IN' TOLLY'S NET. 
CHAPTER III. 
THE DRIVE. 
Andrew Blair, although too acute a personage to 
become that, most pitiable object—a regular lady- 
killer and top had a sufficiently good opinion of 
himself to Imagine that he had made a favorable 
Impression on that wicked little coquette, Jean 
McLeod, and that the laughing glance flashed on 
him from the carriage window might fairly be In¬ 
terpreted Into a command to meet her party at 
the Botanical Gardens on the (Lay after Lady Ker- 
genven’s ball he did not doubt for a moment. 
Accordingly, three o’clock on the following after¬ 
noon found him driving In the direction of the 
Regent’s Park, and controlling his handsome 
horses with skilled hands and a rather well-satis¬ 
fied expression of countenance, while several peo¬ 
ple turned to look admiringly after the well-ap¬ 
pointed mall-phaeton and Its very good-looking 
owner, and one or two men who were taking an 
“afternoon crawl” remarked to each other : 
“ Blair, of Blair Gates, you know; made no end 
of money In Australia; several times a million¬ 
aire.'’ 
“ What in the world made him go to Australia 
when he had a good property In Scotland al¬ 
ready?” 
“lie was only a younger son; but his brother 
died some years since, and he came In for the pro¬ 
perty.” 
“ Lucky beggar t” 
“ByJove! so he Is. He might have the pick 
of the matrimonial market this season If he chose; 
but I think he Is too sensible a man to commit 
matrimony. Perhaps he does not care tor 
women.” 
The speaker would probably have altered his 
opinion could he have known Mr. Blair s thoughts 
as he drove on, for they were of a woman most 
certaluly, and no other than Lord Ivor's Jlanoee, 
Jean McLeod. 
“ What a bewitching creature she Is,” he said to 
himself, a smile curflug his lip under his dark 
moustache as he thought of Jean’s coquetries and 
pretty, saucy ways. “ She is not halt so hand¬ 
some as Emily, of course, but then she Is the most 
fascinating woman. I ever met, whereas Emily has 
only her beauty. 1 wonder It she likes that tollow 
Ivor. Strange that he should be engaged to the 
first woman I have admired since I came to Eng¬ 
land. Is he to cross me always V” 
And Mr. Blair went Into a brown study, which 
was apparently not a very pleasant one, for his 
countenance darkened, and the slight smile dis¬ 
appeared. 
“lam rather in the habit of getting my own 
way,” he added to himself, in a moment. “ Women 
are strange cattle, and I don’t think she Is much 
in love with him. He Is a poor man beside me 
and riches can do most things In this mercenary 
age, except that they may not weigh with her as 
she Is well off herself, it would be wiping out a 
very old score if I could take her from him; and 
yet, somehow, much as I admire her, I arn not at 
all sure it l am going to fall In love with her. I 
should like to reel my hand on the reins though,” 
with a little soft, laugh. “ I expect she would be 
rather rebellious in harness; she would not Him to 
feel the bit in her mouth. Pretty creature, 
though 1” 
At this moment Mr. Blair’s chestnuts, which he 
had allowed to go at a walk during his reverie, 
were passed from behind by a handsome landau, 
with powdered servants In gorgeous livery, which 
contained three ladles, whom he recognised at 
once. Lady .sholto and Miss McLeod, in the front 
seat, passed without having time for any saluta¬ 
tion, but Miss Crawford In the back seat, inclined 
her pretty head In a gracious recognition, while 
Mr. Blair bowed low. 
“ Milord Is not there,” he said to himself, as they 
passed. “ So much the better; but 1 won’t follow 
directly—there is something gained In being 
wished for.” 
So instead of drtvlug straight to the Botanical 
Gardens, as he Intended, Mr. Blair turned his 
chestnuts’ heads In another direction, and length¬ 
ened his drive considerably before he returned to 
the Regent’s Part eti rant# for Ms first destination. 
