Yet, strive as he would — and no man could strive more resolutely - he could not succeed in banishing the image of Isaura. It was with him always; and with it a sense of irreparable loss, of a terrible void, of a pining anguish.

The key to Graham's conduct is now interview. His English prejudices were given; the deep sorrow that took him so deeply rooted, that, even if he had been to the tomb of the aunt he so revered, wholly free from the trust bequeathed to and whose honoured memory was sub- him, he would have recoiled from marjected to so great a risk; the slightness riage with a girl who, in the ardour for of change in his expenditure and mode of notoriety, could link herself with such aslife, after an inheritance supposed to be sociates as Gustave Rameau, by habits a so ample; the abnegation of his political Bohemian, and by principles a Socialist. ambition; the subject of his inquiries, In flying from Paris, he embraced the and the cautious reserve imposed upon resolve to banish all thought of wedding them; above all, the position towards Isaura and to devote himself sternly to Isaura in which he was so cruelly placed. the task which had so sacred a claim upon Certainly, his first thought in revolving him. Not that he could endure the idea the conditions of his trust had been that of marrying another, even if the lost heirof marriage with this lost child of Rich-ess should be all that his heart could have ard King's, should she be discovered sin- worshipped, had that heart been his own gle, disengaged, and not repulsive to his to give; but he was impatient of the burinclinations. Tacitly he subscribed to den heaped on him,-of the fortune which the reasons for this course alleged by the might not be his, of the uncertainty which deceased. It was the simplest and readi- paralyzed all his ambitious schemes for est plan of uniting justice to the rightful the future. inheritor with care for a secret so important to the honour of his aunt, of Richard King himself-his benefactor, of the illustrious house from which Lady Janet had sprung. Perhaps, too, the consideration that by this course a fortune so useful to his career was secured, was not And the success of his inquiries at Aixwithout influence on the mind of a man la-Chapelle, while sufficient to detain him naturally ambitious. But on that consid- in the place, was so slight, and advanced eration he forebade himself to dwell. He by such slow degrees, that it furnished no put it away from him as a sin. Yet, to continued occupation to his restless mind. marriage with any one else, until his mis- M. Renard was acute and painstaking. sion was fulfilled, and the uncertainty as But it was no easy matter to obtain any to the extent of his fortune was dispelled, trace of a Parisian visitor to so popular there interposed grave practical obsta- a Spa so many years ago. The name Ducles. How could he honestly present val, too, was so common, that at Aix, as himself to a girl and to her parents in the we have seen at Paris, time was wasted light of a rich man, when in reality he in the chase of a Duval who proved not might be but a poor man? how could he to be the lost Louise. At last M. Renard refer to any lawyer the conditions which chanced on a house in which, in the year rendered impossible any settlement that 1849, two ladies from Paris had lodged for touched a shilling of the large sum which three weeks. One was named Madame at any day he might have to transfer to Duval, the other Madame Marigny. They another? Still, when once fully conscious were both young, both very handsome, how deep was the love with which Isaura and much of the same height and colourhad inspired him, the idea of wedlock ing. But Madame Marigny was the handwith the daughter of Richard King, if she somer of the two. Madame Duval freyet lived and was single, became inad- quented the gaming-tables, and was apmissible. The orphan condition of the parently of very lively temper. Madame young Italian smoothed away the obsta- Marigny lived very quietly, rarely or never cles to proposals of marriage which would stirred out, and seemed in delicate health. have embarrassed his addresses to girls She, however, quitted the apartment someof his own rank, and with parents who what abruptly, and, to the best of the would have demanded settlements. And lodging-house-keeper's recollection, took if he had found Isaura alone on that day rooms in the country near Aix - she could on which he had seen her last, he would not remember where. About two months doubtless have yielded to the voice of his after the departure of Madame Marigny, heart, avowed his love, wooed her own, Madame Duval also left Aix, and in comand committed both to the tie of betroth-pany with a French gentleman who had al. We have seen how rudely such yearn- visited her much of late-a handsome ings of his heart were repelled on that last man of striking appearance. The lodging

removing the child, had asked for all the envelopes or letters and carried them away with her. Madame Hubert, who

was as little of a scholar as her aunt-inlaw was, had never paid much attention to the post-marks on the envelopes; and the only one that she did remember was the first, that contained a bank-note, and that post-mark was "Vienna.”

"But did not Madame Marigny's letters ever give you an address to which to write with news of her child?"

been skilfully forged) he had hitherto attached no importance.

CHAPTER VII.

No satisfactory result attended the inquiries made at Munich save indeed this certainty the certificates attesting the decease of some person calling herself Louise Duval had not been forged. They were indubitably genuine. A lady bearing that name had arrived at one of the principal hotels late in the evening, and "I don't think she cared much for her had there taken handsome rooms. She child, monsieur. She kissed it very was attended by no servant, but accomcoldly when she came to take it away. Ipanied by a gentleman, who, however, told the poor infant that that was her own mamma and Madame said, 'Yes, you may call me maman,' in a tone of voice well, not at all like that of a mother. She brought with her a little bag which contained some fine clothes for the child, and was very impatient till the child had got them on."

