Terre Haute Weekly Gazette, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 6 March 1884 — Page 10

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dneU siowiy as went on puzzmig

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uselessly about this mystery which must be very soon solved and I was scarcely ready when the servant returned to tell me that tea was waiting for me. But my curiosity was only to be sharpened. Tea was prepared for me alone, the servant saying that Mr. Rayner was busy, and had his taken into the study. Not a word about Mrs. Rayner—no sign of a pupil So great was my anxiety and curiosity that I forgot how hungry I was, and in a few minutes I had finished my tea, and was standing by the window looking out into the garden.

It was not yet seven o'clock and a bright summer evening. A light breeze had sprang up and was swaying the tops of the trees that grew thickly round the house. On the side of the dining-room a mossy lawn stretched from the roots of the trees right up into the French windows. I had never been in such a beautiful garden before. The grass was soft and springy and well kept there were no stiff beds of geraniums and verbenas, but under the trees and against the house, and wherever there wai a spare corner, grew clumps of Bcotch aiii monthly roses,Canterbury bells, prince's feather and such simple flowers. The house was built on the very border of the marsh, at the bottom of a hill which sloped down, covered with trees, toward the camng-room siae ot cne uuuse. uaue my way round to the front and the moss-grown portico—from here one caught glimpses of the marsh through the thick- trees. I followed a grasspath cut through them, facing the front of the house, until I came to the pond which had excited my admiration from the dog-cart. Here the vegetation grew unchecked. The water was half-covered with smooth, green duckweed and water lilies, MIH the reeds and rushed, which grew tall thick round the margin, had encroached much upon the little sheet of water. The path I had followed was continued through the trees, within a few feet of the pond, to the outer edge of the little wood which in. nosed the bouse and garden there a f«* rough steps over the fence connected it with the footpath along the borders of the marsh, which joined the road at the descent of the hill. This was the short cut by which Mr. Rayner had reached the house before ua that afternoon.

I had turned back toward the garden, and was close to the pond, when I heard a low crooning sound which seemed to come out of the ground at my feet. Looking about, I saw, sitting among the reeds, at the very edge of the water—so close to it that her little shoes kept slipping in the most yielding earth—a tiny elfish-looking child, about two years old, in a dirty white frock and pinafore, with a small, pale, wrinkled face and thin, straight red hair, who rocked herself to and fro and went on with her monotonous chant without seeming at all disturbed by the appearance of a stranger. She only stared at me without altering her position, when I told her that she must not sit so near the water, or she would fall in and be drowned but, when I stooped to pick her up^ihe proved her humanity by screamtajp^ipudly and reproaching me in baby^faigqpge too indistinct for me to understand. I supposed her to be the child of the gardener or of some neighboring cottager, and, not quite knowing what to do with her, I carried her, still screaming, to the house, where I met the servant whom I had already seen.

I found this child sitting with her feet nearly in the pond!" I said, tragically. Oh, yes, Miss, there's no keeping hor away from the pond! She's there pretty nearly all day by herself. Come now, Mona, it's time for you to go to bed. Dirty little girl, look at your pinafore P.

She took the child from me, thankful to have been spared the trouble of hunting and catching the little wild thing, and carried her off, leaving me wondering whether my pupil would be as eerie a creature as her sister. As there was nothing to invite me to stay indoors, I went oat again, this time to explore the side of the house which faoed the marsh. Here the grass grew untrimmed and rank up to' the very walls and, as I made my way through, my feet sank from time to time into little unseen pools and swamps, which •wetted them up to the ankles after a few steps. However, I went on as carefully as I -could, past a tangle of shrubs, yew trees, and straggling briers, until, pushing aside the low-hang-ing branches of a bar berry-tree, I found myself within a few feet of a window so heavily shaded by gnarled and knotty ivy that for a few moments I did not notice a woman's face staring at me intently through the glass. As soon as I caught sight of the sunken face and large lusterless eyes, I knew, by her likeness to'the child at the pond, that this was Mrs. Rayner. I retreated in as leisurely a manner as I could, trying to look as if I had not seen her for there was something in the eager, hopeless stare of her eyes as mine met them which made me feel like a spy. 1 crept back into the house and up to my room, unpacked my boxes, and sat down to write to my mother an account of my journey and arrival. I did not tell her quite all that I had seen, or all the strange impressions t.hia first evening had made upon me. I felt very anxious to communicate them to somebody but my mother was a gentle nervous woman, whom I had already, young as I was, learned to lead, rather than be led by I knew that the least suggestion of mystery would cause her an agony of doubt and anxiety about her child which I could not allay by letter so I contented myself, with a description of the picturesque beauty of the place and ef Mr. Rayner's kindness. I had to finish this by candle-light, and when I had ended, I rose and went to the window to give one more look at the scene under anew aspect. My window, I afterward found, was over the one at which I had seen Mrs. Rayner's face it was high enough from the ground for me to have, through the gaps between the trees, a good vifcw of the marsh and the hills beyond.

