impudent beggar-boy a la Murillo, with a wealth of dusky curls, and melting black eyes which when raised to your face with a pleading expression had the effect of sending your hand instinctively to the pocket; while the thrilling tone of voice in which he said, "Ho fame, fame" (I am hungry, hungry), could not fail to touch the most obdurate heart. Alone General Donnerfels remained untouched, and his hand only never strayed in the direction of the pocket.

December had been unusually mild even for Italy, and might have advertised itself as May or September anywhere else. There was scarcely anything, in fact, to distinguish it from summer, for the foliage, consis ing principally of laurel and olive groves, remain ed the same all the year round; while the brambles and wild roses which draped each rock and wall with their luxuriant tangles, never took the trouble of undressing at all, but kept on their old leaves -hardly the worse for wearthroughout the winter, to be shuffled off imperceptibly when spring in coming round again bestowed on them new suits of verdure.

The sky was as blue as the sea, and the sea as blue as a sapphire; the air, almost too soft and relaxing for robust constitutions, was like elixir to the delicate. People lived out of doors at this genial season, and the Cur-garden was crowded from morn to nightwith the convalescent-all eating, drinking, reading, talking, or flirting al fresco; while more confirmed invalids lounged on balconies or verandahs, drinking great draughts of the aromatic breezes, which seemed fraught with life and hope.

On Christmas-day the sun rose somewhat less brightly than usual;

and when old Madame Raymond stepped outside to take the morning walk prescribed by the doctor; she was met by a chillier rush of air than she had ever felt at St Pino before. She noticed, too, for the first time, that a heavy bank of leaden clouds had gathered on the horizon, and that the sea was grey, not blue to-day.

Madame Raymond shivered slightly as she drew her shawl closer around, and fastened it tighter across the chest with a large old-fashioned pearl brooch. The woollen shawl, which had been almost oppressively warm these last weeks, now suddenly seemed to have become tiny and scanty.

"I wish I had put on my warm cloak," said she to herself, hesitating on the threshold; but she felt reluctant to go up that long steep flight of stairs in search of warmer raiment; for her room, which had been selected for economical reasons, lay au second.

6.

Please, monsieur," she began, with a world of deprecation in eyes and voice, to a magnificent waiter just passing with a tray, "would you kindly fetch me

But the magnificent waiter, who was engaged in serving breakfast to a Russian princess occupying the finest suite of rooms au premier, did not even wait to hear the end of the phrase, but passed on up-stairs after casting a contemptuous glance at the old lady and her shabby shawl.

Madame Raymond sighed resignedly: she was used to such rebuffs, and had far too little selfassertion to make a second attempt.

"I need not walk quite so far to-day," she said to herself, closing the large glass door behind

her.

The beggars were even more numerous than usual this morning, and Madame Raymond had to stop

repeatedly and fumble in her pocket for coppers; but as she advanced farther, the marine promenade lay deserted before her, and she was able to proceed unmolested. She

SO

no longer felt cold now; the effort of walking had warmed her blood and given a slight tinge of colour to her withered cheek, and with something of interest she watched the crowds of sea-gulls and gannets flapping and shrieking among the rocks. She had never seen many of them together before. She noticed too, that the sea, usually so calm, was rising into tiny wavelets imperceptibly higher every minute, and that countless little fishing-boats were making for the shore; but, ignorant of the weather - lore of these parts, she failed to attach any special importance to the signs.

She had reached an exposed spot, where the promenade, rounding a promontory, lost sight of the hotels and houses of San Pino, when a sudden gust of wind made her pause and reflect that she had better be turning homewards; but just then a musical childish voice struck in upon her ear

Un soldo, signora, per l'amor del Santo Bambino-mi muore di fame!" a copper, a copper, lady, for the love of Holy Infant-I am dying of hunger!), and black-eyed Tonino, wiping his mouth with the back of a very dirty hand, issued from behind a projecting rock.

