Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 6, Number 33, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 12 February 1876 — Page 2

R'

V,£V

J*""

&V '4 s,

f\-

n'

,,f

V.

i-r~\ S-$5 *4k. E\ -**s£

-Isfiisg

'LUFC

mi

«£v,

p*, f*

CTV:

-V*

THE MAIL

•|A PAPER FOR THE PEOPLE.

TEBRE HAtJTB FEB. 12,1876.

[From Tht» Commercial Advertiser.] MY "AFFINITY." -'BYJ.A^ACLUM. I found her In ho cars shelooked divinely. Her eyi* were bright a« stars she siuilta benignly Then sighed a ilttleslgh, with look dejected, And said, "Alone am I, and unprotected. Her eye* were dim with tears. How sadly tender! I BA^"

here have no fears, for I'd defend her, Her rnct-ka flushed like the

rose

bjnnet,

Journey."

upon her

My thoughts flowed not in prose, but in the HOllIK.-t. How vrry kind of yon. (Mamma would chide me) ., Now, pray, be seated, do, right heie beside

XBG*

I quickly acquiesced who could resist lier' 1 felt that I were blest could I assist lier. Her manner toward me then grew so coufl8hesald5'In Oenesee I'm now residing My father waits me there (a rich attorney, And,but for your kind care I'd dread tin

I thought, "What bliss to be her guide, In •tractor, Residing by the sea, in— The conductor Here passed along the aisle, my ruptures breaking. And with a sunny smile the tickets taking. The fair one atiny side, so airy, artless, In trembling accents cried (I felt quite heartless 0 "I've lost my pocket-book!—loan, If you can, sir—" Her fare from mine I took: this was my answer. She thanked meo'erand o'er (her name was

Bunnell,)

As we with deafniug roar plunged in a tun In fear she grasped.my arm: how like a sis tor! To quiet her alarm, I think I kissed her. The flame of love thus fanned (0 why arrest

It?

I took her dimpled hand and gently pressed it— Zoands! here was Genesee! and as we partShe said, "Itemember me," quite brokenhearicd. 1 mused Shall I one day to marry meet her? ,, She's stolen my heart away, and gold repeater My wallet, too! The jade! to so deceive me!" But 'twas her business, trade, to thus re llcve me. Oil, why wns I so blind? I might have known it? Bat when deceived, I find 'tis well to own it.

MORAL.

Young men. beware of pretty stringers. Oo wed a country lass, and—Join the Grangers

The Mystery at Blackwood Grange.

BY MRS. MAY ACINUS FLEMING Author of "A Wonderful Woman," "A Mad Marriage," Ac., &c.

CHAPTER V.

"NEW HOPE MAY BLOOM." I wonder il I shall seo him tonight?"

The August roees were all in scarlet bloom around that fair southern mansion, deopin the heart of the most beautiful State, Maryland. It stood quite alono, an Imposing structure of the red sandstone of the district, buried in a primeval wilderness of giant trees. So high, so dark, towered those monster oaks and giant pines, and grand old homlocks that the green gloain of the woods wan duskily cool in the most Mazing noontide. It had been called Heuilock Hollow, *"*0 unon a time but when it passed into the hands of Miss Amy Earle, that romantic little lady had rechristened it immediately "Blackwood Orange."

It is as Isolated. and lonely as poor, dear Mariana's 'Moated Grange the young lady said, "A murder might be done in the depths of vondor woodland, by a sooond Eugene Aram, and no one lie the wiser. It's a dear, delightful, dismal old place, and I mean to make it my permanent home."

This sultry August evening, Miss Earle stands alono at the drawing-room window, gazing out. with dreamy blue eyos, at the exquisite summer prospect. A velvet lawn, a brilliant flower-garden with a plashing fountain, and .bees and butterflies booming la roses and lilybells swelling meadows, rich with golden harvest, and dense, black slopes of woodland down to the shore of the Chesapeake. A lovely prospect, in the hush of the summer sunset, the sky all pearl and azuro, and In the far West a gorgeous ori flam mo of lurid glory.

The golden haired heiress stood looking at all this splendor of earth and sky, with eyes that saw nothing of its radiance. Very pretty she was looking, in ber summery-whitemuslin, with blush roses in hor broast, and the nimbus of amber hair rippllng^brightly down to

the slender little wa I wonder if I shall see him this even* ins He is always theie In the twilight playing. Oh! how be doee play I No mortal hand ever made such heavenly music before!"

