Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 7, Number 1, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 1 July 1876 — Page 6

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THE MAIL A Paper for the

view,

People.

tom.

BY CQXKTAXC* TJLMXOBJt COQPKK. Ye* Tom's the beat fellow that ever you knevr.

Just listen tot bis

When the old mill took lire, and tne floor-

TiTk

fell through. It, nel

And I with ipleas, there, full In ®y What do you think my eyes saw thro' the

That'crept along, crept along, nlgher and

Bat^kln, my baby-boy, lauvhlng to «ee The shining He mast have come there

Toddled alone from the cottago withoiit Any one's mia&lng him* Then, what ft

OhThovM shouted, "For Heaven's sake,

8av™Uttltf Robin!" Again and again They tried, but the lire held them back like

I could hear them go at It, and at it, ana call "Never mlad, baby, sit still )Jkea man. We're coming to get you as fast as we can. They could not see him, but I could he sat Htlll on a beam, his Mttie straw hat Carefully placcd by his side, and hUi eyes Stared at the flame with a baby ^surprise, Calm and unoonstlous, as nearer It crept. The roar of the fire above must have kept The sound of his mothers voice shrieking From reaching the child, But I heard it. It

Again and again. O God, what a cry 1 The axes went faster, I saw the sparks fly Where the men worked like tigers, nor minded the heat That scorched them—when, suddenly, there at their feet. The great beams leaned in—they saw him— then, crash, Down came the wall! The men made a dash— Jumped to get out of the way—and I

"All's u]^ with poor little Robin," and

Hlowly^e'arm that was least hurt to hid The sight of the child there, when swift, at

Someone rushed by, and went right through

•Straight as a dart—caught the child—and then came Back with hitn—choking and crying, butsaved! ... ... Baved safe and sound!

Oh, hew the men raved.

Shouted, and cried, and hurrahed! Then

Rushed at the work again, lest the back

Where I was lying, away from the flre,i„ Should fall In and bury me. Oh! you'd admire To see Kobin now, he's as bright as a dime, Deep in some mischief, too, most of the

Tom.T^was,

sav.nl htm. Now, isn't it true

Toms the best fellow that ever you knew? There's Robin, now—see, he's stiong as a log— ii And mere comes Tom, too— .. y\|-

Yes Tom was our dog.

O J-vi

THE LOST WIFE.

BY BELLA Z. SPENCER, Author of "Tried and True," etc.

[This Intensely interesting story was commenced in The Saturday Evening Mail, Vol.6. No.41—April8.11*76. Back numbers can be had at The Mail office, or sent to any address for five cents a copy.]

CHAPTER XXXII.

October came in her crimson and purple glory and still the Raymonds were at Saratoga. The time passed rapidly and pleasantly to all, Ora excepted and even she'was forced to yield to a certain sense ofsecurity and peace akin to contentment.

Yet when talk of returning home reached her ears, she rejoiced more than at anything else. She could never feel wlioll at ease until safe from the possibilityof meeting her enemy.

Only a few days yet remained of their stay. Theodore proposed that they should make tho most of it, and accordingly these long walks, rides and moonlight strolls, between which times, they sang played, danced and talked

that day

you

than to feel conscious of a Jeaut*^nd talent that may win whom Menkes to

What?" she lifted her face him. her deep eyes I«»tenlng sudden rise of emotion. 'What makes a woman happier than these, do you •sk Strange queation to putto one of feeling and principle! Bat, sinceyou put ufla que.SU tear the answer. A woman, if

she

all

people do, bent on killing time and

^ra'j^tlie^short season she had been out, had unwittingly gained many admirers. Seldom did she sit down in the parlor or walk out without a crowd of friends or a host of attendants, as Theodore laughingly asserted. He seldom attempted to get near her. He saw her every day, and that she was well cared for. Beyond that he yleldod the merest civilities required of him, and theu seemed to Ignore her existence.

