146 
THE LADIES' FLORAL CABINET. 
mean to be offensive to you. I intended it to be a pleas¬ 
ant surprise.” 
Mr. Calthoipe surveyed his son with an expression of 
mingled doubt and vexation. 
“ You to be married!” he exclaimed, glossing; his 
sneer with pretended playfulness; “to another land¬ 
lady’s daught er, I presume, or some pretty Oxford street 
milliner.” 
“ You have made a very bad guess. I have no fear 
that you will be discontented when you know the lady,” 
said Maurice, smiling at his father’s efforts to maintain 
his air of calm politeness. 
“ May I be permitted to inquire what is her name ?” 
“At present it is by her request a secret, even from 
you.” 
“Umph . . . Has she a fortune ?” 
“ Yes.” 
“And position?” 
“ Yes, and beauty and goodness besides.” 
“Ah, the first two qualifications will suffice to bear 
the burden of the others. My dear boy, the best con¬ 
gratulations I can offer you is in telling you that this 
news has added twenty years to my life and I rejoice 
that we shall be able to spend them together—for of 
course you will make Calthorpe your headquarters ?” 
“I am not sure of that yet, and at any rate we need 
not settle about it until Calthorpe is free.” 
“ Of course, of course, it is a mere detail,” assented 
the father, hastily dismissing the disagreeable reminder, 
and proceeding with as much self-complacency as if 
mortgages and probable foreclosure were unknown to 
him: “ Now I can go to Cuthbert’s with a light heart 
and—aha!—Yes!—by Jove, I see it now.” 
His eyes brightened as if he had made some marvel¬ 
lous discovery and was proud of it. 
“ See what, sir?” ,, . , , . 
“ Don’t you see?—why she is able' to speak about you 
now. She has heard of your engagement these things 
do ooze out somehow, although, as in the present in¬ 
stance, some of those most interested are always the 
last to have the news. She has heard of it, and there¬ 
fore feels herself at liberty to speak of you now, think¬ 
ing that she cannot be misunderstood. Very likely she 
is sorry, too—of eburse I should congratulate her upon . 
her escape from such a scamp as my son.” 
“ She might not be pleased by any reference— ” 
“ Tut, tut, you do not suppose I am such a fool as you 
are—not to see that is only my little joke ! Upon my 
word I have become as much excited over the affair as 
if I myself were to be the bridegroom. Fortune and po¬ 
sition !—my dear Maurice, I always predicted that you 
would make a hit some day.” 
“ I have been very lucky” 
“ And you deserve it. There is my hand—I am proud 
of vou!” 
“ I am glad of that, sir. I sometimes feared that you 
regarded me as hoplessly insaue.” 
Mr. Calthorpe held up liis hands deprecatingly. 
“No more raking up of old scores, if you please. I 
may give Cuthbert a hint, I suppose?” 
“You may tell him all you know.” 
“ Then I shall start at once.” 
“I am going in your direction, so the one cab will 
serve us both.” 
(concluded in next number.) 
THE WATERED LILIES. 
The Master stood in His garden, 
. A m ong the lilies fan-, 
Which His own right hand had planted 
And trained with tenderest care. 
He looked at their snowy blossoms, 
And marked with observant eye 
That His flowers were sadly drooping; 
For the leaves were parched and dry. 
“ My lilies need to be watered,” 
The Heavenly Master said; 
“ Wherein shall I draw it for them, 
And raise each drooping head? ” 
Close to His feet on the pathway, 
Empty and frail and small, 
An earthen vessel was lying, 
Which seemed of no use at all. 
But the Master saw and raised it 
From the dust in which it lay. 
And smiled as He gently whispered, 
“ This shall do my work to-day. 
“ It is but an earthen vessel, 
But it lay so close to me; 
It is small, but it is empty, 
And that is all it needs to be.” 
So to the fountain He took it, 
And filled it full to the brim ; 
How glad was the earthen vessel 
To. be of some use to Him! 
He poured forth the living water 
Over His lilies fan - , 
Until the vessel was empty, 
And again He filled it there. 
He watered the drooping lilies 
Until they revived again; 
And the Master saw with pleasure, 
That His labor had not been in vain. 
His own hand had drawn the water 
Which refreshed the thirsty flowers ; 
But He used the earthen vessel 
To convey the living showers. 
And to itself it whispered, 
As He laid it aside once more : 
“Still will I lie in His'patliway, 
Just where I did before. 
“ Close would I keep to the Master, 
Empty would I remain, 
And perhaps some day He may use me 
To water his flowers again/ 
—[Gems of Poetry. 
