Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 7, Number 14, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 30 September 1876 — Page 6

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THE MAIL

A Paper

There are spriugs of crystal nectar Ever welll:»•-' out of stone There art* pm iK buds aud golden,

Hlddeti, r. -ml, aud overgrown Ood, who eon ids l»y souls, not drtwes,

Loves and pro-iM-r. you and me, "While he value* throne* the highest But as pebbles in the sea. Man, upraised above his fellows,

Oft forget* bin fellows then Masters, rulers, lord* remember That your meanest mlnds are men Men by honor, men by feeling,

Men by thought and men by fame, Claiming tqual right* to sunshine, In a mau ennobling name. Tiiere are

4-«f

People.

for tiie

A GRAND OLD POEM.

Who shall Jadgeaman from his manners Who shall know huu from his diesa. Paupers may be fit for prince*.

Prince* fit for something less Crumpled shirt and dirty jacket, May beolotlie the golden on? Of the est thought and feel I nr.-?.

Satin could do 110 more.

roam-embroideredoctane,

1 here are little weed-clad rili:-, There arereeble inch-high 8aplli-gsr Tliere are ecdarson the hills Sod, who count* by souls, not. statiou, boves and jmwper* you and nie For to him all tamed distinctions

Are as ptbbles in the wa.

Toil ng hands a?one are bailders Of ft nation's wealth or famw Tilled laziness is pensioned,

Fed and fattened on the same By the sweat of other's foreheads, Livingonly to rejoice: Wiille a or man* outraged freedom

Valmy lltteth up Its voice.

Truth and Justice are eternal, Horn with loveliness aud light Secret wrong shall never prosper

While there is a sunny right fciod, whose world-heard voice is singing Boundless love to you and me, Sinks oppression with it* titles,

As the pebbles In the sea.

The Dead Secret.

11Y Wlt.KIK COLLINS.

CHAPTER III.

FltTEKN YEA ICS AKl'Ell.

The church of Long Beckiey large auri ultural village in one tne midland counties of England), although a building in no way remarkable either for its size, its architecture, or its antiquity, possesses nevertheless, one advantage which the merchant despots ot London have barbarously denied to their noble cathedral church of St. Paul. Ii has plenty of room to stand in, and it can consequently be soen with perfect convenience from every point ol view, all round the compass.

Tne laru" open space around the church an oe a proaohed in throe different direction*. 'I here is a road from the village, lending straight to the princi,.al door. Tlt.- is a broad gravel walk, whieh begins at the vicarage gptos, cniHsi'N tr.o church yard, and stops, as In duty hound, at the vestry entrance There is a loot path over the Adds, l»v whi. the lord of tho manor, and t'hegentry in geueral who iive in his august neighborhood, can reach the 91 'e door if the building. whenever tl.eir natural humility (aid. 1 by a favorable state of tho weather) may incline them to encourage Sabbath observance in tho stables, by going to church, like the lower sort of worshipers, on their own legs.

At naif past seven clock, on a certain fine summer morning, in the year eighteen hundred and buty-four, if any observant *tr»nger had happened to be standing in sonio unnoticed corner of tho church yard, and to be looking a -ont 11i111 with sharp eyes, he would ,%• orobablv have been the witness of proceedings which might have led him to believe that there was a conspiracy goin on in Long Beckiey, of which the ohureh was the rallying point, and some of tho most respectable inhabitants the principal leaders. Supposing him to have been looking toward the vicarage, as tho clock chimed the halt hour, he would have seen the Vicar of Long

Beck ley, tho Keverend Doctor ('hennery, leaving his houso suspiciously, by the back way glancing behind him guiltily as he approached the gravel walk 'that led to the vestry, stopping mysteriously Just outside the door, aud gazing anxiously down tho road that led lrotn the village.

Assuming that our observant stranger would upon this, keep out of sight, and look down tho road, like the vicar, he would next have soen the clerk of the church—an

austere,

tnm

ClNoVing

yellow faced, digni­

fied man a Protestant Loyola In appearance, and working shoemaker by trade —approaching with a look of unutterable mystery in bis lace and a bunch of big ys in his hand. Ho would have seen the clerk bow to the vicar with a grim smllo of intelligence—as Ouv Fawkes might have bowed to Catesbv when those two large gunpowder proprietors root lt take stock »n their exii*ivo Cringe of pt« mists under the Parliament lloii«w*. He would have seen the vicar m».1 In an abstracted way to the clerk, sud *a$—undoubtedly giving a Herj-t't pa^word uniiir the double di»guiH or «jommon remark and a friendly quw»tton—'"Fine morning, Thomas. Have yon had your breakfast yet?" lie would have heard Tbomaa replv. with a snspiciou* reg ir.l for minute particulars: "I have In a cup of tea and a er«*t, Sir." And he would then have seen these two local conspirators, after looking up with one accord at the church clock, draw oft together to lb* side door which commanded a view ol the foot path across the fields.

