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“Papa, mamma, what do you think this is ?”

“Tt looks like a check,” said her father.

“Tt is, payable to Miss Alice Carlton for ten thou-
sand dollars—merely for dresses now. When Mrs.
Alice Burnell gets checks, the amount will be
doubled.”

“And howsoon will our Alice bear that name ?”
asked her wily father.

“In two weeksfrom/ to-day. We are to be mar-
ried in the Morning, dine at his Fifth Avenue
house, and saik for Europe inthe afternoon on a
Cunard steamery” '

*‘Good!” cried her father. ‘While you are absent
he is going to erectand furnish the finest country
house in the State.’ Ionly wish I had the contracs
to build it. I’d make a decent,fortune on the job.”

“You shall have it.) papa. He will notrefuse me
anything. To-morrow lt must go shopping, and for
two weeks now we'll have the dressmakers and
milliners busy. He isto buy my jewelry himself.”

“Then you restiéasy as to 7(s value. He is as gen-
erous as he is wéalthy;’ said Mr. Carlton. “Are
you not satisfied now that we knew what we were
about in giving you sucha perfect education, and
then throwing youinthe way ofthis old, but still
hale and hearty widower, with millions at his com-
mand ?”

“Yes, papa—my heart rebelled at first, but it,does
not now! Iseemy way paved with gold through
life, my sky all aglow with diamonds,* But good-
night. Iwantto go and dream of dresses. Ill be
the queen of fashion now. I’ll make my old asso-
ciates wild with envy!”

And the gay—shall I call her heartless—girl turn-

'. ed toward her own chamber.

CHAPTER VY.

Harry Hotspur Moray did not rise early the next
day. The head which he had abused by strong
drink the night before; now ached terribly, and his
mind was still worried and confused as he thought
over the events which had occurred. The more he
thought, the more he felt that he loved Alice Carl-
ton in spite Of-her treachery to him. His nature
was strong, even as it was wild and_reckless. He
conld not, wouldnot give her up! He weuld see
her again, plead with her, and then if she persisted
in her course he would choose his, lay out his eam-
paign, declare war, and fight it out if it took him
all ‘the year round” on one line.

He would see her alone, not at her own house,
but where he could plead his cause with no unfav-
orable surroundings.

So when he rose, he wrote a note to Alice, in
which he apologized‘ humbly for his conduct the
night before, said the intensity of his love drove
him literally to madness, and begged her for the
sake of which had.been between them, to grant him
one short interview—it could take place walking on
tho open street, by the fountain at Union Square,
anywhere that she would appoint. This note he
sent by the hand of his. younger brother, telling
him to be sure it reached the hand of Alice Carlton
only, and to get an answer,

Phen he took his: coffee, went to a barber, got
shayed and had his head shampooed until he felt
somewhat better, and returning home waited for
his. answer.

licame at last, and was cold as an iceberg,
though the coquette did not utterly deny his prayer.
Womanlike she wanted to punish him more by an
interview than by arefusual. Her note was'couch-
ed.in these words:

“Mr. MorkAy: Your apoiogy for your inexcusable conduct: is
received: To accord you forgiveness; or to say that we can ever
meet again as friends, is beyond my power. You attempted to
murder my betrothed over, in my presence. Through Provi-
dence and his own strength and bravery you failed. He now
carries the weapon with whith you would have slain him for
his own defense. I ought, never to see orspeak to you, but you
seem so penitent that I willacecord to youa few minutes’ time in
an interview at the place mentioned in Union Square, when. I
come up from the Park National Bank at half-past two in the
afternoon, where I must first go to cash a check of ten thousand
dollars which he gaye me last night to do a little shopping with
in anticipation of our early marriage. Iam &¢., &c.,

\ “ALICE CARLTON,”

EByery word of this note went like a keen, merci-
less knife into the heart of young Moray. It was
written fora purpose, and well did it effect it.

“Heaven and earth! must I bear this!” he cried,
and forgetting the presence of his brother he tore
the note to atoms, and stamped it under his feet.
The brother, who loved him dearly, wondered at
this, for Alice Carlton had been very kind and gen-
tle when she spoke to him, and he knew nothing of

the new trouble between them.

“Tilexplain_all this. by-and-by, dear Charles,”
said Harry. “Do not wonder at my vexation. That
gtrl whom I loye better than life, is, I fear, trifling
with a love which deseryes better treatment.”

“Dear brother, lam ‘very sorry for you. If ever
I can help you, you know I will.”

“Yes. yes, Charley, but. youcan do nothing now.
Teere, me fora while and will ‘be calm and all
right.

The brother left the chamber, and then Harry
Moray stooped down and picked up every scattered
piece of that heartless, eruel note. Carefully he
laid them away in a drawer of his bureau, for what
purpose we cannot say. Weonly know he did so.

Mhen he dressed very carefully, looked at his
watch, and saw that. he had yet over two hours to’
spare before the time set by Alice Carlton for the
interview.

Hetook a close carriage from the nearest hack

, stand, and bade the driver drive hiny down to Rem-
ington & Sons, on Broadway near Duane.

Going
in he said to the first clerk he met:

“Sir, Lwant arevyolyer whiclil ean always carry
about me, and which you will warrant shall never
miss fire. Tam going to travel, and may be placed
in danger where such a weapon will be of inyalu-
able service to me.”

The clerk with promptitude exhibited a good-
sized pocket revolver, with a central fire-cartridge,
whieh he assured him would never miss fire, and
would earry death at every shot, if properly aimed,
for fifty yards at least, and probably at one hun-
dred paces, or even more.

“Phat suits me. I will take itand three hundred
eartridges, for I want to practice with it until I can
také a cat’s eye outas far as I can see it,” said Mo-
ray.

