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Marjoribanks that she was a dependant of some kind or other. The Rector was a very good man, but he was Evangelical, and had a large female circle who admired and swore by him; and, consequently, he felt it in a manner natural that he should take his seat first, and the place that belonged to him as principal person present; and then, to be sure, his mission here was for Mrs. Mortimer's as well as Miss Marjoribanks' "good." After this introduction, the figure in black put up its veil, and revealed a deprecating woman, with a faint sort of pleading smile on her face. Probably she was making believe to smile at the position in which she found herself; but anyhow she took her seat humbly on another chair at a little distance, and waited, as Lucilla did, for the next golden words that it might please the Rector

to say.

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mean you have found some one for him to marry?" she asked with a look of artless surprise, bending her earnest gaze on Mr. Bury's face.

As for the Rector, he looked at Lucilla aghast, like a man caught in a trap. "Of course not, of course not," he stammered, after his first pause of consternation; and then he had to stop again to take breath. Lucilla kept up the air of amazement and consternation which had come naturally at the first, and had her eyes fixed on him, leaning forward with all the eager anxiety natura to the circumstances, and the unfortunate clergyman reddened from the end of his white cravat to the roots of his gray hair. He was almost as sensitive to the idea of having proposed something improper as his sister could have been, though indeed, at the worst, there would have been nothing improper in it, had Dr. Marjoribanks made up his mind to another wife."

My sister told me what happened yesterday," said Mr. Bury. " She is very sorry for you, Miss Marjoribanks. It is sad for you to be left alone so young, and without a mother, and exposed to-to temptations" which it is difficult to withstand at your age. Indeed, at all ages, we have great occasion to pray not to be led into temptation; for the heart of man is terribly deceitful. After hearing what she had to say, I thought it best to come up at once this morning to talk to Dr. Marjoribanks. I am sure his natural good sense will teach him that you ought not to be left alone in the house."

"I do not see how papa can help it," said Lucilla. "I am sure it is very sad for him as well; but, since dear mamma died, there has been nobody but me to be a comfort to him. I think he begins to look a little cheer. ful now," Miss Marjoribanks continued, with beautiful simplicity, looking her adversary in the face. Everybody knows that to be a comfort to him is the object of my life."

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"That is a very good feeling," said the Rector, "but it does not do to depend too much upon our feelings. You are too young to be placed in a position of so much responsibility, and open to so much temptation. I was deeply grieved for Dr. Marjoribanks when his partner in life was taken from him; but, my dear Miss Lucilla, now you have come home, who stand so much in need of a mother's care, we must try to find some one to fill her place."

"It is very dreadful for me that am so young to go against you," said Lucilla; but, if it is that, I cannot be expected to take any part in it it would not be natural. It is the great object of my life to be a comfort to papa; but, if that is what you mean, I could not give in to it. I am sure Miss Bury would understand me," said Miss Marjoribanks; and she looked so nearly on the point of tears, that the Rector's anxious disclaimer found words for itself.

"Nothing of the kind, my dear Miss Lucilla-nothing of the kind," cried Mr. Bury ; "such an idea never came into my mind. Í cannot imagine how I could have said anything-I can't fancy what put such an idea Mrs. Mortimer, you are not going away?"

Lucilla had already seen with the corner of her eye that the victim had started violently, and that her heavy veil had fallen over her face; but she had not taken any notice, for there are cases in which it is absolutely necessary to have a victim. By this time, however, the poor woman had risen in her nervous, undecided way.

"I had better go I am sure I had better go," she said, rriedly, clasping together a pair of helpless hands, as if they could find a little strength in union. "Miss Marjoribanks will understand you better, and you perhaps will understand Miss Marjoribanks."

