Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 4, Number 2, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 12 July 1873 — Page 6

*4 r*}

pmm

[Original.]

TWO DREAMS,

That Ine I ove?WM dead. And from dear eye* bad fled Love% a&awwtng beam: Gone, with the last drawn breath. The warmth of Ifft, and deara

Ttosn nti^i«*l«upran»e-s,j|4ft ,*#* Objor wUan dawn Chased the dark dream awajr! Welcome returning day,

The vision gone!

What nweet ralt« to bold Dear hands in Riving fold, ., Al btwwHHl momnlii "«"«*11

Again 1 draam -i—'" **&• Through the long hours of night, I watch the tedtag light,

The la*t, )a*t beam

In my beloved's ay*a, Tiljlu my earthly ukies y,. •.* s» So light hi s*en/Ti**

Morn (omwint but—

Upon an icy lirow, Tear* full unheeded now: Dear baud* held lam, OlvebaeK no fond caress— Ho warmth return* to biett"Ti* death at laut.

.Ml

Will no light break

Ann bring me aweet relief?, How long must I bear grief For «hy dear «ake?s Till resurrection'* morn, When cornea a glorious dawn,

Ami all awake.

Terhe-IIautk, June 29th.

Elinor Dane.

[CONCLCDED.j

A year afterwards Elinor said to Mrs. Eiterly, "Where is Dledrioh Lisle

I don't know I don't Indeed. Gone to the bad, I fear. And she sighed. They were waiting for the carriage Elinor stood at the window, her back turned to her friend. 'It paina me,' she said 'it pains uieyet.'

Mrs. Esterly gazed lit her in surprise and she bad thought that Elinor had never cared for nlm 'What do you mean?j/ou did nothing, child.'

N a id N in a a a Iblamo myself so for it! Therearo sins ol omission, you know.'

I cannot understand you, Elinor,' •1 begin to think I have not understood myself,' Elinor answered dreamily. Then she dismissed the subject with a little sigh, speaking hastily of other things. If Mrs. Eaterly had dared, sho would have ventured a word more. These half-confidences are so tantalizing 1 But the mystery in which the whole matter was shrouded with the reserve into which Elinor's manner had changed so suddenly, chilled the light-minded little woman and silenced her for the time.

Returning lrom their drive they found themselves hemmed in upon the bridgo with drays and cars, and crowded stages, from which they worked their tortuous way after a time into the lower town. It was a part of the city Elinor had seldom visited,devoted to factories and loundries and trades of which the girl's dainty lace-edged life knew nothing. Tall chimneys pouring out blackened,sooty smoke rose around them dirty, begrimed figures peered from cobweb-draped windows the thundor of mighty engines, the whirr and clatter of machinery tilled their ears narrow lnno-liko streets opened on every side, lined with rickety, smoke-stained tenement houses, from which stole odors more numerous and vilo than those of Cologne.

How stupid of John to come this way oxclaimed Mrs. Esterly, norvously. 'Do, Elinor, hold your handkerchief before your face one never knows what contagious disoase may bo breathed in from such horrid places. There is a red flag now!' '(), no,'said ElTmft. 'It is only the flutter of some Irish mother's petticoat. 'But I enjoy it,' sho added, eagerly. 'Tho queer littlo narrow streets the old women with great flapping caps upon their heads—U. what a pretty face she exclaimed suddenly do lot us buy some chestnuts.'

Drive on, John,' Mrs. Esterly called out In a sharp voice, as the man reined in his horses. 'Wby, Elinor, what are you thlnklug of?'

But it is all so strange,' she answered, wistfully, loaning back as they rolled away. 'I did so want to know about that girl. Sho had the sweetest face! Do you suppose the painted saints down at.St. Xavier's ever stray out of tho church windows und take to selling chestnuts on the street? O! do look there,' sho added, wlthoot pausing ibr a reply. A pinched, bluo-faced cnild, half naked, with Its scant thin petticoat drawn over its sharp little shoulders, sat in the doorway of an old house, eager, breathless, the glory of a great joy lightning her eyes, while another child, by means of an old newspaper rescued from tho gutter, was rolling her straight yellow locks into queer little buds which would blossom by and by Into curls. She had no stockings, no shoes that could answer to tho name, sho was hungry perhaps, certainly abe was bruised blue and purple by the cold but O! tho rapture of that child's face, upon whose soul the beautiful was slowly dawning.

