Mrs. Farquhar dreamily. Then she | Talbot, but on the whole he divided his checked herself. "I don't know what attentions pretty equally between her their mothers can have been about," she went on in a different tone. "Oh," cried John, "ladies of that pattern will meet protectors everywhere. Only English-speaking girls could do it, of course, but it is splendid." Mrs. Farquhar had never seen him so enthusiastic before. It was very unsafe under his circumstances. For Jessica Nevill's sake, she hoped these two formidable young ladies would take themselves off. V. TANGIER EPISODES. and her friend. The younger girl often tormented herself wondering which of the two he liked best; but Flora had no doubts, for his talk to her was all of Jessica. "He is not behaving properly for an engaged man," thought Williams; but what fun when he learns the truth!" As for Jessica, the little humbug continued to abuse her betrothed behind his back, but was gay in his society; and now, to Flora's amusement, displayed the greatest ingenuity in inventing reasons for submission to the detested marriage. "Of course," she said, "I shall never have one moment's happiness as his wife, but it is something to gain the crown of martyrdom; and you know, Williams, if I didn't marry him, papa would certainly think he must marry Mrs. Farquhar, and that would make BUT a week went by and the girls were still at the Villa de France Hotel, and Jessica was still Talbot, and had kept up the reputation of a Girton girl. She and Flora were intimate with Mrs. Farquhar; but the invalid, much in her own room, had no idea how con-us all ridiculous; and besides, stantly John was in their society. He rode with them daily, for every one rides at Tangier. He escorted them to the bazaars, and bargained for them in Arabic. He got a boat, and took them for a sail. He pointed out the hoopoes fluttering like big butterflies, and the golden bee-eaters flashing overhead in the sunshine. Jessica admired the latter so much that he shot one for her, and had it made into a hat ornament at the bird-stuffing establishment on the Marshân. "Oh, you are cruel!" cried the girl. "The dear, little, lovely, swift thing! Why do men always kill anything pretty?" I couldn't spend any of John's money, of course; and papa says John wouldn't take it back; and to keep it all lying in a bank is just what we are told never to do in the parable about the man and the napkin. I wish always to do my duty, Williams." "You are a hypocrite, my dear," said Flora; "but tell me, as a dead secret, you know, Talbot, aren't you beginning to like him a little?" Certainly not! certainly not!" cried Jessica, her eyes dancing as she clapped her hands and bounced about the bedroom in her nightgown. Things looked promising, Flora thought; and she gave her opinion that the joke had now been carried far enough, and that they had better embark again in the Hercules, and let Jessica upon Spanish soil resolve once more into Miss Nevill, the heiress. John took it back quite meekly, with apologies for his manly murdering way, and next morning brought her two living bee-eaters, their legs tied so that they were like greyhounds in a leash, and could fly together about the room. Soon after this Captain Farquhar, Jessica kept these while she was at who had been at Gibraltar for two Tangier, and tamed them completely. | days, and feeling a good deal disturbed John Farquhar did not tell how early in his mind, returned to Tangier. And he had risen, nor how many hours he he returned armed with all manner of had spent on the mountain with a little good resolutions: a certain young lady Moorish bird-catcher, to get the pretty he would studiously avoid; and all his creatures. These trifles he gave to attentions henceforth should be con fined to her companion, who, though shoulders. John shuddered, and pushed extremely pleasing, was perfectly harmless to the engaged man. John was stepping briskly from the town to the Villa de France, wondering how his mother was, when he heard a great beating of tom-toms on the Soko, and saw a dense crowd round a company of dervishes, who were performing antics before a green-turbaned saint on a white mule. John had seen this sort of business before, and hardly threw a glance at the half-naked fanatics, who were leaping in the air or rolling in the dust, preparatory, as he knew, to slashing at their heads after their manner. But his eye