‘ Th howl of wrath, death muffled, scarce is heard,

‘\

 

_.._

 

 

 

 

 

   
   
  

‘ wooden rocker, her wrinkled face turning gray

' charge which had come to him from Edwin

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

MARCH.

BY FRANK I. IMBRIE.

 

 

Hark! Eurus blows a piercing challenge note,
Leudly deflant, Borea’s bugles sound;
Charging, they wrestle in cyclonic strength,
While devastation marks the vantageground.
’Midst shivering steel and clashing bayonet's gleam
Swift through the ranks a meteor presence strides,
Striking the blast-forged chains from storm-vexed

guar ,
As murmuring treason waning power derides.

Shriek tempest-wild! thy clanging tocsin—peals,
Jar with the falling shackles, gleaming bright,
Where now thivictor-banners, storm afloat?
Where now t y sheeny robe of gem‘starred white?
This! treasured ermine~garb of royalty~
ow da pled, soiled, a motley aspect wears;
Uncres crag regechoes mutterings dire;
Dismantled cliff thy tattered pennon bears.

Ay, glower on that ill-omened shaft of power,
Sent by coy Phoebus from her cloud— irt home;

magnet“. now thy rage! Darst thou tjre u

“ 8 golden gauntlet, by her bright hand t own?

Fate-hapless monarch, seek thy tottering throne,
Stained thy escutcheon by Defeat’s chill breath;

by triumph—chamber is thy couch of death! ,

The Terrible Truth:

THE THORNHIIRRST MYSTERY.

BY MRS. JENNIE DAVIS BURTON,
AUTHOR or “STRANGELY wan,” “run FALSE
wmow,” “ADRIA, run ADOPTED,” “ co-

nAL AND RUBY,” arc, am, no. ‘

 

 

 

” CHAPTER v11.
FROM THE OLD LIFE TO THE NEW.

‘THE bright August days went swiftly at
Thornhurst. The month went out and Septem—
ber came in, and the time flew faster as the
date of parting came near.

The fervid August, heats were over on the

sandy flats of Cape Cod. Life there never
much changed all the summer through, and
Nora chafed under the monotony as she never
had done before. Before this she had been a
careless, joyous child, giving little of real car-
nest thought to her future, dreaming some
vague, misty dreams, indeed, all rose~tinged,
golden gloried, as the bright, blithe spirit
could conjure. She had been content rowing
her own little boat out upon the bay, singing
the simple songs she had learned at the top of
her clear young voice, tending bar flowers or
wandering the shore, and evading on every
possible occasion her share .of the household
duties prescribed by Hannah. Nora never
had taken kindly to domestic tasks. She
hated the sight of a needle and deliberately
walked over the broom when it was left in her
way as a test of her order. But all this was
changed of late. She lost her pleasure in the
old boisterous sports. She went quietly about
her tasks, fulfilling them in a most indifferent
way, it must be confessod. ‘

they had hoped might never fall. Nora was
lost to them—Nora, the bright little creature
who for fourteen years had been their great-
est joy. Nora was to be made a lady as her
mother had been; she would forget them with
the fine friends who would come to her—but
no! Nora was not ungrateful. There was
comfort in the thought that she would never
quite forget the faithful, humble old pair who
had loved her as their very own. It was a
sorrow. come upon them too deep for words
just at first, and when Nora came in as the
sun went down, she found them sitting to—
gether still.

The solemn stillness and their changed,
grave faces startled her. She met their eyes
turned to her with quick apprehension.

“ What is the matter, Hannah—is Jabez sick?
Has anything happened?”

Hannahvlooked at J abez; he made her a sign
to answer.

“Something has happened, Nora—some-
thing concerning you. You’re a-goin’ away
from us, deary. Read the letter, child; it’ll
tell you better’n I can.”

