Waverley Library (Quarto Edition) (no. 205) (1883 10 16)
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ae, Ul : 4 megs ta fi i nr 1 Ty, - ~2s dine » g The Cheapest Library! The Cream of American and F ot ro AN a a I } i - y ult i] © 16, 1883, Copyright, 1883, by BEADLE AND ADAMS. No 205, ooo ee A MINISTERING ANGEL;*"0°, mmsesrou . BY GHORGIANA DICKENS, AUTHOR OF ‘A SCATHING ORDEAL,” “ LORD ROTH’S SIN,” ‘‘PUT TO A TEST,” ‘THE COST OF A FOLLY,” BTO, mS) Et be PE ae ae ww SLRS WARS | ANY AYN vihy AA \ Wish \ NN ¥
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a Bags 2 s } Al Ministering Angel: Mistake, Sy . BY GEORGIANA DICKENS, ’ -AUTHOR OF “BREAKING THE FETTERS,” ‘Spur 4 TO A. TEST,” ETO., CHAPTERMM. AN INTERRUPTED DECLARATION, 2% Royal Thornleigh’s It was four.o’clock on the eye of a regular oldfashioned Christmas-tide, with its full com- ge plement. of frost-and snow; for, as far as the eye could see, old Father "Christmas had his customary hoary aspect, without which one never seems fully to realize that his festive reign has commenced, ‘But plenty of evidence as to the character of the season was shown by the clusters of bitter- sweet, and wreaths.of evergreens, clemiatis and autumn leaves which adorned the interior of “h Elsmere Hall, even had the exterior surround- ings been less ‘conclusive. x, hé ballyitself was a singular combination in =i its structtre,of ancient.and modern architecture, ’ Built .originally in the last century it had passed down through several generations,of E's- meres who had taken.pride in retaining in their 7h: name the fine old property. peri} From time to time wings had been added here * - and there, with turrets and towers and fancy : windows, until from the outside very little of the old structure was,apparent., Inside. it was different, and it was of the original part that’ _ the Elsmeres were especially proud, and spared { no trouble or “ampeee to keep it-in'a state of _) preservation; and on occasions of this kind it 2 was the; reat old square hall with its open fire- Age place, ich formed one of the chief attractions, \ and where assembled many a merry party who 13 made the great beams overhead ring with the echoes of ee mirth and frolics. | : Just at this moment, however, the hall seemed ? deserted but for the presence of a slight girlish | figure which was Regen before the b. oye i ~ — logs, see Pa rr in two little hands the. Oe tude betoker deep é with the. ve sur- as could be seen from the way : aru continually into the face a 74 ae aps ithful animal could read some- a in that facé which did not quite accord a ¥ he time and place. Yet surely the proud _ daughter pe Elsmeres could have no reason o to look sad and wistful at this bright season! _ And yet brute fr tuginets are not often at fault Booey atv) ngs when something is amiss, But’ Maud Elsmere did not long remain silent. . Patting. the dai Shapey coat of the animal, she said, softly: . hat ails you, Don, old Be,” fellow “ls nat NS infectious? It will not - ra wo bloc to-day; and it is time for me srsah, She he yait risen from ber Khéeltnig: position 6 hearth “tug; when her father entered the are “ sae ‘Tan't it ‘tiniegyou" we re dressing, Maud” ‘he asked—and_ there was _- pleasure on his dark, grave face. a eed she going now, papa. Butefirst I want you ta ee that all ds ARraniget to: aaa ee i dy ear, C) -.. slight. was su Romie a smile of wen fe drous 1 p + Afoaeg mie mathoweonhl WT —— on ly. oe say th you ay succeeded be Se hy . eare to. the “ball, iio looting - Eat : softened mood seemed to affect er or Vv ets « iC y child, ee. reg a gl ing your brightes a Sou, are going to have a ~. 1 ‘very i y ‘evening, I trust, my aasling.” ie A es, pape Tam hei ang etl ser tath of § Ma d went towar 6 door her father poe said hastily, | “T- forgot to tell you that Mr. -- * Thornleigh ‘has telegraphed '- t he intends to ‘be with us th is evening, ds he Can man- age to conte, after all.” oe} Vv ell, papa.” $ Brey! d Mr. Elsmere had no idea how mich his a daug was affected by the news she so. calmly * f re ma °: _ ett Le x head seemed in a ‘perfect whirl as she in; tent through the short broad corridor which _ Ied to the main staircase; but even thore she a ye 78 ae free to indulge in thought. Baa . tes ei Pet is ae: a ‘drill ‘pre-eminent on the list of qualifications for a ‘suitable husband. her beauty. vicinity nt, who altliosirt reeh ‘a most intel- | Ben coed og installed at the Hall, there.would | and Eva tir: ham, he faintest shade of dis» after ete coolly your satistac- ees pf tt ah ‘of the A MINISTERING ANGEL, i. Several visitors were staying at the Sere, and one of them, Lucy Millington, who had one of Miss Klsmere’s schooilfellows, came Sound. ing p the stairs after her... - rs. Millington was the widow of refined but improvident, naval officer), whose death iad 1 left her -in somewhat straitened circumstances, Her.oné, hope of rescue froma life of genteel i) af was based on the beauty of her only c Lucy had, from her earliest infancy, been in her mother’s creed—that wealth stood In order to fit her daughter for ahigh position in society, Mrs. Millington had drawn rather freely on her not very ample resources, and had sent Lucy to oné of the best city schools. - The widow’s gratification at the intimacy there formed between her child and Miss Eismere was certainly more sincere than most of the ““grati- fications” she was wont to express; and to add to her satisfaction came Miss, Elsmere’s very. cordial invitation that Mrs. Millington should accompany Lucy on this first visit to Elsmere. The beautiful heiress was not by any means inelined to be suspicious. She was too genuine and true-hearted herself to suspec6é others of mean motives, and it was pleasant to her to sée Lucy’s childisbly gleeful delight at the prospect of the evening’s festivities. But Lucy and her light words were soon for- gotten, and as Maud went to her dressing-room, a softened. brightness made her pure. face per- \fectly lovely. Hers was po commonplace type of beauty. Her oval face was generally pale; and the dark hair, which waved slightly, forming pretty curves ‘against the clear skin, would.-have led one to expect that when her darkly-fringed eye- lids were raised, a pair of dark-brown’ eyes. would be disclosed, instead of the blue ones that were really there. Ma ny people thought that in the contrast of color—between hair and eyes ‘—Maud’s chief charmlay. At any rate, she was charming; so every one allowed, in spite of a certain pride of demeanor which kept ‘all the satiodian in the neighborhood from..ac- owledging that they were under the spell of An hour later, Mr. and Miss Elsmere were egaba| their guests, All the ne sae in the ad been invited, so that, including the oodly assembly. Conspicuous eet the hovye of fair girls present when a entered the dining-hall were Lucy Mili It so happened that Lieutenant ‘Hilton, had | tri one of the young girls on each’ side of a ‘to although he was gradually losing himsel witchery of Lucy’s smiling repartee, he~ ron | not quite ignore the fact that Kiva was not attractive in appearance, but thoroughly well informed. On.his arrival at Eismere, where hehad been. invited on account of his father’s intimacy with Mr, ee a b rgone days, he had been very nuch sti y Maud Elsmere’s beauty. ~~ . The’ icer, though willin rc e\ at tabi? she-was Motdiae be. most beautiful girl he ES ae Ft AA Oh ertheless less a slave to her { fon. ~ hohe meg d app bs Ne balm to his f does not feel-a slight sense of wo as he had And L ni ge was ao worldly-wise to let ne oe Wad ree and the evening's | ments had cic oR before the a Thornleigh, Noone bad known. that e@ was expected. was we eee: they did not, otherwise. might haye ug tributed. pith shanes in Maud Els- mere_to its right cause, Already there were wonderings whi: spered that the heiress was less haughty than usual on: this'‘night when for the first time she was ing the aes oe the = Eggs pc future 3 here was penn a in hoe seria ‘ee could not tell what, that. made her more thoroughly lovely than t had ever seen her; and yet, in spite of the soft- ened tenderness of expression that bathed ber glorious eyes in dreamy beauty, some of those who looked at her could fancy. how those same} blue eyes conld assume a ste Took at any” at tempt to gain their owner’s aves Luckily for Miss Elsmere, the guests ' 5 5" : struck by the announcement of the new guest’s name that she was unobserved. Many present righ . that moment, the youn . been! influenced by tor was ings | } after Miss toralee fndifterences for Mbp ne ity | Pe ie officer un i she} the depth of hi ‘ Sioa e depth o} s pocket. Vien ath val oF Me Mr. Mlsmerg atid his d aavialiver y | with ace ow quit “in his senses be } Heard to tor had made him her slay ~™ She FREE AE ENC TE a knew the stranger by name as a railroad mag- n | nate and political power of great ne ute, and in 0 their. astonishment at having so“ ent a per- sonage in their midst. they _ failed to, notice the ‘fitish that. would come into her cheeks in oe of every effort. hen, a few seconds later, the assembled Company saw theit young ‘hostess. exchange greetings with her guest her face was as pale as on order sot occasions, and but few of the num- ber noticed the slight quiver of eh as fora moment.she raised her eyelids lanced quicklyat the-man whose love she felt to be hers, and whom she had during a brief visit to her aunt, Mrs. Brentwood, learned to regard as the noblest and best of his sex, To Mrs, Millington and ber daughter the en- trance of -this distinguished and wealthy man was as the sudden appearance of the sun amorg the less brilliant twinkling ‘stars. The stars had been bright and ‘attractive until now; but the superior oe gee and wealth of the newly- arrived sun had thrown, all other objects into the shade. But Lucy Millington had plenty of discretion, and in the dazzling light of this unexpected lu- minary she did not forget that should he take his departure, the former ae at wonldbe very acceptable. , She therefore ifn if Baitton'to her ambitious hopes“and allowed danee withber several times. = Meanwhile she observed Miss Hlenare closely; and once, on having an opportunity of speaking to her mother, she asked for that lady’s opinion respecting the heiress and Mr. Thornleigh. ‘*Do you think, mamma, that she shows him any marked preference?” Lmey asked. ‘No, my dear; and yet I am certain that there is somethin differ ent about her this evening. As for 1, any Rye can see that he has 6yes only for her. : But, as if to contradict her last tena Miss Elsmere and Mr. Thornleigh came forward at lady saying as she did so, ‘“‘ Lucy, my dear, Mr, yhomnleig! wishes to make your acquaintance,” She did not/say, nor bh Lucy the mi Jesty to suppose, that in seeking her Mr. Thornleigh had Miss Elsmere’s accidental remark that Miss Millington had beet her com- panion at school for six years. The feeling that causes us to envy those who have known and _been intimate with our loved ones in those days ‘when we were in ignorance of their very ex- istence—the time which we fanc now oes irty | be unendurable if we had to’ live the Egy Mt mn ee Mr, Thorvleigh’s interest in ton; whereas she, in her girlis y; ated aa had the frivolous girl been so proud of his notice to her own able attrac- her Figg appearance as she was then; and Millington gracefull a to the pai gentleman, the thought ca dau hter’s mind that ber pinggtnets to her stful re- Pe ‘in sup- ng the two. ladies ro what. Mrs. Milling- deemed a for a proper eee bat at Sissoce would swailow a OOD neome; b fey. what was the use /of. giving Lucy a oil t training if she were» ag ah hances away? The barvest-time was at now, Should the in-gathering be a failure from inef- ficient meee cid no. And as the ke a few well-chosen words ‘she no- delighted satisfaction that Lucy was looking the perfection of girlish h innocence and sweetness. To the mother’s tial e Maud’s pale Fagin Yieant compared "s glowing. Nie: ty If only Lucy s poadtiont or one equal to it, no man hesitate to give her the pre- with had Mau ference. - Mr. Hilton " Pehtohed the girl whose! winning bi and he nto fear that he was to havea formidable srieak hh - Mr. Thornleig dance with Miss Millington, to re- sign his partner. i The merry hours were passing q iekly on- bth and Mato was my Bee el, enj t after c ; seemed ot A te a ‘som what: ee eee Mr. Hilton remark: ! ‘I really believe that Mr. Thornleigh is the _
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Ris roa ae ae ite sik POR PR biehland. Wick Pa Te al ae a kf hoped that he would make inquiries respecting your time, I believe you pay reat my high- 4, IL have forgotten .if he did, civil to bim, I, hear her say he had desired to be introduced to | of her! brother’s had’ not turned up; she might have been less attrac-- a onan oh ie ocienpe lor.) ecoucerning m0 ud, \that we: should. come between her and this: man, if she really | '| uneasiness was put to flightas she noticed that, was perhaps making her feel for others, Had. aon fin val | tering gayly ‘tothe: young:reetor of the church. . ave ev-. ‘| the amusement byftorcblight, as had ‘had avoided -Mr: Thoroleigh, she Christmas Day the household repaired to. te:| she longed intensély for the ‘pearance the whole household slept. But ap- ‘they Were proved to beso.” ea A slight, dark figure stepped out from a con- servatory that hid the old garden from the part of the grounds that were laid out in clpaeeis Style. / t , as tds f th ees 7 ar 5S’ rad Se ea Poh 2s oe Ee * Ape urad Wis —* CROP Paks Cay BL ALP ne 2 eae eT must contrive to let the paper fall into Mr. Thornleigh’s hands! iJt was mot addressed; end the abrupt style in which it. was written would necessitate a partial reading of: it. before its owner’s name could be discovered; . The widow the writer of the note, and so make-himself fa- wiliar with the chapter in the Elsmere: annals to which allusion Was nevermade,. She didnot interid ‘to’ join the skating-party; but she went down in order to see the young people set out. As she passed the breakfast-room , door, she heard loud chattering and laughter, Just then Mr, Thornleigh came out; saying as he did so, ‘‘ I bave a note. to write, Hilton, must leave you to help to arrange with the la- dies about »to-morrow’s: entertainment; Iam quite willing to! fall, in with any plans you may form.” bsg if ot ; . Millington watchéd bim as, he..went to the library, and after giving bim afew moments. to get partly through his task, she went quietly in the same-direction, ity The» question Ahatiiwas troubling) her was whether he would-come.out; from the Jihrary before any oneelse passed by, .She knew he would use: the! utmost. dispateb,; because the ladies were already dressed: for their. proposed excursion.: It) was necessary that she. sbould act at once; so, with a quick, glance, around to note if she were unobserved, she’ hastily. drop- sped the unaddressed paper on the door: mat, r Nothing more could,,be done;.excepting to - watch if Mr; Thornleigh removed the paper; so ‘she took up her position at some distance, where ae any r-by would suppose her to: be lost. in Sate admiration of the view to be. obtained from a long; narrow .window, by the, side of which a E full-length’statue hid, ber fromthe notice of Pa os any one passing to or from the iprary ime i= | oSbe bad) not long ‘to wait... Mr,.Thornleigh came quickly out, and) saw the note, Perhaps . — he fancied-he had dropped it bimself.. Atany —~ tate; he picked) it) up, and then .went to his ce Cc dressing-o0m. 1b one pias Ten. minutes later Mrs. Millington saw ‘him take his place'in the wagonetie that was to-car- " ry the party to the:lake, iN ese ioe His face was pale; but the widow, even in her hardness of | heart, ‘would -haye, been moved, could she: have “known ithe anguish which was She had sonly meant:to excite his suspicions. ss. Hismere’s: brother.: Jt never occurred to her that, having little or no knowl- edge of recent everits in the Elsmere family, he. would be ignorant of Geoffrey’s very existenee, Hadshe: thought, of, sacha , probability she would-at once have known) what interpretation he would give to :those «few, penciled: words; as itrwas, she:fancied theré could be but. one con- struction to beputwpon thems « 4) 9) foys.- She was rather uneasy in ber.mind, but.all ilton sat. on, Lucy’s left, Mr. ‘while Miss. Els- Thornleigh:was .on ‘ber: 1S. pot te ced cheeks, was t- mere, with slightly flus / The skating was, not very, enjoyable, r ‘all, A’ thaw? had; set) is} paeattinrnd | the weather-wise farthers predicted that,it ywould rain before night; so, instead of..keeping up vin- tended, Miss Eismere: proposed to bees for five o'clock tea, ef } dein tiven She was ‘not. very bappy, for a £22 soit ee did not ins the tarn affeirs bad taken; and) she Was quite: - convincéd in her own'mind that he was avoid-: ‘hing her. iv mont ottot pried ape beh ; d it be possible that he.was yielding t en ‘pthe: witchery of Lucy Millinetononosanert ae eS oe _ Mand had much to trouble ber just then; but _ her friends. no reason tO suspect. boop was the case, : L inte Wino ond hye wile The young: hostess. was determined to let nothing interfere with ker duty to her father’s guests: So, through thelong hoursof that win- ter evening, she maintained her character.b ‘her cheerful winning graciousness, althoug tinié when sh could put - - aeeones that was tien art give way to the feelings she vin ae ad “ : ee A calm stillness seemed to pervade Elsmere Hall in its quiet embrace. To ail outward ap- pearances are ever deceitful, and in thiscasa = teyre Shere 4 7. ,we tH oteerit he abe hy
