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The New Era, 1881-07-07, Page 2• July 7, 1881. eindowerea. Thou has not gold ? Why, this es gold. All clustering round thy forehead white; And were it weighed, and wee it told, could not vay iti worth to -night Thou east not wit ? Why, -what is this wherewiththou capturest many a Who cloth forget a tongue is his-. • As 1 wen -nigh forgot to -night i Nor station? Well, ah, well 1 1 own Tithe hast art piece matured, tee° quite Bo now Irate° thee to a throne ;. peein thy reign, rey queen to -night. -Ifarriet .lifenwen ,Eirabaii,in Scribner for X LOVERS YET. (By the author of « sfadothie's rover.") So eleven years plaited liire a long tran- quil dream. The sun rose and set, the tides ebbed and. ,flowed, spring flowers bloomed 8,nd died, the summer taloa smiled, autumn leaves of gclden hue withered on the ground, and muter snow fell; yet no change came to the quiet ..hgrueetead in the Rentish meadow% Beatrice and Lillian had reached their • sixteeeth,year and tyve fairer girls .were isehlom-seeClialeiS- VyvitinVeftortiliadinT been in vain; they were accomplished far beyond the ordinary rin, of young girls. Lillian inherited her father's talent for drawing l She was an excellent artist; Beatrice excelled in music. • She had a magnificent contralte voice that had 'been carefully trained. Both were cultivated, graceful, elegant girls, and Lady Earle often sighed to think they should be living in such profound obscurity. She do nothing; eleven years .had not changed 14ordaarle'rs resolution. Time, far from softening, embittered hire the more against his F1011,, Of.Ronald, LadyEarle heard but little. He was still in.Africo, ; he wrote at' rare intervals, but there was little comfort in his letters, • Lady Earle did what she could for her grandchildren, but it was a strange unnat. ural life. They knew no other girls; they had never been . twentymiles from Knutsford. All girlish pleasures and enjoyments were•a sealed book to them. • They had never been to a party, a picnic, or a ball; no life was ever more eimple, moraquieti more devoid of all amusement than theirs. 'Lillian was satisfied and happy; her rich teeming fancy, her artistict mind, and contented, sweetdisposition would have rendered her happy under any circumstancee ; but it was different with brilliant, beautiful Beatrice. No wild bird in a citge ever pined for liberty or chafed under restraint more than she did. She cried out loudly against the unnatural solitude, the isolation of such a life. Eleven years had done mach for Dora. The coy, girlish beauty, that had won RonaldEarle's heart had given place to 'a sweet, patient womanhood. • Constant association with one so elegant and Taped as Mrs. Vyvian had donefor her what , nothing else could have achieved. Dpra, had ciaoglit the refined, high -bred, aacent, the graceful, cultivated 'manner, The easy dignity. She had become imbued with Mrs. Vyvian's noble thoughts and ideas. • Dote retained twa peouliarities-one was a great ,dislike for Ronald, the other &sincere ' dteadbfall.460Vees fin -her ChildieirFioin her they heard nothing but depreciation of men. • All men were alike false, *Binders, fickle, oriel all love was nonsense and 4folly. Mrs: Vyvian •tried her best to counteract these ideas.; they .had this one evil consequence -that neither Lillian nor Beatrice would even dream Of naming subjeats to their mother; who ehould have been their friend and Confidant. If in .the books Lady Earle tent' there was any. mention cif this love their Mother dreaded • se, they went to Itra Vyvian' , or, puzzled over it themselves.' Withthese two exceptions Dora had become a thoughtful, gentle woman.. As her mind became more cultivated she understood better the dis- honor of the fault Which had robbed ;her - of Ronald's love. Ile fair face grew crimson when she remembered what she had done. - • • . It was fair and tranquil Viomanhood ; the dark eyes retained their wondrous light and beauty; the curling rings of dark hair were lumitiant as ever • the lips Wore adtatient7-teereet expressioin—Thre-elear, healthy othintry air had given a delft:tate bloom to the fair face. Dora looked more like the elder sister of the young:girls than their mother. • The quiet, half -dreamy Monotony was • broken at lad. Mrs. Vyvian was suddenly summoned home. ' Her mother, to whom she was warmlyattached, was said to be dying, and she wished her few last days to be spent with her%daughter. At the same time Lady Earle wrote to say that her husband was so ill that it , was im- possible forher to lock for Any • lady to supply Mrs. VYvian's place. The conse- quence waisthat, for the first time in their lives, the young girls •weter left' kir: a few weeks without a companion, ' and viithont surveillance. - • CHAPTER XVII; One beautiful maniing in May, Lillian went out alone to sketch. The beauty .of sky and sea tempted he; ; fleecy white clouds floated gently over the blue heavens ; the sun shone upon the wafer until, at tithes, it resembled a huge sea of rippling gold. Far off in the distance were the shining vehite Belle of two boats ; theylooked in the golden: haze like the brilliant wings of Some bright bitd. The sun upon the white Hails struck