The hand was playing when he pulled up at the 
entrance to the BotanlCaL Gardens, and throwing 
the reins to his groom, alighted, giving orders to 
the man to return at five o’clock. 
“ Rather before live than after,” he added. 
“ Drive back by the club and see It there are any 
letters, Jenkins.” 
“Yes, sir,” said Jenkins, touching his hat, as 
his master disappeared through the gates, and 
found lflmself in the gardens, which were looking 
their loveliest on this fair day In June, with the 
roses In bloom, and all the trees clothed In their 
richest verdure. 
It was a gala day, too, for some celebrated for¬ 
eign band was to be heard there that afternoon; 
afl the fashionable world In London was present, 
and the green sward was covered with, well-dressed 
women with or without their attendant cavaliers, 
as the case might be. 
It was a pretty sight; the rich, green verdure, 
the blue sky overhead with fleecy white clouds 
floating hither and thither, the butterfly bright¬ 
ness, and varied colors of the women’s dresses dot¬ 
ted over the grass like moving human flowers, the 
glass or the conservatories reflecting back the sun¬ 
shine, the brilliant uniform of the band In the 
kiosk among the trees, and tne sweet sounds of the 
music, all contributed to a (out ensemble of bright¬ 
ness and gaiety which could luydlv fall to give 
pleasure to t he beholder. 
Stepping jauntily along, flttlug on a most irre¬ 
proachable pair of primrose kids with which ho 
has replaced his driving gloves, Mr. Blair looked 
among the gay groups for Lady Sholto’s party, 
and having espied them seated under a wide- 
THE RURal NEW-YORKER, 
613 
spreading elm tree, he made his way towards 
them with Just the right amount of diffidence and 
etnpressemeru, noting with some satisfaction that 
Lord Tvor was not one of the party, although seve¬ 
ral gentlemen were grouped round the three la¬ 
dles, who looked fresb and charming as the day 
Itself in their gay, summer costumes. 
“Here is Mr. Blair, Ida,” Lady Sholto said, 
smiling, as he approached, and Jean turned laugh¬ 
ingly to the gentleman who was bending over her 
chair, talking In unison with the muslo and flow¬ 
ers, and said: 
“ Place, messieurs—place tor the Australian mil¬ 
lionaire, worth 6ver so many times his weight in 
gold.” 
Mr. Blair advanced with his usual self-posses¬ 
sion, and paid his respects to Lady Sholto and 
Miss Crawford first, turning to Jean last, but re¬ 
serving for her the wonderfully winning smile and 
glance he could assume so readily. 
CHAPTER IV. 
Jean, who was looking very lovely In a cool 
cream-colored dress of shining material, with a 
profusion of azure-blue knots, and a coquettish, 
broad-brimmed straw bat with blue ribbons and 
creamy lace, looked up, smiling at him between 
her long lashes, and quietly withdrawing the 
creamy drapery of her dross from a chair which 
she had adroitly hidden, pointed to It, significantly 
with the ivory handle of her parasol, and, nothing 
loath, Andrew Blair seated himself, while her 
cavalier, who was used to Jean’s /aeons cv agir, 
and who was moreover an old and Intimate friend, 
bowed himself away. 
“ Who could have expected to see you here, Mr. 
Blair?” said Jean. In a low voice, ivlth languid 
surprise. 
“You did for oue, Miss McLeod,” he answered, 
promptly; and Jean laughed a little consciously. 
“ You gave me your orders to appear,” he went 
on, audaciously, looking at her with his dark eyes 
full of meaning. 
“I?” she said, lifting her eyebrows, but color¬ 
ing a little notwithstanding her affected surprise, 
“ How, when, and where, Mr. Blah - ?” 
“ The time was last night,” he said, softly ; 
“ the place was at the window of a closed car¬ 
riage; the manner,” he hesitated a moment, 
“ was In the prettiest and most expressive lan¬ 
guage 1 have had the good fortune ever to receive 
Instructions In.” 