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There had been a slight shower, and the clouds hurrying past the'moon seemed to tell of more rain. But the slight girlish figure went uickly on until the old lodge-gate was gained. Tren she was eagerly clasped and kissed by a tall, bearded man.» The light was-not bright, * and the silent watcher in the conservatory had no means of identifying the man;.but he had seen quite enough to satisfy bim that Maud Els- ‘mere had stolen out like a thief from:her father’s house, and had, by appointment; met someone clandestinely: : ‘* Heaven forgive me if I have acted meanily |” , he muttered to himself as: he went to his:room, iy, ‘ Until now I thought there-was some mistake, ian ' Oh, Maud, Maud! I could not have ‘believed it had’ my!own eyes not seen!’ And I was fool cy. enough to think she loved me!” : xy's In themean time Miss Hismere was learning eae what had induced her brother to seek his’ home fies” 5 after three years of banishment: J , Since his marriage he had never set: foot on his father’s estate until now; and. Maud had never seen him during those three dreary years, But, in spite of her pride, Miss: Elsmere was deeply attached to her brother; and she had some feeling of compunction on the ground that it'was through her that he and his. wife—~then ' Elsie Barton—had become acquainted. ‘The introduction had taken place one holiday time when Mrs. Brentwood had taken Maud. to . Newport for a few weeks, Geoffrey Elsmere ‘ was then at Harvard; but he went down to Newport to see his sister before her return to school. Sbe had gone down to the beach when ' Geoffrey reached the hotel where Mrs. Brent- ' wood ‘hai taken up her quarters, and Geoffrey, . . full of impatience to see his sister, went in search of her. a ; He never forgot the ‘happiness that came to » him that day whenvhe found Maud, for by ber side was seated a simply-dressed golden-haired é girl, wih a sweet flower-like face, to whom his eart was drawn as if by some subtle charm. | +. However, Geoffrey Elsmere was satisfied that = Elsie was the only girl he could marry, so he bebe 5 att pes her, and set to work in: earnest to sup- o> & Uportthers « 9 ade iy Borthors than two years:he had been able, by _ _-¥ -aeting as foreign correspondent to alarge firm, ' to earn sufficient to keep himself and Elsie from + want.” Then the'firm had failed, and the young -. husband found bow hard a thing it was to see his " wife suffering from privation at a time when’ she needed support; and in the bitter winter time, _ when so much was needed for fuel, the last bill - was changed to provide absolute necessities for ~ the A eda: and her infant boy. It was in this strait that Geoffrey resolved to go to Maud for eh Genuiely, a 5 oi would not ask» for myself, dear,” be said, _ ~\ humbly, ‘but it is forcdiilsie and her bey.” ‘ |. “Ehashy Geoffrey!’ and Maud Elsmere drew « the face that had grown thin and haggard 4 against her own, ‘‘ Tell me about the boy.’ . ~ “He js fine fellow, Maudie; and Elsie has 2 5 Aer Wig tec ioe iS . ; x ‘aig St a, ay Any . BBs lane eat wn Hoa it 5 es s ee HM Fr (see B97 SR er Rae OT LR eA, NR AB Mor 0 hc Re b ai a A MINISTERING ANGEL. Tell ber that I shall bein New. York shortly, and that,1. will contrive to see her. In the mean time give her this for my nephew,”. And Maud drew a small, well-filled purse from her ket, ‘‘I must mot remain. here, dear rother. How I wish this was at an end! I long to-see.you in, your old place again.” ‘‘That is like you, Maudie. You deserve to be heiress of Elsmere, and I do not envy you but for the sake of my wife and helpless child. But you are shivering.” ““T will goin now, Geoffrey. But how shall you return?” ‘*T can catch the early express, dear. trouble about me. poor Elsie.” With a loving and grateful kiss, Geoffrey turned away,‘never even stopping to glance at the home that for years he had looked upon as his rightful heritage. Do not Iam anxious to get back to It ‘was breakfast. time at Elsmere when Mr. Elsmere announced that’ Mr. Thornleigh had been suddenly called-away from the Hall. Mrs, Millington wondered ‘if there had been any unpleasant disclosures respecting the marriage of hid Fevryme dal if so; his father’s countenance did not betray him. Maud was, to all: appearance, quite uncon- cerned agers) their guest’s. movements. Certainly she looked rather weary; but then Mrs. Millington thought she could account for that by the knowledge she had of the midnight appointment.’ She would bave thought differ- ently had she seen Miss Elsmere early that morning when ‘she received from her maid a note that had been sent in. by Mr. Thornleigh’s valet. It was ‘very brief. “The inclosed note, which accidentally came-into my possession, will explain why I cannot see you ain, It is bad enough to think of you asl now re without having the additional of seeing you, Oh, Maud, fully? YAL THORNLEIGH.” In speechless agony Maud opened her brother’s note.” ‘This; then; was what had. driyen her lover away. She-had not thought. that he would have been so hard on her for seeing Geof- frey. eee wr in: doing so, she was obliged to deceive her father. Presently indignation overcame every other feeling. She had given this man no right to censure her—that was a soothing - reflection. How, ‘then, did he presume, to act so? She would not repine for:one who had so ceally here been: induced to give: up wooing her. was no time for quiet, calm reflection, . The bréakfast-bell would soon ring. In a few :minptes’ time she had written a’ decided to give him the old name. So he will be christened Geoffrey.” ‘‘ Poor Elsie! Give her my best love, Geoffrey. freezing reply to Mr, Thornleigh’s outburst. “He will not think [am disconsolate after that,” she thought, as she read what she had written, ‘'Next time he confesses his love to a lady he willdo well to be'sure of her answer be- fore assuming so much.” ; The quiet, stony calm that deceived Mrs. Mil- lington lasted through the day, tilevening that Miss Hismere’s sorrowful anger found reliéf in. tears, .Then for a. few,days nothing happened to. break the quiet. monotony of life at the Hall, © Lucy epee ag began to fear that her chance of meeting! Mr. Thornleigh’ again was. rather doubtful; and in the absence of other occupation, she gave, herself i the selfish pleasure of en- couraging’ Mr. Hilton’s attentions, when. she well knew'she could not give him anything in return, ‘But «this ‘state of things could not continue; and one morning, when the thoughtless girl had consented to walk in the lane where a sharp frost after the recent rains. had made it neces- sary that she should accept Mr. Hilton’s services to insure a safe progress—the young officer. told her of kis’ love;dnd asked her to promise'to be his at some future: day when he should have a home provided for her. He looked: so brave and handsome, with ad- miration lighting his eyes, that Lucy felt it dif- ficult to ‘refuse him. In every way he seemed so desirable+excepting in that one’ essential— that she pitied both herself and him. The ardent young Jover had been quite sure of success. Lucy’s manner had given him hope from the very , and her answer that she was very poor, and could not therefore marry poverty, came like a thunderclap. He. stood 4 _ still, and turned so as to look her full in | the face, sn “Do you mean to tell me that you have been trifling with me? That . ee ¥en a 249 Sgt w det Ee, Tens 7 ‘% ) ud! why did you act so.deceit- [ It was not un- you have been leading: me on only to throw me over? You cannot, surely, be so base?” Lucy tried first by arguing, then ‘by smiling banter, to calm the angry man; but the little gestures that had once filled him with admira- tion, now added to the contempt he felt for er. “You have until this moment appeared to me as a pure-hearted, innocent girl,” he said, scornfully. “‘Now I have no words to express what I feel for the heartless woman who, while determined to marry a rich man, trifles with the affections of a poor one. It was the 4 innocent child I deemed you that I loved—not your own mean, despicable self!” How the pair would have managed to walk back to the house in the uncomfortable frame of - mind that the young officer’s words produced was not put to the test, for, to Lucy’s intense re- lief, Miss Elsmere came in sight, driving her ponies, “T am Ng Lucy. The roads seem quite unsafe. ay I give you a lift?” she asked, --‘* Thanks; yes, turn,” Lucy said. But as she took her seat beside Maud, Mr. Hilton walked away in the direction of the stables. If his manner was noticed by Maud, she made no comment. She was beginning to fancy that everything was wrong, and nothing would henceforth astonish her very much. We were just about to re- CHAPTER. IIL FOR A WOMAN’S SAKE, ‘ TaKE my arm, Eva. I declare I can scarce- ly keep on my feet. I am glad your mamma did not venture out,” ; “So am I, papa; although she is missing a treat. . The fields look like plains of crystal. It is a pity that Miss Elsmere's skating-party was not put off until now; the weather is glorious!” r. Walsingham smiled at his daughter’s en- thusiasm, - ‘*If we could walk briskly it would be more evjoyable,” he said. ‘‘Sleighs or skates seem necessary to safe locomotion just now.” _ “TY should like to go ever to Elsmere before the frost gocs,” Eva remarked. “I fancy the young people will be visiting the pond again.” ““T dare say I could drive you over,” her father said, after a slight pause; ‘but it would be unsafe to take any horse but old ‘Derby, and your mamma would fidget if we were to venture out behind a spirited animal.” _ She was looking very pretty in her dark vel- vet dress and soft furs. The keen air gave 4 brighter tinge than usual to her cheeks; and her hazel eyes shone with enjoyment of the present and happy anticipation of the future, Even to herself Eva had scarcely admitted that she felt interested in Herbert Hilton. Yet the prospect of seeing him again made the in- tended visit to Elsmere very inviting, al- though. the young officer never paid her any special attention, unless, as sometimes hap- a Mr. Thornleigh had Lucy Millington at side. ut Mr. Walsingham ‘had heard of his sud- den departure, andas Eva thought that Mr. Hilton would have noone to come between him and Lucy, the bright look became more sub- dued. “‘ Halloa! what on earth isthe matter?’ And Mr. Walsingham’ quickly jumped over the fence that separated the field-path from the road, A horse had dashed past at a terrific xo just as Eva and her father reached the road, “ By Jove, he’s down!” And without wait ing to give Evaa helping hand, the old gentle’ man went as repty as he could to render as’ sistance to the falleri horseman. Quick as he was, Eva had reached ‘his sidé before be had ipeined the side of the prostrate Eva had known from the moment whe? horse. and rider had gone madly by that the gentleman was Mr. Hilton. In the distance some laborers had contrived to arrest the fligbh of the frightened horse, so that Mr. Walsing ham and Eva gave their undivided attention the unfortunate young officer. : “He is quite stunned, Eva, and we have n means of restoring him. Some of these me? 00. Bee, and yet it may be'a case of li and—” seceeT i papa! , Your need not fe % r Dig hae J ae .“Oh, I can go, 72 “aha
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‘5 ‘Be careful, child. You look quite fright- ened; but I know I can trust you.” ; In less time than Mr. Walsingham could have deemed it possible, Eva was at bome. Her mother was startled at first to see her without her father; but Eva briefly explained matters. Mrs. Walsingham was a helpless sort of woman, but her daughter was a host in her- self. A message was sent to the nearest doctor, and two man-servants, carrying warm rugs and a flask of brandy, was sent to render as- sistance to those already engaged in doing their best to carry Mr. Hilton’s prostrate form to The Willows—Eva’s home. ; The time seemed very long to the anxious «irl before her father and’ his hearty co-opera- tors arrived. She had caused a fire to be made, and everything prepared for the reception of the injured man; and when Mr. Walsingbam appeared, he saw at once that, as she had said, everything was in readiness, In less than an hour the doctor had pro- nounced the injuries to be serious. There was, in addition to a broken leg, a fracture of the skull. é : When everything that skill and kindness could do had been done to relieve the poor fellow, Eva suggested that Mr. Elsmere should be apprised of what had happened. “To be sure; he ought to know at once. Though, now I think ‘of it, the man who took the fiery brute, Sultan, home would tell what had occurred. saan it would only be ‘polite to send to Elsmere Hall. ad A note was hastily dispatched; but before the man had gone many yards he’ met Mr: Elsmere himself, He quickly scantied the note, and then, dismounting, entered the house. % “This is a sad business, Walsingham,” he said, as that gentleman met him in the hall. ‘‘Does Sabin think seriously of that head- y vound.” “That is the worst says there is danger; s.” * Den T'think his rhother should be told, She is in delicate health, poor lady; so I will not alarm her unnecessarily. A letter will not look so ominous'as a telegram, and I think it will be as well to say nothing about that nasty skull fracture; the broken’ le u enough danger to ber min , poor soul! esp2cia 'y as she is unable to come to his belp. Eva had b2en listening breatblessly. ‘He has a mec ia he not, r. Elsmere? would like'to come. ; ; ra a my dear,” Mr. Elsmere said, with unusual gentleness, “* that perhaps you could setid a tiny note to the sister. Xou will say what is needed more tenderly than I can, and be able to convey to her mind that although there is‘no great danger, you will welcome her gladly if/she thinks’ her presence would com- ort ber brother.” ; ; “JT will ao pair advise, dear Mr. Elsmerey” Eva eagerly returned, | ~And the vensleneit both noticed how her bands trembled as she sat down to execute his Wishes, ; “ However t%e poor fellow could have been so mad as ‘to mount Saltan when the ground is simply a shéet of ice, puzzles me! It ‘is my opinion that he has been annoyed in some way. I saw him Jaughing merrily with that light- hearted friend of Maud’s—Lucy Millington, I mean—tbis morning; and not half an hour Jater he was'as pale as death, and went to the stables in astate of great excitement. ‘Tomkins says he never saw a man so determined to have his way. Nothing would keep bim from mounting Sultan ” : ‘ Mr. Elsmere’ had been speaking in an under- ‘tone to Mr. Walsingham; but’ Eva heard enough to’ convince her that Lucy had been to blame. ed “Tf ever there is mischief, a woman is sure to bs at the bottom of it,” Mr. Walsingham re- marked,’ |“ Butas for Miss Millington, she looks uite a‘ child.” ; Na If thatters are as'I fear,” the other returned, “she ig woman enough to know how,.to trifle with a man’s’ love. She has encouraged him openly, and if she has fooled bim she is, no longer worthy of my dauzhter’s friendship. “Tf may not be so bad as you think,” Mr. Walsingbam said. a ae He oe Large ® vo and did not like the frown that bad settled on his friend’s face. “ T hope you may beright; but Herbert Hilton is dear to me for his father’s sake; and that this \ art’of the business. He bat the case is not hope- 38 os > ‘ ’ ; ae Aa ; . : : rie “4 4 : ee TE im Serb 8. Ss " , ay zs Oe ay BL ; ahs! es BOONE dete Ne iP eth BS ig a oy eh ta wpAi pi aan tats ye eee = oe) Ree ia will suggest quite’ Elsmere troubles me greatly.” When he returned home in thé evening he was convinced of the truth of his suspicions. He felt weary, and before removing his riding- dress lay down on a couch in one of the draw- ing-rooms.. A curtain separated thisroom from the adjoining one, There had formerly been a sliding partition, but Maud had persuaded her father to substitute gracefully falling curtains. For some time Mr. Elsmere lay dozing; then, while be was dimly conscious, he heard voices. For some moments he gave no heed, and the should have fallen on him while visiting voices bad no meaning to him. Suddenly he was aroused by hearing an angry voice exclaiming, “TI tell you, mamma, it was my fault. I told him I could not marry a poor man. If only he was wealthy I would thank- fully marry him. He isa thousand times more lovable than Mr. Thornleigh!” +e Rubbish, Lucy! Don’t talk to me about ove! Mr, Elsmere started to his feet. He had not intended to overhear the conversation. between mother and daughter. He went softly out of the room, and at his. earliest opportunity spoke to Maud on the subject. ‘*'You will not desire them to prolong their stay as you intended, my dear?’ he paket after detailing all he knew, “ Certainly not, papa; although thinking that Lucy, left to nar be would act differently.” ‘*I know you always find ‘extenuating: cir- cumstances,’ Maudie,” her father said, with his rare smile. And then he went to dress for dinner. I cannot help tter impulses, —__—_ CHAPTER. IV, A MINISTERING ANGEL, | ‘* HERE comes the postman, mamma! Bertie has written.” ; *“ We ought not to expect it,”: the mother re- turned,; although. the hope was echoed in her own breast. ‘‘Hehas so much to think of now, Poor boy! how I wish he could always have his days as bright as these late ones have been.” And Mrs. Hilton sighed as she waited in eager anticipation of what news the mail had I hope oug i As Miss Hilton took the letter—there was only ' one—from the neat little maid, who, with an elderly domestic, constituted the whole retinue of the modest little menage, an expression of surprise flitted across her face. “The letter is from Elsmere; is not Bertie’s, Mr, Elsmere’s,” Mrs. Hilton looked anxiously at the address. aled even tothe lips... “Tt is from Mr. Elsmere, Plorrie, What can be the matter?” , ; The young lady took thé letter from her mother’s hands, **D will open it; dear gently. : he a few moments the elderly lady did not speak. At one glance the daughter saw that some- thing was wrong; but knowing how excitement would tell. on ‘her mother’s deli said, quietly: “Tt is nothing very: serious, mamma; but I will read it to you.” Bertie'’has bad a fall, and ” reading hurriedly to get at the gist of the matter—‘‘ has injured-his leg. I will read what Mr. Hismere says, mamma,” thé young? girl but the writing mamma, I almost think it is Her face ™mamnia,” she said, cate frame, she went on bravely, knowing that suspense would | be worse than anything to the poor invalid. And very soon the widow knew the = aa of the injuries, so far as the gentleman had deemed it wise to enlighten her. ; **Here is also a note to myself in avlady’s handwriting, mamma—from Miss Elsmere, I suppose. No; itis from some strange lady—‘ Eva Walsingham,’ shesigns herself. Listen, mamma: “DeAR Miss Huton:— ¢ “Mr. Elsmere is writing to tell you of the accident that has happened to your brother, Lieutenant Hilton; so I am sending to let you know that you need not feel anxious On his'account, if you cannot conveniently come to sée him. .Mamma and T will nurse him as though he were ourown. He has been brought to our;house, as:he fell near here. But, dear Miss Hilton, if it would someone you and Mrs, Hilton to see for yourself how he is, do Sot Oa tate to come, I know people often exaggerate danger when they cannot see what is going en; so if Mrs. pega will Hay At k and I will meet ew , will y b me know, will meet vou at the station. ‘At the same time. I should Hilton to rest assured that there is: t of your absence for a Mrs. no olute ! t ) 4 ae _ 2 git = * degen oe: : 2 St Saag ne ee ie ta 8 es Py Sa ee Coe ee tes danger, and. that I will send daily to inform her of her son’s state, 1 you will take that ' “Tam, dear “What a dear, thoughtful girl, mamma! It is well that. Bertie is among sores kind friends,” ‘I should like you to go, Florrie,” Mrs, Hilton said, speaking for the first time, ‘Bertie will like to see some one belonging to him now he is sufféring.” ‘* But how can I leave you, dear mamma?” the girl asked, anxiously. Pei} The mother smiled bravely. ais thine ‘* How can you ask that of a soldier's wife?” —she never spoke of herself asa widow; ‘ Sure- ly I can be content to accept Maria’s services for atime. I-shall not feel happy unless you go. Maria must travel with you, and return to-morrow. I am glad I.am not dressed, © shall remain in bed to-day and to-morrow until oe return; for the rest, Jane can manage nicely. iT It was useless for Florence to argue that she could travel alone,’ Mrs, Hilton was firm, So a telegram was dispatched to The Willows, and after making every possible arrangement. for the widow’s comfort, Miss Hilton prepared to make the journey to Elsmere accompanied by the respectable-looking middle-aged woman who had lived with Mrs. Hilton during the happy wifehood that had been suddenly put'an end to ten yearsago, Never.durivg those long years had Mrs. Hilton been left by the faithful servant and loving daughter; but this was an exception- al case, and the two tender nurses decided that to persist fh remaining would only aggra- vate the poor mother’s distress. The young servant-maid felt the gravity of her. responsi- bility when, after listening ‘to a multitude of directions, she saw Maria follow Miss Hilton. into a hack, Hotta’ tei “Is that you, Flora?) Where am I? Have I been ill?’