Waverley Library (Quarto Edition) (no. 195) (1883 08 07)
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oe . The Cheapest and Best Library! The Cream of Americdii and Foreign Novels for Five Cents! Xe, BISCUIT TATRA RE a al j ir ee YEAS O iy] HWA Hi i HAN Entered at the Post Office at New York, N. Y., at Second Class Mail Rates. N0195. VoL. VIU. PuBLISHED WEEKLY BY BEADLE AND ADAMS, 98 WILLIAM ST., N. Y. PRICE, 5 CENTS IN THE BALANCE: % 4 sHADowED LOVE. BY ARABELLA SOUTHWORTHEH AUTHOR OF “A DESPERATE VENTURE,” ETC., ETC. SHE STOPPED TO HEAR WH | ion ae ee AT HE HAD TO SAY,
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in the Balance; " OR, A SHADOWED LOVE. BY ARABELLA SOUTHWORTH, AUTHOR OF “ OUTWITTED BY HERSELF,” “Is LOVE A MOCKERY?’ ETC., ETO, \ CHAPTER I. LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT. a Wet, you are hard hit, old fellow. I never in my life before bélieved that you were A made of such impressionable material, You are as plastic as a bit of clay.” ; 4‘ Nonsense—nonsense, Clayton; I’m in no -_* mood for banter. Tell me who she is, and don’t’ keep me in suspense any longer.” “A fairy—a bewitching little fairy, granted; and her name is— But I am not sure I have any right to tell you her name,” ae ‘“Go ony man; unless you wish me to kill you. on the spot. ” Well, itisa pretty name—a marvelously pretty name. It is Muriel Faber.” “Muriell’—and there was a sadness in Philip Lazenby’s voice as he repeated the: name of a young beauty he had seen for the first time on that day, which extended itself - temporarily to gay Joe Clayton, for he stop- 5) ped for a moment in his banter, looking at his friend in some astonishment as he went on, ‘I had a sister called Mutiel once.‘ It is a name in our family that usually brings grief.” These two young men were school and college chums, and now, at the age of twenty-five, had poth begun life for themselves in earnest, Joe Clayton, who always looked on the prac- ‘tical side of every enterprise, intended to bea rich man, he said; and having gone onto Wall street as a stock broker, and being both shrewd and practical was already beginning to turn money around with advantage to himself. Philip Lazenby was much more of a visionary ihe than ‘: tical Joe,” and, at first starting, he Bae? ee a strong tendency toward an artistic bee dite, , at had actually been known to have attempt- eats ed the composition of a tragedy during his ; leisure hours at college, and he was insane enough to hope some day to have it acted. Joe would have none of this idiotic ‘ nonsense, as he’ called it, hermetically sealing his ears whenever Philip attempted to read him a word of it, and signif ing it as his in- ns his friend Philip yshould go in for like’ ei sensible low. ied his boi tie After a good deal : i ' @ of Es tment and counter- rt cument, pained @ large commercial Tio: and Co,, extensive . ‘inp tors — Chee tone United States, ced icked violently against the traces both he gave ip and followed bis paid follow’ it, and that in thing . bade Bed Pak ica and Go. Biagiant teeneant or tot xemmabed d been about six months hese aforesaid gentlemen or Igoe saw, puriel, poeactes ng even ard. st, and the linet twantyefkie hours 1c ooked dazzlingly the sunshine as the pense young’ ‘men, ke; eS hand, started. for the north pond near Ra | wae erowded, “They Ket: va- zn BON. the ice, and both being | >, re 1 eee ieimeagt a pie one “especially a5 a day” Ey any recreation by daylight. £.. young fellow by the name of Danvers eh! shed been their companion all the afternoon, ae ie ye ey . thi y for at least | ear the selves a IN THE BALANCE, He a a triend of Mr. Clayton. Lazenby had never seen him before, mF ae course of conversation discovered that. he lived in Rahway not a quarter of a mile from the pond. When it became too dark to skate; he sug- gested that they should all three adjourn to the large villa ealled the “Evergreen” and join his mother and sisters at their five o’clock tea, which it turned out, being Sunday, was quite a repast, that paphibions meal known as “high tea,” Philip, as a stranger, was 5 introduced to and received by Mrs, Danvers with’ much cor- diality. She was a widow, who idolized her only son, and delighted to do honor to his friends. Opposite to him, when they had all sat down at the table, was a young lady who had come into the room after the others, and to whom he bad not been introduced, Shé was not a Miss Danvers, of that he was yery sure, The two he had already seen were undersized, stout, dark-complexioned © girls, while. this houri (for so he thought her) was, though» rather petite, perfectly well-propor- tioned, with beautiful curling blonde hair and a fair complexion, on which the color came and went with every change of thought and feeling. Her features, though perhaps not regular enough for an artist’s model, were yet full of expression, now arehly piquant, now melting into tenderness that was almost sad. In a word, she was a beauty, and Philip Lazenby’s heart was really on fire for the first time. So much on fire that he could scarcely bear to hear Joe Clayton and the- Danvers family generally talk familiarly in chafling jocularity. She ought to be put on a pedestal and wor- shiped, not addressed as if she were an ordi- nary mortal. No wonder his friend Clayton told him he was hard hit, and threatened to withhold the young lady ag name, The rhapsody with which Philip Lazenby had. talked of her after they bade Danvers good- night and were in the train on their way back to town was enough to make any individual think twice before he decided to give any in- formation on thé subject. . They were walking fast through the New York streets toward their respective homes be- fore the name was actually uttered, © Clayton lived with his family on Twentieth street; Philip Lazenby, whose people resided in the country, in comfortable, quarters not far from the Claytons. After Philip had remarked that Muriel had been a Juckless name to those of his race who had borne it, there was no more said on that or any other subject till they reached the corner. of Twentieth street and Fourth avenue, Bere Clayton stopped and shook his friend’s | hand warmly. “VYowll get ovehee nonsense in a. day or | two, Phil, for T doubt if you'll ever seo Miss Faber again, She-does not live with the Dan- yertes. She is only on a visit to them,” «Not see Miss Faber again!” ‘The very idea was maddening, and ame to him like a sudden stab for which he was in no wise prepared. Imnow where she lives!” Her father isa Colonel Faber. yvather swells, I believe; at least, | always pay Ella, as they., themselves.” - “$0 she is!—so she «is! aie Sigs var" ot to- decline your invitation to- * Well, I must be off! ~ 4 : ‘ \ “Where does she live? Tell “me; 1 sas Jack Faber! ; ‘‘Oh, somewhere in town; out toward Har lem, ” They ¢ are he Danverses her, great court, as if they considered her far superior to And they call her oe bey othe mist Poa! Tam glad—very 6. what. ph. epee Of ¢ den ik ee: thank, you, Joo; I must, night.” It is just 7, 30, and a my people are. most punctual. Not ee) hungry after those muffins and things “Mrs. Danvers.made me eat, te I sup) feasted on. love? Unpappy youth!.I hope youll have “recovered by the morning. ‘a, ta!” Philip Lazenby vouchsafed an answer. which was scarcely gracious, considering the intimacy that existed between these two men; and then, turning on his heel, he went straight to bis rooms on Broadway. These were very snug and comfortable. A bright fire was burning in the sitting-room. He threw himself into an arm-chair beside it, and for awhile remained absorbed in thought. As he: sat there, the flickering flame-light playing about his brow, he presented no unpleas- ing picture. His features were regular—most people would have called them handsome—and’ his countenance, set off by a pair of large black eyes and along beard, was, decidedly a very genial one. Impetuosity: was strongly marked there; but when was not impetuosity akin to nobleness and sincerity? Whether it was the result of Mrs. Danvers’s good cheer, or the love on which Joe Clayton hinted that he had feasted, it was very certain that Philip Lazenby did not seem at ali inclined to go out in search of a dinner, a meal for which he would usually put himself to any in- convenience. So much so that the portress, who had been an old servant in the family, and consequently thought it her duty to look after Master Philip, put her head into the room, and asked if he was ill, and whether she should get him anything, ‘No, thank you, Bridget; only tired, Be- sides, I dined early to-day. I am going pres- ently to have some supper.” The officious old woman’s intrusion inter- ropted the current of his thought, whatever it was; and he got up, shook himself, put on bis great-coat and sauntered out, slamming the door just as a neighboring clock struck nine. Considering the chilliness of the atmosphere, he walked very slowly down toward Union Square and turned into his club, a modest one, in a by-street, which, however, had a good many pleasant ‘fellows on its list of members. In the vestibule, as he passed in, two men were talking rather excitedly. They were both known to Philip, and be rather paused as he passed them to see if they would speak to him. A hot argument in the hall at that time o? Sunday night was somewhat unusual. He was always the most peppery fellow i2 the regiment!” one of them was saying just a Philip came up. “It is of no use minding what a fellow like that says. He forg himself five mi yates after ward. Here’s by; he'll teli you just the same as I do, © know what « “! poken, rampageous sitet a man Faber is, don’t “you, Tateghy «« Paber—Faber?”? - ‘Had he heard ; aright, or was it that ps At. name had been ringing in his ears the evening, and could not free himself t tro “I do no know any man‘of the) f Faber,” he. ie der to recove “ Nonsense, * sith a moment’s paus ae a ee - 4 “good fellow!” ‘kn , he’s here eve’ é' “Then pA Sed Tam not le ery da ‘at least not at the hour he is—for I know him.” “Oh, I forgot you were a ‘and he seldom . ans = worth knowing, se in sf temper, which Black ‘seems to ene e inn th toad i pretties ri CAG meng Ss wat don’t ¢ > about, men’s - ree ‘the Biles, cause e was so very f about his appearance and the cut of his clot i loading his not very large person, hs Ye / ee Ph lia Wee's we oe . ya ;“ 4% uv i.
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- -with an amount of jewelry which was perhaps scarcely i in accordance with perfect. taste, He had the. entree to nearly every good house in Now York, however, his agreeable manners and extreme good-nature outweighing all the prejudice his little absurdities might have ‘Yaised against him. . ‘‘ Where does this Faber live, and what has he been doing. to Black?” asked Philip, when his little stare of wonderment was over. ‘He lives in the upper part of the city. Pll introduce you if you like, They’ve got a ball on the 19th.” “Don’t go, Lazenby. Faber isn’t a gentle- man. He called: me an empty-headed cox- comb!” Lazenby Jaughéd—perhaps he agreed with Colonel Faber; most’ men at the Meanderers’ did, on that subject at all events. The smile on Philip’s face provoked Mr. Black—who was quite as peppery as Colonel Faber—still more, and he vowed so loudly he would have his revenge, that the unusual coin- cidence of a row in the hall of the Meanderers’ Club seemed imminent. |. In fact, it required. the concentrated joint efforts of both Philip Lazenby and the Bijou to soothe Mr. Black’s overflowing wrath. Lazenby was delighted to tender his share of assistance, for had not the meeting with this irascible little coxcomb brought about the very introduction that he wished for at that moment more than anything else in life? Mr. Black somewhat sobered down; he left the club, and Philip followed the Bijou into the dining-room, which at that hour was nearly deserted. The Bijou, like Philip, had been skating out of town, and had not dined; so they both sat down together; and before. the repast they ordered was over, the Bijou had promised to take Philip to the Fabers’ reception the fol- lowing Tuesday afternoon,and introduce him to Mrs. Faber, when, be had no doubt, he would receive an invitation to their ball. | - Philip did not tell the Bijou a word about his meeting with Miss Muriel at the Dan- verses’ tea; but he wondered during ‘the whole evening afterward whether the beauty who had usurped: possession of his heart would have returned home by Tuesday afternoon. CHAPTER II. BOB, . t ade Pract » Sew was running her hand up and down a Magnificent Weber in the large drawing-room in their city home, striking an occasional chord. Evidently she was indulging na dream, and whenever now.and again: something very like a fact’ came forcibly | vol her emg it, sasetfed itself\ina chord. » i Muriel Faber had seen Philip Lazenby more than once since their first meeting at | Rahway ra perhaps it was of wey that, ag was dream- ‘fie shad nity dgcioang his pastion in words; To do so would have been premature and well-nigh impossible, since he hadscarcely )Seen her for five minutes alone; but his large, dark, love-pleading eyes had so plainly told cheir tal, ithat:she would have» had but ‘little womanly instinct had she not understood it. After awhile her meditations; take a more roseate hue, for she leaves off striking chords,’ _ &nd dashes into a brilliant dance melody. »~' It is speedily interrupted, however; by the. entrance of her maid, who carries“a — dress of silver tissue across her arm, -)“T) thought.:‘you would \like: to see ity, Miss - I have» just finished it,and as I knew you were alone, I ventured to bring it in,” > “Oh, Clarkson, it is too lovely! You ate.a , clever: ‘Clarkson, to make mé a dress liko that. I hope people won't. say’ ‘I -want to out-, IN THE- BALANCE. Clarkson was. one of those OE ETN ser- vants who only care to bestow her talents on pretty women, Muriel laughed at the compiiment. She was used to compliments from Clarkson, and did not attach much value to them. Muriel was as really beautiful in, mind as she was in body, and she had nota spark of vanity in her composition, She valued the lovely dress, however, more especially as she knew her delight in it would please her maid, and Muriel’s chief aim in life was.to give pleasure to others. ‘“Even papa will, be delighted. with that frock; and you know how fastidious he is.” Clarkson frowned: Yes, she did know how fastidious’ Colonel Faber was—no ono better. He was no favorite with Clarkson, and if she had been pressed to give an opinion of him, vo doubt she would have indorsed Mr, Black’s. But whatever Colonel Faber’s foibles were— and there is no doubt he was very testy and obstinate—he, to all appearance, dearly loved his daughter, and would have been prepared on an emergency to make any sacrifice to ad- vance her welfare and position in life, 7 We use the terms welfare and position ad- visedly, for Colonel Faber would not consider her happiness. He was one of those men who do not believe in the existence of mental suffering. Muriel, too, was very fond of her father in a sort of a way. She did not, respect bim, No man is.ever respected who gives way to the sudden and almost unprovoked outbursts of temper that Colonel Faber did. But he was her father, and as such Muriel thought it her duty to uphold and love him as far as she could, The being that Muriel did really love was her brother Bob—an individual whom no one ever saw, or even heard of. He and Colonel Faber did not agree—that is, the! young man had never quarreled with his father on any particular subject; but his father disliked him, and sent him to sea when he was a lad of thirteen; since which time, though he was now five-and-twenty. he had never returned to his home to. reside. On the rare occasions when he was on shore he went to live at an uncle’s in the country, who. was a brother of Colonel Faber’s first wife, who was Bob’s mother, but nof Muriel’s. These relations of Bob’s. were; good, kindly, honest. people—a sort of gentile armors; whereas the connections of the second Mrs, Faber were dogindiy aristocratic and high- toned. Both Cclonel Faber’s wives were dead when Muriel was nineteen, and Bob five-and-twenty ; but the last one had always sneered at poor Bob for his want,of polish and. his rough, out- spoken tongue. . Sho. it was. who.had set his father against him in the first instance, partly,, perhaps, because she was jealous of any. linger- ing fondness he might retain for his first’ wife, partly because she did not caro for. the, boy’s vulgar relations, She regretted.it all, however, before. she died, poor proud woman, but then it. was too late to alter matters. Muriel’s opportunities thus. for seeing Bob had;been very few and far, between, rendered, however, the more precious by their. rareness, When Mrs; Faber died Muriel ..was, about ‘sixteen, and the. night, beforo her death she. commended Bob to:the girl’s love.” “Make up to him,” she. 