Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 14, Number 5, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 28 July 1883 — Page 6

s§

THE MAIL

—. i. &':

A PAPER FOR THE PEOPLE.

FOR SOMEBODY'S SAKE.

Ax o'er life's mountains and vales Oar pilgrimage Journey we take, We *da to oar trouble and care, And heavier burdens we bear,

For somebody sake.

Tboogh deeply we're wounded by grief, Though the heart may continue to ache, Our aorrowi we keep out of right. And oar face* are imillag and bright,

For somebody's sake.

We lator and toil all the day, And many a sacrifice make, And at night may be weary and worn With the trial* we've cheerfully borne,

For somebody's sake.

Though humble our dwelling may be, Though simple the food we partake, Our happiness mav be assured. And poverty1* ills be endured,

For somebody'*

What wond ous tasks we achieve I Wtiat wonderful deeds undertake I And how sweet is the victory won, When nil we've accomplished was done

For somebody's sake.

The struggle that's only for self No loy among angels may wake. But the brightest of crowns will be given To thaws who have suffered and striven

For somebody's sake. —{Josephine PoJlard,

Her. Mother's Sin

BY THE AUTHOR OF

•Dora Thome," "Lady Damer's Secret," "The Shadow of a sin," "Love for a Day," etc.

This intensely interesting story was commenced in The Mail last week, and in one of the best that has appeared in these calumns. The opening chapters tell of the loss by shipwreck of the Earl of Cradoc's two sons, a pair of noble boys, returning from a trip to America. Liord Cradoc's wife is dead, and his sis-tor-in-law, Lady Marda Hyde, is mistress of the Poole mansion, the seat of the Oradoc family, for many generation^ famous in song and story, and originally a feudal castle. Lord Cradoc, one of the richest men in England, with immense estates was, in the death of bis sons, lett without heir or heiress, and it was determined that one of two girls, distant relatives, should be chosen as Countess of Cradoc, in order that in the death of the Earl one of the oldest titles in England should not beextinct. Lord Cradoc starts upon a journey^to see these girls and invite them to Poole, which brlligs the reader to

CHAPTER IV.

"LOVKLY AS AN ARTIST'S DREAM." Thore was an air of liveliness and perity about the well-swept stre North Held evidently a brisk trade was

pros-

jrity about the well-swept streets of

done in the well-furnished shops. The latest addition to the place was a large town-hall and corn exchange. The factories, workshops, and houses of the work people and laborers were all to the oast thecontreof the town was occupied by the public buildings, the principal shops, and places of worship to the west lay the residences of the professional men and gentry—pretty villas situated in their own grounds, large, old-fash-ioned houses haif buried in trees and standing half a mile further on was an old manor house iu a desolate yet picturesque spot.

There was some little excitement when Lord Cradoc entered the George Hotel attended by bis valet. The earl said that he wished to take rooms, as he was in the neighborhood on business, and should remain perhaps two or three weeks. On inquiring about Mr. Eriecote, he was in formed that he lived at, the old manor house with his daughter.

It was early on a tine October morning that Lord Cradoc set out on his important visit. The weather was unclouded tho south wind was ladeu with sweet odors the yellow broom was all in flower. Tho road was pleasant enough, and on reacbiug a slight eminence he caught a glimpse of the ocean. With a bitter cry lie clasped his hands beseechingly, as* though no would fain ask the aea to give back its dead. As he gazed on tho Inroad expanse illumined by the brilliant light of the morning sun, hope revived in uis heart, and he prayed that he might find one worthy to succeed his bovs.

The road grew more beautiful and the view of the sea more open as he went on. Then from the main thoroughfare a byroad branched off, and there, halt buried in foliage, stood the manor house—a Urge, rambling, picturesque building of

Sweltstone.who

ray Could it be that therein one might succeed him, the future Countess of Cradoc? He raised his hat from his head and prayed that Heaven might guide him rightly.

