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TILE EXETB11
A. WOMAN'S.• STQRY.
CHAPTER XIX.
i Contempt for the man for whom hs had
I worked, and by whom he had no cloebt
Deraa's nreleat tmen liberally paid. ,
hen I wee a obild, and even last aeue "Mr. Arden is over the way, Etb 1110
i
I used to think a July day could not COttagO," 1 Said.
"You eau l': to him there, if you like.
that Q long, provided, of course, at July you wiltOD es ,
edmibted into my metheraS
ved as July, and one could bask in the house."
bine on the lawn or en the river, and
one's eelf in the shade of willows in
edema backwaters, where the sedges
full of bloom and the lilies lie in a
14 of lovlinees, lilting their milk -white
to the -warm blue eky. This year I
I am growing old, and that we can
toe much even of July, a monotony of
E110085 that preys upon one's spirits, a
etual sunshine that irritates oue's
es.
have only lately discovered what it ie
aye nerves ; and since I made that dike
ry I seem to have nothing but nerves,
her asked me yesterday what had be-
e of my sweet temper. She hardly
gnized her daughter of a year ago in
fretful young person of te-dey, Was I
sweet tempered? I asked myself won-
ingly . I know I an very unamiable
. I was snappish to my dear old
outfield this very morning. I snatched
white frock out of he
d shillyr hand while she
He looked at me from head to foot with
a very insolent expression, but as his
eyes inet mine his coentenance changed
suddenly, and there was more of fear than
of insolence in his look. His olive com-
plexion changed to a grayish pallor, and
he turned on his heel abruptly, muttering
something which I did not hear, He
walked quickly back to the gate and weut
out, and the shrug of his shoulders as he
swung the gate opeu might mean any.
thiug in the world.
My study window overlooks -the lane,
and I saw him nearly an hour afterward
leave the cottage. lie looked bah angry
and crestfallen ,• and I fancy Uncle Ambrose
had not proved so amenable as the appli.
cant had expected. I wonder whether he
bad mentioned oar meeting in Ctsuroh
Street this tirne. I think not. The part
he played in that encounter would seercely
recommend him to my step -father's gen-
erosity. •
CHAPTER XX.
SCATTERED TO THE WINDS.
I have seen that man again. He
-shallying and prosing about it
Was lounging on the grassy bank above the
TINES
leek thisg n the sunset, as Cyril
her dear old, rambling way, debating and I came throuell in our wherry. There
evening 1
her it was or was not fresh enough for
to wear.
What does it matter?" I cried, im-
iently. "There is nobody to see my
'Nobody, Miss Daisy, when teir. Cyril is
•rohing up and down by the boat -house
this very moment waiting for you?"
'Cyril is nobody; a fiance doesn't count,"
dL
hen the silence was at last broken, it
that dear mother of mine who broke
in just the way which of all others
red upon my irritated nerves.
1 Daisy," she Bald, "it is absolutely
emery to arrive at some definite idea
out your marriage. Cyril Ilse been
acling veith me very earnestly, poor
low. He is tired of his solitary exis-
ce in chambers; tired of bachelor
usements. He is devotedly attached to
u, and he wants to begin hie domestic
0.e
And then she went on in her sweet,
der way, which brought the tears into
eyes, to remind me that,. though very
ung, I am no younger than she was when
e oast in her lot -with my father ; and to
11 me again, as she has so often told me,
w completely happy her wedded life was.
sabout that perfect union
the creature sprawled, looking hideously
metropolitan in his black cutaway coat end
black felt hat, against the background of
flowering grasses and the ragged old hedge-
row tangled with wooabine and starred
with blackberry blossom.
I pointed him out to Cyril.
"That is the book -binder man who
haunts your father," I said; and then 1
told him how this detestable person had
been at River Lawn inquiring for Uncle
Ambrose.
"Did my father see him?" asked
"
Evidently; for he was nearly an hour
at the cottage. I saw him leave.'
"My father may have kept him waiting
for the best part of that time," answered
Cyril. "You know how absentminded he
is when he is among his books."
" Yes, indeed," said I, "and I hope that
odious man was sitting 'on the little oak
bench in the lobby nursing his hat all the
time."
The last entry is two days old ; and now
I have to record the strangest event in my
life, since I hare come to womanhood—
an event so startling that I am almost too
aeitated to write about it, although it
happened yesterday. But the record must
be written ; for this book is to be all my
life, a faithful history of the romance and
reality of my existence, of hard facts and
idle dreams, of every act of folly and every
gleam of sense. In a word, this book is
to be a photograph of me, a photograph
in pen and ink, by an unskilled photo-
grapher.
I awoke yesterday morning with that
e more sheaid.
work -basket WOn
ES CU e side of her chair,
her hook -table on the other; but she was
neither reading no working, and I thought
she ieoleed worried and anxious,
"Thiele Ambrose amoug his books ae
4sual. suPpeae," said I, feeling myself a,
dreadful hypocrite, though after all there
had been tune enough for him to get hack
to the library since he passed me in the
lane.
"No doubt," answered mother. "
went across. to the cottage soon after
breakfast."
Mothor," aaid " if I were you I
would teke •him away from Berkshire.
Let us all go to Salzburg, or the Dolomites,
or Auvergne, or somewhere, at least •until
October. This piece doesu't suit Uncle
Ambrose. He is not happy; and you are
not happy. Our lives are beginning to be
a failure. There is something wrong some-
where.
" Yes," answered my mother, gravely,
there is something wrong. Your step-
father le put of health. There is some de-
pressing influehee at work. I have done
all I can—but I ecu not make him happy."
Poor mother 1 There was such a settled
aedness in her tone that the tears rushed to
my eyea, and it was all I could do not to
sob aloud.
understood her secret thought so well.
She had done all she could. She had emeri-
ficed her freedom, her fideliey other first
love, the idolized husband of her youth,
out of gratitude to this faithful friend. She
had put every thought and feeling aside in
order to reward his devotion, and the
sacrifice had been useless. He was not
happy.
ln one vivid glance I saw my own future
fashioned after the semblance of my
mother's lite to -day. I saw myself the wife
of a man whom I could not love, and I saw
him unhappy in the discovery which no
loyal effort of mine oduld keep from him.
Poor mother 1 poor daughter. 1 -
It was nearly three o'clock When mother
and I went into the dining-rootn, and by
that time I had contrived to cheer her with
talk about the books we had been reading
lately, and about a possible run to the Con-
tinent in the early part of September. We
talked of Auvergne and of Ca.uterets, both
ef which districts were still untrodden
ground for us, and untrodden ground has
always the attraction of an earthly paradise.
There was no sign of Cyril.
curious feeling -with which I have so often
•e more miserable I felt, until at last the awakened of late—a feeling of vague wond-
ers rolled down my cheeks, and my er. As 1 float gradaelly from sleep to
ndkerchief became a mere wet rag, and waking, 1 -ask myself, " What ie it ?" I
felt that if I waelike any bride at all it
as the Mourning Bride in somebody's
ay, of whom all I know is that her exia-
nee gave occasion for a much -quoted line
out music, and an overpraised descriptive,
assage about a temple.
"Do you think you could make up your
Ind to be married in the autumn, Daisy 2"
other asked at Iast.
I believe she took my tears to be only the
pression of a general sof t-heartedness—
ere are some girls whose eyes brim over
t a tender word—and not as indicative of
rrow, for she asked the question quite
heerfully.
"Which autumn ?" inquired 1.
"This coming autumn, naturally."
