Connecticut western news., 1890-05-21

to tell his own tale of his capabilities and requirements.
 But how was it possible you were taken for marquis9'' inquired Mrs. Sherard at this point
 "Ah, signoral there is my folly my sin p and the youths tears began to stream afresh, as he explained that the envelope in which he carried his cards with Giuseppe Rondini, Cuci- niere. :" on them contained also card of his patron, the Marchese di San Floriano, who had kindly permit ted him to use his name if reference was required This card he had given in mistake for his own to Lady An gelas footman, who in stentorian tones had announced him by that title to.a roomful of ladies and gentlemen, who were slipping afternoon tea on the very day when Lady Angela had re- ceived the letter from Mrs. Hawkins about her ''clever protege."
 II did not understand at first what had happened, explained poor Giu- seppe, "and when I did I lacked the courage to speak. The lady was so kind, all the signori were so good, that it was just like masquerade, and it seemed so easy to be marchese in Inghliterra. l did not mean to go on in deceit, but every day made it more difficult to reveal the truth; and oh, miladi, 'elp me, forgive mel' he con tinued, turning his tear laden eyes first to one lady, then to the other. "But fear the English sonora she be- lieve lof herl but do not am so frightened when l. think of it; and her uncle he talk to me and ask me of my 'famiglia, and know not what to dor
 Indeed, Giuseppe, said Mrs. Sher- ard as he concluded, "you have been very wicked, but I hope you did not know how wrong it was, and for Lady Angela's sake I will help you. You must write tomorrow to her and say you regret you cannot see her again. ;"
 'But cannot write," said poor Giu- seppe, land Iknow not how to say it. !"
 7'How then h,ye you replied to Lady Angela's notes2" inquired Agnes.
 ''I do go to man who writes letters for Italians" was the answer. "He lives in place where there are many of us; they do call it Lester squarr." "Where do you live and how have you been able to dress and present so good an appearance2'' was the next in- quiry.
 "Ah!'' said Giuseppe, my uncle at Vico he died and left me his little money that might travel to England and become chef de cuisine, and had my wages from Miladi 'Aukins, who was generous like all English ladies' l Then the marchese gave me clothes many clothes His son, my foster brother, is dead and I { wear these !" said he, as he touched his garments. But my money is nearly gone, and I know not what to do I have been a 'miserable' ever since I saw the signora in London; felt she would remember mel"
 Mrs. Sherard did not prolong the conversation, and cautioning Giuseppe he should plead headache to account for his depression of spirits and woe begone appearance, the trio rejoined the party.
 The sequel is soon told. Mrs. Sher- ard obtained good situation for Giu- seppe in the house of friend in York shire, who possessed large establish ment, and thither the youth betook himself week or two after the mem orable picnic. becoming light hearted again as soon as he found himself in his proper sphere and once more sur rounded by his congenial pots and pans; while his absence was account ed for to Lady Angela in some beauti- fully written letters, announcing first the ''indisposition" and the departure foaan appointment" of the marchese, who deeply deplored his inability to bid adieu in person to his 'stimatis- slime signorina."
 It is to be hoped that no freak of fate or fortune will send Miss Flor ence Smythe to the kitchen of Barton Towers, the Yorkshire mansion where Giuseppe now yields the frying pan, or will ever introduce her to the real Marchese di San Floriano, who has en- joyed hearty laugh over the comics sion of Giuseppe Rondini, sent by com mand of Mrs. Sherard. Miss Smythe posed during the whole of the winter as the victim of an unfortunate roman tic attachment, but according to latter accounts is now consoled by the atten tions of German graf, with a name as long as his beard, the possessor o1 vast estates in Pomerania.--Ca Cassell's Family Magazine.