A low cry of admiration burst from me as I looked out. Over all the wide expanse of marsh, which seemed to stretch for miles on either hand, lay a white mist, rising only a few feet from the ground, but so thick as to look like a silver lake in the moonlight a range of hills two or three miles off seemed to mark the Opposite shore. The mist was dense under my window, too, on the very grass that I waded through a couple of hours before. As I looked out and tried to imagine little fairy boats in the elders which rose here and there out of the mist-hidden marsh, a shiver passed over me and I drew in my head with a sudden change of thought.

How cold it is! Mr. and Mrs. Rayner must be devoted admits of the pictur­

esque to Jive in a nouse mat muse oe so very damp!" CHAPTER H.

I was down in the dining room the next morning, with the unfailing punctuality of anew comer, at the sound of the breakfastbell, before any one else was there. Mr. Rayner came in in a few minutes, handsome, cheerful, but rather preoccupied and I was listening to his bright small talk with the polite stranger's smile, when I discovered, without having heard any sound, that Mrs. Rayner was in the room. She had glided in like a ghost, and, without more interest in the life around her than a ghost might show, she was standing at the table, waiting. I was thankful to see that there was no trace in her eyes now of the steadfast eager gaze which had disconcerted me on the night before, nothing but the limpest indifference to me io the way in which she held out her hand when her husband introduced me.

She must have been pretty ten years ago," I thought, as 1 looked at her thin face, with the fair faded complexion and dull gray eyes. There was a gentleness about hor which would have been grace still, if she had taken any pains to set off by a little womanly coquetry her slim girMike figure, small, thin hands, and the masses of long brown hair which were carelessly and unbecomingly dragged away from her forehead and twisted up on her head.

Then the door openod, and the servants came in to prayers, with the elfish baby and a pretty, delicate-looking child, blueeyed and fair-haired, who was presented to me before breakfast as Haidee, my pupil.

Nobody talked during the meal but Mr. tiayner, anu tu« omy otuer uuuwauw uuit was the improper behavior of the baby, who kept throwing bits of bread at her father when he was not looking, and aimed a blow with a spoon at him when he passed her chair to cut himself some cold meat. He saw it and laughed at her.

It is a most extraordinary thing, Miss Christie," said he "but that child hates me."

I thought he spoke in fun but, before I had been long at the Alders, I found that it WHS true that tfcis most unpleasant baby's strongest feeling was dislike of her father, though there seemed to be no reason for it, since he never did anything harsher than laugh at her. She would not even take the sweets from his hand.

You do not yet know what primitive people you have come among, Miss Christie," said Mr. Rayner during breakfast.

We dine here at half past one. If we were to suggest late dinner weshculd have wprepare our own food like excommunicated persons. It is hard as it is to keep our modest staff of three servants. They 3ay the place is damp, which, being interpreted, means that it is too far for their young men' in the town to come and see them. Were you not surprised at the wording of my advertisement!"

Yes, Mr. Rayner." "My wife was afraid that it would frighten off niany desirable young ladies by its ogreish abruptness. 'The fact is, the lady who has just left us, quite a typical instructress of forty, with prominent teeth and glasses, nearly frightened our lives out. She wouldn't talk, and my wife wants a cheerful companion and she said she was dying of rheumatism, and threatened to prosecute me for decoying her to sued a damp place. So we registered a solemn vow that we would have nothing to do with hoar antiquity again."

