Waverley Library (Quarto Edition) (no. 185) (1883 05 29)
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oo 7 ie | oe , , Lb My ties) .. Ae Ce bag sah 2 Voge aw i ss ie 5 ~ a 1 <r ‘ , Aue ar Pe | yh Toni. F 4 7 APR : SN ‘ Wig se t. “THIS I8 A PORTRAIT OF LATER DATE—MY GRANDFATHER’S GRANDMOTHER.”
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pe ? ps EOaEs aor te By ont ; bi ee ae . Put to a Test; : j ; at A Fortune Hunter’s Fate. BY GEORGIANA DICKENS, AUTHOR OF ‘' THE COST OF A FOLLY,” ‘ LORD ; ROTH'S SIN,” ETC., ETC, Ss = CHAPTER 1. : A PASSING STRANGER, ‘* DREADFULLY crowded—and what a med- ley!” cried Mrs. Olivia Sutherland, putting u her gold-rimmed eye-glasses as she threw herself ~ back on a seat in the great dining-hall of a cer- tain large New York hotel. “I can’t think how Captain Kingsborough could have allowed us to come here! Did you ever see such people as we find ourselves in the midst of, Celia?” Mrs. Sutherland looked appealiugly into the _ face of a tall, dark-eyed and very beautiful girl _ gtanding beside her. ‘Do you think they are different to the usual run of people we have met at all the various ho- tels we have stayed at abroad?” she replied, with a puzzled air. ‘‘There is a mixture cer- tainly ; but it seems to me that at Vienna and—” *& Ah. but that was abroad; so it didn’t mat- ‘ter. You don’t understand these things yet,” returned her companion, rather impatiently. ‘“¢ Captain Kingsborough does, and ought to, and Ishall just tell him what I think when he comes - down. How lateit is—eleven o’clock! Ah, here he is at last!” es Olivia Sutherland, a small, fragile, passe little woman, verging on forty, but still retaining the _, traces of former beauty, held out a tiny ring- - bedecked hand to Captain Kingsborough, who ! . slowly crossed the room to where she sat, and _ having duly taken and bowed over the extended x hand with rather exaggerated gallantry, seated bay Note beside her, bestowing a smile and bow ete. 4 n the young lady, who was stiil standing silent- , ly on the other side as he did so. sue She turned away angrily, i blushing as if -_half-pleased, and then Mrs, Sutherland broke forth: - What in Heaven’s name induced you to pring us here, Captain Kingsborough? We had . © much better have gone to—” ~ pet The captain, a tall, faultlessly-dressed, middle- aged man, with handsome features, and yet—to most people—scarcely a pleasant face, raised his -- eyebrows in affected surprise. ~ ““My dear Mrs. Sutherland, excuse me, but _ really it was you who brought me here.” | 72 What an accusation!” cried the other, | turning a large pair of gray eyes on him indig- ~*~. mantly. ‘ : “Yes, Don’t you remember at_Vienna—or -- Rome, was it?—your dear friend, Janet Hare- wood, telling you to try this hotel? She vowed it was the most convenient, most comfortable in New York,” he answered. ‘“‘I never heard of it before; but—” “Janet must be mad! She always was queer,” > yeplied Olivia. ‘I'll never take advice from her ai again!” 3 Mees aoe eNO, don’t,” he replied. . ‘‘ But have vou been aig chs uncomfortable? - Has Miss Saville been an- Pees noved?? ee “No, Why should she? But look round the \ room, Captain Kingsborough!” ek The captain slowly cast his eyes round the gg aaeee ure A fine room enough. What’s the matter swith it?” he replied, with a cunning twinkle in . ., his eye. : _.. * Pshaw! you know what I mean. Look at the people!” she replied, in a disdainful tone, fe j ne did not even try to lower in consider- - ation of her neighbors’ feelings. ---- * Nobodies, certainly; but there is no one in town. ‘You forget it’s only just the end of Ay These are a lot of foreiguers, of course, which ae Be ‘+ Jews and foreigners,” she retorted. ‘‘I never _ saw such a set!” And she threw herself back with a look of disgust. steadily: ‘206 quite make out; and he must have beard Byte: 3 Mrs, Batherland’s ill: bred remark. Se ROT TO ih) TERE, ‘Foreigners, and Jews and American no- bodies, I dare say,” replied the captain, witha poms ‘‘ but they won’t burt you, Mrs. Suther- and, and we leave this afternoon. Come; we will adjourn to a privateroom. They have a good chef here, at any rate. Miss Celia, allow me: and he offered an arm to each of the ladies. As she passed out of the room, Celia could not help casting a quick glance at the stranger whose eyes had met hers a few minutes before. He was talking fluently in Italian to a gentle- man beside him; yet Celia felt certain he was no Italian—hbis complexion was too fair, albeit his eyes were dark, almost as dark as her own, and the form of his features was more that of an Englishman or an American. ‘** Who can he be?” she thought, as she left the room, without observing that his eyes followed her retreating form curiously. All the morning she was silent and preoccu- pied, notwithstanding that Captain Kingsbor- ough did all in his power to enliven her, causing Mrs. Sutherland to make one or two bitter little speeches, intended to show the captain that she considered him her special property, and, that she resented his paying attention to any one but herself, ‘It’s just as well,” she thought, an hour or two later, ‘‘that we are at home again, and Celia is going back to her grandfather’s. Lord! how dull she will find that little village after the life we have been leading! It’s well, per- haps, that he didn’t know that Celia was her grandfather’s beiress. I took care to tell no one, and I doubt if the poor simple child knows it herself. Atany rate, she has never binted it tome. George can’t marry without money.” So saying, she gave the finishing touches to her traveling tostume, the last directions to her maid, and descended to the reception rooms, where she found George Kingsborough waiting, and the carriage ready to take them to the station. He looked a little amazed as she entered. ‘¢ Where is Miss Saville?” he inquired, ‘“‘Tate, as usual,” she replied dryly. ‘‘She will try Ler husband’s temper in that respect— that is to say, if she ever marries; but she’s no mopey, you know, and unless—” ‘“*No money at ali? That’s a pity!” replied the captain. ‘““Why a pity?” said Mrs. Sutherland, sharp- ly. Vie Oh, for the girl herself. With all her beauty—she is really lovely, you know—she may be left in single blessedness. A fellow can’t marry without money nowadays. Ah, here she is!” he replied, quietly. Mrs. Sutherland’s face had clouded during the first part of this speech, and even the second part failed to restore her to perfect equanimity. ‘¢ How late you are, Celia!” she said crossly. ‘¢ Where is Leontine?” ‘* Let me take your traveling-bag and shawl. I really am so sorry!” began Celia. ‘* No! no!l”—giving them to her, nevertheless. ‘Now, Captain Kingsborough, we are ready.” ‘And taking the captain’s arm, she left the room, Celia following. On the doorstep stood the stranger. He was just about to get into a hack on which were already placed two worn-looking portman- teaus. ‘‘ What a handsome young fellow!” said Mrs. Sutherland, with an expression of interest on eal face intended to inflict a wound on the cap- n. ‘* Quite so,” he replied. I believe, and one of the ning down just now. am much mistaken.” And the captain laughed maliciously as he noticed the way in which her face fell. Olivia Sutherland, he knew, loved admiration, albeit her morning of life was passed, and would not willingly have offended the pride of any man whose attention or homage it might have been possible for her to win, , 4 “‘ Well, we shall never come across him again, so it doesn’t matter,” she replied, in a comfort- able voice. “‘ What time does the train start? I hope we ar’n’t late.” ; ‘‘- Your friend will be before us,” he replied, as the hack containing the stranger passed them, ‘We shall not be early, but we shall have time enough. Here we are. I'll see to the tickets, Where do you go, Miss Saville?” “To Alderton; don’t forget,” she answered, eagerly. z “ All right,” he returned. And in another moment he was with the ladies again, and puttin g them onto the train. Just in time,” he said, as he jumped in after them. are ; fad i ** A common Italian, ople you were run- e heard you, too, or I - 3 . Shoes SS he Re a eS eS Se ee ae ag ea a a i ee S [el ‘4 ‘ ae aad Fee, Ore 68 a: a a ye * Olivia touched his arm as he seated himself be- side her. ‘* See!” she said, archly. ; “‘Oh, he is here, ishe? So you were wrong in what you said just now,” he answered, in a low voice. ‘‘Miss Celia, bere’s your ticket. You leave us, then, at the Oldford Junction?” The stranger slightly raised his head as the words fell on bis ear. : ‘*Yes,” replied Celia, ‘‘and I have a full hour’s traveling before I get to Alderton.” — ‘Tm so sorry! Wish I could go with you; but you ar’n’t afraid—” began the captain. ‘What? and leave me to go on all the wey to Ingelwood alone—I who dread traveling by my- self—who never set foot in a train alone? How cruel of you to think of it, Captain Kings- borough!” cried Olivia, looking realiy vexed and hurt this time. ‘‘ My poor husband would never and Ingelwood—” ‘‘But Captain Kingsborough is not thinking of going to Alderton with me, Mrs, Sutherland,” interrupted Celia. ‘**Oh, no, no; don’t be Bh Lil gy T'll see you safe to your own doors. Miss Saville, you see, is not afraid, and”—in a low voice—‘ doesn’t care for my were known. “Now, vou are unkind!” smiled Olivia, while Celia threw a half-reproachful, half-petulant glance at the captain. ‘‘ You'll be sorry to say good-by to me, and Captain Kingsborough too, won’t you, Celia?” ! ‘t ay you have been very kind to me, Mrs. Sutherland, and I have enjoyed myself so much. I shall miss you so dreadfully!” And the tears filled her eyes. ‘There, there, my dear child, don’t make a scene! I shall miss you, too; but we shall meet again, and then—” Celia shook her head. ‘*Grandpapa will never spare me again, I fear; he is growing so old and so very blind. Unless you come to Alderton, my chance of see- ing you will be small.” ** But you will let us come, won’t you?’ said the captain, quite earnestly this time.” ‘*Grandfather will be delighted to see you, I am sure,” she replied, demurely. ‘* And you?” he said, spite of Olivia’s darken- ing brow. eee She did not reply; but her smile was enough. The captain was content, and little more was said till they reacbed Oldford Junction. Olivia embraced her friend with effusion, while the stranger quietly quitted the car. “Your baggage will have to be rechecked, Miss Celia,” said the captain, ‘“TIl get out and look to it for you.” “No, no, George—Captain Kingsborough!” cried Mrs. Sutherland, clasping her hands thea- trieally. ‘‘Ican’tlet youleaveme. If you get out the train may go on, and you will be left behind. Call a baggageman for Celia, can’t you? There! I told you so—there is the whistle! We are off! Good-by, my dear! Write to me to-morrow! A pleasant journey to you!” And the train moved quickly out of the sta- tion, leaving Celia standing amid the crowd, feeling very forlorn, and wondering where her baggage might be. ‘*Can I be of any assistance to you?” said a voice close to her. And looking up, she saw the stranger beside er. : She blushed in spite of herself, and was about to answer in the negative; but he continued: ““We have just two minutes,” “And my baggage—” cried Celia. ‘Is all here—I will see to rechbecking it. Let me take you across to the train. We have no once ready.” ‘““A common Italian.” The captain’s words something foreign in bis accent, there was noth- ing of it either in his manner or appearance. “Here we are! Let me put your basket in the wrapped her snawl round her. ‘It gets chilly of an evening here, it seems to me,” ie added, as he did so. ‘‘Thank you. Yes, the spring has been a cold one,” she replied; ‘‘ at least, so I am told; but I have been six months absent from home.” “* And I but six days in America,” he replied, with a smile that lighted up his face charming- ly, as Celia thougbt. : She rather longed to ask + “aot ifn uae hear of my making the smallest journey alone; ’ society much, I fear, if the truth . time to lose. They don’t wait for any one when ~ / came back to Celia as she hurried after him to © the other platform. Yet, though there was — rack,” he said, as he seated Celia in the car and — him from what — country he came; but he soon gave her the de-~ sired information without her being obliged to. ¢ cs i . x4 ,
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They talked together at intervals till the train mepeed at Ryfield, the station before reaching Alderton. «., 1 must say good-by to you here,” he said. I am sorry not to be able fo see you to your ; journey’s end.” ‘ “Ab! I have five miles to drive after reach- ng _Alderton. Cedar Grove is six miles from Byfield, she replied. :. woe Eryret he said, wonderingly. “she said, Y grandfather’s place. _ By the powers!” he said, ina low voice, as he stood on the platform, looking after the re- seding train, “By your leave, sir!” shouted a porter _ Wheeling a huge truck of baggage by res ; j With my leave or without,” he muttered, ursting into a curious laugh. ‘But who is she, I wonder? ' ut | a Italy but six days before. CHAPTER II. , AN UNTOLD SECRET. UrreRiy unconscious of the iar I s peculiar: effect ; st fone had produced on the stranger, Celia aaa ne settled herself comfortably in her seat, Shi egan to thiak, the image of her former wa hg quickly passing out of her mind, other thoughts and remembrances taking Possession of it, mene felt sad and dull at leaving Mrs. Suther- ret » albeit, during the six months she had spent 4: er company, she had often declared to her- _ fe that her friend was the most selfish and ag- ‘Sravating person she had ever had to deal with; ao she eee quite sadly when she thought of aptain ingsborough, and wondered when she would ever see-him again, or if ever. He would have seen-me into the train if | there had been time, and Mrs. Sutherland would | have let him,” she thought; ‘‘and perhaps he | ~ might have said something. I know he was ' Sorry to say good-by. She would hardly let him shake hands with me. She’s been kind to fe in many ways, though not as far as Captain _ Kingsborough is concerned. I really ‘believe she imagines he is in love with her; yet he bas said in my hearing more than once that he would never marry a widow, however rich she Might be. I wonder if—it—” he laid back her head in the cushion with a Soft light in her eyes and a flush on her cheek, and hardly moved again until the train stopped eae ae saw one of her grand- f servants standin it- ing foe Ron g on the platform wait How is your master, James?” she asked, as pete as she alighted and had seen her trunk at deposited beside her. blind ell, miss,” replied the man, ‘‘but very te ‘“—worse and worse he do grow in that way, Pe a and he’s irritable and uneasy like. We abl glad you are back, miss. ter’s not ble to get out alone.” Celia’s face fell, took bans grandfather!” she murmured, as she alisustn re in the brougham, then she added, of it with ti or: What a time I shall have © five miles’ drive seemed as if it would trod, audaaeee roads were ankle-deep with (1 ’ ja thought that never did any pair of horses go bays in the aie, as the pair of fat old Th iage turn © carriage turned in at an open gate, and passing along an avenu . Up at last ab tiie apie hod rate ge trees, drew ae astrange old place, with its diamond- i aa windows and curious architecture—an ae pe one and curious building, built in the time lighted volution, The interior was brilliantly hail, the to. it as Miss Saville entered the come her he eae Were there assembled to wel- “My grandfather—your — hem she a he d looking round. where is ® stu ne . “He's very bad aay replied the butler. “0 a moment Celia crossed the hall, and entered the room at the opposite side. : f ‘ Grandfather!” ather, I "sinking on her knees beside the old white-haired man sitting in | kerchief he held over 4. Grandfather!” she repeated, in an alm er aDl ; 7 frightened tone, “Speak! Iam here!” +g (8 the question, and learned that he had landed Good-by!” | } you had lost! see her again!—never | pranaiomien was stir: eed te Ska hee rs ¥ i 3 ? tf io ae ’? . a Ae P~ad , ve ~ Bs s _s: 4 eS oe PUT 3G (6 TESTS © look on her pretty face more! I am blind, child —quite blind!” “* Blind!” she cried, in a voice of horror. * Yes, blind! I may—I shall never see again!” he answered. Celia burst into tears, and took one of the old man’s hands in hers, ‘* Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you write and I would have come back long ago?” she faltered. “ Ay,” be gps his face growing dark and sinister, ‘‘ you’d have come back and worried me to death with lamenting over the pleasures No, no, girl; 1 know better than lusis" on unwilling service.” ** My services to you have never been unwil- lingly rendered, sir, believe me,” said Celia, warily. ‘* Hem! I’m bound to believe you, I suppose. But go now; you must be tired, Go and get your dinner, child; Vil taik to you aS a at least, if you’re not too fatigued to listen to a blind old man’s babblings.” ‘¢T will be with you in half an hour, sir,” she replied, with a touch of sadness in her voice, as she left the room, two tears standing in her eyes.. ‘‘Why was I never told this, Mrs. Giles?” she asked almost sternly of the housekeeper. ‘‘The master would not hear of it, miss, ‘Why spoil ber pleasure? he said. But don’t be downhearted, miss; the great doctor who came from New York to see the master did not bid us give up all hope. The blindness may be cured; buf the master’s old, and there must be an operation. It’s cataract, I take it, miss.” ‘¢ Well, I wish I bad been sent for,” seid Celia. ‘But of course, if the master forbade it, you were powerless. Poor grandfather! what does he do with himself all day? Before, he used to be hard enough to amuse, but now—” ‘*He just paces up and down the room like a caged lion, miss, talking to himself; but as you are come, 1.iss—” “AsIlamcome! WhatcanI do, Giles? You know how often I used to anger and offend him, and—and—it will be worse now! Ob, what shall I do?” That night Celia’s pillow was bedewed with bitter tears. Blindness! What an ending toa life such as his had been! Active, vigorous, and masterful, quick to anger, vindictive and jealous in his temperament, he bad known little of rest or in- activity during the seventy years he had passed in the world. Hence the change to him was worse than death itself. Sometimes he wished for death, and even in his more desponding mo- ments thought of seeking it, instead of waiting —waiting through years of darkness, till he should hear its call. But there was a dark corner—a secret in Gerard Grandford’s life which made him shrink from self-destruction. What that secret was no one knew, or ever had known; not even the brother from whom, thirty years before, he bad inherited Cedar Grove; not even his wife, whom he had Joved with a strong, selfish love the two sbort years she was spared to him; nay, not even the daughter who bad married twenty years before the busband of his choos ing, and died abroad of a broken heart, leaving her baby-daughter to his care—his grandchild— oh, so like the child he bad idolized!—and yet with alook in her dark eyes, at times, that re- minded him of her father—the man he had hated so bitterly, and bad seen sink into a drunkard’s grave, ruined and abandoned, with- out putting out a finger to help him; nor when Celia grew up did he ever dream of confiding it toher. Yet, all that night. till early dawn, it was before his mind, and he could not banish it, do what he might. ‘* What makes me go back to past years so, I wonder?” thought he, as he tossed and turned on bis sleepless pillow. ‘Old age and infirmity are making a child of me, Isuppose. But my secret is my own. No one—not a soul—knows it, or can guess at it; and, mayhap, I have no cause to regret, to repent! Pshaw! I ama fool, indeed!”