Newspaper Page Text
VOLUME I.
THE INDEPENDENT.
SATURDAY, J AWT A KIT to. IRT4.
J. C. GALLAHER. Editor and Proprietor.
ftMt>l&t*rl Weekly nt S‘4 041 prr Annum
In Advancr.
Copic-M 5 f ns.
NKAUIVU THE SIIORK.
An rl<s man sit* in & worn arm chair.
White m suow is bin thin, Mult hair,
¥>rrowod hia cheek by tiiue Aik* care,
And back and forth it • ;
There’* * fkr away form in thi* ctm, dim eve,
Which tell* of thought* of the hmg gone by,
For he Mtu on oo more ’neath a c6mkkMmni sky,
And in childhood merrily plays.
Ho rests hia cheek on the head of hia cane.
And happily smiling dr* ruts over again
Of that nom®, the brook, the meadow, the lane,
Dreams all with a vision clear :
Then childhood yields ttuto manhood’* place.
And he l ok* once more in his bright, bright
face.
And down in the starry eyes he can trace
▲ love remember ed and dear.
Then lie wakes and sighs: *Tt eems but a
dream
That semes to me now like a golden gleam,
Or the shimmering glow of the siu’ last beam,
Hot tin pleasant to think it o’er;
That youth ww so sweet, but now is past,
Those <lavw of tore was too precious to last,
Bat over vender their pleasures are cast,
And I am nearing that shore.
He is gliding on in his little boat,
O'er the calm, still water they peacefully float,
But echo full oft brings t well known note
From the land he has left belaud.
But time will row back for him no more,
And be gaze* away to that other shore,
And know s when the voyage of life shall be o’er
That his dream beyond he will fiud.
The seeds of youth which in vouth wo bow,
Adewn through the isles of the future will glow
Ami shed on age a beautiful glow
As they come in memory’s gleams.
Loved faces will come to dimming sight:
Hwe>*t word* will who in day dreams bright,
And circle old age with their halos of light ,
As they mmglt: in beautifill dreams.
JUST IN TIME!
A STOIt Y,
two WING WHERE ETHEL MERTHIEIOB
PASSED CHRISTMAS EYE
CHAPTER I.
It was tlie custom of the men staying at
Ballasmere Towers to proceed to the bil
liard room after dinner; the ladies joining
them when coffee was served there, and
usually remaining to amuse themselves for
h little while before all adjourned to the
drawing room. The first pool was just
being.concluded on a certain evening in
October 186-, when the sound of rustling
dresses and merry laughter announced
their approach; and headed by Lady Hu
thern, they entered the room.
You might have marched long before
yon found a better looking set of girls than
the new arrivals; uad perhaps the prettiest
of the number was the little blonde who
crossed the room and joined a young man
who waslcanijigagiuustthe chimney piece,
stroking his m uafaehe and carelessly
Watching (he game.
A somewhat troubled expression which
had settled on his brow passed away, nml
very tenderly lie looked down on her
smiling face —the face which had b eu his
own but a v ry" few weeks. “Well, little
woman,” he said, “and wliat have you
been doing ? Boring the people with son
atas or playing the new piece—what is it
called ?—‘Whistling Cock Sparrows ?’ ”
"No, sir, it is not! It's ‘Warbling
Nightingales!' ”
“Well, ‘Wobbling Nightingales,’ if you
prefer it; I knew' it was something orni
Biological.
“I want to talk to yon, Howard,” said
she, after replying to his impertinence by
a look which was meant to express con
tempt, but contained too large a prepon
derance of smile to lie successful; “you
must please come into the drawing-room
With me.*’
Howanl Merthleigli obediently followed
liis young wife; and having seated himself
on a settee by her side, she commenced:
“I have been talking to Mr. Bedford,
dear; and he says I ought to speak to you
about money matters.”
“Mr. Bedford is a bore !” lie replied.
“Mr. Bediord is a dear old man, and
would never call the pretty pieces his wife
played by ridiculous names, sir. But se
riously, Howard, he says that the shares in
the Peruvian mine—isn't it ?—have been
going up, or going down, or—doing some
thing that they should not do, and yon
ought to look into it."
“Into the mine
“Into tho matter, sir.”
“Don’t worry your little head about it,
dear. My money is perfectly safe so long
as it ia under old Thornton’s care. When
my poor governor left it to me, I may al
most say he left me old Thornton to man
age it, also. He was a very great friend of
my father’s and he lias known me all my
life. His wife says she used to nurse me
when I was a baby, and 1 dare say it was
very nice at that time, and I shall always
be much obliged to her, if she doesn’t
want to do it now. Thornton has a musty
little office in a dark, little by-street in the
middle of the city, which, by itself, is cal
culated to inspire confidence. All great
city swells have dirty little offices in inac
cessible courts. Wo won’t say anything
about his son Edgar, will we ? or about
his being violently in lova with a certain
young person ?”
“No. we won’t; because the certain
vonng person had determined to throw
herself away on another unworthy object.
Didn't you once say that yon had some
money in the hunk of England ?”
*‘Yes, dear.”
“How much ?’*
“Between £3,000 and £4,000.”
“Doesn’t that what they call ‘bring
something in ?’ ”
“Yes you vague child; it what they call
brings in about £IOO a year.”