herfancy, and ,she wanted to sketch the effect.' •. It was the kind of moining. that makes life seem all beauty and gladness, even if the heart is weighed down with care. ' It was a luxury merely to live and breathe. The kayo were all springing in the woods; the, meadows were green; wild flowers blossomed by the: hedge -rows ;. the 'hirds sang gayly of the coming summer ; the white hawthorn threw its rich „fragrance all around, and the yellow broom bloomed on the cliffs: As she at there, Lillian was indeed no fair picture herself on that May morning; the•sweet, spirituel fine, the noble' head, with its crown of golden hair; the violet eyes, so full of thought; the Sensitive lips, sweet yet firm the white forehead; the throne of intellect. The little fingers that moved rapidly and gacefully over» the drawing were white and shapely; there was a delicate rose -leaf finish in the pretty hand, She looked fair and tranquil as the morning itself. The pure, sweet face had no touch of fire or passion; its serenity was all nen:Loved ; the Weld had never breathed on the innocent, ehild-like mind. A white lily was not more pute and Stainless than the young girl who intt amidst the purple heather, sketching the -white' far-off . So inteht as Lillian upon her drawing - that she aid not hear light, rapid Steps coming near; she was not aroused :tintil rich, musical voice tailed, "Lillia if you have not changed into a stone or statue, do speak." Then, looking up, she saW Be atriee by her side. 00 Lay doWn yoer pencil's and talk to the," Ham Beetriee, impericthely. "How unkind of you, tha °illy hiimen being it thie place who can talk, to come here all by yourself 1 What Sid you thirik was to beCome of me?" 441 thought you were reading to maratna," eaid Lillian, quietly, " Reading! " exclaimed, Beatrice. know 1 an tired of reading, tired of writing, tired of owing, tired of everything I have to d." i°1i 1a Ln looked up in wonder at the beautiful restlese face. ' "Do not look • good' at me," said tBeatrioe, impatiently. "1 am tired to death of it all. I want some ohmage. Do you think any girls in the world; lead ouch a life as we do -shut up in a rambling old farm -lame, studying from morn to night; *shut ia on one aide by that tiresome sea, imprisoned on the other » by fields and woods. How can you take it Re quietly, Lillian? I am wearied to death." "Something has disturbed yea this morning," said Lillian, gently, "That is like mamma," cried Beatrice; "just her very tone and words. She doe's not iinderittand, you do not . understand; 'mammals life 'satisfies her, your life contents you; mine does not content me - it is all vague and empty. I 'should welcome anything that changed this monotony : even sorrow would be better thantlk dead leYel-Pee day so like another, I Call never distinguish them." aro " lazdear Beatrice,. ,thialt_pea eayuig;" said Lillian. - "1 am tired of thieking," said Beatrice; • "for the 18,st ten years I have been told M ',think' and 'reflect.' 1 have thought all I can; I want a fresh subject," "Think how beautiful' those faroff white sail's look," said Lillian-" how they gleano in the sunshine.. See, that onelooks like a mysterious hand, raised to beckon us. away.". • "Such ideas are very well for you, Lillian," retorted, Beatrice. "1 see nothing in. them. Look at the 'stories we read how different those girls are from net They have fathers, brothers, and friends; they have jewels end dresses ; they have handsome admirere, who, pay them homage; they dance, ride, and enjoy themselves. Now look at us, shut up here with old and serious people." •• "Hush, • Beatrice," said Lillian; "mamma is not old," " Not in years perhaps," replied Beatrice; "but she seems to me old in sorrow; She is never gay or light-hearted. Mrs. • Vyvian is ver' kind, but she never laughs, Is every one sad and unhappy„1 wonder? Oh, Lillian, I long to see: the worldthe beightegay world -over the' seas there.- I long for it as an imprisoned bird longs or fresh air and green. woods." • 'Y�u would not find it all happiness," said Lillian, sagely, ' . "Spare Ille all truisms," 'cried Beatrice. Ah, sister, I am tired- of all this; for eleven years the sea has been singing the same swigs; those waves tate and fall juat as they cltd a hundred years since; the birds sing the same story ; the sun shines the same ; even the shadow of the great elms falls over the meadow just as it did when we first played there. I long to be away from the sound of the sea and the rustling of, the elmtrees. I 'mita to be whete there are girls of ray own age; and do its they do. It seems to -the we shall pi on reading and writing, sewing and drawiag, and taking what mamma calls inetruotive rambles, until ..on4 heads grew " is -n9t so bad -its' that, 13eatrice," laughed Lillian. ." Lady Earle soya papa must return B01130 day; then we shall all *go toliim." . • "I neverhelieve one werd •of it," • said • Beatrice; nadauntedly. f‘ At tithes I could almost declare papa himself Was a myth,Why do we not li*e. with him? :Why dees he never write? We never hear of or frore him, save through Lady Earle ; besides, Lillian, what de you. think I heard. • Mis..VyVian say once to gtandmamrdisS It Was that We.might not go to