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Come home at once.

Lucas found Jack's heart was beating so fast that dead. Will forthcoming, made by you.' his voice sounded rather choky. Jack went home by the next steamer.

66 What are you

— are you thinking of He went straight to his father's office. doing, Bell ?"

" What's the meaning of this will “ Doing?" she said quickly. “ Nothbusiness ? " asked his father sternly. ing.' “How came you to make a will for the He looked fixedly at her - so fixedly man without my knowledge ?

that she could not bear his gaze. 6. He insisted on it, sir, and on my Bell,”

," he whispered—“ Bell, look secrecy. I don't know why, but some- at me, and tell me what is in your how he seemed to mistrust you."

heart. I didn't mean to say it — I Mr. Wilbraham looked a little queer; can't bear to be the man to rob you – he recalled his interview with Mat every one will think a lie of me - but I Lucas, and the old man's sudden ap- must have it out. Look at me -tell pearance.

- could you marry a fellow who “It's a stupid sort of will,” he said hadn't the money your grandfather hastily ; “ I don't see what he meant spoke of, so that you had to give up by it. It hampers the girl.”

half of yours ? Would you be willing "Is there is there any one that

- to marry you think - that she seems likely to She turned nestling to him, and hid

her face against his heart. Oh, of course there have been “ Willing?" she cried, half sobbing, plenty buzzing about her ; but the old but in a tone of ecstasy. Why, I'd man kept a sharp lookout. I suppose marry yoú, Jack, if we had to work for he was ambitious for her. Well, you're every penny. You ought to have one executor, you know ; that parson, known I'd never have any oue else." Mr. St. John, is the other, and he's

The Lucas Almshouses at Ebrington staying with her. I was to send you are an accomplished fact, and a perthere as soon as you arrived. Miss petual eyesore to Mr. and Mrs. MatBell was very keen on that.”

thew Lucas, who cannot speak of poor 6. How is she, poor girl ?

Peter and “that crafty little lonely, very much upset ?"

madam,” as they call Mrs. Jack, with“Oh, of course,” Mr. Wilbraham out becoming abusive. Still, as they replied, with disgusting indifference, can't get any more, they accept the ten “ dreadfully upset. The old man was shillings a week which the old man's found dead in his bed. That precious scorn bequeathed them, and are son of his turned up for the funeral, sordidly thrifty that no doubt they will hoping, I suppose, there was no will, die well-to-do. and that he would step into the prop

As for little Mrs. Jack Wilbraham, erty. You should have seen his face she thinks herself the luckiest little when the will was found ! He cursed wife in all London. Prosperity, which and swore like a trooper. I had to spoils so many not born to it, has not pack him off sharp to chew the cud of spoilt her, and she thinks as fondly resentment at home.”

as ever of the poor old grandfather who Jack did not wait to hear more, but loved her. hurried off with a fast-beating heart to see Bell.

"My poor little girl," said be, when, a few minutes later, he found himself

THE GARDEN THAT I LOVE. sitting beside her on the sofa, “ I'm so sorry for you.”

“But you've come back,” she said; If it were spring perpetually, who « it won't be so cireadful now. How would trouble himself to have a garcould you let bim make that silly den ? When I say this, Veronica will ?"

smiles incredulously, for she believes

Very old

SO

From The National Review,

II.

that if the whole world were a garden I Perhaps I should be accused of exagshould still want to have a particular geration were I to describe the effect and exclusive plot of my own. It is produced on my no doubt not impartial one of Veronica's superstitions that gaze by the Anemone apennina and the she knows every winding and recess of Anemone fulgens now in full bloom in my mind. Perhaps it is one of mine the garden that I love. Professional that she does not. But, in truth, I am gardeners will tell you, in their off-hand much more inert than she imagines, way, that these will grow anywhere. and would much rather have my gar- They will not; being, notwithstanding dening done for me, provided that the their hardiness in places that are suitresult were in accordance with that able, singularly fastidious as to soil and qualche idea che ho in mente, which Ra- situation, and even sometimes unacphael said, in answer to an enquiry as countably whimsical in our uncertain to where he had found the type of his climate. The Anemone fulgens, or Madondas, was their true origin. Ve- shining windflower, is common enough ronica, who is perhaps no more ener- no doubt, where it chooses to thrive, getic by temperament than I am, but and you may see it in bloom in open who is more conscientious, likes to see and favorable springs as early as the work being done ; partly, no doubt, out month of February, while, with proper of curiosity as to the method of it, but arrangement of aspect, you can prolong still more in order that she may assure its dazzling beauty well into May. But herself it is being done properly. I the Anemone apennina, which I have like to come upon the ground and find known some people call the stork's-bill the work out of hand and complete. windfower, is, as far as my experience Rather, however, than it should be goes, rarely seen in English gardens. clone wrongly, I will impose on myself It used, an indefinite number of years any amount of trouble.

