Grand Rapids Herald-Review Newspaper, July 10, 1897, Page 2

Ce CHAPTER XVI—(Continued,) The next morning he arose from a sleepless bed and feverish pillow, ho; ing to find,, amid- the active busi of the day, that forgetfulness which he had failed to find upon his couch at night. He packed his trunk and port- mantean, and was in the act of making his toilet for a round of farewell morn- ing calls, when his door was uncere- moniously opened, and in walked—Cap- tin Fuljoy “My dear uncle!” ly dear boy!” These were the first words of greet- ing on each side, as both hands of and nephew met in a double ke. When di dyou arrive?” inquired Gre- ville. “Why now; just at this moment, I may say ‘ame by the ‘Busy Bee’ to Baltimo took the train to Washing- ere I ain breakfasted + hen we'll have it together how, at You know I always breaktf: at is now eleven, and I have yet! To the 4 with fashionable one! eight. It not breken my fast (1 was going to s hour: ince the captain had left he had left off swear- never swore now, but always was a-going to! In other words, he re as much ever, through the > of habit, but remembered ving clanse—“I was going Greville rung and ordered st for two, which was accord- y served in the adjoining parlor on they were comfortably seat- ed— “Scen Daney yet?’ inquired the cap- tain, with his mouth full of ham. ; but net under that for since Daney had owledged that her parentage had er been discovered the change of her name filled his mind with wonder and conjecture. ment But to his disappoin ard mortification the cap answered— >; certainly not under that name,” and continued his long-protracted meal in silence. appetite w at length ed, and the tedious break- ==|1 Q== \ $ IZALTH. WEAL : 4 “Then De Glacie was her family name?” “No. I know nothing of her family. her baptismal name. Let me in: Soon after you left us, three s ago, I was having the ruins of it fisherman's cottage, which w blown down in a gale, cleared a Among the rubbish was found the lid of a leather box. Upon it was a bi plate, bearing an inscription that was illegible from rust. I had it ined, and then read clearly the name, Astrea De Glacie. At the same time, the bishop of the diocese was v: h for the purpose of confirm- ing our young people. Now Daney was one of the candidates for confirmation, but we were not sure ,you see, that Da- ney had ever been bptised. And such a geod churchman as myself was not going to chance that. , to make sure, we had her baptised before confirma- tion. Miss Hit and myself stood spons- ors. And right or wrong, we gave her the name, Astrea De Gi: So, if it is not hers by birthright, it is by baptism. We hoped that the name might be some clue to the discovery ef her friends, supposing that she has any in the world besides ourselves.” “Have you heard thing of the Druries since they left Cornport?’ in- quired the young man, taking advant- age of a pause. “Not a word, though T have caused | inquiries to be made for them. Soon after the rites of baptism and confirma- tion were performed for Daney, I took among the mountains of remained two us and 2 half. $ there that developed into such a fine woman. I then took her to Europe, | where we spent three months in travel- ing over the continent, and three in the city of Paris. I introduced her every- | where as Mademoiselle Astrea De Gla cie, hoping, you see, that there, at least, the name might lead to some dis- covery. It was in Paris at the house ef our minister, that we first met Mon- sieur and Madame De Coucy. Our 2c- quaintance grew into intimacy during our three-months’ sojeurn in Pa And our intimacy ripened into friendshi when fortune made us fellow p: gers on the Baltic, when he was coming cut as minister to our government, ani we were returning to our native land During that trip, Madame De Coucy at length over, the captain wiped his mouth and gray moustaches, 1, with a sigh of intense satisfaction, <1 back in his ir and inquired: What do you think of Daney, now?’ “She is surpassingly beautiful More beautiful than any human being I.ever saw before! Much more beautiful than I deemed it possible that Daney could ever become.” “My man!” said the captain, signifi- cantly, “three years ago Daney was but an outline—a mere faint pencil sketch by her Creator; now she is that teh filled out, colored, finished. That is all. She is still the same Daney. But, man, man, he is a poor artist who cannot see the beauty of the finished picture in first faint outlines “I know it, I know it, and I am that poor st; for, ah! I never found out the value of this picture until it was too late! until it was bespoken for another gallery than mine!” sighed the colonel. “What do you mean? Leave meta- phor, even though you did set the ex- ample of using it, and speak literally.” “Then