his lordship.' ' I don't think it's of any use, sir, but I'll see,' repeated the little man, and ho went upstairs, to return at the end of about five minutes, to beckon the visitor up, and left him facing the panel. It was evident that the young man had been there before, as he took a seat, and waited patienty for the panel to unclose, which it did at last; but not until quite a quarter of an hour had passed. 'Well, John Huish,' said the voice, ' what do you want ?' It was rather a chilling reception when he had come upon such a mission ; but he was prepared for it, and dashed at onco

into the object of his visit in spite of the peculiarity of having to address himself to a square opening in the wall. 'I luive come for advice and counsel, my lord,' .said Huish, firmly. ' You, a man of tlie world, living in the world, come to such an anchorite as I !' said the voice—'as I, who have for pretty well thirty years been dead to the world and its ways ?' 'Yes, Lord Robert,' said Huish. 'I come to you because you can help.' ' How much do you want., John finish ?' said the voice. ' Giro me the pen and ink.' The thin white hand appeared impatiently at the opening, with the fingers clutching' as if to take the pen. 'No, no, no, Lord Robert,' said the young man hastily, lit is not that. Lot me tell you,' he exclaimed, as the fingers ceased to clutch impatiently at the air, and ths white hand rested calmly upon the edge of the opening. ' Let me speak plainly, for lam not ashamed of it—l am in love.' There was a faint sigh here, hardly audible to the young man, who went on. ' I come to you for help and advice.' ' What can Ido to help ? As for advice,' said the voice, coldly, '1 will do what I can. Is she worthy of. your love ?' ' Worthy ?' cried Huish, flushing. ' She is an angel.' 'Yes,' said the voice, with a sigh. ' They all are. But, tell me, does she refuse your love ?' 'No, sir, she returns it.' ' Then what more do you want F But tell me, Huish, who and what is she ?' These last words were said with more approach to interest, and the fingers began to tap the edge of the opening. 'It is presumption on my part,' said Huish, growing excited, and rising to stride up and down the room, 'for I am poor and unworthy of her.' 'No true honourable man is unworthy of the woman he loves,' said the voice, calmly, ' though he may be unsuited. Go on : who is the lady ?' ' Who is she, sir ? I believed that you must know. It is your niece, Clare.' ' My God !' It was almost a whisper, but John Huish heard it, and saw that the thin white hand seemed to be jerked upwards, falling slowly back, though, to remain upon the edge of the opening, trembling. ' I shock you, sir, by my announcement,' said Huish, bitterly. 'No—yes—no,' .said the voice, 'not shook—surprise me greatly.' ' Lord Robert, if you knew how I loved her, you would not look upon it as such presumption.' There was a pause, and the fingers trembled like an aspen, as they were now and a train raised, then grew steady as they were laid down. ' I do not think it presumption,' said the voice at last. ' You do not. Lord Robert!' cried the young man, with his face changing from a look of despondency to one of joy. ' No,' said the voice ; ' but tell me," it continued trembling and becoming less cold, " does Clare return your love ?' 'Oh yes, Heaven bless her, yes,' cried the young man fervently, and there was auother silence, such as might have ensued had the owner of the voice been trying to master some emotion. ' What more then do you want,' said the voice now greatly changed. ' You, an honourable young inan in love with a girl who is all sweetness and purity. It is strange, but it is the will of God. Marry her, and may He biess the union.' ' Lord Robert, you make me very, very happy,' cried the young man ; aud before the hand could be withdrawn, it was seized and pressed in his strong grasp. It was withdrawn directly, and a fresh silence ensued, while the voice said softly, ' And my brother, does he approve ?' 'Oh, ves, I think so,' replied Huish ; "but"-— 'Yes, as I expected,' said the voice. ' Lady Denver objects—she has made a choice of her own—who is it ?' ' Sir Grantley Wilters. ' He is more than twice her acre, a roue, broken in health. It would be a crime. But you will not permit it ?' ' What can I do, sir ?' cried Huish. ' That is why I ask your help and counsel. ' Bah !' said the voice, contemptuously. 'You are young and strong. You have your wits, and Clare loves you, and you ask me for help and counsel! John Huish, at your age, under such circumstances, it would have been a bold man who would have robbed of my prize. There, go—go, young mau, and think and act. Lady Denver is a mother whose god is Mammon. She has broken one of her children's heart; do not let her break that of the other. Go now, lam weary ; this has been a tiring day. You can come to me again.' ' Do not let her break that of the other,' said John Huish to himself, as the panel slowly closed ; and from that moment the dim twilight of the shuttered house became to glorious with light, and he went away feeling joyous and elastic as he had not felt for days. As he neareel his chambers, a thin, grey, hard-faced looking woman, who stood watching for quite an honr, stepped out of a door-way, and touched him on the arm. He turned sharply, and she said, in a low voice,— 'I must see yon. Come to-morrow night at the old time.' Before he could speak she had glided away, turned down the next street and was frone. ' What can she want,' he said, gazing after her, and then, turning upon his heel, he entered the door of his chambers, and set himself to work to consider over his interview with Lord Robert Denver, and to think out some plan for defeating her ladyship in her projected enterprise. 'It would shock her,' he said at last; ' but when she knows of her uncle's views she might be influenced. She must, she shall be. The poor old man's words have given me strength, and I shall win after all.- But what slaves we are to custom and prejudice. I ought not to be the man to study them in such a case as this.