Earlescourt • at all -that if papa did not return, or died' young, all wotild go tee Mr. Lionel Deere, and we should remain here. Imagine that gate -living a long life; and dying at the time I " '• • "It is all ccinjeoture," said her sister. Try to be more contented, Beatrice. • We do not make oft own live; we have not the control of otir own destiny." . : "I should like to control mine," sighed Beatrice.'' •'• • . • • " Tryto be totitented, darling,"confirmed --the-sweetrpleadipg voicea--;-,-e-We-all love, „and adinire .you No one Was 'ever loved more dearly or better than y.oli are. The • days are rather long at times, but there are :all the wonders and beauties of 'nature •and art." • . • •, •: • "Nature and art are all very Well," e-:ried. Beatrice; " but.give me life." . She turned' her beautiful, 'restless face from the smiling sea; the south -wind dancing over the yellow gorilla eaught..up the words uttered in that clear, eausieal Voice,thadcarried' thein over the cliff to one who was lying, with • halfolosed •eyes under the id:Me of a large .tree -e, young than, 'With a dark, half -Spanish face - handsome with a octane kind Of beauty. He was lying there, resting upon the turf, epjoying the beauty of the morning. • As the musical tones reached him, and the , straitge words fell alien his ear,' he smiled, and raised his ' head .to see who uttered them. He saw the yoalig girls, but their faces were tutned Orem him ; those worda rang in bis ears. "Nature and art are all very•well; but give nae •.• . Who was it longed for life? Hir. wider - stood the longing s. he resolved to wait there until the girls went away.. Again he, heard the Baine voice : . "I shall leave you to yet= Una, Lillian. I wish those' same boats would come to tarry us away -I Wish . I• had 'wings and. could flyover thesea,' and see, the bright, grand wotld that lies beyond it. Goodbye; I am tired of the never-ending wash of those long; low vvayes," He saw, a piling :giti 'rise from the fragrant, heather, and turn to' descend the cliff. Quick as thought he rushed down by another path, and, turning back, can -strived to meet her half.way. "• Beatrice came singing down the: cliff. Her humor, never the seine ten minutes together, had suddenly chatiged, She- re. membered a new and beautiful song that 'Lady Earle had sent, and determined to go home mad try it. There came no warning to her 'that' bright summer mornirsg. The setith"Vind lifted the hair froth her brow, and wafted the fragrance of hawthorn buds and spring flowers to greet her, but it brought uo warning esessege ; the birds singing gayly, the sun shining so brightly, could wit tell her that the first link 111 a terrible chain waste be torged that morn- tlalf.Way down the cliff, 'where the path was steep arid natrow, Bestride suddenly met the etrenger. A. stranger was a rarity at the Elms, Only• at rare inter. vale did an artist or a tourist seek shelter and hospitality at the old farm -house. The stranger scorned: tb be a gentleman. For one moment „both storal still; then with a low bow, the gentleman stepped aside to lot the Vats girl pass. Ail he did CO, he hoted the are beauty of that brilliant face -he rethertibered the longing Words. „ , N'o wonder," he thought, "it is a bin• fot ;such a face as that tohe hidden here:" . The beauty Of these magnificeiat oyes *startled hire: Who Was ho?'WhitteoUld she be doing. here? . Beatrice, tureitg again, saw the stranger looking eagerly • alter her, with profound admiration • expressed in every halms of his face; and that admiring gaze, the first she had ever received in her life, aankdeep into the vain, girlieh heart. He watched.the graceful, slender figure until the turn of the road hid Beatrice ftoM • his view. Be followed her at a safe distance, and saw her cross the long meadow's that led to the Elms. Then •Hugh Fernely waited with patience until one of the farrn laborers came by, By judicioue questioning he discovered much, of the history ot the beautiful young girl who longed for life. Her face haunted him -its brilliant, queenly beauty -the dark, radiant eyes. Come what might, Hugh Fernely said to hitriself, he must flee. her again, On the following morning be saw thogirle return to the cliff. • Lillian finished her picture. Ever and aeon he heard Beatrice, »singing, ip a low, rich voice, the song that had charmed her with its weird beauty, - For men must work, and women must weep - And the sooner it's over, the sooner to sleep - And good-bye to the bar and its moaning, I like those words, Lillian," he heard her say. "I wonder bow soon it wilt be 0 over' for me. • Shall I ever weep AS the Rang 'Wept -yet;". This morning the golden -haired sister left theeliff first, and Beatrice sot reading until the noon...slay sun shone upon the sea. Her book tharmed. her: it was a story, telling of the life shaloved and longed for -of the gay, glad world. Unfortunately all the people in the book were noble, heroics, and ideal, The young girl, in her einaplicity, believed that they who lived in the world she longbd for, were all like people•in her book. • 'When she left the path that led to the meadows, she saw by her sidethe stronger who had met her the day before. Again he bowed profoundly, and, with