For a moment Jean was silent, uncertain 
whether to he vexed or laugh; the latter Inclina¬ 
tion prevailed, and sho laughed gaily. 
“The wish may have been father to the 
thought,” he said, hi a moment, smiling. “ But I 
certainly thought you wished me to come, Miss 
McLeod. You are not angry with me?” he added, 
entreattngly. 
"Angry for such obedience?” she said, laugh¬ 
ing ; “ of course not.” “ What makes you so late ?” 
she went on. In a moment. “ We passed you on 
our way here ever so long ago.” 
" Yes, I tried not to come,” he answered, in a 
low tone. 
“ Tried not to come!” said Jead, affecting great 
bewilderment. “ You are speaking In eii lgmas, 
Mr. Blair, surely,” 
“Am I?” he answered. “What are we told to 
do when temptation besets us sorely ?” 
“ I don’t know. Give way to It, 1 should think,” 
said Jean, laughing. 
“Give way to It!” he repeated, eagerly, “a 
thousand thanks, Miss McLeod, i was under the 
Impression that t he right thing was to resist and 
flee, from It; but t will remember your words— 
please do not forget them yourself.” 
Jean laughed, little thinking, poor child, of the 
regret with which a few months alter she would 
remember them, little thinking what a tangled 
net of misery and wretchedness she was begin¬ 
ning even then to weave for herself and others. 
The music went on; the foreign band was play¬ 
ing now some soft, dreamy melodies from “ Lucia 
dl Lammennoor," and Mr. Blair began talking In a 
low tone about Scott’s best and greatest novel, and 
compassionating the ill-fated bride and her un¬ 
happy lover. 
" We were admiring your chestnuts, Mr. Blair,” 
said Lady Sholto, after a time. “ I was wishing 
Lord Sholto was with us; he Is fond of horses.” 
"Your ladyship does them too much honor,’, 
said Mr. Blair, bowing. “They are hardly broken 
In yet.” 
“Please don’t say so before Miss McLeod,” said 
Ida Crawford, laughingly, “or she will surely want 
to drive them!” 
“Nothing 1 should like better," Jeau said, with 
her pretty grace of manner, somehow, do what 
tMs girl might, sho was always eharmtng, what 
would have degenerated Into fastness with other 
girls was only pretty frankness with her, and 
there was something so quaint and original in her 
bewitching sauciness that It was no wonder men 
admired It among the affectation, languor and In¬ 
difference which Is supposed to be the bight of 
refinement and 0 on ton in the society of the pres¬ 
ent day. 
“ Nothing would give me greater pleasure than 
to see you driving them," said the owner of the 
chestnuts, a flush of gratification coloring his 
dark face; “that Is, If l were by your side to pre¬ 
vent accidents.” 
“Then, if you will allow me, I will drive back 
with you this afternoon,” said Jean, coolly disre¬ 
garding Ida’s look of dismay. “ We can follow the 
carriage, Florence.” 
“My dear Jean, what are you thinking of?” 
Lady Sholto said, as Mr. Blair bowed his delight 
at the proposal, ••the torses are quite umit for a 
huly to drive.” 
“There will be no danger with Mr. Blair,” an¬ 
swered Jean, quietly; she was as Mr. Blair had 
surmised, Impatient of control. “Ah I there Is 
Lady Agliuer; 1 must go and speak to her. Come, 
Mr. Blair, and 1 will introduce you to the most 
charming woman In London,” she said, as she 
rose and moved away over the soft, green sward. 
“ I have the honor of knowing her already,” he 
said, quickly, and Jean's bright face darkened 
slightly; she did not quite like such open com¬ 
pliments, but she turned It off with a slight 
laugh, and Andre v Blair was too acute to repeat 
his error. 
“I wish Jean would not be so wild,” said Lady 
Sholto to her husband, who came up to her at this 
moment- “Arthur, sho has actually suggested 
driving home with that Mr. Blah’ In his mail- 
phaeton.” 