Another turn, and they were skirting a high brick wall, above which rose more than one ambitious chimney belching forth smoke and flaine. A heavy black cloud seemed to settle over the place the rush of steam, the thunder of Iron hammer*, the clang of a noon bell, reached thom all at once, as the carriage-wheels grated over the bed of iron filing* with which the street was strewn. 'The Cordis Iron Works, I believe,' Mr*. Esterly explained with Indifference, as Elinor gaaed about her curiously. 'It is alt so much nicer than the 'pike,' Elinor answered. *A blessing on John's stupidity!' As she spoke the great gates swung slowly open and a stream of men poured out, blackened with «raok«,soot-Ix-grimed,oil-stained, shouting, sparring, bandyingjesu snd blows. Ooe, among the last, caught and held Elinor's gac* as he walked among, and yet apart, from bis fellows —like a king, with ft crowd of sooty courtiers about him, hanging upon bis words. His coarse bin* shirt wssopeo at the throat, his arms bared to the elbows. A vtsoiiean oap, drawn carelessly over the close-cut hair, and the stains from smoke, and steam, and oil were like a mask fnr the handsome face. Something in his swinging step, unlike the slouching, shunting tread of his companions, some trick of manner, ss he tossed a word over his shoulder, haa made Elinor's heart stand still— for it was Dledrioh Ltalft. She drew back out of sight* as he passed with a careless glance at tho carnage in which was no shadow of recognition. What did it meant What was he doing here, and in no strange a disguise IIad be fallen so low?—or rls*n so high? For. try as she might, she could not stifle the joy that ftUrly cried oot within her. all ig*»*»«t reason though it might I*. "was ill* tfttvifls to do honost work at lastT Better this/though his fkee were lUw a obimney-«we*p s, than tho idle purposeless life he had jted so loag. The whitest soul might

V'l

dwell in such dingy Mrrowidlnfs, »h«fc knew. She pondered *11 th^se things w*do so many ttnacknowtodged hopes, say nothing»but she readied home radiant.

Davs and week* went by. Every step sent! the blood from her heart. She haa thought of him as wandering mile# away, oceans perhaps rolled him and hsr, and all the

dr,k0V

tiaae

he bad

been so near! Surely bei would oome to her. And now hope, having lomflrhing at last to restopon, built a tower. She had been weak and leas throughout the long winter aroottlon, interest flagged and all at once life was beautiful sweet again as a lost summer. Tbe est things held a womlerful charm, the dullest events were full

who1wis spending the winterin town,

O I O on us a

to awkwardness, for whose sake be had made himself ridiculous one nigbt, but for tbe latter circumstance be would have forgotten ber altogether. Now, assured in manner, strangely beautiful, with a restless, feverish beauty which bad In it much of intense feeling and much of breathless expectation, she was a queen in her own right and needed no one to break a lance in her behalf. He gazed upon ber from a distance for a time with the curiosity which has been so fatal since tbe world began then he drew nearer, and Elinor came to meet him, with frank, outspoken pleasure. Something she owed to him. She had never forgotten bow he had come to ber rescue Then, too, he knew. He, of all the people around her, she thought, knew about Diedrich Lisle—not much, ito bo sure, but her confusion had torn him something that day, she was confident and daring to trust him, she leaned upon birn unconsciously. He went and came at her gentle bidding his ulaoe after a time was by her side. When others wearied her it was rest to turn to him: she could sit mute in his presence, if she chose, and that is a rare privilege. He understands It all, she said to herself, when some ill-nsi-tured word reaohed her ear and raised a question in her mind, tor tho littlo world about her bad begun its surmises and suspicions and envious KOssiPOne cannot sit upou a pinnacle and bo unnoticed. With only the sky for a background, who can hope the least tlofect to be hidden. •Poor fellow they said, when Jack Jocelyn's dull face brightened into life at Elinor's coining. 'And do you know she carried on a shameless flirtation with Diedrich Lisle last summer. And she thought no one knew of Die-

Elinor, I havo the strangest

news of Deck,' Mrs. Esterly said one day in early spring, as Elinor opened the door of her morning room. There was a chill in the air outside, a heavy mist fell in a fine rain, and Elinor, bending over the blaze upon the hearth Shivered as she stretched her hands out to it Was she to hear? Surely nothing could astonish her, and yet while she waited thore flashed upon her mind the childish superstition that some one walked over her grave. •'What do you think?' Mrs. Esterly went on,—'ho is in tho Cordis Ir°JJ Foundry just a common apprentice! And she delivered the sentence as though she had touched oft a ten-inch columbiad.

