Grand Rapids Herald-Review Newspaper, October 30, 1897, Page 6

credit, and thus to learn her fate. C CHAPTER LVIII. A week slipped away, and Astrea ~was well enough to leave her room. She went over the house, and found that Rumford’s servants, by way of ‘recommending themselves to the new master, had given it a thorouga reno- vation, and made it really pleasant. Astrea, with a conyalescent’s eager- ness for out-doots, wandered all day long about the grounds. She had no one to restrain or advise her, and so she went out early and stayed out late every day, until at last, in her feeble condition, she took a cold, that once mcre confined her to her room. It late one afternoon that sbe was sitting in the easy chair, beside the back window of her’ chamber, watching the crimson, purple and gold- en clouds that canopied so royally the setting sun, when she heard the sound of wheels upon the drive, and present- ly the noise of a large arrival. There, were two carriages stopped before the which discharged their passen- ge then followed the entrance of many people into the hall; the sound of soft, silvery voices, mingled with rougher tones; and the thumping drop of many heavy trunks and boxes upon the floor. By these “tokens true” As- trea felt sure that the new master and his family had arrived. Some of the party went up stairs, and their trunks were carried up be- dind them. Others—ladies they into the front chamber adjoining her own. Here their silvery voices were once more heard giving directions re- garding the location of their luggage. speaking to s were gentle and courte- argued well of them, Some ed, in which it seemed that they changed their traveling dresses; and then all went out together and en- Next Astrea heard the servants ¢: ing in the tea, and then “the soft tinkle of silver spoons upon china sau .” and the cheery voices that usually are hes around the tea-table. An hour pass thus. And then she heard the serv- ants remove the tea service. And then in a few moments, to her great relief, Venus entered the room, bring- ing her supper. . “So dey’s come at last,” said Venus, as she set the cup of coffee and plate of buttered toast beside Astre; “and, honey, I takes back all I ever said ag’in ‘em, even if dey are ole marse’s “lations, ‘deed [ do!” “Then you like the new master?” Astrea inquired. Toney, de new marse is a missus, proper lady, too, 2s she ’haves If like a lady, an’ knows how to reat human creeturs as sich, an’ not seemed—went eve » is she, and what is her name?’ y, how 1 know who she is, ole ma "s heiress? An" name, I ain’t heard it yet.” “Who was with-her? ‘here seemed to be several ladies. Who are they?’ “Her chillun, honey, her chillun; she’s deir moder, dough she do look more like deir iter.” Astrea, with the interest natural to position, asked many more s about the newly-arr nd when they had been satisfa swered, feeling weak as for he and > retired to bed. Venus, who still occupied her place on the mat- tress beside Astrea’s bedstead, soon followed her example. About 10 she heard the ladies enter the adjoining room and go to rest. Then, as nothing j more disturbed her during the night, she went to sleep. Karly in the morning, Astrea, feel- ing much recovered, arose and dressed herself. She was, in truth, very anx- ious to be introduced as soon as possi- ble to the new mistress, so as to tell ber story, if perchance it might gain Veuus, as usual, brought her break- fast to her room, and told her that the mew mistress and her party were also at breakfast in the dining room. Astrea drank her chocolate and ate her muffin, and then awaited with im- patience an opportunity of speaking to the new proprietor. ‘rom time to time during the morning, Venus put her head in at the door to report prog- wess. Once she said: “Missus done sent pos’ haste for de lawyer.’ And another cime she an- nounced: “Marse Lawyer Fulmore done ’rived; an’ he an’ de madame in de parlor sit- tin’ at de center table wid a whole raft o’ papers before dem.” Upon another occasion she looked in and said: “Missus readin’ over a list o’ field nan’s.” Late in the afternoon she en- tered the room and announced: “De lawyer is gone. De madam an’ de young ladies is in de parlor. De madam been lookin’ over a list of de house servants, an’ has had ebery one of us up before her, one at a time, to speak to an’ get ’quainted wid, like. An’ now she has jes’ ax for de girl Zora, which she means you, honey, an’ she wants you to come in immedi- ate.” “She is in the parlor, you said?’ in- quired Astrea, rising. ttin’ in dere wid de young la- dies.” Astrea went for a moment to the glass, smoothed her hair, adjusted her dress, and passed directly to the par- lor. As she entered, her eyes fell upon a striking group. Upon the sofa that stcod between the two front windows, w seated a stately and beautiful woman, whose bright, golden hair and fair, radiant complexion Wwere-well set off by her rich mourning dress. Be- side her, and leaning caressingly upon her shoulder,sat a lovely young girl, who, in features and complexion, so closely resembled the lady that strang- ers would have taken them for sisters. Upon a cushion at the lady’s feet, sat a little, dark, sparkling kind of a crea- ture, whose crimson cheek rested upon the lady’s lap, but whose head was nearly concealed by a fall of glittering jet-black ringlets. The girl raised her | ONDEMNED --TO-- WEALTH. e > 4 brilliant black eyes for a moment to look at the new-comer. And, with a sudden cry, she sprung to her feet and ran across the floor, exclaiming: “Why, that is Daney! That is As- trea! That is Mrs .Fulke Greville!” Then, as if unable to advance another step, or speak another word, Kttie Burns, for of course it was herself, stopped short in breathless astonish- ment and joy. CHAPTER LIX. “Oh, Ettie! Ettie Burns!” exclaimed Astrea, hurrying forward, “have you come from Heaven to save me?” “No; I came from New York with my splendid grandmother! But where did you come from? How came you away down here in this out-of-the-way place? I never!” , “Ettie, I was forcibly abducted and brought here. I have been kept in re- straint ever since, and not even been permitted to write to my friends!” “Well—I—neyer! Here is a go! Do you know, Astrea, that many people believe you to have been murdered, and that Colonel Greville——’ Here Ettie abruptly paused in her speech, frightened by the sudden paleness of Astrea, and conscious that she had nearly id too much, for she had been on the point of adding, “has been ar- rested for your murder.” “Colonel Greville! Oh, what of Col- onel Greville, Ettie?’ eagerly ques- tioned Astrea. “Won't believe a word about your having been killed, you know! And neither will the captain? ’ “And are they well? Oh, Httie, are they well?” “Why, yes; as well as anybody could hope them to be and you away!” “My husband, Ettie! oh, is he in good health?’ “As h circumstances, I tell you.” “And my dear old guardian! oh is oll! Are you sure he does not “Not—one—bit? He looks as might live half a century if he arty as possible, under the | | vo! ‘What ts that, my dear?’ - “Why, my Grandma Greville is your step-mother-in-law!” “Step-mother-in-law, Ettie?”’ “Well, yes, she is, slightly!" “How do you mean, dear?” “Why, if Mrs. Greville 1s Colonel Greville’s step-mother; isn’t she your step-mother-in-law ?” - “Ettie!” exclaimed Astrea, in a low and hurried voice, “do you mean to tell me that this lady is tie Mrs. Courtney Greville of New York, who——" “Well, she ain’t anybody else! And here she comes now, herself, to see what we are at!” exclaimed Ettie, as Mrs. Greville was observed to arise and approach them. The conversation between Astrea and Ettie had gone cn with great rap- idity. Answer had followed question, and exclamation had followed com- ment with breathless vehemence. But it must not be supposed that it had been unobserved. Mrs. Greville and Lois had witnessed the meeting and the recognition at first with astonish- ment and stupefaction; then they had watched the excited interview with the deepest interest. Some parts of the conversation were perfectly audi- ble; other portions, in which the par- ties lowered their voices, were not so. Enough, however, had reached Mrs. Greyville’s ears to convince her that in this lovely