Tho elerk showed him howto load and clean it,
then loaded it carefully, put up the cartridges, and
received his pay. Harry now went out, paid off his
earriage, and walked up Broadway. He liadthe
time to spare, and he stopped in at Ottignon’s shoot-
ing gallery to try his new weapon and get his hand

in.

He fired ten or twelve shots, astonishing himself
by the accuracy of his aim, and was well pleased
with the great force of the weapon.

After this trial he looked at his watch and saw
that to be punctual to the appointment, hé must
take a stage and go up at onee. In twenty minutes
he left the stageand entered Union Square on the
westside. Going directly to the fountain-he found
avacant bench and took.it.. The time was’exactly
half-past two by his Benedict time-keeper. He had
but one minute to wait.. Atthe end of thattime he
saw, Alice Carlton coming toward him. -He rose
from his seat as she approached. ‘

“Keep ‘your seat, Harry,” she said, coolly. “I
have but a few minutes to spare. Mr. Burnell’s
earriage, which he has placed. at. my service, waits
forme in front of Bigot’s on Fourteenth street, and
I must not delay, for [havea great deal of shop-
ping to do.”

“T will not detain you long,” he said. “Please sit
down, so we can speak low and not be overheard.’

She sat down at the other end of the bench, and
carelessly said she did not care who heard what she
had to say.

“Alice,” he said, and his tone was low but oh, how
solemn, “haye you -really made up your mind to
east me off and to sacrifice yourself to that old
wretch ?”

“Mr. Moray, this language is unpardonable. I
came to speak kindly with you, to urge you into
better reason, but if [am to hear my betrothed in-
sulted by such epithets, this interview must end at
onee.

“Let it end!” he cried, bitterly. “But mark me,
false woman, I will murder him at the altar as sure
as there is a God in heaven!”

“At least wait untilthe words are spoken which
make me his wife!” was the calm reply.

(TO BE CONTINUED.)

ennai

BETWEEN

TWO LOVES.

By BERTHA M,. CLAY,

Arathor of “A BITTER ATONEMENT;”

“THROWN ON THE WORLD.” PUB-
‘ LISHED’ IN BOOK FORM, BY G. W.
. GARLETON & CO. PRICE, 81.50.

 

{Between Two Loves” was commenced in No, 6. Back Nos.
ean be obtained of any News Agent in the United States, |

CHAPTER XL.
A HOUSEKEEPER WANTED,

Daisy had a safe journey. She had been very
wise in one thing; she had not incumbered herself
with luggage. She had plenty of money, and it
seemed to her that it would be easier to purchase
what she required, that is, if she did require any-
thing, than to incumber herself with boxes. She
had but a faint idea of whatend or aim she pro-
posed to herself in going to England, except that
she wished to find her husband, and find out what
the mystery of his life was.

Daisy was a woman of purpdse: she Had brooded
solong over her thoughts that she seemed to her-
self to be all thought. The outer world was gen-
erally quite forgotten. She had no idea what a fair
and attractive picture she made, as she sat with a
far-off gaze in her beautiful eyes, as indifferent to

quite mechanically ; she asked few. questions, spoke
few words. She looked almost like a woman whose
heart and soul had traveled before her, and whose
body was trying to overtake them. She reached
London at night, and slept at the hotel nearest the
station—slept well and soundly, for Daisy, as a
rule, had almost perfect health; one partof her
anxiety was over, she,had reached London safely,
and it seemed to her that the one-half of her er-
rand was acéomplished.

Then, when morning came@, Daisy woke strong
and resolute, ready to begin her task at once. | Bhe
took her breakfast, then dressed herself plainly in
blaek, hiding the fair freshness.ofheér face with a
vail, and started\forghe Messrs. Cooper.

Daisy had never known much of liféin London.
She was quite ignorant; and, in common with
many country people, She imagined Thavies Inn to
be a large hotel; it must be a/ respectable one, she
thought, if lawyers like the Messrs. Cooper lived
thére.~ Daisy walked from the hotel tothe nearest
cab stand, and looked withawe at the dignified
gentleman who answered to the name of cabby.

“Where to, miss?” asked that mighty official,
touching his hat,

. Daisy raised her sweet, sad, and wet eyes to his
ace,

“Do you
asked.

A broad grin was the first reply, then a chuckle;
after that the man askedif he might make bold
enough to inquirewhom she wanted there ;and Daisy
toldhim. Then he entered into an explanation,
and told her Thavies Inn was nota hotel, buta
bloek of buildings chiefly .used by’ professional
men. ;

“It is strange,” said Daisy, “that it should be
called an inn!”

It would. have..been stranger stillif, after that,
Daisy. had not been ayictim. The cabman evidently
thought such prey must have been sent for a law-
ful purpose, and he smiled benignly as he asked
exactly five times the fare. Perhaps his conscience
—always provided that cabmen have a conscience—
was touched when Daisy unhesitatingly placed the
fare in his," hands and thanked him for his kind-
ness. .He even volunteered then to find out at what
number Messrs. Cooper were tobe found. Hecame
back in a few minutes,

“It is all right, miss,’ he said; “you will find them
at Nos.3 and 4.” He looked after the tall, slender
figure. “Ihave not seen a prettier girl than that
for many long days,’? he mused as he.drove ajvay.

Nos.3 and 4 was atall, dark-looking house. Daisy,

with her memory of the far-off vine-covered hills,
wondered how any one could live there. The noise
bewildered her—the gloom distracted her—the win-
dows seemed all alike, with wire/ blinds, each one
bearing a name, Shetook courageatlast, and, look-
ing at the doorpost, saw the name of Messrs. Coop-
er, No.3. Then she was atthe right place, after all.
Then, for the first time, it occurred to Daisy, what
was she.to say when she stood inthe presence of
Messrs. Cooper?. What could she say? She had
hardly taken that awkward preliminary into con-
sideration. ‘She must ask for Mr. Clifton’s address,
of course. She must say that, wishing to see him,
and knowing they were his/solicitors, she had in-
quired, Daisy- took heart., Butit seemed to her-a
strange place; the floor was covered with a cocoanut
matting; she saw steep staircases, and people
seemed to pass up and down incessantly. At length
she. asked a kindly-looking elderly man to show
her Messrs. Cooper’s rooms.
“They have the/whole of the first floor,” he re-
plied; “the first and second rooms are oecupied by
their clerks; the gentlemen of the firm have the in-
ner room.”

