amid opposition and difficulties. Thus, when he left Hillside the last time, the definite understanding with both father and mother was, that Paul and Eirene were affianced, but that, in consideration of the fact that he was not established in his profession, and the more troublesome fact that his mother would bitterly oppose it, the engagement was to be kept secret for a year. Then, Paul declared he would be independent, and able to declare it to the whole world.

"Only a year! Only one little year, my darling!" said Paul, “and then, no more hard work and loneliness. I shall carry you from both, and you will be my wife."

TABITHA MALLANE'S STRATEGY.

Gouty old uncles and grumpy old aunts do sometimes die in season to satisfy their anxiously-waiting relatives. At least, old Comfort Bard died just in the nick of time to please her niece Tabitha. In midwinter Aunt Comfort passed away, and, before the coming of Spring, her share of the Bard homestead, and a very considerable legacy, had passed into the eager hands of Tabitha Mallane. Long before that hour, as she moved about her household, or as she sat before the smouldering fire, while John Mallane slept, she had laid her plans and decided what she would do with it. Once she could have had but one thought concerning it. She would simply have given it to John Mallane, with the words, "Here, father; put it into the business, and secure the interest for the children." But her anxiety for the children together was absorbed and forgotten in her passion concerning one. Paul had already entered an old and noted law-office in Boston as the junior partner. It already had its "solid man," its learned man, and was glad to add, as a special ornament, a young and eloquent advocate. All Busyville declared this to be a great opening for Paul Mallane, though it hastened to add, "He's one of the lucky ones. He always gets what he wants."

Tabitha Mallane resolved that he should come to Busyville in his summer vacation, and, for the first time in his life, find his home, in its aspect, nearer at least to what he wished it to be. She resolved on many other things, of which we shall presently be made aware. If women had spent one tenth of the time and intellect in helping each other, which they have devoted to outwitting and destroying each other, what a different world this would be! If the same talent for management and diplomacy, which they so often use to bring about positive and fatal results in trivial affairs, they had applied to noble ends, how much less cause there would be to bemoan the triviality and personal slavery of woman-a triviality and slavery for which woman herself is as responsible as man.

In the early Spring days, Eirene began to notice most unusual indications about the white house across the street. It was thronged with workmen within and without. In due time, the boxy parlor and a more boxy bed-room, and the yellow sitting-room, were thrown into one drawing-room, with graceful sliding-doors; the kitchen was enlarged into a dining-room, and a new and remote kitchen was commenced to be built in the rear of all. The little old outlooks were lengthened into long French windows opening into a veranda, which extended entirely around the house. This transformation was sufficiently wonderful; but when a strange man came and began to metamorphose the garden, the wonder was complete. Nobody outside of her own heart knew what a pang it cost Tabitha Mallane to give up her garden. It was hard enough to relinquish the yellow sitting-room, and the old cradle in which all her babies had been rocked; but it was harder still to give up that dear plot of ground, with its straight beds of beets, peas, and lettuce, wherein she had so long gathered her own fresh vegetables; wherein, when nobody was looking, she had so often turned up, with her own hands, from the moist mould, new potatoes for din

ner. Through all her weary housekeeping, child-nursing years, it had given her her one pastime-this garden; it was the one bond between her and nature. It had been such a pleasure in the summer evenings, with her children about her, to weed these beds -to water her sturdy sweet-williams and hollyhocks, and watch them grow. But Paul detested them all, and they must be annihilated. Thus the plots were rolled even with the ground, covered with turf, and trimmed with narrow earth-borders, for verbenas, mignonette, and other delicate flowers. Rustic seats were placed under the old cherry and apricot trees, and garden vases for trailing plants were set out in the grass, the crowning marvel to the eyes of the factory folk. The last sacrifice laid on the altar of modern "style" and maternal love and scheming, was the white paint of the house itself. All the old mansions and homesteads of Busyville had been painted white, with bright, blinking green blinds-Tabitha Mallane's delight. But, ever since Paul had read Dickens' "Notes," the vivid brightness of red, white, and green had been an offence in his sight. Thus the painters ascended their ladders, and the white went under a pale tea-color, with heavy cappings of dark wood. When all was complet ed, certainly no accusation could be brought against the house and its garden. The only trouble with it now was, that it was not in harmony with its surroundings. It should have stood isolated, amid its own wide grounds. It looked out of place on a narrow street, opposite the ugly factories, and Seth Goodlove's little unpainted, unsheltered domicile.