CHAPTER XXIV.

AFTER A WALK.

Lady Denver was in great trouble, and resembled more strongly than ever the heaving billows. Sbo had been so agitated several times lately that she had found it necessary to take medicinally red lavender drops, or else eau de Cologne, the latter by preference for its fragrance. She was terribly troubled, for matters had not gone so satisfactory as she could wish. There had been a death in Sir Grantley Wilters' family, and that gentloman had been unwell too, thanks to a fresh medicine man ho had tried. 'And really,' said her ladyship, 'that ungrateful child Clare does not shew the slightest sympathy.' ' Fool if she did,' said Tom, who was in the drawing-room. ' What's that fellow Garland been here for again ?' 'To see Tryphie, of course,' said her ladyship. Tom was about to make some angry reply when Clare came in with Lord Anthony leaning upon her arm, fresh from a walk, and Sir Grantley YVilters, most carefully got up in deep mourning, following behind with Tryphie. 'Now I appeal to your ladyship,' said

Sir Grantley, as soon aa the door was closed. ' There, there, there,' said Lord Anthony, ' let me tell it to her ladyship. It was all nothing, damme, it was all nothin?, aud—and—and,' ho continued, sitting down to have a rub at his leg, ' I won't have my little girl here troubled about it.' ' For Heaven's sake, behavo like a gentleman if you can,' whispered her ladyship. ' Yes, yes, yes, my dear, I will, I will,' said his lordship, while, evidently greatly agitated, Clare moved towards the door. 'No, ' pou honour, I must beg of you to stop, Miss Hetley,' said Sir Grantley Wilters. 'It concerns you so much, don't you know. Fact is, Lady Denver,' he continued, as Clare stood looking very pale before them —' fact is, wo were iir the Square walking, wheu that dettid dog came slowly up and snatched Miss Clare's handkerchief, and made off before he could be stopped. ' Well, suppose a dog did,' said Tom, coming to bis sister's rescue ; ' I suppose he was a very decent dog who preferred cleanliness to honesty, so he stole a pocket handkerchief to wipu his nose.' 'He, ho, lie,' chuckled his lordship; ' that's not bad, Tom,' while her ladyship looked daggers. ' Doosid good—very doosid good,'said Sir Grantley, ramming his glass tightly in his eye, and standing, holding his hat behind him to keep up the balance as he bent forward and stared at Tom. 'If ho had been another dog, it wouldn't have mattered, but it was—er —or—er—a very particular dog.' 'It—it—it was John Huish's dog,' said Lord Anthony, and Clare's face became crimson. ' Yes, and that's tho day vie of it,' said Sir Grantley, angrily. ' I don't choose for that fier's dog to come and take such a liberty. He was—er —hanging about for some time, and smelling his lordship's pocket, here, don't you know, and then he presumed to steal that handkerchief. Lady Denver, I feel as if I could poison that dog, I do, damme.' Just before this, Lord Anthony, who had looked terribly guilty at the mention of the dog smelling his pocket, drew out his handkerchief to hide his confusion, and brought out with it a very brown and sticky bath bun, one that his little niece Tryphie had purchased for him. This bun fell with a dab upon a little marquoterie table, behind where Sir Grantley was balancing himself, aud, knowing that her ladyship must see it at the next turn of her head, the old man looked piteously across at Tryphie, who was nearest to it, for he dared not go across to pick it up. Tryphie saw the direction of his gaze, caught sight of the bun and coloured, when Tom, who was always jealously watching her very look, followed her eyes, saw tho bun sticking to the table and divined at once whence it had come, so nonchalantly crossing the room while Sir Grantley was delivering his speech, he deftly lifted the bun and let it glide down softly into the hat the baronet was balancing behind, he being too excited to notice the difference in weight. ' Really, Sir Grantley, it was very tiresome,' said her ladyship. 'He, he, he,' laughed his lordship, putting his handkorshief to his mouth, and bending down in his chair to laugh with all tho enjoyment of a schoolboy at Tom's monkeyish trick. ' My dear !' exclaimed her ladyship. ' I —I—I was laughing at the con—con —confounded impudence of that dog,' said his lordship, mendaciously ; and her ladyship mentally promised him one of her lectures. 'It was an accident that cannot possibly occur again, said her ladyship. 'Clare, my darling, pray go and take off your things. Sir Grantley, you will stay to lunch r' 'Thanks, no,' said tho baronet, changing his position, give his hat a turn, and flourishing out the Bath bun, which fell upon the carpct before him. Her ladyship put up her eye-glass and stared at the bun ; Sir Grantley gave his an extra twist aud also stared at tho bun, poking at it with his stick ; and Clare and Tryphie escaped from the room. ' Didn't know you were so fond of buns, Sir Grantley, said Tom. ' You should have them put iu a paper bag; they make your hat lining sticky. ' That's doosid funny, Hetley,' said Sir Grantley. 'Very fond of a joke. By the way the amateurs are going to get up a pantomiue next season. Won't you join them? I'll put in a word for you. Make a doosid good clown, don't you know —I think I had him there, said the baronet to himself.' 'I will, if you'll play pantaloon,' said Tom sharply. ' You look the part to perfection.' ' Yes, doosid good.'said Sir Grantley. ' Day, Lady Tenver ; must go. Day, Lord Anthony ;' and with a short nod at Tom he left the house. ' Tom,' exclaimed her ladyship, 'if you insult Sir Grantley you will suffer for it. If you behave like that, you will be the means of breaking off a most brilliant match.' 'Thanks,' said Tom, quietly, as her ladyship was sailing out of the room. ' Yon can't make things worse for me.

