Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 16, Number 35, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 20 February 1886 — Page 2

ir/

Entered, according to Act of Cong res*, by Geo. P. Putnam's Sons, in the of Con grew, at Washington. Printed in The Mail by authority of Geo. P.

The Leavenworth Case.

BY ANNA KATHARINE GREEN.

Author of "A Strange Disappearance "The Sword of Damocles, a Story of New York Life "The Defence of the Bride, and other Poems "Hand and Ring Etc.

[Commenced in The Mail, Nov. 28th. Back numbers supplied or sent to any address.]

XXXII.

MRS. BELDEN'S NARRATIVE.

Cursed, destructive Avarice,

Thou everlasting foe to Love and Honor. TRAP'S ABRAM. Mischief never thrives

Without the help of Woman. THE SAME. It will be a year next July, since I first saw Mary Leavenworth. I was living at that time a most monotonous existence. Loving what was beautiful, hating what was sordid, drawn by nature toward all that was romantic and uncommou, butdoomed by my straightened position and the loneliness of my widowhood, to spend my days in the weary round of plain sewing, I had begun to think that the shadow of a humdrum old age was settling down upon me, when one morning, in full tide of my dissatisfaction, Mary Leavenworth stepped across the threshold of my door, ana with one smile changed the whole tenor of my life. A-

This may seem exaggeration to you, especially when I tell you that her errand was simply one of business, she having heard I was handy with my needle but if you could have seen her as she appeared that day, marked the look with which she approached me, and the smile with which she/left, you would pardon the folly of a romantic old women, who beheld a fairy queen, where others saw a lovely young lady. The fact is, I was dazzled by her beauty and her charms. And when a few days after she came again, and crouching down on the stool at my feet, asked leave to sit with me awhile and rest, saying she was so tired of the gossip and turmoil down at the hotel, and so longed at times to run away and hide with some one who would let her act like the child she was, I experienced for the moment, I believe, the truest happiness of my life. Feeling so, it was impossible for me not to show it. Something of all that which I had kept repressed till now, awoke in response to her persuasive glance, and -before long I found her looking up into my face with a manifest pleasure, listening eagerly while I tola her, almost "without my own volition, the story of my past life, in the form of a tender allegory.

The next day saw her in the same place and the next always with the eager, laughing eyes, and the fluttering, uneasy hdnds, that grasped everything they touched, and broke everything they grasped.

But the fourth day she was not there, nor 'he fifth, nor the sixth, and I was beginning to feel the old shadow settling back upon me, when one night, just as the dusk of twilight was merging into evening gloom, she came stealing in at the front door, and creeping up to my side, put her hands over my eyes with such a low, ringing laugh, that I started. "You don't Know what to make of me!" cried she, throwing asideher cloak and revealing herself in thj full splendor of evening attire. "I don't know what to make of myself, only," she whispered, "I felt that I must run away, and tell some one that for the first time in ray life I am fully alive that a certain pair of eyes have been looking into mine, and that not Mary of Scots, with all her beauty and queenliness, ever felt herself more of the sovereign or more the woman than I do to-night."

And with a turn of her head, that must have rivalled any gesture of that beautiful queen, she gathered up her cloak around her.aruJ laughingly cried: "Have you had a visit from a flying sprite Has one little ray of moonlight found its way into your prison for a wee moment, with Mary's laugh and Mary's Bnowy silk and Hashing diamond? Say!" and she patted my cheek and smiling so bewilderiugly, that even now, with all the dull horror of these after-events crowding upon me, I cannot but feel something like tears spring to my eyes at the thought of it." "And so the Prince has come for you? I whispered, alluding to the story I had told her the last time she had visited me a story in which a girl, who had waited all her life in rags and degradation for the lordly knight who was to raise her from a hovel to a thjane, died just as her one lover, an laoliest peasant-lad whom she had dls(fade^ in her pride, arrived ft* her door with th© fortune in his hand he had spent aM hisrrlays in anmssiug for her sake.

Hut at that she flushed and drew back toward the door. "I don't know, I am afraid not. I-I don't think anything about that. Princes are no! so easily won," she murmured. "What, are you going?" I said, "and alone?" Let me accompany you."

