' for! V ‘ \‘. We“ 5; l '\4 “11's.: -_a,’.’:r£v>u r '1 Mg I > H . §‘ 7 t ' . . . . . -. mums mm l w: 'Ffi ()flive at New Yok, N. '.._:sfeioh'll‘glnss)lzlhuflfllcr. 122711.15“. PUBLISHED WEEKLYBY ,BEADLE AND ADAIUS, Price. 6 No. 98 William Street, New York. Fivec nts. w ' -l_.__.r... "U, M _. .____. V.e_._.,___...~... " TAKE THE CHILD TO ITS MOTHER- l - I . Ll ‘ ' ‘ Hui 4 WHY DO YOU 1 LSITATE EN OBEYING YOUR MISTRESS?" HIS LAWPUL WIPE; Or, Myra. the Child of Adoption. BY MRS. ANN S. STEPHENS. MOTHER AND CHILD. ws were all open, but shaded fold th muslin transparent as dew d snowy as the drifts of a summer The floor was spread with East India matting, and in a corner of the chamber stood a couch shaded with clouds of delicate lace and clad in snow white even to the floor A great easy-’ chair, covered with chaste ,dimity stood close by the bed, and further 011? a. miniature couch.‘ snow white also, saye where the soft rose tints of an inner curtam, light and silken, broke through the waves of snow gossamer that flowed over it. Upon the pil own! this pretty couch lay abou net of flowers tied loosely by an azure-colored ri hop and more beautiful still g, 2 ‘ Y” a??? \ 5" if, iiini'enhwlthon‘o ’ hand" '3' I , resting m 92311:! to ,. 7, _r y cb-iaiossom,gon; its basement! its Eli theytouungifewa his hand between both, pegged smili ,asahudsnciosesto the ore and lasing'it witha e ,er negotiate ten~ - z. -' 3r. r} so is some" new Vieunmmmwhu new am” was“ A' owersse g r rea, n. o n 1’ ex _ » 7 ' ' 0st ‘_ , v fiirouggihe misty dra ries,and half-smothered in , painful. ‘ ' “ " mi , .\. ‘ glance incaloy the shim-infant; and slittle “Whati, becausels’cattei‘ed" ,. urlied- » _ v , troy omuponvthe larger couch- rspo another , sidewith thefiowers'yon'hav‘. enw, , i‘Was _, bei‘ ngulinthe iandlhloom ofwomagly beauty. thgéfllihng reply,1 m r I. t t 5th ,ld / ee.uwr erarzee wane -- ,0.Wemwoome 've prison! g mtowpard thelnfaiit,‘and trombonist» bouquet me the. coinage tel/fol!le ’sa’idT‘tlie ‘u and moss-roses that, teobl florists together wftg orange blossoms Y r ' . , — elioate fingers, was yet falling apart dropping its blossoms over the counter- , An air of 'ntie languor lay u n this can creature, magi-flamers was somethingngore the; this affectionate tenderness with which a mother regards her youn child, in the look that she, from time to _- u the slumberln infant—a shade of, ,- sadness th but for her feeb ‘e state, might have ‘ taken the ,stren th of, passionate regret, seemed greadytobreak rom her eyes in a flood of tears, rlwhe‘never they dwelt longer than usual u n the _ But when her grie was ready to brea forth, ' _ she would allow her eyes to dr00p toward the flow. '« era that seemed to have some pleasant association , connected with their fragrance, and a sweet smile- not the less sweet that there was sadness in it—would ' {garb her lips while ,a faint sigh floated through in began to nestle in its crib, ' opening its large brown e es, turned them’uyon , 7 recumbent female. As ‘ her tears laysonear the surface as to require only this motion to set flow-lug, the ymother as she encountered r a, . ed the “3% in: t inhereyea derd fellamuyh and lover ‘ an one. y one wmfbut ' ' qr / ‘ ;.",‘I:muet: iookotit. I must not learn tolovelt so,” “ -: r n turning her head away and d her teartul eyes with one hand; “ l why - r nonlethal-so young, and With husband like ‘ always find every feeling, every impulse shacfied asit sprin mm m heart? .Why was ' I there-"noose my out from the blight, mugged, too-surely, will 0 :13 around me to the ; ' lSlashers.th began to , and there came into the room'scolmd Woman 11 and with "that superb Worms , form that sofrcquently character- ‘ «use the dusky-lined women of the South. She embed-the crib and took the child in her arms, I} it with a sort of cajoling attempt at tender- ‘ weaned to annoy, the young mother not a afl- :2. i ‘ “Give-tho hshato mel”she said. feebly reaching i forth herb.szr , . “mam , better not, mi ” relplied the woman..pzessin her full lips upon t, e vs vet cheek resting on he:n SOIn—a most unnatural pillow,as . theiunha mother felt all too keenly. “ Nurse ' - saidlaet tthat oungmiesusmnstho kept quiet” . angthefl ‘ . {no tto rethermmuch.” ‘ ' swthat youwonld inshore soon,“ la. trite get 6 ‘ ' t e ' herhand‘. 2“," lyour t ' daughter bask gaggfiwers to pieces the moment they come within “Like her mother haiZulimal"sald the antle- man, shaking his head, but smiling fondly ill the time. ‘ She must have more tience and less pride than’her mother, this pret y child—or“ she will “As unfortunate and as unha as her moth has been," said the young wifefi’gl her eyes illieed will”??? '1: willbe 1 ly d in o o s e as ove an as - whatever 1313:6101: may rove, and as truly him} Zufima,” he added, a ter a moment’s pause; an With an expression'of deep feeling, mingled with a shade of sadness, the proud husband azed upon his wife and child till the tears clouded ' own line ey ‘ ’ es. , a For a moment there was silence between the hus- band and wife. Both were azinguponthe infant, and both were occupied wit, thoughts where pain and tenderness were almost . Y stern and lofty (pride, tinged the swoet current of his sheltering ‘11 her bosom with one. fairy arm, from which ,she sleeveo! hernighodressmsif detestin th 7 “cats lawn for coming between her and that 5mm. “You will.not send her awa l"said the yo creature. liftng her eyes to the see or her husbauglcf‘ which was becom more and more the htful “I know—I know, Zulima,” said the husband, in- terrupting the beautiful pleader with an accent which, though not unkind told how the slightest opv osition abated his ,rou nature. ,4‘ It is natural. on must love the 0, 1d; who could help it? But do on not love me betterF-do: e? its father’s fame- our’ own mputatibn. well en‘oI h to relinquish her or a time?” will say of’me——but I cannot give her ups—indeed in, deed _I cannot." The youn .mother rose in the hed, and with her child folded to or bosom with one armrf drew his face down until it touched the infant as she covered his forehead with kisses. ' us both—you wzll not take mycbild from moi" t . y . , me child {retinal Glzie it gluing}: '. cried i mother so one a . colorbrokg‘oyer her pale o colt, like to abrupt ' ning of a rosebud. “ It is cruel, it is unkind t us to keepabalw from its mother’s bosom. e- neher ordered it. know Well enough it is notrhls wish that Ijshouldbe tortured in this manner." . ,_.“,'I'oltethechud toits mother. Why do you hesi- ' fin ‘ 3- log your mistress?" cried _a firm and h ‘ from the door; and with his lofty step "80 ,1 ~ ‘ bduod, a gentleman entered the *cham- , whose air a! authority awed the negress at once. ' r. «fie-a chad the cum female, who had started reagergrgs-tmm hisypilldw with eyery maniiiesta- z deeptondemessln isvoioeand manners : ' “ Have youfoeen " for m Zullma?” he ' ' ' down to kiss the fair orehead of his! usualat the counting- tly ha. _ and freeing himself from her fond eni~ raceuv'luie. his fine features bespoke the terrible pain which it cost him’i/u is firm. I “ While the man ' who has once claimed you for his wife remains unu furnished 1 cannot acknowledge fyou mine, legally ugocentl’y m asin the sigh 0 Heaven on are" . ‘1 do not ask ii. Let the world think 0 me as it likes. will submit to reproach—490 emulsion—any thin e—I utleave m child-never!” - ‘ ' “ uhmal” was he firm and almost reproochful reply; ‘f do you think.your reputation is separate from mine? Shall I caste stagedu n my wife which no after time can sauces » h giqngfid and SW t0 1 it}; ngjsteagltgm agn_ ,, ‘Oeaseweem andis 11 am e v, wheeze meager? wife—"’ ' a I ' 7,» P sh‘fi; * is t ave-Iknow I” oriedthe poor youngereature, ad impatiently flung hack the loose ' 1032:3111, moment. “Ah if you knew how much love you ‘not love, its future V vs thought of it all—I know what the World ‘ cast the other round the proud man’s neck, an “ “You will keep. - from head to foot. and healing her face‘ in better cendition. Shot ' not old enough ‘ tear ' blended. Pride, ‘ reflections aan she—inn ulsive o - cream — " " th ,_ tofnothing but hell- anger assiongte love for him, an of thezbeautif chil she was ,"Zulim it must be,” Said the husband. drawing: I I eat produce her. a n 7 lunch)QO "on, motel i ' the fame of my wife, I should never be hapxay —sn , erase from the illow'where sh h u magmu_ e adbeenstrlv it . we? ' his e es were blinded with m - , couch. v. ~, yew-vet mng ” ‘ »3 , r I will the “g; “impose me that subjecti" gm up- leéucheeirs dthe “re ort tprou man's HWWhiletheghs h d amere ou became thalldu e and _ Wottinsviiendamllea ' ewxronged “ sand wronged your love—'1 ~ ' .Ko, no! I d n are him-J m‘l child——-. I knewnet w thrown!" broke in assionate murm ‘ the pillow where _ “me; 9%Zimlfltltdtiht‘ , him. knourquite as well that gig inch”e gloatng 39.852311: weegfcggd! I would give worlds that 3111111? “ghee; with me only a min to intense ° ’m“ L A 11 *re the “I know, Zuhmmpthat you were men doc! 11 lo er. ' " possible? to gig ,. young mother. on w living, and that you fled freight: home th ou in convinced beng gtgcgzlrl: 1533‘s on e x e' ' unfiléds ctegino ' u the ho! w 1:15.110 I glen col 1: i w e or ’wcan con nces et 1: , whichtomeisasacredtruth? H yo ha qt his previous mar-nag no can I proclaim the union which has made me more an ha py? Zulima, I am a Froud man—sen.- sitive to pub c opinion—careful o my standing in the world. ‘ Were a breath of scepicion to rest upion 1:. You are young he unmame —-livin here under the mo of my dearest friend, who, wit one exctfitjison, is alone in my confidence. In a few mont n, will receive the A, e. Do on not see the eril or ’ thisch with ouytiil after that agent enables me to claim my wig final look ope-sax that amcausin ~63 t tohaye _ one sent “néiggfig‘aiani “anthem to th 11 13‘ th d h 4, 9 Bart e e t of feeling with which this appeal was made, Zu me. In nowinriso is " lngto long the infant in her trem- 7 motioned her husband to receive it. eyed from the sweet bur- c m‘fle'ii‘éi :“i m” h“ . a . oweverlsu pressed, still clamored at her heart. It was all in van]: the tearsgushed like shattered diamonds through the » hes, and she saped the counter- » one in a ‘tehrrgiile stfiife was 0 o n er. therlmdt #11:]: that keenin uition a prophecy, that she was not parting from her child for a. season. but forever, , _ consent, 2111mm? You will give 11 our little one with no anger, and without a this tter net?” cried the strong man, e as death, and endm gig the young mother with the child b I do." burst from those pale and train» 7 £3.st turned 3W8.wa limbs trembled. 9 of at t little babe seemed to bend and strong frame, as it he had been arsed. ; He looked back the mother. There she lag; the wet eye- lids 'c 039d and mm .her whi lips pressed together, and so pale, that but for the agitationot , her’teature’s she might have seemed stricken dead in the midst other anguish- He returned to the H mm, d kissthe babe heforeit “at” 11.170111 Wale “‘I derelict—I not.“ broke from , , , 7 ~7 .3 w l 1 MM “I 8 00! it on and ‘ then‘i’t Shanta! ,, outline {genoa'hink b mit isnetw to mess to you?“ wpehatul le ween) htbeguessedhythecolor-i m Zulimastacewas, 1 deceivedb this “ ere‘d that rtion o hile his wig was slave’dwellfnzs e moment 2 three miles ' thus stimulated , told him an. Thfiaecge 0% anguish—~th i not “intone cious arden'srowof» lines ” t§ ’ z " bmkhersohsrorhismot- gfiz‘dgmfirtingmga door closed~hu§hand and , o (1 both here gone. v Then the mothers ' roke forth. her arms were nun?1 upward, her (MW a, hen asped wildly toget er—a moment and the flowers that still crushing them - her utter insensi- CHAPTER I I x n. r n s r A I. s n 1:- n , Tme‘i'hntfi “‘6 21‘? “€13? mm“ W * who 5 e war e ' V woman , dildo“ till the b ht Madras ’kerchiet i31er her forehead mingl with the chestnut tresses, lay scattered over the shoulderend'hosomotlthe sufferer. She listened a. moment, self to make her— self uite certain that what seemed so deathly was geath itselféoand 1;):an lidedgrgamothe chanmim, < ‘ ‘ 11681688 ' e ‘ - V m 5 1”“ y “3 mimosa. stood at e further extremity ng in, A snowy patches throu h vines and trees t emhow—r approach mauvewhwhhz similar-“mm am r o a , w lace close to one of the g ' y I mitted light to the humbleroom, w i fiery colors of the Madras turban, which the Women . always wore, asit glided lik _ » ‘ throu h the thick foliage, nearer and nearer to the" i. den w ere he had for two hours for ) news from the sick-chamber. The slaflen j her ( dwelling, and‘sat down before her master-Juli,“ (that consequential assumption that a little power is ' carton: to call forth in one of her ignorantand d'e- " ~ rode case. ' 'v 1‘ 3 “Well, Louisa,” said the master, with ashow D! , careless indifference, for he was of cool and. subtle; gemgehrgent, with passion: stile: and calculeti , , ’2‘ ut o more grasping r A ,, fl , ‘ which like well-trained ounds, ,werele q Egg: the) legfig of hrlggrcrigg will; “ Wen, mvim,ml 4 _ , e . , 1' V y _. "I ' “0h,- ego am about e same, MassaRoee'daé dear ,er of her going off dis bout anyhow,“ no es, turninfieher head on one side sndmoving p m-leaf fan fore her face, with an air of _. _ conceittthatmade herauditorsmile, splice I Mappe- - occu ion. . : , _ , a “ a: just had a little fainting spell when I out but it won‘t last long-{no dangerl" i “ as she had an tors this morning—hes he ,. . _ been there, Louisal"y ' ‘ , > V v . v "“ Der, now. you ask me dot, Mensa §lust as if, he didn tcomeellerymorningothim. life: , " “* on be there,” retained, “and left her fainting Tell me, 4 , 3 hotels , e Napoleonthetl promised". . a v — u 3‘. “ ere, that am something like MassaRoss, and : ; the negress tied the gold in a corner other ‘ » call“; and tlggsthit into her bosom. ‘ Yes, I teree g e. , s ‘- ,2,- “W ” inter-m ted Meridian patient. “ tell me & that wont? P , not forget alook or a syllableuand piccolo ready when you have done; ’a ’ ’e n _, teams? in h sh had witnessedi'n the moms» andflflldewlsie, P »' and chi \ ', its exquisite. pathos, its touching dignity“; , the v vulgar mind and ooarses oft ’4 new man: Rx ‘nsgnedfitfi 3'21} that coarse witnmfimhe ' " ‘7 OT, ». ' . - ‘ girtthific’ it necessary to control bureaus-11th - ..,.4r, . His LAWFUL “Wm-n, disshnnietion that had become ‘9. habit. [He V‘ I listened and eshe felt, thus the evil man looked. - When the woman ceased ealdn the exultetion of .,efiendwes inthe smile the curl hislip. ‘ ' “ “And ‘ determined—s lie of her caresses, spite 0! her tears; I knew that i would be so. He is 7 hot. a. man to waver, having once taken a resolution tee-hut, 'the child, Louisu I have recommended a " ’woman 11 the ,river‘ to take charge of it, but you, jimy uise, must still be its nurse. It seems a. tech e little thing; do you not think so, Louise?” ‘ ii, ‘9 his! Ipremessn! No; it’s the best-net e I. , ’ ‘violence. ,. 