Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 13, Number 41, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 7 April 1883 — Page 6

THE MAIL

A PAPER FOR THE PEOPLE.

IRMA DOWEL

OK THB if if Jp

Wronged Wife's Vow.

Not to-night. Please say nothing to her at present. "Will you see Virginia? "No. I must be off at once. I leave explanations to you, my dear sir."

The two men walked to the door. Mr. Orenfells entered the house, while his companion turned down the steps and hastened away.

The old countryman was nowhere to be seen: "G'urseson the luck," muttered Barnwell, as he walked hurriedly down the street. "I thought I hid my tracks completely. How in the name of wonder did that forest girl find out my whereabouts? What a fool I was to bind myself to that chit of a girl. I must have money soon. My property is all under mortgage. Mother hasn't made the least Impression on old Gren fells yet. I must secure Virginia and crush all opposition, come what will."

No. 10 Branch street was an out-of-the-way place down in the worst part of the city near the docks.

Barnwell examined the revolver he always carried, noting thatever chamber was loaded.

He had some fears of foul play, but his safety depended on going at once to the placo appointed in the note.

A faint light glimmered through a ltg--narrow window at No. 10 Branch street, The building was a low, one-story hovel, everything aingy and ill-kept about the place.

Barnwell rapped lightly on the door. It was opened by an old man clad almost in rags. "Ah, a gentleman too see Mr. Jones," muttered the man. "This way, sir."

He led the way into a back room, turned about and retreated, closing the door after hi in.

A dim light was burning on a low atand. A tall form rose to meet the visitor. "Ralph Gerard!" "Noel Nelworne!"

For fully two minutes the men stood g»

7.1tig

into each other's eyes without

another word. There was a stern, relentless look on the face of Irma's cousin, a white shrinking dread on that of the treacherous Barnwell. "At last we meet again," said Gerard,

Barnwell forced a smile to his lips. "Verv happy to meet you," he said, extending his white, silky hand. «'Viper!" exclaimed Gerard. "You are mighty complimentary, young man." "What oxcuso can you give for your oonduct, Angus Barnwell?,, "I flatter myself that my conduct is above reproach," sneered the profligate, in a bully tone. "Base scoundrel!

meet

Slef,

this the way you

the friend of the girl you have wronged?

Angus

Barnwell, your bul

lying assurance will not avail you with me. Iam Irma Dowel's friend, and, if need be, her avenger. I have tracked you to your lair. I know how basely you have acted how you under the assumed name of Nelworne, won the love of a trusting, guileless heart for your own amusement. Deserting the poor

ri yon basely deceived, you flee, like a In the night,and cover your tracks with a letter containing as many falsehoods as words. You did not deceive me. To-night you were about to wed one ofiho fashionable daughters of this city. You know the neualty for such a crime, Angus Barnwell."

I do," returned the nrofligate, ooolly. "You thought vour numble girl-wire would never flntC you here. Did you imagine she had no friends?"

Perhaps. What do yon propose do-

"What do I propose doing biting off the words sharply. "What do you propose doing, Angus Barnwell "Nothing." "Nothing! BvJovel you shall do something. You dare not commit bigamy bv taking another wife. Yon must aoknowled Irma before the world as your

"TTsat I will never do." "Becareful, Angus Barnwell, lama dangerous man now. The honor of my cousin is very dear to me. Refuse to render justice

far as you can, and the

law shall take its course. "Thelaw," with a sneer. "Bah, young man! Did you think I was fool enough to run my head into danger thin foolishly? Men in my poaitkm must little amusement. I had mine with that rflly cousin of yours. She may "TT*1' forget me at once. She is not my wife. "Not your wife P»

The villain laughed *rimly. "That's it, exactly," he said. "I humbugged the little simpleton, that's all. Thaw was no towfui cwwnony performed. Now what are r« going to do •boat it, my boyf

As the words were uttered in tag, defiant tone by the beartleas nme, Gerard ib? tee of Ralph Gwd wm growing white as death, hb whole form swelled almost to bo rating.

As the last syllable fell from Barn

4,:

•!mM

." I hJS. t, I-'.""

