"hirings" the countrymen and wenches stood to be hired as farm laborers or servants. Facing the market-cross on the left hand of the square stood a splendid old stone house-a mansion in size, solidly built, large, commodious, and handsome; and with a date over the door of 1558, showing that it had been built in the first year of the reign of good Queen Bess. It rose straight out of the street, its gardens lying behind, and it was called Yoresett House. It was the property of Mrs. Conisbrough, and the residence of herself and her daughters. Over the way there were houses and shops, small village shops, full of the marvelously useless articles only to be found in such shops, and higher up, the winding, roughly-paved street narrowed, first up a hill, and then down one, and consisted of an inn or two and a shop or two and the post-office and many odd-looking houses, inhabited by what the denizens of the busy world would doubtless have thought odd-looking people. It was altogether as old-world, quiet, quaint a place as could well be imagined. The dog-cart was pulled up before the door of the old stone house, and before Judith could get down, the said door was quickly opened, and in the frame made by this process appeared a young, fresh, handsome face, with dark, dare-devil eyes, while a young voice, harsh, but not shrill, cried: "I'm glad to see you, Judith! I thought it must be you. Be quick in, and tell us all the news. The slippers are kept in the same place yet, so you needn't ask that. How do you do, uncle? Come, Judith, we want the news, the news, the news, I say, and we shall turn you outof-doors if you haven't got any." Judith's box was conveyed into the house by a servant-maid; she shook hands with her uncle, exchanged some parting words with him, and then she was pulled into the house; the door was shut, and Mr. Aglionby drove off down the street, to take another road to Scar Foot. Judith, her arm still grasped by her sister, entered the roomy, stone-paved hall of the old house which was her home, and paused there, as if not quite sure which way she meant to take; whether one that should lead into one of the numerous parlors or sitting-rooms on the ground floor, or whether toward the staircase. Her course was decided for her. The young lady who had appeared at the door-or rather, part of whose person had appeared at the door, while the remainder of it and her attire were carefully concealed behind the said door-now stood, or rather danced, revealed as a tall, healthy-looking damsel of fifteen or sixteen, still in short frocks, and with a large, coarse kitchen-apron tied around her. She wound it into a kind of rope, and danced lightly and bewilderingly around her elder. "No, you are not going up-stairs," she said decidedly. "You are coming into the parlor, to enjoy a cup of tea, and above all, to tell us the news. So don't attempt to shirk it." "Suppose I have no news?" suggested Judith, moving with serene dignity toward a door on the left hand of the hall. "That is an idea too monstrous to be entertained for a moment. You have spent four whole days in a great city, at an hotel-of course you have news; I would give the world to stay at an hotel, it must be so grand! What a swell I should feel, if I were you!" "My dear Rhoda "How vulgar you are!' I know what's coming, and am kind enough to spare you the trouble of saying it." She laughed, still jumping lightly from one foot to the other. Judith looked at her, and smiled, too, indulgently. "Well, at least take off that apron," said she, pausing just before the parlor door. "Don't present yourself before mother with such a thing on." "Why not, I wonder? Besides, I can't take it off till my work is done." "What work? You working!" "Well, I'll tell you," said Rhoda, a ripple of mirth running over her face. "Ho, ho, ho!" she burst into a peal of laughter that made the rafters ring; "I'll tell you-I'm plucking a goose!" "Plucking a goose!" "Just so. One came-was sent I mean; you could hardly expect the poor thing to walk over of its own accord from Scar Foot; and that lazy old Geoffrey Metcalfe had never plucked it. He is an aged impostor, if there ever was one. Louisa has plenty to do, poor creature! so there was literally no one to do it but me, and I've been in the kitchen, lost to all outside things, absorbed in my work and my work alone, as you so often say I should be. Come in! I think mother and Delphine are both Oh!" She had pushed open the door and entered the 316 parlor, but suddenly recoiled on the very threshold, almost falling over upon her sister, who, filled with a somewhat impatient astonishment, put her aside