“Oh Howard, isn't that very little ? Do
you know, I believe the clerks and people
at the bank have found oftt that you don’t
understand anything about money matters
and don’t give yon enough ! Do you think
that is it ?”
“It never occurred tome in that light
before, dear. I have hitherto had the
greatest confidence in the integrity of the
governor and company of the Bank of
England.” he replied.
“You are laughing at me sir ! I know
you do read such things as the papers,
though. But how much money have yon
got ?”
“Four pounds, seventeen shillings and
six pence,” he replied, searching his pock
ets and displaying the amount “unless that
half crown is a bad one, as I strongly sus
pect it is.”
TUTU TNTWPin 1 MUUMT
JL Ji I I—-JeL jL. J& Jr J. —i-li.. -ii n Jl.. -J .._*d .A- > J— ©
“I don’t mean that. Why are you so
ilipid ?" she replied, stamping an im
patient little foot.
"For the same reason that Dr. Watts'
dogs delight to bark and bite, I suppose,
dear, it is my nature to. But seriously, I
don’t know what notion ym have got into
your sapient little head, 'sit I’ll tell you
all about it. I have £l,>.Al a year from
the new shares —the worn money, as it was
before invested, only brought in £l,loo—
say £IOO from the Hank of England:
that’s £1.700 a year. Bedford distrusts
young Thornton's ’enteness; but though
lie certainly has a good deal to do with
the management of the bit -mess, I’m sure
he does not hing imports] < without con
sulting his father. The . ..res are certain
to be all right in adny or hvo,though Bed
ford is correct in saying hat they don't
look very rosy at-present.”
Ethel * soon satisfied, and was ex
pressing herself to that < et, when a ser
vant entered with letters for her husband;
and she settled down to h . r the nows af
ter rewarding him for hi, explanation in
th. ..uuuer ■ woiild-not lyip JEmt bl~
any'one been in the room.
“From Frank Harvey," he said glancing
through tlie firs’; “he has passed his ex
amination for the Civil Service— Bays he
couldn't have held on two days longer; he
was crammed so full of knowledge that he
must certainly have blown up if the exam
ination had boon postponed. That’s a—-an
arithmetical problem submitted by a
friend.” Tlie problem consisted of a
long column of figures and many refer
ences to “Melton,” “Saxony,” “Angola”
and other mysterious words.
“You don't like arithmetic, do yon ?"
Ethel inquired.
“Not of this sort. ”
“It requires a great deal of patience, 1
always thought.”
“My friend agrees with you, I have no
doubt," Howard replied. “An invitation
to l’owysford Court; we can’t go. Ah,
here i< a letter from Thornton;” and lie
tore open the envelope very hastily.
A certain prerot/niive seemed to tell him
that something was wrong. Mr. Bedford,
tile old friend who had spoken to Ethel
that evening, had several times earnestly
cautioned him against the investment In
had been induced to make; but Howard
placed all confidence in Thornton, and
never troubled himself about business;
lounging easily in a good humored way
through the world, perfectly contented so
long as the Touug girt he lmd so recently
made his wife was happy.
“What does lie say ?” asked she.
He said the worst; and when Howard
had picked the truth from the host of re
grets and words of hitter self-accusation
in which it was wrapped up, lie saw that
the result was simply ruin.
“How serious you look, darling ! Is any
one ill ?” Ethel inquired, in an anxious
tone.
“No, Ethel, no one is ill, but I have
received some very bail news. I will tell
yon about, it in the morning. I must go
anil find Reginald. Go to bed and don’t
ask questions now, my little girl.” He
spoke very tenderly, and poor Ethel, who
had never before seen such a troubled
look on her husband’s handsome face,
n< pt up stairs will, an anxious heart ami
sobbed herself to sleep.
Next morning Howard and his c r.sin,
Sir Reginald Hatliern, the master of Bab
lasmere Toweis, walked to and fro on the
grovel walk in front of the house. Before
them .stretched the park, thickly covered
with grand old trees, the leaves w hich still
dung on their parent stem showing a won
drous wealth of color, made more resplen
dent by the bright sunshine; hilt neither
of the young men was in a frame of mind
to think much of the scene.
“No, old fellow,” Howard said, in an
swer to a proposition which his cousin had
made; “what you suggest is simply an ex
cuse for giving me the money. But I must
do something for myself.”
"What ?” curtly asked his cousin.
“That’s the question. I should, I
think, prefer a public life of some sort ’’
“The Lord Chancellorship, for exam
ple,” said Sir Reginald, who was hurt that,
the offers of assistance which he hail made
hail not keen accepted. He aixl Howard
had been companions at Eton and at
Cambridge, anil were more like brothers
than cousins.
“Not quite,” Howard said. “What
chance has one of success on the stage?”
“If one were'a good-looking girl, with
no objection to going a step nearer to the
costume of our first parents than her sis
tersjp art have gone, one, might obtain a
livelihood,” replied Reginald.
“Bnt for me, who can only counterbal
ance those attractions by a tolerably good
education and a great liking for the pro
fession ?”
“A hundred young fellows with similar
qualifications are working in the provinces
earn five-and-twentv shillings a week;
which is paid them when the treasury is
sufficiently full to bear such a drain on its
resources. ”
"What about singing? That Italian
tenor we met in town said some very kind
things about my voice. There’s stock in
trade; what more does a man want ?”