I never appreciated the real worth of our Daney until she was lost to me forever!” “Well! you have left metaphor only k in riddle. What do you mean y, Astrea, I should say, is the ed bride of another.” ! Of whem, if you nquired the captain, Excellency, Senor Don Sal- envador—”" “Ete. ete., ete. Who told you so “Common rumor.” “As if you did not know common ru- mor to be a common story-teller! Bosh! She is no more going to marry him than Iam going to marry the Queen of Moroce “Are you sure, sir?’ exclaimed young man, with breathless eagerness. “Certain. Daney’s hand is free.” “And—h uffections ?” “Well, sir! remembering what passed ‘between you and me upon that subject three years ago. I consider your quest- tion_rather of the ratherest.” “Unele! do not mock me! I love Da- ney! love her, aye! to my own perdi- tion, should her affections be otherwise engged!” “Well! don’t lay violent hands upon yourself yet awhile! Nor upon me, either,” added the captain, seeing that started up and confronted him. she free in “eart and hand?” tely demancecd the yound m ee in heart and hand, I do firmly ve!—Yet, stay. I spoke too fz T not quite free in heart——” “Oh, sir} in merey, what are you about to tell me?” ; “Why, you see, Daney is not quite perfect, any more than any other hu- man bei She has a soft spot in her heart, like the rest of her sister- hood. And that soft spot is where the of her boyish playmate melted please? I know the lubber! the “Does she remember me with kind- ? Oh! if I thought she did, or could, T should almost die with joy!” “Softly, my dear fellow, softly. Do you wish to marry Daney?’ “Wish to ma her! Wish to marry that peerless creature? Sir, I would almost barter my soul5’s’ salvation to call her mine!” let us understand each other. is in better health and spirits, better educated and _ better ed than she was three years ago; she has, also, a prettier name, and mix- es more in society. That is all. Her position and prospects are in no de- gree changed from what they were.” “I know it, sir, though her change of pame led me to suppose so. But ray 1 inguire if that name is her own? “Her own, sir? Of course it is her own!” grew so much attached to Astrea that, ; upon our arrival at Washington, she begged as a favor, the young lady might be left in her charge for the sea- son. Well, I knew Astrea could not enter metropolitan society under better auspices. So I left her to the chaper- onage of Madame De Coucy, while I ran down to the island to see how the ship was working; found all right, un- der the command of first mate Hit, and then, feeling lonesome for the want of my little Daney, I just boarded the Busy Bee as she passed on Tuesday morning, and here Iam. For, you see, I cannot exist a week without my litile Daney; so, if they wish to keep Mad- emoiselle Astrea for the whole season, T'll be d—d (I was going to say) if they don’t have to take me, too!” “One word—does Madame know her real position in your family?’ “How can I tell? Madame met us in the first circles of Paris, and so. no questions as to Mademoiselle’s position could arise. She knows her to be my ward. That is sufficient. | And that, 1 think, is all we shall ever knoy for, Greville, I think that my f of her being other than she seemed to be might have been all moonshine! So, if the last hope of finding her out to be some great French demoiselle influences your feelings toward her, give her up at once.” “TI will never give her up, si am truly glad to believe that s other than she seems. I adore her as she is.” “Well, my bo: your change oi no one can attribute ntiment toward her to mercerary motives, at least! Go on and prosper! Woo the girl as will—wed her as soon as she wills. Nothing would please me better! Only Til be d-1 (as I was going to say) if yeu must separate her from me.” The delighted young man reassured his uncle on this point. And soon after they left the house to call on Madame De Coucy and Astrea. The young lady received her guardi- an with unfeigned delight, and met h lover with something like a half-con- scious blush. This visit of mere ceremony was ne- cessarily a short one. But as Colonel Greville’s intendedjourney was indefi- nitely postponed, it soon repeated. Fulke Greville an impatient loy- er, and took the earliest cpportunity of declaring his passion to its beautiful ob- ject. and entreated her to become his wife. But, to his amazement and consterna- tion, he found his suit, backed by the influence of her guardis urged as it was with all the eloquence of youth and love—promptly and firmly rejected. “No, Colonel Greville; I will not mar- ry anyone, least of all, you” she replied, sadly, but firmly. “Least of all me? Oh, why shoul dI be consigned to deeper and more hope- less perdition than all others?” he ex- claimed, in the bitterness of unmerited despair. She did not answer until he put the question in another form: “Why do you make an exception of me, Mademoiselle?” “Because, Colonel Greville, you are the proudest man I ever had the honor of meeting, and I—am nobody! or less than nobody!