Dae knocked, and a sing-song voice bade her
enter,

“TL want to see Mr. Cooper.” said Daisy, gently.
“Which ofthem? Mr. Paul is here—Mr. John sel-
dom comes.”

“Mr. Paul will do,” said Daisy, so timidly that the
clerk said to himself at once that she was certainly
not a profitable client—they used quite another tone
of voice; probably some one begging for charitable
purposes; he shou!d be in sore disgrace if she were
admitted,

“I beg your pardon, miss,” he said, “but Mr,
Cooma himself is engaged. Can I take the mes-
sage

Daisy thought deeply for a minute, What could it
matter?—she had no desire to see Mr. Paul Cooper;
she only wanted her husband’s address—the clerk
was quite as likely to have it.

“You can do quite as well,’ she said, “Iayvant to
know Mr. Clifton’s address.” :

“Mr. Clifton?’ repeated the clerk; “I do not re-
pene the name. Is he employed here, or is
1e ?

Daisy interrupted him. cop
‘ No,” sae replied, “Messrs. Cooper are his solici-
tors.’

“They are solicitors for a great many people,” re-
plied the clerk, gravely, “but I doubt if they know
the address of.one-half of their clients.” :

‘But this is different,” said Daisy, eagefly} ‘Mr:
Clifton is not @ client in that sense of the words q
least I think not; £ have never heard him spea at
business, but MesarsPooped $ afrair
—so he told me,” ; Pan
_“Our firm are agents for many old courtly fami-
lies,” said the clerk; “they are solicitors of long
standing, but Freally do not remémpber that name.”
“Tam sure that Tam right,” said Daisy. “I have
the address—Messrs. Cooper, Thayies’ Inn. All let-
ters are sent there.”

The clerk looked puzzled.

“TL have a good memory,’ he said, “and really the
name is strange to me.” mee c Bastin.”
“Will you speak to Mr. Cooper,” Said Daisy: “T
will wait.” ’

The clerk bowed, placed ‘a. chair, anid. retired.
Daisy sat down. Nearly.an hour passed before
Daisy was abletosee Mr. Cooper. Then she Was
shown into asmall room, where an elderly gentle-
man sat before a large table, that was covered with
papers. He looked up in surprise as this fair,
sweet-faced woman stood before him. .

He waited for Daisy to speak. She asked the same
question:

i “W ould he be pleased to give her Mr. Clifton’s ad-
dress ??

He referred to a ledger that lay near him.
“Clifton!” he repeated, slowly. “We have mot
such a name on our books.”
But Daisy persisted.

“IT assure you,” she said, “that you have; you
have the charge of_ his affairs; he told meso, and
his ate are sent here, I know; I have sent some
myself.”

It did not occur to Mr. Cooper just at that mo-
ment that Sir Clinton Adair had received. several
letters addressed to Mr. Clifton; even had he re-
membered the fact, the astute lawyer would not
have owned it; but he did not remember it, and
stoutly denied that the name of Clifton was known
in the offices.

“You must be mistaken,” -he said to Daisy.

“How can I be mistaken, when he is——” my own
husband,” she was about toadd, but she checked
herself; better perhaps not to say that. There was
evidently amystery, or why did the lawyer not re-
cognize the name ?

Clifton!” repeated Mr. Cooper; “the name seems
in some way familiar to me, but we certainly do no
business for any one who bears.it.”

Suddenly it occurred to Daisy that it,.was just
possible her husband had assumed the name. She
had no reason for thinking.so, yet it must be.the
ease. This was assuredly the office, and if not
known by chat name he must be by some other.
Why did people hide their names? As arule it was
because they desired to hide themselves,

_ Had she discovered the mystery,? had she solyed
it? Was this the cause of his brooding in silence,
of his constant thought, of his isolation? Was this
the reason that he refused to know_ people, and
preferred the solitude of the ‘hills? He had done
some wrong for which he could be punished? Ah!
Heaven forbid, ifthat be the case, that she should
be the one. to betray him—Heaven forbid! Daisy’s
heart beat fast; she said to herself that she was on
the brink of a discovery at last. This was the mys-
tery,and no word of hers should betray him—not
one single word!

“Will you give me some particulars?” said Mr.
Cooper; “perhaps I may be able to help you.”

But Daisy drew back with. marked hesitation, she
thought, to herself, she had better say no more, or;
unwittingly, she might betray him.

“I think,” she said, “that I will call again.
probably made a mistake.”

_ But the lawyer was curious; this fresh, fair face
interestéd him.

“Did I understand that you had sent letters’ here
to a Mr. Clifton?” he asked; but Daisy was on her
guard, she would not betray him; only let her once
get safely out of this place, she would never enter
it again. She answered quite evasively:

I may have been mistaken; I—I will Jook’ over
my papers and see.”

Suddenly she paused, for plainly as she’ had ever
heard anything in her life, she’ heard the voice of
her husband in the next room; he was speaking to
Mr. Brown, the head elerk.

Ineed not trouble Mr. Cooper,” he. said; ‘the
fact is, [am very much annoyed. My housekeeper
is leaving very suddenly, and I have made all
arrangements for the season; I must have one at
once. Ask Mr, Cooperto put an advertisement in
all the principal papers, to apply here; he will
choose more wisely for me than I ean choose for
myself.”

