"We are going to the bank now,' said Clement; and then I drove on, the two oung men going on their way, and we in he opposite direction. "Audrey, who held Madeleine's letter in er hand, unopened, was the first to speak. "What an extraordinary likeness! Did ou ever see anything like it, Lady Olive ?' "She seemed almost frightened; cerainly discomposed by it. "It is very remarkable, indeed; and it extends, as I have generally observed that strong resemblances do, to the voice as well.' "Yes, I felt that too. I seemed to near Griffith as well as to see him. Lady Olive, I don't like it at all; I feel superstitious about it.' "Nonsense, my dear! This Mr. Durant s all the more likely to be a charming nan, because he is so like your brother.' "A charming man, and Clement Kindersley's friend!' "And pray, is not, or rather was not, Griffith himself Clement Kindersley's friend? You cannot justify your prejudice on that ground. But you have not read Madeleine's note; just see what she says.' 'Audrey read the few lines, of which the note consisted, aloud. They were chiefly of comment upon the extraordinary likeness, which she also had been struck with, between her brother's friend and Griffith. Clement had introduced Mr. Durant to her at breakfast at Beech Lawn that morning, and she did not regard the resemblance with the same displeasure which it aroused in Audrey. Her little letter was cheerful, and Audrey wondered that it should be so, considering that she knew nothing yet of the light that had shone upon the future prospects of the Dingle House. It did not surprise me. I understood that, to a nature like Madeleine's, there would come deep peace in the assurance that she was beloved by the man whom she loved, and in a clear and unerring perception of the line of her duty. "I found Mr. Lester, as I expected, at the Almshouses; and, when I had transacted my business with him, I invited him to lunch at Despard Court, and gave him the back seat in the pony-carriage. It had been agreed that Audrey shou tell Mr. Lester the news until w reached home again, and she did no she looked so unmistakably signific having something to tell, that whe Lester asked, surprised, was anythin matter? I replied that Audrey had almost startled, and anything but p by the apparition of Mr. Durant. "He is so extraordinarily like G I said, and we all know that A could only consider it the height sumption for anyone to be exact Griffith.' "Oh, that's it, is it?' said Frank smiling; 'the likeness is quite the I ever saw. In fact, I slapped the st on the shoulder last night and che accosted him as Griffith," to his ment. It perfectly bewilders poor Kellett; but Miss Minnie says h so very like, if you only look at hi enough and "just think of Mr. Dwarris's dear, near-sighted eyes!" right enough, I daresay, only, I need say, after making such an absurd mis did not look at the new inmate very He and Clement are not monoto harmonious, it seems. Miss Minni knows, sees, guesses, and overhears thing, tells me, just as if she were of a young couple, that they've words already." If they go on words, I shall advise a change of res for Mrs. Kellett's nerves are as she told me this morning.' on t "He could not give us much Despard Court, so, as soon as w alone with him, we told him wh happened. I should have been disap in Frank Lester, if the informati affected him otherwise than as it di notions about it were as like Aud if their two minds had been moved spring. The results to Mr. Dwar Griffith occupied him wholly. at length, his fancy turned in the d of himself and Audrey, he amus exceedingly. "But,' he said, with a comi and tone, and apprehension, this serious, you know. What should if Mr. Dwarris were to say "No that this has come out?' "Remind him,' I answered, 'that "Yes" when only he knew all abo The Right of Translating Articles from ALL THE YEAR ROUND is reserved by the Author 3 to CHAPTER XXVIII. BATTLE ROYAL. ABOUT noon the following day Mrs. Dawson made her way with difficulty to the scene of the last night's revel, which had the air as if a general "sack" had taken place. The contents of the supperrooms seemed to have become mixed up with those of the drawing-room; there were ladders, girandoles being taken down, green baize, glass on the floor, and vans at the door. It was in this curious scene that Mrs. Dawson insisted on seeing the lady owner of the house, who was in a sort of dreamy rapture and good humour with all the world. Mrs. Dawson was in a very different vein-decided, stern, and business-like. "I have only a few words to say," she said, coming to the point, "and I must ask a decided answer. I suppose we are to understand, from what took place last night, that your son does not accept my statement of his engagement to my daughter Phobe ? * "Ah! how fortunate," crie son; "here he is, himself. hear it from his own lips." The young man was cross with a smile upon his lips, visit to his Baddeleys. Mrs. Pringle was uncomfo moment only. After all, it the matter decisively. He w repudiate in plain terms. He himself was much con mother, already showing sign for society and its devices, an others. "I am glad, Francis, that as you will be able to convinc son of her curious misappr know that you admired Miss that you may have used som that may have been construe posal; but I am sure you n plated a serious engagement i "No, no," said the young 1 "I may have said a few hast a dance, but I never intended "I see," said Mrs. Dawson, "nothing more than a sudd nothing serious intended." "Yes, that was it," he sa eagerly; "and I did not thi Dawson took it for more." "Now, you see," said the b with much satisfaction, 66 we at an agreement." "Let me read you