t
occurrence.

Many interesting and exciting scenes could be related of this part of
her life, but I hesitate to do more than show her training and fitness
for the work she is now doing.

It is a work we all want done, and would gladly take part in had we the
qualifications for it. It is a work which, if well and honestly done,
will deserve the best thanks of England and of the whole civilized
world. She may not live to tell us, but her life will not have been
lived in vain if she prove successful in getting at the truth of what is
done _By order of the Czar_, and presenting it to the Czar himself.

We cannot travel with her bodily; we cannot hunger or perish with cold
in her company; we cannot fight with dogs and wolves as she must do; we
cannot, with her, go into the dens of immorality and fever; but we can
determine upon some way of helping her, and I think we shall only be too
thankful to join her friends who by giving of their means are
participating in so grand a mission.

THE FATE OF THE HARA DIAMOND.

A Story Re-told.

CHAPTER I.

MY ARRIVAL AT DEEPLEY WALLS.

"Miss Janet Hope,
To the care of Lady Chillington,
Deepley Walls, near Eastbury,
Midlandshire."

"There, miss, I'm sure that will do famously," said Chirper, the
overworked, oldish young person whose duty it was to attend to the
innumerable wants of the young lady boarders of Park Hill Seminary. She
had just written out, in a large sprawling hand, a card as above which
card was presently to be nailed on to the one small box that held the
whole of my worldly belongings.

"And I think, miss," added Chirper, meditatively, as she held out the
card at arm's length, and gazed at it admiringly, "that if I was to
write out another card similar, and tie it round your arm, it would,
mayhap, help you in getting safe to your journey's end."

I, a girl of twelve, was the Janet Hope indicated above, and I had been
looking over Chirper's shoulder with wondering eyes while she addressed
the card.

"But who is Lady Chillington, and where is Deepley Walls, and what have
I to do with either, Chirper, please?" I asked.

"If there is one thing in little girls more hateful than another, it is
curiosity," answered Chirper, with her mouth half-full of nails.
"Curiosity has been the bane of many of our sex. Witness Bluebeard's
unhappy wife. If you want to know more, you must ask Mrs. Whitehead. I
have my instructions and I