“That Mr. Blair!” repeated Lord Sholto, who 
was a very handsome, good-natured man, In¬ 
tensely devoted to his pretty wife, and far too 
easy-golDg to object to any of Jean’s whims, had 
she been Lady Sholto. “ I thought you liked him 
so much, Flo. You were ail In raptures about him 
last ulght.” 
“I can't bear him,” she said vehemently; she 
was a most enthusiastic little personage,was Lady 
Florence Sholto. “ 1 am sure he Is falling In 
love with Jean as fast as he can, and It will make 
Archie wretched.” 
“ Nonsense, wlfle,” answered Ills lordship, as 
they sauntered on arm-in-arm. “ if Jean’s flirta¬ 
tious make Archie wretched, he must have had a 
pretty hard time of It since their engagement.” 
“ But, Arthur, It Is wrong of her.” 
“Wrong? I don’t know about that, love,” he 
replied, carelessly. “ She Is as leal and true of 
heart as a girl cau be, and Archibald knows It 
quite well, and has no objection to her amusing 
herself a little.” 
“ But he won’t like this, 1 am sure,” persisted 
Lady Sholto. “ Just consider It,, Arthur, driving 
through London at this time of year with Mr. 
Blair, in his phaeton.” 
Lord Sholto was silent. It did look rather bad, 
he owned to himself. To drive through the town 
In Mr. Blair’s phaeton rather grated even against 
Lord Sholto’s sense of propriety. 
“ I am sure Archie will be angry,” went on her 
ladyship. 
“ 1 will tell you what I’ll do,” said his lordship, 
suddenly. “ i j u get Blair to send his groom home, 
and let me sit behind; then the good folks cannot 
talk. Flo.” 
“ That will be better; but I was hoping you 
would come home with us, Arthur,” said his wife, 
rather wistfully. 
“ We ll follow or precede you, dear,” replied his 
lordship, who was rather curious to see Mr. Blair’s 
celebrated chestnuts. 
Notwithstanding her husband’s promise, Lady 
Sholto thought. It her duty to make another ap¬ 
peal to Jean’s sense of propriety, and seized the 
first opportunity to do so. 
“ My dear Jennie,” she said. Impressively, draw¬ 
ing her a little aside when the young girl rejoined 
them, "are you prudent to encourage Mr. Blair’s 
attentions so much ? I am sure Archie will be 
vexed it you drive home with him.” 
“ I am accountable tor my own actions, Flor¬ 
ence,” she was answered, haughtily enough. • If 
Archie has any complaint, he can make It to me 
himself. He has perfect trust in me,” she added 
* (ore gently. " I am not afraid of his vexation.” 
So when they left the Gardens Mr. Blair lifted 
Miss McLeod Into his phaeton, and politely offered 
Lord sholto the seat beside her. 
“Oh, no, If you please.” Jean said, leaning a 
little forward, and speaking eagerly ; “ I must 
have Mr. Blair In front. Lord Sholto. r should not 
dare drive these horses otherwise.” 
“Of course,” Lord Sholto answered, “you must 
let me do groom this afternoon, and, Jeanle, set 
me down at the corner of Park Lane, r want to 
go round to the stables before 1 go in.” 
“Very well,” answered Jeanie, as she took the 
reins; and Mr. Blair lound that his attention was 
pretty well occupied during the drive home be¬ 
tween his dainty charioteer and her steeds, for 
though, as I have said. Jean was •• a capital whip,” 
the fiery, half-broken chestnuts were beyond a 
lady’s management, and more than once Mr. 
Blair’s hands had to And their way to the reins, 
while once they covered Jean’s, and held them for 
a moment in a dose clasp. 
At the corner of Park Lane they dropped Lord 
Sholto, who went round to his stables, while they 
drove homewards, and then Mr. Blair had an 
opportunity of expressing to Jean the great pleas¬ 
ure he had had, the unutterable happiness, etc., 
etc., etc. 