Following them—as our observant stranger could not surely fail to do—he would have detected three more oon- *. np'.v .tors advancing along the foot path, lit Tr leader oft his treasonable party was an elderlv m- taieman, with a -weatherbeaten faceaod a bhiff, hearty manner, admirably calculated to disarm suspicion. fits two foM. rs were a .. .i gentleman anda^uui i: lady, wn arm in arm, and to King together in whi*pors. They were dresse-l 'n the plainest morning costume. Tti !:*.••• of both were rather pale, and the niMiii afV.r I^ iy trn^ a ft*f ftorHed. her'..iwt I..i• r©!i».»rkaMe to

O^rv. in them uotd they u.i' wlcket-g*l® lft^iii.p in:u it cli:u-.h var*i» there th« conduct of th» young gent! r. sec *. I fclji'i". «, i*»herinex|^

11,1

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the uatc oj- for the te.iy to pa»i through, b© bung bs»f*r. nV her openU for herself, .it. ,1 ,ii iad tf'»ttoU»e ebtinsh •». '•ule. and -len, »'rctcbiog oathifrMwd over tlw• .iinwed wf to I him ihr. uuh ihe

i»

-i

n** that« hen the pan 'mm arrived *r',

th :ooog4»d.v's

st.

.uUr

-had

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yiously through tne wicaet gate, oar tnui*, *u uufc.it",

"observant stranger must have arrived at one inevitable conclusion—tliat the peison requiring such assistance as this was suffering under the affliction of 1 blindness. Startled a little by that discovery, be would bave been still further aiii»*~d if he had looked into the church, 1 hv seeing the blind man aud the young -T. .. a —t-Kck altar in pa

lady standing together before the rails, with the elderly gentleman

rental might

Cbennery to tho vicarage breakfaM table Mini hear what he has to say about his professional exertions of the morning, in the iamiliar atmosphere of bis own familv circle.

The persons assembled at tho breakfast were, tiret, Mr. l'hippen a guest secondly, li»s Sturch, a governess thirdly, fourthly, and lifthly, Miss Louisa Cbennery (aged ten years,) Miss Amelia Cbennery (aged nine 3 ears) and Master Robert Chennery (autd cizlit years.) There was no mother's lace present to make the household picture complete. Doctor Chennery had been a widower since the birth ol his ^ounyest child.

The guest was an old college acquaintance ofthe vicar's, and ho was supposed to be now staying at I^ong Beckiey lor the benefit of his health. Most men ol any character at all contrive to get a reputation of soui© sort which iudividualizes them in the social circle amidst which they move. Mr. Phippen was a man ot some little character, and he lived with great distinction in the estimation ot bis friends, on the reputation of being A Martyr to Dyspepsia. Wherever Mr. Phippen went, the woesol Mr. Phippen's stomach went with them. He dieted himself publicly and physicked hitu-elf publicly, lie was so intensely occupied with himself aiul his maladies, that he would let a chance acquaintance into the secret of the condition of his tongue at five minutes' notice, being iust as purp'it uiilly icady to discuss the state ot his digestion as people in general are to discuss the state or the weather On this favorite subject, as on all others, he spoke with a wheedling gentleness of manner, sometimes in softly mournful, sometimes in languidly sentimental tones. ills politeness was ot the oppressively affectionate sort, and he used the word "dear" continually, in addressing himself to others. Personally, he could not be called a handsome man. His eves were watery, large, and IUU trray 'they were always rolling from eii. to side in a state of moist admiration of something or somebody. His nose was long, drooping, profoundly melancholy—if such an expression may be permitted in reference to that particular feature. For the rest, his lips had a lachrymose twist his stature was small his head large, bald, and loosely set 011 his shoulders his manner of dressing himself eccentric, 011 the side of martness his age about five and I .i ty his condition limt of a single man. Such was Mr. Phippen, the Martyr to Dyspepsia, and the guest of the vicar of Long Beckiey.

