Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 6, Number 50, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 10 June 1876 — Page 6

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THE MAIL

/|A Paper for the ec^e.

•S'iSTJi

MADQ^

TRUAST

xftui BY KATK 1'UTXAM OSGOOD.

The ahudows He sleeping* on Arid and hill The cows came home nn hour Ago The bees are hived, and the nests are still

When- can the child be lingering seT

Oh, where can the HtUe laggard stay bo swift of foot as she IWHever been, It is not so far by the meadow way.

To the lane where the blackberry vines begin. ,.r"!y"" Ht-r mother stands In the door-way Uit«rtJ,

Shading her eyes from the setting sun, And up aud down with an anxious air, Looks for a trace of the truant one.

Has she wandered on where the swamp (lowers blow .. In the darkling wood ana lost her way Ha* she slipped in the treacherous bog below

Thai hides under mosses green and gray Nay, timorous mother, fpare your fears! our little maiden is safe the while. No ronrsh bird screams in her startled oars

No forest mazes her feet beguile.

She is only standing amid the rye, There at the end of the clover plain, And pulling a daisy star, to try

Whether her love loves back again.

And Will bends over the bars boslde— Two heads are better than one, forsdoth Leaning and looking, eager-eyed,

To see if daisy tells the truth! —[Serlbner's Monthly for June.

O iR, -A.,

THE LOST WIFE.

BY BEI-LA Z. SPENCER. :. Author of Tried and True," etc.

i.-j

...

[This Inte-nsHy interesting story was commenced in The Hatuniay Evening Mail, Vol. 0, No. 41—April s. 1S7H. Back numbers can bo had at The Mall o/flce, or sent to any address for five cents a copy.]

CHAPTER XXIV. I

The soft, haze of a summer twilight was upon the earth, and its deeper shadows were creeping slowly into the sick chamber. Calmness reigned throughout the house. All tbingsseemed lulled to repose about it. The invalid slept. Since becoming convalescent, she had slept more than half the time, nnd her guardian grew more quiet and lees aniiods d»v after day. 'Another we»-' had passed. Since the morninr he ht»i imparted the news of Birtoui's death, he had scarcely spoken .-.to her, except to give brief, short orders.

He questioned her no more. His visits now were as frequent, but of shorter duration. Once he had said that his time was very much occupied, and after that, vouchsafed nothing further.

On tills evening, bo came much earlier than usual, and sat talking cheerfully to the invalid till she fell asleep. Then he drew a chair into the piazza in the rear of the building, and sat sometime r/ith his cigar, enjoying tho breeze and the repose of things about him.

Presently he put his head inside the door and called softly: Nurse bring a chair out here."

Rising from the window where she .had been sitting she obeyed. As she •stepped upon the piazza, he took tho chair from her hand and carried it to the farther end. "There, sit down." Si:%"

She hesitated. Is it safe to leave our patient alone

Quite. Else I should not ask you. I want von to myself a little while. She did not like his tone nevertheless she sat down and suffered l.'m to place himself near her,"

I want yon," he began, "that I may express my senses of obligation for the care you have bestowed Hpon that poor girl in there. Yon little know what .she has suQorcd. Did you, your kind heart •would break. I thought should mad sometimes. You have been •Huthful. I foel deeply your dobt«r. know I have said little, bnt I hare serv and felt it none the less. Will you CUMsent to remain her friend and companion, as long as I may wish

I will remain as long as she needs me." And suppose I should wish to take »her away from hero? "Would you travel with her—go wherever she went, and bo everything to her—her true suid staunch friend through all things?"

Ora hesitated in painful embarrassment. How could she promise this with' lit a greater knowledge of the girl she wns requested to call her friend—to be ever wear her, stand in tho light of .companion and most intimate as-iocl-ate?

I would, if I couUl feel assured—"4 Hero she broke down. She could not finish such a sentence to him. A hot flash mounted to her cheeks, and she was silent. "Of what? Of your competency? Never fear. I would trust you with the most precious one on earth. I want change f°r

lier»anf1

ending her

to Newport, or Saratoga for a few weeks. As soon ai she can travel, I must send 'her. You can tako her there. There is no one rise I could trust to do it, and I daro wot follow you for a week. You will I* very quiet, of course. Will be seen very little. I shall send her there for her heal -h, not society. Poor thing, she will not ^ant that now." lie bent his head upon his hands, and nat silent for some minutes. Ora requiet, bat her mind was in a of fearful Indecision. She wanted to ask him a»*otit her history, but rornoroberimi the conversation of a week previous, she dared not do it. How{lered iwr HUengih.