How could she say anything against such a lovely place?" said "Well, now, Miss Christie, I grant she had a show of reason on her side. I have sometimes thought the place damp myself but my wife has got attached to it haven't you, Lola?" "Yes," said she, without a sign of feeling or interest. "And so we remain," he went on. "A lady's wishes must be considered: and there are special reasons why they should be in this case. You must know, Miss Christie, that I am a penniless wretch, dependent on my wife am I not, Lola?" He turned playfully to her.

Not quite that," said she gently, but with no more warmth than before. "Practically I am," he persisted. She was an heiress, I a ruined spendthrift, when she married me. Yet she trusted tne, and the only condition she would allow her friends to make was that I should settle in the country—ot of the reach of temptation, you see, Miss Christie."

He spoke with some feeling, and looked affectionately at his wife at the end of this unexpectedly frank confession but she remained as impassive as ever.

I could not help .feeling rather sorry for Mr. Rayner. He was always kind and attentive to his wife but, whether he was in a bright mood, and tried to make her smile, or, silent, and needing to be roused out of his gravity, she was always the same, limp, nerveless, apathetic, speaking when necessary in a low, soft voice, slowly, with many pauses. She had a habit of letting the last words of a sentence die away on her lips, and then, after a few moments, as if by an effort, she would say them aloud. I soon grew quite afraid of her, started if I met her unexpectedly, and felt more restrained in her presence than if she had been one of those brilliant satirical women who take the color out of tho rest of their sex. Anxious to shake off this strange diffidence, which was beginning to cast a shadow over my life, I offered to read to her when my short hours of study with my pupil were over.

She accepted my offer, and I went into the drawing-room that very afternoon and read her some chapters of Adam Btdty while she sat in a rocking-chair with a piece of embroidery, making slow progress in the thin white fingers. I stopped at the end of each chapter, waiting for the comment which never came, and rather hoping for some little compliment upon my reading, an accomplishment I took pride in. But she only said Thank you," very gently, and, when I asked her if I should go on, "Yes, if it will not tire you."

Presently I found out that she was not listening, except for a few moments at a time, but that she was sitting with her hands in her lap, listlessly playing with her embroidery, while her eyes were fixed on the garden outside, with a deep sadness in them which contrasted strangely with her usual apathetic indifference to all things. Still I read on, pretending not to notice her mood, until such a heavy despairing sigh broke from her pale lips that my heart beat fast for pity, and 1 involuntarily stopped short in my reading, and raised my eyes, with tears in them, to hers. She started, and turning toward me, seemed to hold my eyes for a moment fixed on hers by the fascination of a gaze which seemed anxious to penetrate to the deepest recesses of my thoughts. A little color came to her cheeks~ I could see her breast heaving through the muslin gown she wore she half stretched out one hand toward me, and in another I fcelissre she would

IHE TERRE HAtWE IPBEKLY GA2fflXVL

nave cauea me ner siae, wnen a voice from behind her chair startled us both. Mr. Rayner had entered the room so softly that we had not heard him.

You look tired, my dearest Lola," said he, gently "you had better go and lie down for a little while."

At the sound of her husband's voice Mrs. Rayner had shrunk back into her usual statuesque self, like a sensitive plant touched by rough fingers—so quickly too that for a moment I almost thought, as I glanced at the expressionless face, that I must have imagined the look of despair and the gesture of invitation. I timidly offered to read her to sleep, but she declined at once, almost abruptly for her, and, with some conventional thanks for my trouble, took the arm her husband held out, thanked him as he carefully*1 wrapped round her a little shawl that she generally wore, and left the room with him.

Alter tnat, ner reserve cowara me was greater than ever she seemed reluctant to accept the smallest service of common courtesy at my hands, and refused my of fers to read to her again, under the plea that it was wasting my time, as she was hardly well enough to listen with full attention. I was hurt as well as puzzled by this and, being too young and timid to make any further advances, the distance between me and the silent lady grew greater than ever.

