have,' returned Mr. Eliot Foster in his should he learn from me the particulars I dryest business manner, and without the had undertaken to conceal, and of which no vehemence with which he had previously record is in existence. He then favoured spoken. 'I do not think well of this young me with a specimen of his manners and temman, Mr. Gaynor; I did not think well per which fully confirmed the opinion I had of him on that occasion to which you formed of him, and the expectations I should refer, and I think worse of him now. I have formed, if I had thought about the saw him somewhat more than a year ago, matter, of what he would turn out after his when he presented himself here, and be- association with the vagabond foreign-artist haved after a fashion which more than jus- class. A young man more utterly devoid tified the opinion I had formed of him." of conscience, religion, feeling, or principle, to judge by the way he talked in this room,

'I am sorry to hear it,' said Hugh sadly, but remembering at the same time the hard-I never came, across- you may have, in ship of Henry Hurst's position, and the sense of injury which he entertained respecting Mr. Eliot Foster's conduct to him; I am very sorry to hear it, not only because he was a friendless youth, and one who needed guidance, but because I am quite convinced the only chance of hearing anything of Alice is by his means.'

'It is unfortunate indeed,' said Mr. Eliot Foster. If, when Henry Hurst came here, I had known that Alice had left Coventry, I might have found out from him where she was, and offered her a home here with me. I hate to have people in half-and-half positions about me; but Alice might have come here, and been taken care of by my old housekeeper. I suppose the world could not have said anything, or that it would not have mattered much if it had. However, it is no use to think or talk about that now, and it is vain to regret it. I suppose she had got into whatever scrape she is in, before then, and would not, like the rest of them, have consented to be saved from it.'

About a year ago, you say, you saw him?' asked Hugh Gaynor, who had listened impatiently while Mr. Eliot Foster was speaking, being eager to put this ques

tion.

About that, I think, a little more, perhaps. I will give you a brief sketch of what took place, Mr. Gaynor, and then you will see plainly that I have no chance of being able to put you in communication with Henry Hurst. He came here to receive from me the small sum belonging to him, which at that time remained in my hands, and to ask me again for certain information which I had previously declined to give him, and which it was my duty. a portion of the trust I had undertaken as regards him- to withhold from him and from everyone.'

Mr. Eliot Foster uttered the concluding words with some emphasis, as if suspicious of curiosity on Hugh Gaynor's part, and desirous of showing him that it was not to be gratified. He continued:

'I told him then, as I had told him before, that neither at that nor at any other time 436

LIVING AGE. VOL. XI.

your line of business, Mr. Gaynor, but I have not. It is a fortunate thing, I think, that he has no relatives to his knowledge to injure and be revenged on, or he certainly would not want the will; he is, or was then, full of revenge towards me, if he only could have got a chance of wreaking it; and I believe he was exasperated almost to madness by his consciousness that he could not harm me. I refrained from laughing at him from pity. I could have laughed, however, to hear him grandly denouncing fate and me, and declaring that from that hour he was going to carve his unaided way to fortune and fame.'

'Poor boy, poor boy!' said Hugh Gaynor compassionately. 'We must allow that fate had been hard upon him; and though, in acting as you did, you kept your duty in view, it was not easy for him to see and submit to that fact. I hope we shall hear good things of him some day,'

Mr. Eliot Foster looked at Mr. Gaynor with a transient gleam of contempt in his face; he regarded these sentiments, after the account he had just given his visitor of Henry Hurst's character, as rather too professional for the occasion, and he was not altogether sorry to reply: If he carries out one of his purposes, which he announced as if I were to feel it as a personal misfortune, you and I will hardly enjoy that Christian gratification. He told me he should cast off the name he had hitherto borne, because I had weakly admitted that it was not his real name, but one of my selection, and so shield himself from the degradation of recognition in the future by me, or anyone, as a bastard and a foundling. He does not happen to be either, by the way.'