But she only shook fairy head, and replied "No, no that would be spoiling the romance indeed. I have oome upon

vou like a sprite, and like a sprite will 1 go." And flashing like the moonbeam she was, she glided out into the night, and floated away down the street when she next came, I observed a feverish excitement in her manner, that assured me even plainer than the coy sweetness displayed in our last interview that her heart had been touched by her lover's attentions. Indeed, ahe hinted as much before she left, saving in a melancholy tone, wten I had ended inv story in the usual happy way, with kisses and marriage, "I shall never marry!" finishing the exclamation with a long-drawn sigh, that somehow emboldened me to say, perhaps I knew ahe had no mother "Audwhy? What reason can there be for such rosy lips saying there possessor will never marry

She gave me one ouick look, ond then dropped her eves. I feared I had offended her. and was feeling very humble, when she suddenly replied, iu an even but low tone: "I said I should never marry, because the one man who pleases me, is the last whom fate will allow me for a husband." "Fate?" repeated I, all the hidden romance of my nature starting into sudden life. "Yea." ••What do you mean Tell me." "There is nothing to tell," said ahe "onlv L&ftvf been so weak to—" ahe iX„i^-"iwfaU in love, ahe waa a mire a man whom me to marry." y, but I drew ancle will not tied. "Why

no* will nev®

And tie roe# her bac. "Whoa allow «u to opftir? becaun he is poor

Jfq uncle

extent a

Cla wring is not of a beautiful pfr try-"

but not to

besides, Mr. the owner wn coun-

JOV*

auch

Her violet eyes fairly flashed in her amazement. "You don't understand," she said "Mr. Clavering is not poor, hut uncle is rich. I shall be a queen—" There she

Eaused,

It was lightly said, and lightly meant, for she did not even wait for my reply. But its seed sank deep into our two hearts for all that. And for two days I •pent my time in planning how I should manage, if It should ever fall to my lot to conduct to a successful issue, so enthralling apiece of business as an elopement. You may imagine, then, how delightful I waa, when one evening Hannah, this unhappy girl who is now lying dead under my roof, and who was occupying the position of lady's maid to Miss Mary Leavenworth at that time, came to my door with a note from her mistress, running thus: ••Have the loveliest story of the season ready for me to-morrow and let the prince tie as handsome as—as some one yon have beard of, and the princess as foolish as yonr yielding pet,

She

paced

wmu

"Own country," I interrupted he not an American?" "No," she returned he is an Englishman."

I did not see why she need say that in just the way she did, but supposing she was aggravated by some secret memory, went on to inquire: "then what difficulty can there be? Isn't he—" I was going to say steady, but refrained. "He is an Englishman," cried she, the same bitter tone as before. "In saying that, I say it all. Uncle will never let me marry an Englishman."

I looked at her in amazement. Such a puerile reason as that had never entered my mind. "He has an absolute mama on the subject," resumed she. "I might as well ask him to allow me to drown myself, as to marry an Englishman."

A woman of truer judgmen' than rayself would have said '"Then if that is so, why not discard from your breast all thought of him Why dance with him, and talk to him, and let your admiration develop into love?" But I was all romance then, and angry at a perjudice I could neither understand nor appreciate, I said: "But that is mere tyranny! Why should he bate the English so? And why, if he does, should you feel yourself obliged to gratify him in a whim so unreasonable "Why? Shall I tell you, auntie?" she said, flushing and looking away. "Yes," I returned "tell me everything." "Well, then, if you want to know the worst of me, as you already know the best, I hate to incur my uncle's displeasure, because—because—I have always been brought up to regard myself as his heiress, and I know that if I should marry contrary to his wishes, he would Instantly change his mind and leave me penniless." "But," I cried, my romance a little dampened by this admission, "you tell me Mr. Clavering has enough to live upon, so you would not want and if you love—"

trembling and falling on my

reast. "Oh, it sounds mercenary. I I know," she sobbed, "but it is the fault of my bringing up. I have been taught to worship money. I would be utterly lost without it. And yet—" her whole face softened with the light of another emotion, "I cannot say to Henry Clavering, 'Go! I love my riches better than you I cannot, oh, 1 cannot!" "You love him, then," said I, determined to get at the truth of the matter if possible.