nianywelh expressed • apologies, asked somes trifling •question about the road. • Beatrice keplied briefly,hylie,,,,sosuld not help seeing the. wonder o adnuraticin in his' face. Her own grew erimison wider. his gaze -he saw it, and his heart beat high with triumph, As Beatrice went through the .meadovi he walked» by her side:: She never quite remembered how ib happened, but in a few minutes he was telling her how many years, had passed since he had seen the • spring in England. She thegot all restreint, all prudence, and raised her beautiful eyes to his. " Ah, then," she tried, '0 you have seen the great world that lies) over the wide sea." • "Yes," he replied, 0° I have seen it, I • have been ' in. strange, bright lands, so different from 'England that they leemea to belong to another world. I have . Seen many o,f the wonders that books tell us of ..sunnyolimes, bright skies, and glittering seas, where the spice islands lie:" As: he spoke, in words that were fell of wild, untutored eloquence, he saw the young girl's eyes riveted Upon him. Sure of having aroused her attention, he bowed, apologized for hisIntrusion; and left her. Had Dora been like other mothers; Beatrice would have related this little. adventure and told'of the handsome young traveller who had been in 'Struve climes: An it was, ',knowing . her .mother's ttor dread of all men -her fear lest her children ehobld-loVe.' aiidimatryBeattioe!' iieVet named the subject.' She thought Much of Hugh -Ferneiy-not of hid himself, but of the woild he had spoken aboat-and, She hoped that it -Might happen to her to meet him • a,gilita. • . •• If we had...some brie here who' 'could talk iri that *ay," she isaid to herself.' ;0' The Elnis' would 'not be, quite so lump: portable." • • • ' • ' Two daYs'afterwaid Beatrice, wandering on the sande, met Hugh rernely. She saw -the startled look (sidelight on his lace, and -smiled MIAs pleasure. . • • "Pray forgive me," he said. "1-1 'cannot path you without one word. View has seemed to me like one long night since artful man into whose hands else had fallen Was her first admirer -the Ant who seemed to remember she was no longer a child, and to tacit her with deferential attention. liad she been, as other girls are, surrounded by friends, amoustonled to society, properly trained, prepared by the tender vvisdom of a loving mother, the would never have oast her proud eyes upon • Hugh Fernely; she would never have courted the danger or run the risk. As it was, while Dora preferred golitude; and nourished a keen dislike to her husband • in her heart -while Ronald yielded to obstinatepride, and neglected every duty 2 -while both preferred the indulgence of their own tempers, and neglected the children the Almighty had, intrusted, to them, Beatrice went on to her fate, It was so sad a story, the details so simple yet sio pitiful. Every element of that impulsive, idealistic) nature helped on the tragedy, Hugh, Fernely understood Beatrice as perhaps noone else ever did. He idealized himself. To her at length he became a hero, who had 'met with number- less adventures -a hero who had travelled and fought, brave and generous,' After a time he spoke to her of love, at first neeer appearing to suppose that elle could owe for him, but telling, her of his own fan 'halted' him, filled his dreams at night, and shone before him all day -how the very ground she stood upon was sacred to him -how he envied the &MEWS SIIQ touched -how he would give up 'everything to be the rose that died in law hands. It was all very pretty and peetical, and he enevir how, to find pretty picturesque spots in the woods, wherethe birds and the flowers helped him to tell his story. • . Beatrice fefind very pleasant • to be worshipped like a queen; there. was no more monotony for her. Every morning she, looked' forward to seeing Hugh -to learning moreof those wards that seemed to her like sweetest music, She knew that at some time or other during the day she saciuld see Mull he never tired of • admiring her beauty. Blameworthy was the sad mother with her stern doctrines, blameworthy the proud, neglectful father, that she knew not bow wrong all this was. He loved her; in a thrmsend eloquent ways he told her so. She' was his lode -Star, beautiful and peerless. It was fa e more pleamat t� sit en the sea -shore; or under the greenwood trees, listening to such words, than to peas long, dreary • hours in1ddore. And none of those intrusted with the care of the young girl • ever dreamed of her danger. Se this was the love her 'mother dreaded so much'. This was the love poets Sang, of and novelists wrote about, It was .very pleasant;: but when Beatrice herself came to love, slie knew that this had been but child's play. . ' • It was the romance of the stolen meetings» that charmed Beatrice. lf Hugh had been admitted to the Elms, she would. have wearied of hint. in a week; bat tbe con. cealment gave her something to 'think et There wits something to occupy het. mind ; every d she must arrange for a lomg so that she might meet- Hegh., - So, while the dote grew ripe in the fielcle, and the apple -blossoms died away --while • warm, luxiirioue suniniet ruled with' 'its golden „Wied-7-.Allikald Earle's daughter Went on. to her fate. • • .