This admission was a singular lapse from caution, and Mr. Eliot Foster seemed to feel it so, for his wrinkled face reddened a little, and he glanced uncomfortably at his guest, who did not heed the slip he had made. Hugh Gaynor said, slowly and sorrowfully,

'This is indeed narrowing my chance of finding out whether he knows anything of

slightly.'

She is a beautiful woman now,' said Hugh Gaynor. 'I also knew her some years ago;' and then he took his leave.

Alice. No doubt he has changed his name; man some years ago, when I knew her such a proceeding would pass unnoticed among his French associates, one English name being much the same to them as another. I shall have trouble to trace him, I fear. Have you any notion whether he was going back to France when you last saw lim ? 1

'No distinct idea; he did not condescend to tell me anything concerning himself: and, to tell you the truth, Mr. Gaynor, I did not care to ask; his outrageous temper, his conduct altogether, disgusted me. I was glad to wash my hands of him and his affairs.'

I suppose this is the average conscience of an honourable man of business and a shrewd man of the world,' thought Hugh Gaynor, and I have no right to judge its sensitiveness and candour. Still, I should not like to be the owner of it.'

After some further general conversation Hugh Gaynor rose to terminate his visit, and then recurred briefly to its object.

Mr. Eliot Foster sat down, with his cat upon his knee, and with a contemplative aspect. His inseparable companion purred unnoticed, and poked his black nose into his master's waistcoat without eliciting any response.

He knew her some years ago?' Mr. Eliot Foster muttered; I wonder how many. It's an odd coincidence altogether; but he does not look as if he knew or suspected anything. I suppose it's all safe.'

Mrs. Haviland and Madeleine were not in the drawing-room when Hugh Gaynor entered it before dinner on the day of his visit to Mr. Eliot Foster. The only occupant of the apartment was a young gentleman whom Hugh's noiseless step did not immediately disturb from that de'I am afraid,' he said, from what you lightful employment in which the great masay, it is vain to hope that we shall learn jority of mankind find an unfailing resource anything of Alice, until, if she be still liv-against the dreariness of solitude,— looking, she breaks the silence herself. I am going abroad for some months. On my way home I shall do my best to find out Henry Hurst in Paris. In the mean time, if you should hear anything—it is possible, though unlikely will you let me know what you do hear?'

Certainly,' replied Mr. Eliot Foster, in that very improbable case I will communicate with you at once.' He took out a note-book as he spoke, and in his old methodical way waited, with the tip of his pencil at his lips, for Hugh's address.

ing at himself in a chimney-glass. It would appear that some persons resort to this occupation as a wholesome mortification,— only thus can such disinterested self-reminding of their personal defects be accounted for,- and some, in absence of mind. But neither explanation was at hand to excuse Verner Bingham, who was decidedly handsome, and who was looking at himself with lively and critical interest, denoting a clear knowledge of what he was about. As Hugh came up the long room his figure was reflected in the glass, and Verner turned round with a start, and very red in the face. Hugh could not but smile at the embarrassment of the young man; but the smile was very good-natured, and he addressed some trifling remark to the embryo diplomatist which restored his composure, and then Verner's good manners came to his aid, and the two gentlemen were already quite friendly when Stephen Haviland appeared, and made them forMay I ask if you are staying at Berkeley-mally known to each other. With the square just now?' he said, as he put up his pencil, and shut his natty note-book with a snap. He held it between his fingers and looked curiously at Hugh for his answer, which that gentleman made with some slight confusion, caused by the remembrance of what Stephen had said to him.

I had better give you an address in town, I think,' said Hugh; they might not send on a letter promptly from the Rectory. Yes, that will be best: write to me, care of Stephen Haviland, Esq., M.P., 112 Berkeley-square.'

Mr. Eliot Foster wrote down the address very slowly, and a curious expression, not quite a smile, quivered about his lips as he did so.