I have not dealt altogether fairly I von, Mrs. Meredith. I ought to have ioUl vou something definite about our position. I saw that yon were nornlexNS.and I er\joyed it too much to break tho charm. I had a desire to see i,ow long you could bear th© nnoortalniv without questioning nie. I tried an exchange of conUdeuce once, bnt failed.

I Intended to have satisfied you then, 4 tnit vo«r reticence deterred me. It shall 'do so no longer. You are at libertv to keep vour secrets. I need you— am satistUl that you will do all I wish

Vou

to do. I know you a fit companion

for my *Ufter, and could wish for no bet-

liis eyes strove to penetrate the dusk, to catch the exproealon of her face, but Suld not. He felt her little start, howeve*- She felt If a weight ted roiled

she exclaimed alter a

Child, did you net

^^bare thought so, sometimes. SU11. eould not understand how ahe ooold lie that

and no

other* near her. Where

your ^rents, and why do you alone oare for her while she^has been In such •offering and danger 7

Ay, why»? It is j»J.—you are nay friend, ftre fti

1 ^^trian/l^n'give it ymi in fcw "d w^rds. My father Is ft

hard,

"We two are his

i^i§:

ste™ roan.

onl7^IVdre,,J

HMurled 9»rly, ftnd sgwnst his wilL She

is, unfortunately, self-willed to a high detrree* She would llftten to no one. Her father discarded her, and si* months after her ill-starred marriage, her villainous husband deserted her amongst strangers. 'The agony of the heartless aet, made her 111. She wrote me, begging for aid in her dlstrees. In the Impulse of the moment, I took the letter to my father, ftnd tried to intercede for her. I begged that I might bring her home again, poor, repentant sufferer! He flew in a most terrible passion, dectared that she should not come to his house pgnln. She had found the fruits of her -Mona bitter, but she must eat them. 1 tiled to reason with him, reminded him of his duty as a father and a professed Christian—he grew worse than ever. Forbade the mention of her name, and bade me Beek her out, and aid her at the peril of being, like her, cast from his homo aud heart. I am his heir, dependent upon him for all I have, He gave me no profession. A poor, pitiful creature I should be. cast adrift. I was tempted at first to brave him, for my beautiful sister was my idol. I could not boar to think of her in such distress. But I knew my father well. Had I dono so, I should have been cast off penniless, without a ray hope for the future. In such a position I could place my sister in but little bet ter circumstances than she was then. It takes time and labor to gain anything. Meantime, she might' die. I dropped the subject then and we have not spoken her name in his house since. But I would not let her die. I had her secretly brought here, and all that money could provide, has been given her, all that kindness could do has been dono. If I daily deceive them at home, it is not as black as the sin of her banishment. After all, I do not deceive them. They ask me no questions, I have nothing to answer. I pass my time as I like, and make use of my liberty and my money to save her. And I will do it. Poor Ellen I do not think my mother would be harsh, only for my father. Every soul in his house is his slave, mysolf excepted. She dare not think, except of him and his wil I. Therefore she is helpless. I will not harass her with the knowledge of this state of affairs. She is ignorant. I will let her roraain so. As for my father, the day may come when God will soften his heart to a spark of humanity."

Ora's heart was full of bitter pain. "Suffering—nothing but suffering everywhere! The earth was full of it. Where could she turn, and find it not? Nowhere, this side the grave."

Now," he continued, "you un1 tstand our relation and position. You see why I must act carefully. It is more for her sake than my own. If I cause a broach, both of us are hopelessly set adrift. Can I but get along smoothly, I shall have enough for the comfort o"f both, and I will see that my sister has her full share. Am I right Can you condemn my oourse?"

,4No.

ground on which you stand. I aamire

your

earnest devotion to your poor sister, beyond expression. Could you have the heart to abandon her to the cold world in sickness and poverty? You are right in all you have done."

141

knew you would say so. I could not do otherwise. It would be foolish to recklessly cast away the means of helping licr by braving my father. But it would be damnable to desert her, and selfishly revel ii her portion while she starved. Gcd! to think of it!"