"Why, mother, that would be direct-
•"
"No, dearest; we are still in July. Sup.
ose we were to fix upon October for the
know there 18 something amiss in my lire ;
but what, but what? And then I remem-
ber that I am engaged to be matried and
that October is very near. And then I
think how good it would be for everybody
if I were to fall ill and die, and leave
Cyril free to marry somebody who would
really love him, and be honestly glad to
be his wife. There are such girls, no doubt
I believe I could name seven between Hen-
ley and Reading.
"Is it my mother who is trying to part
us 1"
Daisy, your mother has nothing to
do with this matter, She knovie nothing
of my determination yet, and I am going
to ask yolla aVor."
"What is that V'
"I want you to let your mother suppose
that it is you_who have broken the engage.
went. 1 don't think as society ie consti-
tuted nowadays, there vrill be very much
astonishment at the alteration of our plans,
I hope before a year is Over that any darling
will have found a worthier lover; and ao 1
shall be far away, no doubt people will
Boon forget) me."
"Yon will be far away?" 1 echoed.
"Where ?"
di In Auetralie. I shall try to begin a
neW life on the other side of the world ;
breed sheep on the Darling Downs, or turn
wine grower, Heaven knows what; but
anyhow, my future shall be as far remote
from my past as distance can make it."
A new light flashed upon me, and I be-
gan to think that the question of money
was tit the bottom of poor Cyril's trouble.
"I begin to suspect your motive," I said,
seriously. " Uncle Ambrose has lost his
fortune. Its coming was like a fairy tale,
and it haa vanished like gold in fairy -land.
Oh, Cyril, surely you know that I never
oared about your father's wealth,or thought
whether you were rich or poor. Mother
and I have plenty of money for all of us."
"My deterest I know your generous heart.
No it is not a money trouble that has dark-
ened my days; but there is a trouble; and
it is one which I must keep looked up in
my own breast till I die."
It was a delicious afternoon, with a hot
sun and a bine sky—a sky flecked with
faint, feathery oloudlets. It was the kind
of afternoon which used to mean unquali-
fied bliss ; and even in spite of My troubles
I could not help feeling a kind of sensuous
content as I lolled back in my pet wicker
chair and watched the ripple of the river,
and the gentle movement of the willows
where the opposite bank curved inward
toward' the broad reach over which the
church tower casts its solemn shadpw.
The second quarter after four chimed
freen the dear old tower,the tea -table stood
ready, the little copper kettle hissed gayly,
but still there was no sign of Cyril. 1 began
to feel just a little uneasy about him, for it
was unlike his usual way to be anywhere
within reach and not come to hunt rue out
every hour or so, either for a ramble or a
ride, a single, or a row, on our beloved
river.
It was nearly five when I saw a young
man corning across the lawn to the terrace
where I was sitting—a young mau in tennis
flannels, such as those I had. seen Cyril wear
when he started for the tournament that
morning; a man of Cyrirs height and
bulk, but not the least like Cyril in figure
or walk, as I saw him in the distanee ; for
this man stooped as Cyril never did, and
this man's step had none of the elastic force
for Cyril's rapid movements. Yet this man
with the bent shoulders and heavy walk
was Cyril, and no one else—Cyril trans-
formed by ,some heavy trouble.
That was the feeling with which I awoke
"y.esterday. A lovely day, and the church
clock striking six with a clear and silvery
sound that means a west wind, and my
room filled with the sweetness of the white
clematis, which grows over all this end of
the house
I was out in the garden by seven, and
breakfasted with mother, Uncle Ambrose,
and Cyril at eight.
Then I went for a long, long ramble,
The church clock stauck one as I came
across the meadows, in sight of the village.
The aftermath was deep and full of flowers,
and the narrow footpath between the tall
edding. That would give us three months 1 grass and the hedgerow was the quietest
or your trousseau. All other things are
eady ; your charming rooms in Crosvenor
quare, and at least half this house. Your
tep-father and I will be overhoused even
hen; especially as Ambrose does not love
ee•
his place, and would like to travel during
ome part of every year."
"les, there is room enough tor us all,"
said; "and as for the trousseau, I don't
are a straw about it You have dressed
e so well all my life thet I never hunger
or new clothes. It is only the badly
reseed girls who are eager for wedding
nery."
"Leave the trousseau to me, then,
Daisy," said mother, "and I will take
are that it is worthy of the dearest girl in
he world. I may tell Cyril that he shall
begin his new life before the end of October,
ay I not?"
"Tell him just what you like, mother,"
answered, with a heart as heavy as lead.
"You must be the best judge of what is
ight."
I left her a few minutes afterward to go
back to the garden. I felt a thstleseness
which made it impossible for me to stay in
he house, a perpetual fever and worry
hich seeme a a part of the heavy burden
hat weighed on my spirits. And, oh 1 I
had been so happy, so happy in that very
garden only a year ago.
I went back to the house, too restless to
tay long anywhere, and on my way to the
all door I was startled by it most hateful
haven in which to think of one's troublea.
I felt sorry I was so near home when I
came to the little gate that opened out of
the meadow in a deep lane ,leading directly
te • our own road. River Lawn was in
front, between me aild the Thames, and
Uncle Ambrose's cottage was on my left
hand as I turned my face to the river. .
I was lingering at the gate, in a dreamy
mood, when I heard footsteps in the lane.
I thought they might belong to one of
those everlasting Reardons, and, as I wasn't
equal to meeting a Reardon, I drew back
behind a bushy blackthorn that grew
beside the gate, and watched the passer-by.
There was more than one ---two men went
slowly by, in earnest, and, as I thought,
in angfreonvereation, though the tones of
the one who was talking when they passed
the gat were suppressed almost to a
whisper.
These tyro were T_Tnele Ambrose and the
French bookbinder. Scarcely had they
passed the .gate when another man followed
stealthily, evidently liatening to their
conversation. •
The third man was Cyril—Cyril, my
bethrothed husband; Cyril, the pattern of
honesty and honor, creeping at his father's
heels, and acting the degrading part of a
listener.
I could hardly believe my eyes 1 was
shocked, horrified, dieguitted ; and yet,
after thinking the whole thing over during
a. most painful reverie'I was obliged to
confess to rayeelf thatif the opportunity
had occurred to me I might have done the
" It is something about yourself," I
speculated, pitying him too much to leave
the mystery unquestioned ; "some mortal
disease, perhaps. You have consulted a
physician who has told you that you may
die auddealy, and yon fear to make me un-
happy."
"No, Daisy, medical men and 1 have
had few dealings since 1 was vaccinated.
Don't ask any more questions, dear. I
dare not tell you more than I told you at
first All is over between us; and my life
must be spent thousands of miles away. I
could not trust myself within reach of an
'express train that would bring me back to
you.
He bent over me sal sat motionless with
wonder, looking at the bright water and
the lights and shadows on the opposite
shore. He pressed his lips upon my fore-
head in a farewell kiss.
• "Good-bye my Daisy, my pearl, mine no
more," he said, and turned away, and
walked slowly across the lawn by the way
he had come.
I heard the gate in the fence open and
shut, and I knew that he had gone across
the road to Ins father's cottage.
I sat looking at the water in a mute,dull
wonder. The footmen carried away the
tea -table in their horrid mechanical Way,
which makes one think that they
would clear the table and arrange a room
in just the same leisurely fashion if one
were lying dead upon the carpet. The
evening darkened, and still I sat
there wondering and musing. I Was
free—free to love or marry whom I
pleased. And yet I could not feel glad.
I felt such an impostor. Surely I ought
to have Confessed the truth. There might
have been some consolation for him in
knowing the worthlessness of the thing he
surrendered.