—bursting into a, harsh laugh, which rotsed the watchful servant, who now always slept in his master’s dressing-room. ‘Did you call, sir?’ be asked. “ Call3—no. What hour is it?” ‘Past nine, sir,” was the reply. ‘Ts Miss Saville down?” he asked, ‘‘T will inquire, sir,” was the response. “Yes, doso. But no; I will sleepagain. At eleven you may calime.” And the beavy domestic thankfully returned to his bed, glad of the chance of an extra hour’s epose, ace) ‘ Celia was up and — the garden before her 15 Say SA etal v 20 Penge i kent . ey ees = : oO place contains worth seeing,” ‘The old man was peevish and irritable, and expected her to attend to his slightest wishes and commands. First she read the morning's news to him, listening to bis remarks on the events of the day, and a long dissertation on politics. which neither interested nor amused her. Next she had to take her grandfather for bis daily walk. That done, she sat quiet asa mouse in the study, while he snoozed in bis arm- chair. Then dinner came, and a little music ie (old-fashioned airs and ditties, in which the old a man Solighie’e and toward midnight Celia was dismissed, with tbe sour remark, “that for » one who had been traveling for six months, ies ae bad precious little to tellortosayforher- self, i So day after day passed. Very few visitors = came to Cedar Grove, and those who did re- | . marked that Miss Saville looked ill and worn, not any the better for her trip abroad, oe The weather, which had been cold and rainy all April, took a sudden turn in May,and the sun shone bright and warm, bringing out the_ leaves on the trees and the flowers in the woods ~ and hedges in thousands, gladdening the hearta of many, and even raising the drooping spirite of Celia Saville a little. is) a ae She had been very depressed of late. Her = | grandfather had been in one of those moods — which often tempted ber to believe that he hated her. Mats Same No one had been near the house and she had only received one short, cold letter from Olivia Sutherland since her return. She felt, in the old place, as if she were hidden away in a for- gotten corner from the rest of the world, where. no one would ever find her. " othe One bright, warm morning, however, as she was pacing up atid down with her grandfather ee beneath the trees of Cedar Grove, she saw atall figure walking quickly toward her, and, witha start, recognized the stranger whom she had met in the train. ‘s Nef Joe He advanced toward them with a quiet, self- poseerine air, as ifany idea of being anintruder = nad never entered his bead; indeed, as if he were certain of meeting witha welcome. . He raised his hat as he came up with them, $- ‘**Good-morning, Miss Saville,” he said, quiet- ly. ‘‘ Possibly you may have forgotten me. Tkis is Mr. Grandford, I presume?” — vai ae ‘“‘T am Mr. Grandford, sir,”:replied the old man. ‘One of my granddaughter’s foreign ac- = quaintances, I suppose?” VS <a ‘No, grandfather,” interrupted Celia, am angry feeling filling her breast; ‘“‘I bavescarce- ly the pleasure of this gentleman’s acquaintance, although I bave not forgotten (as he seems to think . may have) his services tome atthe Junc- tion as I was returning home.” As “This gentleman was of service to you, Then let me at least thank bim,” said theold man, ina _ tone intended to humiliate Celia, for histemper _ was anything but good that morning. “Iam, obliged to you, sir, for whatever services yor rendered Miss Saville. You are not American, — 33 I judge, from your accent! Iam a poor, blind, — useless man, you see, and it is only by my hear- _ ing Ican judge and—” “lama foreigner,” he are right, sir.” ek eee ae Lele felt her grandfather’s arm tremble — slightly. 3 ate ‘From what country, sir, may I ask?” he said, shortly. 7 “From Italy,” he replied. rE. peLre ‘* Ah! do you know our country well?’ asked Mr. Grandford. ; ‘“T have spent a very short time in it, sir; but “ answered; ‘“‘and you ~~ I hope to see more of it before [leave again. IT. — heard Cedar Grove was a place of considerable _ antiquity, and presumed sofarasto—"” ‘“« Come in and see it by all means. My grand- — child will be proud to do the honors, and if you will take lunch with us, and smoke a pipe after- ~ ward with me, I shall be glad. Italy isacoun- try ve always taken an interest in; eee: have been in all the other countries of Europe too, of course?” : ae A ‘“‘ Yes, I’ve traveled through them,” he re-— plied. ) eit ‘And as you know my name, and my gral Palace daughter's,” went on Mr. Grandford, ‘ perhaps _ you will tell us yours?” ; ut PS There was a very slight pause before the an~ __ I will make you over to C Saville—and she will show and taking Celia’s arm again, th * the branchi; #
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CHAPTER IIL ae A STORY OF THE PAST. Grorrry Dumont proved himself a pleasant ie anil it was easy to see Mr. Grandford was elighted with his new acquaintance. After Junch he sat talking to him in the drawing- Pras room, instead of retiring at once to the study to” take his afterncon nap, and it was nearly four 4p) ’clock when he remembered that his guest had seen none of the sights of Cedar Grove. tee ay? “Dear me, how time flies!” he said, as he 3: - heard the clock strike. ‘Miss Saville must cS _show you what she can before it gets dark; but you must favor us with another visit, or you will not be able to inspect all of our curiosities. “You are not leaving the neighborhood now?” We _/. “No; lam staying at Ryfield, not more than _, . five miles off,” replied Geoffry. ‘‘It is a lovely ne spot, and I peal bo my walk from it to this .. this morning. am expecting my horse an > dog-cart from New York every day, and pro- _ spose to remain here till I have seen all there is to be seen in the vicinity. ‘Then I shall’ hope often to have a chat with you, sir. Now my povmee eke bg is ready to ‘ee you the house,” replied Mr. Grandford, by Jelia rose slowly from her chair—almost un- ol ‘willingly, as it were. ‘*Shall we go through the picture-gallery first?’ she said, in a con- strained tone, “Tf agreeable to you,” replied Geoffry, witha Ww, Geoffry Dumont followed Celia into the pic- _ ture-gallery in silence. It was a long, oaken room, carpeted down the center with thick _ ‘Turkey carpet, the boards on either side being _ of hig ily-polished wood. It contained portraits . ‘of the Grandfords from the time of the pilgrim fathers to the present day. ‘Mechanically Celia began her task of show- - woman. “This,” she said, ‘is the earliest ancestor, William de Grandfort, we possess; and this is _ his son, or grandson—there is some doubt which. _ This,” she went on, “is Phillipa de Grandfort, _ who married one of the first Dukes of Alber- - —~-—s- mont; and this— But really, Mr. Dumont, Ido hy not think you are listening to me, or looking at _, the pictures,” __.** Pardon me, Iam not so remiss as you im- -___ agine,” he replied, hastily; but, in truth, he had _ been watching Celia, and thinking what a _ beautiful face and form she possessed, and won- _._. dering how she could endure existence with no ary he other companion than the morose old man they - had just quitted, and that it was little wonder “her face was thinner and her eyes less brigbt ‘than when he had seen her six weeks before in the city. Ra “This,” said Celia, going quickly on to an- other group of pictures, ‘is a portrait of later _ .. date, my grandfather’s grandmother, an En- __ glish beauty of the time of the me and—” ae _ “How marvelously like you! Excuse my 1% 2 _ making the remark,” cried the young man. . “Yes; so they say,” replied Celia, quietly ig- — the compliment. ‘All these pictures : are of later date again. I ought to have begun _ » atthe other side of the gallery; but I am not _ such a good show-woman as my grandfather _ imagines. Still, as we have got so near the pre- ' sent day, we may as well take a look at his por- trait, and at my great uncle’s, from whom he _. ‘inherited Cedar Grove. Are they not fine?” _ “Very good—excellent! But—but whose is this small portrait?’ pointing to a small oil- painting of a young man, that hung close by the arger one of the former owner. He was a step behind Celia, or she would have seen a peculiar jook in his eyes, and noted a quivering of the __ lips as he spoke. “That? she replied. ‘Ah, there is a sad _ , story connected with that picture; it is of the catet - only son of my great uncle, who ought, at this ' moment, to be the owner of this property; but _. he had some disagreement with his father—I hardly know what about—and left home, went ees ys ae > < eer ab ttm! om 4, + sy '--——s abroad, and for some years was not heard of. News came afterward of his death. My great ‘uncle, they say, was never the same after it, and soon died, leaving the estate to my grandfather Bs ae , Saige nothing was ever heard more definite- dy othisson. That was long before I was born, = eae ibe “rata I sr og it is the correct account TNE) 4 appened. “rola a “Did he Ble unmarried?” asked Geoffry. “As far as we know. Every inquiry was made, and nothing of the existence of a wife 4 ‘was discovered,” she answered. "No wife—no child?” continued the stranger, at **No,? Celia, with a sigh: “tor grand- father would not’ be the owner of Cedar Grove ne Hor I his heiress,” bn ET ye ‘ ¢ fs ’ ee rr k i‘. fi ¥ * 24. ee cod ea i Sh x Wak 23 oe ohn ee i SN eee Men ths Oe cae en TY ee Fee Ay f { PUT TO A TEST. “Oh, you are to be the owner of all these lands, then?” said Geoffry Dumont, looking at her curiously, “Yes,” she replied, with a short, hard laugh; “unless I should do anything to displease grand- father, and cause him to disinherit me, which well may be,” Her tone was very sad and bitter, and Geoffry pitied her from the bottom of his heart. ‘“‘And if be did, what would you do?’ he asked. It was a strange question; but Celia was ina strange mood, and did not resent it. ‘‘T have no other friends or relations in the world besides him,” she answered. ‘‘I have acquaintances, of course. Well, I suppose I could work—be a governess, or companion, or— One can always die.” “Do not speak so! Do not talk so lightly of death!” returned Dumont, so severely that Celia raised her eyes in surprise. ‘Forgive my warmth,” he said, gently; ‘‘but your tone frightened me. You have a long life of happi- ness before you, I make no doubt.” Celia was offended, and turned haugbhtily ge ; **T am very foolish, as you remark, Mr. Du- monf. Let us finish the gallery before dark. Grandfather is sure to ask me to-night what you thought of his pictures. He positively adores them, and if the place were ever to take fire, they are the first things he would think of rescuing from the flames.” ‘* Doubtless they must be very valuable,” re- plied Dumont, taking a parting look at the por- trait of the ‘‘ prodigal son,” as Celia scornfully named the picture that had so much attracted im. He followed her round the gallery, and out ouce more into the hall, when they heard Mr. rial voice from the study calling to them. ‘* Well, sir, Celia has shown you our gallery, I presume? T would give a good deal to look on the faces of my ancestors again; but I never shall in this world, sir.” And he groaned. “Do not beso desponding, grandfather. You aed canon A—— bade you not give up all ope. ““Pshaw! just like them, a pack of knaves! Never trust a doctor, sir. They are only fit to deceive and flatter foolish women and children. Hope, indeed! No; I’ve put all that aside for many a day.” “Yet one hears of marvelous cures nowa- days,” replied Dumont, quietly. ‘‘There’s none for me, sir—none,” he replied. “TI regret to hear you speak so decidedly, sir,” he rejoined. ‘‘Now I must bid you good- by, for I have five miles to walk before I reach Ryfield.” ‘But my carriage—” began Mr. Grandford. “Not for worlds! I love a walk, and think no more of five miles than many men of one,” he replied. ‘‘Good-evening, sir! Good-by, Miss Saville!” “But you will come again; name a day, I beg,” said Mr. Grandford, on whom Geoffr Dumont had evidently created a very favorable impression. : “ Tf it would be convenient to Miss Saville—” he began. “To Miss Saville! Am I not master hero? What has Miss Saville to say to it?—she is noth- ing here; nothing till I am gone,” said the old man, with a sudden burst of anger. The tears came into Celia’s eyes—tears of shame and anger. Geoffry affected not to per- ceive them. é *‘On Thursday next then, if convenient to ou, sir,” he answered. And bowing to Celia e left the room. ‘““A good talker, and has seen the world. What is he like to look at, child?” asked Mr. Grandford, rubbing his hands gleefully to- gether, “Oh, he is tall and dark-eyed, and looks decidedly like a foreigner,” replied Celia, " “ Ah, ha! not good-looking enough to suit you, my lady, 1 suppose?’ sneered the old man, “On the contrary, he is good-looking— what Ishould call a handsome man, But we know nothing of him, grandfather,” she answered. “True; but he is a gentleman, I’ll swear_to that, although I can not see him, Celia. Di _you show him all the pictures, child?” “Yes, all,” she returned, “And which did he like best?’ asked Mr. Grandford, eagerly. a ” He admired yours and my _gravd-uncle’s es- pecially,” replied Celia, knowing that the intelli- gence would please her grandfather. tl ‘ mots Dies oa ey : ‘+ ie Aap dom is bate fs e mee | 4greeable to him. ’ ‘“‘He-did, did he? Shows his which besides?” he rejoined. a ‘Oh, Elizabeth Grandford’s portrait and your nephew’s, That seemed to strike him particu- ag r. Grandford’s face fell. 2 sé taste. And “Well,” he answered, after a pause, “it is , not a badly-painted picture, though to me there is nothing particularly attractive in the face. Christopher was never a handsome fellow.” ** Don’t you think so?” asked Celia, carelessly. “He asked who it was, and I told him the history of the picture.” “And what did he say to it?’ asked Mr. Grandford, eagerly. ‘‘Nothing much; except that it was a sad one,” she answered. “Hum! it may be best to let that story rest, especially with strangers,” he muttered, turning: away with a dissatisfied growl. ‘‘ Christopher was the black sheep of the family; what’s the good of remembering his errors? Let them rest, do you mind?” “Certainly, sir,” replied Celia, nettled at his. tone of command. ‘Cousin Christopher’s errors are nothing to me; I will not relate his history again.” “Hum! that is as it may be,” muttered the old man, between histeeth. ‘‘ Did Mr. Dumont. tell you anything more about himself?’ ‘* Not a word,” replied Celia. “Ah, ha! they’re nigel those foreigners, from whatever part of the Old World they hail,” retorted Mr. Grandford. ‘He certainly seemed much more anxious to hear the history of our family than to relate that of his own,” rejoined Celia, carelessly. ‘** Quite right, too. Take all you can and give nothing in return, That’s their motto; and not. a bad one either. Now, child, read me these papers, and then you may be off to bed if you choose.” So for the next two hours Celia read aloud, until, seeing her grandfather had fallen into a sound sleep, she retired to bed, weary and dis- contented, and feeling as if her grandfather’s ‘harsh words to ber in the stranger’s presence must have lowered her not a little in his esti- mation. . Geoffry Dumont, in the days that followed, pitied Celia from the bottom of bis heart, and for her sake spent many an hour in the old man’s study. e strove hard to win her con- fidence and friendship; but Celia was reserved, and, it seemed to him, more distant to him than to any one who came to Cedar Grove. So, for some time, try as he would, he seemed to a no advance toward gaining her friend- ship. ; It was a dangerous game he was playing, he felt. Hour after hour and day after day he was in her company—often alone; and though he felt each day how more and more danger- oudy dear she was growing to him, yet he dared not flatter himself that if he had parted from her at any moment she would have felt one pang of regret, Sometimes, when he saw her sitting silent and thoughtful, her soft brown eyes filled with a sad, dreamy look, a sudden fear would fall on his heart that it was perhaps too late, and that Celia had given her love to another. ak wish Be were an American or an English- man,” Gerard Grandford had often thought; ‘he would be a good match for Celia; but can’t bear to think of Cedar Grove in the bands of a foreigner. I often wonder can the fellow or his people have ever met with my nephew, Christopher Grandford? He says he comes from Italy; but whoever he is, he’s a gentle- man, and wouldn’t tell a lie; that I’ll swear!” CHAPTER IV. A DOUBLE GAME, MEANWHILE, spring was gradually changing to summer, and if things were going, on the whole, pretty smoothly at certainly not quite the same at Newport, where Mrs. Sutherland had gone for the benefit of the sea air, followed of course, by her admirer and devoted esquire, Captain Kingsborough, Olivia, however, was displeased with her friend the captain. She imagined she saw a falling off in his attentions to her, so did ber best to bring him to the point, But she found it a harder task to accomplish than she had expected. She had prided herself. for a year or two past on kee captain at a greater distance t She bad snubbed him on wanes coenalons, trea y week together, fil eyes, but the patient captain had borne all these Pe fe . - J § Sev y - Ma du. ket Cedar Grove, it was ing the © an was — im coldly by the flirted with other men before bis —
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oan ore mene / x Re ee _ things without complaining, and she had onl to hold up her finger and tite captain was at he Side; but, for all that, she could not bring mat- ters to a crisis, and the worry and disappoint- ment made her even more fretful and exacting than usual. She had made up ber mind to marry Captain ; (ngsborough, and if six months earlier she : egg showed her intention as plainly as she did now she would have succeeded; but times had changed, and with them the captain had changed his mind. To speak plainly, he had le & part of his very moderate fortune since eur return from abroad, and it had been whis- Pered in his ear that Olivia Sutherland, by marrying again, would forfeit the greater part of her wealth, oreover, the remembrance of Celia Saville Sometimes rose before his eyes to trouble him. e admired her greatly, and when he contrasted her fresh beauty with the made-up face of Olivia, he would sigh gently, and conclude that Poverty was indeed a curse. If Miss Saville only possessed a fortune, he would give up all thoughts of Olivia Sutherland; but Olivia had assured him that she was penniless, and, oddly enough, he never thought of (on this point) doubting her word. After a three weeks’ stay at Newport he ob- tained reliable information that if Mrs, Suther- land married again she would forfeit half her income, .,,Hard lines—very hard lines!” he muttered. hat would leave her little more than three ousand a year, and she’d want to spend as much as that on dress and jewelry, and travel- ing about, and a thousand other things. I shouldn’t better myself in the least by marry- Ing her, Poor Olivia! she would have suited me very well, too, insome ways, not to mention that a wife with means helps a fellow on in the World. Heigh-ho! it can’t be helped. I must retire gracefully, I suppose, and talk about un- Ying friendship, and all that sort of thing.” | And Captain ingsborough was sad when he eTemembered he bad spent the last two years - Chasing a chimera. He lounged over to Mrs, Sutherland’s hotel, r. hig taal, at the usual hour, and found her sit- 5g on the piazza, attired in an elaborate tea- 8own that suited ber to perfection, “p h, you naughty man,” she said playfully; lat ve been expecting you this hour past! How ate you are! A year since, you would have en an hour earlier.” es, I suppose I would,” answered the cap- tain, t’s sea; a year ago you were at Al- derton, where we first met Miss Saville. By Wee have you heard of her lately?” eq NOt very lately,” replied Olivia coldly. a pom, Bek living wih that old man?’ conclude so,” replied her ladyship. ‘ But py oe talk of her, George; I don’t like thinking little aoltiag down her head with a childish “ és ou don’t like thinking of her? Why?” asked the captain, with affected surprise. 