ose.

There now! I have cleared up things pretty well, and don't think it bad
for a first attempt.

ASCENA'S NARRATIVE.

I am married to Captain CHARLES, and OUTHOUSE is to live with us for
ever. This is pleasant. I am a little disappointed that circumstances
over which I have no control should prevent me from telling you why I
was a foundling, what was done with my juvenile wardrobe, why my father
never returned from Vienna, what on earth became of my dreams when I
sold them to somebody or other for a pound a day--in fact, what it is
all about. You will say that I am a fraud, a mistake, an unconsidered
trifle. You will be right. Mrs. Captain CHARLES is very stupid and
commonplace. Alas! there has been a great falling off since the days of
ASCENA LUKINGLASSE!

* * * * *

[Illustration: A PARVENU.

(THE COMING ARISTOCRACY OF MIND.)

_He._ "CHARMING YOUTH, THAT YOUNG BELLAMY--SUCH A REFINED AND CULTIVATED
INTELLECT! WHEN YOU THINK WHAT HE'S _RISEN_ FROM, POOR FELLOW, IT REALLY
DOES HIM CREDIT!"

_She._ "WHY, WERE HIS PEOPLE--A--INFERIAH!"

_He._ "WELL, YES. HIS GRANDFATHER'S AN EARL, YOU KNOW, AND HIS UNCLE'S A
BISHOP; AND HE _HIMSELF_ IS HEIR TO AN OLD BARONETCY WITH EIGHTY
THOUSAND A YEAR!"]

* * * * *

A TALE OF TERROR.

HE sat, or rather grovelled, amongst a pile of daily newspapers. His
eyes were wilder, much wilder, than the Wild West of BUFFALO-BILL, his
hair was as dishevelled as that of an infuriated Irish M.P. after an
All-night Sitting. He looked as mad as a hatter.

"What ails you?" I inquired, sympathetically, soothingly. For all
answer--as the ebulliently sentimental she-novelist saith--he pointed to
the pell-mell pile of morning papers.

"Poor fellow!" said I. "Have you then been trying to understand Sir
HENRY ROSCOE'S erudite Address to the British Association?"

He shook his head emphatically.

"Or to make head or tail, flesh, fowl, or good red herring of one of
AUBERON HERBERT'S acidulous jeremiads?"

Again he shook his head, and tore his hair at the same time.

"Or to learn from MATTHEW ARNOLD'S moony meanderings, complacent
assumptions, and tart imputations, what is the real nature of his
favourite, quiet, reasonable person,

'Asperitatis et invidiae corrector et irae?'"

Once more that action of decided dissent.

"Then perhaps you have been trying to find the 'sweet reasonableness,'
and the invaluable 'dry light