young stranger Ettie had recognized the lost bride of Fuljoy’s Island. Twice or thrice, from the im- pulses of benevoleace, she had risen to approach the speakers. And as’often, from scruples of delicacy, she had hes- itated to intrude upon the interview. She had hoped that Ettie herself would see the propriety of presenting her friend; but when she saw that her rustie grandckild had no such. in- tention, and when she heard her own relationship to the young stranger al- luded to, thus opening a way for her graceful approach, she immediately came forward and, holding out her hand, said, in a voice tremulous with emotion, that even she, practiced wo- man of the world, could not entirely pPress: “Yes, I am that Mrs. Greville, step- |; Mother to your husband, from he, | longer! | though that would be a pity for him, | too, for I—do—know—that when Cap- | tain William Fuljoy dies he'll go straight to Heaven, without even be- ing asked to show his ticket!” “All well! All well! Oh, thank Heaven!” said Astrea, fervently. “But, Ettie, if they do not believe I was | murdered, how do they account for my absence?” “They ‘thought that you had been stolen away! And they put advertise- ments in all the papers, and they’ of- tered large rewards for any informa- |tion about you! and, oh, dear! here's another go!” “What, dear Ettie?”’ “Why, I shall get the reward, be- cause I have found you! And, oh! it is ever so many thousand dollars! Be- cause Colonel Greville, and Captain Fuljoy and Madame de Glacie all put in, I do suppose!” “Madame de Glacie, my dear? W110 is Madame de Glacie?” ‘Oh, crickey! But then, of course, you don’t know! She’s your mamma, that yeu were stolen away from when you were a baby! Don’t you know, you used to haye a dim recollection of an old chateau and a—” Yes, yes; tell me about my moth- “Well, you see, she saw your carte- de-yisite in how window in Par and so she recognized it as the like- ness of her daughter, and she made inquires, and finally traced you all the way to Fulj Isle, and arrived only a few days after you were missed.” “Oh ,my poor mother! What a bitter disappointment!” “Wasn't it, though? tell you what, she’s a brick; and L don’t believe the cthers could have | borne up at all if it hadn't been for her! She kept up all their spirits! She it was who first insisted that you were not dead, and she it was who had all the advertisements put in the pa- pers, and who employed my handsome uncle, Welby Dunbar, to hunt you up!” “Welby Dunbar!” re-echoed Astrea, as the name sounded in her ears like a dim resemblance of her childhood. “Yes! My handsome uncle! he is here now! Oh, won’t he be glad, rath- er, though? He shan’t have the re- ward, however, because I found you!” “And do you mean to say that my mother’s attorney, the gentleman she employed to seek me, is really in this house?” “Well, he is not anywhere else,” said Ettie, ‘and you can see him if you like!” “Heaven be praised! But, oh, Ettie, how was it that he came? Did they get any clue to help them to trace me here?’ “Not the least little bit in the world!” “How, then, is it that he is here?” “Chance, accident, Providence, 1 mean! And the most natural thing in the world! You see, he is my splendid grandmother’s son, and my splendid grandmother is Mr. Rumford’s sister and heiress, and she came down here to take possession of the property!” “Providence, indeed! But, my dear Ettie, how is it that you are here? I thought you a fixture at Burnstop?’ “My Grandfather Burns died and f was sent to my Grandma Greville in New York!” “Your Grandma Greville, my dear? 1 did not know that you had a grand- ma of that name!” “Of course you didn’t; because, you see,” said Ettie, lowering her voice, confidentially, “I didn’t know it my- self until a little while ago, for the reason, that Grandfather Burns and Grandmother Greville couldn’t saddle horses together.” “Couldn’t saddle horses together, Ettie!” continued Astrea in a perplexed and questioning tone. “Oh, Bosh! you know what 1 mean —they couldn’t agree; and so he ney- er mentioned her to me until just be- fore he died. And, oh, I say, Astrea! here’s another go! it has just