As Lord Cradoc drew nearer to the manor house. he saw that it was in a state of terrible dilapidation. In one respect it was beauiiful enough—the whole facade was covered with flowers aud ivy. Hut the garden was neglected, the grass grew in the old courtyard, the entrance

fog

ates were broken in several places, the kennels were empty, and there was not a sign of life about tne stables. An emerald lawn lay in front of the house, studded with noble trees, a cedar, and sewrat silver and copper beeches. Hollyhocks hung their heavy heads, and dahlias of every shade of color abounded vet there was evidently no cane taken of them. The weeds were as luxuriant is the (lowers where the winds bad blown down branch or rail, there it lay sprays of ivy trailed over the tint)

and say bow pleased I should be to see him?" Reluctantly enough Marjory took the oard from him. "It will be of no use," she said. "I shall be glad if yon will take in that ird at once," mid the earl, impatiently.

This was not a very auspicious commencement. The old servant capitulated. .. "Please walk this way," she said, at length.

What a quaint old place it was! There

were stepe evi

rooms on the ground fl

Sen

ticfy patbs.

Still not even these evidenced of neglect could detract from beauty of the place. from the great stacks of chimneys,no sound came from the courtyard. The earl pulled the bell. Its clangor died away for some minutes perfect alienee reigned then came the sound of unchaining and unlocking, and an old woman, with crrww, wrinkled face and gray hair, stood before him. "Hidyou ring?*she asked, in uo very civil tone. "1 did,** answered the earl: and the old servant Marjory perceived at oixne that a genU$tnan was before her.

the picturesque No amoke issued

Do yw want to come in she asked more poli^j. •«I should no* have rung nnless desired to dk so," lie answered. "Is Mr. Erieeote at hornet" "Yea, be is at borne," she said, and then mattered something whkfe the earl moid not catch, "I beg yo«rpardon," abe added, after a moment "I *ey belt at home bat tmtaet yon have a picture to aril, be will not see yon.**

certainly have no pictures to sell. But will yoci give Mr. Erieeote this ourd

A/ t»k

•erywbere,

and most of the oor opened into

the great entrance hall. Three steps led down to the dining room, five up to the drawing room, two to the library, and one to the morning room. The earl was shown into the drawing room, a striking apartment with but little furniture a dark crimson carpet, and a painted ceiling. Pictures covered the warnthere was hardly an inch of them left uncovered. Indeed, it was a picture gallery rather than a drawing room. The morning light fell on a superb picture of the Magdalen by Guido—Magdalen, tearful and penitent, with avail of golden hair over her white shoulders, and tears on her fair face. Cloee to it hung one of Fra Angelico saints, then came one of Greuze's fresh smiling maidens, a sunny gleam in her eyes, one of Velasquez's dark noble faces with velvety eyes, a sunny landscape of Cuyp, a Spanish boy by Murillo—all copied witn such marvelous truth and aocuracy that even a connoisseur might have been pardoned for not at once recognizing that they were not originals.

While Lord Cradoc was looking with admiring eyes round the room, the old servant went to Mr. Erlecote's study. She knew that it was useless to knock— he would never reply so she opened the door and walked in.

Mr. Erieeote looked up at her, his eyes gleaming with alight as of inspiration. Marjory laid the card before bim. He gazed at it for a moment. "Lord Cradoc!" he said. "I can not possibly see him. I have just tbe color that I want for the rose tint on these clouds.* Ask Miss Daphne to o." "It is enough to try the patience of a

Int!" murmured Marjory. "It is bad ough when they are alone but when _ey nave visitors it is maddening." nd she went away in search of Daphne.

If I have to search this great house through to find Miss Daphne,", said the woman, presently, as she stood still in tbe great entrance ball, "tbe gentleman |yill not get away before nightfall."