Miss Sturch, the governess, may be briefly and accurately described as a young lady who had never been troubled with an idea or a sensation sin the day when she was born. She was a little, plump, quiet, white skinned, smiling, neatly dressed girl, wound up accurately to the performance of certain duties at certain times, ana possessed ol an inexhaustible vocabulary of commonplace talk, which dribbled placidly out of her lips whenever it was called for, always 111 tho same quantity, and always or ti.e same quality, at every hour in the day, and through every change In tie seasons. Miss Sturch ne»er laughed and never cried, but took the safe middle course of smiling perpetually. She smiled when she came down on a morning, in January, and ttaid it was very cold. She smllod when she came down on a morning in July, and said it was very hot. She smiled when tho bishop came once a year to see the vicar »ho smiled when the butcher's came every morning for orders.

boy She smiled when Miss Louisa wept on her bosom,and Implored indulgence toward errors in geography ufat* smiled when Master Robert jumped into her lap and ordered her to brush his hair. IiPt what might happen at tho vicarage, thing ever Jerked Miss Sturch out ol' the one smooth groove in which she ran p. rjx'tuallv, always at the same pace. If she had lived in a royalist family, during the civil wars In KngJand.sho would have rung lot tho 000k to order dinner on tho Morning of tho execution of Charles the First. If Shakkpeare had come back to life again, and had called at the vicar*go at six o'clock on Saturday evening, to explain to Miss Sturch exactly what his views were In composing the tragedy of ilainiet, she would have smiled and said it was extremely taterattimr, until the striking of seven o'clock at which time she would bave begged the Hard of Avon to excuse her, aud would have left him in tho middle of a sentence to superintend the bouseo.l in the verification of the washing b:HJH. A vtry estimable young person, MU* Sturch (as the ladies of Long Becklev v. ere nxustomed to say so Judicious with hildren, and so attached to h»»r household duties such a well regu tatcd mind, and such a crisp touihou the piano: just nioe looking enough} [last xv il dressed enough just talkative I enough not quite old enough, perbsps, and a little too much indis.' 1 to foe t*m!r*OPab'v pluniji ni "int the region of the waK: -but. on he wholo, a very estimable yoong person— very much ac, Indeed. oj the characteristic peculiarities of

MissSturch'spupils is 1necaaaary to dwelt at very gn «t n^th. Misa Louisa's habitual weakness «an invetettendency to catci1 Miss Ameh-t principal defect a u.-.tKisi-tmn .i• .1 fy ber palate by eating supplementary dinner* and toreakta^t* at unauthorized tlm sandiioa®ona. Ma«!« Robert's most w. fcilings were ":uum! by alierlty -a faring his clothes. id

:usee Ttibii wurs» ri'

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tug the Mnlu-

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attempted of the vicar himself. Dr. Chennery was, in a physical point of view, a credit to the establishment to which he was attached. He stood six feet two in his shooting shoes be weighed seventeen stone he was the beat bowler in the Long Becklev cricket club he was a strictly orthodox man in the matter of wine and mutton he never started disagreeable theories about

auauiclous he people's future destinies In the pulpir, 1 tr itnt. nt at th

S«v'8r ..uarr-led with .n?«t

bond

which united the conspira-.ors

early hour of the morning was ot the hvmeneal sort, and that the object of their plot was to celebrate a wedding with the ftrictcht werecy, would have been confirmed in five minutes by the appearance of Doctor Cbennery from the vestry in full canonicals, and by the reading of the marriage service In tho reverend gentleman's most harmoniouslv otliciating tones. The ceremony concludtd, the attendant stranger must have leen more perplexed than ever by observing that the persons concerned in it all separated the moment the signing, kissing, an., c..,. ulating duties prop er to the cccasion had been performed, and quickly retired in tho various directions by which lhesy bad approached the church. Leaving the clerk turn by the village road, the bride, bridegroom, and elderly gentleman to turn ba by the loot path over the li Ids, and t*:o visionary stranner of these pages to vanish out of them, a prey to baffled curiosity, in any direction that he pleases, let us follow Doctor

bc«l,v out or

I never quarreled wiui anyuuuy ui« at that the pulpit, never buttoned up his pockets, when the necessities of his poor brethren (dissenters included) pleaded with him to open them. His course through the world was a steady march along the high and dry middle of a sale turnpike road. The sepontiue side paths of controversy might open as alluringly as they pleased on his right hand ard on hi* left, but he kept on his way sturdily and never regarded them. Innovating recruits in the Church army

young might entrappingly open the Thirty-nine Articles under his very nose, out the veteran's wary eye never looked a hair's breadth further than his own signature at the bottom of them. He knew as little as possible of theology, he had never given tho Privy Council a minute's trouble in the wholo course ot his life, he was inuocout of all mrddlin with the reading or writing 01 pamphlets, and lie was quite incapable of finding his way to the platform of Exeter Hall. In short, he was the most unclerical of clergymen—but, for all that, he bad such a figure for a surplice as is seldom seen. Seventeen stone weight of upright muscular flesh, without an angry spot or a sore place in any part of it, has the merit of suggesting stability, at any rate—an excellent virtue in pillars of all kinds, but an especially precious quality, at the present, time, in a pillar of the Church.

As soon as tho vicar entered the breakfast parlor, the children assailed hitu with a chorus of shouts. Ho was a severe disciplinarian in the observance of punctuality at meal times and he now stood convicted by the clock of lx? ing too late for breakfast by a quarter of an hour.