struck me!” Ah, but didn’t | she bear it like a hero, neither? Wit) | when a boy, in a fit of boyish pique, ran away. hrough the most remark- able combination of circumstances, we have been separated and estranged ever since. But you, my dear, I hope, may be the means of uniting us. That if he has not taught you to hate and distrust me.” Astrea was trembling violently; but she answered, though in a faltering “My husband never mentioned your name to me. But, from other sources, I know that the estrangement was not of his making. As soon as he had won some honors at the college to which our uncle sent him, he wrote, most respectfully, to inform you of his success. Lady, the only answer he received to his letter was a cold line, disclaiming all knowledge of the writ- er. You cannot wonder that he never wrote again.” “I do not! But, oh, my dear, it all grew out of the strangest freak of fortune that was ever played by 3 ish-boy. At the very moment of writ- that letter, I was firmly persuaded my step-son was under my own f, and that some imposter had written to me! The story is too long to tell you now. But this much I may say: that a boy, the perfect image, counterpart, fac-simile of my son, was picked up in the streets of New York and brought to me. He was a ;trang- er in the city. There w no time to prove his proper identity; while there were hundreds ready to swear that he was Fulke Greville, my step-son. In a word, ever after he bere that name and held that position.” “An imposter!’ broke from the lips of Astrea. “No, my dear! no imposter; but a ncble-souled lad, who vainly protested a st «the privilege: honors and riches that were lavished upon him, declaring that he had no lawful right to them, until all his resistance was overborne by evidence and authority, and he was compelled to submit, at least during his minority. But after he became of age, and found himself a free agent, he seized the first oppor- tunity of resigning a position to which he asserted he had no claim. Do you think it required no moral heroism to do that? I tell you, it needed more than you know of! But I declare to you, that he has lost nothing, and shall lose nothing by that act! He is the son of my affections, the betrothed of my daughter; his name is Welby Dunbar!” “*Welby Dunbar!” exclaimed As- trea, again struck by the familiar sound of a name that it seemed to her she ought to know. Then suddenly memory lighted up the whole subject as it lay in the past, and she smiling- ly said: “I no longer wonder, lady, at this mistake of yours. As a child, I came over in the same emigrant ship with Welby Dunbar. I lost him in the wilderness of New York. I was taken down to Maryland, and was eventual- ly adopted by Captain Fuljoy, Heaven bless him! And it was while I was still at the island that Fulke came to spend his holidays there; and, as soon as I saw him, so perfect was the likeness you speak of, that I declared him to be Welby Dunbar, the fish-boy, and none else. And it was years, Madam, before I was disabused of this illusion.” “I am well pleased to hear you say so; for your husband will the more ret dily understand my own self-decep- tion. But,. all this time, my dear, L my negligence, and take this seat,” said the lady, conducting Astrea to an enee chair that was placed near the sofa. “This is my daughter, Lois,” she continued, presenting the young lady, who frankly extended her hand and cordially greeted the stranger. Mrs. Greville then rang a bell. Venus answered it. “Tell the girl, Zora, that she need not come in just now,” said the lady. Venus stared with astonishment for an instant, and then exclaimed: _ “Hi, missus—dere’s Miss Zora a sit- tin in de rockin’ chair, right afore your two lookin’ eyes, ma’am!” “Stupid! That young lady is Mrs. Fulke Greville.” “Yes, missus—I_ knows she’s Mrs, Full Grebille an’ likewise Miss Zora; leastways, so dey will have it down here!” It was now .Mrs. Greville’s turn to be astonished. She turned her eyes full upon Astrea, with a look of ques- tioning and of shuddering. indignantly * “Jt is true, madam; Zora was the‘ name given me by my abductors, at- ter they had