Yes, it bad «ome to that. George Wlldalr was nearly a year in the cold crave, and another man was the "him" of Amy Earle's thoughts, this August sunset. She had been very sorry, unutterably shocked, at her betrothed husband's tragic end there bad been womanly weeping and hysterlos—but she had never loved the dead man with any very passionate devotion, after all. The hysterics pawed, and Mr. Wildalr was buried, and Miss Earle retired into ormpeand bombasine, and the seclusion of tbe Maryland mansion, and became a hopeless prey to enul ami sensation novels. They had buried him, and no doe bad been found to bis mysterious and awful death and now, scarce a Tear after, he was forgotten. He had been a selfish Sybarite aU his life, and there were tow to regret his wsgie end.

Asnv ISertte had spent a very dreary winter. The show had felMn thick and •high around Blackwood Orange, and the wild winds had howled* through the leaflets tree*. Tbe roads were utterly imMSsable. Society became a memory

ofthepaet.

f, A

•x.

Mrs. Sterling and her ward

foundfiteasbtfpeleealy dull as ever did Mariana in her Grange. Their only vl* Hor wis tbe elfcrgyman of Si.Judo,and

occasionally a Byi** John Sterling. Dr. John SterUng, with bis cheery feee, and heart vpi^. and loud, houeet laugh, and genUl food humor, came like a

sun-burst

I know and she is learning every day to love him." But "Man proposes—— You know the proverb. John E^rling dashed all these high hopes the

^It'was a tomwwtu^Msrcl^igh^ tbe wind howledVandthemow^l^d the darkness was as the darkness of Erebus. The voong doctor was plunRintt along the blockaded road from St. Jiule's in fur cap and overcoat, and £n£d wUh a stout stick. He knew every inch of the way, and no tempest that ever shrieked through the earth was fierce enough to keep him pnsoner. He nlunged along resolutely, with the sleet slashing in his face, and was within a quarter of a mile of Blackwood Grange, when a belated wayfarer started out from the shelter of a tree, and faced him.

I have lost my way," said a j^eculiarly clear, melodious voice. "I want to go to St. Jude's. I sun almost perished—will you kindly direct me?"

John Sterling stopped and tried to see the man's face, but tne darkness baffled him.

You are very good," the stranger an' swered. "I accept your offer with thanks. Dr. Sterling." "Hallo!" cried John "you know me, do you 1 By Jove! I wish you joy of your eyesight, for it would puzzle a cat to see in this gloom." "I have heard your voice before, said his companion, quietly "and I have a good memory for voices. "And who are you, my friend? inquired Dr. Sterling.

My name is Victor Latour—the new organist of St. Jude's." Oh, indeed I have seen you, then, and heard you play. Very happy to make your acquaintance, Mr. Ij^tour and I shall be happier when we get out of this confounded snow-storm. How came you to be belated so far from the village?"

Miss Hotton, of Mount Hotton, is one ef my pupils. I lingered over her lesson rather late, and set out to return, despite the entreaties of the family. I think I should have paid for my folly, by perishing in the snow-drifts, if I bad not had the good fortune to encounter you. Your destination is Blackwood Granpe, I presume

It is and I mav safely promise you a cordial welcome, on the part of its fair mistress." "Hospitality is a paramount virtue among yon here." said the organist. "I have seen Miss Karle at church."

And a very pretty girl sho is," said John Sterling "and as good as she is pretty. She is devotedly fond of music, too so yxu have it in your power to, make her very happy this evening."

No more was said. They reached the house, divested themselves of their caps and great coats, stamped the snow from their top-boots, and were ushered by a sable damsel into the pretty amber drawing room.

Mrs. Sterling sat before the fire knitting. Miss Earlo lay on a lounge, yawning over a book. Even sensation novels, when OBe has a surfeit of them, will pall upon the youthful intellect. Both started up eagerly to welcome Dr. John.

How do, mother How do, Amy Horrible weather, isn't it Allow me to present Mr. Victor Latour, the new organist of St. Jude's. I found him like "bne of the babes in the woods, nearly buried alive, and rescued him from an untimely end, like the good Samaritan I am." ...

Mr. Latour bowed to the ladies with easy grace, took a seat, and was at home at once. Miss Earle stole a second glance at him from under her eyelashes. How very handsome he was Dark, and pale, and interesting—just Miss Earlers style, with raven hair and moustache, and slow, sleepy,wonderful black eyes.

If he had a Greek cap, and a crimson sash, and a cimeter by his side, be would look like the Corsair," Amy thought. "Inevorsaw a more perfect nose: anrl I always did adore those creamy Creole complexions. Victor Latour! Such a dear romantic name, too! I really think he is the handsomest man I ever saw."

