"You certainly help to make it charming," he said politely, “but "You remain a skeptic all the same." "If you please," with a deprecating humility which his flashing eyes contradicted. "Why don't you speak out boldly and say what you think"? said Mrs. Lawlor, with an air of resignation, "instead of flinging little sarcasms at me. I suppose you object to society because it is raw-crude-but it will adjust itself in time." "Is this second generation of slim-legged, spoiled children to adjust it?" he inquired rather impatiently, and with a comprehensive gesture. "Gracious powers! What does it matter whether society is crude or not. I only dislike it because it isn't modest. It's ambitions are tawdry; it lacks nobility; it lacks dignity; it lacks discretion; it lacks honor. (I hope that's bold enough to please you.) A friendly female detective in brocade and diamonds told me not half an hour ago that the palatial mansion which we are at the present moment occupying as honored guests is mortgaged; that the beautiful souvenirs we received to-night would probably not be paid for; that this gaudy luxury had to be balanced by everyday meanness, out of all proportion with the outside dazzle. Is that true?" and he turned on her with a laugh and frown. Mrs. Lawlor flushed and hesitated. "Mr. Russell is very much embarrassed, I believe. They have lived pretty fast, and they are new people, you know "New?" with an indescribable accent. "Well, newer, if you insist upon splitting hairs; but Mr. Graves is tiding Mr. Russell over his difficulties, and they expect to make it all right. To tell the truth, that is why we are all here to-night. Mr. Graves thought it better to show that things were serene; and the presence of a few influential people does a great deal, really." "My informant mentioned that it was Mrs. Russell's influence which procured their deliverance?" added Gurney dryly, with his eyes on the ground. "No, of course not; that's just the point I want settled in my mind. I'm no Edipus to guess your society riddles," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "I take it on its own representation, I assure you. To judge from the gossips and slanders, little and big, offered me in drawing-rooms and club-rooms, society is about equally divided between vulgar respectability and vicious intrigue. Every man and woman is a self-elected critic, and the criticisms sweep the whole ground covered by the tents of the Philistines. But I have noticed that when a malcontent outsider, or a would-be satirical journal, collects some of this society refuse and holds it up to view, there is an indignant murmur all along the social ranks, and a chivalrous press comes to the rescue, declaring that never since the world began were there such elegant, refined, cultured ladies and gentlemen as those who fill the luxurious homes of our city. Now, to use a phrase more forcible than polite, there must be a lie somewhere. I don't pretend to understand it. I am only a poor, rusty, untutored countryman, bewildered by the sophistries of the gay world." "Sophistries of the gay world is good," said Tina behind them, before Mrs. Lawlor could speak. "I don't know what it's all about but I'll stake all my possessions on the 'gay world.' Go on; I wont interrupt." "You can't expect any society to be made up of saints," said the widow, ignoring this saucy intruder. "The good and bad people are mixed as impartially here as in any place; only those who are wealthy or fashionable occupy a more conspicuous position, and their actions are commented on accordingly." "Then they ought to make themselves worthy of their position," said Gurney curtly. "Now you're only talking for talk's sake. I know you are not so priggish and oldfashioned as to suppose that people are going to be good for the sake of setting an example; or good for goodness' sake." Tina was hanging over the back of the so "You mustn't believe all you hear," she fa with her dark head thrust between them. said hastily. "Why don't you turn colporteur, or what ever you call these tract-men, Mr. Gurney, and slip a little moral pamphlet between your partner's fingers in the german, instead of a favor; or read an essay on nobility of character in the stock board? Your opportunities to do good are endless. I've always wondered how you could 'frivol' your time away with worthless wretches like us," and she looked mischievously from one to the other. "Is it real?" asked Tina, leaning over with apparent breathless anxiety. Her neighbor blushed, but deceived by such seriousness, whispered softly, “I-I think so." "Oh, I'm so glad," and the little wretch shook her head with a long sigh of relief, while Gurney bit his lips to keep from