dyed my hair and stained my skin!” “You have a long story to tell me, my dear?” “Indeed, I have, madam!” “Venus, you may retire; but go and say to Mr. Dunbar that I would feel obliged if he would come here,” said Mrs. Greville. Venus obeyed; and as soon as the deor closed behind her, the lady turned to Astrea, and, in a voice quiy- ering with emotion, inquired: “Oh, Heaven, my child! can you re- assure me?” “Yes, my dear madam, I can! Proy- idence has watched over me! I have been safe!” “Thank Heaven!” lady. Lois opened her blue eyes, and looked from one to the other for an explanation of this short exclamatory dialogue; but at the same moment the door opened, and Welby Dunbar entered the room. -Mrs. Greville arose and met him, say- ing, in a low voice: “Webby, my dear, I believe you to be a man of steady nerves, not easily surprised from your self-possession, I am about to put that to the test.” And taking him by the hand, she led how up to the stranger, saying: “Astrea, my love, this is my son, Mr. Dunbar; Welby, my dear, this is Mrs. Fulke Greville, of whom you have been so long in search.” However steady Welby’s nerves might have been on ordinary occa. sions, he was now certainly startle: from his propriety. Instead of bow- as he was bound to do, he started back a little, trembled, flushed and paled, fumbled in his pocket for the miniature the Marquise de Glacie had given him, and gazed alternately upon that and the face of the original. At length, as if satisfied, he exclaimed: “It is, indeed! It must be!” And then, with an ingenuous blush, he said: “Pray, pardon me madam, if the sur- prise, the delight, and the incredulity I experienced in this unexpected meet- ing have made me forget myself.” “I have nothing to pardon in your , caution; and much to be grateful for | in the easy recognition that you have ! given me,” said Astrea, gently. “But we have met before, you know. You! have not forgotten the little Daney on the emigrant ship?’ she inquired, with a sweet smile lighting up the blue eyes that she fixed upon him. A whirl of emotion rushed over his face. He had not forgotten; but he had never suspected that the poor, | pale baby of the emigrant ship was | the missing child of Madame de Gla- cie. —“Because, if you have,’ she add- ed, “I have not forgotten the fish-boy who was my only friend. I do be- lieve I should have died if you had not fed me with oysters every day. Oh, how I cried when they carried me ejaculated the away!” “And how I hunted you through | New York!” said Welby, gazing still | in stupefaction upon her . i “And how I scolded you, in the per- son of Fulke Greville, whom IL be- lieved to be you if, practicing an imposition on us!” smiled Astrea. And now, Welby,” said Mrs. Gre- ville, “take a chair and draw up to our circle. I sent for you here, not only to meet Astrea, but also to hear the explanation she is about to give us.” | Then, turning to Astrea, she contin-— ued: “And now, my love, if you feel equal to the task, we wish you to tell us your stcry.” Thus invited, Astrea related tle his- tory of her abduction, as far as it was known to herself, from the night that she was surprised in her room by the black-robed figure, who clapped the sponge of chloroform over her mouth and nose, overpowering her senses, up ' to the hour in which as “Zora,” she was summoned to Mrs. Greville’s pres- ence. | Her hearers listened with breathless * interest. At the end of the story Mrs. Greville was the first to speak. 1 “What a life of vicissitudes has yours been! Born an heiress; stolen’ in your infancy afid subjected to the worst evils of poverty; adopted by a wealthy man; married to a distin- guished military officer; torn at night frem. your bridal chamber carried to sea by pirates; sold as a slave; driv- | en by desperation to the Cypress Swamp; hunted by bloodhounds; re- captured; subjected to insult; exposed to death; and rescued only at the last moment by an unexpected stroke of ' Providence! Oh, Heaven of Heavens, | what a_ story! You have passed through a furnace seven times heated, Astrea! but you have come from the fire, pure as refined gold! strong as tempered