Always cheerful, always gay, yet she saw a change. Had he remembered that unfortunate meeting, and did It raise doubts in his mind which kept blm aloof? Gradually he had seemed to withdraw from their old habits. There were wo more quiet little chats, no peemlng wish either to be near or avoid, yet of cool Indifference perfect politeness always observed alone or with others, but no more. Had things been different she would have been glad of this. As it was, she feared his thoughts, his silence, his Indifference, his poMte neas. The latter was too studied, argued a change.

This continued up to the Iwt day put one nf her stay. On the afternoon of

ahe was sitting in the parlor of

their own suit of rooms, Mm. Raymond, Ellen and Mr. Raymond havln driven out for the last time. She ha declined accompanying them, and bad tkken up a book to read, when Theodore oame in and accostod her lightly.

Alone I thought you were out

A preferred home. How Is it

did not go?" Like you, I preferred home# I am idck of running aoout, and shall be glad to get awav from here. But you are

moping

von Rot

Why. bow Innocent you are. For drawing custom,of course. I know no Imb thp" four gentlemen who would \ave none four weeks a*o but for your noweni of attracUon. They could not find it in their hearts to leave while you remained."

Mr.

Raymond lw

vJtc

He lifted his eyes from the little branch of evorgreen he had carried with htm into the room, and encountered her slance. A surprised look he met, and Sgnlty mingled with Indignation was esprtcned in every curve of face and

**"\Vrll he laughed easily, "tothere anything in tha£ that you look so (vmndlv aatonished? Ladiee love to Snow themselves admired. You know wZdltattracUve, and are but receiving your due."

let tell her eyes and deigned'no

Wglv.

4 rp

Is it not so?" he asked in the awne iaitoe. plucking away at the lws II fcanL "Now tell me candidly, Mrs.

Meredith, whAtmak* woman happier

be a true woman, is hap-

in knowing herself regarded as something more than a thing of beauty and admiration—something to respect and esteem above csprloes and whims, and the petty ambition of drawing other sto her feet. To feel herself looked upon as an equal, a companion a being whose feelings and sentiments are respected, and whose weaknesses are free from the sports and jest# of her associates. You cannot thii

aies. iuu »»»». —ink such an ambi tion as you describe, when attained, can bring happiness, Mr. Itaymond. know scores that are perfectly bapwith just such resources as we are iscusslng. Do you not feel a sense of happiness in your own power "My power of pleasing? *®f:

Sf.

tends

to enable me to make those

around me happy. I. desire it—in a tneasuro cultivate it. But I ^e8i^e.p® powers to win me admiration. It. a dutv to try to add to the brigbtnedsjof the lives of others so far

as.™e

duty demands that we seek admiration which could affect only ourselves, and benefit no one." ...

I grant you that, but where will you find one woman in a thousand who will stop to think of others, if she bepretty and attractive? She loves ail the ihomage she can get too well, and think of others so far as she can use them to further her purposes.

For one who has a mother and a sister vou take a severe view of the sex "she replied, pointedly, her feel)ings

y°"No,

I may And one woman in a:

-no more. Yet. there are

among

not understand you! How

can I know ho may

Up?nf y"KLf

y°!oh'VJTSJSi

you what you are. I would shield yon forever from of future sorrow," "Hush! I oannot listen words!"

She

What

me what It Do

uessssWL

not too

it is like me. You have

seen me fairly yet. 1 have seen much been here, "otfK^ tlTe times

8et

Perhaps. You can judge best. stand I I

reaCh'ed

compet^n^judw of

Thank you. You have changed fairs.

your mind since you asked me what more woman wished, to constitute happiness, than the beauty and talent to win admirers."

He got up and crossed the room to a window, and stood looking out for a moment. When he came back, he sat near her. Ilis whole face and manner were changed. He was agitated and eager. "We have tdked nonsense long enough," he said. "Excuse me for forcing it upon you. I did but jest. I came here for another purpose. Mrs. Meredith, I want to ask you'a question. Will you answer me

I will if I can rightly. "What is it?' "Who is the lady you saw that day we rode out—the same in which mother and father came here?"

The sudden question turned her sick and dizzy. She could scarcely gasp out: What reason have you for supposing ,I know?"

