DEC. 7 
Cite ranr Utisrcllaitg, 
WISHING AND HAVING. 
B. H. STODDABD. 
If to wish and to ha ve were one, my dear. 
Yon would be sittinK’ now 
With not a care on your tender heart, 
Not a wrinkle upon your brow ; 
The clock of time would go back with you 
All the years you have been my wife. 
Till its Koldeu hands liad pointed out 
Tne happiest hour of your life; 
I would stop them at that immortal hour; 
The clock should no longer run; 
You could not bo sad aud sick and old— 
If to wish and to have were one. 
You are not here in the winter, my love, 
The Bnow is not whirling down; 
You are in the heart of the summer woods, 
Iu your dear old sea-side town; 
A patter of little foot in the leaves, 
A beautiful boy at your side; 
Ho 1 b gathering Dowers in the shady nookB 
It was but a dream that he died ! 
Keep hold of bin hands, and sing to him; 
No mother under the sun 
Has such a seraphic child as yours— 
If to wish aud to have were oue. 
Methinlcs I am with you there, dear wife, 
In lhat old house by the sea; 
I have flown to you as the bluebird flies 
To his mate iu the poplar tree. 
A sailor’s hammock hangs at the door. 
You swing iu it, book jn hand; 
A boat is standing in for the beach, 
Its keel grates on the sand; 
Your brothers are coming—two manly men, 
Whose lives have only begun; 
Their days will be long in the land, dear heart 
If to wish and to have are ono. 
If to wish and to have were one, ah, me ? 
I would not be old and poor. 
But a young and prosperous gentleman, 
With never a dun at the door; 
There would bo no past to bewail, my love. 
There would be no future to dread; 
Your brothers would be live men again, 
And my boys would not be dead. 
Perhaps it will come all right at last. 
It may be when all is done, 
We shall be together in some good world, 
Where to wiBh aud to have are one. 
WEAKER THAN A WOMAN. 
CHAPTER XII, 
(Continued from page 707. 
“I must not stay, Felix," she murmured. 
“ No; I will not ask you. My darling, say only 
once more to me the words I love to hear— 1 Felix, 
I belong to you.’ Say it, Violet!” he added with 
sudden passlou. 
“ Felix, I belong to you,” she whispered, and 
ho v.-..u content. He touched the lilac-flowers 
with Ills hand. 
“ Darling,” he said, “ I shall love every lilac 
bloom because It, will remind me ot this night 
and of you. See, there are dew-drops on your 
halrl You must not stay, sweet; you must go 
l n, Violet. You will repeat my name before you 
sleep to-ulgUt, and when you wake? You will 
say 1 Felix—I love Felix, and will be true to 
hlm. ,,, 
“ Yes,” she answered. 
He touched the little golden chain she wore 
round her neck. 
“ I wish 1 were that chain. I wish I were this 
golden ring of hair that lies on j our face. I wish 
—oh, Vloli-L, l am mud with wlsblDg—mad with 
longing J But 1 love yauso dearly." 
in another raluute ho was gone. The moon was 
Bhlulng, the dew lay upon the Ulacs, and Violet 
stood alone, ner heart beating as It had never 
beaten before. 
‘•After all. It Is better to be loved than to be 
rich," she thought—*' it is better to have love than 
riches. I—I wish that 1 hart: always been kinder 
to Felix; but l did not think—l did not under¬ 
stand.” 
She stood for some minutes while the western 
wind cooled the hot flush on her face, and she 
became calmer as she watched the pale light of 
the moon. 
''There la nothing like love,” she repeated; 
“ and there never yet was any love like his for 
me. " 
If the girl’s father and mother suspected any¬ 
thing they made no sign, they said no word, and 
Violet was graterul. 
, It happened three days later that Felix, finding 
he had a leisure hour In the afternoon, went over 
to the Ltmoa. lie took with him a little bouquet 
of roses; they were the ilrst choice ones thut he 
had seen, and he knew that. Violet loved roses. 
He found her at home; and he was reoelved with 
civility, though not with warmth, by her parents, 
violet was pleased with the roses. She praised 
them—she burled her face in them, and Felix 
wished with all his heart that he were one of 
them. 
While ho sat. there, a box came from the Hall. 
