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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Brussels Post, 1889-6-14, Page 6T111? '.: 'TO1t'S 1)AlUGHTER t v taro-, un :aisafea, E'1 £ a- t'.r '+ £lo£)c;sr)i t t'faVie'T I who,. e • Lilt! • Lmvt n+ ee,te," aorei go.. £ t, ruled Y,.--, then.._- Out at wuuht envy !twee been IT the force of ciao!!. sit neer after all. �..- t. u.lrT).n A Bat 1 W came at last, to 1 his first gleuce at her almost shocked hunt, the change which had slowly crept open her was really se great a one. He had not known. its full extent before, and he wits stoitled by the slenderness of the hand ale oiiered him, and bythe tt , colorless look of her face. 'Was 1•,*.elide that :Ile would not "get over it" rfter all? Careiess as shit was, he could not control a swift pang of remorseful fear at t.hu thought. She knew why he had come. Site, had lieurd tate iutror a his intended, departure, and she understood that thio was to be the end of her dream. Her pu!sn was fluttering wildly, and the blood at her heart beat with a heavy throb; but she was not an ignorant girl now ; her expericnee had forced her into womanhond, and ehc had feared at length to see what the graceful, idle game had meant: He had done her the bitterest wrong a lean can do a woman, and he was trying to ignore it. But it was not so easily Ignored. Remem- bering the past, it was somewhat die&cult to appear at ease, thought he made an effort at it. He had cone to bid her a hurried good. bye, he told her, after a first commonplace had been spoken. Circumstances lad ren - adored it necessary that he should leave C'ootnbe•Ashly, and of course ho could not go without making his adieux to herself and Mr. Renfrew. He was anxious to get it over, and tried to speak easily; but he could not help being conscious that his at- tempt was a failure, and he could not resist the sense of discomfort which overpowered hint. Ilow would she take it? She met it very quietly. The sharp sting of the blow had passed away, and only the dull, dead bruise remaiued, and there was something like a touch of simple dignity in her girlish manner. The shadow of dawning womanhood in her still sad eyes would not hays been a pleasant thing for tho least impressible of men to havo upon his consci- ence. In some way it touched this man's shallow soul, in its contrast with the old un- tried freshness which had charmed hien so, mid it needed a greater effort than ever to utter graceful cenmouplaces with the slender 1}gure etanding quietly before him, and the quiet young face a little averted from his gaze. His visit has been a very pleasant one, he seed to her again, but he was a little tired of rustication, and was unlike herself, in the respect of being necessary to Coombe -Ash- ley's happiness. He did not remain very Ion„ and said but littlo mare—he had little more to say. He melt not overcome the awkwardness of his position, and he found it bet:ming more awkward every moment, He left Coombe-Aahley in her ear(, he added, finally, trying to speak lightly; he was sure it was in gaud hands, and he thank- ed her for the assistance she had rendered hien. But it was a wretched mockery of ease, so wreteheel a one that he bade her good-bye with an Intense feeling of relief, and she- well, she saw him leave the room with a consciousness that she could not have borne the ordeal longer. She stood at the window, and watched hien down the read when he left her—and her watching had a strange, dead despair in it. It was hard to believe that he was gone at last—gone so calmly and so carelessly. She scarcely realised until now that she had looked forward to this farewell with unde- fined fancy that there would bo something terrible in it, that it amid not pass over with thethe dull quiet which had grown upon her. It eeerel that a great passionate pang would td crest have been a relief after this slow, helpless death of her happiness, the dull dais c tit of all hope. Ah . my reader, these quirt, commonplace tragedies are the constant tlroppisg which wears away the atone. 