And yet, and yet—it might have been
cruel to undeceive him. It was better for
him, perhaps, to believe that he had re-
ceived n-easure for measure, that I had
loved him ta the last.
"If elver I marry, it will be years hence,
I dare say," I told myself, "and he will be
in Australia,happily married himself before
that time."
"This was a gomforting thought, but
even this could not prevent me feeling very
unhappy about Cyril and his mysterious
trouble? Had he gambled? Had he kept
race -horses? Had he foeged ? The trouble
was obviously a very eerious one. It might
be some casual forgery, executed after a
wine at Christchurch, when the poor dear
fellow hardly knew what he was doing.
He came slowly to the empty chair at my
side 'and seated himself in silence, and
looked at me witheeyes whose expression I
can never forget. All frivolous words died
on my lips. I could only watch him in
mute expectancy.
"Daisy," he began, in a voice that was
even stranger than his altered looks, "1
think you know that I loved you,honestly,
truly, and dearly." .
"I ana sure you have, dear," I answered,
with a sinking heart, knowing that I my-
self dared not have said as much of my own
truth and honesty.
pparition in the person of that odious same thing,
renchman who attacked ole in Church The pertistent intrusions of that French-
treet, and who seeing to have interwoven man are not to be endured without protest
imself into our lives by his persistent of some kind ; and I thirik Cyril wee justi-
W
eats to thy step-father'a charity, I fled in listening to any eonversetion in hich that man bore a part, in order to
know hOw kihd Uncle Ambrose is; and
yet I should Wive gieren him credit for more
rimless of mind than to &HOW hirintelf to
be hunted down by a needy impostor of
this kied. The man was owning from the
gate toward the hall door When We met
face to face, and he looked considerably
abaghedat enemunterieig me.
"Ah, you May well feel ashamed of
yourself," I said, indignantly. Yes, I
am the lady you had the audaeity to waylay
in the street whele yea were tipsy."
" Yen are Mho Hetrell." he faltered,
looking an absolute craven.
"Yes, 1 eirk KiSS nistrell. What do you
want 0,t iny Mother's house.?
"I want to Stee+-40 eMpleyets-your
step -lather."
He.said those two worcla, ulvty employ -
Me" 180 Meet detestable manner, implying
proteot his good, easy, and most unwordly-
wise father from being imposed upon.
(es, after serious reflection,. I found 'ex,
curies for my ,poor Cyril, although the sight
of that creeping figure, With head bent for-
ward to listen, mitre me a dreedfal thock.
A greater shock was to come a few hears
after, a Shock Which agitates my heart and
nerves at tine nrannent, net knowing how
ought to take it, whether / ought ta be glad
or sorry. Glad I can not be recalling my
poor Cyril's white,agonieed face as he talked
to rhe by the river at ,five o'clock yeeterday
afterriocen Sorry / can not be, when
reirtezriber how cruelly the tie with Which
had bound myself weigbed upon myspirits.
It WAS late when / hito the hoisee,
but nci one had gone to 'lunch. Mother was
Sitting alone in the morning-rooni, lier
•
"1 have not gone into hysterics about my
passion, or writteti verses, or done any
other of -the wild things that I might have
done had we met as strangere at Venice
the other day and fallen in love with each
other at first sight. I have taken eveiy-
thieg for granted—too much for granted,
perhaps. I grew up loving you, from the
time I was a lad at School and you' a. kind
of household fairy in a white frock, with
bright hair and dove -like eyes. I went on
loving you, and olaimed you as my own
almost as if I had a right to you—as if the
trouble of wooiug and whining were not for
me, since my own true love had been born
and reared and educated expressly to make
me happy. That is how I felt about you,
Daisy, and perhaps I have seemed a tame
wooer in consequence."
"Nol no 1 no 1" I exclaimed, eagerly.
"You have been all that, is good and true.
It is 1 who am weak and changeable and
frivolous; it is I who am to blame—"
My too -ready tears stopped. me. I
thought he had discovered my guilty secret,
that he had found out somehow that I had
left off caring for him, and had begun to
care for Gilbert Florestan, I was going to
throw myself on my knees at his feetwhen
he stopped my uncertain movement with a
hand laid heavily upon my arm. I doubt
if he had heard one word of my self-
accusation.
"That is all over and done with, Deity,'
he said, "our wooing at Venice and else-
where; and all the happy days and hours
we have had together; and all our plans for
the future; and the rooms that have been
made beautiful for us to live in ; and the
life we were to lead. All those things must
be as a dream that we have dreamed, and
yon mint teach yourself to forget me, and
to forget that you were ever my promised
wife,"
There was another idea which struck me
afterward, as I walked back to the house.
What if Cyril,in a weak,goodma.tured way,
had got himself engaged to another girl, a
girl he detested,and felt that honor obliged
him to marry her because she was of inferior
rank and because he detested her?
This would account for his resolution to
go to the other side of the world and begin a
new life. He would marry this person and
take her straight off to the antipodes,
where no one belonging to his own world
would ever see him in his disgrace. Poor
Cyril ! My heart bled for him.
Mother came out of the drawing -room
window to meet me as I drewnear the house.
She had just returned from her visiting,
having tasted half a dozen cups of tea in
half a dozen tiny sitting -rooms, and had
heard no end of sad stories. Yet she looked
happier than usual, for she had been giving
happiness to others.
I had been keeping my heart locked
against that dear mother for months ; but
now I was determined to tell her as much
of the truth as I was free to tell. I put
my arms round her neck, and laid my be-
wildered head upon her shoulder.
Ye8, he had found out all the truth, I
told myself. My head drooped forward
upon my °leaped hands, and 1 had what the
Reardon girls call a good cry. 1 felt so
sorry for Cyril, so ashamed of myself. I
did not for one moment doubt that he
had discovered my inc0001anc3r, and that
he was setting_me free to marry Mr. Flores.
tan, if Mr, Florestan cared to have the
reversion of isueh a Worthlees weather -
000k
- " My darling, don't ory so bitterly," he
pleaded, more tenderly than evet I remem-
ber him to helm done in all our foolish little
love E08008. "YOU are breaking my heart,
and / have boa to be Strong and 'stern to
faec aoruel future."
You think that, 1 am" fickle• 1 said at
lett, "end not worthy of your trust t"
"You fickle t you unworthy ?"10 °tied,
"Why, my dearest, 1 know yott are the
• truest and purest of Creatures. There is
go tikaaParable bar to Our Morriage40
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I could not tell her a deliberate false-
hood, but I could prevaricate, which I dare
say is just as bad. •
"There was no necessity for me to ask
him," I said; "he understood my feelings
—we understood each other perfectly.
Don't ask any more questions, mother
darling," I pleaded; "fib least not about
poor Cyril. He will be leaving us very
soon I fear. Indeed, indeed, there ia no
need for you to grieve," I urged, kissing her
sweet, anxious face. "It is better as it
is,'
"Is it, Daisy?" she exclaimed, sadly.
"I can not quite think that. The change
seems light to you, but it is a sad breaking
up of home and family ties. The nest has
been made ready for the birds, and now
they are to part and scatter 'far and wide.
This will be a blow for your step -father.
He was do proud of your engagement to
Cyril, so happy in the thought of year
future union , The dissappointment will be
bitter for him. Aud he is out of health,
and hardly in a condition to bear a great
sorrow."
My mother looked at the clock en the
ohimney-piece. '
"A quarter to eight, Daisy, and we must
dress for dinner, and after dinner I must
tell your step -father what has happened.
He has no idea of it I suppose ?"
"I think not." '
"Poor Ambrose, I am sorry for him. No,
love,I don't blame you or Cyril," she added,
hastily, as she saw my look of self-repreaoh.
