man whose remarks she neither dared to ued to take so warm "an interest" in be sympathetic with or irritated by, since Val; but she was wise and made no fureither demonstration would have be-ther remark. "I wonder who this Mr. trayed her father, who had done it all. Brown may be?" was all she said, and So she hurried home next morning, at-instantly set her wits to work to find tended by her maid, breathless till she something for Violet to do. In a house reached the mother, the natural receiver where there were so many boys this was of all her plaints and troubles. Mrs. not difficult; and it cannot be questioned Pringle saw there was something to tell that at this crisis of her young existence from the first glance at Violet's counte-Moray Place was much safer for Violet nance, in which all her emotions writ than the Hewan. The next two days themselves easily to the accustomed eye. were each made memorable by a note She sent her up-stairs to "take off her from Dick. They were couched almost things," and followed her, hoping that in the same words, and Violet reading old Lady Eskside might perhaps have them over and over again could extract met the child somewhere, and melted nothing from them more than met the towards her, the only imaginable way in eye. Dick, in a very careful handwriting, which any renewal of friendship could be too neat perhaps, and legible, wrote as possible. When she heard what it was, follows: however, Mrs. Pringle shook her head. "My dear," she said, "you are letting your feelings run away with you. Men don't get ill and take fevers from excitement except in novels. No doubt there must be something wrong about Rosscraig; these old houses are never quite to be depended upon. God knows that letter has done you and me harm enough, more harm than it could do to Valentine - but we have taken no fever. I am very sorry for him, poor fellow; but he's young, and has a good constitution no doubt he'll pull through; and my Vi must not cry like this for a man that is nothing to her," the good mother said, proudly putting her handkerchief and her hand, which was still softer, across Violet's streaming eyes to stop her tears.

“Oh, mamma, how can I help it?" sobbed poor Vi.

"My darling, you must help it. I am not saying it will be easy. Me myself, with children of my own that take up my mind, I find myself thinking of that poor boy when I have plenty other things to think of. Ah, Violet, you kiss me for that! but, my dear, ask yourself - after what has come and gone-how could it ever, ever be ?"

"No one wants it to be !" said Violet, with one of her vehement impulses of maiden pride, raising her head from her mother's shoulder with a hot, angry flush covering her face; "but one does not cease to take an interest in one's -friend, because of any quarrel. I am friends with him forever, whatever happens. No one can say anything against that. And we are cousins, whatever happens. I told Mr. Brown so."

-

Mrs. Pringle shook her head over the friendship and cousinship which contin

"MADAM,

Mr. Ross is just the same. This is not to be wondered at, as I told Miss Violet that there could be no

change till Saturday. With your permission I will write again to-morrow. obedient servant,

- Your

" I

was

"RICHARD BROWN." Even Mrs. Pringle could find nothing to remark upon in this brief epistle. wonder how he knows your name? all she said, and Violet did not feel it necessary to enter into any particulars on this point. The second bulletin was just like the first. Mrs. Pringle had this note in her pocket in the evening after dinner when her husband came up to her with an excited look, and thrust the little local Eskside paper, the Castleton Herald, into her hand. "Look at this!" he said, pointing out a paragraph to her with a hand that trembled. How glad she was then that this conveyed no shock to her, and that Violet knew with certainty the state of the matter which the newspaper unfolded so mysteriously! "We regret to learn," said the Herald, "that the new member for the county, Mr. Ross, whose election so very lately occupied our pages, lies dangerously ill in England of fever — we suppose of that typhoid type which has lately made so much havoc in the world, and threatened still greater havoc than it has made. We have no information as to how the disease was contracted, but in the mean time Lasswade and the neighbourhood have been thrown into alarm and gloom by the sudden departure of such members of the noble family of Eskside as were still remaining at Rosscraig. We trust before our next week's issue to be able to give a better account of Mr. Ross's state."

self) have hurt Val or any one, for all the Eskside estates ten times over; and if anything happened to the boy he could never hold up his head again, as his wife said. He had been wretched enough since that miserable election-day. He had been conscious that even his own friends looked coldly upon him, sus

"Just yours," said Mrs. Pringle-pecting him of something which went "just yours, Alexander; and if the boy should die which as good as him have done — what will your feelings be ?”

"My feelings?" said Mr. Pringle; "what have I to do with it?-did I give him his fever? Of course it must have been bad air or some blood-poisoning or something. These are the only ways in which fever communicates itself; but as he spoke (for he was not a bad man) his lips quivered, and there was a tremor in his voice.

