"Indeed, I can't imagine why Dorothy should behave so," she replied, with an air of vexation. "It must be one of her freaks. She is the cleverest of all my sisters, and is the best-hearted creature in the world; but she is very independent, and will sometimes do and say things to surprise you." Next morning Miss Dorothy did do something to surprise me. She went out, after a heavy fall of snow, and helped the children to make a snow-man, joining in it with a girlish glee almost equal to that of the little ones. From the window I looked on with an air of disapproval, but she took no notice of me. After a while I concluded to join them; but as soon as I appeared Dorothy declared that she was half-frozen, and ran in to warm herself. I presently followed, and finding her in the parlor with Carrie, in a fit of desperation I challenged her to a game of chess. Carrie, after looking on for a few moments. made some remark about the children and left the room. Dorothy played at first carefully and deliberately. She was a good player, and, I saw, had set herself with some confidence to vanquish me. I at first acted in the defensive, then attacked her, and kept her in check, wishing to prolong the game as much as possible. By-and-by she appeared to perceive my drift, and became a little excited. "Check !” she said, suddenly. "Check," I retorted, coolly. "Check again!" said she, defiantly, and the color began to mount into her cheek. I slowly and deliberately examined the situation, and placidly made my move. She followed with a hasty move, and threw herself back in the chair as though the game were ended. I, as coolly as before, advanced a piece. "Why don't you checkmate ?" said she, sharply. "Because you purposely placed your king in my power. You wish the game to end, even though with your own defeat." She looked at me curiously. "Suppose I do ?" she said. "That is a consideration, I confess." 243 two hours previous, and, he feared, had returned by the meadow road. The bridge on that road was not safe to cross when the holes in it were hidden by snow. I put my horse to his best pace, and soon came upon fresh tracks of a sleigh. Within sight of the bridge I discerned the little cutter, gliding swiftly forward to where the black railing spanned the deep stream below. Dorothy turned on hearing my voice. "Don't attempt to cross the bridge," I cried; "it is broken and dangerous !" She hesitated one moment, then drove straight forward. Before I could reach her she had passed the middle of the bridge, and turned her head with a half-triumphant, halfdefiant glance at me. At that moment her horse slipped, snorted and commenced plunging wildly. His foot had gone through a broken plank, and I heard the crackling of the splinters as the rotten wood further gave way beneath his weight. I sprang from my horse, darted forward, and without a moment's pause caught the girl in my arms and set her safely upon the opposite bank. Then I seized the bridle of the struggling horse, and with some difficulty lifted him from his perilous situation, and led him limping and snorting to the firm ground beyond. "Is he hurt ?" said Dorothy, eagerly. "Not beyond a few scratches and bruises." She drew a breath as of relief; then turned upon me with head erect and crimson cheeks. "What brought you here?" she demanded. "Your sister sent me in search of you. It was fortunate that I arrived just at the moment I did. "It was no business of yours to look after me; and you -I-you had no right to-to-" "No right to save your life, you would say. Do you know that if I had not been here the horse and sleigh would have gone through the bridge with you ?" She looked down into the sullen stream with a sort of shudder. "I suppose I ought to thank you," she said, in a more I replaced the piece last moved, and brought forward a subdued tone. knight. "Checkmate; your king is a prisoner, but you are free." Something like a smile flitted across her lips. "I must thank your courtesy. Some time I may play a fair and square game with you; but at present I am going to drive." "To drive! in this snow ?" "In the single sleigh. The doctor has a poor patient about two miles from here, and sister is anxious to send her some things." "But there is a double sleigh. Do allow me to drive you. The snow is deeper than you think, and you might find trouble in getting through." "Not at all, if you don't feel disposed to do so. It cost me nothing," I answered, quietly. "But now that the runner is broken and your horse lamed, pray take mine and get home as quickly as possible, in order to relieve your sister's anxiety." "No, thank you," she answered, composedly, "I will walk." And she did walk, the whole remaining mile home; where, on my arrival, I found her looking more quite and subdued than usual. Next morning she came up to me as I stood before the fireplace in the parlor, after breakfast, with my sprained wrist in a sling. "Mr. Eustace, why did you not tell me yesterday that "I am not afraid. I am used to driving alone, and I you were hurt?" prefer it sometimes." "You did not ask. It was the horse that you inquired So she set forth