'said,.‘‘as much as possible in what I have failed, and win pele to him his father’s love.” Muriel scarcely wanted. this hice tion, since her owa heart. yearned toward her | brother; yet it/strengthened her determination. never to lose, sight of Bob, and the letters that |. passed: between them were very frequent; but a ee fidants on the subject, By these statements it may oa inferred. ‘that Colonel Faber was somewhat of a Tartar—ay, was he, a very Tartar—without omen an. out ward coating of veneer, It. has been said that the Bijou: jramisol to introduce Philip Lazenby to Mrs. Faber and in truth a Mrs, Faber presided. over the establish- ment; but she was not the colonel’s. wife, but who, from being almost penniless, was glad to accept the somewhat dependent position he offered her as’ bis housekeeper and, ehaperon to Muriel. She was a little, faded, fragile woman, who shook in. her shoes whenever she heard her brother-in-law’s voice, and) was even afraid of Muriel because the girl would do things’ some- times at’ which she knew her father would be displeased; and yet she had not the strength of character to try and prevent her, BMastiol never talked to her about. Bob, ‘ Aunt Fanny is an amiable old, thing,” ale was wont to say to the Dan pareen; “but she counts for nothing.” Without Aunt Fanny, however). ‘Muriel could not have had balls or visits from young men; and Philip Lazenby would probably good deal-—well, a good. deal of both pleasure and pain would have been spared, Philip Lazenby bad called twice, once: with the Bijou, once alone; but-he had not. yet been presented in due form to Colonel Faber.) He had made it his business to know him by sight at the Meanderers’; but Colonel, Faber had no idea of Philip’s very existence, «| For some. reason, probably: an- instinctive one, neither Aunt Fanny nor Muriel had men- tioned the visits of this young man, Pui ‘They neither of them, ever told, ‘Golonel Faber ‘more than they’ were obliged; a dis- agreeable outburst being frequently the result — of mentioning the merest trifle. = |» There was some one in the house who knew about Philip Lazenby’s visits, however, — that some one was Clarkson. 2 She had been sitting at her work by an: ope per window on the previqus afternoon, faite ming the silver dress. Occasionally, though very intent..on bar-oc- cupation, she looked across the | street to: resti her eyes for a second or two on some: other ob- ject. 2 blo Lazenby, who was walking up and down, as though he were waiting for some one....)) “He is .a good-looking young man,” said — Clarkson - to herself. “IT wonder who be is after?’ “) N Tri Wont tf I Just as sho was asking berself the question, the carriage drew up, and Aunt; Fanny and — Muriel came in from a drive: » hyo eo ts Clarkson put down ber work, and go and, attend to the ladies, casting, riage drove slowly away, val an. hi “Herel. If he -isn’t acintliccnmlip sige 7: It is) our, Miss, Ella. that he’s.after,” shemur- mured, as) Philip crossed over,'¢ame up the steps, and, two seconds ein set the bell peal- — ing itt ,FO ROR at KR ad nie had got away. te bis. busin: ess, earlier than usual,. ‘In fact,.since Philip's first, meet- ing with Miss Faber, Messrs: Burli oe a _ Frost’s work had-not been done as-ent: their satisfaction as,before’ that event.’ He-had managed to, find out something of and he was wandering about tomakequresthat the carriage had not hahah peeps noticed him. » sgiot Biwox ir “ Yes, the ladies were at ‘howe? 50 Mr..- Lazenby made his call. serna: 1 Two. days before the pall, ‘Oat should have called again, “geet the widow of one of his,youmger brothers, | have never put his foot’ in the house; anda . Whenever she! did’ so, they fell.on Philip — ‘am up to a lingering look across ‘the. street as. theca the habits! of. the ladies of the .Fabex mausion, fo ‘ 4 Danvers family, who were. Muriel’, only, con- - 9% nt ae rif | Shine every oné’ at my own: ball, to-morrow ‘they ‘wore never spoken of i in. her father's pres- | so, thoughsehes made no re ghoul 90 ® = a . It: would be too horrid. "ald y 3 ‘| enee. - a bata 34 13 aunt.) % foun tak , 3 “You'd do that, whatever dress you: wore,” An coctssionbls anneal: too,| But afterward. i ecb gs vat. sco “organ mistress _ was arranged between ihe brother and sister, | over very frequently. pak aag ic with Biiaiting ener yy chiefly through the ins r of ‘the particular to say... Certainly. cK Ses ; . et > Bate tae : \ ; eR" : N 4 Peo \ ; a ton: >) ete: ; i ; jis 39 ; . aie een fy: Me ny yi.) Nae 9 ee eae = (- ss), «1 Paw ty %, 7 | y\ . om ar — “~ ae
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for the first waltz on the night of the ball; but -surely he had not come on purpose for that? It was very queer, and bis manner was so queer. “Did she like him? She did not know. After the ball she would be better able to an- swer that question. She hoped she should not; and certainly she hoped he did not mean to caré ‘seriously about her, for she was very cer- tain'*her father would not approve, and the ‘difficulties of ber Jife, which were not small already, would ‘be increased tenfold. Sbe wished the’ Bijou had never brought him to the house. BRE _ This was ‘the sort of color Muriel’s. rumina- tions were taking, when Clarkson interrupted them with the silver dress, The praise Muriel was bestowing on this perfect garment was -in its turn interrupted by a loud ring at the vis- itors’ bell. | “Who ean that be at this time of the morn- ing” cried Muriel, as Clarkson hurried away -with the finery she had been exhibiting. Before she ran up-stairs she managed to find time, however; to exclaim quickly, looking’ at Muriel the while, ‘‘ Mr. Lazenby!” It was only a stray shot the astute maid had fired, but it did not miss its mark. _ Mariel grew instantly crimson to the very temples. “Mr. Lazenby? What should he come here for?” she tried to ask indifferently, but the maid could not stop to answer. She was gone; and till the butler showed up the ‘visitor, Muriel was left querying what on earth Clarkson could possibly mean. The mention of Philip’s name, and the look that had accompanied it, annoyed Muriel not a little, and she determined to havea thorough explanation with Clarkson as soon as she was free; 4 Clarkson, however—Philip—every thing con- nected’ with Philip, was put out of her head the next: minute as the glad cry of ‘‘ Bob!” burst from her lips, and her arms were thrown around her brothér’s neck. ‘‘ When did you come, oh, ‘you dear old darling Bob?” “T only arrived in the bay yesterday, and I ‘was so anxious to see your sweet little sisterly _ face; that Ivthought T’'d risk it and come straight off at once. The governor is out, I hear.” ‘“Yessand the aunt, too; so come and sit down, and tell me all about everything, and let us be’as happy as if there were no ‘people in _ the world save ourselves.” _ So saying, she pulled bim down on the sofa beside her, and then began to ask him endless questions. about his ship, and his health, and - his companions, what countries he had visited, _how he liked them, what he saw there, etc., etc. In fact, the whole conversation consisted of questions on Muriel’s part and answers on _ Bob’s—not very wonderful, considering it was _ eighteen months since Muriel had set eyes on ‘ t loved brother. - . You ask so much, you don’t give a fellow a chance of finding out anything about you,” he said, at last. ‘You look pretty, though. But, tell me, any danglers?—going to cheat me _ . out of half my love by getting married, eh?” ‘ “Not thinking of such a thing. Cheat you, But, somehow, Philip Lazenby’s image fitted across Muriei’s vision as she spoke, She _ did not let Bob see it, however, but went on 4 aking rather fast. Bh Yt are going to have a ball to-morrow . might. How I wish with all my heart you could be knees to him, whether papa would let you come, It issuch ashame that you should be a stranger in your own father’s house, just as : if you’d forged, or swindled, or committed _. some horrid crime?" : Bs “I-have; I have committed the crime of having’ low-bred maternal relations. - They are sy “ Of course; ey are better than some of ‘the Fabers, There is a black sheep or two in our fi family, I believe.” there! I wonder, if I went on my | IN THE BALANCE. If it makes @ trip, it always recovers: its foot- ing. It is only among the lower classes that men are compelled to be honest in order that they maybe thought respectable.” ‘And he spoke with a bitterness that he did not often exhibit to Muriel. “ You horrid democrat!” she cried. ‘Who would think the blood of all the Fabers was flowing in your veins? I'll tell you, Bob, what I'll do—” But what she was going to do remained un- told, for she suddenly looked round, and saw her father. He had come into the room by a door at the further end of the back drawing-room, and on the velvet pile carpet his footfall had been unheard. : CHAPTER IIL A POLKA, Murr Fanrr looked quite lovely.in the silver tissue dress. Clarkson was right when she decided that it was the most suitable fabric her young mistress could wear. And as she stood at the door with her aunt, receiving the earlier arrivals among the guests, there was a radiant look on her face far ex- ceeding even its wonted brightness, Of course ‘Pnilip Lazenby wasin good time. ‘He bad gone home from business a whole hour earlier than usual’in order to bestow it on his toilette, though he was not usually a vain man, He was to dine with the Bijou at the club, and they were to go to the ball together. “ Never,” the Bijou said, ‘‘had he been’ so hustled and jostled off. If Lazenby were ‘not cracked about sweet Ella, surely he would not be in such a hurry.” Lazenby did not tell him whether he -was’in love with Ella or not, but by dint of repeat- ing, ‘* Come on, ‘old fellow,” in various tones of voice, he managed to get him to the scene of festivity before the quarter past ten had struck. She received bim most graciously; but sho said, “* I: cannot possibly dance the first: waltz with you, Mr. Lazenby. As the hostess, it is much too early in the evening for me to be- gin dancing. I willso far keep. my promise, however, that the first waltz Ido dance shall be with you.” Philip was a little crestfallen; but, after all, it was only hope deferred; and he took up his position near the door to watch and admire the graceful way in which she received her friends, The only fault he had to find was that she was too kind tothem. Philip would have liked her to be kind to no one but himself. _ In truth, as Joe Clayton had said, he was terribly hard hit, There was a little man standing near Ella; _in fact, he never left her side, and occasionally she looked round on him with a fond, glad look which seemed to make the blood curdle in Philip’s veins. Who was'this man? Could he be an aspir- ant—perhaps a fiance? He asked two or three people standing by with whom he was acquainted, but none of them could tell him who this man was, The room filled very quickly, and after the first two dances on the programme were over, Mrs. Faber and Muriel left their places hy the door, the short, not very prepossessing-looking ‘man still following Muriel like her shadow. “Not a waltz, Bob; I can’t dance a waltz. I have promised the first I dance to Mr. Lazenby,” 7 “ But this is a polka.” Y “ A polka! All right;*comealong. Fancy papa letting you come to this ball, and my dancing with you, you dear old boy!” And Muriel and Bob dashed into the vortex of dancers right joyously, talking and laugh- ing as they twirled round and round, not heed- ing in the least a pain-stricken face and a pair of dark, longing eyes that watched their every turn. Be This brother and. sister were too happy to ' ‘ have a thought at that moment for any other being on earth besides themselves. It was the first time they had been together on their own ground, their meetings till that evening having been for the most part clan- destine, and they both began to hope that Colone] Faber was relenting, and that, for the sake of his daughter’s pleading, he intended to look more favorably on his son. Bob. did not tell Ella that i. was solely on her account that he condescended to cross the threshold of his father’s house, or that he never could really forgive him for the slight he had put on his mother’s memory, or the suffer- ance on which he even now admitted him within his doors. He had accepted’ his father’s somewhat grudgingly-given invitation to that evening's entertainment solely on Ella’s account, and he resolved to enjoy it with ber to the utmost. Next day he was to go into the country to spend a week or two with his mother’s rela- tions. The music of the polka ceased, and Bob ana Ella were still standing laughing together when a waltz struck up, ‘ Now it is Mr, Lazenby’s turn,” she said, looking round, Philip had been there not two minutes ago, though she had not remarked him; but now he had. disappeared. As he heard the first strains of one of Strauss’s most inspiriting waltzes, he sauntered slowly down the stairs. ‘She cam dance with that fellow again, Why need I trouble myself about her?’ he murmured to himself as be went in search of his hat and coat. The crowd on the stairs was tolerably dense, He ‘could not. get down very quickly; and meeting sevéral people he knew, be was com- pelled to stop and talk to them, so that by the time he reached the hall the waltzing was over, and the dancers, flocking down to the tea- room .overtook -him while he was uttering platitudes in a very distrait manner to.a cer- tain. old; Mrs. Astor, who was voted by every one a deaf old bore. The Bijou, with ove of the Misses Danvers on his arm, whispered as he passed bim: “Nice mess you’ve got into! Miss Faber has been waiting for you all this waltz. You had better go and make your peace forth- with.” The end of astory Mrs. Astor was relating about how she had caught a fearful cold in her head, and been made quite deaf by not finding her carriage quickly at the theater two nights before, was Jost on him, t “Miss Faber bad been asking for him? Im- possible! She was far too much taken up with that odious little square-set man.” | He couldn’t say this to the Bijou, however, for he had gone on; so he paused for a mo- ment. “No; he would not be made a fool of. He would go and get his hat.” He looked up the staircase as he turned ta goto the end of the passage where the coats were. Bob, with the other Miss Danvers, was coming down. They were both laughing merrily. : ‘Every one could be happy except him, He would change his mind again; he would not go away. He would go up-stairs and dance; but he would not take the slightest notice of Miss Faber. It was well for him that he had ascertained that she was a flirt, and not to be relied on.” He pounced on the first pretty-looking girl he saw and was acquainted with, invited her to dance, and went up-stairs with her on his arm. Of course he met Miss Faber on the first landing. ' She looked at him in some surprise; but he did not attempt to apologize. . He considered that she had thrown him over by dancing the first dance with another; and she was as angry as a modest girl could be at — 4 y . ' from him, !