—an imposter, who has no right to the place she fills; no, not even to the very name she bears!” “Astrea, dear Astrea, do not talk so wildly. You tax me with being proud! Ah! love, I shall eprouder still when I call you mine! You say that you have no right to the place! you fill? Do not so° wrong your noble-hearted guardian as to think that his adopted daughter could possibly be considered an igtrud- er into the circle she so much adorns. The name to which you disclaim any right is yous by the most sacred of all iting | “) have no family name,” said Astrea, mournfully. “Nor do you need one! I offer you mine!, Oh, Astrea, let no fastidions scruple, either of pride or humility, mar our happiness!” Vain were all his pleadings. resolutely rejected and left him. “The girl is absolutely mad, mad!” exclaimed the captain, when the result of this proposal was laid before him— “mad as a March hare! You love her, she returns your love; I give my con- sent, and she—rejects you! Well. I sup- pose it is poetic justice! You rejected her three years ago; she reje you now. It was pothing but caprice in you it is nothing but caprice in her. Never was an unfortunate guardian so tor- mented by fools as Tam! Well! I sup- pose you will both condescend to come to your senses some time or other, and then come to me for my blessing! And then it will be my time to be canri- i And I'll be dashed, I was going say, if I don’t forbid the bamns!” Of course, the old man meant to keep his word, and in proof of sue hinten- Astrea ame De Coucy’s, asked an interview with his ward, and reasoned with her so soundly and pleaded with her so elo- quently, and commanded her so per- emptorily, that at length Astrea was compelled to do what from her heart she had wished to do al! along, and con- sent to become the wife of Fulke Gre- i And another interview with her the next day, settled that matter, Captain Fuljoy announced the ap- proaching marriage to Monsieur and Madame De Coucy. And the latter beg- ged that the marriage might take place from her ho and also offered to se- leet Mademoiselle’s trosseau. The captain gratefully acceded to these prop And the preparaticus for the marriage were commenced. It was at eleven o'clock in the fore- noon of a lovely spring day that the bridal party left the mansion of tie French minister for St. George’s church, where they were met by the bridegroom | and his attendants, and where the mar- riage ceremony was performed. The whole company then returned to the | mansion, where Madame De Coucy en- tertained them at an elegant brea ft After which the bridegroom and | bride set out for Fuljoy Island, where | they were to pass their honeymoon in retirement ,and where Captain Fuljoy was expected to join them in the course | of a few days. CHAPTER XVII. It was a glorious day—that first of May! Never had the verdant Island, | the broad river and its wooded banks, | seemed fresher, gayer or lovelier, , Within a shaded creek on the south- ern side of the island, a little boat of | snow-white sails was moored. It had just arrived from Cornport, with cer- |. xin luxuries and eleg:ncies for the oc- :sion. And oh! but everybody in the iittle seaport town must have known what was going on at Fuljoy’s Isle that day- Within the mansion all was in a high state of bustle, getting ready for the reception of the bridal party. This wa the day after the wedding ,and the happy pair were expected to arrive in time for a late dinner. Preparations | were therefore being made upon ¢ great scale; the house had been new furnished, and decorated in elegant style. And the last finishing touches were néw being made, under the su- pervision of Miss Mehitable Powers. Miss Hit limited her labors to the ex- ertion of moving slowly from room to room, sinking heavily into easy chairs, and sighing forth her instructic@s to the troop of eager, excited housemaids that attended her. She hed waddled through the house about nine times that day, and was about to commence her tenth and Jast tour of inspection, when, suddenly, without rapping, Etty Burns daneed into the hall. Etty Burns, the | haired, red-cheeked little niece of or Patrick Burns, of Burnstop. “Oh, Miss Hit, I have come to see the rooms before the wedding party | vives! You will show me through them, will you not?” ‘laimed the breathless girl * “Bless my life and soul, Etty, how you did startle me! Why, however did you get acre . “Why, rowed acros: you suppose I sw: “You'll drown yourself some day; I ay it and stick to it. I