may think this a fanciful and exaggerated dress for the wife of a drover; but these costumes are heir-looms, and though they are often seen faded, torn, travel-stained, and grim, the materials are always as I have described them, differing in freshness, but never in character.--_Sharpe._ From the Dublin University Magazine. THE MYSTIC VIAL: OR, THE LAST DEMOISELLE DE CHARREBOURG _Concluded from page 264._ XI.--JONQUIL. Blassemare, meanwhile, made his toilet elaborately, and by ten o'clock was in Paris. He stopped at the Hotel Secqville. "Is the marquis yet risen?" he asked. "No;" he was in his bed; he had not retired until very late, and must not be disturbed. "But I _must_ see him, my good friend; his happiness, indeed his safety, depends upon my seeing him immediately." Blassemare was so very urgent, that at length the servant consented to deliver a note to his master. Rubbing his eyes, and more asleep than awake, the marquis took the billet, and read-- "The Sieur de Blassemare, who had the honor of meeting the Marquis de Secqville last night at the Chateau des Anges, implores a few minutes conversation without one moment's delay; by granting which the marquis may possibly avert consequences the most deplorable." Certain shocks are strong enough to restore a drunken man to sobriety in an instant, and, _a fortiori_, to dispel in a moment the fumes of sleep. In a few seconds the marquis, in slippers, and morning-gown, received Blassemare, with many apologies, in his dressing-room. "A very slight acquaintance will justify a _friendly_ interposition," said Blassemare, after a few little speeches of ceremony at each side; "and my visit is inspired by a friendly and charitable motive. The fact is--the fact is--my dear friend, that--your coat is torn." "My coat torn!" repeated the marquis in surprise, visibly disconcerted, while he affected surprise. "Yes, the coat you wore last night. Ah! there it is--this blue velvet, with diamond button. La! Yes, there is the place. It was caught--ha, ha, ha!--in that cursed door; and, egad, as one of Le Prun's confidential advisers has got the piece in his possession----" "Psha! you are jesting. Why, there are more blue coats than one in the world." "I know; but there is only _one_ Marquis de Secqville. And as I happened, purely accidentally, upon my honor, to witness with my own eyes no inconsiderable part of his last night's adventure, it may be as well if he reverses his clever points of evidence for Monsieur Le Prun, should his suspicions chance to take an unfortunate direction." "What adventure pray, sir, do you speak of?"