He was strangely excitable at times, and these exclamations seemed much at variance with his general manner, He was not profane. A deep under current of religious sentiment ran through his nature. But he did not evincc it in his father's way. It proved itself in daily practice of "good and generous works. He assumed nothing. Sincere, generous and charitable, he never refused aid to the suffering. If there was a blemish in tho character of Theodore ttaymond, it consisted in the deep bitterness to which his father's injustico gave rise. It was contempt and disdain for small, nUiful deeds, while wearing theoutward •i-bof one who "walks with God." hi elder Raymond, a hard, cruel, and heart unfeeling man, was an object of contempt to his child—almost of hatred.

This is hardly to be called unnatural, reader. From infancy, he had known him but as a tyrant. Before the world ho saw him stand as one "chosen of tho Lord." In tho home circle, he knew him guilty of deeds any generous, upright man' would shun as a pestilence, and ho knew him for a hypocrite. To one just and high principled as Theodore, such characters could but bo repugnant, even though of his own llosh and blood,

I dare say you think very strangely of me," he remarked to Mrs. Meredith after awhile. "I ought to beg your pardon for my vehemence. But it half maddens mo sometimes. I am forced into a position most painful, foronoof my feelings. Were I alone interestod, I should not fear to launch boldly upon tho tide, and steer my courso alone amongst life's breakers. I have thought often, that I would profer it. But to do this would not savo my poor sister, and it would certainly Dreak my mother's heart. I have no right to disregard her happiness. Her trials are heavy, already, poor mother! What a troublosotno world we live in," ho sighed outat the close.

Yes, I havo found it so." Ora answred the exclamation half dreamily but there wis a thrill of sadness In her tone which made her listener cast another plowing glanco toward her faco. It was veiled so deeply, however, that tho expression was lost in dar" ncss.

Come into tho hfuse," said ho rising abruptlv. "It is too damp for you out here. You will b® taking cold."

Ora roso and followed him, wondering at the apparent inconsistencies of the young man's character. He was growing more and moro authoritative, and even brusque, as he Itegan to kaow her, or rather get used to hor. Yot she knew him at heart kind and gentle as a woman. She had seen so in his manner. If this was assumed, for what purpose was It It puzzled her to conjecturp.

On this evening, Mr. Raymond went awav earlier thAn usual, even as bo had come. And also, after a long conversation with Ellen, who woko beforo ho left, took leave of the nurse In a new style. HP called her out as he went, on pretence of giving some orders concerning his sister. When at the door, he paused ftnd stood on tbe steps sevoral minutes. Tbe moon had risen, and fell in ft broad glftre over the front of the building. His bared, head w«s lifted prondly~his white brow bathed In the allvery beams. Ora thought he looked very noble ftnd hftndsome as he stood there, his eyes fixed upon the shining constellations above. "I think yon need not sit up, tonlaht, Mrs. Meredith." he said, fttlength, turning to her. "Ellen 1ft «o modi better that tbe girl's attendance will be all she want*. I must gaard yeur health In order to keep yeu. If I *llow you to wear yourself out, then we might lose vou. After this I must not stay. I would, If necessary, but it Is not, sinoe the danger Is past, and it is important for me to be at home. Father begins

HAUTli

already to Show signs of displeasure at my actions, though be seldom Interferes with me in anyway. I must be guarded

Will you retire early and leave the girl to attend Ellen

Certainly not." "No? Why,pray?" Because it would net be right. She may be out of danger still It is my duty to be near her while still BO weak and ill. She is helpless, as yet."

But you may get sick." I do not fear it, and I hope I am not so selfish as to shun my duty on so slight a pretext. I do not love ease lite so well fts that."

qui

Hush! who thought of such a thing!" His tone was almost contemptuous, hut he looked pleased. Then he said in a voice very different from tho first, it was so gentle and earnest:

You are kind. My sister will one day be your staunch friend. Perhaps you may need her, too. I imagine you have few enough. You may count me ©ne, however, always, if I may claim the title. May I?"

You are too good," was the tremu lous response. A chord of feeling vi brated to the earnest, manly sympathy of his tone. .'

I shall feel glad to know you such, most assuredly." She had only uttered frankly what she felt.

Thank you. Now, my little Nurse, I must leave you. Have Jane bring a cot In Ellen's room, and do you reat there. I don't like to have you sit up all night, as I think you intend to do."

It will not hurt me." It might. You are not strong." I have been well cared for, however. You employ me to nurse, and take all the heavy night watches on yourself. More than this, I am satisfied, and that is a great deal. Physical labor is as. nothing to an overtaxed heart and brain." "Then your mind and heart are at rest, you would imply? I am glad."