Hannah choked back a sob as she handed
over the letter and its incldsure. Nora,
startled and not yet comprehending, crossed
to the open doorway, the red glow .of the fad—
ing sunset lighting the slight shape and glori-
fying that silky «massgof floating hair. She
read the letter through first, then glanced at
the note addressed in her name—the name she
scarcely knew, which had a strangely unfa.
milfar sound as she repeated it—“ Miss Lenore
Carteret.” It was in substance not much dif-
ferent from the other, and transmitted her fa-
ther’s tender message. She stood there, watch-
ing the rosy light fade out of the sky, not
speaking and not moving until a tremulous
sigh from Hannah reached her car. She was
at her side in a moment, her arms about the
old woman’s neck, her freshlips pressed against
the withered cheek.

“ Dear old Hannah, darling mummy, you’ll
be sorry to have me go, I know. I’ve. been a
trouble to you; I’ve teased you and been bad
to you, I’m sorry, sorry, now, that I didn’t
try to do better, Hannah. You don’t blame
me for being glad of this, do you? I can’t
help it if it’s wrong, and I’ll always love you
and J abez just the same. It will be so splen-
did to go to school, to grow accomplished and
refined. There, don’t cry, nursie—don’t!”
Nora’s own tears were flowing, an odd com-
bination of happiness over the prospect open-
ing before her and of sympathy in the sorrow
of these old friends. Jabez put out his hand
to stroke the soft bright hair with his horny
palm, and darkness settled down over the
three. .

0n the morning of the tenth day after the.
another equipage drew up before the fisher-
man’s cottage, no less imposing in its magni-
ficence than one which had fairly dazzled
Nora’s eyes scarcely six weeks before. But
Nora was not dazzled now. She stood in the

 

The child was coming roun Hannah said.
She’d be a comfort and a blessin’ to them yet,

Jabez and her, in their old age. Not but Hannah had thought it best she should not go
Nora had proved herself a comfort and a into mourning for a sorrow which she scarcely
blessing to them thus far, but she had been recognized as belonging to her.
something of a thorn in the flesh as well—at- was dead, but the Colonel Vivian of her note
oncethe tribulation and the delight of their

lives.

(It was all changed, and Nora felt that shg

had grown old in this one August past. She
had lost something which had made her life
all joy and sunshine before; she had lost the
freshness of her unlimited faith in mankind.
Do not suppose that she was pining in Secret,
wearing her heart out because of Dare. He
had hurt her cruelly, he had struck home to
her sensitive heart the first keen pang it had
ever known, but she had seen him in his true
unworthy light, and she never could have
cared for him again, never, if she had even
known how much more real earnestnem had
been in his words to her than in the protesta-
tions she had heard him make as she stood con-
cealed in Miss Ferguson’s dressing-room at the
Brewster Hotel. She doubted if she had cared
for him very much after all, but he had hurt
her—~cruelly, willfully—all the same.

It was the very last day of August that Ja-
bez came home from the town with a lagging,
heavy step unlike himself, and a solemn coun-
tenance which amused all Hannah’s fears of
fever or kindred calamity, and sent her in
search of boneset and pennyroyal before he
was fairly in the house.

“Do you feel down like, J abez?” she queried,
anxiously. “ Be there something a—hammcrin’
in your head, or like a buzz-saw a—spinnin’?
Hain’t you dry and hot, and weak in your
legs, and marry some?”

Jabez shook his head dolorously, with p
glance at Nora. ‘

“ ’Tain’t anything of that sort, old woman.
’Tain’t much of anything but that I’m thun-
derin’ hungry and tired in the bargain. Here’s
the mag’zine for you, Nory; I reckon you’d
been hoppin’ cf I’d come without it.”

Nora took it, very tempting with its fresh
wrapper and uncut leaves and took herself
speedily away to one of her favorite outdoor
haunts. Then Jabez, vcry grave still, stopped
Hannah as she was bustling about making pre-
parations for the evening meal.

“ We’re a-goin’ to lose Nory, mother,” he
said. Hannah looked at him, startled, speech—
less. She had expected this once, thought it
to be inevitable. But 'so many years had gone
by with no .note of warning, she had let her-
self sink into a false security, thinking Nora
would never be claimed. She sat. down in the

as she waitedhis explanation.

