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
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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