George Macdonald's stories are all too well known and too universally beloved to need recommendation.

And that poor man of Mr. Ramsay Macdonald's imagination, instead of cadging about a constituency in order to start politician, will have to make good in some more useful wayas a leader of the workers in their practical affairs, for examplebefore people will hear of him and begin to believe in him.

He and his lady, (formerly Miss Bosville of Yorkshire,) were then in a house built by a tenant at this place, which is in the district of Slate, the family mansion here having been burned in Sir Donald Macdonald's time.

The present Rasay has the late Sir James Macdonald's sword.

Called by appointment on Lady Macdonald, who came here to speak to me about Sir J. Macdonald's salary and position at Tabriz.

Backhouse brought the account of Sir J. Macdonald's expected death; the date, May 12.

He crushed MacDonald's hand in a grip that meant more than words when they parted.

Was MacDonald's finger already reaching out to that little white button which would send him into eternity?

Already MacDonald's men were at work clearing the mouth of the coyote.

"That you will remain here, disregard the gossip that you may have heard, and continue to assist me in my helplessness in making full and searching inquiry into Macdonald's alleged defalcations.

We were mentioning this view of the highlander's life at Macdonald's, and mentioning the Macraes, with some degree of pity, when a highland lady informed us, that we might spare our tenderness, for she doubted not but the woman, who supplied us with milk, was mistress of thirteen or fourteen milch cows.

He believed that he had guessed the meaning of MacDonald's warning.

" Aldous reached over and gripped MacDonald's hand.

Oh, Johnny!" He dashed in MacDonald's direction, and a few moments later heard the crashing of bodies in the undergrowth.

Mortimer FitzHugh was in this camp to-night!" CHAPTER XXV Donald MacDonald's startling assertion that Mortimer FitzHugh had been in the camp, and that Joanne's dream was not a dream, but reality, brought a gasp of astonishment and disbelief from Aldous.

In MacDonald's face was a grim and sullen look.

Somewhere very near was the cavern with the soft white floor of sand, and for a moment Aldous fancied that he could hear the beating of MacDonald's heart, while from Joanne's tender bosom there rose a deep, sobbing breath of understanding.

The candleglow told her a great deal, for in it Donald MacDonald's face was very calm, and filled with a great peace, despite the trembling she had felt.

Aldous wanted to run, but he held himself down to MacDonald's stride.

" Aldous laid his hand on MacDonald's.

Ever since KING EDWARD laid the foundation of that understanding between England and France, it was Mr. MACDONALD'S delight as well as his livelihood to study every facet of it, both in Paris and in London, and with unfailing humour and spirit, fortified by swift insight, to present each in turn to his readers.

Not Mr. MACDONALD'S fault, of course.

Will not this hypothesis fit into the facts just as well as Mrs. Macdonald's?

He came to Paris at the risk of his life in 1791, and stayed there for four months, with the object, according to his own account, of collecting papers belonging to the Empress Catherine, or, according to Mrs. Macdonald's account, of having the rough draft of the Mémoires copied out by his secretary.

Mrs. Macdonald's explanation of this difficulty is lamentably weak.