An attempt that Mr. Rayner made two days after the above scene to draw us together Only sent us farther apart. He came into the school-room just as Haidee and I were finishing the day's lessons, and, after a few playful questions about her studies, dismissed her into the garden. "The child is very like her mother in face don't you think so," said he. "But I am afraid she will never have her mother's strength of intellect. I see you can not help looking surprised, Miss Christie. My wife does not give the airs of a clever woman. But you would not have doubted it if you had known her five years ago."

He was in one of those moods of almost embarassing frankness, during which the only thing possible was to sit and listen quietly, with such sparing comment as would content him.

I dare say," he continued, it will seem almost incredible to yoti, who have never heard her say more than is absolutely necesseary, but she was one of the most brilliant talkers I have ever met, and four years ago she wrote a book which took London by storm. If I were to tell you the nom de plume under which she wrote, you would be afraid of her, for it became at ohce a sort of proverb for daring thought and expression. People who did not know her made a bogy of her, and many people who did looked with a sort of superstitious awe upon this slight fair woman who dared to write out what she thought and believed. But they had no idea what a sensitive nature lay under the almost masculine in* telleet. We had a boy then"—his voice seemed to tremble a little—"two years elder than Haidee. The two children had been left in the country—in the best of care, mind—while my wife and I spent the season in town it was a duty she owed to society then, as one of its brightest ornaments. We heard that the boy was not well but we had no idea that his illness was serious. I assure you, Miss Christie" —and he spoke with touching earnestness that, if my wife had known there was the slightest danger, she would have flown to her child's side without a thought of the pleasures and excitements she was leaving. Well—I can scarcely speak of it even now —the child died, after only two days' illness, away from us. It was on her return from a ball that my wife heard of it. She sank down in a chair, dumb and shivering, without a word or a tear. When at last we succeeded in rousing her from this state, she took off her beautiful jewels—you have heard she was an heiress—and flung them from her with a shudder of disgust. She has never looked at them since."

He paused for a few minutes, and I sat waiting for him to continue, too much interested to say much.

I hoped that the depression into which she sank would wear off but, instead, it only grew deeper. I have told you before that by an arrangement on our marriage our settled home was in the country after her boy's death, my wife would never even visit town again. When Mona was born, just before we came to this place, a change came, but not the change I had expected. I had hoped she would reawaken to interest in life, and perhaps, if the child had been a boy to replace the one she had lot ., it would have been so. Instead of that, her apathy deepened, until now, as you see, she shuts herself from all the world and raises a barrier between herself and the life! around her, which to strangers is often insurmountable. I have been looking for an opportunity to tell you this, Miss Christie, as I was afraid you might have been puzzled, and perhaps offended, by her strange manner the other day when you were reading to her. When I came in, I thought you looked frightened, and I supposed that something you had read had recalled the grief which is always slumbering at her heart, and perhaps led to one of those outbreaks which sometimes cause me the gravest, the very gravest anxiety."

I understood what he meant but I would not allow myself to appear alarmed by the suggestion. Mr. Rayner went on— "I fancied I caught sight of a wild look in her eyes, which is sometimes called up in them by a reference to the past, or even by a sudden vivid flash of memory. At such times only I, with the power of my long tried affection, can calm her instantly. Do not imagine that she would ever be violent, but she might be incoherent enough to frighten you. Tell me, had she said anything that day before I came in which alarmed or puzzled you!" "No, Mr. Raynor she scarcely spoke while I read to her."

Was there anything in what you were reading likely to call up memories of the dreadful time to which I have alluded

I think not. No—none." "I need not warn yen, my dear Miss Christie, to avoid all reference to that subject, or anything that might suggest it, in t*llring to her, but of course without any appearance of constraint. And I am sure such a sensible girl as you are will not take needless fright at this unhappy disclosure, which I thought it safer to make to you, trusting in your discretion. I still hope that in time she may recover her old health and spirits, consent to see people, and even move away from this place few a little change, which I am sure would do her good. I have begged her to do so over and over again, always unsuccessfully. I can not bear to be harsh to her but there an iron strength of resistance in that woman of strong intellect and weak frame which, I confess, even I have not yet been able to overcome. If you will aflovr me to advise you, do not mention that subject either to her. One of my reasons for wishing for a young governess was that I migh provide her in an unobtrusive manner witl cheerful society and let her get accustomed to seeing a bright young face abeet her

but 1 am axraia ner oosunste rwems on so far defeated my object. However, I dont despair. Now that you know something of her history, you are more likely to sympathize with her and to make some allowance for her seeming coldness. Believe me, underneath all she has a warm heart still. And I am sure you will spare a little sympathy for me, condemned to see the wife I adore living «, shut-up life, as it were, seeming to ignore the undying affection of which she must still be conscious."