But the Fates were propitious, hrough one of the side doors that openout into the garden came a sweet ung girl. Daphne Erieeote was just ighteen, and lovely as a dream. She iad tbe blonde beauty of the Cradocs— luty that was dazzling in its freshness, to face on the walls of tbe old house so fair as hers and1 just now, flushed th fresh air and exercise, it was radit. Marjory gave a rapid glance to see her young mistress was presentable, white morning dress

Bhowed

off the

issom graceful figure to advantage. The vell-molded throat, tbe slim waist, the perfect lines of the sloping shoulders, could not fail to strike the beholder. Health and happiness shone on the lovely young face, tne large, bright blue eyes might have caught their color from the morning skies, and she had a woman's crowning glory, a wealth of rippling

olden hair. She came in from the garwith ber hands full of sweet Autumn blooms, fair as a flower herself, in all the bea&ty and freshness of the glorious October toorning. "Oh, Mt*g Daphne," cried Marjory, in an injured tone, "do put those flowers down and listen to me! What with your papa and his pictures, and you with your flowers, my life Is burden. Put them down, my dear."

With a smile that brightened her lovely face, Daphne placed the flowers on a stand, and then Marjory gave her the card. "I have been to your papa, miss, but that was of no use. He is up to his eyes snd cannot leave it but he wishes you to go."

,JLord

Cradoc!" said Daphne, wonder-

ingly. "Surely that is not the great earl to whom my mother was related?" "Well, if he is a great earl," thought Marjory, "he has heard a little of my mind and she derived great consolation from the fact.

But Daphne's fair young face was clouded. "I cannot see him," she said hastily. "I should not know how to receive him. I will go and see papa first." "Remember the old proverb, Ml Daphne," cried Mariory. "Fortune rapta once at everybody door, and, if the rap be not answered, she never calls aftaln."

Daphne hastened through tbe long eorriuors, the walls of which were covered with paintings, to her father's room. "Papa," said the girl softly, "you really must listen to me."

But the dreamy eyes raised to hers seemed hardly conscious of ber presence. She drew nearer and looked at the picture on the easel. "Still the rose-colored clouds?" she said.

Yes and I have the right color at last. Tho rose-light is transparent, and one can see the olue sky through it. I have seen just such clouds over tbe sea, Daphne." "They are very beautiful, papa," she allowed, hurriedly "but coula you not take your thoughts from them just for a few minutes?" "Oh, my dear Daphne!" remonstrated the artist. "You must, indeed, papa and with resolute hands she drew her father's head toward her. "Try to think that I vn a picture, papa, and then you will be interested in me," she said, with some little bitterness. "You area picture, Daphne," said the artist, his eyes aglow with enthusiasm. "You bave tbe dainty coloring of reuse and the fair face and golden hair of Fra Angelico's saints you are a living picture. Mine, at tbe best, are dead tbey never speak." "I want yon to tell me what I mint do, papa. You have often spoken of tbe

risearl

who was related to my mother here. Do you understand? He has come to see as." "What does be want?" asked Mr. Erieeote, discontentedly. "What has brought bim here? We are not accustomed to such distinguished guests." "Still be bus shown kindness and courtesy in calling we must not repay

thai by'radmeesand incivility." Yon go. Daphne be as civil yon will to him,**

But," ebe interrupted, 'If be asks for yoo?M "I cannot mm bim. I mart fill in this row»-colored sky. Ob, Daphne, it would be cruel to ask me to leers off now! Lei mm finish it while tbe fever on me." "I

will do my best,"said tbe girl, with smothered wtgh. "I will go to him." Mr. Erieeote returned, with a look of uoutterabfegreUef, to his n—el. Daphne went slowly to tbe drawing room, greatly perplexed as sbe thought of tbeoom* ing interview. It was with something like pang that sbe remembered there was hardly any furniture in tbe roomto sit down on, not a coocb that was At

HP*

:j§|j CHAPTER V. "WITH A O&KAT LOTS OF PICTURES." As Daphne opened the door and entered the room, happily unconscious how seriously her fate might be influenced by the tall aristocratic man so eagerly watching for her, Lord Cradoc's eyee fell on perhaps tbe fairest face be had ever seen—so fair, so delicate, so exquisite in its refinement, that he was startled. It was the true Cradoc face dainty and high-bred. The girl had the beautiful forehead, tbe straight dark brows, the sensitive sweet mouth of the Cradocs she had their grace and charm. Sbe might almost bave been a sister of his gallant boys. The earl was startled by the resemblance be went forward eagerly enough

to meet her, and she, shyly

enough held out her hand to him.