“Customers and an opportnny of ex
hibiting Ilia wares. No, I don’t mean to
say that voice and musical knowledge are
not very desirable things in a singer, but
the possession of them does not insure
success by any means. How about Ethel’s
chancery business ?"
“What, the £80,000? I should be ex
tremely glad to take, £Boofor the chance.”
“Well, if you decline my offer, I will go
to town and talk to Carton about it. I
fancy a lawyer is the most likely person to
give advice. ”
“Thanks. I shall not mind working,
and would rather eat the bread of careful
ness than dependence—even when it’s
yonrs, dear old Regy. You won’t blame
me ?” and he held out his hand to his
eonsin, who shook it warmly; and then
Howard went into the house to find Ethel.
To take a little house at Richmond for
headquarters; to dream away the summer
days, floating lazily down the sunny stream
in a little boat—
With indolcDt ftnyi-rs fretting the tide.
And an indolent arm around a darling waist
a short tour to some unfrequented little
town in the sunny South, and then, when
winter came, to go from one pleasant
country house to another to meet old
friends and experience those enjoyments
which are to be met with nowhere else—
this was the picture Howard and Ethel
had formed of married life; but the result
was far different.
How true it is that “every gate is
thronged with suitors, opens hut to gol
den keys,” grows daily more apparent;
and Howard would have had small chance
of finding a market for such labor as he
QUITMAN, (I V., SATURDAY, JANUARY 10, 1874.
could offer, if lie had not been fortunate
enough to command strong influence. A
j hope hail dawned on his mind that the
failure might prove less disastrous than
Thornton had at first represented; but an
interview with the old man soon dissipated
this, and it became very apparent that he
must augment his wofully reduced means
by hard work; for he was soon convinced
how futile were all ideas of success in the
paths he had at first proposed. Carton,
his cousin’s lawyer, had obtained an ap
pointment for him in the city, by which
he was enabled to add auother £‘2oo ft year
to his little fortune; and so the seat in the
gently gliding boat of which he had
; dreamed was exchanged for one in a prim
room near the Mansion House, and his
arms were far from indolent.
Howard had never dreamed of working,
and his daily labors were terribly mono
tonous and tedious; but regrets for what
his carelessness had brought on Ethel
absorbed every other feeling. She, poor
little girl, found Bayswater lodgings very
dull and dreary after the luxurious exis
tenoe to which she hart been accustomed.
Books were less interesting than formally
and music less cheering; and the slatternly
servant, so different from the spruce, trim
maids she was used to have about her.
absolutely made her shudder.
“Have something nico for luncheon,
dear,” was the practical consolation which
Howard suggested, as ho departed the first
day to “business,” and Ethel took heart
at one o’clock to ring the hell and ask for a
cutlet, remembering the pints which the
chr/ at Ballasmere was in the habit of
sending up in answer to similar requests.
Surely the gory flap of meat which pres
ently made its appearance was not a cutlet ?
At any rote, it destroyed Ethel's appetite
for the rest of the day.
But although the clocks did creep on at
n pace they had never adopted until very
lately, the hands reached five at last; and
then Howard appeared, the dear old insou
ciant smile on his face, so unlike a business
man; and again, as of yore, music was
soothing, for lie turned the pages, and she
was fain to admit that editors had not for
med.a conspiracy to keep everything inter
esting from their pages, for he read to her.
Theatres, too, were still amusing, although
certainly, cabs did rattle abominably and
were very different from the easy carriages
in which she had hitherto been whirled
about. Yes. the evenings were very
happy; and Howard’s head, which ached
from bending over his dull task, grew
suddenly well when Ethel’s lips had
touched his forehead, or. if the pain was
not quite charmed away by that pleasant,
remedy, he did not complain, lest the
knowledge should mar the happiness of
his tenderhearted little wife. Perhaps at
times each of them thought with a sigh
of the happy picture they had formed
which was not realized; hut this life had
its pleasures also, and had it been destined
that they should continue in it they might
have been very happy.
Visitors rarely appeared at the house,
but there was one who was very constant
in his attendance. It was Edgar Thorn
ton; and scarcely n dsy passed that he d'd
not find his way to Bayswater to call on
Ethel. Very profuse was lie in his regrets
lor what had occurred; very bitterly did
he condemn his own rashness and wilful
ness. taking (very properly) all the blame
on his own shoulders and absolving
his father; for Edgar Thornton had a
game to play, and this was. lie thought,
tlie way to play it. The confidence which
Howard placed in Mr. Thornton was well
bestowed; and so, indirectly, he placed it
tdso in Edgar, who abused it as such "
thorough paced rogue as he was certain to
do. So he called daily, taking a humble
offering in the shape of a bouquet or some
choice fruit, and treated Mrs. Merthleigli
with most respectful attention. And
Et hel ? Howard had hinted at Ballasmere
of love between them in the old days be
fore her marriage; but if there ever had
been any it had most certainly been all
on his side. She had always instinctively
shrunk from him, feeling by that intuitive
knowledge which pure women possess,
that lie was not a good man. But she
had struggled hard to overcome the feel
ing, not liking, poor little girl, to think
ill of any one; and so, fearing she had
done him injustice, she tried to he very
polite and as cordial as possible to him.