You are justilied, knowing the

As near rest as a wandorer's can be," she answered sadly. "I have lost home and friends. Still, there is an air bf peace and security under your roof that is soothing. I should have died without this haven into which akind Providence allowed my barque to drift."

Ah you make me feel thankful. I have sometimes wondered how you felt, but feared to ask you. I hope you may find it always a congenial atmosphere where wedwell. You will at least find friendly spirits. Now I will not keep you out here. Good night."

He held out his hand and clasped her's kindly. His tone and manner were almost tender. The look he gave at the "good night" almost meaning in its depth. Ora faltered out a response and hastily closed the door. Her heart was in a strange flutter. Something in the change disturbed her. Yet she could not have told why. He had been only kind—very kind. But the sharpest critic could not have discovered more than mere interest in his manner. Any one, with but humane feeling, might have acted the same. Yet it disturbed her deeply.

Ellen's large eyes were wide open when Ora entered the room. She seemed n«w quite indisposed to go to sleep again, and soon began to toss restlessly. "Ob, this is wearying work," she moaned faintly. "I wonder if I shall ever learn patience to endure meekly all that I feel

Ora sat down near her, taking in here both wasted little hands. Are you in pain, dear?"

Y6S, "but not bodily. I cannot help thinking, and when I do my heart and brain get on fire. Oh, why are some people doomed to bring sorrow to all they love, while others—why was I born?"

A cry lika this a hundred times had forced its wav from Ora's lips. Sho had wailed out "in her bitter agony, and cried "why was I born?" Sho could comprehend the feelings that gave birth to the plaint. She could sincerely pity the poor girl before her, of whose wretched life sho bad heard from the lips of the brother. With quivering lip3 she stooped over her with a strong impulse of sympathy, clasped the frail form in her arms, and hushed tho sobs that shook it, as she would a child's. Wisely she forbore words. The little tempest soon spent itself. Tho tears ceased, but the poor suffering heart, pining for sympathy, could not carry its weary load alone. "Theodore told you all about me," she said at length, moro calmly.

How much better for all, could I have died," murmured Ellen, sadly. "Now I must live an outcast from my father's dwelling, bereft of his love, barred from my mother by his will, as effectually as though tho grave indeed enclosed mo. A burthen upon my brother—a curso.to myself! Ah! why could I not die?" "Hush! this is rebellious! lour present pain exaggerates your view of your condition. Y'our father is but human, and has human weaknesses. His will is not too strong to break before tho tide of natural affection. He may relent and take you to his arms. Do you imagine that anything Is permitted to fall upon us thus heavily, without a purpose in it? Good te all may spring from this blow. Be patient. God Is verv merciful." "'How can it lie, when he sees us so helpless in His hand, and yet sends us siiflerings greater than we can tear. Oh 11 can nee no mercy In It! He makes us weak, and then punishes us for our weakness!"

Ellen wore you less excited, you would not utter such words as those you have spoken I Calm yourself, dear. I oannot let you get so nervous. You will be III ftgftln. Anether time, when you ftre stronger, I will point out to you many blessings and mercies which you overlook in your present state 2 mind."

441

once i'elt afraid to speak. The wounds in mv heart are so deep, I shrink from baring them to mortal eyes. But sometimes I have wanted my mother, and longed so wildly for her bosom tb pillow my head, that I have thought of taking you into my confidence—of telling you everything, that I might have your sympathy. 1 thought yon could In a measure supply her place," for I dared not send to hor. Oh, nurse, you art? a woman and know my sorrow— you can pity me!"

Pity you from my soul I do!" she breathed earnestly, tenderly clasping her close to her bosom, and smoothing back tbe tangled tresses from the broad forehead. Tears were silently coursing down her cheeks and falling upon the pillow. Ah, could she not feel?f Every heart throb of pain was more than answored by her own. Hers was old in sorrow.

xf-r-

nificent beauty. Ah I how soon I reached tbe dregs! They have tinctured every drop of blood with their potaon, and will eventually end my miserable existence by lashing it to maniac fury!