She did not hear the clerk’s reply, but her hus-
band said:

“T will call again this afternoon about it; just
write down what I require.”’

Then there was silence. Her face had grown
white as death, her pulse seemed to bound in her
veins. Mr. Cooper was looking at her in wonder.

“T beg your pardon,” she said, “but I do not feel
well. Iwill eall again.”

But she did not rise to go. What if she met him
in that outer room? It seemed to Daisy that her
heart was clutched with an iron hand—the breath

know a hotel called’ Thavies Inn ?” she

 

manage all hi

,

I have

 

 

 

 

all outward events and matters as though she had

 

came in hot, thick gasps from her lips. The lawyer
looked at her in puzzled alarm,

noshare in them. She went where she was told

“T am quite sure that you are ill,” he said, hastily.
It never occurred to him, shrewd and clever as he
was, to connect in any way the pallor and agitation
of the fair-faced woman before him with the sound
of the voice heard in the next room. His eyes were
fixed with sueh unwavering keenness on Daisy,
she was compelled to anwser him,

“Tam not ill; but Iam not used to London; it
frightens me, the noise, the bustle, the glare. I am
confused,”

Then she heard footsteps; and she knew that her
husband was leaving the place.

*T wille@all again,” she said,in a
“T must go now,”

And just as she reached the door she saw her hus-

half-stifled voice,

band pass through it and disappear.

CHAPTER XLI.
ONE-HALF OF THE MYSTERY,

Daisy was certain of hisidentity ; she would have
known his face anywhere—the handsome, high-
bred faee, with the beautiful eyes and mouth. At
firstit seemed to her that the shock was so great
she must fall on the ground; then she steadied her-
self; After all, why need she-be afraid—why be as-
tonished at finding him there ?. It was only to be
expected.“ She went to the civil young clerk who:
had spoken to her on her first entrance, and, try-
ing to assume a nonchalant air, said: ]

* “Whois that gentleman—the one who has just
passed/out? You opened the door for him.”

The clerk looked at her, evidently puzzled as to
whether he ought to answer the question or not.

“T know him,” she continued, in a careless tone,
“but I cannot reeall,his name,’

The clerk was auite satisfied.

“It.is. Sir Clinton Adair,” he replied.

Again the iron hand seemed to clutch her heart
and hold it still; nothing but her sense, of what was
at stake kept her from betraying herself. She con-
tinued to repeat it in a yoice even more careless:

“Sir Clinton Adair!” she said. “Ah, yes; I had
forgotten.” a :

Then she passed out; it séemed to her that she
must have fresh air, or she should die. She went
out into the crowded streets. The throng of peo-
ple, the noises of carts, drays, cabs, omnibuses, the
cries of the street venders, all confused her;. her
heart and brain seemed to be on fire. She walked
on a few steps, then stood quitestill, looking round
her with a bewildered air. A gentleman passing. by
noticed it, and looked pityingly at the fair-~wwoman,
dressed in deep black, who wasevidently Jostin the
erowd. He touched his hat and spoke to her. \

“Are you looking fora cab ?” he asked, gravely.

“Yes,” she replied, And he, seeing the dreamy,
bewildered expression of her face, said.to himself
there was something wrong. :

He stood by her side in silence until the cab he
had signaled forecameup. Then he held the door
open while she entered. | ;

“Thank you,” said Daisy; “you are very good.”

“Tt fancied you had lost your way,’ he replied;
“and that is a very serious thing to do in London.
Where shall I tell theyman to drive to?”

Again he was startled at the innocent, helpless,
bewildered look. r ;

“fam in great trouble,” said Daisy; “and I want
to gotoa quiet place—some placewhere I can think.
These streets confuse men!”

“Drive to the park,’ sald the gentleman, Then
with alow bow he ‘disap peared ; but more than
once that day he spoke of the fair, graceful woman
he had met.in the crowded street. ie Ee -

At last she was alone with the blue sky above her,
and the sweet fragrant aiy refreshing her, Alone
in the green, undulating park, where the tall trees
were budding into fresh life, and she, had time to
think. She saw chairs beneath the trees, and she
sat down on one to rest, She drew along sigh of
relief—a deep sigh that was almostamoan. |
So she had found out one-half of the mystery at
last; her husband was not Mr. Clifton; he was Sir
Clinton Adair, Why had he assumed that name
for what purpose ? toqwhat end? ie
» Her thoughts wentnce the place and the hour
when she had first’heard it. She remembered
bending over him and asking him his name; he
lost certainly answered,” Mr. Clifton.” She
t haye been mistaken, and, if she were mis-.

  

 
 
  

taken. 3why did he no creet her? He always
called himself Clifton<she had known no other
name singe her jaz6 than Mrs, Clifton—he had
given her the ness for her letters; there was no

    

iS
mistake about it, and after all, it was not his own
name, Why had heassumed it ?—not, oh, Heaven,
surely not to deceive her!)He had married her of
his own free will, and they were safely, legally,
properly married; it could not have been from any
motive connected eet why was it? —

Had he committed anyslicht error or indisere-
tion that caused him to hide himself ?. She could no
longer think that. He was not hiding; he went
through the London streets; be was making.ar-
rangeménts for living}, S@nden for three months;
he was eecontlyl es aon in the lawyer’s office;
there. hidi ue

  
    
 
   
   

     

 
  
   
 

  

  

she was, Lady Adair, andthe little child in the’

    

   
   
     

no ng, ma eeerecy there. She said to. | said, mentally appraising her yisitor’s dress. ‘‘Not
hers at the SAS Cayse whieth 16d him. to pass worth inone tha temshillings a week,” she said to
by a name that wa jee aie mystery that | herself; “stillI may getthat.” While Daisy thought:
pervade PR ic 8 outs ther elas an. open face, proba ty an open heart;
when she knew whit tay, shé would know hoy /if,I remain quiet, shall hear all about it.
toact. Sir Clinton Adair! then Daisy save a ; ae” was not far wrong in hér estimation of good
stirt and a cry. - If héwere indeed Bir Oi s. Freeman’s character.

are]

“Between: the hours of twelve and two,” she
thought. “I will go and watch; I will get to know
who succeeds. Something will come of it, after all,
I feel quite sure.”