Sorrv to haw- kept you waiting,' Mis* tjturch," said the vicar, '-but have a geod excuso for bein^ late this morning." "Pray don't mention it, Sir," said Miss Sturch,blandly rubbing her plump little hands one over the other. "A beautiful morning. I fear we shall have another warm day. liobert, my l«ye, your elbow is on the table. A beautiful morning—a beautiful morning, indeed!' "Stomach still

OHt

of order—eh, Pliip

pen asked the vicar, beginning to carve the ham. Mr. Phippen shook his large head dolefully, placed his yellow forefinger, ornamented with a large turquoise ring, ou the center check of his light green summer waistcoat—looked pittously at Doctor Chennery, and sighed—removed the finger, and produced from the breast pocket of his wrapper a little mahogany case—took out of it a neat pair of apothecary's scales, with thi accompanying weights, a morsel ginger, and a highly polished silver nut meg grater. "Dear Miss Stureli will pardon an invalid!" said Mr. Phippen beginning to grate the ginger leeblj- int. tho nearest tea-cup. "Guess what has made me a qunrtc, of an hour late this morning," said the vicar, looking mysteriously all round the table.

Lying in bed, papa," cried the three children, clapping their hands in tri utnph.

What do you say, Miss, Sturch?" asked Doctor Chennerj'. Miss Sturch smiled as usual, rubbed her hands as usual, cleared her throat sottly as usual, looked fixedly at the tea urn, and begged, with the most graceful politeness, to bo excused it she said nothing.

Your turn now, Phippen," said the vicar. Come, guess what lias -pt me late this morning."

My dear friand," said Mr. Phippen giving the doctor a brotherly squeeze of the hand, "don't ask me to guess—I know! I saw what you ate at dinner—I saw what you drank after dinner. No digestion could stand it—noteven yours Guess what has made you late this morning! Poob!pooh!

begin-ver*4»-wij 'her pr~

I ii part be sill. HCtLl

Lu.

I

r"

TERR 10 HAUTE SATURDAY EVENIIMu MAIL.

know. You

dear, good soul, you have been taking physic Haven't touched a drop, thank Ood for the last ten years!" said Doctor Chennery, with a look of devout gratitude. "No, no your'e all wrong. The fact is, I havo heen to church, and what do you think I have been doing there? Listen, Miss Sturch—listen, girls, with all your oars. Poor blind young Frank land is a happy man at last—I have married hiin to our dear Rosamond Treverton this very morning!"

Without telling us, papa!" cried the two girls together, in the shril est tones of vexation and surprise. "Without telling us, when you know how ho should have liked to seo it!" "That was tho very reason why I did not tell vou, my dears," answered the vicar. "'Young'Frankland has not got so used to his affliction yet, poor follow, as to bear being publicly pitied aud stared at in the character of a blind bridegroom. He had such 11 nervous horror of being an object of curiosity on his wedding day, and Rosamond, like a true, kind hearted girl as she is. was so anxious, that his slightest caprices should oe humored, that wn seltle to havo the wedding at an hour In the morning when no idlers were likely to be lounging about the neighborhood of the church, I was bound over to the strictest secrecy about the day, and so was mv clerk, Thomas Kxcepting us two, and the bride and bridegroom, and the bride's father, Captan 'i'rov«rtnn nobody knew—" "Treverton!" exclaimed Mr. Phippen holding his tea cup, with the grated ginger in the bottom of it, to be filled by Miss Sturch. "Treverton! (No more tea, dear Miss Sturch.) How very remarkable! I know-he name. (Fill up with water, If you please.) Tell me, my dear doctor (many, many thanks no sugar, it turns acid on the stomach), is this Miss Treverton whom you have been marrying (many thanks again no milk, either) one of the Cornish Trevertjns?" "To be sure she is!" rejoined tho vicar. "Her father, Captain Treverton, la the head ofthe family. Not that tbem'a much family to speak of now. The Captain, and Rosamond, and that whimsical old brute of an tincle of hem, Andrew Treverton, are the last left, now, of the old stock—a rich family, and a fin® family, in former time#—jrood friends to church and State, you know, and all that—"

Do you approve, Sir, of Amelia havitrg a second helping of bread and marmalade?" asked Miss Sturch, appealing to I) !or Chennery, with the moet per feet urtoonacloasiies* of Interrupting! him. ving no spare room 1n her mind for putting away things, until the appropriate time came for bringing toetn 1 out, Mi«t Sturch always asked quest -m and made remark)* the moment iLty. r-ccurred to her, with-it waiting fr the

1 1"

?••il loi^Ut H*=, §u- lnvar::i' 'y l«»K«d yfislentl*i«r|W«u«akHfc, ictcd it except In the c*»

My dear, good soul," exclaimed Mr.