Francis llaye was excited about it. It must be 
opened at once—he could not tmaginu what It 
contained. Fulls offored to help, and his offer 
was eagerly accepted. The first thing they saw 
was a magulfleont bouquet—such a bouquet as 
had never been seen In JLUtord—the conservato¬ 
ries if.ust have been robbed to provide It. There 
were camellias, red util white, gardenias, ste- 
phanolls, wUlto heath, Uellotropo, lemon-scented 
verbena—the rarest and loveliest flowers that 
grow, a little white eard was at the side of it— 
a eard which bore the hackneyed quotation, 
“ • Sweets to the sweet.’ For Miss llaye, with Sir 
Owen Uhovenlx’s compliments.” 
Violet gave a Utile cry of delight when Bhe saw 
It. Mrs. Haye took it up in her hands, and, turn¬ 
ing It round, said, In a most Impressive voice— 
This la worth live guineas, at least.” 
THE RURAL NEW-Y&RKER. 
Then they uncovered several bunches of superb 
grapes, some tine peaches and apricots—delica¬ 
cies such as previously Violet had only hoard 
mentioned—also a dozen bottles of choice Ma¬ 
deira for Mr. llaye. 
“It Is very kind of him,” said Francis naye— 
“ wonderfully kind. 1 have never met with any 
one so generous.” 
Aud Fullx, who was far above alt Ignoble Jeal¬ 
ousy, joined in praise ot the Baronet. But when 
violet stoisd at the garden gate alone with him 
he said half sadly— 
“ Whatdoeslt all mean, Violet,7 I cannot un¬ 
derstand It.” For to his mind—so brave, so no¬ 
ble, so Incapable of meanness or wrong—It had 
not yet occurred that any man could deliber¬ 
ately try to take his betrothed wife from hint. 
He would have scorned the notion—he never 
even so faintly suspected It, until It was too 
late. But, as ho stood there—and It was only 
natural—there came to him for a moment a 
passionate longing for wealth. If he could only 
make such presents as those he had Just helped 
to unpack! 
“ Violet,” he said half sadly. " I am afraid my 
roses seem very poor and trilling by the side of 
all Sir Owen’s magnlflcence. My darling. If 1 
could coin my heart’s blood Into gold and lavish 
It upon you, 1 would do so. My poor roses!” 
She laughed a low rippling laugh, that sounded 
very sweetly to him. 
“ Those beautiful flowers will stand In mamma’s 
favorite old china bowl,” she said, “ Look where 
one of your roses Is”—pointing to the bodice of 
her dress; “they shall change places if you 
like." 
A passionate embrace was Felix Lonsdale’s 
only response; and as he walked home that night 
he felt lhat he was the happiest man in the 
world. 
CHAPTER XIII. 
There was no place in England prettier than 
the old parish church at Lllford. It v/as an old 
Norman edifice with quaint square towers and a 
harmonious peal or hells. The church stood on 
rising-ground, and behind It was a grove of oak- 
trees—fine old spreading oiks, that had seen 
many generations of inch and vvomeu come and 
go. Great green hills stretched out on either 
side—hills with quiet little hamlets nestling on 
their wooded slopes; lltllo old-world villages 
were dotted around, and the old church Btood up 
royally on the hlll-stdo. The walls were gray, 
and covered wltit tvy; the old windows were of 
stained glass; Ivy covered the square towers; 
the old porch wltn Its stone seat was a marvel 
of architecture; the path that led to It was bor¬ 
dered by lime-trees; look where one would, one 
saw not hing but ripples of foliage and a gold- 
green light. 
Sunday In Lllford was a day th^t would have 
charmed a poet. The very spirit ot peace and 
rest seemed to brood over the earth, while the 
sweet chime of the Sabbath bells sounded 
through! the venerable oaks. 
So lung as he could remember, Felix had 
always walked home with Violet rrom church; 
when they were children they ran dowu the hills 
in very gladness ot heart, but now they walked 
sedately, Felix almost forgetting the beauty of 
the fair world around him, as he looked Into the 
beautiful face of the youug girl by his sld ;— 
Violet faintly conscious of the admiring glances 
that came from all sides, yet really trying with 
all her heart to disregard them because it was 
Sunday, 
It would hardly have seemed like Sunday to 
Felix If his privilege had been withdrawn. He 
went, as usual, on the first Suuday In June, when 
the old church was looking Its fairest and the 
sunlight on the oak-trees was wonderful to see. 
There was Violet, her boautirul face shining, ho 
thought, like the fuoe of an angel; there was 
Evelyn, looking like a fair, meek saint. Great 
was his surprise to see Sir Owen Cheveulx also. 