"Oh, sit down, sit down," said Mr. Bury, Lucilla uttered a scream of genuine alarm who was not tolerant of feelings. "Perhaps and dismay; and then she came to herself, I expressed myself badly. What I meant to and saw the force of her position. She had say was, that Mrs. Mortimer, who has been it in her power to turn the tables on the a little unfortunate in circumstances sit Rector, and she did not hesitate, as a weak- down, pray had by a singular providence er woman might have done, out of consider- just applied to me when my sister returnation for anybody's feelings. "Do you ed home yesterday. These things do not

happen by chance, Lucilla. We are taken care of when we are not thinking of it. Mrs. Mortimer is a Christian lady for whom I have the greatest respect. A situation to take the superintendence of the domestic affairs, and to have charge of you, would be just what would suit her. It must be a great anxiety to the Doctor to leave you alone, and without any control, at your age. You may think the liberty is pleasant at first, but if you had a Christian friend to watch over and take care of you. What is the matter?" said the Rector, in great alarm. It was only that the poor widow who was to have charge of Lucilla, according to his benevolent intention, looked so like fainting, that Miss Marjoribanks jumped up from her chair, and rang the bell hastily. It was not Lucilla's way to lose time about anything; she took the poor woman by the shoulders, and all but lifted her to the sofa, where she was lying down with her bonnet off when the Rector came to his senses. To describe the feelings with which Mr. Bury contemplated this little entr'acte, which was not in his programme, would be beyond our powers. He went off humbly and opened the window when he was told, and tried to find the eaude-cologne on the table; while Thomas rushed down-stairs for water at a pace very unlike his usual steady rate of progress. As for Lucilla, she stood by the side of her patient, quite self-possessed, while the Rector looked so foolish. "She will be all right directly," Miss Marjoribanks was saying; "luckily she never went right off. When you don't go right off, lying down is everything. If there had been any one to run and get some water, she would have got over it; but luckily I saw it in time." What possible answer Mr. Bury could make to this, or how he could go on with his address in sight of the strange turn things had taken, it would have been hard to say. Fortunately for the moment he did not attempt it, but walked about in dismay, and put himself in the draught (with his rheumatism), and felt dreadfully vexed and angry with Mrs. Mortimer, who, for her part, how she had done with fainting, manifested an inclination to ery, for which Mr. Bury in his heart could have whipped her, had that mode of discipline been permitted in the Church, of England. Lucilla was merciful, but she could not help taking a little advantage of her victory. She gave the sufferer a glass of water, and the eau-de-cologne to keep her from a relapse, and whispered to her to lie quiet; and then she came back and took her seat, and begged the Rector not to stand in the draught.

"I don't think she is strong," said Miss Marjoribanks, confidentially, when she had wiled the disconcerted clergyman back to her side, "her colour changes so; she never would be able for what there is to do here, even if papa would consent to think of it. For my part I am sure I should be glad of a little assistance," said Lucilla, "but I never like to give false hopes, and I don't think papa would consent; she looks nice, if she was not so weak, poor thing!- and there are such quantities of things to be done here: but if you wish it, Mr. Bury, I will speak to papa," said Miss Marjoribanks, lifting her eyes, which were so open and straightforward, to the Rector's face.

To tell the truth he did not in the least know what to say, and the chances are he would not have been half so vexed and angry, nor felt in so unchristian a disposition with the poor woman on the sofa, had he meant to do her harm instead of good. "Yes, I should be glad if you would mention it to Dr. Marjoribanks," he said, without very well knowing what he said; and got up to shake hands with Lucilla, and then recollected that he could not leave his protegée behind him, and hesitated, and did not know what to do. He was really grateful, without being aware of it, to Miss Marjoribanks, when once again she came to his aid.

