praise the absent Perry, telling her that he had grown to like him very much. "Still," he added, smiling in a gallant manner, "I can get along perfectly without him, at present."

This speech was not a success, either. It was a refinement of pain to poor Josephine, who knew how superficial the complimentary tone must be, since his heart was really with Octavia. But she concealed its effect upon her, and kept him engaged in talk, drawing him always a little deeper, and always with that strange trembling light in her eyes. Oliphant felt the fascination, and even felt that he might begin to succumb to it before long. Meanwhile Octavia was left mainly to the attentions of Stillman Ware, who remarked with great satisfaction that Fitz-Stuart was progressing admirably with Vivian: they had gone away by themselves towards the forward part of the yacht, under the shadow of the foresail, and were apparently engrossed with each other. Oliphant several times resolved to move away from Josephine, but he still remained by her. She knew the power of the spell she could exercise, and had recklessly resolved to use it. Was it not her right, by nature? Moreover, if Octavia was bent upon trifling with this man, any means were justifiable for saving him, even to winning him away from her. And Oliphant, though he did not know her motive, became conscious that she exhibited a singular interest in him. Shall we admit that the discovery excited his vanity a little? Or shall we say that he enjoyed it because it was extraneous evidence, giving him a sense of his value which made it seem less audacious for him to hope that he could gain Octavia's love?

Octavia watched them, at first with scorn for what she considered Josephine's unfairness, and then with a rankling envy of her friend's easy power: finally, the desire to bring Oliphant to her feet

whether for mere triumph, or for the

securing of a genuine happiness, she scarcely knew - began to rise to the point of fever.

The situation was broken by an announcement of lunch in the cabin, made by Raish's negro steward, Fortune.

"Isn't he a perfect specimen?" Porter asked his guests, as they assembled to go in. "You noticed the wonderful curl of his hair, I suppose. Why, it's so woolly that positively he has to put camphor in it, early in the summer, to keep the moths out!"

Porter, as usual when at table, was in the best of spirits, and soon allayed for the time being the conflict and agitation that were threatened in the minds of Octavia, Oliphant, and Josephine. Several dainty and elaborate courses were served, but the choicest dish of all consisted of broiled green plover served on plates which had been washed in champagne. "It's the only way to get the finest flavor," Raish declared; " and the only thing I know of that comes anywhere near plover served like this is the larks stewed in morning's roseate breath, or roasted by a sunbeam's splendor,' which Tom Moore once offered to the Marquis of Lansdowne."

He was so gay that one would have thought he had n't a care in the world; but as a matter of fact he had not at all enjoyed Josephine's proceedings toward Oliphant, since it was for his own interest that Perry's attachment for her should come to a prosperous issue. He was disappointed, too, at Perry's failure to join the party, and still more disturbed by the knowledge that that young speculator had not yet actually taken or paid for the Orbicular stock which he proposed to buy. But, as I say, he kept his company in capital humor. They suspected nothing; and if he had never been going to give another entertainment if he and they had all been destined to fade away into the mists and be seen no more, with the Amaranth turning to a phantom yacht

But they had no intention of fading. When they came out, with smiling lips and with the delicate tingle of wine in their veins, the mists had disappeared, and they turned to make the run homeward in a soft glow of sunshine. As they approached within a certain distance of the shore, a strange phenomenon saluted them. All at once the saltness of the air seemed to cease; the wind came from off the land, and poured around them in a breath of honey the mingled scent of flowers by thousands in the rich villa - gardens of Newport, and in the fields far away. It was an intoxicating aroma; it was like the exhalation from some enchanted territory of delights. In a minute or so, with a veering of the wind, it had passed; but Oliphant, hanging over Octavia, murmured, "This is a good omen for our return to land, is n't it?

"Yes; a much more hopeful one than the chilly mist we sailed out with."

know; yet the fact was sweet to him, and he rejoiced in it. One must "give all for love; " but the price was not too great.

He longed to put his fate to the test; but somehow there was difficulty in finding room for any action so momentous in the crowded round of social occupations. The very next day was to culminate in that brilliant musical drainage entertainment, the well-vouched-for benefit concert in aid of Dana Sweetser's movement, at which Justin was to make his public début; and during most of the interval Oliphant was busy in assisting about the final arrangements.