• • • I , CHAPTER XVXII. • At leegth there Otillle an'inter'ruption to , Hugh.. Fernely's love dream. The time :drew near When • he muet leave Seabay. • The vessel he commanded was bound for China, and was to saitin a few days, ..The thought thatbe must .leaSte the beautiful • girl he loved se dearly and so deeply struck . him With 'unendurable pain; he seemed onlyto.have lived singe he had met her, and he knew that life without her would be a burden:toe' great for hitn t� bear. He asked himself a hundred times ()Vizir; "Does • she love me?" He could not tell. He resolved saw you last. to try. He dared not look that future in • He held in his hands some beautiful lilies of the valley. -every little White waxen bell Was perfect. He cifferedthem» to her with a low ,bow. . •• " This irs the most beautiful flOvver I baste seen for many years," he seid. "May I be forgiven for begging permission to offer it tathemaost--beautifuLlady T hav.e_e.vet.. seen.2 " •• Beatrice toOk: it from ' blushing at his words. He walked by her side along theyellow steads, the'ws.ves rolling in and breaking at their feet. • Again hiiselopence charmed her, . He told her his name, mid how he was oaptain of a• trading vessel, Instinctively he seemed to understand her character, her romantic ideal' way of looking at everything. Re talked to her of the deep seas and their many Wenders ; of the ocean naidto be fathomless; of the coral islands and of ' waters in *hose depths the oyster cOntaining the pale,gleare. ing pearl is found; of the •cpliet nights ispent at see, where the *stars shine as they never seem to shine on land; of the Strange hush that falls npon tho heeving waters before a storm. He told her of long days when they wee becalmed upon the great deep, When the vessel seemed A painted ehip upon epainted ocean. With • her rnarvellops fancy and quick imagination she followed hire to the wondrous depths of silent' waters where -strange shapes, never seen by human eye, 'abound. • She hung upon his , words; he Raw it, a.nd rejoiced in his *success. He did not startle her by any further compliments, • but when their walk was ended he told her that morning would live in his 'memory as the happiest time of his life. • 'After a few days it seemed to become a settled thing that Beatripe' sheuld, nicest • Hugh Fernely. Lillian •wondered that her sister's° often preferred lonelyrambles, but the saw the beautiful face she loved so dearly grow brighter and happier, never 'dreaming the comae. . ' • , • For many long days little theught. of •Hugh Fernely came to 13edttice. •Her • 'ncund ran always upon what h e had told her - upon his description of what he had seen and heard, • Ile noted this, and waited with patience, ban of love, for the time when she should take in, interest in hird, • Words were weak in which to express the passionate love he felt for this beautiful and stately yeeng girl. It seemed to him like a faity tale; onthe mornilag he first saw' Beatrice he had been walking, long 'distance, and had lain down to rest on the cliffs, There -the beautiful vieion had • dawned upon hire The firet moment he gazed into that peerless face he loved Beatrice With a passion that frightened himeelf. Ile deternathed to win her at any wet. ' • • • At last and by slow degrees ite began to speak of her and himself, slowly • and carefully, his keen eyeeepting every thange upon her face; 'he began to offer her delitate compliments, and flattery ne well disgeised that it did hot seem to herflattery at all. ' rfe intide her understand that he believed her to be the most betsutifill girl he had ever vohold, tro treated her elstra,ye as though shower.° e queen, and he ber humblest sloe, SlaWly but sturdy the meet peinon Worked its Way; the day came 'what that graceful, subtle flattery »was necessary to the very existence of Beatrito There Was Ina& to excuse her; the cleveri the face.which 'should take her from him, The time.drew hear ; the day was settled on which the Seagull was to -set and yet Hugh Fernely» had won no prothise Iron Beatrice Earle. • •One morning Hugh met her it the stile leading froth the fields into the Meadow ' Lane -the prettiest spot in. Knutsford. The ground was a perfectlrbeautiful carpet» of . flowersr-wild hyacinths; Purple fox. • gloves, pretty, pale strawberry blossoms •cell grew there, The hedges were one mass of.wild roses and woodbines; the tell elm. trees that ran along the lane met shadily ovethead ; the banks on either side were radiant in different colored manes; huge • ferns surroundeathe roots of the trees.. Beatrice liked the quiet of pretty, green Meadow Lane. She .often .walked there, and on this eventful' morning , Hugh saw. her sitting in the midst of the fern' leaves, He was by her side in a minute, and -his dark, handsoine face lighted up with 'joy. " ow the euri shines?" he. amid; "I wonder the birds begin to sing and the flowers to bloom before you . come out, Mies Earle."