It was the flrat time that he had made his appear¬ 
ance at church, and the cougregutlon was just a 
little excited about It. Doctor Hunter, on seeing 
blm there, rondly fancied that lr, xas due to the 
fame ot his effective preaching. Lady Rolte sus¬ 
pected that the charming Lavlnla had lured hlin 
there, but the Vicar's wife, shrewd Mrs. llunter, 
sighed and smiled. “It Is the old story,” she 
said to herself; and men she reproached herself 
for the thought and applied horself to the Pslams. 
Felix did not think much about the matter. He 
was not ashamed to bow bis handsome head, and 
join with all hts heart in the beautiful words or 
the service; but when it was all over he hastened 
to meet Violet. She was standing with her mother, 
and, to Ills surprise, Sir Owen Chevenlx was 
talking to them He gave a careless nod to Felix, 
but continued talking. 
“ r bog that you will lot me drive you home, 
Mrs. Haye," he was saying, “''’o tell you the 
truth, I ordered my carriage on purpose—I did 
indeed. It Is a lovely morning, and if you will 
permit it, we will drive round by Queen’s Ash.” 
He did not look at Violet as he spoke. He knew 
that, whatever ner mother did she must do. 
Felix had taken her hand. Ho did not care if all 
the world heard what he had to say. 
“Yon will not break through the old custom of 
walking homo with me, Violet, or rather of al¬ 
lowing me to walk homo with you?” 
She looked from one to tho other with real dis¬ 
tress In her taco. Sir Owen did not even glance 
at her; he knew that bis cause was safe in Mrs. 
Hayo’B hands. 
“Violet,” said Felix, “you cannot hesitate;” 
and the girl stood staring at him while her 
mother said- 
" Really 1 do not know what answer to give 
yon, sir Owen. 1 do not know what people will 
say." 
“ W by, what does that matter, Mrs. Haye ?” 
“ Well, you see, Sir Owen, Lllford is a small 
place, and ‘everybody’ knows ‘ every thing.’” 
“ My dear lady, what can It matter it aU the 
world knows of this? I shall be very proud of 
the honor, I assure you. Lady Rolfe would not 
require so much pressing.” 
The last words, vulgar as was the spirit which 
dictated them, quite determined Mrs. Haye. Evi¬ 
dently, ir Bhe did not go with him, he would drive 
Lady Rolfe and her daughter. She simpered a 
little. 
“ Since you are so kind, we will accept your 
offer,” she said. “ It will certainly be very pleas¬ 
ant. I always tell Mr. Haye that the one thing I 
want to make me perfectly happy Is a carriage. 
Now, violet.” 
“ Violet will allow me to escort her, Mra. Haye," 
suggested Felix. 
“ Oh. no,” replied Mrs. Haye, “ Violet must 
come with me ! I cannot go alone and leave Vio¬ 
let with you. Another time, Felix, you Bhall be 
her escort. Sir Owen has been kind enough to 
order his carriage for us ; It would be really im¬ 
polite to refuse. We will say good morning to 
you now.” And she watched him while he shook 
hands with her and then with Violet. 
His handsome young face had grown white 
even to the Ups ; but whar, could he do ? He was 
a gentleman ; he could not make a “ scene ;” he 
could nor take tho girl from her mother’s side 
against her will; he bad no carriage with roan 
steeds, and coachmen and footmen In livery. 
What could he do ? Only one thing, it violet 
was to go In the carriage he himself would put 
her Into It. The Biro net’s hand should not touch 
oven his darling’s dress. 
So he walked by her side down the avenue of 
limes, and they reached the high road where the 
carriage stood. There were many curious eyes 
watching them. Lady Rolfe and the fair Lavlnla 
looked on In angry tudlgnatton. 
“ What, does that girl mean by encouraging air 
Owen?” said the mother. “.Surely one lover 
ought to bo enough for her. Felix Lonsdale must 
be blind.” 
" Perhaps ho cannot help himself, mamma,” 
returned the philosophical daughter, and In that 
she was right. 
When Felix had helped violet into the car¬ 
riage, ho bent over her to arrange her dress. 
“ Darling, you would sooner have walked home 
wltn me would you not ?” 
" Yes, I would," she replied ; and after that the 
disappointment was not quite so hard to bear. 
He turned away without a word or a bow to Sir 
Owen. 