.. And Lieutenant Hilton. tried to raise himself in bed, but. was held. prisoner by. weak- ness and by a strange, fettered feeling, about his.right leg... i} = ow ers? “Yes, dear,” his sister returned. ‘answering his last query first. .‘‘ Your leg been in- jured bya fall. Do you not remember your ride on Sultan?” oe S0Sesh oye of pain seemed to contract the mus- face, and he raised his hand to his “T remember,” he said, ac head, Florrie?” What ails my ‘“It- was bruised by the. fall, dear; and. you have been unconscious; but, dear Bertie, you must not talk.” whl alt Ya jet “Only tell me where I am, and. abo mother,” he entreated, ina weak voice, did you-leave her?” . inde y.Florrie explained how cles of the head. ut my When she had been at The ‘Willows for three weeks, and that ber, mother would not hear of her return until he should be pronounced convalescent... iD ox entcnd ‘So yon must be obedient, Bertie, and | your utmost, to. get-well speedily,” she add aay sg i 5 ped inverse y County, nd Herbert Hilton did not know.how near he had been to the verge of eternity, nor how, in those weeks of anxiety, his'sister and Eva Walsingbam had been drawn, by .a common feeling of miserable suspense, into a close bond of.friendsbips” ) a. Bye te To Florence Hilton.the conviction-that Bertie Wwas).very dear to the sweet, brown-eyed girl had gradually deepened. “She did) not know then of the blow he had received from. Lucy Millington’s cruel hands; and:she wondered in those first days of returning strength, when Eva spoke to him so tremulously,that he did not perceive how his well-being affected her. > were f the young officer’s health improved and with the fi st. ray of joyous certainty that such was the case, Eva’s manner underwent a change, Florence Hilton involuntarily re- spected the womanliness that bid from’ Her- bert’s eyes the love which he had no wish to dis- cover. It was from ber brotber’s own lips that ahechee heard of Lucy Millington’s rejection oO Im, : [ay “I have made up iny mind to explain why I was so jmad as to run. headlong into this trouble,” he said one day, when Florence sat be- side his couch, embroidering some lace which she intended as a parting gift to Eva. ‘“ Have you ever seen Lucy Millington?” he asked, ab- ruptiy. ‘ You mean the , Childish-1 I meton the day I came: here? ithe 2 mother were leaving Elsmere, and were here. tickets at the station as I came | it . Mid, fortes be Tae ae hee ae nas Met iB £ aT ex, Rec: - jet a Secmemh at nese BES. x Apa »
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ee ‘ / oe, aie! fn ‘Then you know what reason I had to be deceived in supposing her..a pure-minded, inno- cent girl, instead of the mercenary, unwomanly wretch she has proved. She refused me on ac- count of my Jack of wealth, Florrie.” —__ \. His sister kissed him: tenderly: | She “was his “sénior by two years, and had always’ felt” the “importance of those two years in spite of her brother’s stalwart appearance, » “Thopethe knowledge of ‘her 'treachery has not come too late,” she said, gently. ~ “Tt hascome in time to’cure me entirely of the illusion that has made me so irrational,” he said, gravely. “any but'a pure, good woman,” he added. ‘And Florence wondered if ‘the time would “ever come when he would know of, and appre- ciate, the’ blessing which wasso’near at hand. Two days. later Florence Hilton returned home, traveling ‘this. time with Mr. and Miss ‘Elsmere, who were about to spend’ some ‘weeks ‘at Mrs. Brentwood’s town residence.’ Herbert Hilton was to remain a few weeks longer, as _ “the doctor thought the journey wotild’ be too ‘trying for him, and Mr. Walsingham was'so urgent, that Florence used her influence to in- “duce ber brother to consent to prolong his stay. Perhaps she hoped’ that he would-ses’ more of “Eva, and would learn to value her sweet, lov- ‘able character; but she was careful not to say a word that should betray. what she saspected «of Eva’s feeling for her brother. ©“ If Florence hail hoped for good news’ in ‘this quarter, she felt sadly disappointed when she met her brother a fortnight later. He seemed’sad and weary, and there was evi- dentiy nothing to communicafe. Yet, in spite ‘of bis assertion that he'was cured of ag sin het for Lucy Millington, he was often moody and ‘absent-minded, Only in his mother’s presence did he seém*anything like’the Bertie of old. No selfish emotions caused him to appear’sad and gloomy when with her, She had enough to bear without ‘having the shadow of his'petty ares thrown’ over her, he’ told himself, as he patiently ‘told her, over and over again,’ the ‘story of his‘accident. There was one thin ‘Whenever he spoke ‘of the Walsinghams, he pad nti oF etna and when ol pueva eof her gratitude to that. young lady, an Heras ent wish to be able toes and thank her’ personally; a ‘bright flush came into Her- ‘bert’s face, but he made no’remark. © Yet Mis tod W ‘CHAPPDR V." A STORY OF THE PAST. _ oo Tgx'r hea beauty; Maud?”—and pale, fragile- ing Elsie Elsmere looked in proud, happy ead bg the pretty bbbotsba presented by Maud ‘and her nephew on their first acquaintance. »oMaud’s eyes filled with tears. 9) | © There is a picture of manima in papa’s bed- room: It’ was painted when she was only ‘three years old; and the ‘likeness between these . tiny features and hers’ is most striking,” she said, brokenly, as at intervals'she paused to ‘kiss the “pouting baby lips, > séredr les é > Geoffrey thinks baby like your mother, dear,” the young mother exclaimed, delighted- bil bmg I'wish’she had lived, Maudie! Per- ] she would have influenced es father, id softened him toward my poor husband,” _© Amd Mrs. Elsmere’s voice trembled pityfully. » “Tf any one could have done’ so it was she,” Maud said, in alow tone. ‘Oh, Elsie! why are mien so hard?” she went on, passionately. “It seems that they are always ready to condemn | us,” she cig so Renk neg as ‘the thought of Mr. Thornleigh came into her mind;' indeed, the thought of him was seldom absent. , _ © A ery from the baby, who was alarmed at the sudden change in her aunt’s tones, changed the conversation, and before the subject was re- sumed, Geoffrey Elsmére came in. » Hevwas looking pile and careworn; but his face lighted visibly on seeing his sister. - “This is kind of you, Maudie!’ How did you get away, dear?” ~ “Papa had to transact some business, so I ¢alled a carriage and drove here. the remotest idea that IT am aequainted with our whereabouts, unless—” + She paused, and colored nainfully: ie “Unless what, dear?” Gooffrey asked anxi- ual: SIME LOR. 5 ; » “Tr was thinking—but he could not be so mienn!” she said, as if speaking to herself. “You know, Geotlcey, thet night when you came to Eismere, one of the visitors found ‘the ote you sent'me. He returnediti nextday.” | ~ “Who was he, Maud? Whit did he say?” ’ right to speak so, £ fT. te Ws “to her face. | _that he does not intend “ I¢ ig impossible for me to love | that struck Florence. ‘had ju He has not | He blamed me very much for deceiving mv _ father ; but. he haa no *and Faw! i ‘Maud drow herself tip ‘hanghtily.. “Tt was Mr. _Thornleigh, Geoffrey _ And in spite of herself the tell-tale color came “The fact that he returned the note shows jl . to betray us; but how came he to read it?” Geoffrey asked. |. “Tt was unaddressed. Do you remember how it ran?” Mr, Elsmere shook his, head; and Maud gave the contents verbatim. Her brother looked grave. ‘‘Maudie, my dear sister, T hope I haye not brought any additional unhappiness on, you?” he said,” earnestly. .“‘ Does Mr. Thornleigh know my unfortunate story?” _ “Of course he does! Everybody knows it. Didn’t the whole land ring with the most. tri- fling details?” , ‘That is true,” her brother returned. “But, Geoffrey,” the girl went on, after a ause, ‘‘there is.one fact I haye overlooked. e was abroad at the time. He has only been back a few months, after an absence of some length,” “Then, my dear, depend upon it he did. not know I was your brother.” Maud turned-pale as she thought for the first time of ‘the real purport of Mr. Thornleigh’s note, A sudden sickness and dizziness seized her, but she could not let these dear ones see her misery. i Perhaps so, Geoffrey ; and if so, there is no fear that he will ontigated papa.” But the cold hard tones did not deceive Mr. Elsmere. nor his wife, who sat. looking wistfully from her husband’s grave face to the pale and now careworn one of his beautiful sis- ter. ; Miss Elsmere’s stay was necessarily short, and no further allusion was made to Mr. Thorn- leigh’s mistake; but. after her.departure hus- band and wife talked the matter over, and «prayed earnestly that their darling sister might _be spared from a life of suffering through their unfortunate but never regretted union. Duriog the next few weeks Matid met) Mr. Phornleigh frequently, -Her manner: toward gentlemen was proverbially: cold; but to Mr. Thornleighshe appeared a positive iceberg. No allusion “was: madé-to.any former: intimacy. Indeed, the beautiful girlo might) never have seen him before, so little did she regard his pre- sence, Font baloo His altered appearance! was not lost upon her; but what pity could: she’ feelofor the man who ed her so. hardly? She had not thought it possible that any: man-ecouid have imputed such baseness to her; and that this man to whom. ‘she: had givenc:her: heart's’ bes’ love, should do so, filled her with most acute pain and anguish. « Yetshe could: not shut ‘him out of her heart. Strive ascshe would for peace and contentment, if would not come, and’ daily she a for the quiet of home. _ But the days dragged’ wearily by, and no ease came to the weary, heart-broken girl. id 2°49: Mr.. Thornleigh: was often seen; during the time of his stay in London, in company with Mr. Arthur Clevéland. ‘Report ‘said that’ the latter—a man of somewhere about forty ‘years of age—had become: strongly »attached to: the pane man while wandering about in foreign ands, when @ virulent fever had laid its poison- ous hand on the elder man where Jittle help could be obtained for him, and he must have ‘died but for the untiring efforts of Mr. Thorn- leigh, who in turn took the dreadful disease, but less severely than his friend had done.’ At all. events; theré was some strong sympathy between the two men, in spite of the difference of years in their age. Mr. Thornleigh was sauntering one afternoon, about the end of February, ncar the entrance to | Central Park near Fifth Avenue side, in the hope'of seeing Mrs. Brentwoo’s carriage drive past, He tried to excuse himself by thinking that he had heard one of the gentlemen at his club speak in rapturous tones of her new and elegant “‘turn-out;” but in reality be knew well that, should the much-admired ‘equipage come in sight, if would bave no attraction for him but for the pale, marble-like face that he longed to see therein, in spite of the evil things which ‘circumstances |. led him to impute to its owner. t He had passed and repassed the entrance several times, when he suddenly encountered Mtn, tleveland, who was. looking pale. and _ “Wil you come home-with me, Thornleigh? IT ath in need of advice, and perbaps: you can help me.” ; ’ “A right. But let us drive; here is acar- gett: Frigg , ee _. ge SS: A aie 6 A CS eee ee ee e riage,” Thornleigh returued, wishing to screen his friend from observation. wrk fn- less, than ten minutes the two men were seated in a room of a somewhat) nondescript character, where Mr. Cleveland spent. much of his time when in-doors, “T havea long and, painful story. to, tell: you, Thornleigh; but I, know 1.can count,on your forbearance, and it. may be that: you .can se some way out of my difficulty,” the agitate man began. ‘I. most..sincerely, bope I, may do.so. » But pray .go.on!”....... “Well, then, you. know, Thornleigh, that. I am.a widower; but. you have never heard.the history of my,marriage, It is necessary now that that history should be made known. My father was married. twice, children; but. they all, with the. solitary excep- tion of myself, died in their infancy,, You,can imagine.what, -hopes centered in me,,the son of his old age, Fron. my earliest childhood, every one who approached nie seemed to, have but one idea—that I should be impressed with a sense of my own. importance, nfortunately. for) the carrying out of my father’s bright and ambi- tious, designs with. regard to his son and heir, I was of a quiet, retiring disposition, and had no reapre for my position in, society, and ander- valued the benefits to which I wes born. My love of study was not displeasing to my father, as he hoped to see mea leader of statesmen; but. in. this, too, he was doomed to disappoint- ment. My studies had,more to do with the fine arts than with political intrigue. “It was pitiful to see how anxiously he watched my progress toward manhood; and although I. knew, how he suffered constantly at seeing me so unlike what he had hoped, I al- ways received the, utmost kindness and con- sideration, from bis hands, I spent much time in a,delightful studio which my father had caused to be fitted. with every, appliance and comfort, although he had no sympathy with my love of painting. “In the. weary years that have passed since my, father’s lavish gifts were so heaped upon me, I have often realized how selfish I was to leave:home for. weeks at a time, in search of beautiful and picturesque, scenery, while he— poor. lonely man!—was left % alone in, the solitude of Clifton Grange. e was getting very frail and infirm; but the knowledge that I had. disappointed him so greatly always chilled me in spite of his affection, and my short, so- journs at the Grange were always more or less painful to me. of sat eg ‘‘You will understand, Thornleigh, that un- der the circumstances I did not care to be recog- nized, and on that account I traveled incognito, sin ply calling myself Arthur Clifton. He had several - ‘““It_was during one of my tours that I met — with EJdith. Brownlow, a. clergyman’s orphan, who, with two little pupils, was spending a few weeks at a farm-house.on the banks of. the beautiful. Hudson,..I need not bell, you of the delightful time that followed. . “Three months later,I married the lovely governess, and took a pretty little villa resi- dence within view of the Catskills, and there spent the only happy days of my married life. ~**T told Edith, after our marriage, that my father.was wealthy, but.1 did not enlighten her as to. his, real position. She was so. entirely happy that I did not wish to trouble ber with fears concerning me. ‘‘ Three times during the next half-year I visited my father, Sometimes I felt strongly impelled to make a clean breast of it, and abide by the consequences, but the sight of my father getting gradually weaker deterred me. ‘“Why should be know that I bad, even in marrying, gone in direct opposition to his’ wishes? ‘IT took every_precaution to prevent the news from reaching him, and laid no end of plans to make it appear that I was, as usual; moving about from place to place. ‘‘My only excuse for the deception I prac- ticed was that I meant to spare my father. I had nothing to fear—in a pecuniary sense— from his anger, for even had he chosen to dis- own me, and to leave me none of his vast wealth, I still had an ample fortune bequeathed to me by my maternal grandfather. “‘T tell you this, Thornleigh, because I value — your esteem, and would not eppees, more cul- _pable in, your sight than I really was; so par- — don the digression.” sympathy, Mr. Cleveland resumed; ) |. It was abou visit.to my home that I learned that my father — had Weep eee it ms act was first — Be Leroy ‘ aut Ph t Having received an assurance of Thornleigh’s t veland resun after. my last | | |
