struggle on—Georgina. He reached his
home, and found that she had fled from the
falling house. Her letter, proving beyond
all possibility of self-delusion that her heart
was entirely hardened against him, had
broken down the last remnant of his courage,
and he had resolved, to die by his own hand.
Mr. Lovegrove thought long and anxiously
as to the course it behoved him to follow;
and at length, after a conversation which
lasted far into the night, he made the
following propositions to Mr. Frost. First,
that the latter should retire from the
partnership, giving up his share of the
business to Augustus, who was now
qualified to take it. For this concession, Mr.
Lovegrove would undertake at once to
settle Hugh Lockwood's claim, and to
make such other advances as might be
agreed on hereafter. Secondly, Frost was
to give his word that he would, as soon as
his retirement from the firm of Frost and
Lovegrove should be announced, call a
meeting of his creditors, and lay his affairs
candidly before them. If a composition
were found to be impracticable, he must
then become a bankrupt; but in an open
and upright manner, giving up whatsoever
property he had without reserve.

Thus the disgrace of having the name of
one of its members in the gazette would
be averted from the firm, which point
weighed a good deal with Mr. Lovegrove.
Finally, Mr. Lovegrove would undertake
to assist his former partner in any way
that might seem on due consideration to
be advisable, and within the limits of what
he (Lovegrove) considered compatible
with justice to his own family. All this
Mr. Lovegrove set forth at length, and
with a clearness of statement which, even
in that depth of misery and despair in
which he found himself, impressed Frost
with a conviction that he had hitherto a
little under-estimated his partner's powers
of mind.

"I am not in the least a sentimental
man, you know, Frost," said Mr. Lovegrove;
"and I do not pretend that in
proposing these arrangements I am not, as
far as is fair and practicable, consulting my
own interests."

Nevertheless, the fact was that the junior
partner was willing to make more than
one sacrifice for the senior, and to treat
him with generosity. But Mr. Lovegrove
would have been much angered had he
been taxed with any such weakness as a
tender desire to spare Sidney Frost's feelings
at the expense of solid advantage to
himself. Frost was broken down in mind
and body. He had no will to oppose to
that of his friend. And he knew in his
heart that the other man was using his
position with forbearing kindness. He
agreed to all.

Mr. Lovegrove deemed it his duty to
admonish Mr. Frost once more with some
sternness on the fatal intention he
entertained.

"Suicide," said he, "is not only criminal,
but cowardly. A man of your sort has
better things to do than to die like a dog,
because he finds life hard."

He extorted from Frost a solemn promise
that he would make no further attempt on
his own life. And he did not leave him
until he had seen him prepared for his
night's rest.

"I think he will sleep," thought Mr.
Lovegrove. "Nature is wearied out. And
I believe there is no further fear of—that!"

Nevertheless, before quitting the house,
Mr. Lovegrove took the precaution of
plunging the loaded pistols into a basin
of water, and then locking them up in the
case damp and dripping as they were.

MASQUERADING IN CUBA.

IT is the twenty-eighth of December, and
the thermometer stands at ninety-two in the
shade. I rise with the garza grulla—my
bird chronometer—a wonderful creature of
the crane species, with a yard of neck, and
two-feet-six of legs. Every morning at six
of the clock precisely, my grulla awakens
me by half-a-dozen gurgling and metallic
shrieks, in a tone loud enough to be heard
by his Excellency the Governor, who is a
sound sleeper, and lives in a big palace half
a league from my abode. I descend from
my Indian grass hammock, and don a suit
of the flimsiest cashmere, in compliment to
the winter month, and because there is still
a taste of night air in the early morning. I
have to manufacture my own café noir
today, for my servants—a stalwart Ethiope
and a youthful mulatto—are both abroad,
and will not return for the next three days.
It is a fiesta and Friday. To-morrow is la
nãpa, or day of grace "thrown in" to the
holiday-makers, to enable them to recruit
their exhausted frames, which they do by
repeating the pleasurable excitement of the
previous day. Then comes Sunday, another
fiesta, which, in most foreign climes, is
another word for day of restlessness.

The leading characteristics in a Cuban