Evening Star Newspaper, January 6, 1872, Page 2

? - j ‘ARM-PORCH. He smiled so winningly that the wretched wo HOW IT FEELS To BE DEAD. ALONE IN THE F. Hier lips twitch when she sees Janet. ,, "Some, | man Celt all bareld oye or him vee iekee | a Ye Sees His Own Corpse { From Appleton’s Journal} « He's up by Neptune’s Tower,” said Janet, beneath oes eS — ‘She moored — keep from throwing ‘ond wears Faneral Ser. 1 — a the life of me, what silsmy or seebd deg Buctor Sone nae Janet, too, in he Ted Atte % aay Ba- fields stand out in the ; and him janet: pod sate. ‘rom the Fort Wayne Sentine! aecimeeet iphone ca ae ee | Hivecsaere oat Pane moead otnae imist—it | “Zin tell oueverything,” he sald; “but rst, Seine mekee piaedties ethers Wee ane But, whether f look this way or that,comr UP ® LLT'the girl paseed by ker and’ went inte ‘as It | where's Janet?” different scene, kitchen. ot Mrs. Limber could not check the anger that ‘Aoif another pictare hed cumehow stigped between: | SitG Lom entered. forward | flamed in her eyes. Ker father's apple-orchard, and we two loitering | << What a fool Dick is; where’s the use of my ot rocks be | iccaneel Yes don’t su e that Zenct_ hee 1 should: ‘have stayed s minute; I hadn't one to | maxing chances fr in he won't take them ee eer | ae ny anaphter inlaw if yo nnd een 1a on'y Just coms over to try and borrow a plow; | "Janet had gone to her own bedroom. The cheerily | a few days tater, Never mind Janct, Stephen.” But the sight of her put my barry right out of my kitchen, as it was called, was really the living ‘m. beige on frosty air, came the sound of dis- All the love she felt shone out in her dark head acmebow. | room of breton the parlor = = ot = a hated a Rg = church-bells ringing Fall sted peal = | phe gees SS lossom: thick too fortab statel el janet m: My care though warned eee spe amen only used when the parish | loves? “She hasno depth of tecing’’ ‘This was the peal that ashore ta: e birth. | her glance afterwards. — : and the; set out upon their Yes, and I'm likely to mind them as long as any lest or the squire’s family called on Mrs. | in answer to a oe conscience. ‘She is | day of the Lord. She looked up as she listened. | at_do you mean?” he said, sternly. | return. The had nearly ed the mainiand thing | Limber. The kitchen was free to all comers, | just the girl to The moon had sunk much lower, and the stars Some of the bx aghs, | remember, were just e sight tee The bads were a6 rei as roses, all over the top of | the tee. | Theld « branch while she stripped it, till, shaken | ont 0 A bee from | e, eof the broken flowers came flying into her face She screamed. and I—1 kissed her, just for a cure, now. And she Brushed til) her cheeks wore pinker than the pinkest apple-blow. | And so—and so—we were married before the spring came round again | Under this roof we lived tozether five happy years, and then— well Bat why do« cht’ Ix sae Perbap= remembering too, up there, and calling down ty me* Mark s wife would laugh at that—no matter ' for al here ty school, It doe I take it, that I'ma nataral fool sminute, eness— There t fellow, There's things enough thi old man. never mi . | tit Imm sure she means to There's nobody here to miss me, or, leastways, not lor } ‘T thick, for a little—I mastn't do him f a son to me in all these years ver than water: & to bis own. 1fue, aed her boy have made the only ree, a man home 1 promined Inst to the Tad; dying, the homestead should g> at Why no*’ There's nobody nearer, n> wife nor ch: te mind: Dead borh dead, be long bell Uve somehow taken @ notion that the first thing I shall » When I open my eyes in another world, will be that | red bloomed tree: The burden of years will drop away, and, young and lately I've thought I shouldn't ind. } and strong again. = I ebali meet ber under the orchard-boughs just as I met ker then. Auother lough for Mre, Mark’ it’s lucky she isn’c re Visiti @ of the neighbors, and Mark's in th» ow near ‘There's nothing stirring about the house but Rover there on the stone: es and talk to night ?— Do I miss their fac was less alone. (Rate Prrxa Ox THE TOWER BY THE SEA. ! “How much longer are you going to stand there i lay on the turf some minute the slender figure on the very ver, ° muttered, and he got sin. fellow with good speci- a broad ehest, p brown hair h, but with a peculi pression th ok from their simplicity, mouth and a nose that any one might have been proudof. Richard was two-and-twenty; amanly, aetive man. who could hold his own’ tor field sport one in the county, and it that Janet Neale should pay le her now, and, heron that dangerow: firm hold of her arm. She terned round sharply. She did not seem startled, only annoy “Te » here fora little peace—a littie chard. Oh, don't follow me about or I shall ha y ty of earnestness in the w ception, tw his cousin's moods. fr freedom, like a dog en defiance, in his t to him over her d him im ap face. ¥ of a delicate skin t face was thinand x far-reaching biue eyes were in their earnestness. ‘t speak to me in that way. at L came here for a little rest aily tormen She pointed in- . far off, but still within sight, a king farmstead nestled on the side of a 1 wonder why I e and gracef had the beaut: th ha n't you see th from all my ds tat wh 4 by this appeal. anet. I was a fool, and 1; oaly you know wha Ob, Janet! bat if you Ste ap ail geld be so muc erybor itisns from seltists "His cousin's hard, unmoy2d looks made his tone less confi- dent. “It is chieny fer vou—you’re grown so pale and altered. You'll be ill, | know vou will my dear girl, and then what ever will becom? ot me?” « How can you expect me to take your advice if you won't take mine?’ she said, and her face softened to a smile. ** Bat Iwill. I'll do anything yon say, if you'll only put this out of your head. Why, haven't you read it as plain as plain could be, in all the Papers, that the merehanf ship Atlanta was lost, with allon board ? It’s not in reason to go on and persist forever, as you do, Janet. You are only killug yourself by inches.” r The girl looked very grave, but her voice had