Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 7, Number 42, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 14 April 1877 — Page 2

TH EMAIL

A- PAPER FOR THE PEOPLE.

TEKRE

HAUTE, APRIL 14, 1877.

FARTHER ON THE WAY. BY J. C. HAGEN.

•'ton mast be very old," I said One day to Gaffer Gray. "Not so old, my friend,'' was his reply, "Bat far upon the way."

"We all are only travUng home, Some with a step more strong Bat I am growing weary, for

The joarney has been long.

"They tell me I am going down,

AS

Kinks tne sun at even,

Bat ev*ry step is upward now, Ana takes me nearer Heaven. "No 1 though I feel my hold on earth

Grow feebler every aay.t It is not that I'm older, but I'm farther on the way."

Tit For Tat.

BY FRANCIS ASHETON.

"Itis all wrong—wrong from begin- vancnti, uko j-—o ning to end." puff away the reputation of the married 'I don't see how it can be so very women as if it were thistledown or gosnuAmSoa iriA that

... women wrong when every one knows there is gamer. Oh, Minnie, promise me mat nothing in it." you will give up this sort of life. I don "And that's just one of the reasons, know whom you have met lately, biit Minnie, why it is so wrong." fear some one who has managed to "That's an admission! it's too frivolous and superficial a way of sinuing for you. You would like a great big tragical crime, and look down upon my poor little peccadilloes as if they were not worth tbe sinnning. "You know, Minnie, I did not mean that, and you know, too, what I did mean—only you prefer not saying so. What I mean is, that tbere might be an excuse, although not a justification, for a quarried woman's doing the sort of thing you do if her feelings were reall" avowed but this thing which you a call receiving attention and nav

—-rr ly involved but this thing which you all call receiving attention and nav n~ friendships is simply vulgarizing an lowering." "Weil, my dear, every woman I know does it, and I'm no better than my neighbors. I do

DO

amuse myself and there's no concealment about it. Half the time I read the sentimental notes I get aloud to George after dinner while he smokes, and I always put my flowers ostentatiously in the parlor." "Yes. You read him your notes half the time—be it said en passant, that is rather a shabby way ot clearing your conscience—but how about the other hSirof the time, and how about the rose you ohose fioui out the bunch to be favored beyond the rest!" Minnie blushed hor friend was pushing her rather hard, she thought. What was the good of being frank if it did not exempt you from criticism. She made no answer for a minute. Miss Evans saw her advantage and pushed it. "The bottom of the whole thing is vanity, and such cold hearted, coarse vanity too. Don't you see it vourstlf, when you stop to think it over?" "You can hardly expect me to say that I am vain, and cold hearted, and coarse," answered Mrs. Farquhar, just a little sulkily, leaning back in the car riage.

They were driving along through Central Park. It was their last tete-a-tete before Margaret Evans should go home to the small country town in which she lived. She had been staying with Mrs. Farquhar, her dearest friend, and one of years' standing, for three weeks past, and had observed keenly and intelligently the sort of life she led. The result of her observations deter mined her to "have it out" with Minnie before they parted. She was.a couple of years older, and of a very different na ture—higher, stronger, and more per fectly balanced. She saw that Minnie was rapidly adopting tbe code ef the women about her, and determined to make an effort to open her eyes to its result. Now, she paused at the sight of her friend's annoyance, doubtful what to say next. Before she could speak, however, Minnie, whose temper was al most perfect, turned a sunny smile upon her. "I did not mean to be cross, dear," she said, slipping her tiny, unh Margaret's arm, "and, on any harm

gloved fingers through and squeezing it gently "and, on my word, I don't mean to do any harm either. "I know that, my darling," said Margaret warmly. "I

fear some

Ve*I6never

barm. 1 only

never dreamed that

you did. But, Minnie, let me speak once. You know I can't preaoh after to-morrow, and you have always let me preach to you." "Wfll, go on."