With the social support which had been pledged to it, the concert could not have missed being the success it was. Mrs. Farley Blazer would have done all the injury she could to the enterprise, because of Justin's participation, except for the restraint put upon her by friendly regard for Dana. This prevented her active hostility, and she compromised by sending Tilly and Lord Hawkstane, in charge of some friends, while she herself stayed at home. Mrs. Chauncey Ware, however, threw her patronage unreservedly into the scales on Dana's side; and the sibylline scrolls of

He sat down beside her, his face radiant with something more than the sunshine, and remained there until they came into port. He had made another advance; they had entered a new phase in their friendship; and to him the understanding established between them was the next thing to a mutual confession. Still, when he landed, he felt that he had left behind him, on that little voyage, the last vestige of the independence which had been his at the beginning of the season; and this independence, albeit one of loneliness and sorrow, was something the loss of which might have to be regretted. He was

tain black bonnet, from under which they projected, were seen in one row of chairs with Stillman and Vivian and Count Fitz-Stuart. The mother and brother were thus gracious in respect of Justin because they believed the coolness that obviously had interposed between him and Vivian was to be permanent; and in the fullness of their gratitude to Providence for the sacred gift of this lovers' quarrel, they were able to spare a little gentle generosity for the young musician.

I am not going to describe the concert, but from the interest which Vivian Ware took in the music it must have been passably good. Several times she

bent her head and wrote comments on the programme, with the small gold pencil which the count lent her for the purpose, and then folded up the paper, as if the brief record of her pleasure were too precious to be exposed to the outer air.

The count betrayed a lover-like curiosity to see what she had written, but with corresponding coquetry she kept putting him off, and he did not get a sight of it, the whole evening.

After the performance, Justin appeared for two or three minutes in the eddying drift of copious silks, light shoulder-wraps, and black coats, moving towards the exit. Octavia in her pansy bonnet and Oliphant in evening dress were there to welcome him with hearty praise; many bystanders regarded him with manifest admiration; and as he drew near Vivian, she was so eager to thank him for his playing, that she dropped her programme in turning to meet him. He caught it before it had reached the floor, and offered to return it to her.

"Never mind," she said. "It has some notes of my impressions. Keep it, and tell me by and by if I am right." Justin bowed, and almost instantly glided away. The count at first looked mortified that the programme should have escaped him; but the expression was followed by one of serenity, as of a man who could afford so trifling a loss, in view of what he retained; and so he went out with Vivian to join Stillman, who was busy finding the carriage.

XIII.

HAWKS AND DOVES.

The episode of the programme, however, had not escaped the notice of one or two ladies who were standing near.

They belonged to a small coterie which was in the habit of meeting every day or two at the houses of the several

acquaintances who composed it. The members of this circle gathered together for self-improvement; that is, they devoted an hour to trimming and polishing their finger-nails, by means of the latest and most approved apparatus. This species of culture induced in them a liberality which extended to the improvement of other people, so far as that could be done by defining and thoroughly discussing their demerits, in order that if those persons should improve every one would know exactly how much they had done so.

Pious Mrs. Ballard Mole was one of this group. It had been proposed by somebody to hold concerts at the Casino on Sunday evenings, and this was enough to deter Mrs. Ballard Mole from going to any musical affair in that place, however worthy the object. None the less, though, was she willing to listen to reports of what had occurred at the Sweetser entertainment; and when Miss De Peyster (Roland's ugly sister) began to say something about the strangeness of Vivian's remark to Craig, Mrs. Mole experienced a chilly joy in thinking that if any germ of scandal had effected a lodgment in that distinguished audience, it was only a righteous judgment on the projectors of chimerical Sunday concerts that had not come to pass.

"There seems to be something between those two, some understanding that is n't quite right, under the circumstances," said Miss De Peyster, opening her case of nail instruments, and inspecting them as if she had been a surgeon about to begin vivisection.

She was seated on the broad veranda, shaded by vines and canvas curtains, of Mrs. Mole's scriptural villa, called Petra, on the Cliff, where the conclave had been called for that morning.

"Then, do you consider Vivian engaged to the count?" asked Mary Deering, who was one of the worldly representatives in this little circle.

"Well, if she is n't, it's about time

she should be," Miss De Peyster answered, clicking her scissors sharply.

"Oh, do you know what I heard yesterday?" This question proceeded from a lady who wore a jaunty ruby-tinted turban, and enjoyed great intimacy with Mrs. Farley Blazer.

"No; what?" "Anything about the count?' Uttering responses of this sort, everybody became attentive, and there was a momentary pause in the wielding of their small steel weapons.

"Yes; the count. Dana Sweetser says he was walking, the other morning, over where the Cliff begins, you know,

that bare spot where it's so quiet, and he noticed three Frenchmen sitting on the grass, with a basket of breakfast and some claret; and they were talking quite loud and laughing, don't you know, so they did n't notice him. And he made out that they were creditors of the count's. They're lying in wait for him, in a sort of way; at any rate, watching him. Mr. Sweetser says he believes they even have a detective keeping his eye on Hartman's, where the count stays, you know. Is n't it odd, — a man who might have been King of England, may be, having creditors after him?"

The rest agreed that it was very odd, and that the count's speedy engagement to Vivian, with a claim on the Ware property, ought to be wished for by every one who understood the pathos of the situation.

"Besides," Mrs. Mole declared, "he's a much more desirable person than that penniless pianist."

