"Tell them we have a young officer with us who was shot through the lungs in battle not long since. Shall we make the hour half-past eightplace, the Astor House?"

"That would suit me precisely, Colonel Vance." "Then I will bid you good day, sir, for the present."

Charlton put out his hand, but Vance bowed without seeming to notice it, and passed out of the house into the carriage.

"Mr. Pompilard," said he, as the carriage moved on, "are you willing to take me on trust, say for the next hour, as a gentleman, and comply with my reasonable requests without compelling me to explain myself further? Call me, if you please, Mr. Vance."

"Truly, Mr. Vance," replied Pompilard, "I do not see how I risk much in acceding to your proposition. If you were an impostor, you would hardly think of fleecing me, for I am shorn close already. Besides, you carry the right signet on your front. Yes, I will trust you, Mr. Vance." "Thank you, sir. Your wife is living?" "I left her alive and well some two hours ago." "Has she any children of her own?"

"One-a daughter, Antoinette. We call her

Netty. A most extraordinary creature! An artist, sir! Paints sea-pieces better than Lane, Bradford, or Church himself. A girl of decided genius."

"Well, Mr. Pompilard, if your house is not far from here, I wish to drive to it at once, and have your wife and daughter do us the honour to take seats in this carriage."

"That we can do, Mr. Vance. Driver, 27 Lavinia Street! The day is pleasant. They will enjoy a drive. I must make you acquainted with my son-in-law, Major Purling. A noble fellow, sir! Had an arm shot off at Fair Oaks. Used up, too, by fever. Brave as Julius Cæsar. And, like Julius Cæsar, writes as well as he fights. He proposes getting up a history of the war. Here's his Prospectus."

Vance looked at it. "I mustn't be outdone," said he, "by a lady. Put me down also for thirty copies. Put down Mr. Winslow and Madame Volney each for as many more.'

وو

"But that is astounding, sir!" cried Pompilard. "A hundred and twenty copies disposed of already! The Major will jump out of his bed at the news!"

As the carriage crossed the Bowery and bowled into Lavinia Street, Pompilard remarked: "There are some advantages, Mr. Vance, in being on the

East River side. We get a purer sea air in summer, sir."

At that moment an unfortunate stench of decayed vegetables was blown in upon them, by way of comment, and Pompilard added: "You see, sir, we are very particular about removing all noxious rubbish. Health, sir, is our first consideration. We have the dirt-carts busy all the time.”

Here the carriage stopped. "A modest little place we have taken for the summer, Mr. Vance. Small, but convenient and retired. Most worthy and quiet people, our neighbours. Walk in, sir."

They entered the parlour. "Take a seat, Mr. Vance. If you've a taste for art, let me commend to your examination that fine engraving between the windows. Here's a new book, if you are literary-Miss Carrie Cameron's famous novel. Amuse yourself.”

And having handed him "The Guerilla's Bride," Pompilard rushed upstairs. Instantly a great tumult was heard in the room over Vance's head. It was accompanied with poundings, jumpings, and exultant shouts. Three hundred and sixty dollars had been placed on the coverlid beneath which lay the wounded Purling. It was the first money his literary efforts had ever brought him.

The spell was broken. Thenceforth the thousands would pour in upon him in an uninterrupted flood. Can it be wondered that there was much jubilation over the news?

Vance was of course introduced to all the inmates, and made a partaker in their good spirits. At last Mrs. Pompilard and Netty were dressed and ready. Vance handed them into the carriage. He and Pompilard took the back seat. As they drove off they encountered a crowd before an adjoining door. It was composed of some of those "most worthy and quiet neighbours" of whom Pompilard had recently spoken. They were gathering, amid a Babel of voices, round a cart where an ancient virago, Milesian by "birth, was berating a butcher whom she charged with having sold her a stale leg of mutton the week before.

"One misses these bustling little scenes in the rural districts," quoth Pompilard. "They serve to give colour and movement, life and sparkle, to our modest neighbourhood."

"Mrs. Pompilard," said Vance, "we are on our way to the Astor House, where I propose to introduce to you a young lady. I wish you and your daughter to scrutinize her closely, and to tell me if you see in her a likeness to any one you have ever known."

241

CHAPTER XI.

ANOTHER DESCENDANT OF THE CAVALIERS.

Those flashes of marvellous light point to the existence of dormant faculties, which, unless God can be supposed to have over-furnished the soul for its appointed field of action, seem only to be awaiting more favourable circumstances, to awaken and disclose themselves.-John James Taylor.

WHILE the carriage is rolling on, and the occupants are getting better acquainted, let us hurry forward and clear the way by a few explanations.

Vance and his party had now been several days in New York, occupying contiguous suites of rooms at the Astor House. The ladies consisted of Clara, Madame Volney, and Mrs. Ripper (late Mrs. Gentry). Esha was, of course, of the party. She had found her long-lost daughter in Hattie, or Mrs. Davy, now a widow, whose testimony came in to fortify the proofs that seemed accumulating to place Clara's identity beyond dispute. Hattie joyfully resumed her place as Clara's femme de