alone. Tom stool at the window watch- after," I answered, gravely. "Besides, I had no idea that ing her. you would take any interest in anything concerning "Carrie, are you not afraid to trust her alone in this myself." snow ?" "Oh, no! she is really such a splendid driver she will be sure to get safely out of it," said Carrie. By-and-by, however, she became uneasy. The snow had again commenced to fall, and it was getting late. "Arthur," said she, "would you mind going to meet Dorothy? The drift at the turning may be too deep for her to get through." A mile from the house I passed the toll-gate. The keeper informed me that Miss Lee had passed there some She raised her eyes quickly to mine, with a curious, half-sarcastic smile. "Is that really your opinion?" "Certainly," I answered, with a little wonder. "Why should I fancy that I had the power to interest you?" A shade of something like scorn or triumph was now visible in her smile. She bit her lips, turned away, and looked from the window. I saw a flush on her cheek, and felt that here was something which I did not understand. 244 "Miss Lee," said I, desperately, "I want to ask you a question ?" She turned her head in some surprise. "But will you answer it candidly ?" "That depends," she said, shortly. "No," she said, at length, slowly, "I cannot be your friend. I cannot forget the humiliating, degrading light in which you regarded me. You thought I came here toto deliberately endeavor to entrap your valuable affections, comfortable fortune' and handsome person. You "The question is simply this: Why do you hate me ?" thought me unwomanly enough to-" She flushed to the roots of her golden-red hair. "I don't hate you, Mr. Eustace." "Yes, you do, Miss Lee." "Very well, since you insist upon it." "But why is it so? That is my question." She was silent. "If you do not dislike me you are angry with me. What cause have you for it? What have I done to excite your displeasure, and, I may add, your scorn ?" She looked steadily from the window. The color deepened in her cheeks until they and her eyes were all aglow. "Do you wish to know ?" she said, suddenly turning and looking full into my face. "Certainlymost anxious." "Then, I have a cause. You have misjudged and insulted me." "I? In what manner ?" "Do you remember the day you ar. rived?" said she, with a sort of suppressed excitement. "Do you remember when your brother came into the room, and the talk you had with him ?" "I think I do," I replied, beginning to feel very uncomfortable. "Do you re "I was a fool," I interrupted, vehemently. "I deserve your contempt-but, oh, Miss Lee-Dorothy-can I do nothing to atone for my folly ?" "Nothing," she answered, coldly. "I am not your enemy, I am not vindictive; but I cannot be friendly with a man who so degraded and insulted me in his thoughts." And she left me, smarting under a sense of self-degradation such as I had never before experienced. I had before learned to admire this girl despite myself, and now I was conscious of a feeling of remorseful tenderness toward her, for the wounded and outraged womanly feeling which I could see was so strong beneath all her THE SEVEN SISTERS. SEE POEM ON PAGE 247. pride. I longed to kneel at her feet, to take her in my arms and protect her henceforth and through life. This feeling grew stronger with every hour that I passed in her company. I did not intrude myself upon her, but I sometimes fancied that she perceived what my feelings were. She was now reserved, but not scornful, and once or twice, as I chanced suddenly to meet her eye, I fancied that they fell, and a soft color came into her cheek. "Arthur," said my sister-in-law, "what is the reason that you and Dorothy can't be friends? Have you done "How did you know this, Miss Lee? Could Tom have anything to offend her? She won't tell me, so I ask you. told Caroline, and she member all you said ?" Now I felt the blood rush to my face in turn. "Nothing of the kind. I was in the library. Both doors were open, and I heard it all. I could not help it." Her delicate lips closed firmly, with an expression of supreme scorn. "Then," said I, emphatically, "you heard the talk of one of the greatest donkeys that ever made himself ridiculous and contemptible !" She turned, and passed her fingers lightly over the keys of the open piano; but I saw that they trembled, and the notes were uncertain. I saw, too, that her eyes were glittering with tears. I approached and stood by her side, my heart humbled with shame and remorse. "Miss Lee, can you forgive me-can you forget my absurd folly, and let us be friends?" She hesitated; her lip quivered, her fingers falteringly ran over the keys. Have you quarreled ?" "Oh," said Caroline, her eyes brightening. I didn't feel like smiling at Carrie's artfulness, even when she that evening asked Dorothy to sing, and in tho midst of it pretended to hear baby screaming, and so left us alone. "Will you sing me a song now, Aliss Dorothy?" I said. There is nothing on earth good opinion-your friendship. that I would not do to win it." The pale cameo of her face flushed to a faint rose hue. "I have not a bad