I

"Poor Frank!" said the Captain to himself, "how glad I shall be to see him again! I wish I could do so nething for him. wonder if he wants anything I could get for him?" Aul then the Captain took up Mr. Gregory's card, and looked at it very suspiciously, as though he imagined it might be capable of convey. ing some contagious or infectious disease. "So Mr. Gregory has found me out, has he? I know what he wants, six mouths on the treadmill. If the blackguard calls again shall I see him? I suppose I had better; he evidently is determined to see me for some reason or another, and I may just as well have it out with him on my own premises. Hullo! there's a knock at the door; surely he can't be looking me up already? come in. Oh, Frank Lumsden, is it? show him in. How are you, my dearest boy?" continued the Captain as the visitor entered. "Take a chair and have some breakfast. Now tell me all your news since I have been away."

"News enough if I had time to tell it, my dear sir; but I am afraid I have not. The fact is, I am stopping in London, and am off again this evening to Southampton to embark for India."

"What is taking you to India, in Heaven's name?" asked the astonished Captain.

"Don't you know that I am on the medical staff now? I wrote to you at Berlin. I thought it odd you never answered my letter."

"Never got it. Come and pass the day with me, Frank. I will go about anywhere with you; and by Jove, I'll go to Southampton, too. Have you got everything? Rifles, pistols, saddles, you know. I've got lots I don't want, and you must let me

supply you."

Thanks, Captain Draper; but you have only heard half of my news; my wife is with me, stopping at the Charing Cross Hotel.”

"Your wife? You don't mean to tell me you have married, you young dog! Is she going out to India? Who was she?

No, she is to stay with her father at present."

"Where does her father live, Frank?"

"He lives in Kent. When you have finished breakfast you must come with me and be introduced."

Intense was the astonishment of Captain Draper as he recognised in Mrs. Frank Lumsden the Anne Mowbray of Harmer Street. Frank and his wife laughed at his amazement. "I thought I should astonish you," said the young husband. "Anne has heard your name pretty often from me, and she remembers your visit to her father."

“Ah, yes, to be sure, about that young fellow," and then he

stopped himself-that young fellow was an unpleasant person to recall just now. Of course, he had been the former lover of Anne Mowbray, and had jilted her! Captain Draper could not help contrasting the pale and melancholy girl he had seen in Harmer Street, and the happy-looking bride. "Poor devil!" he thought, "Frank never heard of young Gregory, I'll make a bet-they are all alike, all these women-fair and false-and to think that my poor Frank has been so completely taken in!" However, there was no help for it, and the Captain did his best to appear delighted. He proposed forming one of the party down to Southampton, and volunteered to see Anne home again. In the meantime business had to be attended to, and Frank and the Captain parted, after arranging to meet at the Waterloo Station at seven in the evening. "I don't know," said the Captain to himself, after he had got back to Jermyn Street, "that I was ever so thoroughly vexed in my life, to think of Frank Lumsden throwing himself away by marrying a girl who had been jiited by a young scoundrel like Gregory! Well, what's the matter now?" cried the Captain, testily, as the servant opened the door of the sitting-reom.

"A young man wants to see you, sir; he says his name is Gregory."

"Oh, certainly," he replied, "just the day for him; perhaps he would like to join the party to Southampton. Show him in."

Mr. Gregory entered and made a polite bow. He had not improved in appearance since the Captain had seen him at Greylings. He was as handsome as ever; but he looked thin and poor, his clothes were almost threadbare, his hat without any nap, his gloves had holes in them. His manner, however, was by no means dejected, and he looked at Captain Draper with a mingled air of curiosity and amusement.

"Surprised to see me, are you not, Captain?" said Mr. Gregory; "you remember I said Au revoir' down at Greylings. May I sit down ?"

"Oh, certainly, if you have anything to say."

"I flatter myself I have something to say, and something to sell, and something to learn."

"What do you want to learn from me?"

"I want to find out why you deserted Alice Chalmers, Captain Draper, and also why you took the troubie to marry her when you had another wife alive?"

"You infernal scoundrel!" cried the astonished veteran.

"Thank, you! I thought probably you would say that. You ought to be a judge of such matters. There, don't take the trouble to ring the bell-I am off; only I may as well tell you, before I go, that chance has put in my hands the marriage certifi,

cate of Alice Chalmers with Horace Draper in the province of Auckland, New Zealand, &c.; and, I should like to add, that there is a party of the name of Chalmers, and a precious good fellow, too, who does not call me a scoundrel, and who is ready to purchase this little document for fifty pounds. It certainly did strike me that you might be willing to give one hundred; but as I have made a mistake I will wish you good morning."