Slowly Jabez brought a letter up from the
depths of. his capacious pocket. He unfolded
it with the great horny hands that trembled,
and looked helplessly across at Hannah, a
lump of which he was ashamed rising up in his
throat. ,

“‘ Read it for yourself; mebbe you’d better,”
and he passed it over. “ I spelled it out down
there to the office. Nory’s father is dead,
Hannah-died ’way off in furrin parts, and
she’sleft to a. friend 0’ his’n that’s comin’ for
her. Read it out loud of you kin; you’re
quicker to makeout words than I be, and
pearsto me I hain’t got quite all the sense of
it.” V‘ . _ ‘

She‘lifted the letter and read it in a voice

which was broken and uncertain. It was -

from Colonel Vivian, imparting the dying

Carteret, and announcing his intention of
coming for Nora soon. They might expect
him on the tenth of September, and a check
was inclosed to provide any immediate neces-
sities she might need for her journey. A
kind, considerate letter, alluding in a general
way to his plans for the girl. He would take
her for a short visit to Thornhurst, then she
was to be sent to, boarding-school for two
years; she was to be educated to the position
which was rightfully hers, and he would fill to
her the part of the father she had never
 There was also a little note inclosed
to her. . . . _

They  Still together after Hannah had

little porch, a slender figure in the soft, gray
traveling-dress she was to wear that day, for

dark, irregular structure, not large, with an
air of neglect‘and decay about it. The colonel’s
brews contracted as he followed the direction
of her gaze.

“ Not that, Nora. I would pull that old
rookery down fast enough if I had control of
it. Unfortunately it stands just outside the
line of my jurisdiction. That place is occupied
by a Mr. Walter Montrose, an Englishman by
birth and education, a Southerner by long re-
sidence, and not much credit either to England
or the South through such a representative.
It was one of the evil effects of the war to
drive him into our neighborhood here, as surly,
disagreeable a man as I ever care to meet.
There is my home and yours to be for the fu-
ture.”

They swept a curve and came into full view
of Thornburst, of the stately mansion gleaming
a fair sight in the afternoon sunlight, the wide
lawn stretching in front, the gardens melting
into orchards, the orchards into groves away
at the back. Nora clasped her hands and gazed
in speechless delight, and Colonel Vivian was
satisfied. A couple of masculine forms strolled
out from the shade of the aims as the carriage
{showed the winding drive which skirted the

wn.

“ Who were those?” asked Nora, quickly.

“ Those? The one to my right is my son,
the other a friend of his, Mr. Owen Dare.
Don’t {look so blank at the prospect of meeting
gentlemen, my dear. You’ll not be inflicted
with their society very long, as they leave to-
gether for Europe tomorrow. He sprung from
the carriage as it drew up at the door, handing
her out with courtly gallantry.

“ Once more welcome to Thornhurst, my
child. See, that is my housekeeper at the head
of the steps. My ward, Miss Carteret, of Whom
I told you, Mrs. Ford. Miss Cartel-ct will pre-
fer being shown to her own room at once.
Try to get a good long rest before dinner, my
dear.” ""

The two young men coming leisurely up had
but an imperfect glimpse of the little gray-clad
figure as it vanished within doors.

“ Hopes laid waste,” said Vane, in mock re—
signation. “Ah, well! we can exist till din-
ner, I daresay.”

For reasons of his own, Colonel Vivian had
given only the briefest explanation of his sud-
den journey. Vane had remarked his untime-
ly absence 9. little wonderingly.

“ I shouldn’t have supposed the colonel
would have put himself willingly out of the
way up to the very eve of our departure,” he
had said to Dare. “ This ward business might
have waited for all I can see. However, it’s
probable the colonel knows what he is about. ”

The colonel did know what he Was about,
and it was not his one to give Vane cause for
a suspicion yet.

There was a tap at Nora’s door, followed by
the entrance of a rosy~cheeked, apple-faced
girl, possibly two years her senior, just as the
dressing-bell clanged through the still, house.