wonder at Ma- or Patrick to let you run on as you , of course; did d “There, now! I didn’t run! I rowg], I tell you! But now! show me through | the rooms, that’s a dear, good Miss Hit.” “Show you through the rooms! humph! yes! and put all sorts of things into your head! humph, well, T suppose they would come there all the same!” sighed Miss Hit. “You ¢: make your affidavit to that!” assented Etty. “Humph, ha! well, it wasn’t so when I was young!” “No; for people had no rooms to think about; they dwelt in tents in those an- tediluvian days! Come away and let us see the suite.” “Oh, Etty, what a shame your grand- mother don’t take you home!” “My grandmother is o’er auld to be fashed wi’ the likes 0’ me.” “Oh, Etty, Etty, how your education has been neglected. The likes of you! But come along; if you must see the house ,you must, I suppose.” They were now standing in the hall, and Miss Hit opened the door on the right-hand side, and displayed the draw- ing room, in its splendid new suit of furniture, all blue and silver—blue sat- in damask curtains faced with silver, and draped with inner hangings of lace; blue velvet sofas, and ottomans, and easy chairs; silver chandeliers to match; and, finally, a Brussels carpet, with blue harebells running over a sil- very-white ground. The room was dec- | erated with flowers, wreathed around | the chandeliers, festooned over the tops of the mirrors, and grouped in vases upon the mantel-pieces and center and side tables. Etty, who had never seen anything better than the plain, old-fashiened farm house furniture at Burnstop, was in raptures at all this finery, among which sh ewould have loved to linger had not Miss Hit opened a communicat- ing door, and introduced her into a very pretty little morning room, the hang- ings and furniture of which were of maize-colored silk. They then crossed the central hall, opened the door on the left hand, and entered the dining room, the walls of which were covered with the finest pic- tures—some were originals of celebrat- tion, he trotted off immediately to Mad- | mirer, thinking every new copies from old masters, In the midst of the room stood the dintier table, cov- ered with the snowy damask that fell to the carpet, and decorated with Sey- res china, Bohemian glass, silver-gilt ornaments and bouquets of flowers. ee exclamation of delight burst form yy “Oh! it is a perfect altar of beauty, even now! And how splendid it will be when it is lighted up! And. oh! whata pity to spoil such a beautiful piece of work with commonplace eating and drinking!” “La, child! it will trot be common- place, wholesome eating and drinking; h it was! Bless you, the captain has sent down a French cook and con- |fectioner, who have prepared fancy dishes enough to poison the whole of Ahasuerus' army,” said Miss Hit. lead- ling the way into an adjoining m room, whose furniture id hangings Were green and gold. “As if there was not green enough on the outside, in all conscience,” carped the irritated old lady. But Etty was a thorough-going ad- apartment that she saw more elegant than any she had already seen. But, now, Miss Hit, take me up stairs and show me Astrea’s room. I am dying to see Astrea’s own: room,” | said Etty, eagerly. | “Astrea’s room! Bless the girl! Why, Astrea has a long suite of rooms! Time | was when one private apartment served to accommodate one lady; but noy days, no less than four seem: to: be: re- quired.” “Four!” “Four!” said Miss Hit, leading the way | 's to the great central hall on! the second floor, upon which all the! chambers opened. “This is Astrea’s sleeping room,’” she | continued, as she introduced her vis into a spacious chamber immediately | over the drawing room . re It was a very bower of beauty. The | hangings of the windows and of Upbed | were of white lace, over rosecolored | The paper on the walls and the! carpet on the floor were of a corre-| sponding pattern—red roses running over a white ground. The dressing ta-j ble was also draped with white lace over rose-colcred silk. Rich di uperi of lace were hung ever the festooned back with bunch U pon the table stood an elegant dre ing case of mother-of-pearl, witl interior fixtures of Bohemian Fy wrought gold. An easy chair stool of rose-colored yelvet, draped | with tidies of white crochet work, stood | near at hand. The French windows in front opened upon an upper balcony, | where stood large marble vases filled | with r While simple Etty would have lin-| gered in ecstacy among the pretty toys | of this room, Miss Hit hurried her on | ‘to the adjoining apartment in the rear, | which was Astrea’s dressing room, and | i elegantly fitted up with white-and-gold_ enamelled wardrobes, | bureaus, tables and washstands, and a! Sevres china and silver toilet service, and thence on into