dared. Moreover, his honor as a gentleman forbids. Clarendon has sometimes spoken of his queer meeting with him and Flossie Gower; people wonder idly, when they grow scandalous, what has been between them; but no one really cares. Mr. Wemyss himself, as Flossie thought, did the best thing possible under the circumstances; he went to Europe on the Parthia, and has stayed there ever since. Let us dismiss him from our thoughts; he is surely not a hero of romance, nor yet even a man in a French play, as he fondly fancied; nor yet even a real man at all. Perhaps there will even be no Décadence. Of his life he made a poor play; yet could not even play it to the end.

CHAPTER XXXIX.

THE FLOWERS IN THE HARVEST.

No sheriff's warrant was ever served on Mr. Townley. Lionel Derwent took care of that, and stayed with him (for he was childless) for some few weeks, until the old man died, of softening of the brain. Then Derwent went away again; to Asia, I believe, or to Africa, or Australia. Before he left, Gracie had a very curious call from him. He said a word or two to her of Mamie, and then a word or two of Arthur, and then a word or two of John Haviland; and then he took his leave, shaking hands with her in his awkward English way, and she never saw him more. For he never met another woman whom he loved.

He did not ask to take farewell of Mamie, and she was very glad when she heard that he was gone. She had no love for him; and she had had none even for Charlie Townley. But for this young man she did now feel a vast pity; he was a fugitive from justice, and yet all the world admitted he had been innocent of purposed wrong. Mamie herself could, perhaps, have brought the heaviest indictment against him; but it had never occurred to her that so great a personage as he could have sought her out for any worldly reasons. Now, perhaps, she measures excellence with different eyes; but she was very sorry

for him, and I know not what might have happened had Charlie, in his poorest days, asked her to be his wife. But he never did, and the suits against him were soon withdrawn, and now he is again in business in a small way.

And soon the glass roof, and the tempered light, and the parent trees about which Mamie's pretty flower had thrived so pleasantly, were gone, and her poor vanities were rudely stripped away; for Mr. Livingstone did not survive his loss of fortune and his oldest friend's disgrace, and his wife soon followed him; and Mamie was left-no, not alone; with Gracie. It is only Gracie who was lonely then. Gracie had little money, and Mamie was left almost poor; but she grew up to be a very lovely woman, and I know two or three good fellows who are now in love with her.

And Arthur, our hero-did I say he was our hero? All the world will still tell you, Arthur Holyoke is a successful young man. His practicable ambitions. have all been realized. And, after all, which one of us has realized our youthful dreams? Arthur has written no poem, to be sure, but he is making money; enough to pay all his club bills, and his salmon fishing, and his trip to Europe once a year. And nobody blames him for not having written any poem; on the contrary, they praise him for his clever head, and his handsome face, young looking for his age, and admire his faultless style. He is a butterfly, but a butterfly with a bee's brains; he has a head for business; of such is the republic of America, not of wan, unpractical poets. Will he ever marry? Oh, yes, perhaps he will, at forty; perhaps he will not. But what does it matter to the reader?

On that snowless winter's day, Gracie sitting alone in her one own room had bidden him in her heart farewell. She was glad to hear that he was doing well, and she will be the kinder to his sons and daughters, when he has them; they will not know why, but they will be fond of her. His friendship with Mrs. Gower continued; but he saw Gracie less and less.

When the old people died, Gracie and Mamie lived together, as I have said; and I wish that I could tell how our

friend Haviland went on, and worked, and watched for her, and dreamed of her, and won her at the last. But that would be writing another novel, would it not?

It is now three years since the great fire. James Starbuck has not been heard of since; not yet, at least. John Haviland and Gracie have been married, and Mamie still lives with them. They live in a smaller house than Mrs. Gower's, to be sure, but they manage to be

happy; and their sons will be strongsouled, large-hearted, to meet the Jem Starbucks that are to come; and Gracie's daughters will be like to her, and bear from her the vestal fire, each one to her own household, not advertised, perhaps, to thousands, but yet a kindly warmth to the few that stand within its circle of light.

For on gentle people such as these shall the future of our land depend.

THE

D

JE

HE reasons which induce travel in winter are quite apart from the causes that stimulate human migrations in the summer time. The Northern forest, the Western lakes, and the Eastern sea-coast furnish forth abundant amusement and pleasures to summer saunterers, who quit these resorts and byways just as the fall equinox brings cool, delightful nights and mellow days, while the gorgeous autumnal colorings of the forest foliage and the neutral russet browns along the sea-strand harmonize delightfully with the grays of rock and beach.

Beauties of mountain and seaside, and the tonic of ocean breezes avail not longer. The touch of the first frosts and the wine of autumn air have given tone and vigor to body and mind, so that the tasks and delights of home and the serious affairs of life, after summer outings, are entered on with a new zeal. But the frail folk note too soon that the late autumn rains have washed from the skies the purple haze of Indian summer, and when there follow shortening days and sharpening frosts, the invalid is brought to realize that strength and sun are in the south. The bright sunny

days come less frequently, and in passing only serve to make more keen the contrasts of winter's biting blasts.

The selection of a temporary home for the many thousands who cannot withstand the rigors and changes of their local winter weather is a hardship which is too often aggravated by climatic unsuitability, discovered too late, after often ill-afforded trouble and expense.

The proper adviser in such matters is the physician, and the writer seeks to aid the doctor and patient by simply illustrating that this country can furnish for Americans climatic conditions as genial, delightful, and favorable as any in the world.