yy 44U ira OIl» vuwv* What I want to ask youis,uot to

have these relations to men which hon

for it you are not a saint in a shrine to them, but a weman to be wooed, "•adhere comes what makes the real interest to them—possibly to be won and all the time that you do what you call amuse yourself with them, you are really dis honest and untrue, and you are eer tainly vulgarising your emotions and your sentiments by hawking them about." "All the women do It," pleaded Min-

n"You have no concern with that—and they don't quite all either." "Well then all tbe amusing ones—all the women one ever meets." "Then don't go where you 'meet' peo pie. "It's all this ridiculous do nothing idea that is supposed to be part of a fine lady's existence. Necessarily women mu-»t do something, and they are driven. "What can I do?" "Minnie, dearest, I cannot lay out your life for you, or live it either. Only it is plain to me that if yon go on as you do now, you will come to your senses some day with a shook and when that happens you will feel that you have"— she hesitated, and then ended the sentence abruptly with—"lost something you would give the world to have kept. Good heavens! When I look at the women of society* and see what a network of trivial deceptions, and eager vanity, and petty feelings they immesh their souls in, and how they live on cbafl and worse than chaff, and starve in doing it, I don't know which I despise most— them or the uisn that help to degrade them and sink with them themselves and vow will never marry any man who has bad bis 'name connected'— that's the polite phrase, Isn't it?—with a married woman's.,* "That's a very rash resolution my dear." "No, a wise one, and I mean it with all my heart. No onecan better understand than I the strength, the overwhelming force of a real passion, and I can fancy meeting a man after my marriage to another, who might inspire it

MI

and I can even imagine admitting it to him and to myself for one moment, one supreme moment, and then send* him away forever "But that would be perfectly dreadfuL You don't mean that you would tell a man th®t you loved him, do you. It would be such a wild, imprudent thing to do." "And yet, to my mind, Minnie, noth ing like so dreadful as this incessant puppet show of society, where vanity apes love and the senses act the part of prompter. Everything is thought of appearances the restraints are outride restraints—like Mr. Fag. 'The only thing that hurts their consciences is to be found cut' and then, above all, I think horrible the constant falsehood it entails.

The momenta woman permits a man to have what is called a 'real relation to her, secrecy is its prime requisite, and that can only be socured by throwing dust freely in every one's eyes, and 'managing the affair' so as to get ones chestnuts snd neither burn nor blacken one's fingers." "Why, Margaret, how bitterly in earn est you arel"

I am bitter, I admit, and it is think ing over what I have seen in these past three weeks that has made me so. What have I seen? the married women competing with the young girls on their JnLund, and outbidding them by their liberal offers on easy terms and en evanehe, I have heard the

When Minnie Farquhar opened her eyes the next morning, it was with a sudden consciousness that Margaret was gone and sorry as she was to think it, yet tbere was a sense of elastic freedom in it too. While she was dressing she thought over their conversation of tbe day before, and said to herself: "There was a great deal in what Margaret said, although she was so harsh. I suppose it is really better not to but it is very hard, society is so tame if one cares no more for one man than another. I wonder if Aud here her thoughts

seemed

JllB vu uitjii nuiwu uvu .tbe

Hardly Words to

young

girls

please yon just in this way. "Why do you say that?" said Minnie with a bright blush

JvD vrigu* uiuoui v*fi "Only because you have worn a little bunch of mignonette and no other flower for three days and I have noticed that it was fresh every day and yesterday when you came home from Mrs. Castle's kettledrum you were excited and absorbed." "How you seem to walch me! ex claimed Mrs. Farquhar, just a little

watch any one except when I

really love them," said Margaret "and if it irks you, remember to-morrow ends it all. Only think of what I have said, and don't let George's absolute trust and his careless, easy going ways make you forget that you bold his happiness in your hands, and that not one of these men would do as much to save your life as he would for your slightest

^Uove George very dearly, and I always tell him everything," murmured Minnie. .. "Did you tell him why you wore the mignonette?" "Yes, I did. I said I had a sentiment about it, and it wouldn't have remained one had I told him what it was. 'Sentiment for three is an impossible dish,' as Harry Lawrence says. Everything in the world happens to and belongs to only two people at a time—never more. "Well, nere we are almost at home. You will forgive me if I have vexed you and you will not forget?" »No—no." and a kiss sealed each assurance. Then they hurried up stairs to dress for dinner.