“ I’m Martha, the parlor-maid, if you please,
Miss Cartoret, and the colonel says I’m to wait

 

Her father

of ten days ago occupied his place in her
thoughts.

She watched the erect, soldier-1y form as , be
advanced toward her, her heart fluttering, her
breath short, but a moment later she laid. her
hand in his and looked up into the grand, kind-
ly, rugged old face with frank, fearless brown
eyes, quite composed and quite ladylike not~
withstanding the fourteen years of her life
passed upon this dreary, barren coast in care
of a rude fisherman and his wife. ’-

Colonel Vivian, looking keenly at bar fro
beneath his shaggy, snow—white brows, noting
her unaffected grace and simple assurance of
I manner, decided that she was a worthy daugh-
ter of his friend, Edwin Carteret.

There was not much to be said, now that the
colonel had come. Nora’s one little trunk was
packed and Waiting; her hat, with its floating
vail like silver mist, lay upon the table with
the little dark gloves beside it. There was
nothing more but to say good-by to the couple
who had been to her the only parents she had
ever known.

Colonel Vivian looked at his watch, told
Nora if she did not detain him above ten min-
utes they would reach Brewster to catch the
noon train, and with a few words to J abez and
Hannah strolled down to the shore. He had
all of a man’s horror of scenes, and did not
come back until the last moment, when Nora
came out to the carriage clinging fast to the
hand of her old nurse, choking back a sob with
the stern determination that she would not cry,
and breaking down at the very last. Her new
guardian hurried her into the carriage at that,
the last good—by was waved, and they rolled
away smoothly over the sands of the shore.

demonstrative. She shed some quiet tears be-
hind the misty silver vail, thinking of the sad
house and mourning hearts she had left, but
youth is never very long depressed. Her tears
soon ceased to flow, and she glanced timidly at
her guardian, sitting, a straight, commanding
figure, at her side. Very wisely he had left
herto herself at first. Afterward during their
journey he devoted himself gradually to draw—
ing her out, studying her nature, enjoying her
surprise and delight over the novelties of travel
and the sights which were commonplace to
him.
They went by way of New York, stepping
'over a day and a night in the great metropolis.
Colonel Vivian had a niece there, a handsome,
cultivated woman and a recognized leader of
fashion, doomed to seclusion this season by a
death in her husband’s family. This lady was
drawn into immediate service bythe colonel.
Nora must have numerous expensive additions
to her outfit. Wasn’t there some place where
woman’s gear was turned out ready—made, and
couldn’t she just take the responsibility into
her own hands of selecting such things as might
be needed? Mrs. Grahame at first demurred.
It was a task which would require, a week’s
time to properly execute, but yielded after a
little urging and a small blast from the irate
colonel,_“just to please her dear uncle,” and
compressed the week’s work into one long fore-
noon. .

On the fourth day, the afternoon train mmb—
ling into Thornhurst station, deposited them,
two weary, dusty travelers. The home car-
riage was there awaiting them, a wide, luxu—
rious vehicle with stately steeds and silver
trappings, but Nora had grown accustomed to
fine things by this, and sunk back complacently
amid the soft crimson cushions.

“This is Thornhurst proper, my dear,” said
Colonel Vivian, as the carriage turned aside
from the highway. “Yonder is the house——
you can scarcely seeit yet. Welcome home to
Thornhurst, Lenore.” .
N ora roused herself, looking about with a
vivid interest in the surroundings of this new
home. ‘

“ Is that the mansion, Colonel Vivian?”
There was an accent of disappointment in her
tone. She saw the building quite plainly, a

Impulsive as her nature was, Nora was not ‘

on you while you’re here. You’re to be made
to look your handsomest to-night, if you please,
Miss, and leave everything to me. You need-
n’t be afraid; I’m used to waiting on the ladies
when they’re here. Miss, Ferguson would as
soon have me. as her own maid, any time.
Have you the key to your trunk, Miss-this
one !” singling the larger with a glance, the
one in which all the finery procured in New
York was stored. \

Nora produced the key, asking, indifferently:

“ Miss Ferguson? Is she here now?” ‘

“ Oh, dear, no, and the more thanks! Gone
close upon three weeks ago. A precious one
she is to wait on—” and there Martha went
down upon her knees and into the contents of
the trunk.

