Year: 1874

with all due Difference to your opin-


ions, gentlemen" said the doctor, with a


smile of meaning, as he brushed the


ashes from his cigar, Il have known one


left-handed marriage, at least, to have


been crowned with the happiest re-


suits"


Dr. Heathcote had commenced life as
an Assistant Surgeon in the Royal Navy.
junior grade, promotion-that happy fru-
ition of the hopes and aims of Jealous
officer-had satisfied his aspirations, and,
to all seeming his lifelong home was to
be on the sea. The very unexpected
death of relative, as yet in early man
hood and unmarried, had, however,
changed his prospects. He now found
himself the possessor of a princely es-
tate, with dazzling rent-roll; and, as a
matter of course, his naval service was
at once abandoned for the duties and re-
sponsibilities of his new position. Yet,
so strong is the influence of habit, the
doctor could not entirely give up his nau
tical wont; and his yacht was his ready
friend when the inclination was upon
him. A happy union, followed by a full
culver, had crowned his contentment
and he had become as thorough repre-
sentative of the good old country squire
as one would wish to meet.


1t was on board the Undine-which he
had so christened from the sweet Ger
man story of that name-that the nara
| tive which follows was related. An
agreeable party had been made up for a
cruise to the north coast of Ireland; and
the Giants Causeway, and the whilom
whereabouts of the charming Kitty of
Coleraine, had been especially done by
all, and sketched from every possible
point of view by the younger and more
enthusiastic of the visitors. While on
shore newspaper had ..,een procured,
which contained the announcement of
the left-handed marriag # His Serene
Highness the Grand Y, # Culmback,
and this had become ~ ~ &c of after
dinner conversatieafroppe 1- Ilndine
lay quietly at anci 7aiting next
mornings light for departure.


1t would appear the Doctors
opening remark that II, 41ighness had
not quite escaped the ensure OF our
amateur mariners; but, Ias the Grand
Dukes was not the story the Doctor told,
this must, for the preseat at least, re-
main an open question. Z


Dear me!' said the Doctor, in ready
response to the unanimous call for the
tale they knew would be forthcoming,
chow time flies, to be sure. 1t seems but
yesterday that the marriage took place,
and now their eldest boy is looking for a
wife of his own.


Il venture to say that few rivals had
Mary Euston when she was in her hey
day Her beauty was of that character
to which the word superb seems only
applicable The only child and heress
of Sir Edward Euston, whose broad acres
lay in the most picturesque corner of
Deershire, you may be sure she had
wooers by the score; aye, and more than
one coronet was laid at her feet. But
Mary seemed absolutely indifferent to
the sights and pleading of her numerous
admirers. And so the world OF the day
was startled by the whisper that young
officer Of the Buff Fusileers, whose only
patrimony was long pedigree and
handsome person, had found favor with
| heart which rank and wealth had be-
sieged in vain. Now, when this came to
Sir Edwards ears, you may imagine what
gall and wormwood it was. 1t was but
natural that, considering how charming
a creature his daughter confessedly was,
and the wealth which was to accrue to
her fortunate choice, her fathers hopes
for her settlement in life should be am
bilious; and the very thought of her
| throwing herself away on poor Cap
tain of marching regiment was simply
| intolerable.


Mary had met her bowld soger-boy at
| a race ball and two dances with her had
gone further in reaching the citadel than
the well-laid trains and crafty engineer
ing Of all her host of lovers. Deprived
of mothers care-for Lady Euston died
| when her daughter was but two years
old-she had grown to consult her
own will; and her fathers excessive in
diligence had encouraged the habit. At
| first Sir Edward could bring himself to
do no more than to inquire of his daugh-
ter, as if in surprise, whether or no there
was any foundation for the rumor which
had SO painfully distressed him; and,
when Mary unhesitatingly acknowledged
that she felt herself interested in the
gallant young gentleman the fond
fathers feelings may easily be imagined.
| Gentle remonstrance was at last followed
by stern authority, and Mary was posi-
lively forbidden to continue the acquaint
ance. And here, regret to say, Mary
was guilty of sad disobedience. She saw
no reason why she should not like people
if she liked them, or hate them if she
hated them. If she ever married-and
the thought was not SO very improbable
she did not know why she should not
marry to please herself, and not those
fussy old frumps called lin the aggre-
gate) society. And when all this passed
through her mind, in open violation Of
the paternal wish, it must be acknowl-
edged that she was very self-willed girl
indeed. And SO she continued to dance
with her fascinating young pauper (as her
father called him, much to her disgust);
and the acquaintance, so far from being
broken of, was absolutely advancing at
a tolerably rapid rate, and an engage
ment seemed imminent


"There was no help for it but in fight.
Sir Edward announced his intention of
travelling for short time on the Cont
nent, and Mary was induced to accom-
pany him; for his heslth was anything
but good, and her presence seemed to
him the necessity Qf his life. do not