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rh) a a ; Before they were well acquainted they bad , Quarreled and misunderstood each other, It did not promise well for the future; that. is, if, in the future, they ever intended to speak again. Muriel looked very thoughtful. for a second or two; then she went up-stairs to her own room and sat down to recover herself, if possi- ble, away from the dizzy throng. Her enjoyment for that evening seemed thoroughly marred. “For a stranger, too, a mere acquaintance whom I have known barely a week! I must be simply a fool to allow anything, he either Says or does to influence my spirits,” she ex- Claimed at last, starting up. ‘I will go down at once and enjoy myself to the utmost. With my darling old. Bob in. the house fancy ever thinking about this Mr. Lazenby!” And giving her hair a twitch as she - passed the glass and the skirt of her dress the slightest Pretense at rearrangement, she went down- stairs just as Bob was coming rushing headlong to know; ‘Where she was, or if she was ill, or any- thing?” They went into the ball-room together, pass- ing Philip Lazenby without taking any notice Of him. How could Muriel know that his heart was thudding against his breast with mad jealousy and that he would gladly have strangled Bob On the spot! Muriel was speedily surrounded by clamor- Ous candidates, both of the eligible and ineligi- dle, order, for a dance, and to all appearance évery shade of annoyance had disappeared from er fair brow, And the evening swept quickly on. till , Supper was over, and the rooms. began some- "what to thin, he was. standing in the bay-window of a little room, which opened out of the drawing- TOom, It was filled with flowers and lighted only With colored lamps. Mauriel’s . silver. dress Shone like a gleam of. light in the semi- darkness, She had been dancing with young Danvers, @nd he was her companion now, Mr, Lazenby came to the door with, Miss anyers. When he saw Muriel. he became White as death, and, would have turned, to go away, but Miss Danvers held him captive. “lt.is only Ella and Frank, They have no Secrets, Iam sure. Haye you, Ella?” There was a slight restraint.in her manner When she recognized Mr. Lazenby, but she an- Swered, genially: M3 No, dearest—none! . In fact, we are never Zoing to have any secrets again now Bob’s ome back,” “ Wasn't I. glad to see him bere to-night! How did you manage it?” “Oh, papa happened to come in yesterday dust. as Bob, having got-leave from his ship, ad ventured into. the house for half an hour. 9 my surprise he was quite amiable to bim; Said, in a pompous way he has. sometimes: y son, I am glad to see you safe back in Your own land;’ and. finally invited him to “ome to-night.” ‘‘ Bravissimo!—and Bob accepted. So geod of him to forget old grudges in such a friendly tshion a Yes; but I really don’t; believe he cares Out papa; he says be should not have come Save to please his little sister.” ‘ uring this conversation between the two Sie Lazenby and Frank Danvers had been beets together; that is, Frank Danvers had < n doing the talking and.Philip had been Taining every nerve to hear as much as he ®ould of this conversation about Bob. Balen brother! Good Heaven! How be had in ned her! What must she think of him! hea , lost vena jeob -of ground be ever made with her, mae should he do? Danvers would only go away gages ow himself at her feet and im- | ‘ee Pardon!) i F Tank bigs — his wish ito Be ap oo te Were WwW oe (ie bn x nate : ‘ + oe _. ei . Po ‘Pus . $ as? IN THE BALANCE, knowing of its existence, for, turning to the two girls, he said: “If you and Bee are going to gossip, Miss Faber, I must be off, as 1 am engaged for this dance.”’ i ‘‘ All right, goon. We are coming directly,” his sister answered, And they began to make a move, Miss Dan- vers following closely her brother, out of the boudoir. Now or never was Philip’s chance. “‘ Miss Faber, one word, Lentreat you! Can you ever forgive me? Can Lever forgive my- self?” She looked at him in disdainful silence, but stopped to hear what he had to say. That was a point gained at all events. But, having got thus far, Philip began to hesitate, The explanation was not an easy one unless it was thorough, and how could he dare tell this girl on such a short acquaintance that he loved her fondly—devotedly, from the very first moment he ever saw her? - Half-measures, however, must not be dealt in, or bis cause was lost. ‘I thought—I believed—that is, I feared— but now I know—he is your brother.” It was a very incoherent statement, but Muriel understcod it at once, and understand- ing it, burst out laughing, Perhaps it was just a little bit of comfort to feel that this man was jealous. Because she lavghed, Philip concluded she was not angry, so recovered some of his self- possession, ‘From the day I saw you at Rahway you have ever been present in my thoughts, Your beauty. has— Oh, Miss Faber, if you only knew what I am suffering.” ‘*T am sorry—very sorry!” answered Muriel, in her turn growing surprised; ‘‘ but I do not know what you want me to do,” ‘*Give me some little consolation—one word of hope, that in the future, perhaps, I may be allowed a nook in your heart.’ “T have not known you many days, and yet—” “Yet you do not exactly hate me? Oh, say. that you do not, sweet, lovely, gentle Ella!” She evidently was not displeased by this out- burst, since her eye twinkled with a sort of pleased expression that did not indicate exactly love, nor altogether-amusement. “T don’t hate you; certainly,” she said; ‘ but I have not known you long enough. to be quite prepared to—to—care about you.” ‘ ‘But you will forgive me for my seeming discourtesy to-night? You willascribe it toits true cause, love unbounded, uncontrollable love for you?” ‘* I will forgive you—yes. But at the same time don’t be offended if I say that I think you just a little mad.” And she really did laugh as che held outher hand to him. ‘‘ Come, Mr. Lazenby, let us join the dancers, or ob- servations will be made over our delay.” “One moment, Give me some promise— some hope to carry with me into the future. You will think of owr conversation to-night, and give me a meeting, will you not?” ‘‘ Think of it?—oh, yes.. And of ‘course we -sball meet here, and at the Danverses’. We are neither of us going to be’ locked up, are we?— unless you are going into a lunatic asylum, you madman. Let us take a turn.” She bad not snubbed him; on. the contrary, she considered she had given him very great encouragement. But he, of course, was not satisfied. Not even when sbe laid her band on his arm and said, ‘This is a lovely waltz; let us take @ turn, and dance away the recollection of that one which oe preferred to pass down- stairs.” Philip Lazenby was a good dancer—few better; and as for Muriel, her sylph-like figure was ie proctel ‘in its every movement. quite bappy for the teomenh ion ‘all earthly oti nen ned stones, it was by the door. . a 1, a biiss must have its limit. \" sry ab bear atthe sit wade a Rie ; bs . AE 8 Oe ye eigen Baas 32 hare pees. ed Se Sar ddan Colonel Faber was leaning against if, a frown puckering up his brow. 2 “ Who is your partner, Hila?” he asked, loud enough for the young man to hear. ‘““Mr, Lazenby, papa. Let me introduce him?” The two men bowed, but the older one did not look gracious. ‘¢ Lazenby |—Lazenby! Philip Lazenby, formerly of The Ridge Bank?” ‘Yes: I am his second son.” And Philip looked delighted at the idea that Colonel Faber knew his father. His next remark, however, damped the young man’s ardor. Are you a sci of ‘‘Spendthrift your father was always, I ~ knew bim well as a youngster. How he bas managed to keep out of bankruptcy as long as ~ he did, I can’t conceive.” fp My father seldom confides his private ar- rangements to me,” answered Philip with some stiffness, “Ob, yes, by the by, your mother’ had money. I suppose it was tied up pretty tight, or it would bave all gone too.” If he bad not been Muriel’s father, Philip felt he would bave struck him. ||. Now he understood full. well why Black and others called him a ‘‘ crustaceous:old ee nguaete eon.” He controlled himself, however, and. ‘oly said, again speaking very coldly, tales ecnars is dead. 4 But Muriel came to the rescue. ‘Papa, you are spoiling all our fiudtens and you know I love dancing. You must go into old reminiscences with Mr, a some other time.” And she danced Philip off. ont of intevter, ence’s way. rie “SraBeore | * When, after a turn or two, they stopped, she said, ‘‘ Papa is a little short. in bis manner, sometimes, but you must not mind him. ion, will like him when you know him better... however, I think you had better leave me.” ‘Yes, yes; I understand. Perhaps: it were wiser; but when shali I see you again?” ‘‘Oh, soon — very. soon, On. Sunday, per haps, at Rahway. I often go there on Sun- day, and 1 am ‘sure to go next Sunday with Bob. He was going down into a attr morrow, but he has put: it off.” [vii Was this an assignation? Muriel scarcely intended it for siatio but Philip instantly rushed off across the’ room to chat excitedly with Frank Danvers,. 1 him with almost as much precipitation to ask one of his sisters to dance, Y hav If he thought these young geople: did not see through his maneuvers he was quite mis- taken; for as soon as the broth were together the former whispered:.). 408 ‘ Awfully gone about Ella, ien’bhet «Do haan think she reciprocates?”? © , “ Not sure,” was Bee Denworwe, isn’t quite herself to. “night I nadia! like doin, don’t you, Frank?” ody. ‘IT don’t know. He ockee crazy. ‘emust-aske Joe Clayton about him, It will never do to— have him at Rahway when emery ees IO he is all on the square.” “ No; of course not.” And these two young people ra pr sehale over the love-making which, in their wisdom they thought they had discovered, as if the knowledge of it had added twenty neha 4 y ‘their lives. ‘ i Pear ok Bein ae Se see | evewie Iris a fair spring day, The <\Sivergeonsay® where the Danverses live, is basking in the early sunsbine, and the flowers whieh for months GOOD BY, past have been hiding themselves away from — the chill blasts of an unusually. severe Winter are showing their graceful: beads: onée more above ground, yi ol ooiieg oft A good many events of interest have occurs — left drear deso- red since they went away and lation behind them; nor with their return have _ "and. sister os Ieee a ee
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- (behaves to his'own son, at léeast-not.to the hearts of all those who dwelt at the Evergreens, " )odfrankiis as cheery and good-tempered as he was on the night of the Fabers’ ball; » Tbe winter does not seemed to haye tried him particularly, yet just now he appears a little-anxious.as he looks out of the window as though expecting some one to arrive. Philip:Lazenby and Joe Clayton! coming up the street now. He will see them in» a minute, as soon as they have passed that knoll of trees. Very down-spirited they both look; some- thing is‘amiss with one if not both of them, ‘*Cheer up, old fellow,” Clayton is saying; “itis very brutal of old Faber to make you go abroad. But there! he is a brute—see-how he Take my word forit, the time will soon pass—quicker than you think; and you'll return with pots of money, to: wed the angel of your love’s young dream.” “Three years at least I shall be absent; it is all very fine to talk of the time passing, but think of three’ years! I told you, Clayton, Mariel i is an unlucky name.” «What staff you do talk! Why you’ may think yourself wonderfully lucky to have got old Faber’s consent at all. - You kuow he had, some grudge against your father, and said you came of a spendtbrift lot.” | Philipsheaved'a deep sigh. 1 This concession of Colonel Faber’s that he should go abroad for three years and joinia They are . Jarge mercantilehouse in Hong Kong, was even*worse than no ‘consent at all,as in the latter event he might. have run away with the fair Ella'the day she was twenty-one. Colonel Faber, however, was wise in his generation; perhaps he atiticipated some such measure, and thought he would wrest a prom- ise from the young man to go to China for three years.. At the end of which time, if they were both of the same mind, they should be married, he said. Probably Co Colonel Faber thought that one or both of them would change in opinion by then, and that’ by this easy process he should rid himself of a marriage that was very distaste- - to him, Philip Lazenby had fallen into the trap.and catia to act according to his wishes; and now, his honor being. mieplvedi; he must "keep his word. vIt was; however, a very, very severe trial; _ how great a trial he scarcely knew till that bright sunshiny April afternoon when‘ be was on his way to Rahway to bid farewell to his beloved Ella. - 0° She had made a. tryst with him there, feeling that she could bear the parting better if, when it was over, she would be surrounded hy the Danverses’ sympathetic faces, than if she had no one néar her but. her poor little washed-out aunt and her father, who she knew would glower.at her‘with eyes which could not fail to mark his disapproval, The Danverses’ had almost persuaded the lov- _ ersto conie and have their last meeting at their home; but now that the day was come, they all felt. so uncomfortable that they regretted they had put themselves in the position to have _ their feelings so tortured.. Both the girls were _. infloods of tears, and even Frank was by no means at: his ease. «The calmest and finde self-possessed person ; use was Muriel herself. Not that she did not feel the parting most acutely, but she was not a girl who ever gave way much to her feelings, The education she had received, always being compelled to hide her feelings - from ber father, was the probable cause of Phiassigel rol * ~ She Jooked: deathly white, and her hands were as eold as marble, when. Frank, from his _ post of observation, announced that Philip Lazenby and Joe Clayton had turned the cor- _ mer, andiwere even then crunching the gravel _ in the garden in front of the villa ae their ra JertsiGgi # a. —— fea & Stemeerd uhiderginadne ay ate, and was at home for the Easter vacation. Tones Bian daeas nip sender pines ash aac of excitement which, go closely d bs ; mop cas dies: IN| THE BALANCE. a BALANCE. | sical mates of the-villa would. rather he had been absent that April day, since, by his observa- tions, he rather succeeded in fanning the flame than} in subduing it. “Come out, Frank,” said Bee, who was the object: of Bob's especial affection—‘‘ come out. Mima will, of course, talk to Mr: Clayton; and if you and’ I are out of the way, those other two will/have a chance.” By which it may be observed that the pair- ings were pretty general at’ the Evergreens, and that it was‘a’nest in which every pretty little bird had her mate, “ All right;-we’ll go and spoon, if you like,” said impudent Frank. ‘‘ You can imagine I am Bob, and give my uninitiated heart a lesson in the art. of love.” “You dreadfully rude boy, you know. so much more about that sort of thing than T do!” **Do I? Oh, Bee, that won’t go down!” And chaffing his sister in a fashion that was most thoroughly fraternal, the two made their escape out of the back door before Lazenby and Clayton cou!d'come in at the front one, As Bee Danvers had. observed to her brother Clayton speedily appropriated Mima, and ‘the two lovers, who were to part so soon, were left alone; for Mrs, Danvers, who detested anything in the shape of a scene, purposcly remained up-stairs in her own room, ‘You will be true to me, Ella; whatever be- falls—promise me that you will be true?” “Do you know, Philip, you almost insuit me by asking me such a question?” And Muriel tried to look dignified. “My darling Ella; don’t be severe on me. I am so wretched at this parting, and I havea presentiment that your constancy will be some- what severely taxed.” ** Nothing—not even the most determined persecution—will make me waver in my faith to you. I hope I may be called on to endure persecution, in order that I may show you how firm I can be. There, sir! And now tell me whether I can depend on you as thoroughly?” “ Ella, death alone will prevent me from coming in three years to claim my wife.” “ And now,” said Muriel, ‘having exchang- ed vows of constancy in approved melodram- atic fashion, let us see if we cannot be just a little bit rational.” ; True woman that she was, Muriel exhibited more courage than she really possessed in order to increase Philip’s. When he had gone, it would be’ time enough for her to give way to tears, she decided, To be rational, however, was the one thing Philip could not be that day. He was as restless as a man in a fever. He wandered about the room, talked at times most despondently; then suddenly chang- ing, became radiantly sanguine; in fact, be- haved altogether so like a madman, that poor Muriel thought that she had indeed accepted a somewhat onerous task when she bad under- taken to love and.obey this uncertain, rhapsod- ical gentleman. She ‘comforted: herself, however, with the belief that when once ‘they were married he would settle down and be more like other people. Even a heartrending lovers’ parting must at last come to an end. Jos Clayton and Mima returned from a walk they had been taking in the town. It was nearly five o'clock; the two men must return to town. The traiu*for San Francisco, whence Philip was to sail, was to leave at eight, and he still had several things to do, At the last, Clayton, who intended to see him safely od board, had several things to do for him, for so overcome was he by parting from Ella, that he was totally incapable of pr ag 3 or caring about anything for him- se i" ‘The farewell was a bitter one, but it was somewhat hurried over by Joe Clayton, who did not see any use in a eee 7p ot misery. } extremes meet, was almost an enjoyment to — Philip, but which, the others suspected, was — nearly killing Muriel. And they were right. No sooner was Philip Lazenby case gone— ~ gone for three’ years—tban all her assumed courage fled, and giving one piteous cry she fell down in a dead faint on the floor. The Danverses did all that kindness and con- sideration could suggest to make poor Muriel’s trial lighter, but to bring back to her her for- mer high spirits was impossible. Even to make her tolérably composed and cheerful during the first few days after Philip’s departure was more than they could accomplish. And-when the period of her visit—just a week—was over, she went back to her home, looking such a feeble representation of her former self, that Clarkson cried out’ in angry tones of regret. She did not know which to blame the most —Mr. Lazenby, for daring to interfere with her young lady’s peace of mind; or Colonel Faber, for sending away the favorite lover. As for the latter all-potent individual, he did not take any notice of the alteration in Muriel. In the arrangement he had made for her fu- ture, perhaps he did not think it_ would be al- together expedient, For a few weeks after Philip left, life went ou much as it used to do before Philip Lazenby ever went there—that is, to all outward ap- pearance; for Muriel strove very hard not to let her relations know how severely she was suffering from this separation, and she was always amiable and ready to enter into what- ever plans were suggested for the day’s occu- — pation or amusement. The only person who really knew anything of the state of Muriel’s feelings were Clarkson. Not that Muriel, by any means, made @ confidant of her; but the maid knew her young mistress, that she could not fail to see the great change in her. Meantime, where was Bob? Away with his ship in the South, and able | only by an occasional sympathetic letter’ to — take any part in his sister’s trouble. It was the end of June. | Philip Lazenby had been gone two months; long enough for any girl to get over a love- affair, so Colonel Faber thought; and as he heard no bewailing and saw no tears, perhaps he thought she had done so, He had not reckoned on the depth of his daughter's affection. ‘*T have invited a few people to dinner for next Thursday,” he announced at breakfast one morning. ‘See the cook on the matter yourself, if you please, Muriel, and see that we have a most recherche little dinner. It is quite time you began to attend to these things.” Muriel looked at her aunt, who had always | been the housekeeper, and wondered what she would think of this order, But the meek, crushed woman only said, gently: “ Quite right, my dear!—my brother-i n-law, is quite right!” That there was some meaning, however, in this innovation, Muriel felt very certain; but, | wonder as she would, she could not make out what it was, so she carried out her father’s — wishes, leaving time to unravel the rest. It did so all too soon for Muriel’s peace. When the Thursday night of the dinner party arrived, she came down, looking pretty and sweet in a new pink frock of Clarkson’s device, | which, though becoming, made her look Fee | than she had done of late. | ‘You look as ‘white as a sheet, child. “We | shall have to buy you a rouge-pot,” Colonel Faber observed so roughly when he ‘went into the drawing-room that the color came into het cheeks without the rouge-pot. = The guests to arrive. eae phen? were known to el, Col ‘eg had never condescended Me oll who ,