7 dont at8? she—she set her cap at you! Now, on't pretend to say you didn’t see it! Of course vt aa “4s “i dint es you used to make me F m half- — Jealous—“tnere Te amed to tell you—absolutely ¢ ealous? My dear Mrs, Sutherland, what Pas ni 5 ig and know, and I know, } my cost, that I can’t marry witbout rao gy acim |® Poor devil” , nse on’t be absurd!” replied Olivia turning, however, a shade paler. Peat money oould <vapiek , She would have married you if she voice that made Olivia trembl c - course,” she replied, ogi i By Jove!” returned the captain, with a kas Jaugh; “she would have found it hard 4 he barns gn 4 oto * Abad which is all I i U ow at her grandfather's,” ee eee at, on't know that at all,” replie putherland, * But don’t talk of her! oi 9 terial aot reece, sree the daily agony she caused A Bie oe xed sa see the last of her!” ‘ ar sho ave guessed it,” sai ae so his eyebrows, serum » you don’t half understand me yet. I never could endure lod bce come between you aid tne aie ea hon +e can never be!” he answered. A, bad Hy beh J best and dearest of | to be ab’ ; ‘s ertitien . mats : a why—why peel Font: 2 eal OM e's ye % CMSA SBE SET CTY TE I A SEPT RTT “my own wishes, Olivia. not yout You suiely | next m aod PUP TO. A. TEST. know—” whispered Olivia, with a genuine blush on ber cheeks, “It is forbidden me,” he replied, solemnly. ‘* Fate is cruel tome. Iam too poor to follow : I cannot marry witb- out money, as you yourself have often told me. Nay, I must find some occupation—get some ap- pointment—go abroad again.” ‘“ And leave me!” cried Olivia, the hot tears filling her eyes, ‘*Yes;I fear it must beso. What else can I do?” he replied. ‘** But—but what shall I do without you?” she cried, wringing her hands, ‘If you go abroad I shall never, never see you again! You may die, or be killed, or—” “T shall never shrink from doing my duty, as aman should!” returned Captain Kingsborough proudly. ‘My poor Olivia, I never imaginec this. You must strive to forget me!” “* Never !—impossible! I had almost rather you had married Miss Saville, I wish—I wish—” “Do you wish I had married another, Olivia? You have uo conception of the pain I am suffer- ing now.” ‘*Pain? I don’t believe in the pain! It is I who am suffering, and I have noone to help. me!” said Oiivia, bursting into very: real tears. “You are cruel; you have deceived me!” The captain bad not expected such an out- burst as this. He looked very solemn, and sat down beside her, and took her hand. ‘“*T could never make up my mind to bring you to poverty, Olivia,” he said, ‘‘and to see you suffering for my sake!” ‘* Ah, I see; it is because Iam poor you leave me!” she cried. ‘No; it is because J am poor,” he answered. “T can bear poverty alone, but not for worlds would I drag you down intoits depths; I should be ashamed. It would be unjust, unmanly; and—and [I feel the hour for tearing myself away from your too dangerous fascinations is come, and though my heart is breaking, I must go where duty calls me!” “To Miss Saville, I suppose?’ retorted Mrs. Sutherland sullenly, with a sarcastic expression on her face. ‘‘ You never were the same to me since the cor you first saw her. But if you marry her, I will be revenged.” she added clinching her little hands convulsively—‘‘ will be revenged, were she twenty times Gerard Grandford’s heiress!” _ She could have bitten out her tongue the mo ment she had let these words slip out of her mouth; but they were said, and she had re- course to another fit of weeping. The captain eyed her with a strange expres- sion, as she lay sobbing, with her face buried in the sofa-cushions; but suddenly a strange look of triumph spread for a moment over his face. “That is it, is it?? he thought. ‘‘She has been deceiving me all this time, has she? But I have forced her secret from her at last!” ** Olivia,” he said, at length, ey you do.me wrong. I knew of Miss Saville’s pros- pects—for that is all they can be called—but, as you well know, it is not she I would marry, but you, if I only could.” “ And—and—” sobbed Mrs. Sutherland. “JT cannot! Oh, why do you add so cruelly to the pain of this, perhaps one of our last meet- ings for a Jong, long time?” he interrupted. A krock at this moment was heard at the front door, Olivia started up from the sofa, quickly wiped away her tears, and arranged her frills and laces. “Barly callers, Kingsborongh. ‘‘Mrs, Astor, my dear George—the million- aire’s wife. I knew the dear creature would call on me as soon as she arrived, and before any one else, and here she is!” The door opened, and a small, stout, over- dressed woman entered, whom Olivia embraced with rapture, during which performance Cap- tain Kingsborough cleverly managed to beat a retreat. ‘‘T wonder wbether my loss or Mrs, Astor’s not calling would inflict the greatest pain on her?” he mused. ‘‘Gad! women are heartless creatures, certainly. Well, I shall leave to- morrow and go and look up the pretty heiress. I think I made an impression in that quarter last winter, 1’m well out of this affair, although | I confess her tears seemed so real that my heart felt, quite soft when Isaw them. Poor Olivia!” The captain walked slowly up and down the promenade, wearing his most cheerful air; and a couple of hours later wrote a heartrending farewell to Olivia, which he took good care should not reach her till after he left Newport I suppose?’ said Captain pe 1 yr i ae , ac yn hye eae Lee _ t . i 3s * . : 4 ‘ “Pshaw! gone to New York. Well, we shalt see him back again in a few days, no doubt,” she said to herself, contemptuously, as she : the letter aside. Z Mrs. Astor having brought a large party of friends with her to her cottage, Olivia passed the next fortnight very foyvly wae din time to be surprised that Captain Kingsboroug had neither come back nor written; and Mrs. Astor invited her to visit her in ber ae | home, and for the next two weeks she had hardly time _ to think of him again. ? “How strange! I used to think I could nob get on without him,” she thought toherself, one = evening when she was putting on a bracelet, his : gift in former days. ‘I wonder what could have made me so foolish?) Henry Astor, though a widower, and not so good-looking as poor George, is really charming; and if his mother didn’t look so sharply after him, I believe he—* And Mrs. Sutherland smiled in a self-satisfied f manner as she looked at herself in the glass. : Sea air had certainly done wonders for her, She was looking infinitely better and younger = than she had done a month before, CHAPTER V. HER FIRST LOVE. ene Grorrry Dumont had now quite established himself at Ryfield. He had taken rooms in the | one little old-fashioned hotel the village pos- sessed; had brought down a capital team from New York, and appeared to have no intention of © quitting his comfortable quarters. nm On one or two occasions he made_ short visits to the city, and it was evident Mr. Grand- ford missed him sadly during his absence. Even Celia felt glad when be returned. He yee Desa ve her hero, it is true. He did not occupy t e pla (ee in her heart or imagination that some one élse . did—some one whom she began to fancy had ns quite forgotten her; nay, who, perhaps, in spite of many soft speeches and flattering words, whispered on moonlight evenings beneath the myrtles and olive-trees of the Riviera buta few. — months before, had never really cared forher, __ treating her only as he had done out of supple. Pie kindness of heart, when he had seen her bu thee vis ae and put out by. Mrs. Sutberland’s capricious temper or vexing ways. , 47H Captain Kingsborough was Celia’s hero, not Geoffry Dumont. in Nevertheless, when she gauged the worth of __ the two men, as she sometimes did, she had to — a confess that in real sterling qualities Geoffry Dumont was ber hero’s superior. True, he — the distingue air, that spoke of familiarity with the fashionable world, and that charac- terized the captain; yet he was infinitely more = straightforward and trustworthy than bis rival Would Captuin Kingsborough have spent hour ~~ after hour in whiling away. the tedious hours _ ‘s for her grandfather, even for her sake? Would he have put himself to as much trouble and in- . lacked the fascinating manners, the soft voice, slightest service? She knew he would not; but = yet, for all that, she allowed herself to look on the captain as a brilliant star in her heaven, — and on poor Geoffry as aeHe alesser light. — Py I ou very foolish,” s Nae oy at Lary Ns of a long summer day, when, her granc er had been more irritable than danal SMe, Dumont is the only person I ever met who always good to me; yet I am constantly say ing hard things to him. Were it not for his care of grandfather, what should I do? ‘Yet, for all the service he renders him, I give bim = nothing but sharp speeches. He isso good—so noble and kind! hy can not I behave see. to him, I wonder? I feel ashamed of myself.” And she leaned back heavily in her chair. _ “T will try to behave better to him in t future,” she thought. ‘‘I ought to be ot ligec to him, I know, for telling me, or rather mahivs me see, my faults in the quiet way he does. . I feel aggrieved at him instead. I will hard to improve.” ce The day after this resolution was made, Cel was so gentle to the young man that he felt heart full of hope and joy. tek seis One afternoon, as they were on the lawn — before the study windows, Celia gathering a great bunch of roses from the laden trees, Geoffry bolding her flower-laden basket for ¢ the sound of wheels was heard on the gra and a carriage drove up to the door. A A moment after, and the footman brot his young mistress a card, She blushed son, and her hand trembled as she read oy tain ngsborou his eral abe said. ge ae b. oh “I saw him two or three «* Sed ate pie Lele ae Assy 2 *y AS tc yr \. . . “ we ah : \e % : a1 ‘ nee % ie < ms, re Adare hee ey oe 2 LN PICS eRe he ILD ae 4 be AE ey Cree te 2
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oy "eae Oe. we “ ae we * it ae ‘ nn Oe oe” oy Pie ae , ; _* Nit : a t ton,” replied Geoffry, as if the captain’s was a matter of no interest to bim. “You did, and you never told me?” cried wi Celia, biting her lips as soon as’she had let slip the words. ‘‘I suppose I shall have to intro- duce him to grandfather,” she added, in an un- 7 rach voice. _ “Certainly, if you wish him to repeat his visit,” he replied, dryly: ‘‘and I shall go and prepare Mr. Grandford. I think I hear him moving.” ' Soe could hardly turn the handle of the door, so great was her agitation; and it was almosta relief to her when the captain greeted ie | 'her with his usual polite manner, and with no ' particular effusion in tone or address. __* Delighted to meet you again, my dear Miss Celia! How well youare looking—r-ally charm- —s «ing! ~ Allow me to tell you I think the air of - your native place and the freedom and quiet of this lovely country suit you far better than - tbe glare and noise and glitter of those foreign ' _ -watering-places we visited ‘together with poor Mrs. Sutherland. ‘“Poor Mrs. Sutherland! _ with her?” cried Celia. - Wrong? Oh, nothing, sad, stern smile that she had seen on his lips when she left | him two hours before in the drawing-room. “Poor Mr. Dumont!” she thought. ‘I have left him alone all this time. bat a shame! He will be hurt, and I like him well enough not to wish to hurt him. sand times better than I did when he first came, ‘and yet—” | Kingsborough was quite different to her liking for ffry Dumont; but still, as she thought of Geoffry’s many excellent qualities, of his kind- ness, gentleness, self-denial, and sweet temper, his handsome face and figure, she could not quite settle in her own mind how it was she found Captain Kingsborough so much his superior. “It must be that he has seen the world, and moved in better society than poor Mr. Dumont. Not that I do not like Mr. Dumont as grand- father once hinted. Quite the contrary. Still, there is a difference. But I must go down now, and see if grandfather wants me, and apologize to Mr. Dumont for leaving him alone so long.” She ran down-stairs to the study, but looked around in vain for Mr. Dumont. ‘‘ What! you left him alone all the time I was talking to Captain Kingsborough?” cried Mr. Grandford. ‘*T suppose you thought he would dangle about alone till it pleased you to come to | g him? Of course he’s gone home, and I shall have no one to read to me to-night.” “*Can’t I?’ began Celia. ‘‘No, you can’t:” retorted Mr. Grandford. ‘The books are beyond you; you would stam- mer and stutter at every other word. But sit down now, and tell me all you know about this Captain Kingsborough; he’s an amusing man, full of talk, and has seen the world. Excellent family, too. I remember his grandfather, East- man Fordham, years ago—a great stock-gam- bler in his day. His father, Harry Kings- vorough—l’ve seen him. I’ve heard there was some kind of engagement between him and your fine friend, Olivia Sutherland. Is it so?” “No; I think—I believe there is nothing in the tale,” faltered Celia. ; ‘““Oh, indeed—indeed!” replied the old man, musingly. ‘* Well, it is pleasant to meet a man of the world again in this out-of-the-way place.” “ There’s Mr. Dumont!” said Celia. “« A very clever, good fellow, my dear, but de- cidedly not a man of the world, in my sense of the word, A foreigner, too,” he answered. “Yes; much—” *Psha! What do you know about it, child?’ interrupted Mr. Grandford, scornfully. ‘* Still, merican.” that’s a pity. Americans are so it is a pity Geoffry Dumontis notan CHAPTER VI. AN OLD FRIEND. ““T SHALL lose her; she will really give her heart to that fortune-hunter—that base, heart- less fellow who bas stepped in between us,” thought Geoffry Dumont, a month later; ‘ and he does not love her! It is only her fortune he wants. He believes she is her grandfather’s heiress, otherwise Iam sure he would not wish to marry her.” ce sunk into a deep fit cf thought as he caught sight of Captain Kingsborough and Celia walking together across the garden and out into the lawn. He very seldom accompanied her on her walks now; the captain always managed to be beforehand with him. He was losing, too, his place in Mr. Grandford’s estimation, he felt. The captain’s racy stories and glib flow of gos- sip amused the old man far more than his more sober talk, and he felt that he was de trop in the study of an evening, where formerly he had been sucha welcome guest. Just at this time Geoffry received a letter from an old friend, a man of some distinction in art, who bad come over to America for the autumn and winter, and taken up his abode in New York, begging him to come to town and pay him a visit. Geoffry hesitated to accept the invitation, though he longed to see his friend | again. The thought of leaving Celia alone with her grandfather and Captain Kingsborough filled him with uneasiness. Besides, the doc- } tors had decided to perform an operation for | cataract on Mr. Grandford’s eyes, and the old . : pt erat ie / a EO i ¥.% cae . Bas Yes, I like bim a thou- | She paused. She knew her liking for Captain | | bitterly. sa F se y ? x . et ; :: : man had long ago made him promise to be present. | But things had now altered, and Mr. Grand- ford was quite willing to dispense with bis com- | pany. Captain Kingsborough had seen the same sort of thing successfully performed on an old brother officer, and bad kindly promised to be with him. vi Celia was of no use, and he was sending her | to stay with a distant relative in a neighboring | town; and if Mr. Dumont had business in New | York, Mr, Grandford trusted he would not put | himself out on bis account. ‘ So a day or two later he called to say good-by ~ | to Celia and her grandfather. He found the | former in tears, and hastened to inquire the cause of her grief. How he wished that bis de- | parture had given rise to it; but he knew bet- i ter now, and the hope tbat he had touched her | heart had long ago faded away. Yet if Celia had only known—if she could only have im- agined or dreamed who and what he was, and why he had come to America and to Aldert.n; if she could but for a moment have looked into his heart, and seen how deep and true his juve for her was; how, from the first moment of their chance meeting in the hotel, he had felt his heart go out to her;—if she could have seen all this but for an instant, together with all he | had dared to win her love, surely she would have felt, if not love in return, yet some sort of regard and pity for him, “What is wrong with you, Miss Celia?” he | said, gently looking at ber with pitying eyes. She rose from her chair, and dashed the tears from her eyes. ‘““Why are you here?” she asked, almost an- rily. ‘‘ Cannot I have my cry out in peace?” ““Certainly. 1 did not mean to intrude; I only came to say good-by, Miss Saville,” he an- swered, quietly. ‘‘ That done, I will free you of my presence,” be added, bitterly. ; ‘“Ob, forgive me!” she replied, repentantly. “Are you going, too, Mr. Dumont? I did not know it before.” ‘“*No; my departure is rather sudden; but it will not be for long. Ishall probably be here again in a month's time, or less.” “And I am to be away a month—a whole month, too,” she answered. ‘ Idon’t know how I shall bear it.” He sighed. “Your grandfather thought it better for you to be away while the doctors are here and un- til he has recovered from the operation, I should have imagined you would have been glad of a change.” “Why? I am quite happy as I am. I did the house just—. not wish to be sent out oF just—” And the tears rose to her eyes again. ‘*No: I can understand well enough why you do not wish to leave,” he retur: ed, bitterly. “And why, pray?” she cried, her cheeks flam- ing and her eyes sparkling. ‘Do you think I am quite blind? Do you think I have no feelings?” be returned, hotly, “Can I not see who it is that has come between us? Ah, how differently you have treated me since he has been here, Miss Saviile!” “He? Ah, I presume you allude to the ca tain?’ retorted Celia, indignantly. “I think, unless I am makin: a great mistake, tlat Cap- tain Kingsborough was wy friend before I ever had the pleasure of your acquain:ance, and I don’t think I ever gave you the right to—te speak in this way to me, Mr. Dumont.” ‘Perhaps not; no, I have no right,” he re- plied, quietly, his anger dving out. ‘Yet we were friends once—before he came.” my The disdainful accent he put on the word ir- ritated Celia. ‘* Acquaintances of very sbort standing, say rather,” she answered, sarcastically. **Celia!” he cried, such pain and grief in his voice thas her heart smote her, though out ward- ly she preserved her cold, cruel demeanor. **Mr. Dumont!” she replied, in the same sar- castic tone, hightened by a touch of surprise. ‘* Miss Saville, excuse me, if you looked on me all this time as a mere acquaintance, I am sorry © both for myself and you. Good-by; I am foo}- ish for having intruded on your solitude, and I will leave you,” he replied, sternly, his eyes fixed onhers. _ | They fell before his gaze, and again she felt how cruel her words had been. She wouldhave spoken, but in a moment more he was gone, and then sinking down again on her seat, she wept Never perhaps had she liked Dumont so sin- _ cerely asat that moment, when she knewthatshe _ had wounded him to the quick. Never had she felt such regret for ber iokiid words as she felt ~~ w Ve S cote ts ida See al ee