The presence, too, of any one who knew
Howard was pleasant to her; especially
when, as had recently been tlie case, lie
had not returned home so regularly, siev
ing that business detained hint, and,'
had better not wait dinner. Dinner \
out Howard was a very dull ceremony; Hilt
she consoled herself with the reflection
that it was necessary and couldn’t he
helped, and continued her daily occupa
tion of wondering what was the matter
with the clock for a few hours' longer than
usual.
“Has any one been ?” Howard asked,
returning home one evening.
“No, dear O, Edgar Thornton,”
she added the moment after. His coming
had grown such a usual event that it made
no impression on her mind.
“Pretty regular in his visits he seems ?”
Howard suggested.
“Yes; lie always says how sorry he is to
miss you,” Ethel answered.
“Ah, that’s very kind of him,” said
Howard. “I don’t quite think I like our
friend Edgar, dear; Vmt I’m obliged to be
very polite to him or lie would think that.
I blamed him for that wretched money
business. I saw his father to-day. and
really felt more sorry for him than I did
for myself—he seemed so distressed. Poor
little girl,” and he kissed her very lov
ingly, “you look very pale and thin; the
country will do you lots of good. By Jove,
I little thought last 22il of December that
this year I should be in the city. Well, it
only proves the old proverb, “Nothing
happens hut the unexpected." I wonder
what next year has in store. More city, I
suppose.”
Ethel was seated at the piano, and as lie
finished speaking, her fingers strangely
wandered into Schubert's “Adieu.”
CHAPTER 11.
It was the morning of the 23d of De
cember, and for the last time for a fort
night—as he then thought, not knowing
what would so swiftly come to pass—
Howard had gone to his office. They
were going down to Ballasmere Towers on
the morning of Christmas Day, and Ethel
was just meditating the important subject
of packing up, when the maid announced
a visitor.
“Ask him to walk up,” said Ethel, and
the girl retired, returning anon with the
information that he “didn’t like; would
the good lady mind stepping out and
speaking to him ?”
Ethel descended tho narrow stairs to
comply with the request, and found a
man in tho hall dressed as u carpenter.
He made haste, on seeing her, to remove
the paper covering which did duty for
hat, and, having rubbed the bashfulness
from his face with the apron mound his
waist, said:
“Your good man ainlriit home, mum ?”
Ethel, correctly inferring that ho meant
Howard, replied that he was not.
"I called for them carpets for the hup
stair rooms, mum ?"
“The carpets ?’’ Ethel said, wondering.
“Yes, mum; I come from Mr. Mantel,
the upholsterer, and I was to say as W
-he ’ad got some of the crimson pattern,
and the curtains would be up to-night.”
“I don’t at all understand yon: I think
you must have made a mistake I" Ethel
exclaimed; wondering whether this was
the right time to ask him to have some
beer a suggestion which she had an im
pression she ought to alwi.vs make when
talking to a working -v ••. >
“This is Mr. Mert hbS;: ‘tl .isn’t it, mum?
Mr. ’Ownrd Mertleigli ?”
“Yes,” Ethel admitted.
“And ain’t that ’is writin’, mum ?” in
quired the man, anxious to make quite
sure, showing Ethel a note which she im
mediately saw was in her husband's hand,
addressed to the upholsterer.
Utterly perplexed, she said that it was.
“Are the curtains and things for this
house ?" asked she.
“No, mum, for Mr. Mertleigh’s other
’onso at Richmond—the one we're doin’
for 'im. Mr. Mantel says lie's very glad
he was able to get the curtains the pat
tern as the lady chose beoos ho feared he
wouldn't be able to. ”
A chilling fear took hold of Ethel’s
heart. There could lie no mistake. Howard
had taken a house, away from town; and
why, was answered by the fact that a
lady had been with iiim to choose the
| furniture.
will let Mr. Merthleigli know you
called —lie is not at home now,” Ethel
said in alow voice, struggling hard to hide
her emotion from the man, and then run
ning up stairs and locking the door of her
! room, she flung herself upon the bed and
| wept a flood of passionate tears.
Had she deserved this from the man for
; whom she had given up her life of luxury
j to live in wretched lodgings ? she argued
!in her unreasoning grief. How she had
; hungered for the grip of his false hand,
| for a look from his traitorous eyes ! and
w bile she had sat, wearily watching for his
i return, where had he been ? Tlie thought
maddened her. She had been so entirely
true, and the discovery of his treachery
was all the more bitter, inasmuch ns it was
utterly unexpected. llow should she act ?
Meekly pardon this great wrong, and take
again to her true heart him whose heart,
had been so basely false ? What surety
had she for this truth ? Having been
i false once, lie would bo false a grill ! And
the angry tears seemed like to change her
from a loving, trusting child for so in
very sooth she wan into a revengeful
woman.
“A gentleman to see you mum,” said
; the umid' knocking at her door.
Ethel's first impulse was to say sin'
j could not see any one -surely she had re
: reived enough visitors that day 1 But
j anything was preferable to her own
l thoughts; so, bathing her eyes and throb
I lung forehead, and striving hard to repress
i the quiverings of her lip, she descended to
j the drawingroom.
The visitor was a young man of some
j six and twenty years of age; albeit a smile
I on his face, it was not a pleasant smile to
see, and though his face was to a certain
j extent a handsome one, there was a look
I in the eyes that boded ill for the person of
j whom lie thought.