What Margaret had said gave Minnie an uneasy feeling, and one which she resented, while she oould not shake it off. She even had a slight sense of relief in the recollection that after to-mor-row her friend could no longer watch her aud note her acts or manner but this she did not admit even to herself. She came down to dinner with her little bunch of mignonette in her dress and answered Margaret's smile and glance with another. Her friend was pleased that she had not laid aside her little tell tale token of surrepititious sentiment. "It was braver and bolder," she thought, "not to put it aside to-night after what 1 said and Minnie's frankness is one of her best qualities." All through the evening Msrgaret was unusually tender ana caressing to her friend, who was also a younger sister to her heart and no reference was made to the morning's lecture by either of the two women. They said their farewell that night, for Margaret's start was to be a very early one, and she bad made it a condition that Minnie should not see her off.

to fix themselves on a memory,

*. Iswil* in nnr Avoa ho. and dreamy look in her eyes be-

MV

.-

eyoomb sooiety. If they mean nothing, trayed that thta time it was not^upon^an they are too trivial and ompty to engage

abstraction. She was roused from her

•ou for a moment. If they mean any- reverie by a servant bringing her a card Ei:»a|.«Zrhin«-™ni.U„TwK -.'M^^rorbV"p" -"J«Trh"e,-iwlfrbi you Instinctively denv to yourself and tbere in a minute," and in not one but every one else. It 'is all essentially five minutes, Minnie was seated in a unworthy of a proud or a truthful wo- coupe beside a handsome woman some man. You wont like me to say it, but ten years her senior, who greeted her •after all. you buy all this homage from with a cordial, hearty welcome, and these men. You give them something told the coachman to take them to Mrs. ... Heywood's. "So Miss Evans left you to-day! Oh! how you will miss her. But then you can hardly miss a woman either, you have such a circle of men always about you." "Oh. no. I—I stammered Minnie, a little pleased and a little staggered. "Oh, yes, yen do. my dear, and why not? You ere just the woman to be able to keep a man a proper distance and not lose him. What would 1 not have given for that power at your age.

Now, I have learned to take my wine in aipe, as you do bui you do it naturally —favourer des delices, as the French Ofcll It, At your age I was all for squee* ing my orange ana throwing it away It took a great many bard lessons to teach me not to do that but you require no teaching, you know instinctively how to treat men. It's a talent, my dear, I assure you—a gift. The whole secret of life tor a woman is to know how to get out of men what she wants without being forced to take what she doesn't

"But Margaret says it's not fair to do that," said Minnie, instinctively falling back on her friend. "Miss Evans says that? Oh, yes, no doubt. My dear child. Miss Evans Is one of those one-idea'd creatures who areas deep as a well and as inaccessible as a steeple. She cannot conceive of at tracUns any one, or being attrajted by any one superficially. She is never content with tie surface of anything she most go beneath. Conceive of lite as a

Evans got on a thin plsoe, she woald be sure to stamp, to see if it would hold she could not understand your philoeophy of life or mine either. Here we are already. I declare."

Minnie, slightly bewildered by being .. ...

#ke

TERRK TTAUTE SATURDAY EVENING MAIL.

way through a crowd of rather noisy ladies and gentlemen toward their hostess. Bad

Mrs. Farquhar said ton Mm. Winthrop when she

beard some one say beside ber, Wont you speak to me?" and turning, found tbe questioner standing at her elbow—a handsome young man standing bead and shoulder taller than any one about him. "Certainly," she said. "Have you just come?"

4

..

'No I have been here for about hair an hour. I thought you said three o'clock.

This was said as they were moving aside out of the current. He wss leadin? ber toward a sofa in a corner. But I believe I had no engagement with you Mr. Hamilton," said Mrs. Farquhar hurriedly.

Yes, I know that very well," he replied "but you said three o'clock, and you won't quarrel with me for waiting toseeyou?" "Oh, no." "Then please sit here five minutes and let me tell you." Minnie seated herself. He paused. "Well?" she said. "I have nothing to tell you," he eaid: "that was only a ruse to hold your atten flon

And have you really nothing to tell

me?»