'But it was gone, aria it was over, andthc bruise was more dangerous than a stab would have been, for its dullness was the sick pain whish means death. She slipped into her old favorite seat al- most unconsciously, and sat there looking out at the sunshine in a moveless silence, and -when her father returned, he found her sitting there still, though the sun hadone down, and evening was setting in. Marjory had opened the door for him, and in her quaint bitterness had told him of the visit, "He has been, master—this bras, Strath- spey," she had said. " He came to bid her gude-by, and she has been sitting Iter' 'lane over sin'." He went to her with a heavy heart, and when he came to hor side, she looked up, and their oyes met in it swift, ,saddened un. dorstanding. There was a little eilence, in whish he laid hie hand upon her hair, as he always did, with that pitying, caressing touch, and then ho spoke to hor. 1"He has gone, Prue?" he:questioned in a Iow voice, "Yes," she answered. "And it is all over l" " Yes." He touched the brown hair oven more ten. derby them before, she was so dear to him in her girlish trouble. " We will try to forget it together, my bairn," be said, " We were very happy in the ofd life—you and I ; and we will try to bo happy again," Prue looked out into the darkening gar. •den with a slow heart-throb. Were they really going hack? Could she ever go back to the old peace? The answer did not come to her clearly, though a shadow of it passed through her mind with a remembrance that it was a shadow not entirely new. She did not speak of it then, but it was open her, uevarthelose, it had been upon her before ; and as the days passed on, its shadow grew deeper, and she began to rs -cognize, it more clearly. When Strathspey was gone, their lives slipped back into tine old groove. The toe - tor returned to his labors with a feeling of rehef, Prue to Inc quiet work; and Lady Strathspey began to congratulate herself that her charitable plan had boon et success. •'This litre Misr Renfrew would forget hits fancy, as other girle lt."l . But perhaps site did not eeeto1)t ; , at the matter rightly. The rte,. t:,, , 1, . "got over it" had not been mad, „e, Mee material as ]'rale T(u)tus. o, lives had held more 1 f i ,roe; tract their anon tom Itnn, .h:-. etond alone. She I,II dreamed, seen faltered, and e •,„., `een', 111111 !burro -woe not ober >, This field. wweet i,ui'a.:tero .+•! .,enm w u 1 I lu to t t revealed to Iter t ,n.,r.,,a• ,, 0 w , i view, tmppiecra. '-'i'h.•i •. v; .':. lee hie,. cure.,. to sht,on t h el, is .ui,:; to trent. 'Ott It �.:1. 111.1 .111], wandering etrang:ly vt hat the, ce in q; would brim u if ea,•h day wee' t h its the hest had done, mail her lite ., ed. (lure or Mier: slit had fontat i Hinging up her hands bit the pantin„ uta Wild, sudden t.eee,ot .t 11d terr'r et the butt apathy o hie4 w.r:..r ing ever her. \1,triory !oohed up 1001 0.4 ee than ever to see her dal len:; silent, with the 10111 lines en Ler and lite alai ne in her eyes. ,tali,• vr... v.•,1 from such reverie., generally, with t rent, and then the quiet liatlesst.tessreut. Inc agate. But ence she did ,tut ate, .,, and when \iarjoiy teue had her, sten :+lit; een into leer tum., still and white, just a :ate had Blipped into her arms the night 1 !r n her tragedy had first dawned upon ter .Wily, and w ben slit: returned to eteweieu.uess atm, .he neeret alto had hidden in her g rf- i li breast eo lung, revealed itself Inc tho ttr,•t time. •`:larjnty," she whiepmrd, clinging to the broad shoulder. "dlarjory, L`thinkI ant going to die..' She had never spwtee SO before : wits had never let them dream that she felt her quiet sorrow could lead to such an end ; but Mar- jory had known it, and now the good old eleature broke down utterly. "b'or the glide Lord's sake, fifes Prue," she cried, '" fiats say that, bairn 1 Von the gudo Lord's salt(, think o' your father !" P,ut she had thought 1.1 her father often enough, with a sad !Bonder as 10 1010 would take her place, if such an ending really came. The shadow had become more than a shadow, and she had begun to feel that this end was coming, however slowly, and had looked forward to it with a listless re- cognizance of its reality, but