“I think we are. approaching the termi
i nation of act 2,” lie said to himself; "let’s
i hope the curtain will full on a satisfactory
j situation—satisfactory to myself, I mean,
j I’m the walking gentleman, only it’s nu
| fortunate that my interests are opposed
i to those of the rest of the <ntmatis persona 1 .
\ Well, the character will have been well
I worth the trouble of sustaining if the ile
j nouement is only as I wish it to be 1” The
| smile gr&w into a sneer; which, however,
rapidly disappeared when Ethel opened
the door.
“Good morning, Mr. Thornton,” she
j said, as nearly iu her natural voice as
possible.
“Good morning, Mrs. Merthleigli. I’m
i so sorry to see—as I do only too plainly—
I that you are not well.” He spoke in a
j tone of tender compassion, more so than
he had ever dared to assume before, for he
: had determined to put it to the touch to
l day, and the strange look iii her face told
i him that things had happened mi he ex
pected.
“Thank you; I have rather a headache,”
Ethel replied, very truly, with difficulty
repressing the tears which still strove to
reach her eyes.
“When do you leave town ?” he asked.
“Not until the morning of Christmas
day,” she answered. Ah, now she saw
plainly enough why ho had delayed their
departure until then.
“How I shall miss you I” he said with a
| sigh. Should he cross the room to the
sofa where she was sitting ? Perhaps it
was too soon for that, and there was
plenty of time.
“Mr. Mefthlcigti accompanies you, of
course ?"
“Yes, I supp—” she checked herself be
fore her anger mastered her tongue—“yes,
of course !”
But Thornton saw that the full time was
oomo for him to commence his project.
Ho crossed the room now, and seated him
self by her side, she littlo heeding liis
movements.
“I hardly know how to say to you what
I wish—what I feel it my duty, as a loving
I friend, to say.” The tone in which lie
spoke was very earnest, and Ethel listened
| intently. “Mertleigli is my friend; but
iso are you. You were a very dear friend
i once, Ethel—forgive me if the old name
j rushes to my lips—and you ought to know
I all—all the wretched, miserable truth 1”
; lie said with indignation. “I saw a man—
-1 a workingman—leave the house before I
| entered it. I cannot tell wliat may have
I brought him here, but I have reasons for
i asking if the distress which I grieve to see
: in your face is in any way attributable
to his visit ?”
He knew well what the man’s errand
I had been aud how it was that lie had seen
| Ethel, instead of calling at hor husband’s
! office.
“Your silence assures me that it is so.”
Ethel laid turned her head from him and
; Was resting her face on her hand. “The j
; moment has come, Ethel, when I may
i speak—when it ia disloyalty to no one if
! I say the word I have longed so earnestly
ito say. Your woman’s heart will tell you ;
if the words oomo from the bottom of my
soul when I say, “I love you!” Mertli
leigh’s miserulilo secret is a secret no lon
ger ; I see that you know the truth-, tmy,
Ethel, I see that it is so. You know where
ho pusses his days, though you do not,
perhaps, know with whom. You know of
the house at. Richmond, and will guess
that where there is a Page there is a bird.
There, I will suy no more. Ethel, my
darling, your tears madden mo 1” He
tried to draw her to him, but even in this
momentof supreme grief she freed herself
from his grasp. Ho raised hisfaoe, which
had been near the unhappy girl’s ear, and
a devilish smile gleamed in his false eyes.
Tlie game was fur him 1 “Ethel” he eon
tinned, “I loved you from the first, but
when you chose that traitor I let you go,
stifling my misery with tho thought of
your happiness. Had he remained true,
and in a small degree worthy of you, I
would have kept silence to the end; but
now love gives me the right to speak, and,
trembling, I seize my right mid implore
you to give me what Igtlri:vk.-.wa ever my
own. Your love 1 ask, Ethel i Come with
me away from this villain, and from all
remembrance of him. There are happy
spots out of England where nature is so
much fairer than this miserable street as
my love is deeper than liis. lam rich in
money, but very pool without the heart I
prize above all else in the world ! Will
you let him keep what he esteems so
lightly and lit! content with one spot in liis
heart if that remains to you -while all
liis real affection is lavished on another ?
Do you prefer that to the devotion I offer
—to the adoration I cannot help but give?
Speak, Ethel; and speak pitifully, for the
sake of t lie years I have suffered.”
She dried her eyes; mid, but that a
frantic sob ever and anon broke her utter
auee, replied calmly—
“Mr. Thornton, my husband is false to
mo, as 1 know, and you profess to love
me, as 1 believe you do. I will go with
you.” A little shudder crept round her
heart; but her passion destroyed it, and
thus she took revenge.
‘ 'Spok, u like the brave girl I love 1” he
cried. “It would he doubting tho cour
age you have shown to ask if you will de
lay. We may catch the 3:30 train to
Beacliville if v,e are quick, and from there
we can cross the water. Come, Ethel !
You have acted nobly and with the spirit
I was certain you would display, and hap
piness will bo your reward 1”
Very hard and cold aud stern was Ethel,
and triumphant as he was, lie dared not so
much ms *tako her liaml. She left the
room, and returned in a few moments ar
rayed for the most perilous journey hlic
had ever adventured. There was a cab
stand by the door, and ere many seconds
they were jolting towards tho railway sta
tion.
The train was gone, and they were
forced to wait two hours for another.