Enough. Your face and tiers were sufficient to betray your knowledge of each other. There is knowledge and interest, peculiar and strong. I saw it."

And supposing it were so. have you aright to question its nature "Yes, 1 believe I have. I want to know for the sake of my future peace of mind. Once I asked you to toll me something of yourself. You refused. Since that, I have tried to bo patient, and leave you to tell 1110 of your own free will. The incident served to increase my desire, and now I can boar it no longer. I must know it."

Sir 1" Nay, do not be offended. My happiness rests upon It, Mrs. Meredith, or I would not dare to do so. Surely, we have a right to secure this If we can."

I cannot see where it involves yours in the least," she returned coldly. You cannot!" His tones were passionate. "Oh, can I believe you wiien you say this Where are your woman's eyes and wits, that you do not catch the secret of my Interest? I love you! I would know if there is any reason why I may not seek to win you. I have not dared till now, to even dream of uttering the truth to myself, lest there should be some barrier between us. But the time has gone by for suspense. Only tell me this—I seek to know no more now. Is there ought existing between vou and any man who might-seek to win your love? I ask this because your conduct has taught me that you avoided attention from my sex, as though

you

yourself to death, why do

down? There are three 'last

£c»es of summer' straying about the nremises nursing vain hopes. I think I must get my friend, the proprietor, to tender you a bill of thank* for services done-hlrn thiis fceason

•Why?" asked Ora, wonderingly. Theoaore laughed.

feared evil. This fear ol evil could only arise from some conscious barrier. Is It so, or am I In fanl-

You are right,"she breathed, unablp to give any but a plain, frank answer tb such a question. "hi it Ineurmountable?" Ills velco was thick and husky. "It Is." (,

He groaned as if jn deep pain. "I did not know." he faltered, "what strong hopes and feelings have sprung till now. You have given me a up life

iasta lIia

room sbftklns

ter and servant—no more. I am our

a gular thing about the affair. How could

vnf ffood as declare she learn so much of our history? I witl?the sex?" never saw the woman before to-night in

life, and yet .he

human nature! I (rive vou credit for thorough knowledge of overj-tllWK that dSon Tnd good £mse:» I 1 oonoerna ua-even our moat pn»ato af-

TEP.RE HAUTE SATURDAY KV3CNING MAIL

Raymond called to him across the room.

Come here my son, I want you." He rose slowly and approached her. Well, mother, what is it?" Mrs. Raymond looked up at him quickly. "What is the matter with you,my not well? You are worn," she cried in concern. "There is nothing tho matter with me. I am quite well, I assure you. A

»TSfi afifeAt

me fairly yet. na\ mtie dull, porbaps, but no more," he roflirting and coquetry si oe plied, anxious to allay her fears and put here, not to grt the dId iMlinl

pHMTo

.an^ Uom.

an 7nd

must let'some ^!f It esca°Pe. is not you wish to te?l me something parUcu Boodforme.

^®°ethouttndj)

fh0^and

to Yes, but

thing

been practising, upon you, and touched a striking£«««£

a tencier place in your heart. She bad said it jestingly. He looked her straight in tho eyes and said stowlv:

Vr imvfi

Ubeen

8eemS

I might 'selves by going home and staying ty there." "But, brother, you forget papa's to «»ch health," put in Ellen.' "It was neceasa ry to remain on his account."

rled to «et free. Then we ought to have shunned solt?" he oontinued. "Tell clety." what it la that bars me from you! "I agree with you, answered Ml*.

paid subordinate, and as far beyond them." vour reach as the North Star. Do not "Who ever heard of people doing pursue this painful subject farther. It that?"

must end 1" nan tell you, mother, there a no one She wrenched her hand "from hia grasp be trusted with affairs that tonoh nsln and swept from the room to shut her- tender point. The safest self up inan agony of grief and alarm.