She

ie rose restlessly. "Isn't that proof of love If you knew me you would say it was." And turning, she took her stand before a picture that hung on the wall of my sitting room. "That looks like me," she said.

It was one of a good pair of photographs I possessed. "Yes," I remarked, "that is why I prize it."

She did not seem to hear me, she was absorbed in gazing at the exquisite face before her. "That is a winning face," I heard her say. "Sweeter than mine. I wonder if she would ever hesitate between love aud money. I do not believe she would," her own countenance growing gloomy and sad as she said so "she would think only of the happiness she would confer she is not hard lfcke me Eleanore herself would love this girl."

I think she Md forgotten my presence for at the mention of her cousin's name, she turned quickly around with a halfsuspicious look, saying lightly, "My dear old Mamma Hubbard looks horrified. She did not know she had such a very unromantic little wretch for a listener, when she was telling all those wonderful stories of Love slaying dragons, and living in caves, and walking over burning ploughshares as if they were tufts of spring grass, did she "No," I said, taking her by an irresistible impulse of admiring affection into my arms "but if I had, it would have made no difference. I should still have talked about love, and of all it can do to make this weary work-a-day world sweet and delightful." "Would you Then you do not think me such a wretch?"

What could I say I thought her the winsomest being in the world, and frankly told her so. Instantly she brightened into her very gayest self. Not that I thought then, much less do I now, that she particularly cared for my good opinion but her uature demanded admiration, and unconsciously blossomed under it as a flower under the sunshine. "And you will still let me come and tell you now bad I am,—that is, if I go on being bad, as I doubtless shall to the end of the chapter You will not turn me off?" "I will never turn you off." "Not if I should do a dreadful thing Not if I should run away with my lover some fine night, and leave uncle to discover how fll his affectionate partiality had been requited

»uu, mm ok vu\o

MABT.

Which short note could only mean that she was engaged. But morning light did not bring my Mary, nor noontide, nor evening. The next day came and went, but beyond bearing that Mr. Leavenworth had returned—he had been away traveling—I received neither word nor token. Two more days dragged by, when just aa twilight set in she came. It had been a week since I had seen her, but it miftht have been a year by the change I observed In her countenance and expression. I could sea reel her with any show of pleasure, so unlike her former «felf. "You are disappointed, are yon not?" said she, looking at me. "Yon expected revelations, whispered hopes, and all

TBRRE HAUTE SATURDAY EVEISlING MAIL.

0-— 0

five mioutes before Eleanore told him. "Then she knew

•Yes

•qu~

known, Sne is so'conscientious. "I do not call it conscientiousness to tell another's secrets," I returned. "That is because you are not Eleanore." .,

Not having a reply for this, I said "And so your uncle did engagement with favor? "Favor Did I not tell you he would never allow me to marry an Englishman. He said he would sooner see me buried." "And you yielded? Made no struggle? let the hard, cruel man have his way?"

She was walking off to look again at that picture which had attracted her attention the time before, but at this word

.Uv,r-~v.

And so it was I took the fatalotepthat

good-by to her O^T By some c$gni when 1 broi

manner of sweet confidences, and you office, and I shall never forget how she Leavenworth, very pale bnt with a res see instead a cold, bitter woman, who started when she read it. But from olute countenance, walked into the for the first time in your presence feels looking as if she had received en insult, house and into this room, confronting inclined to be reserved and uncommu- she speedily settled down into a calm Mary in very nearly the same spot nicative." consideration of the subject, writing, where you are now sitting. "I have "That is because you have had more and delivering into my charge for copy- come," she said, lifting a face whose exto trouble than encourage yon in yonr ing, a few lines in which she promised pression of mingled sweetness and powlove," I returned, though not without a to accede to his request if h* would agree er I could not but admire

certain shrinking caused more by her to leave the public declaration of the moment of apprehension, "to ask yoo, manner than words. marriage to her discretion and consent without any excuse for my request, if

cave me one little side-long look that better yet, a very obscure man for its was inexpressibly suggestive. n„t„„ whinh h«at. of "I obeyed him when he commanded, if that is what you mean." "And dismissed Mr. Clavering after having given him your word of honor to be bis wife

Why not, when I found I could not keep my word." "Then you have decided not to marry him*"

She did not reply at once, but lifted her face mechanically to the picture. "My uncle would tell you that I had decided to be governed wholly by his wishes," she responded at last with what I felt was self-scornful bitterness.