She dressed herself very plainly; she hid all the
wealth of rippling browmhair beneath the somewhat
old-fashioned bonnet that She had purchased for
the occasion. She looked at herself with some
satisfaction.

“TL do not believe,” she thought, “that, even if ho
met me in the street, he would know me.”

It was easy this time to find her way to Thavies
Inn, The eloek was just striking twelve. She saw
several respectable ‘elderly women waiting; she
looked at them with great curiosity,

“So,” she said to herself, ‘‘after all, it\will be one
of these women who willkeep my husband’s house.”

They were admitted/into the. office, and, after a
short interval, one returned looking very disconso-
late—evidently she hadno chance; then¢ame two
more, talking together eagerly. a.

“She was the Duke @f Trelawn’s housekeeper,”
Daisy heard one \say tothe other; “I knew she
would get it when Psaw her-there,”

“Yes,” was the mournful reply; ‘there was no
chance against such recommendations as hers.”
Two more followed, and it seemed to Daisy that
she knew the successful one from the contented ex-
pression of her face. She was also talking to her
companion,and Daisy, listening, heard her say:

; Tam to go'om Phursday ; come and see me before
en.

Mechanieally Daisy followed her;:this woman,
who was to keép' her husband’s house, interested
her greatly. Shesawher stop an omnibus, and say
to the conductor—"*Put me down at Meadow Lane,
Hohoway.”’ Without a moment’s hesitation Daisy
entered the same omnibus.

 

CHAPTER XLII.
DAISY’S STRATAGEM,

The woman who had so powerfully excited Daisy’s
curiosity did not appear to notice her; during the
greater part of the journey she occupied herself in
studying a torn book of accounts; the crowded
streets disappeared, and stunted trees, with _ill-
favored flowers gave some sign of a better air. Hal-
loway was reached, and Daisy looked out for Mead-
ow Lane. The bell rang; the omnibus stopped.
‘Meadow Lane,” said the conductor; and the
housekeeper-elect got out. Daisy tollowed her,
‘She walked down the lane until she reached a row
of pretty cottages, with little gardens in front. The
woman entered the third of these, and Daisy, to her
intense delight, saw—“Apartments to let?—in the
window. t nigh

“How my difficulties vanish,” she said to herself.

 

 

“Shall you see Sir Clinton Adair vou sn?”
ou see f f y often?” she
geked one morning, among other questions, and
el Jordan thought how simple and ignorant she
“Te the same rules are observed there as i
, : 2reas in man
other places,” she replied, “I- shall see him wane
morning after brea ya The Duke of Trelawn
y

used to go to his librar ter breakfast to re
papers; [ wentto him there and received a tre
orders he liad togive. That was a tiresome place
there Were always guests going and @oming, rooms
to prepare and arrange. ¥Y greatest trouble,”
continued Mrs, Jordan, growing confidential, “was
not so mMuchthe grand people themselves, as their
servants; tomy mind a duke’s valetis more trouble
than a duke,@ Que¢hess’ maid giyég more trouble
than her mistress; but [ shall nothave much of
that kind of thingat Sir Glinton’s.”™.

Why not?” asked Daisy, trying Ward to conceal
the interest she could not help feeling,

e does not entertain—he visi

but Mr. Cooper said, ‘beyond a few
there would not be mue

    
    
   
 
   

me ercat deal;
in {1 7" mer parties,
: C n the wa Raycty.’”
So Daisy learned hertesson. She had Boat re-
solved to ask Mrs. Jordan to let her go inher place.
She would offer her a hundred pounds, and promise
fe provi for her afterward; but fate was kinder
© her,
On the Tuesday morning theletter that Mrs, Jor-
dan had solongand soanxiouslyexpected, arrived ;
she Was in sore distress—it ought to have reached

her afortnight™since, and had been missent. It
was from her son, saying how anxiously he was ex-
pecting her, inclosing a handsome remittance for
her expenses out. In the pride of her motherly
love she showed the letter to Daisy. Itsaid:

No more work, mother, Iam a richman now,
but Pshall never enjoy my riches until you are hcre
to share them. LThave.a grand, beautiful house,
but.it will never be home to me until you are init.
I will not returnto England; like America best
men are more equal here—so you must come tome,
mother. Come by theCunard line, and come first-
class—have every ‘cOmfort.’ You shall not keep
house again for any One but me.”

He must bea very kind son,” said: Daisy, as she
returned the letter, “You. will go, I suppose ?”
Then a sudden shope:throbbed) im-her heart and
flushed her face. “You will,not gotoSix Clinton
Adair’s now, I suppose?” she said,

No; I am'sorry about it. IT should nothaye gone
about the place, but I fancied my son had changed
his mind, and thought he had got married or some-
thing of that kind. -I hardly know what to do—I
told Mr. Cooper this might happen.”

Do you mean Mr, Cooper)of the firm in Phavies
Inn?” asked Daisy, pretending ignorance.

“Yes; do you know them ?”