“ Will I do?” Nora asked, shyly, as she float-
ed down where her guardian awaited her at
the foot of the stairs, half an hour later. ‘

“ Couldn’t be better,” he assured her, with
an approving glance of his keen eyes, and on
his arm she floated further into the drawing—
room, and the presence of the two young gentle-
men waiting there. She was all in white, with
blue ribbons in her hair, but the dress was the
finest of India muslins, embroidered and ruf—
fled, the ribbons the very best gros grain.

fi‘ Miss Carteret, Mr. Vane Vivian, my only
son. Mr. Dare, my ward, Miss Carteret."
There was a malicious gleam in Nora’s eyes,
as she observed the surprise of both, the dis—
concerted air, quickly suppressed, of one.
They acknowledged the introduction in due
form, Vane with that amused, provoking smile,
telegraphing a glance at Dare behind the colo-
nel’s unsuspicious back. Nora was thoroughly
self-possessed. She chatted with her guardian
all through the dinner hour, responded freely
to Vane, passing a casual remark once or twice
with Dare, but never once betraying the slight-
est previous knowledge of either. '

“ A thorough-bred, if ever I saw one,”
thought Vane, with a thrill of dawning admin
ation. “ Turning the tables on Dare with a
vengeance, too; a fair return for his treatment
of her. Odd that she should be the colonel’s

ward.” .
Dare, amazed and bewildered at first, soon
understood the case better. He recalled Han-

nah’s story—her assertion, which had passed
for little or nothing with him then, that Nora
came of a higher degree. r

How fair she looked, how sweet, how tan-
talizing in her utter mdiflerence, admirably
assumed, as he felt it must be. He was not
giving her credit for having penetrated to his
depth, or overcoming her own folly. Already
the security of possession had taken the edge off
Dare’s pamion for the glowing Southern beauty,
for‘whom he had burst all bounds of prudence.
He turned even more than his old admiration
and recognition ofglorious pomibilities to this
fair, childlike vision.

“ How you have taken me by surprise,
Nora,” he found an occasion to whisper, just
before they partedthat night. . “ Is it possible
that late prosperity has obliterated your recol-
lection of old friends? I can scarcely recon-
cile the Miss Carteret of this evening with my
little Nora of the coast.”

“ One and the same person nevertheless, Mr.
Dare, but never ‘ your little Nora,’ let me ob—
serve.) And I should not suppose you would
have any difficulty in reconciling the two. A
creature of oddities, freckles and red hair is not
very apt to change personality all in a twink-
ling.” ,
“The deuce!” thought Dare, as she walked
away. “*I was right in my conjecture, then.
It was she who occupied the dressing-room
that day. ” ,

“ A charming little creature, don’t you agree
with me, Vane?” asked the colonel, after she
had taken leave of them for the night.
Whatever Vane’s private opinion may have
been, it was no habit of his to commit himself
very definitely.

“ Well, now,that might be a little too sweep—
ing an assertion,” he answered, lazily. “ Modi-
fied a trifle in style and without that flaming
mane, Miss Carteret would be rather tolerable,
I fancy. Red hair always was my pet aver-
sion, you know.” ,

 

 

mead to read. The blow had fallen which,

Unlucky speech! How far from uttering it
would Vane have been had he known that
Nora, lingering on the wide stairway, had
heard the question and stooped low, waiting to
catch his answer. She waited for nothing
more, but went on to her room, closing the door
with unwonted vehemence after her.

“ He, too,” she said, bitterly. “And I was
really almost liking him.”

The morrow broke the little household band.
The great house was very still after the two
young men were gone. A gloom seemed to
rest upon it, in spite of the lovely September
weather, of the rich harvests being gathered
in, of the mellowing fruit, and ripening
grapes. and lack'of all apparent care to weigh
upon its master—~a gloom which deepened af-
ter a little time when Nora too was gone.