Greatly disappointed, I burst into tears. "Ob, Mary!" I cried, "Oh, Mary!" and instantly blushed, startled that I had called her by her first name.

But she did not appear to notice. "Have you any complaint to mafce?" she asked. "Is it not my manifest duty to be governed by uncle's wishes Has he not brought me up from childhood lavished every luxury upon me made me all I am, even to the love of riches which he has instilled into my soul with every gift he has thrown into my 1%), every word he has dropped in my ear, since I was old enough to know what riches meant Is it for me now to torn my back upon fostering care so wise, beneficient, and free, just because a man whom I have known some two weeks chances to offer me in exchange what he pleases to call his love?" "But," I feebly essayed, convinced perhaps by the tone of sarcasm in, srbicb this was uttered that she was not far from my way of thinking, after all, "if in two weeks you have learned to love this man more than everything .else, even the riches which make yotir uticle's favor a thing of such moment—"" "Well?" said she, "what then?" "Why then I would say secure your happiness with the man of your choice if you have to marry him in secret, trusting to your influence over your uncle to win the forgiveness he never can persistently deny."

You should have seen the arch expression which stole across her face at that. "Would it not be better," she asked, creeping to my arms and laying her head ou my shoulder—"would it not be better for me to make sure of that uncle's favor first, before undertaking the hazardous experiment of running away with a too-ardent'lover?"

Struck by her manner, I liftotf her face and looked at it. It was one jkrnused smile. "Oh, my darling," said I, "you have not, then, dismissed Mr. Clavering "I have sent him away," she whispered demurely. "But not without hope

She burst into a ringing laugh. "Oh, you dear old Mamma Hubbard, what a match-maker you are, to be sure You appear as much interested as if you were the lover himself." "But tell me," I urged.

In a moment her serious mood return"He will wait for me," said she.

plan I bad formed for her clandestine intercourse with Mr. Clavering. £t was for them both to assume names, she

conjecture than a strange name, and he that of Le Roy Bobbins. The plan pleased her, and with the slight modification of a secret sign being used on the envelope to distinguish her letters from mine, was at once adopted.

cie

has involved me in all this trouble. The naive expression on Marys face

she would, I seemed to part with what lifted from my heart. And we can

waa left me of judgment and discretion.

Henceforth I was only her scheming,

the letters which she brought me and

did not reply to this, but rose and to bid her farewell at the door of the you will allow me to accompany you

the floor coldly at first, but after- church or wherever the ceremony of upon your drive this morning?" ward with a certain degree of excite- marriage should take place, never to

ment that proved to be the prelude to a come into her presence again until such meet some word of accusation or apchange in her manner, for suddenly declaration hod been made. Of course peal, turned carelessly away to the glasS she turned to me and said: this brought in a couple of days the sure "I am very sorry," she said, "but the "Mr. Clavering has left Mrs. response. "Anything so you will be buggy holds only two, and I shall be Belden." mine." Aud Amy Belden's wits and obliged to refuse." "Left!" powers of planning were all summoned "I will order a "Yes, my uncle commanded me to into requisition for the second time, to "But I do not wish dismiss him, and I obeyed

J—*-

stiU

She held

planning, devoted slave. Now copying The plan agteed upon between us for

the carrying

enclosing them to the false name we bad this: At the time appointed. Mary wss

agreed upon, and now busying myself

could not forward in any other way,

her

arrive at their pioper destination

to excuse

herself

in devising ways to forward to her those plea that she had promised to taice me ,eQ. jet ]oose |D

which I received from him, without risk to see a friend in the next town. »ne

of discovery. Hannah was usually the was then to enter a buggy previously

Jwith-

mediate return. He prepared the summons, but flushed wi distracted by doubts, smitten fear that once withdrawn neighborhood of a woman so ly courted as Mary, he wo^ small chance of retaining his her regard, he wrote to herr fears and asking her to fore be went. jr "Make me once your I follow your wishes in wrote. "The certainty mine will make pvtto out it, I cannot g$j Of should die without tf