 

 

“I can go into this house at once, on the plea of en-
gaging rooms; in fact, I will engage them,”
But a sudden idea ogeurred to Daisy. What if, in
the after time, Sir Clinton brought her home as his
wife? It would never do for people to recognize her.
She must disguise herself. }
Away went Daisy, without,rest, or time,or thought,
only anxious to do everything as quickly as possi-
ble. She bought a black wig; she bought a white
cap and black yail,through which he face, could not
be. seen. With these she returned_to her hotel.
She dressed herself in her room. Brushing back
the golden browa came. she put on the black coif-
fure; itso completely changed her appearance that
she did not recognize herself. She; surmounted
that with a cap that she was assured was of the style
worn by all housekeepers in good families, She
had asked forthat kind of thing attheshop.° =.
She laughed aloud at herself.
““Byen baby would not know me,” shesaid. “He
would take me fora stranger.” ee oe
. She fastened the thick vail carefully down,,.so that
if. met anycfthe servantsof the hotel they
would not see the change in her; and then, armed
for victory; asshe thought, she set out again for
Meadow Lane. - gy
it was the dusk of the erating. now; and Daisy
rapped at the door. It was opened by a small child,
who wore a very large bonnet. 7 { ;
“You have some rooms to let,” said Daisy. “I
should like tosee them,” ~ eae
“Mother,” cried the child; “here is some one
about the rooms.” eh :
*“That’s rare good luck, Eliza Ann,” Daisy heard;
“shall be pleased if Ican let them just as you are

going.”

“It willbe very fortunate,” replied a stiffer, colder
voice, which Daisy at once said to herself was the
housekeeper; then a stout, active, motherly-look-
ing- woman came out into the dimly-lighted pas-
sagel
“You want to see the rooms, ma’am ?” she said to
Daisy. “We haye two, a parlor and front bed-
room.” : ; ae
“IT should like to see them,” said Daisy; and the
mistress of the house» led the way into the front
parior. She looked round with. an air of pride in
its possession.

“It is a-pretty room, ma’am, and yery clean,” she

“T have had business with them,” ~yas the 6¥asive
reply. “Indeed, strange, to say;lam going there
Hors abs I know. what I should do in, your

ace. :

‘What ?” asked Mrs, Jordan, briefly.

Ishould write, to Mr. Cooper and tell him what
had happened; and that as you could not now take
the place he must Jook out’ for ‘Some One’ else; and
if you like I will takethedetter.”

‘It will be the best plan;’ said MrsiJordan. “I
shall not certainly have time to call myself.”

[TO By CONTINUED.}

SNOWED IN AND OUT.
A Story forthe Little Folke.
By Mary Kyle Dallas.

 

[“Snoweds Inyand Snowed Out?.was.commenced in No. -17.
Back Nos. ¢atrbé obtained from any News Agent in the United
States and Canada. }

 

CHAPTER VIII—(Continvep.)

“Once upon atime there was a boy who thought
he knew more than mother or father, as some
others I could mention do, shipmates, He wouldn’t
study or go to school, nor obey in any ways and

et, he thought that no one»had the rightto flog

im. Wheneyer he had a good. flogging he whined
and sulked overit, and made up his mind there
never was such an ill-used boy, or such a cruel set
of parents and masters. Eyen the old minister,
who took such pains to teach him the catechism,
and what was. the.chief end-of man; ‘and *the whole
of it, which I ought to know better than I do, and
the mother that kept him whole and neat, and made
him turnovers and tarts to takete sehool for lunch,
and took him to shows and museums, and did alk
the good thingsthat mothers do do, he thought a
pretty cruel sort of -woman;-because, d’ye see,
children, she wanted him to go to school, and to
church, and to obey. his father’s.orders. Once he
bellowed like a bull because she wouldn't let him
eat green apples, and stole some in the night and
eat’em in bed, and had the colic before morning,
so that the doctor had to be sent for,and eyenesthiat

 

“The rooms are well aired, ma’am,” she said;
“indeed, my sister, Mrs. Jordan, has been staying
with.me, and she has-had them.”
- “Ts your sister leaying you?” she asked, in atone
of kindly interest. | :
‘Oh, yes, She is going out again as housekeeper.
going to live at Sir Clinton Adair’s,” i
jronounced the words with such an air of

 

 

    
   
  

i She must
decide Upon some method; already her courage |
and. perseyerance had led her ’to. make this dis=

covery—she knéw some of his’ secret, she would

discover the rest.- a Poe ts

“herd never was a vite Said Daisy, “with-
out a.way. of have the will, must make the way.”
If she Could by Some nears or other cet to know
where he lived; then it oceurred to’ her that would
be easy enough, She had but to look in a London
diréctory to find out that. She remembered ‘well
hearing her husband speak. of it, and. say that every
large town should have its directory. She’ had
never thought then that the ditectory would come
to her aid. ° She would try it. It seemed to her that
if she could seethe outside of the house, she should
gather something eyen from that. ;

Daisy lost no time; she. walked from the green

park, where the air, and the trees, and the grass

had refreshed her; skedid notstop untilshe came

toalarge store—a stationer’s #she went in, and af-

tet making some trifling purchases, she asked to

look atthe directory. Shé wassome time*in find-
ing it, but she’saw it at last? Sir’ CHnton Adair,
Lifdale House...

Daisy looked at the storekeeper who had’ been

serving hershe seemed good-témpered and amiable,

she thought, and she inguiredof himif he knew

where Lifdale House was, :

“Ves.” he knew; “it was oneof the large man-

sions facing Hyde Park to thewest,” and he gave

her ample directions how to rea¢h there. ; Half-an-

hour afterward, Daisy was standing. opposite to

that. stately and magnificent niamsion. They little

dream ed—thosewho passed by aud glanced casually

at the tall ‘figure, so plainly dressed ‘in black, that

there was the mistress of thatjsuperb, abode; the
unloved wife looking for the fist time on‘her*hus-

band’s home, Could it be his,,that grand mansion?
She thought of the little cottage at Fernvale; she
thought of the pretty Jittle yillas among the hills of
sunny France. Whatwere they compared to this ?
How could the lord of this statelyabode ever have
contented himself there ?