• , "1 am not their sun," .replied 'Beatrice', with a smile. • "But. you are. mine," cried Hegh ; and befcsre she could reply he was kneeling at her feet, her hands clasped his, while he. told liernof the love that wars -wearing his life away. • • , No one could listen • lc such words unmoved; they were true and eloquent, full of stra,nge pathos. He told her how dark withott her the future would be to him how sactand Weary hielife ; -whereas, if she would only love him and ' let him • claim her when he returned, he would make her happy as a ,,queen. Ile . would take her to bright, sunny lands--vvould shOw her all the beauties and wonders she longed to see -would buy her jevvels and dresses such as her beriuty deserved-watild lie her humble, devoted Wave, if she would only love him - It was very pleasant -the bright morning, the picturesque, glade, the warnith brightnese of summer all atoned. Beatrice looked at the handsome face pale With 'emotion, tihe felt Hugh's warm lips pressed to her hand, the felt hot tears rain upon. her fingets,, and. Wondered at such love. Yesethis was the love she bad toad of and • theught about. •- • • "Beatrice," eried Hugh, 1° do not wido me withfrene word. Say -you will love me, ray darling -say / May- return and claim You as my own. Your whole life shall be like tine lotambrightaumarers day." - - - She was carried away by the burning torrent of passionate words, With all her spirit and pride she felt weak and power. less before the mighty love of this strong man. Almost unconscioue of 'what shelaclid, • Beatrice had her white hands apon the dark, handsome head of het lover, • "Hush, hush!" she said, " you frighten me. I do loVe you; see, your tears wet -11:97 • 1thwates''not a very cetheisiestie response, but it satisfied hint Pie clasped the young gift in hits arms, and she did not resist; he kissed the proud lips and the flushed cheek. Be'atrice Earle oti,id word; she was half frightened, half touched, and wholly eubdued. . "Now you are mine," Cried Ilugh2--"reite, my own peerless one; nothing shell part tis but death!" ' " Math 1" Cried Beatrice, again %shudder- he uirisge aitiv, with cold fair. "That is a Word dislike time dread so Much, Hugh -de no proud te lwovinendihnegt shoerd,early-hehe iwista:nes L411 Be.aqtricweillorngo°tti" iff''ittePrei.ed ;Healld wasihes terough, the long hours of that Bunn morning. It Wag the 15th of July -»-h made her note the day -and in two year lie would return", to take her forever fro tarketapwieetrehobttelevtere her beauty and grao That was' the view of the matter that had seized upon the girl's imagination, It was net so much love for laugh -she liked • him. His flattery -the, excitement of meeting him -his love had become necessary tc* her; but, had any other' meanis of escape from the monotony 'she hated presented ithelf, ehe woeld have availed herself of it quite Eta eagerly, laugh was not so much a lover to her as the medium of Wave from a life that daily became more and -more unbearable. • She listened with bright ?miles when be told her that in tare years he shoule return to claim, her; and she, thinking roach of the romarice, and little of the dishonor of coneeshnent, told him. how her sad young »mether hated and dreaded all -mention of love and. levers. " Then you Must never tell her," .be said -'0 leave that. for me • wail I return. 1 shall laave =they then, and perhaps have the conimend of a. fine vessel. She will not refuse me when she knows how dearly I love you; and even should your father- thelather you telt meof--come home, you will be truat9 ree,Beatrice ,will yoa not?" "Yes, I willhe true," elle replied -and to do her justioe she meant it at the time, Her father's return .seemed vague and uncertain; might take place hi ten or tweaty. veers -it might never be, Hugh Offered lietfreedepa andliberty in twoygars. • " Others should seek your love, • he said, shoulcl praise your beautyrand cigar you rank.or wealth, yen will say to yourvielf that you will be ,true. to Hugh ?" • • "Yes," the said firmly, " will do so." "Two years will scion pass sway," said ,he. Ah, Beatrice " lie cobtinuedi ." I shall leave you nexti,Thursday ovainc all the hours you tau. OlICE away from you, all time will seem to the a • long. dark •nigIllt to': happened' • that. the farmer and .his • mee were at wore in a field quite on: the other sideef Iteutsford. Dora and Lillian were intent, . the one upon .a. box of books newly arrived,. the other upon a: picture; so that Beatrice had. every day many hours for her disposal. ' She spent them ell with Hugh, whose love seemed to in - creme with every moment . • Hugh was to leave Sermay on Thursday, and en the Wednesday eventhg be lingered by her •side ;as though he could not part with her. To do Hugh Fernely justice, he loved Beatrice for herself, Had she been e penniless beggar he would have. loved her just the same. :,'The only dark cloud in his sky was the knowledge that she was far shove him. : ' Still he argued teliiinself, the • story she told of het :father was an.irnposs-' ible one. Iledid not believe theelloneld Earle would ever: tithe his .da,ughtera.. hMrie, ,--he did hot quite know What -to :think, but he had, no fear. on thatecore. . • On the:. Wednesday they WeaderedileWii arid at 'ate - shore, watching the sunset overthe.watets. Hugh took from his pocket a little morrow case,' and pliseed. it in :Beatrice's( beside. She oiiened it and 'cried out with admire: - tide ; there lay the most Ma:sellout ring she had ever seeti;of pure pale' gold, delicate' and elabitietely chased, and •got with, three gleaming opals of rare beeuty, "Look at the motto inside," • said Rugh.: ' • . • • .7. She held the, ring in her dainty white fingers, :awl read,'" Until death part '00, Oh; Hugh," the cried. "that word bagefaoirnt1;tmI elela' 4•it why• , is' •I't•147r.ays• •C°3211.ng He:pealed at.her fears,,end asked her to et hire place the ting upon her. finger: 0' In,two years," he. said, °q shall place 4 plain gold ring -en this 'beautiful head. Until then :wear this, Beattie's; for my sake; it is our betrothal ring." tt It 'shall 'sot leave my •finger,'..' she said. 