lest the harsh tone of her first word “I shall net resist forever; that would be wicked. It would be like the girl in the old b: lad we used to read when we were young, Dick How sweet hereyes grewnow! Richard writhed nd turned away his head as she looked at him. {Don't von recollect the gir! who complained to “Sew down punishment on her sin? ; I can't say what I will after that, Dick.” This was in answer to the eager ques: tion in his eyes. “ Perhaps I mayn’t ere. Whe knows what may Bappen betore Christ- mas Then with a sudden change from plaintive softness to cheerful raillery, **Come come, Dick, be a man; don’t listen to your step- mothers. She always makes mischief between us, though she does not mean it. You go and see Lucy Gray. She's worth fifty of me, and she'd make you such a fond, faithful little wire, 1 know she would. Richard's eyes blazed with anger. Lucy, be hanged! What right suppose I want a fond wife—a fond i who doesn’t know how to say a word "girl who would “¥ S thank you, Janet; when I take be harder to win than Lucy Gray.” “Richard, I never said Lucy loved you. 1 mean that she loves no one else; you are not robbing another if you try to win Lucy. If 1| were a man, Richard, ! wouid have a love of | my own—she should not belong to some one | else.” Before he could stop her the girl sprang past | him, and hurried along the road which wound like a white ribbon acruss the green downs to the farmstead under the hill. About half-way Vy by? road the farmstead shows better than it trom @ nearer point. ot the cliff the ground f keeping with trace of country pot a trace band, while she Jane. | amd that the position with Richard. Why, ro z and lately Janet had often been glad of taking contented she is this boorish life. She fage in her own bed-chamber, trom the con- | knows no better.” . at aud uncongenial society that founditsway ‘Then she spoke to Janet in such tender, win- to Hillside. ning words, and ie her arms so fondly round ‘The staircase led from the kitchen; | her, that the girl re; herself for the ing up, you found yourself at the end of a | Judgment she had gil now passed om Mra Lim | ag ratte with wafnscot walls, andfrom either t—she had heme 2 her hind and hospitable, side ot which a number of bedrooms opened | but bonnet bas he some with huge beams across the ceiling. Since her old nurse died, two years ago, Janet Janet opened the door of a good-sized room— | had kept her confidence to herself aud this dark from its oak- led wi and small lat- | unexpected affection, coming when her heart tice window—dark, too, from the Lo} red | was so full of pent-up joy, disarmed all prudent ings of the hugo four-post bed, and | reserve. She turned round, hid her face on Mrs. Lim- ber’s shoulder, and cried quietly. “Poor, dear child—I am so d—so very giad! And does Uncle Edward approve of this attachment?’ Janet looked up and wiped her eyes. « T should like to trust you,” she said, and the and cheval glass; the old dark had gloomy-looking @ floor even was stained to imitate the wainscot, and the rugs before the fire-place and toilet: le were as sombre as all else. Janet sat down on one of the funereal-lovking chairs. confiding simple words made the’ worldly “Why don’t I go back to Uncle Edward's?” | woman's heart wince with pain; ‘only can you she said, her face looking sadly wan and with- | keep itfromuncie and Disk? Ide love Cree ered; “why do I aying here in thisdaily | Edward so that I can't bear other peopie to torment? “Jnst ‘becanse I fancy ship news | know before he does. He knows Stephen, but he does not know that we care about each other. I don’t think,” she blushed, ‘I quite knew it till Leame here.” * must reach us here en the coast soonor than in that buried-alive village; and if uo uews comes She got up from her seat, and began to pace the room; it seemed to her that her lot was the hardest that had ever been sent to living woman. 1. Janet Neale had been lett an orphan early; left to the care of a wealthy bachelor uncle, her mother's brother, Edward Martin. Richard Limber’s mother had also been a sis- ter of Mr. Martin, and her widowed husband, Mr. Limber, felt himself defrauded, when som* years after he had taken charge of her the old lawyer announced his intention of leaving all he possessed to his orphan niece Janet. But Mr. Limber took asecond wife, far sharper witted than himself, and as soon as the state of matters was explained to her she laughed in her husband’s face. ‘What fools men are!” she said, with a half gneer that mace her husband uncomfortable in | his word." spite of his admiration for le. “ Why, “I see,” said Mrs. Limber, ipnaincial Instead of looking on this Janet asa rival to | thesstts together, <eneerhony echt your Dick, you should have her here and let the | “But I cawt bear the deceit,” said Janct, ung folks grow fond of one another.” earnestly, ‘and I shall try to persuade Stephen Mr. Limber stood in open-mouthed wonder at | to tell him when he comes back trom Scotland.” his wife's cleverness; but dull-witted as he was, | “<1 think you will be unwise then,” he had sense enough to see that he had better Janet looked up surprised at the change in turn over this vexed question to her manage- | Mrs. Limber’s petting voice; bnt her uncle's ment. wife was looking out of the window, and she could not see her face. ‘1 Why do you think 90 2" Just then’ Moliy, the dairy-maid, came to speak to her mistress, and before her aunt re- turned to the kitchen Stephen Brent had found drawn breath that came with the discov, “ then all these letters your uncle’s housekeeper has been forwarding to you were from Stephen ? How will you manage when your uncle gets back to Wortham? Mrs. Carter may not ask questions about uncle will notice afier a bit.” “Itis chiefly about uncle that Stephen has come now," said Janet, eagerly; “we don’t want to do anything underhand—butuncte has such a prejudice against xailors; and Stephen is to sail again almost directly—will be away a year and ahalf he expects—and after that he means to ve up the sea and settle asa landsman And e thought he