But Elinor's face, turned upon her, only shone for a replj', while the frightened color came creeping slowly home.

And you are not even surprised? I know it.' she answered quietlj'. I recognized him the day we pi«ssed there in the winter, you remember.' 'And did he see you? did he know you How strange that you did not speak of it!' ,, 'He did not recognize us at all, I am sure.' „, •But did he look like the others?' persisted Mrs. Esterly—'like those horrible creatures who swarmed out in our very faces? It is not possible.'

Elinor laughed softly. 'I think, she said, 'his face was rather more begrimed, and I am sure no one of the others wore so shabby ft cap.'

How dreadful!' exclaimed Mrs. Esterly, to whom the outward personated the innor, always, and who could hardly believe in virtue in tatters or with a soiled faco. 'And they Bay he has developed a wonderful mechanical genius and invented some machine—I'm sure I don't know for what—and Indeed he has only been learning the business be is to be

taken

into the firm next

month,' Elinor gave a little start of surprise and pleasuro. This, at least, she had not known. Something like thankfulness stirred in her heart, sending tbe tears to her eyes. It was all so much better than her fears better than her hopes, even. Sho hardly realized what

Mrs.

Esterly was saying, as, with her hands crossed upon her knee, her head drooping low, sbe dr©ftiTi©d bor dro&iti no near fulfillment now for surely all this was for her. '—The Cordis girls you know, Elinor?'

Yes.' she answered absently. And they say ho is to marry the eldest.'

Who is to marry? I do not understand?' Elinor asked in a bewildered way but her voice was hoarse and strained.

Wby Deck, of course. IIow listless you aro.' She did not care, then, after all. Mrs. Esterly's tone was Impatient almost angry. Deck had been very dear to ber.

The fire still shoue in Elinors face, the drone of Mm. E*terly's voloe, querulous, complaining, went on in her ears outside, tho rain was falling softly against the

window-pane

but the

dream had fttded away. *1 think I will go home now and she roye and wrapped her cloak about her. It had a llttie hood which «he drew over her head, and when she tumsd her white face, framed in the dark frill, to Mrs.Esterly, ber friend was smitten with remorse. •It is not true. I know it can't be true/ the little woman asid. drawing Elinor's face down and kissing b«r remorsefully. ».* •But why should it no! bo true?' Elinor answered coldly, patting hor aside. Poor Elinor! who wan trying to bldo her hurt. 'If you think be has wrongtd me, yon are mistaken. There n*rer any promise betwsen us.' And then she went away, home. How could fth«owa that she had urged him to make hlmsetf nobte for fiertake, wh«n ho had not oared to retorn and claim the reward? v* t.

The Cordl»e* were to gfvH a party upon tbe evening of the day which marked IJfecVs entrance into the great firm of Cordis, Cordis A Oo. An addition*! flutter of excitement foUowedtheiavlations, !rfn* it was rumored that it

rpppy.-H AITTFi SATURDAY EVENING MAIL JULY 12, 1873.

Have yon aooepUd?' Mra. asked Elinor. She hardly knew how to approach th subject, whlch had never been entered upon between them slnoe that day when they sat together orer the Are in the morning-room a month before.

Yes,' ahe replied. Ol yea she should

of course, sbe thought, sighing. eople always went tboy dressed and daneed, and laughed and sang, though the earth crumbled to atoms beneath their feet—aa it would one day, perhaps While the party went on. •They are not exactly our set,' Mrs. Esterly ssld, meditatively. 'But then one should not despise the bone and muacle of society.' And she patted her silken knee while an expression of benevolence crossed her face.

Especially where it is gilded,' Elinor said. Poor Elinor's voice sounded sharp and strange, even to herself. But everything had changed to her. The lights had all gone out. Tbe beautiful world waa shrunken and shriveled. There was nothing true or steadfast any more. The taste of ashea was in her mouth. •And then,' Mrs. Esterly went on, too much engrossed with her own thoughts to heed the words, ?tbey have been kind to Deck I could almost love them for that.' And real tears shone in her eves. There was a little stab in tho words with all their feeling for had not Elinor turned from him in that summer which seemed now so long gone by? Mrs. Esterly was not sure, sbe had never known the truth of it, but a little soreness had lingered in her heart towards the girl, believing this. But when one has had a heavy blow a lesser one is unheeded and the stab was nothing to Elinor.