HOBBI8 BKBWNW.

well's lipe, Gerard sprang upon his prey, clutching the

(-,

Author of "Blind Nell," "Beggar Prince,n "Joeiia,"

u9Uver

Dagger,"

JSJ£C,

[Commenced In The Mail, March 81. Bock numbers sent to any address for five cents a copy, or subscriptions may commence from that date.]

CHAPTER IV. WAS IT MURDER

"Good Heaven! what is the matter, Angus cried old Mr. Grenfells, as he sprang to the tide of his expected son-in-Jaw.

Barnwell crumpled the note and thrust it into bis pocket. His face was pale and agitated "A telegram,'* he said, in a shaking •oiee. "Bad news, Angus?" "Yes. Uncle Willus is dead." "Bad news indeed*" returned Mr. Grenfells. "I never knew that yon had an Uncle Willis, Angus. Where does he live f" "In Kansas," returned the young villain, coolly. "I am sorry, Mr. Grenfells, but this marriage must be postponed. You will explain to Virginia. "Is this necessary, Angus? The guests are all assembled, and "It can't be helped," interrupted the profligate. "My uncle was a very dear friend. Out of respect to his memory I must put off the marriage. I shall to Kansas at once. In the course o_ few weeks I will be ready to take Virginia. Is this satisfactory "Certainly. It speaks well for your kindness of heart, Angus. You will break the news to your mother?

like a tiger

uiwuuib .ue profligate fiercely by the throat, rushing him back against the wall. "You shall die for this!" hissed the outb, as he clutched the throat of the villain before him, crushing back the breath, almost cracking the Donee. "Ay, you shall die like the hound you are. frma'sidishonor shall be wiped out in the blood of her deceiver!"

Barnwell struggled desperately. Hi* hand lntched his revolver, and

wiry antagonist. Gerard saw his danger. As the villain drew the hammer, Ralph grasped the weapon with his free hand and wrenched it from Barnwell's grasp, turning the muzzle upon his foe. "Mercy, mer-mer-cy!" gasped the profligate. "Mercy, hound!" hissed Gerard. "There's no mercy in my heart for such as you. Unsay your words of a minute ago. or you area dead man

Gerard released his hold on the throat of his antagonist and allowed him to breathe on^e more, at the same time keeping the revolver leveled. •'Great Heaven, Gerard! would you murder me gasped the cowed and terrified wretch. "No. To shed your blood would be no more murder tnan the shooting of a labid dog. If your words were true a minute ago, if Irma Dowel is not your wife, then your doom is sealed," return ed Gerard, sternly. "Irma is my wife. I hoped to be rid of you by a falsehood." "I believe you now. You see you have failed. You will now go to your wife, and on your bended knees, ask her forgiveness." "I can not do that." "Will you go to Irma Will you acknowledge her before the world? "Yes, only give me time." "How much time do you want?" "A month." "Why this delay?" cried Gerard. "You area base scoundrel, Angus Barnwell. You are not fit to mate with my cousin yet, for the sake of her good name, you must take her to your home as your wife."

The villain, quailing and cowering under the stern mien and leveled revolver, promised everything demanded by the youth, who, for that time, was master of the situation. "You are at liberty to go now," said Gerard, "only remember that you will render justice to Irma or feel the hand of her avenger."

Gerard turned on his heel to depart. Barnwell sprang forward and grasped his arm.

"Stay a minute," cried the profligate. "Well, speak quickly." "Does Irma suspect "Your villainy No." "Then let her remain in ignorance. Poor girl! I have wronged her but I needea money. I will try to make amends in the future."

Gerard glanced sharply into the face of the speaker. Was he dissimilating, or was he speaking truly The youth had his doubts. He resolved to De on his guard and watch the every movement of the desperate rascal closely.

The two men separated. Gerard gave the man who owned the place a dollar for the use of his room, and then passed out into the night.

That evening Gerard penned a short letter to his Cousin Irma, telling her what he had discovered and the promise he had exacted from her truant husband.