"It is easy to say that- very easy to say it and it may be true; but if you take the heart and strength out of a man, and leave him no power to throw off the ill thing when it comes? Alexander," said Mrs. Pringle, solemnly, "I will never hold up my head again in this world if anything happens to Val!"

too far for ordinary political animosity or the fair fighting of honourable contest; and feeling that his own very family, and even the wife of his bosom, were against him, though Mrs. Pringle, after her first very full and indignant expression of her opinion, had said no more on the subject. Still he had not her moral support, a backing which had scarcely ever failed him before, and he had the sense of having broken all the ties of friendship with the Eskside family — old ties which, though he did not love the Rosses, it was painful altogether to break. He had thrown away those ties, and made his adversaries bitter and his friends suspicious. So little was Mr. Pringle a bad man, that he had pursued these thoughts for a long time in his secret heart without recollecting that, should "You speak like a fool -or a woman. Valentine die, he would be reinstalled in It comes to much the same thing," cried his position as heir-presumptive. When her husband; and he went away down- this suddenly flashed upon him, he threw stairs and shut himself into his library himself in his chair and covered his fice quivering with the hot sudden rage which with his hands. In that case it would be belongs to his conscience-stricken state. murder, mere murder! He would have How miserable he was, trying to study a killed the boy for the sake of his inheritcase in which he had to speak next day, ance. This startled him beyond anything and able to understand nothing except I can say. Perhaps the profoundest and that Valentine Ross was ill, perhaps dy- most impassioned of all the prayers that ing, and through his means! He had were said that night for Val's recovery never meant that. He had meant to have rose in a sudden anguish of remorse and his revenge for an imaginary wrong, and surprised guilt from the heart of Val's many little imaginary slights, and per- enemy. He shook like a man struck with haps to make his young supplanter lose palsy; his nerves contracted; the veins his election; but that he might put Val's stood out on his forehead. He had never life in danger or injure him seriously had meant to harm the boy-never, never, never entered into Mr. Pringle's thoughts. God knows! - except in some momentHe tried to persuade himself that it was ary way, by a little shame, a little disapno concern of his, pursuing in an under-pointment, which could have made no current, as his eyes went over his lawpapers, all the arguments about sanitary precautions he had ever read. "What a fool I am to think that could have had anything to do with it!" he cried, throwing away his papers when he could bear it no longer, and beginning to pace up and down his room. What a burning restless pain he had at his heart! He cast about him vaguely in a kind of blank hopelessness what he could do, or if he could do anything. This he had never meant. He would not (he said to him

real difference in so happy and prosperous a life. The pain of this thought gripped him as with the crushing grasp of a giant. What could he do, he said to himself, writhing in his chair — what could he do to make amends? If he could but have believed in pilgrimages, how gladly would he have set out barefooted to any shrine, if that would have bought back the young life which was ia danger! Heaven help him! of all the people concerned there was no one so 'entirely to be pitied as poor Mr. Pringle,

lying there prostrate in his chair without any strength left in him, bodily or mental, or any one to back him up, saying to himself that perhaps it might be that he had murdered Val. He seemed to see before his eyes the bold handsome boy, the fine young fellow all joyous and triumphant in the glory of his youth; and was it his hand — a man with children of his own whom he loved that had striken Valentine down?

the Hon. Mrs. Richard Ross, in Oxford, when the first symptoms of fever made their appearance, and accordingly, had from the first every medical attention, as well as the most devoted nursing which affection could give."