Make yourself pretty to-night, was Mrs. Esterly's parting injunction. The soreness had passed away for the time, and love for Elinor predominated. It was a pity, after all, that Dock should be carried off by those Cordis girls, with their sharp black eyes and dusky faces that looked for all the world as though the smoke from the iron-works had drifted iuto their blood. She would

make

one effort at least to save

him. Elinor smiled at the words a little sadlv. So It bad come to that! Only a" few short months since tbe prettinoss—if there had been any—bad come of itself—a shining out of tbe inner warmth and joy. Now she was to make herself pretty. She remembered it again when she took up the delicate white robe laid out for her to wear. It brought back the night when she last met DieOrich Lisle—when she stood in the d«or, iaint and frightened then Mrs. Esterly's words came back to her: •Make yourself pretty to-night. Like a snare? Ah! no, no, she could not do that. The dress fell from her hands—a heap of soft, yellow lace, of lilies and shining silk-as the tears gathered in her eyes. God forgive ber! Forja foment she almost wished Diedrich Lisle were what he had been a year before, so that he still were hers Had she urged him to abetter life only to see it offered elsewhere! Would another wear her crown And must she join in tbe triumphal procession and sing prons over bis return Ah, it is like fife! it is like God—she had almost said. Our desires, stroBg as prayers, are turned back upon us like daggers to wound our hearts in tho answerinc. Then she stood up frightened, aehast. What had she said What had she thought O bow selfish had been all her efforts after all. She had thought only of blessing hor own life through his. She had urged him to be everything good and noble and true but it was to be for her O, for/tcr. If she could forget herself! If she could rejoice in the happiness in which she held no part! Ah, if we could all do that, heaven would have como ta us

^VAt least, I can bear it,' she said and maybe if sbe tried to make her heart strong under the burden the reioicing would come by and by-who knew Even with this thought came the divine lightening of the load, as though a hand mighty but unseon had touch-

edSho

laid away the pretty white robe, and chose in its place.something heavy and dark and crimson. 'How unseasonable!' Mrs. Esterly exclaimed,when Elinor came down to her at last. And no ornaments! Why, Elinor, you baye forgotten!' •I have forgotten nothing,' she answered 'except that you were to como so early. I am afraid I have kopt you

^It if Very odd,' Mrs. Estorlysaid, critically, still examining Elinor's dress, 'but, after all, exceeding becoming, and so distinguished!' and she pulled with ft dissatisfied air at the countless pale green bows «pon her own gown, which seemed all at once overtrlmined.

It was late when they roachod Merrivale Square and tho Cordis mansion, every window of which was like a flame 'But one cannot be too late at such houses.' Mrs. Esterly whispered, when they had gained the dressingroom. 'It is something to escape one hour at least of Martyrdom, nobody knows how many awkward introductions to poopl©

one

roally cannot

recognise again.9 Then sho led the way to the rooms below. *A crush of course •—such people always think there is strength in numbers.' Bnt the remark was lost upon Elinor, who was making her stately courtesies and saying tbe words which one always as in a dream, hardly conscious of the flaring lights and gaily-dressed throng about her, knowing only that Diedrich Lisle stood near. Her dress brushed as sbe passed, bnt his head was bent to the dark girl whose hand he had just released from his arm—Za Cordis, it was. who shook out her scarlet and gold plumage, and flashed a smile from her dusky eyes as the crimson gown swept by. With tbe passionate sweet strains of the wslts

dying

wi^ Kiao to anvbaaoe the wi(^gocnBa*l*rm, followed, the crowd to the fi«ilbHwsooihoold^MiwCoiduMdthe -i Ytf .ji wearisome danco as It was!

in truth over

new junior partner. It was a kind of foaai of the Prodigal Son which Ileok groaned tod cfttfai In eret. Few of us like to coafces our ml»deeds to tbe sound of a trumpet.

away upon ber ear

oame a thrill of pain to Elinor. 'But I can bear it,' she was saying to herself bravely. *0! I can bear it.' Forbad she not caught a glimpse of his faco— tho handsome faco made strong by a new purpose 1 Tbe music changed into a wild clash and jangle of joy, snd a sudden gladness filled her heart—almost like the reioicing which was to have come by ana by.