While these changes were proceeding toward completion, Paul was surprised, one morning, by the announcement, at his Cambridge quarters, that a lady wished to see him. He was still more surprised when, on entering his parlor, he was confronted by his mother. He did not recognize her at the first glance; she looked so different, in her ladylike gray travelling suit, from the

care-worn woman in a wrapper in the yellow sitting-room at home.

"Why, mother! what brought you here?" said Paul, in a really hearty tone, as, taking in her appearance, he at once saw that she really looked well, and that he need not be ashamed of her.

"You, Paul!" auswered his mother, in a cheerful voice, so different from her Busyville tone. "Sit down, and I will tell you all about it."

He felt at once as if he were in the Busyville sitting-room, now he was told to sit down and to listen; but he did as he was bidden. Then, even the handsome gray travelling suit and the becoming bonnet could not keep Mrs. Tabitha from bending forward with a little swaying motion, as if she were still rocking the cradle and talking to Paul across it.

"I'll sit down, mother, if you'll sit up," said Paul, laughing; "but don't, I beg of you, rock the cradle at me in Cambridge."

"No; I'll do just as you want me to," said Mrs. Mallane, straightening. "I've come to surprise and to please you, and I'm going to do it. Of course, you know about Aunt Comfort's legacy; but you don't know what I've done with it. You'll never be annoyed again with the old sitting-room and the oak paper, nor with the shabbiness of your home, Paul. You have no idea how much feeling I had about it when I could not help it. I knew how hard it was, going in the society you do, and being invited to such places, never to be able to return such hospitality, because you were ashamed of your father's house. You won't know it when you see it. I haven't trusted to my own taste in any respect-for you know I like the old things best, because I've had them all my life-but I sent for the architect who built Squire Arnott's house, which you like so well, and for the man who laid out his grounds, and they have left nothing as it was before. It's handsomer than you can think. Father says that it's altogether too handsome for us, and that I'm crazy, or I wouldn't strike out from the old,

plain way, and use up so much money, instead of putting it in the business. It's for you, Paul. I was determined that once, before you really set up for yourself, you could come to a home into which you would not be ashamed to ask any friend you have. There's Mr. Prescott, who did so much to introduce you into the law-office-you're under obligation to him; and Miss Prescott, and Miss Maynard, or any one you please. I shall be ready for them before August. And I've come down to have you select the furniture and carpets with me; you shall have them just as you like, Paul."

Paul was a good deal astonished, but did not look so supremely delighted as his mother hoped that he would.

His first thought was of Eirene. “This new splendor will only shut her out more completely-poor little girl!" he said to himself. "I've wanted it bad enough. Strange I couldn't have it till it can be of no use to me! Still, I would like to show the Prescotts that I have no reason to be ashamed of my home, as I know they think I have. It would have been a good deal kinder to have given me the money to have begun housekeeping with-Eirene and I."

"I want you to introduce me to the Prescotts, Paul," said Mrs. Mallane. "I would like to go with you to Marlboro Hill."

"I will bring Dick to see you," answered Paul. "But you are my mother, and a stranger," he added, in an imperial tone. "Miss Prescott must call upon you before you visit Marlboro Hill."

After expressing her approbation of his handsome rooms, Mrs. Mallane proposed to return to the city and begin her momentous shopping. Paul, naming an hour when he would join her, proceeded to escort her to the cars. On their way they met Dick Prescott, who was duly presented to Paul's mother. He addressed her with marked deference, adding that he would do himself the honor to call with his sister. They came, the next afternoon, in the stately Prescott barouche, Miss Isabella bringing with her her daintiest costume and VOL. VI.-13

She was

most bewitching manners. most effusive, if not "gushing," to Mrs. Mallane. She was 66 so charmed, so delighted, to meet Mrs. Mallane! Oh, how much you look like your son!" she exclaimed. "I have heard Mr. Mallane speak so often of his mother, I feel as if I had known you always. And you will come out to Marlboro? Oh, do! Drive out in the early evening, and we will take tea on the lawn. It will be so lovely! Please say you will. I shall be so disappointed if you don't."

