"What, Lissborough ! refuse to sup with me!" said the baronet, in surprise.

"I really must beg you to excuse me on this occasion;" he answered, with an air of embarrassment.

"Well, well, as you please! What stay do you purpos making in town?"

"I am quite uncertain in my movements," replied the duke; "however, I will drop in before I return to Eaglemount."

The two friends shook hands, and, with an adieu to Geoffrey, the duke departed.

CHAPTER XXIV.

I MUST now return to 'Rina and Clotilda, who, though engaged in their numerous professional duties, continue to write long letters to Emma and to Paul Grahame.

The artist is better, much better, and is again working at his picture; he writes in good spirits and says that Mrs. Godfrey is grumbling worse than ever because he has given up his situation of scenic artist in her theatre, and also because she has engaged a scene-painter who daubs her flats and wings, and wastes her colours and brushes.

Emma's letters are sadder than usual, and the sisters fear that their mother's health-which has always been delicate -will soon break up entirely. They wish she were with them, but their father will not permit her to be with her daughters. Julius says that their family is too large, and too expensive to live in London, supported by the earnings of two young girls. When the boys are old enough to get an engagement in town, Emma may be near her daughters, not till then. Still, he considers it necessary that some one should watch over and protect 'Rina. If Clotilda, who now had gained a slight name in the metropolis, were to return to the country, he could go to town, and all would be well.

Emma takes courage, and exclaims somewhat loudly against wronging one child for the sake of another more favoured and loved. The mother entreats Julius not to be unjust to his children. If he wishes to be near them, he' may go; she will continue to struggle on with the boys, who are no burden to her, since they work for and receive a salary sufficient to maintain them. No, no-her daughters must not be separated.

CHAPTER XXV.

'RINA one evening was sitting in the green-room, reading a long letter from Paul, when the call-boy approached her. "The ghost-scene is just on, miss," said he; if you'd like to see it, now's your time."

Oh, thank you, Brill, for reminding me! I have a great desire to witness that scene;" and she thrust away Paul's letter, and proceeded to the first entrance, in which Brill-contrary to the regulations—had placed a seat for the accommodation of the beautiful Ophelia. "Are you not weary of 'Hamlet?

man, familiarly greeting 'Rina.

asked an old gentle

"No, Mr. Darley, I greatly love the tragedy." "Ah! you like your part in it."

"Much."

"Draw back a little, my dear," said Mr. Darley, "you are seen by the occupants of the stage-box; occupant, I should rather say, for it's the Duke of Lissborough, sitting by himself as usual. Whatever brings him to see Hamlet,' I wonder?" and Darley rubbed his mouth, pinched his chin, and looked slily at 'Rina. "I repeat, I wonder what brings the Duke of Lissborough to the theatre every night?"

"Oh! I suppose to see Mr. Trenmore's Hamlet," replied she, innocently.

"Tut! you know very well, you suppose nothing of the

sort," retorted the actor, with an inward chuckle, rubbing his mouth again.

“Well, then, I imagine his grace comes to see Mr. Darley's grave-digger," responded she, laughing.

"Your imagination and supposition are both in error, young lady; his grace has eyes for nobody on the stage but the fair and beauteous Ophelia."

"Nay, Mr. Darley."

"Indeed, I speak most truly; while you are on the stage, he is an attentive listener, but after your exit he either goes to sleep or turns his back upon the acting. Sometimes I have seen him amusing himself with a newspaper during those scenes in which you are not engaged; I have watched him for a whole fortnight, and know well what magnet attracts the noble duke. Oh, it's all very fine to pretend ignorance of the matter! Whence do all the bouquets come? "From Covent Garden Market, I believe," said 'Rina, laughing.

"Covent Garden Market, little mischief!" exclaimed the old actor, using his favourite action and peering inquiringly into her face; "Covent Garden Market! Who buys and sends them to the stage-door every night, eh? Oh! I dare say you think me very inquisitive and

"Not at all; I'm continually asking myself the same question who can it be that sends me the beautiful bouquets every night?"

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:

Humph! there sits the donor, "said the actor, inclining his head towards the stage-box; "you've made a conquest: those golden locks of yours will some day be surmounted by a coronet; I see the game-take care.”

'Rina shook her head.

