Connecticut western news., 1890-05-21

oAoEoIu SsAA ASu0S, eAo ACeS @no way to small copse, where, against 8 background of frs, table was placed, on which were arranged piles of eggs, and sundry basins, plates and jugs, while one or.two girls were chopping ham and herbs. A small fireplace of bricks had been hastily constructed, the smoke from which was curling in blue wreaths in the summer air, while the center figure of the group was the marchese, who, in costume of white flannel and with serviette round his waist and cap of white paper on his head, was at the moment of the ar rival of our party removing the fry ing pan from the fire and dexterous1y sliding it's contents to dish held by a laughing girl for the purpose.
 Good gracious! it is Giuseppep' P ex- claimed Agnes, turning to her mother.
 My dear, what do you mean2" in- quired Mrs. Sherard, in astonishment. Miss Smythe had hastened toward the group engaged in cookery, and so, for tunately, did not hear the remark.
 Mother" said Agnes, ''it is the handsome little cook who used to be at Vico, when we were in the pension. You would have remembered him if you had heard him sing. We had to ask him te leave off bringing his gui tar out to the terrace in the evenings when you were so ill. :"
 1T recollect him quite well," said Mrs. Sherard, who had been attentively scanning the group.
 ''It is dreadful!" exclaimed Agnes. 'What wicked impostor he is!'
 ''Hush, my dear," said her mother; i've must think of Lady Angela. It would distress her so much if we were to expose him. will consider during luncheon what we can do. Be silent for the present."
 Miss Smythe was beckoning to them, and they joined her, and watched the operations of the amateur cooks, and soon the whole party were seated on the grass. enjoying the al fresco lunch con, and especially the unusual addi- tion of the delicious omelettes. After the meal was concluded the young people rose, and strolled in the lovely glades of the woods, whilst some clus- tered round the marchese, who, seated on a messy mound at the foot of a spreading beech, made most pictur- esque figure, with the colored ribbon of his mandolinetta catching the sun- light as he sang one of his little songs.
 Where did you meet the mar chese" inquired Mrs. Sherard of Lady Angela. "Have you known him longi"
 so intimate, though, that it seems as if he had been our friend for years He was introduced to me by my old friend, Mrs. Hawkins, who met him, I think, in Naples. She wrote asking me to do all I could for her protege. She said should find him very clever but she did not tell me he was so mu- sical."
 "Was he an old friend of hers?'' pursued Mrs. Sherard.
 sShe did not tell me SO; but think he must have been, for she mentioned him as Giuseppe Rondini and did not even say he was marquis. He is such dear fellow" continued the enthusi- astic lady, land am not at all sur prised that my dear Florence has be- come attached to him."
 Is he, then, engaged to your niecea'' inquired Mrs. Sherard, tone of anxie- ty she could not repress finding its way into her voice.
 ''No, not exactly" replied Lady An gela, ''but he is devoted in his atten. tions, and dear Florence confded to me last night that she would have nc hesitation in accepting him; and I feel sure she loves him deeply"
 Perplexed and agitated, Mrs. Sherard f did not pursue the conversation, but determined to lose no time in carrying out the plan that had suggested itself to her at luncheon. She therefore joined the group under the beech tree, and, drawing Agnes aside, explained | to her what she intended to do; then as the music ceased and the singer rose she requested he should be introduced to her, and, while conversing, drew him down charming glade which | led to summer house overlooking the lake, and quite away from the guests Directly they were out of earshot oi the party Agnes said to him in Ital ian: "Giuseppe Rondini, have you forgotten the Pension Signareli a Vico9"
 They were fortunately just within the shelter of the little summer house for the poor marchese, with cry O anguish and gesture of despair, fel | he exclaimed:
 "Oh, signori pity mo. lam of men the most unhappy"
 This behavior on the part of the i'm postor was decidedly unexpected, ant bidding the youth rise Mrs. Sherard in whose kind heart pity strove witt anger, proceeded to question the ex cook.
 'sHow came you here, pretending te be 8 marquis9'' she said sternly.
 "Oh, signora, it has all been mis take," said the poor boy-for he wa: really little more-and great tear, rolled from his large brown eyes anc fell in heavy drops on his claspee hands.
 '"Tell us everything" said Mrs. Sher ard. ''I am anxious to spare Lad, Angela the sorrow 1t would cause he to know how you have deceived her and if you tell me all the truth vii try to help you"
 'Si, signora, said the lad, and striv ing to check his tears he proceeded t tell his story, partly in Italian, partl, in English; and with considerabl help from his kind interlocutors tn following tale was eicited:
 Miladi 'Aukins, as Giuseppe calle' her, had been much pleased with hi cooking while she stayed at the pen sion, and had taken him into her ow1 service. After some months the ill ness of a son compelled her to leav Italy for Egypt, and she promised t aid him in obtaining situation a chef in England. To this end she ha written to enlist the services of Lad Angela, but very hurriedly, and ha ] only asked help for her "clevsr pf<