Ethel, ulosely veiled, sat by the waiting
room fire; she had not yet realized her po
sition, and only felt ad 11 aching pain at
her heart, and a dim knowledge that a
dreadful cloud overshadowed all her life;
a cloud that had no silver lining, and
through which the. sunbeams could not
penetrate, however resplcildeiitly they
might shine. Thornton, well muffled up
for lie aid not care about being noticed
—strode up aud down *’ ~ pririLiui, suiM:
iug a cigar aud chuckling to himself at
the success of his scheme and this folly of
those from whom lie lied won the game.
“Tlie asses talk of honesty and right al
ways turning up trumps in tho end, but it
strikes rno they haven’t miieli chance
against a well concocted plan! Our poor,
dear, deserted Howard can console himself
with the glorious reflection that ‘virtue is
its own reward !’ The girl didn’t look bad
when she stood up and made her little
speech, and ‘though I says it as shouldn’t,’
I don’t know the je<me premier on the
stage at present who could have done the
love making better! Infernal nuisance
this delay- ah, that’s the train. Beaeh
ville train, isn’t it, porter ?” he asked.
“Yus, sir. Any baggage ?" asked the
man.
“No," replied Thornton.
“Shall I lake your bag to a carriage,
s : r ?” the porter naked, alluding to a small
black valise Thornton carried in his hand.
He declined. “I mustn’t part with you,
my precious little friend,” said he, hur
rying to the waiting room to fetch Ethel.
He ensconced her ill a corner of tlie car
riage; tlie whistle sounded aud the trail
glided out of the station.
And then for the first time, as the cold
wind blew into her hot face, and waved
her glossy hair, she began to recognize,
the deed she was doing. As the train
took her, husband, friends, self-respect,
honor, were left behind. And then she
thought of Howard; of how good and true,
and noble he had ever been; and suddenly
it flashed across her mind that the true
explanation of this dreadful mystery might
be other than she supposed. Evidence
seemed against him; but was it possible
to think that he, who hail ever shown
himself n great-hearted gentleman’ worthy
descendant of the men of his race who had
gone before 1 hifn, could be so base to one
whose wtiolo trust had been stayed in him?
And she remembered all the love and
kindness which he had lavished on her;
how she had never heard cross word from
his lips or seen angiy look in his eye; how
ho had forgiven girlish wilfulness with a
pleasant smile in the old days before She
was quite liis own: and how, since tire
lines had fallen hardly on him and he had
come upon evil days, ho hail been the same
as ever—true, loving and kind ! And she
was leaving him for —
“Are you comfortable, my darling?”
asked a voice.
The last word cut her like n knife ! How
sweetly it had sounded from Howard’s lips
—how fondly he had looked on her when
first he used it!
“Oh, yes, thank yon ! Pray don’t speak
tome,” she hurriedly implored.
“I hope we are not going to have any
infernal tantrums,” he muttered, throwing
himself into the corner of the carriage.
The train, which had stopped at the sta
tion, again moved on. One stage further
from fair fume and from the husband she
was leaving—the husband she was leaving
for whom ? This man, who was as far re
moved from Howard in all that was noble
as darkness from light! This man, from
whom she recoiled with horrot now that
onee, more her brain assorted its sway ! Ah,
if she could escape ! Ho would not cast
her from him, she felt wire. YY'ns it too
late ? Hhe glanced at her companion; there
was a determined look in his eyes which
spoko ill for tho success of any prayer she
might address to him for release.
The train again stopped.
“Let me give yon a cup of tea,” ho
said. “You have had no dinner, you
know, and must want something ?”
“1 could not take anything, thank you,"
she answered. “No, please sit there,"she
added, foi lie made it move us if to come
her side. “My head r fli ■ terribly 1”
The smilo on liis face was not plea; tut
to sec as he returned to liis corner. “Y’ou
are master now, my !idy,”ho grimly niut
tered under liis breath, “but, as they snv
on the provincial stuge, a day will
come 1 ’
Once more nml the train stopped, utn
littlo station, and as it drew up by the
platform a way of escape from the thinl
dym which was momentarily more closelj
encircling her suggested itself.
They bail already paused a minute,
when sho looked uputher companion, who
had not spoken for Ethel’s face did not
invite conversation -anil said, “Will yon
please fetch me u glasa of water ?”
"I’m so glad to do something for yon,
darling,” lie said, and hastily li ft the
carriage. “What a cursed nuisance wo
men arc ! Why couldn’t she Imvo spoken
i at a station where ivu stopped a few min
utes ?” lie said, .us |ie strode across the
platfrom.
So soon as he had disappeared into the
wretched little refreshment room Ethel
slipped from the carriage and fled with
trembling feet to the waiting room. The
bull rang before Thulium emerged with
the water, and he rushed hastily to the
train. Ethel was not there! He must,
have gone to the wrong compartment!
He glanced through the next window, and
| just then the train moved off; and with a
quickly beating heart and words of fer
vent thanks to Heaven on her lips the
watcher saw him spring hastily through
the carriage door, and the train glided off
into the darkness.
Hhe sank on to a chair in the deserted
little room, nml covered her face with her
hands, after drawing a long deep breath of
the free air.
Someone entered the room. She lis
tened. Surely the sound of the footsteps
was very familiar to her ears ? she raised
her face.
It was Howard.
He looked on her with a gaze which
would have been very stern but for the
blessed pity in it, as she, dazed by the nn
expected apparition, stood speechless be
fore him.