Y#u must not think of this so intensely. Bad it

is, but

might have

been worse. You have suffered the bitter pangs of disappointment—seen, as have many others, your idol shattered to worthless dust at yeur feet. Nevertheless, It is yours to ignore the past, and rise in the future to a happier existence. Experience comes to us In a dark and fearful guise, sometimes. Yet the lessons she brings, are of more than golden value. You are young yet, very young and fair. Health will soon return and give bloom to your cheek apd light to your eye. You will gaiif with yooj strength, new hopes and aspirations. As you go out Into the world again, you will find now scenes snd occupations, and will have the advantage of this experience of your life to guide you over dangerous grounds. Every trial comes to us for good believe It and be hopeful."

Ah! it Is easy for those to speak ns you do, who have not had their Idols shattered! their fairest hopes crushed and trampled boyond restoration. Had you ever suffered as I have, you could not talk to me in this strain, and so calmly!"

A sad smile played over the features of the nurse. She was half tempted to tell her the story of a love lost—an Idol shattered—of years of suffering, toil and disgrace, of a little head lying beneath the sod to-night under tbe pale stars, and a heart desolate with all this, striving hopefully to rise and send to the lips a'vord of comfort for the little being clasped in her arms.

Hours olapsed ere Ellen yielded to slumber. Ora tried almost vainly to soothe and quiet the excited nerves of her patient. Restless and feverish, she tossed, moaned and wailed, until a fear rose strongly of a relapseinto the illness from whicn she was recovering. Relief came at last. The eyes closed, and the panting breast heaved only to gentle respiration. Thankfully—prayei ."ullv, Ora smoothed the drapery around the bed, and then laid down upon the couch beside the sufferer to watch till morning.

.iSTi'i CHAPTER XXV. i*!j You liave not closed your eyes sinke I left you," was Mr. Raymond's salutation. "I see you are on a par with the whole race of womankind."^!^

In what respect?" Contrariness!" Ora laughed lightly, but Ellen said for her, quickly ana eagerly:

She is not contrary, brother. If she did uot sleep, the fault was mine. I got wild and restless last night. I must have worried her dreadfully."

What made you restless ?"S*»w««'j You know, without the necessity of repeating," she answered quietly. I had been thinking, while you were at the door, and knowing you had told her about it, I gave vent to my pent up feelings, and it was hours before she got me quiet. It has done me good, though. I feel better for her sympathy. I am glad she knows all."

Blessed institutions after all," said Theodore with a merry smile. Ora look ed up and questioned: -toittra'H tf. "What?"

"'Women. Give me a woman to soothe and comfort. They take the roughest, most jagged points and smooth them to things of beauty and loveliness, even."

How inconsistent you are, sir." Not atall. I calle'd you contrary because you disobeyed a particular order. Now I call you a blessed institution for having done what no man could have done at such a time. Even I, her brother, could not have soothed her in ot?eof those fits. She woulu have worn liorself out, and to-day been at death's door again, most likoly. As it is, she is better than before, and rejoicing over womanly sympathy. Good!"

Ora said no more on tho subject. A look similar to his parting look of last night, brought a troubled light into her eyes, which she turned her face from him to conceal. And yet the next moment, stealing a glance at his face as be sat talking to Ellen, she condemned herself for foolish fancies. He had grown so utterly oblivious of her presence, looked so quietly unconscious of everything save the'invalid sister under his care, sho even began to smile af herself lor being so silly as to feel disturbod at all.

Yet we may not wonder that hor senses were ever on the alert, and that she constantly seanned hor path fof the shadows lying across it. She had suffered enough to make her far-seeing and cautious.

That same day, all arrangements being fully discussed for the proposed trip, Ora set about arranging the wardrobes for Ellen and herself. The former's was rich and ample. She should want but few things. In the absenco of his parents, Theodore had gone to the room once belonging to his sister, now locked and forbidden premises, and taken out all he thought she might need—himself packing them and sending off the trunks by porters lie brought lor tbe purpose.

For her-olf Ora needed but little. She wore simple black always. A short time from the bo begining of preparations, every thing was complete.

Tho first of July found them Installed In comfortable rooms at Saratoga. Theo dore had written some tiino previously to engage them, and when able to travel, sent Ellen and Ora to take possessron. She was to keep him advised of tho patient's progress by letter ho would not follow till tho first of August unless Ellen should grow worso.