“ Neither my horses nor their master were ever 
so honored before," he said. In his softest voice, as 
Jean said the drive had been charming and the 
horses •• loves.” When shall you be In Scotland, 
Miss McLeod?" 
“Early in August, I believe," she answered. 
“ And you yourself. Mr. Blair ?” 
" I am golug almost Immediately,” he answered. 
“ Blair Gates wants renovating. 1 hope we shall 
meet then,” 
“ I hope so,” Jean answered, frankly. “ I want 
to hear some stories about the bush, you know. 
Why,” she added, as a hansom dashed up from an 
opposite direction, and stopped at the door of Lord 
Sholto’s house, “ surely that ts the Earl ?” 
“ Lord l vor?” exclaimed Mr. Blair. “ I hope he 
will not be angry. Miss McLeod? I should never 
forgive myself if I got you Into a row.” 
Jean drew herself up a little haughtily, and Mr. 
Blair, motioning to the footman who opened the 
door to go to the horses'tread, jumped out of the 
phaeton and .put up Ifls hand to assist Jean to 
alight. 
At this moment Lord Ivor, who was reading a 
newspaper, aroused by the sudden pulling up of 
his cab, looked up and put out tils hand to open 
the door, and saw Mr. Blair and tits eompaulon, 
Jean’s color had faded slightly, for though she 
was not afraid of the Earl’s vexation, she. loved 
him too truly to give him pain, and as she saw 
the sudden expression of mingled anger and sor¬ 
row which flashed law the proud, sleepy, gray 
eyes, she wished from the bottom of her heart 
that she had not given way to her freak of wishing 
to drive Mr. Blair’s chestnuts home. 
But she was a very proud girl, and Air. Blair’s 
words, apprehensive of the Earl’s anger, and get. 
ting her Into a row, had roused a lurking Imp In 
that wayward little heart of hers, and made her 
farewell to Mr. Blair more gracious than It would 
have been, had not Lord Ivor dismissed his cab 
and been standing beside her on the pavement. 
“Ah, Archibald, Is that you? Are not these 
pretty creatures ? I have driven them home from 
the Botanical Gardens; have I not?” she added, 
turning to Mr. Blair, with a laugh In her brown 
eyes, as she put her little delicately gloved hand 
on the glossy, satin coat of the horse nearest to 
her. 
Mr. Blah’ bowed, smiled, and looked delighted, 
hoped his lordship was well, again shook Jean’s 
proffered hand, and finally jumped Into his 
phaeton, and drove off; while Miss McLeod pre¬ 
ceded the Earl Into the house, and the powdered, 
footman following. Imparted to the other powdered 
footman who kept guard In Lady sholto’s hall 
that- in. his opinion there was “somethJug up, tor 
his lordship did not look too well pleased,” upon 
which the other gave It as Ms opinhm “that his 
lordship need not take the trouble to be angry 
with Miss McLeod, for she would soon throw dust 
in his eyes.”—(To lie Continued-.) 
RECENT LITERATURE. 
Breton .Hills: A Romance. 13y Chas. J. Bellamy 
New York. G. I 1 . Putnam’s Bong. 
