"Marry my daughter!" cried Mr. Falconer, quickly exploding, while Sir Percival continued to stare at the guilty couple in a perplexed helplessness. "I am astonished at your audacity," foamed the angry father. "You have proved yourself a mean, designing

scoundrel."

"Perhaps you had better hear us before you proceed," said Russell, his calm voice in singular contrast with the violence of the other's

tones.

"Hear you! No, sir! No; the presumption of a person occupying your position

"Position! I should not have thought that you could take any exception to my family," cried Russell, proudly, his tones growing a little warmer; while, as regards Edith, the pallor which had crept over her face at the first exhibition of her father's wrath was giving way to a crimson flame of indignation at the insulting epithets piled upon her lover.

"You had better go, George," said Edith, with proud, quivering lips, holding out her hand and giving Russell a glance at once pitiful and tender.

"And as to you, madam, the sooner you come to your senses the better," cried the irate sire, howling his last words at the closing door. As soon as the recreant pair had quite disappeared Mr. Falconer tried to cool himself down, but it was a hard task. To be baulked in this way, just as he had been making sure of the grand object of his life, a high and wealthy marriage for Edith, and the consequent aggrandisement of himself, was an over-grievous disappointment.

"I hope," he began, pulling down his waistcoat and endeavouring to look at his ease; "I hope, Sir Percival, that you will not think too much of this little scene. My daughter is a foolish young thing, and this is but some little piece of perverseness that she will quickly get over. I assure you she had the warmest liking for you."

"Not at all. I'll tell you what it is; it's my belief that we've both been done," said Sir Percival, with slow and portentous solemnity. "Nonsense, nonsense; I never saw Edith show so marked a preference for anyone as she did for you, until this mean fellow came like a snake in the grass wriggling himself into her favour."

But Sir Percival Hunt was unappeased. "I've been made a cat'spaw of, if that's what you mean; I see it all now, a regular cat's-paw," said he, still with a weighty solemnity of manner, notwithstanding that his language was undignified.

"My dear Sir Percival, I assure you you are quite mistaken. This is but some little passing whim. Is it likely that my daughter would prefer a man in his position, a beggarly tutor, to yourself?"

The youthful baronet stared aghast. "What do you mean, Mr. Falconer? I wish I were half as well off as Russell! He's as rich as Croesus, and an earldom in perspective."

It was the elder man's turn to stare now.

Wakening up, he leaned

forward eagerly in his chair. "What are you saying, Sir Percival? Pray explain. I thought Mr. Russell"-and already Mr. Falconer's voice took a more respectful tone in enunciating the name-" Mr. Russell had been your tutor."

"So he was once, something of the sort, and we have been travelling together lately; but Russell is a gentleman, although his prospects were black enough until last autumn, when three people who were in the succession to the Heathfield estate were lost on one of the Cumberland lakes; sudden squall, and all that, you know. Some people have such luck," wound up the young man in a meditative fashion, leaving it an open question whether it were the drowned men or his friend whom he was congratulating.

"Dear me ! dear me ! Wonderful, wonderful! Such changes and chances are there in this world. Well, Sir Percival! I shall be very sorry if it turns out that I am not to have you as a member of my family," said Mr. Falconer, rising from his seat in a great hurry to consult Debrett and other sources of inquiry respecting the Russell family.

The result of these inquiries was so satisfactory that Mr. Falconer hastened to offer an apology to Russell. This would have been to many men a task of difficulty and delicacy, but it was one that by no means appalled Mr. Falconer. He considered with himself first whether it were not possible to explain away his angry outburst, but even he could see no way of doing this; therefore he determined upon this single occasion to use a graceful candour, and to throw himself upon the generosity of the young man.

But Russell proved as indifferent to the apology as he had been to the occasion of it. Convinced of the disinterestedness and truth of Edith's love, he cared for nothing further; therefore he readily returned some careless reply of acquiescence that contented Mr. Falconer, and henceforward his engagement with Edith was an acknowledged fact.

"I'll tell you what it is, Russell," said Sir Percival Hunt, the next morning, as he continued to dash sundry possessions of his into an already over-full portmanteau, "you have served me a shabby trick." "Not at all; you were always assuring me of your success. you remember the day you cried Veni, vidi, vici?

Do

"And now I suppose I may cry Victus sum. Well! I don't feel cast down to the uttermost depths of despair: I am not sure that the fair Edith would altogether have suited me."

"I am of the same opinion. I don't think she would altogether have suited you," said Russell, with an emphasis that gave the words a new meaning.

SCHOOL BOYS.

FIVE merry boys, right earnest boys, played round the school-yard tree And each one boasted, in his turn, what a great man he'd be.

A proud dark youth, of stalwart growth, with crisp and raven hair,
Said he would live upon the sea, where all his kinsmen were.

He loved to hear the angry deep lash the sharp rocks and roar,
He loved to see the waters sleep, when the great storm was o'er.
"Ha, ha!" rang out a haughty laugh, "what care I for the sea?
It is a wild and heedless life, a statesman I shall be:

"I mean to make the world wake up, you'll see I'll plot and plan,
I know there's something to be done, worthy a mighty man!"

"Well, give me gold and merchandise," a fair-haired urchin said, With fingers clenched, and eager eyes strained on the Western red; "I'll strive and toil while others dream a lazy life away:

You'll see, my boys, what wealth can do, to buy and build some day.' "I'll be a poet,” said a boy, with meek and quiet tone;

"I'll write and sing creation's praise, and always live alone:

"I don't care for the busy world, it has no soul, no heart; And in its paltry joys or woes you're called to bear a part."

"No heart, no soul!" a lad exclaimed: "well now, to speak my mind, There's nought but self in any man who cares not for his kind.

"You may go forth upon the sea, and like a wild bird roam:
Before I make for foreign lands, I'll learn to look at home.

"Beware oppression's iron heel, if you're for statesman's fame,
And don't let might usurp o'er right, but keep an honest name.
"You may
all plot, and strive, and toil, with many a mighty plan;
But he's the best and noblest here who helps his fellow man.

"In God's right hand there is a cup of rich and ruby wine;
He poureth out, and best can tell if 'twill be yours or mine.

"So never brag-promotion comes nor South, nor East, nor West; Let's work in wisdom's narrow path, and trust God for the rest.”