this," sa son, taking a letter from her Pringle turned pale. He re document as being one of Phoebe, although, until he he claimed in Mrs. Dawson's unre he had no recollection of havi himself to such compromising Mrs. Pringle darted an angry look at her son; then her whole manner changed. She became defiant, burning her ships at once. "It is no matter," she said; "the whole thing is unsuited, and can't be! We reject it altogether. There's an end of it." Mrs. Dawson made a great effort to be calm. "It is not to be so easily disposed of," she said. "Do you," she added, turning to young Pringle, reject your solemn engagement in this way? Recollect, you will kill Phoebe-break her heart! "What am I to do?" he said. "It was very hasty, and—we did not know our own minds "Phoebe knew hers. I merely wish for a simple answer-'yes' or 'no. Do you refuse to carry out your engagement ? "There is no engagement. The proof is, that at this moment he is engaged to be married to another person." Mrs. Dawson recoiled under this fresh blow. She was being beaten all along the line. She knew not what to do; how to save her poor, luckless Phoebe. Yet the first thought was the discredit, the mortification of being thrown over in this coarse, cruel, and unceremonious way. At once all her restraint gave way. "Very well," she said; "now I understand at last. But don't imagine that this disgraceful business shall stop here. You shall be exposed, depend upon it. Every one of you!" "Oh, now, please!" said Mrs. Pringle. "Such threats! Pray don't; not here, at least." "You little know whom you have to deal with," went on Mrs. Dawson, "Because you have got money you think you can treat us in this fashion; but take care. And as for you, sir, only that my poor child would suffer, and has given her heart, I would think it the greatest misfortune to give her to you. Her heart will break under this; but that I suppose you will think a fresh triumph. You are a poor, unmanly fellow." The young man coloured. He did feel some pangs of self-reproach as he thought of the poor child he had deserted. better leave it to Messrs. Coope family solicitors. They will arra all; but you must see that--real cannot And she smiled off the subject a visitor without another word. Dawson withdrew, and went hom state almost approaching to despair wistful face of Phoebe met her, looking for good news. Still, the could not find it in her heart to the worst. She forced her face encouraging expression, and told E all was going on very well; th family were, of course, rather ag for the present, but that in a sho &c. "But he was he coming? Phoebe. "She was not to be in a her mother said; and then went u room to take off her "things," reality, to think. What on earth were they to do felt at the end of her resources. too plain that nothing could b How was a wealthy, influential fa be compelled to do justice by feeble widow and her daughter? was Tom, indeed. But what could a wild, flighty fellow-do? They only laugh at him. Still, such as Tom was, it was that he should know how thing So, getting into a cab, she drove o various haunts-to this queer clu was open all night, to those strange the-way lodgings where he was to occasionally. No one knew where until at last she recollected a where he stopped now and th where she was told he was at that time at Monaco, shooting pigeo would not be back for a fortnight weeks. She wrote to him, but it certain whether the letter would e him; and, if it did, Tom had a fa leaving his family letters unopene Those three weeks were slow and ones for the widow and her d In the Court Journal or Morning to be read the announcement of riage "in high life" which h arranged between Mr. Francis only son of Samuel Turner Pring of Joliffe Court, Hants, and Lady Croope, second daughter of the Baddeley. This with infinite was kept out of the way of Pho was a diligent reader of these chronicles. A fortnight later, the house which the noble family were still in town at their mansion in Berkeley-square. It was not improbable, perhaps, the affair had “ gone off" on the money question; which was not unlikely, for the Baddeleys were known to be greedy of cash. Things were brightening, and matters looked still brighter, when, at last, one evening, Tom presented himself. He looked eagerly at Phoebe, on whom anxiety had told severely, but, as was agreed on, made no allusion to the matter in question. He was very amusing with his account of his adventures, showed with triumph a prize of one hundred and fifty pounds, which he had won by his shooting, as well as an "object of art," which he declared he would sell for any reasonable sum. What had he to do with objects of art, or still more, they with him? Fifty pounds he generously put into Phoebe's hand, and, to his mother's amazement and anger, said: It will come in nicely for the wedding, Phib." Phib coloured, and, drawing a deep sigh, put it back. Mrs. Dawson frowned, and telegraphed to him. "I say it will come in nicely for the wedding-dress. You had better take it, for I won't have a halfpenny of it by the morning." And not sorry to make a pretence of yielding to this artful argument, Mrs. Dawson put out her hand and took charge of the cash. help you? Mrs. Dawson almost gave a her chair. "I see it now," she said. " it. Afraid of any annoyan it over quietly-and out of That cat of a Mrs. Pringle-j "So the blackguard's goi over Phib. I see it now, whose ideas moved rather sl surely. "I think it's all for "All for the best! Is that take it ?" "Yes. Would you have h mean cur of that kind, who make her wretched ?" "Well, after that!" said b genuine astonishment. "I r you had spirit." "Oh, fudge, mother," said son. "Where's Phib