' Tom, my boy,' said his lordship,' you are—are —are a regular lion, that you are. I don't know what I should do without you.' '* Fight for yourself, father, I hope,' said Torn, smiling, ' I'm afraid I do more harm than good. Meanwhile, Sir Grantley Wilters, who had not the slightest thought of breaking off the match, lot Tom Hetley behave as he would, went to keep a particular engagement that he had with Monsier Hector Launay, who was singing away to himself about ' La—Fran—ce—et—la —guer —re,' and standing beforo a glass with a pair of scissors cutting his black hair close to his skull. He was ready ori the instant, though, as Sir Grantley entered, showed him into his private room, and upon tho baronet stating his case, to wit, his uneasiness about his hair, which he said was getting thin on the crown, gave the most earnest attention to tho subject. ' I shouldn't mind so much,' said Sir Grantley ; 1 but I'm—er—going to be mar'd shortly, and I want to look my best.' Monsieur Hector took a magnifying glass from a drawer, and gravely inspected the crown before him, ending by assuring the baronet that by the use of cortaiu washes prepared by himself from peculiar and unique receipts he could restore the hairs that made him slightly thin upon the crown. Sir Grantley, in full faith, resigned himself to the coiffeur's hands, and was sponged and rubbed and scented during a space of about au hour, when he rose and paid a liberal fee, which made Monsieur Hector smile aud bow. Then he turned to go, but stopped short at the door and came back, ' Oh, Monsieur Launay, I'm told that you are a great friend of Mademoiselle Justine, Lady Denver's maid." ' I have that honour, Monsieur,' said the hairdresser, homing low. 'Ah, yes,'said Sir Wrantlcy, hesitating. ' By the way, I am Sir Grantley Wilters.' ' I have heard Mademoiselle mention Sir Wilters,' said the hairdresser, bowing. ' Yes, of course,' said the baronet. ' Look here, don't you know, I'm engaged to Miss Hetley, and I want to save her fro n pain. Ko spying—■mtiiirhnydcr — but I should bcfglad to hear of anything that