opinion of you, Mr. Eustace; I think better of you than I did when I first knew you. And"she hesitated, then spoke rapidly-"I admit that you were not so very much to be blamed in-in forming the opinion"-and here her face flushed scarlet, and she broke off abruptly. "Don't say so-don't remind me of my insufferable folly. If you could forget it, Dorothy-forgive it-be my friend. Oh, Dorothy, how can you be so cold-hearted, so cruel, to one who loves you as I do ?" The words had escaped me almost involuntarily; and now, the ice once broken, my feelings would not be restrained, and I ended in asking if she would not allow me to hope that I might yet win her love-yet hope to some time claim her as my wife. And then I was silent-half dismayed at my own precipitancy, and yet half hoping, as I saw Dorothy's downcast face, and eyes filled with tears. She looked up the next moment. She rose and stood before me, proud and pale. 66 'No," she said, with a sort of passionate decision in ber tone-"no; I will never be your wife. I am going away to-morrow-going to B, and I think-I hope that you and I will never again meet. We will part friends now, if you will." I took the extended hand; it trembled a little as it lay for an instant passive in mine. "Good-by," was all I could say, for the shock of a great pang seemed to have stunned me. She was lost to me, and I had not known till this moment how I really loved her. I saw her pause at the door and look back, with a strange, troubled light in her eyes, and then she was gone. At eight o'clock next morning I was on the train for the city. A few words had explained to Tom and Carrie my abrupt departure. Carrie actually shed tears, and would have persuaded me to remain, but this I knew better than to do. Dorothy I had a distant glimpse of as she cantered off for a morning's ride, doubtless for the purpose of avoiding me at breakfast. As the shrieking train turned a sharp curve, which would conceal from me the sight of the house where I had so unexpectedly found my fate, I leaned forward for a last look at Dorothy's window. At the moment there was a sudden jar, a wild shout, a crash, and with a roar as of many waters in my ears, I seemed to sink at once into darkness and oblivion. When I opened my eyes I found that kind hands and placed me under the shelter of a huge wood-pile by the railroad track, and were applying water to my face. I was not seriously hurt-only bruised and stunned. The two men hurried off to render assistance to those more in need of it than myself, while I lay back, feeling still too faint to rise. "Where is he?" I heard a voice say, whose tones thrilled through me. It was hurried, eager, and trembling, and yet had a strange, metallic ring, as of intense and suppressed emotion. "He is not dead !" again cried Dorothy, vehemently. "Run, Matthew-run for your life-for his life-for the doctor-for his brother. He is not dead !" Then again she bent low over me, and I felt her warm breath on my cheek. "Arthur, dear Arthur! Oh, my dearest, speak to meI am Dorothy !" She seemed to rely upon the spell of the name. I opened my eyes and looked up into hers, dry but wild with anguish. "I am not hurt, Dorothy," I said, clasping her cold hands in mine. "And if I had been dead, darling, your words would have brought me to life again." For a mo Her pale cheek was crimson enough now. ment she hesitated, but I could see that her great joy and thankfulness overcame her pride and maiden shyness, and she hid her blushing face on my shoulder and wept. She had seen the accident while riding, and knowing that I was on the train, had hastened to inquire after me. And but for that accident I think I should never have won her. A GIRAFFE HUNT IN SOUTH AFRICA. Ir was not long before we organized and started on a fresh expedition. Our camp was situated between two tributaries of the Zambesi, the Longwe and Sepungwe Rivers, which rise in the Matopopo range, and flow in a northerly direction through the Matebele country. The party consisted of my old comrades, Captain Stevenson, Hans and Kleine Van Jansen, their brother-in-law, Schmidt, and two stalwart Boer farmers, Emile and Yacobus Vandermeir, who were noted elephant-hunters. Having left all our heavy gear at Notoanis, Van Jansen's headquarters, we took with us only three lightly laden wagons, containing food supplies and goods for barter; each of us having a couple of salted or seasoned horses for hunting, besides half a dozen dogs of one kind or another, which together formed a numerous, if not a select bobbery pack, that proved most useful in driving animals out of cover, or in engaging their attention and keeping them at bay until the hunters came up. Game of all kinds was very plentiful in this part of the country, and in two months we had killed more than forty elephants, besides rhinoceros, buffalo and other animals. One morning two bushmen came in with the account of a large herd of bull elephants having been seen in a somewhat extensive "vley" near the River Longwe; and the younger Van Jansen, Schmidt and the two Vandermeirs, who happened to be in camp when the news came, immediately