6

gushing and voluble confidence peculiar to a young lady in love (from all such, family affairs should be sedulously concealed until the adored one is made 'safe' by matrimony), Madeleine had told Verner all she knew about Mr. Gaynor, and even suggested sagely that they might take him into their confidence, and consult him concerning that vexatious and aggravating difficulty, their Ah! Mrs. Haviland was a beautiful wo-odious youth,' and that dreaded obstacle,

Yes; I am staying there for a few days before I go to Switzerland.'

the overwhelming nobility of Lord and Lady phen the impression he was under that MadBredisholme. When Verner found himself eleine was engaged to Verner Bingham. detected in the act of studying his face, and He had said he presumed Madeleine's marmore especially his whiskers-prodigious riage would not take place until she was a for his agein the glass, he felt that this good deal older. There was a little awknotion must be abandoned. Mr. Gaynor wardness about Hugh Gaynor's mistake would have set him down for an empty- and the explanation, and the subject was headed coxcomb. Verner was not wanting soon dropped. But when Julia returned in humour, and he took an early opportu- from the ball, she found her husband readnity of relating the detrimental occurrence to ing in her dressing-room, instead of profitMadeleine, who did not receive it in a de- ing by 'no House in the sense of a double sponding spirit. allowance of sleep. They had a long conversation, with which this narrative has no concern beyond a brief statement of its results.

'He must think me a conceited ass, you know,' urged Verner.

'Nonsense,' said Madeleine; though he is a clergyman, he isn't a stick. Do you suppose he never looked in the glass himself when he thought he was alone? Yes, and on the sly when he knew he wasn't. Though,' and Madeleine looked sideways at him with shy admiration, his whiskers never can have been much to look at.'

Hugh Gaynor observed the young people with pleasant interest, and the impression which Madeleine's blush had created was quite confirmed. It never occurred to him that the state of things between the young man and the girl, so evident to him, was not recognised by Mr. and Mrs. Haviland; he did not make allowance for the effect of habit on them, and for his own strangeness; and thus it happened that he did Verner and Madeleine the unconscious service of leading to an explanation. When Mrs. Haviland and her adopted daughter had gone out that night to one of the latest and most crowded balls of the season, attended by Verner Bingham, and Hugh Gaynor had inspected their brilliant dress with such mingled admiration and bewilderment, as to its details, as had made Madeleine laugh, as she said, quite unbecomingly,' Stephen Haviland and his old friend remained alone. Their talk fell into familiar and intimate channels, into reminiscences of their boyhood, into reflections upon their comparative success in life, and Hugh expressed warmly the pleasure his friend's prosperous career had afforded him.

Stephen spoke of his wife and of Madeleine, and then it was that Hugh Gaynor made an observation which revealed to Ste

The noble lord intrusted with the care of Verner Bingham's fortunes gave him notice to prepare for his departure to St. Petersburg in a very short time after the occurrence of the conversation between Stephen and Julia, in which Hugh Gaynor's discovery had been discussed." The departure of the young diplomatist was simultaneous with that of the Haviland family for Meriton. The grief of the lovers was of necessity poignant; but Madeleine acknowledged that things might have been worse.

It would have been dreadful dreadful, I mean, than it is—if we hadn't been found out, and hadn't had the courage to tell,' she said. 'Of course it's awful -no one could have the cruelty to deny that but it is bearable, though we are not allowed to consider ourselves engaged, and have to wait till you come back, and all that; still-'

6

'That's all nonsense, Maddy,' said the impetuous young man, about not considering ourselves engaged; they needn't think so if they like, and of course it will save them no end of bother about doing the correct thing, and "communicating" with my father and mother; but as regards us it's all humbug - isn't it, darling?

Madeleine confessed, without much difficulty, that she thought it was humbug.

"I know I consider myself engaged, and what's more, I consider you engaged - and -and, Maddy, I'll make them glad to get rid of me, and come home as soon as I can.'