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é ; a ¢ : # 7 "I : ‘ : éonveyéd to mé through the medium of the Gay Mab errs oe ee nk ae See “Y Nola Bdith that I had*had news of my father’s illness, and ‘would hasten home, She was in delicate health just then, or 'I should lave been inclined to ‘take ‘her to New York, and Ieave her there’ while I proceeded home- ward, but T considered that she was unfit to travel. : vo ae “She looked palé and anxious while I was reparing to depart, but tried to appear brave. told her that, as usual, she had better not write to my fathér’s house, but in case of any- thing’ special, I désired, as usual, to be written to at’ a post-office some miles from” Clifton Grange. “Just then 1 had a special horror of my af- fairs being made public, but as Edith cheerfully complied with my wishes I went away without miich fear: “Three days after m home my poor father died, ably thankful to be able to ee wrote'a few hurried lines to my wife, tell- ing her,that I should be compelled to remain away for another week, ‘so as to attend my ’s funeral. teorhere was no letter from Edith when I called at the little country post-office, so'T went quietly about the arrangements for the sad ceremony; and ‘the days went slowly and gloomily by. J “Phere was no opportunit the post-office’ again until t funeral. Hae amon “Judge, then, of my horror on finding a ; from Edith’s doctor, urging me to return a once, as my Wife was very dangerously: ill. The letter had arrived on’ the very next day to the one on which 1 had ealled ‘at the office. I was nearly frantic. During the whole of that urney I was full of remorse, My wretched, journey ' omy inn father’s dying eyes seemed to haun an mock at my misery. I think I was almost in- sane when I reached the little mountain village where I had left Edith.” ‘ Mr. Clevéeland’s utterance was almost in- audible, and his friend interposed here to induce im to pause. : mens Fr prefer pe a7 how,” he said; with ontrol himself." ont or not remeriber all that followed. I re- member somebody showed me Edith’s empty room, then her baby -gitl; from whom I turned in horror, knowing that her birth bad ‘robbed me of my darling wife. y told me how, when she first became arrival at my old and I was unutter- be with him at the for me to visit e ‘day ‘after the Bag ai i yah “his wife ; then; vife, Har child a few weeks before, took the poor new-born babe to ber home, pwoniee re oN to me of the beautifal wife [had left nota ie night before. but a newly-made grave, and in her stead'a puny, pale-faced infant. hs “T was ill for many days. Then _ child with the kind-hearted wife of the vil age doctor, and went’ back to the Grange, dnors r) arrangements for a long absence hire con 1 went to see my child fore I left Ame a, not so much because I had a desire to wohl as that something hte of necessity obliged ting ber, , : eT had ab intention now of proclaiming any miserable ‘story. Society gossip was Agee hateful to me; now more so than ever. ze that the child had ‘taken to’ the friend ry re chance had put in our way, and as the i of was very poor, getting onty a scanty liveli é : for his kindly-administered services, for. people among whom he practiced were oar the offer I made to the kind-hearted coup # » keep the child for a liberal allowance was gla l eee tie doctor, under promise of meitecy, that Clifton was not my aname oe ris- tened Arthur Clifton, you know ane isc sed, to his amazement, my name and sey soi Thee faithfully be respecisy ony attar ten. years 0 oun: my cost. When, ea wandertie over greater part: of the inhabited of foreign ways, and came M M d P b h boy f Al MINISTERING ANGEL, my — aw -“The rector to whom I applied was under : the impression that she had gone to Brooklyn, or somewhere in that part of Long Island; but he was ratiier an eccentric: character, and not very much given to trouble bis head about his parishioners. He remembered the widow and her little girl’ quite well, he said. They used to sit in the pew next the one where his: sisters ised to have. ‘sittings’ before they were mar- ried ‘and went away. That was all he could tell me. ‘““T advertised for months in all the leading pers and visited town after: town, takin Broskiyss as the starting point, but with no re- sult save continued failure: ‘* Thornleigh; I cannot tell you how wretched T have been all these 'years. Abroad and at home ny wife’s sweet face seems: to’ haunt my dreams and urge me to find our child. I am perfectly sincere when T tell you that I would willingly forfeit’ my inheritance to find my little daughter. wept ys for the first time, I have learned more of her history. I was looking at the brilliant crowd who were thronging the: park, when suddenly a woman touched my arm. I looked at her rather absently, but was roused by her query—‘I am not mistaken, I believe; you are Mr, Arthur Clifton? ‘‘In a moment the truth dawned on me, “¢¢ And you are Mrs. Barton. Where is my child? I asked, eagerly. ; » “* That, sir, I cannot tell; but will you walk this way, and I will tell you all I know,’ she added. And in spite of the numb feéling that seized me as she spoke, I noticed that she was pale and trembling. ‘* As soon as she had moyed away from the throng of loiterers, Mrs. Barton told me the sequel to what I bad learned on my return to New York, ten years ago. ‘*On the death of her husband, she had been quite at a loss to know how to act. She had never sought to: force her husband’ to. betray r. Clifton’s: confidence; and he: had never given her any account of what had transpired in making arrangements with me. The only ref- erence he had ever made to my position was when hé one spoke of the child’s education: ‘If her fathér does not claim her before she is old enough to go to'school, she must be sent to one of the very highest class. The liberal settle- ment Mr. Clifton made shall be spent to fit her for her future life. Weshall never regret the step, Tam sure,’ ‘That was all she knew; but it was sufficient to help her in deciding when, without a mo- ment’s warning, her husband was taken from her, her adopted child should be sent to school; and in order to increase her means the widow moved, not to Brooklyn but to Astoria, where she had remained for séveral years. en, when Elsie came home from school, her health seamed to fail, and Mrs. Barton removed to Newport. While there she met, fell in love with, and married the’ brother of one of her schoolfellows. The strangest part of the. busi- ness is that her husband turns out to be that fine young fellow whom the elder Geoffrey Els- mere disinherited two or three years ago for forming a mesalliance.” © Royal Thornleigh stared rather ee ‘“T think I misunderstood you,” he said, ina uzzled tone. ‘ Whom did Mr, Elsmere disin- erit?” ‘“Why, don’t you remember?—but perhaps you didn’t notice the newspaper accounts, and you must have been abroad, Young Geoffrey Elsmere—as fine a young fellow as any on this side of the ocean or the other either, for the matter of that—met with a pretty little music- te:cher at Newport, fell desperately in love and married her, and was in consequence disin- herited. But what is the matter, Royal, my ? “Tf what you say is true—and I feel it is so— I have committed a most fatal blunder,” ae) Thornleigh said; ‘but let me hear the end of your story.” lobe, T: felt SreHty fea any jd and settle | returned to her from the ‘Dead Letter Office.’ back’intending to claim my cbild an As soon as sbe could do so, the ‘poor lady came tn A re ieatest idee PD we | $0 New York, and went to als where ee Ye Ben den cears~ | young Hlsmere had obtained empl , tintbe g00d doctor had Peer ad tly und | mystery was solved then: the firm bad failed, roma bis gig auld killed instentiy—wnd | mystery was solved eee a vob apply to ber in their need. But where were | ‘where she could keep + « * 4 : aan as % at : ' _ » § FM te Pe ede a * CHAPTER, VI, ireagdi a3} BACK TO HIS OWN. | 9. « isi “IT HAVE contrived to get away from my aunt’s whirl of pleasure, you see, Elsie,” Mand Elsmere said, blithely, as she entered the shab- by little sitting-room where her sister-in-law sat sewing busily, while with one foot she kept her baby’s cradle in motion. Eo ‘You are very good, dear, to leave such at- tractions,” Mrs. Elsmere said, as she rose and folded the delicate satin work she was embroi- dering, and for which she er ane to receive a couple of dollars after hours of patient work. ‘* Attractions! I am_ sick of them, mean the continual round of gayety! An hour spent here is worth a dozen elsewhere!” “Then I ought to be content,” Elsie said wi asmile, ‘*‘How I wish Geoffrey He will be so disappointed if he does not sée you, and I feel sure he will come home with the same story of failure.” And the gr igen g , sighed . “He is almost out of hea Mand, I feay.” i aetkregst wt “I wish there was no need for this hateful verty!” Miss Elsmere said, vehemently, ‘Wo rt it bea r lief if. you, could prove that. Mrs, Barton’s idea respecting. your bii -was not a falseione?” pari. ene eo “Tt is of no use to think of it more, soa edtnort weary of S xy are Neverthele , to please me, dear, you w Tam scarcely justified in saying | if you. would come. pe hh Sea ed i re Po ne : ; ve! = a" ~~? 7 15 em, i. Se ye ee I A ene te ae eee Bie High — 7 ss iad ow A he > ee, y Sa et Let o* Pa ae Bat Loy. a Oa ta%
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wz 4 SS my servant's méssage. I have the honor of address- “You are quite right; there is no mistake,” Mr. Cleveland returned, as he warmly grasped Geoffrey’s hand, ** excepting in the supposition A glance at you that my name is Arthur At this moment Elsie returned. Her. lovely face was pale, and fear of some kind made her “Geoffrey, did I hear you say it wasalla mistake?” she asked fearfully, going to her hus- ‘‘ There is no doubting that you are my Edith’s ** Even the look of fear that was on my poor wife’s face when I eh ss » £ Pant ; = > hs ar J of ~s 2 cee f i ‘ : / arth . 4 ¢ i b as 8 A a = ——s- not mind referring to it just this once,” Maud ey - said, as she knelt by her sister’s side, and | ing the Hon. Mr. Cleveland, I believe?” _._ passed one arm around her waist. ‘Did you is not tell me that, although’ you were always my called ‘ Barton,’ you were married in the name oa borne by your father?” that 1 am not Mr. Arthur Clifton. a, ‘Yes, dear. His name was Clifton—Arthur | my card will show 4 Clifton, But, Maudie, why do you ask?” And | Clifton Cleveland.’ og! ‘Mrs. Elsmere looked searchingly into the beauti- Mike ful face that now wore itsrare softened expres- e sion. look ill. ) **l fancy, Elsie—I hope I may not be wrong, --—sébut I think L have found out something that may help you to discover the truth. If so, that noc- | band’s side. turnal visit of Geoffrey’s to Elsmere has been But her father took her in his, arms. + productive of some good after all.” ef Mrs. Elsmere did not speak. Sheclasped her | child,” he said, hoarsely. fe hands on her lap, and looked mutely at her companion. ‘*T will not keep you in suspense, dear. A gentleman has been recognized by Mrs. Barton asthe Mr. Arthur Clifton who left yo? in:her Reh care. He bas searched for you'for years, and =e ‘at length fancied you must be dead. From : what your adopted mother told him he learned : that you had married my brother. He is a wealthy man, Bisie,: moving in good society, and told his story te Mr. Thornleigh, who then ets knew that it was my brother who met me + -geeretly;'so your father came to me with the story, and asked’ to know of your where- abouts.” But Elsie did not hear the last few words, and her husband, coming in a moment later, was alarmed tosee her lying ina fainting state, with Cia her head on Maud’s shoulder. F _ “ Lift ber to the couch, Geoffrey: There, that ah is better!’ Do not be frightened, dear brother; sbe will soon be all right. It was joy that over- came her; thank Heaven! Not sorrow this time, ae dear, dear Geoffrey. I believe all will be well Brother and sister were, in the mean time, trying to restore the young wife: to conscious- ness. Very soon they succeeded, but not before Mr. Elsmere had heard the news of ‘Mr. Clif- _ ton’s” existence. Mr. Cleveland had enjoined - Miss Elsmere not to speak of him by his real name, so she simply said- that his family was + yee ‘as Old and wealthy as her own, and that - my Eismere’s pride would therefore be satis- “T hope, now, that papa will cancel all the new arrangements, and bave you home again, Geoffrey. But if he does not, the old life of poverty will be ended. Elsie is ber father’s only _ ehild; and the heiress to his great wealth.” And Maud turned away for a moment to lift her yr owe w from his tiny bed. © “When will my father come?” Elsie asked, when she was sufficiently recovered to speak. “> “ As soon as you will see bim, This evening, ifhe may.” — : + ‘©Oh, yes, Maudie; let him come! You do not know what thisis to me, dear, Think bow many years I have waited for bis coming!” o)*] know; Hisie, dear little sister. Rest as- -stired that he will lose no’time when ‘he knows ‘that I have prepared you for his visit.” ~ Soon afterward Miss ‘Elsmere left the mean, unfashionable part of the metropolis, and drove ge the more aristocratic locality where Mrs. Brentwood’s mansion stood. Before even- eS Fs ee Bot cue Lee So Se > the os 79 “4 ing she had communicated with Mr. Cleveland, _ ‘who'was waiting impatiently for his daughter’s : summons. ~ Tf you please, sir, a gentleman is asking to ‘see Mr. and Mrs. Elsmere, His name is Clifton. left her has been transmitted to you. I hope it is not permanent, my child.” It did not take long to convince bim that he need have no fears on that head. Elsie Elsmere’s radiant loveliness had no tinge of fear or sor- row as she welcomed her father,, And his heart seemed filled to. overflowing as again and again he shook his son-in-law’s hand, and then. turnaed again to look at E’sie and her boy, “You have been proud, of, his. name, Miss Elsmere told me,” he said, smilingly, with a nod toward his grandson; ‘‘ but. you may be rouder yet, for he is heir to all my possessions, Isie. Did you think of that?’ J ‘* No; dear father; and I do not wish to think of him as he may be some day, but as he isnow, son, of. the best. husband, and grandson of the dearest father in Christendom.” ..' CHAPTER VIL ° ““ DOWN THE SHADOWY LANE SHE GOS.” HERBERT HILTON’s recovery—or, rather, his strength+seemed .somewhat tardy; but at the beginning of March: he \be- gan to think’ seriously of returning. to bis military. duties: He. should. be. more like- ly to regain something of. his, old healthy tone’ when. he had to go through the: rou- tine of the duties of his office; he told himself; and much as his mother, and. sister. wished to keep him with them, they were wise enough to yield to his. wishes, and consider: bim, sensible in urging his doctor to, pronounce him fully restored to health. He had only three days to remain at home when an event a emi | that. changed the whole course of his | life—namely, the accidental drowning of John Hilton and his son; the latter perisbing in a noble attempt.to rescue his father, who had:gone out boating on the pretty little bay that could beseen from the windows of the fine old mansion where the Hiltons had lived for two or three generations and, with a friend who was spending a few days at his house, rowed out of the shelter of the harbor and. got acquisition. of upset. Young Hilton, who’ had been: watching the course of his father’s small craft forsome time, put out in the only available vessel at. hand—a poor, rickety pléasure-boat, that had long been abandoned as unseaworthy. He contrived to row across the smooth water of the harbor, but when the open sea was reached, his frail boat soon filled with water; and some lads; who-had by this time become aware of what was going on, soon Jooked in vain for the brave young fellow who,/as they supposed; had expected, if his own boat failed, to be able to reach the one in which his father had:gone out: ; Three bodies were washed: ashore.the same evening, among: the loud wailings of: the villa- gers, who had for hours been:using every effort to rescue the unfortunate men: bs In young Hilton the poor had lost a friend; and though his’/father was no favorite, his death had come so suddenly that his virtues were for once more thought of than his faults. The only other immediate relatives of John Hilton were: bis nephew and: niece;» Florence and Herbert Hilton, and in defaultoof any rm disposition of the property itiall went to eM | 2sire Everybody had seen. Herbert Hilton when, a year before, young Hilton had induced: his father to invite him over/for a few weeks; and although Jordan. the family lawyer, had no knowledge as to Herbert’s address, there was no difficulty in. communicating: with the young. gentleman at official quarters.» . ' Herbert sorrowful regret for the loss of»life that had brought him a fortuneand thankfulness that he had not received it previous to hisrejection by ; Millington. 5 iw Juve - boad ainda He was too sincere in his regard for his cousin a: cad MAY 4 oe bp oooh » “e ? ast tee ae of’ i wes 4 . % Pp rai & = te » YS aatee aa 6 By SAO ae Hilton’s feelings were:a mixture of. a a Fee, ee . ay 4 7 , ’ ‘MINISTERING ANGEL, _ | to have any feelings of gratification, and for a time he felt that the position he was so suddenly called to occupy was an irksome.one. That was owing, in a great measure, to the poor state of his health. , Under the circumstances, it was incumbent on him to proceed to the house of mourning, where be remained until the remains of the un- fortubate men were interred. Much would hove ‘to: be. done before. the new owners could settle down in their new home. Arrangements had to, be made for resigning his commission, so, for.a few weeks, Herbert considered it advisable to remain quietly at his mother’s. unpretending «welling. The widow was so attached to her old home that she had no wish to leave it, excepting on her son’s and daughter's account. ‘] should, infinitely prefer to remain here if, after a time, you take to yourself a: wife, my dear,” she said, a few, days after the news had come of the sad catastrophe. Herbert was. silent. for awhile, and when he spoke again it was on another. subject. Soon afterward he had an opportunity. of speaking privately to Florence. ‘* You heard what.my mother;said about my marriage, Florrie? I want your.advice, dear. How fortunate I was in getting through that wretched business at.,E]smere, before I heard this parsr: i got Pa ‘* L-expeet that the mogney-loying young la will not Peel quite so thankful,” Flove ce said, with a laugh, ° “I cannot think bow she could have been.soinsane,” the, girl went.on with a loving look at ber brother. ‘ It seems to. me that any girl might.deem -berself, fortunate in winning your love, Herbert.” ,. . And certainly there wassome excuse for Miss Hilton’s admiration of her brother, whose affec- tion for, her, and. tenderness for.his invalid mother, proved that his character. well accord- ed witb his handsome Speer ise, “Yon are almost-as.. bad as my mother, I de- elare!”-he rejoimed,, with a smile... ‘It is quite time for you to.seemore of your fellow-mortals, Florrie, It is only by comparison with others that: we find.our own level. But, dear sister, I want to tell you of what isin my heart. . I will not act on impulse this time, but I, have seen one, who, if Icould only win ber,.has all the qualities that I should wish for in. my wife; but, Florrie, this time I have had no encour- agement,” “Are you thinkin Florence asked, eagerly. could. be! you might learn to love her.” , “But, Florence, that is not the question now. I am getting impatient to know if, she could love. me. ,J fancied once—; But no!, her manner was less cordial at the end of my stay at The Willows than, it was on the first evening of our acquaintance,” it ay ae “Might not the change,arise from the knowl- edge sbe must have possessed -of your. infatua- tion for. Miss . Millington?” lorence . sug- gested, Pant ‘“ Which presupposes, Florrie, that.she would beinfluenced from some. preference for myself, does it not?, .But.I bave no such hope.” His sister hesitated. between, her desire to en- courage ber brother and her wish. to act honor- able by Eva. ‘* Would it not be.as well to settle the sus- pense at once by going to Eva.with.a straigbt- forward question?’ she said....“‘,1..would not goungel you thus, Herbert, but 1, know ;that Eva is, worthy of your love, and. that, mamma would like to feel that you are. comfortably and panes settled,” ' ‘¢{ have suffered so for my .temerity, once that I am naturally d.fiident_now,” Hert ert said, witha nervous Jaugb,, ‘‘ One obstacle has been removed—my lack of wealth,” he went on gravely, ‘so perhaps, L.ought to feel, encour- aged.» But, Florence, she is so incomparably my superior in every respect that—”....., ‘* Phat you will, be doing us all a kindness by bringing such a. frearure into. our. home,” bis sister interrupted. ‘‘Do be sensible, Herbert, and. remember that if is due to Eva that she should have an. opportunity of accepting your love.” > ; re “Then I will go, Florrie. My. mother need not know anything of this until d return. She will naturally suppose I ba‘ ¢ plenty of business cf Eva; Walsingham? ‘* Ob, Herbert! if it [have been hoping.so much that n on hand just now,and:I should, not like her to know that am suffering any disappointment if fail, y gaed. heds5! I : Ob fue : |.“ Very. well, rt; but, remember there is to bono talk of faire 45 ous toon wrbak ai 3a old wiseacre I nd. I prophesy your 1 umphant return.” : TK a. a, Sand | a