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/ , » ' Presenti Mr. Tudor was announced. He Was a man about eight-and-thirty, of decidedly _ Unprepossessing appearance. Muriel had never seen him before, and when he was introduced to her she at. once decided in her own mind that she did not like him. He was not a refined-looking man; and, in Spite of bis apparent wealth might easily have n mistaken for a shoeblack. He took Muriel down to dinner, for another order of Colonel Faber’s was that on that occa- Sion she was to sit at the head of the table—a Position which Mrs. Faber had always filled Since she had been in her brother-in-law’s Louse, If Muriel’s first impression of Mr. Tudor was a disagreeable one, conversation with him | did not serve to improve it; in fact, she found it very difficult. to make any conversation with him at all, Tn intellect he was decidedly below par, and the only amusements in which he indulged be- ing billiards and card-playing, fast horses and Various kindred subjects which had very little’ interest for Muriel. She chatted with him, however, as pleasantly as she could, helping him to a fresh subject whenever he stopped for want of something | new to say. Colonel Faber had argued wisely; in fact, he could not have been a truer prophet had he been told what was going to happen, Mr. Tudor. was thorougbly taken by Muriel’s win- ning ways. “Charming!” he muttered, to himself— “charming! She’s just the wife for me, Helps a fellow so dooced cleverly when he gets hard up foraremark. Old fellow got some money, too, I should think—comein very con- Veniently.” Then, turning to Muriel, he asked out aloud: ‘‘Have you any brothers, Miss Faber?” “Yes; one.” His face fell, but Muriel did not notice, She was too pleased at having so congenial a Subject presented to her as Bob, whose good qualities she loved to dilate on, By the time she had worn it tolerably thread- hare, she perceived that her aunt was blinking at her to make a move and conduct the ladies up-stairs. ‘Miss Faber loves her brother with all her heart, but the colonel won’t leave him a cent; hates’ him, for some reason,” the Bijou, who sat next to Tudor, managed to whisper while the master of the house was moving to the top of the table. The Bijou always liked to retail information. ‘On this occasion it seemed almost as if he had een paid to do so in some way or other. His communicaticn bad the effect of making the other much more gracious to his host than certainly would have been if he had thought the good round sum of money, which every one knew Colonel Faber possessed, was to be left to mae paragon of naval lieutenants, Brother Once more in the drawing-room, Mr, Tudor soon found himself at Muriel’s side; and she was very civil to him, simply for the reason that she was rather sorry for a man who seemed socially to flounder as he did, “Of course he totally misconstrued her miean- ing, and went off under the impression that Muriel was quite in love with him. Not. that She was the only young lady he had succeeded in fascinating—that is, according his own calculation, Their number was legion; but in this instance he was rather at- tracted himself, — By which soliloquy it may be observed that, it poor in intellectual attributes, he was rich in Yanity. His first call in the morning after the dinner att rs’ was on the Bijou. He wished to ‘sub t that. seemingly well-informed little & severe cross examination regarding ber family affairs, ‘ Had he n mself progr _ Colonel Faber cals use? Still, he never men- tioned a name to Mr, ehsieis for the very ae De i Pe aa i coh et Apes be ee, za Sow, the Bijou kn ie tii about Philip Lazen-_ by him into |. IN THE BALANCE. reason that he was a most objectionable little reptile, and wished to curry favor with Colonel Faber by furthering the views which he had communicated to him in regard to Muriel and Mr. Tudor. © Everything that the Bijou said had the ef- fect of making Mr. Tudor more and more anx- ious to marry Miss Faber, and of taking home a mistress to Tudor Hall, a fine old place up the Hudson. The restilt of the conversation, then, was that he wrote, assisted by Bijou, for his own dicta- tion was not of the purest, a letter to Colonel Faber, asking permission to try and win his daughter’ s hand and affection. A request which, before twenty-four hours were over, was acknowledged in the most gra- cious manner, Colonel Faber, though thoroughly delighted, made it appear that he wanted time to decide, because he thought it looked better. Having written his answer, he next went into Muriel’s boudoir, where she was engaged in writing a long letter to Philip. She thrust it out of sight when she saw her father, who, however, perceived what she was doing, but took no notice, He put Mr. Tudor’s note before her on the table, “Of course you havetold him that such a thing is quite impossible?” ** Indeed, I did not.” “Why, what do you mean?” “‘Mean?. Well, you see, my child, now Lazenby has gone, there is always a chance that he will never,.come back. ‘You surely do not. mean to lose all your best days waiting while a careless n3 er-do-well like Lazenby tries to make his fortune?” “Tn three years, papa, you said we might marry.” And Muriel’s lips grew as white as her hand- kerchief while she spoke, ‘Lazenby will have no more money in three years than he has now, my dear Muriel. I should not be doing my duty to you as a parent if I allowed you to marry a man without a dollar,” ‘* As long as Philip Lazenby lives, no power, however severely used, will induce me to marry, or give the siightest encouragement to any other man!” , CHAPTER. V. FLIGHT. “On, Bob, Bob! if you were only here, surely no one, not even my father, would dare to treat me thus!” And Muriel’s whole heart went out in that one wild ery for Bob. Philip was far away, already beginning to think of making mouey as a partner in the great house of Burlington, Frost and Co., at Hong Kong, into which he had managed to get by means of the relationsbip of his late mother with Mr, Frost; but even if he bad been in America, he could scarcely have helped Muriel as Bob could bave done in the emergency in which she was then placed. After six months’ persecution upon the sub- ject of Mr. Tudor, during which Muriel had stood very firmly’ to her point, it seemed al- most as though affairs were about to reach a crisis. Tudor, like most weak people, was obstinate in the extreme; and having once taken it into bis head that he wanted to marry Muriel Faber, he was not going to be put off if on ac- count of what he was pleased to call a little “ school-girl ” opposition, If he had only tormented her with his love- tokens and his appeals for affection, she might have suffered it; but he was perpetually talk- ing to Colonel Faber on the subject, begging him to use his influence to urge her into this marriage, And Colonel Faber’s influerice meant that she had received of late tolerably Teh treatment at his hands, In fact, it had come to this, She must either agree to marry Tudor, he bad told her that eeeaeranin or sens & his cichtves and find some r A eer ; Le , A ; ; J bo pe hae ee other home; but not a dollar of his money should she have for her maintenance. No wonder, then, that in such a strait as this she cried aloud for Bob, She was too proud to live on the charity of friends. To whom, then, could she turn but to her brother? He was expected home shortly, but when would he arrive; and having arrived, would he come at once to see her? aor . She knew nothing. hat | i For weeks, by her father’s orders, she had been obliged to give up all communication with the Danvers family, who, Colonel Faber said, encouraged her in her absurd hankering after Philip; and they were still the only means of communication between Muriel and Bob. For thongh Colonel Faber bad invited him to the ball, so whims‘cal and uncertain did they know their father to be, that they: judged it expedient not to change any of their old plans. for corresponding. Since this forced cessation of intercourse be- tween Muriel and the Danverses, she had fe- ceived no tidings of Bob, He probably would be told by them that she was in trouble at Lome; but, away as he wasin distant seas, what could he do to help her, even if he could have heard her wild cry of, * Oh, Bob! if you were only here!” Colonel Faber heard it, however, if Bob did not. He bad but just left his daughter after an unusually stormy interview, when she ut- tered it, and the hearing of it did not particu- larly improve her position in his opinion. “Tf Muriel was so determined to, resist him that she would go to Bob if she could only get the chance—well, she might do her worst. She would leave his roof or marry Mr. Tudor; of that he was quite resolved.” But Muriel was as determined as he was. She would be true to Philip. No power on earth would ever make her marry any one — else! Twenty-four hours to make up her mind; that was all her father had given her. It was thoroughly made up now, only where could =| she go? It was useless to appeal to Aunt Fanny; she was so afraid of Colonel Faber, that she wasa mere cipher. The Danverses, Clarkson—who I always managed to know something” about other people’s affairs—had told her, wees BWAS,~ jx on a pleasure trip. Joe Clayton would help her, for the sakeof his friend Philip. But how could she appeal to | a man? No; she had but one friend in the world, and ms that friend was Clarkson. i She believed she was faithful to her; ia ded, i she always professed to be, so she would “try bie her now. * Muriel had never been one of w0dd git who make a confidante of thei maid, but she — $s . was in the direst extremity; if Clarkson could , not help her, then her cause was indeed lost,’ She did not ring for ber, but ran impulsively | up-stairs into the front room, where Clarkson — sat ab work by the window. 4 She looked so excited and wild, that the Ss maid threw down her work, and looked at her‘ ‘By aghest. fF . “Oh, Clarkson! you must, you wil: wep | i me, will you not? Papa says if I do not con-| sent within twenty-four hours to marry Mr. % Tudor, be will turn me out of bis house, to. oe wherever Iplease! And I cannot marry ae Tudor. You know, Clarkson, I have pledged a my word to Mr. Lazenby.” heel “So it has come to this, has it? Alw : thought that Colonel Faber’s brutality — a es drive you to something at last!” ~ ‘sys ' «Hush, Clarkson! Please do not “alot ae papa. I must do what I think right in ‘ae for myself and Philip, but I would rather not hear anything against papa. I have no doubt he thinks he is acting for the best.” “Well, you are a good, generot young lady!” cried Clarkson, ‘looking at her ‘young mistress in ad tions “an ‘be worse than a heathen if T shana ay to the utmost,” a ; d 4 Y Ee ‘, ’ 4
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\ * Paw - should say; - 8 IN THE BALANCE. “Then, you will—you wili—oh, you dear Old Clarkson! I don’t know what I should do miroens you, Well, tell me what is to be Te the first place, Miss Ella, do you know that Mr. Bob's ship is due on the 17th—that’s next Wednesday ?” “Bob coming home! Thank God! thank God! But how do you know anything about it, Clarkson?” “T thought matters were sure to come toa crisis before long, so last Sunday, when I took my afternoon, I made it my business to find out al, I could. The Danyerses are all away, except Mr. Frank, He’d just come back from the beach, on his way to college. He told me all as be could, I didn’t tell you any of this before, because you didn’t seem as if you wanted to know.” “Not want to know that Bob is coming home? Oh, Clarkson!’ Clarkson, however, was not so superior to her class but that she had that little foible of touchy jealousy with which they are all more or less imbued, She bad not been asked, so she would not speak. Now, however, that Muriel had con- | sulted her, she would serve her to the death. ' “Next Wednesday Mr. Bob comes, and this ' is Friday,” she repeated, as though wishing to , imprint thoroughly the condition of affajrs on Muriel’s mind. “Well, what do you advise me to do? Papa will send me away long before Wednesday un- Jess I consent to marry Mr. Tudor.” “Don’t wait to be sent away, Miss Ella, I'll pack your things and mine, and we’ll leave the house the first thing in the morning.” “Go away?” cried. Muriel, in surprise. “Yes, miss; my sister’s husband’s cousin has got a house down-town that he lets in apartments; we'll go and stop there till Mr, Bob arrives, and if he can’t square mat- _ters up a bit with Colonel Faber—well, he ain’ much good as a naval officer, I should say. ” ‘* What will papa say when he finds I have taken the law so completely into my own | hands?’ _ “Why, that you are his-own daughter, I Look you, miss, don’t do it if you ‘don’t like. It ain’t no advantage to me to press you either way. If you prefer to stop here and be bullied, well, it’s nothing to me.” “ But the, money, Clarkson? It will costa lot of money, and I have only got ten dol- - Jars.” Ten dollars till Wednesday! Lord, the half of it is abundance!” “~~ And Mr. Bob? Isn’t Mr, aN “But then, you see, I may never get any ‘more, if papa remains seriously angry.’ Bob coming home?” ‘The idea of seeing Bob decided Muriel, who _ was half afraid of the bold scheme Clarkson had - suggested. ' “Very well, Clarkson, pack up the things, and we'll go to-morrow morning very early, unless papa tells me in the course of the day '_ that he withdraws Mr. Tudor forever.” But Colonel Faber had no intention of with- drawing Mr. Tudor; on the contrary, that nee called in the afternoon, and though iel declined to see him, still the fact of his being there worried her not a little, Meanwhile, Clarkson made all preparations. She packed up a small but useful amount of — baggage, not forgetting all her young lady’s | poem and she took. the precaution to carry most of the things quietly out of the house after it grew dark, leaying the one trunk which she was compelled to take to be called for by one of ber own relations, and conveyed 1) Ae cousin’s home while the late, dinner was itl Miss Ella would. then be able to : walk out of the house in the morning without io 2 ig the entire day Muriel took but little pi Clarkson, She had so far consented * solagaies, yet the idea of. deevine her tather's bouse in this way filled her gentle, loving heart with dread. In fact, that matters woul be brought to such an extremity she could not altogether be- lieve, the more so as the hours, excepting for the visit of Mr. Tudor, succeeded each other in monotonous routine, and no incident of any kind occurred, Mr, Tudor had, on being refused admission to the house, gone straight to the club, where he felt sure of meeting Colonel Faber, and had laid bis complaint before him couched in very severe terms. He knew Miss Faber was at home, he said, for he saw her at the drawing-room window, Her declining to receive him was; then, a de- cided act of discourtesy. From this further adverse move on Muriel’s part since the conversation he had with her in the morning Colonel Faber of course concluded that she had no intention of being obedient to his wishes; and he went home furiously angry, determined to carry chastisement to the ut- most limits of paternal authority. He could scarcely contain his anger till the servants had left the room; but the door once closed on them, he broke forth in language which made poor little Mrs, Faber look more withered and crumpled than ever, but which only served to render Muriel more resolute and defiant than to one of her gentle nature would have seemed possible. In fact, a scene ensued of which the colonel ought to have been thoroughly ashamed; and perhaps he would bave been so had he not been beside himself with wrath. So furious was he, that Mrs, Faber, fearing real mischief would accrue, was. compelled at last, even agaiust her will, to interfere, and beg the girl to.leaye the room for the sake of dear life. Nothing loth to get away from a tempest so little in accordance with her feelings, Muriel took the earliest opportunity to escape to the door and to rush up:stairs, forgetting, too, that she was leaving Mrs, Faber quite unprotected to receive the full vials of her father’s anger. She was not a brave woman; but few toadies are brave, and that Mrs. Faber was a toady there was little doubt. She managed, however, to weather the storm, and to defend herself and the absent Muriel with an amount of honest determination which even surprised ber- self. Meanwhile, Muriel scarcely took breath till she found Clarkson, who was taking off her bonnet on ber return from her cousin’s, where she had deposited the trunk, ‘No more hesitation,” she cried. ‘I cannot stand these scenes, Clarkson, They will kill me, ” ‘Kill you, my poor darling mistress! I should think they would. Whatever the colo- nel is thinking of I can’t imagine. He must be a perfect barbarian!” This time Muriel did not attempt to check her when she abused the colonel. She only asked in a ycice choked with sobs —for the result of the scene in the dining- room was that she had become quite hysteri- cal—'‘ Haye you prepared anything for our departure?” ‘Everything. Good gracious! I have not wasted a single minute this blessed day. Just come along to bed now, and keep yourself quiet a bit, It’s no use worrying! When the colonel finds you have taken him at his word, and gone away, he’ll only be too glad to give in, so that he may have you back again. Them violent people are always like that. It’s a pity Mr. Lazenby ain't here to marry you straight off, and have done with it.” Muriel did not attempt to answer her; she was so exbausted by what she had gone through, that even the power of utterance failed her, and she allowed herself to be led to her room, undressed, and put to bed by Clark- son as docilely as if she had been a baby. ‘There now, try and go to sleep, and for- get your troubles for ’ a bit, there’s a dearie! ppeait ” said Clarkson, vay was quite devoted to her young mistress, “I'll call you when it 4 is time to get up, and we'll be off and try and enjoy ourselves as well as we can till Mr. Bob comes, Only five days; think of that!” * But Muriel could not sleep. She tossed rest- lessly from side to side, sobbing. Was this to be the last night in the little bed she had slept in since she was a child? If so, it was such a miserable one that she could not altogether bring her mind to regret it, Once she thought she heard her father’s voice, and she trembled. as she lay there; her father, who til] now, though a violent, dis- agreeable man to most péople, had never re- — fused her smallest wish. She was almost thinking of ringing the bell for Clarkson to come and protect her, but the sounds died away, and ‘once more she lay sob- bing in peace. She did not know that Clarkson, suspecting that Colonel Faber would come up ‘“‘to let off a littlé more superfluous steam by bullying her young missis,” as she called it, bad locked the bedroom door outside and put the key in her pocket; and she was right. When he appeared, however, she gave bim such a severe reprimand on his conduct that he went down stairs again rather ashamed of having given his daughter’s maid the opportunity of blaming him for his behavior. Early in the cold January morning, long be- fore it was light, Clarkson unlocked the door and crept into Muriel’s room, “What! wide awake already? Well, get up, there’s a dear heart, and don’t be atraid. Think asit’s all for Mr. Philip’ s sake as you are enduring this blessed martyrdom,” There was just a ray of happiness in the thought, and Muriel saw it as she got up with a sad smile on ber face. In less than an hour she was dressed in the warmest clothes Clarkson could devise, and having swallowed a cup of tea which the thoughtful servant. had prepared, the two fu- gitives went softly down-stairs before any one, even the under-housemaid, was astir, They walked to the corner, and there they took the elevated road down-town; and very soon Muriel, feeling that she had done with her old home forever, was being whisked along at a brisk pace toward her destiny. CHAPTER VI. THE LETTER, Tux little villa at Raiway where the Dan- verses live, though basking in the sunshine of a ‘lovely April day, looks very solemn and still. It is exactly a year since Muriel and Philip bade each other good-by in that very place; and if there was a mournful air about the place then, notwithstanding the smiling aspect of nature all around, it is ten times more ‘mournful now. Yet the sbutters are not closed; the house has inmates. Ay, but they walk about on tiptoe, and speak in’ whispers when they meet; nor are any of the pleasant if rather plain faces of the Danverses to be seen at the door or windows. At the back gate two men are talking in low tones. One is Bob Faber; the other is Joo Clayton, the absent Philip’s trusty friend. That scme dreadful catastrophe bas occurred, their serious faces and low whispers would lead one to believe; and.that it concerns Muriel, the occasional mention of her name reveals, She has not married Mr. Tudor: she is much too loyal and determined for that; but ‘she is up-stairs in the Danvers Villa in so precarious a state that her life is despaired of. “She went to Clarkson’s cousin’s to await the arrival of her brother’s ship; but days grew into weeks before it arrived, yet. st they dwelt on there, no word cokpigis ‘i from Colonel Faber. Perhaps he did not know where’ they ¥ or knowing, thought that time and i ph of the luxuries of life would bring na a daughter to her senses. Mord e mistaken he was! HA Ho Wee own. rar Sa
