the Major come in, as white as a sheet, with
two red spots under his eyes, and stooping
more than ever. I knew what he came for ;
but I was not going to be got over by him.
He tried to reason with me as he called it ;
his white gentlemanlike hands shaking and
trembling all the time. He said it was a
dreadful thing to bring shame into, an ancient
family like this. It had given him a great
shock, he said, and had come upon him like
a thunderbolt ; and I must say, sir, I have
always thought the poor gentleman had
nothing to do with the business. I really
pitied him having to do with that woman.
But I told him plainly that when young
Mr. Craven arrived he should hear everything ;
but, until he came, I could and should
do nothing. So he went away as he came.

Ten minutes after I heard a sound of
wheels on the gravel ; and, running over to the
window, saw a chaise all covered with dust
coming hard up the avenue. I suspected
who was inside, and ran down to the door to
meet them. Young Mr. Craven jumped out
first, then came Pawler, and after him a quiet
looking gentleman in black.

"Mrs. Craven here ?" says the young man
going past me.

"We're here sooner than you thought,
Songster," says Pawler, nodding to me.

We all went up-stairs together, and the
gentleman in black (who was a London doctor),
went with Mr. Craven straight to the room of
the late Welbore Craven, Esquire. They said
he was a great professor from the hospitals, and
could find out how people came by their deaths.
So I knew well what they were about in that
room. I staid outside, having no fancy for
such things, and looked out of the window
at the fine park and the great limes. Bless
me, sir, if I didn't see a figure in black
stealing along behind the trees ! I knew her
at the first look, and I turned round to call
out for some one ; but I thought the poor
wretch would have troubles enough of her
own without my bringing more on her. So
I looked out of the window again, to see what
she would do next. When she got to the top
of the hill, beyond the limes, I saw her stop
and wait a little ; presently a man came
out cautiously and joined her ; then they
both disappeared behind the trees.

About an hour after, they came out of the
room. Mr. Craven very wild and excited, and
the others talking with him and trying to keep
him quiet. Where was she ? Where was
she ? he said. Let him have but vengeance,
that was all he wanted. But, the quiet
gentleman from London took him aside into a
corner, and spoke to him a long time very
coolly and soberly, and gradually Mr. Craven
became steadier and listened to him ; and, as
I made it out, they agreed that as she was
gone, it was best to let her go her own way,
and have done with her.

It was all carefully hushed up, and
though there was some talk among the
neighbours, no one, I believe, ever got to hear
how it really happened. I heard a long time
after that, as she died somewhere in France.

Well, sir, it was a queer thing to happen to
a man, wasn't it ?

CHIP.

SODEN.

THERE is still time for a trip to Germany.
The bright September sun often shines all
day long, here where I write, over a glorious
country. Here while I write, I see it rising,
and it tints with rosy hue one of the fairest
landscapes in the world. Far to the south the
horizon is marked by the beautiful lines of
the mountains of the Odenwald, with its
woody Melibocus, having its base veiled by
a light cloud that covers Darmstadt. Here
and there one catches the gleam of a ray of
light upon the river Main. Straight before
me is the little town of Höchst ; and all over
the plain, glowing in mellow tints, are
innumerable fruit-trees, from among which peep
the spires and houses of many villages, among
them, those of the little town of Soden, over
which a thin, blue mist of smoke is gathering.
The foreground of the picture, from the window
of my lodging, is made by the hills at the
base of the Taunus, covered with walnut and
chesnut-trees, famous all over Germany for
their abundant produce. Even of the orchard
fruit a great part, packed in blotting-paper, will
in due time find its way to chilly England.

I say nothing against Baden-Baden,
Wiesbaden, Hombourg, or Kissingen. Their
springs are good, and they who visit them
may spend money and see much of a
certain kind of life. But they who seek
health only, who would see nature, drink the
medicinal waters, and inhale fresh air, should
bear Soden in mind. Perhaps there is no
other spot in Europe where so many and
various medicinal wells are to be found upon
so small a territory. Within the space of a
square English mile, there are more than
fifty ; many of them similar, of course, but
among the twenty that have been examined
chemically some great differences have been
found. Everywhere in the meadows and
gardens one sees wells, sometimes covered
with a stone, sometimes neglected and used
only by the country people, who fill pitchers
out of them at springs which yield draughts
more refreshing and agreeable than Seltzer
water. Most of the wells are cold, but some
are warm, and there is a search now being
made for hot wells, which, no doubt, are to
be discovered.

The merits of Soden as a spa are well
known to the Frankfort people, who send
hither every year their wives and children.
The Frankfort capitalists alone are to be
thanked for the existence of a railway
between Soden and Höchst. The place— now,
by the railway, half an hour's journey from
Frankfort — has not yet been discovered and