Supper came in—a supper for Sybarites, or the gods. Mr. Latour was delightful he talked with an easy grace, and a general knowledge of everything under the sun. Miss Earle listened entranced. The slow, sleepy blaok eyes wandered very often to the pretty rosehuod face, thrilling her through with some strange mesmeric power. It was the hero of hor dreams at last—Count Lara in the flesh.

Mr. Latour played. The superb piano under those slender, white fingers, gave forth grand, grateful tonos—the room was flooded with heavenly melody. Mr. Latour had the soul of a Beethoven, or a Mozart and the magnificent strains held his hearers entranced for hours. It was a charming evening, ono to be remembered long after and before it was over, Miss Amy Earle waa deeply, and romantically, and hopelessly in love.

She sat up late thai night, quite into the small hours, nestling over the fire, listening to tbe wild beating oi the wintry storm, and dreaming delicious dreams.

How divinely handsome he is! How ..jagnlftcently he plays! How delightfully he talks 1" So ran the burden of her thoughts. "I never saw such eyes, and I never heard a prettier name. How lad I am John Sterling fetched him lere tc-night."

That was the beginning of the end. Mr. Lstour departed next day, but only to come agsin, and again, ana yet again, to Blackwood Orange. Miss Earle was seised with a sudden passion for Improving herself in music, and began taking lessons immediately. March, April, May flew by like swift dreams. Summer came, golden, glowing—the most glorious summer In Amy's lire. She was in love—passionately, ridiculously a romantic girl's first love, and the world was Eden, and she the happiest Eve that ever danced in the sunshlne.

And Victor Latour—was he In love, too. With the bright little heiress? Mr. Latbw was a punle and a mystery. There were times when no lover could be»more love-like, more devoted, when smiles lit np the dark Creole face, and every look was love. Then Amy's bliss was complete.

He loves me, I know," her foolish heart would flatter. "He will gropoee the very next time we meet. Oh, my darling If

yon

in upon their

darkness and Amy grew toooontthe days of his absence drearily* and wish

"dear

old Jack" would oidy oomsland live with them for good. AnjTMrs. Sterling listened wUh^s^exjulUtion.

only knew bow much

I

loveyoa!" .. The next time would eomjt, and lot Mr. Laionr came with it, dark, cold, moody, wrapped in gloom and mystery —grim and wftmUlng as doom. Amy trembled before tboee sombre black eyw. He wss more like the Oorsalr, perhaps, than ever. But poor Amy began to think that*moody and mysterious beings were plssaanter in Ixrd Byron's poems than in actual life.

I wonder if be ever committed murder, like Eugene Aram: or lost an idolised Medora, as l*nrad did Miss ISarie thought. "Oh I why don't he «psak oak when he knows, he must know, I adore him."*

This sultry August evening she stood wistfully gazing at the sunset, and thinking despondently of her Idol.

further

0.

It Is three miles from here to St. jade's—too far for any man on such a night. You had better come with nie I think I can iosure you a supper and a bed."

There,

TEKRE TTAITTE BATL/RDAY EVENING MAIL

He was positively rude to me last ig," Miss Earle Rochester never was m«re grumpy

le reflected. Mr. to

evening," Miss Rochester tievei Jane Ere. I wonder if I shall see him to night?

He

7,U

Is always plaS»g the or­

gan in the church at this neur. I think

take a walk up to the village ghe took her bat and tripped away, walking swiftly, considering the heat, Blackwood-Jay behind her sno was out in the dusty high-road, alone, under the opal-tinted sky. No, not alone her heart gave a great plunge. There, coming toward lier, wa« the solemn figure she knew so well. That slow, graceful walk—ah!

oflf. she would have

known her handsome lover! Mr. Latour wasfn bis brightest moods this sultry twilight. He drew Amys arm though his own, as one who had tbe right, bending his stately head oyer her, and mesmerizing her with the witchery of those glorious black eyes Verly slowly they sauntered along^ Amy was in no hurry now—she had got all she wanted.

John Sterling had chosen this even injr to pay a visit to his mother and her ward. Half an hour after, he strode »ver the dusty highway, whistling cheerily, and looking tip at the round, white, August moon. He had entered Blackwood, and was approaching the house at a swinging pace, when he suddenly stopped.

before him, walk­

ing as lovers walk, bending, whispering, loitering, were two forms ho knew well. All flashed upon him at the sight. "Lost!" lie- said, turning very pale. "Lost for the second time! My mother was right—I have lingered too long! And I love her as that man never can!"

CHAPTER VI. AMY'S WEDDING DAY.