They passed on down the rooms— Mrs. Esterly with a graceful word lor the people It was safe to know,

polite

Eroxrible

and

obliviousness to every one else. •Mr. Jocelyn 1 A mercy, I am sure:' as Jack Jocelyn's countenance beamed upon them# *If vou could take us out of this! I suppose there must be a

laee somewhere for one to breathe, ia it not? There, that will do, thank you.' When they had gained a wide corridor, comparatively empty, which led to tho ball room. A galop, is It? Certainly, Elinor, I »eeUjor Spence is trying to reach us don wait, I shall do nicely now, and you oan find me here When yon retord/ Ho Elinor, leaning upon Jack Jooelyn

room., Sucli With Jack Jooelyn radiant and happy, whispering she knew not what In ber ear, whil* the music that tried to be gay but hold ever, a minor refraiiy Uko

«. T* 4'

tendarly. 'Why did you not toll mar for Elinor's feet had suddenly lagged in the measure, while a strange faintneaa crept over her aa, after one breathless pause, while ber heart stood still and the biasing lights blurred and dimmed before ber eyes, there came slowly borue to her down the length of the room the song wbinh Deck had chanted upon the rocka—tbe song which needed no words. It wss nothing, he bad ssld, without the twinkle of dancing feet.

Take me away,' she whispered O! Jsck, plesse take me away.' It was a pretty little neat under the winding stairs where he led her half hidden by a curtain of trailing vines, eoftly lighted a bower from an old songt all fragrant with hellotropea, all silver and pink—even to the rosebuds under the slippered leet. She lay back in one of tbe delicate gotbic chairs, her eyes closed, her hsnda Mien upon ber knee—like a pictured queen who had found ber crown heavy for the moment and ao had laid it aaide like some poor young queen who carried aqueena heart—heavy and sad—Jack Jocelyn thought, and yet never guessing the truth, thinking only of her beaaty and her weariness, and reproaching himself.

Suddenly the vines swayed and parted. It was Diedrich Lisle who flung the pretty green curtain aside, tearing it in bis haste. 'Elinor!' he exclaimed with a great gladness in his voice. She started, sitting upright, unclosing her eyes, the red called back to her cheek then he hesitated, he stood still in hla place staring at Jack Jocelyn, whose hand rested upon the back of ber chair. All the eagerness and joy died out of bis face. 'I am too late,' be said, turning slowly awav. But Elinor rose from her chair. No queen ever left her throne in such haste. 'I think,' she began, stammering and blushing, and yet drawing near, 'I believe I have been waiting for you.' And she laid her band in bis arm. The flowers in her lap bad fallen to tbe floor. Her gown swept them as he ledger away.

Jack Jocelyn, picking up the bruised forgotten blossoms, gazed after her confused, stunned, a blur before his eyes. Poor Jack Jocelyn

I dared not come to you—not yet at least,' Deck was saying 'but I thought if you were here to-nigbt I should know I had given it up in despair, when half an hour ago some one spoke your name. I have searched every where for you since then. 'Proud as a queen,' they said, when they spoke your name —and I—lam a mechauic, felinor, while you are born to the purple. I have worked with my hands, perhaps I may again I like it, I bolieve I have found my place at last. What do you say to that?' He spoke hurriedly, anxiously, but with no shame in his voice, rather with honest pride. •What do I say?' Elinor answered with a soft little laugh,—all this seemed as nothing to her. Besides she had known it for a long time, longer than he imagined. 'I will say anything you wish, Deck.'

What could he desire more •O, you silly people!' was Mrs. Esterly's comment and congratulation when they stood hooded and cloaked under the porte-cochereatlast, waiting for tho carriage:'when all this might have been a year ago or moro, aud saved a deal of heart-ache.' And she glanced at Elinor as she spoke.

Deck bad taken a heavy plaid from his

own

shoulders and was throwing it

over Elinor's white wrap to shield her from tho night air. 'Aro you sorry?' sho asked, anxiously searching his face, under frho gas-light. 'No, a thousand times, no,' be answered. At which Mrs. Esterly wondered but Elinor understood it all, and was content.

FAMILY GO VERNMENT. William, stop that noise, I say! Won't you stop? Stop, I tell you, or I'll slap your mouth."

William bawls a little louder.^ William, I tell you, ain't you going to stop? Stop, I say 1 If you don't stop I'll whip you,sure."

William goes up a fifth and beats it is he el I never saw such a child! He got temper enough for a whole town. I am sure he didn't get it from me. Why don't you be still Whist, whist. Come, come, be still, won't you? Stop, stop, stop. I say Don't you see this stick See here, now?" (Cuts the air witb tbe stick.)

William, more furious, kicks very manfully at his mother, grows redder in the face, lets out the last note, and begins to reel, and shake and twist, in a most spiteful manner. "Come, William! come dear—that's darling—naughty William! Come, that's a good boy don't cry, p-o-o-r little fellow sant abose you, shall he? Ma's little man want apiece of soogar? Ma's little boy got cramp? p-o-o-r little sick boy 1" etc.