There was something so winning in his voice and manner as he said these last words that I felt for the moment even more sorry for him than for her, and I took the hand he held out as he rose to go, and looked up with all the frank sympathy I felt. He seemed touched by it, for, as if by a sudden impulse, he stooped and let his lips lightly touch my hand then, pressing it once more in his, with a look of almost grateful kindness, he left the room.

I was a little surprised by this demonstration, which I thought rather out of place to a dependant. But be was an impulsive man, the very opposite in all things to his cold, statuesque wife, and the union between them seemed sometimes like a bond between the dead and the living.

When I thought over aU that he had told me, after he had left the room, it was impossible, even setting apart my natural inclination as a woman to put the blame on the woman, not to come to the conclusion that the fault in this most unfortunate household was chiefly on the side of Mrs. Rayner. I had never seen a more attentive, long-suffering husband, nor a more coldly irritating wife. From all I had seen I judged that Mr. Rayner was a sociable man, particularly alive to sympathy, fond of conversation and the society of his fellow men. To such a man the sort of exile his wife's obstinate reserve and dislike to society condemned him to must have been specially hard to bear with patience. It was true he scoffed at the society the neighborhood afforded, and made me laugh by his description of a country dinner party, where one could almost predict with certainty what each lady would wear, and where more than half the gentlemen were clergymen, and how the talk would drift after dinner into clerical "shop," aftd one of the ladies would play a colorless drawingroom piece on the piano, and one of the gentlemen—a curate nearly always—would ulng an unintelligible song, in a husky voice, and, when told—by a lady—how well it suited his style, would reply modestly that Santley's songs always did.

But I fancied that, dull as it might be, Mr. Rayner would have been glad of more of even such society as the neighborhood afforded, and, from the bitterness with which he laughed at the paltry pride of •mall country gentlemen, I soon began to Imagine that he must have been snubbed by some among them.

The first Sunday after my arrival was so wet that we could not go to church, so that I had been there a fortnight before I saw a general gathering of the inhabitants. But on the very day previous to this event 1 had an encounter with two of the ladies of the neighborhood which left a most unpleasant impression upon my mind. Haidee and I were ta'-i "T our morning walk, when a big Newf m.it id dog rushed through a gap in th iicdge and frightened my poor little pu^il so much that she began to scream. Then a young girl of about fourteen or fifteen, to whom the dog belonged, came up to the hedge, and said that she was sorry he had frightened the child, but that he would not hurt her. And she and I, having soothed Haidee, exchanged a little talk about the field and her dog, and where the first blackberries were to be found, before we parted, my pupil and I going on by the road while the girl remained in the field. We were only a few steps away when I heard the voice of another girl addressing her rather sharply.

Who was that you were talking to, Alice?" The answer was given in a low Voice. "Well," the other went on, "you should not have spoken to her. Don't you know 6he comes from the house on the marshf"

CHAPTER IIL

The shock given me by those few overheard words—" You should not have spoken to her. Don't you know she comes from the house on the marsh?"—was so great that I lay awake half the night, at first trying to reconcile Mr. Rayner's pathetic story with the horror of everything connected with the Alders expressed by the girl to her companion, and then asking myself whether it would be wise to stay in a house to which it was plain that a mystery of some sort wss clinging. At last, when my nerves were calmed somewhat and I began to feel sleepy, I made up my mind to set down those unlucky words as the prejudiced utterance of some narrow-minded country girl, to whom the least touch of unconventionally seemed a dreadful thing. However, I could not dismiss the incident at once from my mind, and the remembrance of it sharpened my attention to the manner of the salutations that Mr. Rayner exchanged with his neighbors the next day.