Mr. Latour did not enter the house with Amy. He parted from her,under the waving hemlocks, with along, lingering. lover's kiss. Dr. Sterling and he met, face to face, in tho silvery moonlight. Ho touched his bat and passed rapidly on, but not before John had seen his face. How deathly pale he was! What a wild gleam there was in his weird, black eyes! The light of those spectral eyes macle tho young doctor recoil. "Good heaven!" he thought, "he looks like the Miltonic Lucifer with that livid face, those flaming eyes, and that dark demoniac beauty. Who is he? What is be He is not a good mail: we know no more of him than if he had dropped from the moon, although he has been among us over half a year. And that romantic child is ready to die, or go mad for his sake. My friend Latour.I think I'll turn amateur detective, and hunt up 3Tonrantecedents."

Dr. John met with rather a cool reception, on this particular evening, at tbe hospitable mansion. Mrs. Sterling was decidedly cross and out of sorts perhaps she suspected, or had seen that parting embrace under the hemlocks. She had no patience with her son's tardiness, and delicate scruples of conscience about marrying heiresses. And Miss Earle, wrapped in a bliss too intense for smiles or words, sat by the window, and gazed out at the silvery moonlight.

Dr. Sterling departed early, with a farewel I reproach to the ladies. "You are both so entertaining this evening, that it is hard to tear one's self away but I have an interesting case up in the village, and business before pleasure, you know. Good-Bye. I trust the next time I get to Blackwood, you'll be able to make a remark or two about tho weather, at least." "We are rather silent, to-night,"she said. "A penny for jour thoughts, ma werfi."

I can read yeurs without a penny," retorted the older lady, with some asrity. "Victor Latour, of course! here were you this evening, Miss Earle

Miss Earle blushed celestially in the shimmering dusk. Up at the village."

It appears to me you are very fond of twilight rambles up to thre village of late. Mr. Latour was with j'ou, of course?"

Yes," very falteringly. "Mr. Latour was with me." "And parted with you out yonder with a most affectionate embrace! You don't choose to make me your confident, Miss Earle but if you want to kiss gentlemen, mb rosa, pray take a more retired spot than the open avenue,"

Amy's golden head drooped lower. Sho was a timid, clinging little creature, in whose nature it was not to be haughty or angry. She was very fond of this severe matron and* tho starry, bluo eyes filled with tears now.

Dear Mrs. Sterling," she said, "my Second mother, don't bo angry with poor Amy. I couldn't help it. I—I love him—I love him, oh, so dearly?"

And he!" said Mr. Sterling, bitterly. "Is it you, or your fortune, he loves? Oh Amy Earle! you foolish, sentimental child, what madness is this? That man does not love you—I know it I have watched him. He does not love you but he will marry yon, and he will break your heart."

No, no, no!" Amy cried shrilly. "He loves me—ho is true as heaven 1 Say what you please to me, Mrs. Sterling, but noi one word against him I will not hear it!"

The little head reared itself, the blue eyes quite flashed. No," cried the angry matron. |4You will not hear it, you will not hear it no need to tell me that! I know what it is to talk to a girl in love. But, tell me, what do you know of this man beyond his romantic name, bevond his effeminate, handsome face? What? You will marry him for his black eyes, and his redan nose, and his sensation-novel name and if he turns out a New York pickpocket, or gambler, you will have no right to complain."

Mrs. Sterling!" I repeat it, Amy—what do you know of him? He may'bea thief, bra murderer, for what you can tell to the contrary. My own opinion is, he has come here man to take place?"

purpoeely to entrap you Into mad -riage. Pray, Miss Earle, when Is it

The blue eyes flashed defiance for the flrst time in Amy's gentle life, the slender, little form quite towered In its innation.

I dont know, Mrs. Sterling—but very soon. Victor loves me, and there is no need to wait. I will marry htm ss soon as he pleases."

Not a doubt of it! I wish you Joy of yohr bargain," Miss Earle! I have no mote to say but remember in tbe future I have warned you! He is not a g«od man there isgnilt and mystery in his life—I am as certain of it as that I live. As his wife, your existence will be one of misery destitution, perhaps, when he has squandered what ne marries you for—your fortune. I wish you xxi night.**

Mrs. Sterling swept stormily out of the room, yet "more io sorrow than In anger." And Amy, left alone, threw herself on asofk, and all tihu*ed to these stormy scenes, went as die had never wept before in her lib.

How cruel, bow utmost she is!" tbe little boims sobbed:

Mand

all ttecaose

she wants me to marry John. I know

she does, though John doesn't want me, nor I him. But she shall not shake my faith in Victor—no one on earth shall shake it. And I will marry him soon as be likes and I don't care whether be ever tells me anything of his antecedents or not."