would not speak to Uncle Edward till he came back, lest I might be vexed in his absence; then he says, too, when he is a lands. man it will not be asking Uncle Edward to break A very prettily-worded invitation was dis- patched to Wortham, and accepted. Mr. Mar- tin was pleased witn his brother-in-law’s wil lingness to lorgive the slight shown to his son Richard. Janet was a pretty girl of sixteen, a few years | had as! Janet xounger than Richard, ‘when first ‘she came to hima aioe the ait. eee ee ae Hillside. The cousins walked aml flirted in trac She came home alone, sad enough, poor gi her lover had to sail i Liverpool next da had only found his way to Hillside to say good-t 1; cousiniy fash at when Janet's visit came to | an end, they were still only friends. | Mrs. Limber was angry; her husband had | dared to laugh at her; she railed at Richard for adull, insensible fool; but he only flung out of the house and swore. ‘Two vears passed before Janct came again to Hillside, and this time she was prettier than ever. There was a subdued gentiencss about her; a softened light in her sweet blue cyes, tha first arouse ! her cousin's powe next mace him fall distractedly It must be confessed th this last result wa ‘ned by the taunts of his step-mother. p up heart, my darling,” he said, «a half, and, please God, we'll never ephen Brent had d Limber and ie Neptune's Tower. lofevents orb net. H Edward, had been persuaded t visit to New York; he h to Mexico, + and, from various catses, his return had been lost, Dick, by your shilly- | delayed six months. Janct lingered on at Hille ur cousin Janet's been ant | side; the Limbers were anxiousto keep lier there, art tosome young spark at Wortham : | and the seacoast had now an aite Girls don’t look lackadaiseal as she docs ivr she made no effort to resist. on Which nothing. A * But I will go back to Wortham directly. Richard Limber was just one of the ¢ | Uncle Edward’ is expected, and then I wit going people who think life is long enow, tell him everything as soon as Stephen gives me the faltiliment of ali theiy wants and wishes. | 4, ave.”* ‘s There is no need that they should take care or exert themselves. Alt wil! come right as surely as fruit comes in autumn; but like other lazy people, directly he suspected that some one else had come between himself and the result he expected, it seemed to him that Janet must be his wife. W new that he fairly roused ap and came to think about it, he had never seen girl he liked hait so well as he liked his pretty i speak to her at once. He went into the kitchen after listening to his step- mother’s reproaches, and found Janet sitting there, dreamily stroking the sleeping kitten on her knee. “ By dove. she Poor Janct! the next news she got of her uncle was that he had been seized with apo- befor she a. plexy soon atter he lad lande: cout reach Liverpool he was 1. Janet bad known her ther of her parents, him with a tet sor She was to uncle's vinted app t an th aber smiled tty!_the prettiest girl I y enough at ever saw in my life And then lis father came | the farm. She got letters from Stephen, and in and spoile 9 she stand on the cliff for hours, picturing But Richar ad come too late: | 36, " % ‘ as If the unknown seas her lover's ship traversing. 8 that very atternoon, as the family sat drinking tea at ene end of the long deal table, and as ichard, in tle intense longing he had to find Jone with his cousin, had uot mare halt h a meal as usual, there came a knock at the t door. ddenly the letters ceased; th na terrible certainty, p Atlanta had perished —found- so it was suppo: with every Wive dren and sweet- came a rumor, and th the merehant 5 ered in a gale hand on board. aud’ I persuac t for him to try | oot, fon would hay . ck 01 Unele this machine. val et 2 i as she called Wortham; knew Richard went to ae eer. Limber's en wrote he would write to Hillside, A sharp eyes were fixed on Jane had been | fresh torment had come to her in his misery of struck by the girl’s sudden Blush, and as she b suspense, a doubt of Mrs. Limber’s good faith. watched the nervous movement of her hands— | .'siie 4. so anaior tT should marry Dick, her head bent as if striving to hide her face from | that I sometimes think she hopes the news is scrutiny Mrs. Limber drew a deep breath. 1 | trae,” t -eyed girl said to herself. Wasno Surprise to her to see the door thrown ate ber had persecuted her—i wide open andto hear Richard anuounce,“A | _ Latter! uit ee ae Visiter for you, Janet.” a kind way, certainly—but with a perseverance But when the visitor came in—a man abont thirty years ef age, of middle height, with a iace In whick slecision and power were far more to be remarked than any beauty of feature, Mrs. Limber woked nervous, too, and her color changed rapidly. No one noticed her—the stranger announced himself as Stephen Brent ; he gave a sort ot im- pulsive glance at Mrs. Limber—a glance which might have been either recognition or admira- tion—and then he went up to Janet; hismanner, and eg yi downcast, blushing gladness, so riveted the attention or both father and son, that they had no observation for any one be- sides. And ple like Richard Limber and his father usually find one idea as much as they can manage at once. After tea, the three men went out into the garden and smoked their pipes in a green sam- mer-house at the end overlooking the turnip field. You conid see Neptune's Tower trom here just breaking the vastsea-line that stretched as far as nd could reach round the outiying point on which the oldruin stood. It was No- vember, so there was little of color in the garden, except the scarlet berries between the French would never be heard of, and she said to Rich- ard, that in Janct’s we ailing st. he might be more easily worked o iit. Joomy be tichard she cami away. -room, she found Mrs. Limber and king together. They started when in, and then Richard sauntered slowly « Poor fellow!” his stepmother said. She had gone to the door and was watching bim as he crowed the chicken-yard, maddy and damp- looking now. “I never saw a yolng