I must introduce myself," said the earl. "I trust that you will not consider my visit an intrusion. I am Lord Cradoc your mother was distantly related to me." "I can remember bearing my mother speak of you," she remarked. "I have business in tbe neighborhood," he continued, "and so am staying at the George Hotel at Northfield. I thought I would call and makeyoui quaintance. You are, of course, Daphne Erieeote "Yes," she replied, looking at him with frank ingenuousness "I am Daphne Erieeote." "Do you know," he contined, "that you area true Cradoc? You area distant relative but you have the features of tbe race." "I am like my mother," sbe said simply. "Your mother was Annabel Hyde," remarked the earl. "To my infinite regret, I never saw her but I should like to see Mr. Erieeote."

Dapbone looked up into his face with a smile that dazzled bim she laughed a sweet low laugh that gladdened his heart "If the queen called to-day,,' she said, "I am afraid papa would not comedown stairs. "Why not?" asked the earl. "Ishe ill?" "He has an attack of fever," she replied, 'artists' fever.'" "I have Jheard |tbat Mr. Erieeote is an enthusiastic artist," said the earl. "Those are mild words," Daphne observed. "Papa simply lives in pictures. They are as food, drink, sleep, fresh air, everything to him. Color, form, harmony, tint, are his dream by night and by day. He says himself that, if a man loves an art, he must live and die in it." "I understand that," said tbe earl. "Do you cried the girl. "Alas, I do not! When the whole world is so full of beauty, why love only one portion of it?"

Then Daphne suddenly remembered that she was receiving a guest, and asked bim to take a chair but she wisely refrained at present from any offers of hospitality, knowing how limited were the resources at her command, while tbe earl sat gazing in wonder at the delicate loveliness of the girl before him.

It was a situation in which, just at first, neither felt quite at ease but realizing tbe gravity of his errand, tbe earl felt that he must endeavor to put his young kinswoman at her ease. Her graceful delicate beauty had somewhat startled him at first ber resemblance to tbe Cradocs had made bis heart warm to her. As he gazed at her, he thought bow graceful and distingue a countess she .would make, and he wondered what would be her lot. "Thisisa very picturesque old house," he began, almost at a loss what to say. He was wondering as to her tastes, her temperament. "It was a nice bouse once, when my mother was alive," she replied "now it is nothing but a vast picture-gallery. I can remember when we had bandsome furniture, plate, books, as othei people. Tbey nave all made way for pictures. There is not a square yard vacant on the walls of any room in the bouse now." "They"must be very valuable," said the earl. "I do not knpw. I do not think shey are." she replied, "for most of tbem are copies. My father's own pictures are, 1 think, valuable. As you area stranger, you do not of course know the object for which my rather works and lives." "I should like know it." remarked the earl.

"For tbe last twenty years," said Daphne, "he bas bad. but oue thought. He believes that all English people are deficient in art-educati6n, and be imagines himself to be tbettiodern apostle who is to open their eyes.: His idea is to begin here in the town* it\ which be lives and be hopes other towns and other artists will follow h&\example. He wants to educate tbe people in art and artistic matters, and hopes to erect a building which will contain all his pictures. He bas copied himself or purchased from other copios of nearly all the most famous pictures. Moreover, be is writing an exhaustive bookreontaining a life of every painter of note, and a list of bis most famous works. There is also a fine collection of bis own iporks and the wbole to be called tbe 'ESrlecote Gallery,' will become at bis deatb|if not before" the property of the townsjteople of Northfield." "It is a very generous but nottvery practical idea," said tbe earl.