 

CHAPTER VIII.
A SLIGHT ACCIDENT.

OCTOBER had dropped upon Thornhurst when
we see it again. The harvests were all in, the
fruit all gathered from the orchards, except
here and there where some frost—defying speci-
mens clung to the boughs, from which the
leaves were fast dropping in red and yellow
drifts soon to turn sore and be scattered to the
four Winds, the vineyard was a brown blot
against the hillside, with nothing left to indi—
cate the purple wealth which had loaded it
down so short a time before. Dablias lifted
their blasted heads in the Thornhurst gardens,
and every wind sent the leaves flying from
the line of elms over the whole wide lawn.

Thornhurst has grown two years older since
we saw it last. The mansion is open after be-
ing closed ha]! through the summer time.
Colonel Vivian is but barely home again, with
his ward and a visitor, in the house which has
been orderly and still for two dragging years.
The colonel had gone for Nora when the school
term closed, late in June, and they had passed
the summer together among the mountains and
at the sea-shore, with a flying trip to Niagara
and another up the Hudson, but everywhere
carefully eschewing the resorts of fashion and
the votaries thronging them until at last they
took Newport in their way, according to a pre—
vious agreement of the colonel, and brought
back along to Thornhurst Mrs. Sholto Norton
Hayes.

Nora could not quite let the summer slip by
without paying a visit to the little cottage and
her old friends upon the coast. She went there
from N epr’rt, alone at her own request. She
left the train at Brewster, and walked across
the sands to the little brown cottage which was
hallowed in her thoughts yet as “ home.” So
little change was apparent there it might have
been no longer ago than yesterday she had
gone away. , The boat she had so often rowed
was rocking by its stake at the. beach.“ Her
rosebush was carefully tended; it had put out
a longer growth, and the rough trellis J abez
had made for her showed-signs of age, propped
up on either side to enable it to withstand the
sea-breezes. Hannah sat in the wooden rock—
er as the slight figure grown taller came in
through the open door—sat and looked at her

for one second, asshe might have looked at any
stranger, then, with her hand upon the chair,
she rose up trembling, as two soft arms circled
her neck, two fresh lips were pressed to her
withered old cheek.

“ N 0W Is it my own little Nora again?”
And that first incredulouscry expressed the

found it, in the week she staid. The little
brown house was just the same, but it was
no longer home. The snows may have lain a
little thicker on the two old heads, but a con-

ling who had grown up beneath their care. It
was not that they had changed. Nora had
grown away from them, separated by more
than the absence of two years.

she have found even the counterfeit of content
in this humble life. Her guardian came for
her when the week was ended, and going with-
out regret, J abez and Hannah felt that at no
time, in all the two years, had she been further
from them than in this week past. It had
been no fault of Nora’s throughout. She had
been as affectionate as ever before, she had
tried to appear unchanged, and it was no fault
ofgtheirs that the romping, willful child they had
loved was lost to them in this graceful girl,
educated and refined, a lady now of whom
they stood almost in awe. Nora, truly, but
never again their Nora.

The three were alone at Thornhurst, Colonel
Vivian; Nora, and Mrs. Sholto Norton Hayes.
The latter had been brought along to play pro~
priety for ,a few .dayp’ time to the colonel’s
ward. Mr. Vane Vivian and his companion
Owen Dare were expected home daily now.
Colonel Vivian’s pride was self-centered, and
it would have seemed like no home-coming had
he received his son and heir any Where except
at Thornhurst. The whole party would leave
very soon afterward. The colonel bad accept-
ed the urgent invitation of his niece, Mrs.
Grahame, in behalf of himself and Nora, who
was to be brought out into metropolitan society
early in the season through that lady’s kind-
ness. The young gentlemen would take apart-
ments within easy distance, and they would
return Willi accelerations to their number for
the Christmas holidays at Thornhurst.