fellow so altered—so heartbroken. You ‘have much to answer for, Janet Neale. : Janet looked up wearily. Little by little—by such subtle gradations that it was hard to say how the petting tone had turned tooneof reproof —Mrs. Limber had contrived to make herself feared by her husband's niece. Janet would often stand watching for more th: hour, lest the postman should give up the letter she stil hoped for Into Mrs. Limber’s unfriendly hands. “You haye much to answer for,” she said. windows of the drawing-room and some li - | “I believe but for you Richard would be con- ing torch-lily blosome among the laurels but | tent to marry Lucy Gray. Why do Fou persist the ber) garden was near the summer-house, | i» giving him false hopes about me? “IT gave him no false hopes.” Mrs. Limber spoke more gently; it was ne part of her plan to quarrel WHk Sande. “Batt have alter 78 con- sidered you a good, religious girl, and I ask how long you mean to persist in disbelieving what all the rest of us know to be true? You are going against Providence, Janet.” Such a wan smile came on the girl's face! “Lhope Lam not wicked. Ido not mean to and kept it fragrant all the year round. As soon as the men left the kitchen, Mrs. Limber had stepped into her husband's business room, on the right of the entrance passage, to take counsel with herself. ‘Till now she had always felt kindly towards Janet Neale, partly beeause the girl’s bright sweet nature had a way of winning those she lived with, partly because Mrs. Limber looked on Janet's tuture wealth as a means of increas- | g0 on expecting all my life. If we have no news ing the position of the family—and position was | by the end of the year, then I give up hope.’ Harriet Limber’s idol. She did not know how | | Mrs. Limber waa rejoiced. She bent over firmly her heart was set on this world’s . but, in reality, she would have given us all she held dear to be the equal of the wite of the Squire of Trane. Every day of her life when she looked at her still pretty Tace in the glass, Mrs. Limber cursed the foolish hasteshe had shown in accepting the offer of her farmer-husband. But she forgot that “the horizon mounts with the climber,” tlon Sie now despised had seemed @ great rise in the world of Harriet Janet and kissed her, and called her by an in- finitnde of petting names; but the girl did not listen. Her heart felt dried up—emptied of all power of human love. : . Mrs. Limbersaid no more about Richard; but when her stepson came in she advised him to leave his cousin in peace. “If you're wise, now, you'll let her be till New Year's day. When'this fancy is over sho will come to hersensesagain. Sheiscrazy no‘ and she must be humored. Hush! here’s your "t you tell him [ said Janet was ache mdon boar father. oar d fe Weod 2 ding: —. He grows besotted about her.”” Into that hool life had come one It had not helped Mrs. Limber’s jealousy that episode. A ‘inated by Miss Gray's | her husband lately taken Janet's inall fright face, bad asked her toms forthe tote | tires mer said that Janet should not molt doontly Mery” Weta htm eh ce | STi hate s'dnaght® Resa on * “mr r 4 a ee, caine, wee Detag ie ad «but I will not have her worried into marrying {Headless gift tne frank, x meal ee ihe | ScTwill” was such am unusual expression in way, . which eae Mr. Limber’s mouth that his wife surngged her scornfal surprise.. She was too clever to let her husband “Ah!” Mrs, Limber tried to suppress the deep- | your correspondent, but your | . i the f tonly would not | anet had been in a fitful excited mood all | accept it. She would not show any outward eor- but now she started up; blushingand trem- she would not wear any mourning. : “Stephen will come still but daily she grew thinner and j she stayed ow | longer and longer on the the clit’ by ing machine goes on. I'm | Neptune's Tower. right, for he’s a terribleeras- irresistible attr: the sea had that was bard t bear. She elt sure Stephen | When the girl came down stairs from her | were shining bells in the clear cold air. ske looked net? She grows more cheerful every day. I believe she is getting over her trouble after all.”” Mr. Limber stood in the chicken-yard, talking | to his wife, about a week before Christmas. He | Said this by way of diverting Mrs. Limber’s at- | tention from the massacre he was contemplat- | ing. Mr. Limber was fond of sending Christmas | hampers to his London friends, and bis wife was not disposed to second his liberality «Never mind Janet. Then you only want two turkeys, dear? Quite enough, too, I’m sure; and the I know, we shall be wanting ourselves farther on.” But Mrs. Limber had seen the change in Janct before her husband saw it, and had been sorely | puzzled to account for it. The farmer's words | set her thinking. “Can she have heard from Stephen? He was a strong, powerful fellow. He may have been saved after all—saved for her, just as my poor Dick is feeling happy about her: No, she shall never marry Stephen Brent; if | there were no other reason, the money shan’t go to a stranger.” If Mrs. Limber had known the cause of Janet's brightened eyes and complexion, she would not have been disturbed. She abhorred what she was pleased to call superstition, and the idea of building expectations on a dream would have been to her a confirming proof that -Janet’s wits had gone astray. Bat Janet believed that the dreams had been gent in answer to her prayer for resignation; it would have been to her simple nature asin to doubt her lover's retarn; and as each day brought Christmas nearer and nearer, her joy grew almost painful. She was so rest= less she could not settle to any occupation; even overhead, as if they too rang joy- | she has given m e vowards S1 mn. He was not there; but, eee Se the Christmas bells, it seemed to her eard these: dis- | tinetly:— On Christmas Eve.” { Iv. “Where is Janet? Let hertell me herself that as giv up. I wont believe it, except from her!” “Janet is not here,” said Mrs. Limber. A minate ago she had shivered from her head to foot lieve me. Richard!” she called out shrilly. e farm: came out into the