Although Geldham church was only a short distance from the Alders, Mrs. Rayner was not strong enough to walk, so she and her husband drove there ina brougham, while Haidee and I went on foot. We started before them, and Mr. Rayner was carefully helping his wife out of the carriage as we got to the gate. There was nothing noticeable in the way in which they bowed to one person, shook hands with another, exchanged a few words with a third then we all went into the little church, which had been erected but a few years, and of which one aisle was still unbuilt.

There was a square family pew just in front of ours, which was empty when we took our seats but, when I rose from my knees, I found fixed upon me, with a straightforward and not very friendly stare, the round gray eyes of a girl two or three years older than myself, whom I recognized as the owner of the voice which had said of me, Don't you know she comes from the house on the marsh?" By her side, therefore also facing me, was the younger sister, with whom I had talked she avoided meeting my eyes, and looked rather uncomfortable. As for me, I felt that I hated them both, and was glad when the gentleman who was evidently their father changed his position so that he almost hid them from my sight. Next to him sat a stout lady, who wore a black silk mantle covered with lace and beads and a white bonnet trimmed with yellow bows and unlikely clusters of roses. My heart sank curiously when I caught sight of the third person in the row, at the further end of the pew. It was Mr. Laurence Reade, my friend of the dog-cart and I felt as if a trusted ally had suddenly proved te he an officer in my enemy's camp. Having fo«ndmyself in an uncongenial household, I had famrd to esadna andn. at boom*

time or other, the only person I had me since I came to Norfolk to whom no associ* ations of mystery or melancholy were attached. And now to meet him with thos« horrid girls! He *ras their brother evidently, for the elder harpooned him sharply with her sunshade several times for dozing during the service but, when the sermon began and he had settled himself sideways in the corner with the plain intention of sleeping through the entire discourse, and the devout girl made a desperate lunge at him to rouse him once for all, he quietly took the weapon from her and kicked it under the seat. I rejoiced at this, and so missed the text, which was given out dur-' ing the struggle. And then I missed a' great deal of the sermon, for I was growing unhappy in my new home, and, as the preaching of one clergyman, especially if you hre not listening particularly, sounds much like the preaching of another, it was easy to shut my eyes and fancy myself sitting with mother in church at home in Loudon. Presently, happening to glance round me, I caught sight of Mr. Laurence Reade in the corner of the next pew, with his arms folded, his legs crossed, and his head thrown back and, if it had not been so very unlikely, I should have thought that he was not really asleep, but that through his half-shut eyelids he was looking at me.

When the sermon was over, and we filed out of church, I noticed that old Mr. Reade exchanged a few words with Mr. Rayner rather 6tiffly, whild the two girls deliberately turned their heads away from us. But Mr. Laurence Reade hung back behind the rest of his family, and stooped to speak to llaidee, who was holding my band. He asked her to give him a kiss, and she refused—and I was very glad. Of course it was my duty to rebuke her for rudeness, and to tell her to accept the attention with gratitude but, instead, I looked carefully the other way and pretended not to be aware of the little comedy.

Oh, Haidee, you shouldn't, turn away from your friends I" said he, in his musical voice, with rather more of'prut- r.-j roach than the occasion required—to a child.

Mr. Rayner was on the churchyard path a little way in front of us, talking to the schoolmaster, the clergyman, and two or three of the gentlemen of tfte parish. He was trying to persuade them to start a penny bank, and was pointing out to them the encouragement it would give to nabits of thrift, and offering to take most of the trouble of starting it into his own hands.

The $pirit of inactivity ruled at Geldham there was no energetic curate to scandalize people by insisting that to doze through one sermon a week was but a negligent way of caring for their souls the last vestry-meeting had dwindled into a spelling-bee, at which the doctor had been ruled oat for putting only one t" in committee," and had gone home vehemently affirming thci his was the right way, and that of the schoolmaster, his colleagues, and the dictionary, wrong.

It was curions to note now hbw they all listened coldly at first, with an aversion to the proposal, strengthened by their dislike to the man who proposed it, and how overcome by an irresistible charm in his manner of arguing as much as by arguments themselves, they one by one from listless became interested, and not only agreed to the scheme being started, but to take each some small share in setting it on foot. Then, partfag cordially from the man they had gi'eetsd so coldly, they all dispersed and Mr. Rayner, handsome, bright, pleased with his little triumph, turned to his wife and led her to the carriage, while Haidee and I returned as we came—on foot.