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s _ Geoffry,” he said ‘Sutherland. She— ~ - . ‘ ; Her face flushing a little. ‘“ Andi Lg nedikely to parry off the fair heiress?” eh it be ol” laughed General Paulet, a short, | a pn hg man with a jolly face. ‘So Kings- we'verh 8 heiress-hunting is he? i " ’randfather,” wa = - z = : ; om Fr " haga she heard him crossing the hall. . She yy knew his horse was at the door, and that in an- er moment he would be gone. | She started up as if to rush after him and say _|& kind word before he left her, but she heard the trampling of the horse’s hoofs on the gravel, |} 4nd he was off; it was too late. Twelve hours later and Geoffry was in New York with his old friend, who being a man of note had been introduced in the most cultivated circles in town. ‘You must come with me to-day, my dear “and call on Mrs, Olivia «7, Mrs. Sutherland!” said Geoffry, with a start. Dye heard a great deal of Mrs. Olivia Suther- nd, and I should not have thought—” hat she was the sort of person I should @are for,” «YOU are quite right,” rejoined Mr. Barelo; ut she has a charming country woman of ours ‘ying with her, and—” “Oh! that alters the case,” replied Geoffry, With asmile. ‘Let us go, by all means.” | And the entrance of the servant, who came announce that the carriage was at the door, Prevented him from asking the lady’s name. fri ts. Sutherland, let me introduce my end, Mr. Geoffry Dumont,” said Mr. Barelo a abey entered Olivia’s -luxurious drawing- i if M : . : ~ id dear Mrs. Lintoni, my friend Mr. Du . Geoffry bowed in a preoccupied manner; his ps 8 were fixed on the tall, delicate-looking wo- Lint whom his friend had addressed as Mrs. thee. He recognized her at once, though af had not met for years, and at a glance he W she recognized him. Ge I think—yes—we have met before, Mr. offry 1 And she hesitated. “y, ffry Dumont!” he said, with emphasis. As Mrs. Lintoni, I remember you well.” rs he shook her hand. tera t say a word; I will explain!” he mut- Fate as Mrs. Sutherland turned to introduce Sie other visitors to Mr. Barelo. es © nodded, and turned to speak to one of the him, Ze" while Mrs. Sutherland accosted 4“ aire ate have I seen you before, for I am bewii ace seen you? My poor head is sacily za b ered to-day ” (and she sniffed at her smell- ae ottle), ‘or I should remember— Ah! to .oure!—I remember now; it was—” train t the —— Hotel, and afterward in the ye rad Le rare right, Mrs. Sutherland, you ; ing a foreigner. And he lnahadl ee bass ma I can tell an Italian at a glance, and and ne greatest admiration for your country jie. Mn iry men. Sit down here beside me, Mr. and Pi » and tell me how you find my country time? t'tymen. Where have you been all this New yan how is it Ihave never met you in thane ork before?” said Mrs. Sutherland with (, MOst gracious volubility. ecause I have been in the country ever a ince the season ee had been staying. and) “V© been at Ryfield,” he answered, “And have you me i fords, my darling a — ane ear ea I have been often at Cedar Grove, and aon ad the pleasure of seeing a good deal of ot randfords,” he answered, while Mrs. Lin- i a looked at him for an instant with a glance need arp inquiry, and then continued her con- eae tae Mr. Barelo. eed! And you admire dea i oe and she is the old man's eteagere "se ‘a assbe many admirers? Is she engaged i ~ married?” asked Mrs. Sutherland. repli eae beauty cannot pass unadmired.” then . a coffry, with a smile; “but I do not ccc iss Saville is engaged. She is away ke mers Visiting some friends; but Captain &Sborough is still in Alderton with her Ohi Bain Kingsborough in Alderton!” cried by gard nothing of him for so lone. fat fortuyes, I suppose.” bod always, his obtiott sly dog,” Pcie ae ees 3 2, a4 Ae at a . ao MO Roy “PUT TO’ ‘TRS E laughed another. “Never looked at a woman unless she had money. What may Miss—the fair heiress’s fortune be—Mrs. Sutherland?” ““T don’t know—I can’t say,” replied Olivia, “but she’s a sweet girl, and it’s a shame she should become the dupe of a fortune-hunter. He races, does he, general? How shocking! He deserves to lose his money. Poor Celia! But the old : Gee might alter his mind any day, and leave her nothing. Captain Kings- borough may be deceiving himself. He had better take care.” ‘* By Jove, my lady,” replied the general, ‘‘I don’t envy the poor girl who gets George Kings- borough for a busband. Men are selfish as a rule, but Kingsborough beats any man I ever met. As to a heart—ho! ho!--if he has any—which I doubt—it must be but a very battered remains. He’s always been making love to one woman or another since J’ve known him, and that’s for twenty years.” “And what do you think of him, Mr. Du- mont?” asked Mrs. Sutherland, turning round. But Geoffry had left ber side, and was in close conversation with Mrs. Lintoni at the other end of the rooms. They were evidently old friends. ‘So he’s making love to that foolish girl, all for her money!” said Olivia to herself, as, one after another, her guests having departed, she found herself alone. ‘‘And I was fool enough to believe he loved me six months ago, and to feel sorry when we parted! If 1 had had a for- tune that he could have got hold of he would have married me; as I had not, he threw me over. Most people would say it was a good thing for me he did so; but he hurt my feelings, and—and 1 will be revenged! He shall not marry that silly girl, I vow! I will prevent it!” Olivia then thought of the letter the captain had written her the day he left Newport. It was safe in a corner of her sandal-wood desk. She would manage to pay a visit to Alderton ae ena the captain’s matrimonial plans if she could. ‘ She was a frivolous little woman, but an ex- cellent hater; and the idea of paying out Cap- tain Kingsborough for desarting her was de- lightful to her to contemplate. ‘““T only hope I shall not find her so infatuated with George that she will refuse to believe the evidences of her eyes and senses, and will vow that she believes he never really loved till he saw her, and all that rubbish. Faugh! how foolish girls are! But, at any rate, I will puta spoke in his wheel.” After making this amiable resolve, Olivia re- tired to her dressing-room, to be arrayed for a grand dinner-party at her friend, Mrs, Astor’s. CHAPTER VII. THE TURN OF FORTUNE’S WHEEL. “So it seems you and Mrs. Liutoni are old friends, Dumont?’ said Mr. Barelo, as they drove away from Mrs. Sutherland’s. ‘‘ You had a long conversation with her. Is she not charming?’ ‘*TIt is many years ago that I met Mrs. Lin- toni. I wonder she recognized me,” said Geof- fry, in a musing tone, in reply. ‘‘I should have known her anywhere. Sheis little altered during the ten years that have elapsed since we met. But I was only a boy of seventeen. Odd! —she says it was my voice, which she declares is like my mother’s, that recalled me at once to her memory.” . ‘¢ Ah, she was a friend of your mother’s, was she?” replied the other. ‘‘ That accounts for it. Ten years, and that beard that you take such tender care of must have sltered you consider- | ably; but ten years have done little to mar Mrs, Lintoni’s beauty. I think often she throws many a woman much her junior into the | shade.” ‘“‘T can fancy it,” replied Geoffry. ‘‘How | artificia) and made-up Mrs. Sutherland looked beside her; yet I guess they must be about the same age.” ‘*Hal ha! Mrs. Sutherland would not thank you for that speech, my dear boy. She looks on Mrs. Lintoni as quite her elder. Do you know that one time, as I am told, she intended to marry the very Captain Kingsborough she and her friends were talking over this after- | noon, but for some reason things came to a sud- den determination, and he cried off? Not, I suppose, that anything they said of him was harder than he deserved.” ‘I fear Celia—Miss Saville—would not agree with you,” said Geoffry, bitterly. ‘‘I think he Mr. Barelo looked at him anxiously. “Geoffry, my dear boy, how stupid I have 1 Fancy my “Einnat Tove’ Ce at’s why | has only to go in and win, and—” eee aa ia Savillet’ Yes; it is too : SE a ERE Se ey oe ey es et Rh Be ee et he ee a ME SU cai oa Sea ena Oe ne ee ee ’ BAe Lge seh. Se at. ae. Sa ie ee kL eT ae ee true!” he replied, sadly. ‘And she prefers— eg she—but £ cannot believe—” he began. “She =| has known Captain Kingsborough for months, pve She traveled with him and Mrs. Sutherland last winter. He has had the start of me, you see,” replied Geoffry, with a groan. ‘But the man is simply seeking her fortune, Geoffry. You must stop him. You can— = ou—’ xj “Yes; but would that give me her heart, ’ Barelo? If I cannot gain that, why should 1 | ee try and come between her and the man she| loves, and who perhaps loves her?” “ { um! her fortune, more probably, Tmai bad hand at giving advice in these matters; but I should say it would be a kindness if—” ‘No, no! I could not. I understand you, Barelo, but I feel it’s impossible!” sighed Geoffry. “Well, you know best; but ’—and he bright- ened up—‘‘consult Mrs. Lintoni, my dear boy. Women can see further into these matters and Ae understand them better than men. I conjec- ture, from what I saw to-night, that Mrs. Lin- © toni knows—” oan “Yes, or guesses, or divines—which is all the ~ f same—all about me. I will.consult her,as you say; but, mind, I will do nothing to injure or distress Celia,” ‘Would it be injuring her, or the reverse?” » retorted Mr. Barelo, ‘Believe me, Dumont, there is no life so miserable as that of a woman who finds the man she loves has married her > for greed. If you can save her from such a gE fate, do so.” : “F will talk to Mrs. Lintoni; I can promise no more,” returned Geoffry, firmly. 4 So Mr. Barelo let the subject drop, though he ~ by no means put it out of tis mind. = Mrs. Lintoni’s thoughts that evening, as she * ¢ sat alone in her friend’s boudoir (she bad de- , clined Mrs. Astor’s dinner) ran muchin thesame ~ “Oh, my darling Mrs. Lintoni!” she cried, half laughing, half in tears—tears of joy and — ey not of sorrow, however, as Mrs. Lintoni quickly — Bro perceived—“ congratulateme. My old aumt— my mother’s sister—the one who made that — dreadful, awful mesalliance, you know, fifty = years ago—is dead, and has left me all her money--five bundred thousand dollars, Mrs. fe Lintoni, all made in soap-fat, of course. But I AS don’t care about that. hy, I shall be—Iam— ~— oft one of the richest widows in the city !” Nas ey: “My dear, I congratulate you, of course,” replied Mrs. Lintoni;—“‘ but your poor aunt—” _ 418 ‘‘Ob, it’s very sad; and I must, of course, ae put on mourning, much asI detest black. Itis on) a color that doesn’t suit me a bit, but [needn’G = keep it on for long. Oh, won't Mrs. Astor be © 8 sorry now that—that— Butit won’tbe toolate yet. Pe ks ‘What a fortunate thirg for me thataunt died just when she did!” ie eee ‘“‘My dear Mrs. Sutherland!” remonstrated Mrs. Lintoni. ieee oY “Ob, I’m shocking you, I know,” continued Mrs. Sutherland, with a little laugh. ‘‘But, _ really, you can’t expect me tocare much foran aunt whom I have not seen since Iwasachild, — and who disgraced herself by marrying t Be way she dic, although it’s turned out a lucky . - thing for me that she did. But ’msureJI shall get more pleasure out of her five hundred thou- sand dollars than she ever did, poor old thing!” ‘Perhaps you will,” returned Mrs. Lintoni, — with a smile; ‘‘ but such wealth is a greatre- sponsibility, my dear. You have it in your, — power to do much good or ill with it.” tr Vie “Til! laughed the other; ‘What harm can I possibly do to any one with it, you dearcrea- | — ture? Ill promise to subscribe toa NE eS i ties, if you like, and you shall choose them— _ there! That will be doing good; and, astomy — friends, what parties I shall be able to give!— By the way, I’ve never ordered the blinds tobe drawn down, or given the servants to under- — stand I cannot see any one to-day, except, of course, my most intimate friends. Excuse me, dear, and I'll just explain it to them.” A All in a fluster and flurry, Olivia flew down- stairs to her merning-room. , A sudden thougbt made her flush, and seat herself in an arm-— ‘Tecan punish him well now!” she thought. et Saville, and Tw es ~
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handsome young Italian said of George and the _, heiress, and see what I can do to pay him out.” _ She sat some time longer in deep thought, a triumphant smile on her lips, and then she gave _her orders and sat down to write some letters, AS A iew hours later a note was brought to Mrs. _ Lintoni. She read it quietly through, wrote an | answer, and then went up to her room, and put- ¢ a MY ioe _ ting on her bonnet and cloak, went out alone =~ ¥ ’ -... taking the direction of the park. Wa: “What! Mrs. Liatoni has gone out?’ cried mt? ype Sutherland, as she woke up from an after- : uncheon nap, and rung the bell to ask where _ her friend was. ‘‘How inconsiderate of her _when I can’t see visitors!—except, of course, Mrs. Astor, if she should call, or—or Mr. Barelo, or Mr. Dumont,” she added to the servant. Mrs. Sutherland had not very long to wait at home in solitude, however. In half an houra carriage, with a driver and footman, drove up _ tothe door, and Mrs, Astor was announced. __.. “Your house looks positively funereal, Mrs, _ §utberland,” she remarked, as she entered. _ Then noticing Olivia’s suddenly assumed air _ of grief, and observing that she held a tiny lace _ handkerchief to her eyes, she added, hastily: “But there is not anything really wrong, is . 2h it ere?” Alas! yes, my dear Mrs. Astor,” she replied. a # aunt, my only relation (though for family ___ reasons we didn’t acknowledge her), is gone; she __ died yesterday.” **Dear me! I never knew you had an aunt living,” replied the other, curiously. ‘I never heard you speak of her.” ___“*She was my dear mother’s only sister,” re- plied Olivia, sadly, ‘‘and she has shown her _ affection for me by leaving me all she has.” ‘‘Indeed! Dear me! How suddenly these ee oe my dear! It must have been a ‘shock for you. But her fortune?” _, “It isample—more than ample to satisfy my ‘small wants, dear Mrs, Astor!” replied Olivia. “Not that I, with my simple ways, require much, you know.” “Hum !—perhbaps,” replied her friend, who, - as Olivia well knew, was dying to hear all about it, and to learn the exact sum, ‘‘ What might she have left you, my dear? Another ' thousand a year or so would make you very comfortable, and—” And, as Mrs. ‘Ah! but it is more than that. Lintoni said this morning, great wealth is a responsibility.” Great wealth?” said Mrs. Astor, raising her eyebrows, — “Yes, great wealth; at least to a person wiih my bumble ideas, dear friend. Five hundred thousand dollars.” _ “Five hundred thousand dollars!” cried the ther, starting up. ‘‘My dearest child, I con- ieaiailate you!” _ “Tt may even be a little more,” continued Olivia, carelessly, after returning her embrace with warmth; ‘the lawyers don’t quite know yet. There may be an odd thirty or forty _ thousand more. She bad property to a large ie rebel oe West, and its value has greatly _ increased, __“My dear, it’s splendid—princely, you know! My son has gone on a trip out West, and I ex- _ pect him back from there in a fortnight. It was to tell you this I came to see you to-day. shall hope to have you at our home on the fe We ~ Hudson for a long visit this autumn, my love.” Olivia bowed and blushed, and said she would 9charmed, Then added, hastily, ‘‘This must e a secret between us for the present, my dear , the ‘th nh Me Ay MR Ce eke cS fy ual ah MM enace a ag ier Pek. pe pee | tis ices ia ae ¢ 2 ah i ae sf om Ayia Se Me Vt 7, sg 1 “ce R Lee y wih e . : -. I have higher game to fly at than Captain George now. With such é fortune, even Mrs, Astor would not object to me as a daughter-in +» law; and last year her son was willing enough— ee Ob, I made an impression there, I know, only his mother interfered, and he had to obey! Let | me see; I think I'll go out of town in a week or BN so—run down to Alderton, and go over to Cedar ‘Grove, and see if it is really true what that dy pl aa i ‘*Ob, an Italian too; an old friend, I believe. You remember Miss Saville, who traveled with me last, year—old Gerard Grandford’s heiress? He’s been staying with them lately, and i hear—” Olivia stopped suddenly. ““Mr. Gerard Grandford! He inherited an immense property from bis brother, and there was a queer story about his brother’s son, who | ran away, and was never heard of again. A ‘very good old family, my dear. Miss Saville is bis heiress, I suppose? But what did you hear? You were saying—” “Oh, nothing, nothing!” replied Olivia. ‘**Only that Captain Kingsborough—” ‘** Odious man!” ejaculated Mrs, Astor. ‘‘ Don’t have anything to do with him, my dear; heisa fortune-hunter.” ** And, in consequence, is making up to Ge- rard Grandford’s heiress, my pretty Celia,” laughed Olivia. But the laugh was not very genuine, as the quick-witted lady beside her saw. ‘“‘No, child! No relation of mine should marry aman like Captain Kingsborough,” she continued. ‘‘I remember your pretty Celia, and I pity her.” ‘“*SodoI. But what could Mrs. Lintoni and Mr. Dumont bave been talking of so earnestly? I never saw Flavia Lintoni look so interested before.” “Oh, exchanging the last New York gossip, I suppose,” replied the other. ‘There they are again!” cried Olivia. ‘‘ Don’t they look as if they were hatchiag a conspiracy? Pll make Flavia tell me every word Mr. Du- mont has told her.” ‘‘ What, are you jealous? Has the tandsome Italian made an impression on your tender little heart, child?” said her friend, with a touch of scorn. ‘‘ But it’s curious,” she added. ‘‘ Who is it that he reminds me of, I wonder? Some one I have seen in the days of my youth—years and years ago.” ‘“A chance resemblance, I fancy,” rejoined Olivia. ‘Possibly. Now here we are at my dear, and now we must part. I see you on Friday.” ‘** Adieu! A thousand thanks!” replied Olivia, tripping gayly into the house. ‘I don’t mean to be here on Friday, however, if I can help it,” she added to herself as the carriage drove off. ‘*T am not afraid you will put any further hin- drance in my way of becoming your son’s wife, so I can afford to give a little time to bringin about George Kingsborough’s punishment. i shall probably go down to Alderton on Friday, Ah, here is Mrs, Lintoni! Now to find out what was the subject of her conversation with Geoffry Dumont.” ‘“We were merely talking over old ti~ es,” said Mrs. Lintoni, soberly, when Mrs. Suther- land rallied her on the earrestness of ber face as she talked witn Dumont. ‘‘I knew his mo- ther—that is the great tie between us.” “And he told you no more of Celia and George Kingsborough?” “Nothing new. He fears she loves him, and that he will marry her. I tell him he should not permit it.” ve ow can he prevent it?” asked Mrs. Suther- and. **'Well, he could marry her himself,” said Mrs. Lintoni, evasively. “Nonsense! Mr. Grandford would never ponents it!” cried Olivia, ‘‘ He has a hatred of oreigners!” **T am not so sure of that!” was Mrs. Lintoni’s answer. hae door, 1] come and CHAPTER VIII. FOREW ARNED. MEANWHILE, at Cedar Grove, the doctors had arrived who were to perform the operation by which they hoped to restore to Mr. Grandford the use of bis eyes. It was successfully gone through, and it was hoped that if the old man would but have suf- ficient patience to remain for a certain time without removing the bandages from his eyes, the cure might be perfect. All the time Captain Kingsborough tended him pobre and by his amusing conversation managed to keep bim quiet. _ He had prevailed on Mr. Grandford to allow Celia to, return: and when Mrs. Sutherland, as she had threatened, arrived at Alderton, she was on the point of leaving the house of the with whom she had been staying and urning to her home. Ae ENE as, ayia, r aL es it Soy rot neal Lp Pe ee ee ea ee et Patras : (= i : vr ? ny f ‘ 2 oe fo ik ys | ne D | ° ‘ When Olivia appeared in the homely little drawing-room of the old maiden lady, ber host- ess, her appearance gave Celia a thrill almost of pain. Why, she could hardly explain. There was a look of mischief in her eyes, an eagerness in her demeanor that made her divine she was the bearer of some evil news. } ‘What ages it is since we have met, my de Celia!” she said, after the first greetings were exchanged. ‘‘I have often longed to see you; but I have been so much gene I found it im- possible to get away. And now—but are we alone, my dear?—I have something to speak to you about in private. Take me somewhere where we shall not be disturbed.” , A ‘*Let us go into the garden, then,” said Celia, her heart beating violently. ‘‘ We are not like- | ly to be interrupted there. Miss Cressey never goes out at this hour.” “Very well. How charming you are looking, Celia!—only a shade paler than usual. What a lovely old garden! Let us seat ourselves her in the shade.” : They sat down on a bench at the end of an aveuue of lime-trees. “Celia, my dear child, it is for your good T have cowwe down here. I have come to warn you!”—dropping her voice to a solemn. whisper. “To waro me!—of what?’ asked Celia, with an almost scornful smile. ‘‘ Am I in any dan- ger then, Mrs, Sutherland?” J “Certainly; in the greatest danger. I come to warn you against the designs of a fortune- hunter—against George Kingsborough.” Celia turned pale, then flushed angrily. ‘““Who told you Captain Kingsborough had designs on my fortune? Who has turned you against ei ba who used to be his friend, and for whom he had such a regard?” she cried. ‘*His friend! Yes, I was his friend once, cer- tainly, and I might have been more; but I learned in time his true character, and dis- missed him. It was not me he loved, but my money.” ‘He loved you!” cried Celia, starting up. a “Certainly; or he said he did, and I might have been his wife by this time; butI circulated — a report that if I married again I should forfeit my fortune, and he left me, not three weeks be- fore he came to you here.” om ‘‘But before, when we were abroad—” Celia faltered. \ ‘*Pshaw! My dear, he was making love to me all the time. He did not know in those days, Celia, that you were an heiress, and, I suppose, thought me the best match,” For a moment there was silence, r “Tcan’t believe it—I cannot!” said Celia, — slowly, breaking in at length. ‘‘I—I think you — are wrong.” = “Oh! if you mean to tell me he did not really care about me, I dare say you are right, my dear,” retorted Mrs. Sutherland. ‘I bave no doubt he makes love to you as prettily and as easily as he did to me; but, for all that, he pre- — tended to love me; indeed, I haye—” “But who told: you he-he loved, or pre- — tended to love me?” faltered Celia. ~ \ ‘*Bah! We who know George Kingsborough — —all bis old acquaintances in town—can guess — pretty well what keeps him for weeks at a duil place like Alderton; the hope of making arich — marriage at last,” replied Mrs, Sutherland. “Captain Kingsborough has never said—has — never proposed to me,” faltered Celia. . ‘‘Ha! ba! but something very like it, eh? He will doubtless get your grandfather’s permis-" sion first. He is far too clever to risk offending P bim in any way, for Mr. Grandford might alter his will any day, and if be did, believe me, my dear, your gallant captain would ‘ride away,’ — as the old song says.” At the mocking tones of her voice Celia’s an- ger rose. **T do not credit it,” she cried. ‘You are only trying to tease and annoy me—to make me — miserable, as you often did abroad. I donot see why you should try to blacken Captain Kings- borough’s character to me—” “Only because I have your true interests at ee my dear,” interrupted Mrs. Sutherland, © coldly. ‘ ““T don’t believe you have; it isfor some other — reason—I—I can’t tell why,” she retorted. “You | always tried to keep us apart, tut I know that — if you bad Jet him—” : ae “ He would have made love to you whenever — my back was turned—I can quite believe that, — ‘Celia: and if my eyes had been more open to bis — vices and deceitfulness, then I should not have permitted him to be so intimate with us. But — what I have told you is true, and I would not mind staking m ‘tune that if I were to tell | Captain Elngabor a the truth concerning my