lane, and stood looking at Stephen in silent wonder. ‘Before you speak to Mr. Brent, you will be good enoiigh to tell him who your niece Janet is going to marry?” “Why, Dick, of .” said the farmer; | course then recovering himself, he held out his hand to | — : ‘m heartily glad tosee you back,” he said “Tt scems hard on you that Janet should have changed her mind, you know, Mr. Brent, and she did fret after you a good bit; but she’s as happy now as the day's long; and I do think,” he added, with most unusual energ to trouble her happiness; they're to be married in a fortnight sure and certain.”” Mr. Limber stands watching Stephen's face— there has been a fierce struggle in it; and even now she cannot guess what the end will be. She feels desperate—capabie of anything that ut such things wili happen, | that it would be mortal crue! | | son, smote upon his hearing—a dels vs , like the concentrated rays of ® mil 2 comes Te Sr burst upon his vision, there w: remedy ever discovered. It te alkalin will bring about the issue on which she is re- | solved. “Well, but Richard,” she says, gently, w: ing Stephen turtively while she’ spoke. haps, for old friendship’s sake, Janet might like tosee Mr. Brent. You neet not think it would trouble her, happiness; only the other day sh: said to me, «If 1 could know poor Stephen was safe I should be so happy.’ And [ think Mr. Brent could hardly expect so young and uni formed a girl to withstand her cousin's lo he} ch a well-matched pair. “But yet,” e | she sighs and whispers so that her husband can- at her favorite haunts she paced up and down | dlong the cliffs so rapidly that Richard grew frightened lest the treacherous crumbling edge should yield beneath her feet. Christmas Eve at last. At breakfast Richard could not take his eyes from his cousin. A sott rosy color was on her cheeks, there was the full liquid depth which happiness only can give in her sweet blue eyes. He noticed, too, that her silken hair, which for months past she had strained tightly from her face, waved now in the graceful careless fashion in which she had worn it two years ago. Love stirred strongly in Richard's heart; to other women he was a coxcomb, but he really loved his cousin Janet. What could this change mean? His father and Mrs. Limber were right, and his constant devotion had touched his cousin's heart at last. Janet meant to be his wite. | _ His father seemed unnsually long over his pa- per this morning, but at last tepmother, to whom Richard managed to it his wishes, | called her husband away, and the cousins were left alone together. Richard went up to Janet as she sat still at the table. There was a finish on his «Lome face, and his hand trembled nervoust “Janet.” He spoke very softly, ed and looked up at him. took away his contidence; if she had bi ed he would have t she start- seemed “Janet,” he s | you try’ to_ lov: come after if you only She smiled at him brightly. |, * But I de love Dick. love you. Why, vou are the 0! in the world — “Ah, bat I don't wa Lwant you to be “Look here, Di hers and spoke so v the young man stood as if under a spell—*1 will tell you | what I wonld not tell any one else. 1 know— hands in uot by any letter or anvthing that you would call Teal knowledge—bat 1 know surely that Stephen wii! come back—he is coming back to- nigh: "Richar tooked quickly at her. Was his step- mother right in saving tuat Janet was crazy “Ah, but you don't believe me,” she went on in a bright that’ puzzled her listene ut I am so very sure. Come, Dick, he dees not come I will forfeit anything you He grasped the “WH you fortvit 5 doesn’t come, will yo D tight! anet? “It Brent warry m2 in a fort- night? She grew pale for a moment, and then she a a + you don't believe, Dick. Yes, [ will teplen does not come elieve now??? Mr. Limber had come in c ‘d while she spoke. “That's the best news I e heard this many a day.” Janet snatched her hand away from her cousin and hurried upstairs to her bedroom. She cou'd not explaim_ her words to her uncle; she felt frightened. It seemed to her now that she had e spoken them. “But they meant nothing. Dick knew that knows {£ would rather die , than marry any one but Stephen.” She repeated the loved name sott more and more caressing tone, an eyes in her hands, trembling at the tumuit of Passionate joy. Itseemed to her that she was quite different to the timid, shrinking Janet who watched Stephen take his way along the clitt Jast November two years. Latterly she had felt hardened against the world; but now her whole nature kindled. She could incar any risk, brave any danger, only to be safe in Stephen's arms once more, and see his dear face again. ‘The day wore on; to Janet the hours dragged slowly. She strayed here and there—now in the garden, nowinherown room. She had resolved not to go to Neptune's Tower till dark—at any rate, fi after the second post arrived, and it came late in the afternoon to Hillside. She saw the postman coming fast uj but he had no letter for Miss Neale. ment her heart sank. “ But [had no warning to expect a letter; my warning showed me that he would come to Nep- tune’s Tower.” In reality she did not expect to see Stephen , till midnight. for she knew the Christmas bells | would not ring till then; but she was too impa- tient to wait any longer; she turned back to the house, got a large cloak to wrap herself in, and then went with throbbing heart and steps so light and bounding that they seemed seareely to touch the grass to Neptune's Tower. ina fonder, hen hid her the road, For a mo- v. Mr. Limber sat beside the kitchen fire. Events | were going the way she wished, and was a lock of dissatistaction on her dark schem- ing countenance. There was more expression er face than there had been when mar- ried Mr. Limber, but the face itself was less pleasant to look at; her lips closed more firmly, and so looked thinner, and lines of anxiety and unrestrained temper were tracing themselves | on ber forehead and round her mouth. the furrows Time would plough there. «+ I’ve been a fool after all,” “‘Janet’s delicate, and she might have