" I do not see how that can be possible," responded Emma; "I should think nothing could be more uncertain than sharing."

"Tut! you don't seem to understand Mr. Jessamy's plan," laughed Miss Montayne.

"I ought to do so," remarked Emma, "for he explained himself pretty plainly."

"Oh, yes; he'd make you believe a great deal," said Mrs. Honeybun, as she put on her ninth petticoat.

"You alarm me!" cried Emma, changing colour and beginning to tremble.

"Not the slightest occasion for alarm, my dear Mrs. Cave," said Miss Montayne.

"Not the slightest!" chimed in Mrs. Honeybun. " Do I stick out enough? my Hor' says I don't."

"If you are any larger you'll not get through the entrances," observed Miss Montayne, "and you'll monopolize the whole of the stage."

"Hoop, brocade, powder and patches! - the prettiest costume an actress can wear," said Mrs. Honeybun, glancing at the looking-glass ;-" so, at least, my Hor' says."

"What really good dresses you wear!" said Emma; "I shall look quite shabby by your side."

"Nay, Mrs. Cave, you are too pretty and too neat to look otherwise than well;" said good-natured Mrs. Honeybun. "I assure you my Hor' has fallen desperately in love with you. Oh, he has! he says-and he's a good judge, I can tell you, he says, that yours is the sweetest face he ever saw."

"Nonsense!" said Emma, blushing. "I am sure Mr. Honeybun has my grateful thanks for his lavish praise; but I will show him the face of my 'Rina, and then hear what he will say."

"The little girl of whom Mr. Jessamy talks so much?" asked Miss Montayne.

"I believe he admires my little girl," responded the fond mother.

"Let him admire her as much as he pleases," said Mrs. Honeybun, "and pray, never refuse anything he may offer, for he can' afford to be generous; indeed, my Hor' says that he's as rich as a lord."

"Certainly, Mrs. Cave."

"I can't comprehend."

"I don't expect that you can."

"Oh, pray Mrs. Honeybun, do explain matters; for I am

in a whirl of conjecture.'

"I'll tell you all I know about him," said she. " When we engaged with Mr. Jessamy, five years ago, he was travelling precisely in the same manner as he now travels: we were to share after certain expenses were defrayed; -such, at least, was the understood condition of our engagement. However, by some inexplicable mode of calculation, peculiarly his own, he has always made affairs appear in a most prosperous state-paying us each week, whether business were good or bad; indeed," added the talkative little woman, "Hor' says that in some towns Mr. Jessamy gives the people tickets, rather than we shall see empty benches."

"You amaze me!" said Emma.

"The concern altogether," resumed Mrs. Honeybun, "must cost him a considerable sum annually. Look at our dresses, provided by him!-in fact, he is generosity from beginning to end."

" Is he indeed!" said Emma, drawing a long breath.

"He is the happiest creature in existence, Mrs. Cave," said Mrs. Honeybun; "and he seems to take an especial delight in making others as happy as himself. He is fond of bustle and excitement: people say that he is the only son of a fox-hunting squire in Yorkshire, and that a young lady, his cousin, to whom he was fondly attached, jilted him." "Yes, that is exactly the tale I have heard," observed Miss Montayne.

"Dear, dear! you have quite unlinked the chain of my story," said Mrs. Honeybun.

"I am very sorry, my love," apologized Miss Montayne; "you were at the part where his cousin was jilting him. I wish I had a chance of so doing!" sighed she, in a sentimental tone. "Alas! poor me!"

"Please go on!" entreated Emma; "I am so interested in your tale." "Well, she-his cousin-jilted him for an old baronet, with a long pedigree and an ugly face. Mr. Jessamy saw

her on the morning of her wedding, and told her that he would turn showman, and placard his name in every town in England that he would avenge (after his own fashion) the wrong she had done him. The lady was awfully proud, and stormed at him vehemently, calling him fool and madman. However, he kept his promise. Wherever she went he followed her; to every town in which she resided he took his company; nay, more, he made a rule of sending her (much to the disgust of the lady and her husband) a playbill, at the top of which his own name was printed in large red letters."

"What an extraordinary man!" said Emma.

"But what was once a mere freak, or means of revenge, has now become his hobby; for his cousin is dead, and he is still pursuing the same erratic life as before."

"In his conversation with us," observed Emma, " he said something about once belonging to a booth."