"A great deal, if you will listen." His eyes were fixed on hers, and tbe could not help blushing. "Don't let me annoy you," he said in whisper. "I would rather do anything else in the world than tbat, you know. You are not like any one else to me you area sort of dream—an ideal and all that I ask is only to be allowed to burn incense before your image in my heart." ,,,, "You must not talk so wildly—so foolighly "It is not wild or foolish," said Ham ilton eagerly. "You do not know just how much a woman like you does lor a man simply by receiving from him what I offer you and why should you not be my dearest friend I have not seen you often, it is true, but you must feel that part of my soul belongs to yours, and has from the first moment we met." .. "Would you really care to be my friend she said timidly. "You know, if you feel in this way, I should give you something in return, and that I cannot do." "I ask for nothing," he exclaimed— "only that I may sometimes see you, ami that I may tell you how much you do for me, Bimply by being in the world only for a flower fcom your hand —one that you have worn now and then. Surely you cannot refuse so little to any one—unless, indeed, you dislike

mef*

"You Mhow I don't do that," she said almost in a whisper and as she spoke she disengaged one of the sprays of m'g* nonette (a fresh bunch had come that morning), and laid it in his hand. He took it quickly, and held it for a mo ment, saying, "I have sent you mignon ette and no other flower, oecause I wan ted to symbolize the unobtrusive ana humility of my feelings for you. These gorgeous red roses say more—but they say loo much, I fear—more than you would listen to."

How delicate and respectful was his every word and thought and how could there be any reason why She should not have him for her friend?

They talked on for a few moments more, and then Minnie said. "I see Mrs. Montrose making her way through the other room, and I must go." "Oae word first," said Hamilton. "Whatever you give me, however trifling it may be, will still be my own, will it not? You won't feel as if it were open to any one's judgment but your own I jiean that what is between us is ours and no one's else?" "Surely it is." "Thank you. May I come to see you soon? Will you beat Mrs. G.'s ball tomorrow night? No? At the opera on Thursday, then. They sing the Hugue nots. I'll say good bye. If you only knew what it was to me to shake hands with you, and know that I have my own little footstool at your feet!"

He was gone. But his words and looks, with their perilous sweetness, their homage and humility, staid with her she drew from them much of the charm of love, and none of its sting. And this was what Mrs. Winthrop called "living on the surface."

Arthur Hamilton was a yo ing manthat is to say, a man of thirty-three, who had a fair income, good prospects and excellent abilities. He was also a man whose code was tbat of those about him had Puritanism prevailed in New York in his day, he would have made a very good average Puritan. As it was, his lot being cast in fashionable society of the year 187—, he made a very good average

rake—not

of the Lovelace or Sir Harry

Wildair's school—less dash and more moonshine about him. He had a heart which he played tricks with habitually maltreated, and he had a great love of excitement, and was an adept in talking sentiment to women. Mrs. Farquhar attracted him very strongly, and he had gone In to win from the first and every time he saw her he felt attached more strongly, and in consequence realized the necessity of playing cards well. For when the bandage is once off Cupid's eyes, no one is sharper sighted than lie and Hamilton was alive to all the difficulties of his position. He had long ago ceased to call things by their right names, and though not essentially a bad hearted fellow, yet he had no remorse in scheming how he should best get a foothold in Mrs. Farquhar's feelings, and he was, need we say it a self deceiver. Such men always are. The groatest charm about Mrs. Farquer to him was, though he did net admit It to himself, that although the was in no sense fencing, yet the did defend herself. Her simplicity and innocence of heart were weapons that turned the edge of his blade with many an unconscious parry.

For the noxt three or four weeks every thing lavored Arthur Hamilton's game, and at the end of thai time he hela ajx sition tow»rd Mrs. Farquhar very different from the one he had so humbly begged in tbe interview recorded, He still, indeed, held the language of a fiiend, a worshiper at a shrine, but it was the passport for many a word and look tbat were other than mere friends give, and Minnie had grown to consider him as much her property as if he were her lover, and she bis betrothed, and to feel accountable to him, as be always made her feel, for every smile she parted with to any other man. It was all very exciting. It was one of those unpro­

claimed

realities of life which we all

know something about outwardly he bad no part, or but a slight one. in her life in reality he was its central idea.