Madame Raymond had already exhausted all her coppers at the beginning of the walk, so she made a feeble effort to wave off the young rogue; but when Tonino, confident in his own powers of fascination, repeated again in still more heartrending accentsHo fame, fame, fume!"-emphasising his words by laying one filthy little hand expressively on the pit of his stomach-her firm

ness gave way. This was Christmas-day, to be sure, so how could she find it in her heart to let this poor child go starving home? There were very few silver francs remaining in Madame Raymond's purse, but one of these was hastily drawn out and transferred to Tonino's outstretched palm.

While fumbling for her purse, Madame Raymond had, however, dropped the pearl brooch which held her shawl together, and she never noticed how the nimble young vagabond had meanwhile transferred this article swiftly and deftly to an opening in his own tattered breeches, which showed many curious bulges on their surface.

Some one else had, however, been witness of the little transaction, for just at that moment General Doune fels rounded the corner, and with the glance of his hawklike eye took in the whole situation. With two strides he had reached them and caught hold of the delinquent.

"Impudent young thief!" he shouted. "Dying of hunger, are you? What is that, and that, and that?" he added, with one hand emptying the urchin's pockets of their contents, bringing to light, besides the gold brooch in question, a miscellaneous assortment of broken pieces of bread, cheese, meat, sausages, besides stolen pocket-handkerchiefs and copper and silver coins, while with the other hand he held To

nino fast imprisoned in an iron grip.

"Vile, godless young rogue!" he now thundered in crescendo accents. "So you are not content with obtaining money under false pretences, but must needs, moreover, add to your misdemeanours by stealing as well!"

Tonino only answered by a vigorous yell, calculated to convey the impression of acute physical suffering.

Taking my morning walk," gasped the old lady between her sobs.

No; you have been fostering vice and encouraging theft. It is you and the like of you that deprave and demoralize youth and prepare criminals for the gallows, There would be no more beggars, no pickpockets either, if there were no d-d old fools to encourage them!"

By this time General Donnerfels's voice had risen to that celebrated mad bull rear which had obtained such fame throughout the length and breadth of the German empire. The veins on his forehead were standing out like knotted whipcord, his complexion rapidly deepening to a dusky purple, his eyes bloodshot and glaring like those of a tiger about to spring.

Madame Raymond, by this time too terrified even to sob, was nearly fainting; but Tonino, who had ceased howling, recognising it to be a useless waste of power, now seeing his opportunity, with an unexpected movement wrenched himself free of his persecutor's gra-p, and was off with the agility of a young deer in the direction of the olive-grove ahead, into which he disappeared, after having turned round to disclose his splendid teeth in a dazzling grin of impudent triumph.

step or two as though in pursuit; but presently he paused, put one hand up to his head, then reeling backwards, with one long heavy groan fell senseless to the ground.

For full two minutes Madame Raymond stood immovable, not caring to advance or retreat. She was far too stupefied by the scene gone through to be able to think clearly all at once. What was she to do? Go home, as prudence suggested, for the wind was rising every minute and a thin drizzling rain beginning to fall. But she was a Christian, and common charity demanded that she should at least endeavour to render some assistance to this unfortunate man, who in one second had been transformed from a raging wild beast to an inert and senseless body. It was not lack of charity that caused her to hesitate in approaching hm, but sheer terror lest he should wake up again and renew his attack.

At last, with an effort-heroic under the circumstances-Madame Raymond conquered her repug nance and drew near. General Donnerfels lay quite still, just where he had fallen. He was alive-of that the deep, stertorous breathing gave evidence-but there was no sign of returning consciousness. A thin stream of blood was trickling down from one nostril, and the mouth was open, but the eyes were close. Madame Raymond felt more courage now that those terrible glaring orbs were no longer fixed upon her. She knelt down and timidly took hold of his hand.