"Please leave her a little," said Lucilla, " and I can make acquaintance with her, you know, in case papa should be disposed to think of it;-she must lie still a little till it quite wears off. I would ask you to stay to lunch, if I was not afraid of wasting your precious time"

Mr. Bury gave a little gasp of indignation, but he did not say anything. On the whole, even though smarting under the indignity of being asked to lunch, as his sister had been, when probably there might be a repetition of the scene of yesterday, he was glad to get safely out of the house, even at the risk of abandoning his enterprise. As for a woman in want of a situation, who had. so little common sense as to faint at such a critical moment, the Rector was disposed to wash his hands of her; for Mr. Bury, "like them all," as Lucilla said, was horribly frightened by a faint, when he saw one, and afterwards pretended to disbelieve in it, and called it one of the things which a little selfcommand could always prevent. When he was gone, Miss Marjoribanks felt the full importance of her victory; and then, though she had not hesitated to sacrifice this poor woman when it was necessary to have a victim, that moment was over, and she had

no pleasure in being cruel; on the contrary, described how Mr. Bury looked, and that she went and sat by her patient, and talked, and was very kind to her; she made her lie still and tell her story at her leisure, and all about it.

she had said she did not think рара would be disposed to think of it; and Dr. Marjoribanks was so much entertained that he came up-stairs to hear the end, and took a cup of tea. "I knew it would hurt your feelings," Miss It was the third night in succession that the Marjoribanks said, candidly, "but I could Doctor had taken this step, though it was not do anything else—and you know it was against his principles; and thus it will be Mr. Bury's fault; but I am sure, if I can be seen that good came out of evil in a beautiof any use to you It was thus that fully distinct and appropriate way; but, notLucilla added, without knowing it, another withstanding, Miss Marjoribanks, though complication to her fortunes; but then, to she had escaped immediate danger, still felt be sure, clear-sighted as she was, she could in her heart the consequences of having not see into the future, nor know what was made failure at the beginning of her cato come of it. She told the Doctor in the reer. evening, with the greatest faithfulness, and

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A HARLEQUIN'S DRESS is something like a country of stage-dresses, for home use and for suit of chain-armour to handle. Nobody who exportation-that there are about six pounds has not been told how a spangle is made would of spangles on a harlequin's dress, though the ever be able to guess at the process, from a weight has been sometimes said to be twice sight of the little flat, circular, shining piece of or three times as much. How many thousands metal, with a hole in the centre, and a scarcely of spangles have to be sewn on, with four stitchperceptible slit on one side. Within the mem- es to each spangle, can of course be calcuory of living costumers spangles used to cost lated by any person who will weigh out an thirty-six shillings a-pound; they may now be ounce, count them, and then multiply them by bought for four shillings. Like most goods of ninety-six. They will amount probably to a special use, they have a narrow market; and 70,000 or 80,000; and these are, every one of indeed the trade in this country may almost them, sewn on with the best white silk be said to be in one pair of hands. They twist that can be bought or made. The are made from plated copper-wire, which comes sewing-machine has not yet been adapted to from Germany. It is drawn out to the requis- this tedious work, nor can it very well be until ite size, and is then twisted, by English work-a most ingenious modification may occur to some men, round a steel mandrel, it has the inventor. The tight-fitting suit which the same close spiral form as an old-fashioned spangles are made to cover, like the scales of a spring, before the days of vulcanized india-rub- salmon, is fashioned of a particularly strong ber. From the long twist of metal thus shaped web-cloth, manufactured expressly for the purrings are chopped by a machine; and every ring pose at Nottingham. The triangular, or, more closes by the elasticity of the metal. These properly speaking, half diamond-shaped patchrings, placed on a smooth steel anvil, are struck es, are stoutly sewn on with the same strong one by one with a smooth steel hammer, and silk twist used in affixing the spangles. Great being flattened at a blow, are spangles. Their judgment and ski are required in planning polish is the combined effect of plating and of the shapes, or they might give an awkward apthe smart, dexterous manner in which they are pearance of distortion to Harlequin's graceful struck. Machinery is now used for the pur- figure, causing him to seem bow-legged or pose, and a curious fact is thus exemplified-knock-kneed. The patches are of Leicester namely, that any piece of metal, plated how- and Bradford cloth, so fine that it has frequentever thinly with gold or silver, retains the same ly to be woven for the special purpose. Their surface when beaten out. A gilt shilling, for colours should properly be four -red, blue, yelinstance, may be hammered to the circum-low, and green-typifying, after a roughly ference of a watch dial, and it will still have scientific fashion, what used to be called the the look of being made of gold. We have sta- four elements to wit, fire, air, earth, and wated-and we have this fact as well as others on ter. The average cost of a harlequin's dress is the authority of the chief manufacturer in this 10l.-Daily Telegraph.