herself? the man, of course that's an It's her own look out, you kn "Of course she does. D her looks? Why the poor li quite changed within these fe Again the idea had come sl "The rascal! the cur! H Where is he? Why, I'll dr and make him beg pardon o I took his measure the first d his shirking, even then. But my eye on him-he-well, he like it. Come, let me only ge "Now, Tom. I beg, do tal But the mother's heart "Didn't the delighted. Even if nothing o would be a real satisfaction if deal with him as the wretch he was but made contemptibl of his new and noble bride. When they were alone she said: "I am astonished at you, Tom!" Why!" he answered. fellow engage himself ? " 66 Yes, of course; but-" "Play or pay, and no mistake ?” "Very well, then, it must come off. And there's an end of it. I'll see about it tomorrow." "Now, now, I entreat of you, Tom, none of your wild, harum-scarum doings. It will be no use, you know——” Tom said again, very confidently, "Leave it to me," and so departed. On the next evening he was with her again, to report. "I hardly understand what it means," he said, "but you will. I had it all from Tom went his way, and r night about eight o'clock. H hansom, with his portmanteau the top, and all his rugs, &c., required a plentiful supply. "No go," he said. "My lad do you say to this-they say t ding's actually fixed at the Er the whole Pringle family starte bag and baggage." "Well?" said his mother a "Well, of course, I'm off to you bet that no wedding tal the Embassy, or elsewhere Come, for the luck of the thin "Fiver be it," said Tom. "Not a word Phib, mind. Hush! here she is. Just f, Phib, to the Grand National; will be ck in a day or two; keep up, my pet, all ill go well yet!" And Tom leaped into his cab and clatred away to the station. CHAPTER XXIX. IN PARIS. WE must now take a glimpse at the addeley family, as they are engaged with I their preparations for the coming event. stead of the jubilee and excitement hich reigned in the Pringle household, ere was here uncertainty, with some dispointment, greed, and a host of minor ssions. Lady Baddeley was a woman I the world, as it is indulgently called; at is to say, in all that regarded the dvancing of her family, about as uncrupulous as a bookmaker on the turf. he only accepted the morality laid down y the code of fashion, just as the latter ccepts the rules of the betting-ring, rough the wholesome fear that, if he ansgress them, he will not be allowed pursue his calling. All her life, therefore, he had been looking out for husbands r her daughters, much as she looked out r a house when she came to town for the ason. As for those views which more ulgar persons sometimes seek in marages, such as "a suitable partner,' compatibility of tastes and tempers," such nguage, it might be said with perfect uth, was Hebrew to her." 66 "What was the man talking about?" he was once heard to remark after a shionable canon, who was in the habit preaching at court, had made a remark the kind, during a visit. "Isn't the ung man Lord Bangington's eldest son? urely nothing could be more suitable or mpatible, as he calls it!" being between-a sober, serious man, who had an admiration for the wart proportions of the Lady Flor and this promising and desirable g man Lady Baddeley had nearly sec It was during this negotiation tha lady was betrayed into the most unfort false step of her life. Some frien told the young man that the object attachment had been already engag another person. The incident had, in occurred to her several times; bu news caused the lover a shock, as h of a sensitive turn. Lady Baddeley an excessively candid manner, whic knew how to assume with all young laughed off the notion, and declared there was not a word of truth in declaration which he repeated t phantly to Lord Garterley. The from a sort of fancy, took the trou investigate the matter, discovered falsehood, peremptorily interposed forbade the banns. The affair was about, and was excessively damagi the family, who went abroad for a time, to return in a couple of years, the affair had "blown over." Every blows over within that period. Still, with the sanguineness that ha chastened by frequent defeat, the f had still clung to the hope of securin prize, particularly as the young ma remained single. When the Pringle al was projected, it was firmly believed one of its effects would be to stimula lagging affections of the young man it was prosecuted with a publicity and that it was hoped would reach him result, however, followed, owing rea Lord Garterley, who took a pleasu exposing these subterfuges. It was conveyed to the lover that "d Florence" was suffering cruelly, and her inclinations were being in a m "forced," and her heart was still f turned back to its old love. This was of no avail; and, in sheer desper the family had to set out for Paris clinging to the hope that, even at five minutes past the eleventh hour time at which matters now had reach something would turn up. Always insatiable then, and eager to ek something better, the woman of the orld had entertained admirers, as they ight by courtesy be called, for the more romising of her daughters. She was, deed, remarkably clever, though she anted genius-the genius that knows Tom had a pleasant journey, h w to give the finishing stroke: alas! found some good fellows 1 that is so often wanted to complete the lers, with whom he smoked, and d ork. It was curious that there should and betted all the night. He pu Ive been a relation of Lord Garterley's8- at one of the monster hotels, we e actual heir to the title, though at some bed, had his breakfast, met frien moves, two elderly and sonless brothers the courtyard of the great hotel, as co-t |