The elder and younger lady met yery coolly at breakfast. Mrs. Sterling was sullenly dignified, and Miss Earle vj*® offended. Had she not called her idol a thief and a pickpocket Miss BArle could forgive the grossest insult to herself, but not an insult to her dark-eyed

Mr. Latour called early In the forenoon. Amy was on the watch, and met him in the grouiids. There was a long, long ramble through the sunlit, leafy arcades and Miss Earle, after the fashion of young ladles, retailed every word of last night's conversation. Mr. Latour's black browe contracted in a

swarth

frown, and bis

dark

face whiten­

ed with ansrer. Mrs. Sterling calls me a thief, or a murderer, does she? Really, Amy, your elderly dragon Is of a horribly suspicious tu rn, isn't she Is It for your sake, or for her son's, I wonder

Mrs. Sterling has always been very good to me. Victor Latour," Amy said, dcprecatingly "and I am sure she has my welfare at heart. And you see, dear, we don't know anything of you, except your name, and—and that I love you with all my heart."

The frown deepened under the broad brim of her summer hat. And vou area little suspicious, too, Amy. You must have my biography from the hour of my birth, I presume, before you commit yourself further. And if the history proves unsatisfactory. it is not too late to draw back yet, is it?"

Victor, how unjust you are! No, tell me nothing, since you can rioubt nie tell me nothing, and you will see how perfect love casteth out fear."

And yoawill marry me blindfolded? Take me as I am, '"A ligthsome eye—a soldier's mien,

A feather of the blue

A doublet of the Lincoln green— No more of me you knew, 4' My lovely I

No more of me you knew| IIo looked laughingly down in lier lace as he hummed the ballad, all the clouds gone. "My darling!" She clasped his arm rapturously with both hands, and looked up into hi* handsome face. "I know that I love you dearly, dearly that I could die for your sake Whit more do I need to know "What, indeed! my dear little enthusiast! Nevertheless, I had better make a clean breast of it, for Mrs. Sterling's peace of mind. Unfortunately there is very little to tell, and that little not in the least out of tho ordinary humdrum way. I never was a pick-pocket, never a black -leg I ean safely aver that. I am of French extraction, born in Canada, taught music as a profession and recommended hero as organist. Th^re, you have it let Mrs. Sterling and her son make the most of it."

Amy was satisfied—it was a little vague, but it sufficed for her. Their ramble through the grounds was a very long one, and before It came to an end their wedding day was fixed. "The middle of September is very soon," Amy murmured, deprecatingly "but anything to please you, Victor: and Mrs. Sterling is disagreeable of lato. Won't you come in to luncheon

Not to-day. Tell your duenna by yourself, and I will ride over this evening and see if the shock has proved fatal. Good-by, my own! Soon good-by will be an unknown word between us."

Mrs. Sterling hfcard the news of the approaching marriage with cold scorn. As well this moment as the next," sho said, frigidly, "since it is to be at all. I wash my hands of the whole business."

All the glittering array of bridal finery procured in New York for that other wedding, lay packed up stairs in great boxes still. Amy revolted a little from using it. The odor of death and the grave seemed to hang around it but the time was so short there was no alternative. Glistening robe, misty veil, orange wreath, jeweled fan, dainty Parisian glovos and slippers,saw the light occe more and the summer days flew by, and brought round Amy Earlo's second bridal-twe.

The September afternoon had been lowering and overcast. Sullen clouds darkened the summer sky an ominous hush lay over the earth tho trees shivered in the stillness with the prescience of the coming storm. Through the ominous twilight Victor Latour rode over from the village te spend his bridal-eve with his bride.

How white he was—white to the lips! \nd what a strange fire that was burning duskily In his great, sombre eyes! What -an unnatural expression his face wore when he looked at bis fair bride ekct! Surely, never bridegroom looked like that in the world before.

We are going to have a storm," he said, in a voice as unnatural as his faoe. "Lightning and thunder, and rain, will usher in our wedding-day, Amy."

They were alone together In the pretty amber drawing-room. Mrs. Sterling always swept away haughtily, when the man she dlslined entered. Amy looked up at her dark lover, trembling with vague terror. "How strangely you look, Victor," she faltered. "Whatis it?"

Mr. Latour tried to laugh, but the laugh was a miserable failure. "The weather, I suppose. Thunderstorms always give me tho horrors and superstitious people would call it an evil omen on our bridal-eve. But we are not superstitious, myAmy,sodrawthe curtains, and light tho lamp and the piano, and shut out the world, and let the avenging elements have their fling."