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From the Saturday Review.
LEADERS OF FASHION.

As in every other well-governed commu-
nity, there are authorities and powers in
the fashionable world. It is not abandoned
to a helpless anarchy. The enormous priv-
ileges which it confers are not yielded to
the first comer.
The important operations
it conducts are not abandoned to the guid-
ance of chance. That great corporation
into which so many are struggling to be ad-
mitted, and within whose boundaries so
many fierce conflicts of personal ambition
are carried on, is governed by laws whose
force is very palpable, though their defini-
tion may be somewhat vague, and is sub-
ject to rulers whose power may be informal,
but is irresistible in its sphere. Those who
have penetrated within the charmed gar-
den of fashion, or have even attempted to
elbow their way through the narrow and
crowded portals which admit to its delights,
report that it has a government of its own,
differing little from the government of less
gay communities. There are laws and cus-
toms, parties and competitions, great careers
for those who succeed, and banishment with-
out appeal for those who fail. There are
kings and queens, pretenders and usurpers,
aspirants for succession, shadows of depart-
ed greatness, and crowds of courtiers who
bask or languish under the smiles or frowns
of power.

nificant. If she is fond of influence, it is satisfactory to be able, on any given day, to command the attendance of every man of note in London. In this country, where Aspasias are not yet the fashion, it is the only form of political greatness to which a woman can aspire. It is the solitary instalment of woman's rights that has yet been accorded. So far as it goes, the concession is ample, for there are few political potentates known to the British Constitution more formidable than a really dominant leader of fashion. She wields a power, possessed by no other, over the strangely assorted following by which the supremacy of a political party is maintained. She is the Rarey or the Van Amburgh of the political menagerie. She can tame the wild journalist, and make even the independent member reasonable and docile. It is her business to throw the party lasso round the necks of clever young men who come up from the Universities with no very definite opinions, and perfectly ready to adopt the formulas of any party which shall prove its sagacity by appreciating duly their transcendent talents. To her falls the still more arduous task of keeping to their allegiance the numerous members of Parliament for whom, in these degenerate days, more substantial inducements cannot be provided. She does not perhaps receive from public opinion full credit for the success of her labours. She does good by stealth, and, though her The constitution of the kingdom of Fash- blushing days are probably past, she would ion exhibits the mutability to which larger be very far from pleased to find it fame. communities are subject. At one time its In the day of victory, few people give credgovernment was hereditary. There was a it to the blarney of the drill sergeants which period when fashionable power was one of got the recruits together by whom the victhe appanages of birth. But the aristocrat- tory was won; and so, after a critical diviic principle has receded here as elsewhere; sion, the ld thinks little of the womanly and the throne, or thrones, of the commu- skill by when the union of so many erratic nity are the reward no longer of the most politicians, and the fidelity of newspapers noble, but of the most fortunate. They are hitherto so wayward, has been secured. not held for life, or for any definite term of But the statesmen who know the secret proyears; but rather like the Presidencies of cesses by which the enthusiasm of a great South American Republics, for as long as party is manufactured give honour where the occupant can keep his or her enemies at honour is due; and the result is that, among bay, and no longer. But, uncertain as the influential people, an average magnate of duration of the dignity of a leader of fash- fashion is a person of a good deal more imion is, it is still the object of a very animat-portance than an average Cabinet Minister. ed competition. Its attractions are, of But the political part of the position is course, principally for women. The leader- perhaps its least powerful attraction. ship of fashion is the woman's premiership. people do not care for politics, and, except It is undoubtedly a position of no little as lions, politicians are rather dull ornapower, and as worthy of ambition probably ments to a drawing-room. They are painas any other dignity. If a woman cares for fully addicted to talking shop, and think it distinction, she must feel a considerable rather beneath them to show any susceptipleasure in building up for herself a posi- bility to female charms. The one recomtion from which the vulgar herd of duchess- mendation they formerly possessed, of bees and marchionesses looks small and insig-ing able to "do something" for the hand