The paper fell out of Mr. Pringle's band when he had read this. Sandy grasped him by the arm, thinking he would have fallen too. "For heaven's sake," cried Sandy, in a fierce whisper, Next day Mr. Pringle broke down in his "don't make an exhibition of yourself case before the courts, and looked so dis- here!" Mr. Pringle did not answer a tracted and miserable that the very lords word, not even to the apologies with of session took notice of it. Sandy which, when they were safe out of the Pringle is breaking up early," Lord Birk- crowded precincts of the Parliament hill said to Lord Caldergrange; "he House, his son followed these hasty unnever had any constitution to speak of." filial words. He went home to Moray "Perhaps it is family affection and anx- Place in a condition of mind impossible iety about young Ross of Eskside," said to describe, feeling himself like a man Lord Caldergrange to Lord Birkhill; caught in a snare from which there was and these two learned authorities, both no exit. The Hon. Mrs. Richard Ross, old enough to have been Sandy Pringle's his mother! Had he really read those father, chuckled and took snuff together words in black and white? Were they over his family affection and his early no fiction, but true? His heart was rebreakdown. The news from the Castle-lieved a little, for Val was better; but ton Herald about Val's illness was copied how could he ever extricate himself from that morning into all the Edinburgh pa- the labyrinth he had got into? He had pers. Mr. Pringle himself, being of the defied the Rosses to produce this mother, Liberal party, saw only the Scotsman, and her appearance seemed to Mr. Prinwhere it was simply repeated; but when gle to close up every place of repentance he was leaving the Parliament House, his for him; to put him so terribly in the son Sandy came to him with the Courant, wrong that he could never face his friends which, as every body knows, is the Con-again, or the public which knew him to servative paper, the one in which a be the author of that fatal letter to the communiqué from the Eskside party electors of Eskshire. Surely no sin ever would naturally appear. "Have you seen had such condign and instantaneous punthis, sir?" said Sandy, not, his father ishment. He was not a murderer, that thought, without a glimmer of vindictive was a thing to be thankful for; but he satisfaction. They were all against him, could be proved a liar - a maker of cruel, wife and children, friends and circum-unfounded statements a reporter of stances. But the paragraph in the Cou- scandals! He shut himself up in his rant was one of a very startling descrip- library, making some pretence of work tion, and had already woke up the half of to be done. As for Sandy, he did not go Edinburgh everybody who knew or in at all, being angry and unhappy about professed to know anything of the Esk- the whole business. That Valentine's side family to wonder and interest. mother should be found, and his rights, The Courant gave first the paragraph which Sandy had never doubted, fully from the Herald, then added another of established, he was heartily glad of. its own. "We are glad to be able to add Mrs. Pringle's wise training had saved that more favourable news has been re- Sandy from even a shadow of that folly ceived this morning of Mr. Ross's con- of expectation which had so painfully dition. The crisis of the fever is now affected his father; but Sandy was indigpast, and all the symptoms, we under- nant beyond description, hurt in his stand, are hopeful." Then came the fur-pride, and mortified to the heart, that his ther information which took away every-father should have put himself in such a body's breath. We are authorized to mean position. I do not think there was state," said the Courant," that Mr. Ross, any tingling recollection in him of the whose severe illness at such an interest-blow Val had given him. If he had berne ing juncture of his life has called forth so malice, it would have vanished utterly at much public interest and sympathy, was the first mention of Val's illness; but he fortunately at the house of his mother, did not bear any malice. He bore an

other burden, however, more heavy- Mrs. Pringle. "I believe he is a good the burden of shame for his father's un- young man; but perhaps it was a little warrantable assault, which, out of respect rash to take him into your confidence. for his father, he could not openly dis- I think I heard your papa come in. Go own, but must share the disgrace of, and see if he is in the library. It might though he loathed the offence. I think be a comfort to him to know that Val is Sandy may be excused if he felt himself better. Go; and if you see an opportutoo cross, too wretched in his false posi- nity, tell him. Say I have had a letter; tion, to face the rest of the household, that is all that it is needful to say." and convey to them this startling news. Violet, though reluctant, obeyed; and They had, however, their news too, Mrs. Pringle read Dick's letter again, not scarcely less startling. It was the Mon- knowing what to make of it. What did day after the Saturday on which Val had he mean by signing himself "Richard”? passed the crisis of his fever, and Sun- by calling Val by his Christian name? day had been very trying to these two Her conclusion was, that this boatman, women in its entire cessation of news, as in whom Violet had so rashly put confiSunday so often is in cases of anxiety.dence, was presuming upon the girl's When Dick's letter at last came, there openness and innocence. Mrs. Pringle was something in it which they scarcely thanked heaven that her child "had the noticed in their first agitation of joy, but sense " to ask him to write to her mother, which, by dint of much reading, came out who was quite safe, and quite able to very strongly at last to their puzzled per-manage any presuming person. She ceptions. There was an indescribable could not make up her mind about this, indefinite change in their correspondent's feeling an uneasy consciousness in the style. But the reader shall judge for letter of something unexplained, somehimself what this was. thing more than met the eye, to which, however, she had no clue; but she reshould have no further encouragement; solved, at least, that this young man that she would herself write to him, thanking him for his communication, and woman of politely dropping him, as a how to do. Perhaps it had been impruMrs. Pringle's age and condition knows dent of Violet to refer to him at all; but it was an imprudence of which no further harm had come. She resumed

"DEAR MADAM,—I am happy to tell you that the crisis is over, and Valentine is decidedly better. Perhaps you are aware that all the family are here. He has recognized us all, and, though weak, will soon regain his strength, the doctor thinks. Other things have happened, of a very wonderful kind, which I can scarcely write about; but I hope it may now be possible that I may one day see you, and explain everything to Miss Violet which she may wish to know. I do not like to run the risk of agitating Valentine by telling him that I am writing, but, if you will permit me, I will write again; and I hope you will always be so very kind as to think of me, whatever may be the change in circumstances, as yours and Miss Violet's obedient ser

vant,

her work, putting away the letter calmly enough, for the urgency was not great while Violet went down-stairs to the enough to call for any speedy action; afraid of the morose tones and look into library, somewhat tremulous, and half which of late her father had fallen. When she went in, he snatched up some of his papers, and pretended to be study"RICHARD." ing them very closely, the Courant

"What does it mean?" said Mrs. lying at his side upon the writing-table; Pringle. "I am afraid the young man is but it was the law-papers, and not the taking too much upon himself. To sign Courant, which Mr. Pringle pretended himself just 'Richard' to you and me, is to read. Violet made a shy circle round a piece of presumption, Vi; and to call the table, not knowing if she might venLord Eskside's grandson Valentine'!ture to speak. Her courage failed her, I am not bigoted about rank, as you know; but this is too much."