steel!” ¢ “Now, I think she has escaped all these dangers, as Tam O’Shanter’s mare did with the witches, with the loss of her long, flowing hair!” “Be still, you saucy girl,” said Mrs.’ said Mrs. Greville, smiling. ‘Then rising, and excusing herself to Astrea, she requested Welby to attend , her, and left the apartment. When they had reached the dining: room and seated themselves, Mrs. Gre- j ville inquired: | “And now, what should be our first step?” “In view of what may be even now be taking place in the criminal courts \ of Maryland, and with which it is not advisable to trouble the young lady—” “No, no—certainly not!” put in Mrs. Greville. —“We should act with the greatest promptitude. We should go immedi- ately to the city, taking Mrs. Fulke Greville and Miss Burns with us, prove her identity before some mag- istrate, lay the whole affair before the police, and get them to send an offi- cial telegram to the authoritities in Maryland to arrest proceedings against ‘Colonel Greville. We must also send a telegram to Captain Ful-| joy and to Colonel Greville, informing them of our discovery. Then we may write a fuller account by mail. But my idea is, that as soon as Captain Fuljoy receives my message, and Colo- nel Greville is set at liberty, they will hasten here.” “That is excellent! but would it not be better for you to set out immedi- ately with Astrea?’ “No; I am sure she could never bear the journey. She is but a feeble convalescent: still.” “True. You remember everything, while 1 remember nothing.” _ “But then, it is my trade,” smiled | Welby. “And, my dear, as we are both to go to the city to-day ,the sooner we set forth the better; so [ will trouble you to order the carriage, while we put on our bonnets.” J BS The young man left the room to comply with this request. Ard a few minutes afterward, Mrs. Greville, As- trea, Ettie and Welby were seated ir the old-fashioned coach, driven by Sam, and on their way to the city. They reached the city in a few hours, and returned late in the evening. After this, to the great delight of Venus, and to the huge astonishment of the other negroes, Astrea was ele- vated to her proper position in the family and treated with the utmost re- spect and affe@tion. Venus tossed her head very high, in view of her superior information on the subject. “I knowed it all along, niggers! Mrs. Full Grebille done take me in her conference long ago! I knowed it, de ship!” “Oh, yes! you knows ebery ting-— arter it’s all found out!’ laughed old Cybele. “Berry well, den! I knowed it arter it was all found out, did 1? Now, den, I gwine to tell you sometin’ afore it’s found out, an dat is dis—how 1m gwine to be bought an’ sot free by Mrs. Full Grebille! Mine, I tell you all dat afore its found out!” oy: a long way afore it’s found out!’ said Cybele. drily. “So long, 1 misdoubts we'll lib to see it!” “Berry well, den! Now I tell you more—how I is gwine to be hired to her for a lady’s maid, an’ gwine to go along of her an’ de colonel to Eu- rope!” “To which “To Europ “What dat?” “What Europe! I’spises dese coun- try-bred niggers’ ignorance!” “Come, now. You’s only been on one voyage roun’ de world, an you puts on airs! Bet anyt’ing you don’t ree no more ’bout Europe dan we lo” “Don't 1? Why, it’s a great city, bigger dan New Orleans, out yonder, beyant Washington, dere’s what it is, an’ where it is; which I’m going dere myself as lady’s maid to Mrs.. Full Grebille, when she qn’ de eolonel goes onto deir bridal tower!” “Bridle—whieh ?” “Bridal tower, you ignorant-mus! An’ sides which, I’m not agoin’ to de- mean myself no more with wearin’ no ¢alieo gowns an’ banana turbins; but I shall have a black silk dress an’ a little lace cap, trimmed wid pink satin ribbon, like Missus Courting Grebille’s lady’s maid, Mammyselle Sillystone!” “Whee—ew!” commented the old ne- gro, taking his pipe from his mouth, and letting off a thin, spiral curl of smoke. Jnele Satan! you intoxitied, sar!” “I's whieh?” “Intoxified!” “Do you mean drunk?” “J beliebs dat whst de wulgar calls de staté you's in.” “Go ’way from here, gal. I neber drunk in my life!’ said the old man, good-humoredly, knocking