*?.o

cousin, That she would suspect

out mishap. And I believe they*ways thing was wrong, we did not did. At all events, no difficulty fiat I

but that she

^JgSk

^4/^1

into requisition for the second time, to "But I do not wish your company,

smiss him, and I obeyed." devise how this matter could be arrang- Eleanore. We are off on a pleasure The work dropped from my hands, in ed without subjecting the parties to the trip and desire to go as we have planmy heart-felt disappointment. "Ah! chance of detection. I found the thing ned by ourselves." then he knows of your engagement to very difficult. In the first place it was "And you will not allow me to ac Mr. Clavering?" essential that the marriage should come company you? "Yes* he had not been in the house

,u:" f^nionawnn

mioutes oeiure lzjieauure tuiu uim. uaviug upuu tu« rwcoipu ui um a not ner carnage. 'Then she knew secured his passage upon a steamer that Eleanore's face grew yet more earnest

jit

.riiipau v/u 4

off within three days, Mr. Clavering "I could' not prevent your going in having upon the receipt of her letter another carriage."

oannrarl liia no aa a rvo nnn a Qtoomflr t.hflt. na Ain'a fona

with a half sigh. "She could sailed on the following Saturday and in its expression. "Mary," said she, rdlyhelpit. I was foolish enough to next, both be aud Miss Leavenworth "we have been brought up together. I i.„, iv.a nno in rnv first moment of wera too consninioua in their personal Am mn si star in ntfactinn if not in blood

:or this, saia: would necessitate an absence from the

to be married without remark, any- venture with no other compauion than where within gossiping distance of the this woman. Neither conscience, love, place. And yet it was desirable that the nor the gratitude I feel for our absent scene of the ceremony should not be too uncle will allow me. If you go where far away, or the time occupied in effect- you propose I must accompany you. ing the journey to and from the place Then tell me, shall it be at your side as

not regard your hotel on the part of Miss Leavenworth the euforced guardian of your honor long enough to arouse the suspicions of against your will?" Eleanore something which Mary felt it My honor wiser to avoid. Her uncle, I have for- "You are going to meet Mr. Clavergotten to say, was not here—having ing." gone off travelling again, shortly after "Well?" the apparent dismissalof Mr. Clavering. "Twenty miles from home." then, was the only town I could "Well

think of, which combined the two ad- "Now is it discreet or honorable for vantages of distance and accessibility, you to this? If it is, discretion and Although upon the railroad it was an honor are not the virtues which I have insignificant place, and had, what was been brought up to tnink them."

I could only raise my hand in apprepension, and point to the gill sitting in the corner «f the room before her. Miss Leavenworth immediately turned back.

VHannah I want you," said she, and would have left the house without another word, but I caught her by the arm. "Oh, miss—" I began, but she gave me such a look, I dropped her arm as if it had been hot steel. "I have nothing to say to you," she cried,in a low thrilling voice. "Do not detain me." And with a glance to see if Hannah were following her, she went out.

For an hour I sat crouched on the stairs just whoie she had left me. Then I went to bed, but I did not sleep a win that night. You can imagine, then, my wonder, when, with the first glow of the early morning light, Mary, looking more beautiful than ever, came running up the steps and into the room where I was, with the letter for Mr. Clavering trembling in her hand. "Ob!" 1 cried in my joy and relier, "did n't she understand me, then

The gay look on Mary's face turned to one of reckless scorn. "If you mean Eleanore, yes. She is duly initiated, Mamma Hubbard knows that I love Mr. Clavering and write to him. I

couldn't

i. -no w.ii wo." iv» "i wilfnotcall Eleanore's lofty indlgThe next day I submitted to her the nation anger. She was grieved, VtAK n]anna LT«•UKanrVAfl AO(

Pd. "IltJ Will VVOIU 1WI mc, oaiu ouw. A Will uuw von

keep it a secret after the mis

take you made last evening, so I did the next'best thing, told her the truth." "Not that you were about to be married "Certainly not". I don't believe in unneccessary communications." "And you did not find her as angry as you expected "I will not say that she was angry enough. And yet," continued Mary, with a burst of selfscornful penitence,

anger. She was grieved, Mam

ma Hubbard, grieved." And with a laugh that I believe was rather the result of her own relief than of any wish

for tnem DOin to assume uauiw, bud gull oi noruwu --j resfcruiut,ouwi taking mine as one less liable to provoke of reflect on her cousin, she threw her patjj

fAniflctnrfi than a strange name, and he head on one side and eyed me with a

—j Mary's haughty lip took an ominous

clergymau, living, which was best of curve. "The same hand that raised you all, not ten rods from the depot. If has raised me," she cried bitterly. they could meet there? Making in- "This is no time to speak of that," requiries, I found that it could be done, turned Eleanore. and all alive to the romance of the occa- Mary's countenance flushed. All the sion proceeded to plan the details. antagonism of her nature was aroused.