November and December had passed very slowly for Paula, one day like the other. She plodded backwards and forwards between her home and the boarding-school, where she spent many hours daily misinterpreting the music of Beethoven and Mozart, or in executing neat little pencil - drawings of castles and ruins of romantic appearance but deficient perspective. Paula was not passionately fond of either pursuit, but her grandmother had desired that she should study these things, so she bravely applied herself to the uncongenial tasks, and tried to fight against the despondency of those long trailing days. But longest of all were the evenings, when the early winter gloom had set in, and there were no more tasks to be finished for next day. When she had alternately fed and teased the old parrot, and had stroked out one more day in the calendar on which she marked the progress of this to her interminably long winter, then indeed there remained

nothing more to do. The cosy sitting room seemed large and cheerless, and oftenest Paula would slip away to the kitchen, where

old Veronica, sitting darning the household linen, would sometimes let herself be coaxed into a little desultory talk.

Sundays alone brought some change in the order of her daily life, for on these days she dined and spent the afternoon with the Béchards; taking a walk with the family after dinner, or playing draughts with Alphonse Béchard if the weather were bad. Although these entertainments could scarcely be called very exciting, yet they served to break the monotony of existence, and Paula unconsciously began to look forward to Sunday afternoon as the only bright spot in her dreary week.

To-day was not Sunday, but it was New Year's Day, and Paula had been invited to an extra festive dinner at the Béchards'. Dinner was over now, and Dr Béchard, according to an invariable habit, which he discouraged in his patients but cultivated in person, had subsided into an arm-chair to snore off the effects of roast-goose and chocolate-cake.

"Multi mortales dediti ventri atque somno vitam transiere,"1 he

used invariably to quote, before settling down to the daily snooze. Madame Béchard, with a large grey cat on her lap, had drawn her chair quite close to the stove, and was soon engrossed in the mysteries of her knitting.

It was impossible to go out today, as the snow was falling fast and heavy, so Alphonse brought out the draught-board and set it on the little table within the deep window-embrasure, which afforded such agreeable privacy for a tête-àtête conversation: while raised a step above the level of the room, it commanded a convenient view of the street below.

"What shall we play for?" said Paula, smiling across at the big young man who was placing the draughts on their respective squares. Shall it be for nuts or gingerbread to-day?"

"Neither," said Alphonse, mysteriously. You shall have something better than gingerbread if you win."

"And if I lose?"

Time enough to talk about that when you do lose," said the youth, who had already determined which way the victory was to fall.

The victory usually fell to Paula, she knew that well enough; knew what satisfaction it afforded Alphonse to be able to present her with a packet of gingerbread or a bag of nuts; and she was still child enough to be fond of gingerbread, yet woman enough to enjoy the dawning sense of power over this young giant, who would get red or pale at a look or a word of hers. So she accepted his gifts with equanimity, and feigned blindness to the clumsy manoeuvres by means of which he continued to get rid of most of his draughts

men.

"There now! Two more pieces

gone!" groaned groaned Alphonse with simulated despair, as Paula pounced upon two black draughtsmen and joyfully proclaimed"Another king! That makes five to your two, Monsieur Alphonse.'

"I have no luck," said Alphonse, complacently. "I give up the game."

"Nonsense!" said Paula, who hardly cared for such an easy victory. But her too obliging adversary had already swept the pieces off the board and risen from his chair. Presently he returned with a parcel wrapped up in tissuepaper, and approached her with

more

embarrassment than the occasion seemed to warrant.

"Mademoiselle Paula," he began, blushing up to the roots of his hair, "I hope you will not-not dislike the liberty I am taking."

Paula, perfectly composed, took the parcel and smilingly opened it, disclosing a large red satin bonbonniere in the shape of a heart, with a pair of turtle-doves in white sugar upon it, and filled to the brim with the finest sugar-plums the little town of Z-- could produce.

"How lovely!" she delightedly exclaimed; "but how can I take such a beautiful present, Monsieur Alphonse? It must have cost heaps and heaps of money."

"It is New Year's Day," said Alphonse, so beseechingly that Paula's scruples vanished, and she rewarded her enamoured swain by putting a bonbon in her mouth.

"How good of you!" said Alphonse, gratefully: "then you do not di-like-the-the outside of the box?"-and he grew still more furiously red.

"I like the inside best," she answered demurely, selecting a large burnt almond.

"I know it is not near pretty