Stitfrarv ^iartUang, 
LINES.—TO THE FIRST FLY OF 1879. 
Dance on my nose with your tickling feet, 
Blue-bottle fly! 
Sing in my ears with your buzz to greet 
Me, as I lie. 
You will seek me out in my dark retreat. 
With an eager zeal that no screen can beat, 
And I try to slap you clear into the sweet. 
Sweet bye and bye. 
I haven't seen you since seventy-eight. 
Little housefly; 
And I see you uow with the bitterest hate 
You can defy. 
Oh, how I hate yon, nobody knows, 
Author of half of my summer woes; 
Oh, how I prayed that you might be froze, 
Yillainous fly! 
All through the winter you did not freeze, 
Not much, Mary Ann. 
Now all the summer you'll do as you please. 
That is your plan. 
When in the warm afternoons we would sleep. 
Near us your wakefulest vigils you'll keep. 
Precious is sleeping, but waking is cheap. 
Bleep, man, if you can. 
Oh. how I wish that my two broad hands, 
Spread left and right. 
Stretched from the poles to Equator's bands, 
Giants of might; 
Some summer day in my wrath I would rise. 
Sweeping ail space with my bands of size, 
And mash all the uncounted millions of flies 
Clear out of sight. 
Vain are my wishes. Oh, it tie house fly! 
You’re hard to mash; 
Strong men may swear and women may cry, 
“Teething their gnash; 
But into the house your friends you’ll lug: 
You’ll bathe your feet in the sirup jug. 
And your cares you’ll drown in the baby's mug. 
Cheeky and brash. 
Still, precious lessons, dear little house fly, 
You teach to mo. 
Hated or loved, you tell mo that I 
Happy may be. 
Why should I care, when I tickle a nose. 
Whether its owner’s conduct shows 
That he likes it or hates it, just so it goes 
Pleasant to mo .—[Hawkeye- 
* This should read " Gnashing their teeth,” but a lit¬ 
tle poeticlicense wasnecessary to bring itin tbe rhyme. 
AN UGLY GIRL. 
(Continued from page 331.) 
CHAPTEK XIX. 
COCLI) IT BE TRUE? 
The abruptness of Mr. Dunfortli’s Inquiry was 
not so startling to Noel as the words In which it 
was couched. At one and the same time he was 
surprised, displeased, and penetrated with a sharp 
pang oi suspicion. 
Who and what was llllllan Gray? The answer 
to that seemed simple enough. She was an orphan, 
who through her relationship to Mrs. Hurst, the 
heiress’s duenna, had obtained the post oi com¬ 
panion to Miss Carlsforde; and, In her conver¬ 
sations with Noel, she had referred once or twice 
to the quiet life spent at the country house in which 
the late lord had Immured the daughter, whose 
ugliness he could not endure. She had also spoken 
of the sorrowful weeks that followed their hasty 
summons to the Park; but It was also true that 
she had never lifted the veil trom her earlier years. 
She was an orphan, and Mrs. durst was the only 
relative she possessed ; this was all that Noel knew 
concerning her. Yet another had recognized her 
and boasted that the present was not their first 
rencontre. Why did it pain him so much to be told 
this ? Why did he feel that it. would have annoyed 
him less to hear her name on auy other lips than 
those of Clement Uunforth 7 
Where could they have met. Clement was a 
Londoner, who rarely quitted the metropolis, 
nilllan Gray—as long, at all events, as she had 
held her present situation—had dwelt in the great¬ 
est seclusion. There was something so perplexing 
In the aBair. that Noel could not resist putting lu 
a few questions in his turn. 
“ I suppose ray sister has told you what position 
Miss Gray occupies here ? Are you sure that you 
have seen her before ?" 
“ Quite sure; hers la one of those faces not easily 
forgotten," was the emphatic reply. 
“ But where have you met?” 
“ In town.” said Clement, curtly. 
“ImpossibleI MlsS Carlsforde resided till lately 
in a village in Devonshire, and ililllanGray was 
her constant companion." 
“ Possibly. But it, is two years since I saw the 
young lady. YOU seem to be so completely lu her 
confidence, that I wonder she has not spoken to 
you of a certain time when she most decidedly was 
not residing at the obscure village you mention.'' 
Noel felt embarrassed by the disagreeable sig¬ 
nificance with which this was said, but his annoy¬ 
ance made him answer with promptitude that 
he was uot la Miss Gray's confidence at all, and 
therefore he saw nothing surprising in her silence 
concerning her own affairs. 