The elements which constitute a perfect winter climate are not all meteorological. While ideal weather is the predominating part of a perfect climate, yet the physical characteristics of certain localities often neutralize the effect of blue sky, balmy breezes, and equable temperature. A friable ash-like soil, which easily lends itself to fill the air with fine dust, the presence of low-lying swamp and morass to send forth noisome exhalations and poison the otherwise pure air with germs of malaria or fever, are important elements in winter

climate, but their description and limitations belong rather to the domain of the chemist and physical geographer than to that of the meteorologist. It is the meteorological phases with which this article must particularly deal.

This line of research excludes, then, two important climatic essentials: the purity of the air and the relative dryness of the soil-essentials which for any health-resort must be chronicled by the local scientific and medical authorities.

Other very important qualities are moderate warmth, small variability of temperature, with less than the average daily range, freedom from excessive phases of either absolute or relative humidity, genial, gentle winds, frequent but not heavy showers of rain, and a large proportion of possible sunshine. In short, a moderately temperate, fairly dry and sunny climate is the desideratum, the difficulty of finding which in perfection has well been termed an idyllic quest.

Among the winter health-resorts, there is probably none more famous than that of Nice, where the climate is represented to be all that is desired in the way of softness. A critical examination of the climatic conditions of Nice obliges one to believe that the flavor of a foreign name and the fashionable repute of the place itself have contributed largely to its reputation. It is true that at Nice nearly every other winter day is sunny, but at irregular intervals cold, dry, and piercing winds sweep over the place, bringing sudden and violent changes in the temperature, twenty degrees or more in a day. At times, also, the air is so dry that in calm weather the sun acts strongly and induces perspiration at the slightest exertion, a dangerous condition in such a cold, dry atmosphere. The mean winter temperature is barely forty-eight degrees, while that of January is but forty-seven. The temperature occasionally sinks four degrees below the freezing point, and the midday temperature is at times as low as forty to forty-two degrees. In January snow falls occasionally on the surrounding hills, and hoar-frost is not infrequent. The winds in the last half of February and in March are high and exceedingly trying, owing to the dryness

and dust, and such strong winds blow on an average of once in every four days.

Of these winds the great Scotch meteorologist, Buchan, has written: "In the south of Europe during the winter and early spring, peculiarly dry, cold, and violent northerly winds are of occasional occurrence. Of these winds the 'mistral' is one of the most notorious, which is a steady, violent, and cold northwest wind blowing from central and eastern France down to the Gulf of Lyons. It is particularly trying while it lasts to invalids who are spending the winter at the various popular sanatoria which are scattered along this part of the Mediterranean coast. The great cold that took place in the north of Italy and south of France in the beginning of 1868 was a good example of the mistral."

In order to set forth more clearly climatic characteristics, Charts I. to VI. have been prepared, so that the reader may see at a glance the relative merits of widely separated sanatoria during the three winter months. The probability that freezing temperature or rain would occur on any day is best shown by percentages, since February is a short month, and any other treatment would weigh unduly for or against it. For instance, if rain falls on an average fourteen days in each of the winter months, the probability of rain falling on any day in February is fifty per centum, but in December and January only forty-five.

Chart I., giving the probability of freezing temperature, illustrates also, in a general way, the march of temperature, the greatest cold falling in January.

In the annual march of temperature the coldest days, along and to the southward of the 30th parallel (northern Florida and southern Texas) occur about the beginning of the year. To the northward the coldest period falls later

about one day and a half to each degree of latitude-so that in New England and New York the coldest days are in the last decade of January. It is significant and worthy of attention that St. Paul, Minn., has nearly as many freezing days in February as during

December to ninety-one February. It follows that February is a month to be avoided in New England and other extreme northern portions of the country by those unable to endure freezing temperatures.

The question of moderate temperature is easily determined, since there is but a very small part of the United States which is not subject every winter to freezing temperatures the southern half of Florida, and, for a hundred miles inland, the California coast region from San Diego northward to San Francisco and Sacramento. Along the northern limits of the districts named, light frosts occur occasionally, and freezing temperatures under rare and unusual conditions, but in the more southerly localities frosts are unknown.

In Chart I. is shown the probability of freezing temperatures occurring on any day during the winter season. The

States, to which, for comparative purposes, these data for Nice, France, are also added. The selected stations are so distributed that from this chart can be closely approximated the chances of freezing temperatures at any point in the United States. Nice is at a great disadvantage compared with a considerable part of the United States in this respect, being surpassed by all central and southern California (except mountain stations of considerable elevation), and the southern half of Florida.

It should be added that the small percentage of freezing days at Nice may be looked on with suspicion, since the Nice Medical Journal, from which the data are drawn, says there was no freezing weather in December, 1887, and that the minimum temperature, on December 15th and 16th, was 3.6° Centigrade, or 38.5° Fahrenheit. "On that night, however," continues the Journal, "it froze in the country and in the river bed of the Paillon; there was also seen a little ice in the city on the morning of the 16th around the edge of the basin of the Place Garibaldi and in other exposed localities."

Next in importance to the temperature is the humidity of the air, a subject to which the public generally does not pay due attention, partly through inadvertence and partly through lack of accessible data.

The condition of the atmosphere as to moisture is expressed in two ways, the first of which, often called the absolute humidity, gives the grains of water present in each cubic foot of air. The second method shows the percentage, or ratio of the vapor present to the total amount the air can hold at the actual temperature, and is termed the relative humidity. While at all times sensations of dryness or moisture (and in summer