One

night she went to a party, expec­

ting, as so often before, that Hamilton would pass the evening by her side, and then takeher home. George was so often tired, and bagged off from a dress

coat, and,

jjad aphil»o-

no attempt at a rejointwo women pushed their

"She oould come home with

Mrs. Winthrop or Mrs. Ledyard." Several times little contretemps had arisen, and Hamilton bad watched his chance, and it bad turned out tbat be had taken her home Instead of either of the ladies mentioned. But on this evening, just as Hamilton joined her, with a wMaps red compliment on her looks tbat

night, she saw ber husband enter the room. Hamilton saw him too, and said luickly in an tindertone, "Shall 1 go? instinctively she replied, ,iu the .same tone of mutual understanding, "Yes, I think it would be better," snd then when she had g«ne she telt humiliated _____ tn 1 ipulse that ana she regretted It, for she felt it an ad

igry with herself. It had been an impulse that had made ber answer thus,

mission to nim that meant much. Then, too, George, after talking a little to people about the room, joined her, and said with a laugh: "Minnie, lam afraid Hike you better than anybody else can. Will it bore you to have me hanging about you? I thought I ought to show myself once witb you this winter, so I dressed and came for you."

How guilty she felt ss she looked into his open, sweet lace. Only a minute before she had been wishing him away. By and by Hamilton came back, and with several others, so tbat a little knot of men and women formed about where they sat, and then she began to feel inexpressibly irked and galled by her husband's presence. Had he not been there, she would have had it conveyed to her, in an indefinable way, perceptible only by ber, tbat Hamilton was hers and hers alone as it was, he seemed miles away no sympathetic influence radiated' from her. He seemed unconscious of ber presence. She knew tbat he could not make ber feel his nearness while George was there, and she felt as if it was an unbearable restraint placed upon her and Arthur. Every word he spoke to the oth»»r women, his very manner to them, made

her

wince with jealousy and when

she thought that they would part in the same wav—tbat he would say good night as politely acd coolly as he was talking that very minute without one word or look for her alone, she could have cried like a child. At last the hour grew late enough to excuse departure, and, plead ing a headache, Minnie withdrew. Ham ilton played his part to perfection, and she, poor child, went home, her heart aching with a sense of dread, and he scored one more point mentally in the game he was playing.

But his mistake was to come. He de termined to push his advantage, and this is wbat came to pass in consequence of his determination.

For three days after tbat evening Hamilton did not see Mrs. Farquhar except in an opera bcx, surrounded by men, and with ablaze of light upon her He hardly dared look at her then, nor she at him.

Her portrait was in course of being painted by Mr. Dobbs and at more than one of the sittings Hamilton had been present—a strictly proper proceeding from a conventional poiut of view, seeing that she never went thither unaccompanied by some other woman and tbere was no appearanoe of their meeting there being other than a purely acci dental one. He knew the days and hours for her sittings, and on the fourth morning after the ball started a little before the time for Mr. Dobb's studio feeling a hope that fortune might per baps, as she had more than once before favor him so far as to grant him a mo mentary exchange of glances and words with Minnie, unseen and unheard by others. He was feverishly excited and savagely impatient during the few days past in which he had been separated from Minnie. A change bad come over bis feeling toward her, and its tender sentiment seemed transformed into ruthless desire to possess, to make prey of her. He ran up the many steps to the studio door, and knocking lightly at it, opened it softly, thrust aside the heavy folds of drapery that overhung it, and stepped into the room unannounced confident of his welcome. The artist was not there. The room was empty save for one figure, which stood examining some sketches upon a table at the extreme end of tbe room. Its back was toward him, and he stood irresolute whether to retreat or go on. At the instant the figure raised its arm, and hall turned. He recognized Mrs. Farquhar. In a moment he had crossed the room noiselessly, and was at her side. He hardly needed the blush and 6tart of tremulous delight to assure him that she was more than glad to see him and yet he had a sense of eager, hungry joy in watching the changes of her face. He did

not

speak, but held her hand in hist

his eyes seeking hers with a question in them. She drew her hand slowly away from his and said "How did you happen to come here? I was wondering it you would remember that it was my day for a sitting." "Remember! When I have thought of nothing else for three days except tbat I might meet you here! But I nev dared to dream of the happiness of finding you alone." "That is an accident," she said, blush ing again at his words and more at their

^"And where is our friend Dobbs?" "1 don't know. I think I must have mistaken the hour." "Let me see," said Hamilton, going toward tbe door. "Yes, here it is, pinned againtt the wall. I was* so eager to enter I did not notice it when I came in •Back in half an. hour.' Your engage ment must be later." "I think I had better go down stairs then, and wait in the paint shop," she murmured. "Good heavens, no! Oh, why should you refuse me the happiness tbat kind fate has given me? Everything seems to have conspired in my favor and you— you will not be the only one to turn against me?"