you think might interest me. Mademoiselle Justine will tell you better what I mean. Good day.' ' Bali ! —Phit !-Pts ! Big John Bull fool!' cried Monsieur Hector as soon as he was alone ; and he indulged in a peculiar saltatory exercise, indicative of kicking his client in the chest, and making derisive gestures with pointed fingers. You think I tell you what I know. Pit! Grand bdte. Big thin beast. Cochon. Come and be shampooed, and I hold you by the nose and tell you nothing. Aha ! Be your spy ? No. Justine tells me all, and I know so much that my head is full. He folded the cloth that had been spread over Sir Grantley's shoulders with a jerk, and was in the act of putting it away when something touched his leg, and looking down, it was to see Joby, and directly after John Huish entered the room. CHAPTER XXV. CLARE HETIEY'S HAIR COMES OFF. "* As time went on, Clare Hetley, who had heretofore looked with contempt upon Lady Denver's dealings with Monsieur Hector, laughing at the idea of using washes, powder, and the like, as pure water made her beautiful fair hair cluster about her clear white temples, and hang round her neck, whose skin put the most cleverly concocted pearl powder in the shade, now seemed to become somewhat of a convert to his powers. Justine confided to her mistress that Mademoiselle Clare's hair was coming off in great patches, horrifying her ladyship so that she gave Lord Anthony no sleep all one night, and the next morning when she drilled the servants, and inspected them as to smartness of livery, amount of hairpowder on, and the rest, they confided to one another that the old lady's temper was not to be borne. ' What would dear Sir Grantley say, if he knew ?' she exclaimed ; and hurrying to her secret chamber, she rang for Justine, and a long consultatiou ensued. 'Cer—tainly, miladi, if you like;' said the dark Frenchwoman, 'but that is the way to make the servants in the hall talk—they are so low, and do tattle so. Then it comes to Sir Grantley's groom's ears, and Sir Grantley's groom tells Sir Wilters, and ze mischief is all made.' ' Yea, Justine, but what can I do, my snod soul. L would not care if they were married ! it would not matter a bit. Now, don't exaggerate, Justine—great patches, do you say ?' Justine tightened her lips and plunged oue hand into the pocket of her apron to draw forth a tuft of soft fair hair and hold it up before her ladyship. ' Oli, Justine,'she half shrieked, sighing and heaving, ' this is dreadful. Poor child, she will be nearly bald. Oh, Justine, whatever you do, preserve her') hair. I know of a case where a lady of title became an old maid when she might have had a great establishment, all through losing her hair.' 'I will take the greatest care, miladi.' 'My drops, Justine, my drops. This is really too much for my nerves.' Justine hurried to a case, and brought out a falcon of spirits of red lavender, a goodly portion of which her ladyship took upon lumps of sugar, sighed, and felt better. ' What is to be done, my good Justine ? It must be a profound secret.' ' What more of ease, miladi, than for Mademoiselle to go out for ze health promenade every morning, and call upon Monsieur Hector Launay ' ' Oh, no, no,' exclaimed her ladyship, sharply. ' I could not trust her : she is too weak.' .' Wis her faithful attendant, miladi.' Her ladyship turned sharply round upon the maid, and gazed full into the dark shining eyes that met hers without a wink. 'Can I trust you, Justine?' she exclaimed. ' Who knows better than miladi?' retorted the maid. 'Is it I who goes below to the servants and betrays all miladi's secrets ? Ma foi ? no : I sooner die. And,' she added, nodding sharply, ' I know two, tre, many secret of her ladyship.' ' Yes, yes, you do, my good Justine. It shall be as you say : Monsieur Launay shall have a very high fee for his pains if he checks it. A silly, weak girl; it is nothing but fretting after that nasty, vulgar wretch. Ah Justine, if ever you become a mother, you will know what a mother's troubles really are." Her ladyship rolled in her fauteuil more like the heaving billows than ever and shed a couple of tears, either the tears or her breath smelling strongly of lavender. ' Poor miladi !' said the confidential maid, compassionately. ' Then miladi trusts me to see that Mademoiselle goes safely to the coiffeur's.' ' Oh, yes, Justine, my good soul, I will. Justine, I shall not wear that black satin, nor the ruby moire again. Alas, who would be a mother ! I have but one idea, Justine, aud that is to, see my children settled with good establishments, and they seem to do nothing but rebel against me.' ' It is very terrible, poor miladi.' ' Yes, it is dreadful, Justine,' said her ladyship, who was now shedding tears copiously. 'Even my son goes against

'It is vairy shocking of him, miladi,' said tho sympathetic maid, holding salts to her mistress's nostrils, and having her hand gratefully pressed in reply.