It was four days after their arrival that the
returned travelers were welcomed home. Nora.
was in the drawing-room, while Mrs. Sholto
Hayes was not more than half through with
the mysteries of her afternoon toilet, all alone,
when the faint fragrance of a segar penetrated
to her, and a minute later one of the masculine
forms she had supposed safely stowed away
above stairs, stepped in through an open win—
dow, humming in an undertone, but stopping
short at the sight of her.

“ Really, I beg pardon, but—had I not
ought to know that face? Surely this is Miss
Carteret, ,my father's ward. I had really
overlooked the probability of seeing you here.

shake hands and make friends, and give me
welcome?” '

He stood before her, changed by these two
years, grown older, matured in face and
figure, the handsomest man she had ever seen.
The smooth dark face was graced by a mus-
tache now, the rich glow had faded from the

_pale olive skin, the eyes seemed larger, deeper,

darker than she remembered them, and Nora
could not know that this interesting pallor and
somewhat hollow eyes were the results of con—
stant dissipation of the most reckless kind. He
had forgotten her very existence—he might as
well have said it in plain words as in that dis-
guise. She understood it, and a little bit-
terness she had cherished against him since
their last meeting found expression.

She gave her hand in- the briefest of touches,
and drew back a step to the window, through
which he had passed.

“ Of course you are welcome, Mr. Vivian.
The colonel and Mrs. Hayes have talked of
nothing but your coming fer the last four
day s. For myself”—with a half pause, and a
saucy upward glance—I confess to a disap-

 

pointment.

I had not expected to be quite

real change which had taken place, as Nora-

straint had come between them, and the nurse- :

She had,
found her own sphere, and never again could.

Now that I havo seen you, aren’t you going to

 

forgotten. Red hair being an especial aver—
sion of yours, I thought my ‘flaming mane’
would have served to keep you in some sort of
recollection, though not a flattering one.”

“ Not like red hairl—well, as a general thing,
no! But I hope I was never guilty of the
monstrosity of such a hint in regard to your
hair, Miss Carteret. I’m Willing to avow my
mistake and it an exception, if I were. Red
is an expressive color you know, Miss Carteret;
its language is love. Pray don’t make me
miserable, and it emblematic of a different
sentiment in our case.”

Nora resented the careless, familiar addréss,
just the same he had used toward her two
years ago upon the coast, and she a young
lady now of his own standing, lacking his
prospects of fortune it is true, but knowing
herself asclever and as pretty as girls of her
age brought up in the circumstances she had
but lately found were apt to be. .

“I prefer honest hate to the pretension of
love, at any time, Mr. Vivian—not that either
is to be apprehended in our case of course.”
She flushed quickly in expectation of the
amused smile she remembered of old, but the
face looking down upon her was very grave—
so grave that she did not quite trust to it.

“Andmeantime, that is meant as a warn-
ing to me. I thank you for that much, at
least, Miss Carteret, and devoutly echo your
wish that neither extremity need apply to us.”

It was on her tongue‘s end to correct him;
she had not wished it, but checked herself just

in time, and wondered if he had purposely 

made his mistake.

“ Dare’s little friend has improved, that’s a
fact,” Vane was thinking, lazily; “but she
seems afflicted with the same infirmity of dis-
position still which he attributed to her then.
‘ A little termagant ’ be dubbed her, I remem-
her.”

She certainly had never looked fairer than
as she stood there, the slender, lithe form out
against the glowing October tints without, the

’ fair, sweet face no longer marred by tan and
freckles and exposure to all sorts of weather, ’

the “ flaming mane ” not loosely flowing now,
but banded in a waving chignon on the very
top of the graceful head. She was in a car-
riage—dress of rich blue, a color and tint ex-
quisitely suited (sober, and she held a pork—pie
hat with blue plume and a pair of bufl’ driving-
gloves in her hand. She settled the former
jauntily upon her chignon, and began to draw
on the latter; as a rustle in the far distance
heralded the approach of Mrs. Hayes.

“You came in here for coolness and soli-
tude, I presume, Mr. Vivian, and you shall be
left to enjoyment of the same very soon. I
am going to drive Mrs. Hayes through some
of the lovely lanes and byways I have been
racing through these four days past.”