"Are you quite sure it was the same lady who left the child?"

left the hotel as soon as he had seen her lodged to her satisfaction. The books of the hotel still retained the entry of her name Madame Duval, Française, ren

tière. On comparing the handwriting of this entry with the letter from Richard King's first wife, Graham found it differ; but then it was not certain, though probable, that the entry had been written by the alleged Madame Duval herself. She "Oh, there is no doubt of that. She was visited the next day by the same was certainly très belle, but I did not fan- gentleman who had accompanied her on cy her as aunt did. She carried her head arriving. He dined and spent the evenvery high, and looked rather scornful. ing with her. But no one at the hotel However, I must say she behaved very could remember what was the gentlegenerously." man's name, nor even if he were "Still you have not answered my ques-nounced by any name. He never called tion whether her letters contained no ad- again. Two days afterwards, Madame dress."

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to Madame M

She never wrote more than two letters. One enclosing the first remittance was but a few lines, saying that if the child was well and thriving, I need not write; but if it died or became dangerously ill, I might at any time write a line Poste Restante, Vienna. She was travelling about, but the letter would be sure to reach her sooner or later. The only other letter I had was to apprise me that she was coming to remove the child, and might be expected in three days after the receipt of her letter."

"And all the other communications from her were merely remittances in blank envelopes?"

"Exactly so."

Graham, finding he could learn no more, took his departure. On his way home, meditating the new idea that his adventure that day suggested, he resolved to proceed at once, accompanied by M. Renard, to Munich, and there learn what particulars could be yet ascertained respecting those certificates of the death of Louise Duval, to which (sharing Richard King's very natural belief that they had

an

Duval was taken ill; a doctor was sent for, and attended her till her death. This doctor was easily found. He remembered the case perfectly-congestion of the lungs, apparently caused by cold caught on her journey. Fatal symptoms rapidly manifested themselves, and she died on the third day from the seizure. She was a young and handsome woman. He had asked her during her short illness if he should not write to her friends — if there were no one she would wish to be sent for. She replied that there was only one friend, to whom she had already written, and who would arrive in a day or two. And on inquiring, it appeared that she had written such a letter, and taken it herself to the post on the morning of the day she was taken ill.

She had in her purse not a large sum, but money enough to cover all her expenses, including those of her funeral, which, according to the law in force at the place, followed very quickly on her decease. The arrival of the friend to whom she had written being expected, her effects were, in the meanwhile, scaled up. The day after her death a letter arrived for her, which was opened. It was

After a prolonged but fruitless stay at Munich, Graham and M. Renard repaired to Vienna; there, at least, Madame Marigny had given an address, and there she might be heard of.

evidently written by a man, and apparent- | amination by the civil authorities. In ly by a lover. It expressed an impas- fact, it was clear that poor Louise Duval sioned regret that the writer was unavoid- had been considered as an adventuress by ably prevented returning to Munich so the hotel-keeper and the medical attendsoon as he had hoped, but trusted to see ant at Munich; and her death had excithis dear bouton de rose in the course of ed so little interest, that it was strange the following week; it was only signed that even so many particulars respecting Achille, and gave no address. Two or it could be gleaned. three days after, a lady, also young and handsome, arrived at the hotel, and inquired for Madame Duval. She was greatly shocked at hearing of her decease. When sufficiently recovered to bear being questioned as to Madame Duval's relations and position, she appeared confused; said, after much pressing, that she was no relation to the deceased; that she believed Madame Duval had no relations with whom she was on friendly terms, at least she had never heard her speak of any; and that her own acquaintance with the deceased, though cordial, was very recent. She could or would not give any clue to the writer of the letter signed Achille, and she herself quitted Munich that evening, leaving the impression that Madame Duval had been one of those ladies who, in adopting a course of life at variance with conventional regulations, are repudiated by their relations, and probably drop even their rightful

names.

Achille never appeared; but a few days after, a lawyer at Munich received a letter from another at Vienna requesting, in compliance with a client's instructions, the formal certificates of Louise Duval's death. These were sent as directed, and nothing more about the ill-fated woman was heard of. After the expiration of the time required by law, the seals were removed from the effects, which consisted of two malles and a dressing-case. But they only contained the articles appertaining to a lady's wardrobe or toilet. No letters -not even another note from Achille - no clue, in short, to the family or antecedents of the deceased. What then had become of these effects, no one at the hotel could give a clear or satisfactory account. It was said by the mistress of the hotel, rather sullenly, that they had, she supposed, been sold by her predecessor, and by order of the authorities, for the benefit of the poor.

If the lady who had represented herself as Louise Duval's acquaintance had given her own name, which doubtless she did, no one recollected it. It was not entered in the books of the hotel, for she had not lodged there; nor did it appear that she had allowed time for formal ex

At Vienna, however, no research availed to discover a trace of any such person, and in despair Graham returned to England in the January of 1870, and left the further prosecution of his inquiries to M. Renard, who, though obliged to transfer himself to Paris for a time, promised that he would leave no stone unturned for the discovery of Madame Marigny; and Graham trusted to that assurance when M. Renard, rejecting half of the large gratuity offered him, added, Je suis Français; this with me has ceased to be an affair of money; it has become an affair that involves my amour propre.”