After this he lay down to sleep. It was late the next morning when he rose from his couch. He went to the postoflice and deposited the letter, and walked back to his bearding-house.

What next to do the youth hardly knew. He concluded to doff his disguise for the present and seek lodging in a better portion of the city. He kept his countryman's suit at hand, however, as he might need it again some time.

Two days passed and Gerard saw nothing more of Barnwell. He learned where the young mau lived, and found rooms for himself near at hand. Although passing the imposing residence several times aaily, Gerard saw nothing of Barnwell. He began to think the man had repented and gone back to bis wife.

In the course of a week he might expect a letter from Irma. Till then he resolved to watch and wait. ,,

One evening Gerard found himself strolling down in the vicinity of the docks. It was a dark, moonless night, but an occasional light flashed over the water from a passing steamer.

A deep gloom haa settled over the young man, which nothing could dispel. He was thinking of the fair, trustful cousin who had been so bitterly deceived by the brute Barnwell, and almost repented sparing the villain's life.

Leaning against a post, Gerard peered out over tne dark waters of the river, absorbed in his own bitter thoughts.

Suddenly a form rose almost at his side. Gerard turned there was agleam of bright steel, a sickening thud, a short struggle, a gasping cry, followed by a splash in the river.

A moment later all was silent again. The waters of the river moved on as before.

What had happened Was it murder

CHAPTER V.

THB WRONGKD WIFK'8 VOW. "Oh, uncle, a letter forme The voice was low and tremulous that spoke the words.

Irma Dowel stood in the doorway of the squatter's cabin, as her uncle came up, having just returned from the station. "A letter for you, my child," returned the old man, slowly, as he drew the yellow missive from his pocket and placed it in the outstretched palm of his niece.

Irma had changed wonderfully during the past month. The rich, olive tint has faded out of her face. There were dark circles about her eyes, and a hard, drawn expression about tne mouth. Irma had suffered, suffered terribly, under the blighting influence of her husband's long absence and utter silence.

Irma possessed a stronger nature than most girls of her years. The suspense of waiting in dread anxiety ww wearing her life away The truth fully established of her husband's wickedness could not have been so bad.

Irma clasped the letter tightly and walked to her room. Seating herself by the window, she tore offthe tents:

•D*AR

envelope and lead tbecon-

Oorsnf IRXA:

Have

OOOISM

to bear up under the new* I

have to write. Tour bwbaad to aUthat I mapected. all that te base «£d evil. H-fctroe name ts Angus BarnwelL He ljves wtth hls widowed mother in a fine boose In this city.

..- AAA

I OK uua law fiiwmj. "T* view with htm. At On* be was Insolent and defiant. I cooled him of! and brought him to terms. He bas proosJaed to reader JoOei toyoaand yotua. I shall remain here for a Ume Ibr porpoeeof watchli* bto movwowts. Heaven oeyoor eomfortsr la this boor of a#» fllettoD, aur dear eoosla.

TROON

to coin land, BAWL"

Not a tear dimmed the eyes of the wronged wife sk she read the lines confirming her worst fears. The hard look about the mouth grew more intense, the

at, luminous eyes took in a red glow the first glare from a slumbsrin{ volcano. "Deserted! Ruined!"

These two words fell from the fevensh lips of Irma. Then she rose to her feet and passed

her hand. "Whatis it, Irma?" "You may read the letter."

Her uncle's face grew black der-cloud as he read. "Theingrate! The base villain!"

Hush/aear uncle," murmured a thin, soft hand on her uncle's ier. "Use no harsh expressions now. Itis too late to do good." "And you, my poor Irma?" cried

[ear

laying should*

Even Hiram Dowel did not understand his niece." "Perhaps," he said, "now that your husband's villainy has boen discovered, he will, through rear of punishment, return to you my precious child." "Return to me!" she repeated, under her breath. "That may be, but I will never live with Angus Barnwell. I married Noel Nelworne. That personage has departed forever. I know not this man as Angus Barnwell. Though he

came

to me on bended knee and asked me to forgive, begged me to share his home, I would spurn him with contempt." "But you are his wife, Irma." "Yes, the wife of Noel Nelworne as such he shall acknowledge me before the world, then "Well ?"as the forest girl paused suddenly.