fell upon Mrs. Cobbe and the ladies of the Irish family, who were pressing forward to see what in the world was going on. "Don't get too close," advised John; "they are a disgusting sight, poor beggars, and now and then a specially holy enthusiast runs amuck through the crowd, and may have an antipathy to unveiled ladies. Have you no one with you?" "No, but we are all right now you have come. As Mrs. Farquhar has Hadji, she can spare you." 66 My mother!" exclaimed John. "Yes. She and Miss Talbot were all the morning on the terrace, and got quite excited listening to the drums and watching the crowd. My husband advised Mrs. Farquhar to try Hadji's white donkey just for these few steps, so as to be able to see. There she is, and the two girls and Hadji with her, don't you see? And pray, Captain Farquhar, tell us who these very laughable people are?" "Oh, a Mohammedan Salvation Army, no doubt. We had much better all come away. My mother, I am sure, had no idea what she was going to see. I must go to her." And resisting Mrs. Cobbe's entreaties for protection, he abandoned her to Mrs. Murphy. It was at this moment that three of the dervishes, after rolling on the sand and foaming like epileptics, suddenly sprang to their feet with a yell, and hacked at themselves with battle-axes till blood streamed over their naked his way through the throng to the corner where he had heard his mother scream, and from whence she and her companions were now trying to escape. (The strong-minded Mrs. Cobbe, on the contrary, pressed nearer to the scene, and whipping out a pencil, began a sketch for the Daily Graphic.) "This foolish adventure will make mother ill," thought John. But now up the reserved space in the middle of the crowd there rushed singly the three of the bleeding shoulders-brandishing their axes, yelling horribly, leaping and tearing themselves, while their long hair and their scanty garments, ragged and gory, streamed in the wind. One of them overturned a dignified merchant, the second upset a donkey, the third stumbled and fell heavily, then rolled to his feet and raged forwards again, shaking his fist at the infidels, the barbarian ladies in their shameless costume, who were fleeing from the ecstasies of the faithful. Mrs. Farquhar's donkey, startled by the hubbub, plunged and kicked, but John was not attending to his mother at the moment. For the madman had snatched at Jessica's white skirt, and the girl gave a cry of terror; then seeing John, she threw herself impulsively into his rescuing arms, outstretched no less impetuously for her protection. Of course there was no real danger; one blow sent the fanatic reeling back to his fellows. But in her fright Jessica still clung to her betrothed gladly, with a tight clasp. And he carried her to a hillock by the garden wall of the hotel. So close at Tangier are barbarism and the luxuries of French civilization! 66 Oh, thank you," murmured Jessica, recovering herself, and now rather, embarrassed. "I am sorry to have made a fuss. And oh, look at that donkey how he is kicking! It is not fit for Mrs. Farquhar! Please go to her. I am all right." But John lingered, his arm still round the shivering girl. "You are not hurt?" he questioned anxiously. "Not frightened? Are other of the two young faces. "Why you sure? Let me see you safely indoors. You are trembling, you poor little thing." Had he ever heard her Christian name he would have said it in that new-born tenderness of agitation. But knowing her only as "Talbot," a mere ridiculous nickname, his ignorance saved him from an indiscretion. Please go to Mrs. Farquhar," murmured Jessica, blushing with joy at his soft tones; and half yielding to, half withdrawing from, what had become all but an embrace. did she say 'Jessica'?" murmured the sick woman. "It is my name," answered the girl, too much agitated to keep up the deception. Several moments passed. "Jessica what?" questioned Mrs. Farquhar, rising on her arm. "Your Jessica. Jessica Nevill," said the girl tearfully. "Oh, do take care!" said Flora, frightened by her patient's wild air of joy, "you must not excite her." For Mrs. Farquhar had sunk back speechless, and her breath came in painful And then John glanced round; im- flutterings, so that Flora even feared patiently, though he loved his mother. she was dying. But feverishly she What he saw filled him with dismay, clutched Jessica's hand, drawing her and in her turn