William wipes up, and minds, and eats his sugar and stops. AfterScbnb.—The minister is present, and a very nice talk is going on upon the necessity of governing children. "Too true." says mamma, "some people will give up to their children, and it ruins them—every child should be governed. But then it won't do to carry it too far if one whips all the time, It will break a child's spirit. One ought to mix kindness and firmness together in managing children." •'I think so/' says the preacher firmness first, and then kindness."

Yea, air that's my practice exactly."—[Beecher.

It is wrong to oat without an appetite, for it ahows there ia no gastric juice in the stomach, and that nature docs not need food, and not needing it, there being no fluid to receive and act upon it, It remains there only to purify, the very thought of which should be sufficient to defer any man from eating without an appetite, the remainder of bis life. If a tonic Is taken to whet the appetite it is a mistaken course, for its only resalt is to cause one to eat more, when already an amount has been eaten beyond what the gastric juice is sble to prepare. Tbe object to be obtained is a larger supply of gastric juice, not a larger supply of food, and whatever fails to qpcomnllsh that object, Calls to have any efficiency toward tbe cure of dyspeptic diseases. Tbe formation of gastric juice is directly proportioned to the wear and tear of the system, which it is to be the means of supplying, and this wear and tear can only Uke place as the result of exercise The efficient remedy for dyspepsia is work—out-door work—beneficial and successful in direct proportion as It is agreeable, Interesting and profitable.—[HaH's Journal of Health.

PKDM.trrO has its peril* In Vermont. A German tried to sell some of his goods to a farmer's wife, when her drunken husband ordered him to quit the bo***, and then snot him dAd. It was emotional insanity, taken wy freely from a kerosene can. The fluids didn't mix well.

ftn

j»

Caugh tij is.

Trap.

Lennox Ray sprang from the train just as the June sonshlne was drooping down in the West in a flood of golden glory, and tbe air was fragrant with the perfume of new mown hay, and dewy with tbe approaohing twilight. •Well this Is rather purer than London air aighed Lennox, drawings deep breath of delight, as he hastened up tbe green lane to the wide, oldfaablonod farm houae,

Salio!'

carrying

greeting,

his va

lise in his hand. 'I wonder if Nannie

it my note, and is looking for me.

Th la laat exclamation was drawn from Mr. Ray's lips by a big, ripe berry, which descending from above somewhere, came Into audden contact with his nose. He looked up, and there, perched like a great bird on the bough of a large cherry tree, and looking down at him, with dancing eyea and brilliant cheeka, was a young girl, pretty and willful enough to set a man crasy. •How do, Lennox? Come up and have some cherries!' waa ber mischievous

with saucy dimples play

ing about her crimson lips. •NannieI Is it possible?' exclaimed Lennox, sternly.

What 1 that the cherries are ripe Yes, and splendid, too! Have some? returned the nymph, coolly holding out a great ruby cluster.

Nannie, will you come down from there?'said Mr. Ray, not seeming to notice the cherries.

Yes, to be sure, now you've come, and I have bad all the cherries I want ed.'

And while Mr. Ray looked on In stern disapproval, the young witch swung herself lightly down from ber perob, and lit on tbe grass at his feet. •Now, don't look serious Lennox, dear!' she said, slipping her little hands into bis with a coaxing motion. I know it is Tom-boyish to -climb the cherry tree, but then its such fun.' •Nannie, you should have been a a id

I wish I had Then I wouldn't have everybody scolding me if I happened to move. No I don't either for then you wouldn't have fallen In love with me. What made you, any way, dear she said, with a fond glance ana a caressing movement.

Because you are a sweet darling! answered Mr. Itay, melted in spite of himself. 'But I do wish, Nannie, you would leave off these boydonish ways and be more dignified.'

Like Miss Isbaui asked Nannie. Miss Isham is a very superior woman, and it would not hurt you if you would copy her in some respocts, said Lennox, coldly.

The

tears sprang into Nannies eyes at his tone she loosened her arm from bis, and dropping down on the emerald grass at his feet, began to bnud a bracelet of tho long blades, In silence with a grieved expression around hor sweet mouth he did not see. 'There cried Lennox, pettishly.

Now you look more like a five-year old baby than a well-bred young

^Nannie threw away her bracelet and got up again. 'I didn't mean to vex you. Shall we go in?'sho said.