Tho rooms were large and commodious, commanding a pretty view from tho windows. Two bedrooms and a par lor finelv furnished and communicating. Ellon looked pleased, almost happy as she surveyed the elegant furniture. The light shone so pleasantly in upon them as tliev sat in the parlor, and there was a flno piano and a guitar standing just as her own stood before she became a fu

S'tive

from love and heme. How oughtfully careful had Theodore been of his wilful, erring sister! Tears filled the large eyes and dropped over the wan cheeks, even while sne Bmiled, and she exclaimed fervently:

Oh, nurse, I feel the truth of which yoft have so often spoken, moro forcibly at this moment than I have ever felt. God merciful, in spite of my unworthiueas. See what a blessing he gives me In my dear, kind brother! Oh, what would bceome of me without him!"

God would find means of caring for you still, was the reply. "He who numbers the hairs ol our heads, and '•uffere not a sparrow to fall to the ground will surely guard a soul He loves, and keep it for Ufa own glory. Who knows how much you may yet do for His take?"

Point them out to me now. Tlwy may servo to calm me. I see nothinjr but darkness and misery—not ft ray of merciful light. I oannot see for what purpose I have been created. I have known nothing but bitterness all my life. A brief period of infotufttlon dftaEled mo—I was intoxicated with tbe strange new Jay that dawned upon me. Shut out all my life from tbe fountains of nftturftl affection, you may guess how eagerly I drank of the pwffrtd cup whAn it was held to mv liijs by one yond description. It neeaea one to £o sel2Vve^ ApSfo iS wJ mag- «t* tbe sweet, rich tones of her voice,

Everything was strange about them, ye! they found no time for loneliness. A well stored book case supplied tbem with reading matter, and Ora divided the hours as best sultod tbe taste of the invalid. Sometimes she read aloud for her. «nd when she tired, she conversed with, or plftyed for her. A proficient In music, toe pleasure "he gave was be-

to unders'and tbe ecstatic thrill, music can give. We have spoken often before of this glorious gift. Now it was destined to prove a source of both pleasure ana annoyance.

It was Ora's delight ever, to sit at the piano In the evening hour, breathing softly the airs she best loved. EUen was weary, and retired early. Ora could not go so snon, and Ellen begged her to play. Only snatches of song came to her lips at first. One after another, she skimmed lightly over for half an hour. Bntthesoul of music was being stirred witbijn her. Soon she took up. deeper, richer strains, giving to her voice its full scope and power. It thrilled tbe night hour, and hushed the sounds of more d'~,oordant notes by oversweeping them with its mlgfity waves. One one, strollers gathered beneath the bai conies of their room. The eon pies paused In their promenades. Light vehicles were whirling by whose occupants seeing the groups gathered there, drew in reins and listened entranced, while the unconscious songstress poured out those subHme notes that would have won lanrels of fame for a prima donna. Ora always felt, whoa she sung thus. She was trembling from excess of it now, when she roso and parting tho curtains lightly, stood upon the balcony. A mo mont she breathed the fresh air, drinking in the beauty of the summer night, when suddenly her eye caught the dis-

Eave

ersing crowd beneath her. She would give it no second thought, perhaps, had not a murmur reached her ear, out of whi6h the words came to her distinctly

A fine voice! man alive it is superb, sublime! Who can it be, I won der? I would give tbe world for sight of the lips from which strains like those she sang can issue! She must be beautiful! Will she sing again? Listen

The voice ceased, and Ora shrank back within the room. To deny that she knew of whom they spoke, would have been affectation, and that was a quality she did not possess. A thrill passed through her heart—a thrill of pleasure. This was a gift for which sho was fervently thankful. She was less miserable when she could exorcise it freely.

This was but the beginning of the excitement she was destined to create. Ellen loved to bear her Sing, and she would not refuse t» gratify her. Evening alter evening, the sweet tones filled the room, and were wafted out upon the night to tho ears that grouped round to catch the strains.

She knew that crowds were invariably attracted there, but she had no fear, No one would dare to come to their apartments, and they never stirred from them except in a close carriage to take a drive. They both were closely veiled. No danger of either beiug recognised, even were they not among strangers.

This moBotonous life was becoming wearisome, however. Ora longed for some change. At times she grew so restless to find the confinement almost intolerable, and one evening after Ellen fell asleep, ventured to descend to the Ladies' Reception Room. She dared not go into the parlor that was thronged with gay visitors, and in her sabiJ robes, with her quiet, mournful face, unattended, also, as she was, she would have seemed out of place. She found a serene pleasure, however, In looking about her it seemed like a brief respite from the walls of a prison, to get into another part of the house.