He was very severe indeed upon rustic wits and rustic governors during dinner, calling them sheep and donkeys and other things. Then he grew merry and made jokes about them, and I laughed and finding in me an appreciative listener, his spirits rose still higher, and I thought before' dinner wu over that I had never heard any one talk more amusingly. I think Mrs. Rayner made only one remark, and that was when I was furtively wiping some tears of laughter from my eyes she asked me—

Do you care to go to church this afternoon, Miss Christie I suppose I looked rather snubbed, for Mr. Rayner broke in—

Poor rirl, how frightened you look at the thought! Know then, Miss Christie, that it is not one of the conditions of residence under this moist but hospitable roof that you should trudge backward and forward to church all Sunday, with intervals of pious meditation. We never go ourselves more that once. Our last governess did, because she liked it, not because she was 'druv to it,' I assure you and I doift suppose, I don't even hope, that tho excellent Miss Parker's mantel has fallen on your quarter-of-a-century-younger shoulders."

But I had quickly made up my mind that I had better go. Indeed, I liked going to church and, even if I had not acquired the taste already, the dullness of the Sunday before—which I had spent in the drawing-room with Mrs. Rayner and Haidee, hearing my pupil repeat one of the Thirty-nine Articles, which I was sure she did not understand, and which I myself did not understand well enough te explain to her, and stifling my yawns for the rest of the time behind Goulburn's Personal Religion—would have made me love it. So I said I should like to go, and they said that there was no afternoon service at Geldham, but Mr. Rayner told me the way to the church at Gullingborough, the next parish, which was not far off.

It was a sultry summer afternoon, with a heavy clouded sky, but it ivas pleasant to be out of doors, and it was pleasant tobe alone for I found the society of little Haidee, whose shyness and reserve with me had not worn off yet, rather depressing sometimes—I had even cried a little at night over the difficulty had in mniring the child fond of me. So that to be quite alone and out of the somber atmosphere of the Alders was a relief. I passed the gates of a park, among the trees of which I saw a big square house surrounded by a flower garden and a little further on I saw an American chair on the grass, under the park trees, and a young man in a light suit, with a cravat hanging loose, and his hat off, lying atfuU length in it. He had a cigar in his mouth and a gaudy-covered book in his hand, and on a rustic table beside him was a half-empty glass containing some liquid, and I could see that there was ice in it. Of course I only glanced that way, but I recognized the gentlemen as Mr. Laurence Reade and I could not help wiil'ig to myself as I went on. He saw me, I think, for he started up and coughed but I was looking the other way, and I thought it best not to hear him. As I turned the angle of the park, I glanced again at the white house, and I saw, with a little surprise, Mr. Reade running toward it a-nt. nhureh in verv oood time. and.

fcstag given a seat in the chapel, 1 coult watch tile country people as they filed in •ftd just as the last wheezy sound of the was dying away before service began,

Laurence Reade, having

exchanged

his

it for church-going attire, strode middle aisle and banged the of his pew upon himself. 'And, reing how nice the iced drink looked, how cozy the arm-chatr appeared, I it did him great credit to come to the second time. a sky had grown very dark by the ssrvices were over, and the occasional of distant thunder threatened a

A few heavy drops fell as I stepped Of the church door, and my heart sank thought of the ruin a good shower would work upon my best gown, a light gray merino. It was nearly half an hour's walk to the Alders my way lay along Un» and across fields Where there was little or no shelter, and my umbrella was a •mall one. However, there was nothing to be done but to start, hoping that, the storm might not break with any violence before I got home. 1 had left all chance of shelter well behind me, when the rain came pouring down like sheets of water, with a sharp hissing sound which made ipy heart sink within me. I stopped, gathered up my skirt around me, gave a glance round to see that no one was in sight, being aware that my appearance would be neither graceful nor decorous, and then ran for my life. Before I had gone many yards, I hdard some one running after me, and then Mr. Reade's voice calling, Miss Christiel" I ran on without heeding him, ashamed of my plight but he would not take the rebuff, and in a few more steps he had caught me up, and taking away my small umbrella, was holding his large one over me. He opened a gate to the right that led into afield with a rough cart-track alongside the hedge.