It is generous," said Daphne an If, her face flushed. "Dont you think it |3§actical "I am afraid not," replied Lord (/fadoc. "It is grand but tbe realization will be difficult." "I bave never attempted to trace tbe the character,'

i:^.-1.' •:. V- fgy- :.r-A """•.» "t'

TfflRR'fc HAUTE SAT\j-tv-L»AY EV.IirN.LN 13- MAIL. »r1 Irs

as a dining ball. Here also there were'pictures from ceiling to floor. In the midst was one to which the girl pointed.

My father has a passion for idealizing flowers," sbe said. "He painted twelve similar pictures,each named after or rather idealizing, a flower. I was

Sis."

called Daphne after Lord Cradoc was lost in admiration. It was but the slender lissom figure of a young girl clad in a simple blue dress, with a lovely face and glad bright eyes, her hair gleaming in the sunlight. In her bands she held a t-pray of daphne. The delicate tints.the graceful harmony, the loveliness of tbe girl's face and figure astonished the earl. Though so simple, it was yet a masterpiece. "And you were named after this said the earl. "Yes that was my mother's favorite

Sither,"

icture. I will show you tbe others. My continued Daphne, "likes to

take some sweet it.

poem Look,

and paint a picLord Cradoc, at

ture from this. The picture represented a girl watch ing by a grave in the waning light of a crescent moon. The unutterable pathos on the girl's face was the charm of the pain ting. "Theseare the words^he illustrated," sbe said. Shall I readxhem to you?" "If you please," he answered and she read "They loved thee, dear, they mourned thee dead.

Time flies and thev forget To ine no pitying word was said I had no right one tear to shed,

And I remember yet.. "The happy ones thou lov'dst so well Thy mem'iy have forgot But I, brief friend, who scarce can tell Or if thon lov'dst or lov'dst me well—

Lo, I forget thee not! '•So sweet, the very thought of thee Illumes my earthly lot: I care not wheresoe'er I be, Or rich or poor, or bond or free,

So 1 forget thee not." "I cannot tell," said the earl slow! "which is the more beautiful, the wori or tbe picture." "They seem to me equally so," she remarked. "Here area pair upon lines by tbe same poet. Tbe first represents a home interior—a little cradle with silken quilt, the tender face of a young mother Dent over ber sleeping child while the second represents the little grave of the same child. See how tbe wind has blown the dead leaves over the grass and scattered the flowers far and wide. Shall I read the poet's words to you "By all means,"said the earl, who was growing more and more charmed.

Daphne read: "The wind it may roar in the forest,

And stir up the stormy deep. fit do not cry round the cradle Where my little one lies asleep. "The rain it may beat on the casement,

To make green the grassy neBt, So it wake not to weeping the sleeper So far from her mother's breast.1'

influence of pictures on said Daphne thoughtfuliy "but I should think It might be great. Paps and I /ver you come to Poole. often argue tbe point. I think people "It must have been a bitter ^ou^ei

argue tne point. I think people most bave some education before tbey can understand pictures: be thinks they can be educated from tbem." "Then." interposed tbe earl, "you and your father do not agree in your ideas?" "lean hardly say that,although we may differ slightly. My dear mother bad some fine diamonds, of which sbe was very proud. Sbe went one day to London and sold them qyery one, and ve my father tbe money they brought help him in tbe carrying out of bif ides." "It is a very singular life," said tbe earl thoughtfully. "My father is an artist to bis heart's core,'7 remarked Daphne. A11 his fortune, everything he bad in tbe world, has gone to further his one ides. That is why oar bouse is unfurnished, our garden neglected, snd tbe grounds— well, rainsdLl «pe*k of these things," sbe continued, "because I know yon most bave noticed tbem." "Do tbey trouble you said tbe earl. "Juct alittfe," replied Daphne. "But it is a relief to bave explained to you why It Is so." "I should like to sis some of your lather's paintings,* said tbe eari. **Bs bas »evar sold s«y," abs replied. "Tbey are all resetted for tbe collection. I will show JM oo& If y^n wisfc/*

She rose, and he ftftlowed ber to another large room, which In tbe palmy. days of tbe old Manor House bad