'thl I evers “was there 1y, ‘ v ’gitated fir palm-legfe‘fan with Icons derablo ‘ "5 But away from 0 Louise, with some one less , , “god. it. may becomg s‘i'cklyin a. very little timeyou . now. > ' “Sluts on h!” end Louise half suspended the actioh-ot her an, esshe fell into a fit of profound .mtem£mmm, ' _ w . “W1, you to give it medicine and superintend, e- if itware ill, I-should feel ” uite safe,"seid Ross, - s a strange fiendish ‘sm' e crest over his lips. I .5; that i should come an see you very .‘ an . _ ' - '“ Ohlryou would. Well, den, I haven’t nothing to ' a . sinst going with the baby.” ; ‘ , e’rever I send you, Louisa?” - ' . : “Well yes, Idon’t care, if it isn‘t so, far of! that , on can t‘oome once a week or so to see us, Messa , ; but I won't go far, now I tell you‘." »:“Well. ,, ‘w. Aggie torm‘orrow. . H henegess arose, and with an lent twist of “her head the‘left shoulder, stood] _ the doorway ,’;_7'iranm herself. . _ . , ‘ “Wne§l,"snid Ross impatiently, “well, what are ' ,éyou sitinggor Bowl" ., ‘ pl :of so}: ill! my’ibosoni; Mafise cilloss," ' .11 one 'e 111 umpe ony an upon a ’gun beginning to feel lone- ~ - me. . "‘“Ohl Ihed to otten' here. here.” ~ ‘ j also drew lgosh ’the pocket handkerchief we! ’ its embroidery and exquisite lace. mus » «have n purloined from her mistress, anda. sec- ' , 0nd Nepaleon was nested in her bosom. ,-: )“Stop,’,’seid Rose, as she was 1% out; “you said‘thet the ladywas fainting-— at he took the Child forth in his arms. Where 1s it now?" ."Eowshouldlknow? Is’pose he took thebahy She was in the back parlor. and he ' v ,med wan" , . ..,;"'l‘here he isnow. Go back mto the room, Louisa beck!” Ross seized his hot as ,spoke, and saving the slavohouse, wound thro a eve of fruit “aesthetieheltered himfrom t, on , takin ,. , esorp’entine path, came leisurely to into that. cu- ' of the garden, where he had seen Mr. Clark. he ‘ " mad men waswalking hurriedly forward, his arms ‘ folded, and one white anstocratie hand thrust into ‘ the bosom of his black dress. He was vs a, and his finely cut features bore traces of grea. uter- ? *’ ' an . He saw Ross, and turned quickly In friend' it is all over,” he said, * \ 7 V " v “It is over, him which Ross extended and wrin - ,' I mil?ng smile, full of roud ' l1, broke tl§e ’ ' , classical beauty 9 his men and hissyes ti Volumes of sufferings” , »‘ ‘ve 1* what hep ed?” inquired eta-filing ulnd turning ulmos‘tegs white as his wire! my'childx" ‘ . ’ of them? what new" - , ’ "‘"”°"“”“"“‘ ‘1‘“ “’33? Filmt’ltgdh ' ‘ r, r e r 3w sggo'suflers the .separetion r, , , . , the chin;- is use: with her!” has happened, to them. my 3'3 to’ your charge. giwill see you ' "Helikl’tsaid hrs?” ' 1 was o a. , some??? V dparting'withi “ml. '3 W68 0 ’ t—f ” and fainter from bosom. There Was somemwr this aiuful ositionl out w ‘ scam y , more? than I‘do.” y p . He sugars 4‘ wa11 do every thin that you desire. Indeed, the the l(éity stance?" _ with all his duplicity to confiitiler . with a cold and crafty i l will attendtomnietonoe. "the ‘hich, Ross dared not disturbs. in his c untenance his soul was burning with curing]: to knew thou 11 why he common sound of camege' wh din thro h the evelly soil. should'sOprofo tote 5 ben actor-t The sound grew end ‘ died sway'before another word wes‘s ken, then ‘ k turned to his false frien his nerves hitherto drawn to their most ' id tension relax and his eye met the gaze :nlgth which Ross 53$ curious] regarding him with an appeal for sympe- , that is ggggd‘hgveétfiuohedm gained!) 13p: stone. h, _ . e / r' - clings gongiiizi a; a m any , My ‘ ‘ our o no? w e where?" cried Ross} 3, feariqu excitetfo “Surely%ou hairs not sent e. . infant from its mother so ebmpitgy—and-‘eend ’ - : ‘ g3: ri13(cii;i,sultirig--I mean without orming your best V ~ “That carri ea—you heard it—bore ewe Zun- ’ ma's child!" the unhapp father, mougnfully. , pizfgg'wherehas it gone With whom is it a" e “ It is placed with one whom I the noble and childless wife of friend. Myra. will be to them as claim her agein.’,’ “ And mayI not know the inquired the false friend. “ factor is have Ion kuo" an old gnd (1:31" , an own child, till "I ‘ Fople, and the place!" ' T he child of my bene- ' own." . ' » pledged to se 1? tosecre in this. the desire of my triejnd,” repeategyMr. Glark‘IF‘ for that you should know every thing. All th eon- cealment Will soon be over; a. tow weeks and'th‘is man must be sentenced. Then Wife and child’shall * teire possession of their home before the world. In tins you can help me. I can not Well a. or in per: » son to press forward this man’s conviction, but cu. ‘ my friend, Will use ever effort to relieve me gem commonest gratitude s pressmg his patron's nervous haste in his ouldinsure thet,"saidRoss ‘ I hand, but with restless a manner. "‘Shnlllset out to:— ' 0, n0' seek your wife first‘ tellh‘er to comfort ‘7 my poor Zulimn. .I cannot see lief now; without. ‘ wishing to reproach me, she omrld not help it; I. you, Ross, I would ‘ i’i‘i‘we‘é“? ‘é‘fii‘dtt‘fémk °f " o ow er morni when’ltoo her. ‘It was the lance'of angounded fawn, as‘we I have often seeni , turned upon the hunt ‘2'." " ' “I Will see my wife at once,"r&plied Ross unable ' e rlisap u out _ him; “ entwillde ggtfgthe r; 8 trial " ,7 ng eflort to bring Groinges ,1 “It is , said Mr. Clark; “but some influ— ence, that loan not fathom seems to keep back this ** man s sentence. The court, as it: it were trifling withhis case. only to perpetuate troubles, keeps putting off his sentence from de day wig cruel nertmecity. But now: em resolved that it _ he, more prompt: this hidden influence must snd'shali be revealed." ._ . ' Ross listened tothe first portion of this speech smile playing and'd u about his mouth, but at the close-this ‘smi e'dle away, and with it every vestige of colon—his e es. wandered ra idl from object to obj avoitfi'nfi- the face of» ' » actor.~and when . Ola; . would have s ken again, he {0130533 th (19%?“ “trouble boatlghis 1) deal" I ’2 veno _ «a. u soon, e r ages; ’; ' cause-oithiwuec- i that was cons ‘ citg andmnke a s to i H \ @ o l, How-m-«uawgux l ' ' - rx . (‘2'; ' "x. ’ :-- ‘ V. l fils‘lzswsm. We)» r . . 5i ed and em, how long will you wish to stay with ‘ ’ ’ him Y ’ * - ’ l v ‘ ' that you'will I ,,bewan on m ‘ “Wemaywtsh to remain so long , ton ' ‘ ' ‘ ‘ < : A some ineonvonienee, said Ross 5 compel: 1 I w mmcea Y . “ T‘o migraend’ figsring tale heft/11116 into it. Iipgocket with 1.13}; gfim . graspea' ' that" ” l mu are e mos ngnler acts, I , - ' - » , ' ‘ ' givehggectlynamral m‘thelr “Here some. .n‘;?Accomplish this for me, Boss, and no being ever hing to re y the trouble we magmas on. «Lwa . ‘ ‘ I r n ‘ guard. The turn ey reached 1011111 hand eagerly for, "i {6“ I’dgeuéggainyggg’ be’ said the the silver coin which he supposed the, man??? "83,... ' ‘ ' r . mammost positivei ,” was the emphatic re. ‘ about to ofler‘hinl, but when he saw obligh r (it; plyf and wringing the he em Ross left the of gold glittering mhispalm, the sudden joy _ 7 his . ' n.- He met Wantin the halfi' and accosted 1183145.”ka With a 50“ 0f £03m“ fame! flame, , ; I sharp. commde have ahorse sad. face and with a. low chu Is he folded ., 1-081“. _ . , en, nestling into the inner room, he spoke a han‘i 0"”: the g0”? and Megan m rub the I y - few words, not to hiswife but to the black sether, With the “0m hem-lent“ i“ want-5001‘ é " woman, > mvand-thenhlmimltothe stable; ~asifhe thought thus to mfuse so epo n‘ V we ,, l With the sluggish habits of his race, the negro was precious meml‘mt" his 0“ “0‘” within the eel some from its swells: moieties? ism m. ' . , r ' . co en , . 4 ‘. was 1:31:18 am- wmd‘ “'1 m m * “the 23:5 sashes? w“ “m " ' r »' y “c ‘ L 8 I" Veal 9 r0 .3" g co ; , ; ’- Eplfveg thg’fii'gktgmmfiih ffio‘ifiig‘tfiénfiifi "It .wm do." w I Ross, “who? i” m“ ' .2: 0 ‘ 0W Stall t ' ling - . ' I. , , Y but ‘ ,, this ,, -ot miitfingiflfiiglésatishfgsgé “Yes.” said the other, thou httullyyfi‘tgo I _ I ‘ ; he snatched the sad e, flungic oval-the of those who would sell hisso for money. Kr . ' , horse; and sethis teethflrmiy‘together, as he buckled The man said this with the sire! one who reflect v w it” 1’" "Sp 13 owe gt}? (mi): 111:3”? 13%?” 331 math “88 0‘ molt fithim' sell an~ owe. to ye oc esscui » . oity,vo.t first in a. light camer- but the moment he had tempted; and 80 it wags:o He nit Mascot-338$- ' was out 0% slight, the high'sgirlted animal was put to he himself ' speed :53; ,3 weathers forno’ nrpOse‘ on earth no: to“ ., " the t0? 0 , and orse and men flew like barter his cum soul for the vgry yellow 9 “ lightning along the ma . ‘ a larger amount; that he'lwas ready to - . At each turn of the road Ross would lean forward man’s hart » . treachery; that ali'the' ‘ on his saddle and take a. new survey or the distance, tween 1111119811? and 1;1,16 man he tom ~‘W’ifi~&& 7 ' muttering his disa pointnlent in half-gasped sen— ljlce eaqh setuponhlsintegfity. '3 1:138 ' tences, ashe sped a one. am desplsed the lesser sincerely, and . the: “Oh, it Icould but o'vertake the carriage before» human nature 0011“ be ’50 degraded.- ' . ' ' it reaches the city! A single glimpse of it might be over the World- Those who shroud their , l . _ enough—«homing should take me from the track; Simple .and fine hnen ever do and . or will r I, ,‘ nothin not ' . He! that is it—no, only a. sugar- own with beni - contempt on those _ retold Wfigffié ydid let him keep me? I must; I will Crimes scantily 31 Poverty and rags: 80 scantilythfit . a: film; who these people are—n0, no, 1 am foiled at tilie world sees them as they are,'coaxse ,g' 77. , - ,, ~ I w . gating. . i ‘ £ , l 5 ‘ g ' This exclamation was followed b a sh check Thus shekin their heads and s1 'hing‘ over the é to the horse, who was still bounding: tel-Wm at the degeneracy of ghe human heart“ thege two archfvilr ‘ '- 4’ v A top ot_his speed. The city lay before him; but along lains enteredlhe cell 0! De Gnomes, the .3 " ' 1 .1 » _ ; ‘ I the wmdixghighway, over, which his, eye ran like leaving the omcer withoutto gloat over his 1 ‘ lightning, era was no carriage at all resembling gold- ii ’ c theonethet Louisa. had dwclibsd to him as that A tall man, pale from confinement, and yet , g which had borne her young charge away. ‘ sessedxof a. certain am of languid elegance, :1- g ‘ At a slow 6, but with his horse reek , with in thecellwriting. He looked u as‘ihe two visitors 4 ‘ former" hot speed, Ross 1- e into entered. and regarded them wit an ‘ emission at ' is . .the city. He took a. circuitous route, to his own nervous surprise. but observing that theyfiresemé counting hon held along consultation with a tlemen in appearance. am WO‘JSISN young man whom he found t ' W 11 gm! so co have, T1113 lasted sev- the chalr,i llich he all been '31; K ‘ f w-Ql‘al hours; and then the two walked arm-lu-ol'm to- 'The 0811 Boga-in“ but t"W0 Sea ' m A h, . “ ward the city prison. _ V, stood up With his arms folded, and loaning may M . i . x V . ‘ “'— 1 tion that had much graee in it against the.me ‘fj; , - ~ 7 , CHAPTER III. _ “You have comergentlemen, - _ he i . - . mmm vim-mm in a. low sod vol ' fyou have doubtless come-‘w Tkmuon the gloomy labyrinths of this prison the tell me t at the time 0 my sentence has arrived?‘ : ‘~ A women; made their way, conversing ’to other in “No,” said Ross; “that would both painful _ low voicesro turnke¥ went before them, naming and one from which we are he lama.“ . ,e. ., a tune Whitman: somatimes raising an accom- come, as friends. to ask some qu , ' panhnent “bird lawfully dashing a,- huge iron key, this Singular ease. Perhafls we mayhmet’he pom which he he one hand, against the door of some -—we certainly have the W “~40 W91”“- 7 7' fl prisoner’s cell. smilio grimly as he heard the poor “It is ’too late.” refilled the pfimm‘ggg. if! inmate spring forwar " the vain ho that some trial is oYer.