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| » in which unsbed tears glistened, and inquired; ea, ae RES —— —— “Tam going into the Janes to find some wild- flowers ot whic 3; pe sure that papa will be lad to see evidences of his return to country ife after three weeks’ stay in town, What do yousay, mamma?” me “T think that you are right, as usual, my dear. How thankful I shall be to see your papa at home again! It seems to me that we are uite cut off from the world during his absence, nly look at that great pile of newspapers, all unopened!” ; : ; “Well, mamma, it, will be so much nicer to listen to papa’s and he will be yory, long, took a fane and went quiekly out in quest of the pretty ing blossoms, ¥ ween oe not long in filling her basket with bunches of. dark purple, violets, clusters of pale anemone, and sprays of the beautiful green leaves, together with delicate ‘lady ferns; for wild-flowers and pretty grasses and ferns w in rich Srirted the well-sheltered lanes. So Eva’s task was.soon completed, and she sat down for a.moment to. see that her treasures were securely placed, when a entleman came in sight round a_ bend in the lane only a few yards distant. For a moment she did not re- cognize him, for, he was attired in. black; but suddenly the bright. color that dyed her face and ea | proved that she knew and felt inter- ested in him, .. She rose hurrivaly a Hh ad to.see y f she ion ovith a determination to be calm, “But, 1 fear, Mr. Hilton, you, are not strong yet. "Have you lost—is all well at home?” with is dress. a gl Yes, ie ‘you;” and Herbert’s face began to resume .its.ordinary hue, for something in Eva’s manner ied him to hope that she was not so indifferent as.he, had feared., ve lost some relatives—tather and son—by accidenta rt Hil Ne “cage very sorry,” Eva _ said, simply. “Were y.ou.on very; intimate terms?’ “Yes, with the son—my cousin—especially ; and his death has cast a.cloud, over, my poor mother. , But. let us forget that now. 0 you know that I have come here on purpose to see rou? at id a has not returned from the city et ee a, misunderstanding the young ale use of the pronoun; “but we expect him ; Th a ’ wot hen be will be. in.time to answer the ques- tion I hope to refer to him—that is, with your ie ete ission, Eva.” dt Pett Weis the first time he had ever so addressed and extended her hand. able to walk, so well,” ‘*T have lost mene | ‘on quick, hurried, tioning ve one quick hurried, ques By inte the face she had loved so pba Mi and the reaction of feeling. was 50 intense na tears shone for a moment in her beautitu me C ou forgive ay e, Eva dear?, Can you forget the koe eae hich was enchanted. by the Eve ter of a false gem, instead of by the purity fi the real one?, Tell me; dearest, that, the ge Bs ness you have shown me has not seree ron dislike. Can you promise hy en pape ia The love e $ SO. pn that I think if must gain a response Perna fair face was bent over the beayticul flowers, and Eva listened to her jover’s words without interruption; then she lifte “b il quite sure pret fi man love twice? And was ven to Miss Millington ” became pale and anxious. gene en then, because I believed that the girl possessed. the qualities which I most ad- ap men, and without which it mppld be impossible forme. to give my love. 1 aie i etty exterior covered a “e een, i ) af "discern between true “may you nob, be not read what is in pat there is hope for ld, be Gehan, Have y xt, _ % ‘ oes « ees sae? tae nek —/ 4 i > . » -~ ee eA Ly Pete : ge co. Wiese eee vs - Eek “ ye rofusion along the banks that, ; tleman . Glevaland 3 but. | on ask Pate a ile 3 MINI love of my heart is yours, Herbert. I thought the anguish of those sad weeks would have killed me; but-worst of all was the shameful reflection that I had given you my love un- ed. “Thank Heaven you did so, darling! But for that it would not be mine now. Remember, Eva, my love, that tha true love which. knits our hearts together is heaven-born. You could pot control the feelings of your heart, dear, al- though you so skillfully managed to make me feel that I was re to you: I longed. to speak. of my love in those days of returning health, buf your manner repelled me.” ‘‘T am thankful that it did so, dear Herbert. I should hate myself had I been unwomanly enough to betray what I felt, until you had yourself spoken.” : : . The ima passed quickly by, and still the lovers ingered,. We really must be sensible, Herbert!” Eva said, laughingly, when an hour had passed in happy forgetfulness of all save themselves. “Mamma will be imagining all sorts of horrors in connection with me; and besides, I want, to arrange papa’s favorite flowers before. his re- turn,’ So Herbert was obliged to acquiesce, and, ten minutes later, the lovers entered the grounds that belonged to The Willows. Mrs. Walsingham welcomed Herbert politely; but he could not help feeling that there was a lack of cordiality. in. her manner, as she glanced uneasily from her. daughter’s beautiful shy face to Herbert’s calmly serene one. She mentally hoped that “that penniless, handsome. young officer.” would not come too often in contact with her lovely and wealthy daughter. Bnt the worthy lady’s prejudice vanished an hour later, with her husband’s first, words, **Halloo, Herbert! Or, Mr. Hilton, I suppose I should say! How delighted I am to have this opportunity, of congratulating you! A. sad business, that boating disaster. . But.such is the way of the world... ‘ The king is dead; God save the king!’ you know.” Eva looked as astounded as her mother; but it was the latter who spoke. “T declare, Mr. Hilton, you: are too bad. Why did you not say that the Joss of your rela- tions had altered your position? fyi ‘*T feel their loss—my cousin’s especially—too greatly to allow me to rejoice as I. otherwise should at my good fortune,” Herbert said, gravely. ‘‘ But, madam, and you, my dear sir, I should like to say now what I wish to tell you. I have been kept hitherto from asking you.to give me your daughter’s hand, because I feared to ask her to give herself to a poor man; but now.that difficulty is removed—and_ sir, we iGye, Son other dearly—will you give her to me ‘‘Eh?—what? My little Eva? Bless m soul!” the old gentleman said, in amazement, while his daughter put,her arms round his neck, ‘““So you are agreed!” he-went on with a laugh,, by_which .to.cover the misty look of his, eyes and suspicious quivering of his lips. ‘‘ Well, then, it’s useless to say nay, I suppose! Take her, Hilton. I have a good opinion of you, or would not hand her over to 2% in spite of her wish to run.away from her old father,” All hearts were full; but it was a happy fam- ily circle that slept under the roof of The Wil- lows that night. ; CHAPTER VII. SACRIFICED THROUGH PRIDE. Tr was not often that Mr. Elsmere went to the theater, but he had always expressed a wish to see Booth as Hamlet, to be able to compare that great actor’s merits with those of Forrest in the same character. for once during his visit to New York he foun himself again sitting ‘before the curtain,” with a curious sense of having gone back to the old days, when with bis beautiful bride he had frequented similar places, and had been a great lover of the drama. But the lovely girl by his side was_very un- like bis.companion of days gone by, .He closed his eves for a moment, and pictured that long- lost face.. How hé remembered it as it bent in Mr tite | the “whom all eyes were ? Mr, Cleveland was paying her great attention; but be. coul ; f \ . , Lar) " ~ ah ie ; 4 ; + ie See ee he glnk Sy, Sergi i he TV Ie bot STERING ANGEL. oi | of that. He was dazed and stupefied. . Thus if came to pass, |. ‘““You must try to fizd me some appoint- __ _| Ment,” he stipulated; ‘1 gore j livea life of ‘idle dependence.” gare And Mr. Cleveland was well content to use : vel?’ . m 4 d " a ak Aa Bs Llane eae PES sone mee. Te OS a a his. ‘Son-inlaw, lifted iis Ss rae uh Ud | “So, dilsie became the acknowledged mistress of = * not be thinking of ‘‘ making love to her, sure- «© ly.” Certainly not; at any rate, his chance of success would be small, for another and youn- ger gentleman was bending over her, sayin something in a low voice, and her glorious eye were raised to his with an expression in them that eyes only take when looking at the face ee eben se + uddenly the younger gentleman lifted his head and in that moment Mr. Elsmere recog- nized his wife’s darling boy. The play was commencing, but Mr. Elsmere could not think “Papa, dear, this heat is overpowering,” Maud’s voice said softly, ‘‘ Will you take me out?” ‘Did you speak, my dear? Take you cut? Yes, dear, I thought it was cold.” Ard Maud saw with concern how white he had be- ie come. ‘‘Let us go home, child; I—I am cold and faint.” j The carriage would not bein attendance fcr some. time; but several gentlemen were anxious to be of service, so a back was called, and Mr, Elsmére was soon left in company with his : daughter, to go quietly home to Mrs. Brent- woed’s mansion. + ry ‘What .does it mean, Maude?” her father i asked, as the gentlemen returned to their seats in the theater. ; ea ‘*Tt means, dear was born, > papa, that prorrey? wife _ quite correct in fancying herself well- bre Sbe hes lately been restored to her fa- ther,,. tbe Hon, Mr. Cleveland, whose. heiress Yin she is, and who is proud of his lovely. daughter Ms. and her noble-hearted husband. Thebaby,too, 4 is a perfect treasure to its grandfather,” _ te Mr. Elsmere started slightly. when the child a was mentioned. hee en ae “Ts it a boy?” he asked, with eyes fixed on the carriage window. ‘yiicsek a ee “Yes, a... He is.called Geoffrey, and is — \ very like that pictureof mamma. You know, — pa a Pet % 4h There was no answer. gyhpeesdh cert tt ; Maud nestled closer to his side. She feared — to speak; yet, perhaps, she would never have so good an opportunity. .Her voice was trenu- Jous.when she commenced, ‘‘Papa, dear, won't you forgive him now—poor Geoffrey, of whom ~~ mamma was so fond? You see, papa, he did not marry, beneath him, after all; and his in- be stincts were not, at fault in recognizirg true gold, for Elsie is a thorough lady. in all respects. You could judge for yourself, papa, this eyen- She waited patiently for a reply. It was some minutes before it came. _- Ah Neate “The fault is none the less grievous because circumstances bave‘made the penalty less severe. _ I admit that it is more gratifying toknow that = Geoffrey Elsmere’s wife isalady than a poor ignorant music-teacher; but that my—that he married without knowing whom he marrié Any. feelings on th TAS ee and without any regard for subject, is sufficient to prove him unworthy of =~ my consideration,” ' ray te ‘But, papa—” Miss Elsmere began, ees “That wiil do, Maud. Here we are at nome, ae I do not. choose to discuss the matter further.” And Mr. Elsmere set bis teeth firmly together to ea under coyer of bis heavy mustache. eee So the hope of reconciliation which had heen _ so strengthened by her, father’s emotion died © out of Miss Elsmere’s heart, and she went to | her room sadly dispirited, longing, earnestly that she might soon return to the seclusion of. Elsmere, instead. of daily mixing with the Rae ny barr A a everything was so. ibtie mM unison wit ser Weary, di rs ae heart. = HeapRointed sae j ; . : : a . Mr. Cleveland gave a grand ball in bonor of a 8, NOL suddenly — opened to receive bim; but his father-in-law would not be content tolet his daughter go. |. * at anxious to re my Think how T have : influence to find a Government post for bis Ae . - 1 oy a
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ie dil atid | { ber fathér’s house, and ‘a ball was to be given for the beautiful young heiress to issue invita- tions to those members of society who had al- ‘eady received her with open arms. — Mr. Elsmere made no abjecnon when Maud mentior od to him that Mrs. Brentwood was de- _ + sirous that she should accompany her ‘to «Mr. Cleveland’s, ; And Maud was anxious to be near her sister- in-law: for report had said that the two girls _. had. always, been on good terms, and Maud ‘hoped that her presence would tend to turn the Bs popular notion concerning her father’s implaca- 2; pinty., Z : Hor enjoyment of Geoffrey’s society was the _ ghief attraction of the evening, and many of the gentlemen who had seen Miss Elsmere’s eg demeanor £ Several preceding balls were ; astonished at her sweetness on that evening, an when, for the first time, she was meeting her : brother openly. Had not i -_-g¢ene, she might have, for a time, forgotten her : Sat troubles. He was late in arriving, and Royal Thornleigh appeared on the Lek g laud was not aware of his presence for some /’ time. Then the smiles left her face again, and __. she forgot to be gracious. , ar “The time was very weary after that, until Geoffrey contrived to take her away quietly into a cosey little room, sk ' “Elsie says you looked tired, dear, and so I am to smuggle you off to a quiet nook.” — And Maud was glad of the ‘soft light in the deserted littlé room. Her brother left her to fetch her a glass of wine, and she sunk wearily into a chair. cures op eh : .. * You are very thoughtful, dear Geoffrey,” she said, without looking up, when a moment later, she beard steps proseiug to her side. LY. foolish mistake be forgotten?” “ T ave over-tired myself late , and this disap- ae _.. “You are making a mistake now, Mr. Thorn- Cae plist, she said, coldly, as she rose to her feet. «Tam Miss Elsmere, and am not aware of any - ‘@ircumstance that can by any means’ be con- verted into an excuse for the manner in which Rae.” ha ee resumed to address me. ‘You will therefore have the goodness—” _. _ “ And for one foolish blunder—a blunder that wee paighe have had the sense to avoid—are we to Pot He de miserable?” he asked, in tones of deep- —)™ aie oo pees 3 ‘e Sm ag intment about papa—’ ‘““Maud, dearest, it is not Geoffrey. Will you not welcome mé instead of him, and let my . ‘Really, my dear sir,”—and she laughed Goodll iy imagine you have been he Sah me tragic rehearsal! By what ingenious” rse of re pobing bave you ‘contrived to as- gure yourself that Tam to be made miserable? “iy Me resence here to-night is a proof that I am . nea: whee ta than I have been for years; ar BO, "ay, under no apprehension on my ac- sae : ea ; 9 ju persist in misunderstanding me,” Royal Thornleigh said, sadly. ‘‘You know ‘that L refer to the note that I wrote to you con- : sipitg your meeting with your brother.” _ “In which I believe you expressed your dis-. ‘approval of my conduct? a ut still you are _ blundering. ‘I simply regarded your censure as an unwarrantable piece of presumption. And, _ now, all that need be said has been said, I be- lieve, and I should feel obliged if you would kindly leave me before my brother returns.” “But, Maud, 1 must say it, if I die!” he ex- imed, paespeately ‘You must have known when you read that rote that I did not know your brother had been one to come— Aa “Silence, Mr. Thornleigh! Have you the udacity. to tell me to my face that I met a—a— Foo yens! And you ask me to pardon an insult so outrageous!” “How was I to dream of the existence of ur brother? Do be reasonable, Miss Elsmere, Rie listen to what I wish to say.” ; ey Papa Hic m6; there is ae Does a aes _ _ Ah, Geoffrey; how long you have been ‘a abetas e Let ents of bein The hero of a romantic e-story |” hesaid, withalaugh. ‘Mr. Cleve- is asking for you, Thornleigh,” he added, appearing to notice that young man’s ‘notilet her know at present th He rater sy, little as “fay | te to Lee toshow up { , ea | j ‘4 te BT) - Pf ary Al ad 2 wl =, sy See OP e Z SS, Grae Nprpainr ip cneaccehs (|, Saban RN Nat My a ft tite @ tapek ot itement ‘The cites she | e haup els ae Ee a ar a Sh Pe yi Ws a Site A) sae gle) SOP See ne. JA Weer oe. ee ad ral | at Dy, Re Pig ees TRS oie ad Mes een OY + «d ae wad > + sin = Be eas € ee x i fa aa aA a? \ ee ‘ stg? may oe ON got oe yoaeng ns a ee au r 2 y X ‘ : “ s] ‘ 1 “Ege rs] , fee OT ii é aa ; ae chiens Ab - Fue Moy PY en i Fe, ‘ - ° all our sakes, and now I have done all that is needful,” sajna ee eae “9 4 “Maudie, dear sister, forgive me! Isn’t there more behind? Don’t'let a myth spoil your life, dear sister;” and he litted her tace and kissed her tenderly. ~ : “My life will not be spoiled if papa will only welcome Baby Geoffrey to Elsmere,” ‘she’ an- swered lightly. ‘‘ Now see about the carriage; there’s a dear fellow.” Ten minutes later she was whirling ‘home- ward; and amid the rumble of wheels came her brother’s entréaty, now seeming like & warning, “Don’t let'a myth spoil your life.” ' CHAPTER IX. A MIND DISEASED. THE Elsmere church bells were ringing gayly, and many groups of people in holiday attire, were talking of the wedding that hed just taken lace; for, on this warm September day, Eva alsingham had become Mrs. Hilton. “The wedding had been talked of for weeks, and the country people had been quite excited at the preparations. ow that the ceremony is over, little knots to discuss the event. “No oné, not even the bride herself, looked lovelier than. our young lady,” one of the Hls- mere neighbors remarked; ‘‘ but it’s my opinion she’s too lovely to remain’ here much longer. wish somebody would give a hint. It seems to me folks never’see what is going on under their ? they form in very eyes, and Mr, Elsmere doesn’t seem to notice that anything is wrong.’ Tt was quite true. Maud Elsmere was greatly changed, and yet her father seemed perfectly unconscious ‘of the fact. She and Florence Hil- ton had formed one of the three couples at Eva’s wedding, and her father had noticed with pride her delicate loveliness, shown to advantage by the creamy satin dress she wore. It was cer- tainly a tired-looking face that looked smilingly into his when the last slipper had been hurled after the carriage that carried the bridal pair away. “Do you feel equal to the evening’ party, Maud, my child? You are looking very tired,’ he said, as she leaned on bis arm. * Sea Mrs. Walsingham would excuse me, I should like to go home,” she replied, wistfully. ‘But T'fear she will. feel hurt.” — ; To Mr. Elsmere’s’ surprise, when the pro- posal was. made a few minutes later, the lady remarked: ve ; ewe ities ‘‘Poor dear! I was afraid it would be too much forher, Certainly we will excuse her, although we will miss her lovely face.” “ And they are getting more scarce now,” he. replied with a smile, remembering how the roung bride had. been present at every ball in the neighborhood sincé his return to it, ‘‘But, my dear madam, why do you speak so seriously about Maud? She does not strike you as looking ill, does she?” ““T have fancied that she has looked delicate since your stay in town, I suppose she was over-fatigued during the season. But I expect- ed that a few weeks at home would set her up again. Does she ever complain?’ ‘“No; but now I think seriously of the mat- ter, she has not been so ready for active amuse- ments lately _and she really does look tired out to-day,” Mr. Elsmere said, an expression of anxiety deepening on his face, ‘* Perhaps the heat has been too much,” Mrs. Walsingham remarked; for although that lady bad wondered at his obtuseness concerning Miss Elsmere’s evident weakness, she was inclined to gloss the matter over now that his perceptions. were awakened. ‘* But the heat did not affect her so last year; and she uséd to be equal to a little pleasant ex- citement,” Mr. Elsmere exclaimed, “I am convinced that there is something wrong, and I will have advice at once.” Very tenderly the anxious father hovered around his darling for the rest of the day. She, laughing, tried to. dissuade him from his pur- pose of sending for a doctor.’ — “He will tell you 1 am giving way to idle- ness,” she said, nervously, for in reality she dreaded the ordeal of seeing him, “I am not in pain, dear papa; and.very probably Doctor Wilson will think we are making a fuss about nothing.” .. “ar ~“T hope he may, my dear, Anyway, I am quite determined that he hall see you fo-mor- roy. ay penaroney 7 MR ay the morrow worked hers ril rived, hér face was flushed and her hands’ burn- “You, are too warm in this’ close room, are you not?” the keen-eyed little man asked, know- ing that she was not really so.” “On the contrary, Tam feeling quité chilled. I''was wondering’ if the weather had grown colder since yesterday,” Maud returned;'as she moved her hand restlessly’on' the back’ of her favorite dog. ; ip The doctor was in no hurry to leave the Hall. Mr; Elsmere arid he were on good terms, and he! pretended to be remaining for a friendly chat, when, in reality, he wanted to notice his patient. He was a shrewd man; and having learned from her father that Maud’s dépression had com- menced about the time of her stay in New York, he fancied that perhaps the sudden return of Geoffrey Elsmere into society had something to do with her low spirits. Might she not fear that her father would be influenced to recall his son, who had become so great a favorite with society, and so make an alteration in her position’ at Elsmere? That was the only solution he could find to the diffi- culty, unless there was some unfortunate love- affair; and how could the beautiful heiress of Elsniere be unfortunate in that respect? Mr. Elsmere walked outa little way with the ductor when the interview with Miss’ Eismere was over, “There is something on her mind, Mr. Els- mete, and unless some means can be found to relieve her distress, I cannot do much ‘for her. She bas a good constitution, but it has suffered great havoc from some mental strain, I do not wish to pry into her private business, but I am under the impression that trouble of some kind is at the root of the mischief. Can you see any way out of the difficulty, Mr. Elsmere?’ And Doctor Wilson looked earnestly at his com- pariion’s anxious face. Recor “J fear not,” was the answer. “I do not know of any trouble that could so affect her.” But even as he spoke the thought of her grief at. the persistent refusal to be reconciled to bis son came into the father’s mind. : ‘Then I ee. much fear she will have a hard time of it, I don’t like the feverishness, T[ will send some mixture at once; and I had better run in again this evening.” ; ‘% “Do so; and, Wilson—she ismy only ter—if you see any danger, let me once.” “You may rely on me; and if, as I fear, she is worse to morrow, I should feel relieved if you would call in other aid,” the doctor remarked, anticipating Mr. Elsmere’s wish on the subject. “Not,” he added, “ that any one can do more for her than I, who know her constitution so well, but we shall feel that—in fact, it will be greater satisfaction to us all.” Maud was very restless during the day. Her father spoke of their visit to Mrs. Brentwood, with the express purpose of eliciting some re- mark that would throw light on the doctor’s suggestion. But he was unsuccessful, and was at length driven to ask, ‘‘ Is anything troubling you, ey SBE? If there is any care or sorrow, of which I am ignorant, will not my darling let me do something to remove it?” The fever burned brighter in her cheeks, and her laugh sounded unnatural as she replied: “Trouble! What trouble cculd I have, papa? Do not imagine that Iam unhappy.” ‘ And her father saw that his attempts to win her confidence were doing ber harm; but, in his own mind, there was a lurking suspicion the doctor was right. : That evening the beautiful girl grew worse, and when the morrow dawned over the earth, and the sun lit the quivering dewdrops with wondrous tints, no one at the Hall gave thought to the beauteous outer world, for all hearts were anxious for the young mistress, into whose eyes came no brigbtness with the glad, warm sunshine, __, Her father, althongh outwardly calm, suf- fered most acutely. Could it be possible that, after all, Heaven would not suffer his daugh- ter to inberit what should have been given to his son? The doubt would come so etimes; and when the anxious father sat beside his suf- fering child, bis heart was very heavy, But he could not forgive Geoffrey even then, Ha not Geoffrey deserved his just anger? Was he daugh- now at not the cherished Object Of his father’s pride _| and bis spothers love paras sient it : . proud heart faltered for a mothent then; ; Wt 10 sen ROE until a few days later, when a enso_of his own unwo Chee Caine to tith att ¢ A) ; 4 a
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eS SS a as, i. of a eet Hi, See aa cae We Wiens «i Ae! ries on ig Fame dst od A 4 ity ae i be! i . SH ma: bd “A = & iY ‘} re 7% ste? ote Oh Caer env {t. a eo TTC IST ote Eee | ACMIENISTER aetna billed agape rete pm aarti s Sees ee aT a a ae IS = - : 7 rived a telegram His father. .It said sim- | room. until.be. heard, wheels.on the. drive out- ae Ahern "4 pire fe atk _ »| side. » Then he went out, ard lode ‘bareheaded. a sostitl 23% + Sogrr BOs ai 9 on the broad steps. In a moment his son was # Comme Rome, ray.gon) MONE IEVGH corn] gumapiogi Mis bands ois o\ wsesov ou oe fag 6 words ‘*my son’spoke volumes to'| . ‘‘l am here, dear father,” he sald.,,. ) x 0U Pt» A rh had'so ogee for his father’s for- | will now forget my youthful willfulness, and let, giveness; and it was’ with mingled feelings of | me help to share your trouble?” he said, softly. erouble and thankfulness that Geoffrey sought ‘‘ And my boy must forget his father’s hard- his’ wife. ness,” was the reply... ‘(I have been along time “T have had rather bad news of Maudie, my | learning, the, lesson, Geoffrey.. Perhaps ..this darling,” he said. © ‘She is ill, and I am going | sorrow was needed to show me the utter useless- t6 sed Bian ” nessof setting up ourselves against all the dic- i To Elemeré, \Geoffrey?” Lady Elsie ex- | tates of mercy. . You,must be prepared to see a Jaimed, in surprise. great change in our poor. child; her face is bears Yes, dear. See here.” And her husband | altered so from its col » proud beauty, and her A Ate te ae! lots pmt $ ee he Pe oe yn ppb pioe Pim n e Tadw a a eee egies | ment. . You know that I was unaware of the | existence of her bx aan I believe now that she did not at first understand all that was im- plied by what I sands But while she was in town—at your b MG way—I tried towin — her forgiveness; but she repelied me with the utmost scorn, I donot think Tam avainman, and yet I tell you it is my firm conviction thab but for that unfortunate error, Maud Elsmere © ~~ would now be my wife,” lead . “You have my. deepest sympathy,” Elsie — said, gently. ‘My husvand and J had a dim suspicion, that there bad been something wrong. Maud mentioned that be had been able to ~ advise papa. to apply to her for Geoffréy’s ad- . hair has been cut off.’ dress; and she was very indignant when my Pe pcas Mawhited believe she has been trou- But Geoffrey Elsmere was not prepared for | husband sxggested that you had not knownof plit about that wretched mistake of Mr, the awful caange that had come over the lovely | his relationship to her. I assure you, dear Mi. TeRanaled h’s, Do you think he cares for her, | face—the face which had no coldness for him, | Thornleigh, that Geoffrey and I will do alin — G fr on F but had been the link .between bim and his old | our power to help you. You see, it seems as — CL ay fit, Let him know how she is, | life. For some moments he could not speak, | though we—that is, Geoffrey and I—have been _ a Lome ao! ; ; Bie it was to — hope fect) eal Ue y, 3 ” Blsie said, as she looked again git possible she can live?’ he asked; an t Pe cB ae avy, Geoffrey, surely yoann there was no mistaking the angnish that was fath or never sent that message! Do you see | expressed in his look. ‘ he addresses you?” ‘It is not impossible, She is sleeping now; I ner yes my darling; and but for the thought;| expect she will be conscious when, she wakes.” f poor Maud, Ishould feel nothing but thank- And, before, long the beautiful eyes were fulness e : pero and the light of reason shone forth ’ brought about such ‘a! again. sah ort iets ewinarbiis “Can it be that “Ts that you, Geoffrey? Then it is not.a +: man about Maud has softened his heart?” dream! I thought that papa aad you were sit- oe Perhaps so, dear. T have ordered Grayson ting by my bed. But where is papa?” . to pack a few things together, for 1 want to, ‘Tam here, my darling.” set ee at once. I shall beable to reach Elsmere And the father’s eyes were dim as he took her : no i hb the express. Where’| wasted hand. = ny i oP satan Seer rb ‘“‘Has. Elsie come, and Baby Geoffrey?’ she DI ’ P : ffrey BHismere. had.| asked. th selon frat tte wite and Jittle son, “Not yet, dear; but sbe will be here soon,” bie dhe second ‘time since his marriage he | Geoffrey said, as he smiled across at his father, and for tin journey to the home of his child- | ‘‘ And now, Maudie, love, you must rest, or we set out oi auxiety for Maud did not prevent | shall all get into trouble for letting you talk.” hood. % ontrasting this with his former jour-| |‘ The gaeavact danger is over now,” the doctor — te n he had left bis delicate young wife | said, an hour later; ‘‘but you must issist on ney. polio put for theoccasional visits of the | absolute quiet, sir, or I will not.be responsible, and son vaut-maid; now they were surrounded | Doctor Hamlin will be here again to-morrow,” tie og ndanté who would obey their slightest | he added, as he took his. leave, by b x hen he ‘stole into his father’s grounds Doctor Hamlin was the second mémber of the pig fs dead of night; now he was going openly | faculty who bad been called in. He was a man in os sathér’e-bA fnest wikh: of high standing and repute; and he had assured at that fa n seemed to.go very slowly, and yet | Mr. Elsmere that Doctor Wilson had already the means of bringing sorrow to Maud, whereas if we would do anything to showour love and gratitude to her; for, Mr. Thoruleigh, in spite | of her coldness to others, she has the very — warmest of hearts where her loved ones are = concerned,” | ‘T know it,” was the reply; “but I fear there will never be any warmth for me rs visi Never, . in her coldest moments to others,have ITseen anything to equal her manner to me at our ~ last interview,” be added, dejectedly. hE ae rt ey, not the exaggeration of coldnessarise from the desire to repress other feelings?” Esie suggested. “‘ITam betraying no ‘confidence in = saying this, for I assure you that Maudie has never given us any reason to suppose you were anything to. her; and my suggestion was based on your. own remark, that you felt sure thatshe was inclined to ge ate . bee: “T. understand, s. Elsmere, and { ‘am greatly indebted to you for your kind interest. ‘You will probably hear soon from Elsmere??? “Yes; and I hope Geoffrey, will send forme,” _ was Mob answer. ‘‘T will Jet you know as soon as . : hse tad: “* Perhaps you are right. The trai . ; : ; ree ? Wicie ack 3 behind! hen it drew up in front | acted just as he should have advised. subject to papa?” Elsie asked. Regt ae Ape ity Coe iitar election. A servant inthe | As Maud had asked for Elsie and the child, Yes, Be rnows how Iam placed, and w 1a of ane d on the platform, Mr. | Mr. Elsmere desired his son to send for them at ; probably be glad to have a chance of get Bs c Elsmere livery §tou rid of my unsociable self for a time,” he replie a ms ad him at once as one of those | once, Elsmere recogniz:d b rede Hy arte Laem 3 4 i i family’s service in his I do not care to spare you now,” he said. : who hae Bee ey meas re “But how will Elsie travel? se 7 be tere 2 OP cia touched his hat respectfully while ‘“Mr, Cleveland will bring her, or depute | came from Elsmere. Then no time was lost in = 2b nD oe tay els ay tes ai the task to some one; Thornleigh; perhaps,” ARAL | ores, : reparing for the journey, band iyi jad to see you again, Master | Geoffrey said. os eel mans itis a sad house you're coming | And he scanned his father’s face to see if he Geoffrey ‘ber rig i okenly. ‘Our young lady will | had any knowledge of Maud’s trouble with re- be pevtert® tor ‘knowing you are at home, sir; as 8 ner but there wasno indication of any at her senses again.” . | such knowledge. 5 are tear se What ails her? I} During the two days that elapsed, before his Then 8 telegram,” Mr. Elsmere said, | wife’s arrival, Geoffrey devised all sorts of plans only had @ ’ for bringing peace to his unbappy sister. His ey -+of fever, sir. The doctor says it | father had told him of the doctor’s opinion that “ Ttis a sorb. thougb; but it has weakened | nothing but mental ‘distress had brought the fen't er cue ouag lad y, and she had been | poor girl to such a state; and from what Geof- her terribly, poo Dna has never seemed very | frey already knew, he felt pretty sure that the aelisate betore w Year came in—least ways, so unlucky mistake of Thornleigh’s, as he called it, well since the a Jive not been alone in my | was the cause of it ail. But he fancied that I’ve fancied, ap isit to New York made the | Elsie would have more wit than he to, plan opinion; but baby’s nurse—a respectable, motberly-looking . — woman; and her father decic.d that ae we Nye Thornleigh was bent.on going, be would remain aa in the city until further news should ‘be! forth. | sae coming, iH CMT Nice eer _ It was a close, sultry day when ee, honed the first time, the home where her husband’s earliest recollections and affections were cen- tered, and the excitement had made her un- usually pervous; so that, when she entered the beautiful grounds, she felt she was looking'very _ weary. Her husband had driven to the station — to meet her, and he was somewhat surprised it her pale face, eae “T am thinking, dear husband, what you must have suffered in those weary days of toil, | after apending your ohildhond here,” she said, as tears filled her eyes. ‘I cannot think how you could have been i patient.” yi ie T chose. deliberately, my darling! I kn thet, in all probability, I should irre “an offend my father. The mistake ] made was supposing myself able to secure some lucratiy. employment. But do not think now of ths sorrowful time. Now that there seems m hope of poor Mauq’s recovery, I cannot of the past, The worst part of the business about poor Thornleigh. How ill he tat vor ‘sent for. ; ‘brother will | I am longing to go to. her, but I do not know “Do you think the oer . a ‘ a. Elsmere | yet how my husband was received.” : a id ol “What is the matter? Has she been ill spoke of his son’s probable visit. Geetha dell tbat? “Ido,” Mr. Elsmere chp tere nd tbe one | ‘* We have not heard any particulars; but I a sip an yee ha p Reps a vais greed a ‘doncted she was not looking well when she was i ; sm hi ly a few weeks | in town. bei ‘ een that of banishing bier onciled to. bin, I| “Mrs, Elsmere,” Mr, Thornleigh said, desper- she urged lf she is mercifully restored to | ately, Ihave val at beer ra ru confidence, sif,” : py wife, . Nine ive Aandi believe you bave Bee favor father could help us in any way to put an re ee estrangement isin Phetig : Me ai i Thornleigh? He told me how it happe peed on gravely; that will tend to | Before I had ae! the Mie abient will be of advan t age.” : ts . tion. I un nthe re z el en ya uf . Sir Bismere did not leave his daughter's ferred ‘that over | . Ue 2 i y 5 ‘ i $ 4 ¥ / * * . . ae Tae af by , , AS > era ay eet eee: He SS tah a a ed FF 5 Pe ae ica tte 1 ie Gry a! NERY Santa De Te tha “ + ( s 1% Mi ots) ai ea er ea ap epee ate > at Ti Be re