and entered the room. "Mother and Delphine" were certainly there; the former a comely-looking matron, resembling her eldest daughter in features, but with a high complexion, and eyes which lacked the steadfastness of Judith's; the latter a very lovely, slender, fair-haired creature, who sat in a side-window embroidering. Rhoda's "oh" had been called forth by the fact that they were not alone. Standing in the window recess, and languidly propping himself against the side of it, was a tall young man, who, with his hands clasped behind him, had fixed his eyes upon Delphine's work, and who appeared either too exhausted or too indolent to lift them off it again. Judith, inwardly as much surprised as Rhoda at the apparition, advanced, nevertheless, with her usual composure. Delphine rose and went to meet her, undulating forward, with a peculiarly Rhoda, after graceful and sylph-like movement. her first recoil, took courage and went forward, her color high, but her eyes defiantly laughing. A kiss on the part of the two elder girls. Then Judith went to her mother, stooped over her and kissed her, remarking: "I'm glad to see you haven't suffered while I You look very well." have been away, mother. "I am very well, my dear, and very glad to see you back! You are earlier than we expected.” "We came by the Midland instead of the North Eastern, mamma." "Oh, yes. My dear, let me introduce our visitor. Mr. Danesdale, my eldest daughter." Mr. Danesdale bowed low, rousing himself appar ently from his languor to do so; Miss Conisbrough smiled and asked: "Sir Gabriel's son ?" "S-Sir Gabriel has the happiness to call me son," replied the young gentleman, with a very slight lisp, a very slow and pronounced drawl, and a south country accent which struck with peculiar effect upon Judith Conisbrough's north ern ears. some face, which was even sad in its tired solemnity of expression. He had mournful, slow-moving eyes of dark-blue, over which the lids fell thoughtfully -or sleepily? Judith speculated. His general expression and manner was one of weariness and "That goose: ennui carried to excess. "Good afternoon," he drawled. is it nearly done?" "Ah, you never plucked a goose, never saw one done, in your life, Mr. Danesdale," she said, blushing, more with suppressed laughter than embarrassment. "I've n―-never done it myself, certainly; but I've often seen other fellows do it; or if not geese, pigeons, which comes to the same thing, you know." "Fie, Mr. Danesdale !" said Mrs. Conisbrough, smiling with a placid amusement expressing anything but fie. "But why, mamma ?" cries Miss Rhoda, thirsting for information. "What is there wrong in watching people pluck geese, or pigeons either? You are casting a reflection upon your child And if Mr. Danesdale's when you say 'fie.' friends "Oh, I beg pardon; I didn't say 'my friends,' There's a difference," I said 'other fellows.' expostulated Mr. Danesdale. "Well, it's very funny," replied Rhoda, while the rest of the company smiled, and the young man placed a chair for Judith, opening his eyes fully at last, and saying: "You have been at Irkford, Mrs. Conisbrough says." "Yes, with Mr. Aglionby, my uncle." "Indeed. W-what sort of a place is it? I never was there, though I used to know some fellows at Oxford who had been. They lived there when they were at home." "I can hardly tell what sort of a place it is. Very large and very dirty" "Oh, what a poor, tame description!" said Rhoda. "You little know what she did while she was there, Mr. Danesdale; nor what she went for. She went on purpose She is a dangerous person. to go to the Liberal Demonstration." "You have been long expected," she said. "Both," replied Judith, taking off her gloves. "Yet I came quite unexpectedly after all," he answered, turning to Rhoda and holding out his The young gentleman had seated himself, and hand to her. Not a smile dawned upon his hand-appeared in no haste to take his departure. He was dressed in a brown velvet shooting-jacket and knickerbockers, and now Judith remembered to have vaguely noticed a gun leaning up against the wall in the hall. Rhoda at this juncture was beckoned to by her mother, and going to her, received some whispered instructions which sent her skipping out of the room. "Judith is the politician of this family," observed Rhoda. "She has been known to sit up at night reading political books." "And where did you get your politics from ?" he asked. "Chiefly from my uncle." "By the way, Judith, how is your uncle? I "D-does she always run ?" asked young wonder he didn't come in," said Mrs. ConisDanesdale earnestly. brough. The others laughed. "Almost always. I