"It is not your fault, either of you, if
you do not love each other well enough -to
take life-long vows. It is better to have
found out the truth in time ; but the disap-
pointment will not be less bitter to Cyril's
father. It pleased him to believe that his
affections for me would be in a manner
continued in the coming years by his eon's
union with my daughter. hear Ambrose
going upstairs to his dressing-roorn. We
ahall be late for dinner."
I ran to my room, three steps at a time,
I felt happier than I had been at any time
since we leftVenice, in spite of all that had
been done to reek° me happy. I was sorry
for Cyril, honestly and sincerely sorry, but
a berden was lifted off my heart, and I
could not wonder that it beet less heavily,
(To BE CONTINUED.)
"Mother dear, you have no need to
trouble about that horrid trousseau," I said,
half laughing and half crying ; " change
has come over the spirit ot our dream—mine
and Cyril's. We have agreed that we don't
quite suit each other—or at least that we
answer better as brother and sister than we
.ever could as husband and wife—and so, in
the friendliest way,eve have agreed to part.
He is going to Australia to look about him,
and I am going to stay with you."
I believe was slightly hysterical after
this, and I felt very much ashamed of my-
self as I heard myself making a ridiculous
noise without the power to stop.
Poor mother kissed and comforted tete,
and scolded me a little, till I quieted down,
and then she sat by my side on our favorite
sofa to discuss the situation,
"This is very sudden, Daisy," she said;
and I saW that shelooked grave and troulde
"It seems sudden," I answered; "but it
has been: in the air for some time—ever
mince viNeft •Paria."
inother,iis if she saw a light.
"You must have seen that I was relifo.
teat to name any time for my marriege,and
that I didn't take the faintest, interest in
my trousseau."
"Yee, I saw that, and 1 thpught it only
meant that my Daisy was 1008 frivoloue
than Most girls,"
"It meant that I was a hypocrite and
impostor; that I allowed myself to he en-
gaged to Cyril Ont of sheer frivolity -mete
idle Vanity, which made me pleased to
have tsR admirer. For months pest I have
been ehafing against my bonds, and I can
not lie too grateful to Cyril for having sot
Ine free."
"Did you ask him to release you 2" in,
quired mother, looking at me searchingly
With het Sat, derietie eyes.
Children Cry for Pitcher's CestorW
"tnce you lef1 Paris 1" repeated
SET RULES AT DEFIANCE.
No Railroad Company Could Prevent Her
Seeing Melinda ern
When the train for the west was called,
there was a rush of passengers at the door,
and among them was a small, thin young wo
man about 20 years old, who had a humble
and resigned expression, and e sharp -nosed
iron -jawed female of 45, who was evident-
ly her mother. The small thin woman had
a bundle end a ticket to St. Thomas. The
sharp nosed woman had a basket and two,
bundles and no ticket at all.
"Ticket, ma'am" said the gatekeeper,
as she attempted to follow her daughter
out.
"I'm jest goin to see Melinda on the
train," she replied.
"Ticket, ma'am, ticket ; got to have a
ticket."
"I've got to put Melinda aboard of the
train, I tell ye 1 She's never traveled be-
fore in her life, and is jest as apt to gie
under or on top of the car as into it."
"Show your ticket ma'am 1" persisted
the gatetender as he waved his ticket
punch around. " rho.ve to do as I am
ordered you know."
„ flow he Got it.
De Boist—" How did you catch your
cold ?"
Is Bristle—" Yam know col& no con-
tagious 2"
"Yes."
" Well, I caught it asking other people
how they caught their colds."
A Plan of Letters.
Examiner—" Spell(cue,"
Policeman
a That's What I "
"Well that's what Q.'
" Yea.
" I know it. I went you te spell it"
"Thunder 1 Ain't I spellin' it. Yell
be &skin' me to spell ‘1" next I"
Nas
"1 tell ye," replied the woman, as ?she
growded closer. " I'm bound to see Me-
linda off! It won't hurt yer ole railroad
any to let me through. 'Melinda, don't
yeh ory, fur I'm amornina The idea thee a
mother can't see her daughter off 1"
'Ticket, ma'am ! You are detaining
fifty passengers. Please show your ticket
or move back 1"
" I've got to put Melinda on that car 1"
sheeted the woinan in a high key, "I've
got twelve eggs, a bottle of skunk's ile, two
lamp chimneys, a pumpkin pie, a bottle of
hair dye and a pint of buttermilk in this,
baaket, and I either go through or bust
this basket right here'and now!" '
She dropped the bundles and began
swinging the basket around her head, but
* it made only two circles when the gate -
tender smilingly said 2
"Wish to ECG your daughter off? Pass
right in, lady a and etay as long as you wane
"Yon bet I will:" /withered the old leayr,
as she joined lelelintia, "but I'm a little
sorry he give up So quick. Good lands,
but 1 oeuld hey made sick a wreck of that
depot that no treine could her gone out,
fur a week!" •
Who He Was.
Mr, Lightweight (airily, to conduotet1
I wonder what that shabby old codger
finds ettatttractive in this direction. He'd
been eying me foe ten initiates."
Conduotor (thonghtfully)—" I guess he's
wondering how you 'happen to be travelling
on a pass, Ile's the preeident of the road.
•
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annr.......................
MUM'S VITALiZE
T. S. Hawkins, Chattanooea,
moss Vitra tzar 'SAVED
siscciet For DeeneWsla
le eXotare Deice Va ma.
• 'LOWS
youestarrhV Try'thisItemedy.
relieve and Cure
I -Wee -tor. for its successful
free, B o
seed, re- t euarantee t ease
ter
LEGAL.
to
1. H.DICKSON, Barrister, Soli- cov
ll 4 • oitor of Supreme Court, NotarY
Public, Octuveyaneer, Oommissioner, ,te
Money to Leen,
Ordeal n. auson'sBlook. Exeter, rem
-The R. COLLINS, the
.rt 0
Barrister, , Solioitor, Conveyancer, to
nelETEB, - ONT.
OFFICE: Over O'Neil's Bank.
11LLIOT & ELLIOT,
i 1 /
Barristers, Solicitors, Notaries Public,
Conveyancers 85c, 850.
"Money to Loan at Lowest Rates of
interest.
OFFICE, - MAIN - STREET, EXETER.
REDERICK LLTOT.
B. 4. ELLIOT. FE
lemetorms 4mommorAssalcommi
MEDICAL,
T W. BitOWNING M. D., M. 0
e., • P. S, Oraduate Victoria Univeri ty;
office and reaidence, Dominion Labe e.
tory ,Exe ter.
DR. RYNDMAN, cor,oner for Lie
Comity of Huron. Oftlee, oppesits
Darling Bros. s tore , Exe ter. a
DRS. ROLLINS le AMOS.
eparate Offices. Residence same as former-
ly, Andrew. st. Offices: Spackinan's building.
Main st; Dr Rollins' same as formerly, noith
floor; Dr. Amos" tame building, south door,
J. A. ROLLINS, M. D., T. se. _AMOS, M. D
Exeter, Ont
AUCTIONEERS.
T- EAR DY, LICENSED A LIO-
4 A • &neer for the Qs) untY of liuron.
Charges moderate. Exeter P. O.
1_41 BOSSEIst.BERRY, General Li-
8 'A*censed Auctioneer Sales condected
in allparts. Satisfactiougues:anteed. Charges
moderate. Hensel' P 0, Oat;
T_TEKRY EILBER
tioneer for
Licensed Ana-
the counties of iTuron
eonducted at mod.-
at Post -office Ore.