“Are you my wife?” he asked inastrange
tone.
Her eyes were as tho eves of an angel ns
she looked into his face, so that ho did not
need to hear her say, “Your own wife I”
as she sank sobbing at his feet.
Anil then he raised her and tc ill her in
his arms; and she heard those words which
she hail thought’would never again greet
her listening ears, and as of yore, she full
b ; s loving caress; and the te ,rs flowed
faster than they had flowed ; n her
exceeding sorrow- t.iars of happiness
sent by a gracious God, to wash away her
1 misoi/ and the remembrance of her sin
fulness.
“I will ask you no questions, my own
j darling. lam quite satisfied to find you
I again. How coulil you doubt me ? Was 1
wrong in keeping ft secret from you ? There
was money siivial from the wreck of the
mining shares, though I said not—£2,ooo
j and 1 took the littlo horse at Richmond
i which you had chosen, and furnished it as
you wished. It Was to be a Christmas
p.eaui!. y-s'.:, mi AT invited Reginald and
Iris wife and Bedford to dinner there on
Christmas Eve. YVe can still meet them,
my wife, and let all this puss away like the
memory of a bad dream.”
Then lie told her how it happened that
he had appeared so unexpectedly.
On returning home, radiant with pleasure
at the prospect of their lnfliday fid of the
sniprise he had ill store for her, ho was
astonished that she did not lush out as
usual to greet him; and the astonishment
was increased when he found that she was
not in tlie house. He rang tho bed, and
was told by the servant that she had gone
out with a gentleman at three o’clock and
had not returned. Wundt ing up stairs
in lit perplexity lio had found a few lines
she had scrawled on a sheet of paper, say
ing that she lmd gone, and for wliut
reason.
Paralyzed by surprise and grief, lie left
the house, pausing for a moment on the
; doorstep, not knowing whither to go; and
J while there a cabman on the neighboring
; stand offered his vehicle. It was the man
j who had taken Ethel end Thornton to the
station, and who knew Howard, being
often employed by him. The gliaitly
look on the young man's face confirmed
the suspicions he hail formed when hired
by Thornton that all was not well; for
something in Ethel's manner had attracted
his attention, anil knowing Thornton was
not her husband, he had watched.
“I’ve ’ad a job from your place afore to
day, sir,” he said to Howard, letting him
know where lie took the fugitives and also
that their destination was Beacliville, for
curiosity had induced him to ascertain.
Howard hail followed, and as they had
missed their train fugitives and pursuer
had all gone at the same time. On look
ing out. of the window at the little station
where Ethel had escaped,, to his intense
j Hill prise lie hud seen her, and, springing
from the train, followed her to the room.
“My Ethel,” he said, when he had
j finished his narrative, “wo will live hap
pily, in perfect confidence, at your new
house. Not quite so luxuriously as we
j might have done- I fear there will be no
| pony carnage for ft long time to come” (he
i wished to divert her mind from its present
thoughts), “but we will be very happy;
j anil I shall, I hope, soon obtain some em
j ployment that will give me lucre time with
! you. I hear the train; let us go.”
It was pot the Irani, but mi engine only
j which drew up by the platform, from
wb'eli ft man n'ightcd with a grave face.
“1 beg pardon, sir, you ain’t a doctor?”
he asked.
“No, I’m not,” Howard answered.
“What’s the matter?”
“An accident down the line, sir. Goods
train in the way, as usual. Bad accident,
I’m afraid, and it’s at a lonely place about
j two miles off, where there ain’t much help
; to be got,” the man answered.
“Gnu I help ?” asked Howard.
“Well, sir, if you would not mind—it’s i
adi oty like. Wo’ve sent telegrams', but:
jit’ll lie some time before they are an-;
swered."
Hows,id returned for a moment to the j
I room where he had loft Ethel. “There
has beeiruu accident un accident, Ethel,” j
;he said solemnly—“to tho train by which
we came here; wo were only just in time ! j
lam going to see if I can be of any assis
tance.”
\ She pressed his hand between her own,
; and kissed it. and ho and two or three
others mounted the engine and sped away;
: leaving Ethel to reflect, with awe and
gratitude to Heaven, on the ruin which
, had so nearly befallen her.
NUMBER 46.
A teniblo sight mot Howard’s guzo
when he r •lied tho sccuo of tho cutus
t.-ophe. I ot’i'vie iho c „w. bv tlie light
of nailing -relies, were tWcitly strewed
with frr meats of the carriages, and here
r id there eniong tho debris weio still
living bc ; ng ; who hr 1 not been extricated.
Tho great enyino lay helplessly, on its
side, and on Clio pathway by the mils
were three “shapes" covered with tarpau
lin.
The first thing he saw wns a man, who
was kept down by a mrn of woodwork
cover! lg liis legs. It was Edgar Thorn
ton. Howard made liis way to him. Ho
d’d not then know lioiv deeply the pros
trate figure hail wronged him; lmt, had he
known, it wns, of course, impossible to’
refuse assistance at such a moment.
Howard recognized him with i itonisli
nuvt, which wi s shared by tho sufferer,
who t’ttle thought to son Ethel’s husband.
“Great Heaven, Tpotnton! My poor
fellow, I fear your legs uro hurt."