Irma's bosom heaved, her eyes growing red with rising passion. "Then we separate, never more to

"You will seek a divorce?" "No. A divorced wife I can not be. Until death separates us, Noel Nelworne shall remain my husband." "He may seek relief through the courts, as he will doubtless wish to maiTv "Bfe dare not," cried Irma, with the red flame leaping more fiercely in her eyes. "My husband has deceived and ruined me it shall be my future study to render him miserable. 1 shall prove a thorn in his side, a continual menace to his happiness. As once I loved Noel Nelworne, now I hate Angus Barnwell. Simple, trusting, a mere cnild in worldly affairs, I was made a dupe, the plaything of a desighing villain. I live now for revenge." "Irma!" cried Hiram Dowel, taking the hand of his niece, "you are beside yourself now. You are a weak girl. Vengeance is not for you. I will seek this man and compel nim to render justice to you, or visit a just retribution on his head."

A bitter smile swept the pale face of Irma. "No one shall take my place, no one shall harm Angns-Barnwell, no one but the girl he has wronged," she said hotiy.

Mrs. Dowelenterea the room just then. She saw the letter in her brother's hand, and was, of course, anxious to learn its contents.

Hiram turned to his niece with an inquiring look. "Yes, she may read the letter," said Irma, in answer to that look from her uncle.

Then the wronged wife turned and fled from the house out into the shadow of the wood.

brook

ever*

Irma raised her face toward heaven, her hands clasped, a fierce, relentless look on her face. "Hear me and record my vow,"she murmured, faintly. "Let the winds spread it to the remotest regions. From this hour I devote my life, my strength, my all to the glorious task Revenge! How sweet the word, how soothing to mv troubled spirit. As Angus Barnwell iis* miserable, so am I happy. I will never give over my revenge until the sods ofthe grave close over the treacherous heart of that man. Then am I ready to lay down mv life, not before. Heaven help me and pity you, Angus Barnwell, for your life shall hereafter be a pathway of thorns, and you will ever rue the day you deceived and trod upon the affections ofa poor forest girl."

Her bead dropped upon her breast, the thin bands unclasped, and Irma Dowel stood silently under the archway of trees.

Slowly and silently the wronged wife walked hack to the bouse. Her mother, pale and agitated, met her at the door. "Dear Irma, my poor child!" marmuted the woman sadly, her aged eyes moist with unshed tears. "Hush, mother! Not a word. Don't waste any pity on me," cried Irma, fiercely. "Yon warned me against this man. I alone am to blame." "No, no, Irma /k "Doot question me, mother, dona pity me leave me to myself. Don't think lamoaat down. I am happy. I fori better than I ever did before. I am strong. 1 shall fight my way without help.*

TIM tones wars shert and tinged with bitterness. Yoo are atitwigar than Iaxpected to find yoa,

TERBE TT A UTE SATURDAY EYMli3- MA TL.

"Of course. I'm not one of the fainting kind." "I can understand your feelings, Irma." said Mrs. Dowel slowly. "I once had an experience almost as terri*

a slumbering ble. It runs in our family, I believe. I know what it is to be a deserted wife, to suffer the things of outraged, of unrequited affection.

Then snerose ner wiu —i out to her uncle with the open letter in Will you not tell me the story of the past? It may help me in my present trouble."

"And you, my poor irma?" criea my veins!" cried Irma, fiercely, a wild Hiram Dowel, turning to his niece, a glow shooting from her midnight eyes, pitying light In bis eyes. "Must I see Hush, Irma!

you dying by inches under the stroke of this man's villainy?"

A strange, weird smile flickered over the face of the deserted wife. "Don't imagine that I am going to die, Uncle Hiram," she, with compressed lips. "The Dowels are made of sterner stuff."

The old man gazed fixedly into the face of the girl before him. How calm she seemed under this terrible news. He wondered at her quiet reception cf it all.

Irma looked up with a suden interest. "You speak of my father," she orted.