Could it be? Should she wake up and find her-
self dreaming ?—the babe _in the cot by her side,
the yine-leaves climbing the windows, the song of
bright-plumaged birds inher ears. Was all this
mystery which oppressed her and demented her a
wild fancy 2? :

She stood opposite the house, her tall figure
draped in a black dress, her fair face hidden by her
vail. Ah,it was no fancy; no dfeam! She sawa
carriage drive rapidly up.to the door, and her hus-
band, alighting from it, enter thehouse.

Then it was his—this sumptuoms, earriage, these
prancing steeds, the servants in livery; all this was
his—he who had been content'to live in a little
villa, with two seryants!

“Either,” said Daisy, “he lovedme very much to
do that for my sake, orhe does not love meat all.
Which is it, Sir Clinton Adair? The mystery is one
of two thirgs,” she said—“either he is ashamed of
me, and does not intend to bring me here—will not
allow his friends to know anything about me; itis
either that, or he cares for some one else.”

The mystery had been brought downto one of
these two solvings.. Which was the truth?

“T wish,” said Daisy. “that I hadthe ring of For-
tunatus, or the power of the invisible genie;.then I
would go into his house, and watch him until [knew
allabout it.” | ;

Why not gointo his house in. some character or
other unknown to him—goin disguise? She had
read of such things in novels, she had known them
to be true—why not imitate them?

She became absorbed ‘in this idea. There was
only one way.in which she could get into the house
—that would be disguised as aseryant. But how to
manage it she had no idéa. . ;

Suddenly it oceurred to.her that her husband'had
said he wanted a housekeeper, and Mr. Cooper was
to attend to it for him. She could not quite sea her
way, but here was an opening atleast. She return-
ed to the hotel, her mind filled with ‘this ‘project ;
she could neither eat nor sleep for thinking of it.

The next morning she saw the adyertisement:

“Wanted a housekeeper, to take charge of a no-
bleman’s house in-town. First class: referenees re-
quired. Apply between_the hours of 12 and 2, at
Messrs. Cooper, 8 and 4 Thavies Enh.”

“Whatis it?” cried Daisy, excitedly. She Jooked
atthe words with some curiosity, as though they
eould tell her the mystery lying beneath “them.
“Wanted ahousekeeper! Sir Clinton Adair, there

 

off home—what was he?” Why had he Fea
and title a se¢M@t- from her?” Was he ashamed of
her? Did he consider herupworthy to share them ?
No, for if that had been the case, bho would nog in
the first instance, have married her, (9°)
. She ecoald not solvo the story; tho 1obaee aug
thought ok ees vit uzalea ces Bat:
she was Wrente-tieter m fi ver to Mind it out,)
How? That became the tiéstion,

Sik

impoftance that Daisy involuntarily thought:
“What would you say if you knew that Lady Adair
was speaking to you ?” :

h “My sister, Mrs. Jordan, has been a widow some
years. She has been housékeeper in many grand
families. She was at the Duke of Trelawn’s.”
And again kindly Mrs. Freeman paused to see if
her visitor was overcome by the mention of such
names. Daisy making no signs, she continued:
*“My-sister had only. one son, and they say that he
has grown to be a rich man in America; he was to
have sent for his mother, but he has not done so,
She left the Duke of ‘Trelawn’s on purpose to go to
hiny; but as he has not sent, she has taken this
place. She has been giving me twelve shillings a
week for the rooms, but I am willing to take ten.”
“T will give you fifteen,” said Daisy, quietly, and
the-woman.looked up quickly,

“T will make it up to you in attention, madam,”
she said, smilingly. “The only thing is, these rooms
will not be at liberty until my Sister goes, next
Thursday—that is four days yet.” ;

Daisy’s face fell; she hoped to bein the house}
and to know her husband’s secret before then. |
Perbaps,’: she said, “you would not mind trying
to accommodate me untilthen? Tam notover par-
ticular, and-I shouldnot like to,take other rooms
after seeing these.” : ‘

“I will speak to my sister, Mrs. Jordan,” said the
woman. She raised her yoice, calling out:
‘Eliza Ann, willyou come this way?’ and then
Daisy saw again the woman who had come smiling-
ly from Messrs. Cooper’s office.. She looked doubt-
ful on hearing what was wanted. Turning to her
Sister, she said: \
“You know if a letter does come from Harry I
should give up Sir Clinton’s and start at once, so
that, after all, my plansare uncertain. Yes, I think
we may manage to accommodate the lady.” .

So it was decided that Daisy should remain and
share'the rooms with Mrs. Jordan for a few days.
Nothing could have suited her better. Mrs. Jordan
hardly understood the intense interest with which
their loaeor listened to every detail of her life. To

Daisy’s disappointment she knew nothing of Sir

didn’t teach him grown folks knew the best.

“As he grew older he didn’t grow better. On the
contrary, worse; and a ‘heap of trouble these g6o0d
parents had with him. His mother used to kneel
down and pray for him, but that didn’t softem his
heart.; He had two sisters, grown up young ladies,
almost; and a. litthe young baby brother, andno
one was like him‘in the family; and he used to

wake the baby, stamping and yelling, when it was

cutting its avhite ‘teeth, and he eut his
dress up, to Make'a balloon of one day.” f

“That must have “been jolly,” said’ Theo, wnder
his breath. |

“Jolly!” said the sailor, “nop my lad, it was bad
trick, ahd the balloon wouldn’t rise, and he had a
flogging to boot,'as he well déserved. Taking the
linen sheets for sails for a’ boat he was orderéd not
to goin was another of his pranks, and smoking
Neer he was too ill to hold his head up, was ‘an-
other.’

