quet-Extracts from Letters-Visitors-The Loss of

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quirrels in a new and spacious cage. These little creatures were presents to me this spring, and are very

r's clever opera) was captured after some little difficulty, but not the Dutchman. Being a flying squirrel, he was so very tiny that he could easily conceal himself in a dark corner, and although I descended upon my knees to peer under my sofa, bureau, writing-table, and chiffonnière, my search was fruitless-the Flying Dutchman had evidently vanished to join the Phantom Ship. I felt very uneasy, fearing he might fall a prey to my two cats, who would n

them. After the song (Gounod's "Na?ade," a lovely salon piece), we were spea

ster while Miss Cleveland was singing, but he

ther; "pray sing something more, Miss Cle

or through the flue (fortunately there was no fire), a

l sing the ballad of the Flying Dutchman from Wagner

oll?nder's tiny head peered out, followed, after a furtive glance about, by his little body. Two gentlemen started to capture him, and then a chase ensued. Holl?nder tried to scamper up a picture, but tripped upon

hey fancied they were entirely free. Then I removed the hot cotton from their little nest, and filled it with fresh clover-leaves, which I am sure they much prefer. They run no risk of being devoured here, for Aunt Mary always

ne

ne of my Paris friends

njoying yourself, and are well. But you do not say a wor

ducements are held out: a croquet-lawn of velvet softness, long drives, and charming rides in which to display my stylish new beaver and habit, moonlight excursions upon

ming. Three years of married life have changed the beautiful Carrie somewhat, if this picture is a truthful one. The perfect outline of her face is unaltered, but

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croquet, a game in which I am very unproficient and therefore find decidedly wearisome; but Gabrielle, who is the be

f time, but we have had a guest from New York to-day, and therefore bo

-day, was not an exception. This gentleman is, I fancy, quite young in his profession, for his figure is of almost boyish slenderness; his face, too,

oduction from a friend of mamma's in Florence; but owing to mamma's long illness

iend, Mrs. Knox, the charming contralto of Christ Church. We had expected her to visit us th

your literary labors. My sudden departure compels me to forego the pleasure I had anticipated in seeing you at Chappaqua-at least until the fall. I am appreciative of the courtes

to be sprightly and amusing before I open it, for my friend Lela has been for two or three years one of my most entertaining correspondents. We were intimate friends in Paris three or four years ago, when Lela was a sch

re yet in the honeymoon, which will last, I fancy, forever-certainly th

arming place. We have been to Saratoga. It was

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as study is concerned, for nearly ever

s information, for they had already dismissed their carriage, in which they had driven from Pleasantville, and knew probably that there was no down train till 4.45, so quite helplessly they inquired if no members of the family were at home. Learning that Mrs. Cleveland and her daughters were here, one of the yo

he music room. Miss Hempstead

do not know me. My brother was a friend of Mrs.

of the Missouri made scarce any impression upon me at the time, surrounded as I was last fall by such heavy family afflictions; an

public. It was useless to try to convince any one that no engagement had ever existed between Mr. Hempstead and Ida: no one would credit my most solemn protestations. Many people not personally acquainted with us, but who knew the facts "upon the best authority," as outsiders usually do, said that the marriage was to

r, lover, and father," formed the subject of many a pathetic editorial and sermon. A London journal styled Ida the "maiden widow," spoke of uncle's

comfortable one, and Mr. Hempstead, then purser of the Eagle, gave up for her use a large deck state-room with three windows-a great comfort to Aunt Mary, who was always so partial to an airy bedroom. The voy

hing Nassau, Ida mentioned

ble and gentlemanly offic

tion his name, and I neve

state-room, and subsequently executed some little commissions for her, between New York and Nassau. He came out here, and made a visit of a week. In July of the same year. Aunt Mary

er's name. My astonishment can be imagined; and to this day it remains an enigma who invented that little society item. If a fertile-minded reporter had desired to head his column of Engagements in High Life with Ida's name, and had announced that she would shortly be led to the hymeneal altar (I b

r an American pur sang. She was born, she told me, in Belize, Central America, where her father was United States Consul. A tropical sun had given her a complexion of

he could not imagine what he found to like in the place, for between earthquakes and yellow fever, one was in a continual state of terror; there was no society, the population

dged society queens who graduate from our Murray Hill pensionnats at sixteen or so. A little English reserve to tone down somewhat their sparkling natures