Col) Greville’s dress- | ing room, of buff and white, and finally | into his bed chamber, of rosewood fur- | niture and purple hangings. These four rooms were all in a line, running from back to front, and communiéating with each other by connecting doors. Each room had also a door opening up- on the central hall,, and windows com- manding a westerly view through the side of the house. It is necessary to so. minutely describe the locality, that the reader may fully understand the events that are to follow . “That is all.” said Miss Hit, as she passed out of Colonel Greville’s bed-! room into the hall, near the head of the back stairs. “And now, Etty, I must really go and dress, to be ready to re- ceive the wedding party. To be sure, it is early, but there is no certainty about the time of the al of the boat! It may be, any day. two or three hours before or after its time.” But Etty kept close to Miss Hit; fol- lowed her up into a front chamber of | the third story, and assisted her in ar- rayirg her stout form ir. a straw-col- ored silk dress, with three deep flounces —that made her look bigger than ever. | Then Etty walked out upon the upper | baleory, and, looking down the creek, | exclaimed, suddenly “The boat is coming, Miss Hit! She) is just turning Cornport Point and en-| tering the mouth of the creek!” “Then she will be here in fifteen min- | utes,” answered Miss Hit, liastily add- | ing a Maltese lace collar and under--) sleeves to her dress, and then calling to | Etty, and hurrying down stairs to the | ground floor, where she was met by all ihe house servants, who, haying also} seen the boat, were liurring toward her to receive fresh orders. | “Seph! Many! Run to that French | | | fellow in the kitchen and tell him that dinner must be on the: table in half an hour; so if there is anything yet to be done to his entrements of sea-nettles nad frogs and other reptiles, he had better do it,” said the old lady, as she sailed on to the dining room to give 2 last look at the table. “Sea-nettles! Do the French eat sea- nettles, Miss Hit?’ inquired Etty; in horror. “Yes, dear; and snails, and frogs; and toadstools, and black beetles, for aught I know! And one thing is certain: I! shall not venture to touch anything: for | dinner except an honest joint that I can | see all about, for fear of being: poi- | soned. I am sure, I don’t wonder at |} revolutions and reigns of terror; when | we think of what they live on!" | “Miss Hit, I don’t envy your dinner} party! but I will just go down and hide | myself in the shrubberies until I see | the bride land, and then I wil! slip) away home. Good-by.” t “Good-by, my dear! I have no doubt | we shall soon have you and the major | over to dinner some day soon; but, you | see, for the first week or two, the young ecuple wish to be quiet.” “Yes! I hope they will send away) the French cook before they invite us, | however,’ ’said Etty, dancing away. She went down to the south extrem- ity of the island, where, hidden among a group of rose bushes, she watched the Busy Bee as it steamed toward the landing place on the island. It came on very swiftly, and at length stopped ; at the mouth of the small creek imme- diately below her point of observation. Here, while the boat was blowing off her steam, the bridal party landed, at- tended only by a man servant and a la. dy’s maid. The bridegroom and the bride ad- vanced up the shaded avenue, followed by their attendants, bringing traveling bags and dressing cases. “Oh! what a glorious gift to woman | patents—that of baptism.” ed living artists, and others excellent is beauty! It gains for her everything | | while I go and have the dirner serve | chamber, for ' tently demanded a reasen for her ex- else she needs to make her life happy, Ah! I would be willing to die youns. i¢ only while I live I could be as lovely and as beloved as she is!” said Etty to herself, as she peeped through the rose bushes at the beautiful young bride. But she who spoke possessed in her | soul of fire a more potent spell over minds and hearts thai ever was Wicld- ed by mere beauty. f Etty waited until the bridal pair fica passed out of sight, and then glifed through the bushes to the sands where she had left her little row boat, un- moored, got into it, and rowed awa from the island. And while Etty’s little skiff gli across the placid waters, and the Busy Bee steamed its way up the creek the bridal party reached the mansion house. CHAPTER XVIII, They were received on the front) porch by Miss Hit,. all fiounces, flaxen | curls and smiles. | “You are welcome to Fuljoy’s: Isle, | Colonel Greville. Mrs- Greville, you are | welcome: I wish you both much joy i your future lives,” she said, shaking | hands in turn with the bride and bridegroom. “Your luggage is already