A spasm of pain swept the pale face of

iw black as a thun- Mrs. Dowel. "Not to-day, Irma. I can not I am w—w too weak for the ordeal but some day

uncle,"murmured Irma, you shall know of your father." a it el In I might learn to hate his memory, to hate myself and the blood that curses in

The young wife brushed past her mother and entered her own low-ceiled chamber.

Locking the door, she proceeded hastily to gather a few necessary articles of wearing apparel and packed them in an oil-cloth valise.

Dropping beside the little stand, she drew rorth writing materials and hastily wrote: "To-night I leave home on a mission of duty. Do not seek me, for I will not return until justice and revenge clasp bands over the grave of Angus Barnwell."

This epistle she folded and thrust between the covers of a book lying before her, leaving one end projecting that it might easily De discovered.

Irma then opened her purse, and found forty dollars that her husband had left on the night of his departure. "This will help me to hunt you down, Angus Barnwell," muttered Irma, bitterly. "Your money shall help me to compass your ruin."

Just then

wood. Bike shuffled to the door and passed Down by the bank of t^e babbling

-r- where six weeks

asps

bright object caught her

eye on the floor. She stooped and gathered it in her hand.

It was a diamond ring, the one her false husband bad placea on her finger on her wedding day.

Irma thrust it on her finger with a bitter smile. "It seems loose," she muttered. "I have grown thin of late, indeed. I had forgotten this ring, and can't imagine how it came there on the floor. I will wear it, nevertheless, as a reminder of the one happy epoch of my miserable life."

On the following morning, Irma failed to appear at the oreakfast-table. Mrs. Dowel went to call her and found the room empty. *2

Her eye caught sight of the note. A cry of pain escaped her lips as she read the lines penned by her daughter. She hastened with the note to Hiram. "Foolishgirl!" exclaimed that worthy. "I shall go after her at onoe."

The eyes of Mrs. Dowel thanked him for this assurance, and the breakfast was eaten in silence.

tfae room

she made her way, and stood once i—* vi.»i«i« more on the very spot

before^7hT handsome, fascinating city umure,

IUV

gentleman had spokenjuch

sionate words in the ear of this trusting

new? How.mold you cr.sb the milk of onger, unl^ bis pa«' human kindness from my heart forever and give my life over to gall and bitter ness?"

Suddenly her form ceased its swaying She brushed the tears from her eyes and sprang to her feet. "No more tears, weak, unwomanly tears," she cried, fiercely, her lips quivering, her even teeth shut hardf the wild, angry, glinting in her black eyes. "1 have shed the last tear. The past is dead. Mv girlhood is gone, ana now, now I live only to scourge the guilty soul of Angus Barnwell, to give unto his lips to drink to the bitter dregs the cup that he forced mine to quaff."

CHAPTER VI.

WHERE IS THE BRIDE

"You are sure the job was well done, udge Bike I want no mistake about it. I can't afford to pay out a large sum of money for nothing." "It was done as neat's a pin, Gus. I sent the feller ter Davy Jones as silent's a clam. You won't be troubled with that young cove again, bet yer boots." "Very well. Remember, if you have deceived me it will cost you dear.". "I'll swear to that, Gus."

The tall, "richly-dressed gentleman drew forth a plethoric wallet and opened it. From a mass of bank notes he counted out five hundred dollars and laid them in the horny palm of the hard visaged man before him. "Here's your pay, Bike. Remember, anything you do for me shall be well rewarded." "You're liberal, Cap, and Jude Bike's alius at your service," grunted the man, as he folded the bills and thrust them under his greasy jacket.

"Free, free at last to make Virginia my wife," exclaimed Angus Barnwell, as he rose to his feet and drew along "I think ok

he rose to his ieet ai

breath

of evident relief

Grenfel]s weicome

Gren fells welcome me back, and as for Virginia, she's secure, since she loves me too well to be exacting.

child of the woods. Oh, how the memory of those past happy weeks thrilled her to the heart. A sad, woeful memory m^'Vhut out into the night, and slowof earthly bliss, now rudely blasted for-

Kneelincr down on the leaf-strewn ground, Irma bowed her face upon her hisdog Jowler being theonly occupants lands and wept bitter, scalding tears,

bands ana wept uiu«r, auaiuiug the first she had shed since her husband had deserted her a month ago. "Oh, Noel, Noel!" moaned the young girl, her slight form swaying from side to side, "how could you do this wicked to side, nowcouia you uo

Barnwell strode from the low, fisher

threade(j his way

back to the city.