‘ Why t 657 have not 5931 m ffiendhodoometobreak theg‘loom 0 his bondage, fore thisminoomprehenszble.” _ ; . ,_ . ’ 7 g; ‘ B‘rom time to time, the two Visitms seemed to study “ To yougiperhaps. butpottoufi- * 3°“me i‘ this man’s face with Close scrutiny and as some friends out do; thosewho have done something its ~, new manitestation of character bro e forth in his kee ing back the sentence, and W020 _ - manner or his song, they waldo exc ewglances- min or ;a new trial. ‘ r i ‘ ' lthat'werefull of meani‘ng. 1 ‘ ‘ _ “To what end! ’ qnesflqnedytbe Limb. if! m g: ‘1; 0381,, mm gold!” w Ross to his compan. guilty. I have confessed It. 111 the Wild ; , posed , 1 . u it is for his trouble; we can m1 .9 a passion thin: was never equaled in th _ .r 801863131? " manual-in which he mceivesjtt,‘i’ (man, I married the most oonfldingand.’ ‘ I n V ,_..m§ “931,8 emphatic but whim“ mm, mm that ever lived. The mm was Wee _. umme “mm test" ' / I r r “lite—— living wile toroedhersell . fiche paused at the entrance of a colhend Where! _ 1 heliel’edmla falsely-WW, (30-h, - -. . ' Dlaéed hiska the lock. “This is Do Grgimzes's i would not love vi , who had’wmgzoéghes a a Hp- " v , \x,’ HISLA'W-irnn ‘ ' V' g V~ as; She left me; and without her I care very little whether-it is to a Busch or a grave." “But who.th a lovec you yet? What if she I only» desired thstin this trial your right to her could be established?" ' ‘ . The prisoner shook his head. V “ I only say,” continued Ross, “it this were the case; if a new trial were granted, if there was no L lack of funds to pave the way through court, w you not, a new trial; suppress the roots of this former marriage? Might not your w e herself be rsuaded to aid in clearing you i” ‘ o ” r lied the prisoner. firmly. 3 “It could not he. y w e pursues me with that strong hate lwhich 18330111 0 baffled passion. Zulima ceased to ove me. ' “Because she behaved her marriage unlawful," said Ross. \ ' / “it was unlawful. I have acknowledged it a , and again. Zulime had nothin left—nothing ut her freedom from the man that ad wronged her to hope for. 1 would not deprive her of that.“ ‘ And it e means were before you? It you could obtain a new trial, this first marriage, you are cer- tain would be proven against you?" “i amvery certain," re lied the prisoner. ' “Remember if they! to reve the first mar- riauge, you are free forever, and ulime is your lawful w e. Is not this worth an effort?” ‘ The unhappy man clasped his hands, and for a , moment there broke through hissed eyes a luster ’ . that wggertect dazzling. , “WI, an ortl" he said. “Oh, Heavens! 1 ‘ . would die but to see her look upon me again with love for a single moment." . .. “ Then wh' not make the eflortl" v a ‘5 Because know, that Zulims has ceased to love me She is young, beautiful. ,I feel, that she has ' brought ' here, not for revenge but that herself may uttai honorable freedom. i would not raise in hand to thwart her in the just object." Elie We \men looked, unmoust at each other. ti!) Were astounded by the strange magnanimity ' o e nor. . ’ “I to you,” said Ross, earnestl ,“ this thing can be mouglétailidbout.‘ Your counsel ave seen the wit- otent‘ agent. Even your wife ared ‘ nesses. is a p 1 yields;‘_ she will no appear. You can be ole . _ gofthischsrgo; you can claim Zulimaas your lawful We. ' We pledge ourselves to accomplish all that we halier > ” ‘ “Gent omen, you seem kind and I thank you' ' but I, My that the wrong which I inflicted on th I rlhas been followed by her aversion; she me so. She is not my lawful wife; with- , out her leveoher firm, earnest love I would not solemn herif she were. All that she desires is free- dom'; that e shall have, though it cost my life in- ~ stood at a few years’ its risonment." . Bpss arose and went nto the corriddr, where he I 'cout'fersed in a low voice and very earnestly with the " turnkey. Meantime the prisoner sat down in the cingydchair, and bu ng his face. in his hands, ,' ’ to be lostin itter thought; When Ross he arose and stood u buthisiaeewas -. meta and he seemed to sugar much from the aim " Is that had been aroused in his breast. “‘ fish you are determed not to claim a new : at? ’ “I ".wasthere . . ‘ I, upgi’fi’apss is as Evin; but we are the friends 01 She suffers, she shrinks from the mic! y ,t our im risonment. This new I r ble, blilt there is another way. our ' i no tor Zu . h, t it sets her lime. that can be accom- iree. Now she would give that «you, which your self~devotlon will secure to her—- treedom. Tic-nigh De Grainges, the means of es- o’sgaewhl he prowl ed; at daybreak, tomorrow. is i t _ vessel Mfg: Europe; you must become one of her ‘ final 3% am desire asked the prisoner. t Ease byandno letter N cl musedanat onoetromthestubbornresolve self—sacrifice that had essed‘ him. , a “ She does; we are or messengers", , “Tonight-4111's is sudden! and she dew-ed it? She deems the trial thst'haa taken lace sufllcient‘ for her emanei tion from the he bonds the made her mine You are certain of this?" . “Most certain.” . x 2: 333 “511383318 “it?” 7” midnight b. ' ' ve us. ' , . That is all we desire of youfge’ ’ into the chair whi Boss had us giome a; sudden gene; ohmfi'eeddom—greedom ven ewoman o e , so wrong» . ed. Hisy nerves, hithg'tols?) firm, if?) tremble, and covaring his face with both 3, he burst into tears. When he looked up the, two strangers had left the cell. . The next morn , when Ross enteredhis count- , lug-room, he foun the turnkey with his partner. Just then Mr. Clark on also, but rth'a harassed and anxious expression at coun- chance. i , , i ' . ‘ “ friend,"seid Boss adfancing toward “ycfiy have come at the right moment to hear man’s news from his own lips. Ifear itwillgive you pain. No, I had better tell it myself; heisa stranger, and knows nothing or your interest in the matter. ,,Ste this way, sir. . z ‘;_What is si’ For what would you prepare me? ,- u min—J . “Is well, and, hecbmiug reconciled to her loss; but ,1 , De , , ,1, " 0! him, sir? whatot thatunhs man?" ' I, inauired Mr. Clark, 'sternly. ' ppy . ' He has broken prison' he escaped last ht."'. Mr. Clark ste gored. 'llhe color left his] 9; and :_ he leaned heav'fiy on the back of a chair. “ poor, I ‘ ':. poor wife! will her trials never have an end i’ he or ’ claimed with deep feeling. and, turning hastily, he,- . left the counting-room. 1" “ It will be some time before he acknowledges her a now," said Ross, in a low voice, to his partner. “ See " how his step wavers." » ' 7 “ That may waver, but his pride never will," was » the low reiply. _ , “Never ' seidl‘sm bell. And he was right. oor, poor Zulimai CHAPTER Iv. mmcnssr. ‘ .. l'r was sp -tlme in the Southnthat rich bright 7 season more! uxurious in to e and profuse in, fragrance than our warm and so low summers ever *- are. The orange trees were all in flower; carnations blushed warm and glo upon the garden banks; the was mottled wit blossoms, gorgeous and sweet as the air they brea bed. All around the, f house which Zulima. occupied was hedged in' with ‘ honey-stickies and (prairie—roses, that sheltered~the grounds and leape 11%) hero and there among the f magnolia trees, lacing hem together in testoons and arcades of fantastic ‘ - .. , . Poor, poor Zulimal W tlrthis beautiful paradise ,. to wander in with the sweet air, the warm sky, . all that world otflowers, how unhappy she was! Alene—utterly alone lwher child slop n the bosom of another; husbandhadh , way in r therei- North; an unacknowledged wife, shereaved ' parent, how could she cheese but weep? Weeks had ,hedhermtflrsther hue- nd had written every ; and with his . ’ nest of love,l against her heart, she . not wholl misera e; thinkiniofhimshesomv 1 times forg to mourntorher o lid. At first she , had been great] distressed by the impediments ' which the high at De Grasses had multiplied r against the ecknowledgmoughgf. her ' this eveuthadin'no d , r . { which that rung boa laced in the object of it! love. rly unamhi us in her desires. but int? “I will be read ," said the jowénanhf it; e , an oval” him this ” , secrecy maintained . gaseous ‘ that da mm'ztb _ Promised her to return very early from the cl V to; that would make his sweet guest smile ,1!!! hi; Th? 1: E' was completely embowered , could hear the tread oi a, pm from the , ma a gbe! “the -‘ Bub the lone! broo the o creature “firmgr, y 1!. yum: an!” missed .vwwfis‘lfié? 'Wcoiledclose eamreadytomake ales r"‘*; W * :r v ', ' .' ; 7: . "'- A , fi»\. 1 '. ‘ HisLAwFULwirnsv . v7: higher mart-la “Separated herfrorn thebabe she had earned to imemmtengeiy, maitserved as arestraint uggfl : th thi k s * across e c sw T ' es ndency, dreams and thong E refine tune crept b till noon. Awoodenflhm scarcely lifted above he water, spanned the b ‘ he!" hUSbaznd and'frequentl de rived her of Patience, bu’t with her huggingtive nature. the S ht romance of this ‘priv ‘ 0n! » served to tree ~ :18? affections more vivid an her {ancy more res [fl ,, t y e was all impulse, all feelin . and some- rd, she grew wil r and restive Weekswentb ' V , y, one after another, and now Zulima gfiw Wild with vague fears. Why was be silent? 60 We could he bewandering thus to forget her so grgrpietel 1' Her I: htswere sleepless' her 0 es you brlglt and wil with feverish anxiety. T at pm 118 heart Was in every way prepared for the son which was to be poured into it drop by drop, '3ea10’tgsg’6 “alga; most fierce and bitter of all the if; who‘re being real: forth in its might and change t6 8%,?“ had gone gorth alone, not into the garden with among its Wilderness of blossoms, but away, amo all aching heart and ale forehead, to suffer. 118' theWIl nooks of t e neighboring hollows. Here nature started to life in harsher beauty, and 9"“ forth her sweets with a sort of rude wa ward- ggfg 10min a contrast tothe voluptuous sir and fromoultwat on that closed in her home, as it were, , An the rough and true things of the world. - ,1 Other day w to be passed in that any of im- iv Once which none but those of a high y imagina- , 6 nature can ever dream of~a weary night had 1‘ Spent. the morning had c0me~surely, (surely The a letter from the absent one. oh“ I r of her 0 amber—that chamber where her cited Melept in her bosom, where he had been so w who would not wait there; all the associations were .30 ViVid, thedy goaded her on to keener im a- 6309. She coul not draw a deep breath in t t mom, thinking or him and it. d y as I have sai - Zulima. stole forth and wanv fired away where a was wild as her own feelings and a thousand times more tranquil; Ross film: a day, When he ho —the‘villain could not 100 into her We as she said it—«when ’ he hoped to brin a let- a n. _ ullma knew a place near the highway fivghich led to the city, and yet sheltered freni any traveler that pass by the broken banks of a rivulet. 0 trees fell over it, and in some places the water their branches. She ; and so, wi 3. 0 one from the ci I check that @3313 and a heart t at leaped to each .. sound, the our: creature sat down to wait! oh, hOWhax-d a. or her untamed g’pirit, her eager wishes) hover till her to ' wi 1 Mr. Clark had Zulima’s vivid nature been uliy aroused; never ore had she been capable of the exquisnte joy Intense sufl'eri hat marked every stage of t to‘tilli‘at lofty and singular man. As tea reverie that emb ‘ o , her seemed to have commenced 1‘“? since she had met him. She drew tot-chem gmmmthemagainand :tearsblinded l' Sometimes, loot shesweptthem awe with her d on, here and 1: area line . her heart. Sh is was ’s thought; she never doubted his faith or dis his honor tore s moment. When the ugresches‘a rtliitehers, it comes his { suddenly’ and a , ‘ , t 60‘ mama not us, that fierce pain a scenic ha, the, restraints that necessity had placed upon ‘ p ; half the time holding her ’mmouslin feeling; the "onl’yfelt the centinued ' that should envenom herwhole‘belng. more than, , because i once Zuhma had started from her seat at some slight sound, which proved to be only a bird rising from the overhang? bank, or} rabbit. lasing , and thus, betwgein hope, only stew yards from where, Zulima was sitting. . "3 Here the bank fell abrupt! , ' to a retty cascade halt swept y a t of willow-branches. Their delicate shade broken 1, a , with 10 gleams of sunshine t the water, to d Zulima that the time of '3 mm was fast drawing near. Now became anally . restless. Like some bright spirit, sent down to _ trouble the waters at her feet, she wandered-elem the broken bank, gathered quantities of wild demon . ‘ but to cast them away at the least noise, and [right 7 ' enin the ground-birds from their nests with reek, \ less attention to their cries, alway toning, and- slis breath with patient ‘ ion ing for something tobreakthoentlre solitude i‘tha incomp-Jssed her. » had accompa V cell——-“ with her inexperience and ‘ there is no lagging what extra It came at last—the distant treadot show—mm r." : ‘instant. Still she could not be Malian in the hoof-tread; she had heard it a hundred times when her heart was beating tumultuoust as that“ without the sharp anxiety that now sentthe blood . f om her cheek and life while she listened . Boss ad ridden her husban ’s horse to theNcity that day, and she would have been sweet hiss preach a troop of cavalry had blended its ' w. well-known tread. , r . Zulima started from her motionless attitude, and ,, springing u the bank, stood sheltered by the , willow-branc ics, waiting for Ross to pass g u ' bridge, when she would demand her letter. There LA \ shestood trembling with keen impatience, efi . 