"But Mr. Craig plays the organ in church," Mary Deering suggested, with a spice of malice, and spoiled the effect of her shot by sending off another: "The count is penniless, too, it appears."

"Temporarily, my dear," Mrs. Ballard Mole retorted, assuming a mien of devout loyalty. "Temporarily penni"Temporarily penniless; that is all. It can't last." "The creditors evidently think it VOL. LII.- NO. 314.

49

can't, or sha'n't," whispered Mary to Mrs. Richards, who was present.

Then they all began talking about other things and people. There were rumors of an approaching divorce, to be assorted; and the ladies next devoted themselves sadly to comment on various unfortunate traits in their associates, which ought to be corrected, as well as to the ins and outs of sundry quarrels that had begun to shatter the harmony of Newport society. Gradually an approach was made to the subject of Mrs. Blazer's confidential relations with Porter; though, in deference to Mrs. Blazer's friend, who was there, the approach was characterized by Christian tenderness.

"It's really a pity, you know," said Miss De Peyster to the friend, "when her husband is about, and they're not living together. I don't believe there's anything in it, you know; but so many will take that view.”

Mrs. Richards burst into uncontrollable laughter. ble laughter. "Oh, the funniest thing yet!" she ejaculated, while the jewels on her generous bosom shook with sympathetic humor. "Sarah Loyall made. a mistake yesterday, and called Mr. Porter Mr. Blazer,' in Mrs. Blazer's presBut she was equal to the occasion: she said, 'Oh, Mrs. Loyall, don't make him out to be anything so disagreeable as a husband!' Was n't that rich ?"

ence.

There was great amusement on the veranda, at this; even the ruby-turbaned friend of Mrs. Blazer joining in the merriment.

Snip, snip, went the scissors, as the ladies chattered on, and deftly labored to modify the lingering vestiges of a savage state at the termination of their soft, white fingers. The scissors were stumpy, curved and sharply pointed like the beaks of hawks; and as they continued their work they seemed at the same time to be tearing numerous reputations into fragments.

Mrs. Deering finished her task first,

and, being obliged to go, bade the rest good-morning. As soon as she had disappeared, the lady in the ruby turban saw an opportunity to equalize matters for Mrs. Farley Blazer by introducing a slight diversion at Mary's expense. "I'm afraid," she observed, last remarks were n't entirely agreeable to Mrs. Deering."

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our

The reflections which had been made upon Mary Deering were not, however, confined to the self-improving coterie whose confidences we have allowed ourselves to summarize. Oliphant had here and there come upon the traces of similar ones, which, aided by his own observation, had disturbed him excessively. He noticed the increasing im

that Roger now came on to Newport

"It really is becoming disgraceful," said the ruby turban, "the way those two are going on. It grows worse and

worse."

"Can't something be done to stop it?" queried Mrs. Mole, in a regenerating frame of mind. "I really wish

there could."

"Stop it?" Miss De Peyster shrilled. "Stop an avalanche! Why, he goes with her everywhere, driving, hunting, polo; and not satisfied with that, they take quiet walks together in the twilight. Then they are on the Cliff, Sundays. He never goes to church with her, I notice, but he spends a great deal of time at the house, and is constantly there at dinner while Mr. Deering is in New York. I should think she would have some consideration for her children's sakes, at least. What she can find in the man, either! Really and truly, I think sometimes people ought just to be exiled!"

An instant's silence intervened after this outburst; and then Mrs. Richards said sweetly, "My dear, you should n't use the steel. It's injurious, very." She referred merely to the fact that Miss De Peyster, in her preoccupied excitement, was rather fiercely prodding one of her finger-nails with the smooth end of a flat steel file.

They had now reached the powdering and polishing stage of their work, and the remarks interchanged gradually took on a more suave and dignified character.

when he did come there was a queer kind of restraint on his part towards his wife. The ruddy-faced, short-haired broker's former air of confidence was perceptibly subdued. To Oliphant the change was pathetic, and he had resolved to speak to his cousin seriously. He fancied that he understood the case. Mary Deering had simply had her head turned by the frivolities of the place, and had been led into making an idol of this Anglicized nonentity, who to her mind represented the most important local tendency. Nevertheless, the idol or fetich was a man, and she ought not to carry her admiration too far.

Obeying his advisory impulse, he betook himself to her house, on the second day after the concert; but Mary was not at home. He decided to wait; and in a moment or two, seeing the door into the dining-room half open and some one apparently seated at the table there, he moved to the threshold, half believing that it was Atlee. With a rush of sudden anger, he determined to upbraid the dandy, and so stepped forward vigorously. But, to his astonishment, he beheld only little Clarence in a chair by

the table.

The boy had a glass of claret and water before him, and was smoking a cigarette.

"What does this mean?" cried Oliphant. "Are you crazy, Clarence?"

"I'm trying to soothe my nerves," the child answered, looking up wearily at him. Oliphant was horrified at