Oxford. Down the centre runs a long table, covered with all the materia's for an excellent breakfast. By the way I may here mention that Oxford is the only place where that meal is properly recognised. Men may di or sup in London or Paris, but they breakfast only at Oxford. Pate's de foie gras and game pies jostle each other; cold fowl and spatch cocks. divide the attention of the guests, whilst at the head of the table appears a boar's head, with a noble collar of brawn for its vis-a-vis. Tea, coffee, and chocolate await the ladies, whilst a row of huge silver tankards, jugs, and long-necked bottles, immersed in pails, denote that drinkables are provided for the males. The bay windows are deep and cushioned, and look out of a noble lawn, some three hundred yards long by about hundred wide, surrounded by rows of giant chesnut trees. The few plots given up to flowers are blooming with the gorgeous red of the geranium, or the delicate pink of the rose. It is early, and but few sounds are yet abroad to drown the hum of the bees as they buzz among the flowers under the window, or among the ivy which creeps up the ancient wall, and the cheerful songs of the birds chirrupping from the dense foliage encircling the lawn. Having described as well as I can the scene, let me now introduce some "dramatis persona."

In the foreground, sitting in one of the bay windows, with one elbow on the sill and her chin resting on her hand, is a young lady who, while enjoying the beauty of the prospect before her, yet seems not averse to listening to the whisperings of a young gentleman who stands near her. She had taken off her bonnet and shawl, and appeared in a plain muslin dress, made close enough to set forth a neat figure, while a small net served to confine a luxuriant mass of true golden hair, a lock of which peeps out from its cage. In the other window a similar scene is being enacted, only that the parties do not seem on such familiar terms, and instead of one, three gentlemen. In the distance sit an elderly gentleman and a lady of middle age, the former wondering when the deuce breakfast will begin, the latter wondering inwardly whether the owner of the rooms had paid for the fittings or not.

After looking for some time towards the garden, the young lady turns and addresses her companion.

"So, Master Harry, you have actually become the successor of royalty in your lodgings, or rooms, whichever you call them. Heigh-ho, you have no business to be half so comfortable; has he, Mamma?"

The elderly lady thus appealed to, no other than the Mrs. Grenfell described in another chapter, shook her head, and shaking a finger at my unworthy self, said

"I don't blame him for being comfortable, Fanny; but I think he is somewhat too luxurious. There are too many easy chairs (Mrs. Grenfell was in earnest) to admit of hard study."

"Come Mamma," said Fanny, "you must not be angry with him for that at this time. How do you know that he has not borrowed from all his friends, in order to accommodate us." And as her mother looked doubtful she added-" Why, you know, Dick did that when the colours were presented to his regiment, and his room was made into a ladies dressing room."

I regret to say that I was at the time so overwhelmed with the anxieties of hospitality, and fears lest my breakfast should not come off well, that I could only thank Fanny by a whisper without replying to her mother.

In the same tone of voice she replied-"Upon my word, Harry, I shall begin to believe you a muff if you don't fight your own battles. Do say something for yourself."

Just at that moment the door was opened, and the remainder of the guests entered. Before I proceed I think a short retrospect may be allowed me, and in as few words as I can I will rapidly go over the trivial incidents which occured since the last parting between the reader and myself. A month's country seclusion at Grenfell park had quite restored the use of my arm, while the squire's sound advice and port brought me to the realisation of Horace's wish

"Mens sana in corpore sano."

In due course of time I entered St. Peter's College, Oxford, and at the period I am now speaking of was in my second year of residence. On one or two occasions I had, whilst passing through town, met M. de la Ribaudière, but Madame de Langear had disappeared shortly after my accident. Dick wrote to me that he had called at Bridge New Villa about a week after I left town, and that to his disgust the house was to be let. I did not tell him that since then I had received two letters from the lady, one previous to her leaving England, and another but a short time before this very commemoration, announcing her return. The Grenfells, being in town for a short time, had come to Oxford for the commemoration, and in their honour I was giving a large breakfast to every lady I knew.

The new arrivals were the sisters of a St. Peter's man, named Swingfield, and the cousins of a Baliol man who had been in the same house with me at Harchester, of course with the attendant mammas. The Barkfords, such was their name, apologized for bringing with them an uninvited guest, a Mr. Dashwood, whom they had met at a watering-place in the west the previous vacation. I happened to be looking towards my cousins as the party entered, and great was my astonishment to see the colour rise rapidly to Fanny's cheek, and as suddenly disappear, as the stranger bowed to her and then to Mrs. Grenfell. After a hasty introduction the party sat down to breakfast, and a general buzz of conversation began. Mrs. Grenfell was on my right, and Fanny on my left. Just below the latter was a man of my College, and next to him sat one of Swingfield's sisters. Dashwood was at the other end of the table. Miss Swingfield, I soon perceived, was of the gushing order of young ladies, and expressed her praise of Oxford in superlatives, while Fanny, to whom she often addressed herself, could, I saw, barely restrain the contemptuous smile which was rising on her lips, and answered her very shortly.