died if I had let her back to that damp unhealthy Worth», and then her money must have coms to Richard as heir- w, for she is safe not to | have made a will. want the money in the | family, arfd | want Dick to have it; but I don’t want a younger, prettier Mrs. Limber here. The old man doats on her now; how will it be when she really is daughter? And as to Dick, I don’t | know what to make of him—ungrateful lout of a fellow! What did he mean by sulking when { asked him the truth of what bis father heard Janet say this morning—in a fortnight? I must make up my mind soon whether I really mean | this marriage to take place or not.” i ‘The opening door started her. She was con- scious of the evil feelings in her face, and she tried to make it wear a different expression be- fore she turned round and faced her visitor. But when she tw started. Then flying into anger at his dumb, awe-struck taco" ‘bont stand there wit! ‘What is it 2” guess at her unfriendly feelings. ¥ lips, * Ttis all for poor Diek’s sake,” she whimper- | between ed; and Mr. Limber patted her on the shoulder, | coming »” Richard said. “ You've and said she was a first-rate step-mother. | only a minute. Oh, it’s too hard to give her up ee ee ee Sanit soenied | When sho's all but sine!” sucha promise to Richard Limber andhis FL pemaenet tame Ree ecamems weiss note, ye ‘quite - one bareelo nes | ive ber t are such a fool as even 4 ey Lier Senne tee S bot tragthat ber will would not be yielded te ° to dream of tl wont hel te and her cousin came to home, Miss | suffer this trial that had been laid om her till she | you show at ail; just leave Gi to see him and also to let him sge | gave up this cherished hope. | Of the upper windows and make eure she does'nt he won her affections. After thia she | | She layawake, with herself. She had | come in the Tower.” wrote a self- letter, deploring the im- drawn up her blinds, as einen poids ed As soon 98 bis lexg hoavy footstep had pulsive nature which before . overhead, Limber ju Restraint mehr her wretched. fe Sink'the moon made's long sliver pati which | Suicne testis cane Tene tong her. "ToGo ke an answer, ‘seemed to lead to emacs saw the black pigs disporting kind, manly in which the writer begged | and then across the clifts to the - It | sodden straw. her to forget which might her poche thay BOC phere mg yr in her She bad scarcely stood remember, of he pig te gloomy bed, to fall asleep in the full that | she saw some one coming should they ever meet nO or look ef | streamed into the room. Sleep came at last, | the little his should ever remind her.- however, and with it came strange, troubled Quick as she ran round Harriet Gray the letter up in her | visions that are to visit those on whose slum. | side-gate, was hand: , and five minutes after ber the falls. in the yew hedge, in full it out and it, She made Mr. It to Janet that sho wakened—wak. | fore the wayfarer had reached acquaintance soon. and married him | ened to find s cold clasp on her left wrist. | Yes, it was Stephen, but not eee et eee at this im what seemed to her full day- | drowned wretch she had Suny, tn an 18 pocket tech, tin mabe light, found it encircled by a broad silv He looked and, prosperous, was at once so eruel andso dear. This cord; while she looked the cord broadened, au: in hi Stephen and Mrs. Limber’s | drew her with it so easily and yet so irresistibly | ousy. ‘a minate he had for Janct underwent h | that she could not have told whether her will | was grasping both her eeamepion En Beset Fer tal | nomrat har foot, a bread ‘aod shining path an “won't you say: Welcome now 5 lover. was tho | he followed it to the base of Neptune's Tower, | ber, toa peor sailor ret there | | | rambles, about as follows:—A young ameda C not hear. ‘I wished ske had kept tras to you Ever since Mr. Limber spoke Brent stood as if stunned; only the working of his strongly marked face tells his suffering i sensible to the wife's words, but he felt their sting; and at this last thrust he turns abruptly away. ‘there never was a true woman.” And withont any leave taking, he strides suilenly back by th came. a 1. Janet had been pacing up and down the clift's edge—not thinking; her mind is too fail of tumult for any one thought to rest th seems to her as if the whirl will not she sees her lover; but at last fatigue and sbe sits down at the (vot of the pped in her cloak. i" he says, scofingly: It has grown quite dark, and the stars have come out one after another, glowing with yet more silvery brightness. High above her heal is the lovely star Stephen pointed oat to her on that last evening when they stood toge:her where she now stands—beside Neptune's tower; and as she looks up at it the excitement fades from her spirit, tears sprin, es, and £ a moment she doubts whi he Has been right in persisting in her belicf that he has not perished. It isa mark of her simple, childlike nature that she never has doubted ‘St never feared that, though he might i caped the perils of shipwreck, he migh to her love. She reproaches hers at this holy night her thoughts have all b she has forgotten the coming turned on sell festival. Still as hour fter hour passes, her heart grows in the midst of the devout Ki hi bi e ground anc edge of the cli’; the stars gi thut there is uo fear of lo: o say it! Marry I would rather tail on those rocks and be carried out to sea, where haps my Stephon lies! ‘The plash, plash of the advancing water seems toapplaud her words—the plash grows louder— the wind rises and towers the waves into angry foaming crests—the spray dashes higl higher, and, as each wave br : the cliits, there comes a sullen hoarse marmr, as if the screaming monsters long to clasp the human prey above danet stands gazing down at them so s bound and intent that she does nor ar ad- vancing footsteps. A firm arm clasps her waist. “ Come. ¢ Fanet!—it is late. it to know wha —I mean to st tmas bells ring ont from Biae at won't be for another hour. what you were at, and I put fat I could; bat he’s ina real fil come, Janet!