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CHAPTER VIII.

But

IF Graham Vane had been before caressed and courted for himself, he was more than ever appreciated by polite society, now that he added the positive repute of wealth to that of a promising intellect. Fine ladies said that Graham Vane was a match for any girl. Eminent politicians listened to him with a more attentive respect, and invited him to selecter dinner-parties. His cousin the Duke urged him to announce his candidature for the county, and purchase back, at least, the old Stamm-schloss. Graham obstinately refused to entertain either proposal, continued to live as economically as before in his old apartments, and bore with an astonishing meekness of resignation the unsolicited load of fashion heaped upon his shoulders. At heart he was restless and unhappy. The mission bequeathed to him by Richard King haunted his thoughts like a spectre not to be exorcised. Was his whole life to be passed in the weary sustainment of an imposture which in itself was gall and wormwood to a nature constitutionally frank and open? Was he for ever to ap pear a rich man and live as a poor one? Was he till his deathbed to be doomed a sordid miser whenever he refused a just claim on his supposed wealth, and to feel his ambition excluded from the objects it

earnestly coveted, and which he was forced, fine writing, I daresay, but above me. I to appear too much of an Epicurean philosopher to prize?

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go in forLes Mystères de Paris' or Monte Christo.' But I even find Georges More torturing than all else to the Sand a bore," then as a critic Graham man's innermost heart was the con- Vane fired up, extolled the roman he sciousness that he had not conquered, would have given his ears for Isaura could not conquer, the yearning love with never to have written; but retired from which Isaura had inspired him, and yet the contest muttering only, "How can I that against such love all his reasonings, – I, Gradam Vane - how can I be such all his prejudices, more stubbornly than an idiot - how can I in every hour in the ever were combined. In the French twenty-four sigh to myself, 'What are newspapers which he had glanced over other women to me? - Isaura, Isaura!'" while engaged in his researches in Ger

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From Macmillan's Magazine. NIAGARA.*

many nay, in German critical journals themselves - he had seen so many notices of the young author-highly eulogistic, it is true, but which to his peculiar notions were more offensive than if they had been sufficiently condemnatory It is one of the disadvantages of readof her work to discourage her from its ing books about natural scenery that they repetition, notices which seemed to fill the mind with pictures, often exaggerhim the supreme impertinences which no ated, often distorted, often blurred, and, man likes exhibited towards the woman even when well drawn, injurious to the to whom he would render the chivalrous freshness of first impressions. Such has homage of respect. Evidently this girl been the fate of most of us with regard to had become as much public property as the Falls of Niagara. There was little if she had gone on the stage. Minute accuracy in the estimates of the first obdetails of her personal appearance of servers of the cataract. Startled by an the dimples on her cheek of the white-exhibition of power so novel and so grand, ness of her arms of her peculiar way emotion leaped beyond the control of the of dressing her hair anecdotes of her judgment, and gave currency to notions from childhood (of course invented, regarding the waterfall which have often but how could Graham know that?) of led to disappointment. the reasons why she had adopted the A record of a voyage in 1535 by a profession of author instead of that of French mariner named Jacques Cartier, the singer of the sensation she had contains, it is said, the first printed allucreated in certain salons (to Graham, who sion to Niagara. In 1603 the first map of knew Paris so well, salons in which he the district was constructed by a Frenchwould not have liked his wife to appear) man named Champlain. In 1648 the Jes- of the compliments paid to her by uit Rageneau, in a letter to his superior grands seigneurs noted for their liaisons at Paris, mentions Niagara as “a catawith ballet-dancers, or by authors whose ract of frightful height." In the winter genius soared far beyond the flammantia of 1678 and 1679 the cataract was visited mania of a world confined by respect for by Father Hennepin, and described in a one's neighbours' land-marks,-all this, book dedicated "to the King of Great which belongs to ground of personal gos- Britain." He gives a drawing of the wasip untouched by English critics of fe- terfall, which shows that serious changes male writers ground especially favoured have taken place since his time. He deby Continental, and, I am grieved to say, scribes it as "a great and prodigious caby American journalists, all this was to dence of water, to which the universe the sensitive Englishman much what the does not offer a parallel." The height of minute inventory of Egeria's charms the fall, according to Hennepin, was more would have been to Numa Pompilius. than 600 feet. "The waters," he says, The Nymph, hallowed to him by secret "which fall from this great precipice do devotion, was vulgarized by the noisy foam and boil in the most astonishing hands of the mob, and by the popular manner, making a noise more terrible voices, which said, "We know more about Egeria than you do." And when he returned to England, and met with old friends familiar to Parisian life, who said, "Of course you have read the Cicogna's roman. What do you think of it? Very

LIVING AGE.

VOL. II. 91

A Discourse delivered in the Royal Institution of Great Britain, on Friday, 4th April, 1873. Brooklyn by its author, Mr. Holly, some of these data are derived: Hennepin, Kalm, Bakewell, Lyell, Hall and others, I have myself consulted.

From an interesting little book presented to me at