And now I am coming to what might she looked absolutely Juno-like in her have caused the overthrow of the whole wrath and reckless menace. "Eleanore," cried she, "I am going to to marry Mr. Clavering. Now do you wish to accompany me?" "I do."

scheme I allude to the detection on the part of Eleanore of the correspondence between Mary and Mr. Clavering. It happened thus: Hannah, who, in her goings back and forth, had grown very fond of my society, had come in to sit with me for awhile one evening. She had not been in the house, however, more than ten minutes, before there came a knock at the front door, and going to it I saw, as I supposed, Mary, from the long cloak she wore, standing before me. Thinking she had come with a letter for Mr. Clavering, I grasped her arm and drew her into the hall, saying: Have you got it I must post it to-night or he will not receive it in time." There I paused, for the panting creature I had by the arm turning upon me. I saw that it was a stranger. '•You have made a mistake," she cried, "I am Eleanore Leavenworth, and I have come for my girl Hannah. Is she here?"

look which seemed to say: "Do I Prague Tell me, mother of children, dead you so very much, you dear old Mam ma Hubbard

She did plague me, and I could not conceal it. "And will she tell your un

I gasped. tion, comes to you—"

With the gift of my name to this young quickly changed. "No, she said. voice broke ia chill and strained, girl to use as she would and sign what I felt a heavy hand, hot with fever, ««wbich

medium we employed for this, as Mary ordered, and drive here, where 1 posed, turned upon her cousin with the felt that it would not be wise in her to join her. We were then to P«®®®j "P

come too often to my house. To this mediately to the minister'8 house in "Then nothing can move you irl's charge, then, I gave such notes as where we had reasons to Deneve we

8hould

Cod everything prepared for us.

secure in the reticence of her nature as But in this plsn, simple as it was, one JMr in

inability to read, that these letters

thing was

addressed to Sirs. Amy Belden would character of Eleanore's lovelTor^ her

forgotten, and that was ine

wcula actually foil

ever heard of arose out of the fse of ap and demand an explanation oine jgnjper with which she waa entering up this girl as a go-between. conduct, was whst neither on this undertaking, and, struck with But a cuange was at hand. Mr. Clav- knew her so well, nor I who knew^der

leaving a little note of excuse on

ore's

dressing-table,

use and was

door.

glancing baek, saw Mary

through the

Do? why

even

upon your drive this morning?"

u-~1

a brought up together

you sister in affection if not in blood *1 cannot see you start upon this ad-

sister, or on the road behind you as

Mary's whole manner changed. Leaping forward she grasped her cousin's arm and shook it. "Why?" cried she. "What do you intendJto do?" ••To witness the marriage if it be a true one, to step between you and shame if any element of falsehood should come in to affect its legality."

Mary's hand fell from her cousin's arm. "I do not understand you," said sh€ "I thought you never gave countenance to what

you

"Mr.

considered wrong

"Nor do I. Anv one who knows me will understand that I do not give my approval to this marriage just because 1 aitend its ceremonial in the capacity of an unwilling witness." "Then why go?" "Because 1 value your honor above my own peace. Because I loveour common benefactor and know that he would never pardon me if I let his darling be married, however contrary her union might be to his wishes, without lending the support of my presence to make the transaction at least a respectable one." "But in so doing you will be involved in a world of deception—which you hate." "Any more so than now

Clavering does not return with

me, Eleanore." "No, I supposed not." "I leave him immediately after the ceremouy." "Eleanore bowed her head. "He goes to Europe."

A pause. "And I returne home." "There to wait for what, Mary

Mary's

face crimsoned and she turn

ed slowly away. "What every other girl does under such circumstances, I suppose. The development of more reasonable feelings in an obdurate parent's heart.