“If you are. so well acquainted with her as you 
profess to be,” he added, “why did you question 
me?” 
Clement smiled, and seemed quite amused by 
the Irritable tone Noel was taking. 
“ \ r ou are laboring under a mistake. 1 have not 
boasted of any acquaintance with Miss Gray; I 
merely told you that I recognized ihe young lady 
again, and seeing her here—the last place where I 
should have dreamed of encountering her—made 
me naturally feel curious to learn by what, name 
she Is known to you.” 
By what. name! Those words seemed to Imply 
that llllllan had stooped to a deception, and it was 
with darkening brow that Lord Carlsforde com¬ 
mented upon them, 
“ That was rather an equivocal speech, Mr. Dun- 
E RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
forth, and as Miss Gray holds the post of compan¬ 
ion to my kinswoman, I think I am Justified In 
asking you to explain It.” 
“ I know nothing to Miss Gray’s discredit,” an¬ 
swered Clement, quickly, “ except— ” 
Aud then he made so long a pause that Noel’s 
Impatience became Intolerable. 
“ For Heaven’s sake continue. But no! I will 
hear no more! 1 could stake my life that nilllan 
Gray Is as good and pure as she appears. Why 
should I pry Into any sorrow or trouble she wishes 
to keep concealed?” 
“I beg your pardon; I thought your anxiety to 
hear the little I had to tell was prompted by no 
personal feelings, but consideration for M lss Carls- 
forde.” 
Noel felt the blood ru3h Into his face, for Clement 
Dunlortn spoke with a. sneer and a significant 
glance that was not pleasant. 
“ Both reelings have weight with me,” he frank¬ 
ly replied. “ I lie under great obligations to Miss 
Gray, and rememberLug this, I repeat that I 
would rather hear no more; unless you, as an 
honorable man, feel that there Is aught which I, 
as Miss Carlsforde’s friend and kinsman, ought to 
know.” 
Clement shrugged his shoulders. 
“ How am I to answer this? It was only on two 
occasions that I saw Miss Gray, till I arrived here 
yesterday; once in a lawyer’s office, where I might 
not have noticed her—lor I was only there to de¬ 
liver a message—If she had not been weeping ex¬ 
cessively, and begging some boon with clasped 
hands from the head of the firm; the other time— 
don’t be shocked—was near St. Giles’s, and Miss 
Smith, as she then called herself, was In the hands 
of the police.” 
“Great Heavens! on what pretext?” 
“ I really can’t say. I heard something about a 
stolen chain—a gold one, with a diamond cross 
appended; but such cases are so common In the 
streets or London, and a crowd so soon collects, 
that I did not stay to hear more. Of course the 
little girl may have been Innocent; but you can¬ 
not led surprised, after this, that I was considera¬ 
bly startled on finding her here, and under another 
name.” 
He went away when he had whispered the last 
lew words, leaving Noel alternately hot and cold 
with dismay. Hllllan, the gentle, right-minded 
llllllan, whom he had been Inclined to regard as a 
pattern of women, a thief t Incredible! It was— 
it must be a case ox mistaken Identity. He would 
himself tell her or the young lawyer’s foolish mis¬ 
take, and they would have a hearty laugh over it. 
together. 
He was eager for an opportunity of doing this; 
but Jephson stubbornly refused to leL him have 
any more visitors, alleging, with truth, that the 
long conference with Mr. Dunforth had leit him 
with all those feverish and restless symptoms Dr. 
Monson was endeavoring to allay. Battled by his 
attendant’s firmness, and his own helpless condi¬ 
tion, Noel feigned to submit, and presently con¬ 
trived to obtain one concession. Jephson consent¬ 
ed to set his door ostensibly ajar, that the room 
might be cooler; he did not guess that his charge's 
actual reason for asking this was that he might be 
able to hear the light foot of LJilllau pass by, when 
she came up stairs to make a few changes In her 
simple toilet, before the bell rang for dluner. 
Fortune favored his wishes. Jephson, deceived 
by his silence and closed eyes Into the belief that 
he was sleeping, went off guard tor ten minutes 
to enjoy a whiff of tobacco In his pantry , and had 
scarcely disappeared when the step for which 
Noel listened drew near. 
lie raised himself on Ills elbow, and Ills beseech¬ 
ing “Miss Gray pray come here!” was answered 
by her appearance at the door. 
“ Don’t ask me to come further,” she said, with 
a pensive smile, as she flung him a lovely little 
bunch of autumn flowers. “ It you had heard 
Jephson's tirade on the mischief our thoughtless 
chattering has done your lordship, you would not 
wonder that we tremble to approach you again.” 