“ This Is pleasant,” said Mre. Hijye, as the car¬ 
riage rolled swiftly along the high road. “ vio¬ 
let, ot all the luxuries of lire give ine a carriage.” 
The luxury and grandeur were certainly very 
pleasant; while the novelty delighted violet. 
Sir Owen did nothing to alarm her. He talked 
to Mrs. naye, while lie merely looked at violet. 
He was wonderfully solicitous that she should 
be i '.rutortable, and there was but one drawback 
to violet’s pleasure, the memory of the pain on 
her lover’s face. 
“ How I wish Felix had a carriage!” she said 
to hen*e*f. •* But that will novrr be.“ 
She enjoyed her rather’s surprise when the 
horses stopped at the Limes, and she wondered 
what her mother meant when she said— 
“ If I had a chance of keeping such a carriage 
as that, I should not lightly throw it away.” 
CHAPTER XIV. 
it wa3 a bright day m June, the lilies and roses 
were all in flower, the laburnums were in the 
full perfection of their goldeu glory, and again 
the sun at noon-day round air Owen at the Limes. 
Hi had discovered Violet in the garden dreaming 
Idly amongst the rosea. It was a picturesque, 
old-fasMoned garden, with qualut-looklng seats 
under the trees aud a pretty arbor ot trellis-work 
iu the back-ground. Sir Owen professed himself 
so charmed with it that he would not go Into the 
house, and Mr. and Mrs. Haye went out to meet 
him there. 
After the first greetings were over he turned to 
Violet. 
“ iHsa Haye," ne said, “ I have come on pur¬ 
pose to see you. Do you remember our conver¬ 
sation about a fete in the park 7 You said that 
you thought It would be very pleasant. 
Violet looked up with animation. 
“Yes, 1 remember." she replied. “I had for¬ 
gotten It.” 
“ 1 have come to say that It It pleases you 1 will 
give orders tor everything to be prepared for It. 
What do you say ?” 
She looked at him with a curious expression on 
her face, while her father and mother glanced at 
each other. 
“ What do I say ?” she echoed. “ I have noth¬ 
ing to say. Sir Owen, but that I have no doubt It 
will be very pleasant.” 
Sir Owen looked disconcerted. After a pause, 
he added— 
“ But you do not understand. It I give the fete 
at all, it will bo in your honor and to please you. 
Everything in it snail be as you wish—you shall 
choose your own amusements—Indeed, you shall 
be the queen of It. Now what do you say ?” 
M rs. Haye frowned at her daughter. 
“ You must really show some little Interest In 
It, violet,” she said, “since Sir Owen is so good 
as to consult you.” 
“ ‘ Consult '—that Is Just the right word, Mrs. 
Haye—thank you. That reminds me," he added, 
with a smile, “ Lady Rolte told me to consult her 
when I found myselt lu any difficulty.” 
violet looked up with an air of great relief. 
“I wish you would,” she said. “She knows 
far more about suen matters thau I do." 
“ But you see It Is your opinion I want, not 
hers,” said Sir Owen. “ I thought of this—a Jett 
In the park, and, to wind up with, a grand ball in 
the house. We could, have Pearson’s quadrille 
band from London; and I thought of sending to 
Gunter for the supper. What do you think of 
It?” 
Her beautiful face paled a little and then flush¬ 
ed up. 
“ I think It would be most delightful,” she re¬ 
plied.” 
“Though Mr. Haye is an Invalid, still he would 
like to see everything going on,” continued Sir 
Owen. “Perhaps he, Mrs. Hxye and yourself 
would cbme to the Hall on the day before the fete, 
and stay until the day after.” 
“I Bhould like it very much,” declared Mr. 
Haye. “ I have not had such a treat for years." 
“Nor have 1,” said his wife. “1 cannot Im¬ 
agine anything that I should like better.” 
After that violet could make no objections. 
“ But you must grant me one favor." continued 
Sir Owen—“you must promise to open the ball 
with me." 
Again the girl’s beautiful face flushed and then 
paled; but her mother looked Impatiently at her. 
“ Why do you hesitate, Violet ?” she said. “ It 
is au honor of which any lady In the county 
might be proud.” 
“You consent, then?” pursued Sir Owen. 
“ Yes, I am willing," she replied. Inwardly 
dreading all that Felix would say about It, yet 
half delighted with the Idea. 
“ And I have your sanettou for all that I do. Is 
there anythtng you wish to suggest In the way of 
Improvement ?” 