'Ah, me ; I am a great martyr,' said her ladyship, sobbing softly, and growius* more confiding. ' I don't know what I should do without you, Justine. Every one fights against me.' ' Poor, poor miladi,' cried Justine, sympathetically. ' Does Miss Tryphie ever talk to you about Captain Garland ?' ' She said once he was vairy handsome,' said Justine. 'Yes, yes, very, and so well connected, Justine. They say he has been rather wild ; but a man of birth may make mistakes, Justine ; they are never the serious errors of a plebeian.' 'No, miladi, never,' said the maid. 'Just a few more drops, miladi.' 'Thanks, Justine, thanks,' said her ladyship, partaking of some more lavender upoii sugar. 'That Mr Huish never calls now, I think ?' 'No, miladi, never.' ' And his dog does not come ?' ' No, miladi, I have not seen it for a month.' ' All,' sighed her ladyship, whose noble bust rose and fell from the excess of her emotions; ' mine is far from a happy life ; but go, Justine, go now ; I feel as if I could sleep. A nap might do ine good. I trust you, Justine. You shall have a gold watch and chain the day Miss Clare becomes Lady Wilters. Let her go at once.' ' Thank you, dear miladi ; merci beaucoup,' cried the Frenchwoman, bending down and kissing her ladyship's plump hand. A minute later she was in Clare's room. ' Go!' faltered the girl, trembling. 'No, no, Justine, I cannot—l dare not.' 'How, mademoiselle is timide,' said the Frenchwoman, laying her hand upon Clare's soft tresses. ' Would she have all this fail, so that when Sir Wilters, your dear husbmd, would pass his hand '! and say, 'Ah, ma belle ange, your fair tresses are adorable,' and kiss

them, and become fou with delight as he pass them over his face, would you have them thin and come out in his hands ?' Clare's face was a study as she gazed at the maid while she spoke. She shuddered, aud her features assumed a look of unutterable loathing. ' Quick, give me my hat and scarf. I will have a veil.' ' You shall, my sweet young lady. Her ladyship wills that you go often to save your beautiful hair. Ah, I would that Monsieur Hector could attend you himself, but he will be busy. You must bo content wis ze assistant." ' Justine,' said Clare, quietly. ' Do not forget our positions.' ' Ma chdre young lady, I will not,' said the Frerich-woman. ' Pardon, I was foolish. I do not forgette. Mademoiselle will let me put on the thick veil.' Full of respectful solicitude now, Justine helped her young mistress to dress, when she again began to tremble. ' Justine, I dare not,' she faltered. ' Why not, Mademoiselle ?' said the wily French-woman. " Monsieur Hector is a gentleman that at empress might trust." ' Yes, yes ; but—oh, this is dreadful !' faltered Clare, ' Mademoiselle does not think of Sir Wilters' groat sorrow if he find tny young lady has lose all her hair,' said Justine, smiling as he she watched the effect of her words ; and a few minutes after she was attending Clare on her way to Upper Gimp-street. The waxen lady had her head turned in the opposite direction, but the waxen gentleman watched her coming, and looked a combination of the mysterious and admiring, as, closely veiled Clare walked swiftly by her maid's side, trembling the while, and feeling certain that every one she passed knew her errand and was watching her. Dreading the visit as she did, it was with something like relief that she stood within the painted door, face to face with bland, genteel Monsieur Hector, who rose, laid down his three day's old copy of the Petit Journal, and bowed profoundly. ' Mademoiselle will excuse that I do not attend her myself ?" he said, respectfully. Monsieur, my assistant, is at Mademoiselle's service.' As Clare bowed, he opened the inner door that led to his private room, and returned to the front, to indulge for the next two hours in pleasant converse with J ustine. At last Justine rose to go. ' One instant, my beautiful,' whispered Monsieur Hector. ' When do I come to see La Grande Chouette ?' 'Oh, I had forgotten,—to-morrow," said Justine. ' Cette chere picture !" said Hector, taking a photograph from over the little stove and kissing it, jretnains with me ever. But stay," he said, addressing the real instead of the image. ' Behold a little packet which I prepare for my beautiful. Tooth powder for her beautious teeth ; sctnt of the best, but not so sweet as her gentle breath ; soap for her soft skin. Ah, sweet soap, sweet soap, if I were only you to be pressed in her hands,' he added, kissing it, and then presenting his offerings to his goddess, who received them like a deity, and held out one hand for him to kiss, with which he was apparently q.uite content. Then he struck a table gong, and evidently conveyed by it due notice to his assistant that he had devoted sufficient time to the new client, who shortly after came out, closely veiled, took Justine's arm, and the waxen lady had one glance at her, while the waxen geutlcman looked more mysterious than ever, as ho watched her till she was out of sight. ('To be continued.)