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2 F Yes, Look, Geoffrey, there is your father! tk _ How he has altered since the night when you _ pointed him out to me!” He has had a hard time, darling; but I think tbat the trouble has softened him, He is as tender as he was in the olden days, when my poor mother stood by his side.” Elsie was very pale when she sprung from the carriage. Mr. Elsmere was struck by the con- ‘trast between her appearance when he first saw ber and now. He bent down and kissed her softly on the forehead. : “My little daughter will forgive the tard _ welcome that has been given to her,” he said, avely. And Elsie thought how truly noble ne looked in uttering words which until lately a he would have deemed weak, ‘I am longing ~_ “* Maudie tells me he is like my poor wife.” Sy “So Geoffrey thinks; but the nurse and he _ . Maudie now?” -_. Yes, my dear; she is longing to see you again.” is So Elsie went, leaving her husband to speak of the subject they had been discussing. _ Mr. Elsmere was troubled greatly by bis son’s ~ gommunication, “Thad hoped that the only source of trouble ‘S had been removed with your coming,” he said, _ sadly. “And yet, now you have brought the __* subject to my mind, I remember that on the __ night of Thornleigh’s coming here, Maud was _. brighter and happier than I have since seen her. Something must have caused her to act so er differently toward him when we were in town; but to tell the truth, Geoffrey, I was too harassed _. about you then to notice what was going on a _ aroutfd me,” ag For a few days after Elsie’s arrival, Maud seemed to improve aly The pleasure of _ seeing her father speaking kindly to Geoffrey’s wife, and noticing the child with daily in- creasing inter¢st, gave the invalid a happier bi _ look. But it wassoon apparent that the doctor ‘was dissati-fied with his patient’s progress. pe , We have not yet got to the root of the mat- ‘ter, he said, with a grave shake of his head, _ when, after another fortnight of careful nursing, Maud was unable to sit up in bed for even a few i = DOR, “* With her constitution, now that . _ the worst is past, she ought to regain strength - -‘Papidly, instead of which she is positively no e, - farther on the road to recovery than she was ‘a ‘week ago.” a is ig was nearly tempted to go to his - daughter and urge her to confide in bim, but aa saliglgcntentered, think, dear sir, if you ‘will trust to me, ‘we may find out if she really does care for Mr. - -‘Thornieigh. I really believe that if she still al ves him it will be a relief to her to know that | he is interested so deeply in her welfare, As ; off from all means | . j is, she has so shut here-lt - last interview with bim be dreadful. Will you leave mé to contrive to oft Dn ANP becoming accustomed. Bigg CH Norse has just brought him in from the E sie went. out and called to the nurse, who . . was going to the nursery, with the child in her rms, .. “Bring bim in, nurse; Miss Elsmere wishes . tosee him.” ‘The woman obeyed, walking softly toward e bed.. _. As the cbild’s eyes rested on Maud, he crowed om ‘delightedly, and ‘held a beautiful geranium to- - wardher, - ae yon are a very gallant young gentleman,” Ne ae said, with a smile. “‘Where did he e flower, nurse?” tye was stretching out his hand to try to broke this spray,” i courtesy. ; will be here in a few minutes, May I go to Apo meh Te ee ee SO ae : A’ MINISTERING eer RE, 6 Tew Pe: 2a at f Oe eS St Sew “Take baby away now,” she said, to the nurse, ‘T ought not to. have consented to let him come.” And as the woman left the room, Elsie quick- ly and dexterously applied the {needful restora- ives. ‘“Maudie, my darling,” she said, tenderly, feeling sure now that the news she had to im- part could not be other than grateful to the suffering girl, ‘‘ perhaps 1 ought to have told ou before that our dear friend, Mr: Thorn- eigh, came down to Elsmere with me. You know, dear, that we are all aware of that un- happy business—Mr. Thornleigh’s mistake, I mean—and we are all sorry that it should have happened through us; so, wheu he desired’ to come here, so that he could hear hourly of your condition, we had not the heart tosay him nay. He is so changed, dear, from what he was, that your father says it is almost impossible to be- lieve that he has not been an invalid since his visit here at Christmas.” Elsie was kneeling on a stool by the side of Maud’s bed, and her cheek rested gently against the pale, sunken face. She was not’ very much surprised to see tears stealing at length from under the closed eyelids. But Maud tried to hide them, and very soon she managed to say: ‘““Mr. Thornleigh is a perfect enigma. Why should he profess to be interested in one whom he has so shamefully insulted?’ ‘‘He knows now, dear, and bitterly répents offering such en insult. “But, my darling, think of, the circumstances! Had you seen him keep- ing a secret assignation in the dead of the night —to say nothing of the note—would not’ the natural inference have been that there was’ something wrong? ' Put. yourself in his place, dear. He must have loved you very cearly— indeed, that he doas.so ‘now is very evident— and the notion that you could act unworthily must have given him unutterable pain. ‘You cannot think, dear, that, loving vou as he did, he would willfully wound you? .But you are tired now, my love. I will go’into your dress- ing-room to, write to'papa. If you'want me, I shall hear your slightest movement.” And Elsie kissed the pale, wan face, and went softly away, breathing a prayer inwardly that some good might come of what she’ had said. Miss Elsmere was not improving’at all, the doctor thought that day; but on each sueceed- ing one he fooled more pleased, and the omin- ous shake of the bead was seen no more. Lilsie told Mr, Thornleigh thatshe had spoken to her sister-in-law about him. She had a delicate task to perform; so she merely let’ him know that Maud had said little concerning him, but had listened quietly to her remarks in ex- tenuation of his conduct. But that was better than nothing to bis hungry soul, There was no hope of’ seeing his darling. It would be weeks before she would be strong enough to see ‘any but her own family circle; so he found it neces- sary to return to his business duties, and to trust to his kind friends for regular bulletins from Elsmere. CHAPTER XI “ns MUCH HH DARES.” » AUTUMN was far advanced when Maud Els- mere looked out again from her window upon the outer world. The trees were almost desti- tute of foliage, and what little still remained was looking sere, and ready to follow the heaps that were daily removed a the indefatigable aitper ea from the lawn and garden paths. A ew chrysanthemums and Jate asters still lin- gered, as if unwilling to show themselves rout- ed until a'severe frost should make’ them ¢‘ur- render. On the whole, it was not a very cheer- ing or oe scené upon which the still weakly girl gazed with dreamy eyes. But, in spite of the appearance of decay and change, the invalid found plexsure in looking at familiar objects. Perhaps, too, the thought that. loving eyes had looked lately upon the prospect she now saw, helped to bring the bright flush to her pale face, and a light to her eyes. “ There are some letters for you, dear,” E'sie said, as she noticed how much better ber sister- in-law was looking. ‘‘Mr. Elsmere would not have you troubled with them before. He thinks there is nothing of great importance, as all your intimate friends have been aware of your illness, Shall I get them for you to seé, Maudie?” “Thank you, Elsie, I think Imay as well just look at them,” Maud said, somewhat listlessly. . When the numerons square envelopes bad been opened, and their contents lightly examin- ed, Maud set aside ove lengthy epistile, ““ ve was ty %s f * +08 IRIE , R EE eS ‘this year in Dy he 5 EX Dre S5 mS cate: — ‘*T saw her one day after you returned home,” Elsie remarked. ‘‘She asked me if there was any truth in the report that Herbert Hilton was about to marry Eva Walsingham. [ told her that it was quite true, for you had deputed me to select a wedding-present for the bride. Poor Lucy! I fancied from her manner that she had a ela some hopes in thatdirection for here self. “She might have been Mrs. Hilton now,” Maud said, indignantly, ‘‘if she had been less mercenary. He followed her like a shadow for days, and then she refused bit because’ be was poor. I believe sbe liked him; but her mother bad such a horror of poverty that she, poor girl, was afraid to accept him,” “Then subsequent events must have been ra- ther galling to them-both,” Elsie said musingly. ‘‘ However, Maudie, you will see bow she is go- ing on, for you have evidently quite a budget there.” Maud looked down at the closely-written ages. “Tf she was disappointed about Herbert, she has soon found a panacea for her woes, Elsie; for she is about to marry one Anthony Liver- more, an importer.” And Maud looked at her companion with a gleam of merriment. ‘‘ Who is going to marry that ungainly fel- low?” Geoffrey asked, coming in at that mo- ment. “Do you know. him, Geoffrey?” his sister in- quired, in astonishment. ‘“*[ have seen him, and that is sufficient to koow him,” was the reply. .‘‘ He had business transactions with the firm which had the honor of enrolling me among the number of. its em- ployes.” And Geoffrey Elsmere: smiled now at the change in his circumstances. . ‘‘ There was some rather unpleasant business, too, I remem- ber,” be added; ‘“‘and siltogetber my impres- sion of the-man is anything but flattering.” '“ Poor little Lucy!” Maud said, compassion- ately. ‘She remindsme of my promise to be bridemaid whenever’ she: should require my services in that; capacity; but she fears from accounts she has: beard of my health that sbe will be compelled to release me from that promise. I wonderif she has also remembered one I made in connection with it+—-namely that I would present to her on the happy. occa: sioha facsimile. of my bracelet, with lilies of pearls and diamonds.” ‘Trust her! A -woman/who would: marry a man of the Anthony Livermore type is merce- nary enough for anything,” Geoffrey said, with a laugh, abel : ‘ “*] will send her a few lines of congratula- tion,.and say that orders shall be given at once for the bracelet. Willyou be my amanuensis, Elsie?” Maud «sked. a *Oertainly, my dear; but. first ofall you must let Geoffrey place you. on the couch, and then I will pour ‘you a dose of Doctor Wilson’s tonic. He will be pleased, to see youso much better when he pays his next visit,” the fair-' haired young matron continued, Mr. Eismere was anxious to keep bis son with him at\Elsmere, but Mr. Cleveland had to be consulted before any definite arrangement could be made, Ney Maud suggested that it ‘would be a ce: pital plan if Mr. Cleveland would consent to spend Christmas at the Hall, and then he could settle with her father about the future of Elsie and Geoffrey. So, as every one liked the idea, Elsie wrote to her’ father, who promised to try to conclude some: business be had undertaken and join his friends some time in December. : The winter did not seem in any burry to assert itself, aud the shortening days passed quietly onward without any very apparent indications, save in their diminished. length, of the steady approach of Christmas, Mr. Elsmere bad thought much about the coniing season, but-as yet bad said nothing. He must be content to let this one year pass, asia . few sorrowful predecessors had done, without the time-honored festivities. It was rather a pity that after once resuming old customs they should again have to. to be neglected; but then it would not do to have bis daughter reminded so. painfully of the happy time she had spent a year ago. Hayine, come to this conclusion, he was somewhat . non- plused by Maud’s own proposal on the subject. - *T think, oe , that Elsie must takemy place pipe you to arrange for the en- tertainment of our guests. I should like'to in- ‘vite Herbert and Eva Hilton to stay bere for a few days. Mr. Walsingham tells me they aro coming to The Willows fora few weeks,” “ But, my dear) do you thick you.are wise to ; ny n v. ; oe ‘ ~ t * 44 ieee
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BEA ate. Age? Dye ts ee ee = e frttive there is no doubt that I oe rohpe tS wretched man, instead of one of the happie ” ie 5 : } ter thankful to see oP ae A: MINISTERING (ANGEL, i oD —s », “Tam truly rejoiced. at your good fortune,” aud said, earnestly. ‘And it I can assist ou in re plans for poor Mrs. Livermore’s nefit, shall most willingly do so.” But. nothing could be Sons until after the trial of the scoundrel who had. passed as. a rich man, and had with his false professions secured the influence of Mrs. Millington, who had re- duced her small fortune greatly by her efforts to appear well in society. Lucy had no love for the coarse-looking man whose eyes she had dazzled, and to whom Mrs, st clos was willing to sell her daughter for 0. Deep indeed was the disgrace, and heavy the punishment that speedily came to the unnatural woman who had striven to drive all better in- stincts from her daughter’s soul. A few.weeks later Anthony Livermore was found Suilty 5 and, but for the yearly payment of five hundred. dollars by Miss Elsmere, Lucy would have been obliged to earn something to eke out her mother’s crippled resources. Herbert would not consent to have Lucy in- formed, of the real donor of the welcome assist- ance.. He could not fancy that she would be dead to all shame; and so, in spite of Miss Els- mere’s uneasiness at having to accept thanks that were really not her due, she felt bound in honor to fulfill Herbert Hilton’s wishes. The third week in D cember gave greater promise of winterly weather than bad been ex- pected, for there had been more than a month of damp, unhealthy weather. But one bright night the stars came out clearly again in the steely-blue sky, and next morning the clear sunshine discovered some rather ob- stinate patches of ice, and after all there was a hope of seasonable weather for Christmas. Elsie was enjoying to the full the new sense of being beloved by a larger circle of friends than she had ever hoped for. She was experi- encing, too, the happiness of trying to benefit others. Another source of excitement was lending its beautif — of the reserve that had been one of his chief | characteristics, and for more than an hour he kept Miss Elsmere well entertained. So at length Elsie found them, and expressed her pleasure at finding ber sister-in-law display- |, ing so much sense, “You are wise to sit quietly and not get over- heated, especially if you intend, as ] know you generally do, to go outside when the bells ring,” she said to Maud. ‘‘ Geoffrey and I want to go out, too; but.as we do not. want any to join us but just. our own circle, you wrap up warmly. and go first—will you, dear?—~and Geoffrey and I will contrive to join you pee when we have discharged our duties to those who will be leaving us presently. Ob, Maudie, I am a happy. girl to-night! I. only wish you were parte so.” | : Maud smiled faintly; for although she never THE END, 4 ; i 3 , ‘on oie ee Cee | 3 t cA es a £5 Wea! ra ; f . Nae rns is 7 tees nih r ai tie ‘ Sree te ¢ ee : rit he tiviay oe SEAMS: SERN it LA ND See te DIE! Cn ee Raa eT ARM ter ce anes gem NS SMMC BAD Ary bem ee Tagg Pee My. Tel Sos 8 Oo eam 2" Gy Re coe ae a ee Ne a Set tear oe Sag SMa en ee ee I et! Fe LE ee ee ee et Ot eS eS) eT Oe m5 RE! pe! e- < : a aS” SES ke of Royal Thornleigh, she did not check * Isie’s occasional references to bim. 1 “I think I will goaway and rest foratime, Elsie,” she said, as she saw her father coming to speak to Mr. Cleveland. ‘‘ Yes, dear; [ shall certainly go cut to hear those giorious peals. It is not likely that I; who have longed so ear- nestly for their sweet sounds in days gone by, shall forego the pleasure now. You will find me there when you and Geoffrey come.” : And, with. the little patient smile that was becoming habitual, she went away to lie ving “4 She could not rest, however. She was living over again those few bright hours of a year ago. How well she remembered it all—that happy, happy time when she knew that Mr, — Thornieigh really loved her! Then came the nee of the miserable time that followed, and like a warning came: the words of her brother—she could almost fancy he really spoke—‘‘ Do not spoil your life for a myth.” Perhaps that —— had come too — late. Perbaps the man who had loved herso well had tired of her persistence. She could not blame him if he had; for had she not tried to convince him that be was nothing to her? ; She had not thought then of the dreary fu- ~— ture. It had not occurred to her, in the pride of her oiahee dignity, that she was ‘‘spoiling | 4 her life.” But it seemed she had done so; and not only her own, but the life of theman she loved, for she knew. well that no other man bn? could ever be anything to her, _ “eS She would not have repined so much if she alone had had to suffer for her obstinacy; but repining could do no good; so she must try to bear with the lot that she had chosen. ben she had been offered ber choice, she had pre- ferred to gratify her pride rather than her love. Why should she murmur? ° A few minutes before twelve she went tothe old spot on the terrace. ‘ie Excepting that there wasasenseof desolation in her heart, and that there was'no moon to light up the landscape, there seemed to have __ been no interval between the time when she had stood listening, a year ago, tothe firstclear ringing sounds; for even as she leaned against . the stonework, the peals came‘distinctly on the still, frosty air. , we, The reflections that occupied her mind were very different to those that had troubled her | then. Her trouble must be buried, however, _ for already she could bear the casement open- ing, and she would not, for any consideration, | add a cloud to the brightness of Elsie’s horizon, that had been overcast too ofteninthe past. In after years, Maud could never quite re- member how the next few minutes were passed.’ She had a dim consciousness that she had turned to make room beside her for her brother. __ and his wife, and that, instead of Geoffrey, she _ found Royal Thornleigh had returned, and w é. Ly going through the last year’s programme as if) Sey ge too, bad found it impossible to separate this solemn time with its preceding anniversary, But she could not remember what words Sea spoken; for during the semi-unconsciousness under which she reeled in those supreme mo- _ ments wher she realized that bappiness had come toher after all, there seemed to be but one refrain breathing in time to the joyous pealing' —‘‘ IT have not spoiled my life.” =~ a2 To nee es F and Elsie, the half-hour’s Rreced- ence which they bad agreed to allow Mr. Thorn-- leigh seemed interminable; but ips it ended, and they went out in time to bear 4 ing notes slowly fading away,in faint: ‘: ad 4 i ips ‘ dear friends see coming has done younohbarm!” iss Elsmere did_not look up; she pro- fessed to be tired, and Elsie considerately left.
