borrowed light, and borrows every ray she can
find."

"And Lady Delafield writes you word———"

"That Ashleigh Sumner is caught by Lilian's
beauty."

"And Lilian herself——— "

"Women like Lady Delafield do not readily
believe that any girl would refuse Ashleigh
Sumner; considered in himself, he is steady and
good-looking; considered as owner of Kirby Hall
and Haughton Park, he has, in the eyes of any
sensible mother, the virtues of Cato, and the
beauty of Autinous."

I pressed my hand to my heart— close to my
heart lay a letter from Lilian— and there was no
word in that letter which showed that her heart
was gone from mine. I shook my head gently,
and smiled in confiding triumph.

Mrs. Poyntz surveyed me with a bent brow
and a compressed lip.

"I understand your smile," she said, ironically.
"Very likely Lilian may be quite
untouched by this young man's admiration, but
Anne Ashleigh may be dazzled by so brilliant
a prospect for her daughter. And, in short, I
thought it desirable to let your engagement be
publicly known throughout the town to-day;
that information will travel— it will reach Ashleigh
Sumner through Mr. Vigors, or others in this
neighbourhood, with whom I know that he
corresponds. It will bring affairs to a crisis, and
before it may be too late. I think it well that
Ashleigh Sumner should leave that house; if he
leave it for good so much the better. And,
perhaps, the sooner Lilian returns to L——- the
lighter your own heart will be."

"And for these reasons you have published
the secret of——- "

"Your engagement? Yes. Prepare to be
congratulated wherever you go. And now, if you
hear, either from mother or daughter, that
Ashleigh Sumner has proposed, and been, let us say,
refused, I do not doubt that in the pride of your
heart you will come and tell me."

"Rely upon it I will; but before I take my
leave, allow me to ask, why you described to a
young man like Mr. Margrave— whose wild and
strange humours you have witnessed and not
approved— any of those traits of character in
Miss Ashleigh which distinguish her from other
girls of her age?"

"I? You mistake. I said nothing to him of her
character. I mentioned her name, and said she
was beautiful, that was all."

"Nay, you said that she was fond of musing,
of solitude; that in her fancies she believed in
the reality of visions which might flit before
her eyes as they flit before the eyes of all imaginative
dreamers."

"Not a word did I say to Mr. Margrave of
such peculiarities in Lilian; not a word more
than what I have told you, on my honour!"

Still incredulous, but disguising my
incredulity with that convenient smile by which we
accomplish so much of the polite dissimulation
indispensable to the decencies of civilised life, I
took my departure, returned home, and wrote to
Lilian.

THE GENII OF THE LAMPS.

THERE has been little rest during the
present century for underground London. Some
road has always been " up" that pipes may be
laid down, or tunnels may be constructed.
When sewers were not being built, in 1812, the
water companies were changing their rotten
wooden mains for iron pipes that would bear
the pressure necessary for serving their hill
customers. Side by side with the workmen of
the water companies, were other workmen
employed by the then infant gas interest. Coming
down, to our own days, we have railway tunnels,
building or projected, and telegraphic wire-
pipes, and " pneumatic dispatch" tubes
struggling for the few spare feet of underground
roadway. Many of our social scientific
contrivances in London evidently follow the law of
gravitation, and tend towards the centre. It
would be easy for some Oriental traveller to
turn our Chinese population tables against
ourselves, and to show that we have grown too
numerous to live upon the surface. By a stretch
of fancy not at all beyond the powers of
descriptive travellers, it could be shown that if
another man were placed upon this island he
must necessarily drop off into the sea for want
of standing-room.

It would have been a sight worth seeing— a
picture worth drawing— the first laying of a gas-
pipe in London. The landing of Julius Caesar,
the signing of Magna Charta, and the death of
Harold, furnish more romantic groupings for
historical painters; but no one can say that they
were of more historical importance. Civilisation
took a vast stride on that eventful occasion—
the living out-door life of man was lengthened
more than one-half; and yet no one was present
to give the great work a pictorial record. The
battle of Waterloo was a mere puff of smoke
in comparison, for all its deposit of pictures,
statues, and treaties.

Of course the workmen were obedient, but
sceptical. I can imagine them being very much
like the attendant on the alchemists in Teniers's
sketch, who holds the crucible over the fire, in
the attempt to produce gold, as if it were a
vulgar frying-pan, half-full of sausages. It is
easy to call such people louts, and to judge them
by what we know now, rather than by what was
known then; but such louts represent a very
wholesome degree of scepticism. For one
discovery that has lived through the practical test
of application, and has really benefited the
world, a thousand have been the pet children of
quacks and visionaries. Until the new comer
makes good its claim to be considered something
beyond the common herd, we save our time,
our money, and our labour, by regarding it
cautiously.

The discoverers of gas-lighting had no more
than ordinary difficulties to contend with in applying