Through the open doorsand windows came floating in gay bursts of laughter, mingled wi music. A pair of swift hands swept the keys of the piano in the parlor, separated from her by a wide hall. Standing near the open door, she observed a hush in tho murmur of the many voices, and then a merry little air was executed with great spirit. Mer riment followed it. There was a buKz and clamor at tho end, then another song with greater spirit still, told the effect of admiration upon the songstress. Ora thought the voice very clear arid sweet. A fancy of familiarity made her steal into the liajl and glance toward the piano. There was a group around it, but through a little parting sho saw a dark, sparkling face wreathed in smiles. The shining black hairglittored in the heavy coils weund around the head in fantastic fashion. The eyes blazed and flashed tho round cheek were a carnation flush. Tho ruby lips parted to disclose teeth that shone in pearl like whiteness. There was no mistaking the figure or features. She had to lean against the wall to keep from falling, as the increasing throng shut out the vision.

Her head .swam, her heart ached as sho turned back to her room. No ono noticed the little slender figure as she glided away and up the broad stairway Had they done so, they might have been startled at the livid hue of her taw. It looked as if the hand of death had smit ten her.

As ono in a frightful dream, sho glided cm to her room, and throwing herself upon tho "couch without undressing, turned her face to the pillow and lay still. Hours sped unheeded. It was near morning ere a stir gave signs of life to tho still form. Then the floodgates of feeling wore raised, and violent sobs shook hor from head to foot. She wept long and passionately, burying her face deep in the pillows, lest a sound should reach Ellen's ears, and startle her into questions she might not answer. [TO BE CONTINUED.]

OBTUSE JOHNS IE.

Joknuio Longs topper went out to call on a young lady tho other evening, and left tho house aoout two a. m. lie savs ho had a real pleasant time, too. Ivirly In the evening the vonng lady presented him with spray of begonia, and told him that she believed it was pronounced "Begone you." Then sho talked about Johnnie Jump Up. and showing him a lot growing in a hanging basket asked him if he wouldn't take some before ho left. Then she sat down at tho piano and sang "Gentle Mother Call us Homo" and "I'm Saddest When I Sing." She didn't know what made her yawn so. and Johnnie didn't either. "Perhaps," she said, "she was taking cold Rnd she hoped Johnnie would closo tho gate when he went." She also said that the folks always had an early breakfast and asked Johnnie If ho didn't think he would bate to got up this early every morning to lay tho table. About thU time the old gentleman sent In his gold watch on a terver, and Johnnie told the servant tossy much obliged, and that be would cherish the chronometer for Ita tender associations. And.J^hn says be bad a real nice time.

A NORTH CANOUNA correspondent

EtsoffNorfolk,

tbe following: "Well, we are

iy in that's a fact. But there is no need of working here. If a man has energy enongh to dig a worm be can take a pin-hook ftndT ftlt down on the wharf and catch enough fish In one dav to last him two. If he Is too lazy to diir ft worm, he can tie a ploce of flannel rait on ft string and cfttch enough crabs tolast him a day or two, and ifhe is too lasy to tie a pieoe of flannel to a string, he lays

down on his back on the saud

at ebb tide, opens his mouth snd when the tide comes In the crabs run into It. What ne«I of work is there in a country for which nature has done so much |,

Goldfen 'Words.

Study

to be what you seem.—[6o-

crates.

The great pi ra^e ii pat ience.—[Budha. One forgives everything to him who forgives himself nothing.

No dust affects theceye- itlMigold-du&t, and no glasses like brandy-glasses. To carry care to*%eff is to sleeji ifith a pack on your bafttUk-IRslibtirtoa.

Thinking is the-lea^t exnrted privilege of cultivated hurtanwyii {Evened Prefer diligence %£i**e idleness, unless yon esteem rust above brightness.— [Plato. (vl olii

The most laudahl% a«bilkn is to 1)6 wise, and the greatest wisdom is to be good.

Republlos come tb ftri-dnd by luxurious habits monarchies by poverty.— [Montesquieu.

He who sofos courtesr reaps friendship, and he who plants kindness gathers love.—[Basil.

To beHeve that religion will cease to exist, is to believe that man will cease to bo human.

To think kindly of eavA'Other Is good but to act kindly towards ono another is best of all.

Some people cannot drive to happiness with four horses,Jand others can reach the goal on foot.—[Thackeray.

When a man looks upon the simple wild rose and feels no pleasure bis taste has been corrupted.—[Beecber.