There was something in Tabitha Mallane which responded to all this. It was from his mother that Paul had inherited his love for fine equipages and stately houses, for the éclat and paraphernalia of wealth and place. To be sure, circumstances had held it suppressed in her nature; but, in spite of many years of drudging and of stocking-darning, it was there. With its first opportunity, the dormant passion sprang alert into life. It pleased her that her callers came in an elegant carriage, with liveried servants. But, with all this conscious pleasure, there was no vulgar betrayal of it. As she received her visitors, she looked not at all out of place, nor did she feel that she was. She felt as perfectly at home in her heavy black silk, as if Aunt Comfort had never owned it or worn it, or as if she herself had never dug new potatoes for dinner. She looked pleased, but not honored, nor did she consider herself to be. What if she did not have all the modern airs and graces? She had a son; and, while she had him, and he was both airy, graceful, and talented, she was well aware that she would never be treated as a secondary personage, at least by marriageable young ladies.

Paul drove his mother out to Marlboro in fine state. They took tea on the lawn, and it was all "so lovely!" as Bella Prescott continually exclaimed. Afterwards Dick and Paul sauntered off to smoke their cigars, and the two ladies were left together. Then, as Tabitha Mallane looked across its green spaces and down its broad avenues, she

made her first real estimate of Marlboro Hill. It was one of the most beautiful and stately of those suburban homes which make the environs of Boston so charming. But it was not the red sunset through the green of immemorial elms, flushing the stone of the old ancestral house with the bloom of vivid rose, which attracted her attention. What she saw was the solidity, the age, the wealth, and vast respectability reflected in its walls. She saw also, as distinctly as Eirene beheld her mother's new gown and her father's new horse, Paul driving up this avenue of elms behind a pair of stately bays-her Paul coming home in the evening sunlight, the master of Marlboro Hill! She looked across the lawn, with its fountains and flowers, to the park, where some tame deer were grazing beside a mimic lake; and, as she looked, she wondered how, for so many years, she had thought Squire Blane's squatty house a fine mansion, his tucked-up garden "grounds," or his daughter Tilly, a match for Paul!

It was a long, long look which she had given to Marlboro with her exacting eyes. Meanwhile, Isabella Prescott had been taking in Mrs. Mallane with a much smaller but quite as keen a pair.

"I don't think that I made allowance enough for the boy," said Mrs. Tabitha to herself, "when he came home and felt so dissatisfied with all he saw there, compared with what he had seen here; but then, I couldn't have any idea of the contrast as I see it now."-"I am thinking what a happy girl you are, to be the free mistress of such a beautiful home," she said to Bella.

"Yes, Marlboro is beautiful, I suppose; every body says so. But it don't look to me as it does to other people, because I have always lived here, perhaps. Then, I get so tired looking after it, and so lonesome. Dear Mrs. Mallane, what is any home without a mother?" murmured the maiden, with two bright tears twinkling in her little eyes. "Dick is good to me-every body's kind; but oh! if you could know how I want a mother!"

"Oh, very sad! It would be very different if I had a sister; but I haven't even a sister."

"Well, my dear, you must come and visit Grace. She has no sister either, near her own age. I'm sure you'd take to each other directly. She knows nothing of the world of society, and you know all about it; so you'd be fresh to each other, and I could be mother to both. How I wish you could be persuaded to visit us!"

"Oh, I don't need any persuading ; it would delight me to come! I can't tell you, Mrs. Mallane, how I long to go to some quiet spot this summer! We've been to the White Hills, to Niagara, Saratoga, and everywhere, and I'm tired of all. I'd like to go and see something that I never saw before. I've been thinking of asking Dick to take board in some retired farm-house, where I shouldn't have to make four toilettes a-day in hot weather. You've no idea what a bore it is, Mrs. Mallane."