Jude Bike owned the cabiq, he and

tv%a no

WJ» WIU*OU-

so the little transaction between these two had no witnesses. Jude bad gone to look aftsr his nets, after receiving the reward for a dark deed, while Barnwell soqght once more his aristocratic home, which would remain his but a short time

through other than legitimate means. It was past midnight wben Barnwell reached home.

He found his* mother sitting up awaiting his coming. "How much longer must we wait for the fulfillment of our plans, AngUB?" questioned the mother, as her son entered her presence. "Only another day, mother mine," he returned, with a laugh. "The coast is clear now. I am free to make Virginia my wife to-morrow, if I choose." "That is good news." "Yes. Of course I must still lead old Gren fells to believe that my Uncle Willis is a reality. Did be speak to you about that gentleman?" "Not a word." "I warned him not to. You might have let the cat out of the bag. You see I was so surprised at turn events bad taken, I was obliged to invent a plausible story on short notice.' "Certainly. You are sharp, Angus. You would not be your mothers son if you were not. You haven't told me what the trouble was yet," said Mrs. Barnwell questioningly. "No," be replied, nervously. "It was a girl scrape that I thought effectually disnosed

imethlng connected with your absence last spnng "Yes. Don't ask any more questions, please the subject is a disagreeable one mother," returned Angus nervously. "Very well only, after you are eafelv married to Virginia and ber father's dollars, you must lead a different life. "You would have me reform T" "Indeed I would, Angus," said his mother, soberly. "Your many scrapes have given me much uneasiness of late. "WOL don't trouble yourself any longer. I'll turn out the greatest reformer, the roost proper of husbands you erer saw, after Virginia is my wife," said Barnwell, laughing.

After his supposed absence of a week, Angus Barnwell put in an appearance at tne home of his betrothed.

Now Ralph Gerard was effectually removed from his path, the profligate felt more at his ease.

His conscience troubled him somewhat bat the fortune that awaited him on bis wadding-day was a salve for all qualms of that nature, and Barnwell hurried forward th^^epsfattona for the wed-

wots

girl-wife he bad left behind him in the wilderness haunted him, but he could not afford to dwell too deeply on that foul wrong.

Mr. Orenfells greeted him warmly, and questioned him regarding his delasea uncle. "Poor Uncle Willis," said Barnwell, with a sad intonation. "He died very suddenly, and what was surprising to me, he died rich, and left all his possessions to me, his unworthy nephew." "Indeed, then you sre lucky even in your sorrow," returned Grenfells. "Yes. I shall never forget my poor uncle," with a sigh.

Virginia appeared pleased to meet her affianced. She put up her lips for a kiss as he entered her presence, and clung confidingly to his arm. returned the caress and led her to a seat on the sola. "There's nothing in the way of consumating our happiness now, my precious Virginia," ne said, with aglow of love in his cruel eyes. "I am rich. My uncle left me a large property in KftDSBIt" "As if that made any difference, Angus." "Not with your love, darling, but it's a mighty handy thing, after all."

Virginia imagined herself truly happy as she sat beside the tall, handsome man, her promised husband, into whose inner life she had never been permitted to look.

Had this pure, proud beauty known of the black lines running through the lite of Angus Barnwell, she would have shrunk from him as from a leper but she did not know, and walked forward unsuspectingly to her doom.

Another wedding-day dawned over the life of Virginia Grenflls. The guests passed through the open portals of the grand ola mansions, dubbed "Sprin^wood" by its proprietor.

Obsequious servants waited upon the

gousekeeper,

uests, and Margaret Burns the old acted the part of hostess. She was a precise, stately woman of middle age, and had been in the family since Warren Grenfells lost his wife, over thirteen years before.

