and remember, Bessie, my dear child, what a dreadful, what a wicked thing it would be to take such an ignoble advantage of your mother's absence.' Dr. Grey, indeed!' cried Bessie, with a laugh.

'Let me tell you, my dear old Bookworm, for I fear you will never find out for yourself, that it is you, not my unworthy self, that your excellent Doctor wants for his wife!'

Her sister looked at her with displeasure gathering in her face.

'What possible good can it do you to make such an absurd statement? Really, Bessie, I gave you credit for some sense!' she said severely.

'Well, I never gave you credit for any. So I'm not disappointed. Ha, ha, ha! But, Barbara, do be rational for once-marry the man who has been in love with you for years, and let me marry the one who wants me ! Do, you dear old duck!'

And she threw her arms persuasively around her sister's neck. She did not repulse her, but after a moment's thought she said seriously: 'Bessie, you are so much in the habit of calling me by the name of some bird that I suspect you of a latent talent for the study of ornithology, I would advise you, my dear, to forget this vexatious affair in the pursuit of it.'

Bessie burst into a loud ringing laugh and ran from the room, firmly convinced that she could hood-wink her sister yet.

Barbara followed her at once. She dismissed the two seamstresses, paying them up to the expiration of the time for which Bessie had engaged them. Bessie did not mind this at all, for her trousseau was almost completed, and the best part of it securely packed away in a friend's house.

Mr. Venner was in the habit of visiting his betrothed every evening; he did not press her to name the day of their marriage, and as it was impossible for her parents to return within a certain time, Bessie was content to wait. Her sister was now always

present at their interviews, and her lover was so evidently annoyed and displeased that poor Bessie was troubled and anxious. Once or twice in the hall where she bade him goodnight, he had even been rough and unkind in his manner, and as time went on, she was much perplexed. The truth was, Mr. Lloyd Venner was rather tired of the girl he had entrapped so easily and had begun to think the game was not worth the trouble, or the sacrifice of his freedom. One evening he did not come as usual, and Bessie, after flitting nervously around for a while, sat down to read. Presently Barbara entered with a shade of anxiety upon her face.

6

'Bessie, have you seen papa's goldheaded cane?' she said. That valuable one that the students gave him, I mean, and which he prizes so highly?'

.

'No, I don't remember having seen it for some time.'

'It usually stands in the hall, but is not there now; I have questioned the servants but they know nothing about it.'

'Nor do I, Barbara. It has evidently been stolen.'

At this moment the door bell rang, and a look of happiness flashed into Bessie's face while her sister's darkened with annoyance.

These expressions changed places, however, when the door opened, and Dr. Grey came in. He was a finelooking young fellow with a tall, powerful figure, intellectual face and head, and a general air of talent and capability about him. His hair and moustache were blond, eyes clear, blue, and large, and features handsome and regular. Barbara glanced from him to her sister with a look that said, 'Look on this picture, and on that!' After he had taken a seat she told him about the loss of the cane, but he could only agree with her that it had been stolen from the hall. They talked together and Bessie read, or pretended to do She was disappointed at the non

So.

appearance of her lover, although she half-dreaded his coming now, for she knew that he hated Dr. Grey, while the but partially-concealed contempt with which he was regarded by the latter, made her face burn in spite of her love. But besides this, there was another cause for her disappointment. Bessie was little more than a child, though a wilful one, and Mr. Venner had promised to bring with him this evening a set of pearls, necklet, earrings, and pin-which Bessie had consigned to his keeping to have re-set. She was impatient to see how they were improved by the new setting, and when ten o'clock arrived without bringing either lover or jewels, she arose to go to bed with tears of vexation in her eyes. Before she had said good-night the bell rang again, and a servant entered and handed her a letter. She took it with a gratified smile as the man retired, saying no answer was required. Bessie just glanced at her sister and Dr. Grey for permission, and then tore it open. In a few moments they were both startled by a sharp cry, and turning quickly around, saw Bessie lying on the floor. had slipped from the sofa in a dead faint. Her sister took the crushed paper from her hand, and Dr. Grey, seeing she began to recover almost immediately, lifted her gently on to the lounge.

She

Read this?' said Barbara, handing him the letter. He glanced at her white face and blazing eyes, wondering to see such a change upon a reposeful countenance, then after a moment of hesitation, took the paper and read:

'DEAR MISS BROWN.-I find that constant contact with that iceberg of a sister of yours has cooled the love I once professed for your foolish little self. You will consequently excuse my future absence from your house, under the circumstances. Hoping you won't spoil your pretty eyes over my loss you have still Dr. Grey, you know I will say adieu. LLOYD VENNER.

'P. S.-I forgot to take the pearls to Stag's, so will keep them as a souvenir. 'L. V.'

'Dastard!' muttered Dr. Grey, between his clenched teeth. 'The infamous scoundrel!' And then as a shudder ran through the pitiful little form on the sofa, he knelt beside it and chafed the cold hands tenderly.

Dr.

Bessie opened her eyes, and seeing the kind friendly face bending over her, she threw her arms around his neck and burst into a passion of sobs and tears upon his shoulder. Grey was not in the least disconcerted; he looked upon Bessie quite as a sister, and had known her almost from babyhood. He petted and soothed her into calmness, and turned to give some directions to her sister; she was gone.

Barbara thinking that, at

last, matters had adjusted themselves between these two as she wished, had glided from the room with all the discretion of a practised matchmaker.

Dr. Grey gave his instructions to Bessie, exacted a promise that they should be obeyed, and left the house.

He returned next evening. Barbara was alone. He laid her father's cane upon the table.

'That villain has had enough of that!' he said, with a grim smile. But the pearls he had changed into gold; and, for Bessie's sake, I let them go!'

