and looked down upon the face of the girl,
seemingly wrapped in sleep. Lily felt the light
from the chandelier in the other room streaming
full and strong upon her closed eyes, and
through her eyelashes she could see her mother
looking down upon her with a strange wild
expression that terrified her—terrified her
only for a moment. When the thought suddenly
flashed through her brain that the
Wild Woman had come to murder her, she
resigned herself, and closed her eyes firmly, in
anticipation of the stroke that would rid her
at once of life and of misery. She was sensible
of something approaching close to her, and
muttered a prayer. She felt a glow of heat
upon her cold brow, and held her breath for the
stroke to fall. It fell. It was a fierce, feverish,
savage kiss imprinted upon her cheek by her
mother for the first time in the girl's memory.

The countess seemed to repent of what she had
done. The moment she had kissed her daughter,
she drew herself up to her full height, her face
reddened, her eyes flashed fire, and she smote
herself upon the mouth savagely, as if to
castigate her lips for the weakness of which
they had been guilty.

The countess retired immediately. Lily
watched her with bated breath, and listened.
She saw the lights go out in the gilded
chamber; she heard her mother stamping and
raging in the bedchamber adjoining. The
chairs, or the chest of drawers, or the towel-
horse, or something had offended her. Then all
was still. Lily fried to compose herself to
sleep; but sleep would not come, she was too
much agitated. She thought, as she always did
when harassed and perplexed, of Edgar. He
was her star in the dark; the pole to which
her heart turned like the trembling needle in
the compass of the cast-away mariner. The
thought passed through her mind once
again, that if she were only Edgar's equal
in position, her misery would cease, and all
would be well. Still she could not sleep.
She rose, lighted her candle, and tried to
read. She could not read. Her attention
wandered to anything except the page upon
which her eyes were bent—wandered at the
end of all to the image of the handsome Edgar
Greyfaunt.

Suddenly her glance fell upon the white
cover of the toilet-table. Woven into its texture,
there was the figure of a bird holding a leaf in
its mouth. Looking about, Lily discovered
behind the looking-glass a hair-brush, the back
and handle of which were ornamented with
mother-of-pearl. That also bore the figure of
the little bird holding the leaf. She had seen
that device before, and remembered it well,
yet could not tell where she had seen it, or
when. Why did she puzzle her throbbing brain
about so trivial a matter? She could not say why,
and yet she did trouble her brain about it. She
went back over her whole life in pursuit of that
little bird back to Siguor Ventimillioni's
show, to Madame de Kergolay's, to the Pension
Marcassin, to the Bunnycastles, to the shop of
Cutwig and Co.; and she found it not. Now
and again she thought she had caught it; but
the little bird fluttered away and escaped from
her hands. But at last she hunted it into a
corner. The little bird had led her to the
hotel at Greenwich, where she sat upon Sir
William Long's knee and played with his seals,
and with the great signet-ring on his finger.
It was upon that signet-ring, and upon a
certain seal, that she had first seen the image of
this little bird with the leaf in its mouth. It
was a crest. How did this crest come here?

Lily asked herself the question, and a thought
rushed into her brain, bringing back some words
long since spoken, some feelings long since
faded, like early leaves, and filling her breast
with a storm of conflicting thoughts. She
looked at the crest again. There was a motto
embroidered underneath. It was "Spes et fortuna."
Fortuna? That must mean fortune;
but what was "Spes"?

Lily fell to sleep at last, with the word upon
her lips, wondering.

THE MOST NORTHERLY TOWN IN
THE WORLD.

HAMMERFEST is the most northerly town in
the world. It is in the province of Finmarken,
and is situated on an island, under lat. 70 deg.
49 min. Towards the south-west it is hemmed
in by steep cliffs. It is truly a barren spot,
though once it is said to have been well
wooded. As a commercial port, Hammerfest is
of some importance. During the summer
months the harbour is crowded with Russian,
English, French, and other vessels. The principal
trade consists in dried codfish, a large
quantity of which is sent to the Mediterranean
ports to be consumed by the Roman Catholics
of Southern Europe.

Were it not for the climatic influence that the
Gulf Stream exerts, Hammerfest, and indeed the
whole northern parts of the Scandinavian peninsula,
would be uninhabitable, and as ice-bound
as Boothia Felix, Victoria Land, &c., and those
desolate regions in the other hemisphere which lie
under the same parallel of latitude. But, as it
is, the sea never freezes along the whole of the
west coast of Norway; icebergs are rarely or
never seen; and it is also owing to this that the
mean temperature in winter at the North Cape
and at Christiania, though thirteen degrees of
latitude lie between them, is one and the same.
Agriculture, of course, cannot be carried on to
any extent in the northern parts of Norway, but
even at Hammerfest barley will ripen, and potatoes
will occasionally arrive at maturity. At
Alien, however, which is six degrees to the
south, vegetable growth goes on with a rapidity
which is quite marvellous. "Barley will grow
two and a half inches, and peas three inches in
the twenty-four hours, and this for several conive
days;" while turnips, radishes, and
lettuces will grow everywhere, where human
beings are to be found to cultivate them.