If it do not grow too wild, To frighten the angel-laughter Brom the dreaming brow of my child. "The wind it may wail in the woodlands,

And sob in the sighing wave, If it do not Bcatter the daisies From their home on my little one's grave. "The rain it may trickle down softly

Daphne did not see that the earl's eyes had grown dim with tears. "I must uot tire you," she said, "but I should like to show you the picture I love best. See—it is a little child lying dead, while the mother keeps watch. And this is the verse wherein she addresses it: 'Little lips now shut so fast,

Lips no human word hath past Sealed ears that never heard Rush of river, song of bird Eyes that were too tired to look At life's wondrous picture bookSenses line, what have ye found Sweet in speech anu sight and sound What new earth and sky and sea Dawns, O baby -soul, to thee A sob broke from the pale lips of the earl. Daphne looked around in wonder. He laid his hand on ber arm. "Daphne," he said—"forgive me for using your name, my dear—I can hear no more. My heart was sore and heavy with anguish when I came to you. My eyes bad looked once more on the blue ibining waters, and the terrible wound in my heart bled afresh. Show me no more pictures read to me no more poems I can bear no more and he leaned against the wall, his face buried in his hands,his

whole

frame trembling.

I am so sorry," said Daphne, who could never endure the sight of suffering or pain. "Have you bad some great trouble

He raised bis bead, and looked at ber with haggard eyes. "Trouble? Ah, that is a weak word, Daphne! I had two sons, handsome, frank, gallant, the very light of my eyes, and they are both dead.'

Dead!" she repeated, shocked and startled. Child," he cried, "do you liveso shut off from tbe world that you have never heard that my sons were dead "I bave never heard it," she replied and bending her lair young head, she kissed the trembling bands. "They were drowned in the wreck of tbe 'Princess Maud be sobbed.

There was silence between them for some minutes then Lord Cradoc spoke. I ought to have more self-com-mand," he said. "I am ashamed of myself, but I was unnerved by tbe sight of tbe sea. I bave never seen it since my bovs were drowned."

She clasped the coid trembling hands gently, and tbe soft caressing touch was very grateful to the aorrow-stricken

man*

It was a very heavy blow, mydsar, be said sadly "for I loved my boys dearly. You will see their portraits if

.returned Daphne gently. "How unfeelIng you must have thought me to chat io

you about pictures and poetry when you were in such distress *"lt seems strange that you should bsve hesrd nothing of It," be remarked presently. "We take tbe newspapers," Daphne replied "but I am afraid we read notbing'bat what pertains to art-matters. I do hot remember to bsve beard anything of tbe wreck of tbe 'Princess Maud.'" "If you bad read tbe account yon surely won Id have felt interested, since yon knew that we were distantly related," said Lord Cradoc. "That relationship bas never seemed real to me," remarked Dapbne. "Mamma spoke of it st timer, bat I never remember to have realised it. Still, I should have felt grieved for you, bad I known, ^ill yon tell me something more about it—tnat is, if it will not dlsyoa?" "It will esse my heart," be replied.

Daphne's fair face grew pale ss rtis Burned,

snd ber heart filled with tender

loving pity for tbe childless man wboss life was rendered so desolate. He looked at ber earnestly as abe «*p»weed tta* pity In loving, artless words. Then be reealled to unsetf tbeoWectof his visit, and again be wondered whether this beautiful, rsftned, InteOeetoal girl would ever be Ooantees of Cndoc.

After a few days the earl and the artist met. Lord Cradoc found that what Daphne had said was perfectly true Mr. Erieeote took no interest in anything outside his work. The earl did everything in bin power to draw him from his seclusion. He sent presents of game and fruit, but without avail.