“Jephson is an old Idiot, and makes me worse 
by penning me up here,” was the vehement reply. 
“My own thoughts only harass and excite me, 
Into forgetfulness of them.” 
"If you think so—If 1 might read aloud-” 
“ No—no, 1 want to converse with you. Remem¬ 
ber that you are the only person in the house 
with whom l can hold any rational conversation.” 
“True; that accounts for what you said just 
now.” Hllilau replied, the glow fading from her 
cheek; “ but Dr. Monson forbids-” 
He would not let her finish. 
" Dr. Monson does not know how terrible It is to 
lie here brooding over circumstances whleh worry 
me by my Inability to find an explanation for 
them; unless, Indeed, you—yes, you—consent to 
help me.” 
llllllan gazed at him uneasily, as if his agitated 
manner and strange expression Inclined her to 
fancy that he was light-headed, and she came aud 
stood at the foot of the bed. 
“My dear Lord Carlsforde ’ she said, soothingly 
“you are to blame to worry yourself tn this way 
respecting your sister's future. Mr. Duutortli can¬ 
not ref use to wait for your decision till you are 
quite recovered: until then, pray try to dismiss 
the subject front your mind. May l give Irene a 
hint that your arc really not well enough to dis¬ 
cuss it yet awhile ?” 
Then she Imagined that It was of Irene he was 
thinking, lie did not stay to undeceive her; tor 
Jephson might return at any moment, and It 
would be terribly exasperating lo let her leave 
him with Ids doubts uusolved. 
•• You have not told me what you thtnk of Mr. 
Dunforth ? By-the-way, this Is not the first time 
you and he have met ?" 
llllllan opened her eyes widely. 
“ What makes you say this ? Mr. Dunforth is a 
stranger to me—quite a stranger.” 
“ You are sure ol' It?” demanded Noel. “And 
yet he spoke of recognizing you.” 
Hllllan recoiled, and grew rosy red; then her 
face as suddenly blanched, and her voice was 
tremulous, as she faltered ; 
“ No, no—impossible! You would not speak In 
this way, If you knew; but wbat did he say con¬ 
cerning me 7” 
“Could he tell me anything which you would 
not like me to hear ?” asked Noel, In tones as un¬ 
certain, as t roubled as her own. 
The silence t hat followed made his heart sink. 
Was Dunforth right ? and were there mysteries in 
this girl’s life that savored of degradation and 
shame? He lay back on hla pillows, breathing 
heavily, and afraid to ask more. 
“Will you kindly answer my question, Lord 
Carlsforde?” she said, presently; and then Noel 
remembered that he had no right to catechise her 
—that, it was dl she noruble to attempt to make her 
criminate herself. Whatever she might have done, 
to him she had been so kind, so attentive, that the 
line of conduct Clement Du nforth’s revelations had 
tempted hlrn to pursue was Inexcusable. 
“I bog your pardon, Miss Gray; I am selfishly 
forgetting that I—1 am detaining you. Did you 
ask what Mr. Dunforth told me ? It was this: he 
said that he believed he had seen j ou twice In 
London about two years since.” 
illlllan’s perturbed face was almost sufficient 
reply, 
“ I can neither recall his features nor his name,” 
she said, in tones so low. that her auditor could 
barely distinguish them. 
“Probably not; as he says they were chance 
meetings. Shall I tell you where he saw you ?” 
But Hllllan extended her bands with an Implor¬ 
ing cry. 
“ No. no; let me forget the miserable weakness— 
the folly which I have never ceased to repent ? I 
hoped that no one—no one whose respect I prize— 
would ever know, ever hear—” 
She broke down In sobs, and fled the room. 
CHAPTER XX. 
WITH IRENE. 
When Jephson came back, he found Lord Carls¬ 
forde lying In much the same position as he had 
left him, and did not notice that his face was press¬ 
ed into the pillow, or his hands tightly olenolied, 
and his whole frame frequently convulsed with 
emotion. How could he, ignorant of what had 
happened during his absence, guess that Noel— 
when, from IlUllans half-made confeaslon, he 
learned of her unworthiness—discovered at one 
and the same moment that she was so very dear to 
him, that It was agony to be forced to despise her? 
She was so sweet, so gentle, she so completely re¬ 
alized in all but beauty his Ideal of woman, that 
Insensibly she had stolen Into his alTeeUons; and 
every moment of her absence had been employed 
in recalling what she had said, or how she had 
looked, and counting the hours that must elapse 
berore he would agalu behold her—In fact, he could 
not hide from himself that he lo^'d her, but with 
so quiet, so equable an affection, that he lind not 
guessed Its existence till the miserable hour In 
which he learned that Hllllan was not what she 
seemed. 