'Good heavens, is it possible?' exclaimed Barbara, betrayed into a demonstrative expression for once.

'Yes, Miss Barbara, the man is a thief-and worse! But we will hear no more of him; he has left the city.'

I am glad and grateful,' she said, and before he could say another word she had left the room. He bit his lip and sighed, but sat down and waited for a few moments. Bessie came in looking both pale and wan. She started when she saw her father's cane lying on the table, and caught

hold of a chair, but only for a moment. Then she set her lips firmly together, and went over to the young doctor.

'Are you better?' he asked, with a smile.

'Oh, yes! Did you want me particularly, Harold?'

He looked at her inquiringly. She coloured faintly, then laughed softly and said:

'Barbara told me you wanted me! Harold, my sister is under the impression that you that you always want me, and, as it's just a little awkward sometimes, I wish you would make her understand that it isn't me you want. '

And she gave him her hand and smiled in his face. He pressed her hand eagerly in his.

'Bessie, do you think I have any chance' he cried. 'I have never dared to breathe a word to her. Your sister is not like other women, Bessie, you know.'

'Oh, but she is a woman all the same, and she loves you, too, only she doesn't know anything about it,' Bessie said, sagely.

Dr. Grey looked at her with an expression of half delight and half doubt. 'Try and see!' said Bessie. 'Only let me give you a piece of advice-put it to her in the plainest possible terms or she won't understand you.'

At this moment Barbara entered the room, and seeing the two sitting hand in hand, she beamed upon them and walked over to a little writingdesk. She did not write, however, but sat looking out of the window with a pensive face and a longing, faraway look in her beautiful eyes.

Bessie smiled and slipped away. Harold Grey rose and stood beside the woman he had loved silently so long. She lifted her eyes and met his with all the strength of love beaming in them. She coloured very faintly, then she, too, rose and they stood looking at each other.

'Is it all settled? Has Bessie promised to marry you?' she asked, lay

He cap

ing her hand upon his arm. tured it with his other hand and held it tightly.

ute.

'It isn't settled at all, Barbara, but I want you to settle it now, this minDearest Barbara, your sister Bessie is a sweet little thing, but I don't want her for my wife! I want you! I have always loved you, and you, if any one, must be my wife ! Will you, darling?'

He gazed down upon her, smiling into her eyes when he found she did not draw back from him, and wondering if he had made himself sufficiently plain.

'How very strange!' murmured Barbara.

'I do not think it strange that I should love the loveliest and sweetest woman in all the world!' cried Dr. Grey, gaily. But tell me, Barbara, will you marry me?'

She looked at him with a sweet, half bewildered smile.

'Why, yes, if you wish it, Harold -with pleasure.'

He drew her to his heart and pressed one passionate kiss upon her lips. She trembled all over, and blushed pink to the tips of her fingers.

Then she said softly:

'I believe I love you, Dr. Grey.' 'Then, am I the most blessed of men!' he said.

She clasped her hands together and placed them on his shoulder, and laid her smooth flushed cheek upon them, looking up at him dreamily.

'The sensation is very agreeablevery exhilarating!' she murmured, and then joined in the burst of merriment which the remarks drew from her lover, and from Bessie who had just opened the door. So Barbara married Dr. Grey, and Bessie went to live with them. She never found any one to build up her faith in mankind which Lloyd Venner had so cruelly shattered to its foundation. She was quite content to be 'old maiden aunt' to her sister's children, who

THE

THE question before us is as simple as need be. Is there or is there not from men towards women what we call chivalry, and do men prove it by their actions?

We may pass over the offence of making a young lady a present without giving her the privilege of choosing' what it shall be. I saw, the other day, a list of wedding gifts, a whole column of the paper long. It would have taxed the bride-to-be's

ingenuity, that would. Nor need we dwell on the unsubstantial pudding'

6

-a mere vol au vent-of a compliment. We all take kindly to them. I know I do, and do not enquire too curiously into them. Why should

the men have them all? Ladies like them too, perhaps just the shadow of a shade better.

Let us turn to the solid pudding. Mr. Trollope said, it seems, they should be kept harmless while men suffer. They should be kept warm while men are cold. They should be kept safe while men are in danger. They should be enabled to live while men die in their defence.' Let us see whether this be true.

Some years ago, a ship called the Northfleet, at the outset of her voyage to Australia, with a large number, some hundreds, of emigrants-men, women, and children- -was wrecked, as well as I remember, by collision with another vessel, off Dungeness in the British Channel. There was no hope but she must go down. There was panic and tumult of course. There was an indiscriminate rush, they knew not whither; for safety, they knew

If

not where. The captain, with a rifle in his hand from the ship's armoury, commanded them to fall back. They should all be saved, he told them, as far as time would allow, and he would be the last man to leave; but the women and children should go first, and he would shoot any man on the spot who should disobey, or in any way obstruct the performance of his orders. One man did disobey, and the captain shot him-shot him dead. The boats were got out, properly manned, and the greater part of the women and children were saved; but time was short; the ship went down with all remaining on board, the captain with them. This is no scenic effect, got up for show; it is historically true. this was not chivalry towards women, please say what it was? If this was not being kept safe while men were in danger; if this was not being enabled to live while men died in their defence; please say what it was? But we have not done with it. Let us suppose that time had sufficed, and that all had been saved. A curious question arises as to the nature of the captain's act in shooting that man. Would he have been tried for murder, and, if not, why not? What right had he to shoot him? On what principle did he do it? Had not the man as much right to have his life saved as the women had their's? Was life not as dear to him as to them? Was he better prepared to meet a sudden and frightful death than they were? Were its terrors greater for them than for him? These questions are answered in one word-Chivalry. Had the captain