and, seizing his hand, reproved him passionately for thus dying without one word of farewell. She took his head between her hands, and, pressing it wildly, looked at him with a fixed and halfdemented scrutiny. The eyelids of the deceased' were seen to quiver; the eyes half opened; he was saved! He had succeeded in putting his latent self in communication with the outer world; and what he himself had begun, the doctors completed. Here was a man who, but for his sister's delay, would have been buried alive! Bruhier's story is, in fact, the confession of Wenzel. It is the story of a patient describing his horror on finding himself a dead man ; and, without much confusion of terms, it might fairly be called the Confessions of a Corpse.' Dr. Gandolfi asserts that many such cases have been recorded in various parts of Europe, and that in most instances the cases have been 'proved and authenticated.' Gandolfi is an authority; and all persons of a quibbling or sceptical nature would do well to consider the matter thoroughly before condemning his evidence.

But it is needless to prolong the list of examples. Enough has been said to show the wickedness of hasty funerals—and the necessity of establishing a proper system of tests. But these tests, so long expected, are not forthcoming. Many physicians are, indeed, of opinion that no such system is obtainable in the present state of medical science. There are, they affirm, a great many ways. of proving death, if sufficient time be allowed for experiments; but during the experiments, or before the experiments have begun, the supposed corpse may, they declare, pass from apparent to real death, and thus, without sign or warning, frustrate all inquiry. Celebrated physicians cannot be at the deathbeds of all sick persons. The poor, and even the rich, must oftentimes content themselves with the services of doctors who are not famous either for learning or intuition; and the medicines and appliances by which distinguished physicians might succeed in testing the existence of life, in persons suffering from trance, would, in the case of poor people, cost too much; and no one is willing to guarantee their final success. For it is important to bear this point in mind:-it is one thing to certify that a 'corpse' is not really dead; it is another thing to revive that corpse after the inner life-latent and slow to assert itself-has been properly recognised. No; what is wanted is a simple test, and not a complicated test, or a complicated series of tests, which would be out of the reach of the poor, and beyond the power of inexperienced or badly-paid doctors. Let us have that test as soon as possible! No doctor deems it an impossibility. It is a matter of difficulty, and that is all. But difficulties as great as, or greater than, this have been mastered over and over again by modern science.

G. ERIC MACKAY.

104

By Proxy.

BY JAMES PAYN.

CHAPTER XLI.

A SECOND SUITOR.

Ir was not Nelly Conway's way to make much of any accident that befell her, but out of gratitude to Mr. Pearson she felt compelled to tell Mrs. Wardlaw how near she had been to Death, as well as to whom she owed her escape from it. That good lady was so horrified by the mere fact, that it was fortunate the narrator did not use any arts of embellishment. I should never, never have forgiven myself, dear Nelly, if anything had happened to you.'

Why not, dear Mrs. Wardlaw? It would not have been your fault.'

"Yes, it would; for ever letting you go out of my sight. Does not this show how totally unfit you are to take care of yourself? And yet you used to talk of going away from us, and living all alone in London.'

That used to talk' was quite a Machiavellian touch : it suggested that this wild resolution of Nelly's had been given up ever so long ago, instead of being a project that pressed itself upon her daily, as Mrs. Wardlaw was well aware, though her guest had ceased to talk of it of late, as is often the case when we are on the brink of action.

'I can't be caught by the tide in London,' urged Nelly, unless I choose my lodgings down at Bankside.' The periodical inundations of the Thames, according to the last aquatic information, having just taken place in that locality.

This bantering rejoinder drew no answering smile from Mrs. Wardlaw. There was nothing to laugh at,' thought that kind old soul, in anything which had reference to Nelly's threatened departure.

'Well, at all events, it was not Mr. Pearson's fault that I was nearly drowned, but quite the reverse; so I hope you will be very kind to him,' said Nelly softly. He is an artist, but not, I fancy, very prosperous."

'Not likely to be, my dear,' answered her hostess drily. 'Drawing and painting are all very well for those who can afford them, but as professions---'

'Hush!' The door opened. The servant announced 'A gentleman to see you, ma'am ;' and in walked the very person in question. Mr. Pearson was dressed in the same time-worn summer suit which he had had on an hour or so ago, when Nelly had parted from him on the jetty; but even the hotel waiter had not mistaken his social position. His hat was in his hand, and the intelligence and delicacy of his features were more clearly seen; there was a hesitation in his manner, but it did not appear to arise from mauvaise honte, but seemed rather a personal characteristic.

Mrs. Wardlaw held out her hand to him at once, which seemed to reassure him.

'You have placed me, Mr. Pearson, under a very great obligation by preserving to me this dear girl.'

'That you should have a high regard for the young lady does not astonish me,' said he; though as I understand, madam, she is no blood relation.'

'She is my adopted daughter,' said Mrs. Wardlaw, with quite a fierce look at Nelly, as much as to say, 'Contradict me if you dare.' If she could but be reduced to silence, the elder lady might not unreasonably assume some authority when the matter of the girl's departure should come to be seriously discussed.