ago, to be sold in big basketsful by Spring is the most skilful of all gar- dark-eyed, dark-haired, dark-skinned deners, covering the whole ground flower-girls in the Via Condotti in with flowers, and shading off the Rome in the months of February and crudest contrasts into perfect harmony ; March, and I recollect a good Samaritan and were it April, May, and June all putting the finishing touch to my conthe year round, I, for one, would never valescence, after a visitation of Roman again put spade or seed into the ground. fever, by bringing to my room a large I should select for the site of my home posy of this exquisite flower, varying the heart of an English forest, and my in color from sky-blue to pure white, cottage should stand half-way up an and springing out of the daintiest, most umbrageous slope that overlooked a feathery foliage imaginable. Perhaps, wooded vale, from which majestic trees therefore, it is in some degree the spell and coverts again rose gradually up to of association which makes me feel the horizon. One would make just tenderly enthusiastic concerning the clearance enough to satisfy one's desire Apennine windflower. I do not say it for self-assertion against nature, and prospers in our latitudes as it does in then she should be allowed to do the the sunshinc-shadow of the Appian rest. What are all the tulips of the Way. But, in most years, it maintains Low Countries in point of beauty com- itself against rude winds, unkindly pared with the covering and carpeting leaden clouds, of the wildwood celandine? Your cultivated globc-flower and shepherd's- And Amazonian March with breast half bane are well enough ; but they have a

bare, poverty-stricken look when paragoned And sleety arrows whistling through the

air. with the opulent splendor of the marshmarigold, that would then grow along It asks for some but not too much the moist banks of the low-lying run- shelter, and I have had to lighten the nels of my natural garden.

natural heaviness of my ground, in VOL. LXXXIV. 4359

LIVING AGE.

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order to humor it, with well-pulverized | spring would garden for me, without soil and a judicious contribution of wage, for fully three months in the sand.

year. For I have not by any means But, with all my partiality for these enumerated and exhausted her redomesticated windlowers, I will not sources. She could, and should, do for pretend that they can hold a feather to me in my intra-sylvan lome far more undulating stretches of sylvan anem- than I have as yet described. Just as opes; and in April these would be as one begins to feel a little sad because numerous as the pink-and-white shells the wood-hyacinths pale, the red camof the seashore, which, in color, they piou takes a brighter hue and holds up curiously resemble, around my forest a bolder stalk, determined to see over abode. Blending with them in the the heads of the now fast-shooting most affable manner would be the wild green croziers of the bracked ; aud or dog violets, destitute of scent, but before these unfurl themselves and get making amends by their sweet sim- too high, the sleepy foxgloves sudileuly plicity for the ostensible absence of remember that it is June, and dapple fragrance. Where they rule the wood- the lush dingles with their spires of land territory, the earth is bluer than freckled bells. All flowers seem to the sky. Persons of limited experience contain a secret; I suppose because concerning nature's elastic methods they are sileut. But the foxglove has have sometimes asked me if Veronica's always seemed to me to possess more Poet is not inaccurate in giving the wild of the mystery of things than any of its windflowers precedence of the prim- sylvan compeers. Moreover, notwithroses in one or two passages of his. standing its almost gorgeous beauty, it Were they as familiar with the seasons calls no attention to itself, but loves as he, they would know that it is be- solitude, secrecy, and the shade. Of yond guessing to say when the prim- course the primroses and the bluebells