The principal element of interest In this story 
Is the absorbing love of the hero, Philip Breton, 
for the lovely girl, Bertha Elllngsworth, who, In 
the opening chapter ts represented as his affianced 
wife. The girl Is Indifferent to Philip’s love, In 
fact, reproves all exhibitions of tenderness on his 
part, and treats his Impassioned speeches with 
contempt, sue belongs to a wealtliy family and 
all her tastes and associations are refined and ele¬ 
gant. Presently she becomes enamored of a labor- 
reformer, Curran, by name, with whom she elopes, 
leaving Philip broken-hearted. In the course of 
a few months Bertha returns to her father’s house 
and Philip, although he knows she eloped with a 
man to whom she was not married, renews hla 
suit, and after a little he succeeds in Inducing ner 
to many him. ne has not been married to her a 
day before he finds out that she was married to 
Curran, and that the divorce she obtained without 
Curran's knowledge Is invalid. He buys off the 
lawyer, who is In the secret, and keeps Bertha in 
Ignorance of the fact that he has discovered her 
previous marriage and the attempted divorce. The 
story gets bruited around and Philip has his hands 
full trying to keep them from dragging his write to 
the felon’s dock. He finally decides that there is 
safety only In flight, and he arranges for a Euro¬ 
pean tour. After many trying experiences, he Is 
finally driven to the pier with his wife and fol¬ 
lowed by Curran on horseback, who has Just 
learned that his deserting wife has been married 
to Philip. There is an exciting race, which is ter¬ 
minated by Curraa being thrown over the horse’s 
head and killed. Philip and Bertha board the 
steamer. “ He loses the look of feverish watchful¬ 
ness. Fate had seemed Invincible. He had pitted 
his be-autllul mills and his home and his hopes of 
glory against it, all for the love of a woman who 
had no heart for him. He had conquered, and he 
did not begrudge the price, this royal lover; for 
he had won the love of his bride at last.” 
" Below in her state-room, weary with her un¬ 
wonted excitement, Bertha was sleeping; sleep¬ 
ing like a child unconscious of the terrible peril 
and infamy she had escaped only by so much as a 
hair’s breadth.” 
The moral of the story Is all wrong. The lovely 
sinner who betrays first a lover, then a husband, 
and deserts her child Is loved and protected to the 
end, while of the men who loved and were true to 
her, one Is killed and the other besides being made 
miserable by her sins, crushes his best impulses 
and sacrifices material prosperity to save and 
serve her. In addition to the peculiar and exciting 
details given above, the boos is enlivened by labor 
revolts and reform speeches. 
numerous ijnistrrtions from designs b 
Gascb. New York : G. P. Putman’s sons, 
This Is Just the sort of weather to make a visit 
to the regions of lee and snow—either in Imagina¬ 
tion or In the flesh— agreeable, so that M r. Rob¬ 
inson’s book has the charm of timeliness In addi¬ 
tion to Its other attractions. His travels ted him 
quite outside the experience of ordinary travel¬ 
ers—the places he visited, the people he met, and 
the adventures that befell him all being of the 
order “ unique’’—and then he has a really cap¬ 
tivating way of telling his story, some writers 
are forever giving the dimensions of rutos, es¬ 
timating hlghts, depths, lengths, going down to 
the roots of the language, tracing the develope- 
ment of the race, and bewildering and depress Ing 
the reader by the display of their profound eru¬ 
dition lathe “ologles”and “isms.” Nor, so Mr. 
Robinson. The reader learns very much that Is 
useful and entertaining about the ‘ 1 Fur Land’ * 
but It is all told In a conversational sort of way. 
As a certain writer puts It, Robinson “ uncon¬ 
sciously distils Information.” and It Is this absence 
of a labored effort to be instructive which is one 
of the charms of the author’s style. 
The book tempts one to do quite an amount of 
scissoring, but we shall have to content ourselves 
with one extract, a sketch of the driver which 
gives a fair Idea of the taste displayed by the na¬ 
tive heathen In the matter of costume. 
“ My driver was a heathen free. He was, more¬ 
over, a linguist, speaking several aboriginal dia¬ 
lects and a kind of Mongrel French. Five golden 
sovereigns constituted the bond of union between 
us. He was a lank, muscular man, the bones of 
whose huge frame stood out conspicuously at the 
joints and angles, and the muscles showed dis¬ 
tinctly in his gaunt meagreness. He had yellow 
paint on his face, and was arrayed In rather be¬ 
wildering apparel. Uls headgear was the luxuriant 
Cherelure with which Nature had endowed him , 
On his feet he wore moccasins: bn his limbs he 
wore legglns, which extended only a certain way 
above the knee, leaving that Providence which 