—vou are almost my wife now. “Your wite, Richard? Do you know what I was thinking just as you cam¢ e has drawn herself “away, and s eaks almost hanghtily. “1 would rath wn on those of any one but r rocks, Di than be the Stepten Brent”— “Amen!” Stepher come from the leaping artles Janet. nd love, al! jot His arms are round her, tightly round his neck, as i yet be taken from her. “What do you mea Richard Lim) knows that his hope is over, but still he will not d Janet. 's deep voice seems to ning waves—but it ts help and pro- that one word ad she clasps he she fears he may Stephen raises his head to look at but he holds Janet clasped closer than ever—“that you had better go back to Hillside. You can tell Mrs. Limber that, though I went away like a jealous old fool some hours ago, I came to my Senses in time. Just now I learned what I might have learned betore if 1 had seen the maid instead of the mistress—I learned where I should find your cousin, and Ieame to know the truth from herself.”” Richard sulked and swaggered for some weeks after his cousin's marriage to Stephen Brent, but by next Christmas Eve he was quite con. soled. Having teken to himself the “fond way hae | | il-looking wretch, | Billings, told him the whole story, thus addi M butin vain. A leh yee of rapes » took of him. Then all was chaos. | to pulmons: Blank? Sis He was rescued by his companions, and apon prion with to ble return to conscionances, he attempted to open Siguation one beatthy eantea his €; move his hands—toepeak, bat found Ig to be done is to cleanse tbe himself unable to command a muscle. from all diseased mocus and As he lay in this condition, memory pictared mg these organs mo that thoy to him all that had transpired up to the moment when me insensible. Then he marveled whether he was aliveor dead. What méant this hush ? thischill ? this blackness or darkness that enveloped him? Where was he? What was he? ould it be always thus? Time on, and he felt his though's and ideas contracting into a narrower and narrower sphere, nntil nothing but the onecentral know! of existence continued to assert itself. oe healthy action. For thle ‘beet remedy is Behonck s om sing disease and They will clear out the liver all cterased bile that oanew joalthy bile ie accummated there. and rouse it bralthy action, by which uatura! and "The stomach, bowels, and live ee vt Schone ‘will neutralize all excees of acid. m it will gi d create fon Aker this preparatory tocare most cams of Consumpt use of Schenck 's Palmonic Syrup. 7 y STuphourtshes ‘the xystcm. purifies the blood, and ts readdly absorbed into the circala- tion, and the There it ripens ail Died at Brewertown, N. Y., June 29, 1866. Aged 20° years. Through the oval glass at the heat s- ket he could see his face frozen into the waite rigidity of death. His friends and relatives were seated around the room, and the pastor was preaching a touch- ing funeral sermon, interrapted now and then by the sobs of his listeners. Through the open window the glory of a summer day was drifting in, fragran tl reath from the clover-fields, and musical with the songs of birds. He saw a latent beauty in everything he looked upon, and a latent melody in everysound | rin the form. when once ft ripens. It is urify ing properties at all cloere and cavities are healed up end my patient is red "The eescutial thing to be done in curing Ooneump- tion is to get Up a good appetite and a good digestion, #0 that the body will grow in flesh and get strong. If @ person has diseased lungs.—a cavity or absosas thererthe cavity connat esl, the matter canest ripen, so long as the system low Seonary to cure isa vew order of tooKe,—e By sound, he heard—and he realized how crade and im- | BOCCATy body to grow in Meek perfect are allour dreams of happiness in the | SPusuIa "4 pod, the cavitios wilt flesh as compared with those which the immor- | heal, the matter will ripeo and be throwo of im tals kno large quanti ad the poreom recain health amd But, like a flash of lightning. there came a Fee ce loss of identity again—utter annihilation for an ; en tf one le uncertain lapse of time; and when he again axa vitality lott oo. awoke to a sense of his condition, his spirit once more tenanted his body—his coftin had been borne to the cemetery—and by beard the sexton | preparing to lower him to his last resting-place in the dust. the other to hare seen ma gound lung, live This is what Schenck Conrumption. Th: persons cured with only one poy life to ® & wd eee indicines wild re out the Now, for pe first time, a great horror fell | Sui ive Netore tite menistunee w upon him. ff was to be entombed alt system of ail the disen: left alone with the night. and the ter y be grim company of skeletons moulderin ‘that while asing Schei him. He would regain consciousness w! ald be exer od id wight t-deur exercise ouly in & genial in-doors in cold aud damp weather and take « late—would strike the close walls of the pi but to no purpose—call, and there would be ne answer—pray, and the very heavens wi Pitiless_shriek, tear bis flesh with bi 2, die. all his will, he utilized it ina ak the spell that had seized him, ss. He was reseued from hisim- m,and weeks of watehfal nore bronght him back to the full enjoyment of his former health or relapse than one who bas been enti it is precisely the same in regard w Do long as the lunge are ne long is there imm.ne i K dine — —_____- pultona: An Unfaithful Woman's Fate. iz. a Mr. and Mrs. Caxervan were names registered | ¥ hich the on the hotel book at the Delaware Honse in Port | Phe grand sceret of my succeas with Me Jervis, N. ¥., about the middle of Augnst last. | consists in my ability to subdue inflammatic Mr. Caservan was alow-browed, nang of the troulty & ing character, while the woman, in dir trast, presented a most beantifal and preposse: ing appearance. People wondered that such a beautiful woman could be married to uttheir conductwas perfectly of their true character was derable time; but ‘tis a long has no turning, and the two had hardl been two months in the house before they com- menced to show their true position began to abuse the and persons