4

Apparatus. Oil our

wheels, if you like but clog them a* your peril. Farinaceous puddings and mutton chops mutton chops and farinaceous pudding—those should bo the parents' watchword". \r had my way, from one end ui England to the other. Ij«Kk here, my sweet child, look at me. Theioisno fun, dear, about these little scales, but dreadful earnest. See! I put in the balance, on one side, dry bread (»ta!e, dry bread, Amelia and on tho other, some ounce weights. 'Mr. Phippen eat by weight. Mr. Phippen! eat tho same quantity, day by day, to a hair's breadth. Mr.'Ph.ppen! exceed your allowance (though it is only stale, dry bread) if you dare!' Amelia, love, this is not fun—this is what the doctors toll me—the doctors, my child, who have been searching my Apparatus through and through, for thirty years past, with little pills, and have not found out where my wheels aro clogged yet. Think of that, Amelia—think of Mr. Phippen's clogged Apparatus—and say

No, thank you,' next time. Miss Sturch, I beg a thousand pardons for intruding 011 vour province but my interest in that sweet child, my own sad experience of the hydra headed tortures—('hennery, you dear, good soul, what were you talking about? Ah! the bride—the interesting bride! And so, she is one of the Cornish Trevertons? I knew something ot Andrew, years ago, Eccentric and misanthropical. Bachelor, like myself, Miss Sturch. Dyspeptic, like myself, dear Amelia. Not at all like his brot her, the captain, I should suppose? And so, she is married 1 A charming jjirl, I have no doubt. A charming girl!"

No better, truer, prettier girl in the world," said the vicar. "A very livo.y, energetic person said Miss Sturch. "How I shall miss her!" said Miss Louisa. "Nobody else amused mo as Rosamond did, when I was laid up with that last bad cold of mine." "She used to give us such nice little earl supper parties," said Miss Amelia "She was the only girl I over saw who was fit to play with the boys,' said Master Robert. "Shecould catch a bah Mr. Phippen, sir, with one hand, and go d-)wn a slide with both her legs to i^ether."

Bless me said Mr. Phippen, "What an extraordinary wife lor a blind man! Yon said he was blind, 1113' dear doctor, did you not Let me see, what was his li'vne You will cot bear too hardly 011 my loss of memory, Miss Sturch? When indigestion has ravaged the body, it be gins to prey on the mind. Mr. Frank Something, was it not Blind, too, from his birth? Sad sad "No, no—Frankland," answered the vicar. "Leonard Frankland. And not blind from bis birth by any means. It is not much more than one year ago since he could see a most as well as any of us." '•An accident, I suppose!" said Mr. Phippen. "You will excuse me if take the arm chair? a partial reclining posture is of great assistance to me, after meals. So an acciuent happened to his eyes? Ah, what a delightfully easy chair to sit In

Scarcely an accident," said Dr. Chennery. "Leonard Frankland was a difficult child to bring up great constitutional weakness, you know, at first. He se9ined to get over that with time, and grew into a quiet, sedate, orderly sort of boy—as unlike my son there as possible —very amiable, and what you call easy to deal with. Well, he had a turn for mechanics (I am telling you all this to ike you understand about liis blindness,) and after veering about from one occupation of that *ort to another, he took at last to watchmaking. Curious amusement for a boy, but anything that required delicacy of touch and plenty of patience and perseverance, was just the thing to amuse and occupy Leonard. I always said to his father and mother, "(Jet him ofif that stool, break his magnifying glasses, send him to me, and I'll give him a back at Leap Frog, and teach him the use of a foa But it was no use. His parents knew best, I suppose, and they said he must be humored. Well, things went on smoothly enough for some lime, till Ik got another long illness, as I believe, from not taking exercise enough. As soon as he began to get round, back he went to his old watchmaking occupations again. But tho bad end of it all was coming. About the last work ho did, poor follow, was the repairing ot my watch—here it is goes as regular as a steam engine. I hadn't got it back into mv fob very long before I heard that he was getting a bad pain at the back of hh head, and that be saw all sorts of moving spots before his eyes. String him up with lots of port wine, and give liini three hours a day on the ick of a qijiot pony—that was my advice. Instead of taking it, they sent for doctors from I/mdon, and blistered him behind the ears, and between tho shoulders, and drenched tbe lad with mercury, and moped him up In a dark room. Sro use. The sight got worse and worse, flickered, and went out at last like the flu 1110 of a candle. His mother died— luckily for her, poor soul—before that happened. His father was half out of hi* mind took him to oculists in London, and oculists in Paris, All they did was to call the blindness by a long Latin name, and to say that It was hopeless and useless to try an operation. Some of them said It was the result of the long weaknesses Irom which he had twice sulk*red after illneee. Some said it was an apopletic effusion in his brain. All of them shook their heads when Jthev heard of the watchmaking. So they brought him back home blind idind he is now and blind he will remain, poor dear fellow! for the rest of hia fife-''

You shock me my dear (hennery, you shock me dreadfully," said Mr. Phippen. "Especially when you state that theory about long weakness after illnees. Good Heavens! W by, 1 haye had long weaknesses—I have got them now. Spot* did he see before hia eyes? I see spot*, black spots, dancing black spots, dn' ing black billons spots. Up.Tn my word of honor, Chennery, this e,.m«* home to me—my sympathies •te i.e. in roily acute—1 feel this blind ry in every nerve of my body I do ieed!"