Warren Grenfells was a grave, quiet man, and hardly a smile had crossed his face in years. Mourning for his wife, who passed from his life long years ago, some said. Others believed him a cold, heartless, money-getting man of the world, with no affectionate warmth in his nature.

The parlors were thronged with visitor8* A fashionable wedding in high life was an event in the staid old French city, and no invited guests remained away.

Laura Barnwell, the mother of the bridegroom, outshone all others in the elegance of her attire and beauty of form and face.

She was past forty, yet well preserved, and understood well the way to bring art to contribute toward softening and beautifying all defects sf nature.

It is not our province here to describe the wedding ceremony, nor all the bonmots exchanged across the festive board.

Immediately after the wedding-sup-

Singthe

er, bride, blushing under the nod-orange-blossoms, looking an angel of purity In her white veil and bridalrobes, retirod to the chamber set apart for her use.

The ladies retired from the table, leaving the gentlemen over their wine, and none among that throng drained his glass oftener than did Angus Barnwell, the happy Bridegroom.

Toast after toast was drunk. The guests grew hilarious, and Angus Barnwell the loudest of them all.

The face of Warren Grenfells grew more serious than its wont. He saw that Barnwell was drinking more than was for his good.

The old man was about to approach bis son-in-law and whisper a remonstrance, when a soft, jeweled hand touchea his arm.

He turned to meet the smiling countenance of the Widow Barnwell. "Are you very busy, Mr. Grenfells?' "Not wben a lady desires my services," said the old man, gallantly.

The two walked from the room out upon the veranda. The soft, summer air had a soothing effect upon the unquiet nerves of the old man. .. "What a beautiful night," said the widow. "A fit night for the consummation of lovers' vows. How pleased I am that I shall have Virginia with me in my lonely home hereafter." "And my home will be doubly lonely in consequence," saliJ the old man, sadly. "Indeed, I hope not. You can come to see us often. Better so than that your child had wed some foreign count or distant resident of our own country. It can hardly seem like taking her from her childhoods home,"lisped the charming widow, softly. "I shall

miss

'tm

&**

*. «$ V*•«•*

my Virginia, though. No

one can ever come to fill ber place." "You are very gloomy to-night, Warren. You will need some one to take the place of Virginia I admit, some one to fill, the long vacant place in your heart and home." "That can never be, Mrs. Barnwell." "Never "Never." "You are still brooding over the past, Warren," said the wlpow, sadly. "Can you never forget that wicked, graceless woman who darkened your borne long a a

A spasm of pain crossed the face of Grenfells at ber words. "Hush, Laura Barnwell! I will not hear the memory of my wile traduced," be cried, hoarsely. "Your wife! Have you forgotten that Matilda Gresbam long since ceased to bold that relation to you Your memory is failing you, Warren." "No it is all too powerful. True, the law has thrust a barrier between us but I am sometimes in doubt about poor Matilda's guilt." "Time has softened your resentment, Warren." "No, but I "Where is Virginia?"

Aloud voice struck gratingly on the ears of the occupants oftbe veranda. Grenfells turned toward the door, meeting bis son-in-law, whose face was flusbed with wine, bis step unsteady. "Your wife is in ber chamber,'1said the old merchant. "Well, it's time she was here. I'm going home now. Order the carriage, old man, and I'll call Viyinia."

This speech, so rude and unfeeling, fell like a bolt of thunder upon Warren Grenfells.

He was deeply shocked, to say the

leTbecarriage

was ordered, however.

mty minutes later the br''

Twenty minutes later thi bridegroom araed from his wife's room. Where is Virginia?" he again questioned. sharply. "In her room." "She is not. I came from there just sow. The room is empty." •«be bas stepped oof foranrfnnte and will soon return, douUleae,"aaki Mrs.

returned from his wife's room.

not return. An hour

nsaariT Mr. Grenfells and young Barnirell went again to bar cbamnsr and Is

f'T? "7

Ky^i'

r*".

found it still vacant. Not yet were they alarmed. As hour after hour passed, ana no appearance of the bride, the household became alarmed.