"What is the matter, Fan ?" I at length whispered. annoyed you. Tell me what it is."

"Something has

"How came you to have that disagreeable Mr. Dashwood to meet me? I wish you would select your friends better."

"I assure you I never knew him before," was my answer. "The Barkfords brought him with them. Do you know him ?"

"Yes," said Fanny, "we met him at Weymouth last year. Don't talk of him, I hate the little brute; and that simpering young lady, too,-I suppose she's one of your special friends ?"

"Why are you so cross with me, Fanny," I answered; "you know I have done and am doing my best to make your stay here pleasant, and yet-"

"Yes, yes, Harry, I know I ought not; but I have a bad habit

as you know, of speaking my mind, and I hate a girl who talks as does."

"You seem to hate a good many people, cousin mine,” said I; hope I am not included in the number."

"Don't be stupid," answered Miss Fanny; and just at that more, Miss Swingfield leant over towards her, and with a look of intense admi tion asked if she did not think my rooms the sweetest, doatiest en seen?

"As for sweetness," said Fanny, "there is far too much stale toba smoke about them. By the way," turning to me, "I hope you have sou decent weeds, Harry? Of course, Miss Swingfield, you do at Rome as t Romans do, so at Oxford you must smoke."

Miss Swingfield opened her eyes at this proposition, coming from t mouth of my neatly but quietly dressed cousin, and uttered in accents s ladylike horror, mitigated by the reverence due to a relative of the giver d the feast

me! Ya

"I smoke!" she said. "Goodness gracious, it would kill me ! don't mean to say that you do ?"

"At home we have our cigar regularly after breakfast, luncheon, and dinner," answered the unblushing Fanny. Then in a whisper to me"Was not that a dreadful fib! but I felt that if I did not get rid of he soon she would plague me the whole week."

Miss Swingfield's next neighbour, a gentlemanly Eton lad, in his first year at the University, who was quite as much puzzled at Fanny's behaviou as was Miss Swingfield, seeking what he thought was some chance of fun. asked what brand she preferred. Fanny gave him one look which shewed him his mistake, and then went on with her conversation with me.

"One thing I have not yet told you, Harry, and mamma meant it as a great surprise for you. We think of going for a Continental trip. To tell you the truth, papa has had some disagreeables about the hounds, and—” "I see," said I, “ you have arranged the trip. Well; what next ?” "What next? Why you must come with us: you know the Continent."

"Indeed no only Paris."

"Well, Paris is just the place I insist on staying at. I mean to pick up my French by ordering dresses and bonnets at the modistes; I mean to go to every place of amusement, to do everything, to see everything, and to have my own way in all things, therefore you must come to escort me about."

I could not conceive what caused Fanny to run on in this way.

"Do you know, Fanny," I whispered, "I fear you are growing 'fast." "Don't say that again, Harry, or I will never forgive you. You ought to know me better than to think I could ever be the vain, empty-headed, glittering thing called a 'fast' girl. Shame on you, Harry. There now, pray give me some fowl or something, people are looking at you

I helped her, and looked round the table to watch how things were getting on. Mrs. Grenfell was deep in a discussion with Swingfield père as to the efficacy of model cottages, each of the young ladies-not forgetting my cousin Beatrice-was rapidly demolishing the hearts of the undergraduates in the room, and the worthy squire had, in a sotto voce key, begged my scout to let him try the "Court Ale," of which he had heard so much. Dashwood was describing Oxford to Mrs. Barkford, but every now and then I could catch a sidelong glance towards the corner where sat my

retty cousin, and notwithstanding her evident annoyance she fully justified ny epithet. She was pretty. There was no feature in her face which you could have pronounced handsome, there was merely the tout ensemble of pleasing features, and a winning smile, which first made you thinkThat's a nice looking girl," and end by saying, "Well, she is an uncommonly pretty girl." I certainly puzzled my brain as to what connection here could be between the two, and on further consideration I fully echoed my cousin's sentiments. Dashwood was a good-looking fellow, well dressed, with an easy carriage, and well-bred manner, but what annoyed me was that I deemed I perceived a certain superciliousness in his manner in the way he looked round the room and called Miss Barkford's attention to the various fittings. I determined to pay him off for it, and I soon had an opportunity I did not expect. On the termination of the breakfast I of course handed round my cigar case, proposing a stroll in the gardens. By the time it reached the bottom of the table it was empty, so, regretting the trouble I was giving him, I begged Dashwood to open a small cupboard and bring out a box. He had no sooner done so than a fierce growl, a snap, and a rattle of a chain were heard, and Dashwood withdrew his arm with an oath

"What do you mean by this, sir ?" said he, turning to me ashy pale, while his coat sleeve hung in tatters. "Confound you, sir-"

"Hush, sir," interposed Mr. Grenfell, "remember there are ladies present."