Darley rubbed his mouth, gave a peculiar snort, and walked away.

What new and strange feelings his words had awakened in the young actress's breast! She looked on the stage; she heard the voices of Hamlet and the Ghost, but could not comprehend a syllable of the dialogue. She clasped her hands tightly and bit her lip; she feared she was in a dream. The scene she had desired to witness passed before her bewildered senses like a long and confused murmur.

The act-drop fell, and the Ghost's mailed hand was laid on 'Rina's shoulder.

"Did you see how I bothered Mr. Trenmore just now?" asked he, in a fussy flutter.

No, no, Mr. Mowbray, I did not," said 'Rina, rousing herself.

"You didn't? Well now, that is wonderful; you cannot conceive what an ass I made of myself. Bless my soul! I never was so lost in all my life."

"Did you stick?" asked she.

"Stick, my dear child," exclaimed Chatterton Mowbray, "tut, worse than that! I murdered Trenmore's scene, and all for a partridge; the deuce take my stupidity."

Pray tell me all about the matter."

"You must understand, my dear," said he, speaking in an impressive voice, and laying the forefinger of his right hand upon the forefinger of his left, "you must understand that I am most particular in all things connected with my business, and wouldn't distress anybody even for Her Majesty Queen Victoria, much as I honour the royal lady."

"Well, well ! "

"I assure you I am too considerate a man to spoil an actor's points, I've too much respect for my profession to do so; Mrs. Chatterton Mowbray often tells me that I am a generous fool; over and over again she says to me, 'Chatterton, you're a goose, a Tom-noddy.' Then I reply, 'I'm your husband, my dear ;' and I pinch her pretty cheek, for she is one of the best wives in England-a pattern to her sex.' 'Rina smiled, and he proceeded :

"But I'm not getting on with my story, am I? In this scene, wherein I've just committed myself, I had to make a rapid exit, taking, as my cue for so doing, a gesture from Hamlet."

"Yes, yes."

"I have played the Ghost to Trenmore's Hamlet upwards of fifty times, and never missed that gesture till to-night. Egad! it makes me furious to think I've spoiled a whole scene for the sake of a defunct partridge."

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At this moment Mr. Trenmore came into the entrance. 'My dear fellow," said he, addressing the Ghost; "my dear fellow, whatever was the matter with you that you didn't take your cue? I gave it four or five times, but I couldn't move you, you seemed rooted to the spot."

"I beg a thousand pardons: I was rooted to the spot. I am vexed beyond expression to have distressed you. My wife will go distracted when she hears of the affair." "Don't tell her," said Mr. Trenmore, with difficulty suppressing his laughter.

"Law bless you! I tell my wife everything. On the honour of a gentleman, I declare I tell her everythinggood and bad that happens to me."

"And don't you imagine you're a fool for your pains?" asked Trenmore, drily.

I'm

"Well," returned Mr. Mowbray, seriously, "that depends much upon the light in which she may view the case. well aware how she'll regard the present affair; she'll storm like the very devil, though naturally she's the mildest creature alive. She'll clench her hands—such little hands, they are fit only to be looked at,—and anyone would suppose she would box my ears; but she won't. And why won't she? you will inquire. Simply because I shall fling my arms around her; give her a kiss, and call her the most charming woman in the world. But on this occasion, feeling myself to be so much to blame, I shall suffer positive shame when I confess the fact to her."

"What were you thinking of to forget your business?"" asked Mr. Trenmore.

"Partridges," answered the ghost, demurely.

Partridges!" echoed Mr. Trenmore.

Partridges," repeated the Ghost, in a deep, sepulchral tone; "half-decomposed birds, offensive to the olfactory organs of every lady and gentleman.

"Proceed."

"I am fond, exceedingly fond, of the before-mentioned birds. When cooked they are delicious. Well, to-day at dinner, my wife, who is the most attentive woman in the universe, placed a brace before me. They were delicately brown; done to a turn. Ye gods, I had a feast before me ! When lo! I discovered that the bread-sauce was burnedburned, my dear sir!-burned. I flew into a rage; threw down my knife and fork, and, I verily believe, I forgot my wife's presence and swore a little-not at her, poor dear, but at the cook, the destroyer of my dinner and of the equanimity of my temper."