You old li irdty kti"w hat Leon-nr-t wa* l- ni'l, look ui w»," said .' -*TI nksnu into the c» nvei*a-

It.n

wit'i a Ti--v of restore .»• Phlp-i ^.laaim-.tv. "Kxr-H cj-iieter than otlier p"oj le'» rx

1

W

i«

talk that was aimed point blank at her thero seems no difference in them now. wn ears. Who was that famous character you told us about, Miss Sturch, who was blind, means!"saiti me vicar, careiessiy --sue and didn't show it any more than Leon-

must overeat herself, and she may as well do it on bread and marmalade as on anything else."

"V 7

4* r/.

ard Frnnkland Milton, my love. I begged you to remember that be wastes most famous of British epic poets," answered Mrs.

Phippen, "look what a wreck I am, and Sturch, with suavity. "Ho poetically don talk in that shockingly thought-(deseribes his blindness as being caused less way ot letting our sweet little Amd* by 'so thick a drop serene.' You shall

lia overeat herself. Load th» stomach in youth, and what becomes of the digestion in age? The thing which vulgar people call the inside—I appeal to Miss Sturch's interest in her charming pupil as an excuse for going Into physiological particulars—is, in point of fact, an Apparatus. Digestively oonsidered, Miss Sturch, evi the fairest and youngest of us is an

read about it, Louisa. After we bave had a little French, we will have a little Milton, this morning- Hush, love, your papa is speaking."

Poor young Frankland!" said the vicar, tenderly. That good, tender, noble creature' I married him to this mornins seems sent as a consolation to him in his affliction. If any human being can make him happy lor tbe rest of his life, Rosamond Troverton is tfio girl to do it." "She has made a sacrifice," said Mr. Philpen but I like her for that, having made a sacrifice myself in remaining single. It seems indispensable, indeed, on the score 01' humanity that I should do so. How could I conscientiously inflict such a digestion as tuuie on a member of the fairer portion of creation? No I am a Sacrifico In my own proper person, and I have a fellow feeling for others who are like me. Did she cry much, Chenery, when you were marrying her?" ,. -rv j«» exclaimed the vicar contemptuously. Rosamond Treverton is not one of the puling, sentimental sort, I can tell you. A fine, buxom, warmhearted, quick-tempered girl, who looks what she means when sho tells man she is going to marry him. And, mind you, she has been tried. If she hadn't loved bim witli all her heart and soul, she might have been free months ago to marry any body she pleased. They were engaged long before this cruel afllictiou befell young Frankland—thefathers, 011 both sides, having lived as near neighbors in tnese parts for years. Well, when the blindness came, Leonard,like the fine conscientious follow he is, at once offered to release Rosamond from her engagement. You should have read the letter she wrote him, Phippen, upon that. I don't mind confessing that blubered like a babv over it, when they showed it to me. should havo married them atoncetbe instant I read it, but old Frankland wasa fidgety, punctilious kind of man, and he insisted on a six months' probation, so that she might be certain of knowing her own mind, lie died before the term was out, and that caused the marriage to be put off again.

But no delays could alter Rosamond six years, instead of six months, would not have changed her. There sho was this morning as fond of that poor patient blind fellow as sho was the lirst day they were engaged.

4

You shall

never know a sad moment, Lenny, if I

0.111

help it, «s long as you live,' those were the first words she said to him when we all came out of church. 'I hear you, Rosamond,' says I. 'And you shall judge me, too, doctor,'saysshe, quick as lightning. 'We will come back to Long Beckiey, and you shall ask Lenny ill have not "kept my word.' With that, she gave me a kiss that you might have heard down here at the vicarage, bless her heart! We'll drink her health after dinner, Miss Sturch—we'll drink both their healths, Phippen, in a bottle 01 the best wine I-have in my cellar." "In a glass of toast and water, so far as I am concerned, if you will allow ine," said Mr. Phippen, mournfully. "But, mv dear Chennery, when you were talking of the lathers of those two interesting young people, you spoxe of their living as near neighbors here, at Ijong Beckiey. My memory is impaired, as I am painfully aware but I thought Captain Treverton was the eldest of tbe two brothers, and that he always lived, when he was 011 shore, at the family place in Cornwall?" "So he did," returned the vicar, "in his wife's lifetime. But since her death, wuich happened as long ago as the year 'twenty-nine—let me see, we are now in the vcar 'forty four—and that makes—"