His manner made Minnie feel very uneasy, and she had a consciousness tbat he was trying to break down the barri era between tbem, and tbat no one but a lover, and an acknowledged one, would sp»ak as he did. He saw her confusion, and calmed his msnner at once. The minutes were flying fast, and his blow must be struck now. "Just sit here and look over some of Dobb's sketches. I'll bring tbe table to the sofa," he said pleadingly. "I see you so seldom and you know how I love to sit at your feet and be taught about art."

I know but little more tban you do about pictures," said Mrs. Farquhar. laughing, and relieved by his compo sure "but I'll teach you all I know andsheseat9d herself on the sofa. He brought tbe table and placed the sketches on it, and she began to look them over and explain their points. For a miuute or two he listened with the old manner of respectful devotion and admiring intentness which he had always found so sweet. But presently, when she said, "Doyou see how perfeltly accurate that is?'rbe made no reply and when she turned her eyes from the pic ture she met his riveted upon her face with a burning intensity which tbere was no mistaking or sverting. She would have risen instinctively, but be caught ber bands and pressed her down into her seat. "Don't go," be said, kneeling beside ber, close to her—'"no» till I have told you how I love you. Why should you refuse to bear me? You have known it long sinoe. and when will I have a chance like this again? We alone now. Let us be bappy while may."

are we

She was too much frightened to speak and be, interpreting her silence as he craved to do, and being determined te gain a foothold with ber that day,

played a bold eard. He clasped her In nis arms and bad kissed her on the lips before she could stir or ttruggle. it was an eager,, fierce, o'ermasterisg caress, snd he forgot her—thought only, "I have ber now she cannot escape me." But when he relaxed his clasp she did not rise—only dropped her face into her hands with a deep sob of pain. Then he knew tbat he had played and lost. If be had for a moment forgotten her, she had now equally forgotten him. He rose to his feet she aid not speak or move. "Minnie," he said, "forgive me dar ling," and would have put his hand on he.r. Then she looked up and spoke, w.'th an evident effort, but clearly and wHh calmness: "Wliiyou go before Mr. Dobbs comes? I would rather he did not find you here." "Yes, yes but say that you forgive me," be murmured. "What can it matter for me to say thst? I have no right not to forgive you.

It must have been my fault that—that— you took me—for that sort of a woman and I have no right to blame you only if you please I would like never to see you again. Aud—oh, go, do go. I forgive you, but I never want to see you again—you have made me despise my self."

She buried her face in her hands again. He waited a moment more, but she did not speiak again, and he turned ou his heel and went as quietly as possible. When she lifted hei eyes again she was alone.

Before Mr. Dobbs came in, Mrs. Farquhar was perfectly, herself. All the while he painted she sat thinking—oh, such bitter, distracting thoughts! But before tbe sitting was over she had thought it eut for herself, She bad been very wrong, and Margaret was right she must bear this sickening sense of self-oontempt because it was her just earnii g, and she would not make poor George suffer by telling him. He should not be humiliated and hurt but she bad bad her lesson, and she would profit by it. That night she wrote a simple, straightforward letter to Margaret, telling her what had happened,and ending with, "You were right, and I was wrong. I shall bear my punishment alone. I tttink it has taught me so much—what you most cared for me to learn. I confess it all to you—for to you I may do so—without selfishness. I cou'd not ask George to suffer where he his deserved nothing of pain."

Tbere was very little outward difference in Mrs. Farquhar's life after that but in her there was a difference indescribable but real—a serenity in her manner, an indifference to frivolous amusement, an earnestness that contrasted to a keen close observer with the avidity for amusement and clamorous vanity of the woman about her in sociefcv

It was some time before Arthur Hamilton lost the sense of humiliation and shame with which he had quitted Minnie Farquhar's presence. She had not only rejected him, but she had rebuked him, and he could not forget the remembrance of her bowed head. It was more eloquent than words, and he wished again and again tbat he had not "gone so far." But he did not think deeply or feel deeply about it. He avoided her so na at ciety, anc the close of year be had ceased to think of her at all, and even when they met she did not strongly suggest the past.

Two years alter this time one summer evening found Hamilton on top of a stage being driven over the picturesque ridge of hills at the top of which is situated the house.