He remained at Northfield for three weeks, spending nearly every day with Daphne. He became greatly attached to the beautiful young girl, for she was like a daughter to him. That he saw scarcely anything of Mr. Erieeote troubled him exceedingly.

be said, with a strange smile. "I have I morning-dresses, outdoor costumesiand been searching far and near for friends evening toilettes there was none too nni) WIIAHoab TTI^cfa of her

and relatives.' He saw by the innocent calm unconsdous face that these words conveyed nothing to her mind. "I am glad," she said gently, "that yon have iound us. If we can in any way comfort you "I am sure yon will," he broke in, heartily. "I hope that we shall be good friends and that you will come to Pool«. 1 should like to see the light of a young face there again. You would like Lady Marda she is very kind." "I hope I shall come," said Daphne, with a sudden flush. "IJiave never been away from the Manor House in my life." "We will arrange it before I go," returned Lord Cradoc. "And now tell me when I can see your father. I shall be at Northfield some weeks—two or three—and I should like to see you every day." Daphne. "Do earl.

should be very pleased,'-' said ie. you drive out much?" asked the

'We have no carriage or horse," replied Daphne: "as I was saying, we have nothing left but pictures. How I wish it were possible to ask you to stay here instead of at the George!" "1 should like it much better," said the earl. "But it is impossible. Why, we have not a silver fork in the house! Marjory never allows me to invite any one now "Who is Marjory?" asked the earl. "Our old servant. She was my mother's maid when I was born now sbe is the only servant we have. She has been our COOK, housekeeper and everything else for the last ten years." "But, as regards yourself, Daphne, said Lord Cradoc, "does not this all-ab-sorbing idea of your father's overshadow and durkeu your life?'' "I have never been accustomed to anything else." Rhe answered slowly. "I have not the same passion for art that my lather has though it is true that I love pictures very dearly. If have a great affectiou for anything, it is flowers, I think."

Soon afterward they parted. Lord Cradoc charmed with Daphne's delicate, refined beauty and geuius, and Daphne's heart filled with loving pity for the childless man.

Then sbe went back to the studio. Her father had forgotten all about tbe earl, and was in a rapture of delight with his cloud-effects. He could think and speak of nothing else, and Daphne knew that the most important affairs of the world would be as a dead letter to him until the fever was past. Sbe listened in patience, she replied with intelligence, and tbat was all be needed.

It was not until evening that she was able to impress upon bim that he ought to see the earl. He declared that it was quite impossible to ask Lord Cradoc to visit them it would interfere with his studies, with his time he could not bear tbe idea of a visitor. "I do not see, Daphne," said the artist, why we should give ourselves any trouble. Of course lam very sorry for him but I can not see why he has sought us out. We can only sympathize with him. If in his loneliness he needs comfort, it must be you who must give it to him. I have no time to care for anything but the great work of my life."

Sens

VI.

CHAPTER

'OUR NOT UNKNOWN

RELATIONSHIP HERE."

"I could not have believed," wrote the earl to his sister-in-law, "in the existence of so sweet a creature aB Daphne Erieeote. But for the sake of doing justice, I should go no further to seek a worthy Countess of Cradoc. She is lovely in face and figure, resembling the Cradocs, and possessing the true spirit of the race. She is clever and intellectual, too, but not that alone she bas tbe divine fire of genius—she is all poetry. I find Mr. Erieeote a genius and a madman, living entirely for one idea. To carry this out, he has already spent a fortune, selling everything he had worth selling, aud leaving bis daughter quite unprovided for. 1 feel sure you will love this beautiful, gifted girl, and I am sure also that she will make a noble heiress to the glory of the Cradocs. I have not said one word to ber as to my being in search of an heiress but I spoke to-day about her visit to Poole. Mr. Erieeote seems quite willing. I told him that in all probability she would remain, if she liked it, for the Autumn. Her father's chief anxiety was that she should arrange certain books and notices for birn before she went. I believe that the artist loves his daughter as a beautiful picture but there is no room in bis heart or in bis life for anything but bis art. As I wrote just now, Marda, but for tbe sake of justice I should go no further, since I find in Dapbne Erieeote all that I could wish. But Irene Ryeford has a ela.m which must be considered. Write to Miss Erieeote at once, dear Marda, aod tell ber how pleased you will be to see ber, and bow you hope sbe will pay you along visit."