started off in pursuit. Stevenson, the elder Van Jansen and myself were absent at the time, having started at break of day after a large herd of buffalo, of which we killed four, and whilst we were cutting up the meat a troop of seven giraffes were seen browsing at no great distance. We immediately girted up our horses and gave chase; after a spurt of quite two miles, at a very fair pace, we each singled out one, and putting on the steam, managed to get alongside, and let drive at the shoulder. I had selected a fine old bull, who seemed to be more "I saw them bring him around here, miss, and then massively built than the others, and "Old Stag," my leave him. Ah, here he is-dead, I'm afraid!" Some one knelt by my side. I felt the close clasp of soft fingers upon my own-a warm breath-the touch of a velvet cheek against mine. "Arthur-Arthur! Oh, my God! he is not, cannot be dead !" I gave no sign. In fact, I doubt whether, in the ecstatic surprise of the moment, I was capable of moving. borse, having soon brought me within easy range on his off-side, I planted a two-ounce ball from a Westley-Richard smooth-bore just behind his shoulder, and followed it up with a second shot in very nearly the same place. To my surprise, however, although I heard both bullets crack loudly against his hide, he made no alteration in his gait, and continued to forge ahead much as before. I had to pull up my nag to reload, a proceeding that in those days took some little time, during which the quarry had got a start of about 300 yards, and I was just commencing a somewhat unpromising stern chase when suddenly the giraffe wheeled round, and came doubling back in my direction at full speed. Being somewhat puzzled at this unexpected stroke of fortune, I rode up just as a large, black-maned lion had fastened upon the scared animal's haunches, and was being carried along. Before my horse got wind of the marauder I let drive a fair double shot at the back of his head, and as I swerved off saw him relax his hold and roll over. My horse now became fidgety, and although he was generally full of courage, on this occasion he seemed to lose his head, and I could not stop him, even by circling round, until I approached Van Jansen and Stevenson, who had each killed his giraffe. I explained the state of things to them, and having reloaded, we followed up the track of my horse's feet for some distance, when we found the lion dead, and the mighty bull in his last agonies a few hundred yards further on. Having put him out of pain, we rode back to camp, and sent some of our people, and the native following who accompanied the expedition | for the sake of the flesh they got, to bring in the lion's spoils, as he was in fine condition, as well as some of the meat. We then heard of the expedition of the rest of the party after elephants, and as they did not put in an appearance at nightfall, we lighted a great fire that might have been seen for some miles round, and fired off guns at intervals during the night to attract their attention to it, in case they had lost their way. The next morning at peep of day, as none of them had shown up, we inspanned and got under way, tracking along their trail, which led toward the Longwe River. After marching until noon we ontspanned at a small "vley," where we scarcely found sufficient water for our cattle. Here we resolved to halt for the night, as our Matebele guides assured us that no water was to be found until we arrived at the river, which was still some considerable distance off. Under these circumstances we arranged that Stevenson should take charge of the camp and people, whilst Van Jansen and I, with two of our after-ridors carrying supplies, food and our blankets, should continue to follow up the track of our companions. THE SEVEN SISTERS. SEVEN daughters had Lord Archibald, Seven sisters that together dwell; Right onward to the Scottish strand Arch boughs above them closing. But now, upstarting with affright, With menace proud and insult loud, The empty house when he comes home; Some close behind, some side to sido, A lake was near; the shore was steep; The solitude of Binnorie! The stream that flows out of the lake, PHOSPHORESCENCE. BY WILLIAM ACKROYD. Is the ineffectual attempt to strike a match in the dark, probably everybody has seen the faintly luminous track that has been left wherever the match has been rubbed; it may likewise have fallen within the experience of many of our readers to see fish that have caused the housewife no small amount of surprise by their shining appearance in the dark pantry, and perhaps both phenomena will remind the seafaring man of a similar light he has seen in the wake of his ship as she has sped through the waters in the darkness of night. The appearance in each case is a pleasing and a striking one, and our interest in it has been increased by the song of the poet and the comment of the philosopher. To the latter, indeed, it has been somewhat of a puzzle, as presenting a kind of light differing from that furnished by sun, moon and stars, or the artificial light-sources that have been devised in these latter days, |