carried up to your,apartinents. Would | you like to be shown thither before din- ner?’ she added. “If you please, Miss Hit. member that to you I am alw Daney,” said the bride. X Hit had already sent the lady's maid up stairs, under the charge cf Mandy. And now the old lady led ihe And re} Ss little Ww thither, and opening the dosr | troduced the’ bride into her elegant chamber. | An exclamation of pleasure broke | from Astrea’s lips as she threw hers lf into her easy chair before her dressing table, and gazed rourd the preity room with its ugings ef rose-colored | silk and fine lace. | “Oh, how good and how perfect is bi is my dear guardian, e!” she suid. | “Bless you, child! it I tain’s taste. He sent down uphol- | sterer, with a carte blanche; the man | knew his. busine: sult. But the captain has taste, the: no denying that. And now, m will leave you to change your nd you see the » said M ng the reom. Mademoiselle Fifiine, Mrs. Greville’ French maid, was in the a dressing room, ergeged in un trunks and boxes, and putting a their contents in bureaus and w robes; but, summotred now by her mis- | tress, she came and attended her atl. toilet. | When her toilet was complete, even | to the delicate white gloves and ihe | | | white cobweb of a handkerchief. she stepped through the French windows of | her chamber out upon the p look once nore upon the lovely h her childhood. The aspect was a South- ern one. The exceeding beauty, glory and sub- limity of the scene almost suspended in ecstacy the breath of the beholder. While Astrea gazed, entranced, slic heard a light step beside her, felt a soft hand upon her, and turned to see her husband by her side. Then they went down to the dining | room, where, bride and_ bridegroom | though they were, they did full justice to the luxurious feast spread before | them. How ed their evening? In conversation and moonlight walks upon the terrace. Then, weary | with their journey from the y-to the | isle, they retired to their apartments. | And not until then did the tired house- hold seek repose. | Miss Hit waddled around in ber last tour over the establishment, to see that | the windows and doors were closed and all the lights and fires put out. And dy and Sephy. room on the third floor front, where she sank panting into an eas These two gi aly garret above Miss Hit’s room; but. it | was the custom, growing out of her sol- | } itude, for the old lady to detain them a few minutes every night im her own little gessip or last or ders, before dismissing them to their own. You may be sure that‘this even- | ing proved no exception to the general rule. There was much to be talked over. And as Miss Hit sat blowing ina her chair, Mandy offered te comb her } ephy to take off her shoes | before leaving her, And | aids were thus engaged. | Hit spoke—of the bridal pair, of se. For, let it be remembered, thai | this was the first time for three years | that the household of the isle had sct eyes on either the lady or-the gentie-j man. “She's wonderfully Astrea—Mrs. Greville, said Miss Hit. “I ’clar’ I shouldn’’ a-known ler, | mum,” arswered Mandy: “No, nor Marse Fulke—the Colonel: I} mean. Isn’t he handsome, just?” ob- | served Sephy. | “T hope it will be a happy marriage.” sighed Miss Hit. “And so does I, mum; but I las mr | own thougkts,” said’ Mandy. “La! why shouldn't it be happy?) Just see what a handsome pair they | are!” observed Seplty. But Miss Hit had turned an appalle! eountenance upon Mandy, as if she s-| improved—Miss I should pressed forebodings. Mandy was a well formed, tall, sler~ der girl, with a good-humored Dlact face, iaughing bluck eyes, and smiling lips that displayed rows of teeth whit? and smooth as. ivory. There was 4& great deal of wit, intelligence and a‘ fection in Mandy’s nature. Aud het truth, honesty and fidelity won the re gard of the whole family. It was therefore, with much confidence that Miss Hit listened to her explanaticn. “You see, Miss "Hitable. mum, I ne= er said nuffin’ ’tll to nebody *bout whet I’m going to tell you now. You ’men- ber de las* ebenin as eber Marse Fulke. was here, afore he went away so sul: dint?” “Yes, I do. Ané@ I knew at the time | how supposing—— | cap, and go to bed- before you lie dow: the evil i thoughts ilito yur Head will depart | from you id M | sleep. | out with watching, she fell’a | floor, in the angle of the hous: and wouldn’t mention it now only for wy misgivings-” i ‘What was it?” “Well, you see, ole Inarse, he wanted young marse to marry Miss Daney. She Was Miss Dany then, so 1 might call her so. Well, he—Young mar mean—wouldn’t. Aad ole laarse evax him, and he wouldn’t. And he scolded him, and he wouldr't. Last of aif, he turned him off and ordered hin out of the house, and told him as he was going, that if ever he changed