In some respects he was a changed man. A longing had vaguely pos sessed him of late for a home of his ewn He craved a companion—some one "whose eye would brighten at his coming," and he had ceased to approach women witb the mere idea of gaining a passing excitement or amusement from intercourse with them. In truth he was "looking for a wife." When on the sec ond evening of his stay at he was introduced

to

a tall, slender, noble lookinj

eirl by the name of Miss Evans, he di not recall her as Minnie Farquhar's lriend. She bad left New York at the very outset of his intimacy with Mrs. Farquhar, and they had never met or beard each other's names even. But it was not more than a week before Hamilton knew himself to be in love—not more than a week before Margaret felt that his society and attentions were passing sweet to her, and wondered what would come of it all. There was no faltering or hesitation about him he was in love, and knew it, and from the first desired to make her his wife. His attitude toward ber was very different from the one he would formerly have assumed toward a woman. It was unfeigned ly reverential and humble, and his past ways of feeling and thinking seemed to slough

off

him like a snake

skin in tbe sunlight of her smile. But the end wss not yet. There is some* times a working out of justice on earth that puzzles those of us who believe that accounts cannot be settled here and so it was witb Arthur Hamilton.

One morning, after they had spent about two weeks together, Hamilton came down stairs to breakfast with

a

sense of hope and courage in his heart. He bad said to himself that morning. "To-day I will ask her to marry me," and tbe resolve once formed, he felt buoyant and bold. She liked him--he was sure of tbat—and he felt bis chancc was eood. He came up to ber on tbe piazza after breakfast, and asked her to walk with him tbat afternoon. It was an ordinary request, but as she granted it ber eyes fell beneath bis she felt his meaning, though it was unspoken, and for a moment a shade of embarrassment was in her msnner Presently she said," If

gou

are going to tbe village, Mr. Ham ton, will you mail a letter for me, and ask for mine at the postoffice "Willingly," he said, and took the letter irem ber hand. His eyes fell upon the address almost unconsciously, and be read it. He felt tbe blood mount into bis cheeks as he did so, for it was addressed, in Margaret's clear, firm band, to "Mrs. George Farquhar." H6 lifted his eyes and met hers. She laughed and said, "you are blushing because I caught you In tbe act of reading tbe address of my letter. Never mind will forgive you." "Indeed my doing so was purely accidental," he said earnestly. "Are yon sure of that are you sure masculine cariosity as to the contents of tbat thick packet did not have somewhat to do with it?" "Quite sure," he ssid, still graveiy, unaltered by her jesting manner. "Well, since you say so

so

seriously,

must not suspect you but if there were such a thing as magnetism of touch, you might have detected yourself in tbst letter." "What do you mean "Only that I gave my friend Mrs. Farquhar a description of the people in the bouse, and you, of course, played apart among them." "Did you tell her my name "Naturally—yes. How do you suppose I could designate you—as the gentleman with the brown mustache, or the gentleman who clambers over the rocks with me?" and she laughed again. His face grew graver still, and he said abruptly—

*,-

f*

"I shall see yon this afternoon. Miss Evans. Good-bye till then." TMO be turned away. "Could he have disliked nay teasing him about reading the address No: iro impossible," said Margate to. henelf. "Perhaps he is absorbed in some serious thought, and my jesting jarred himand at the thought of what the subject of his serious ponderings might be, she in her turn blushed a vivid blush.

Meanwhile Hamilton walked along to the postoffice in a very different frame of mind from bis jubilant one of the morning. He was perplexed and gloomy, and yet, after all," he said to himself, "what does it matter that she and Minnie are friends Women don't often tell their love affairs to other women, intimate or not, and I can easily wean her from the intimacy after we are married. There will be a sort of awkwardness when Minnie and I first meet but when she sees that I mean to ignore the pact, she'll be deuced glad to follow my lead. 1 Was a fool to feel so upset about it. Somehow it shamed me to stand before Margaret when I remembered that miserable affair. I Wonder what she would think of It? I will sound her on the subject generally tonight, and some day^after are married, and when she loves me enough, I'll confess all my sins and ask for forgiveness." He went on bis way with this conclusion, and mailed the letter with a lighter heart.