The vicar stopped for an instant to calculate, and looked at Miss Sturch. "Fifteen years ago, sir," said Miss Sturch, offering the accommodation of a little simple subtraction to the vicar, with her blandest smile. "Of course," continued Dr. ('hennery, "Well, since Mrs. Treverton died, fifteen years ago, Captain Treverton has never l«en near Porthgenna Tower. And, wha*. is more, Phippen, at the first opportunity he could get, ho sold the place—sold it, out and out, mine, fish eries and nil—for forty thousand pounds." "You don't say so?" exclaimed Mr. Phippen. "Did ~he find the air unhealthy? I should think the local produce, in the way of food, must be coarse now, in those barbarous regions? Who bought the place "Leonard Frankland's father," said the vicar. "It is rather a long story, that sale of Porthgenna Tower, with some curious circumstances involved in it. Suppose we take a turn in the garden, Phippen I'll toll you all abeut it over my morning cigar. Miss Sturch, if you want me, 1 shall boon tho lawn somewhere. (Jirls. mind you know your lessons Bob, remember tiMt I've got a cane in the hall, and a birch rod in my dressing room. Come, Pblnpen, rouse up out of that arm chair. You won't say no to a turn in the warden?" "My dear fellow I will say yes—if you will kindly lend me an umbrella, and allow me to eirrv mv camp sftool in my hand," said Mr. Pl'tippeu. "I am too weak to encounter tho sun, and I can't go far without sitting down. The moment I feel fatigued, Sli«# Sturch, I open mv camp stool and sit down anywhere, without the slightest regard for appearancea. I am ready, Chennery, whenever you are—equally roady, my good friend, for the garden and the story about the sale of Porthgenna Tower. You said it was a curious story, did you not?" "I said there were wine curious circumstances connected with it," replied the vicar. And when you hoar about them, I think you will say ao, too. Como along you will find your camp stool, and a choice of all tho umbrella* In the house, in the hall."

With those words, Dr. Chennery opened hia cigar case, and led tho way out ofthe breakfast parlor.

CHAPTER

IV,

TUB HAf.KOF PORTHOEXJfA .'"WRIt. "How charming! how pastoral! how exquisitely soothing to the nerves" said Mr. Phippen, sentimentally surveying the lawn at the back of the viqarage bouae, under the shadow of the lightest umbrella he could pick out of the hall. "Three years haye passed, Cbennery— three Buffering years for me, but we need not dwell on that—aloce I last atood on this lawn. There la tbe window of your old study, where

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had that at­

tack of heartburn last tlmo—in the strawberry season don't von remember? Ah 1 and there is tbe school room! Shall I ever forget dear Miss Sturch oiling to me ont of that room—a min!«erin- an,.--with f-la and gln"r— s.jootnr- so aw©'anxious -ut stirring it "P. unaflfeeie.iiy griey. 1 t?r3f fher* rr- HO aal-VuinMl* f" !. 1 .lo HO anjoy tlM plea-.iul recoll'-cUon*, C'lienneryi they are a»

1!

great a luxury to me as your cigar is to you. Could yon walk on the other side, my dear follow? I like the smell, but tbe smoke is a little too much for me. Thank you. And now about tho story— the curious story What was the name of the old place—I am so Interested in it —it began with a P, surely?" "Porthgenna Tower," said tbe vicar. "Exactly," rejoined Mr. Phippen," shifting tbe umbrella tenderly tri.m one. shoulder to the other. "And what in-, the world made Captain Treverton sell Porthgenna Tower "I believe the reason was that he could net endure the place after the death of his wife," answered Doctor Chennery. v.,U "The estate, you know, has never been entailed so the captain had no difficulty in parting with it, except, of course, the* diliicu'ty of finding a purchaser." "Why not his brother? asked Mr. Phippen. "Why notour eccentric friend, Andrew Treverton