All

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some but impecunious models of fashion in whom the matronly heart takes so tender an interest, is, unhappily, gone the way of many other excellent institutions. The fashionable leader enjoys advantages more solid than the homage of politicians. She commands that marriage-market which is the serious and arduous business of the apparently frivolous throng. In fact, the most important meetings of the heir exchange are held under her roof; and she derives from it all the social advantages which, both east and west of Temple Bar, are enjoyed by those who can help their neighbours to a good thing. If she brings out an heir at a good premium that is to say, with a large estate in expectancy, and a paralytic father the competition for allotments at Capel Court is nothing compared to the competition in Belgravia and Mayfair for the invitations which confer a share in the great matrimonial speculation of the season. Business of this kind soon makes a fashionable leader's position secure. Acquiring a connection among the elder sons is difficult just at first. Yet they will generally go to any well-established drawing-room where the hostess is bold enough in telling them that they are clever, just as an ugly woman easily yields to any man who is impudent enough to swear that she is lovely. But when they have been once snared and domesticated, their captor may pick and choose at her leisure the female portion of her company. If she knows her power - and unless she does she will not keep it long-everything that is not either pretty to look at or pleasant to talk to will be pitilessly excluded. A bazaar of good reputation ought not to exhibit any but the first commodities in the man. It is a matter of surprise that chaperons should have been endured so long. They are not, artistically speaking, ornamental, and in a business point of view they are a serious impediment. Many a light-hearted young customer, who is on the point of striking a bargain out of sheer gaiety of heart, is frightened back into sobriety and calculation by their awful presence, or disheartened by their clumsy efforts at fascination. Besides, putting the fat dowager so close to the blooming beauty is rather like sending a gouty butler round with the port-wine. It is forcing the inevitable future upon those who would gladly think only of the present. No leader of fashion has, however, as yet come forward to reform this abuse. As yet they have not fully measared their own power, or the submissive

ness, born of despair, which takes hold of the soul of a daughter-logged mamma.

A post so honourable is naturally much coveted; but the ways to it are arduous, and the qualifications which insure success in such a career are rarely united in a single aspirant. They are very various. Rank and wealth are, of course, valuable; without a certain portion of the latter, indeed. nothing can be done. When a fashionable lady has come to the end of her supplies, and has no more money to spend, the adjective will soon cease to attach to her name; unless, indeed, she is inclined to meet the difficulty by spending somebody else's money. Then, again, it is of great importance that she should have, if possible, a distinguished husband. Lions are an absolute necessity to a lady who aspires to rule by the power of the salon. They are her myrmidons, her vieille garde, her last resource in the moment of peril. She need fear neither rival parties, nor bad weather, nor the sudden caprices of hospitality in high places, so long as she can exhibit the traveller who has walked round the North Pole, or the celebrated guerilla leader who headed the last insurrection of the Taepings. But lions, indispensable as they are, are difficult to secure, unless there is a husband of some distinction to receive them. The pecuniary and matrimonial qualifications, however, are generally no longer a question of choice by the time the necessity for them begins to be perceived. They are matters of consideration for young ladies about to marry; but any unlucky mistake once committed in regard to them cannot be mended after marriage. Other qualifications of a moral kind can be cultivated at any time. It is not, of course, to be understood that morality, in the technical sense of the word, is a necessary condition. The Divorce Court is rapidly dissipating all prejudices upon this subject; and the advantage of having the most telling passages of your private diary of letters published in a form to secure universal perusal is calculated before long to draw all the more intellectual portion of the sex within its sacred precincts. In fact, it may be already said that a mishap in the Divorce Court is looked upon as a presumption in favour of the literary accomplishments of the victim. No fashionable leader has, however, as yet set the fashion of going through the Court, and the experiment probably could not be tried with impunity. But, short of this extreme, a slight scandal was not in past times any impediment to

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