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) te ‘i iB N « Ww 557. The Outlaw’s Wife. | 563, VESTS Aa Shot. 227. Lrona. 242, Dashing D1 hh D IME ELS. | 558. The Tall Trapper. 564, Gunmaker of Border | 228. The Mountaineer. 248, Will-o’ eehe-Wisp, ie 559. The Island Pirate. 565. Red Hand. = The Hunter’s Escape | 244. Dashing Dick. Bike Incomparable in Werit. a Soon ae pig a Voy Spec bine) 4 oe . ty pe gery ee tr we pa oo e Trapper. . The Specter Chie: e Swamp Riders. .. Ben Bramble. Unapproachable in Price. | | Soe. The French Spy. Others in Press, ee Jabez Hawk oe tk phe ey pugend Captain 8 toe the Trailer. | 449, The Traitor Spy. TE ori te Massasoit’'s ake: r The Boy Chief, | 450, The Gray Tate: 234, The Mad Hun’ 249, Gray Har the Chief, . Tim, the Trailer. 451. Little Moccasin. THE ILLUMINATED DIME 255, The Reefer of ié. | 250: "The Praivie © Tigers. Bea As i58 The White Herat SF ee Avon, Bk Meee go the 453. The Isl: i z ‘ : 454, The Forest Princess, | PPOOCK HT NOV ELS, | 2&8: The Hunter’ 8 Pledge. | 253. Zebra Zack. 455. The Trail Hunters. ; 200. Rattlepate. . 254. Masked Messen See 458, Backwoods Banditti, | 20. Tho B’ar- ar-Killer, | 8. The Girl ‘Captain. oy af, Old Grialy, Bride. | 255. Aogeme oe 7. Ru olan: i . Yankee . 458; Laughing Eyes. 22. Indian a0, the Guide, te 127, Savcmpat 459, Mohegan Maiden. 23, Old Kent, the Ranger. | 128. Squatter Dick. 349, The ns Seg ; 440. zhe Quaker Scout. a eri : ttep pper. 1p. a he Child Spy. Speakers. e er . Sumter’s Scouts. R 2 . Mi ‘oat, 351. cee Belt, i Guide| 462: “The Five Champions. 26. The Black Shine 131. Red Phime. FB SB agli 3g bs. ac aa te _ 352, On the Trail. ae a oe Guards. = a ata Sin 4 pg ~~ La cg ti beget tee , ee me oC mye Be ea 465. ib Ruskin. 29. The Soout. 134 The Cannibal Chief. aia Dime iplonilers embrace twenty-four volumes, bb. e Riva vers. . Wagle 35. raibo. ly aan. dea Starling. a1. The Mystic Canoe. | 135, Scarlet Moccasin, “ Neate eke Bs ee aeket ag oe a ; Single Han . The Golden Harpoon, . Ridna 4 sf 459. Tippy, the Texan, | $8. The Scalp King. POOH: | 158, Maid of the Moutitath, |- : Gomle Reengen 1 Sombie eker’ ii Feetonstiaie” | Bt QS ye mangar | Masriersenneade | f HoowiC |i Bogen Beni 42, The Buitalo Trapper. | 36, The Boy Pioneer. 141, ‘The Mute Chief. 6, Humorous Speaker.) 18. gente ys pee Speak- 473, Old Zip: Ti 37. Ganspiar dit Guide. 142. Boone, the Hathek, S fine a Speaker. po oats m 474. Foghorn Phil. 38. The Heart-Eater, 143. Mountain Kate. Stump Speaker. , Serio-Comic. Speaker, 475. Mossfoot, the Brave. |.40. The Hu : 9, inveay le Speaker. 20, Select Speaker. ‘ 8 ge Hunter. 144, The Red’Scalper, 10, Spread-Eagle Speaker | 21 Funn eaker. 478. Snow Bir rd. wide |e He Naa the Trapper | M45. The Lone Chit, 1) Goreng teade SP 59° Folly Steak pane ene Con es Aaade | 22. vatek Ga Caen 12, Joxhibition Speaker | 98" Dialoet Speaker, 478, Old Honesty. | 48, The White Outlaw. 147,, Chinga the Cheyenne eos ‘ 479, Bald Bagle. | 44. The Dog Trailer. 148. The ‘Tangled. Trail. 2, Dime Book of Recitations and Readings. 480, The Ba Princess. | 45. The Blk 149, The Unseen Hand. These books are replete with choice pieces for bd 481. The White Brave. 46; Adrian, the Pilot. 150. The Lone Indian. School-room, the Exhibition, for Homies; seer yee 1.482 Faemen pinge om 4 ape Manhunt a ‘ oi pi ee Brave, | 100 Déeclamations and Recitations in each boo. e Moose Hunter . The Phantom Tracker } 152. wlegs. ; . The Poibless Hand. |} 484. The Brigantine. 49. Moccasin Bill.’ 153, The Valloy Scout, Dialogu es. . The Lake Ran . | 485. Put. Pomfret’s Ward. | 50, The Wolf Queen. 154. Red Jacket. The, Dime Sone a: each yolnme 100 pages, em ee Alone on the Plains. | 486, Simple Phil. | 51. Tom Hawk, Trailer. 155; The Jungle Scout. brace thirty books, viz.: ‘ ye = Horseman. ; 487, Jo Daviess’ Client, 52. The Mad Chief. 156, The Cherokee Chief. | Dialogues No, One. pPiatogues ti No. Sixteen. 488, Ruth Harland. 53, The Black Wolf, 157. The Bandit Hermit. | Dialogues No. Two. Dialogues No, Seventeen, | 489.. The Gulch. Miners. 54. Arkansas Jack. 158. The. Patriot Scouts. Dialogues No. Three. |Dialogues No, Highteen. |, 490. Captain Molly. 55. Blackbeard. 159. The Wood Rangers. | Dialogues No. Four, /Dialogues No. Nineteen. ; hae . Wingenund. 56. The River Rifles, 160, The Red Foe. Dialogues No. Five Dialogues No.. Twenty. . The Partisan Spy. 57, Hunter Ham. ° © 161. Beautiful Unknown. | Dialogues No, Six. |Dialogues No, Twenty-one. er. vi The Peon Prince. 58. Cloudwood:” ’ 162; Canebrake Mose. Dialogues No; Seven, {Dialogues No, Twenty-two, e vie ipper 494. The Sea Captain. 59. The Texas Hawks, , 103; Hank, the Guide, Dialogues No, Light IBlsioues No. Twenty-three, e Red 495, Graybeard. 60, Merciless Mat, 164, The Border Scout, Dialogues No. Nine. Dialogues No. Twenty-four. 496.. The Border Rivals, ' 61; Mad Anthony’s Scouts |.165. Wild N, Dialogues No, 'Ten. ‘Dialogues No. Twenty-five. | 497. The Unknown. ; | 62, The Luckless Trapper | 166: Mid of Wathuibtie: Dialogues No, Eleven. | Dialogues No. y-six. iene Horse 498, Sagamore of Saco. | 68. The Florida Scout. 167. The Three Captives. | Dialorues No, Twelve, ‘'DialoguesNo. ty-seven. hg SB Bride’ eat The King’s Man. | 64. The island Trapper. 168. The Lost Hunter. Dialogues No, Thirteen. | Dialogues No. Twenty-ei at. The Jaguar Qu 500, Afloat'and Ashore: | 65. po nee, 8 169. Border Law, Dialogues No. Fourteen’ ‘Dialogues No. Twenty- ‘| 601, The Wro any 66. cite: ick, 170, The, Lifted Trail, Dialogies No, Fifteen, | Dialogues No. Thirty. | Getistawe ant | Lec ince bane. tia: The Forest Spector £0 HY DOMORUPS BOE TO? Ge Witt ta 504, Alice, Wilde. . | 69. The Yellow Hunter. | 173. The Border . Dramas and Readings. 505, Ruth Margerie.. 70, The Phantom Rider, ~ | 174. Border Vengeance: 164 12m0 Pages. 20. Cents, 506. Privateer’s Cruise. 71, Delaware Tom 175. Border Bessie.” For Schools, Pario:s, Entertainments and the Ame 507, The Indian Queen. (72. Silver Rifle. 176; The Sons of Liberty, | ateur Stage, comprisin, Original Minor Dramas, 508, The Wrecker's Prize. | 78. The Skeleton Scout. | 177 qne hat Bride. Comedy. Barco (6x84 = iccee, Humorous Dialogue Be ae ese, RS Ree si, | AM Reet ae ta andar, te gree e woo e , %. The Woo ra .. The Tonkawa bi, up Chip, phe Cave Child. <6. Old Rutt, the: Trapper. r, 190. Dhe peut Bate: celebrity an interest. Edited at. Edited by Prof, A. M. iddon, Trapper. . The Scarlet Shou : ightning. Be tens ath ae Dene ere ae DIME HAND-BOOKS. | Big: The Indian Princes $0: Tiger Tail, Seminole, | 184. Mustang Som... 516, The-Forest 8 af Bl Death Deslem | 18. Hurricatie Bil Young People’s Series. B17, Rinyloes, the Guide. | 82. Kenton, the Ranger, | 186. The Red Or" -w BrapLe’s Dive Hanp-Booxs ror Youne Propu@ Se ane tace:” oo |B ARSEREORRR A | Leaps Shik! ce, | gua US Rane Sea Mier Sed Ae concer G 5 (ot Dpscagese ada 520. Emerald Necklace. | 85, Kaleolah. — Pe 189. Mohawk Nat, * bates Létver-writer, Bobk' or'Gaimnes,! + i 521, Malaeska,’ 86. The Hunter Hercules, | 190. Old Jupe. ) _W: ¥ ‘| 502° Burt: Bunke 87" Phil H 191. The e Rifles Gents’ Letter-Writer. ortune-Teller. r | fa, Paledace Squaw. | 88 Thedndian Scout | 102: Old Kyle, th the Trailer, |. Book Of Ptiquetter’ © | isp penn. [Be Weiter, | She i Aree | ah BERS esau | Boat Doane, Book of Bei Wi sDa r . The erm) 194. The ther’ : SP ROORE Sun bey Hee enn ein CL ee | |e crema of Games. r e Frontier . The Antelo 0. ‘196. Glass Hye. ‘ andbook e mer Sports. i 528, sie oe 93. The Phantani Hinthe 197. 'The Prairie Trappers | Book of Croquet, Yachting and Rowing. 529. The Maid of Esopus. | 94. Tom Pintle, the Pilot, 198. Black ee Chess Instructor, Riding and Driv ripe. So Se SOU bas ce he a omega Bet Oe reed, 2 peR Ok eum tt ater . The Rival Trappers. . The per. e oy Fees Cabin. ee mpe Bauer 1 inl a ape pone. SPY. Handbook of of Witter Sports—Skating, ete ates ani ves. . Dusky .. The Indian Avenger. -534, Qonomoo, the Huron | 99. Colonel Crockett. 203. Rival Lieutenants, KBoor. for Housewives, rs | 585. White-Faced Pacer. | 100, Old Bear Paw. 204. ‘The Swamp Rifles, | 1. Cook Book. Sita, eds and mt 536. Wetzel, the Scout. 101. Seibel 205. The Balloon Scouts. : He ape ngoe ors Guide. ieee ng % BS, ee 103 The Tien Hunters. BOF, The Toit Beonts : . ee Csi a e. | 589. Uncle Ezekiel, —'| 104. Scarred Eagle. 208. Buckskin Bill. Lives of Great Americans es. | 540, Westward Bound. | 105, Nick Doyle 209, Border Avengers. I.—George Washington. | _vTI.—David Crockett. Gab ace cease | 18) Tae Peles 869. || A Ue cee | a —aentuntinay Wayne | "E—Aeomee 543, Nathan Todd. 108. The Wood King. 212. The Silent Slayer. TV,—Ethan Allen, Xi.—Abraham Lincole, 544, Bee rd Child of een eas crag 0% he ae nee sete sig de Lafay- dat Ulysses i” : ‘ores . Nick, the Scou’ e woodsmen 4 —Uly rap e Slayer poe tie =e Bee oi and the Texas Ti a 215. ane, Prisoner of Vi.—Daniel Boone. le. | 546. The sm ts) . The Crossed intresse. 113. Tiger Heart, hacker 216, Peleg Smith. Song Books. | 547, bs Aare By re. rs hae Masked Re to 217. po wha of the biten's Drs rock 2 pega 1 to “7 aap roots ters. . The Pearl Pirates al 0: opular collee yrig! NES. 549, Eyes. ‘1146. Black Panther. 218) The Prairie Pirates. MMelod odist ' wusie ‘and Words. oe 550. Mya the: Child of | i. Abdiel, ithe ‘Avenger. 219. The Hussar Captain. School Melodist, , | r. . Cato, the Creeper. . The a SPY Joke Raskee: en, the Ranger. | 551. Hawkeye. ae al 119. Two-Hand t. 221, ie ay Scalp. 532. Dead Sh Shiner ig Ne unter, | 222 Mustang Hi ite tere Pocket Joke Book, 5s i Crow Joke Book, 2 . The Boy ers ck, : A 0 A | Bs as ot is Spcater Riders. | a0: Schuylkill Rangess,” Bo ophripes ees or eens by 2 / ‘ 0 tac: © eal ers. * 586. me 1b. Giant oa ‘On the Deep. ya 9 BEADLE ADAMS, Bat Sr sm Nye i Z ¥ | one seer t ; xt oa eth t used " ‘ ane ee a a I at " ‘i ay ge " wens oan eee ee Beadle & Adamis’ Standard Dime Publications. Prat ~* Wes