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4 her, though more nobly directed, to turn back : . | mi ne foot on the path on which she had set out. It was dreary work waiting for Bob, and her finances were getting very low. Still, is never occurred to her for one mo- Ment'to go back to: her father’s house and crave his pardon for offenses which she did not feel she had committed. She must be dependent on Clarkson; and ®ven if she took in plain needlework to eke out &@ modest subsistence she would not return, At last, however, Bob's ship was in. port, and life for Muriel. was somewhat easier, ' though it perplexed good honest Bob not a lit- tle to know what to do with his sister. She could not stop where she was—in fact, he himself would leave the city directly; nor dared he take her to the country relations, though he knew they would give her a hearty Welcome; but he feared to raise his father’s Wrath s!ill more inveterately against her. Unless the Danverses would incur the respon- Sibility and blame of harboring Muriel, he did hot know what he was to do with her. : ‘Of course they would; as long as she liked to stay in their house, it was hers, Why, al- though they were at the Beach, had she not tter go there at once with Clarkson?’ Nothing could be kinder than the letter Mrs. anvers wrote in reply to Bob’s;..and, of Course, the girls would be thoroughly delight- ®d to have their dearest friend with them for & good long time, To Rahway, then, Muriel went, attended by her faithful Clarkson, and right hearty was the Welcome she received. There was not-one member of the: Danvers family who did not side with her against Colonel Faber, and sympathize with her trou- les to the fullest. But cheering though the reception was that jtiends gave Muriel, she did not seem’ to’ -ral- y. For the first: day or two after her arrival, Seemed depressed and out of sorts, her de- Pression settling at last into such positive illness at Mrs, Danvers sent for the family physician, Who at once ordered his patient to bed, and drew a very long face.as he thought over ber _. ©ase, refusing however, to give her’ ailment ’hy actual name till the morrow, when he Would see her again, ti ! "1 His fiat then was that every one bad better ave the house, save those in attendance on ‘Uriel; as she had contracted what was likely © prove rather a bad form of small-pox, - Consternation and dismay prevailed in the mee of the Danverses when’ this was made own, fis Each member of the family bravely said she Would stay and! nurse Muriel; but. at last it Was decided that’ Mrs. Danvers and the two Is were, to take their departure, leaving to kson, who would resign her’ post as nurse “RO one; while Bob, who had been tele- ’phed to, should remain in the house to give’ t necessary help he could. t ob had been in the haunts of sickness too- ten to be afraid now;and as for Clarkson, Pes was impervious to every feeling save tho Se r tg var ‘three weeks Muriel was too seriously ill op JOW aught of what was passing around her, Bob to be aware of where she: was; but to g it was a subject of. much pain. that his. egy 1 bad never once shown any sign of inter- te myive = he.had once so ardently pro- - 10Ve, ; } , A ’ iN, Mrs & week after Muriel had been taken Ts. Faber had driven down from town, Sent for Bob, and made many inquiries, Afra; at the same .time to be terribly hag d lest her brother-in-law should know she ‘been ther : Me) ei si . ) , nt Stopping in a'lane not far from the villa, ; j ~~ ¢She never came again, so Bob imagined that. judged - ; ; ’ x oe p f ye ae ‘ sapeeeey, Owledge that her young mistress was in dan-| it ine ~ 20eF, having found it out, » ane that she should repeat the visit, 8nd daily 22 Was the most constant visitor, _ OMY Were the colloquies he held with Bob IN THE BALANCE, > at the back gate—talks to which Bob looked forward with more pleasure than he even knew himself, since Joe was the only person to whom he could unburden his heavily-charged mind. At last, Muriel was declared out of danger. A little careful nursing for a while, and time and youth would do the rest. : Why, then, do both the young men look so grave as they stand together by the gate, since that very morning what has just been said had been the doctor’s verdict? To live? Yes. And to Bob, who loves his sister dearly, the news is joy; but to ber, will life bring happiness? Are there not instances in which perchance death were the greater boon? They were both thoroughly aware of Philip Lazenby’s impressionable temperament, and the effect that beauty bad upon his senses. Would Muriel be as beautiful after as before this illness? was the question they put each other, and both dreaded to answer. If she was not—and neither of them thought that she would be—might she not perhaps lose Philip’s love; and, losing it, where would be Muriel’s hope of happiness in life? Zz Neither of them dared put this surmise into spoken words; yetdit was strong in both their minds the day they stood together at the back gate after Doctor Jenkins had said that Muriel was to live. Both of them, unknown to the ‘other, wrote letters by that evening post to Philip Lazenby, telling him that his sweet young lover was out of danger, but neither even hinted at the possi- bility of a-chunge in ber appearance. Three weeks more,/and Muriel was convales- cent—so convalescent that she could walk.a little in the garden with the assistance of Bob’s arm, when he was not drawing her about in an invalid chair, which was his favorite. occupa- tion, in turn with Joe Clayton when the latter came to pay his daily visit. All danger of contagion was over, the doctor said, and next week, since Colonel. Faber had shown no sign, Muriel was to)go and pay a visit to! Bob’s uncle in the country, just by way of having a little change till the house should be fumigated and the Danyerses return'to the town, from which they had been banished for so long. Muriel’s face was red’ and scarred. She would never again be the beautiful Muriel Faber, said every one who saw her; but she herself took no heed of! the fact, and never alluded tu it either to her brother or Clarkson, Hither she thought the marks of her late ill- ness would wear out, or she bad too little van- ity to think the matter worth consideration, The evening before she was to set out for Evans Mills the postman brought her a latter. “From papa! You never told me, Bob, whether he sent to inquire after me while I was ill; but of course he did.” ‘Not much of that, Ella; but let us hear what he says now,” answered Bob, a little am- biguously. As soon as she opened the envelope, a check for one hundred dollars fell out of it. ‘*The governor is coming to!’ exclaimed Bob, as he picked it up. He changed his mind, however, when Muriel read the letter, which she did aloud, It was to the effect that, considering the cir- cumstances under which she bad left his house, he could not openly inquire after her condition, yet be had watched the progress of her illness with \interest, and as. he did not wish his daughter to be at any one’s charge, he inclosed a check to pay expenses, At this period of the letter Bob burst out laugbing. He could afford to laugh now Muriel was nearly well. She read on:— “But as he understood from those about her that she was disfigured for life, he hoped she would re- gard her illness as a just.punishment for her treat- ment of his wishes,and return forthwith to her duty.” _ The letter fell from her hand as she read this | sentence, and she became so pale Bob thought) she was going to faint. f ‘ , { ‘ ‘ Z mae eee er ¥ dae eons Goer | iit AROS eR aera ee been 0° ¢] nursing her night and day.’ | He picked it up hastily, and would have torn it to pieces; but, recovering herself ‘with an effort, she snatched it from him. ‘ ‘* Let me finish it; Bob; let me see the whole truth.” 7 “Of course,” it went on, ‘‘but few men would be disposed to marry agirl who was: no lon pretty; but Mr. Tudor was one of those who believed in beauty of character rather than in beauty of form, and was as ready tomake her his wife as he had been before her illness. It only remained for her to come back at once to her home, give her con- sent to this union, and let all disagreeable discus- sions cease.” ESSA 2 “And Philip! What will Philip think of me?” she cried, when she had read the letter to the end. ‘*Philip is an upright, honorable man, and loves you. Ella, do you doubt him?” / ‘**No, Bob, no; but I wonder if he will be very much shocked when he sees me. I did not know I was so dreadfully disfigured!” “You forget my father’s habit of exaggera- tion, especially when it suits his purpose.” ‘*Then you think I will soon look like the old Ella you and Philip used to love?” “I hope so, my darling sister; every day that passes you will improve.” ‘And by the time Philip comes back I shall be all right?” “Yes, dear; unless the account of your ill- ness brings him back at once.” Muriel shook her head. ' “ He can’t come till the end of the timé he promised papa he would wait.” “Tf Philip were never coming back you /would never marry this Tudor?” " **No, certainly not. But what makes .you talk of Philip not coming back?’ Do you know anything about him?” ' “Nothing whatever. I asked’ more from curiosity than anything else. We stick to the programme. your home?” ** Most emphatically not.” bac A g An answer to this effect was written to Colonel Faber, and ‘the subject dismissed from their minds; but, from that evening, Muriel! was changed. CE RT Her spirits of late bad ‘been more like her old self, and each day, as she grew’ stronger, her merry laugh was heard ringing more and more joyful through the now cheerful villa. ~ ’ From the time she received her father’s let- ter she was perpetually looking at herself in i Suppose you do not return to_ rover — the glass, and then turning away witha mourn- ful shake of the head. In the country life, among Bob’s relations, with whom she might have enjoyed herself so much, she took no apparent interest, but when- | ever she could get away from ‘her companions she would sit for hours alone, apparently doing nothing but thinking, | et “TI will release him from ‘his word. He shall be free. If Iam so hideous as m: bie says, and which the glass’ pode rhy should I bind Philip to my lot for life?” CHAPTER VII.” THE JUNIOR PARTNER, © 0° Partie Lazenby is sitting alone in his pr vate room in the range of buildings : to the great firm of Burliigton, Frost at Hong Kong. ewig” The mail has just come in, and a pile of un- opened letters is lying before him. He has run _ his eye over the addresses, and selected one in a well-known handwriting, that of Joe Clayton. _ Its perusal evidently gives him subject for — much thought, for he pushes the others way — as though their contents were wholly uninter-_ esting, while he reads and re-reads Joe Clay- ton’s missive, ' PW 2 ‘** Colonel Faber has not kept his part of the | agreement; why should I keep mine? I sha go home at ones. So he thought to banist me fortwo years to this ies Ao ag hope that he should thus get ‘rid of me -alto- gether? By Jove! but I'll bé even with him. ‘‘ Hullo! what’s this—a postseript! =~ Girls OLit 2 =) Uts 5 ‘larkso. d Be AT EN Bl i Y wi Diy x 4 eee ; ‘xk, cate Ce ht eee es hae a ‘and Co,,
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ar -» He does not say what is the matter with Ast her, Of ‘course it’s worry. “Poor little dar- po Reaper witha heart as true as steel, how ‘it that you are the daughter of this man? Of all the dishonorable, cowardly acts, to send:me out here, and as soon as my back ‘ is turned to set to work and try to make my little girl marry some one else! But never mind; he has freed me from my promise to wait ‘two years, I’ll just square up affairs here a little bit, and see if I can’t catch the steamer on the fifteenth. ‘Messrs. Burlington and Frost will. not be delighted to see me in New York again, but I. must make my story good with them some- how, and now I’m junior partuer, they can’t turn me out, that’s one comfort. . Nesbit, the chief. clerk, knows more about the business than I do; he’ll manage well enough for a few months; but, whether he does or not,.I don’t Rie care; Tm going home, I. won’t have Ella \ bullied to death by that horrid old father. of a hers.” x This was the sort of current,in which Philip Lazenby’s thoughts flowed as he sat. there, with his letters before him, in the sweltering noontide. When he had read Joe Clayton’s letter once more, and thoroughly decided. that he would, start as soon as possible, he began,to open the he other letters very carefully.. They for the "5 most part related to business matters. Really, Nesbit must attend to them; he was in no mood for buying and selling that morn- ing! Ella’s image came between him and every -. vow of figures. that presented itself—sweet, x: graceful, beautiful Ella! i Her illness did not seem to make so much a impression. on him; as the fact that Colonel _ Faber had turned traitor. Of. course, she was. ill. How could she be _ well when she was so tormented? But. the sight of him would soonset matters to rights. ; _ He would telegraph when he got to San Fran- , cisco, and prepare her to receive him. Re Still he went. on opening letters. “ A woman’s writing—Bee Danvers’! Awful- ly good of her to write! ‘ They had all left the “Le house; no one there but Bob and Clarkson.. A 5 most dreadful time, the fear of contagion al- ways making illness more terrible. .However, they must be thankful that the poor patient was really getting better.’ What the very deuce did it mean? Had she a fever, or what? -. Glayton did not give her illness a name; yet ae Bee wrote of contagion. Typhoid feyer, he ' supposed, from being bullied into a low state,” y And so engrossed was he at this period of his - reading by the account of Muriel’s illness, that he did not even attempt to open any more let- Fa bo. SOS but ringing a hand-bell near, sent the } messenger who.answered it for Nesbit, te The old clerk, who bad not left Hong Kong ; for fourteen. years, and looked very like a dried- a p bit of parchment, saw at once that there nH something wrong with Mr. Lazenby. He had become rather accustomed to Philip’s sudden flights of fancy; but he saw there was ing more, the matter, with him, to-day , sor Fe ro vars had bad..news from America, Nes- 2 ae he young lady to whom I am engaged is very seriously ill. I want. you to take over ~ the direction of all the affairs of the house, . I MS star for home at once,”. Bip |, ing home, are you?” answered the clerk, 1 A es at him with a twinkle in his little al M sna Shy “Tt won't do much. good, I sus- Br She'll be dead. or well by the time you Om oe oo, Philip knew that Nesbit was of a cynical turn, and that he had an especial contempt for women, always averring that women invaria- ak ae to answer him directly, but merely et asked, rather pray te “Do you not feel equal -_toundertaking the ace m management of the busi- ee ness arrang: j iw Noliuhi Nesbit smiled. - Chin * he said. a : hee Pes vi SAP ae a ee ee Tl De? Oe eee Sn a Pe Par a Lae set business matters wrong, so he did not} ‘ray of your beauty—one glad smile?” IN THE BALANCE. As well without as with Mr. Philip Lazenby, he might have added; had he not. been a pru- dent man; for Nesbit had no:opinion of Philip as a man of business. “Well, never mind, then. Take all these confounded letters, and make the best you can of them,” cried) the junior partner, shoveling the whole mass of letters, opened and unopened, together, and pushing them toward his clerk: Nesbit'sat down in a corner of his. office, read each letter carefully, made notes from it, docketed it—in fact, subjected it to a regular business inspection. Having finished all the opened letters, he next directed his attention to those which Philip Lazenby had not looked at. “* Private!” he muttered, as he tore open the envelope of one of them, He. read it nevertheless, and determined to destroy it without showing it to Philip. It was from the Bijou—a would-be friendly but utterly false missive—condoling with him on the illness of his lady-love. He did not spare him by giving the disease no name; on the: contrary, wondered whether the ravages it would make on ber beauty would lessen his adoration for her, and make him only too pleased to let her follow her father’s wishes, and marry’ Mr. Tudor. ‘ ' “ Ay, his honor; and what is a man witht A mere worthless’ sham, from which the sooner the earth is cleaved’ bel ter? O55 ‘To? The word Lona brougtt: Philip to hist He sat down and snatched up the pen which Muriel had written this eae) (lish ® 5 : 3 y RE IN ne 8 ad aes: BS Ser-y bee