"He'd say anything to mislead your guesses regarding himself," said Mrs. Honeybun.

"Let this assurance suffice you, Mrs. Cave," said Miss Montayne; "spite of all Mr. Jessamy's eccentricities, you will find him a thoroughly good man."

"She's in love with him," whispered Mrs. Honeybun. "Hush!-mum-Mrs. Cave."

"Leonora!" said a voice, outside the door.

"My Hor'!" exclaimed the little woman, darting away. "I'll introduce you to him by-and-by."

"Ah!" sighed Miss Montayne, "everybody appears happy but poor me!"

"Here's Hor'!" said Mrs. Honeybun, reappearing; "you are both dressed, my dears; and you don't mind an old married man, do you? So he may come in and look at me, mayn't he? I want his opinion as to my appearance. Thank you, dears! You are permitted to enter, Hor'!" she said, opening the door and leading into the aparthandsome young man, carefully costumed "now look, and tell me what you think of me!" she said, standing in a prim attitude. "Oh, dear! I forgot: Mrs. Cave, this is my Hor'! Don't mind him at all, he's only an old married man. Let me see-when were we married, Hor'?"

ment

a

"Oh, last week," replied he, anxiously adjusting the flowers in her powdered wig.

"Fiddle-de-dee about last week! how can you tell such fibs, Hor'? Why, we've been wedded six years-six happy years!"

"In Cupid's calendar-(too much rouge, pet)-years count as days.”

"Just hearken to him!" said the affectionate wife. "Oh, Mrs. Cave, he loves me so much!" whispered she.

"The curtain is going up!" shouted a voice at the door. "Lud o' mercy! come along, Hor'! Oh! my fan; I am forgetting it! there you'll find it on my dressing-table !thank you!"

And away the happy pair hurried to the stage. "Ah!" murmured Miss Montayne, "Love is blind, and lovers cannot see the petty follies they themselves commit."

CHAPTER IX.

THE bright sun of a spring morning is peeping through the half-closed window-curtains, shedding its warm rays upon a little child, who, in a homely chamber, lies moaning and tossing on her bed; a man with pale and anxious face, sits watching the sufferer. He does not speak. He has no ears, no eyes, no tongue, for any one save her his 'Rina. And poor little Clo' is crying for 'Rina. Alas! sister 'Rina cannot play with her now.

Emma puts her baby away, and hushes the weeping Clo'. A low cry of pain reaches Emma's ear, and for an instant her heart seems to stand still.

"Water!" murmurs a faint voice.

The mother hastens to the couch. Julius takes the glass of water from her hand and motions her away.

Emma clasps Clo' to her bosom, and offers up a silent

prayer-a mother's prayer-to her Maker. That prayer is for her treasure-her firstborn.

There is a gentle tap at the door, which is presently opened, and Joyful Jessy, carrying a basket, enters on tiptoe. He glances towards the bed, then turns away, coughs, and wipes his eyes.

Clo' must cease crying, he says, or 'Rina will never get well-and he draws from the basket a heap of delicacies; and, lastly, a dressed doll for his pet. But she is too ill to play with the waxen toy, so he gives it to Clo', who, with her dumb playmate nestled close to her breast, soon falls asleep.

Emma approaches the bed, to gaze upon her darling. Julius tells his wife to go away and study her part: one pair of eyes will be sufficient to watch over 'Rina, and those eyes must be his.

The mother looks up imploringly; then, with a jealous throb in her breast, she steals to the opposite corner of the

room.

Joyful Jessy is somewhat perplexed at this selfish and unnatural conduct; but he is learning Julius's character-for the broad man is very shrewd.

Emma asks Joyful Jessy whether he ever had the measles, and whether he suffered much pain with them?

He cannot recollect anything about the matter, he replies, but he thinks that the disease is not very dangerous. All people are supposed to have the measles one time or other; so it is as well to get the trouble over at once as to have it hanging in perspective.

She says it is singular that she too cannot remember ever suffering from this disease; indeed, she is quite sure that she has never had it.

If that be the case, she will be certain to catch it now, Joyful Jessy says; but she must not fret, she must take all things calmly as he does, for "the web of our life is of a mingled yarn-good and ill together."

How this man comforted her! his voice, laden with sweet words, was poured into her ear, and like unto a magic balm, for a time healed her wounds.

Day followed day; and 'Rina still grew worse and worse. The parents had now a divided duty, for Clotilda too was ill.