“No,” gesped the other, sper’dng with
■rro.’ difficulty and iu a low tone, “Is she
safe ?”
ilia Howard sow the truth. “She kit
the train at tho last station,” lie rufun-u,
as gently as h's surprise would allow.
“1 don’t know what’s brought you here,”
tho dying me l murmured, ‘-lmt it’sn- veil
you have come. It’s—all up with mb—•
my back is hurt. I robbed you of your
money —as I would have done of your wife.
There are £15,000 of yonrs—iu that black
bag'. The Peruvian money wns nertwlust.
I nave been studying that—Chancery
suit -yonr wife must win—papers there
will rxpl lin. That is the reason I
I tempted her to leave you.” His voice
grow very indistinct, and almost inaudible
to Howard, who kneeling down, bent ovi r
him. “I should like to hour her say—l
I forgive”—
After Howard hail said a prayer over the
lifeless body, it. r hh and u fourth to the
three shapes under the t uipau'in.
The black valise which had remained hi
tho carriage where ho left Ethel for tho
last time on e hhe felt the solid ground
beneath his feet had iu the terrible shock
been restored to his side. We have s6ei
how lie had been . -rated ”i the next com
partment of the cat lie 3o when the train
[ill iged on to destruction.
“Perfi etly dimming !” wns tlie verdict
which the little paray passed on Howard’s
house, nftei dinner, oil the evening suc
ceeding these events.
“It’s awfully kind of you, Bogy, to leave
the Towers on Christmas evo to gratify my
whim,” su’d Howard.
The hr ouot—who was usur’ly an ex
ec lingly ilemonstvitive man—shook
hands vltli Iris co.mrn for somewhere
about the tbii./-fifth (ime flint evening,
anil replied, “We’ll lifak'e tip foi - it before'
Twe ,f th day, old ftrilow !”
He kept h's word; anil the B.dlesmero
tenants and sc; /ants, incited by the ex
ample of their lord and Iris friends, made
it up to such ail extent that it is greatly
to he feared their festivities approached
tho extreme verge of “orgies.”
“How wonde'-fe' that Howard slionld
have been on tho spot at the time of the
accident! I didn’t know lie hail been out
of town at all,” Lady Hatliern remarked to
Ethel in the course of the evening.
Ethel’s eyes, which had been lovingly
following every movement of her bus-'
b .lid's, for a moment grow sail; but she
did not say how the wonder had come to
]iass, or that at this hour last evening she
who was now sitting by tho cheerful light
of the lire in tl at pleasant room had been
waiting for Howard on the dark, cold plat
form of a little station miles from London.
The visitors had departed to their hotel
and Howard and Ethel were alone when
the cluck stuck twel/o.
“Is 3'onr Christmas as baopy as you ex
pected it. to be, my own vviie ?” he asked;
and Ethel threw her. If int i Iris aims and
was clroped rightly to her husband’s lov
ing heart, os tlie bells rung ’l Christinas
morning.
Allot.jMHor Goto. —The Han Ber
ni (lino (Cal.) Argus, of Nov. 27, gives
th’s extraordinary account of recent, dis
covery. It sounds like the stories of the
en: - lv days of California:
“John Brown, Hr., arrived here yester
day, and has set the town wild with excite
ment by reporting the discovery by Charles
(!a or of the richest belt of gold quartz
w nidi has ever been discovered in Cali
fornia. The find is situated near Bear
Valley, this side of Holcomb, which has
been travelled for the past twenty years.
Career was rilling leisurely along, with liis
ev upon the ground, when lie saw some
thing glisten in the sunlight, mid immedi
ately stopped his horse and took another’
look. His curiosity became more aud
more excited, and, with his eyes fixed
upon the glistening spot, he dismounted
anil f. timed liis horse, and proceeded to
investigate the mystery. Upon approach
ing the place and examining it, he liecame
convinced that tho shining mass was pure
gold, niul as large as a pea, anil upon fu--
tlicr examination he became convinced
that lie laid indeed stuck one of tho big
gest gold lodges in California. For go
where ho would tho glistening jewels
would present themselves. The rock was
perfectly bespangfi 1 with gold. Piece
after piece was broken oil', and in differ
ent localities, but the same result was
there—gold. It is said that one piece,
about the size of n man's list, contains,
on closo estimate, SIOO. Carter says tho
lodge is fully six feet wide, anil stands up
about that distance, mid upon all sides,
where 110 lias broken off pieces, does it
show the same unbounded richness.
Brown showed us a piece as large ns a
hen’s egg, which is jHi'fectly alive with
free gold. When the news reached Hol
comb valley, work was suspended and
everybody proceeded to the now El Do
rado, and the work of laying off and stak
ing out claims was the order of tlie day.”
A Pennsylvania newspaper lias ma’o
the grand discovery of an old woman who
is tho “grandmother of four sets of twins.”
That may be something remarkable, but
we can hardly see what direct credit the
grandmother cun claim iu tho matter.
The Works for the' submarine tunnel un
der the English channel are to be begun
immediately. ,Shafts ate to be sunk at
Dover and Cape Gris Nez, mid tunnels are
to be run for a mile under the sea.
Marshal MocMalion, President of tho
French Republic, is seventy-two years of
age, and lias had his term of office exten
ded seven years.
In Decatur, 111., when a young lady de
clines mi offer to convey her home, beasts
]i I'mission to sit 011 the fence .uni set hoc