Violet was confounded too. 66 Perhaps in nursing he has got familiar without knowing it," she said. "Oh, mamma, you could not think he was presumptuous if you had seen Mr. Brown."

"That is all very well, my dear," said

until she suddenly remarked, underneath the shadow of the hand which supported his head, that her father was watching her, and that his face was very grey and pallid in the noonday light. This gave her resolution enough to conquer her timidity. She went up to him, and put [her hand softly on his shoulder.

"Papa," she said, "I came to tell you that burden. She clasped her father that Valentine is better to-day. Mamma has just had a letter

round the neck and whispered consolation. "Papa, dear! you have nothing to do but to say this to them. Oh, what makes you think you don't know what to do? Say you were wrong, and that you are sorry. One is so certain that this must be the right thing."

He shook her away not unkindly but with a little impatience. "You don't know-you are too young to know," he said.

"I know he is better," said Mr. Pringle, with a sigh; and then he pointed out to her the notice in the paper. "He is better; but there is more behind more than we know." Vi read the paragraph wondering. It did not affect her except with surprise. "His mother?" she said, "I never knew -"and then she bethought herself suddenly of all that had passed, and of that "Papa, can there be any doubt?" said fatal attack upon Valentine which had (no Violet, in the majesty of her innocence. doubt) brought on his fever, and which" When one has done wrong, one undoes threatened to separate him from her for- it, one confesses that it was wicked. ever. "Oh, papa!" she cried suddenly, What else? Is it not the first lesson one with a flash from her eyes which seemed learns in life?" said the girl, serene in to scorch the culprit like a gleam of angry perfect certainty, and sadly superior to yet harmless lightning; then she added, her age, in what she considered her exlooking at him fixedly, with indignant perience of that existence of which she firmness: "But you are glad of this? already knew the sorrows. She stood glad he is better? glad his mother is over him as grave and sweet as an angel, found, and that everything will go well?" and spoke with entire and childlike conMr. Pringle paused a moment looking fidence in her abstract code. "We all at her. He was afraid to contradict her. may be wrong," said Violet, "the best of He answered hurriedly, half servilely us; but when we find it out we must say "Yes, yes I'm glad;" then, with a so, and ask pardon of God and of those groan-"Vi, I am made a fool of. I whom we have wronged, papa. Is there am proved a poor, mean, paltry liar; that any other way?" was never what I meant to be. Perhaps I said more than was right; but it was for justice, Vi-yes, it was for justice, though you may not believe what I say."

If you consider all that Violet had suffered, you will perceive how hard it was for her all at once to look upon this question impartially, to believe what her father said. She turned away her head from him in natural resentment. Then her tender heart was touched by the tones of wretchedness in his voice.

"Yes," he said, getting up from his chair, "you may think it was all ill-feeling and so many think; but it was for justice too. And now, apparently, things are turning out as I never expected. I did not believe in this woman, and God knows whether it may not be a cheat still. But if this is true that they are bold enough to put in the newspaper, then," said Mr. Pringle, with a groan, "I'm in the wrong, my dear-I am in the wrong, and I don't know what to do." He sank down again, leaning his head on the table, and hiding his face in his hands. Vi's heart melted altogether. She put her soft arm round his neck, and bent down her head upon his. She did not feel the bitterness of being in the wrong. It seemed to her innocent soul that there was so easy a way to shake off

From The Contemporary Review. SAXON STUDIES.

BY JULIAN HAWTHORNE.

SIDEWALKS AND ROADWAYS.

(concluded.)

VI.

ALONG with the new districts which have of late years been added to the city, the Dresdeners have seen fit to provide themselves with a tramway. As an intelligent inhabitant informed me, tramways were first invented about two years ago, and Dresden was one of the first cities to make practical use of them. It commonly happens that we are most proud of those things which we have, as it were, discovered ourselves; and accordingly this honest populace regards its novel experiment with no little satisfaction, not unmixed with wonder, and even awe.

I was not so fortunate as to be present at the first launching of these extraordinary engines; but about a fortnight later I was attracted by the sight of a large and excited crowd assembled on the corner of Prager and Waisenhaus Strasse. At that time there were rumours of strikes and disaffection among