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' a “ des 7 Ernua:— “Come Pack to me. Your pietged word once Riven tome you cannot retract, and I am, till death, “Your devoted ae bump. if _ He rung the bell, and desired a servant who answered it to take the note at once to Miss Faber, and then again he paced the room, im- Patient this time for her return, When after a few minutes she came back with his note in her hands he received her with extended arms. “Philip, I cannot accept this sacrifice from - You!” she cried. But Philip, having made up his mind, had thoroughly mastered his repugnance at all events for the time, and he told her in the Slowing words of old that there would be no Sacrifice unless he was called upon to part with her, and that having come all the way from China, at the risk of incurring Messrs. Burling- ton and Frost’s heavy displeasure, he did not intend to return there without a wife. What could Muriel do but believe him, es- pecially as she had. not been a witness to the recent struggle? So she agreed to brave her father’s anger, 8nd marry him as soon as Bob could be com- Municeted with and arrangements could be Made, and then she took him into another Toom and introduced him to Bob’s uncle and aunt, good homely people, who received him With a hearty welcome, who rejoiced over the improvement in Muriel, for never had she looked as well since her illness as she did to- Right. Yes; she laughed and talked, and seemed bright and joyous, but Philip could not help a If-sigh of regret as be thought of what uriel was in that dear dead past which could Rever come again. X CHAPTER VIIT. MAN AND WIFE. “T tory you that Muriel is an unlucky name,” Joe Clayton shrugged his shoulders, and by the expression of his face it was obvious that Some discussion the two friends were having _ Was decidedly distasteful to him. They were sitting together in Lazenby’s Tooms, where his faithful friend had been only too delighted to welcome bim back again on return from China. “Unless you mean to make her happy, it is & pity that you didn’t break off the engage- Ment and proclaim yourself a puppy at once!” 0@ says, giving the andirons such a vigorous kick that he sets them jingling. “Make her happy? Of course I intend to Make her happy! What do you mean by tak- ing that sort of tone with me?” “Well, you see, Philip, you are always go- ing on about the disfigurement and the change her, and all that sort of thing; and as a friend to you both I can’t help observing that if you let ber see your feelings on the subject t will make her perfectly miserable, and you ad better at once give up all idea of the mar- e, ” “What nonsense! I am sure I think I act Tay part to perfection, but naturally I can’t a feeling a little disappointed.” Act your part! Then you acknowledge that you are acting a part when you still pre: td to care for her? Oh, Phil, Phil, 1 could Scarcely have believed that things had come fo so terrible a pass! Would it not have been better at once to have told her the truth when ‘he herself offered to let you free?” “You seem to forget, Joe, that, there is such $ th _as bonor in the question?” ; Yo—pardon me—I do not; but this same boon hod oe to you, demarids that as long Pet co both live you must go on acting a lie, essing to love this woman, never by a ip ra reat a ee ear, sweet, angelic . iel _ whi i in trath a she once was,” . letting .her know, that she is: IN THE BALANCE, “Good gracious, Joe! since when have you taken to view life so seriously? When I left for China you were the most flippant of all the ‘don’t cares.’” ‘““Tn my most flippant days I never could have stood by quietly and see a woman wronged.” “Now, look here; we'll havé no more of this, if you please. There is no woman being wronged that I'am aware of. I have come home all the way from China to marry Miss Muriel Faber, and I intend to marry her, and make the best of it. I daresay our married life will be very much like other people’s mar- ried life, if only kind friends will let us alone.” ' Joe Clayton bowed his head, and did not at- tempt to answer. - If Philip was disappointed in the change in Muriel, his disappointment would scarcely be keener than Joe Clayton’s at finding what he considered so little straight- forwardness in the character of the man he had regarded for years as his most intimate friend. If Muriel was altered in outward appear- ance, there was little doubt that the alteration in Philip’s feelings more than equaled it. To think that the radiant, love-dream in which he had reveled, and compelled all his friends, more or less, to participate in, should be so thoroughly dispelled—the rose-tinted glasses through which he had always looked on Muriel’s beauty be exchanged for cold, gray ones, Which made’ her look deformed and hideo is in his sight! ~ He could do nothing, then, but watch mat- ters as they drifted, and trust by an occasional well-timed word of advice, to be able to keep Philip true to the honor about which be made so much ado. In less than a week after the conversation of the two men, the marriage was td take place— quietly, of course, since Colonel Faber’s con- sent was not even to be asked. In fact, he had never been informed that Philip had returned. If he bad found it out, it must bave been from the Bijou, or through some such distorted channel, Bob’s old relations, who had nothing to gain or lose by pleasing or displeasing Colonel Faber, were much pleased that the marriage should take place’ from their house. They probably did not altogether regret being enabled to pay off some of the scores they had against the imperious colonel for the many slights and annoyances he had heaped on them and their beloved nephew, Bob. Besides, they bad taken an especial fancy to Muriel while she had been staying with them; and how could they guess that the desperate love for her, which had once raged so furiously in Philip’s beart, had died suddenly into a mere flicker, when be saw how illness had changed her? Bob was’ to give the bride away, and stert two days afterward for the city, to join his ship. e, too, was perfectly happy in the be- lief that Philip was devoted to Muriel, and that once married she would be at peace, On the morning the Tarriage was to take place quite privately in the village church, with no witnesses save Bob and his old aunt and uncle, a dispatch came from Joe Clayton, saying that he had ascertained that Colonel Faber was quite aw courant of all that was going on, and that he intended to put in an appearance in the church, and forbid the cere- mony. Every one was ina state of bustle and agi- tation except the bridegroom elect. Perhaps he almost hoped that Colonel Faber would ar- rive. At all events, he professed to treat the whole matter as nonsense; said Colonel Faber could do nothing, that he would knock him down if he attempted to interfere, and much more to the same effect, The clergyman was sent to, however, and it was the ceremony was to take place at teri o’clock, which was an hour earlier than was ic rend ‘Wsad; and when mnCees, on ye Bob’s arm, walked am the aisle of the church > at ten o'clock, she looked far more dead than alive. Since her iittvens she: could not bear fright and worry with as.much fortitude as rine done’ before. In ‘the porch Clarkson ‘seated herself, re+ solved to give the enemy battle if he should arrive, and ‘thus delay as long as possible any, intrusion on the wedding-party.: But Colonel: Faber did not appear. The ceremony proceeded calmly and undisturbed, Eleven o'clock, twelve o'clock, one o’clock, and no signs of Colonel Faber. Joe Clayton must have been misinformed, Muriel has changed) ber white garb for a dark plum-colored traveling dress, and she and Philip are about to start together on their wedding journey. The carriage is at the door which is to con- vey them to the station, when a telegraph boy is seen coming up the drive. ‘*For Miss Faber.” Muriel, Miss Faber no longer, snatches it from his hand, and tears it open. ““Lowville station. Accident on the railroad: Colonel Faber seriously hurt. Come at once.” She gives one wild shriek, which startles all those who are standing near her; and then she totters’ against the door-post, as though she were going to faint. But Muriel is one of those women “who are generally equal to an emergency. ' By a violent effort she recovers herself. “T must go—go to bim at once! will accompany me?” For a moment she forgets everything about Philip and his new rights. The father who had loved her, and attended to her every whim all through her childhood, was dying; perhaps! All her own old love for him returned in full force. Bob and Philip looked at each other aghdst. They feared what effect this shock might have on Muriel’s health, shaken as it was by her recent illness. There was nothing for it, however, but to go; resistance would only make her worse. So instead of the projected wedding trip, Muriel, accompanied by her husband and her brother, with the faithful Clarkson in attend- — ance, started for Lowville. Philip, it was decided, should make no ap- pearance before Colonel Faber, but wait in the — background till Muriel had seen him, It was a’ dreary journey of at least two hours, Muriel scarcely spoke, only smiled faintly when Philip or Bob showed her some little affectionate attention. Arrived at Lowville they were informed that Colonel Faber was at the Bingham House, and to the Bingham they revtearsctaines- ie drove, . ‘Was he alive?” was the first question ‘they asked, “Yes, he was alive, but in serious danger.” Muriel insisted on going to him at once; and befcre any one could prevent her,she bad accompanied one of the servants of. ‘the. hotel into a darkened ground-floor room, aes mvc Colonel Faber was lying. © — His head was bound up; but there were 5 wounds on his face which, however, looked Me ghastly white, as saute s he were already — dead. Muriel threw herself upon re Sieietat beside his bed; and took bis hand; but be neither moved nor gave any sign of recognition. = ‘‘He does not know me,” she cried, in a piercing voice which reached Bob, who was standing in the hall, and at once brought. Bim to her side. bufgoa be “What was the injury from which Catone) an Faber was suffering?” =. vat ‘Fractured skull!” some one deh while the two men were-standing outside; but from whom they Had received the bersop sage ae neither of them could tell. ‘z _ Colonel Faber was not dead, shh Atle. wna. ebbing fast away—a fact that impressed, both _ +" Bob, you . .
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Clarkson and Bob as they stood beside’ the weeping Muriel watching him. “Can nothing be done to save him?” she asked, after a while, as she noticed that. they all stood silent and inactive. Bob shook his bead, and there were tears in his eyes. This man had been hard and cold and cruel to him; still he was his father, and give was something very awful in the sudden- ness of this catastrophe. ; i, ‘He will not speak to me again; he will not ell me be forgives me for my disobedience! ‘Oh, Bob, Bob!—what shall I do? What shall I 3 do? eobbed poor Muriel. Bob raised her from her kneeling pelea Py _ “My darling sister, come with moe into an- other room; this scene is trying you fright- aa fully. If I see a chance of one ray of con- if sciousness, I will come for you at once.” ‘And without more ado he beckoned to Philip, who was standing by the open door and put f his wife in his arms; and Muriel was Jaid half- fainting, and only half-conscious herself, on a ; sofa in an adjoining room. he She rallied, however, after a little while, E and they could-not keep her wholly away from ¥ her father. e. _ She would oceasionally go and look at him i as he lay there; but the weary hours of the X long day passed on, and no sign of any change . appeared, '“ He will not live till the morning,” the doc- t tor in attendance told Bob. 4 aa And he was right. » eee ©1In the gray, small hours his spirit passed t me away so quietly that the passage from life to i death seemedscarcely perceptible. They were all standing around him when he died; even Philip Lazenby was there, wonder- ing, as be stood with his arm around Ella, whether the dying man would have been so pas- sive if he knew that they were standing there together man and wife. It was all over, and for the last time Muriel was led out of that sad room and put into bed by faithful Clarkson before she returned to as- sist Bob in tendering the last offices to him who ‘was gone. » - it was arranged that Muriel and ‘Philip should go immediately to her old home, and wait: there, "Bob should bave: the body conveyed to the city, and the will should be opened. ‘Itowas a cheerless coming home, and poor _ Muriel felt it keenly; but every one was good to,her, 11 Mrs, Faber, now she was mistress of her owixactions; overwhelmed her with kindness, p04 ings was quite the devoted Rallip of old \ ys ., osfStill it was very difficult for Marie) to real- |... dze the fact that the father, who had been so Pat Y, good to her all her young life, had left her _ ', forever—left her, too, in wrath. Useless for ‘thosearound her to tell her be bad canceled ‘all ‘his former goodness by his late harsh be- re ‘havior. i, Moriel seemed totally to have forgotten that + he had been harsh. t : Goan it *TWIXT HUSBAND AND WIFE. | ot Soc a psn cas Colonel iron anaes te 63 35 IN THE BALANCE, Philip Lazenby has not taken his young wife abroad. The great house of Burlington, Frost and Company did not think they could place sufficient reliance on a man who would leave bis business to. be managed as best if could, and return to America, at a moment’s notice because he thought his own particular affairs required his immediate attention, If it had not, been for certain money arrange- ments which had been made in his behalf, and which constituted him asort of junior partner, though on.a very small scale, they would prob- ably have cashiered him altogether; 3 Bs it was, they judged iu expedient that he should remain in New York more or less under the eye of the partners, who would thus be able to direct his somewhat erratic movements. Arrangements had been so made that he was to receive a much larger share of the profits when in China than he would do at home, Of money then, under existing circumstances, he had a very modest share, so he took a house in Brooklyn. for which he paid the moderate rental of five hundred a year, and Bob having volunteered to furnish it, he aud Muriel took up their abode, And there she is sitting now, more than a year after her father’s death, She still wears a clinging black robe, and the bright smile has never come back to her face nor the joy-notes to her voice. She is doing some white work, but every now and tien it falls into her lap, and her hands, scarcely less white than her work, lie inactively folded over it, while an occasional tear drops unbidden among the folds. Presently Clarkson comes in—faithful Clark- son! She never makes pretty ball-dresses now; but she is true to her young. mistress, and vows she will never leave her; she anda girl of eighteen are the only domestics in Muriel’s, house. Clarkson is carrying a tiny white bundle in her arms, which: she puts into Muriel’s lap among the work, and asks her to mind it for half an hour while she sees to Mr. Lazenby’s dinner. It is Muriel’s six weeks’ old baby. “My darling—my darling! what have I left on earth but you?’ she murmurs as, Clarkson having taken her departure, she presses the in- fant to her heart and kisses it affectionately till the baby begins to whimper, as though re- belling against such demonstrative love. Then she walked about, for a little while soothing her while she still chatted to herself, ‘No; I was wrong tosay, [, have nothing else, There is Bob-—-good, kind Bob!—who would do everything for me if I would only let him, But be must not know.” And she sat down again and contemplated her baby, while the tears this time fell rapidly. The sound of carriage-wheels stopping at the door, made her, however, start up and wipe the tears from her eyes. She had scarcely succeeded in removing all traces of them when the door was thrown open by Clarkson, and Mrs, Faber was ushered in. If she remarked the tear-stains on Muriel’s face, she said nothing about them; but, throw- ing her arms around the girl’s neck, she kissed her affectionately. Ever since Colonel Faber’s death, bis brother’s widow had shown Muriel much more devotion than she had ever dared, display in_his life- time. “I have come, dear, to ask you to go with me fora drive,” she said, the first greetings being over. ‘*Of course I have not a nice car- riage to offer you, as we had when we went out together in the old days, but in my poor little hired coupe we shall, at all events, get over some ground, and you will get a change and a little fresh air.” Muriel’s first idea was to refuse, but she did 1 not exactly wish ;to. be ungracious to Aunt Fanny; added to which, Clarkson had re- mained in the room with the baby, after ‘ae iug it. froin. its, techs and ani knew = i sort of instinct that the faithful servant would insist on her accepting this proffered drive, i So she made a sort of virtue of necessity, and acceded without making any ado about the matter. ‘Poor Ella!—poor, poor Ella!” ejaculated Aunt Fanny, as the door closed on her when she went up-stairs for her bonnet and outdoor attire. Clarkson did not answer her in words, buf she heaved a deep sigh, and hid her face in the baby’s laces as she bent over it, “When is Mr. Bob expected back?” was Aunt Fanny’s question, somewhat abruptly put, as though she were a little angry at re- ceiving no response to her first remark. ‘Tn about a fortnight,” was the answer. ‘¢T shall be very glad when he comes,” put in the aunt. “Perhaps he will be able to right matters a little.” ‘Mr. Bob won’t do no good,” asserted Clarkson authoritatively. ‘Nobody is no good as ever I saw try to come betwixt husband and wife,” “But surely Mr. Bob will put it before Mr. Lazenby that he is not doing his duty as a mar- ried man to go about in the way he st and leave Ella to pine alone?” Clarkson shook her head. “Tf Mr. Bob’s wise, he won’t interfere. There’s some things as is best not tosse. Mr. Lazenby’s shortcomings is one of them. He ought never to have married Miss Muriel, since he can’t reconcile himself to her disfigure- ment. Mr. Bob can’t bring back her beauty, so he had best leave the whole matter alone,” “Her beauty! Good gracious! You don’t mean that it is because she is disfigured he has ceased to care for her? I thought Mrs. Wes- le tite g “Hush! For mercy’s sake, don’t mention — that woman’s name in this house! Unhappy — as my young mistress is at her husband’s neg- — lect, Ido not think she has the slightest idea that any one has come between them.” Mrs. Faber Jooked aghast at the vehemence ~ with which Clarkson made this statement; but the almost immediate entrance of Muriel pre- vented ber from asking for a further explana- tion, as she would have liked to do. Another five. minutes, and the ladies were whirling along the road toward the Park in the hired conveyance, which was so unlike Colonel Faber’s well-appointed carriage that they neither of them could forego a compari- son as they sat, side by side, looking out of their respective windows in a silence which showed such great intimacy to be positively’ unsociable, After awhile, however, they laid their re- flections on one side, and began to talk, very carefully at first, as though they were both afraid of entering on subjects which either wished to avoid; then, gradually, the ice seemed to give way, and, finally, a thaw set in so rapidly that by the time they reached Fros- pect Park Muriel and Aunt Fanny were chat- ting away about a hundred little nothings with all the volubility of old days. It was as though for a time Muriel bad to- tally forgotten the fact that she was an or- ages a wife and a mother. Ajl on a sudden, however, she stopped in the middle of a gay sentence, and seizing Mrs. Faber by the wrist, sbe held her with so tight a grip that the poor little woman would have cried aloud with pain if sbe had not been 5? startled by the action and its accompaniment —a half-stifled scream—that she had no power left save to look out of the carriage window iD — the same direction toward which Muriel’s — riveted gaze was turned. Philip Lazenby and Mrs. Wesley in a vic toria! It was a lovely spring-like afternoon in “May; the sun was in the eyes of the pair in the vic- toria; besides, they were sitting nnd ee together as though all-engrossed. in each « othe society. Philip did not see his w is M fh would not have known tr 8 ane ? ; ) | y ; . p ‘ \ . . / , . : Ag sha iG: ‘ pe Se 5 he eae een Mis ae is f Per Pe ee Pale ey ee age err ee ay fe cae A.