Jessica was forgotten. nearer, and the awestruck girl kissed For any exertion, any slight physical her pallid lips. After which succeeded shock, any alarm, was dangerous for another death-like swoon; and then, to Mrs. Farquhar's weak heart; and as Flora's intense relief, John returned Jessica had said, Hadji's big white with the doctor. donkey was the very last creature she ought to have mounted. John looked round in time to see his mother thrown "Oh, what have I done!" whispered Jessica. "She will tell John! and what-oh what will he think of me ? How can I meet him again, Flora? I'd give anything if we could escape away this very night.” But Flora had to stay to nurse Mrs. Farquhar, who lay in the extremity of suffering. Flora had once been for six months in a hospital, and her quickwitted experience immediately madeitself felt. John turned to her instinctively. Flora turned to John Farquhar. "Do you know that this may be a "What good angel brought you to question of minutes?" she said, look-us!" he exclaimed, grasping her hand. ing very grave; and bade him go at Jessica listened jealously. Why could once for the English doctor at the she do nothing, she who should at such Hotel Continental. "I have had some a moment have been everything to training as a nurse; you may trust her him? to me," she said quietly, as he reluctantly obeyed. Yet poor Mrs. Farquhar, recognizing in Flora the kind, authoritative nurse, had eyes only for Jessica. The child stole to her side and knelt, kissing her hand; and a wan smile illuminated the sufferer's drawn face, while she felt "Oh, Flora, how dreadful!" sobbed Jessica, who had never seen any one so ill before; "and we were all so happy half an hour ago!" "Hush," said Flora ; we must be for the warm young fingers, and clasped very quiet, Jessica." VI. THE WHITE DONKEY'S WORK. MRS. FARQUHAR opened her eyes painfully, and looked from one to the them appropriatingly. From the first Mrs. Farquhar had petted Jessica. John saw her delight in the young creature now, and his heart swelled within him tumultuously. But not once would the young man so much as look at the girl himself. | he did, without a word, hour after hour. Something had happened to John. He Jessica cried at first, and he saw her was afraid of Jessica ever since the shoulders rise to her sobs like a child's. little adventure on the hillside, when Then she grew very quiet, and tried to she had sprung to him involuntarily, be strong like Flora. Perhaps in afterwith that look of confidence, of of years, when he was trying to vanquish love! John Farquhar dared not say his dislike to her, it would help him to the word. He was betrothed to his remember that they had watched this cousin, to Miss Nevill the heiress, and strange, sad night together! the word love was not for him in connection with any other maiden. He was afraid of little Miss Talbot now most horribly afraid of himself. would not even look at her. He "Mrs. Farquhar has told him!" thought Jessica in alarm, noting his coldness, "and now he detests me!" And then clenching her hands, "Oh, it is Flora he loves! She is able to help him. He speaks to her. He watches her. He calls her his good angel. It is Flora he loves! Why, oh, why did we ever come here?" Flora took up her station for the night by the sick woman's bed. The rooni was semi-darkened, and everything was quiet; she was ready herself with her medicine-bottles, and her stimulants — alert, sensible, a tower of strength. Mrs. Farquhar was only half conscious, and she tossed about in the painful restlessness of great weakness, sad to see. The skilled nurse alone was able to quiet her. It was near the dawn when Flora stepped out and called him. "There is a change," she said quietly; "you had better come." But the nurse did not return to her post, for she knew that there was no more which she could do, and that it was the son's right to be alone with his mother now. She and Jessica stood outside, holding each other's hands; with pale faces and ears and eyes straining through the silent twilight. And John was with his mother, who slept, slept, till her sleep quietly deepened into the long, untroubled sleep of death. So trivial an accident had ended Mrs. Farquhar's harmless and troubled life; and now John had only himself to think about and provide for. VII. TRAGEDY. JESSICA was not the same after this. The sudden catastrophe had startled her into seriousness. Her smiles and her affectations had alike ended. With John she was now very shy and trem "She will be best alone with me," said Flora firmly, "and you may trust me as with my own mother." John pressed her hand in silent grat-ulous, watching him wistfully and colitude. Then he sat on the stair outside the sick-room, its door ajar so that he could hear even a whispered summons. Oh, that long, cold night of weary waiting! 