9 and t afraid of the sharp disappointment ' 7. r migh follow. ’ ‘. How leisure those two‘ horsemen rode toward , the bridge! ey were conversing earnestly, and ’ a the animals they rode moved close together-gas. if - _ , I the riders were intent on some subject to which '. they feared giving mu voice even in that . solitude. They crossed the bridge at». wag-39¢ . . i. without seeming quite conscious how it _ ' x . , the two men checked their horses close. . willows, and continued their conversation. * J; , Withonetootst lifted from the turt.rcadytospxiug£orward, ‘ * . had watched them coming but somehow 7 _ ‘ as theydrew near,andwithoutim _ ‘ ‘ allowed that eag‘er footto sink heavily on , e' ._ again, and shrin midly within hermlt'cr, elm waited with abeatingheart for the — gtbe checked, that she might come toward l on. 1 ‘ “ma!” theyhad used that Innocence; y, r ’ “We must megvey it to grad ‘1' p a ' subdued by degrees," said Boss, smoothing-them of his horse mth‘one band, . . “Yes,” repli the other—the some nled Ross on his visit to Wk he? ‘Wfi; enact; She t even start 0! gsdhsa‘tion of mintness came I. " assis‘mimtsmmtew‘ww., “He co??? m “9° 1‘83"?“ a"? “01" _ - 7:16 on it info voice 80 lowcthat Zufimafio‘nad - z ' v~ wired .r" ’ _'klmy t ‘wfllhs . tare. wil combined with such acts as lay before her, but not ' door, which 9 , ms smut m. we»... hm“ ~.;. Amen—2.. e A erwhathe'mfrom acupresdon onhh 'rn'e‘ first words that she could ish were: -“This silence has alreadydflnn er’wild; you vs a fine time of it when she hears this 30881 M a rival.” \ p ‘_‘ It may not reach her; indeed, how can it!" “ These things always reach h uarters sooner orlater," was the reply, so far as reached Zuli- ma, for that moment the horse Which Boss rode became tired or inaction and shied around suddegi‘lg; his rider with difficult secured the w h was cmsbed in his curb,- while an envelope, which ,had contained it, fluttered to the ground. . “ Let it go let it go. I have all that is important," cried Ross, 0 his com anion, who was about Endimouncmt t, and in impatient steed with The 113th they were1 bot; out of sightf Seam y one, w on ulima sprung rom her covert and the envelope. It was her hus~ bull’s writing, addressed to Ross. the post-mark PhiladelphiH herlr Zulima held letter from her husband and not to her breath; she looked wildly around, as if in search of somethin that could c this mystery; then her 0 es to to the writ. in again. Tears that seemed be fire, bed down upon the paper; her lips an to quiver, she cov- eredthefraxment of paper th passionate kisses and then wet it from her, exclaiming wildly, “Not to rue-mot to me!” Ziuime returned home that day as she had never done before. The slow, creeping pace, so eloquent of, depression and bamed hope, hat had previously her return home. was “charge: for a hur- ried trend and excited demeanor. was fully arousedto a sense of wmfig to a knowledgethat some; mystezz existed w ch involved her own In All 1‘ s ieions were vague t wertul and e ossin . mafia Ross in alight, sanding by the back- opened to the garden, and talking to his travehng companion. The conference was ~m as she came up and she heard Ross say, q 7 “Bush! . hush! she is here!” Then the two '. out and countered slowly along the garden- w , Zulima followed their ootsteps. and with ,u n the paper-hand kindle like fee ' e 't mustang wag ‘ ".3: reenter“ “a a. a... ..... ro , an n r ,er n u might burn the feelings thatgrgerehea her bosom the soul her husban . Sometimes the ' thing found tears on her cheeks, trickling down rom her *long iy‘rz‘alashes and raising over her diaper in torren twould have quenched the cry words she so lonfid to write; sometimes it found a smile parting her ps, and a learn of ineflfable affection glow in her eyes. ngeful as the storm wasthat I titul face. where the tumult of her teeli was alrittenplainly as the tempest could be upon e . Amt Zulima became wholly absorbed in that which she was writing. Her pen flew across the a- per, her eyes grew luminous with ardent ' ht. he no longer started at some new out of the storm; when the lightning flashed over her, she only wrote the faster, as if inspired by the flame. A great magnollatree near the window, with all its gamiture of leaves, its massive branches and broad white blossoms, was uprooted and hurled down up- on the house, shaking it furiously in every timber. That instant Zulima was her nameto the letter, which in all the w l o the elements she had written to her husband. She dropped the with a scream, and darted toward the window. sash was broken and choked up by a great branch of the magnolia, thro h whose dark leaves and white blossom crush and broken together, the lightning shot 6 a storm of lurid arrows. The broken lass, the rent foliage, white and green, fell around ulima as she thrust aside the massive bough with both hands and looked forth. It was com letely 11 tom, that fine old tree! The fresh earl; matted its roots, rose high in the air, drip- p with rain, and its aggaat run]: crushed the ardent-seat into mswhere, she’ and her husban had sat together the evening before his de- ' ure. Heartsick and taint, Zulima drew back, he letter to her husband lay upon the table, and near it the taper-flared, throwing a jet of flame over the delicate writing. ‘ Pale and trembling, for the fall of that old - nolia had terrified her like a , t edthe paper and directed t. ut how her hand shook;‘ the name of her husband was blurred as she wrote t, and witliadee‘g1 ' h she'took upthe seal- it in e ' the wild fire or excitement burning in her cheeks and ins-wax and held “anguished light. ‘eyes. Her hand was very unsteady and a drop or two of ,, Bee-turned to meet her. His look was calm, his the hot W 1011 u her phm and wrist burning- voice compassionate. into the delicate like a blood-Egon in her h 9 it? “6‘”. “W. - The” "8 “° Wm" lift teamed“i:¥“ihéi‘§ts‘2ii2 in em ' . ' u 1’ 0 ' .e‘N la:mrpre equestlon that hung on her T sat down}? the 100m t‘igaéthiglgrk st ., “is ‘ or to any one?” - wo weary ours e spen V , Ross looked at keen , for the hurricane haviugdoneits work oil: . mm and mh’éfi’m. goulrltth‘euyotmgsuerea-W as sudden! as it had arisen. leaving the’nfifitaldush v , tune ‘ , a , {enema sex- is that he was in correspondencewith her, h 1 She m t conjecture, but could know. Withthis thng he answered her: " “He otten all his friend, for acronym business Mr. Clar communicates wi no one. gm ' her,lips to answer, but checking herself,‘ turned awe and went to her room. Her revions distrust 01 goes was immrmed by the ' answer that he had given; orth she weaved to act for herself. There was a storm that night; the orange-trees and thethiek lime veswcre swept a hurricane that. the e a cradle. and sweeping out with he Wind m of weaver. ni ht lo the light. ning and the Wed. an camused around kindling 3? the chamber of Zulima gig! at r. mom—eat th a torrent of! 311%; titanici I Will, writing! ' WWI-lung,” en ’ gupthatwhich shehaddone, mans-l moon“ not bemade moreeloquent. s face as the limitan came in. t not . grandad likeagiantlying down to rest after When the morning came, with its sweet breath and rosy, light Zuluna arose. Hastily binding up her hair, and o gmg her dress, she took up her letter and left the house. All around-the old man- sion was littered'with vestiges of the storm. She was 0 ed to make her way through branches heavy wth drenched blossoms and young fruit; fragments of lust vines that had cast their ful shade around e dwel but a day beforegggek boughs wrenched away neign , rem the groves. and masses of torn t upon the deor-ste and alo the walk, the was . . compelled totravegse on herngpassaze to the high w G 4 ' fiercely h the ruin around her, Zulima walkedontow theefiy'herdelioateifli rs were speedilysaturated th. time that tenderly-nurtured frame and .. on. , an 0 which (1 , dedwholi" woman‘s cart and so ism an eflort. when was her ‘ hecy, Zulima -‘ fig, te-W $4 2 w . male abroad in th ~ her and w denotes or an early walk sptvshewss. , _ twasthenoisethatnouisamsd t hich ,a , egoi on w strength known to $6 way? The-old , w clock was striking hen, Zulima. entered New Odessa; a. tow negroes “ were abroad, going to or from the markets, and aroundthe wharves arose 600 sound as of a. hive of bees refuting to swarm. At another time Zulim thigh have been startled at finding herself the only white fe- e grea city, but now she onl drew the folds oi! black lace more c ly over her onnet and Walked on. With her own ds she mailed the letter which conveyed, as it were, her soul to the lid who seemed have forgotten her. A s1 Vh tromher hes the folded paper 3 d P from herhsndlnto the swnin mail-bag,end then.) wi eelmg relief y g born other own exertions, she y » ' * “Ihavetrustednoone' hewill etm letter now " she murmured over and ’over 21 diuxing her rep d walk home and with that vivid reaction so common she became almost‘he. py_in to imagine ve na that t reflection aroused life raisin. 11,! lane dimcult tortheyoungtoteelab- so ute des r or absolute resignati - th (mitotfogfiorevil old on. be mm ested, as she left it, Zulim stole back to her churnber. Weary, and yet with a heart more free than it hadbeen’ for weeks, she flung at her dampgsrments, end lyi , down, slept sweetly for an hour. Zn ‘ m that'she was sitting with her husband beneath thegreat magnolia. tree; her babe lay uponthe tur! laughi gleefully}; and. with its little hands in the air, grss after e summer insects. as they flashed over c All at once a whirlwmd rushed out, as it were, from the depths of the sky, overwhelming her with its violence. She strove to reach her child, but fell upon her face to the earth, shriekm Wildly to her husband to save her and it. Then ell upon her one of those dark, fantastic clouds that me e our dreams so fragmen: tary. She felt the m nolis. uphesve under her and scatter down the it earth from its roots till she was half buried; Husband and child both were gone, lesmggirostrate and almost dead to battle her wsfi g the storm alone—«alone! Zulime. awoke wit , these words upon her lips. I ’ ) It was but a. dream. Louisa had entered the chant- ss examining the wet garments that her _ had flung oil, muttering suspiciously to her- self as she saw the soiled slippers and other evi- umdemeaning obell dis! we s 'de missus be about!" she mu glovfinthe ttered, cas rai‘ment thnthad excited her distrust. he candle almost burned out, the drops of was on the table. torn f ts of pa r on the floor, were new ob- jects o wring-5mm etgorn perigee all writtenl upon, , n e u a an wrenched asunder. in? mi: ans a migxht get 1 combined. co (1 not read u . w negress the kcun of h ,sh w that unquic mix: errace can gain with walich these entswere conm so gathering a. . 1’8 in gerepromshe bore them to her mm from her wretched v ion. , The young creature started 11 , thanki God that itwas but a dream. In movinpg about t e room, she a preached a window ope upon thegarden just time to 6063058 follow herwompn, Louisa, into the little slave-dwelling which we described in our last chapter. . , ., Zulim. theWindow. It was half an hour before memfgrth sin; he was toigowled wom comers w _ or 33%? once: he retired walks. on after, $3,; ‘3‘ sh mwmw welcomed: :3? Ion ratings?”th e dggll ' ' dismissed. the We men com versed earnestly togethei‘..and. after a time. slowly retired into the sleve—dwellin . ” films the reviousde Zu a had grown as i. ,7 memos thesemwem terest. Well she mi ht, for that day and hour, in 1#11143 low slave-dwelling; was written a. letter des- tined to’ cast black trouble .upon her whole me; There, two fiends fashioned like men, sat down an concocted a ton] slender against the innocent yang women which was to cling around her for yam . , k which her full strength might struggle against vain. Theverymeilwhichcmied outZulimaspus- sionate and tender epistle to her husband, here also a. wicked slander framed by these two baseman. The l ' words, the endearing espressiom. thfi ad fol ed up fresh from her innermost 3% thethe might know how trul she loved him, w , jostling side b side with the endish assertion that she, Zulim Citric, had been unfaithful to his love; And these two letters reached the husband in one package lying closeto each other. He read the claw dc fl' her letter. Week after week she lived apps: that sinful hope which hs'i‘ihge upon the marrow. and 55mm mocked her. en she grew despot» “‘6' 032m “he” miszmmfiibifi‘i mm em - as news . , EggNhlet 1snowed intention of seeking her husband, in o . ‘ ‘9 Let her o," said the. fiend, coollypfoldi the letter she left behind. ‘f The mail humanism than she can' myprettybird shall find all things prepared for her coming.“ ; < Again Ross sat down sndwrote-to the otulimn, - himthstshefled' at night to escape the vigilen' been placed upon her actions. The letter destinauon and performed its evil work. i husband tromhishomo fits CHAPTER V. - LITTLE urns». ~ ‘ - ZULniA had taken e for the N hurdle brig must lie at its wh a tow be them- happy you creature was tar too see {croone- flnementin e close cabin. A earning desire messes seeders... me e 0 can on an hgdr child’s residence had been intrusted to w 7 she had found means to see it - r time to time, before henhnsband’s dc when she was oing in praying God to less her mission; by these een desires, Zulim hgifiend drawxng' down her v on 0 was in the suburbs and she was the city. With a. quick step she th ingvher child before the brig was ready to sail. . - as it fate orwss it that sublime intuition that hole to the tun. essenceinhernature ferns ' this beset! ‘ biplanes: ung mo rpsssed ' dent she looked eagerl thro h the 1 new ’ polled her a: .entgrg‘ .ms something has . A of b6 that exhaled ' bro httears-tohereyés; she fielt than ’ ' gremlins. ,. , she wandered on. forgetful or herpuiposem red °= “ Wainwrnmmwm {wiggle slabs, eat em. her veil- to Mt» I \ rs . . _ . gimme waited, but no answer ever came to ‘twatchwhichhsd' reached orspm' toeoetth; on . ’4 Wm ’ a. throws scar: around 7 ewOrlenns. The house w ere her child lived . - ed to aces ; theatres”, , ~’ heedless‘ot observation and only desirous of reach,- y Piling? “83" °‘ “it? “flashy. : ew esns w seem B) eternity t a of flowers? It have been the strange i , limes we we and sweeping. “0 v the “8°”! 