she had never mentioned it before. The two months that followed were a terrible two months to Marjory, and as the new emulousness grew more strongly upon him, they were a terrible two months to her master, too. His pretty, brown -eyed Prue —this "ono ewe lamb i" It could not he. He battled against her fears with alibis stern strength; he tried to ignore it, a the one lane at the alen- ng toand n glance der Iittte hands, with their sadly lighter touch ; one look at the fair pure face, and his courage woulclfail him. Before the sum- mer had ended the quiet, slight figure was often absent from the square pew, and he ,vas learning to understand that the girlish romance was proving itself a tragedy in truth. Even her pensioners had begun to miss her, and in the end Marjory came to her master one morning and poured forth her long silent grief. She had just left Prue lying, as she often did of Iate, upon a lounge in the parlor, and her last glimpse of the pale bane, with its half-closed eyes, had been too much for her. " She is dying, master," she cried, with sad brevity. "1 oanna letyoor een be ling- ershut. She Was but abode's niter n', and her heart is e'11 broken, and neither you nor I can save hex." He rose from his place a strieken man. He did not speak. He wont to the room wIhere the girl lay, and there the full force of the Muth burst upon hits, crushing every hope he had cherished.• ell trTER Xt. • He knelt at her side, and took her hand in his, stricken to the heart by his recognition of how frail it had grown ; and when he did so she ripened her eyes and looked up at hint. "Prue," he faltered. " My bairn, what is this ?" She know what ire meant, but her old fear for Itis pain seemed to bo lost in something deeper and more solemn, "Don't youunderutuml?" site whispered, with a, strau"o flutter in her voice. "I am going to die,' lie gave one look at the brown, shadowy eyes, and then the full sense of the loss which would be his opened to him. "I cannot believe it, Prue," he cried. "1 cannot believe it 1" "It is true," site said, with great weari- ness, scarcely as though she imd heard hien. "It wee true from the first, You did not quite understand it, you know. but it WAS erne.' It teas useless to tell him that now, for he could read the truth for himself. Tho face which lay upon the cushion was the face of her dyingmother—he knew the look too well; but she had not faded and died with a blight on ]ler young life, Now, my reader, I dare say I shall sur- prise you, perhaps, if you are practical per- sons, which is very likely, and excite your practical contempt, when I tell you that this girl, with her quiet little sentimental, every- day tragedy, did die, in truth,—dicot quiet- ly, but Badly enough, perhaps, in the eyeaof unpractical people, of what we sometimes hear called a broken heart. A common -place cause for such an uncommon -place death, you think ; but the love of this Scottish rector's young daughter had been her life—and her love was dead ; and perhaps such deaths are not so uncommon as we fancy. Perhaps the unromantic hearts, whose unromantic beat- ings are sometimes stilled ---the homely hearts of homely mum and women—are oftener stilled by some quiet tragedy, than we, who know so mush of great and practical reason, would ever dream of. But however that is, 1 must end my tra- gedy as it ended on the stage of the quite life. Prue Renfrew died—died because her young life was plighted ; and being only a girl, since it zoomed to her girlish weakness that life's burden was too hard to boar, she laid it down. This is one view of the case ; but there is another --that He who to pitiful to all, laid His great baud upon the girlish heart, and lightened the burden with a touch, Only a few weeks more and one morning Lady Strathspey's carriage stopped at the Rectory garden•gate, and hor ladyship step. pod out, with a deeper anxiousness on her pale, handsome face than had aver softened its haughtiness before. Marjory opened the door for ler, as usual ; but there was something softened even in blario•y'astern, toar•atainocl fare, as she hod the way to the little white bed -room, up