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Si ee ‘ IN THE BALANCE, 2 413 but “Muriel would never forget her face, n, “She is beautiful—very, very beautiful!” she murmured, as, the victoria having passed, She relaxed her clutch of Aunt Fanny’s wrist, &nd lying back in the corner of the carriage, Closed her eyes, as though longing to shut out the recollection of that vision which had sud- denly swept by her. But, close them as she might, it would be ver, ever there; her husband, her Philip, side by side with that fair, laughing woman, who Seemed utterly careless of the torture her ap- poetion of Philip might bring to another Ay, was she careless, and, to a great extent, Dlamelessly so, since she knew nothing of Philip’s marriage. irs, Wesley was a thoughtless, admiration- loving young widow, round whom the golden Youth loved to flock; the first favorite, at this Moment, being Philip Lazenby. She had been left very well off by the late orge Wesley, who had been an extensive 8 ip-owner and builder, and she did not intend ®gain to put her head into the matrimonial Noose—so she told her intimates; hence she Rever troubled herself to inquire into the ante- °ecents or family surroundings of the men With whom, for the time being, she amused herself by flirting, Philip Lazenby’s card had his club engraved °n it by way of address; and Mrs, Wesley had Not the slightest idea that he had a young wife nd little daughter in a modest house in the Upper part of the city. When she should discover it, if ever she did, ‘thaps even gay Julia Wesley’s opinion of hilip Lazenby might change. la eamtime, he reconciles the homage he is Ying at the widow’s shrine to his conscience With the explanation that, to a man of his artistic temperament, beauty is as essential as hes daily bread, and that he is in no wise injur- tg Muriel by this devotion he is lavishing on Other, If he could have seen her face as she vassed Nin Aunt Fanny’s hired carriage he might, ‘haps, have changed his opinion. woe when, their several drives being over, ®y met at dinner in the humble home, Muriel tutored herself into her usual state of th ®scent endurance, and by no sign did she Rin 9 that she had learnt anything that. day “ could, in the future, bave any influence &r her life. id) ®t even when the repast had been got rap- hi over by Philip, and he pushed his chair + k from the table, saying he had an import- tate iness engagement which would necessi- Diag his going out at once, did Muriel lose her thevtdity, though the image of the siren with the »> Clow hair crossed her mental vision, and ip, ad no belief, as she had once had, in Phil- I business engagements. ha b Was just eight o’clock when he left her; nee ts Ouly bestowed half an hour on the din- 80 carefully prepared by Clarkson. W ; Play to which he was to eseort Mrs. ‘sley began at a quarter to nine, and he bad Alo 8et back into the city to put on evening Went at the club—a practice which he fre- Dossibi followed, in order to lead his wife, if 8% top? inte believing firmly in his statements B business appointments. Up Ut Muriel, who had only suspected him up Cold, to-day, and grieved over his seeming full tess and neglect of herself, had received The “idence, and would be blind no longer. . Gone ng almost against hope, as she bad ~ li hi of lave, was past; henceforth, whatever ma P did, she would always imagine there him,” 8olden-haired, laughing widow actuating mint Muriel was a wise woman; she deter- iny; 1 that whatever befell, she would keep an g erable silence, and appear to know noth- pap’, Wales. nees brought facts so pal- eres before her eyes that she could not help | \ ass DD Philip was civil to her when they met, which was but seldom, and that was all; there were no affectionate caresses, no petits soins. Still Muriel endured patiently; and no one, unless it was Clarkson, who knew her so well, could guess any portion of the torture she was enduring. At last came a telegram from Bob. His ship bad arrived. As soon as he could get leave, which would be in about two days, he would be with her, Would she send for Bee Danvers, so that he might have both his dear ones together, and not be compelled to tear himself from either of them? It was his intention, Muriel knew, when he returned from this voyage, to give up the navy, and settle down with his beloved Bee en the comfortable income which had been left him by his father. All this would have been a delight and joy to Muriel but for her own secret misery, which she was more anxious to hide from Bob than from any one; and, fearful lest the Danverses might find it out, and tell him, she had not been to Rahway for weeks, pleading delicacy of health as her excuse—a. plea which they were the more ready to accept, since, when any of the family went to Brooklyn, Muriel always looked so ill and weary, that they were all firmly under the impression that she was gradually fading out of existence. That Philip was not more anxious about her, perhaps, surprised them, but no one guessed the truth; and Joe Clayton, who knew some- thing of Philip’s sentiments, guarded the knowledge carefully, not even telling, his wife —for Joe had been married about three months before Bob’s expected return. Clayton, however, engrossed. by his business, was totally ignorant of the existence of a Mrs. Wesley, or he would, in all probability, have risked a quarrel with Philip. and have under- taken the handling of the matter somewhat roughly; for honest Joe Clayton was scarcely a man to stand quietly by and witness such an utter wrong as Philip, in his weakness and his thoughtlessness, was perpetrating. This, then, was the state of affairs when Bob dashed unannounced into his sister’s house full twelve hours before the telegram had led her to expect him. Bee, of course, had not arrived, but she had been sent for—would be there to luncheon. It was only ten in the morning when Bob put in an appearance. Philip had left the house about five minutes previously for the office. The home arrangements all looked natural and comfortable, Bob thought. The wee mite in the cradle was a bit of perfection, he sup- posed; only his beloved sister’s appearance did not altogether please him, She seemed delicate and depressed; yet Muriel was in better form that morning than she bad been for weeks, Her spirits had risen at the sight of Bob, and there, was bright color on her cheeks, “Two o'clock, you say, Bee will be here,” Bob said at last, the first grectings ‘and ques- tions and answers being over. ‘Then after you have given me some breakfast, suppose we go out? I have one or two commissions to do, both for myself and a brother officer. You can help me in them, so, if you are agreeable, we'll charter a hack and be off.” Muriel was always ready to do what Bob wished, and without even asking where they were going, she got into the hack that very shortly afterward came up to the door. Shop after shop he drove to, ordering a variety of things, both for himself and for presents, with a recklessness most men display when they return home from a long foreign absence. “Now for Captain Carton’s commission,” he said, producing a tiny packet from his. coat- pocket, ‘‘ He has asked me to take this souve- nir myself, and make the acquaintance of his sister. Wesb ist have time to go over there and To teed tn ae or Bee,” ohichized 15 aan ene iy They crossed the ferry, and drove to a house. on Fifth avenue, and Muriel remained in the carriage while Bob went in with the parcel. She did not pay much attention as to who or what Bob’s friends were, the subject not inter- esting her especially. She was dreaming of Philip, wondering what would happen when Bob discovered how matters stood between them, 4 ‘Come in, Ella; old Mrs. Carton is here, as well as the sister, and they would both like so” very much to make your acquaintance,” and Bob, suiting action to his words, opened the cab door for Ella to get out. i She obeyed, almost mechanically, and fol- lowed him into the well-appointed house. “My sister, Mrs, Philip Lazenby—Mrs. Wesley!” As the two ladies looked at each other, it would have been difficult to say on which coun- tenance was depicted the greater amount of horror-stricken astonishment! CHAPTER X. IN THE OLD HOUSE, ‘“‘Nor only must Philip Lazenby be given ta understand that his attentions are a gross in- sult to me, but he must be brought back to his wife’s allegiance!” And Mrs. Wesley walked rapidly up and down the room as she talked excitedly to her mother, about half an hour after Bob and Muriel bad taken their departure, ‘ Basier said than done,” observed the elder lady, whose belief in humanity generally, and conversion particularly, was of the smallest. “You may close your doors against this man, as, of course, you will if you have any pluck, but I don’t see how you are to make him go back to his wife,” ra “T will, though; at all events, I'll have to try at it! Poor little thing, her brother told me she was very beautiful before she had the small-pox.” .f The mother’s only answer was a grunt. And Mrs. Wesley, taking no notice of it, fel? to musing. She was concocting a plot in ber ‘little not over-clever noddle, and she found the machinery of it no easy matter, me “T won't cut him altogether. Tl talk to ‘him, reason with him,” she muttered, half to herself, ‘‘Surely if 1 have as much influence over him as he is always telling me I have, I can use it for good quite as well as for evil,”. . “Nonsense, Julia!” exclaimed the mother, “You are deceiving yourself! Tl have no more of this man’s philandering here! You'll just have the goodness to shut the door in his face! Your flirting propensities with single men are bad enough, but when it comes to married ones it is time it was stopped!” , ‘‘ Mother, you'll make me very angry if you attempt to interfere with me! Have I not al« ready told you I intend to bring about a thor~ ough reconciliation and understanding between. these two people?” re “ Bah!” : The length of the “ Bah!” and the argu~ ment generally was, however, at this m cut short by a very loud ring at the door-bell, —such a ring as neither visitors nor servants. are in the habit of giving. ; Both the ladies rushed simultaneously to the. window. A horse had run away, and bringing, the. vehicle behind it in collision with a lamp-post,,. just outside Mrs. Wesley’s door, the horse, con-.. veyance, one mass on the pavement, : The door-bell had probably been rung by ; some officious member of the crowd, who: thought that assistance must, sooner or later, . be required. Tal Just as Mrs. Wesley looked out ,of the win- dow, and uttered a little scream, the driver _ managed to disentangle himself from the. let * 4 He shook himself to make sure that none Pk ipatiacmenugen yen yi noe gay efforts one or | m ate 08 adap Reg 9 phone. seein and occupants seemed to be lying in, We ot IG, to. 1
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i¢ in b. 7 * 9 * * + . ~ They cut the traces and other caries of the ess. Up went the shafts, and revealed to the view + of the now amused watchers Philip’ snby in such a position that, though he seemed to be lying back ina thoroughly com- fortable and safe attitude, yet he was power- less to help himself, and was compelled to ra- main in that most ludicrous position till he was literally pulled out of the vehicle by two of the laughing crowd. Before the very house, too, in which Mrs, Wesley lived! It was a hard decree of fate, indeed it was! He little guessed how much harder was the ordeal fate had yet in store for him. He was not hurt, as Mrs. Wesley for a mo- ment had feared; then she need have no mercy. In a moment her mind was made up as to what she would do, Sbe went down the stairs just in time to meet Mr. Lazenby in the hall as he came in. “Call up another carriage for Mr, Lazenby at once,” she said to the butler. Having thus got rid of this listening func- tionary, she turned to Philip. “You had better drive strright to Brook- | lyn,” she ‘went on. “If Mrs, Lazenby hears of your accident she may be alarmed. Besides, she is a better nurse than Im, and you may. . have escaped as_ scot-free as you imagine! ear, dear, it was funny to see you in that cab! —more ridiculous than anything I ever wit- nessed before! Good-by !” _ And without waiting for any answer from him, she ran up the stairs, leaving him mutter- ing to himself: “Wite? Brooklyn? Then she knows all about: wt But the ridicule? Ah, ridicule al- ways kills love!” 6 did not attempt to follow her, but meekly etting into the cab that had been called for bim he drove off; though whether he went to rooklyn or not, Mrs. Wesley had not the gratification of knowing. Two or three days passed, and nothing was heard of him. Mrs. Wesley had begun to think she had repressed him altogether; and ‘f she was to bring about a reconciliation with his wife, this was not exactly what she desired. She was thinking of writing a note, and ask- ing Bob Faber to dinner, when that distin- guished young officer put in a somewhat unex- pected appearance, On the day he called on Mrs. Wesley with ‘his sister, Bob had gathered quite enough from the behavior of the two women to be quite aware that they had some unpleasant’ knowl- f each obker; and also that the individual ) ee in’ some way occasioned this feeling was “Tt was' in vain, however, that he cross-ques- tioned his sister during their drive home. i She would not utter a word againt her hus- band; | ‘and Bee, who was waiting for them when it arrived, could not help him. © She had suspected ull was not right with Mr. _and Mrs. Lazenby; but she did: not. actually ‘know as much as Bob did himself. “Tt was left him, then, to ferret out particulars re: by esi could, and this’ he proceeded to’ do keeping a very keen watch on Lazenby and actions. What he discovered Can, ‘perhaps, best be’ ' told ‘by giving some account of his’ interview a8 ith a. Wesley. azenby is very ill,” was his stadt an- lent as soon as he had ‘shaken hands; and’ le fae Keenly into’ the lady’s face to see ‘what effect these words would” have on her. ~!D am wotty she answered, very coolly, ind: “Your sister, “Mrs. ‘Lazenby — — how ‘is ee “Tn utter despair, in fear lest t he ‘should die: ill you ‘ou come to them?” v bi “Mr. Faber?’ Why should T come?’ _ 966 Because in the sick man’s ravings he asks or you ce seless an aia sz seem to has of ti 8 isi oe pres- ak. YA peal. ap Oe oe ne WERT, 6) ying «'n” het Pee ree | ba 6 abl the Tite! ane St » then | “5 hi A 4 a ee i MS ea ee ae eh IN) THE BALANCE, she said, briskly, “T will get my bonnet at once, and accompany you.” As they drove along, she inquired into thé meaning of her being sent for in this summary fashion, and asked the nature of Philip Lazen- by’s illness. Tt seemed that he had been more shaken by the accident than had at first been supposed, and, added to his shaking, there was a large share of annoyance at the ridicule attending the episode, the two combined bringing on so severe a cerebral attack ‘that his life was in danger. Arrived at the Brooklyn home, Mrs. Wesley found Muriel somewhat impatiently waiting for her, and from the hightened color in her cheeks there was evidently considerable fever mixed with her impatience. She did not love Mrs. Wesley any the better because she had judged it expedient to send for her now. The first sentence however, that the little woman uttered had the effect of reassuring Muriel. ‘*Let us be true to each other,” she said, holding out her hand to her. ‘“If I am here to try and save your husband, it is in a great measure because I am anxious to save you from unhappiness.”’ And’ so, the way being led by Muriel herself, she went into Philip’s sick-room, where Clark- son, who was in attendance, received her with something like an angry scowl. She was, perhaps, the most difficult to con- vince of them all; yet ere long even she was mollified by the tone which Mrs. Wesley took, and it was evident to Clarkson that this stran- ger had not come to bring storm, but peace, into the household. Philip knew Mrs. Wesley at once, though he had not seemed to recognize any of those who had been about him hitherto; but, though he had called for her in his ravings, he turned from her with a sort of shudder when she did appear. It was as though loyalty was seeking to conquer faithlessness in his distorted mind. As the power of memory and the knowledge of past events came slowly back to his brain, he could not comprehend why Mrs. Wesley was so frequently standing there by Ella’s side. ‘*She was a friend of Mr. Bob’s,” Clarkson told him; but that did not enlighten him, ~ “« Why was Bob’s friend there?” The mystery was explained to him one after- noon, when well enough to have his chair wheeled into an adjoining room. Muriel, by arrangement, left him alone for balf an hour with Mrs, Wesley, in whom she had learnt to have the greatest confidence. What passed during ‘that interview no one knew; but Mrs. Wesley left the house soon afterward, and the following day started with her mother on a foreign tour. ’ Philip, meanwhile, was very silent; but as he struggled back to health it was evident to those about him that he was a chastened, as well as an honester and graver man, Six years have passed since tied events happened. One of the eldér partners of the house of Burlington, Frost & Company has gone to his rest, and ‘Philip has taken his lace. The little house in Brooklyn has long since been given up and replaced by the much more commodious one in New York, which became Bob’s at Colonel Faber’s death, and was n0w rented by Philip. There are many lights in its windows now, and much running to and'fro may be observed, Clarkson, among all the servants, being the most active. ‘She ‘is heré, there, and every- where, looking ‘after everybody. — Tt is evident that it is the occasion of a great festival, for Muriel, in a dress of pale amber satin, trimmed with soft ‘lave, as Clarkson only can ee comes down the staircase, and ‘walks,’ an a pas expression on her = through at abou fo tke ae : ice inh sadicads 4 <3 zb eR ee ip me Bie » Syn ae ate ae ee Wesley’ 3 marriage with a distinguished foreign diplomat. Muriel, as she stands there waiting for the | guests to arrive, though no longer the beauti- ful girl who turned men’s heads and madé their hearts flutter in that same old house*nearly tev years ago, is, nevertheless, a ‘very ‘pleasing- looking little matron. Happiness has set its beautifying imprint o0 her brow, and time has considerably worn out the marks left by the dreadful illness. As she pauses before the manitle-piece to give a few last touches to the lovely flowers which are arranged there in beds of moss, Philip comes in, and going up to his wife, pitts his arm round her. “My darling, you cannot form any idea how thoroughly happy I am to-night!” “Yes, dearest Philip, I know full well; for your happiness or misery always finds a "true echo in my own heart.” The first guests that arrive are the Claytons; and honest Joe’s whole countenance beams with delight as they unexpectedly ‘witness this entente cordiale between husband and wife, for he feels sure now that Philip 1° longer regrets the marriage into which he felt at one time honor alone had driven him. Bob and Bee, now married and settled a few streets off, speedily follow the Claytons, to be succeeded in their turn by Mrs. Faber, looking much plumper and rosier than she did six years ago, for she is now living in a perfect monotony of content. Of course Madame la Baronne de Torres Vedras, as Mrs. Wesley is now called, is re ceived with due honor and much empressememty and the whole party seems likely to prove 4 very festive one, especially as the dancing ar: rangements have been placed in the hands of Frank Danvers, the only unmarried mat among the intimates For some days past he has been very busy collecting the necessary presents for a GermaD, which he is to lead with a very pretty Mis Fuller, a niece of the baroness, and, as J0? Clayton observes, “ There is no knowing what may be the result of the ball in the Lazenby mansion.” THE END, The Best Weekly of Popular, Entertain’ ing and Useful Literature Pub= © ~ lished in America! ~~ Its Unrivaled Corps. of Contributors, inlpates all of whom write exclusively for its neva. the following authors of world wide ee cle Colonel Prentiss Ingraham, Albert W.. me! Capt. Fred. Whittaker, Ca: Sph Mayne, Reid, oes E. Badger, es Edward Tt... Wheeler, Nie ie ON Coomes, Dunning ‘Clark, Buffa Beaver, Buckskin Sani, Major Dadeeri: 1 1 88 Harbengis , Philip 5. Warne, MAN Bey Anthony P. Morris, Lavz.ce Poyntz. Bach and all of “whom tive to Brabre’s WER if their very bes‘ productions in all the varied fields Border and Wild West Rowance— hy a a Advonture, Exploration and Sport, City Life, Character, Courts and: Waye- Detective and shadow? race Stories of the Great Deep, oe So that each and every, number. is, overflo with reading of the mogt interesting and, exe nature; while in its § aie Departments, ¢ all. the needs, and’ to the: benarali nit 16 and, usefulness, of ae pehen jour BEADIEy WEEKLY is the paper of all others for y our W te reading and entertainment." Beadle’s Weekly 4s pitsianivatl oy the Following Rates: , u 4h oh For Four Months... .......+ For One ‘Year... 2.00 0022. Two Copies for One Year. . “4 santo bens ~ Stone ya ail Resi pred ky aided 8 "nor
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11 Adventures of Buffalo Bill. From Boy- _hood to Manhood. Deeds of Daring and'Roman- tic Incidents in:the early life of William F. Cody. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 2 The Ocean Hunters; or, The Chase. of Leviathan. A Romance of Perilous Adven- _ ture, By Captain Mayne Reid. ER An Extra Large Number.-@& 3 Adventures of Wild Bill, the Pistol Prince. Remarkable career of J. B, Hikok, (known to the world as ‘“ Wild Bill,”) giving the true story of his adventures and acts. By Col. . Prentiss Ingraham. 4 The Prairie Ranch; or, The Young Cattle Herders, By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. 6 Texas Jack, the Mustang King. Thrill- ing Adventures in the Life of J. B. Omohundro, ‘Texas Jack.” By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 6 Cruise of the Flyaway ; or, Yankee Boys _ in Ceylon. By C. Dunning Clark. 1% Roving Joe: The History of a Young “ Bor- ' © @er 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 ©. Dunning Clark. 9 Bruin Adams, Old Grizzly Adams? ‘Boy Pard. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 10 The Snow-Trail; or, The Boy Hunters of Fur-Land. By T. C. Harbaugh. 1l 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 Gun Club. By Capt. F, Whittaker. IZA Rolling Stone: Incidents in the Career on Sea and Land as Boy and Man of Colonel Prentiss Ingraham. By Prof. Wm. R. Byster. 14 Adrift on the Prairie, and Amateur Hunters on the Buffalo Range. By Oll Coomes, 15 Kit Carson, King of the Guides; or Mountain Paths ‘and Prairie Trails. By A. W; Aiken. 16 Red River Rovers; or, Life and Adven- ~ tures in the Northwest. By C, Dunning Clark. 17 Plaza and Plain; or, Wild Adventures of »“Buekskin..Sam,”, (Major Sam 8, Hall.) By » Colonei Prentiss Ingraham. ifle and Revolver; or, The Littleton Gun’ Club on the Buffalo Range. By Copied » Frederick Whittaker. 19 Wide-Awake George, The Boy Pioneer; or, Lifé ih a Log Cabin. “ Incidents’ and Adven- tures i in the Backwoods. . By. Edward Willett, 20 The Dashing Dragoon; or, The Story of General George A. Ouster, from! West Point to the Big Horn. By Captain Frederick Whittaker. 21 Deadwood Dick as a Boy} or, Why ' Wild Ned Harris, the:New-England Farm-lad, be- ‘,, Came the Western’ Prince of sieeiiiod pu Ed- ward L, Wheeler: ; ius 22.The Boy. Exiles of Siberia} dr, . The Watch-Dog of Russi. By T, 0. Harbaugh. 23 Paul De Lacy, The French Beast Charmer: », or, New York Boys in the Jungles. A Story of Adventure, Peril and id in’ ‘Africa: “By C. Dunning | , ; oo The Sword Pranee's ‘The Romantic Life *Y ob ‘Colonel *Ménstery> ¢Axneriein Che rapion-at o's.) By Captain, Frederick Whitteitter. 25 Round the Gamp ‘Fires'o or, Snow-Bound hed “Freeze-out Qamp.’’. By’Jos, E. Badger, Jr. i enemies Goa P tive ril | Maine. By T.0. Harbaugh, " AMT woit Pola manly Pe tr | 34 The Young Bear Hunters. 2% Wellow Hair, the Boy Chief of the Pawnees. The Adventurous Career of Eddie Burgess of Nebraska. By Colonel Prentiss In- graham. 28 The Chase ofthe Great White Stag and Camp and Canoe. By C. Dunning Clark. 29 The Fortune-Hunter; or, Roving Joe as Miner, Cowboy, Trapper and Hunter. By A. H. Post. 30 Walt. Ferguson’s Cruise. A Tale of the Antarctic Sea. By.C. Dunning Clark. 31 The Boy Crusader; or, How a Page and a Fool Saved a King. By Capt. Fred. Whittaker. 82 White Beaver, the Indian Medicine Chief; or, The Romantic and Adventurous Life of Dr. D. Frank Powell., By Gol. Ingraham. 33 Captain Ralph, the Young Explorer; or, The Centipede Among the Floes.. By C. Dunning Clark. A Story of the Haps and Mishaps of a Party of Boys in the Wilds of. Northern Michigan, By Morris Redwing. 35 The Lost Boy Whalers; or, Inthe Shadow of the North Pole. By T. C. Harbaugh. 36 Smart Sim, the Lad with a Level Head. By Edward Willett. 37 Old Tar Knuckle and His Boy Chums; or, The Monsters of the Esquimaux Border. By Roger Starbuck. 38 The Settler’s Son; or, Adventures in the Wilderness and Clearing. By Edward 8. Ellis. 39 Night-Hawk George, and His Daring Deeds and Adventures in the Wilds of the South and West. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 40 The Ice Elephant; or, The Castaways of the Lone Coast. By Capt. Fred. Whittaker. 41 The Pampas Munters; or, New York Boys in Buenos Ayres. By T. C. Harbaugh. 42 The Young Land-Lubber; or, Prince Porter’s First Cruise. By C. Dunning Clark. 43 Bronco Billy, the Saddle Prince. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. _ 44 The Snow Hunters; Woods. By Barry De Forest. 45 Jack, Harry and’ Tom. The Three Champion Brothers; or, Adventures of Three Braye Boys with the Tattooed Pirate, By Capt, Frederick Whittaker. 46 The Condor Killers; or, Wild Adventures atthe Equator. By T. C. Harbaugh: 47 Whe Boy Coral-Fishers; or, ‘The Sea- Cavern Scourge. By Roger Starbuck. 48 Dick, the Stowawa 5 or, A Yankee Boy’s Strange Cruise: By Charles Morris. 49 Tip Tressell, the Floater; or, Fortunes and Misfortunes. om the Mississippi: | By Edward _. Willett. 50 The Adventurous Life of Nebraska Charlie, (Charles «£. Burgess.) ‘By * Colonel Prentiss Ingraham, 51 The Colorado Boys; or, Life® on an Indigo Plantation. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. 52 Honest Marry; or, The Country Boy Adrift in the City... By Charles Morris, 1, 53.The Boy Detectives; or, The Young Cali- fornians in Shanghai. By GC. Harbaugh. 54 California Joe, The Mystérious Plainsman, By Col, Prentiss Ingraham, 55 Marry Somers, The Sailor Boy ‘Magician, By S. W. Pearce. 56. a ys 5 abcisehaatoat H> odd 40. a, or, Winter in the at ™ oF ne ree. ceipt of six cents. 57 The Menagerie Hunter; or, Fanny Ho- bart, the Animal Qneen. By Major H. Grenville. 58 Lame Tim, the Mule Boy of the Mines; or, Life Among the Black Diamonds. By Charles Morris. 59 Lud Lionheels, the Young Tiger bg By Roger Starbuck. 60 The Young Trail Hunters; or, New York Boys in Grizzly Land.. By T. C. Harbaugh. 61 The Young Mustangers, By C. D, Clark. 62 The Tiger Hunters; or, The Colorado Boys in Tiger-Land. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. 63 The Adventurous Life of Captain Jack, the Border Boy. (John W. Crawford, the Poet Scout.) By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, — H 64 The Young Moose-Hunters 3 0r, Trail and Camp-fire in the New Brunswick Woods. By Wm. H. Manning. 65 Black Horse Bill, the Bandit Wrecker; or, Two Brave Boys to the Rescue. BE Roger Starbuck, : 66 Little Dan Rocks; or, The Mountain ‘iia's Mission. By Morris Redwing. sine n 67 >Longshore Lije; or, How a Rough Bay a | Won His Way. By C. Dunning Clark! " 68 Flatboat Fred; or, The Voyage of the ‘“*Ex- - periment.” By Edward Willett. vin 69 The Deer-Hunters; or, Life in the Ottawa : Country. By John J. Marshall. in 70 Kentueky Ben, the Long Rifle of the Pisins; i or, The Boy Trappers of Oregon: By ‘Roger es Starbuck. / ‘ke Y1 The Boy Pilot; or, ‘The Island Wreckers. ae By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 72 Woung Dick Talbot, By Albert W. Aiken. 73 Pat Mulloney’s Adventures; or, Silver Tongue, the Dacotah Queen. By C, L. Edwards. 74 Whe Desert Rover; or, Stowaway Dick Among the Arabs. By Charles Morris, thee 75 Whe Border Gunmaker; or, The Hunted Maiden. By James L. Bowen. . 76 The Kit Carson Club; or, Young awk: ples eyes in the Northwest. By T.C. Harbaugh) . = 717 Left-Handed Pete, the DPE Roe By } Jos, E. Badger, Jr. Gs + | fA th 78 The Boy Prospector; or, The Soont ofthe Gold Ravine. By Roger Starbuck. ee Eh ee 79 Minonee, the Wood Witch; or, the Sanepeey’ Secret. By Edwin, Emerson, i - 80 The Boy Cruisers 3 or, Jos and Tap Big. Find, .By Edward Willett. . ¢3353.3 rs! 22 81 Khe Border, Rovers; ar), Tost the Over 4, ee ‘ “ Oe See be, See land Trail. By J. Milton Hoffman. . 82 Alaska, the Wolf Queen; ‘The Girty, on Brothers’; Double, Orinaee: bee wegen nie Howard. hd H. a » set x ; 83 The Young Nihilist; or, we Yankee Boy Sh Among the Russiazis:' “By Charles Morris; ' = 84 Little Rifles,or, The Young: ur Hnnters , By Capt. “Bruin” Faery ms. : 85 Fighting Fred 3. : “on The Castaways ‘ot Grizdly Camp: By'T. ©: Harbaugh. W 198 $d “> 86 Dr. Carvery the “Evil Spirit” ofthe Plains, Je or, The Champion Shot of the World. ores Prentiss Ingraham, Lares 87 Old Ruff, the Moutitaldedt?. or, The T: ap Strange Pet. By Captain “Brain A ams A new 3 7 every we sy ohh 2. Brapiy's Boy's Lrerary, is for ie: Spas. dealers, five'cents per copy, or sent. oink 258 pant tae aint} out ' = =a nn < or ty ‘ ¥ ici ses PS A rae t : woaviniod a a1lt Ao vet w*readt yA & #9, ins dinar Horiet been? ‘ in / fa Pa sr. 5 A.» sae a ee Sa », eee nA Be
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rea Ti American Copyright Novels and the Cream of Foreign Novelists, Ay a GSA, FOR —_— cunt Arabella Southworth: . The Cheapest Library Ever Published! . ! — — oS, i Khe Masked B-ide}3_ or, ous She Marry | 67 Forbidde n Bans. By Arabella Southworth. | 138 Poor Valeria! or, The Broken Troth 2 oe oo — Mary Crow 68 Weavers and W By By M. E. Braddon, By Margaret Blount. By wot or, Collegian “— Sweet- | 69: Camille; or, The Fate of a Coquette. By | 139 Nar aret Graham. By G, P. R. James s eae et A on prner, Alexandre Dumas. 140 Without Mercy. Be Beste if PE ig 1 tr na oA e. By Bartley Campbell. 70 The Two Orphans. By D’Enery. 141 Honor Bound, illian ve eart; or, Startlingly Strange. | 71 tg Ele Zoung Wife. By My Young Wife’s | 142 pices. from Sinned By Mrs, “Farrie 5 Bessie Raynor, the Work Girl. William Mason Turner, M. D, 6 The Secret Marriage. B 7 A Daughter of Eve; or, By Mrs, Reed Crowell. By Sara Claxton. linded by Love. we 8 Heart to Heart. By Arabella Southworth. 9 Alone in the Worlds; or, The Young Man’s Ward: By the auther of ‘Clifton,’ etc. 10 A Pair of Gray Eyes. By Rose Kennedy. ,: ee Entangled; or, A Dangerous Game. y Henrietta ea GTR i3 Madcap, the Little Quakeress or, The Naval det’s Wooing. By Gorinne norteet 14 bog? 4 ¥ Married Him, By Sara Claxton. 3 Face; or, Out in the World. By Bartley T. Camp yell. 16 Trust Her Not3 or, A True Knight. By garet Leicester. 4 A et Lover. Br srenelie Southworth, dol; or, The Ill-Starred Marriage. By ry Reed Crowell. 19 The Broken Betrothal; or, Love versus | Hate y Mary Grace Halpine. 20 Conan Well, the Orange Girls or, The Lost Heir. By. Agile Penne. 21 Now and Forever 3 or, Why Did She Mar- x Him? By Henrietta Thackeray. 22 The Bride of am Actor. By the author __ of “* Alone in the World,”’ “ Clifton,” etc. 23 gc Weary or, Why She Proposed. By Sara 24 Her ce Was Her Fortune. By Elea- nor Blaine. - 25 Only a Schoolmistress; or, Her Untold ret, By Arabella Southworth. 26 romp ah a Heart. By Col. P. Ingraham. ae by che a Coquette? or, A Strange hip. By Henrietta Thackeray, ‘a8 i. eae ae The Gambler’s Wife. By NS: 29 For re ear Sake, poy Sara Claxton, 30 q Bouquet Girl. ey Agile Penne. 31 A Mad: men “ge, ByMary A. Denison 32 Mariana, $ e Prima Donna }_ or, Roses FA apells outhworth. 33 —he Whreé 3 isters, By Alice Fleming. 34 A_Marriage of Convenience}; or, Was ‘Hea Count? By Sara Claxton, 35 All Against Her. By Clara Augusta, 36 Sir Archer’s Bride; or, The Queen of His ‘Heart. By Arabella Southwort' 37 The Country Cousin. Rose Kennedy. 38 s Own Again; or, Trust Her Not. By rabella Sou worth. 39 Flirtation; or, A Young Girl’s Good Name. y pecob Abarbanell (Ralph Royal.) 40 led to Marry. By Sara Claxton. rere whisvatien, By Alice Fleming. ce, the Beautiful; or, His Second at Arabella South worth, ° a The Baroneve janet or, The Rival Half- ‘he Only pre $ Cr, Brother against oF foe -. beige’ oh Love At All Odds. ig oat Lape Helress} or, Under a Cloud. ar MiGente She” Loved | § sual, or, How Will Tt End ce Flem: 48 In e ahh Herself or or, Jeannette’s Repa- 49 s Mistr } ae Strange Gi By Albert W, Aiken. 166 A Man’s Sin. lige Bae Winwood. 167 The Hand of Fate; or, The Wreck of Two Lives... By Arabella Southworth, 168 Two Fair Women, By Wm. M. Turner. 169 Tempted Through Love; or, One Woman’s Brror.. By Lillian Lovejoy. 170 Blind. Barbara’s Secret. “By Mary : Grace Halpine. 17W1L A Woman's Wiehe 49s Through Much Tribulation. Sara n. 172 Black Eyes sail aiwe. By Corinne Cushman. Thretoe' 4 173 ne oC Cost of a Folly. By Georgiana. ickens. : 174 The Pretty Puritan.. By A Parson's 175 is. nines Mockery? or, Revenge’ is s Love a ocke 0 ve 7 Sweet; By Arabella ‘Goathw path 176 A dain, the Adopted. By “Jennie Davis’ 177 For es Woman He Loveds; or, yng nes Mar Shelton. eet Corinne Cushiniat. 18 7; ps hertong Sara Claxton.’ 182 An American .GQucens or, The Heart of. id. Grace Wwortimer. 183 A woint ae Honor; on, Diamond cut Diamond. Lillian Lovejoy. 184 Pursued se the Altar. By Corinne P 185 Put to. a Test; 08 A Fortune Hanter’s . Fate. 7 Georgiana Di ckens. 186 rhe Ps fe eruch or, The Thornhurst Mystery. By Jennie Davis Burton, 187 Outwitted by Herself; or, A Mother's Scheme, By Arabella Southworth. Peas! Florette, Child of the Street; or, A q 188 Fayond Price. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. | | 189 Her Guardian’s nage: amet or, my ytor j he Balance, By Sara Cl 190 Gkety and Proud, or, The ‘Gold-Bug of Frisco. By Corinne Cushman. 191 a Woman’s Maneuver 3 or, Purse, nov eart. By Lillian Lovejoy. 192 The Bitter Feud. By Jennie Davis Bur 193 a oaki the Petiers}.° or, The Gypsy’s . Borret. By Georgiana Dicke oe aie 194 The Mysterious Guardian; or, Clare, th the Opera Singer, By Corinne Beg ae In the Balances or, A: Shadowed Lov $45 By Arabella Southworth, 196 Jule, the Tew Jewess+ or, the Miser million: A new asi every apelin Waverney Lisrary is,: dealers five se cc pom sot bas oy 4