his and come to his seps pd retu marry Miss Daney, he would f him and love him and e hi fortune. And so they a mind this, Miss Hit, mum. As yotgg marse W: assing through the fi half on his way out, 2 me down on de fleor takin’ greast spots, he s to: hisself: ‘If I w be tempted to marry that girl fortune, I should be wicked eno’ terward, to murder her for freed for heaven’s sake, hush! very blood run cold nd ‘deed, mum, ¢ words he used! I ‘met sifit was dis minute Th ry Word was ¢¥ And oh! very vom for it seem like ebe me, I was so burted Hit! to think at last he has ed to marry of her for wicked girl! There! The girls loo! led, as they often did’ wh the big; fat, good-natv keeper, and then, with a curtsy they withdrew to thei “T don’t know what me to-night; ‘I feel ver omething ¥ ad at each other and scolded quite as if pen; it an awful experience: be a pr ntiment of evil, or haps, it is only—indig into her the old lady, as she turped comfortable bed. But she could not com With a nervous sual to one of her phelginatic té slight sound, ing that she heard stealthy on the poreh beneath her windows and’ befere the | apartment of Mrs. Greville. 1 it was near daylight when at length, worm CHAPTER XIX. The household was astir ‘ve the next morning. The spacious | fast parlor was situated on the first nd had two French windows opening east and two opening south, to let in the light of the rising sun, the beauty of the land- seape, the fragrance of the flow and the songs of the birds. The floor was coyered with straw matting. the win- dows draped with white muslin and the breakfast table spread with snov dama: laden with Seyres chin adorned with a bouquet of lillie erything about the room was cool, airy, slegant and inviting. Miss Hit, entering the apartment, ex- pr ed herself satisfied with the ar- rangement. But as the first freshness of the morning passed aw: the sun went round to the south windows. the ; dewexhaled from the flowers, and the ngs of the birds were hushed, and still the young couple did not make their appearance. Miss Hit grew im- patient. “The breakfast will not be fit to eat, that is all!”’said the old lady, in an ir- ritated ton of voice, as e walked up and down. the hall for a half-hour long- er. At length, calling to a p vant, she said, impatientl “Mandy! j step up sta tice if you see a door open, or of life up there!” Mandy. tripped softly up stairs, and soon returned, “Colonel Gre sing ser- nnd no- any signs for he is just brushing of his Yr, and? soldier- servant is holding of his or him to put it on; and young mi: s door is ajar; but f dent hear her-stitring.” “Then tell Ma’amselle Fifine te carry up hot water to Her room,” said Miss. Hit. Mandy went dowm te the servant’s sitting-room with tlie order; but Ma’am- lle declared’ that she dared not in~ trude into Her mistress’ chamber untif she heard’ her ring, that it was against the rule. And Mafhdy came b: with the reply: to Miss: Hit. “She.is-a French fool! and that istie worst of all fools! Take the water up yourself, Mandy!" said the lady. Mandy obeyed the order, and was soon: seem passing softly up the stairs with-a larg silver pitcher in her hands. But im less than two minutes after- ward a succession of ear-splitting shrieks: were heard, and Mandy rushed down the stairs, every feature of her face distorted with horror. “What is the matter? What en earth ails the girl?” exclaimed Miss Hit. But, instead of answering, Mandy seized the old lady round the waist, hid her: faee for a moment against her fat bosom, and uttered shriek after shriel Are you frantic, girl?, Stop scream- ing, for goodness sake, and say plainly what ails you!” But Mandy's shrieks were only changed to hysterical gasps, and she re- plied not a word . “Have you broken anything costly? Tf so, tell me at onee. You'll not be hung for it, you knew, anyhow!” But the girl was really quite incepa- ple of answering, and with a few more choking gasps she sank upon the floor: “Go up stairs and see what has oc-) eurred. And you, Mandy, come out of there was some quarrel between him | this in one minute. You know f won't and his uncle, though nothing was ever said pe it afterward.” “Well, mum, it ¥os a quarre?, and all about little Daney, Miss Astrea, I mean, Mrs Greville, as I should say. You see, mum, dat, dat ebenin’ I wis busy taking de candle-grease spcts eut’n de carpet in de hall nigh to je dinin’ room, ween T heard all they sa.d, which T never mentioned of it afore, allow hysterics!” said Miss Hit, angrily. In obedience te the housekeeper’s | command, and in curiosity te see what costly vase or looking glass was shir ered, Sephy flew up stairs, but present- ly rushed screaming down again, and fied through the open hall door ont 98 | the house, ee To Be Continued, é | [ = + =.- 4 ¥