051,52?“ pd‘glon logs- from guns ",3; 72’ , , km; W 3 . ., 11 her order of feelings, whichfid ’ ' jg mesmerizing-m ” ” me("perfume from p ‘ nndmteredtheinclesum' ' ‘ grid. and ' ‘ v a tomb which she had mounted to 10 -‘ HISLAWFUL tombvmne listlesst passing her anger through the deeply-cut letters. ’ r ' It was an infant‘s tomb. A child eighteen months old beneath the marble. Eighteen months—that was» 'age of her child, little Myra. She started up. It seemed as if her weight upon the marble could ure the little else r. Carefullyl drawin the on7vine over the s 0 again, s e turne awayand was about to de art. ut that instant there camo'bounding along t e vista of a neighboring walk a young child, evidently re oicing. over its es- cape from some person who m ht have controlled itsactions. In. and out through the flowery lab - rinth it darted its chestnut curls floating on t e wind, and its blue sash, loose at one end, sweepin I the tombs at every turn. The child at last, felt e - dently quite secure from ursuit, for, leaning for- ward upon one tiny foo , she pgered roguishly through the,branches and burst in a do r rin ing .lau ii that sounded amid the tiliness liket su den gusiof a fountain. . ‘ - Through and through Zullma’s heart rung that silvery out: eye, lip, and cheek lighted u to £9 sounl” d; she reached forth her arms—“ yrai ~ he child heard her name and turned like a start- led fawn still laughi but afraid that the black muse had found her. ‘ hen she saw only a beauti- _ful woman With eyes brimful of tears, and out- stretched hands, the laugh fled from her lips, and fixing her e brown eyes wondering! on the strange face for a moment, she drew tim ly toward the tomb by, which Zulima stood. . , “ & childi, my own dear child!" broke from the ii that youn mother, and sinking “upon her kneeshséhe snatch the little girl to her bosom, cov- r lips and forehead wi h kisses. V “ ’ on love me? Myra, do you love me?” she ', cited, iding back the face of the infant between both her trembling hands, and gazinngondl on a through her tears; “ Do you love me, yra?‘ I, .: Atfirst the little girl was startled by the assiono 'ate tenderness of her mother, and struggle to get a _ {mm the bosom that heaved so tumultuouva against her form; but, as the touchincgficgy for affec~ ,tion broke from Zulima's lips, the l ceased to “Wis, and lifting her clear eyes with a look of we erlng pity, she clogged her little hands over her media’s neck, and to or trembling lips pressed that little rosy mouth. “Don‘t my soul do love youi" lisped the child, in h sweet imperfect language. , These getty words no ocked a flood of. tender in e mother’s heart. She arose, with the val inher arms, and sat down upon the tomb. Smiles, now broke thro 11 her tears, and duri fifteen «minutes it seem to Zulima as if she 1 passed through that place or tombs into paradise, seaweet was the love that flooded her heart with 7 A, 113 tone‘of her child. But for the poor mot , _ was no lasting-happiness. , 1e her .m::: ,was full of these sweet maternal feelings, » there came tearing through the shrubbery a negro "womn, panting With haste, and shouting in acoarse voles the name of little Myra. ' . . “We must part, my c ildl” murmured Zulima, filming pale as the woman caught sight of her char e common a -~~aew of the grounds, and with a de ree of self-com- mand that was wonderful even to rself, she arcse ‘ séid'it'sm" “lam” l”’cried the egrc/ ' . -. ‘ re 11 s ‘ upmai?little yl and kissing her with as lessee of eagerness 1; made" poor Zulima , Wm‘mdwmt should I have done if you had been :rm\flW1& to get awa , and held out her 'arms to Z ma.“ How palet e poor motherwasi - kled though at this proof- of fondness and her from the woman, she , V leadin hera little way off, dim down with ahand u u t one brightringlevs, and oolled‘down a b ‘irom God unon her r daughter. Ah! these blessings, what hol; things they are! The sunshine they pour forth, ow «cer- ' tain itis to flow back to the source and flllit with brightness! If “curses are like chickens , that alw come home to roost," are not blessings liket e ringdoves that coomost tenderlyln the nest that shelters their birth? For many a day. while. 9 tossed upon the watea Zuiima was the happier for v having seen and bless her child. ' CHAPTER VI. IN ran Toms. » 11' was near midsummer when one of the city post- men of 'Plnladel his entered a large warehouse in the busmess E of that city. He approached the principal des with a bundle oirpa rs and letters on one arm, from which he drew a le letter bear- ing the New Orleans post-mark. A young man who stood at the desk wri lug what appeared to bebusi- ness notes, of which a File, damp with in lay at his elbow, took the 1e ter, and thrusting ' ‘pen back of one ear, pre red to open it. There was an appearance of grea , even slovenly haste about this is r. The paper was folded unevenly. The wax had-been dropped 0 on it in a rude m and wasi rough] stamped wi h a blurred impress n which it won d have been woult. to make out. The ad- marks of roughhaste. The young merchant broke open the seal With some trepidation for the si - lar appearance of the letter surprise him not a t- ile. eread half a dozen of the first lines, then looking over his shoulder as if afraid some one mi htsee that which he had read he turned his bac to the desk and was n who ly absorbed in the contents of the epistle. he turned over the page, you would have seen the color gradually deep-' on u n his cheeks, and even flush up,to the fore- ]: as if there was something in the epistle which did, not altogether please him, After a little he folded the letter, compressmg his lips the while, and fell into dee thought. The servxce which this letter ‘ re uired of n was oue against which ever honest fee ' of his heart revolted; but his worl pros- pects, hopes of advancement in life, all depend- ed upon the writer. Ross had been _hls friend; had placed him in the Philadel hla branch oil's. mat commercial hgggekandto wartone oi hlB,W hes mi ht rove a u 0 mm. « oss « omitted nothing in that epistle that could persuade or reason into wrong. It was doubtful, he said, even if Clark ever had been married to Zulima; or, being so if he would not deem it a good service in his friends to relieve him of the obligations im- posed by that union. . Bitter and cruel werethe ac- cusations urged against that poor yo , Wife; and with his interests all with her enemies, clued to a lively desire to think ill of her in orde to ,ustify _ his conduct to his own heart, this weak , cruel manylelded himself to become the tool of ,a deeper and far more unprincipled villain than himself. Again and again he perused that letter, and at length put it carefull away in his breast-pocket, close to a heart which ts evil folds were doomed to , harden against the secret whispe of a con-1 science that would not be entirely hus ' , Pei-ha 3, had James Smith been given time tor alter re action, he might have been shocked with V ‘ i the art that he was called upon to arm; but" the otter which 0 ened this wicked so cum to him 2 had been delays and carried in a wrong ion ‘ by the mail, and nearly two weeks had beenthus lost after the time when it should have reached him. Smith had scarcely turned from his desk. with the evil letter in his bosom, when another man entered the warehouse and placed alittlo roan-tin note In his hand, A vague idea that this now some connection with the slov epistlo that he bad Just 3 read took possession of h In. before he broke the “ti ” of ale reen war that scaled it, . e cogjectgure' proved real-Zullma had written that note; She was in Piuladeiphia, and horn] _ * thrown her husband‘s aroma tones; some news of _‘ dress was blotted, and every thing about it: here , \ h...— ‘ glam. Smith had no time for reflection; he was call- r I upon to act at once. He went to the hotel where lulime was eta . Smith entered the hotel bar. fledi as one who a sinful task to accom lish and gishesit over. Reeves not villain eno to ' Ictwlth deliberation, or with that crafty 00 11888 which fitted Ross so singularly for a domestic con- ! lrstor; : When he found himseltin the presence of t is helpless oung mother; when he gazed u on hxheaut mined, it is true, by all that she ad ! red, gut obtaining thereby a soft melancholg What was far more touching than the glow of yout in its full joy can ever be— is heart smote him for the no it had meditated against her. He sat down by or side, trembling and almost as anxious as she was. ' ‘ “my-husband?! said anima, turning her eloquent eyes upon his downcast face; “ know Hm, sir—- ', he is our friend tell me where he is to be foundry \ ‘f our husband madamllof when; do you s ski ’ 7“ gr gurgdhggilel Clark—«your benefec rand us " ma. .mxbsnialoi lad r” ;“I wish to see him—I mnstsee him—tell me where he into he found.” Zulims'wss breathless with im- la- eyes brightened, her cheeks took was ete , ‘n that satin? u—y Ou ladyhet‘fishvgnnt Smith wi h him the last tinyxe llige was here?’ said agiégcegl‘dlng his eyes to the floor and faltering in “ Yes, I went with him-12 washis wife!" Smith shook his head; a faint smile crept over his month; he seemed todoubt her assertion. ' ’lna saw it, and her face kindled with indignant passion. “ I am his wife!” she said. . “The mmiage-wasuit not secret? was it not almost without witness? \ . 7 yes; but not entirely without witneS'ses. I can prove my marriage." ' “You can prove that some oeremon .took lace- but can on prove that it Was y p ' srealmnrrlsaecere- it ndeedfi‘have you never'had reason doubt wassne " . r “ Nevgr, sir," replied Zulima. turning pale, never ‘ ~ . ' ‘ “ You wereve oung very confidin " lied smith. “ Yet yell-i, h’sd ' some experighoe in the pet-gist at man; this should have made you cautious." m “111,3; gxi lencelithsdhbeeg bigter~t§rzihg§iW ur u ummcaSpi“ or cases 13* on the face of her Visitor-filth a look of wild men ' “And yet you trusted nl“ . “ gallons stood up; her grew white as death. you mean to say,'sir,'that my husband-4h“ Dahlia} Claritfodeceivggmme like thgdotshergl’; “ mi “mean seyn'rrel mi°nong save that trommy heart if pitypyou, sweet lady. 80 1:310:11 beauty, so misting; who could help pitylng y u 1 . y me? 0 Father of mercies l" cried the “(giggling- creat%. bending like a‘ mfimtglais- , or e es; ‘ s 11 should be truei" She fell upoga chair- her slighgt figure waved to and fro in the agony of doubts. “ Has he written—did he send oryoul" questioned Smith, steeling himeelt against her grief. “No nol". “ Is he aware of your ,9! “No: I shall s so um; leshedto surprise him!” cried the 001 young creature. dropping , ‘ QEmdfimdygm sin-pales him, and unpleae ' oufinla turned-her dry eye-upon him , parted, but she had $30“? t0 utter the (it estions that amen in'her h - A. thousand blac doubts possesaed her. “ Why—Why?" It was all she could th hem t - he was reluctant to consummate last note! reqm’red of him. It seemed in? HIS, LAWFUL‘ WIFE. :herlips' u 11‘ - ._....i i-......_.‘...y,.v..,.._. .. _ down a lamb while its soft tmeting films fifedu nhis. Blithe had ganémo far, m39133It‘ll-3f»:ores;i"a hgogidw it is rumored that in. Clarkis soon who married!“ r Asort of sgsmodic smile Zulima’s , ' ugh. She di not till her w to teeth shone V Etptzmpt to speak, but sat perfectly still gazing upon tor. , _» hql‘lfi'igl your marriage mu goal, Mr. Clark would u comlm se . , no: thugrgpe . Clark?” said Zulima, sharply, and V starting, as iffrom adream: A , Y “He is in Baltimore now. ’ a I I ‘ “And—and the lady?” I / , v , “She too isin Baltimore. " . “ dI—fdvgiifu god‘s?” high! on know?“ ‘ V ‘ “ an ter w c -. “fiotlhiese things are on will have them from the lips of my—or Daniel L rk. It they are not true—oh, Father of He’avenlthen Win his Wife he down anfigiie at his feet-die of sorrow thatshe has ~ on ’ 0vanier dth was startled; he had not anticipated thés resolute strength in a creature so oungead chil - like. Did she see Danie 0 the He attem ted to lan, but this seaweed! excited her suspicion wit out in the slightest degree changing her. Allth swer she made to his argn- ‘ f m 533%,. husband;. I must have mo of ese things' i ' ' ' D Smith would have ed his objections further, but they were interrupted. The room in which th‘edy set was a arlor to which others might claim - 1 mission. st then the door opened, and e gentleman entered with the easy and , an air of an old acquaintance. He cast salesmen at seemed surprised by the temble agitation so visib e in her face, and then fixed hispenetratlng eyes searchingly upon Smith. her . e «in r f‘You donot seem w " hesald, up ,' lelima, and Smith oomgn’detect that mmfi‘fi which ought to have startled Zuhma before. ‘ “Has anything gone amissi’fland he , -a stern look on Smith. “I am not well!” said her eyes. ' H b tmede orgy“ up u no answ . « The oung aniooked distressed ' boatload n' ment ore 1gamma, and then w tow ' a window, began to drum on the. 7 his fin» gers, now anzcl then casting furfiveglances tome th“I_ don’t h‘rliow,"she e ourney one." v “ our health seems deli youare so urged ‘Smlth,” readgfi u may thllllat gig-e would’ edv‘by l fpllam young-— am notwellA—butléhsll she answered, With gentle amass 1 01:93 man at the Window seemed EM!