THE SAINT PAULS 70463- MAGAZINE VOL. XIII.-JULY TO DECEMBER, 1873 HENRY S. KING & CO., 12, PATERNOSTER ROW, AND 65, CORNHILL 1873 1! Art in the Higher Alps. By M. C. O'Connor Morris Brothers and Lovers. By John Adam. Eight Chapters Cynic, Memoirs of a. By the Author of "Contrasts." Twelve Chapters 67, 195, 287, 390, 535, 639 Daughters of Eve, The, and the Poet of "Paradise Lost." By an Irre- concilable Death of Almachild, The. By B. Montgomerie Ranking Diane de Lys" at the Princess's Theatre. By Matthew Browne 211 Englishman, Wanted an. By an Irreconcilable Evening Longings. By Björnstjerne Björnson 655 Finding the Way at Sea. By Richard A. Proctor, B. A., F. R.A.S. Herbert, George, as a Lover of Nature. A Letter to the Editor Joint-Education of Women and Men, A Lady Orator on the. By A. Love's Quest. . 309 148 Mill's, Mr., Autobiography, and Mr. Fitzjames Stephen on Liberty," &c., 35 88 Paul Templar: a Prose Idyll. By Edward Jenkins Pic-nic in London, A. By Moorfields Daisy Bros. Ramshackle, On being. By Timon Fieldmouse Short Vacation, A. By Austin Dobson Tennyson, Mr., as a Botanist. By J. Hutchison Weather and the Sun, The. By R. A. Proctor . "Conspirators may sup as well as Emperors, DRURY LANE had not seen so great a sensation since it last was burnt down, as the appearance of two gentlemen in the box of the mysterious lady known as Lily Page. A dramatic critic who happened to have a stall, rushed out, chartered a hansom, and sought his editor in Fleet Street. That illustrious journalist, though just giving directions as to a leader to be written on the imminent probability of a European war, thought this matter so much more weighty, that he drove off to the theatre at once. There was the heroine of the hour, attended by two cavaliers: and Mr. Thornleigh, accustomed to interviews with ministerial people, recognized Conyers at once. But who was the other? Mr. Thornleigh was sure he had seen him somewhere. Mr. Carington's, as we know, was not public but social distinction; he was not a man to be seen at the House, or at race-courses, or even at fashionable parties on a vast scale; those who got him to their smallest and choicest gatherings, deemed themselves fortunate. The editor went into the saloon to see if any lounger could yield him information, and was lucky enough to meet an old acquaintance, an attaché detached, a novelist, spiritualist, journalist, and a dozen other things of ist-ending, a man as brilliant as a meteor, and as mad as a March hare. Him accosting, the secret was out at once. "That's Carington," says Roderick Deseret. "The Carington?" "The same. I suppose the girl's his mistress. He has only just come back to London, I hear, which would account for her going about alone. Isn't she handsome?" VOL. XIII. B |