“ No, I think not,” she replied, more than half 
frightened. 
“ What do you say to Tuesday week 7 ” he ask¬ 
ed. “Then I can drive over here and take you 
all to Garswood on the Monday. Lady Rolfe will 
stay two days; we shall be quite a pleasant little 
party. I may rely upon you ?” 
*' Yes,” agreed Violet, still somewhat nervous; 
then, looking up at him quite suddenly, “ Why 
do you set score by my opinion and sanction?’ 
she asked. “Ido not know anything of these 
matters; Ido not understand wny you consult 
ine.” 
Sir Owen laughed a loud, hearty laugh that was 
music to the ears of Francis Haye and his wife. 
" I have a reason," he replied, “ and a very 
serious one; I will speak to you about It later 
on." 
She could not imagine to what he alluded, and 
Mrs. naye listened In silence. 
Sir Owen showed her a list of names. 
“ 1 thought of sending Invitations to these peo¬ 
ple,” he said, “ir there are any among them 
you do not like, strike them out; If there are any 
you wish to ask, sdd them." 
•She read Che tong list of names, and then pro¬ 
duced her little pencil-case; she added two more 
—those ot Evelyn Lester and Felix Lonsdale. 
“ That is her lover,” thought Sir Owen, as he 
looked reflectively at them. “ Well, he may come 
—It will save trouble. When he sees ail that he 
will see, he will be taught a lesson.” 
Violet was more pleased and contented when 
he smiled. She did not know why she felt so 
gTeatly relieved. 
Then sir Owen rose to take his leave; he was 
going to London that evening, he said, and it 
would be some days before he would see them 
again. He asked violet to go with him to the 
garden-gate; and again, when Mrs. Haye saw 
the peculiar expression on heir husband’s face 
she whispered— 
“ Not one word, Francis Haye, not one word, or 
you will spoil it alland he obediently held his 
peace. 
They saw a look of perplexity on violet’s beau¬ 
tiful face all that day, and she had lost her ani¬ 
mation, She fell Into long fits of musing- she 
was unlike herself; but no word from father or 
mother helped her in her difficulty, or solved 
her doubts. 
Felix had been quite pleased about his Invi¬ 
tation ; he smiled and thoughr. to himself how 
foolish he had been. What could be more natu¬ 
ral than that Sir Owen should airaire his beauil- 
rul violet? He could not help it; he told him¬ 
self that he had been unreasonably Jealous, that 
here was a proof otit. If Sir Owen had enter¬ 
tained any false, dishonorable notion of sup¬ 
planting him in violet’s affections, here was a 
proorthathe had changed his mind. Another 
and more generous Idea still came to him— 
namely, that sir Owen hart not known at flrat 
that violet was engaged, and hence had admired 
her; but, that, now that he did know it, he had 
changed his ideas. 
“Someone nas told him,” thought generous 
Felix, “and that is why he invites me.” 
This noble-hearted man could not Imagine a 
fellow-man holding out one hand with a smile, 
while he clutched a dagger m the other. He was 
sorry tor having misjudged him, and thought to 
himself that ou tho day ot ttieyfeto hd* would seek 
out, sir Owen, aDd shake hands with him. So, to 
violet’s great relief there was no cloud on his 
face when he told her that he would be pleased 
to attend the Me. 
But he looked very thoughtful when violet 
told him of the Invitation. 
“Ido not want to go.” she said—“I do not 
like Lady Rolfe; besides, I do not see the use of 
making friends with all these great people—It 
cannot last.” 
“You really do not care to go there, violet?” 
he asked. 
“No not to the hall. I shall enjoy the fete, but 
I snail not enjoy the visit.” 
Felix drew near to her. 
“ violet,” he whispered, “ you will not think me 
Jealous or disagreeable?" 
“ No,” she replied. 
“ 1 want You to do something tor me. I am 
puzzled. Sometimes l think sir Owen must 
know that we are engaged—sometimes 1 fancy 
he does not; y et he must know." 
" I should Imagine that he does know—every 
one round here knows; he would be sure to hear 
It spoken of.” 
“ A 108 !- probably. But, Violet, let us make sure 
of It—tell blm yourself, sweet. He will be quite 
sure to talk to you, and It will be so easy ; just 
a few little words, and then all my suspense 
will be ended—indeed I have not felt at all anx- 
oua about it, since I received this Invitation* 