the ashes inquired Uncle Satarn. j out of his pipe. “You is! which its’s no wonder, *long as you exn’t leab de wine glasses be; but must allus drain dry ebery single glass as it come outen de dinin’ room; ixin all up togeder—pert, an’ elary, an’ shampain, an’ sherry, an’, an’ all!” “Well, dey’s all good; an” one set off anoder, jes’ de whites ob your eyes sets off de black ob your skin, my deary,” grinned the old man. Ir. Satan ’Gregor, sar, I scorns to *ply to you! I’s a lady maid, an” ’clines to keep comp’ny wid de like ob you! said Venus, throwing up her head and walking, with great dignity, from the kitchen. “Whee—ew! what long whiskers our pussy cat has got!” cried Uncle Saturn, blowing a whiff of tobacco smoke after her. But Venus did not boast in vain Astrea, in her reviving fortunes, membered the faithful, huanble fri of her adversity. One day, while Mrs. Greville, As- trea, Lois and Ettie were sitting at work together in the parlor, the first- mentioned said to the second: “Astrea, Iove, I wish to do some- thing to prove my affection for you! What shall it be?” “Dear Mrs. Greville, that which is so evident does not want proof. I shalt never doubt your love,” replied Astrea. “Then, to put the meaning in other words, I wish to add te your happi- ness. In what manner can I do so?” “Kindest of friends, I was about to say that nothing but the presence of ‘my husband and my guardian could add to my happiness; but that would not be true; there is another circum- stanee that would delight me.” “Name it, my lore!” “The possession of Venus! She was the only friend-I had im the darkest days of my captivity—my friend from the moment I first opened my eyes in the pirate ship to the moment she eame to summon me to your presence! And such a friend! She had no tiber- ty to lose, poor wemaia; but she risked her life, and even her sovl for me; and——” here Astrea hesitated and blushed. “and what, my dear; what would you have?” “[ would like to purchase Venus of you; oh, forgive me! 1 know 1 am rude, but then, I wish to have Venus always with me! It would grieve me deeply to part with dear Venus!” “You shall have her, my love! and no doubt she will be a treasure to you! for, between mistress and maia the tie of affection is everything.” And, so saying, Mrs. Greville, who was prompt in all her acts, arose and went into the next room, where Wel- by Dunbar sat writing at a table. She held a whispered conversation with him for a few minutes, and then ad returned to her circle of daughters, | and entered upon a new subject of conversation. That night, when Astrea retired to her room, she saw upon her dressing table a large envelope addressed to her. Upon examining its contents, she found a deed of gift, transferring Ve nus from the possession of Mrs. Gre- ville to herself. Astrea’s act followed close upon that of Mrs. Greville. The next morning, direetly aftr. break- fast, she spoke to Welby Dunbar, say- ing: “Will you do me a favor?* ore this document,” deed oo site = jand cing ; pauker of La ee: »* 7 archment out, say: i eryou perceive that I foresaw th you would make this request, ané 2 . ticipated it! Here are the hae pers,” as the negra eer them. ature only is wa S oO hand me a pen!” exciainred Astrea, hurriedly. He put be 3s in ft hi nie open docunient before her. iy affixed her signature, and then — up the parchment, and, with child eagerness, ran into her bed room, where Venus Ingered after haying rran, it for the day. _ pie St dear Venus! here are Lad free papers! here! here!” said she, eagerly, thrusting the packet into the voman’s hand. fe wey fee papers” repeated Venus, an bewildered by the suddenness of the transaction. “Yes, yes, woman now; but yourself! You can com as you please! You can when you like!” “Oh, honey! I mean, madam! would you turn me Ioose, now, to be made 2 mock of, by de niggers, arter me braggin’ to denr as how I wis a-goin to be your lady maid?” \whined Venus. | “No, no; I never wish to part with & you, Venus!” “Den why say it?” “Only to inform you, Venus, that you po: s the power of going wherever u please. If you like to remain with me, I will