Then he became furiously angry with himself 
for having yielded to such weakness. What ex¬ 
cuse had be—penniless, and encumbered with Mis. 
Esteourt and her children—to waste his time in a 
romantic fancy for a young girl whom he had 
never seen tilt he came to carlsforde ? Did he not 
deserve all the vexation and disappointment It was 
entailing upon him? 
“ Let, me be thankful,” he told himself, with 
quivering lips, “heartily thankful that Hllllan 
Gray Is not all my Imagination painted her. Now 
that 1 am disenchanted. I shall soon contrive to 
forget that she was very dear to me. But, If I had 
remained In Ignorance of the truth, what might not 
have ensued? At some unguarded moment I 
should have confessed my love—I, who must not, 
dare not, think of marrying till my father’s second 
wife aud her lltt le ones are provided tor. It would 
have beeu madness to try to win the heart of a 
young creature to whom I had nothing but a title 
to offer!" 
But presently Noel, growing more, composed, 
came under the dominion of softer feelings. Per¬ 
haps he was judging Hllllan Gray too harshly. 
She had been powerfully alTected by the allusion 
to those events of which the particulars were 
known only to herself; but. In her Incoherent ex¬ 
clamations, the word “Guilt ” had certainly had 
no part. She had declaimed against her own con¬ 
duct, and expressed her grief that It should have 
become known; but was It at all likely that a girl, 
who In the daily Intercourse of the last few weeks 
had Invariably proved both right-minded and re¬ 
fined. would allude to a crime, a positive crime, as 
a mere folly ? 
“ 1 will wait till 1 know more,” he decided. “ it 
would be a base return for her ministrations, if I 
were the first to look coldly upon her for some 
deed committed In the past, and bitterly repented. 
Clement Dunforth may have done me a good turn 
In opening my eyes to the truth, but lie shall uot 
lower her in my estimation or that of others. Uls 
tongue shall not run as glibly to strangers as it did 
to mo.” 
But, as he resolved to sternly give Irene’s lover 
warning of this. Ills brows contracted, for could he 
not divine how It would be received ? Would not 
the astute, self-possessed lawyer demand to know 
In what way he had satisfied his conscience that It 
was right to permit a person like Hill (an to con¬ 
tinue to hold a position of trust In Miss Carisforde’s 
household ? And how could he answer ? 
“ Gillian herself must tell me all. and enable me 
to defend her," he exclaimed; and, although the 
next moment found him doggedly declaring that it 
was no business of his. he soon returned to his 
former determination. 
lie would seek to wlu her confidence, or wait 
patently till she volunteered an explanation; and 
this he was the more Inclined to think she would 
do, because he Balt sure she must have detected In 
his looks and words how much It had cost him to 
hear a slur cast upon her. 
By dint of a great deal of coaxing, Irene on the 
morrow procured permission from Dr. Monson to 
visit her brother; the grave, but kindly Doctor, 
who was half ashamed of yielding against his bet¬ 
ter judgment, first extorting a promise that she 
would not touch upon any exciting topics. 
Irene thought she was strictly keeping her 
pledge when the first question she put to Noel was, 
what did he think of his determined opposition to 
to the match ? a piece of til-nature Tor which, by- 
the-bye, she had scarcely forgiven him. 
“ You foolish child! Was I suffered to have a 
voice In the affair ? Was It not arranged before I 
had an idea that it was in contemplation ?” 
“Oh! don’t go over that old grievance again,” 
she entreated, “nave it out with ma, and let you 
and I stick to the pleasanter things.” 
“ Does Mr. Dunforth approve of your talking In 
this Inelegant style ?” her brother demanded. 
“ Why, that’s worse and worse!” objected Irene. 
“ Please to leave toy errors of language alone, and 
answer what I asked. What do you think ot 
Clement?" 
“He appears to be a very shrewd, prudentyoung 
man, and-” 
But Noel was stopped before he could say more- 
“ Oh! don’t call him that! Shrewd men are al¬ 
ways prying and snappish, and sensible young 
men part their hair the wrong side, wear shabby 
coats, sew on their own buttons, and develop Into 
fussy old bachelors! 1 hate prudent people! and 
sensible ones are my abhorence! If you cannot 
give Clement better praise than that, why, don’t 
praise him at all." 