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om px thankf ae al of her grandfather’s sight, but also for the ; — ‘Money, he would throw you over and come back to me,” “There would be no throwing over in. tho case,” cried Celia, with tears in her eyes, ‘‘ Do not go away with the idea that—” “That George Kingsborough loves you, cer- tainly not, my dear—he is not capable of it; and it is of that I come to warn you. But I can see fim? enough, my poor child, that you love im. _-, Celia blushed crimson. } “You are ¢ruel, very cruel,” she began. -’ “No; Lamnot cruel. IfIcan save you from ‘ he aay have done you a great kindness,” sie replied. “At any rate, as Captain Kingsborough has | not at present proposed to me, it issurely unne- Cessary to discuss this most unpleasant subject _ donger, Mrs. Sutherland,” replied Celia, coldly. “Let us go back into the house.” ** Well, forewarned is forearmed,” said Olivia. **You know what sort of man you have to deal with, and—” , ““Excuse me; I still think you are mistaken in Captain Kingsborough. He is a gentleman and ® man of honor.” “Pshaw! Say rather a horse-racer, a gam- bler, anda fortune-hunter! I wish I had brought his letter with me, Celia—the letter he left for Mme when he went off from Newport; but I did ‘hot think you would have been so unbelieving,” retorted Olivia. “Well, I’ve done my duty, and warned you, and if you choose to throw Peet away on him, I can’t prevent you. erbaps your grandfather—” “Grandfather thinks Captain Kingsborough & perfect gentleman!” replied Celia, loftily. ‘How long do you stay here, Mrs. Sutherland? _ My grandfathert’s eyes are so much better, that T return to my home this evening,” said Celia, as they passed in at the garden gate. ‘Oh, to morrow or the next day I must go home! By the way, lam an heiress now, ina Small way. My aunt has died and left me her _ Small fortune. Don’t tell George Kingsborough that, though, Celia; I don’t want to be troubled With him again. Good-by, my dear!” _ | _ And kissing her hand as she lanched this part- ing shaft at poor Celia, Olivia departed. , “Detestable woman!” muttered Celia, stamp- ing her foot angrily. ‘*She has said all this to urt me, and because, I suspect, Captain Kings- borough did not propose to her. And yet—yet —it is very..odd—there are sometimes things - about him that make me doubt if—” elia walked back to the house in silence. he had been now some three weeks or a month Without seeing Captain Kingsborough, and had had time to think over matters, and to contrast 1S conversation and manners more fully with those of Geoffry Dumont, not always to the for- Mer’s advantage, and in her more sober moments She would wonder what made her prefer him to the latter. ; She was to return to Cedar Grove that after- noon, and it wanted but ashort time to the hour appointed for starting; so she re-entered the oni and began to prepare herself for her ive, “Good-by, my dear! How grave you look!” said her old friend, as she bid her adieu. “I could almost fancy you were sorry to leave me and my dull little house.” ig nd ! am, dear Miss Cressey,” replied Celia. I have had sucha peaceful time of it here; ut I must set to work again, you know.” Ab, yes! We have all work to do, and your grandfather is a great charge, I know, _ my dear. Well, good-by! My compliments to Mr. Grandford. “I hope his sight will be re- 80 Geli So a seated herself in the big carriage the fat old carriage-horses, and ~ found Ft! again at the gates of her grandfather’s Her heart beat quickly as th b on ofthe ha y ey drew up at the be) aptain Kingsbor her a oe gsborough be there to meet Sh © was not there, and for an instant she argc bee he wight have left, but the sight of his it and coat in the hall reassured her, ‘The master is sleeping, miss,” said James in _ Snswer to her inquiries after her grandfather. cite is better, and in a day or two is to be “tia to remove the bandages from his | Celia turned awa: ulness, not on nil SO ~~ She walked out into the garden, wondering where Captain Kingsborough was, and walking down a long avenue of thickly-growing, closely- clipped cedars the sounds of voices came to her ears, on the other side of it. ‘* Yes, sir,” were the first words that fell on her ear, and the voice she recognized as the voice of her grandfather’s secretary, a man she had never liked; ‘+I should say the whole prop- erty is worth ten thousand a year. But it would bring in balf as much again if Mr. Grandford would follow my advice. The factory, sir? Why, it’s letat a monstrous low rent, and there’s two or three more investments almost thrown away.” Celia wondered whom the man was addressing. Was it Captain Kingsbcrough?—and could he be really a fortune-hunter, as Mrs. Sutherland had said+—and was he trying to find out the exact arount of the wealth she was to inherit? ‘*The carriage has come in, sir,” went on the secretary; ‘‘so the young lady must have re- turned, and you'll be wishing to see her; so good- evening, sir!” He moved off, Celia blushing scarlet at the tone of his voice, and rushing down a side-path lest he should discover they had been over- heard, or tiat the captain (if it were Captain ae ei he had been speaking to) should nd her. She reached the house, however, without meeting him; and if was not till she entered the drawing-room, dressed for dinner, that they met. His greeting was a mixture of tender warmth and deferential respect that could not fail to touch Celia and banish from her heart the sus- picions that had found rest there. Where was there another so gallant, so attentive, so fas~i- nating and clever as George Kingsboroug.? Surely he must be true elso! Mr. Grandford seemed well pleased at his randdaughter’s return—pleased, too, to hear er chatting so pleasantly with his friend. Once or twice he began muttering to himself, as he often did; and Celia overheard the words, “A capital match for ber—good old family— she could not do better.” And she felt a rush of joy in her heart. Her grandfather, at any rate, did not think Captain Kingsborough a fortune-hunter. Indeed, Mr. Grandford treated bim with an amount of confidence and cordiality that aston- ished Celia, accustomed as she was to his repel- lent manner. He called him several times b his Christian name, talked to him of family af- fairs about which she knew nothing; and she found herself wondering how it was that he had gained such an influence over the stern old man, : As days passed on she wondered yet more at what she saw, and fancied she often detected an air of possession about the captain that vexed her; but the next moment the impres- sion would be obliterated by some word or look that made her reproach herself for her sus- poise, and wonder at the hold Mrs, Suther- and’s words had taken of her. A letter reached Captain Kingsborough about this time that made him look grave. “He read it over twice and pondered deeply. “Do you know, Miss Saville, that our old friend, Mrs. Sutherland, is in trouble? I hear she bas lost her aunt—almost her only rela- tion. Celia started and blushed searlet. “Only fancy my forgetting to tell you! was so happy at getting home again I forgot everything else, so you must forgive me. But Mrs. Sutherland was in Alderton the other da , and came to see me, She told me of her aunt’s death.” *‘Indeed! And—and I see my friend Roy- son says the old lady has left her all ber money.” ‘Yes, she told me; all her little fortune, she said,” returned Celia, uneasily. “Indeed! I wonderhow much? Mrs. Suther- land is poor, and extravagant; it will be a god- send to her!” said the captain. ‘‘ Did she tell you what the amount was? Royson speaks as if it were a large sum.” ** She said not; and I did not inquire further, as it was not a matter of interest to me,” re- turned Celia, coldly. ‘OF course not; neither does it matter to me,” he rejoined carelessly. But he read the letter again, and then put it carefully away. “Vil find out all about it. Dll ride over to Alderton this very day,” he thought, ‘ and write t “ 2 Oe be Sava Same Talc Se i apa . ai Re ei cea Fat a His Fo a eer. er ee cae a z ; +"), J . , aon ~ : , 4 “>, * ral. Ge * 5 e Re CHAPTER IX. are PLAYING FOR HIGH STAKES, ACCORDINGLY the next morning saw Captain — Kingsborough on bis way to Alderton, eager for — an interview with Olivia; but early as he set out, he found ber just stepping into the carria : that was to take her to the station, where she — was to catch the first train to town. Bi ‘Captain Kingsborough, I do declare!” she) — cried, facing him with a playful smile on her — face. ‘*Well, how goes it with the heiress? — Am I to congratulate you?” ; nt ‘“‘T—TI hardly know what you mean,” he fal- — tered; ‘‘ but if you allude to—” 5 ad “Hush! bush! no names; but of course Ido,” she returned. 7 id He shrugged his shoulders. ee ‘“* What foolish story have you been listening — to?’ he asked, ‘‘I only heard yesterday that you were at Alderton, or I should have been — over to see you and to congratulate you, Olivia.” —~ She looked at bim sharply. he a “What on? Oh, the little bit of money my — poor aunt left me, Nonsense!—it is not worth mentioning, Captain Kingsborough. Well, I~ must be starting, or I shall lose my train, Good- — / tees ‘Let me see you off; it will be quite like old times,” he said, imploringly. Ri atk He was not yet quite convinced of the small- ’ ness of ber aunt’s legacy. By ‘Ob, yes, if you wish; there is a seat for you,” she replied, carelessly. : eee And before stad Kingsborough saw the train start for New York, she had managed to ~ throw dust into his eyes most completely, and to’ . convince him that she was not worth giving hs his designs on the heiress for; while shé had discovered exactly how far tnings had gone ~ between him and Celia. jo eae “‘T can save her and balk him,” thought Olivia, “and I will do it. What a mean creature he — is! One word from me, and he would have left — that poor foolish child to cry her eyes out about — bim! But sbe bas common-sense enough, and when she reads a l'ttle note I will send her, : surely understand his true.character.> = ‘“* It’s no use thinking of her any more,” mut- tered Captain Kingsborough to bimself, as he rode home. ‘1 must speak to old Giandford, and settle matters at once; of course he’il Celia something on her marriage, and I sha’ have long to wait for the rest. The old fe may recover his sight, but it’s easy to see f ry the bush, asked Mr. Grandford for his daughter's hand. ait? **T love her devotedly,” be said; ‘‘and I shall do allI can to make ber happy. I am ae P rich man, but have enough for us both, and if have your consent to speak to her, I do not think T shall be refused. Money is a seconds consideration with me. We can speak of the if you please, after I have made myself sure of her affections.” nf oe ‘** Very good—very good,” said the old rather sarcastically, ‘* Pleasure first, and ness afterward. 1 don’t say, however, tha’ are wrong. And you think that Celia is disinclined toward you? There is no great c fidence between us—my fault, I fear—so I m ~* 4 trust to your judgment as to that; but you my consent,Captain Kingsborough; aioe is not accustomed to gocontrary to ay eee bave no doubt when she hears that she will accept you.” *‘ And we will talk about money ma so forth afterward, I suppose?” said tain, hoping the old man might be led plainiug his intentions toward Celia mori “Certainly; as I said before, hurry about that, Make it all x young lady first, Kingsborough, will follow.” irate “Then I'll go and look for her, sir, with permission,” replied the captain, © dare say I sball find her in the mornings ‘* Go, and good luck go with you. If she w Kings ‘ listen to reason, bring her to me, bo I know how to manage ber. Ha! ha!” la the old man, as he rubbed his hadide x] together. “Good!” .he chuckled; “t match for her! But will she take Beas somewhat old fora girlof ber years. = = _ ‘“* Margaret was but two nue my ¥ member, Ab!” and he bid his fa to Paulet for all the particulars, if I can’t | balf thougbt Geoffrey Dumont n ; Bice herself. He knows everything, and | her fancy; but he’s a foreigner, ‘| will be sure to be able to tell me.” © | ~—— erty should never hav bis AAS RO aT st is Pi aes wok wee os ve ge = eA A 2 "I - g *, ey vane
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iM ek See 4 ve. : i TE a Be Rie ce rs ) “ ia 1 x 2 f Gkoh eea ee eS AEE Se ae Saeed SE Seah ee ee , ae ‘ a oh vain Captain Kingsborough searched for Celia that afiernoon, She was neither in the _ morning-room nor drawing-room, nor in the garden; and though he wandered far out ‘through the park into the village, be could not _ find her. She had gone out, the servants said, ‘some time before, and had not returned. _ She had gone out. So far, they were right; - but she had returned with a letter given her by _ a postman, and had retired with it to her own room to read: and when Captain Kingsborough _ was searching for her through the grounds, she ia was sitting bidden in her own little dressing- -_- room in a passion of grief and perplexity. +The letter was from Mrs. 4 _ along with it she had inclosed a note: utherland, and ‘ A “IT saw you did not believe what I told you about George Kingsborough the other day, my dear Celia,”’ ‘she wrote. “I am sorry to hurt your feelings, but I -- implore you to read the letter 1 inclose, and by no means to give yourself to the captain before your | acti a has read both my letter and the note I I think my duty to you end to him who you to my care requires me to ask this of &» gf a you. | With a trembling hand, and hot, fiushed a oo Celia had read the note sent her. At “<a _, the first glance she ppercorsen it wasfrom George '. Kingsborough, and of very recent date; and _. when she laid it down, a rush of shame and de- _ spair filled ber soul. Either Captain Kings- _ borough did not love her, and she had been de- _ ceiving herself with false hopes, or he loved only her fortune, and it was to gain it that he was striving so earnestly. _ . She read it again, and a sickening feeling of _ disgust filled her heart. Them she laid her head _. on the sofa-cushion and wept bitterly. She took up the note again. Surely the ex E Ssaor it contained, though warm, were not _ beyond the warmth of friendship? Tbere was _ no word of marriage in it. There was regret 4 parting, and protestations of never-dying af- fection and regard. Nothing beyond, except hat the writer hinted he had once hoped they might gp riage time been more than friends; uti that, Celia thought and tried to persuade ierself, might have been a long, long time ago. ‘She puzzled and pondered. It was hard to drag down from its pedestal the idol she had set ee see in the brilliant man of the world she lo be fi u 7 X - fis d looked on as a hero nothing but a deceitful, gning fortune hunter. She felt crazed with yt and uncertainty. Was Mrs. Sutherland ‘ing her false, or was George Kingsborough? & ‘hat! you couldn’t find her?” she heard Mr. ford say, as she entered the dining-room. Ah, here she is! Where have you been hiding, child, all the afternoon, leaving us to ourselves “a De <a _ “I have had a—a headache, and have been in my room all the afternoon. Did you want me, andfather?” she replied. “A headache! I am so grieved!” began Cap- tain Kingsborough. “Aheadache! Bosh! Well, we’ve got some- hing to say after dinner that will take away her bh sa George, haven’t we?’ laughed the _ Celia paled, ana looked from one to the other, and met the captain’s eyes. “T trust so,” he said, meaningly, while Celia s her arm, as usual, to her grandfather, and d him to his seat. ‘here was an understanding between the two ‘she plainly saw; and if Captain Kings- ugh did propose to her, she saw that ber lfather expected that she would accept him She spare little during dinner, but the two en kept up the conversation briskly. ere was something, however, in their tone at jarred on Celia’s overwrought and sen- ve nerves, and she felt a feverish impa- e for the meal to be over, so tbat she might her escape. no such luck awaited her. Scarcely bad ssert been put on the table, and the ser- left the room, when, on rising to depart, f PUT at ~ Ea Sey i a8 Sik lity so FO. AS TCS tf v Now you are been hiding yourself from te say to you. oh ae here, my dear, he has something Eb, George?” “T have, sir,” faltered Captain Kingsborough, who, however, rather shrunk from proposing to Celia before her grandfather, ‘‘ but if Miss Celia would prefer to wait till to-morrow to hear what I have to say—” “Wait till to-morrow! What is the use of pe it off, George? J’ll tell her if you like. ur good friend, Captain Kingsborough, has done you the bonor of offering you bishand. He wishes you to be his wife, Celia.” Celia turned pale. “ ae George, haven’t you a word to say now. You seem quite flustered! Do you want me to do all the love-making for you?” he con- tinued, with almost ferocious jocoseness. “Speak, man, or I shall think—” “T am afraid we have frightened Miss Celia, sir, by opening the subject so suddenly,” said Captain Kingsborough, his hrow darkening. ‘J should bave preferred to speak to her—” ‘*By moonlight alone, I suppose?’ sneered Mr. Grandford, who appeared to be in one of his most eccentric moods. ‘‘I did not think you were so sentimental, George, or—” ‘* But,” continued the captain, ‘‘as you have broache¢l the subject so openly and unexpected- ly, I will speak to Miss Saville before you. She must have seen how dear she is to me, and will not be surprised to hear that my first and greatest wish is to make her my wife—that I love her—” “Ts it sot—can that be true?’ asked Celia, abruptly lifting up her pale face, and looking the captain steadily in the eyes. “True? Can you doubt it, Celia?’ he replied, fervently. ‘“‘ Long, long ago—last winter, when we were abroad, | longed to tell you what Iam telling you now, only—” “Only what?” asked Celia, in the same tone. “Only I thought it best to secure your grand- father’s approval and consent before I did so,” he replied, after an instant’s pause. ‘*Ts this so, sir?’ she asked, calmly turning to her grandfather. t **Ts it so? Listen to the girl!” cried Mr. Grandford, half in anger, balf in surprise. “Yes; it is so, Celia. And I have given my consent and approval; and I tell you, my dear, I consider you a fortunate girl.” “ But—” began Celia. ‘*But what?” cried Mr. Grandford. “I will have no nonsense; I—” ?, “But let Miss Celia speak, I beg,” said the captain, in an agitated voice. ‘‘She will not keep me in suspense longer than she can help, I know, for Iam sure she feels that suspense is weny painful to me.” here was a real tone of anxiety in his voice that touched Celia’s soft heart, and for a mo- ment she thought of setting his mind at rest, and settling the whole matter by consenting to throw in her lot with his for weal or woe: but Mrs. Sutherland’s words of warning came back to her forcibly, and she checked herself. ‘‘T must ask for time to consider,” she said, slowly. ‘*As you say, Captain Kingsborough this has come upon me rather suddenly. I did not expect it, believe me,” sbe continued, hur- riedly, seeing the expression of real disappoint- ment that gathered on his brow. ‘‘I feel the honor, the compliment you have paid me, and am far from indifferent to your kindness; but yet—I can only beg—give me time to think of “Just like a woman!” sneered Mr. Grand- ford. ‘*Doesn’t know her own mind! Time, indeed! Haven’t you had time enough?” “Certainly not. Oh, grandfather—Captain Kingsborough, do not hurry me!” she cried. ‘Of course not, Miss Celia; your will is my law,” replied Captain Kingsborough, gallantly. ‘““Mr, Grandford, you will agree with me, I am sure, that we should do as Miss Saville wishes,” : “« And when does my fanciful fine lady think she will be able to know her own mind?” asked the old man, scornfully. ' ‘In ten days,” replied Celia, quietly, without noticing his tone. ‘‘ You wil] give me till then, Captain Kingsborough?’ “Tf you say so, I cannot refuse, much asI feel the disappointment,” he replied. “TY had so hoped and believed that— But I will not urge ou. \ And he turned away; while Celia, without another word, left. the room. a a LL ‘ K OA Teer 2" CHAPTER X. THE RIGHTFUL HETR. THE doubt grew and strengthened itself as the next few days passed slowly on. Captain Kingsborough was more gloomy and silent tham usual, and although he lost no opportunity of making her gallant and pretty speeches, there was an uneasiness in his manner that she could not put down to bis suspense as to what her an- swer to him would be. Meanwhile, the doctors had allowed Mr, Grandford for a short time each day to remove the bandages from his eyes, The operation bad been successful, and after a year of darkness he beheld once more the light and the world around him. “Well, Celia,” he said, as on the appointed morning his granddaughter entered his study alone, holding in her hand the letter she had re- ceived from Olivia, and Captain Kingsborough’s note, ‘‘ you have come, I presume, to show me those mysterious letters you spoke of, and which have prevented you, as you tell me, from ac- cepting George Kingsborough. Ah! from that fool, Olivia Sutherland! I thought as\ much. She set ber cap at Kingsborough, as every one knows. But what is this?” And his brow darkened for an instant as he read George Kingsborough’s name at the bottom of the letter Celia handed to him. “You see it cannot be that he really loves me, grandfather, when only a few weeks before he came here he was in love with Mrs. Sutherland. I’m afraid it is only—only because he b: lieves I am your heiress he wants to marry me.” Mr. Grandford was silent for a moment, and then burst out with an angry oath. ‘Tt is that idiot—that spiteful little idiot— who has done all the mischief,and set you agaiust | Kingsborough. Here,take these letters and throw them into the fire. I ama fool to have wasted my time and eyesight over them. Kingsbor- — ough is a gentleman, and loves you as much and more than you deserve. Put all this jeal- ous nonsense out of your head, and behave like a girl of sense. Give me my shade again; the light burts my eyes.” : For a moment Celia hesitated. ‘‘Grandfather, I cannot marry him!” she burst out at length. ‘‘I do not believe he is true. There is something about him that makes me believe he is deceiving me. Oh, how could I ever have fancied I cared for him?” And a; that moment Celia felt that her idol was, indeed, but an idol of clay. ‘“Ob! so you bave changed your mind, have you?” retorted Mr. Grandford with cutting sar- casm. ‘‘Just like a woman! You lead on m friend Kingsborough, and then for a foolis whim or fancy you throw him over. Now, onee for alJ, I tell you, whether you be my heiress or not—” “She is not your heiress!” said a calm voice beside him. ' And starting with a sudden terror, Celia per- ceived a tall, graceful-looking woman, dressed in black, orien close to ber grandfather’s chair,.and behind her a figure, so like the por- trait in the picture-gallery, she had in former days playfully called the Prodigal Son—the | picture of her cousin, Christopher Grandford— that she stood struck dumb with amazement. There was a deep silence for a moment, and Celia could hear her grandfather’s long-drawn breathing. ‘‘Grandfather!” she said. ‘What, you here?” he cried angrily. ‘‘ Leave the room at once! Go!” he added. And tearing the shade from his eyes, again he faced his unexpected visitor. No look of recognition betrayed that he had any previous acquaintance with her. “Who are you?” he asked, his breast heaving. ‘Who are you who dare to speak such words = my presence? You have never seen me be- ore. “You are right, sir,” she replied, coldly; “but here is one whom you cannot fail to recog- nize, _The old man turned round. As he caught sight of her companion, a ghastly change came over his face, “Christopher!” he muttered, ‘‘ Christopher Grandford! my nephew—after all these years!” “Not your nephew Christopher, but his son Geoffry!” he answered in a voice that made Mr. Grandford start again, “Pardon me be- cause I came to you une: aly my mother’s was bidden at once, by Mr. randford, to There was still a great doubt in her heart. | name. I came with a pur , es , E _ | She did not believe it was to secure her grand-| ‘‘ Doubtless,” interrupted the old man, a bit- Celia! you must not be too cruel,” he | father’s consent be bad refrained from speaking | ter laugh issuing from between his white lips. ‘Here has George Kingsborough been | to her when they were in Italy. Some other | ‘‘ Your purpose was not far fe Syese—to uin a Il the afternoon, and you have ' motive had restrained him, " , ‘wae and turn me out of house and home, and © “3: es ai GPR aD alk en, eae aaeres M5: Peehai in i he Noy hae ee g a Sees ee ot a MRTORTE OEE? age PE eee GY ey nah Os ee men Fi ae a oo i ey OSS Ci gags a Es yt A PaaS TE ee it wae
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claim be min the property I have always believed to e—” i * own!” put in the lady, calmly. am Mrs. Lintoni, Mr. Grandford — Emile Dumont’s cousin! We have never met, but we have cor- mded before.” burning flush passed over the old man’s ‘ow. His secret was about to be made public —the secret he had buried so deeply that he be- lieved it would never rise again to confront bim. Your proofs!” he muttered, looking at Geof- “y ay Ihave ample proofs of who I am, sir, and it! But do not think I come here with the desire or intention of wresting from you the | property you bave so long looked upon as your own. No;1 am your nephew’s son— our own flesh and blood, sir! would wish to bring disgrace and dissension on the family?” ; Mr Grandford looked from one to the other as if stupefied. ‘But why did you steal into my house under a false name?” he muttered. “If you are my nephew: if—” “IT will explain it all, sir,” replied Geoffry, ‘eagerly. me, would not for worlds do a mean or dis- honorable action; but—” And he hesitated, and Mr. Grandford laughed - Coldly and cynically. And you expect me to believe all this— to believe that a poor need y adventurer, com- ing for the first time to the land of his fathers, _ With full proofs, as he declares, of bis claims to the family property, wiil drop these claims and give up these rights for the sake of a miserable old man who has knowingly” (and emphasized the word) ‘‘kept him out of them—for I did know of your existence when took my place here as head of the family, though, year after FSi passing away without your appearing to disturb-me, I had grown to Persuade myself that you were dead, and I really what I called myself, the owner of m rother’s property. Now you know all—all that J, or this lady, whom [ also believed dead, can tell you of me, and you will perceive that you are not bound to me by any ties either of gratitude or affection! Produce your proofs, Tr. and when you have done with the lawyers 7-for I will fight my cause out to the end, as it is—you can have the pleasure of turning me and my granddaughter out of house and home, and exposing my perfidy—as I sup- Pose the world would call it—to the public!” ‘Do not speak so, sir!’ replied Geoffry, Quietly. ‘* As I have told you, I have no in- tention of disturbing you, and if you have done me an injury, I freely forgive it. Will you believe me, uncle, and give me your love and confidence, instead of mistrusting me, as See you do?” ite Geoffry held out his hand to the old “What!” he muttered, drawing back. “To Save the family honor will you give up your claims, and—and—” iu. Lbave no need of wealth,” repiied Geoffry. In Italy, uncle, I have estates inherited from my mother to which your property will not rcomparison, 1am neither poor nor an ad- -Yenturer; I have no need of the money you _ enjoy. It was not even to claim it that [ came to America. _ Until I saw Miss Saville, I had no . ee of making myself known to you. Now, ove for her, and the hope of saving her from what I would look on as worse than death or has induced > _ “Ido,” replied Geoffry. fi ‘My word is given,” replied the old man Tmly; ‘‘and if you are a Grandford, you will understand that it cannot be retracted.” pect it Miss Saville refuses?” said Mrs, Lin- ¥ Tae r y. in Then—” began Mr. Grandford an i) & moment his face changed. wk _ Rot my heiress now.” the ® is your heiress as long as I do not claim Property, sir,” replied Geoffry; ‘but 1 tell rily; but h! she is ts Cay Plainly that it was to prevent this mar- ty re if possibie, I came here to-day. George Singsborough do ’ ia. It i Money 2) es not love Celia. It is her ves him.” _ Py aps" [ ‘‘And how do you propose to prevent this H “se 1 . . ° That you have always chosen to call your | of sarcasm in his voice. Prepared to show them to you if you wish ; Do you think | * Believe me, no ill-motive actuated | fi ; +t | Za, marriage?” asked Mr. “Tn love and war all things are fair, they say; but—” ‘*To me the method is a simple one enough,” replied Geoffry quietly. ‘‘You have given your word to Captain Kingsborough. May I ask you if you have also given him to understand Celia is your beiress?” ‘Faith! the world knows, or fancies it knows, that,” laugbed the old man harshly; ‘‘ but we have bad no talk about money matters yet. He put that off till after the betrothal should have taken place.” ‘*Good!” cried Geoffry. ‘Then all is clear steering before us. You bave only to tell Cap- tain Kingsborough that Celia is not your heir- ess, and he will soon find an excuse for ridding you of his company and giving up his preten- sions to Celia’s hand.” | ‘Good Heaven, sir! do you believe him to be , | such a wretch?’ cried Mr. Grandford. “If I thought so— But no; it is impossible.” “Pry, and you will seeIam right. It is the | only favor lask of you. If 1am wrong, thena week at most will see me on my way back to | Italy, and I shall never trouble you more.” There was a long silence, broken at last by Mr. Grandford, who spoke in a strangely soft- ened tone. “‘Tf all you say as to your intentions, as well as to your identity—and I do not doubt the lat- ter—is true, you are a wonderful man, sir; but the proofs—iet me see them.” “Certainly,” replied Geoffry. ‘‘Mrs. Lintoni has the marriage certificate of my father and mother, sir, which my mother sent her to take care cf when she went to India with my father. As you areaware, he died, and reliable proof of his death was given you, as also of my ex- istence.” Mr. Grandford moved uneasily, and seemed about to speak, but Geoffry went on: “From Mrs. Lintoni you had this informa- tion, and you promised her, in this letter, to spare no pains to find us; and three years later, when she returned to Italy, after a long absence, she heard: that my mother was dead, and that I had left Naples with a stranger. She concluded I had gone to America and to you; instead, I was traveling almost in igno- rance of my father’s history, and of my rela- tives in merica, till, among my father’s papers—which I, as my poor mother had, most ei gaa preserved—I found the whole history of his life, and learned who I was, I let a year or two pass without starting to visit the land of my father’s birth; then a yearning to see the place that he had known and loved as a boy, and to make acquain- tance with the places he spoke of in his letters, seized me, and last spriug, only a few weeks before I came here, sir, for the first time, I started for America. Here, sir, are the letters my father left.” Mr. Grandford took them up one by one, and slowly perused them, his face stern and cold, ‘while Mrs. Liutoni and Geoffry sat silently by, watching him. ‘‘Tt is well,” he said at last. ‘‘ You are my great-nephew, Christopher’s son, and 1—” ‘““You are owner of Cedar Grove, and my father’s uncle,” replied Geoffry, firmly. “ And Celia—” began Mr. Grandford. ‘She must on no aecount know who I am,” cried Geoffry, eagerly. ‘I love her, and you know, sir, how strong and unchangeable the love of a Grandford is. If she marry this George Kingsborough (which Heaven forbid) you will hear and see little more of me. But if not, then I purpose to remain, and strive to win her heart—not as Geoffry Grandford, your nephew, but as Geoffry Dumont, the Italian, as | she has always believed me to be.” ‘* You love her truly, then?” said the old man, | in a voice of emotion. ‘More than life itself! Will you not give me the chance [ ask you for, sir?” be returned. “You have a right to demand it,” answered Mr. Grandford, with a sigh. ‘Yes; I will tell George Kingsborough this evening that Celia is not my heiress. nd faith! I can say so with truth now.” For an hour or more they sat talking of the ast and future; and then Geoffry and Mrs. intoni left, and Mr. Grandford sunk beck in his chair, and covering his face with bis bands, sat till darkness closed in around him, alone and silent, h s heart filled with shame, remorse, and bitterness. ine ‘PUT TO A TEST. randford, with a touch her grandfather might be, and why she had spoken such strange words, and as she thought — of them her heart beat with joy. Lsig ee “Tf they are only true,” she thought, ‘‘my — doubis of wohl ngsborough will soon be cleared away. If Iam not grandfather's heir- ess, as she said, he will have no reason for mar- rying me save for love; and then I shall know g - bed from her lap to the floor) ‘‘is all a lie. € that this hateful letter,” (and she tossed Olivia’s orge Kingsborough cannot be such a cold-- blooded deceiver as she would have me be- , lieve!” : : And then she thought of Geoffry, and his | strange likeness to Cousin Christopuer she bad ~ discovered in him since he had shaved off his | Re beard and whiskers. What did it all mean? ~ She was puzzled, and could give no answer to the question that troubled her. : CHAPTER XI. CHECKMATED, eis MrEANTIME, Captain Kingsborough, who had gone into Alderton that day, bad been passing anything but an easy time. He bad received — ‘letters of various sorts, some of which had per- — plexed, and some of which had alarmed, and aJl of which bad annoyed him. % Two told bim of racing losses; and another — was an angry demand for money from a credi- _ tor: another, a not less peremptory reminder — from a money-lender; pe ten theonethat perplexed bim, was froma friend, asking him why, in the name of fortune, he had given up Olivia Sutherland and her enormous fortune, to buryyh little beiress, whose wealth was as nothi pared to the other’s. “Come up and try your luck at once,” the letter concluded, * or you will be too late; unless, indeed ” Bria (and Captain Kingsborough could quite appreciate = the ironical intention of the writer), in love with your country beauty.” morrow I suppose I shall be forma to my country heiress.” . A ge: It was late when Captain Kingsborough re-_ turned to Cedar Grove, so late that Celia had — gone to bed, but late as it was, Mr. Grandfo sent to request him to come into the study, as he had some business to talk over with him, = ‘To tell me I am accepted, I suppose, and — what [ may expect with my bride,” thoughtthe captain, stroking bis long black mustache thougbtfully. ‘Bother old Paulet! I wish I were certain about Olivia’s money.” er ee ‘“‘Good-evening, Captain Kingsborough,” said _- Mr. Grandford, as he entered the study. “You _ are late to-night.” poss, ‘Yes, Jater than I could have wished,” replied Captain Kingsborough. ‘ I knew, I trusted, at least—you would have some news to tell me to~ night, for the ten days for which I was to wait for Miss Celia’s answer are over.” = a ‘‘Yes, they are over,” he copie’ turning a ap white, haggard face toward Captain Kinge- odie borough, ages se “You are ill, sir!” he cried. ‘‘ Let us put of this conversation for afewdays. I havetorun up to town to-morrow for a day or two, and! can wait till—”’ ¢ eee ‘No, no, better have it over at once,” replied — Mr. Grandford. ‘‘I fear I ought to bave been more open with you, Kingsborough; and if IT bayve now to tell you puts you out ats shall bitterly chy 318 my mistake. You love ! granddaughter, Kingsborough, is it not so” ~~ ‘* With all my heart and soul,” cried the cap- tain; inwardly, however, much perpseee i. J Mr. Grandford’s speech, ‘It is to learn if- loves me in return that [am now here.” ‘‘T believe—I fear she may,” returned } Grandford, musingly. “You fear! I believe you approved of sir, and sanctioned my suit to your grandda ter,” repmied the captain, warmly. — Arg “Yes, yes; don’t mistake me. I have giv my word, sir, and do not recall it; but _ you may have made your proposal for hand under a misapprebension and witb idea that she is far ricber than she really “How so, sir?’ asked the captain, ti | pale. ‘Is not Miss oe our heiress, th | “No,” replied Mr, Grand firmly, ‘‘s ] not my heiress. roe 4: . eet eis Beyon ER RON