gladly engage you as my own maid!” ee “Dere! I knowed it! I said it: I telled ’em all so Dere was 4 prophe- cye in my soul as how I'd Tib to see myself a lady maid, an’ wear x silk dresse: n’ little lace car «laimed Venus, more delighted office than at her freedom. “Iam happy, Venus, to be the means of realizing to you your day-dream. said Astrea, smiling. "Twa'nt no dre flreams allus goes contra imaeéd! It was all my own thoughts. honey—Mrs. Full Grebille, I should and, and laid the Shy hasti- Venus! You are a free you belong to no one ne and £0, leave mre enus, I have a request to wake of you.” “What dat, chile—Mrs. Fuil Grebille. 1 mean.” “It is that you will continue to call me child and henéy, as before. Love and its pet names are much dearer te my heart than pride and i:s titles.” “So it is to mine, honey, aa’ a heap more nateral, too.” “Now, then, Venus, as you are to be my attendant, and go with me to the North, you will want an outfit. Here, then, is fifty dollars, your first half- year’s wages, in advance,” said As trea, putting a purse in the woman's hand. “Lor’, chile, I wages to wait om you. \ you free-hearted for nothing, sake 0” 4 | bein’ ‘long o’ you. ’Sides, what F ‘ gwine to do wid all dis here goold?” “Buy clothes, Venus.” didn’t ax for ne » ld. wait om labor “I keep it for your sake; den, chile. I put it in de bottom o’ my chis' n” I look at it, an’ think o' you! An honey. y I go an’ tell ole Aunt Oy- bele an’ ole Uncle Satan?” “Certainly,” answered Astrea, smi ing. Venus ran all of the way out of the house across the yard, and into the kitchen, holding her free papers at arms’ length. And when she got inte the presence of the old negroes, she waved them derisively in their faces, exclaiming: “Dere! what I tell you? You’ has lib see it, hasn’t you? Dem’s de free papers!” “Lor’! Now [ ’=pose; ‘cause yow owns yourself, you thinks you has got somefin great. Sho! yow won't Tink so when you fines you has got to keep yeurself for better ,for worser, for richer, for poorer, in healf an’ in s ness, now, I tell! yout It’s a ser'us: thing to have to s‘port yourself, an’ dat you'll fine, gal!” said old Cybete: “Ay, will you,” chimed in oli Sat- urn. “Sour grapes!” cried Venus, as she flung herself out of the kitchen and “Hi, honey. Mrs. €ourting Grebille done gib me all that great chist full o” i finery as used to ‘long to poor Luln— more clothes dan would las” me halt my life! So what I gwine do wid all dis money?” “Put it away and save: it, then, Ve ‘ the first fruits of your free ' ‘ent to overhaul Lulu’s chest and pre- sig pare some finery.. And that same: at- ternoon Venus blossomed out in her robes of oftice—a Dlack silk dress, 2 ™ little white muslim apron, a tiny lace eap perched upon the back of her head, and her front hair drawn out ond pulled until it was made to part over her forehead and lie down om each temple, like “Mammyselle Silly- stones,” for it was the highest ambi- tion of Venus to imitate and excel the toilettes of Mademoiselle Celestine. When, however, poor Venus first paraded her new style of dress among her fellow servants, her appearance, instead of elfeiting the burst of ad- miration she eonfidently expectea, provoked am explosion of laughter, ” which she immediately resented. As for the Freneb maid, she looked at Venus in her mew appare? with the same sort of amused curiosity with which she would have examined a monkey im full dress. Amd this Venus tcok for a compliment. ‘The family were anxiously awaiting news from the North. Mrs. Greville had constituted herself As- trea’s~ banker. And, to help pass away the tediousness ef the time, Mrs. Greville teok the whole party to New Orleans to spend the week. Astrea — ¢ advantage of their visit to proper and becoming outfit. = His One Desire “Young man,” inquired the waggish old codger, entering the store, “have you any applications for corns?” “Yeth, thir,” (To Be Continued.) corns myself, Just teauae ee drop in and tell you that if you have more applicatioms for corns than you can F supply, 1 have a few speeimens that L , am willing to dispose of for a reason- able consideration.’”—New York Werld. *,