to him, and I'm sure, Edward only requires
to know you as well as I do, to see that I
can never be happy with any one else."

"Dearest girl!  you make me happier than
ever I was before."

"You are always so kind and trusting—"
continued Phillis,—and Delamour looked
searchingly in her face—

"You are so generous and open and
unsuspicious—"

A cloud darkened on the lover's brow—

"And I'm sure you'll be great friends with
Edward, and indeed with all the Blazers, for
he says they are the most gentlemanly fellows
in the world. It will be so pleasant when he
brings some of them here!"

"I trust he won't, for a more disgusting set
of snobs and puppies——but, pray, excuse
me, dearest Phillis, your assurance of affection
is all I require, and I laugh at the
pretentions of a whole regiment of Belfords;
so let them come whenever they like."

He was delighted with the transparent
truth and simplicity of his artless Phillis,
and took his way to London more satisfied
with her (and himself) than ever. But on
reflection—and he took three days at least to
reflect—he perceived, that he must come to
an understanding with his rival.

It was necessary for his self-respect that he
should show that gentleman how thoroughly
he despised him, and accordingly he wrote
an insulting letter to the distinguished Blazer,
and was about to send it to the post,
when his servant entered with a card, and
said, ''the gentleman is in the hall."

Delamour looked at the card, and saw
printed thereon the name of "Captain
Belford."

"Show him in," he said, and prepared for
battle. There was no battle in the face or
manner of his visitor, however. Fair, honest,
happy-looking, as becomes perfect health
and three-aud-twenty years of age, the
captain smiled graciously as he entered.

"You are surprised to see me here, Mr.
Wormwood," he said; "but the fact is, I
think it right to come to an explanation."

"Exactly what I wished, sir,"  said Delamour,
biting his lips.

"My friend, Ned Daisyfield,"  he
continued, "is too flattering in his estimate
of my merits. He wished me, of
course, you know, to offer my hand to his
sister. He introduced me to her two days
ago. A charming girl, I confess—very pure,
very beautiful, and as her aunt is rich, I
believe, an heiress, if she pleases the old
lady in the choice of a husband. I dare
say time and assiduity, with the favour of
her brother, might enable me to make an
impression on her heart; but—I am not
going to try—I resign all claim into your
hands, and trust sincerely you will make
her happy, for no one can deserve it more.
Good morning."

Before Delamour could recover from
his surprise, the visitor was gone. "Before
I had time to call him to order for his
behaviour at Neddithorpe, for he is Harleigh's
companion,"  he muttered; "and yet he is
a fine fellow—open—noble—and very
handsome. Why has he surrendered his chance
of Phillis?  He admires her beauty, her
character, and knows she is to have a
fortune—How kind!—But is it not rather
strange?  Why is he so absurdly friendly?
Ah!"—And here for an hour he sank into a
fit of musing. "Can he have heard
anything about Phillis?  Is there a vulgar
Strephon after all, with his disgusting pipe?
I don't like this."  And he smiled as he
went out—perhaps he laughed when he
reached the street.  "He rejects her. There
must be a reason"—And here he mused
again.

.At the end of three hours' meditation, he
packed up all his traps, supplied himself with
circular notes, took out his passport, and
went, sulking, gloomy, and quarrelling,
through France and Italy for three years.
At the end of that time he came home.
On landing at Southampton he saw a face
he knew. Curiosity as to what had
become of Phillis, induced him to speak. He
went up and held out his hand. "Captain
Belford," he said. " I fear you have
forgotten me."

"Oh, not at all," replied the gentleman;
"you are Mr. Wormwood,—but I am not
Captain Belford; I am Ned Daisyfield, Phillis's
brother. I called on you, and pretended to
be Belford; it was only to try you, for Phillis
had written you were of a sour, suspicious
disposition; but she didn't wish to offend
her aunt, who supported your cause. The
bait took. You thought something must be
wrong,—some trick intended against yourself,
—and gave poor Phillis up, without
condescending to assign any reason. Charley
Belford stept in. In a fortnight Phillis was
quite reconciled to my choice. They have
been married more than two years——and
I have the honour to wish you a remarkably
good day."

DISINFECTANTS.

AFTER all, in many of our modern social
improvements, we do but go back to the wisdom
of our ancestors: we do not deserve the whole
merit of invention. In certain sanitary
practices, for instance, the ancients were farther
advanced than we are at present—infinitely
farther than we have been until quite lately.
Take the questions of ventilation and
disinfection, as treated of in Dr. Angus Smith's
careful and comprehensive paper, published in
the Journal of the Society of Arts; and let us
see how far we have gone beyond or lagged
behind the sanitary expedients which were
fashionable when the Pyramids were being
built, and Penelope was weaving her
bewildering web; or, later, when Constantine sat