They went into tho parlor, and Mr. Ray took a seat in tho groat arm chair while Nannie ilutig open the window and dropped down on her knees beside it,letting her glossy curls fall in a great shower on the window sill.

Now, don't do that!' exclaimed Mr. Itay, drawing a chair near his own. 'Come here und sit down like a rational being.'

Nannie gfcV# ft rueful glance at the stitt backed cliair, but giving her curls a toss backward, obediently went and Bat down. •I wish you would put up those flyaway curls and dress your hair as other young ladies do,'said Mr. Ray. 'And see here, Nannie, I want ts have a talk with you. You know I love you but in truth, my dear, my wife must have something of the elegance of refined society. Your manner needs polish, my dear.'

Nannie

roddened, and her scarlet lip

curled a little but she said nothing. •A few weeks in fashionable circles will be a groat benefit to you, and I wish you to have tbe opportunity. In short, doar, I came down to tell you that my Bister Laura is making up a party to visit some noted watering place this summer, and she wishes you to be one of the number. And I wish you to accept tho invitation, Nannie.

Are you going?' asked Nannie. N a a it

But I

shall see you several times. You will go.' •Oh, Lennox, don't make me!' sobbed Nannie, hiding her face on bis shoulder, a vision of his stylish aud haughty sister rose before her. 'I don't want to go! I bate fashionable society I don't want to be polished! I'd rather stay here in the country, and not wear any bonnet, and climb cherry trees every day.'

Nannie! I am surprised at this display of childishness I mast insist on more self-control,' he said coldly. •But don't send me away! Don't Lennox,' she pleaded.

I must!' be returned, but moro gently, softened a little by her agitated eagerness. 'It's for your good, Nsnnie. and you must consent to go. Will you?'j VVjfc

The

supper bell rang at this instant, and anxious to escape before the rest of tbe family came in and aaw ber tears Nannie hastily answered, 'Yes, let me go, Lennox and ran out of tbe room, and up stairs to her own chamber.

They were at supper before sbe came down again witb smooth curls, snd no traces of tears, but with a bright light In ber brown eyes, and a .firm look on ber pretty face and as she went through tbe bailout to the vine-shaded porch where the tea-table was set, she murmured 'Yes, I'll gol And 111 teach you one lesson, Mr. Lennox liay. See if I don't.'

It was Lennox Ray'a intention to join bis sister's party In July, but bis law business prevented him. When Nannie received the letter expreasing his regrets she only smiled, and said to herself, 'AH the better. I shall have more time to learn my lesson more thoroughly by September, Mr. Lennox.'

It was nearly the middle of September before Mr.Ray, heated, dusty and weary, entered his room in the Scarborough not el, where his sister's party was stopping,

Dear little Nannie,' he said, as he made a careful toilet, before going down stairs. *1 am dying to see ber, and I know she'll be glad to see me. A moment of her sweet naturalness will be quite refreshing after all these artificial women. They don know I ve come, so ml go down and surprise them.'

As he entered the apartment, amid the flash of jeweia and rustle of silks •bi4 iH*f. he met bis sister Laura. 'Lennox 1 you here?'she said, giving him two white bands.

Yes, where Is NannleT' Sbe was on tbe terrace talking witb

a French Covnt, a moment there ahe is bv the door*' Ah I' said Lennox, dropping Laura'®* band and maktnig his Way toward the door.

But it irae difficult, even when he drew near to see this stylish, stately lady, whose hair war pat tip over a monstrous chignon, add whose lustrous

ro OVftr

the floor fbr a yard, hi9

own little Nannie of three months ago. Lennox strode up with scarce a glance at the bewhiskered dandy to whom she was chatting, and held out his hand with an eager exclamation, •Nannie I'

She made a sweeping courtesy, and languidly extended the tips of her fingers but not a muscle moved beyond what aocorded with well-bred indifference. 'Ah {good evening, Mr. Rsy.» ',(I' •Oh, Nannie! are you not glad to see ^7,

feelln8

bis heart

chilled within him. Oh, to be sure, Mr. Ray—quite glad. Allow me to^present Count ds Beaure* paire. Mr. Kay, monsieur.'

Lennox hardly deigned a bow to the Frenchman, and offered hia arm to Nannie. •You will walk with me a little while?' •Thanks but tie music is beginning, and I promised to dauce with Mr. Blair.'

But afterwards?' said Lennox, the chill growing colder. •Thanks again but I am engaged to Captain Thornton.'

Well then demanded Lennox with ajealous pang. Ah, really my card Ib so full I hardly know. I will try to spare you a waits, somewhere,' with an indifferent glance.