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eas: bana BOSS L¥ 4 a ‘rages 7 ‘the wreck of her father’s property, she has nothing, and at my death will receive nothing from me.” _. _- There was a dead silence, which lasted a full - minute, Captain Kingsborough’s face had 3 grown very blank. Dy “This certainly takes me by surprise,” he said, atlast. ‘‘ I—people—rumor always—” . ‘People always believed Miss Saville to be my heiress—I know that,” replied Mr. Grand- ford; ‘‘but, as usual, people are wrong. I _ thought that before things went any further be- tween you and Celia I would let you understand this fully.” “Then am I to understand that you give your KE: . phate ae nothing?” cried Captain Kings- _ borough, in angry amazement. ashe i but what is her own—some fifteen or sixteen hundred dollars, sir,” he answered. ~ *’¥ou told me you were well off—bad enough, in fact, for both—otherwise I might have told ~. +you sooner what Celia’s fortune was. I do not think I ever told you I intended to leave her anything.” : _. “Perbaps not in words, sir,” retorted the cap- -. tain, getting more and more angry; “but you allowed me to imagine rumor for once spoke ._ the truth.” : “I know little, and care less, what the out- side world says of me avd my intentions,” an- swered Mr. Grandford, abruptly; ‘at any rate, _ L have spoken plainly enough now.” _ “You have, indeed!” answered Kingsborough, bitterly. ““And now, if you wish it, I will tell you _ what Celia bas said to me. Girls, a know, require to be humored. I’m afraid I was cross aS - with Celia, and we were interrupted before we had bad our talk out. Still—” ' Then, if you please, I will wait to hear Miss - Saville’s reply till—till I return from town; and , --and I must say, sir, before I leave you, that I - think I have not been treated fairly; that, in- deed, [ have been treated very unfairly by you. hale ’ gna dy e- ere, ay ot ~ not a little. I doubt, in fact, if it will not oblige me to put off our marriage for a time; but we must talk of this another time. I will leave you now, sir, as I must start for town eae Say good-by for me to Miss Saville, and : tell er I await ber answer op my return.” _ “So be it, sir!” replied the old man. And without giving bis hand to George Kings- borough, he slowly rose, and: walked from his study to his bedroom; while Captain Kings- ‘borough, sorely angry and disappointed, retired _tohis room to make preparations for an early start on the morrow. He felt himself to be an ill-used man; he felt . if he bad been cheated out of his rigkts by . Grandford. _ What had he gained by spending weeks in his ‘society? Why had he willfully misled him as to Ce ition in his house? “The old fellow’s mad—that’s my impres- ah,” be murmured; ‘‘ but it’s well he told me in time. It’s all that little viper Olivia’s doing. What a spiteful, treacherous little creature she is! It was she who told me Celia was Grand- ford’s heiress. Hum! I wonder why Paulet , as not written? If her fortune is really large, I must strive to regain her confidence. She _ was very kind to me the other day at Alderton, and did not seem to bear malice for what has passed. I wonder did she know the truth about Boliat Tl soon find out. Poor little girl. I wonder if she’ll be much cut up at losing me?’ . Next morning, just as Captain Kingsburough was leaving, a letter from General Paulet was put into hand. It was written from New YYork,, and confirmed the news of Olivia _ Sutherland’s wealth. Sits Pace On ‘seen all the law-papers myself,” said he» _**go you can believe what I tell you. Come and i make up your quarrel with Mrs, Sutherland at once. Bhe /a& great future before her.’’ _ The captain rubbed his hands in glee. _ “ What luck!—what an xectomaitsres'y piece of fortune! If I had once become engaged to Celia Saville, I might have found it hard to break with her; but that confession of the old moan’s last Lt ge nia me, Olivia shall be m i wife, and with five hundred thousand dollars, As would not wish for a better partner!” And all the way to New York, Captain Kingsborough meditated on the wonderful good ¢ ne in store for him, for he had little or no _ doubt that Olivia would accept him for ber bus- band, There was only the task of writing to Mr. Grandford, and crying off his match, with «.ia to be got through, and then all would be ain sailing; and he felt a life before him, ety, My oy p> % wy an 7 re i Lgl 7 : 4 a “sy Cut Moats + pe rsa i te.) J ee of luxury and Sah ie. aM ae Sl ee OU as Fe f. Sha 5 ae _PUT To A TEST. When be arrived in town he drove straight to her house, but found she was away in the country. He was not sorry. It would .give him time to write to Mr. Grandford, and settle matters with him before he saw her;’/and with a cheerful smile, he turned his steps toward his hotel, and next next day he penned the follow- ing epistle to Mr, Grandford: “Dear sir,’’ he began, ‘“‘the very extraordinary news you communicated to me on Tuesday evening obliges me to write to you in astrain which I had never imagined it would have been necessary to use, I have every respect and esteem for Miss Saville, but being a comparatively poor man, I can not afford to ‘marry unless my wife can bring a fair portion to me, to enable me to keep her in the style in which she should live. I regret, therefore, to inform you that after your disclosure, so long and so strangely delayed, to me the other night, I feel it my duty, much as I suffer from doing so, to resign my preten- sions to Miss Saville’s hand.” “The mean cur! Celia was right, after all!” muttered Mr, Grandford, as he flung the letter savagely from him. ‘‘Geoffry was right. By Jove! the girl owes him a good turn. I must tell her her suspicions were correct, and she had better forget the fortune-hunting rascal as soon as she can. Poor child—poor Celia! But I trust she has not given him her heart.” Celia, with some surprise, had seen the cap- tain drive off that morning, and a fit of remorse seized her when she thought that perhaps her grandfather had given him to understand that she was unwilling to become his wife; but Mr. Grandford had said nothing to her on that day or the next, and she half-expected Captain Kingsborough would return on the morning she was summoned into her grandfather’s study, and saw the letter in George Kingsborough’s handwriting on the table. : Her heart beat quickly as it caught her eye, and Mr. Grandford accosted her in a voice so kind and gentle that she hardly recognized that it was his, ** Celia, my child,” he said, ‘‘ I have sad news for you. Your doubts of Captain Kingsbor- ough, together with—with other things I have learned, caused me to tell him, when I spoke to him the other night on business matters, that you were not my heiress; and that, beyond your own little fortune, you would bring him nothing.” “Yes, ‘and he?” “He seemed greatly put out, and left the house the next day, as you know; and this morn- ing I received this letter from him. You were right in your suspicions, my poor child; it was your fortune, and not you, that he really want- ed.” Celia took up the letter and read it through slowly. ‘*Mrs. Sutherland was’right,” she said, in a husky voice. “I--was unjust to doubt her. Grandfather, I thank you. I have bad an es- cape. I had made Hp my mind to trust him through all, and you have prevented me from making a fatal mistake,” She was silent, and two big tears rolled down her cheeks, ‘‘Celia,” said the old man, in an almost frightened voice, ‘‘ you won’t fret over this— you won’t let it prey on your mind? Oh, child! have been harsh, and hard, and exacting, I know, but yet I love you, and your tears go to my heart.” n a moment, Celia’s arms were round her grandfather’s neck, and for a moment or two she sobbed quietly on his bosom, while he sooth- ed and petted her. At length she dried her eyes. “You are right, grandfather; he is not worth crying for,” she said at last, with an effort. “I was foolish even to fancy him a hero. I ought to have seen through him sooner. I will try hard to forget him.” “That is a brave girl,” seer Mr. Grand- ford. “ Never give him another thought, child; he is not worth it.” . But though Celia put a brave face on the matter, her heart ached for many a day after- ward. Not only were her feelings wounded, but her pride and vanity were deeply hurt. She had believed George Kingsborough loved her for herself only, and behold! it was only her grandfather’s money he cared for. At the first intimation that this was not to be hers he had left her, without so much as wishing her adieu or expressing a regret for the pain he caused her, And quite carelessly, almost forgetting the existence of the girl who he had imagined would soon be his wife, did George Kings- borough, ten days later, enter Olivia Suther- land’s drawing-room and seat " Ae Nl ie : TaN grandfather,” said Celia, eagerly; ‘ meee Nw bp a i oeie ae a himself beside: 5 s Foe aa. Vir . el Moly mile aa tt a velit oh ay 0 DEY READ een Gem alle Sah A etn Vin ye EL ld Ske ie 6 2h on Dea a gaat her with the air of a privileged friend. There was a look of confusion and bustle, however, in the room that surprised him. Olivia shut up her blotting-book on the letter she was writin as he entered, and threw her handkerchief care vg over something that lay on the table be- side it. ~ ‘‘ Well, George, you are come at last to con- area me, I suppose?” she said, holding out oth her little hands to him, i me took them and pressed his lips to them gal- antly. “Fie! fie!” she said, playfully. ‘ That can- not be allowed now, you know,’ ‘ ‘¢ And why not?” he said. ‘Dear Olivia, if only a tenth part of what I have heard is true—” ‘“‘Do you mean that my aunt has left me five hundred thousand dollars?” interrupted she. “Yes, or a tenth of that, don’t you see that all obstacle to your marriage is at an end?” he continued. ‘“‘Our marriage? I don’t understand!” began Olivia, putting on a face of baby-like per- sas ‘* Was it not poverty that parted us? Surely you know I only left you because I dared not ask you to give up your small fortune for me, but you know all the while how devotedly I loved you, and you know I love-you still!” Olivia burst into a fit of shrill laughter. “Oh! is it that old, old story you are telling me? George Kingsborough, forgive me for laughing, but you must never mention it again. I am to be married to Henry Astor next month. I thought that was what you had come to congratulate me on!” CHAPTER XII. AT LAST. Ir was a lovely summer morning a year later; the sun had set, and one by one the stars were beginning to shine forth in the deep blue sky. The sea was as calm as glass, and tinged here and there with a lovely pink hue, as it reflected the last dying rays of the sun; and the littlo white waves broke with a playful ripple at Celia Saville’s feet as she sat on the beach of the watering-place where she and her grandfather were staying. She had a book in her hand, but sbe was not reading; her eyes were fixed on the smoke of a steamer—all that could be seen of it at present—and a happy smile played on her ips. ‘‘That must be the Sound steamer; it is late this evening. How glad poor grandfather will be to see Mr. Dumont again! He was so sorry to lose him even for a fortnight, but of course it was right of him to go and see Mrs. Lintoni off for Italy. Grandfather says that besides being his mother’s cousin, she has done him a great service, and I’m sure he must be fond of her, She is the kindest, cleverest person I ever met. How slowly the steamer comes, and yet it has the wind in its favor!” Celia was wrong, however. The steamer was going twelve knots an hour, and very soon it entered the little harbor, hidden from her eyes, however, by the cliff and little town. She took up her book and tried to read, then laid it down again. ““Mr. Dumont will go straight home, I know, to see grandfather, so I can stay here another hour, and let them have their talk out. Per- haps they won’t want me to interrupt them. I sometimes think grandfather cares a great deal more for Geoffry Dumont than he does for me. Heigho!” Steps on the sand behind her made her start, and, turning round, she perceived the object of her thoughts close to her. What! did br not go home first, then?” she cried, a blush of joy spreading over her face as she timidly held out her hand to Geoffry. “T did,” he answered, taking it, and seatin himself beside her; ‘‘but Mr. Grandford tol me you were here, so, after a few words to- gether, I came to look for you.” ‘“And you saw Mrs, Lintoni off?” asked Celia, feeling she must talk, and yet scarcely knowin what to say. ‘She must have been sorry to say good-by to you; it will be a long time before you meet again.” certain of that,” he answered. ‘Why, is she coming back, then?’ asked Celia, in surprise. “She told me she would not be in America again for three years at least.” ' ; “That may be,” replied Ge Maas lied) J eoffty, slowly; — “but I may return to Italy before then.” = ay. ‘Perhaps. But I don’t know; I am not so — * F c% a Ee r EEE 7 Bi iY 4 “ PH ae ioe f ‘ * ae ror. TE Sar] Sea aad Aaah ee Why eh et eh aed ace ‘ane SIS at fae I rt tg 2 ; a te ed. ‘i bak Ps oo ee ye; J pe ee fae or "<
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she looked blankly at Geoffry with large, re- peed eyes. ‘What, you—you are thinking, of leaving us?” she faltered. = ‘ “Sometimes I think of it,” he replied. ‘But not seriously?” she said, in an imploring tone. “Think, what should we—what would grandfather do without you?” nd the tears rushed into her eyes. ext minute, however, she forced them back. “It is very natural that you should wish to return to your own country and friends,” she id, apologetically: ‘‘and I am very selfish to Wish to detain you, but—” “Would you care if left you, Cslia? Would you miss me?” he said, earnestly. Celia started, and trembled at bis tone. She had learned during the past year to love Geoffry With all her heart, and the thought of parting with him was more than she could bear. * Believe me, Celia,” he continued, “if it would grieve you to part from me half a tenth part as much as it would grieve me to go away from you, I would never leave you. With you rests my fate. If you bid me stay, I will do so; but if so, will you consent to share my life with me tas be the wife of Geoffry Dumont, the Ital- Qe “Geoffry Dumont, the Italian!” How dear the name and designation had grown to her now! She raised her eyes shyly to his. ‘ “Tf you are content to take me, plain Celia Saville as 1 am—no longer an heiress, remem- ber!” And she smiled timidly. “YT love you, Celia—it is you only [ want!” €replied. ‘‘ Are you not afraid to trust your- Self to a poor Italian adventurer?” . ‘‘Hush!” she replied, laying her hand on his lips. ‘Rich or poor, American or foreigner, I Ove you, and you only, Geoffry; and if you are Willing to take me, I will be your wife!” “What, even if you should have to live in _ Ttaly some day with me?” he said, (Ven: even then,” she replied, with a smile. net oh! poor grandfather; we must think of m, For balf an hour they sat together, hand in hand, on the beach, till the last faint glimmer _ of sunset died away, and the tide began to rise; then they got up, and turned their steps toward he town. “* What will your grandfather say, darling?” Said Geoffry, as he looked fondly into the beau- tiful face, ““ Will he consent to give you up, do you think?’ “ Poor grandfather! But he loves you, Geof- fry, more than any one on the face of the earth. And do you know I sometimes believe It is because you are so like the portrait of cousin Christopher, his nephew; yes, you are, indeed, though I never noticed the likeness till the day you came down to The Chase with Mrs, Lintoni on some mysterious business, the par- ticulars of which neither she nor grandfather ave ever divulged to me.” “Perhaps he will tell you now, darling, or I will, for there must be an end to all secrets be- tween us,” he replied. They had reached the cottage which Mr. Grandford, in obedience to the commands of 1s medical advisers, had taken at the sea- | Shore for the summer and autumn, and pushing Open the door that led into the garden, Celia und Geoffry entered. They found Mr. Grandford seated in his easy- chair beneath a clump of shady trees. He gave a start and an exclamation of pleasure as they approached, looking eagerly into Geoffry’s face, as if he expected good news. ‘*Well?’—he said; ‘‘ well?” _ ‘You were right; it is all right, sir!” he cried joyfully, putting bis arm round Celia. ‘‘She has : ee ae to become my wife—the wife of Geoffry Damont!” ‘Grandfather, you will not say no, will you?” Said Celia, pleadingly. “Nay, my child; i say yes with all my heart: but yet 1 cannot give you to Geoffry Dumont, the Italian.” “But I love him, grandfather! {[ have Promised to be his. wife; to return to his coun- ' try with bim, if need be,” she cried, clinging to '. Geoffry’s arm. : “And you shall be bis wife, child—the wife of the man beside you. No Italian, however, ™my dear, but your own cousin, my great- _ -‘Rephew, Geoffry Dumont Grandford.” __ And Mr, Grandford held out one band to his _ Rephew, and drew Celia, all perplexed and as- _ tonished, to him with the other. . Don’t you see—can’t you. understand it, ; “little goose?” he went on, playfully. Geottry ht Saas eeiees ano Tea CE aes te ee > ee A San Aee g MRL RE ON CaN mie AE 4) AES, eee yh aes t came over to America to see the house wherein his father was born. On the way he met you, and his foolish heart was set on making you his wife from that day. He wished to win your love without making himself known to either you or me. Circumstances compelled him to discover himself to me; tut he bid the secret from you, little one, and [ think he did well in so doing. Geoffry, look at her. I think you have won what you set your heart on. “‘T owe everything to him,” went on Mr. Grandford, gravely. ‘Do you know, Celia this young man is the rightful possessor of all my property; that you were not, as 1 told you a year ago, an heiress; that be could turn us both out of the house we have so long considered ours if—” “But do not talk of that. To all intents it is yours, uncle; you know that. Never speak of it again in that way,” said Geoffry, while Celia regarded him with eyes of admiration. ** Ay, boy, | know—I know,” said the old man with a sigh. ‘‘Celia, the husband of your choice is a model of chivalrous generosity. I am proud to think that ere long Cedar Grove will have such a worthy possessor,” ‘‘Not for many a year yet will it lose its present one, I trust, sir,” answered Geoftry. And Celia kissed her grandfather silently on the forehead, and the three sat in deep, calm happiness in the quiet moonlight, till the old church clock warned them of the lateness of the hour, and they re-entered the house, Before autumn was over there was a quiet wedding at the pretty little village church, and an bour or two a.ter it was over, Geoffry and Celia Grandford started on their wedding tour. “You must try and not be dull while we are away, dear grandfather,” were Celia’s parting words. ‘‘A fortnight will soon be over, and then we shall be back again to home and you.” ‘““Nay, nay, my dear; a month—a month! You must not hurry! In my day all newly- married folks took a month’s holiday, in order to get tired of one another! You must not think of returning on. my account—I can not hear of that!” he replied. ‘‘Good-by, my children, and Heaven bless you! Cedar Grove shall be ready for you this day month.” And a month later the newly-married couple drove through the green avenues of Cedar Grove, and_up to the door of the old house, where Mr. Grandford was waiting on the steps to receive them. _‘“Who do you think we met in Washington, grandfather?” said Celia, as they talked over their tour together. “My old friend Mrs. Sutherland—or, rather, Mrs. Henry Astor, as she isnow, I thought her much improved; her Sd | is a sensible man, and has done her good. “Hum! he ought to feel thankful to her for having set him on his feet again: he was a comparatively poor man. when he married her, Her five hundred and fifty thousand dollars saved him from ruin.” ‘‘ They seem to get on pretty well together,” said Geoffry; ‘‘ they don’t see too much of each other—they are too fashionable for that; but she is certainly improved by her marriage, and she really is good-hearted. She made her hus- band get a position for her old friend Kings- borough in some Western State, and—” “Hum!” interrupted Mr. Grandford; “it is more than he deserves. Much too good for the mean fortune-hunter!” “Well, we can afford to forgive and forget, can’t we, Celia?’ replied Geoffry. ‘For my part, ’m glad he was only a fortune-hunter— eh, Celia?” “Yes; and that you found him out in time!” she replies, softly. ‘‘I wish him no ill, how- ever!” “Nor I—nor I!” rejoined Mr. Grandford; “but that Olivia Sutherland always was a foolish woman! Any position is far too good fora man of that sort; Mr. Astor should cer- tainly have known better!” But it is doubtful if Olivia ever told him that George Kingsborough was in the opinion of most people only a fortune-hunter, or the clever way in which she balked his attempt on her own fortune, and on that of Mr. Grandford’s supposed heiress. - ‘ } aes a THE END, ; AG Teoh. or will BEADLE AND ADAMS’ STANDARD DIME PUBLICATIONS — Speakers. Each volume contains 100 large pages, printed from clear, open type, comprising the “ collec- tion of Dialogues, ramas and Recitations. 3 The Dime Speakers for the season of 1863 embrace — twenty-four volumes, viz, : ‘ 1. American Speaker. 13, School Speaker. . 2. National Speaker. 14, Tudicrous Speaker, 3. Patriotic Speaker. 15. Komikal Speaker. 4, Comic Speaker. 