will exercise that sovereignty would be the reigning beauties of the which it never fails to assert over all natural garden. I know a wood of the wild flowers at some period or other pollarded hornbeam — we are going to of the spring. I have gathered prim- take Lamia and the Poet there a few roses in basketsful on Christmas day. weeks hence of many acres iu extent, Sometimes I have had to hunt for them where the bluebells grew not only as eveu in March. They will at times lush and serried as grass, but well on follow the footsteps of June till its very to three feet in height. The wood close ; yet in another year they will has been left untouched and untrodden vanish before May is out. In some for years, and the accumulation of rotfavored seasons they will come and go, ted leaves, conjoined with something and then come again. There “is no peculiarly favorable in the soil, has bounds,” to use a favorite phrase of produced this fairy world. But there my gardeners, to their fascinatingly the bluebells lave usurped the ground fickle behavior. It may please them to entirely, and do not permit any other accompany, and rather take the shine wild flower, even a primrose, lo cross out of, the ladysmocks. A twelve- the frontier of their territory. Theremonth later they will show a decided fore, it is not to it I would exclaim : partiality for the society of the dogviolets and it may so happen that

O ye woods, spread your branches aspace !

To they will elect to wait and enter into

your deepest recesses I fly. competition with the bluebells. Then, The wood I should want would have indeed, the glory of the heavens is to be hospitable, as many a wood in nothing to the glory of the earth. truth is, to every child of nature that Nature thus rings the changes on her loved its protection. Nor let it be forvarious vernal notes, and does the gotten that this “desirable site ” would same thing year after year, but differ- have its natural orchard as well; the ently. But, in any case, you see, wild pear, the wild cherry, and the

rose

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wild crab, lighting up the woodland one's gardeners and throw oneself on greenery with their gay and delicate the gratuitous bounty of Nature. I blossoms. Nor would eglantine and have heard people remark that the honeysuckle be wanting. On one side Italians seem to care little for flowers, I think I should have a little pasture and rarely tend their gardens with true open to the sun, and coming up to ny northern affection. But, then, are not windows to salute me with daisies, and their glowing sunshine and their spabuttercups, and the milk-sweet breath cious atmosphere heaven-sent flowers of ruminating kine.

and gardens in themselves ? and they But spring has to make way for sum- feel for these much as I feel for the mer, summer for autumn, and autumn natural capacity of the vernal season, for winter, and only one of these knows would it only last, to wean me from how to garden, and it has to do so un- lawn, and border, and flower-bed der rather liostile conditions. Summer yea, even from the garden that I love. is absolutely ignorant of the craft, " Commend me, my dear Sage - it bringing everything on with a rush, is thus Lamia is pleased at times to and then having to content itself with christen me "commend me to the woods and copses of uniform green; wise for talking folly. Your natural or and, though winter is a great gardener wild-wood garden would pall before in one sepse, since he makes untiring, the spring was out. Even the most if generally unnoticed, preparations for indolent of us like to assert ourselves future floral display, he has few flowers occasionally, and I can see the havoc to show of his own. Autumn, I grant, you would play with the free gifts of knows the art of gardening to perfec- April and the generous prodigality of tion, possessing the secret of careless May. Man is an interfering animal, grace even beyond the spring. There and, if you like, woman still more so, is an orderly negligence, a well-thought. In fact, man improves Nature, and out untidiness, about autumnal forms then woman improves man, or at any and colors no other season can match. rate compels bim to improve himself, Even to the garden proper, the culti- in order to obtain her approbation.. vated plots of man, autumn adds such There is no such thing as beauty unwonderful touches of happy accident adorned. Nature, left to herself, is au that, when it comes, really comes, a reactionist, always slipping back from wise man leaves his garden alone and worse to worse. Give me the hanging allows it to fade, and wane, and slowly, gardens of Ecbatana, and the flowers pathetically, pass away, without any that are fostered by a thousand slaves, effort to hinder or conceal the decay. A garden ! a garden! O yes, a garIudeed, it would be worth while having den! But then, it must be à Garden! a cultivated garden if only to see what the garden that you love is well autumn does with it. What she does enough ; but I cannot lose myself in it, she seems to do unintentionally, and in nor feel that supreme sense of satisfacthose almost permanent fits of absence, tion which comes of carelessly ruling a during which, I suppose, she is think- splendid kingdom. I want a garden ing of the past. But this meditative like yours, enlarged and expanded into touch of hers is more discernible in the what Shelley calls a paradise of wildercultivated garden than in the wood- nesses ; a garden where the garden is lands ; and she makes the wild-wood everything and the owner of it nothtoo moist and chill with her tears for iting.' to be the fitting accessory of a cheerful “There are many such, dear Lamia,“ home. Spring may be a less mature I answered, “in this fair and varied artist, but spring's hopeful and sunny England ; and I can show you one open-heartedness more than atones for whenever you wish to see it. But I some little lack of dexterity.