Mr. Latour lingered until past ten. listening to the music of his obedient little slave. He stood behind her chair. She could not see him an4 it was well for her she could not. That rigid, white face—white to ghasUiness those burning, black eyes Lucifer hurled from Heavon might have looked like that.

Amy accompanied her lover to tbe

Krtico.tbe

The storm had not yet burst, the night was inky dark. The darkness or thought Of that other tragic wedding-eve, made her tremble from bead to foot as she bade ber betrothed aoo4-by.

Oh, my love! be careful," she whispered "If anything happens to you, shalidle."

Nothing will

happen 1" He set bis be darkness. "I defy irate us two. Goodour prettiest to»

teeth fierseiy In the

Fate itself to night. Amy look you morrow, my fairy bride.

Tbe storm broke at midnight. The lightning flashed, the thunder rolled, the ridn foil in torrents. Amy. cowering and frightened, huddled under tbe bed-clothes In an agony of terror, and longed unutterably for morning and sunshine.

a

Morning oame, but no sunshine. Tbe sky was still ot lead, the rain stitt fell sullenly, craselessly. Tbe hours wore on—ten, the time for ceremony, arrived the gnests were assembled, shivering in tbe parlor. Tbe bride, lovely In ber bridalrobes, stood ready and waiting in the midst of ber bridesmaids but the

hour had struck before the bridegroom came. He came. The fete that had struck down Geerge Wildair spared Victor Latour. He was there, pale as a dead man, with a look in bis wild eyes that made people recoil in terrer—but there he was, and the ceremony went on.

It was over—Amy wss a bride 1 There was embracing and congratulating. Breakfast was eaten the wedding-dress was changed for the traveling suit the happy pair was in the carriage and away.

They reached Washington that evening, and drove to Williard's Hotel. And all through that day's journey Victor Latour's lips had not opened half a dozen times. Silent, sullen, moody, mysterious, he sat, wrapped in gloom and the light of his weird, black eyes made Amy shiver like an aspen leaf. Oh! what was this that had come upon him on his wedding-day "I have something to say to you, Amy! A secret to tell you—a terrible secret, that you mxst swear to keep."

They were alone in a sprtcious chamber, and these were the first words he had spoken to her. His face looked livid in the gaslight, his eyes were blaring like coals of fire.

Victor!" You must swear, Amy! Never, to your dying day, must you breathe to living mortal the secret I shall reveal to •vou now. Here Is a Bible, lay your hand upon it and swear."

The spectral black eyes held her with their horrible, irresistible light. She could no more have refused than she could have fallen at his feet and died. She laid her hand upen the sacred volume, and repeated after him a terrible oath of secrecy.

And now listen to the secret of my life." There was a secret then! Even in this supreme moment, the old leaven of romance thrilled Amy with a little tremor of romantic delight. She sat down at his feet, and listened to the few slowly spoken words he uttered.

Ten minutes later, Mr. Latour left the room hurriedly, ringing the bell as he left. He meta camber-maid on the landing, hastening to answer his summons.

My wife is ill," he said. "You had bettor try eold water and sal volatile I am afraid she is going to faint."

Ho hurried away. Tho girl looked after him aghast then opened the cham-ber-door, and entered. And there, in a white heap on the carpet, lajr the bride, in a dead swoon.

CHAPTER VII. 1»0ST-NUPTIAL. BLISS.

The waving trees around Blackwood Grange were arrayed' in the sere and yellow leaf long before Mr. and Mrs. Latour returned from their bridal-tour. The shrill winds of October had blown themselves bleakly out in the green glades and leafy arcades, around the stately Maryland mansion and the ides of November bad come when the happy pair returned home.

During tbe two months of her absence Mrs. Latour, for tbe first time in her life, proved herself a bad correspondent. She had written but one letter, and that of tho briefest and brusquest, to Mrs. Sterling. It was a polite notice to quit.

Dear Mrs. Storing," tho bride wrote, "my husband thinks newly-married people are always better entirely by themselves. I shall regret your loss, but, of course, it must be as he says. Nurse Carry is quite competent—tell her to take charge, and have everything prepared for our arrival. We will re turn by tho middle of November."

Mrs. Sterling smiled bitterly over this effusion. You might have spared yourself the trouble of ordering me out, Mr. Victor Latour—if that bo your name. I would not have dwelt uncler the same roof with you for a kingdom. Oh! my poor little Amy You are the veriest puppst that ever danced helplessly in its master's hinds."