Theo looked at Claude: Some boys he knew had
done much the same thing, and there was ‘a bundle
of very nasty, cheap cigars in his trunk at that mo-
ment, for which‘he had “swapped ” a very valuable
penknife. j

“Well. well, childyen.” said the sailor, ‘as IT say,
he went on from worse to worse, until be found
himself in'a propty pickle, He had fallen in with
bad boys, and they had induced him to steal money
from his kind, good father, who gayé him all he
needed, and more.” :

Lae was worse than me, then,” said Theo, triump-
antly.

“I hope so,” said the sailor; “but d’ye see, the
principleis the same, whether it is your father’s
money or your mother’s preserves.

***Tt is asin to steal a pin,
AS well as any greater thing..’

Which isn’t rhyme, though the writer meant it
for poetry.

Theo turned very pink. Ruth looked. solemn.
Tamar shook her head, and Gail. laughed; Claude
covered his face with the counterpane,

“Well,” said Captain Hal, “after the bad young
fellow had -taken the money, and knew he must
very soon be found out, he was in a state of mind,
I can tell you... He was more afraid of fiogging
than of his Maker. © For. d’ye see, he. broke @
commandment, but. he couldn’t put up with astroke
of a whip, as if his soul was not worth more than
his skin. And, d’ye see, children, that skin, we
think so much of changes in every seven. years.
every bit of it; and the soul lives on for everand
ever right in thesight of God. :

“So he went down to the wharf one night, and
stood looking ata great ship anchored, there, and
says he: ‘Pll run away, from home, and goto sea,

Sister's silk

?

 

Clinton Adair.» The only thing that she could tell

her was—he had a very large and magnificent
estate'in the countrys it was called Eastwold, and

was quite a palace in its way.

“Then ‘you are not going there?” said Daisy.

“No,” she replied, “I am for the town house;

these grand people all have two or threé honses,

ete tense in London and others in the coun+
ry:

“Have they?” askéd Daisy. “Ise, then-—this Sir

linton Adair~one of the grand'people?” |

Mrs. Jordan looked ati her with some little con-

tempt.

“T should have thought,” she said, “that any one
knew that; he is a baronet, and is one of the rich-
est and noblést in England,”

“Ts he married?” asked Daisy.

“No, and I wonder at it. I saw him once at the
Duke of Trelawn’s; anda handsomer man, to” my
mind, never was.” |. ; ‘

.“Are you suré hé is not married?” asked Daisy.

Mrs. Jordan laughed.

“Yes, she replied.

“Mr. Cooper, the lawyer, who engaged me, told
me there was no Lady Adair.”

pee sat in'silence for some minutes, then she
said:

“That seems a great! pity. With so much, he
should have a wife to share it. Perhaps he will be
matried.” : f

“T cannot tell,” she replied, cautiously.

“Ts there any rumor of the kind?”

“None that I have heard,’”’ she answered.

And then Daisy proceeded to put her through a
catechism of a housekeeper’s duties. Already a
scheme was forming in her busy brain. :

She learned from Mrs. Jordan during those two
days the chief duties of a housekeeper—what was
expected from her, what to do, what to ayoid.

“Do you see much of the gentlemen?” she asked
—“do you take your orders from them when there
are no mistresses?” i

“Well,” replied Mrs. Jordan, frankly, “‘to tell you
the honest truth, I do not think’much of men my-
self; rich or poor, géntle or simple, they are pretty
much alike. LIlived two years with a husband—
well, [say no more. But when they give an order,
they never seem to Know what to say. The way I
manage them is, I listen to every word, and then do
what I think best.” .

Daisy Smiled at the notion; she did not lose a
minute, \Mrs:Jordan-‘had never found sueh an in-

 

 

is no'word here of the wife you ‘left in France,
thinking she would be content to remain there.”

telligent, appreciative listener before,

 

f ag <

Mp Bo

TR, sR

and have no more lectures, and no flogging, and no
advice, and no schooling,,and no chureh-going
any more. : :

“Old Sam was. at. his elbow, and urged him on,
and he did it. Yes, children, he took a Jittle bundle
on his shoulder, and went aboard a, ship, at day-
light. Hetold a lie, and said he was an orphan,
Whether they believed him or: not,,they;wanted a
boy, and they took him, and before night he was
out upon the ocean. It was astormy yoyage, and
he was cold, and wet, and hungry, often and often,
and wished himself at home more than.once., And
he was flogged as he had never been flogged at
home, but there was no help for it now, he thought,
and he shipped again when-the voyage was over.
He was growing older, and had made friends
among the sailors, and: had-learned. their speech
and ways, and felt.as if he wasn’t fit company for
Be romne lady sisters, and his little innocent baby

rother,

Oh! children! children! I can’t tell you.all that
boy did. His wickedness grew with his.growth, and
strengthened with his strength. He was soon not
only a naughty boy, but a bad man; and years went
by, and he never cared to be better, until one day
ashore in old England, with the ocean between him
and home, he went with some other sailors into a
little Methodist church. They wentin to make fun
of the parson and congregation, but. after a while
the praying began, and it seemed to this boy it was
all for him, and he got away from his companions,

and up front and knelt with the rest.and after a
while he found those good people looking at him
and says he:

“Messmates,

D ay for the worst sinner among
you,” and they did it.

“And the good Lord God heard, and he went out
of that church a different man. s

“There was & sea-captain there, a good Christain
man, and he followed him,

“Says he, ‘Shipmate a-hoy.’ :

“Says I, Lmean he, ‘sarvice captain.’

“Says he, ‘Look here friend, you are just converted
you don’t want to go under a captain and with a
crew that will undo what has been done. Take a
berth | with me, Going to America, port of New

ork, ‘

“Says I ‘And thank ye, too, captain.’

“So LT sailed with him. He helped me, [swore no
oaths and drank no grog, and we all had. prayers,
night and morning, and service of a Sabbath, and
then Ff began thinking—I mean, he began. thinking,

 

of father and mother, and of going to them,

 

 

 

 

 

oomy