stairs, now clarke0ed by closed blincle, and faintly ewoot with the odour of floweret She reciter stood at the bedside, looking ;town at the fair young face upon the pillow, and after her that startler] glance ret this young face, her ladyship turned to him. " i did not einem of this 1" alto seta, "I uever dreamed of this 1 Ili t is dying 1" IIs tanhcd the strengthleao,littlo hand ripen tate armlet, and bowed hie lead with the broken !majesty of a stricken men, " lly'one ewe Iamb,' my lady," he said ; "and shote dying." The w'nman could not sneak Tr GLn ),. clot M,11'rtel eel 11110 gur1, Shahan at least hal , ed hor for her death in epee of her tardy catitun, ,old In the first passion of her eve' manly f .. v, I think it possible that she saw het Idol to slip had never inn hint ]before }-1 l'NI: 14, 1,189, . _ ,..e' .1 'ae, ate; !Strut.• ' Rt, etc, , I1,'.\ , 1 to 1 to ,!eta: 11 hick Fri:•?t Hoe 1" tin• eetit whet: i, anebtnl lebn, 11h bar ..> t:.;ien ;rit•w i , done,. ht' , ,add net 10, I ,iter and pst.eetal el tib. it might. ba that a s:one:ttle•e.t roast ! t:my reled her c' 1) ; It Hilda lid that le:r l a .¢se was a feeling of the um• memo •.1. i would pas away : telt certainly, it 1 d r•d her and wrung herr L'rut rly in this nt once, - she wrote in the enol. ...Ire eta rite elthebefore yo:htem•bus: and if she al:,vid upcu her dyne: ryes and nal: for yen- he dying often lm, a such faueics, they tell me-andyou were not there, Angus, :Lb, add lea n ft!give you," Anti so be nut , pale and wretched, and shaken with ill era:torso an mall 1(01011 el)11 feel : an ephemeral pang, and a keen one. In the moment when tit last in, stood in the littlo dark need hod-t•o,iln, he would have given even the words he had beard Gwen. doline Frandey speak a few days before, to In1r theuntried trt l meas .emin, andd nuth7 the wrong of his n ids she had not ked ter hint, she bad t+eareely r Token, nn less a few tender words to her fatter, iu her «west, lttnkelt voie•'e, $ntlteiitme9 She seem• ad quite uneo7aeienv, told when he entered she wit. lying quietly with the littlo brown ltible clasped fu her hand, she had !!skeet int —in the night, and her father had brought it to her. They were all waiting for th0 end then, and they knew that it was drawing very near. T. )t:•athspcy it Honied that he had stood silent by the bedside for hours, lie had watched the white face upon the pillow until it seemed to have melted Way, and left ]rim standing in the darkne,'s. But at last she moved faintly, and a hus1, Feil upon them oven deeper than before. Her father raised her hand and stood moveless, and the next moment the great, innocent brown eyes opened full and suddenly. It see ted as if she had lost all of the earth but one memory ; it seemed as if she had forgotten all the rest, and this one memory ,told a strange mysterious power. The and had come, She moved a little, just a little, with the faint movement of it wearied child, and then the brown eyes fell upon Strathspey as if ha had never left her side. "You kissed me once, my lord," she said, slowly, with the soft, strange flutter in her voice. "Yoh kissed ole once, and you forgot it ; but I—I could ,not." Aud then Elie brown eyes darkened suddenly and fell, and then --•Ah ! •what then ? Only those who havo gone before can toll us, for with the elosing of her eyes the curtain fell upon the stags again—the tragedy was played to its ending. The rector bent over gently, there was no tear in his oyes, no tremor an lits dark, stern face, and took the little, well-worn Bible front her hand—the little, well -worts Bible they all knew so well—and to he took it, n brown, faded, scentless sprig of mignonette fell from its pages, and fluttered to Strath- spey's foot. They buried hor in the old ehurah-yard, close by her mother's side ; and the purple ,leather grew abonther, anti the bells swung in the old tower, and chimed above. From his pulpit the rector could turn, and locking out of the gotlhiu windows, sec the littlo mound, with its eons of marble at his head. Ile himself it was who stood, when the grave Wen open, and read the sublime words over the slender coffin, "I