Mrs. Sterling departed to St. Jude's, and took up her abode in the bachelor apartments of her son. Th?re cnm« no more letters and Amy had always been addicted to note-scriboling.

4i

But what can you expect?" said Mrs. Sterling, with a bitten laugh, "wrapped as she is in post-nuptial bliss. The sqneme of the universe holds but Mr. Victor Latour just at present. It is to be hoped the illusion will havo worn off before her return." "It isto lie hoped the illusion will never wear off." said John Sterling, gravely, ''if the illusion makes her happier. Don't be so bitter, mother the poor little girl will pay dearly enough for her folly, I dare say. Heaven knows! I wish I ceuld save her."

His mother looked at him almost contemptuously. I don't believe you ever loved her, John Sterling." "That is your mistake, my good mother. I love Amy so well, that If I could see her happy, with the husband of her choice, I should be almost happy myself. You love her, and so ao I, mother but In a different way, I think."

The November day that brought the bridal-pair, came swiftly ronna. The house under Aunt Carry, an intelligent mulatto, who bad been Amy's nurse, was all in order. Fires burned in every room tbe dinner-table was spread and the servants, in gala attire, were waiting to welcome their young mistress home.

The short November afternoon was darkening down into a cold, raw twilight, when the carriage came rattling up the avenue. It had been a dull day, threatening snow a few flakes fluttered now through the opaque air, and the wailing wind was desolation itself. In the cold, bleak gloaming the little bride's teeth chattered as her husband handed her out and ber face looked woefully worn and pallid, as she passed In, leaning upon bis arm. Mr. Latour looked moch tbe same, dark, and oold, and sombre, laid wrapped in his dignified gloom, as In a toga.

Mr. and Mrs. Latour dined tete-a-tete, waited upon by Aunt Carry and ber understrappers. 'The bride scarce touched the tempting viands but Mr. Latour ate and drank with the relish of a hungry traveler.

The quiet little village of St. Jude was on tbe qui vim, the following Sunday, to see the happy pair at church. Mr. Latour had resigned his office of 1st, or course and he and his bride walked up tbe aisle, tbe cynosure of scores of eyea. Mrs. Latonr sbene resplendent mall the glory of New York millinery her drees was exquisite,her mantle a miracle, ber bonnet a perfect love, but—8t» Jude sUred with all its eyes! What was tbe matter with Amy? •fte Christmas snow-drills were not whiter nor colder than her feoe. The bine eyes, once so sparkling and starry, looked out of that p^ldfeoewUha fixed look of untterabie fear ahe stood befbretbem the wan shadow of the radiant little Amy of ten months ago. "She has awakened," saldMrs^terling with a momentary thrill of spirit, notwithstanding ber compassion. "Tbe delation Is over ber idol of gold has turned oat potter's day."

Dr. John looked at the altered feee of tbe girl he had loved then at tbe dark,

impenetrable faoe of tbe man beside her, id his heart hardened. He Is a greater villian than even 1 gave him credit for," he said. "He be-

gmes.

ins the work of breaking ber heart heI would have spared him for her sake if I saw he made her happy now I will hunt -him down as I would a dog."

The numerous friends of Miss Amy Earle began at once to call upon Mrs. Latour. Mrs. Latour received them in her spacious parlors, exquisitely dressed and Afr. Latour was thero to assist ber. Call when they might, the ladies of St. Jude could never find her alone. Near her, bending over her chair, the dark, handsome face, and fathomless, black eyes of Victor Lstour shone, freezing every attempt at confidential conversation. He

WAS

firl

scrupulously polite

—but these ladles went away with no courteous request to repeat tlieir calls. And Amy sat like a white automaton, and talked in monosyllables she who had been the most inveterate of chatterboxes, and looked up at her husband with the wild, wide eyes of a frightened child.

Mrs. Sterling and her son were among Mrs. Latour's callers. That lady was too strong-minded, and too fond of her late charge to be frightened away by the bridegroom's black looks. "I'll go there now, and I'll go again, and again, and still again," she said, grimly. "I don't think Mr. Victor Latour will open the door and order mo out, and nothing less shall affront me. I'm not going to give up my poor little

altogether,to

DO

beaten alive by this

lack-eyed ghoul."

The pale faoe and soared blue eyes of the little bride lit eagerly up, for tho first time, at sight of her old friends. Sho sprung up to meet them with a low cry, but a hand fell lightly on her shoulder from behind. Its touch was light as down, but a mailed gi asp could not havo checked her quicker. "My dear Amy," the soft voice of Victor Latour murmured, "pray don't excito yourself! Be calm! You are glad to soe Mrs. Sterling, no doubt. Toll hor so, by all means but don't make a scene."