=0.......11,12...it
an& Midillesex o. saies
erate rates. Office,
tom Out .
1101.....t,
MONEY TO LOIN. .
Loaning
Provinotal
Office,
ONETO LOAN AT 6 AND
percent, Uwe() PrivateFunds Best
Companies represented.
L. H. DIOLCSON
Barrister. lxoter.
,M.............
SURVEYING.
FRED W. FARNO0 NIB,
Land Surveyor, aud. Civil
MST G-TINTM M R._ 323TO..
Upstairs, Sainwell's Block, Exetor.Ont
years
• Ontario,
damage
insurable
the
Cash
issued
amount
in
3.w.vrA.T.DEN.,
Beorstary
VETERINARY.
Tennent&
EXETER,
Grttonstes of the
:eye.
OFFICE : One nom.
Tennent
ONT.
CM
Hall,
Ontario Vecerivaw
south of To wn
rtlielE WATERLOO MUTUAL
1 FIRE INSURANCE 0 0 .
Establishedin 1863.
WEAD OFFICE • WATERLOO, ONT.
This Company has 'been over Twentv-eigh
in successful (mention in Western
and continues to tnsure against loss or
by, Fire, Buildings, Merchandise
Manufactories and all other descriptions of
property., Intending insurers have
option of insuring on the Premium Note or
System.
During the past ten years this company has
57,096 Policies, covering property to the
of $40,872,038; and paid in theses alone
S709,752.00.
Assets, stet:aleph)°, consisting of Cosh
Bank Government Depositand the unasses-
fed Premium Notes on hand and in force
31.D., President; 0 M. TAYLOR
: J. B. Timms, Inspector. . Ofetee
SNELL, Agent for Exeter and vieini ar
•
,
t
Nettralgie
Dizzi-
also
pured
. TARK'S
POWDERS
Clue S1OK HEADACHE
le ad) ppyraroriAls, also
ness,Bniousitess, Fele 12
Torpid Liver, Bad St ath,
regelaee Me hewea. veiny
foRteNr 20 ORM S it'
and
Csoaiee Toegue,
the Side, Constipation,
to stay knifed
Mon fib
DRUGP $roitieso
----
FOR TWENTY-FIVE
'
D
B
YEARS
N17?
s
N a
ow D E
THEOGOKS BEST FRIEND
LASOEST +SAL* IN GANADA*
1
Xti 1803 11.52,074 gallons of beer leer
merle taittinele*.
TILE EXETB11
A. WOMAN'S.• STQRY.
CHAPTER XIX.
i Contempt for the man for whom hs had
I worked, and by whom he had no cloebt
Deraa's nreleat tmen liberally paid. ,
hen I wee a obild, and even last aeue "Mr. Arden is over the way, Etb 1110
i
I used to think a July day could not COttagO," 1 Said.
"You eau l': to him there, if you like.
that Q long, provided, of course, at July you wiltOD es ,
edmibted into my metheraS
ved as July, and one could bask in the house."
bine on the lawn or en the river, and
one's eelf in the shade of willows in
edema backwaters, where the sedges
full of bloom and the lilies lie in a
14 of lovlinees, lilting their milk -white
to the -warm blue eky. This year I
I am growing old, and that we can
toe much even of July, a monotony of
E110085 that preys upon one's spirits, a
etual sunshine that irritates oue's
es.
have only lately discovered what it ie
aye nerves ; and since I made that dike
ry I seem to have nothing but nerves,
her asked me yesterday what had be-
e of my sweet temper. She hardly
gnized her daughter of a year ago in
fretful young person of te-dey, Was I
sweet tempered? I asked myself won-
ingly . I know I an very unamiable
. I was snappish to my dear old
outfield this very morning. I snatched
white frock out of he
d shillyr hand while she
He looked at me from head to foot with
a very insolent expression, but as his
eyes inet mine his coentenance changed
suddenly, and there was more of fear than
of insolence in his look. His olive com-
plexion changed to a grayish pallor, and
he turned on his heel abruptly, muttering
something which I did not hear, He
walked quickly back to the gate and weut
out, and the shrug of his shoulders as he
swung the gate opeu might mean any.
thiug in the world.
My study window overlooks -the lane,
and I saw him nearly an hour afterward
leave the cottage. lie looked bah angry
and crestfallen ,• and I fancy Uncle Ambrose
had not proved so amenable as the appli.
cant had expected. I wonder whether he
bad mentioned oar meeting in Ctsuroh
Street this tirne. I think not. The part
he played in that encounter would seercely
recommend him to my step -father's gen-
erosity. •
CHAPTER XX.
SCATTERED TO THE WINDS.
I have seen that man again. He
-shallying and prosing about it
Was lounging on the grassy bank above the
TINES
leek thisg n the sunset, as Cyril
her dear old, rambling way, debating and I came throuell in our wherry. There
evening 1
her it was or was not fresh enough for
to wear.
What does it matter?" I cried, im-
iently. "There is nobody to see my
'Nobody, Miss Daisy, when teir. Cyril is
•rohing up and down by the boat -house
this very moment waiting for you?"
'Cyril is nobody; a fiance doesn't count,"
dL
hen the silence was at last broken, it
that dear mother of mine who broke
in just the way which of all others
red upon my irritated nerves.
1 Daisy," she Bald, "it is absolutely
emery to arrive at some definite idea
out your marriage. Cyril Ilse been
acling veith me very earnestly, poor
low. He is tired of his solitary exis-
ce in chambers; tired of bachelor
usements. He is devotedly attached to
u, and he wants to begin hie domestic
0.e
And then she went on in her sweet,
der way, which brought the tears into
eyes, to remind me that,. though very
ung, I am no younger than she was when
e oast in her lot -with my father ; and to
11 me again, as she has so often told me,
w completely happy her wedded life was.
sabout that perfect union
the creature sprawled, looking hideously
metropolitan in his black cutaway coat end
black felt hat, against the background of
flowering grasses and the ragged old hedge-
row tangled with wooabine and starred
with blackberry blossom.
I pointed him out to Cyril.
"That is the book -binder man who
haunts your father," I said; and then 1
told him how this detestable person had
been at River Lawn inquiring for Uncle
Ambrose.
"Did my father see him?" asked
"
Evidently; for he was nearly an hour
at the cottage. I saw him leave.'
"My father may have kept him waiting
for the best part of that time," answered
Cyril. "You know how absentminded he
is when he is among his books."
" Yes, indeed," said I, "and I hope that
odious man was sitting 'on the little oak
bench in the lobby nursing his hat all the
time."
The last entry is two days old ; and now
I have to record the strangest event in my
life, since I hare come to womanhood—
an event so startling that I am almost too
aeitated to write about it, although it
happened yesterday. But the record must
be written ; for this book is to be all my
life, a faithful history of the romance and
reality of my existence, of hard facts and
idle dreams, of every act of folly and every
gleam of sense. In a word, this book is
to be a photograph of me, a photograph
in pen and ink, by an unskilled photo-
grapher.
I awoke yesterday morning with that
e more sheaid.
work -basket WOn
ES CU e side of her chair,
her hook -table on the other; but she was
neither reading no working, and I thought
she ieoleed worried and anxious,
"Thiele Ambrose amoug his books ae
4sual. suPpeae," said I, feeling myself a,
dreadful hypocrite, though after all there
had been tune enough for him to get hack
to the library since he passed me in the
lane.
"No doubt," answered mother. "
went across. to the cottage soon after
breakfast."
Mothor," aaid " if I were you I
would teke •him away from Berkshire.