Eleanore sighed, and a short silence ensued, broken by Eleanore's suddenly falling upon her knees and clasping her cousin's hand. "Oh, Mary," she sobbed, her haughtiness all disappearing in a gush of wild entreaty, "consider what vou are doing! think before it is too late of the consequences which must follow auch

act as this. Marriage founded

upon deception, can never lead to happiness. Love—but it is not that, k®^® would have led you either to have dismissed Mr. Ciavering at once or to have openly accepted the iate which a union with him would bring. Only passion stoops to subterfuge like this. And you/' continued she, rising and turning toward me in a sort of forlorn hope very touching to see,—"you who have borne and brought up children, will you see this young motherless girl, driven by caprice and acknowledging no moral restraint, enter upon the dark and crook ed path she is planning for herself, witbout one word of warning and ap-

witbout

is planning for herseir,

one word of warning and ap-

and buried, what excuse you will have for your own part in this days work,

when she, with her face marred by the

... sorrows which must follow this decep

«The

same

excuse probably, Marys

you

go on very wicked piece of business to tie ac

out the letter for reply. complished in his

out of our intentions was

will have when uncle in-

re8

how you

gang her ain

mU8t

momentary

r«"«iars h2 S2SS. don't

EIM-

had come to my

Hastily pulling

her I ran to open it, intending to dis- _oing to her bridal, she handed me her miss mv visitor with short oeremony, fastent As I was doing it with when I"beard a voice behind me »y.

"Good heavens, it is Eleanore!" and

very

looW°f

window-blind

upon the

porch without. thought possible. Will you continue "What shall I do?" cried I, shrink-

came to allow such a

not

help herself, that Mary would

gait, and^^ one around

accommodate themselves to it.

to her cousin upon ine it was like a draught of icy air sud-

Jever

and

room heated up to

points Eleanore stiffened mined-

drawing back pale and com-

remark.

Thg curnngGf

Mary's lip was her on-

QU with my

feelings, but the first

diat

dismay, I advanced tospeak,

oi Tb.™

to marry Henry Clavering to

and

just taking off her long jf

ak to show me her drees, when there

Wtt0r

came a commanding knock at the '*°n jn

her cloak about

going to keep my word-

don»t

love him," she added, with

emphasis. Then smiling upon

way that caused me to forget

every

thing save the fact tMt she was

trembling fingers, she said, looking

Eleanore.

"You have shown yourself more in-

ln my

digpiay

ing back. .. or may I hope that I shall be al-

open the door and let ner

j0we(j

lu: lam not afraid of Eleanore. which, according to you, is about to immediately did so, and Eleanore

N-

fate than I have ever

that concern all the way to

to dream in peace upon the step

hurl upon me such quences?" "If I go with you to Freturned, "it is as a witnf My

sisterly duty is done "Very well, then," Ma ing with sudden gayetv,

in that

*•—in

Mary, who had drawn herself up to

"I will order a carriage."

I tried to do so, but the not come. I could only wa^ In response and rush sobbi^ house.

Of that day and its long ho^J nate remorse and anxiety, trust myself to speak. Let once to the time when, seated my lamp-lighted room, I watched for the token of th which Mary had promised me in the shape of Mary horsefl wrapped in ner long cloak and beautiful face aglow with blusb stealing into the house just as I ginning to despair.

idful conse-j

Eleanod no mor|

[id, dimpl suppose situatio: ry to dis n't hold all beth hispered,

shall have to accept Mamma Hubbard, I ara appoint you, but the bog^ threb. If you are good you, first to congratulate me,"

Andal-i had] •F"1

she

"when I come hometo-tig{,t most before I knew it, taken their seats in the bw waiting at the door. "G^ Mary, waving her hand f^ "wish me much joy—of

A strain of wild music from th porch, where they were having entered with her, producing weird effect upon my fancy that not at all surprised when, in flingi her cloak, she displayed garmen bridal white and a bead crowned withi snowy roses. "Oh, Mary cried I, bursting into tears, "you are then—" "Mrs. Henry Clavering, at your ser-J vice. I'm a bride, Auntie." 1 "Without a bridal^ I murmured,! taking her passionately1 into my em-*: brace. 1

She was not insensible to my emotion. Nestling close to me, she gave herself up for one wild moment to a genuine

*:i

burst of tears, saying between her sobs all manner of tender things, telling me how she loved me, and how I was the only one in all the world to whom she dare come on this her wedding night for comfort or congratulation, and of how frightened she felt now it was all over, as if with her name she had parted with 1 something of inestimable value. 1 "And does not the thought that you have made some one the proudest of men solace you?" I asked, more than dismayed jat this failure of mine to makep| these lovers happy. 1 "I don't know," she sobbed.. "What! satisfaction can it be for him to feel him-l self tied for life to a girl who sooner than lose a prospective fortune subjected him to such a parting?' "Tell me about it," said I.