Real happiness is cheap enough, vet how dearly we are in the habit of paying for its counterfeit.—[llosea Ballou.

To sneer and denounce is ,a very easy way of assuming a great deal of wisdom, and concealing a great deal of ignorance.

Be what you are. Ape no greatness. Be content to pass for what you are worth. A good nickel is betler than a counterfeit dollar. •.

Ridicule is a weak weapon when leveled at a strong mind but common men are cowards, and dread an empty laugh.—[Tupper.

The latter part of a wise man's life is taken up in curing the follies, prejudices and false opinions be had contracted in the former.

A great many people pray "Thy will

bo done" who would bo vastly surprised and entirely unprepared if their prayer should be answered.

A fool in high station is like a man on the top of a mountain everybody appears small to him, and he appears small to everybody.

Tho gibbet is a species of flattery to the humun race. Three or four persons are hung from time to time for tho sake of making the rest believo that they are virtuous.—[Sanial Dubay.

Tho transformation of tho butterfly from a crawling and repulsive worm to a flying insect of tho highest beauty and perfection is the most suggestive emblem of immortality that nature affords. —[Hoynes.

Surmise is the gossamer that malice blows on fair reputations, tho corroding dew that destroys the choico blossom. Surmise is primarily the squint of suspicion, is established before it is confirmed.—[Zimmerman.

True love is tho ripe fruit of the lifetime. At eighteen years ono docs not know it one only imagines it. As in the vegetable nature, when tho fruit comes the leaves fall, so perhaps it is in human nature. I have often thought it since I have been able to count the gray hairs in my head.—[Lamartine.

A ship on the broad, boisterous and open ocean needeth no pilot. But it dare not venture alono on the placid bosom of a little river, lost it be wrecked by some hidden rock. Thus it is with lite. 'Tis not in our open, exposed deeds that wo need tho still voice of the silent monitor, but in the small, secret, overy-day acts of life, that conscience warns us to beware of the hidden shoals of what we deem too common to bo dangerous.

To TUT to use bits of soap which are still too good to throw away, but aro a nuisance in the soap dish, place all, even to the smallest piece, in a small bag of flannel, aud they will be found to make a most delicious lather for the Lxith.

A BOSTON boy, who had been linu

sitting/

up nights readfn'g pirate stories, called h£s father to supper tho other day, bawling out: "What ho, thero, base craven! Como hither to thy vesporian hash." And when that father and son came together it sounded as if the belt had slipped off a twenty-foot lly-wheel..

Indisputable Evidence.V- ST. ELMO, 111., July 8, 1874, R. V. Pie-ce, M. !., Buffalo, N. YI winh to add my testimony to the wonderful curative proper:ies ot your Alt. Ext., or Golden Medical Discovery. I have taken great interest in thi« medicine since I first used it. I was badly afflicted with dyspepsia, liver deranged and an almost perfect prostration of the nervous system. So rapid and complete did the Discovery effect a perftct cure that it rvetned more like magic and a perfect wonder to myself, and since that time we have never been without a bottle of the Discovery and Purgative PelletB in the house. Tbey are a solid, sound family physician in the house and ready at all times to fly to the relief of sickness—without charge. We have never had a doctor is the house since we first began the use of your Pclletts.and Discovery. I have recommeded the use of these medicines in several severe and complicated caaea arising from, as I thought, an impure state of the blood, and in no one case have tbey failed to more than accomplish all they are claimed to do. I will only mention one as remarkable, (though I could give you a dozen). Uenry Koster, furniture dealer, of this place, who was one of the most pitiful objects ever seen, his face swollen out of shape, scales and eruptions without end, extending to his body, which was completely covered with blotches and scales. Nothing that he took seemed te effect it a particle. I finally induced him to try a few bottles of the Golden Medical Discovery, with daily use of tbe Pellets, assuring him that it would surely cure him. He commenced its use some six weeks since, taking two Pellets each night for a week, then one each night,

Discovery as directed. Th^

and the nwult is, to-day his skm is perfectl smooth, and the scaly eroptions are gone He has taken some seven or .eight bottles in all, and considers himself cured. This case had baffled the skill of our best physicians. Messrs. Dunsford A Co., druggists, of this place, are selling largely of votir medicines and the demand steadily Increases, and they give perfect satifao-" tion in every case. Respectfully,

W. H. CHAXPUN, Agt. Am. Exp. Co.