"A thousand pardons! but really these practical jokes tax the temper." I then broke in-"I must really apologise; but I had no idea the dog was in the cupboard. It is a favourite bull-terrier, and when I told my scout to put her out of the sight of the ladies, I certainly never thought he would have selected my cigar-cupboard as her kennel. Can I lend you a coat ?"

The apology was received with a very bad grace, and Dashwood left the party as we sallied out into the gardens. At twelve o'clock we entered the Sheldonian Theatre, and the entry of the ladies was the signal for the usual shouts of "Three cheers for the lady in pink!" "Three cheers for the blue bonnet!" &c. My cousin was especially distinguished, as she received an ovation, not only as the lady in the green muslin," but also as "The lady with golden hair." The proceedings went off capitally; the proctors were popular, and consequently were not hissed. Three or four distinguished Englishmen and foreigners received their honorary degrees, and the usual amount of bad English and Latin was spouted by the fortunate gainers of the prizes. A luncheon in the hall of St. Peter's followed, and then we adjourned to the gardens, where a large marquee was pitched, in which grave and reverend Dons dispensed iced cups of all descriptions to all comers. Part of the elegantly-dressed company devoted their attention to performances of that most exquisite of all Choral Societies the Orpheus Club, whilst all around could be heard the welcome greetings of old college friends meeting again after many years.

"Jack Longstreet! is that you?" literally shouted a dignified personage in a huge scarlet gown to another dressed in the every-day costume of the British swell. "They told me you were killed in Afghanistan."

"Not a bit of it, my dear old boy. Come with me, and I'll introduce you to my wife. What are you doing now?"

"Mine's here too-I'm an Indian Judge; and you?"

"Still at the old trade-I'm a Colonel."

Such and such like recognitions met my ears as I was taking Fancy a shady bench under the chesnuts, where I meant to find out how she got acquainted with Dashwood. We sat down, and I asked her question point blank.

"I met Mr. Dashwood at a ball in Weymouth," was her answer, “a danced with him several times. Shortly afterwards a very nice Fre lady came to the place, and Mr. Dashwood behaved very rudely to br She was alone with only her daughter, and had to appeal to a gentlen we knew, who I believe inflicted the punishment this Dashwood so ric deserved. We knew nothing of this; and as he was very attentive : Beatrice and me, we used to get much quizzed on this subject. However, ∞ day I met this lady-a Madame de Longueville-such a nice person, a she told me about him. Since then I have never set eyes on him. By th way, did you ever know Madame de Longueville abroad? She found or you were my cousin, and asked me a lot of questions about you ?”

"What was she like?"

"Tall, very dark hair and eyes-a most beautiful woman, with rathe too masculine an expression of haughtiness in her features."

"Yes," I said, "I think I knew her." In my mind no doubt existed as to the identity of Madame de Langear and Madame de Longueville. "Do you know where she is now ?"

"Gone back to France, I think. How is it you never said anything about her to us? Tell me, Harry, are you-what shall I call it ?spooney in that matter? Ah ha! mon cousin, have I caught you? You're blushing, Harry!"

"You are talking nonsense," said I; "but tell me, did you ever meet Duk?"

"Duk? No. Why? What makes you ask such a question ?"

"Oh, nothing; only I know how susceptible Duk is, and if he had met such a paragon as you describe "—

"I did nothing of the kind; and I insist on your immediately telling me all you know about this lady. Now, Harry, you know I am accustomed to be obeyed, and if I do not hear all about her before I leave this bench, not one dance shall you have with me at any of the balls to which we are asked."

"It's too long a story, Fanny," I said.

Come

"There is a story then? Well, long or short I must hear it. somewhere where you can smoke your cigar, and tell your cousin, who you know has a deep interest in anything that affects those two scamps her brother and her cousin."

We turned down one of the walks, and after obtaining a promise of secrecy, I divulged whatever I could without breaking my oath.

Fanny's countenance altered very much during the recital, and at the end she turned to me

"Harry, I did not give you credit for so much pluck and spirit; but I hope you have given up your absurd ideas."

"Absurd! My ideas absurd! Because the conduct of the men employed to work out a good result is bad, is that any reason why the ideas from which it proceeds should be absurd ?"

"You have distressed me very much, Harry. Do you dare to tell me that one of our race is disloyal to his Queen ?"

"I do not acknowledge the sovereignty of any one individual."

Fanny stopped and with a heightened colour looked me full in the face.