"Im

unnVeasant questions

fancied as you came up.

h&d hoard already,

many—very many Anything unpleasant^ in what^way

you look you

££S"

^^ffS^wered Mrs. Ray-

|^Ora smiled sli^htly!^' Alight began to j^er hands^In^ant^ "^Pexhaps*you have reasons for the ly his brow flushed. He saw that sorneassertSn ^e said. "Thev may have

was wrong to affect them in such

speak

ing of her?" he demanded sternly. Do qot allow yourself to get excited," returned Mrs. Raymond. "It is a woman and you can do nothing. A

nla^inK stranger to us all. That is the most sin-

to.po»» a

How did you learn this? Who is the stranger?" demanded Theodore.

441don't

know who she is, I am sure.

She seems to have been here before, from what I could gather from a conversation I overheard between her and a gentleman in. the parlor. She is tall, very slender, with dark eyes and hair. Very prettv and very stylish in her apppearance." Ellen says she thinks sl|tf saw her here before we came, on horseback, but is not qnite sure. I am inclined to think so. She must have been here before, and some busybody informed her all she repeated so volubly. It is a shame! I cannot get over it. Who of our acquaintances here is it that has made such free use of our names to strangers?"

What is it that was said asked Theodore impatiently. "Iam all in the dark as yet. Explain yourself moth er." "Softly! give me time, my son. It happened this way:

When we returned from our drive, after changing our dress, we went into the parlor, and Ellen sat down by Mrs. Tyler, while I, feeling a little tired, went Into a window near by, but just back of them, and drawing the curtains, sat still, looking out.

441

bad been there perhaps ten minutes, when a lady and gentleman came in and sat down near me, and their conversation turned at once upon Ellen. I could not help hearing every word, though they spoke in a low tone.

'Do you know that young lady asked the gentleman, indicating your sister a slight nod. She laughed and answered lightly.

414Yes,

it is a Miss Raymond. At

least she is called so, though she is mart-ied. I believe her husband proved 11 villain, and deserted her. A fit punishment for disobedience, I suppose we may say. It was a runaway match. The fatlior, who Is a minister, opposed it bitterly, and discarded her in consequence. It Is but lately that they were reconciled. I assure you, it is quite an interesting 11' tie romance.'

'Indeed! She ft pretty,' remarked the gentleman with atone of interest. 'Yes, she Is quite handsome. But her companion is handsomer. Do you see that tall lady just beyond her, with a book in her hand. That is her companion. I believe she nursed her through a dangerous Illness. I have heard the whole history. After the husband deserted her the brother brought her homo secretly and took care of her. It was then this lady was engaged. They came here, and a little while after ward, the parents came. The presence of their daughter was unknown to them till a dangerous illness of the father's

cum

stances. A discarded daughter

deserted wife! She must have a good

"I3 no^leave me vet,"'he cried In stout heart as ithe ]D,2±!?%JI2&£ passionate entreaty, seizing her hand to JS?-JJST'fhf ™i?for^Tverv- ,?•*

m°m,at lbS&he™

No. I mutt not," ahe said positively, pie tbev IWe.'ftSfLiJ ITJITMr wEwTHff tb£ Saymoml, and try to forgot tfto wild "^•PorgWitl I cannot, .nd vou know -he oondewemlod^to rtop, and_ it well. Tell

now ro not destroy rapid paco across the room. "The fault

how

IsourslWe have been fbols to run this

."oS kn!w, I not. That vou tMt of J^dal. W. ha..suffered, I am folly .»are, ani lt the wor'^a tobttof tondllng^oople most have been deeply, to have made names, and anouia have ameiaea «ui-

youth, and bo. silent concerning

aspirated

Theodore,

ai©of

while he turned away, his manly heart own Interests silently. while he

turnea

self upon the grass sprinkled with the He

away, ma uj»*»»jr u».»» own lnwrwwmwwy am exaroera

full of a wild, bitter and rebellious feel* ted to think of this affair, though itis ing new to him. Leaving the place, he nothing wonderful, when we "member wandered away, across the fields to a the oauae on the coutmry, It is quite little belt of woods,where he threw him- natural."

bright autumn leaves, and lay brooding his thoughts in tumult. That his aister bitterly till darkness sheltered Nature

CHAPTER XXXIII.

with ono sable robe. was enough to upset his usual equamml

It was after nine o'clock when Theodore returned to the hotel. Ellen and Mrs. Raymond were In their par'or. i-wuuuua...^ Ora was not to beseon. He'supposed sible. She Is most too ready with her ahe was in her room, and took a seat si- information. Where oould shehavetgot lentlv Too much occupied with his such mluute particulars? I wonderown thoughts, he had paid no attention His cogitations were cut short by an to what they were saying when he came apparition thatstopped him short in his In—did not heed them now till Mrs. way down the hall.