'MammaWill notmotice it, mid everYone el:les:1.1,1, think the. has :iitea it to the s" And now," said. Hugh, " promise me nee mere, Beatrice, you will be kale to vie' •yeti, will wait for me -2 --that svhen. I return you will let the chi:rm.-you as my own." • I do picitnise," she.. said, ' leaking .at he sun shining On the Opals. • 'Beatrice • . never forget • the hour • that ollciwed. Proud, inapettious; and miperial a • 'she ' Was, the, young man'e °love and, °mese teached. her as nothing had Mier one, The sunbeam's died :away in the west s• the glorious Mass of tinted clouds ell like a, veil over the evening sky; the waves came in rapidly) breaking into heats of • white, • creamy . foam in the athering darkness; but *still he small not eave her. . : . "I must go, Hugh," said Beatrice, at ength.; , "mamma will raise me." ' • She never forgot the -wistful eyes. linger - ng upon his face. • "Once More, only once More," he, said. 'Beatrice, nay Own love; when • I return ouvill be my wife?" • ' • • rie`faesn,4"behifielorvepel.ied,.efartleil , alike by »his* Itt'N 3,0evtierwbeerefalsep,e he colatineed.',. 0' Whitt then? "she asked with. a made, a hepaused.; , • . . ehould either. kill myself Or you,"' he eplied ; perhaps both. *Da not make.ine ay such :things. .It. could net be. The sun arfall from the heavens, the sea' rolling here may become dry land • nature-- Verything thlay prove false; but not you, he noblest, the .truest of women. Say I love you, Trugh,' and let those be your sat Worda to mei •'They will go with me ',teethe wide ocean, and be thy rest and tay," .• • • • • , • '1 love you, Hugh," she said, nil he ished her. • • , Something like edeep, bitter 'sob cisme Om his white lips. Death itself would ave seemed, easier thandeaving her. He' aised her beautiful fade to his -his tears ud kisses seemed tohern it -and then be as gone.- • ' -clone! Tlui romance ..ef the pitit few oaks, the engtossing 'interest, had all eddenly collapsed, -Twirforrow the old onotonous-life reuet'begin:again; without attery, praise, or love. He was gone, e whole toineace Was ended, nothing of reniained 'save the Memory of his ve and.the rieg upon her finger., ' At first there fell epen Beatrice a dreadful blank. The monotony, the qtiet, the simple occupatiotis, were moteunendur- able than ever; but im a few days that feeling wore off, and then she began to wonder at What she had done. The glamor fell • from before her eyes; the noVelty and excitement, the pittance of the stoke meetings, the 'dement homage of love and Worship, no longer blinded her. Ali, and before Hugh Ifternely had been many dive and nights upon the Wide wean dm ended by growing tether athateed of the matter, and trying. to thirds of it as little as she couM 1,'Onee ithe half tried to tell Lilliari ; bat the look of rror on the street, pure fano defiled her, and she turned the subject by some Merry jest. Then there came a letter Irani Iltfra. Vyvian, announcing her return, The girls were warrply attached to the lady, who. • had eertainly devoted the beet ten yeare ot her life to them. She brought With her many novelties, new booka, new mind°, amusing intelligence from the outer world. For some days there was no leek of excitement and. areesement ; then all fell again into the old routipe. • Mr. Vyvian saw a great change in Beatrice. Some of the old impetuosity had died away; the was brilliant as ever, full of life and .gayety ; but in some Way there was an indescribable' cbange, At tirees a strange oaths would come over the beautiful face, a far;off, dreamy expression steal into the dark, bright eyea. She had lost her old frankness, Time was when Mrs. Vyvism could read all her thoughts, and very rebellious tholights they often were. But now there seemed to be a sealed chamber in the girl's heart. She, • never spoke of the future and for the trot time her watchful friend saw in her a. nervous fear thatdistressed her. Carefully . • and cautiously the governese tried to • ascertain the cause; elle felt sure at last ,that, young as she wesicarefulty-rd shelled' been watched, Beatrice Earle bad a secret in her life that she shared with no one else. • • To be continued. ECCENTRICITIES OF' TEMPERliTIME. some iVenderfigli Facts boat the Cana. tibia Signal Service. A writer in the Globe, referring to the benefits derived froth the meteorological» observations made at various points in the Dominion, says: Some of the facts shown in the- reports.' at the ,Obeervatery are astonishing. Spence's Bridge, in Britieh Columbia, reports year after year a spring beginning in February, a decidedly warm spring-like March, a hot simmer, a plea- sant fall, and a very variable and eictreme winter. Xu Hummer the !tertiary sometimes ranges for days together ., up to 100 or 101 • in the shade The . . . rainfall at this station is light. Ham- ilton, Ontario, and several other Ontario stations show swimmers as long and as het .