“ And I really expect nothing better than a
broken neck or limb, Miss Carteret is so rc-
markably reckless in whatever she does. I
positively almost regret having promised to go
at all.” Mrs. Hayes herself spoke from the
doorway languidly, as though the prospect of
broken neck or limbs. were nothing compared
with the exertion of speaking at all. She had
passed greetings with Vane and his friend up-
on their arrival, having lingered below in her
most charming morning neglige for the express

purpose.

“Really, I should like nothing better than
to calm your apprehensions by relieving Miss
Carteret if she would permit, only I am scarce-
ly in proper trim. If I could trust you ladies
to overlook the fact and take me as I am—"

“ Don’t think of such a thing! I would not
permit you or any one—unless it were the
colonel himself—to take my dainty Frisk and
Flight in hand. New-comers to the stable
since you were here, Mr. Vivian, that my
guardian has devoted to my exclusive use.
Mrs.“Hayes need not have the slightest fear;
if I am remarkably reckless in all I do, I am
also remarkably correct.”

Miss Carteret’s assertion was in imminent
danger of being disproved before the drive
was over. She had taken the sweep of the
carriage-road, handling the ribbons in an ap-
proved style to elicit the admiration of the
colonel, himself a skilled horseman and no less
skillful driver, as he stood watching; so out of
sight through the long avenue leading to the
gates. But oh, what an exhilarating breeze it
was sweeping up from the valley! How the
maple trees hung out their crimson~and-gold
banners, glistening under the afternoon sun;
how the woods rustled and Whispered in all the
changing tints which the first few frosts of
autumn bring! Like any ardent lover of na-
ture and novice in the art of driving, Nora’s
vigilance very soon relaxed. The brown eyes
wandered away more frequently from the
crisping turf of the lane under the feet of
Frisk and Flight, eliciting weary monosylla-
bles- of assent from Mrs. Sholto Hayes through
her own rapturous delight.

But from the poetry to the reality of au-
tumn influences came the swift transition. A
sharp, dashing rain of a week before had
washed a rut into a. gulley, and Nora’s un-
heeding eyes just then were watching a flock
of migrating birds that sailed screaming over
their heads. There was a great jolt, a top—
pling of the little basket carriage sideways,
and Nora came back to a sudden sense of her
duty, bracing herself and drawing the lines
tight in upon the willing ponies. All might
have gone well even then but for Mrs. Sholto
Norton Hayes.
customary languor, went through the invari-
able programme followed by Weak-nerved per-
sons under similar circumstances—screamed
shrilly and caught at the reins.

“Sit still,” cried Nora to her. “Hold fast
to the seat and don’t dare think of jumping!”

But the other’s movement had turned the
ponies’ heads, and in a moment more one
wheel lay in the rut, and the carriage went
down, tumbling Mrs. Sholto Hayes uncere
moniously to the ground, but most fortunately
Frisk and Flight stood still at their mistress’
word. '

“You are not hurt in the least, Mrs.
Hayes,” said Nora, decidedly. “Do get up,
please, and go to the house we see yonder for
assistance. There, my beauties! you did nobly,
but I am afraid to leave you with that wreck
at your heels.”

Mrs. Hayes, however, sat upon the ground,
sigbing dolorously, declaring herself too faint
and crushed to move. Nora felt very much
like flying at her, giving her a shaking and
setting her upon her feet, but Was proceeding
to tie her docile charges to the fence, when a
young lady emerged from the cedar grove at
a little distance and approached them. ‘

“Is any one injured?” she asked—“this
lady?”

“Is not hurt in, the least,” returned Nora,
shortly. “Mrs. Hayes, if you only will get
up, you may discover the fact for yourself.
The question‘s, how is this mishap to be reme:
died?”

“ If you ladies will come with me—the
horses may be left now, I think—my father
and a man upon the place will see What can
be done. It is but a little distance there.”

She pointed to the house to which Nora had

 

 

 

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