I do not wish the interview here. Come with me out a little way. I must speak with j-ou."

Impossible! Suffer me to pass, Mr Raymond. I have no time to spare." "I will not. You must hear what I have to sav," he returned, drawing her arm within his own, and turning to descend the stairs. "I will not detain you long." "Thisis an outrage, sir!" broke from Ora as he drew her along, almost forcibly. "I have a great mind to call for assistance."

Be still," he said in a low, determined tone. "Don't attract useless attention. I am not going to murder you.

She was pantiffg with passionate rebellious feeling, but he was heedless of the fact, and conducted h»*r out of the house, entering a secluded walk and proceeding some distance to escape observation. Ora" here broke loose from his grasp and stood before him.

Tell me tho meaning of this, sir! You have taken a most unwarrantable liberty in thus forcintc ati interview upon me. I thought the matter at an

en(|B»

bo not mistake me!" he replied coolly. "I am not going to repeat my declaration of. love to you, be assured. I am now endeavoring to fathom this mystery betweon yourself and that woman I saw with you a moment since. You refused to tell me once, to-day, but now I repeat the request. What is she to you, and why should you repeat to her the sad history of my sister's unfortunate marriazo? Iam puzzled to understand how it could benefit you to recount it to an utter stranger."

I repeat anything concerning your sister to her? you are mistaken, Mr. Raymond. Such a thought never entered my mind. What authority ha\e you in making the accusation

Her thorough knowledge of the affair, and your secret Intercourse with her. I can come to no other conclusion. How came you to tell her of our affairs. Who is she, that she cares to know and a

Sir, you insult me with the question I Have I not told you I did not repeat anything to her? As for secret intercourse, I deny that also 5 I never spoke to her till this night, and then she forced the interview upon me by drawing me into her room. Your names were not mentioned once. Mr. Raymond, you are acting a cruelly unkind part by me," she continued in a calmer tone. "I am in an agony of dread and suspense. I must return at once to the house. Do not misconstrue me further. I am the last one to injure one of your family, or to betray a confidence reposed in me, as be

But what am I to think* of all this You will make no explanation. Why do you refuse to tell me who this woman Is It were better for you to ex-

Semnatlon

laln than to lay yourself open to con and suspicion." Ob, Mr. Raymond, why will you mot" aha cried suddenly.

brought 1 "ST light.*"tI^"thought"hito dying and she was brought to him. The her b»«ds. I shall go crazy! consequence was a reconciliation, and a That woman has been Je bane of my return of the young lady to her former life—poisoned my whole, existence—

«nv noi4 fkA IsHv

how she can bear to come before the world again after such unpleasant clr-

hfirfi brOUfitlit 2H6

she is my bitter enemy, know that—and I hate—oh, Lhate her as I would hate a fiend Incarnate." ....

from everybody, and ^uardone

the subject of gossip for strangers

tv, even had he no other cause. But this, combined with his personal dls quiet, made blm savage.

Who can this woman be that is med dllng herself thus in our affairs," he commented inly. "I'll finjl out, if ?os

Could Mrs. Meredith have informed her of their history in such detail? She know It, and that there was a mystery between them, he knew already. He had no doubt of the person whose in suiting gossip his mother had overheard She was at the Springs when they came theie, and had remained sometime. The incident of Ora's fright on first seeing her—her subsequent meeting in the wood—everything came back vividly He Ind never forgotten them, but had given up his endeavor to unravel the mysterv for the time being. Now all tho old'interest was awakened. He was angry and determined to get at the bottom of It.