laughing outright. "Did you ever see such an old curiosity shop," murmured Tina, with the utmost sangfroid, turning to her companion. "You'd better offer her a tract on the evils of inquisitiveness. Let's go and find Lord Terrier and Helen. I wonder if he's any relation Mrs. Lawlor rose slowly and settled her flounces in place, to show Tina that she was de trop. "You're so logical, my love, that I'll leave you to convince Mr. Gurney; I can't." "What's it all about?" and the logician to Dandy. Looks kind of Skye-y, don't he, adopted a wearied air. "I've abused the privilege given me to speak my mind," and Gurney clasped his hands in contrition; "but I swear by the bones of my ancestors never to do it again. I believe " "Oh, don't say your creed," put in Tina flippantly; "if it's a question of belief, I believe that if you want anything to eat, you had better get it now. The infants are to be fed separately; the supper room is perfectly lovely, and I'm hungry for the first time in my life." "I can't go till I'm forgiven," said Gurney, with a smile that would have disarmed deeper wrath than Mrs. Lawlor's. "I don't give you up yet," she said, hitting him a playful little tap with the fan he handed back as he bent low before her, and just then a fair, slim young man came up breathlessly, and took her away to dance. "You don't know how old I feel beside Aunt Fanny," sighed Tina, looking after the widow's trim, retreating figure. "Her flow of spirits is perfectly amazing." Near the little table where they had their ices for Tina's hunger was a hollow mockery-sat Gurney's too-curious friend, Mrs. Payson, and they became much interested in her endeavors to settle the status of the exquisite plate she held in her lap; but at last by an ingenious ruse she lifted it to replace her napkin, glancing as she did so at the peculiar mark underneath. with those frizzly mutton-chop whiskers? Englishmen are getting to be a sort of epidemic here; they come round once or twice a year, like ague in the lower countries -don't you think so?" Miss Graves always insisted on having her views corroborated. "See Mrs. Russell rolling up her eyes at papa. What idiots men are anyhow. I hate her," industriously mixing genders. "She's a regular Mrs. Joey Bagstock-do you remember Joey?" "Devilish sly?" laughed Gurney. Tina gave him one of the quick, humming bird dips of her head that stood for assent. "And tough," she added. "Helen calls me Dickens's Manual. I do love him, don't you? Don't you? There's Mr. Ballard dancing again. I know he'll go to pieces some day- All at once and nothing first, just as bubbles do when they burst.' "Oh, here are our friends, with mamma. Don't Helen look handsome tonight?" Lord Skye's sleepy eyes brightened at sight of Tina. The more saucy and unconventional she was, the more he seemed to admire her. Violet Terrys were common enough in his own country, but Tina was a new sensation, and novelty was what the rather blasé young lord was in search of Gurney found it easy enough now to under stand Jack's jealous, misanthropical burst. Mrs. Graves was trying to draw he companion out on the subject of his lat Ou hunting experiences on the plains, but he only responded in languid monosyllables. "What, did you say you shot rattlesnakes?" asked Tina curtly. Her mother's obsequious attention annoyed her. "Christina!" said Mrs. Graves severely. "Christina ? is that your name. It sounds familiar," said Gurney. "I wish you could see a namesake of yours that I know." "Tell me about her," with quick excitement. "Never mind Lord Skye's rattlesnakes; they'll keep," with a bewitching little moué, that softened her rudeness; and when she had led Gurney on very unwillingly to give a description of the Traufner family mines, his own and her father's share of their fortunes, she was restlessly eager to see them, to do something for them. "I'll adopt my namesake, and send her to school by and by. I'll take her some candy, some dresses-what would they like? Would they fire me out if I tried to play Lady Bountiful?" —this vicious bit of slang for Lord Skye's and her mother's benefit. "I don't suppose you've left anything for me to do," she added, giving Gurney a very sharp glance; and for the time everything else was forgotten in her imaginary benefactions. "Such people are so very ungrateful," said Mrs. Graves coldly. "We've done so many things for different people and our efforts have been so poorly rewarded, that I never listen to doleful stories from the poor. The only way to reach them is through relief societies. I belong to several of those. "Mrs. Rivers will agree with me, I know," as that lady came near, ostensibly to find her cousin; but she very characteristically