Captain Draper looked the very image of despair as Mr. Gregory finished. His hands clutched nervously the elbows of his easy chair, and he tried in vain to control his excitement.

I've not

Stop!" he gasped forth. "Please wait a moment. been very well lately, and my memory is not quite so good as it was; but I think I do recollect something about that New Zealand business."

'I can call again some day, perhaps, Captain?"

'No, don't go. I should like to clear up this extraordinary mistake at once."

"I don't think I can stop, Captain Draper. It's about my luncheon time."

"Oh, never mind. I will order up some wine and biscuits, and we can talk this matter over comfortably. There, just seat yourself and try that sherry." Mr. Gregory made himself perfectly at home, and the Captain began his promised explanation. "The fact of the matter is," said he, "that a relation of mine was in New Zealand, and I did certainly hear that he carried on a desperate flirtation with a lady of the name of Chalmers. Jane, I think, was her Christian name, if I recollect rightly?" said the Captain, with a cautious look at Mr. Gregory.

"No, it was not Jane, Captain, the other Horace Draper would recollect better than that-I said, Alice."

"So you did! Well, my relative never told me he was married, and, really if he had been, I don't think it can signify much now; for my poor dear relation died ever so long ago. No marriage in Heaven, you know, my dear Mr. Gregory."

No, I suppose not, Captain; but perhaps he isn't there," replied the young man, as he helped himself to another glass of wine.

"Don't mistake me, Mr. Gregory. I don't say that I may not consider it worth while to give something for that certificate, out of respect to my relative's memory-of course, I should like to see the paper first."

"Would you know the departed gentleman's handwriting Captain?"

"Oh, yes, very well. I don't pretend to recognise Miss Chamler's, as I never saw her."

"Of course not: I understand perfectly. A temporary attack of ophthalmia-its often followed by loss of memory," observed Mr. Gregory. "Look here, Captain Draper, you shall see the certificate-only, if you will excuse me, I shall keep it in my own hands," and he took a faded bit of paper from his pocket and held it up before the Captain's face. He gave me one long look and then turned away-in spite of himself he could not restrain a groan. "Don't mind me, Captain Draper," said Mr. Gregory, "have your cry out. I daresay you are sorry for your departed relation."

"Is Alice Chalmers living?" asked the Captain, after a pause. "Excuse me: I did not come to answer questions. This is her marriage certificate, and that is all I have to say."

"Who is this Mr. Chalmers who wants to purchase it?"

"No one you know, Captain-he is a German. I told you I would answer no questions. Will you give me one hundred pounds for that certificate ?"

"Will you take fifty? Your relative, you see, did not want money. This is his port and sherry you are drinking now, and it never cost less than seven shillings a bottle. a bottle. Will you take a cheque ?"

"Yes; I don't mind doing that." The Captain sat down and wrote it, and Mr. Gregory gave him the certificate. "I will say good-bye, now, Captain Draper. I don't think you will see me again, if the cheque is all right." He was leaving the room when when the Captain stopped him. "Look here!" he said, suddenly, as he led him to the window and pointed to a lady and gentleman who were passing on the other side of the street: "have you ever seen that lady before?" When Mr. Gregory turned his face to the Captain, he was as white as a ghost.

"Do I know her," he stammered. "Yes, I do!"

"Will you promise to keep away from her?"

"Why? I always keep away. Why now more than any other time?"

"Because she is married.

"Married! Anne married? That's worth another hundred pounds to me. I think I may look her up safely now," and Mr. Gregory hurried from the room before the discomfited Captain could say another word.

WINDYBANKS.

LET them talk as they will of forgetting,
I can never forget what is past;
While the sorrow my bosom is fretting,
While the cloud on my spirit is cast.

It seems but of yesterday's sadness,

That we wandered by Windybanks' Mere; That we plucked of the blossoms of gladness, And trampled the nightshade of fear.

One hand was entwining my tresses,
With the daisies that grew at our feet;
One hand was returning caresses,

With embraces more ardent and sweet.

Before us the morn was arraying,
A promise that dazzled us yet;
Behind us the night was decaying,
With nothing of grief and regret.

Ob, the breath of the Past, when it closes,
Is the scent of a garland that's dead;
But the Future a garden of roses,

That tremble and glow to the tread.

Then the heavens above us were glory,
Each brook was a magical stream;
All the world seemed a beautiful story,
With the splendour and spell of a dream.

How we laughed at the fancy of sorrow,

As we coloured the earth with our hopes! How we vowed that the joy of the morrow, Would lead us to sunnier slopes !

What cared we for testing the vision
With the critical touch of the sage !
We feared not the breath of derision-
We knew not the wisdom of age.