• es those of Southern Europe. Parts of Newfotindland appear» to lieve autumns ; milder than the ,most favored parts of °Marto, and winters scarcely any colder then those of Essex. Fort, MeLeod in the far Northwest shows a winter climate which will not permit snow to lie ou- the ground for more than a few days at a time; and also a greater shade of heat than has yet. : been recorded in the Northern or Southern States past of the Mississippi River -109 0 having been reached at th e Fort in 1077, But more surprising still is thasammer record or YorkFactery,on Hudson Bay,ie 1878: June opened viitli genuine winter weather, bfit within three days the mercury rose to 90 0 ' the shade, and reached a daily average of , 90 '? for EiX weeks in succession. On the • ten days the Mercury was above 100 0 , and :on one 'day» attairtert. e • height of 100 °- which is the highest ea record at Caleatta,. Therainfaillurieg. -.firm_ petted.' was:trellyszs tropical, Mint:hes falling iu june-and 15 in• • July.: ,• This hot spell. far surpassed in , -int:nimbi the 00-hetwaye" which pro:wetted' With such fatal results in St. Louie daring , • portion of the ;same time. Rut ot course . it was truly exceptional, auriug " , • summers) the ;mercury rerelyoacceeds 800 ,at York Faetory. • . : " " Neither, Keewatin; retordis the lowesi. temperature yet known in the Noithattest -ea 0 boldly zero, a degree. of cold which the narratoth af Arctic explorations rarely , then:blot..• . What Ile Saw le I14:stven mad Melt. • .A.t the Social Seiente Sisterhood rooms. 'a Sunday 'or two &Wu Mr, Davis upbraided ' the sisters for ignoring the -Bible'. ana believing in God. /Weald he had been in heaven and described what he sew there: "1 'walked the golden streets and picked:up •'. the glittering rubles and flashing diamonds that ley aroundloose. saw hell, tho: I ; stecid upon the brink and looked down into.. the seething abyss, and saw the fierY» bil- lows as they leaped andlicked the side's of the_pit of ere.--I-oase--letn-ef-avil--one " a -howling 'and apraying,s,nd cursing, and they asked, me to get them out,but you • keow I couldn't .do that. When • I got, . through listening to the lost cursing and shouting, I went aroana heaven Some, and •ttaiv'the beautiful,rows of children laid out' there. I saw my, mother and sister there, sittingupon the rightland of God. -Ohl I've been there. See here! Does a an's • life live after him when he is 'gone? Just , you look at our Washington and our. Lin- coln, and lots' of others, of them. I saw them . all up there, leaning op Abraham's ' bosom. I'm sure of one thing ; that is, God' is not going teput mein hell, for 1- have been • dead, 'three times already. Heaven is My place, and the next time Igo I'm going to stop." ' ' Whe New Jerusalem. • •New 'ideas are working into 'Palestine. A new city is going up on thewest aide of jerusalere, 'outside of the .gates. Along the turnpike to Jaffa rufits the telegraph mire; . and' °lithe plain of ,Sharon • stands • the. large 0' Jewish. Agtioultivai 001.91400d by a Model farm and • thrifty nureeries. Bethlehem is a thriving town -largely it is nominally Chriatian-and' it carries • on . extepsiee manufeetares itt mother-of-pearl. The . Bethlehereitea brought back from out Centennial Exhibi- tion at Philadelphia about 070,000 as the net profit of the sale of their beautiful Wares, If- Patesithe were only delivered ' from the tyro:Way of the Sultan, or were ruled by each a man as the Pasha Roulff (the Governor cif Jerusalem), it Would rise rapidly into it neer era of economic pro- wess. The Sultana, touch and.tread ate deatla.-Rev: 2'heo4ore L, Gallia' in the ' . ' To BE Sureeiszerm.-The Chicago' Tinto ,says Nobody pays the slightest attention • to Mr. Armen, the Costly weather.pre- • dieter of the United States, fer Mr. Hazen is a fizzle as "Old Prob." Even Ohio, which threst him ipto the place for whieh • he had no capacity: looks for its weather news, elsewhere: Sere is .air. Haintead printing advices from Yonne; who says: "1 regret to have to warn you of a hot and. stormy July, with frequent disastrous storms of wind, hail and rain throughoet» those aeetions in which the June storms ,have been so severely felt. Tho month will resemble that of 1880 rather than 1879." Woeldn't it be a stroke of policy to ask Mr. Vennor to take Mr. Hagen's rilvaieteg, ?and let Hazen set about earning a The Danish royal family ordered the sale of the effeets of the late 11Ordditaty PrillOSSS darOlitte, which began on Tuesday. The property offend included diathende and brillienta (some of which weigh fourteen carat's), 10,000 ourmea of wrought silyer, fine old hroozos, old porcelain and Ohandeliere, eta The hereditary Princess' relations to 7 " her family and people were of a peculiar character, and at her death the population ' vented its feelingn in art ettitok On the futeral procession by the excited Mob.