'Mrs. Wardlaw is as kind to me as any mother could be,' said Nelly, whom experience had made alive to pitfalls of this kind, 'but I am not a party to the arrangement of adoption.'

'Why not?' inquired Mr. Pearson, not with conventional indifference, but as if he was really anxious to kuow.

'Well, I have the filial love, but not the sense of filial duty,' said Nelly naïvely. I don't mind her petting me, but then I want to have my own way.'

'Very natural,' said the visitor approvingly.

When a

'What!' interrupted Mrs. Wardlaw with indignation. But, as I was about to add, madam, very wrong. young girl is left without father or mother, and (as she has informed me) scanty means, why should she refuse the help of loving hands? Ah, dear young lady, Poverty, like Death, has its charms when at a distance, but when it comes near us▬▬ -look at

me.'

There was light enough yet to see his threadbare clothes, his parched and weary face, the hollow eyes that bespoke want as well as weakness; but light enough also (for those who could see them) to mark the pride and independence of his look and mien.

'You are an honest man,' said Mrs. Wardlaw warmly, and you know what you are talking about. May this dear girl have the wisdom to lay your words to heart!'

At the same time,' continued he, the bread of dependence can never be so sweet as that we earn. You tell me, Miss Conway, that you trust to your pencil to do something for you. I have some judgment in such matters-though, it is true, my own want of success may inspire little confidence. Might I see your drawings?'

Nelly ran upstairs at once to bring down her portfolio. Brief as was her absence, there was time enough for the visitor to say with hurried eagerness, 'She will leave you, Mrs. Wardlaw, and take her own way; she will fail in her object, but she will not confess it; she will suffer-and make no sign; you must never lose sight of her.'

'Bless the man! as if I should! Hush, here she is!'

'So these are your art-treasures, are they, young lady?' said he cheerfully, as Nelly placed the portfolio before him, and then sat down, in modest confusion, a little ashamed of her prompt acceptance of his criticism. But then she was anxious to improve' and be corrected in her faults. Well, there is plenty of promise; plenty—dear me, what's this in silver paper? a gem, no doubt?'

'Oh, please, I did not mean that for a specimen,' said Nelly with a sudden flush.

'Why not? it's very creditable; a quaint old garden, and a house of Queen Anne's time.'

'It is our old house at Richmond: I did it for my poor father as a present on his birthday-and-and-' here she burst into tears and ran out of the room.

The events of the afternoon had been a severer mental strain than at the time she had felt them to be. Her nerves were altogether unstrung.

'Her father met his death in China under the saddest circumstances,' explained Mrs. Wardlaw in low tones. It is too shocking to talk about. She is quite upset, you see; but I know she had rather be left alone, and presently she will come back again all right.'

'Poor girl, poor soul! and this was done for her father, was it, and he never lived to see it? It's a pretty picture, but the sentiment is above all art. She wouldn't part with it now, I dare say,

for anything.'

'I should think not.

Why, John-that's my husband-offered

her ever so much for it, but she wouldn't have sold it him for its weight in gold. She doesn't much like it even to be looked at, though she did show it the other day to Mr. Milburn.'

'Milburn?' inquired Mr. Pearson. 'What Milburn ?'

'Oh, a gentleman who is staying at the hotel. A very nice young fellow-Herbert is his christian name. Do you know

him?'

Mr. Pearson shook his head. I thought it might have been a man I knew in India, but on reflection it cannot be he. Is she fond of him?"

6

What, Nelly of Mr. Milburn? Well, really, one doesn't talk of such things.'

"Not to strangers," you would say: of course not. Only I feel such an interest in this young lady from having seen her in such a strait as I did this afternoon: within a few minutes of being drowned, and yet so calm and quiet.'

'Ah, because she's so "fit to go," that's it, Mr. Pearson. Well, since you saved her life, you have some right to hear about her. I am in hopes this Mr. Milburn may win her heart. It would be an excellent match for her; but there has been some hitch upon her side. Girls are so strange. I think, however, she seems to miss. him since he went away.'

'He is not here, then, at present?'

'No, he comes back to-morrow: you will then see them together, and be able to judge for yourself.'

I suppose such a pretty girl has been sought after, notwithstanding her want of fortune, by other suitors?'

'Well, between ourselves, by one person only. It's a sad business. His father has stepped in between the young people. He is a hard man-but still it is not to be wondered at. Nelly has not a shilling, and the young man will be very rich when his father dies. It is the Mr. Ralph Pennicuick who is standing for Slowcombe. He was a great friend of Captain Conway's, nevertheless-that was Nelly's father.'

"Then he has not been a friend of his child?'

'Well, no; I don't call him a friend. It is true he offered her an annuity after her mother's death, but she declined it.'

'Why so?' he inquired again with that air of genuine interest which seemed to excuse what would have otherwise appeared to be mere vulgar curiosity.

'Well, you see how independent she is: she would probably not have taken it in any case, but it was offered, I fancy, ungraciously. If I were to say to Nelly, "Here is a five-pound note, but understand at the same time that you have no claim upon me," that would be very brutal.'

'But it would be the truth,' said the other drily.

'Perhaps so: but I would rather never speak truth again than

say such a thing.'