But she was not in the mood at that 1| moment. The excitement of the dayhad been too much for her. A thousand fears seemed to beset her mind. Crouching down on the stool at my feet, she sat with her hands folded and a glare on her face that lent an aspect of strange unreality to her brilliant attire. "How shall I keep it secret! The thought haunts me every moment how can I keep it secret!" "Why, is there any danger of its being known?" I inquired. "Where you seen or followed "No," she murmured. "It all went well, but—" "Where is the danger then "I cannot say but some deeds are like ghosts. They will not be laid they reappear they gibber they make themselves known whether we will or not. I did not think of this before. I wdajnad,^ reckless, what you will. But ever sMSe the night has come, I have felt it crushing upon me like a pall that smothers life and youth and love out of my heart. While the sunlight remained I could endure it but now—Ob, Auntie, I have done something that will keep me in constant fear.. 1 have allied myself to a living apprehension. I have destroyed my happiness."

I was too aghast to spreak. "I have tried to play gayety lor two hours. I have stood up in the pa» lors below, dressed In my bridal whit and with my wreath of roses, makin, believe to myself that I was recelvin wedding-guests and that every compli ment bestowed upon me—and they wet only too numerous—wore just so man. congratulations upon my marriage-, But it was no use Eleanore knew was no use. She has gone to her root to pray, while I,—I have come here fo the first time, perhaps for the last, fall at some one'B feet and cry. 'Got have mercy upen me!"

I looked at her in uncontrollable emotion. "Oh, Mary," said I, "have I only succeeded, then, in making you miserable

Cky.itinued on Third Page.

"Our sales of Athlooboros 4»xcee! those of any other proprietary reme jm put forward as a specific for rhenmatis*^^ with universally satisfactory results, write Kuehne fc Meissner,

piominent

druggists of La Porte, Ind., who handle the remedy. It is said Evangelist Moody refused #5,000 to sit for bis photograph.

The "Favorite Prescription" fef Dr., Pierce cures "female weakness" ani kindred affections. By druggists.

Several years ago Senator Ramse# gave his wife the choice of a $000 bloc®* in Minneapolis or a spring bonnet./ Mrs. Ramsey chose the block, which has just been sold for $90,000.

From the Ohl N*rth State.

About four years ago I had what doctors called catarrh, being brought on by exposure to cold weather. They said: it was incurable. I left Wilmington and went to Goldsboro, N. C., and while there an eating sore came on my nose. The doctor whom I consulted called it a cancer. I was uuder treatment of some six or seven physicians, some of them specialists in this line, in Wilmingtou, 1 Goldsboro, Smitbfield, Raleigh and Magnolia, N. C.,bntlcontlnuedtogrow worse all the time. I was in a deplorable condition my nose eaten off, and a hole In my Cheek near my eye. Depressed and disheartened, I returned to Wilmington, I thought to die. One morninp. while reading the Daily Star of this cit. my eye caught the sentence, "I was curof cancer by 8. S. S." This gave m* hope, and I sent at once to the dru store and procured a bottle. I legan feel better from the start, and by thii time I bad taken three bottles the cancer began to heal, and now my nose i* well, and has been for two years, and-1/ attend to business every day. I am" troubled a little sometimes with catarrh, otherwise my health is good.

RKV. J. G. DUKES,

Timekeeper on Atlantic Coast Lii R« R. Wilmington, N. C., Sept.

S\ C., Sept. 25. 1885.

For sale by all druggists. Treatise oi Blood and Skin Disease*. THK SWIFT SPECIFIC Co.. Drawer^ Atlanta, Ga. 157 W. 23d Street, Net York.