“ “new “three. “9 m e , . en] . im ‘utience. Smith observed tmsandsmil’edquiefiy Wit 1in himself, as hawent out. Zulimn new a ; she only knew re wee very: m tailored; “ml hesitate n‘ ca § t seem thanill— mom its.“ - \ Zuii’mfl‘eee in?“ with a mum { sofa w and Smith were . ' ~ ' Smith arose to go. A new loam light had broken upon him. He saw 311% more, than that fated you creams hadeven at. “ hen mu are stemmed to undertake 12W jeweyxg’.’ said, inflow voice. a _ s . es ,, “ When will you set out” ‘ “Tomorrow!” _ r v ' “Alone!” , r m Zulima unconsciously glanced toward the y man; hehadbcen very ndtoher.audlt 2 hard to start of! utterly alone. Kan ‘ lip you, talk thiswaalzo me. Icannotb‘e‘ar A » forever.” 12 I a 2 its LAwFUL'WIFn. watch and casting her arms over the back or ~v the sofa, uried her taco upon them andfigroaned in v bitteraug'uish. ' I ' I 'anima was so lost in the ony or her feelings . fiat algebditlll notifienowsvghen t e young man of . mse y er s _. ewas uite unconsc ous roach till her hand wasfin g her name in tones that made her nerves thrill from head to foot; Tenderness had given to that voice an intonation startlingly like the low tones of Daniel Clar prémd nature. a 1 , 6 started, an ooked wild] at the, on man her hand trembling in hmherfiigsfaxéd 1289. half smile—the delusion had not quite e t her. . ‘Zuluna, what is it that troubles cu? Oh, if you-only knew, if you could but guess. ow—how it A wnn my heart to see on thus! What has the man u saying to woun you i” “To wound me?” repeated Zulima, recovering from the sort of dream into which his voice had cast her, and drawing her hand away. _“.0h, everybody says thi , to wound me, Ithinkl” , ‘ But never have.” ‘* No, I believe not," replied Zulima, listlessly; “ I “#331110”, will," edth ding never urg e young man, regar her with alook of deep tenderness. " I don’t know," was the faint reply, and Zulima’s I ' taco fell back on her folded arms again. the 1mg manarose and began to pace up and down eroom; many a change passed over his features meanwhile, and be cast his eye from time -‘ to ‘ tithe upon the motionless figure of Zulima, with _' ression that revealed all the hidden love, the , wild evotiOn with which he regarded her. [He .. .down again and took her passive hand. She did not attain? to‘withdrawrit. She did not even seem to know batit was in his. I “Do - ou know how I love yon—how, with my whole 9 and stren h, I worshi you, Zulima?” he said. “There is not 'ng on cart that Iwould not i ' ' r ' do, bandit give you a moment’s happiness.” éulima slowly unfolded her arms. and lifting her head, looked earnestly in his face with her eyes. She r didnot seem to understand him. v . . t ‘ «“Qh, you must have seen how I love you,” he said, passionately. ' . ‘ ' smiled-«iii, whatamocki sm11elhowtull of wild anguish it wasl “Another-l ' she said; “so ' hear another loves me." ‘3 . “Ho human being ever loved as I love you, Zuli- , ma,” said the young man, in that pure, sweet voice, ' which had so airected her before . “ That is a marve " said Z with a bitter smile. “ Others have oved me so w You do not know how others have loved me."_. _ “ [do not wish toknow anth ' except how 1 can '. make you'haggier than you are, ulima." ’ 4 * .“ It you wi to make me happy, do'not even men- tion love. to me again. The ve word makes me , rant," said Zuli‘ma. “I am ill~ suffer. Doiagt. I “. will say nothin§ t can distress you," replied the young man gent y but with a look of grief. . , reached forth her hand. It wasco d and trembling. “ Farewell!” she said, very kind ; “I shall go away tomorrow. ,Farewelli” ' . He would not release her hand. . s. . / ~ “You are not goin far—you will returnin a tow (hayst Promise me you are not saying farewell ~ ' “I do not know—the Father in heaven only knows ‘ _ whatwill become of me; but you have been kind to . mgr-every. You have respected my unprotected lot. '- You did not knowhow wrong it was to love me. I . _,blame you. When say farewell thus, I much fear that t is tothe only true friend I have in . the world. You could not wish me to feel more re- than I do. Isit not casting away all the unsel- _' ‘ ’ h kindness—all the real friendship that I have known for a long, lonfidtimei” / , . ’ “Buttlm love-41115 olatq. rather,"nerslstedthe his, and his voice . m it when love most softened his his seat, drove rapid] young man; “must itbe forever hopeless? Shall I ain?" ' . r rongfigtherefo‘re should be be e ' ” rev “You donot knovnv tron loit wonldbrlng upon you.” - ’ , _ u?'v'Vhy wronglu-why should it bring trouble upon 6 9 “Should we ever meet ,again, you will know. Everybody will know why it is wrong for you to love me. NewImust go.” ‘ > ‘ drew awa her hand, using a little gentle force; and while t 6 young man wasstrlvingo’to fathom the meaning 0 her words, she opened the door and disappeared. ‘ . Every way was poor Zulima beset. The false posi- tion in which the concealment of her marriage had filaced her, made itself cruelly felt at all times. She ad taken a long journey, alone and entirely unpro tected. Young and beautiful—to all a pearance single—she was natural ex osedto all those atten- tionstthat a creature 508,13:t I sure 0 receive, even ag erwill. n‘ ‘ 6 out: man whom she had 'ust left, those attentidns grating- ally took a degree 0 tender interest which, but for her state of anxious preoccupation, she. must have observed 1 before, as others less into , ‘ a ,, not failed to 0. But she had literally given t e de- votion so ageparent to others, no thought. Knowing herself to bound by the most solemn ties to the man who seemed to have forgotten her she never reflected that others knew nothing of t 'or that she might become the objector affectionate, nay, plassignate regard, such as the man had justrde- c are . ' . Now it only served to add anothegfang to the bit- terness of her grief; heart-wound , neglected as she had been it was not in human nature to be oth- erwise than flattered and ve, grateful for devotion ‘ which soothed her pride which in its possessor was innocent and honors. 1e. But even these feel- ings gained but a momenta hold upon her; they were. followed by regret an that shrinking dread which every new source of excitement is sure to oc- casion where the heart has been long and deeply agitated. She went away then with a new cause of of added to those that had so fatally oppressed Gr. . ' . CHAPTER VII. 1 A momma. WEDDIRG. , ZULnu reached Baltimore in the night. Wen with travel and faint with anxiety, she took a cone at the sta e-honse and went in search of the hotel where she earned that her husband was. lodged. As she drove up to the hotel a private . . e stood at the entrance; a negro in livery was 111 the seat, and another stood with the carriage door in his hand, watching for someone to come down the steps; the door opened, and by the ht that streamed tin-on? , . Zulima saw her husban richly dressed as if or some assembly. One white glove was held loose in ' dwith an embroidered ope-race , which he put upon/hishead as he came quicklg down the ate mine was breathless' she leaned from the win- dow of her hackney-ooac , and would have called to him aloud. but her. tongue clove to her month: she, could on gaze. Wildly on him, as net touching the ' step of his carnage with one foot, e sprung lightlv in. The door closed with a noise that went through Zulima‘s heart like an arrow. She saw the negro flashed Spring up behind the ; the Y her ey and while every before her, 311;: man herownhum . hack, hadopsned‘ “No,noIdonotwishto "maid. int-‘ i tows. the receding her digger. ‘ cunt again and follow thatcarxiage.” The man hastily closed the‘doorrand mounting (after Mr. Clark": ,mga lulnna was now wil with excitement; the blood seemed to leap through her heart—her cheeks burns edlikeflre. Shemped forbreath. when suit-n in «. the streets ook those carriagelamps an instant from her sig . t V The came in sight of a fine old mansion-house, standing back from the street and surrounded by . tall tree ‘ an aristocratic and noble dwelling 1t wasi wilshtheslights gléaming thro h its Windows, an rare old trees curtaining ts walks with their , branches, now gilded and glowing With the es of light that came throuih Windows. The use was evidently illum . “ party—fine of ttgse pleasant airliner. artsgshthat 'mhalf venin eo n air. ew am oh branches that curtailing like stars ale the V “‘9 house. an glowed here and there through a arbor, or in a clump of bushes, ust light enou h to reveal the dewfy green of the ob- gs witheu breaking the qu et evening shadows at lay around them; * . Clark's carriage stopped noble mansion. and Zulima saw him pass light into the doc , old-fashioned pertico while her was ye a block oil. , 4 I get out, here?" said the coach- mafi. going sin to the door; “the carriage that yourordefi-gldgoe to follow does not seem to be going i 3: know, I " said Zulima; “not now; I will wait.- Drawoir the opposite side ot the street, The man e a in no 5 v Wmfiumfise at or at 01s def!» but drove back to the s o ' greet ant? waitgd, standing by the - “3’ Side of the hone who learn ad any further digggi a figment, _ ons . Zuhma heat from the window; she was to “£1- tated and her voice trembled. , v“ Whose house is this?" she said, hurriedly. The man told the owner’s name. It was one cele- brated in the history of‘our count ' and Z a re- mem red with a pang that the ahghters of that house are among the most lovng and beautiful ,women of America. Smith had :1 her that her hush was about to be married. Was it in that Metal old mansion house that she must search for MW 7 How her cheek burn ow her lip trem- bledfiAs s e asked herself the question! ’ s - you know," she said, addressing the man; “did you know the gentleman who just went in yonder?" ' “ 11' yes. eve bod here knows Mr. Clark,” said them '1‘? well enough where his carriage was driving to, when it started from the hotel. He is going to marry one of the young ladies; at least the papers so. so." I . » Zulima drew back to the carriage; it seemed as if she would newer breathe again; she sat like a fam- ished bird, gazing on the house without the wish or 90%;? to mm,st to be i rt bled i re seem a e assem ; a?ny dressed people were wagmngfy gliding before e'window and she could see the gleam of rich wines and lung of fruit, as they Were home to and fro by the at ndants. Sometimes a couple would saunter out intothe dee old poi-tico, where she could see more distinctly ythe wreath of colored lamps, testooned with tnmipet—flowers, roses‘and honeysuckles that fell like a curtain overhead. Zuli: ma saw one couple after another glide into the flowery recess, and awag'again, as if the music that came pouring through core and windows were too exciting for a prolonged tote-arms. Still she kept here es fixed upon the spot; she was certain that Mr. (‘flark woul be time those who haunted that flower nook, so like a clan of butterflies, She knew histastes well. Sure eno h,.while her e yes were fixed on the open door. t rough which t e back‘ ground of! the rtico was flooded with golden lightz she saw Mr. Cg‘k come slowly down e hall. no » aloneaoh, how she had hoped for thee—but with a mum woman leaning on his armmleanin heavi- l‘rwith that'air of lanmxid dependence w ich so '- often max-ks the first-do lopment of passion. His was bent, and he med‘to be addressing her ‘ in‘alow voice; and then h he smiled while speak- Zulima . could see t at in reoose hisfaoe was, ad all the ’ ated for» ms LAwruL wars. ' , is._ Ve, almost sad. It onl lighted up when those Effie blue eyes were, lift toward him. They sat down in the portion, and seemed to converse earth estly—ten mimxteswhalf an hour, and hours-4h 311? did the two sit'side‘by side under that can . 09., g ignted blosso and then Zuhma could w a h faintness crept. over hen them no longer; ea and in a dull, low voice 3 asked'the coachman to drive her back to the hotel. I Poor Zulimal she hoped to see her husband niche in that portico, if it was 0 long, how patiently had she waited, and that beauti- ful woman never left his side for a moment. Itewas . cruel. v 1 . hen Zulima left her room early the next‘morn- ing she found Mr. Smith, who seemed to [have just left the stage-coach. 