Mrs. Tabitha was sure she did not, as the outline of her old summer sacque and down-at-the-heel slippers ran before her mental eyes. Then she gave a little sigh, for she thought that, if this guest came, she must relinquish them.

"Our village is a bustling little place," she said, "but a rural country lies all around it. In half an hour I can take you to a perfection of a farmhouse-the one in which I was born. It has been in our family a hundred years."

"How I should delight to see it, and Grace! Do tell me about her, Mrs. Mallane! Does she look like you Oh, I'm sure we should be like sisters! How I want to see her! How sweet in you to invite me! and how lovely it

will be to go! It's so different being with one's friends, from being with people in whom one takes no interest."

“Yes, I think so,” said Mrs. Mallane, "even if your friends can give you less than strangers. Of course, you know, Miss Prescott, that we are quiet country people, and live in a very plain way-not at all in your style. You will find every thing simple and homely. You must come prepared for that. But you say you want something different from any thing you've had before. You will find it with us, and a daughter's welcome; but remember, we live in a very plain way." And, as she uttered these words, Mrs. Tabitha felt an inward satisfaction in the thought that, after so much depreciation, when she did come, Miss Prescott would be astonished to find every thing so much finer than she had expected.

Dick and Paul appearing at this juncture, Bella called out, "Dear Dick, Mrs. Mallane has invited me to visit her, and I'm going. I shall see Grace, and the farm-house that has been in the family a hundred years. Won't it be lovely?"

64 Altogether lovely—that is, it would be, if Mrs. Mallane had invited me too. I don't want to be left out."

"And we wouldn't leave you out for the world," said delighted Mrs. Tabitha, "if you think you could find any pleasure with us. I left Paul to decide that; he is so well acquainted with your tastes. If you like fishing, there are shoals in our river, and trout in the brooks, not six miles away."

"I doat on fishing, and so does Dick. How sweet, how kind you are, Mrs. Mallane!" exclaimed Bella, in her most guileless and gushing tone, leaning toward Mrs. Tabitha as if she were going to embrace her on the spot. Paul, looking on, said to himself, "This is the best-played game that I ever saw, if it is a game. What's the deceit of the devil to that of an artful woman? A little of this kindness of mother's had better have been bestowed somewhere else, in my opinion." And he felt bitter, as he saw, in the distance,

a drooping head and a fair, sad face. Yet, an instant after, a sensation of pleasure and triumph rose in him, as he looked and saw Isabella Prescott nestled close to his mother's side. She made quite a pretty picture, sitting there under the sunset trees. Then, there was satisfaction as well as wonder in seeing his mother looking quite the lady of Marlboro, with her stately head and lustrous silk. If she had always looked like this, Paul felt certain that he never could have rebelled against her as he had done in the past.

Half an hour later, while Paul and his mother were riding toward the city, each silent with their own thoughts, Isabella Prescott still sat under the trees entertaining her brother.

"If you could only have seen it, Dick-the old lady's look! She took an inventory of the entire place, before she spoke a word. Then, she said I must be a happy girl to have such a home. I made just the reply she wanted me to: I said, I would be happy if I only had a mother! Then, of course, she offered to be my mother, with the society of her daughter Grace. It grew very affecting. Don't you see, Dick, it was just like a story-book. Yes, of one thing I may say I am certain: that the lady from the country has set her heart and mind on becoming my mother—— in-law !"

แ "Well, if her son hadn't piqued your vanity so awfully, she would have made it out."

"That's your opinion, is it, Dick?"

"It is. But, as matters are, what under heaven is going to take you up to that furnace in the country for a visit? I saw you had some game on hand, and thought I wouldn't spoil it; but now, I'd like to know what it's all about. Mallane has gone and made an ass of himself-engaged himself to that girl. He as good as owned it to me. So you had better let him alone. I have other designs for you."

"You have? Well, I'll inquire what they are, when I've carried out my own. As for leaving Paul Mallane alone. that's just what I don't intend to do."