On seeing him, the stranger olosed her door, and be confronted Ora haughtily. Mrs. Meredith, a word with you, If you please, ere you join my mother," he said commandingly.

She drew back surprised, and haughty as himself, though trembling in every limb.

You must excuse me. I cannot speak with you here It is not a time or a fitting place, even were I inclined to grant the request."

do™ °njbe right

was hastily opened, and Mrs. Meredith, camo out. both hands clasped over her bosom. Her face was pallid, her eyes wild. A slender figure was behind her in the door way, and sent a mocking laugh alter the retreating form ol her visitor, for visitor she doubtless was, since she hod emerged from her room Theodore recognized the Richmond belle in his brief glimpso of her, and thought flashed through his brain.

assss?

I must not wait till to-mor-

help me. row "But why to night? Yon must be mad. .Theie is not an hour to get ready in before the cars leave. How could yon go, and why should yon? We all expect yon to return to the city with us," cried Theodore, in amazement.

But, I cannot, I cannot wait," she replied vehemently. "Ob, if I stay here, I shall mad! He is coming tomorrow, will be here before we could leave, and I dare not meet blm. Ab, Mr. Raymond, if you knew bow I suffered, you would pity me! Do not think me rash or mad. I am quite sane, but'I shall not be long, if this continues."

He saw that she was wild with excitement, and pitied her. His tones were kind and gentle when be replied:

turned

abruptly and left room

But this is an extraordinary proceeding, Mrs. Meredith. How am I to account to my friends for your departure if you go?"

Oh, I don't know! Anyway you think proper. I must go! I must, I tell you! I must go now, or I will be too fate!"

She was turning from him, but be caught bor arm and held her fast.

Not yet. One word more, Ora. Why should you go?"

Why? Did I not tell you some one was oomlng whom I did not want to see? I cannot see him. It will kill me."

Whom do you meat) Tell me Ora I will be your friend." He held her tightly, and in an agony of impatience she struggled to get free. But his calm, kind tones arrested her efforts. A change of feeling rushed over her instantly.

441will

tell you," she uttered desper

ately. "It will put an end to some things I can no louger struggle against. The man who is to be here is my busband. That woman came between him and me nearly six years ago. She has wrecked my life. I could not bear to know myself neglected for her. It drove me mad, and I left him. Since then my life has been one of toil and suffering. Now you understand the mystery between us. You understand why I paled and shook at the sight of her. I could never forget. Her face will live in my memory- till death, and the sight of it will madden me yet. Tonight she stood in her door as I came by, and suddenly caught my arm before I had noticed her, drawing me within. I will not repeat the scene that followed. She mocked and taunted me, and said he was coming after her to-morrow. My God, can I stay to see him by ber sideaghln—to live over something of the old agony and shame of years past! No, I will not. Once I would have cut my tongue out before I would have told you this! How could I bear to tell you such a taleot humiliation, and feel that you pitied me! But now, desperation iiii« driven beyond my pride. I want only to escfivj him. Yo^ have promised to be my 1'iVnd. I have told jou how much I need ono, in the story of my wrongs. Will j*ou be that friend, or will you retract?"

411

will be your friend," he responded, —ditl

huskily. Trust me, Mrs. Meredith. I thank you for your confidence. Would vou had told me long ago, when I first asked you. It would nave spared us both much pain, and I should not have insulted you with

friend

tu6 frionmCWj DOlplCW

2?ih°KU r«nnolDt.n|l"youD°B^

I A

Was this Ora Meredith—this personification of wrath that stood before blm— her hands locked—her frame trembling —hissing the words through her shut teeth with the Intensity of an overpowering emotion? Theoaore could scarcely realise the truth, and she stood beating one foot passionately upon the ground, while his gase penetrated the gloom to read her face. .... ,. ...

Mr. Raymond," she added suddenly as anew thought seemed to and eagerly as anew thought seemed to strikeher, "you to-dav expressed an affection for me which I was ferced to out coldly from me. I did not wish to give vou pain, and do not now. I cannot help It If I have done so. A cruel Pate pursues me. I am safe and at rest nowhere. As soon as I find a little haven where I fancy I may be In peace, I am driven forth more utterly wretched. Oh, it is hard, hard Now I must leave yen as I have left every one else who

4pity.'