amu the resurrection and the life ;" and lie, turning his steps homeward to rho brown; gabled rectory, re- membered desolately how the brown•eyed, girlish face had ahvays greeted him. But for the rest. Shall I say that site was re• membered after the first pang was over, and the world had feta hack to its attune. tamed grove? e? f hall I say that she was for get to.n? Nay, keeping before you this man, et when: there are hundreds such, I leave yen to answer Inc yourself. file curtain has fallen, and toy tragedy has dueled. .1 Bravo Act itetrarArd. In the autumn of 1074 Thomas Hall of Worksop, Englund, who had been a soldier, went to Stockton-ou-Tees in his regimentals to have his photograph taken. Ho noticed a carriage step in one of the principal thol•- otttlufarv0. '1110 eonehuuut get down from the boa:, but had scarcely reached the ground when 11„• d t;bcd cif at a te•t•iti0 pace, dr.;;.:i::; Ibe Barr:lt;c behoof it, ill widen wad sward a girt six veto's of age. It was evident that nr;oas the terse was stopped tee 'gild would leo killed, lett! walked : t 1110 ebidln of the road, waited till the le!‘awing! horse reached him, and thou •iLmn. at head. 110 Was tarried about i,'1 yard., ir.unging 011 to the horse's nada, but t,ueeeedud eventually in stopping it. 'The child, who was very much frtglutcued, 4hn.itlied the tom again and again, took his address, and told him that she could not re- ward hum for his bravery then, but would do et when alto carte of age ; and told him he would hear front her in the future. Tette to her promise, on attaining the ago of ttventy•une a few weeks ago, she made in- to tries ns to the whereabouts of I{elk-, but her Whits for a thne were mtav'niling, until u emit:ereie] traveler happened to know a tarter eased Hell at WVorkeop, and ramie - eel to mate( inquiries. His mvesttgations proved the W orks:op man was rho one want- ed, lulu !moulted 1 !utter asking!tim to go to a station base llsuehoster. lie did so, Intl was mot by a oarria"o and pair, and token to the hone of the child -111M a wo- ntall--i•hustt life be hurl saved. Arrived there ho WAS hospitably uutertainod, and bofote leaving was presented with a hatd- sonm Auld watch, agclld gourd and mai, and $.1110 likewise in gold. The watch bore the foflowiugrtneeriptlon: "Presented to T. Kell! for his bravery la Steektcu•nn•Toes in 1874." Vaned tan Exports toIt Illa. The export of cotton geode from Canada tot ".vino, tleugh only aoumnatoell aboub a aunts format. At lash he found oma..,1 01,1' syn, is alrortdy 11 ttt5fml hugs propos- ,i •11a, the tut,tt amount already exported i Waxmun— A Vine itAH ToACT As rntvATL un, shout 1b,000 bale,. The goods made eeepota'y ; mast be ri good stenographer and foe "ow Chi»oss u7uuet are known as understood :G1.e11oi1 and Ootmatt. Onlyy a "s111.11n's ” They are shipped by the Cana- gentlemnu need apply. Address, J.T., 71ex, Alit, '('REVUI't'S SECRETARY, SS 11,11:1. or 14 Arthur 'Montgomery, having recovered from en attach of fever, turd being perunittcd to Sit ?)y then vviuduw' and !mol t,' int alto luxury of t cigarette, was relive. ten.' t' Hera We lire again," he •.tfd 1,, himself, es he blew a fragrant cloud not. rt the little hack wilidoW, mrd Watched it net; ,oc.,y (rave lumeet cps and elutuney, toward the t a t of pick eky which h mad that Ilia sun was ,•:!ting: "liar! Wt n,.. again l !lead brolte, vont not the sign of e eeut, nor of tiny week. I havo sent ,tote„ G, every city editor in town, and they all both mune than they want now. 1 have written to every ttut5arane and story Patna' tit Amer/ea, and they can't give 01e anopetei for the t. months, In the tuean- tim,,, the problem 10 be solved Ly toy rather worn brain ie he' t le. el'•ut"e to live tat wind tutci toy twee eeif t t a I don't peel, ely seo the a,r•wt•r, 1 equal the utthn ,ern quantity. That's good algebra, as far as it goes t but 1 don't see any more data to work on, Now, what ant I going to do about And Ire Itlew nut another cloud, watching it intently, as if its gyrations amnia atihrd some (lits to the answer of the question which wee troubling him. Arthur Montgomery had rearhed tete age .: • (.:gas's, ter,! „,.v „;..tn•„'lie•Itrindlitter- ateur by force of eirstmstalces. He had been horn the son cf very wealthy parent(. His utothee had died when he was only a child, and, being his fathers only caro, he had been brought tip noouatoted to every luxury that money could, purchase, He had beeneducxded at Met ilii College iti Montreal, had taken a fellowship at the ago of twenty, the University of Berlin. He eras et thorough musician, playing both the piano and the violin; he drew and painted exquisitely; and bespoke ]?ranch and German very, well. With such artecomplfshlnents, according to the commonly neceptod ideas of life, he ought not to have found it a difficult thing to get employment. Nevertheless, when he returned home from Germany, just in time to witness hisfathers's ruin and almost im- mediate death, and to find himself east out into the world, penniless, at the ago of twenty-three; he found it impossible to got any employment, Savo that which he sought as a last resort, namely, reporting for n daily paper. Sat three years ho worked like a dog, knocking about from one paper to another, sometimes earning forty dollars a week and sometimes tel, always living; from hand to to mouth, and always ctissathafied with the world and himself. Occasionally he aroused enough umbitiou in hie soul to write a magazine article or a story for some Amer- ican or Penglish publication, and bis work always paid him well. But ho woe at beet a lonely and unhappy fellow, his only com- fort being Iia pipe and his stories, at which he some lir.-c, rrottntl away until they mom - ed propnrt.im:. that rivaled the works of Smolbat and Sterne'. Carelessness and (rennin of overwork had broken down his health, and if it had not been for the kindness of his landlady and the friendship of his doctor, a young man, be wolf have boon tho innate of it hospital tit the tine when this story opens, As it was, he found him- self without a dollar in the world, friendless and amok, He lied ,ought for work, but had found none. Still, Arthur Montgomery was not tlto non to sit clown and weep over his misfortunes. Something of that eourtlgc- ons philocophy which his father bud posses- sed before him enabled hill to sit at Ifs window', smoke a cigarette, and lock his difficulties in the face, The store he looked at them, the more he disliked their appear- ance. There are tinter in a mot's life when the obstaelea in bis way seen to grow larger as he approaches them, There are timea avhnn it seems as if all the faith itt the world would not enable a titan to see the chains that bind the lions in the path. Arthur had arrived at one of these periods, and he was obliged to confess that the prospect vas anything but encouraging. Ho gazed ftp into the sky and stew n single star. Iu spite of his melancholy fcoling0, m remembrance Etta° across his mind that lightened his thought IIe rtrom,e, spread out hie arms, and tlec•laimed in ardente tones at the star : " nal on, thou ball, roll en 1 Through seas of inky air, Moll me 1 It's true I've got Ito shirts to wear ; It's t1 tie my butcher'. bill is due ; it's true my prospe, is all look blue ; But don't let that utmettle you t Hover you mind 1 Roll of 1" " It rolls on 1" he continued, laughing 1 " Good ; the star don't worry, why the dense should I? Sonetbingmust turn up." Then, after a moment or two of glance, ho said '"No; that will not de things don't turn up, Gess I'll have to go in on the Sohfllor plan : ' Only eourngo with smceess purenetbt, When the prize is beckoning o'er the field ; Only strength the power of fate attbdaetly While the weakling bas to yield,' That's the proper racket•. Mrs. Boggs 1 O1, Mrs, Boggs 1" "My gracious 1" exclaimed the ,hmdhtdy, appearing to answer to his Gall : "yots're improving ---at hetet, your lunge are.,' Indeed they are. Have you this event ing's Telegram?" "Yea.," "Will you gob it for me,pleaso?" 0 That I wail, bless your heart I" The paper being monied, Arthur sat down to study the whitens of advertise. y 1, elide 1'ua•ih0 ltatlway and etommo's to .