'She knew him at once. and he recognize her with great cordiah ._ " ‘- ‘ “ I have come,” he said, in a low, fries “I have come in hopes of seeing you thh r. He is in the hotel. I hear." h “ He is.” said Zulimax “ I saw him last tl’ Mr. Smithétsxhrned palie; butlthem a cop de- ession in ' ‘ma’s vo ce an m , V ‘ fired him the interview could not have been a happy one, tohleeave thatt c‘hetgg 1:28 hueless, me eye so ‘ v —- was no e r . a I he‘c‘llysaw him “ sai’d Zulima, “ but he did not know it; to-day, withinanother hour I shall know why he. has’treated me thus; tell me , ow I can gets mes- sage conveyed to him.” ‘ p, ,, I will convey it; I will your cause." A - V6 “Only tell himI am here; want no-onelto ,. o ' for me with Mm. Only do that, and I win W33 much.” ‘ , ' , I ~ \ “ I will do that, and more,” said Smith, be ‘. , What influence was it that kept Mr. ' wakeful on the night when Zulimyhh ale beneath the same roof with himse w nearing-of her presence—he felt uotthe bitter tears that almostblistered her pale checks, as she tried to stop thinking of him—the Bolas that shook her trams till the be trembled under lit—none, of an reached his ear. ‘ the love . oun being who had huh: _ A arm, andlgagbesige him in that flower—lit ' a short time before; her beaut ‘h ’ bung wife, , his time which was so often spent in , oughtasinco h hadb toreoei th ltters ‘ Bound yield crge‘hloe to th:8 e e ‘ '- Ito wie She had—fled now—hen from his friend’s to obtain V . v om, and escape the vigilance ct thoseghad 7 .5 Sliced about her. Thus ran the last letter that rk had received from his friend. ' ' » Clark read the letter over, after he returned home that n ht, for something seemed cons pstantlyw F of Zulima; he drive“ '- her from h In ad. It seemed tohim esteem " reat mistake had arise otters of his friend this letter agai amb n, arigh . No; when n it was clear one was there. noun-f tolove him,‘ ,she h fled. , something at his, heart that would not be appeased; the mysterious of thk wfittellil? ' ’ was thus she had tten him an w while under the terrible influence epistle. He began to ~t' now, had at least seen the contents of his friend was dispassionate, just—w]: report bedoubted? a to It evi from lgm byaestmngtlgeuseof u .hfi .lark it thatn t- better angel" was abroad. Eulima, too, was“?1 'wee' ’ tgfhlflftgefik Wish: at that " the same roof; he knew it not, but at ligde not. sleep 3 In the morning Smith came to the dumber were“ , a. us , nly for one minute. HOW " voiceé-g' Clark. , re rte - t ‘ o fthe estrangement and 3' asif hehad notreajd the sod norm . ted hiswif hi3, denim: trees» ‘7‘ I ? Heknew It was not any of ‘ ' .L. , m :p:-.:‘; I I her conversation had whiled awgy amlittle " that , 7 I x presence can ' ‘ creature seemed to haunt his room, haunt the 91% ‘ most chambersothisheait' hethor tottheietter. T x we - “fighad- , ed k, ‘3‘; i ’ gum-saws ‘14, Mr. Clark was sitting end; he seemed ill at ease. _ '“ I thought it best to come and bring this news to I you 31:?“ it might save you from great embarrm men .’ ' i ' . ’ “ What newsi—what embarrassment?” said Clark, whohad no idea that Smith knew anything of Zu- or her connection with him. “ Surely nothing hasgone wrong in the business?” . ' . “ ; but. the young lady who says she knew you in New Orleans—that she has claims upon on 1” Mr. Clark turned deathi white; this su den mon- tiouof his wife unnerved im. ,, “ ‘ ‘.‘ And is she in Philadelphia—where is she l—how came she to find you out? “I do not know; she sent me a note, and I Went to her hotel.“ ‘v‘ Was she alone—was she aloner’guestioned Mr. Clark, starting up. “No, not uite alone,” replied Mr. Smith with a meaning ‘ e; “I saw and one person with her, a young and, remarkably han me man." Mr. Clark sunk to his chair as if a bullet had I thro h his heart. f‘ Go on," he said, aftera moment; “ go on, I am listening.” “This lady. sir, seemed determined to see you; she came on here-robe is now in Baltimore. ” “ And her companion?” said Mr. Clark, with a ghastly smile. ' , ,“No.” replied Smith; “I think she would not do that. She Wishes to see you; I do not know what her object is.” , {‘1 will not see her- I will never see her age " said Mr. Clark, and his face looked like marble. “It she needs aiiiiything, sup 1y her‘ she is, sir, the ‘ mother-of my oh ‘ she is——- ut I wi not talk of it; let her want for not lug—she is my wife." at breakfast. His face we: V,“ You will notsee her then?” “lie, it is one h." Mr. Clark rung the bell—a man entered; 5' ave my carriage brmfight up at once I Shall moot for Washington. r. Smitle you know how to act. Save me from a repetition o _ ~ fl; you see how it tortures me. I' loved that * young creative-I thought, tool, made thatlwas wbotpshe adorned to love me." Mr; 0 V went into another room; he could not endure t other eyes should witness his emotion. The Coachman now came up: his proud master ‘ 1mm. that everything was ready. and without speaking sword, left his apartments. He ste‘pped , age; he was gone—gone without ear- ' lug wild shriek that broke from the lips or that ’ {0 -wife, who had ca ht one gim so of in). re , V or window. She 5 00k the sas ; she - strove to call after him; but her arms trembled—her '- voice was choked; with all her emort she made but little noise'. those in the next room heard nothing of it, on {as heavily on the floor. Mr. Smith ‘found her there, Then his heart smote him—then would he have van 3 worlds that the falsehoods which bro ht this . ~ 1'niiserigiad not been uttered. He had ed to think a in of _ 7 victim, to believe that betwaen her and her husband there was neither love nor syn thy- how had the last hour undeceived him. atfdaened doubt and jealous , his benefactor hadnot even a tem‘ted to ooncea the an uish 0008810l'l6d. by what edeemed the perfldy 0 his wif.‘ and she—- was she not there, cold as marble, whi as death, prostrate at his feet? . ‘ . But, he could not go backwhis evil work must be fully accomplished“ now to shrink or waver, would be to expose ii lying like a corpse rigid'and insensible '- imse t; that he could not contem late v for a moment. ,Zulima became sensible. atlas ,. I It one long time.’ but flnall she opened her eyes and sat 1 'He is gone,"s e sai , lifting her heavy m “ he is gone without a word of expla- , n i r " S" not Wishto say face to face with his victim? He has ‘ deceived you with a mock marriage I knew that it “k ', would prove so.- You are free, you are wealthy, it i , "you choose. Beresisnedzthere s noredress a‘éwfint can he explain, but that which he would J ms LAWFUL WIFE. ‘ 2/ " No redress!" Zull'ma re ted the word over and over again. “No redress I thought myself his wife: I am the mother of his child; h God! Myra Myra, my poor, poor ohlld—” F They were parted—Zullma solemnly believed that she had never been the wife of Daniel Clark, that she was tree—oh how cruelly free-«and another loved her. Wounded in her pride, broken in spirit, outraged, humiliated, utterly alone; was it strange that e poor torn heart of that young creature at length became grateful tor theaflection that her ' grief and her desolation had excited? ‘ She told him all, and still that young man loved her, still he boo sought hex-to become his wife; and she, unhappy w(Bl‘rhmn “BEBE? secrecy rivate aniag ere was no -no in ' e now; in the full blaze of daynroberd in satin, gloss and white as the leaves‘of a magnolia, her magn' -4 . cent tresses bound with white roses, her bridal vail looped to the curls upon her temple with a snowy blossom, and falling over her a cloud of summer mist. us went Zulima Clark forth to her last bridal. It was a mournfnl sight; that you girl so beautiful, so fated, standinghe- tore he tar her large eyes sat-charged with sor- rowful remembrances of the past, and her poor heart heaving with awild presentiment of coming evil, till the rose upon her bosom, and the pearls upon her throat, tremb ed as if a wind were passing over them. It wasamournful, mo ' wedding' for there Zulima, the wife of Daniel 0hr sealed the perddy of her enemies. Beautiful , innocent woman, thine was a hard destiny! CHAPTER VIII. men: so not. ‘ Zonnu made her home in the South, and there also, after years of wandering, came Daniel Clark~ wear with encitemen and unhappy with a sense .0! hi ter lonehness. In t e flrstmoments of hisa or against Zulima, he had made his will, giving all is vast ons to an aged relative, an we false friends who had caused his misery executors oi‘ that will. And this was the doc game for which these men had staked their souls-— ese ossessions and the control over them. No matter on '11 the fair wife was crushed to the earth; no matter t ough that beautiful child, in all her intant unconscious- ness, was for this they ed 01 her just inheritance. It was they hadvheaped falsehood upon falsehood, toiled in darkness; it was for this g wrong u n wron . %t Clark had returnedto New Orleans, not to a week and away agaiilili, as before, but to centre his own business—and _ New Orleans was Zfilima; They mi ht meet, still it was unlike for she was proud on sensitive as ever, and ii in the bosom of a new family and was glrded around by new and werful affections. Looking upon Clark as a heart- aitor, one who had betrayed her unprotected state, and tnfled alike With her re utation and her love, she shrunk from a thought 0 the past. The wrong that she believed to have been practiced u 11 her was so terrible, that she shuddered at the pee tion. Without one shadow of hate or he 0 « re~ van to rpetuate the struggle that I heartrend at first, the only snort-that she made was to obtain forgetfulnesa. Zulima knew not that Clark had arrived at New Orleans, but a str; go The hts of the sw t and tter pastmade her rest— less agent! night; she was haunted by a constant desire see her child—Jolie child of Daniel Clark; from this innocent creatm'e, wrong absence in the father had failed to slim her love. , A little out from New Orleanswas a pretty country house, surrounded by ornamental mounds and em- bowered in tropical trees. It was a small dwelling, and beautiful as a bower; worksof art, me see books, and’hght furniture. befitting the climate, gave, ' within; passiona‘ an air 0! refinement. and ‘ grace flowers. bnery rises. and other dioxins vines draped wave after wave like ' beenso tude came over her.” _ ten the brig t waterdrops around; and thus 8111 do browney ' all! or a. tuft of little creature cast sway the contents of f of - m W'Wll “some , 5 goals a n s ace. e pu eyes‘dilated ting:th were almost \black, her white , tears. reach _ , Spmnfiegigls s singlebound to his embrace, she . .are yo . - (ital-i: dram A hand cm lydownithe di. . ‘mvslglmggfi‘ggmh ‘ liswmmgmniy ms LAWFUL wins." ~wvr the cottage without. An avenge of orange and lime trees led to the front door and behind wasa small garden cooled by the rain that fell perpetual a fountain near the center, and g owing w th tea roses, lilies, and a world of those blossoms that grow most thrifti and fragrant in the warm South. Among t ese beentlfnl rounds little Myra, Clark had been at {gay since the reakfast hour. She had Missed the umming-birds from their. swarmi places in the arbors and rose-hedges; she 'i athered golden-edged violets from the borders, and Gaping up with a laugh to the orange—boughs that drooped over the vol-walk, had torn ddwn the W blossoms an mellow fruit to crowd with the flowery“ ii that she had gathered in the skirt of mu dress. And now with her is full of broken otters, fruit torn grass and bb e-stones, the child, cast horse on the rich turf t t swelled up b0 the brink of the fountain, and tossing her din»- Dled hands and warm cheek ugon t e mar 1e, balm rig? idle watching is e gold-fish, as 8 up and own the limpid waters, her so t es sparkling crimson that the restless little creatures inl Wthe waters. Now she would cast a broken rose: into the fountain, and er ughflrung ontwi d and clear above the bell- e arming of the water in the marble basin, if she ‘30 detect some fish dar up like a golden arrow ‘0 meet her retty decoy. bus lay the child; a way 03, drooped the frmt and flower laden houghs, ,‘ When the sweet tranqtrflllity was disturbed by a. foot: ' Step. Down one of he gravel-walks came a man, bearing upon his noble features an air of proud sad- 11688, his very step denoting habitual depression, as he moved quietly and at a slow pace toward the fountain. It was not a look of ill-health that stam I 80 forcibly the air and demeanor of this man. . 15 frame was still strongly knit, his step firm as iron, but upon his brow was. that deep-settled shadow whicha‘ troubled heal-toasts up to the face, and the - looks that shaded it were sprinkled with the prema- ture snow which falls ear :1 over a brain tort With unspoken regrets. Thus son-owth still no: bowed in his spirit,np ed Daniel k, as he nietly toward 1; e fountain where his child moved (a wfiatpay.b 'thh idflhloughi and was 1: m or e s , us on {gains withszhem thro gothe waves. She saw no but their golden , she heard nothing but the light drops, that dimpled and clouded the water around hem. Thus for several minutes the proud and saddened man stood gazinan his daughter. She saw him atlast; on then th a faint cry th her rock; n ngup. anus seemed trombl llg with restraint, as if the sud- mnefifl at his a peeranee had checked the first quick “lamina. e was only waiting tor one smile “0,, 13,1250 at to his bosom. Them-turbine: Danidolerk gavewayashe nt. teredthc'nsme ‘1 child. Kiss on wdimwith , and o hgdfmmtregwhgarms. She neck st y with hornrms. and granted upon his 11$, his, ks. and his moist eyes. from t lips *s of is beautiful child, seem aka-gapme demand sunshinetmm thecup war. \ . "0 onerocomesgainl”shesnld, loci her wsrmh'hi do on each shied, his mongol! lggldng moms ,_ V ,- . u com 886 “Smmmgornlo longtime“ ' a n _ tones me, darling?" said, Mr with each new flash of gold or , . must ca. child. “thoughtfully... *- ' more V " I . l l 15 . "seem—wh -—I am lad—so vs 1: l on own own—-” he child hgesitated. ry’ mgad' y “flaw-will you not call me pa this once?" aald‘ e agitated father, and upon his flesheek u there came a flush, as he said this totlle d. “ Oh, but they tell me that you are my godfsther, ’ and that is not allure“ yzlu $021" said the cum. making he? 13 pretty thought- ' fulness. / , “Perhapsitisaswell,” “1‘1?”le etw am and looked into his eyes. anoint” I » ra n own ‘ . K “ n’t look so‘sorry," she said; “I will all yglvivfiapa. if you like. Paps! deer ml than. :1 But even the childish caress, occompnnlcdaslt “ was by a, voice and look of the ‘ ness, failed to dispel the sadness that fallen ;. ‘ upon thefather’s heart. Perha the velylovalb I * ness of the child dld but deepen t by re— minding him of its mother. Let this be unit may; I Mr. Clark sat down b1); the fountain with the lid 1 . rl in his arms, but e remained silent, thus chill-y g the httle creature whose arms were‘about his neck, and she too became hushed, as. it were, bythe gloom Into which he fell. D severdmhmtes he fatherand child remained as pod in silence. At last he spoke in a low vmce ldssing the forehead of the child: 4 7 “Myth. do you love me?" V ' “Indeed, indeed I doa" said the little ina— lng her cheek to his. ‘Better almost “any. body eise in the wide world. if you are only my godfather.” ” A . “ Andwhom—J’ here Mr. Clark's voice kites-w " and whom cant'fvlgu love better Myra?" * r y, u 0h," said c . a is so that 1 retty mysterious air, ‘there V love so much, agretty, beautiful lad whooomcs to me so often, an so strangely, just * one of the. v fairies nurse tells me about. Sometimes she will he a long, long time, and not come at ell. awhile ~ - a “ I am - laying anion? the trees, she willbe ’ _ to mebefgrelt ink of t. She biomass-mu _ ' i do, and once—that, too, was so ' 7 «m awed,de seemed pondering over Militia v , or m n ' "' ‘ 3' ‘ . “What was so like, Myra?” “alum ’ M. faint voice for his heart vehim. . ._ . “Why. 1 was last ." mid , dam; ' r thoughflully; “this pretty lady wanted ' -‘ _' her momma, Just as you wanted me to ' papmyonknow.onlyinhm.