HAUNTED HEARTS, the American novel, the copyright of which in this country has been under litigation for four years, is at length about to be published by Messrs. Sampson Low & Co.,

the judgment of the House of Lords having been given in their favour. It will be issued in a oneand-sixpenny volume, the first of a series of English copyright editions of American books.

From The Economist, 12 Sept.
AMERICA AND ENGLAND.

ing Mr. Reverdy Johnson, the most conspicuous of all the pro-Confederate party a few years ago, but the late Lord Wharncliffe, whose son represented the House of Lords at the Sheffield banquet, was also one of the warmest of Mr. Jefferson Davis's friends in this country. We cannot of course suppose that these little features of the international compliments exchanged at Sheffield will escape American critics. The majority of the popular party will be apt to doubt on the one hand whether, if such a politician as Mr. Sumner had succeeded Mr. Adams, Sheffield would have welcomed him quite so warmly. And on the other hand, they will be apt to question the complete sympathy between Mr. Andrew Johnson's administration and the people on behalf of whom it speaks. We doubt, then, if the Sheffield demonstration is to be reckoned either a very important symptom of growing amity between the two peoples, or a probable cause of much new friendliness. It will scarcely escape suspicion of having been an opportunity seized by the former antagonists of the North in England to make their peace with an American party which, though accidentally in power, does not very bitterly resent imputations of what were once called Copperhead affinities.

WHILE rejoicing in the many signs of a better understanding between America and England, we are inclined to think that the English public attach too much importance to the conciliatory language so gracefully uttered by the new American Minister, Mr. Reverdy Johnson, in the late grotesque demonstrations at Sheffield. We do not mean to say that we doubt the justice of his conviction, that whether General Grant or Mr. Seymour be elected President for the next five years, either the one or the other will be glad to promote the most cordial understanding with England. In that belief we heartily concur, but we scarcely think that the demonstrations at Sheffield were of much value either as symptoms of a new and more cordial state of feeling, or as causes likely to promote a new and more cordial state of feeling in future. We are not alluding to Mr. Roebuck's eccentric invective against the "buccaneering" classes into whose hands political power has fallen in America, nor to his flattering classification of the immigrants into the United States as "the wild Irishman, the fiery Frenchman, the assassinating Italian, and the dumbfounded Spaniard." What Mr. Roebuck says has by this time not only no And yet though we attach little value to weight with Englishmen, but no weight the scene of international fraternisation even with the better-informed classes in which took place in Sheffield last week, we are America. We question, indeed, whether disposed entirely to agree with Mr. Reverdy his description of the American Electors as Johnson that the relations between England buccaneers will not be taken almost as a and America are improving, and are likely definite compliment by those who know that to improve, whichever of the two candidates Mr. Roebuck, not many years ago, de- for the Presidency succeeds to office. It scribed the Northern Unionists as "cor- might seem that our chances of hearty amity rupt, base, cowardly, and cruel," and who with America are less promising in case is himself unquestionably a politician of the General Grant, the candidate of the Repubblack flag, his hand being against every lican party and the victor of the civil war, man, and especially against those of his own should, as is most likely, be elected, than household of faith. But even apart from if Mr. Horatio Seymour, who will carry all the nature of Mr. Roebuck's special com- the votes of the ex-Secessionists and of the pliments to American institutions, we fear Northern " Copperheads," be returned, it may be observed in the North that the inasmuch as it is certainly the pure Repubdemonstration at Sheffield was given licans, the statesmen of New England and chiefly by those who had been somewhat the West, who cherish the bitterest grudge conspicuous in their sympathy with Seces- against us for the sympathy given by Engsion to a Minister who having been, not un- | land to the Confederates and the aid supnaturally in his position, regarded as at posed to be extended by us to the Confedbest a lukewarm Unionist during the war, erate cruisers; and our only crime in the now represents in England an American eyes of most of Mr. Horatio Seymour's supExecutive which is popular at the South porters is, not that we showed too much faand very unpopular in the North, and vour to the Confederates, but that we which is supposed likely to throw all its in- showed so little, and did not openly go to fluence in favour of the democratic candi-war in their favour. Still, we must rememdate for the Presidency, the favourite of the Southern planters. Not only was Mr. Roebuck, who took the leading part in welcom

ber that though it is certainly General Grant's party, and, if we may credit popular rumour, not least among them General