-.SL, Telegram Ofbhee int,t • eti at lower rotes titan the Ameri0a11 --` ciroinft, er can obta;t , cousequenty the : ''1factty the thing 1" oxolaiuted Artbiue e an:Mi en makers reel) rte at] advent. "\Ter. Beggs ! litre, llngga 1" 1 , , f hiring the lineal year 11107 more than "'What now?" the landlady called from 1!,t,;;0,01H) yards of uncolored cettots were the floor below sap:i•ted from the port of Sat Francisco. " Will you lend 11to 0, shoot of pope!, and T hiring the f seal year Me; not one yard of an envelope, and a pen and ink, and a cent I ie eine; el exports by way of eta! Fran- stamp?" the:* t r:., repeirted, Tho Loy- movement, of " ) (coven befriend ua ! to t:}eroatything toreolt u•,1 sottens to China wce0 diverted to elan ?" an„+t It roads and the Vancouver route ” Not that 1 eau think of just nntv." dattims the camel year. TheTnterstattc Com. " 1'u .•taut to hear it." titeeee rt weed into full npnl;•tt n ioe s titan 70 a 1 ,J mimeos Arthur lutti this writing. tin el, I: enths before the close of the fiscal mateerale, and eat ]baht to write n Onto to veal. 1 a"r and this tranneruthlci.mtal nave- ",f. '1"' mew' r n. ss over American linea ceased "1 auppoce this Is pretty late in the day, shin . ,; 1 u,l dtil and some outer follow will get fu ahead of zoo ; however, it's wrath a trial." ,ledge Smelait, of iiamilton, has been And he oeaily persuetleel the kiwi old order,' bey int physician to take further va• landlady to go out and mail the note. The cation lee three months fur the benefit of his next afternoon he received the following an. health, aural. • .. , T•S:tdS�fR u nr.,, nusr.h•, 1 (Jt•t .,r ItiOli 1 ]Leat•: h : leoear. greet, of r:?U preel.ely, .loll •; Tam "It. 11r, :lrfluu' Montgomery. rr 1 t Irve !" exebaia"d .lrtbur : " that looks like business. Now, vault the lovil can L w'car to impress the old gentleman? I guess 1'l1 have to wear toy dress•sttit, eo 1 have nothing else lit to be seen. Accordingly, at preeisoly half -post aewen Arthur rang the bell of an ebegantumnsien, in St. ,leer• e Street, mei was admitted bye servant in livery, who rmodes:te l hint to the library. In that roost sat 0 tine -looking man of :!bout lhftydiee, who turned lila head sharply as Arthur entered, '"Mr, Arthur \feud tncry, I tippcce 1" le :;aid. " \'ee s ce e • o - u ; hove I the li n ,1 f nrklroSa fitg Mr. Trevor ;" 1 " That 1 t name • tit down. 'h o s 11 v11 d you wear a drne.t 11 , hen you cones to call upon a gentleman on burdue;:s?" " I have, nothing else to wear, sin" I " Humph 1 Yon are honest." It is needless to detail the conversation between the two man. }Witte to say that Arthur was engaged as private secretary to , John Trevor, oot'ehnattand politician, The terms of the othgagoment were that Arthur should live in lir, Trevor's house, at - tuna to all his political correspondence, an- ' company hint to Mar wa•choueo and attend to 1710 business letters, and assts! bi to with what eves• work be might have to hart to , do in the evening, which, 1111•. Trevor said, 1 would not be much. \Vhilo I amploy you as a servant, Mr. Montgomery," said the merchant: ' I do not wish to lace you in the position of one. Therefore, I give you a redid iu My house a OWE, al, r,t; f ,11., r..- v:•ill beep i yourself informed on the political ane, bust - nese questions oithenity, and be ready to act as a sort of ready reforence-book to me." " I shall do my best," replied Arthur. " When atm you wino ?" "To -morrow, if you wisllit, sir." 'Very well. ; come here to -morrow after - " at half -past four. and you can then bo settled before dinner -tine." As a natural consequence, the Next after- noon Arthur took lite departure from the house of Mrs. Boggs, with many blessings • from that good-hearted old lady, and many promises soots to cancel his indebtedness to tier, and betook himself, with his few world- ' ly possessions, to the St. George street man- sion. A charming little room was shown , him, and ho felt quite elated at his pro- apcets. "Koro be a change, indeed," be said: " blest if; I'm not lucky after all." • He had carefully made some inquiries of the servant who tools hint to his room, in re- gard to the customs of the house, and learn- ed that he was to dine with the family, and