However, it is

1 help you all

all past now. I will bel] Where do you wish to go city?"

can

1 to go Back to the

Yes. But I can never come to you again. I shall find something to do, someway. All I want Is to keep out of his sight, for I could

Hot

bear it. He

must not know where to look for me."

Will j*ou answer me one question more, Mrs. Meredith?" he asked tremulously, but striving to quiet his tones to a steadiness hiding the interest he felt in her reply. "What is it?"

Do you—do vou love your husband still?" Love him she uttered passionately, snatching her hand from his arm. "Love him still I No I I bate him as I do ber! I have regarded him for years as unworthy my love, but still excused him somewhat, till within tho last year. When I saw my child die, I vowed solemnly never again to cherish a lenient thought toward him. lie was her murderer He has more than murdered— outraged, scorned, insulted me! How could I love him

He drew her arm within his on%e more in silence, and thev turned toward the bouse. Presently be said:

441

will help you off as you desire, but you will communicate with me in the city?" r'-?

No, no! I cannot." *•-. r' Why I may be able to help you in some way. You will need a friend in your friendless situation, and I promise you to be true and faithful. Let me prove to you that I can be one, independent of interested motives. I now understand fully bow widely we are separated. I will uot distress you with my professions of love. Only let me befriend you, as I would have any one be

my sister. Will you not promise

this? I cannot let you go away so forlornly." She hesitated, then gave him the promise of informing him of her whereabouts. He thanked her and added:

One thing more. You cannot go away in the clandestine manner vou •bontemplate. You must let my mqther and Ellen know it. Take leave of them as you would of your best friends, and leave mo to explain to them."

They entered the house, and Theodore lei her up stairs. You have but little tlmo to wait,' he said. "Go to your room, get your things ready, and I will prepare them lor vour departure. Do not fear. All will go well, and none but ourselves will know that you are gone.

He opened her door from tho corridors, and she entered, thanking him gratefully In a little while she had packed awsy the few things that were left out. and put on her wrappings. She had scarcely finished when the porter knocked at her door, and asked for her trunk. Theu she turned toward the parlor, a sickening dread upon her spirits. What would they say? What could they think of this strange flight? She could hear their voices plainly, ss If In discussion, Theodore's above the rest, firm, strong, manly.

Two or three times ber hand rested upon the door before she could muster courage to enter. When she did so, her heartbeat heavily.

All of tbem were there. BHen rose at once, and came ap, putting her arms affectionately around ner neat.

4 4

1 am so sorry to losey°°i "So sorry that any trouble should call you away thus unexpectedly. But yon must not forget us. lou have been a kind, good friend, «nd we will love you

^Orata*grateful tears fell fast over the bright young head, laid lovingly against bar neck in a farewell embrace. She had Botexpeoted this. She looked for surprise, distrust, perhaps anger.

Mrs. Raymond held out her hand and kilned her cheek. She looked bewildered. but asked no questions. Ex pre wed herself grateful fer the kind care her

daughter had—reoeived at her hands, and bade her remember them as heir friends. Mr. Raymond's manner was less cordial, more bewildered, but not distrustful. The leave taking was not half so bad as ahe had feared, and she took Theodore's arm in inexpressible relief, when he presented it, to see her to the can.

You will not forget your promises, be said gravely, as be seated her In the carriage and placed a card in her hand,

44This

is my address, and be sure to let me know as soon as I get to town, where you are 1 have put what I owe you in this little' purse. In your haste, yon forgot I was indebted to you, and you may need it. Farewell. Do not forget I am your friend—always your friend to command."

For one moment he held ber hand In both of his, reluctant to say good bye. But time was up, and why detain her? Five minutes later the cars were speeding away, aifd he stood alone under the quiet stars, miserable, half bewildered, and heart sick.

