The Lady Muriel.

liiiu in Paris , at tbe table dilute at the Hotel de Lille et d'Albion , in the autumn of 1 S 67 , we little thought how interested ive should become in our queer bachelor friend , as we used to call him . He used always to sit in the same place in the salle

a manger , always wore the same dark gray shooting eoat and black scarf negligently folded and pinned , the same indifferently fitting grey trousers . He didn ' t seem to talk much to the people about him , as we did but paid sufficient attention to his

, knife and fork to give one the idea that he was something of a gourmet , which was rather strengthened by observing how admirably ho got served off the best dishes , and how assiduously the waiters attended to his wantsas if feeling that they at last

, had hit upon an Englishman who knew now to dine . My wife pitied him , because he seemed so thoroughly alone , and I determined to cultivate him , because there was an inexplicable something about the man which interested me .

When ive came down on Sunday morning to go to church , our friend was iu the public drawing room , reading the Times I had broken the ice tbe night before , by enlarging upon the weather , which , as it happened , was decidedly English and uncertain at the time , so we soon got into conversation .

' Going to church , are you 1 said he . ,: 1 never go to church here , don ' t see the use of it . You young people do too much , see too much . St . Roch is all very well , music good , and all that ; and , of course , if you haven ' t been there , it ' s as -well to go , once . You should go to St . Cloud this

afternoon . The fair is going on now—worth seeing for people new to Parisian life . I come to Paris for quiet , subscribe to Galiguani ' s , spend my Sundays mostly there , take a drive in the Bois , and , perhaps , now and then pay a visit to Mabille , " he added sotto

voce to me . " Do you know anyone here 1 " f asked , " In the hotel 1 No ; haven ' t spoken to a soul since I came , except yourself and Jlrs . , " and here he paused , remember'ng that he did not yet know our names , though we had found out his from the visitors' book .

' Mildred , dear—Mr . Falconbridge , " I said , smiling , as 1 introduced him to my wde , at his surprise at my knowing his name , ilr . Falconbridge- Mrs . Beverley . "

We soon became great friends , and Mr . Falconbridge used to say , in his dry , quaint sad way , " I like people to come and talk to me , and I like your wife . Come and sit near me at the table d'hdte , and mind I sit next your ivife . " Mildred got interested in himand once said

, to me , "I am sure Mr . Falconbridge must have had some great grief , some dreadful trouble to bear . He speaks to me so gravely and sadly sometimes , and then turns it off with some sharp satirical phrase which makes me wonder whether he has a broken heart or

no heart at all . " Zou may be sure it ' s not a broken heart , " I told her , " whatever women do , men don ' t suffer from such weaknesses . " We succeeded in getting him to go with us one day to take a drive in the Bois de Boulogne—the last day of our sojourn in the gay city . We returned just in time for table d'hMe at five o ' clock and rose at seven

to catch the mad tram at the Great Northern Line for Boulogne . AVe had been laughing at some of his cynical old bachelor sayings—my wife aud I —and she was wondering why , in the midst of our pleasantries , he would suddenly

grow so grave . " What was it you were telling him , Milcb . 'ed , that made him laugh so much 1 " " Oh , it was about my cousin Muriel ' s skating feat on the mere last winter , when she pi evented Captain Bosca wen proposing until at last he got so tired with rushing

after her on the ice that he had to give in at length and own himself vanquished . Mr . Falconbridge asked what her name was , and when I said Muriel he grew pale , and seemed as if there was something painful in the name to him . Of course I changed the subject at once . And , then , you , having sufficiently aired your French with the driver , came to the rescue . "

" Ah ! I fancy his is a queer history . AVe were all standing in the vestibule , Hatching the arrivals , and waiting for a voiture to take us to the station , when an elderly widow lady and her daughter apparently—a lovely girl of about seventeenarrived .

Mr . Falconbridge was scanning them in his careless manner ; but as they passed us to ascend to the suite of apartments prepared for them , a troubled look came over his face , and my wife fancied she heard him 2 i