Tho black eyes looked down into the blue eyes, and the bride oowored before the bridegroom, as a whipped hound befero its master. Sho hela out hor hand to her old friends with a few coldly murmured words of greeting.

Tho interview was short and eminently unsatisfactory. Strong-minded as Sfrs. Sterling was, conversation was impossible witn that frigid face, and those weird, dark eyes staring ber out of countenance benind Amy's chair.

I shall call te see yoii again, Amy," sho said, pointedly, as sho arose to go, "when the honov-moon ends, and thero is some prospect of my being able to see you alone.*"

Amy looked at her with a startled face, but Mr. Latour answered for lier with a short, mocking laugh.

Tell.your kind old friend, Amy, that our honeymoon has not yot commenced. As to seeing you alono, tell her you hava no secrets from your husband, nor ho from you and that he roally cannot separate himself long enough from his charming bride, even for a confidential gossip with Mrs. Sterling." lie bowed her blandly out as he spoke and, wonderful to relate, Mrs. Sterling went without a word. She looked up into his face defiantly, but the black eyes had met hers with so strange a light in their sinister depths, tb9t„&he•* had absolutely quailed before 4t. "Ho lookea like a devil!" she burst out, to hor son. "The light of those fiorce, black eyes was absolutely horrible. Good heavens! I don't believe the wretch is human!"

He is a bad man," answered

Dr.

Sterling, "and a mysterious man. Thero are dark and deadly secrets in his life, I am certain. Thero is a look in his fac»? that repels me with absolute horror, at, times. I havo doubted—" he paused.

Doubted what?" "It is a terrible suspicion, mother but havo doubtod whether Victor Latour is roally sano. There is a wild, unnatural light in those great black o.yeof his, on occasions, Li.ui novor shine in the eves of a sano man."

Tliero appears to bo method in his madness, at all ovents," retorted his mother. "We was sane enough to secure for himself an heiress."

Tbe SHbtle cunning of partial insanity is a very good substitute for a sam* man's

worldly

wisdom. But it is a re-

volting subject, mother—let us drop it. Poor little Amy!" Poor little Amy, indeed! You may thank yourself for it. The gaino was in your own hands before this man came

4

along. Sho might havo been your wife now, instead of Victor Latour's if you liked."

Dr. Sterling made no reply. His faco wore a look of pain, almost remorse. Poor little Amy! How unhappy she looked! And he had loved ner, and might have made ber his happy wife.

There was a round of dinnerparties iven in honor of tbe bridal-pair, and )r. Sterling and bis mother often met Mr. and Mrs. Latour In society—Mr. Latour always dark, cold, politely frigid and impenetrable, as if tbat handsome face of nis was an iron mask and Mrs. Latour always the same pale, scared, silent shadow. And last of all thero was a grand party at Blackwood Grange, to wind up these entertainments—a very superb affair, indeed and after that, society saw little of the newly-married: couple. Further invitations thoy declined—Mrs. Latour's health,Mr. Latour said, precluded the possibility of gay society.

December came, with snow and high winds, and Amy ceased to appear even at r.liurcb, Mrs.^Sterling grew seriously uneasy, and rode over to Blackwood. Mr. Latour met hor in the hall, told her his wife was suffering from chronic headache, and could see no one and absolutely froze the blood in her veins with the glare of his black oyes-and cowed and conquered, Mrs. Sterling left to call no more.

Christmas came, and New Year's came with their festivities. It was New Year's eve, and Mrs. Sterling sat alone in ber little parlor, waiting for her son. Outside, the snow fell thick and fast, and the winter wind walled. Inside, firelight and lamplight, and a bright little supper table, made a charming picture ot home-like comfort.

Tbe door ofell rang. "Jobn at last," said Mrs. Sterling and rising, she opened the door.

Bat it was not John. A little figure, muffled np from the storm, glided in. It threw back the hood of its cloak, and Mia. Sterling dropped into a chair with a shriek.

Amv!"

Yes, Amy bui so unlike herself, so like a spirit, that for an Instant tbe matron recoiled.

Have I frightened you said the Hweet voice. •'You did not expect New Year's call from me, did you But it is so long, oh! so long! since I saw you, that I could not resist the temptation," "And Mr. Latour?" Mrs. Sterling gasped, "where Is he?"

Gone to 'meet the Captains at the Citadel I mean, to dine at M^jor Mailory's. And I took advantage of bis abtVBtinutdon Thirtl raJ*.