passing t room overheard him accusing her of infidelity to Hie did not stay much at the house, and solate. Shortly atte days fairs now be of provoking it, fiamed lung cnt ui 0 an impowsibility The person should be kept on a wholesome and Medicines eontioned it the ostural gaae nutritious dict, and all the until the body has restored to kind of Cousnmption, hearty these mang ¥ gone. 1 have cured the have been cured by this treaumont never seen. ‘About the first of October Lexpact to take posses sion of my new building. at the northeast corver uf ot Dir. Billings, a gentleman wh Ishall be pleased io as ‘Filenville, New” York aire it. peared at the Delaware House ai ct J. ASCHENCK, M.D. Price of the Pulmunic Syrup and $1.50 a bottle, or $7.0 a half doxn drake is. 25 cents @ box. For sale by ail druggista and dealere THOMPSON LILLY & ©0., 26 Hanover street aunouncement came, At the late session ef the | supreme court, held at Poughkeepsie, Justice Jozeph F. Barnard presiding, a Mr. ‘Billings sued fordivorce, and his chief witness was t " ° | Baltimore, Md., Wholesale Agents, gota t thar n Cascrvan, who bad stolen his wife. It ~~ that atter Caservan left companion, Sauce. he went back to Ellenville, and going to Mr. | —— srieyrer ll “THE ONLY GOOD SAUCE.” It improves appetite and digestion, and it ts an. riveted for ite fave this dastardly act to his evil gs had also gone back and to! different story, but he had her, and she had departed. Shi | pWoaredirected by Movers. LEA ® PERRINS te in court, leiting the suit go b 4 j Prosecute sil porties OUN DUNCAN 'B BONS. divorce was granted. Judge Barnard told | eal2-cofm New Caservan that he was the basest wretch he had | ever met, and warned him to never appear be- Matr Dye. fore him in any shape that the law could reack ‘Tuts splendid Dye ts the best in the word eg) as he would receive the extreme penalty of | Harmices, ye og dows aia the law. The only child of the separated couple | Dor any vitaltc peisve to, jece paraiye! was given te the care of the father. PIC | doath. “AVold the vanuted ani dciusive proparatious oe | WeniMhcaciorstdtr Bruen ua tare coms Tue New Lapy’s Hat just brought out in | Ghiarnished roputetion t ephold tts, intecitn ee Paris is called the casserole, being exactly of the | fuiiruiehed repatatic aes aus —— of & copper sauce-pan, or something like | ¥. dreguiats, ‘Appiled at 16 Bond street. Now me rgieg ony oi Kai fats Templar of toot old. ‘be hat not al lest symptom of brim, and the crown is ornamented to the vi FEURSTON'S IVORY PEASL TOOTH POW DER is the best article for cleansing and img | Summit with alternate bands of velvet and | DER is the best er Prine sree eo satin. A tulle aigrette is placed in front, and OUYER SINORO Us KID GLoV idiot,” Lucy Gray. he has discovered that she | is, after all, a prettier woman than Janet. Mrs. Limber still lives with her husband at | Hillside. Her health has given way, folks say; it is certain that she is never well enough to accompany the farmer when he visits Mr. and Mrs. Brent at Wortham. —— a Love in a Snowdrift. ‘The Kansas City Times recounts the romantic termination of a very romantic young lady's 1, named Miss Al: jan Diego, last summer to an adve tisement in the Waverly Magazine for a corre- spondence, with a view to enjoy “fun and amusement, and perhaps matrimony.” ‘he new co! ent of the young lady resided at Wathena, Kansas, and represented himself to be a@ merchant, young, wealthy, honest, and in want of awife. A long and loving correspond- ence ensued between Jerome Miss Cosgrove. Photographs were exchan, re, and Miss Cosgrove was dclighted to find unseen lover agoodTooking reuth, distingue in a ince decidedly handsome. Final; she consented to become Mrs. Marklam, an: for economy's sake consented to come to Wa- thena to be married. Two weeks she started ‘for Kansas, All. went well. = got on the Denver Pacific. So, commission a who, perceiving alone, and evi i u Hl fl il i | f 3 f i i F a? 5 E i F i i $ iil ae ae . farkham and | 1» | j BRANCH OFFICE, 517 7th street, ep. Pust Office and preity realding at ' adds to the fierce aspect of the whole. Tux “Cnanivart” has a caricatnre — | senting M. Thiers displaying a statue marked “Republique” to the members of the French | Assembly. He says, “Gentlemen, I have | roughly dcsigned this during your absence; you will Gnish it now as you think best.” “The | ae it should be added, represents M. Thiers | mse! ER restores soiled gloves equal tonew wuts. ANCHOR LIFE INSURANCE COMPANY, ' OF SEW JERSEY HOME OFFICE, 178 BROADWAY, N.Y. B. C. FISHER, President. A. STRAUS’, POPULAR CLOTHIN HOUSE, LIGHTER & MARCHE, Gon'l Managers. Invites Particular Attention to its Special and Pop- | ular Feateres. First—Its Rates are lower than those of most | Premiment and cafe companies. Second —It was the first company inthe Mnited | States which guaranteed policy b: ‘& DEFINITE CasH SURRENDER VALUE, the amount of which is | distinctly EXDORSED ON THE\POLICY IN FIGURES. Therd.—1t Loans the sur: value of its Poli- cies. Fowrth—All of its Policies are absolutely Non- Forfritable. Fifth. —Its Dividends are declared Annually upon | vation plan. ard are non-forfeitabls zth.—No pom or Residence. | Screnth “It allows Thirty Days Grace in the eutof Premiums. itshth.—Its Charter permits it to make avest- | 21011 PENNSYLVANIA AVENUR, Between Wth and lth stroete, N_.W., ft the conti Be. section of the Union, and its OVERCOATS. "hin atten yok ensure. ex pecting to teal | 929 OVERCOARS for 18. you honestly, and you equivalent | for your 7.” Boo one of its policies and its | Hy HH 1 Dictrit of Columbia are, wane of eur ben Gaslaaes men, Talk with them before you insure in any | ——_ ecein BUSINESS SUITS. NOMOE.—REDENPTION OF 5-20 BONDS ess BUSINESS SUITS in be _— a7. naeemeet: | | B se Five tren Siued gate GLENGABYS, 10, 19 15, axe 918. ere: ati day of s'2-kodihet | DOUBLE BREASTED BOX COATS ES ed a ay, At 7,8, 9, 10, axe 918. arn of eset? YOUTHS’ SUITS ot 10, 11, 19,13.50, asp 916. fo. Sa to fo. 10775, both tnclusive. Seer eee oe. . o. ES a sake ge ee to No. me Pr Sa ferent