16. Youth’s Speaker. 5, Elocutionist, 17, Eloquent Speaker. — 6. camer Speaker. 18. Hail Columbia Speak- 7. Standard Speaker. er. : pe 8. Stump Speaker. 19. Serio-Comic Speaker. : 10. Bproad-Kegle Speaker | 21. Fumny Speaker, Soil . Spread- e Speaker . Funny Sp 3 11. Thess Debater. 22, Jolly a me 12. . Dialect r. Exhibition Speaker. 23 c 24. Dime Book of Recitations and Readings, | These books are replete with choice pieces for the _ School-room, the ibition, for Homes, etc. 75 te — 100 Declamations and Recitations in each book, ; , 4 Dialogues. oy The Dime Dialogues, each volume 100 pages, eima- brace thirty books, viz.: rea pee Dialogues No, One, Dialogues No. Sixteen, Dialogues No. Two. Dialogues No, Seventeen. Dialogues No. Three. [Dialogues No, Bighteen. Dialogues No, Four Dialogues No. Nineteen. Dialogues No. Five Dialogues No. Twenty. Dialcgues No. Six. Dialogues No, Twentyrone. ~ Dialogues No, Seven, (Dialogues No. Twenty-two, Dialogues No. Hight. | Dialogues No. Twenty-three, — Dialogues No. Nine. Dialogues No. Twenty-four, Dialogues No, Ten. Dialogues No, Twenty-five. Dialogues No. Eleven. (Dialogues No. Twenty-six. Dialogues No. Twelve. |DialoguesNo, Twent “seven, < Dialogues No. Thirteen. | Dialogues No. Twenty-eight. Dialogues No. Fourteen | Dialogues No, Twenty-nine, Dialogues No. Fifteen, 'Dialogues No, Thirty. Rea 15 to 25 Dialogues and Dramas in each book... | . A Te Dramas and Readings. it oe ’ es | 164 12mo Pages. 20 Cents. For Schools, Pario:s, Entertainments and the Am- __ ateur Stage, gg ieee” Original Minor Dramas, z | Comedy, Farce, D ess Pieces, Humorous Dialogue _ " and Burlesque, by 1.oted writers; and Recitations: and Readings, new :nd standard, of the greatest. ai celebrity and interest. Edited by Prof, A. M. ussell, a t 4 ) Sg Young People’s Series. Pass Brapix’s Dive Hanp-Booxs ror Youne tet i ‘ 3 DIME HAND-BOOKS. cover a wide range of subjects, and are pl & ee adapted to their end. i em ee Ladies’ Letrer-Writer. Book of Games, out) Va Gents’ Letter-Writer. Fortune-Teller. \ aa ee Book of Etiquette. Lovers’ Casket. ae haa Book of Verses. Ball-room Companion, by Book of Dreams, Book of Beauty. Peete A Hand-Books of Games. Handbook ef Summer Sports. a ts Yachting and Rowing. Book of Crequet. Chess Instructor. Riding and Driving, Cricket and Football. Book of Pedestrianism. Guide to Swimmi Handbook of Winter Sports—Skating, ete a 7g Manuals for Housewives. s : a? (i ae 1, Cook Book. ' |4, Family Physician. 2. Recipe Book. ' |5. Dressmaking and Milk. 8. Housekeeper’s Guide. | linery. Hy) ae Lives of Great Scnevledinn I.—George Washington. | _VII.—David Crockett. iT-doke Peal Jones. | VII.—Israel Putnam. = TI.—Mad Anthony Wayne X.--Tecumseh, IV.—Ethan Allen, XI.—Abraham Lincoln,. 12 ere de Lefay- Ae 5 Ge TS? ette. xT. — S. Grant, — VI.—Danie] Boone. ss a Raga Song Books. i ii oh BEADiE’s Dime Sona Boors, Nos. 1 to 838, co: Ne is the only popular collection cf copyright songs. AGioat a (wusic and Words, School Melodist, can ; Beas: Soke Books, Pocket Joke Book. 7 , Pad The phove publications for sale by DL Ab aS, Waa x Pa
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IoD an 0) _» Fashionable Women, . ¥ern Thistles, Bodie Ried eb Klebcyerg' ).. Sehlacke: Biter’ ao e, ‘ \ Hosea Biglow’s Opinions, + How the oney Goes _ Hun-ki-do-ri’s Fourth of July Oration. f qos Mean No, Say No, Jo Bows on Leap Year, Lay of the co | ag °°» Lot Skinner's El ox Matrimony, __ » Nothing to’Do. ' Qld Caudle’s Umbrella, Bes, Paaaie Your Own © 6 our Own Uanoe, ‘Parody, on “ Araby’s _ “Daughter,” pea SL cs Dime Héamosbus Speaker, No. 8. The Ager, The Cockney, The Codfish, Fate of Sergeant Thin, The Features’ Quarrel, Hamerican Voodchuck, The Harp of a Thousand Strings, The Last of the Sarpints, The March to Moscow, The Mysterious Guest, The Secret, The Shoemaker, The Useful Doctor, The Waterfa: To the Bachelors’ Union nited St United States Presidents, Vagaries of Popping the Queatibn, What I Wouldn't Be, Yankee Doodle Aladin, ee Moskeetare, - i hy ; se Dime Standard Speaker, No. 7. Bei. te The World We Live In, =e oman’s Cl Jobn B Gettysburg, No Sect in eae ‘Miss Prude’s Tea-Party, The Power of an Idea, The Beneficence of the Suffrage, Dream of the Revelers, How Laid the Cable The Prettiest Hand, Paradoxical, Little Jerry, the Miller, | THE DIME The Nec (JUST PUBLISHED, CONTAINING 17 NEW DIALOGUES. al DI kk, - ay Thoughts, Tie Ladies Mac, 6, The Idler, The Unbeliever, The Two Lives, - The True Scholar Judges not Infallible, Fanaticism, remit of eae eiens, culture, rime Ireland, : The People Always Con- Music of Labor, —_ [quer, Prussia and A! Wishing, _crw S268 - ei F alee ‘fet tad | < The Blarney Stone, | The Student of Bo: The Broken Househo. The Bible, The Purse ‘and the Sword Race, The Pin and Needle, The Modern Puritan. Immortality of the Soul, Occupation, ; Heroism and Daring, A Shot at the Decanter. Dime Stump Speaker, No. 8. Hon. J. M. Stubbs’ Views on the Situation, Hans Schwackheimer on Woman’s Suffrage, All for a Nominatio: Old Ocean, Sea, The Sea,the Sea, the open Star Bangled Spanner, Stay Where You cpr Life’s What You Make It, Where’s My Money, S) h from Conscience, an’s Relation to Society The Limits to Happiness, Good-nature a Blessing, sae from Hiaptiste ail-enders, ap The Value of Money, Meteoric Disquisition, Be Sure You are Right, Be of Good Cheer Crabbed Folks, _[Shrew, Taming a Masculine Farmers, [Our Country The True Greatness 0 New England and Union, The Unseen Battlefield, yen. for the Reprallg merica, acy, rs Right of Secession"? a Life’s Sunset, Human Nature, Lawyers, / Wrongs of the Indians, Appeal in behalf of Am. eries of War,[Liberty, A Lay Sermon, A Dream, Astronomical, The Moon, {zens, Duties of American Citi- The Man Temptations of Cities, Broken Resolutions, There is no Death, Races, A Fruitful Discourse, A Frenchman’s Dinner, Unjust National Acqui’n, The Amateur Coachman, ALOGUES No. 29. BEADLE AND ADAMS, 98 WILLIAM STREET, N. Y. General Dime Book Publishers, j SPEAKERS.—Continued. ‘| Liberty of ae re 9 The Cold-water Man, Permauency of Sta peech, John Thompson's Daa'r, |: ouse Pa It Is Not Your Business Dime Juvenile Speaker, No. 9. A Boy’s Philosophy, Hoe ut Your aed Six-Year-Old’s Protest, The Suicidal Cat, A Valediction, ‘| Popping Corn, The Editor, The Same, in rhyme, The Fairy Shoemaker, What Was Learned, Press On, The Horse, The Snake in the Grass, Tale of the Tropics, Bromley’s Speech, : The Same, second extract The Fisher’s Child, Shaks' ian Scholar, A Maiden’s Psalm of Life, A Mixture, Plea for Skates, Playing Ball, Ah, y, Live for Something, Lay of the Hen-Pecked, The Outside Dog, Wolf and Lamb, ' Lion in Love, Frogs Asking for a King, Sick Lion, Country and Town Mice, Man and Woman, Home, The Lotus-Planter, Little Things. A Baby’s Soliloquy, pees ea for Eg; Humbug PasHioniaii, Night After Christmas, Short Legs, imps on Amusements, = How the Raven Became Black. Choice of Hours Poor Richstd's Sayings, Who Killed Tom Raper, Nothing to Do Honesty Best Policy, Heaven, Ho for the Fields, Fashion on ihe Brain, On Shang hais, A Smile, Casabianca. Homooopathio Soup, Nose and Eyes, Malt, [Coma, A Hundred Years to The Madman and Little Sermons, ([Razor, Snuffles on Electricity, The Two Cradles, The Ocean Storm, Do Little—Do it Well Little Puss, Base-Ball, [Fever. Prescription for Spring Dime Spread-Eagle Speaker, No. 10, Ben Buster’s Oration, Hans Von Spiegel’s 4th, Josh Billings’s Advice, A Hard-shell Sermon, The Boots, The Squeezer, Noah and the Devil, A Lover’s ae Pe Hifalutin Adol Says Digestion and Paradise, Distinction’s Disadvant- Smith [ages, Gushalina Bendibus, Speaking for the Sheritt g for the Sheriff, Daking a Shweat, Then and Now. Josh Billings's Lecturing, Original Maud Muller, , Good Advice, The Itching Palm, Debater and C L—DEBATING SOCIETY. Its Office and Usefulness, Formation of, Constitution of, By-Laws of, Rules of Government, Local Rules of Order, Local Rules of Debate, Subjects of Discussion. u.—How To DEBATE. Why there are few good Debaters, Prerequisites to Oratori- cal Success, The Logie of Debate, The Rhetoric of Debate, Maxims to Observe, The Preliminary Premise, Order of Argument, Summary. | m.—CHAIRMAN’s GuIDE. Ordinary Mee’ and Asseniblies, ee The Organization, Order of Business and Proceedings, The “ Question.” How it can be Treated, The “Question.”” How to be Considered, Rights to the Floor, hts C , Don’t De Drum-head Sermons, Schnitzerl’s Philosopeda, “Woman's Rights,’ Luke Lather, The Hog, Jack Spratt, New England Tragedy, The Ancient Bachelor, Jacob Whittle’s Speech, Jerks Ae ita boned ad : A Word with Snooks, Sut oe ph ; A Mule Ride, | Josh Billings on Buzzers, Il Trovatore, Kissing in the Street, Scandalous, Mixed, Slight] The Office-seeker, | Old Bachelors, The Nisin N e Niam Ni People Will Tall’ Swackhamer’s Ba: Who Whe ek nd on Music of Labor, nr The American Ensign. n’s Guide No. 11. Preliminary Organization Permanent Ge ieee The Order of Busin = Considering Reports, of Sabsidie Moti a iary Motions, The Due Order “of Con- sidering Questions, Committees, Objects of a Committee, Powers, How Named, When Not to Sit, Rules of Order and Pre- cedure, How to Report, The Committee of the Whole, Miscellaneous, Treatment of Petitio The Decorum of De Hints to a Chairman, IvV.—DEBATES. Debate in full; Which is thé Greatest Benefit to his Country —the Warrior, States man, or Poet? Debates in Brief: L Is the Works of Fiction Condemned? of be ‘ : | r 4
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42 The You: ~— 43 B.. is, and-Lubber. By C. Dunning Clark. : 43 Bronco Biliz, y ning Be 1 Adventures of Buffalo Bill. From Boyhood to Man | . By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. ®& The Ocean Hunters; or, The Chase of the Leviathan. By Captain Mayne Reid. An extra large number. 9 Adventures of Wild Bill, the Pistol Prince. Remarkable career of J. B. Hikok. By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham, The Prairie Ranch; or, The Young Cattle Herders. By Jos, E. Badger, Jr. Texas Jack, the Mustang King. Thrilling Adventures in the Life of J. B. Omohundro, ‘ Texas Jack.” By Col. P. Ingraham. | Cruise of the Flyaway; or, Yankee Boys in Ceylon. Dunning Clark. ving Joe: The History of a Young “ Border Ruffian.” Brief Scenes from the Life of Joseph E. Badger, Jr. By A. H. Post. 8 The Flyaway Afloat; or, Yankee Boys ’Round the World. By C. Dunning Clark. % Bruin Adams, Old Grizzly Adams’ Boy Pard. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 10 The Snow Trail; or, The Boy Hunters of Fur-Land. A Narra- tive of Sport and Life around Lake Winnipeg. By T. C. Harbaugh. 11 Old Grizzly Adams, the Bear Tamer; or, The Monarch of the Mountain. By Dr, Frank Powell. 12 Woods and Waters; or, The Exploits of the Littleton Gua Club. By Capt. Frederick Whittaker. A Rolling Stone: Incidents in the Career on Sea and Land as Boy and Man, of Col. Prentiss Ingraham. By Prof.Wm. R. Eyster. 14 Adrift on the Prairie, and Amateur Hunters on the Buffalo Range. By Oll Coomes. 18 Kit Carson, King of Guides; or, Mountain Paths and Prairie Trails. By Albert W. Aiken. 16 Red River Rovers ; or, Life and Adventures in the Northwest. 1 By C. Dunning Clark. 7 Plaza and Plain; or, Wild Adventures of “ Buckskin Sam,” 1g (Major Sam 8. Hall.) By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. Rifle and Revolver; or, The Littleton Gun Club on the » Buffalo Range. By Capt. Frederick Whittaker. 20 Wide-Awake George, the Boy Pioneer. By Ed. Willett. The Dashing Dragoon; or, The Story of General George A. Custer, from West Point to the Big Horn. By Capt. F. Whittaker. 21 Deadwood Dick asa Boy ; or, Why Wild Ned Harris, the New | 63 The Adventurous Life of Captain Jack, the Border Boy. ae England Farm-lad, became the Western Prince of the Road. By | 2 Edward L. Wheeler. 2 The Boy Exiles of Siberia. By T. C. Harbaugh. Paul De Lacy, the French Beast Charmer; or, New 24 York Boysin the Jungles. By C. Dunning Clark. The Sword Prince: The Romantic Life of Colonel Monstery, a5 (American Champion-at-arms.) By Captain Fred. Whittaker. Round the Camp Fire ; or, Snow-Bound at “Freeze-out Camp.” A Tale of Roving Joe and his Hunter Pards. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr. Snow-Shoe Toms; or, New York Boys in the Wilderness. A 7 Narrative of Sport and Peril in Maine. By T. C. Harbaugh. Yellow Hair, the Boy Chief of the Pawnees. The Ad- gs venturous Career of Eddie Burgess of Nebraska. By Col. Ingraham. *S The Chase of the Great White Stag and Camp and 29 Canoe. By ©. Dunning Clark. The Fortune-Hunter; or, Roving Joe as Miner, Cow-Boy, 80 Trapper and Hunter. By A. H. Post. Walt Ferguson’s Cruise. A Tale of the Antarctic Sea, By 81 C. Dunning Clark. ae Boy Crusader; or, How a Page and a Fool Saved a King. Be ¥y Captain Frederick Whittaker. White Beaver, the Indian Medicine Chief: or, The Ro- ha and Adventurous Life of Dr. D. Frank Powell, known on the 33 st as “ Fancy Frank,” “Iron Face,” ete. By Col. P. Ingrabam, eepaein, Ralph, the Young Explorer; or, The Centipede 34 Thee the Floes. By C, Dunning Clark. " Pane Bear Hunters. A Story of the Haps and Mishaps B5 a Party of Boys in the Wilds of Michigan. By Morris Redwing. ans Lost Boy Whalers ; or, In the Shadow of the North Pole. 86 Sin T. C, Harbaugh. 82 Ola. rt Sim, the Lad with a Level Head. By Ed. Willett, ott Tar Knuckle and His Boy Chums ; or, The Monsters 88 Th eg oruatoax Border. By Roger Starbuck. ; © Settler’s Son; or, Adventures in Wilderness and Clear- 89 We, Pay Edward §, Ellis. ino tHawk George, and His Daring Deeds ard Adventures 40 The I ilds of the South and West. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. ce Elephant; or, The Castaways of the Lone Coast. By re Captain Frederick Whittaker. By T. Ayeciames * iepnaia or, New York Boys in Buenos Ayres. the Saddle Prince. By Col P. Ingrabam, 44 The Snow Hunters; or, Winter in the Woods, By Barry ee 45 Jack, 46 The Condor Killers; or, Wild Adventures at the Hquator. es 47 The Boy Coral Fishers; or, The Sea-Cavern Scourge. By 51 The Colorado Boys; or, Life on an Indigo Plantation. By 52 Honest Harry; or, The Country Boy Adrift in the City. By | 53 The Boy Detectives; or, The Young Californians in Shanghai, man, RB: ‘ mi ; bs 57 Th2 Menagerie Ilunter; or, Fanny Hobart, the Animal ~ Queen. By Major H. Grenville, ‘‘Sea Gull.” sey 58 Lame Tim, the Mule Boy of the Mines, By Charles Morris. ih, 59 Lud Lionheels, the Young Tiger Fighter. By Roger Starbuck. : Ms 60 The Young Trail Hunters; or, New York Boys inGrimly 61 The Young Mustangers. By C. Dunning Clark. é | 62 The Tiger Hunters; or, The Colorado Boys in Tiger-Land, — 64 The Young Moose-Hunters; or, Trail and Camp-fire in the 65 Black Horse Bill, the Bandit Wrecker; or, Two Brave Boys we 86 Little Dan Rocks; or, The Mountain Kid’s Mission. By 67 "Longshore Lije; or, How a Rough Boy Won His Way. By 68 Flatboat Fred; or, The Voyage of the “Experiment.” By 69 The Deer-Hunters; or, Life in the Ottawa Country. By 70 Kentucky Ben, tbe Long Rifle of the Plains; or, The Boy " 1 The Boy Pilot; or, The Island Wreckers. By Col. Ingrabaw. 72 Young Dick Talbot. By Albert W. Aiken. pee wee 73 Pat Mulloney’s Adventures; or, Silver Tongue, the Dacotah 74 The Desert Rover; or, Stowaway Dick Among the Arabs 75 The Border Gunmaker; or, The Hunted Maiden. s* pb | Nd x "6 The Kit Carson Club; or, Young Hawkeyes in the North- "7 Left-Handed Pete, the Double-Knife. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr. %8 The Boy Prospector ; or, The Scout of the Gold Ravine, B %9 Minonee, the Wood Witch; or, The Squatter’s Secret. By Edwin’ 80 The Boy Cruisers; or, Joe and Jap’s Big Find. Ey Edward Brapir’s Boy’s Lrerary is for sale by all Newsdealers, five per copy, or sent by mail on receipt of six cents each. ; De Forrest. “2 ae Harry and Tom, the Three Champion Brothers; or,@ — Adventures of Three Brave Boys with the Tattooed Pirate. By Captain Frederick Whittaker, 4 By T. C. Harbaugh. Roger Starbuck. By C. | 48 Dick, the Stowaway; or, A Yankee Boy’s Strange Cruise. ‘4 By Chafles Morris, au 49 Tip Tressell, the Floater; or, Fortunes and Misfortunes on Be the Mississippi. By Edward Willett. 50 The Adventurots Life of Nebraska Charlie, (Chas. E. 4 er Burgess.) By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham. r Lf Joseph E. Badger, Jr. 3 Charles Morris. Noe eck By T. C. Harbaugh. 54 California Joe, the Mysterious Plainsman. By Col. Ingraham. i =a 55 Harry Somers, the Sailor-Boy Magician, By 8. W. Pearce.’ ce 56 Nobody’s Boys; or, Life Among the Gipsies. By J.M. Hoff « Land. By T. C. Harbaugh. aoe By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. (John W. Crawford, the Poet Scout.) New Brunswick Woods. By Col. Prentiss Ingrabam, By Wm. H. Manning. “ s to the Rescue. By Roger Starbuck. Morris Redwing. C. Dunning Clark. ‘ Edward Willett. a < ‘ <2 3 Jobn J. Marshall. or atta Trappers of Oregon, By Roger Starbuck, Queen, By C, L. Edwards. By Charles Morris. Boe By James L. Bowen. af 5 west, By T. C. Harbaugh. j Roger Starbuck. Emerson. rae — . a3 A New Issue Every Week. . ea orig ee : {i'r aes Willett. BEADLE AND ADAMS, Pusiasuens,
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¥ 7 ' ; 2 Was te "Lovet or, Hea oh a Gas) - ‘s ‘ hearts. By Wm. Mason llega M, D. os Be nf Me Girt’ ‘Wife, “By seta T. Campbell. Neal Diy rave eart; or, Startling! range. 2) By Arabella Southworth’ stan 5 Bessie Raynor, the Work Girl. 6 The Secret Marriaze, -B e Secre arriage. Sara Cl % y ae. wlohe heal or Eve; on ae fn oo linded by Love. owell, uf 8 Heart to Steet Arabella Southworth. 9 eons in the awine or, The anne gs “ Clifton,” ete. ‘ Adoption, By hens. ee 43 Mm mare rps the Hitule ie Quakerens or, The *O Vv. et’s Woo ee: hman, 4 Why I Caet's Wooing, Bi * ara Rea Ciaeton. 4 air Face ch Out i Tae Ww Worl f he Bartley Canspbel eS e World. By i rus er Not; or, A True Knigh -aret Leloesters snceapeid hes 17 A Loyal Lover, Arabella Southworth 4 ‘18 Wiis idol; or thet 1-Starred Marri B: tlh Mrs. Mary Crowell. ee oe 19 The Broken Betrothal; or, Love'versus Hate. By Mary Grace Halpine. ig 20 Orphan Nell, the ane cae Girl} or, The Heir. By Agile Penne. BSF | Now Aa ey Forever 3 or, Why Did She Mar- v Him? By Henrietta Thack eray. - 22 The Bride of an Actor. By the author _ _of “Alone in the World,”’ “ Clifton,” ete. 238 wane ee Wear; or, Why She Proposed. By Sara 24 Her Pace Was Her Fortune. By Elea- -— nor Blaine. or, Her Untold vorth. a: 30 ’ Agile Penne. 31A Mad q Seen Doel By ar A. han Bre’ 32 Mariana, the Prima Donna 3 or, Roses “and Lilies. By Arabella Southworth. ie ed The Three Sisters. By Alice Fleming. $4 A Marriage of Convenience; or, Was | te _ HeaCount? By Sara Claxton. $65 All Against Her. By Clara Augusta. ‘ 36° Sir Sox guy aired Bride; or, The Qaeen of His os 4 leart. By Arabella Southworth. : ¥ 37 ike Country Cousin. Rose Kennedy. 38 His Own ee att or, Trust Her Not. By Arabella Sout! oF 39 eee tops o, 2 oil Girl’s Good Name, ae By Jac ‘banell, (Ralph Royal.) sore Se ga to Marry. By Sara Claxton. d Devotion. By Alice Fleming. 2 Beatrice, the Beautiful; or, His Second Love, By. Arabella Southworth, es 43 rae e Baronets Secret; or, The Rival Half- - ig Sara Claxton. ¢ a A, Denison. ‘a7 Because e Loved Him; or, How Will It End? By Alice Fleming. 48 In eve of mee? 3 or, Jeannette’s Repa- ration. By S. R. Sherwood. 49 His Hearts Mistress ; oh cove at First 2 Be: . Sight. By Arabella Southwort ee 50 The Cuban ects) or, The Prisoner of sae ‘ La Vintresse. Mary’ A. Denison, 61 Two sane *Linies or, The Bride of an Farl. By Alice Fleming. a on 52 bet 7 Nie ed Messengers or, piakelng All ., fora Mogg Mrs. Mary Reed Crowell. 53 bag fatto td ny re ae Actress, By William va Ba fing ay Tumby Beart; or, Saved from the ae Street. By George 8S, Kaime. 85 She Dia ot Love Him} or, Stooping to Conquer. By Arabella Southworth. Fg Alice Fleming. Ee ep 58 The Be 69 A Widow’s Wiles; or, A Bitter Vengeance. By Mrs, Jennie Davis Burto’ | 63 The Creole Sisters. By Anna E. Porter. i 6 56 fe loca or, Betrothed, Married, Divorced ee and ——. Wm. Mason Turner, M. D. De ata Dy & A Br ve 3; or, The Mysterious bis ‘Guardi une ory Me Mary Reed Crowell. dealers, five cents per copy, or sent by mail on re- ceipt of six cents each. \ BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, Ry re 98 William street, New York. (\ ' , S al