fear the owner would count for someAgain, I say, were it always April, thing, and I must ask his permission May, and June, one would discharge I before I do so."

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very least.

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“Yes, there it is ! The owner al- | poison, what I call your low tastes ways iusists

on obtruding himself, your taste for splendor, profusion, and though he may not be wanted in the the pride of life. In your case, they

Girls marry yachts, town are not to be indulged in without what houses, country houses, and shooting- you spoke of as the accessory becoming lodges. Why can one not marry a gar- the principal, and the occasional the den ?"

perpetual. The owner of a garden may “So you can," I observed," but on not care for it in the least; but you the same terms."

cannot

very well keep him out of it.” “But I do not want the same terms; Lamia is always so submissive to my nor are they necessary. The possess- sermons, that I rarely preach one. ors of the things I named set much She brought this to a close with store by their houses, yachts, four-in- the observation, “Of course you are lands, and salmon rivers. But they right,” and we passed together into the think nothing of their gardens, and orchard. take these as a matter of course, as It must not be supposed that the producing vegetables, flowers, fruit, orchard, as it now is, is the orchard I and opportunities for an occasional happed on that day when I discovered saunter. Why caunot I marry the my lifelong home. That, with the exGarden the paradise of wildernesses, ception of some five vigorous survivors, I mean

and treat all the rest, the has disappeared. For one of the burnowner included, as a matter of course, ing questions that arose when I took in as an accessory, and a mere occasional hand the making of the garden that I appendage ?"

love, and its immediate surroundings, “I will try to arrange it for you,” I was what to do, and how to deal said. “But, meanwhile, be pleased to with, the orchard. The whole world observe that, as you yourself note, the tlırough, there is no lovelier sight than owners of what you describe care next a well-pla ted, well-grown English orto nothing for their garden."

chard, whether in its full spring blosAnd, if I married one, perhaps I som or in the mellow richness of its too should not care for it.”

autumnal crop. In its one aspect it “Precisely. The moment I enter a represents, as nothing else in nature garden, I know at once whether it is does, the innocence, the irresponsible the owner's garden or the gardeners' freshness, the irresistible gaiety of garden. Nearly all large and costly simple childhood. In the other, it regardens are gardeners' gardens, and calls and reflects the grave fruitfulness for my part I would not take them as of mature and resigned wisdom. Wana gist. I don't think I ever remember dering in an orchard, either in midenvying the gardens of the great ; but May or in early October, one feels a I continually see cottage gardens, little desultory and indefinite but all-satisvillage or secluded plots, cultivated and fying sense of peace, such as I think made beautiful by the pathetic expe- one feels nowhere else. One never dients of the poor, which seem to have wants to be elsewhere, for one seems a charm mine cannot rival. Almost to have got to the heart and centre of every garden, and certainly my own, things. An orchard at once robust and sins against the law of cconomy. venerable with years has a great adThere are too many flowers; and vantage over one whose branches have effect, surprise, and suggestiveness are but a decade or two of growth; and lost. I have seen one clambering rose, the one I then found had all the majone lingering hollyhock, glorify a cot- esty of manhood, with none of the detage home, arrest one's step, and pro- crepitude of age. But, as I pointed long one's meditations, longer than out to Veronica, it completely cut off all the terraces of Chatsworth. Dear the house, and would cut off the garLamia ! cultivate simplicity and ten- den that was to be, from the park, witlı derness, and crush out, as deadliest all its wealth and world of splendid

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