But this is the wrong way. I have to turn to the left, I know," said I. "There is a shed for carts here where we shall get shelter," said he.

And in a few minutes we reached it, and I found myself sitting under a low roof on the red shaft of & cart, watching the downpoor outside, while Mr. Reade shook the raii from our umbrellas. A few days before I might have found 'something to enjoy in this curious encounter with my friend of the dog-cart, but the rudeness and suspicion of his sisters had made me shy with him. So I merely sat there and looked straight in front of n^e, while he, infected by my reserve, leant against the side of the shed and looked at me. I could see—as one sees so many things, without looking—the rain-drops falling one by one from the low roof on to bis hat but' I would not tell him of it.

Things went on like this for some minutes until a bright flash of lightning dazsled me and made me cry Oh!" "You are frightened. Let me stand in front of you," said my companion, starting forward. "Oh, no, thank you—I am not nervous!" I replied, contemptuously, when a loud peal of thunder startled me so much that I nearly fell off my seat.

He said nothing, did not even smile at my crestfallen look but he took up his stand in front of me, giving me a fine view of his profile against the dark sky. Every minute of this awkward silence was making it more difficult for me to think of something to say.

I wish it would leave off," I remarked stupidly, at length. Are you in such a harry to get back to the Aldersf It is no drisr there than it

But at least one cii change onafr boots" "Have you got your feet wet? Why, you have on little toy town-boots, not fit to walk down a country lane in! You will be laid up with rheumatic fever, or something of the kind," said he anxiously, looking vaguely about him for dry boots.

Oh, no, no—they are much thicker than they look!" said "It isn't that. But Mr. Rayner will be anxious." "Mr. Rayner and Mrs. Rayner, wont she be anxious too!" "Oh, Mrs. Rayner is never anything! At least—I mean," said I, annoyed at having spoken without thinking, she is so reMrvod t.h

That you like Mr. Rayner bestP I "Oh, yeB!" I He drew himself up rather coldfyC I

So do most ladies, I believe." "One cant help liking a person who talks and laughs, and is bright and kind, better than one who never speaks, and glides about like a ghost, and looks coldly at you if you speak to her," I burst out, apologetically at first, but warming into vehemence toward the close of my speech.

Perhaps she means to be kind," said he gently. '"liien she ought to make her meaning plainer. She can't think it is kind to fix her eyes upon me as if I were something not human, if I laugh, to give me her hand so coldly and unreeponsively that it seems like a dead hand in mine, and at other times to take no more notice of me than if I were not there. Besides, she knows that it is the first time I have ever left home, and she must see sometimes that I am not happy."

Mr. Reade suddenly stooped toward me, and then straightened himself again just as suddenly, without any remark but he cleared his throat. 1 remembered that I had no right to make thi« confession to a comparative stranger, and I added quickly— "I ought not to talk as if I were illtreated. I am not at alL If she would only not be quite so cold!" "Perhaps her own troubles are very heavy and hard to bear." "Oh, no, they are not!" I replied confidently. At least she had a kind husband and a pretty home, and everything one can wish for.. And I think it is very selfish of her to give herself up to brooding over the memory of her dead child, instead of trying to please her living husband."

Her dead child!" "Yes. She had a boy who died some years ago, and she has never got over it. That-, io wtiv ahA in an mmrved." [The continuation of this story caa be found in the Saturday and Weekly editions ot the Gantro. It will richly repay perusal. If you are in the city and wish to leave before 4 o'clock, it san be had together with all news up to that hour in the 2 o'clock edition of baturday's daily.]

Wkea I« Lasgsr Worts wsua (Exchange.] Rev. Thomas K. Beecfaer, of ELmirm, wm understood, from a communication to Th« Gaasttsb to be a champion of the justifiability of suicide under certain eircumstanees. H* writes now, in suhstanoe, that when it is d» trained by an individual, with the appveve) ef his friends, that it is "no longer worth while to 4rift about ea Mi riaful planet," he Is justified "in saving tata the »e