forgot her mission, and began to dilate on the gulf which separated benevolence and charity, while Lord Skye was interviewed at length, and to his intense disgust, on the subject of English indigence and poor-laws. Some more people drifting restlessly about added themselves to the group. Gurney deliberately turned his back on the conversacione thus formed, and sat down near Helen. "I wish," he murmured, folding his arms on the low Chinese table that stood between them, and regarding her with grave earnestness, "that you would take a leaf from Mrs. Graves's good book and show a little charity-to me." "You seem to take pleasure in forcing me into a penitential attitude," she answered with a faint smile. "I was discourteous to you to-night, and I apologize. Is that the amende honorable?" "No," he said very decidedly; "my wrongs lie deeper than that small piece of injustice. I'm tired of badinage and cobweb friendliness. I want something more. I want you to believe in me. At least, give me an opportunity to prove myself worthy of your trust." "Isn't this rather a curious place for confidences?" said Miss Oulton demurely, glancing past him at the animated cluster of talkers, but touched more than she chose to confess by this unexpected appeal. It was the sort of appeal which no other man of her acquaintance would have had the courage to make, or the grace to make well, under such circumstances. If he had bungled or stammered, she would have despised him; but he sat looking at her, as indifferent to the people at his elbow as if they two were alone in a desert. He lifted his eyebrows at her question. "What do you want ?" she asked slowly and rather doubtfully, after a long silence. "I'm not insatiable"; and his gravity melted into a very winning smile. "I only want the barest justice, but that includes a good many other things. Let me see. I want you to promise not to reject my next Christmas present- " "Come, Helen, come," called Mrs. Rivers hastily, as if she had but just discovered their presence in her vicinity. hands," he said, with a gesture of apology for his presence, as he handed Helen a note and a little silver key. "What's that for?" said Mr. Rivers, testily. "Ah-ah-yes, of course, that's all right," as he caught his wife's eye and was appalled by its withering light. And he pretended to be occupied with. the children, while Helen, with an eagerness of which she was half-ashamed, a curiosity she had not felt since a child, had gone to her room. On her dressing table stood a silver box of delicate filagree work, and when her key was called into service, there lay a bed of heavy-scented crimson roses, set in their own glossy leaves. Something flashed from the heart of the dewy, velvety moss, and with a little of excitement she hastily drew out a small dagger, whose antique and fantastically carved gold hilt was thickly set with stones- rubies, emeralds, "That's easy to promise," said Miss Oulton as she rose. "I will pledge myself to almost anything that's a whole year away." "And I want a present myself; you didn't give me anything you know, and—-pray don't go-I want my picture, and you must come to my æsthetic symposium day after to-morrow," he added eagerly, as she moved away, and he followed her, with his head bent to catch her words. "Anything else?" she asked, in amiable topaz-she could not quite make them out. irony. "Of course, I'll continue to draw on you at sight for such small favors till I consider my claims cancelled. Be generous," he repeated, as she looked at him curiously, searchingly. "I don't know yet whether I can afford to be," she said. "I am very poor; poorer than Mrs. Graves's ungrateful pensioners in what you ask for-faith; but I'll do the best I can." "Thank you; no man can do more"; with intense appreciation in his tone, and a glint of triumph in his eyes. When the Rivers's carriage-full reached home, a stolid little figure rose from one of the stiff, ebony, hall chairs like a dusky gnome summoned by some magic incanta tion. "Who in the devil" - began Mr. Rivers, indignantly; but Tasse, as cheerful and alert as if he were a noon-day instead of a midnight messenger, came forward quickly, beaming with smiles, and bestowing the benedictions of the season on the children to whom he was a piece out of wonderland itself. "To be delivered into Madamoiselle's own The gold chasing was worn, and the steel tarnished, but the workmanship was so exquisite that Helen turned the vicious little toy over and over as if fascinated. Two or three scraps of severed rose-leaves stuck to the blade, and she swiftly brushed them off-they looked so much like blood drops with another shiver as her fingers touched the keen edge. Finally