Let us all go to Salzburg, or the Dolomites,
or Auvergne, or somewhere, at least •until
October. This piece doesu't suit Uncle
Ambrose. He is not happy; and you are
not happy. Our lives are beginning to be
a failure. There is something wrong some-
where.
" Yes," answered my mother, gravely,
there is something wrong. Your step-
father le put of health. There is some de-
pressing influehee at work. I have done
all I can—but I ecu not make him happy."
Poor mother 1 There was such a settled
aedness in her tone that the tears rushed to
my eyea, and it was all I could do not to
sob aloud.
understood her secret thought so well.
She had done all she could. She had emeri-
ficed her freedom, her fideliey other first
love, the idolized husband of her youth,
out of gratitude to this faithful friend. She
had put every thought and feeling aside in
order to reward his devotion, and the
sacrifice had been useless. He was not
happy.
ln one vivid glance I saw my own future
fashioned after the semblance of my
mother's lite to -day. I saw myself the wife
of a man whom I could not love, and I saw
him unhappy in the discovery which no
loyal effort of mine oduld keep from him.
Poor mother 1 poor daughter. 1 -
It was nearly three o'clock When mother
and I went into the dining-rootn, and by
that time I had contrived to cheer her with
talk about the books we had been reading
lately, and about a possible run to the Con-
tinent in the early part of September. We
talked of Auvergne and of Ca.uterets, both
ef which districts were still untrodden
ground for us, and untrodden ground has
always the attraction of an earthly paradise.
There was no sign of Cyril.
curious feeling -with which I have so often
•e more miserable I felt, until at last the awakened of late—a feeling of vague wond-
ers rolled down my cheeks, and my er. As 1 float gradaelly from sleep to
ndkerchief became a mere wet rag, and waking, 1 -ask myself, " What ie it ?" I
felt that if I waelike any bride at all it
as the Mourning Bride in somebody's
ay, of whom all I know is that her exia-
nee gave occasion for a much -quoted line
out music, and an overpraised descriptive,
assage about a temple.
"Do you think you could make up your
Ind to be married in the autumn, Daisy 2"
other asked at Iast.
I believe she took my tears to be only the
pression of a general sof t-heartedness—
ere are some girls whose eyes brim over
t a tender word—and not as indicative of
rrow, for she asked the question quite
heerfully.
"Which autumn ?" inquired 1.
"This coming autumn, naturally."
"Why, mother, that would be direct-
•"
"No, dearest; we are still in July. Sup.
ose we were to fix upon October for the
know there 18 something amiss in my lire ;
but what, but what? And then I remem-
ber that I am engaged to be matried and
that October is very near. And then I
think how good it would be for everybody
if I were to fall ill and die, and leave
Cyril free to marry somebody who would
really love him, and be honestly glad to
be his wife. There are such girls, no doubt
I believe I could name seven between Hen-
ley and Reading.
"Is it my mother who is trying to part
us 1"
Daisy, your mother has nothing to
do with this matter, She knovie nothing
of my determination yet, and I am going
to ask yolla aVor."
"What is that V'
"I want you to let your mother suppose
that it is you_who have broken the engage.
went. 1 don't think as society ie consti-
tuted nowadays, there vrill be very much
astonishment at the alteration of our plans,
I hope before a year is Over that any darling
will have found a worthier lover; and ao 1
shall be far away, no doubt people will
Boon forget) me."
"Yon will be far away?" 1 echoed.
"Where ?"
di In Auetralie. I shall try to begin a
neW life on the other side of the world ;
breed sheep on the Darling Downs, or turn
wine grower, Heaven knows what; but
anyhow, my future shall be as far remote
from my past as distance can make it."
A new light flashed upon me, and I be-
gan to think that the question of money
was tit the bottom of poor Cyril's trouble.
"I begin to suspect your motive," I said,
seriously. " Uncle Ambrose has lost his
fortune. Its coming was like a fairy tale,
and it haa vanished like gold in fairy -land.
Oh, Cyril, surely you know that I never
oared about your father's wealth,or thought
whether you were rich or poor. Mother
and I have plenty of money for all of us."
"My deterest I know your generous heart.
No it is not a money trouble that has dark-
ened my days; but there is a trouble; and
it is one which I must keep looked up in
my own breast till I die."
It was a delicious afternoon, with a hot
sun and a bine sky—a sky flecked with
faint, feathery oloudlets. It was the kind
of afternoon which used to mean unquali-
fied bliss ; and even in spite of My troubles
I could not help feeling a kind of sensuous
content as I lolled back in my pet wicker
chair and watched the ripple of the river,
and the gentle movement of the willows
where the opposite bank curved inward
toward' the broad reach over which the
church tower casts its solemn shadpw.
The second quarter after four chimed
freen the dear old tower,the tea -table stood
ready, the little copper kettle hissed gayly,
but still there was no sign of Cyril. 1 began
to feel just a little uneasy about him, for it
was unlike his usual way to be anywhere
within reach and not come to hunt rue out
every hour or so, either for a ramble or a
ride, a single, or a row, on our beloved
river.
It was nearly five when I saw a young
man corning across the lawn to the terrace
where I was sitting—a young mau in tennis
flannels, such as those I had. seen Cyril wear
when he started for the tournament that
morning; a man of Cyrirs height and
bulk, but not the least like Cyril in figure
or walk, as I saw him in the distanee ; for
this man stooped as Cyril never did, and
this man's step had none of the elastic force
for Cyril's rapid movements. Yet this man
with the bent shoulders and heavy walk
was Cyril, and no one else—Cyril trans-
formed by ,some heavy trouble.
That was the feeling with which I awoke
"y.esterday. A lovely day, and the church
clock striking six with a clear and silvery
sound that means a west wind, and my
room filled with the sweetness of the white
clematis, which grows over all this end of
the house
I was out in the garden by seven, and
breakfasted with mother, Uncle Ambrose,
and Cyril at eight.
Then I went for a long, long ramble,
The church clock stauck one as I came
across the meadows, in sight of the village.
The aftermath was deep and full of flowers,
and the narrow footpath between the tall
edding. That would give us three months 1 grass and the hedgerow was the quietest
or your trousseau. All other things are
eady ; your charming rooms in Crosvenor
quare, and at least half this house. Your
tep-father and I will be overhoused even
hen; especially as Ambrose does not love
ee•
his place, and would like to travel during
ome part of every year."
"les, there is room enough tor us all,"
said; "and as for the trousseau, I don't
are a straw about it You have dressed
e so well all my life thet I never hunger
or new clothes. It is only the badly
reseed girls who are eager for wedding
nery."
"Leave the trousseau to me, then,
Daisy," said mother, "and I will take
are that it is worthy of the dearest girl in
he world. I may tell Cyril that he shall
begin his new life before the end of October,
ay I not?"
"Tell him just what you like, mother,"
answered, with a heart as heavy as lead.
"You must be the best judge of what is
ight."
I left her a few minutes afterward to go
back to the garden. I felt a thstleseness
which made it impossible for me to stay in
he house, a perpetual fever and worry
hich seeme a a part of the heavy burden
hat weighed on my spirits. And, oh 1 I
had been so happy, so happy in that very
garden only a year ago.
I went back to the house, too restless to
tay long anywhere, and on my way to the
all door I was startled by it most hateful
haven in which to think of one's troublea.
I felt sorry I was so near home when I
came to the little gate that opened out of
the meadow in a deep lane ,leading directly
te • our own road. River Lawn was in
front, between me aild the Thames, and
Uncle Ambrose's cottage was on my left
hand as I turned my face to the river. .
I was lingering at the gate, in a dreamy
mood, when I heard footsteps in the lane.