“ Then I will he silent till 1 know him more In¬ 
timately,” answered Noel. “ But I suppose I may 
tell you that I was very glad to find him so reason¬ 
able on the subject of your marriage.” 
“Oh, yes; he is reasonable enough,” was the 
careless reply. “ He says that if you cannot settle 
anything on me we must contrive to do without It. 
Mrs. Hursr Is delighted with him.” 
“And Ml3s Gray—Is she equally pleased with 
him?” Noel was tempted to Inquire. 
Irene’s rosy face clouded. 
“Miss Gray cau be very disagreeable when she 
chooses. Ay! you may look; but I do call It down¬ 
right disagreeable or her to tell me that she was 
not Impressed in Mr. Dunforth's favor. She knew 
I had set my heart upon her liking him.” 
“ Would you have had Miss Gray deceive you?” 
“Need she have gone and prejudiced herself 
against the very person I was so anxious for her 
to admire?” retorted Irene, with a pout. "Y r ou 
see, Noel, she knows almost everything—tn the 
way of housekeeping. I mean—and as I am deter¬ 
mined never to consult ma, as It would give her an 
excuse for coming aud interfering, which she 
never, never shall, I thought It would be so nice to 
ask Miss Gray to come and stop with me till I can 
manage for myself; and how can I, If she refuses 
to be friendly with him 7” 
“ 1 suppose Miss Gray Is polite to Mr. Dunforth,” 
Noel observed. 
“ Was It polite to treat him so distantly that he 
bit his lips and whispered something which I dare¬ 
say tt was as well I didn’t hear ? It’s all the more 
annoying, because I feel myself compelled to re¬ 
sent her treatment to Clement, and yet, I hate 
sulking. Why can't people like each other when I 
wish them to?” 
“ I'm afraid Mr. Dunforth must have given Miss 
Gray some cause for treating him with a coldness 
so much at variance with her usual manner,” said 
Noel sharply. *• If he thinks that what has hap¬ 
pened gives him license to behave to her with Im¬ 
pertinence. I shall soon teach him his mistake.” 
“What nonsense are you talking now?” cried 
the vexed Irene. “ Every one seems at cress-pur¬ 
poses. I will fetch Clement, for he can defend 
himself against your unjust remarks better than I 
can. I’m sure he did his utmost to conciliate Miss 
Gray, as well as her aunt. Is he to be blamed be¬ 
cause she would sit aloof and say nothing?” 
Noel mused. 
Did llllllan fear the revelations It was In Clement 
Dunforth’s power to make, that she was so anxious 
to avoid him? 
The baffled thinker felt that there was but one 
course open to him, and that was to let the matter 
rest. 
He apologized for his pettishness to his sister, 
who was easily Induced to forgive It, and soon 
rattled on as before. 
“ She was going to write to ma that day and ask 
her to let the dressmakers commence her trousseau. 
Where was the money to come from ? Oh, It must 
be managed somehow, for whoever heard or a girl 
being mun ted without one. The wedcling-robes 
must wait till she had made up her mind which 
would be the most becoming.” 
“ But my dear Irene, there Is time enough for 
thinking of these things-” 
“Time enough, when Matilda Jenkins's first 
cousin’s bride was obliged to defer her nuptials for 
a week because tbe trousseau was not ready! 
Only think how unlucky and disappointing.” 
“ But has not Mr. Dunforth explained to you 
that he Is not In a position to marry at present.” 
Irene looked her dismay. 
"No—no! he has not said anything, except that 
he supposes we must be patient, till you are suf¬ 
ficiently recovered to give me away. I suppose It 
wouldn’t look well for you to go to church on 
crutches. But. don’t try and Infect him with any 
of your old-fashioned notions about waiting; pray 
don’t, Noel! Thluk how frightfully depressing It 
would be for me to have to go back from Caris- 
forde to mamma. Here I ana treated as a lady, 
waited upon by the servants, permitted to do as I 
please; there 1 am taken to task for all the ser¬ 
vant’s shortcomings, scolded for the children’s 
faults as well as my own, and mamma is never 
pleased with anything l do. Oh! Noel, I'd rather 
die than go back to the old life r 
“ But my dear sister, a hasty marriage might 
bring worse sorrows In Its train." 
“Ttcouldn’t—U couldn’t,” Irene persisted. “I 
should at least be mistress in my own home.” 
“ But Clement Dunforth might prove a very 
tyrannical master; do you forget that ?” 
“I hate such suppositions?” was the pettish 
reply. “ He would not beat me; he Is too muoh of 