Grant himself, who cherish the sorest feel-bour. We have no wish to see Mr. Seyings against England for her part during mour, and the unscrupulous politicians who the recent war, not only have Time and appear to be behind him, succeed. But Lord Stanley already very much softened even if they did succeed, we should have no the bitterness of these feelings, but the nat- fear of foreign war, at present, at least, as ural sympathies of the popular party in the consequence. The South is drained of America must go with the popular party in wealth and labour, and, above all things, it England, which is almost certain to triumph covets rest. in the approaching elections. The American Republicans cannot choose but sympathise with our efforts to right the grievances of Ireland, and as an American writer very shrewdly remarks in Monday's Times, every grievance which we succeed in taking from the lips of Irish settlers in America will be so much deducted from the power which those settlers possess to sow disunion between America and England. Again, whatever grudge America may have against the dying English Parliament for its unaffected sympathy with Secession, Americans will be too just to cherish it against the next Parliament, which will be returned on the whole by constituencies who were heartily Northern in their sympathies throughout the American war. We cannot help thinking therefore that both from the recent political changes in England, and the programme which the Liberal party have announced, the tendency of events must be to draw closer the ties of sympathy between the supporters of General Grant and the English people.

If, however, Mr. Horatio Seymour should succeed in gaining his election, we should have no reason to fear any corresponding alienation. It is true, so far as we can judge, that he would be in the hands of rather fierce and untrustworthy politicians. The Democratic nominee for the VicePresidency, Mr. Blair, is one of the most violent of the pro-Southern party, and the wire-pullers who have secured his election,

- General Forrest, General Wade Hampton, and other notable ex-Secessionists, are well known as men of the stamp whom clear party exigencies would launch into almost any policy, however wild. Still, the great cry of the Democratic party now is a cry against taxation and in favour of selfgovernment. There is neither disposition nor resources at the South for another war. The Southerners would dearly like to embark on a reconstruction policy which would again reduce the negroes to a very inferior social caste without political rights. But they would not in any case be inclined for war as the mask of such a policy. Their great dream is to shake off the debt incurred for their own subjugation, not to incur fresh debt and suffer fresh drains of life and la

It may be said very justly that there is a certain element of danger arising solely from the evidently very nearly divided strength of the two great parties. The Republicans, far the honester and more respectable party on the whole, have yet blundered so much and been so violent and unscrupulous in some of their recent measures, as to lose a great deal of the prestige which General Grant's victories and Mr. Lincoln's administration had gained for them. The result is a much more even division of parties than a year, or even a few months ago, any of us had suspected. Now, an even division of parties is always a danger in America. It makes both parties excessively anxious to conciliate that Irish vote which so often turns the balance between them, and conciliating the Irish vote means now, no doubt, winking hard at Fenian raids and conspiracies. This element of danger we cannot pretend to ignore. Still, we hold that Mr. Gladstone is adopting the only true and permanent remedy for it. In making "justice to Ireland" the great issue of the coming elections, he will do an immense deal to paralyse the Fenian influence in the United States, and to retain all the wise and instructed public opinion in America in favour of any Government which turns a deaf ear to their mad and impotent schemes for wresting Ireland from British hands.

From The Economist.

ONE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN FRANCE
AND ENGLAND.

THE number of contrasts between England and France affects so many things, and affects those things so much, that as soon as we cross the French border into any other foreign country "one of the first and most natural observations is what an English look things have." Nearest to us as France is in space, in essence it is farthest from us. And the most conspicuous of these differences, to speak economically, is the greater nicety with which the article produced is adapted to the want for which it is produced. The French are better consumers than we are. They will buy nothing which is not