I thought they might belong to one of
those everlasting Reardons, and, as I wasn't
equal to meeting a Reardon, I drew back
behind a bushy blackthorn that grew
beside the gate, and watched the passer-by.
There was more than one ---two men went
slowly by, in earnest, and, as I thought,
in angfreonvereation, though the tones of
the one who was talking when they passed
the gat were suppressed almost to a
whisper.
These tyro were T_Tnele Ambrose and the
French bookbinder. Scarcely had they
passed the .gate when another man followed
stealthily, evidently liatening to their
conversation. •
The third man was Cyril—Cyril, my
bethrothed husband; Cyril, the pattern of
honesty and honor, creeping at his father's
heels, and acting the degrading part of a
listener.
I could hardly believe my eyes 1 was
shocked, horrified, dieguitted ; and yet,
after thinking the whole thing over during
a. most painful reverie'I was obliged to
confess to rayeelf thatif the opportunity
had occurred to me I might have done the
" It is something about yourself," I
speculated, pitying him too much to leave
the mystery unquestioned ; "some mortal
disease, perhaps. You have consulted a
physician who has told you that you may
die auddealy, and yon fear to make me un-
happy."
"No, Daisy, medical men and 1 have
had few dealings since 1 was vaccinated.
Don't ask any more questions, dear. I
dare not tell you more than I told you at
first All is over between us; and my life
must be spent thousands of miles away. I
could not trust myself within reach of an
'express train that would bring me back to
you.
He bent over me sal sat motionless with
wonder, looking at the bright water and
the lights and shadows on the opposite
shore. He pressed his lips upon my fore-
head in a farewell kiss.
• "Good-bye my Daisy, my pearl, mine no
more," he said, and turned away, and
walked slowly across the lawn by the way
he had come.
I heard the gate in the fence open and
shut, and I knew that he had gone across
the road to Ins father's cottage.
I sat looking at the water in a mute,dull
wonder. The footmen carried away the
tea -table in their horrid mechanical Way,
which makes one think that they
would clear the table and arrange a room
in just the same leisurely fashion if one
were lying dead upon the carpet. The
evening darkened, and still I sat
there wondering and musing. I Was
free—free to love or marry whom I
pleased. And yet I could not feel glad.
I felt such an impostor. Surely I ought
to have Confessed the truth. There might
have been some consolation for him in
knowing the worthlessness of the thing he
surrendered.
And yet, and yet—it might have been
cruel to undeceive him. It was better for
him, perhaps, to believe that he had re-
ceived n-easure for measure, that I had
loved him ta the last.
"If elver I marry, it will be years hence,
I dare say," I told myself, "and he will be
in Australia,happily married himself before
that time."
"This was a gomforting thought, but
even this could not prevent me feeling very
unhappy about Cyril and his mysterious
trouble? Had he gambled? Had he kept
race -horses? Had he foeged ? The trouble
was obviously a very eerious one. It might
be some casual forgery, executed after a
wine at Christchurch, when the poor dear
fellow hardly knew what he was doing.
He came slowly to the empty chair at my
side 'and seated himself in silence, and
looked at me witheeyes whose expression I
can never forget. All frivolous words died
on my lips. I could only watch him in
mute expectancy.
"Daisy," he began, in a voice that was
even stranger than his altered looks, "1
think you know that I loved you,honestly,
truly, and dearly." .
"I ana sure you have, dear," I answered,
with a sinking heart, knowing that I my-
self dared not have said as much of my own
truth and honesty.
pparition in the person of that odious same thing,
renchman who attacked ole in Church The pertistent intrusions of that French-
treet, and who seeing to have interwoven man are not to be endured without protest
imself into our lives by his persistent of some kind ; and I thirik Cyril wee justi-
W
eats to thy step-father'a charity, I fled in listening to any eonversetion in hich that man bore a part, in order to
know hOw kihd Uncle Ambrose is; and
yet I should Wive gieren him credit for more
rimless of mind than to &HOW hirintelf to
be hunted down by a needy impostor of
this kied. The man was owning from the
gate toward the hall door When We met
face to face, and he looked considerably
abaghedat enemunterieig me.
"Ah, you May well feel ashamed of
yourself," I said, indignantly. Yes, I
am the lady you had the audaeity to waylay
in the street whele yea were tipsy."
" Yen are Mho Hetrell." he faltered,
looking an absolute craven.
"Yes, 1 eirk KiSS nistrell. What do you
want 0,t iny Mother's house.?
"I want to Stee+-40 eMpleyets-your
step -lather."
He.said those two worcla, ulvty employ -
Me" 180 Meet detestable manner, implying
proteot his good, easy, and most unwordly-
wise father from being imposed upon.
(es, after serious reflection,. I found 'ex,
curies for my ,poor Cyril, although the sight
of that creeping figure, With head bent for-
ward to listen, mitre me a dreedfal thock.
A greater shock was to come a few hears
after, a Shock Which agitates my heart and
nerves at tine nrannent, net knowing how
ought to take it, whether / ought ta be glad
or sorry. Glad I can not be recalling my
poor Cyril's white,agonieed face as he talked
to rhe by the river at ,five o'clock yeeterday
afterriocen Sorry / can not be, when
reirtezriber how cruelly the tie with Which
had bound myself weigbed upon myspirits.
It WAS late when / hito the hoisee,
but nci one had gone to 'lunch. Mother was
Sitting alone in the morning-rooni, lier
•
"1 have not gone into hysterics about my
passion, or writteti verses, or done any
other of -the wild things that I might have
done had we met as strangere at Venice
the other day and fallen in love with each
other at first sight. I have taken eveiy-
thieg for granted—too much for granted,
perhaps. I grew up loving you, from the
time I was a lad at School and you' a. kind
of household fairy in a white frock, with
bright hair and dove -like eyes. I went on
loving you, and olaimed you as my own
almost as if I had a right to you—as if the
trouble of wooiug and whining were not for
me, since my own true love had been born
and reared and educated expressly to make
me happy. That is how I felt about you,
Daisy, and perhaps I have seemed a tame
wooer in consequence."
"Nol no 1 no 1" I exclaimed, eagerly.
"You have been all that, is good and true.
It is 1 who am weak and changeable and
frivolous; it is I who am to blame—"
My too -ready tears stopped. me. I
thought he had discovered my guilty secret,
that he had found out somehow that I had
left off caring for him, and had begun to
care for Gilbert Florestan, I was going to
throw myself on my knees at his feetwhen
he stopped my uncertain movement with a
hand laid heavily upon my arm. I doubt
if he had heard one word of my self-
accusation.
"That is all over and done with, Deity,'
he said, "our wooing at Venice and else-
where; and all the happy days and hours
we have had together; and all our plans for
the future; and the rooms that have been
made beautiful for us to live in ; and the
life we were to lead. All those things must
be as a dream that we have dreamed, and
yon mint teach yourself to forget me, and
to forget that you were ever my promised
wife,"
There was another idea which struck me
afterward, as I walked back to the house.
What if Cyril,in a weak,goodma.tured way,
had got himself engaged to another girl, a
girl he detested,and felt that honor obliged
him to marry her because she was of inferior
rank and because he detested her?
This would account for his resolution to
go to the other side of the world and begin a
new life. He would marry this person and
take her straight off to the antipodes,
where no one belonging to his own world
would ever see him in his disgrace. Poor
Cyril ! My heart bled for him.
Mother came out of the drawing -room
window to meet me as I drewnear the house.
She had just returned from her visiting,
having tasted half a dozen cups of tea in
half a dozen tiny sitting -rooms, and had
heard no end of sad stories. Yet she looked
happier than usual, for she had been giving
happiness to others.