The afternoon saw them start on their walk. A handsome cor.pie they made, thought those who watched them go he, tall, athletic, with a email, well shaped head, covered with a forest of brown curls bending toward bert with an expression of .deference and devotion which made the lookers-on nudge one another significantly, and whisper, "He's pretty far gone, isn't he?" she, stately and slender, with her usually haughty head bowed a little as she listened to him. So they started out. Arthur looked at her, and his heart leaped as he thought, "We will come home, promised to one another." But there's many a slip 'twist cup and lip. He had decided to find out adroitly how close the intimacy was existing betwocn Minnie and Margaret, first oi all so he be-

^"You must be very intimate with Mrs. Farquhar?" "She is my very dearest ana oldest friend." „r -:.,n "Is she aNew Yorker?" "N it by birth. We were brought up together in the country." A moment's silence, and then: "Do you tell her everything?" "I hardly know what you would mean bv everything. I would trust her with anything, but when a feeling lies near my heart I am but little apt to speak of it to any one. It is very different though with her. She always pours out her heart to me. Our natures are so entirely different, and I sometimes fancy that is why we care so much for one another." "How does her husband like he* telling you everything?" "George? Oh. he knows we have been intimate from childhood, and he is too sure of his place with her tor foolish, petty jealousy. But it cannot interest you, Mr. Hamilton, to hear about people whom you never saw. Lot's change the subject." "But it does interest me very much. Anything that concerned you always would." And then abruptly, "Tell me Miss Evans, do you think it a great crime in a man to pay attentions to a married woman?" "Do you mean, to try to make her give to him that which belongs to her husband?"

Margaret's voice had a ring in it as she said these words, which Hamilton had never before heard. "Well, yes, in one way. I suppose I do mean that but—not—not "Not materially or grossly, you would say. Mr. Hamilton, you aro shocked at my plain words but after all words are merely the clething of an idea, and the idea is the same with both of us. I speak strongly because I feel strongly about this subject. Do you real think that all a man prizes in his wire is literal fidelity—that ae does not care for the smile or blush, or glance which another man gets from her?" "Well, I don't think most men think much about it." "That's because thoy trust their wives and their friends. Bat take yourself. Were you married would you be willing to let another man pay your wife what you term 'attentions,' and receive an equivalent from her?" "No but don't you think it's for eveiy one to take care of themselves in this world?" "You mean a woman must protect herself?" said Margaret musingly. "YOB, that is what I mean and you surely do not think it criminal, as I said before, for a man to amuse himself by devoting himself to a married woman, if she chooses to permit it? said Arthur, emboldened by her besita-

"i'think it the most unworthy thing a man can do," said Margaret, flashing her eyes upon him. Then quiok as liuhtning caine the intuition that made her say almost sternly, "Tell me, Mr. Hamilton, did you ever know Mis. Fai'quhar?" ..

He could not evade or deny it—no, not even if be would. She stood oyer him. stern and terrible, like the angel of

"Yes, I have kupwnber," be said." "How well do you know her? Did you pretend to love ber? Did you try to beguile her?" "I did love her," said Arthur, trying to collect himself. "Nay, listen to me, Margaret—for God's sake, listen this once. I have aright to be heard. Don condemn me before you hear what I have to say. Remember, I have everything at stake." febe was silent at bis appeal, and signed to him to go on. He went on hurriedly nnd vehemently. "Idid care for Mrs. tarqubar. I was very much attracted by her, and I thought she was quite able to take care of herself. All tbe women I had ever known were,

an(J

I never meant any

barm and I have been very sorry ever since that day when I realized that she was not like many women and I have never cc&nod to be flsbsfflBd of tb© part I played—and I must speak it all now. To-day, Margaret. I meant to'.ask you to be my wife, and if you bad loved me, I would have told you *11—I would, indeed—and asked your pardon, as I do now." "It is not against me that you have sinned," she said coldly, "nor do I suppose that my poor Minnie is the omy woman whose life yon

have

stained witb

remorse, and perhaps her'* is not tbe deepest stain. You flush at that! Then my shot bit the mark? Let me tell you now that 1 could never love the roan who planted that thorn in her heart. I have hated tbe image of you in my mind ever since she wrote me of wbat had happened between you and her and you can never be anything to me but the original of that image. No, I am hot for such as you. The woman you marry. Mr. Hamilton, should b© one to avenge the wrongs of her sex upon you by making of your home what [Continued on Third rage.]