Lady Marda Hyde was delighted when sbe read the letter. "Unless I am greatly mistaken," sbe thought, "Daphne Erieeote will be Countess of Cradoc."

She wrote at onoe a kind invitation to Daphne, who showed it to the earl. "I can hardly believe," sbe said, "that 1 shall see Poole for, though Lord Cradoc bad spent msny an hour tel.ing her of tbe glories of the ancient place, sbe was 8$ll as ignorant of his real errand as sbe was on tbe first dsy tbey met. "There is one thing I must my and do, even st tbe risk of ofltonding you, Daphne," said the earl. "What is it?" sbe asked.

There wss warm affection and the greatest confidence between tbem. "Yon bsve trusted me entirely, snd I know how, while your father lives in sn Elysium of bis own,and dreams of himseff ss great benefactor to tbe human race, be leaves yon scarcely penny for roar dress. So, Dapbne, for yonr mother's sake, yon most take this from me. I offer it in ber nsme. She would not wish you to sppesr among your kinsfolk in msnner unworthy of ber. Take this, my dear spend every shilling on yourself, snd remember tbst yon bsve a name and a position to sustain.

When tbe earl left ber. apd Dapbne opened tbe envelope be bad ptooed in ber band, sbe wss surprised to find that it contained a check for one bnndred and fifty pounds. Sbe laughed si first, fMnlrlny th»i such A sum would prOVid* dress for bef daring tbe remainder of ber natural life bat when sbe went to Mis. Grey, tbe principal milliner of

IR^-.

•4,»ir 4. ., -i',-

Lord Cradoc had not been idle during, hisstay at Northfield. He went to see the building which was destined to be the future "Erieeote Gallery." He made inquiries in all quarters about Mr. Erieeote. He found that every one expressed the same opiniou of bim he was a genius, but mad about his own idea. He found too, that the inhabitants of Northfield had no particular wish to be educated in art tbat most people were of bis own way of thinking—that it would have been better bad Mr. Erieeote thought more of his wife, home and child than of his hobby. He heard many aneodotee which illustrated the selfish character of the artist, his vanity and self-conceit—many others which illustrated the noble generosity and self-sac-rifidng spirit of Daphne. Every one loved and admired ber every one spoke well of her. He did what he could to remedy the extreme poverty of the household at the old Manor liouse, but he had to plead with Daphne for permission. She was so proud and so sensitive tbat he had to beg for it almost as a favor to himself. He had also begged

ermi8sion to have the grounds and garrestored to their former beauty, and then he made arrangements for them being kept in order. Lord Cradoc bad made a friend of Marjory who helped him with all her heart. The old servant saw further than the artist and his daughter, who were both singularly unworlaly. She felt sure that if the earl's sons were both dead, he had not sought beautiful Miss Daphne without purpose: but no such thought ever entered Daphue's mind.

October was drawing to a close when Lord Cradoc left Northfield. By that time a very warm and sincere affection had sprung up between bim aud Daphne. Sbe was sorry to lose bim, and he was sorry to depart. It was arranged that she should go to Poole in a week or two, by which time he would be at hoine again. And then the earl spoke to her of Irene Ryeford. The name was unknown to her her mother had never spoken of'the Ryefords. But Daphne's face brightened. "I have never had a girl friend in all my life," she said. "Here in Northfield there is no oue for mo to associate with. Papa will not allow me to visit the townspeople, and tho country people do not invite me so that I am quito aloue.'' "It will not be for loug, Daphne," said the earl.

She thanked him, telling him what a change he lmd wi'ouG,ht in her life and how grataful she was to bim.

Lord Cradoc, when saying good-bve to Mr. Erieeote, would bave lilted very much to speak to him of his daughter, to say something of her probable future but of what avail would it have been to a man who looked upon his child simply as a beautiful picture? He went away without any one, savo old Marjory, having the least idea of the object of his visit.

OotUinued on Seventh Page.

SCIIMO, N. Y., Dec. 1, 1879.

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