that i11r. Trevor always wore full evening dress et dinner, " Mr, .trchic, the only sou, sir," said the rcrvant : "is travolin' in Europe, and you'll be pleasing the old than, if yon tense evenin' dress," "Thant! you," said Arthur, es he closed the door• Ila then careful, arrayed himself in his ' ' purple snot fine linen,' and Prepared to take his first dinner in the Trevor house. In duo time, the bell rang, and ho descended tiro stairs with some trepidation in his heart. It seemed so long sone he had sat down to a table where refinement existed, that he was not sure that he remembered ,tow to comport himself. Ho had been knocking about the world so loosely for the past three years ; somotimos he had possessed money enough to dine at tho expensive restaurants, and, with true Bohemian epirit, bo never kept a dollar say longer than he coned help. Hence, it was more fregamttly his lot to dine on corned -beef and beats ; and, to do him justice, it euited him just as well as the other, But now he was going to lline in stato,with a genuine city "swell." Somehow, its he went done the stair's, the memory of bygone days stole into his soul, and ha felt that he was in the atmosphere to which he belonged. "Yes," he muttered : "Ifael very much rat I imagine Satan would, if he were taken back to heaven • only, like him, I know that I have been kicked oat ref the place once, and ant now admitted in a humiliating mummer." He entoi ed the library, where Mr. 'l'rovor was standing with his back to the fine - plana. "1 was waiting for you, Mr. Montge eery," he said, kindly: "you might feel a little bashful at entering a strange (lining -mom alone." "Ion aro very kind, air," said Arthur, "It's only oammol decency, sir," answer- ed the old gentleniau. He entered tho dining room, Arthur !'ol- lowing. Our young friend was by no means a bad -looking fellow. He had wavy flaxen hair, that refused to be anything but dis- orderly, a peach -like complexion, a pair of big, dark blue oyes, a very handsome mouth, and mill! -white tooth, over which rested a silken, blonde urestaoho. In his evening dress he wea decidedly handsome, and he was per/only easy and graceful in all Itis movements. Consequently, Mrs, Trevor imd her daugher, Tloraeo, halving drawn them- selves up very stilliy in the expectation of being forced to meet an ill.looking ani, awk- ward fellow, manifestly out of place—a pro- spective proceeding .which /tan tiLraged their feelings, and made them grunt. bio anew at what they called "father's occentsloiby" — Were somewhat taken, aback when Mr, Trevor introduced this handsome:young stranger, looking so proper in his evening dress and so thorouglhly at ease, as his new private secretary. Arthur ate his dinner in profound silence ;• for, as no one spoke to ,tint; or, indeed, ap- peared e0 notice hint, save for the occasional guide glance: with which Miss Trevor observ- ed him, ho downed 11 bob to say nothing. He ate a very good dittner, and made a very thorough study of the two ladies, Mrs. Tro,ors wile a lino -looking old lady, with a certain tt el! in her eyebrows and a poanlfar turn of the corners of her mouth, which give her a rather suporoiliotto appear- aoeo, end which made Artlun• think flute she was the premien woman he bad over seen. There was Lute Santo Mount of pride in the daughtcr'u faeo; sod it was heightenocl, if anything, by her great beauty. Floenoe Trevor Was the belle of the sea- son, She hod been the belle of the last son, eon era eke bade fair to bo the hello of tho next Nothing like hoe had 1)00)1 Seen in yens :. That wits the unnnbuons decision of the ,yonitg uuumi ne leaders of s'ssiety, who 1:newbee only to Worship het. She Wes just twenty, and was full tit the bedding beauty of young womanhood. Her hair wnsa sleep, rielh Insert:, which, in the sunlight, had a tinge of gold in its high light., while in its shadow% It Was ulturtst black, TIct• forehead wits lou', broad and white 1u, anew, Iter ryas were "deeply, darltly, and wondorful- ly," hewn, and So tender, SO soft, SO nxpree- afve- that 110 mein over failed to'ndmit their (Til n n xTt rrti.) tAnna"nircnO .AennalRateenv V �y. a.1