The house and grounds were searchedNo clew to the girl's whereabout was discovered. ,,x ...

Warren Grenfells grew white witl* fear. An inward horror possessed himQuestioning the servants availed nothing. No one had seen the bride after the door of her room closed on her. A mystery deep and profound shrouded, the whole affair.

It becomes our province now to relate what occurred in the bridal-chamber after Virginia dismissed ber maid and closed the door.

The key was in the lock, but Virginia did not secure the door, since she expected the advent of her husband ere many minutes.

She did not know how illy he was deporting himself in the supper-room. Trusting him fully, she had no suspicion of his true character.

The gas was burning but dimly. Virginia turned it on to a full glow, and sank into the huge, roomv, easy-chair that occupied the center of the room.

Her blue eyes, full of a moist light* were bent upon the soft carpet, studying the figures, and picturing in the various curves of outline the future that loomed up rose-tinted before ber.

There was only one speck of trouble in her heart, and that was so tiny as to be^ scarcely noticeable.

A white, clear-cut face, with brown board and honest, brown eyes, haunted her just then.

Whv? Sim pi for the reason that ouce, yeara ago, she* had found herself associated with the owner of that face, had been on terms of friendliness with him. Boy and girl together, they bad attended the Bame school but more than four years beforeour story opens Orville Kenwood had drifted out of her life forever, and they had not met since. Kenwood was the son of poor parents, and grew up a wild and reckiess youth. Her father disapproved of his daughter's intimacy with such a person, and the two drifted apart-

While Virginia sat musing thus, her ear caught the souud of creaking binges* The door opened and closed.

Tbe key grated in the lock, and some one crossed the carpet to the Bide* of tho dreaming bride.

Virginia did not move. She thought it was bor husband who had entered,and she felt like teasing him a little.

She was roused most suddenly by thecold touch of a soft hand. Virginia started up, scarcelv repressjg a shriek at what sne beheld.

A slender, girlish form,dressed in deej black, the face closely veiled, met her eyes. "Husb!"said a voice in her ear. "Benot alarmed. I have not come to harm you. It's for your good I am here—for "the preservation of your honor."

[TO BE CONTINUED NEXT WEEK.]

Five

Dr.'s

no end of medicine: no

relief. Dr. Benson's Skin Cure has driven away all eruptions and I'm nearly well Ida. Young, Hamilton, 111., Druggist* keep it, $1 per package.

That is what a great many people are doing. They don't know just what is the matter, but they have a combination of pains and aches, and each month they grow worse.

The only sure remedy yet found is BROWN'S IRON BITTERS, and this by rapid and thorough assimilation with the blood purifies and enriches it, and rich, strong blood flowing to every part of the system repairs, the wasted tissues, drives outdisease and gives health and strength.

This is why BROWN'S IRON BITTERS will cure kidney and liver diseases, consumption, rheumatism, neuralgia, dyspepsia, malaria, intermittent fevers. &c.

Mr. Simon Dlanchard, a wellknown cilizenof Hayetvillc, Meade county,Kentucky,»ny« My wife had been tick for long time, and her constitution wa* all broken down and *hc was unable to work. She wa* advised to u*e Brown'*

ron

Bitter*, and found it to wcrk like a charm. We would not now be without it for any consideration, a* we consider it the best tonic in the world."

BROWN'S IRON BITTERS is not a drink and does not contain whiskey. It is the only preparation of Iron that causes no injurious effects. Get the genuine. Don't be imposed on with imitations.

Mary Stuart Face Powder

This Powder contains no Arsenic, Lime or W hlle Lew Not being polsonoa* 'It may be used by the roost delicate lady with oat fear. It will not rougben the *kln. and will remove FreckJesana Tan, and allay Irritation. ArtlJrt* who are obliged to use a cosmetic, re co mitnend Mary Btoart

^^gpjFaoe Power as tbe

most harmless. A akin diseases says: "It pS52l metics. I reoomend Mary qtuajt Face Pow der as tbe simplest and most harrciesfc riasb or White.

Pries

cent* per oox.

Agent tor Terre Hante, IM,

GULICK & CO.