I had been keeping my heart locked
against that dear mother for months ; but
now I was determined to tell her as much
of the truth as I was free to tell. I put
my arms round her neck, and laid my be-
wildered head upon her shoulder.
Ye8, he had found out all the truth, I
told myself. My head drooped forward
upon my °leaped hands, and 1 had what the
Reardon girls call a good cry. 1 felt so
sorry for Cyril, so ashamed of myself. I
did not for one moment doubt that he
had discovered my inc0001anc3r, and that
he was setting_me free to marry Mr. Flores.
tan, if Mr, Florestan cared to have the
reversion of isueh a Worthlees weather -
000k
- " My darling, don't ory so bitterly," he
pleaded, more tenderly than evet I remem-
ber him to helm done in all our foolish little
love E08008. "YOU are breaking my heart,
and / have boa to be Strong and 'stern to
faec aoruel future."
You think that, 1 am" fickle• 1 said at
lett, "end not worthy of your trust t"
"You fickle t you unworthy ?"10 °tied,
"Why, my dearest, 1 know yott are the
• truest and purest of Creatures. There is
go tikaaParable bar to Our Morriage40
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I could not tell her a deliberate false-
hood, but I could prevaricate, which I dare
say is just as bad. •
"There was no necessity for me to ask
him," I said; "he understood my feelings
—we understood each other perfectly.
Don't ask any more questions, mother
darling," I pleaded; "fib least not about
poor Cyril. He will be leaving us very
soon I fear. Indeed, indeed, there ia no
need for you to grieve," I urged, kissing her
sweet, anxious face. "It is better as it
is,'
"Is it, Daisy?" she exclaimed, sadly.
"I can not quite think that. The change
seems light to you, but it is a sad breaking
up of home and family ties. The nest has
been made ready for the birds, and now
they are to part and scatter 'far and wide.
This will be a blow for your step -father.
He was do proud of your engagement to
Cyril, so happy in the thought of year
future union , The dissappointment will be
bitter for him. Aud he is out of health,
and hardly in a condition to bear a great
sorrow."
My mother looked at the clock en the
ohimney-piece. '
"A quarter to eight, Daisy, and we must
dress for dinner, and after dinner I must
tell your step -father what has happened.
He has no idea of it I suppose ?"
"I think not." '
"Poor Ambrose, I am sorry for him. No,
love,I don't blame you or Cyril," she added,
hastily, as she saw my look of self-repreaoh.
"It is not your fault, either of you, if
you do not love each other well enough -to
take life-long vows. It is better to have
found out the truth in time ; but the disap-
pointment will not be less bitter to Cyril's
father. It pleased him to believe that his
affections for me would be in a manner
continued in the coming years by his eon's
union with my daughter. hear Ambrose
going upstairs to his dressing-roorn. We
ahall be late for dinner."
I ran to my room, three steps at a time,
I felt happier than I had been at any time
since we leftVenice, in spite of all that had
been done to reek° me happy. I was sorry
for Cyril, honestly and sincerely sorry, but
a berden was lifted off my heart, and I
could not wonder that it beet less heavily,
(To BE CONTINUED.)
"Mother dear, you have no need to
trouble about that horrid trousseau," I said,
half laughing and half crying ; " change
has come over the spirit ot our dream—mine
and Cyril's. We have agreed that we don't
quite suit each other—or at least that we
answer better as brother and sister than we
.ever could as husband and wife—and so, in
the friendliest way,eve have agreed to part.
He is going to Australia to look about him,
and I am going to stay with you."
I believe was slightly hysterical after
this, and I felt very much ashamed of my-
self as I heard myself making a ridiculous
noise without the power to stop.
Poor mother kissed and comforted tete,
and scolded me a little, till I quieted down,
and then she sat by my side on our favorite
sofa to discuss the situation,
"This is very sudden, Daisy," she said;
and I saW that shelooked grave and troulde
"It seems sudden," I answered; "but it
has been: in the air for some time—ever
mince viNeft •Paria."
inother,iis if she saw a light.
"You must have seen that I was relifo.
teat to name any time for my marriege,and
that I didn't take the faintest, interest in
my trousseau."
"Yee, I saw that, and 1 thpught it only
meant that my Daisy was 1008 frivoloue
than Most girls,"
"It meant that I was a hypocrite and
impostor; that I allowed myself to he en-
gaged to Cyril Ont of sheer frivolity -mete
idle Vanity, which made me pleased to
have tsR admirer. For months pest I have
been ehafing against my bonds, and I can
not lie too grateful to Cyril for having sot
Ine free."
"Did you ask him to release you 2" in,
quired mother, looking at me searchingly
With het Sat, derietie eyes.
Children Cry for Pitcher's CestorW
"tnce you lef1 Paris 1" repeated
SET RULES AT DEFIANCE.
No Railroad Company Could Prevent Her
Seeing Melinda ern
When the train for the west was called,
there was a rush of passengers at the door,
and among them was a small, thin young wo
man about 20 years old, who had a humble
and resigned expression, and e sharp -nosed
iron -jawed female of 45, who was evident-
ly her mother. The small thin woman had
a bundle end a ticket to St. Thomas. The
sharp nosed woman had a basket and two,
bundles and no ticket at all.
"Ticket, ma'am" said the gatekeeper,
as she attempted to follow her daughter
out.
"I'm jest goin to see Melinda on the
train," she replied.
"Ticket, ma'am, ticket ; got to have a
ticket."
"I've got to put Melinda aboard of the
train, I tell ye 1 She's never traveled be-
fore in her life, and is jest as apt to gie
under or on top of the car as into it."
"Show your ticket ma'am 1" persisted
the gatetender as he waved his ticket
punch around. " rho.ve to do as I am
ordered you know."
„ flow he Got it.
De Boist—" How did you catch your
cold ?"
Is Bristle—" Yam know col& no con-
tagious 2"
"Yes."
" Well, I caught it asking other people
how they caught their colds."
A Plan of Letters.
Examiner—" Spell(cue,"
Policeman
a That's What I "
"Well that's what Q.'
" Yea.
" I know it. I went you te spell it"
"Thunder 1 Ain't I spellin' it. Yell
be &skin' me to spell ‘1" next I"
Nas
"1 tell ye," replied the woman, as ?she
growded closer. " I'm bound to see Me-
linda off! It won't hurt yer ole railroad
any to let me through. 'Melinda, don't
yeh ory, fur I'm amornina The idea thee a
mother can't see her daughter off 1"
'Ticket, ma'am ! You are detaining
fifty passengers. Please show your ticket
or move back 1"
" I've got to put Melinda on that car 1"
sheeted the woinan in a high key, "I've
got twelve eggs, a bottle of skunk's ile, two
lamp chimneys, a pumpkin pie, a bottle of
hair dye and a pint of buttermilk in this,
baaket, and I either go through or bust
this basket right here'and now!" '
She dropped the bundles and began
swinging the basket around her head, but
* it made only two circles when the gate -
tender smilingly said 2
"Wish to ECG your daughter off? Pass
right in, lady a and etay as long as you wane
"Yon bet I will:" /withered the old leayr,
as she joined lelelintia, "but I'm a little
sorry he give up So quick. Good lands,
but 1 oeuld hey made sick a wreck of that
depot that no treine could her gone out,
fur a week!" •
Who He Was.
Mr, Lightweight (airily, to conduotet1
I wonder what that shabby old codger
finds ettatttractive in this direction. He'd
been eying me foe ten initiates."
Conduotor (thonghtfully)—" I guess he's
wondering how you 'happen to be travelling
on a pass, Ile's the preeident of the road.
•
I