she slowly opened the note. "Please consider this," it said, "your first object lesson in bric a-brac. The specimen enclosed is warranted genuine, and is hoary with antiquity. It was presented by an old Spanish priest to Dr. Weston, who in turn gave it to me, who in turn lay it at your feet. No doubt, it has a romantic history. and might suggest a picture of some jealous Zorayda behind the gilded lattice of a Gra nada palace, with an accompaniment of low ers, moonlights, and mandolins. But neve mind that or the later tradition that an edge gift cuts friendship. Your first duty is t believe in this as an article of vertu, afte ward it may serve for a paper-knife or wha you will. Always your friend, CONTINUED IN NEXT NUMBER. | "STEVEN GURNEY. COMMITTEE OR CABINET GOVERNMENT? "The only conceivable basis for government in the New World is the national will; and the political problem of the New World is how to build a strong, stable, enlightened, and impartial government on that foundation."-Goldwin Smith. "A humorist of our own day has laughed at Parliaments as 'talking shops,' and the laugh has been echoed by some who have taken humour for argument. But talk is persuasion, and persuasion is force; and the one force which can sway free men to deeds such as those which have made England what she is."-J. R. Green. The House of Representatives is a superlatively noisy assembly. Other legislative bodies are noisy, but not with the noise of the House of Representatives. We are told that the slightest cause of excitement will set the French National Assembly frantically agog; that the English House of Commons is often loud voiced in its disorderly demonstrations; and that even our stolid cousins, the Germans, do not always refrain from guttural clamor when in Reichstag assembled. Our own House of Representatives, however, indulges in a confusion peculiar to itself. Probably the representatives them-' selves soon become accustomed to the turmoil in which they are daily constrained to live, and are seldom heedful of the extreme disorder which prevails about them; but a visitor to the House of Representatives experiences upon entering its galleries for the first time sensations which it is not easy to define or to describe. The hall of the House is large beyond the expectation of the visitor. For each of the three hundred and twenty-five Representatives there is provided a roomy desk, and an easy, revolving chair-a chair about which there is space ample enough for the stretching of tired legislative legs in any position of restful extension that may suit the comfort of the moment. The desks and seats stand around the Speaker's chair in a great semicircle, ranged in rows which radiate from that seat of authority as a center. Here and VOL. III.-2. there a broad aisle runs between two rows of seats, from the circumference of the semicircle to the roomy spaces about the Clerk's and Speaker's desks. Outside the seats, and beyond the bar which surrounds them, are other broad, soft-carpeted spaces; and still there is room, beyond these again, for deep galleries to extend on every side their tiers of benches, before the limiting walls of the vast hall are reached. Overhead, framed by the polished beams which support them, are great squares of ground glass, through which a strong light falls on the voting and vociferating magnates below. One would suppose that it would require. a great deal of noise to fill that great room. Filled it is, though, during the sittings of the House. It is not the noises of debate, but the incessant and full-volumed hum of conversation, and the sharp clapping of hands that strikes the ear. The clapping of hands is not sustained and concerted, but desultory, like a dropping fire of musketry; for these gentlemen in their easy chairs are not applauding any one-they are only striking their palms together as a signal-call to the young pages who act as messengers and errand-boys, and who add the confusion of movement to the confusion of sound, as they run hither and thither about the hall. Members, too, stroll about, making friendly visits to the desks of acquaintances, or holding informal consultations with friends and. colleagues. When in their seats, they seem engrossed in assorting documents, in writing letters, or in reading newspapers, whose stiff rattle adds variety to the prevailing disorder. Some business is evidently going on the while; though the on-looker in the gallery must needs give his closest attention in order to ascertain just what is being done. Now and again a member rises and addresses the chair, but his loudest tones scarcely reach the galleries in the form of articulate speech; and the responsive rulings of the |