When he returned to their rooms, all were eager for an explanation. At first he had told them only that sudden, unexpected and distressing news had called ber hence immediately, and bade them control their curiosity till she had gone. They must ask her no questions. He would explain as soon as he could get time. Now he sat down quietly, and told them in distlnt terms what had occurred, and in such a manner as to enlist their feelipgs in her favor. He knew it was best to give them the truth. An excuse would have served only to excite suspicion. So the true state of affairs was known, and the Raymonds were her fast friends.

[TO BE continukd.]

Golden Words.

Uncalled for excuses are tacit confessions. A hopeless person is one who deserts himself.

He who is honest for reward, is a knave without reward. He who loses his conscience has nothing left that is worth keeping.

Do not stop to pray, but pray as you go and the rewara will come sooner. One never needs one's wits so much as when

oho

has to do with a fool.

Malignity generally drinks the greatest part or its own poison.—[Seneca. Riches for the most part are hurtful to them that possess them.—[Plutarch.

Only those are crowned and sainted. Who with grief have been acquainted. A fool never admires himself so much as when he has committed some folly.

Freedom of religion is not freedom from religion, as many seem to suppose.

Who hath not known ill-fortune never knew himself, or his own virtue.— [Mallett.

The most curious women willingly cast down their eyes to be looked at.—. [Chinese Proverb. :j

Towers are measured bv their shadows, and great men by those who are envious of them.

The wise man does not f-peak of all he does, but he does nothing that cannot be spoken of.

Nature knows no pause in progress and development, and attaches her iurse on all inaction.—[Goethe.

Gray hair? seem to my fancy like the light of a soft moon, silvering over the evening of life.—[Richter.

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

I have played the fool, the gross fool, to believe the bosom ftf a friend would hold a secret mine own could not contain.— [Masslnger.

All errors have only a time after a •, hundred millions of objections, subtleties, sophisms, and lies, the smallest truth remains precisely what it was before.

The cheerful are usually the busy. When trouble knocks at your door, or rings the bell, he will generally retire if you send him word you are "engaged."

If you will seem honest, be honest or else seem as you are. Seek not tho name without tho thing and let not the name be the only mark you shoot at that will follow, though you regard it not yea, and tho more you regard it, the less.—[Sir Thomas Wyalt.

Faces. Some of them speak not. They tire books in which not a line is written, save perhaps a date. Others arc great family Bibles with both tho Old and New Testaments written in them. Others are merely Mother Goose melodies and nursery tales.—[Longfellow.

Whoever makes a great fuss about doing good, docs very little he who wishes to be seen and noticod when he Is doing good, will not do it lonjj he who mingles humor and caprice with it will do it badlv. He who only thinks of avoiding faults and reproaches, will never acquire virtues.

A MYSTERY OF PERFUME. No one has yet been able to analyze or demonstrate the essential action of perfume. Gas can be weighed, but no scents. The smallest known creatures— the very monads of life—can be caught by a microscope lens and made to deliverup tho secrets of tLelr organizations but what is it that emanates from the pouch of the musk deer that fills a whole space for years and yoars with its penetrating ordor—in odor that an illimitable number of extraneous substances can carry on without diminishing its size snd weight—and what is it that tho warm summer air brings to us from the flowers, no man has yet been able to determine. So fine, so subtile, so Imponderable, It has eluded both our most delicate weights and measures and our strongest lenses. If we come to the essence of each o«Jor, we should have made an enormous stride forward both in bvglene and In chemistry, and none woufd profit more than the medical profession if It could bo as conclusively demonstrated that such an odor proceeded from such and such a cause, as we already know of sulphur, sulphurate hydrogen, ammonia, and the like.

Ay experiment at mesmerizing the rooster, which it may amuse the boys to repeat, has been described by several. It is recommended to place the rooster upon a table or board, and holding his

wings

close down to his side, let a sec

ond person bend down his head untl^ his beak touches the board on which he lies Then draw a line of white chalk straight out from the point of his beak. This done, the bird may be released from all restraint, and ho will not stir so much as a feather. "Nay, further," writes one, "yon may clap your hands, or shout eloie to him, without arousing blm from his lethargy, from which, however, he will ultimately recover."