wish she would practice walking a little, now that she is such a big girl," said Delphine, speaking for the first time. "I dont think I should tell her so," he said in a tone that was almost animated. "She looks very nice as she is!" "He-oh, he seemed rather in a hurry to get back to Scar Foot," answered Judith, with a sudden constraint in her manner, which Delphine noticed with a quick look upward. "Have you seen Mr. Aglionby yet, Mr. Danesdale ?" asked Judith. "He and Sir Gabriel are great friends, though such very opposite charac "Yes, I think so," Judith said, and Mrs. Con- ters." isbrough turned to her. "Mr. Danesdale has been kind enough to bring us some birds, Judith; so he's going to stay and have a cup of tea, and walk home to Danesdale Castle." "To walk!" Judith had said in some surprise, and before she had time to restrain herself. "You seem surprised," he remarked. "I often notice that people do look surprised when they hear that I can walk at all, and then I always feel inclined to say, 'Would you rather look a better walker than you are, or be a better walker than you look ?''' "The last for me," said Judith laughing. "It is much easier to answer than the one about being a fool and looking one." "At least it is "Perhaps it is," he admitted. very beautiful to have it decided for you so promptly. I have heard a great deal about you, Miss Conisbrough. I have pictured you in my own mind, marching on with the multitudes to the Liberal Demonstration at Irkford.” "Our chariot marched along, and that very slowly, for the multitude was very great, literally." "I suppose it would be. Irkford is such a t-tremendous place for that sort of thing." "Only Irkford ?" suggested Delphine, presenting him with a cup of the tea, which, accompanied by Rhoda, had now arrived. "Yoresett, too, it seems," he answered; "which is what I should never have expected. Miss Conisbrough, did you really go because you wished, or on compulsion ?" "I went because I wished." "I've heard a lot about him, but I have not seen him. That is a lovely place of his by the lake-what is it called ?" "Shennamere." "Shennamere-yes. I rode over with my father, the very day after my return. But Mr. Aglionby was out, they said." "I see." "And there didn't appear to be anybody else. Has Mr. Aglionby no children ?'' There was a momentary, a more than momentary, pause and silence, during which Danesdale. thought to himself: "Now why did I ask that question? I've put my foot in it, somehow." At last Mrs. Conisbrough remarked blandly, but not cordially: "Mr. Aglionby's only son displeased him exceedingly many years ago. He married a woman his inferior in every way. Mr. Aglionby quarreled with him and disinherited him, and some years afterward the son died." "I see. It must be rather slow for the poor old fellow, I should think. He must often have regretted the loss of the only fellow with whom he could constantly quarrel." “Oh, I don't think it was his desire to be always quarreling with any one, poor old man! Of course he felt the misunderstanding.” "Rather a serious misunderstanding, to quarrel irreparably with one's only son, wasn't it?" asked Mr. Danesdale, whose drawl had almost disappeared, and whose eyes, no longer half closed, were regarding Mrs. Conisbrough inquiringly. 318 "Y-yes," replied the lady, trifling with her "It was a teaspoon, and gazing into her cup. very terrible misunderstanding. It cut him up very much. But I hope we-the girls and I have done all that lay in our power to make up to him for the loss of his son." "Ah, y-yes," said Mr. Danesdale, returning "But an only to his drawl and his hesitation. son's a difficult thing to replace. Being one myself, I speak from mournful experience. My father tells me, often, what an unique article I I'm sure he finds me a great anxiety, just from that very feeling that he couldn't replace Will you me if anything were to happen to me. have some more tea, Miss Conisbrough ?'' Judith started as she gave him her half-empty am. cup to put down. "No, thank you. either." I'm not thirsty, nor hungry "I should think that lake by Scar Foot must be a glorious place for skating," observed Mr. Danesdale. "Does it ever get frozen over?" "Oh, yes!" Rhoda exclaimed fervently. "It does, and when it is frozen, I could live on it. You can't think what it costs me to come off at the end of the day. I do hope the next winter will be a hard one, Mr. Danesdale, and then you I would see what it is like, all about here. always say there is no such place as Yoresett and the dale in the world, but Judith and Delphine vow they would rather live in a musty town; and why, do you suppose ?'' "Society, perhaps." "Oh, no! At least, only the society of dead They would like to live in a town because there would be libraries there." men. Scorn unutterable was expressed in the accent. laid on the penultimate word. "L-libraries. But you can have a library in Mudie's will send you the country. At least, there's Mudie's. They send all over the country. anything you want.” Another pause, till Mrs. Conisbrough began: "Well, really, in many ways, Mudie's is such a tiresome institution. They sometimes keep you so long-” "Mudie's is a delightful institution, but a very expensive one," said Judith composedly. "A box for the country, to be worth anything, costs. five guineas, and then there's the carriage to and from London." "My dear Judith, that won't interest Mr. Danesdale." Perhaps not; I only wished him to under stand." "Yes," said he, "in such a case, you want a free library." "Our library consists of fields and trees, and the running brooks," observed Delphine, laughing. "Miss Conisbrough's has been something else as well," he observed, looking at Judith, putting down his cup, and rising all at once. "Not much else," answered she. "So little else that it will take me a long time to digest all that saw and heard in Irkford while I was there." He shook hands with Mrs. Conisbrough, remarking that he would be just in time for dinner, if he took the short cut across the moor, and then, bidding adieu to the young ladies, and asking if he might come again, he took his depar(To be continued.) ture. 66 FAN FLUTTERINGS. BY ANNA M. BENEDICT. Cape hoc flabellum et ventulum huic sic facito."TERENCE. "Take the fan and give the lady a breath of air," THE wind and rain were busy outside. The first few crocuses upon the lawn looked drooping and forlorn. I was seated in my favorite corner near the cheerful hearth reading with delight Mrs. Craik's "Poems of Thirty Years." Near the window, at her little work-table, Gracie was sitting, busy with her paints, causing delicate buds and dainty blossoms to appear upon the soft satin before her. Every now and then she would interrupt me for some suggestion as to form or tint, and sometimes I could not repress exclamations · of admiration as the flowers blossomed beneath her deft fingers. "Won't this make just a lovely fan, auntie, when it is all complete and properly mounted? Did I ever make a prettier bud? See!" Then, after a few minutes, when I had turned again to my book, Gracie said: By the way, auntie, where did fans come from first ?" But though you are no doubt exceedingly anxious to know what answer 1 made to Gracie's question, yet I think you will be even more interested in it if I first tell you something more about the young lady herself. She is my brother's only daughter, and is of course the dearest girl that ever lived, though Harry, her older brother, who is now in college, we suspect has a different opinion, and Bob, who is younger, has privately informed me more than once that he thinks Grace is a nuisance. Indeed, Bob, who is suffering from the punning disease, which every one has to have as he has the measles or the whooping-cough, says she is the disgrace of the family. Gracie has had her crotchets, to be sure, as what spoiled and petted young lady has not. She is all the time suffering from some mania or other. The only one that has been lasting is the autograph mania; she has countless autographs with the usual prose or verse "sentiments," mostly of school friends and relatives, but also of some small celebrities and local magnates. These she is very fond of showing, though she usually does it when Bob is not in the room. For this irreverent young fellow laughs at his sister's autographism, as he calls it, and scouts at her great JAPANESE VISITING-CARDS, REDUCED SIZE. 1 names as those of people "so thunderin' eminent for never being heard on." But even before the autograph mania came the button craze, and with this Gracie was one of the very first to be infected. In a little while no garment in the house had its full complement of buttons. At least one had been added to Gracie's collection. All her friends were forced to contribute; every shop where she had ever traded or ever expected to trade was levied upon. Her room was soon adorned with festoons of but 1 A novelty in visiting cards has been recently introduced from Japan,-Eastern birds and flowers painted in watercolors on fan-shaped pieces of thin card-board or Watman paper. The illustration shows four different shapes in miniature size. On three of them a strip of white is spaced out for the name; a separate card is pinned to the fourth for the same purpose. |