66 But after about an hour Jessica, her eyes full of tears, joined him. Mightn't I stay here with you?" she pleaded timidly, her clasped hands trembling. John raised his eyes for a moment, and a flush slowly rose and faded on his face. "If you wish," he said coldly, turning away. And Jessica stayed, sitting on the floor with her back to him, but where he could watch her. Watch her oring all over if he spoke to her. But this hardly ever happened, and never did he let his eyes meet hers. "Aren't you going to tell Captain Farquhar, dear Jess?" asked Flora kindly; and Jessica, clenching her hand, replied sadly :· 66 "I am afraid he knows; but I am not going to say one word about it unless he does. Oh, Flora, let us come away." After a day or two they went; and John bade Flora good-bye, and thanked her for all she had done; but took no leave of Jessica. Only a little brown boy brought her "from shentleman " a bunch of the beautiful frail gum "No, we didn't," quibbled Jessica; “but if we had, papa ? " cistus which grows wild at Tangier, on | cerely hope, my dear, you did not see the hills where fly the hoopoe and the John there." golden bee-eater. The girls went away and visited Cordova, and Granada, and Seville; and the younger was always very quiet and subdued, and seemed anxious to get home to England. "My dear, you speak like a baby. What do you suppose John would have thought of you? Running about with another girl of sixteen, and I do declare running after him! Bless my soul! Don't talk to me of accident. He would never have believed it an At last one evening Williams and Talbot arrived at Victoria station in London, and hither came Mr. Nevill to meet them. "Papa," said Jessica, "don't you accident. You shall be introduced to remember Flora ? " "No," said Mr. Nevill gruffly, staring at the "maiden lady." "Upon my word, Miss Williams is not to be recognized." "A rough passage is unbecoming," said Flora, with composure. "And rejuvenating," returned Mr. Nevill grimly. your cousin, Jessica, nowhere but in your father's house. Such conduct as you suggest might have led to his even refusing your acquaintance !" Jessica couldn't, she really couldn't just then confess the Tangier escapade, which, having unexpectedly grown into tragedy, was now all the harder to describe as a mere foolish jest. But the Arrived at home, he soundly blew opportune moment for confession never his daughter up. fied." turned up afterwards, and Jessica became an impostor. She had to listen to a long account of poor Mrs. Farquhar's death, as if she knew nothing about it; and the girl having taken refuge in silence, Mr. Nevill said testily, "I do wish, Jessica, that I could get you to take a straw of interest in your future husband !" He continued displeased, which was very trying both to himself and to his daughter, and Jessica began to look worried and ill. All this was bad enough, but far worse followed. One fine day a letter came from John Farquhar, a courteous, a penitential, and then every one was satis- but a very decided letter,— begging release from his engagement to his cousin. Alas now for Jessica. "I never was so vexed in my life. And what possessed you, Jessica, to go to Spain? It is not a respectable country." "We were quite respectable, papa. | We went to no bull-fights." "Under your circumstances, Jessica, it was the worst taste. Did you forget that John Farquhar is at Gibraltar ? I hope, Jessica, you did not go near Gibraltar?" Mr. Nevill was even more put about than he had been by his daughter's legacy. He seemed quite unable to regard the matter either calmly or reasonably. One would have thought him a robber (now remorseful) who had enriched his offspring by a vast theft of somebody's diamonds. "Oh, papa," sobbed Jessica, “don't blame me ! I never even saw old Mr. "We slept at Gibraltar for a night, Farquhar. It isn't my fault. It isn't papa." any one's fault. It does seem to me it "Dear, dear me! I do most sin- would be so much better just to send |