Lennox bent down, and spoke with bitter reproach in her ear, "Good heavens, Nannie! What affection 1s this

Sbe favored him with a woll bred stare. Pardon! I do not understand you.'

And taking tbe arm of ber escort she walked away with the air of an emP1"®88* Ji-.-.iKf «is

Lennox sought his sister, Laura, how have you changed Nannie so?* be demanded.

Yes, sbe has changed—greatly im-/ proved. Isn't she perfect?' Perfect! Rather too perfect to suit me.'

To-morrow I shall see more of Nannlo,' he thought. But to-morrow, and to-morrow, nncV to-uiorrow, it was always the same,anu •that elegant Misslrving.'asthey styled her, was always in demand. She played the role of an accomplished lady, an icy-hearted coquette, to perfection aud poor Lennox, from the distanco at which she kept him, looked on almost hoart-broken, varying between wratb, jealousy, pride and despair.

Nannie!' said he,one morning wheu he found lier alone, 'bow long is this to last?'

How long is what to last?' asked Nannie, innocently. •How long are you going to remain the conventional creature you are?' 'I believe you wished mo to come here to improve my manners, Mr. Hay to acquire tho elegance of society she said, coldly. •But Nannie—' f. -a 5'

Your sister thinks I have been an apt pupil.'| 'Yes, too apt, by heavens!' cried^ Lennox.

Woll, if you ain't ploased with the result of your own advice, I ain not to blame. You must excuse me, Mr. Itay, I am going to rido with Count do Beauropaire.'

And with her swoetost, hollowost smile, sho tnado a graceful gesture o(y adieu, and left him sick at hoart, puj sslod and disgusted.

That aftornoon, as Laura and Nunnio were about dressing for tho evening Lennox walked unannounced into Laura's little parlor, wliore thoy sat alone.

I thought I'd drop in and say goodbye, beforo you went down stain*,' said he.'I leave for London to-night.'

Laura elevated hor eyebrows a littlo. •Sudden, isn't it? But as you aro going I will give you some commissions.'

I a a In

town for a d«y.' Indeed Where are you going •Oh, 1 don't know,' was his savage

Eaura gave him a look of cool surprlso. At least you will tako ft noto to George for me,'

Yes, if you get it ready,' said ho ungraciously. Very well I will write it.'

Laura went to her own room, and Lennox stood moodily at tbe window. Presently Nannie, who had not spoken one word, came and stood near him. •Are you really going away,' sho asked.

Yes I am,' was tbe short answer. •And yeu wont tell mo where?'

11don't

know myself—neither know

nor care,'he growled. She slipped her hand in bis arm,with tbe old caresslngmovement bo remembered so well, aim spoke gently, using bis first name for the first time since he came.

But, Lennox, dear, if you go away off somewhere what shall I do?' He turned suddenly and caught he to bis heart.

Ob, Nannie, Nannie I' cried he, pas sionateiy, 'if you would only com back to mo, and love mo—if I could recover my lost treasure, I would not go anywhere. Ob, my lost love, Is it too late?'

She laid her face down against bis shoulder and asked, 'Lennox, dear, tell me which you love best, tbe Nannlo you used to know or the fasbionablo young lady you found here rth Kunnfo D&rllnal' he cried

Oh, Nannie, Darling 1' elasping her close, wouldn't give ono

JOr

ireclous toss of "your old brown cnrl all tbe fashionable young ladies tbe world. I wouldn't give ono careless ring of your merry laugh for all the polished oelles in society. I would not, my darling, I would not.

Nannie laid her arms caressingly sround bis neck, and said softly. Then I think you will have to take yon Nannie back again, and pet her and love her as you used to do for I am as and tired of the fashionable young lady ss yon can bo, Lennox, dear.*

And Lennox passionately clasping ber to biro, begged to be forgiven, and vowed ho would not exchange bis precious little wild rose for all tho hothonse flowers In Chlstendom. •Laura!' Lennox called, tapping on Laura's door a little later. i'-j

Wrell?' answered I/iura. You needn't write your shan't go to town to-night.'

Lennox snd

young

note. I

I»nnox, I never saw such to take fancies ciied Laura, you crazy

a fellow

JAr

Nannie

have been *edat»

married people for several years, but I never heard that Lennox complained lu the least of his wife's want of conventionality, or even winhed^ to pu sue the acquaintance oj the ftehionable

4ady whom be met at Scar

borough. ,*

.,u '-"4

V-S*!--.. klif. 4