Don't call him my friend," said tho vicar. "A mean, groveling, cynical, selfish old wretch! It's 110 use shaking your head, Phippen, and trying to look shocked. I know Andrew Treverton's early history as well as you do. 1 know' that ho was'treated with the basest ingratitude and villainy by a college friend who took all he had "So give, aud swiiidied him at last in the grossest manner. 1 know all about that. But one instance of ingratitude does justify a man in shutting himself up Irom society, end railing against all mankind as a disgrace to tho earth they walk on. I myself have heard the old brute say that the greatest benefactor to our generation: would be a second Herod, who could prevent arotber gc ration from succeeding it. Ought a ninn who can talk in that way to be the friend of any hu­(for

man beiug with the slightest res{«jct his species or himself "My friend ?"said Mr. Phippen. ("itching the vicar by the arm, anu mysteriously lowering hiis voice, "my dear and reverend friend! I admire \our honest indignation against the utterer of that exceedingly misanthropical sentiment but—1 confide this to you, Chennery, in the strictest secrecy—there are moments —morning moments generally—when my digestion is in such a state, tUat I have, actually agr- ed with -t arn'hilating person, Andrew Troverton! I have woke up. with my tongue liko a cinder—I have crawled to tho glass and looked at it—and 1 have said to myself, let there be an end of the human race rather than a continuance of this!" •Pooh pooh cried tho vi«a»r, receiving Mr. Phippen's confession with a burst of irreverent laughter. "Take a glass of cool sm ill beer next time your tongue is in that state, and you will pray for a continuance of the brewing part of tho human race, at any rate. But let 11s go back to Porthgenna Tower, or 1 shall never get 011 with my story. When Captain Treverton had once made up his mind to sell the place, 1 have no doubt that, under ordinary circumstances, lie would have thought of offering it to hia brother (who inherit* bis mot lit Ibrtune, you know) with a view, o! courso, lo keeping the estate in the family. Not that Andrew would li.ive been much gortd in that way, for a more confirmed old bachelor never existed. However, as things were at that time(and are still. I am sorry to say) the captain could make no personal offers of any kind to Andrew—for the two were not then, and are uot now, on speaking, or even on writing terms. It is a shocking thing to say. but the worst quarrel of the kind 1 ever heard of, is the quarrel between those two brothers." "Pardon me, my dear friend," dd Mr. Phippen, opening his camp stool, which had hitherto hung, dangling by its silken tassel,on tiie hooked handle of the umbrella. "May I sit down before you go any farther I am getting a little excited about this part of the story, and I dare not fatigue myself. Pray go on. I don't think the legs of my camp stool will make holes in the lawn. I am so light—a mere skeleton, in fact. l)o go on "You must have heard," pursued tho vicar, "that Captain Treverton, when ho was advanced 111 life, married an actress —rather a violent temper, I believe, but a person of spotless character, and as fond of her husband as a woman could be therefore, according to my view of it, a very good wife for him to marry. However, tbe captain's friends,of course, niado the usual senseless outcry, and the captain's brother, as the only near relation, took it on himself to attempt breaking off the marriage in the most offens vely indelicate way. Failing in that, and hating the poor woman liko poison, he left his brother's house, saying, among many other savage speeches, one infamous thing about the brido, which—which, upon my honor, Phippen, I atn ashamed to repeat. Whatever the words were, they were unluckily carried to Mrs. Trcverton's ears, and they wero ofthe kind that no woman— let alone a quick tempered womanlike the captain's wife—ever forgives. An interview followed between the two brothers—aud It led, a-s you may easily imagine, to very unhappy resulis. Tney parted in the most deplorable manner. The captain declared, in the heat of his passion, that Andrew had never had one genetous impulse in his heart •»inco he was Iforn, and that ho would die without one kind filing toward any living soul in the world. Andrew roplied, that if ho had no heart, he had a memory, and that he should remember those farewell words a* long as he lived. So they separat»d. Twice afterward, the captain made overtures of reconciliation. The first time, when his daughter Rosamond was born the second time, when Mrs. Troverton died. On each occasion the elder brother wrote to aay that if the younger would retract the atrocious words bo hail spoken against his sister-in-law, every atonoment should be offered to him for the harsh language which tho captain had used, in the hastiness ol anger, when tbev last mot. No answer was received from Andrew to either letter and the estrangement between tho two brothers has continued to the present time. You understand now why Captain Treverton could not privately consult Andrew's inclination before he publicly announced his intention of parting with Porthgenna Tower?"

Although Mr. Phippen declared, in answer to thia appeal, that he understood perfectly, and although ho begged with the utmost i*liteness that the vicar would go on, hia attention soei:e-I for the moment to be entirely absorbed In Inspecting the legs of his camp stool and in ascertaining what lmpre*slo they made on tbe vicarage lawn. Doc tor Chennery's own interest, boweve In the circumstances that ho was rela log, seemed sufficiently strong to make up for any transient lapse of attention on tbe part of bis guest. After a few vigorous puffs at h»s cigar (which had bJkn several tim'-x in imminent danger of going out while he was speaking), he went on with his narrative In these words: "Well, th* house,the estate, the mine, and the tHb^ries of Porthgenna were all abliclv it np to sale, a few months a tor Mr Treverton'* death: but no offer* were made for the property whielj wa-pwaibuj to accent. Th^ Vvinmis tate "t the house, the bed eult ui of (bnti,»alm Third page.)

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