“ 5 .y X , ’ :‘ #nd dti’dtyliu call hegmthati” V . es.u,never_'agaln-no,m’f‘ world; for, do you think, she began“ to 33!: ab" ' thing the moment Lent myerms ,. and said‘mammul‘ on can‘t think hostel» dld. ‘ ugh-and after me,too" h _ rr . Clark turn sway his head; in; we " angst llgnok “023161 him}; it . ‘7 , s “ e eww enoug that was fun '33.. N ‘6 ‘ ‘ 2 . r .0. . v ‘ ‘ ‘ such words are bitter bitter, tun."‘.mm.'. teredhlllfi.‘ Clark. tortured hyme‘ “Ididnot mean snyharnr the L new L ‘ m“ sewers. "has .. n. ‘ r X‘W a seem . Billionaire against {denim lo an“ _. -. ; ., re, on m ' ve ha; ' ego:- any t she pleases,"snid Ir. Mal. ' witha burst of emotion that startled the . tie l ' fig, ‘31 em " ,“ ood to her- he gen and it wrong not fun when you neither “Hmong wfllbgl'oodtoherzpromisema my . Butshewinnotaskme tithe sincethe lady \ “gm some 13 V ms LAWIj‘UL WIFE. «Pei-ha " said Mn. Clark with avoice and look ~speak’ tom . speak to me "cried has in s 3 " of palnfu abstraction; , ' voice of thrilli o'anguish; “I never was youfiitelf‘ A flight name in a. distant part of the garden “The God 0 Heaven, at whose altar we were ‘ drew thechiidis attention. She started, and bendin united, "can answer that you were my lawfully eager forward looked down a winding path sh - wedded wire, that you are so now!” . toned the mug: trees. ‘ A sharp cry broke from Zulima, she staggered "See ” cried child, pointing down the path forward a ace, and at down upon the close . with her finger, while her eyes sparkled likedia- by her chil ; coveri her facewith both ds,she monds; "didn‘t Isay that she always came like a bent it down to her ees, and remained thus mo- ? ‘ Didn’t I tell you so?” 2 tionless and absolutely without breath. ‘ followed the child's finger with his ,eyes, Clark stood gazing upon her, every nerve in his and there coming 11; the path ra idly, and with body uivering; the horror that her face had'ex- " “germ-ta in her 100 and manner, e saw Zulima, hlbl , that sharp cry, the .utter , tration of her the wife of his bosom, the mother of his child. For energiefieall these things were set unsealing his heworld, that proud man could not have nsen' to eyes. set down by the who, pp; woman, at- his test; his strength utterly forsook him; he at. tempted to remove one of the ends pted‘to'remme Myra’s arm from his neck, but over her eyes, but she resis him with afaint even that he failed toaccongpvlish, so profound was shudder. and then through those lashed fringes ' his astonishment; so overp ering was his agita- gushedaflood of tears. non. _ “Zullma. try and compose wit, makeone A A. tree stood close by thefountain, overrun and eflortg for. on W11. feel that must beour last shadowed by the convolutions of a passion-flower interuewn Shrink not thus! I have never wronged vine, that fell like a curtain around it, concealin you. or if it prove so not knowineg or will! .” the father and child as Zulima came u . Thus 1 Zuhfna shook her head and so bedaloud. ‘ There Wed that withoutanylpre oration,t ewronged has been wrong, (lee , black wrong somewhere," wi sand the deceived hus an stood face toface, she said; “I was tol that you also had deceived breathless and isle as statues in a graveyard. The me by a false marriage, that the ceremony we went child clung to er father‘s neck. Her is e eyes through was a fraud, and 1, your victim, not a dilated, and her face grew crimson wit tear. mfe.‘ . she was frightened by the terrible pallor of Zulima's “ And who told you this infamous ,falsehood!" ‘faee. ‘ , ' said Clark, clasping his hands till the blood left ' Mr. Clark arose pale as death; and trembling in them, in the any of his 1m tience. - every limb, he placed the child gentlgon the grass, “ Ross hinte it; Smith to me so in Philadelphia and approaching Zulime held forth h hand. and in Baltimore. They told me, also, that on ' ; She took it, but her fingers were like marble, and wore about to marry another; I saw you toget or «like marble’was the cold smile that went in a spasm withmy own eyes. You refused to see me; but tor , o! umberlips, ' thetIhadneverbelieved them!” ‘ ‘ Zulima, Will you not speak to me?" “And Smith told you this; Ross hinted , " cried ,. Oh, what a flood of, bitter waters did that gentle Clark. locking his teeth With terrible anger. ‘ These voice unlock in Zulima's heart. Her limbs began to two upon whom I have fed, whom—” He paused"; shilke, her hands quivered like aspen leaves, and a the violence of his emotion was too great for words. - 3 look of mtterable distress fen neon her face, But wh should we further describe the hart-owls . j 'f’l'o what end should I speak? she said, in a low scene? was long before the unhagfiy beings con and husky voice... "I have no wish to rearoach speak with calmness, butat is h was told—the you, and what but reproaches can you expe from fraud that had kept back the mutual letters, the » pine} ’ ‘ slow and subtle poxson that had been instilled so as- ,“L bitter smile disturbed the llor of Daniel eiduously into each proud and passionate nature—— Chg "s lace. and a bitter intone ion was blended all. Forthe first; time, Clark learnedthe miles-lugs, wit moumtul cadence of his voice. the passionate love, that had sent his younfi‘wife in - “ , , r lime, are for slight wmngs' but search of him, her struggles, her despair. has his I slight or deep. fdeserve none at our hands. While own haught We gave way; he ‘W 099“ 1335 {ctr—oh, wo Woman, how ave you betrayed whole heart fore her, its histo and its 3 . he deefi love, t .e honor which I gave you in holy He told 1101' Of his wandering the deep hm" - trust. » eitheer 1 reproach' but whenl look upon rowing love. which not even a lie! in her taithiess- our“;tace, still oung, full o§ beauty, and beari ness could wring from his heart; he told her all, . he old look of , nocence, it forces me to think and then thew Proud beings sat again, Side by side, the vows you have broken, the mockery you have looking 111 68911 Other’fi faces. and yet Estimated, oh,“ cast upon our man-loge.” how irrevocably! . . v 4‘. j arriage," repeated Zulima. Again her Then came 1; 9 time for parting. Zulima mustgo '7 l‘igs were distorted with a smile mournful and bitter, back to her home an he—rwhere couldhe seek shah d claeping her hands she wrung them nervously ter from the grief of t t terrible moment! , They both arose, and face to face, stood gazing on ' , Wh do you smile thus? Why do you repeat each other for thelast time' neither of them doubt- $33k, bi terly the germs-{Eat agave spglgeni‘gaid gaging Yogi liar 3:: finmmb flde the , regs »erwi a‘ onw W0 er. _‘ . ' u 6 Wilson “ When I speakngt our marriage. you do not shrink their features, their hands were emin- ortremble as one who has profaned a holy £11364. but stunt, and then Zulima. turned awa . and to your eye is fullof acorn, your ii curl with bitter feebl in her walk, sad from a smiles. a, are you ind so lost that the quhmg her the last moot her : mention of ties that bound us once, and that legally merits disappeared under themesboughs; * .W as yeh‘tles that on, unhappy woman,_ ave he turned away sndwent V ., a broken inches and dishonored? can only awake a. smile of man. Mother and father , . went aw , leavi scorn? , the chilwone. Terrified scene 0 ‘ , stood rmotlonl her hands’clasped. her passmg are the creature , ' the truth are stru lingtoher heart. moved nor spoken: and in the my 9! that inst ' . tomegipeak tomng ," she cried,ex- pattinEmewes forgotten. She. no heart for ‘ i , sheaf 00k hendsimplmingly. “That mar- playt en- Tbellshturnsdgtheir Weidesln r a _ w,you know we] itw alltalsemll rain the hummingbirds hfi or on, “Imam” up, 91m , heeded; shewas using after he: , , , my;m§r§dmbaok.ueb§uathe$$thdimcuityg ggfiwergmtuél attests. All“)? f h” I; ‘ mt v 'bmakl. n so Meme!» .' walking re ' rs were n f t We use Do ’ ‘ ’ ; eyes file . and. taking herpto his bosom. he kissed , ‘ ‘- eighs; or -: Histlwrfit wine; Wher hair, and her little hands. M n to ooh pitecuslly‘l'. She could feel the ewe ng at heart- against or form; the hot fever of 1118 up! a! they touched her forehead, made her tremble and cling closer to him; it seemed as if the little emtnre knew that this was the last time that noble bout valid over heat against hers—as if she felt in , her own being that he was her father. Thus, after : brief struggle, the parent and child parted, and . . CHAPTER I; i , ’Tm'i- night 93:13: 011’ xi: “'Vu’fid r the reef of or n e - his friend, Ross, the very toggle that had sheltered his emote one"th mill" :61” cm“: ’ ' on an on an Oil - I break of the terrible o .’ y awareof his treachery. Perhaps the footsteps of too hesvil upon him. (1 to his he more than once that day. “ Vengeance in mine, saith the and I will repay it.” was no vengeance in Daniel Gist-it'll i: V for death was there ahead ,and he f it ' cm ‘ y 8 van him on earth would scarce- lybe to lit the wmn d. ' . In the very chum where Zu ma had sat, amid the storm, writing her last soul-touchingl letter to her bus was that husband at mldni t writing eagerly as s e had been. His face was eatth is one minute, and the next there spread over t a warm red hue, that seemed burning hotly through the flesh. He wrote on, sheet after sheet, linking. the ‘ together as he completed them, witha blue ribbon; and, notwithstanding the anguish that shoe and the feverthat burned him, the writing as flowed from his pen, was firm and even as Err-mi. award daylightthe document was finished. Two block seals were placed at the last page then the whole was folded up‘nnd car sealed , We and was Daniel Clark. as e arose from tank t ebed stood in a corner of the chamber, cool and ', but he approached it not. With a heavy and we step. he reached the open window, and £01 his arms upon the sill, turned his face to the soft thint-air, with a faint groan, and thus he re- mo . ' The next day Daniel Clark rode into thecity. and was closetedfilth several of his old and intimate friends. In t e house of one of thesefriends the others not by appointment, and there Daniel Clerk read his 'lsst-w' .and testament, making his child the heiress to his vast possessions on therehe mnly declared his marriage to Zn me, that child’sfnfizhgi. fifterdthihs he sat (lows: in thg presenoe'o v on s an e oeen execu rs, an his signature to the will that his own hands when Mr. Clark left them‘that diy, his friends ob- served that the hand with which 9 theirs was burning, and that hileyea looked" vy and swollen. They remark too, that he had never once during the whole interview; but the oc— eeslon was asolemn o and so they merely gave these things a passing t, deeming them but the result of some undue exc torment. ' p , At htfall Mr. Clark reached the dwelling of Ross. It had 1: Zulima's residen and he yearned to lie down in the room that 8110'th compied, and to ' ‘themnepillowthatshehadw ptupon. An 38 ’ tendme of his early love for that "fireman comeback “mm”! a ImOWIBvng 0! her mum Pride, the great sin or his flat had been prostrated with the knowle that he, uli'his haughty self-reliance, all his sp endor set, had been influenced by base and un- , fratele men towro the bemgdearest to him in ife. All the man creation of displeasure that he Myra 1’? la ed tow rd Beeswax Mesh-etc “cubism-psi. 2:11:35, nt evenathat awoke the ever- ‘ ion H had menial sp as on the steps of the man. 8 l , - , ' but in‘ hunting down the sterner 9 of Zulims, . The ng Mr. had always ‘ . ' o artmen’ts. 0n returning home that night be en- tgred a. little library belon ng to these apartments, and opening an escritolr had taken from thence an ebony box in which were his most papers. After placing the will therein be had carefully locked the escrigoirtgnd the‘ room! “before rating to ins mber or e I _ A _ Chit two o’clock t e next morning there shone it: this library a faint light. Brthe escritoir. stoodlloss softly tryin a he in the lock, and behind him on a table res a. dar dentern so placed thntall its rays fell in one directio leaving most or the room in darkness. Noiselessfi the key was turned, and-with- ggt nisoundwfas tine escrltoir opened. and the ebony x ' ort . H . The? was the first pg. r that presented itself on mg the box. Ross 1: it u in r. ‘lal'k‘a cosy-c ‘ read; nervous- Reducing over t e pages, and starting from time to me if the 858% sound reachedh’ls car. “As I thought!" hesaid, innstem, lowme mu. msnmhsndagamstthe :- fillthesheets’ d loud enough to make him “ rustle I . Thus has onedn undone the merit of ours. Iknevr that WI. 3 and rged moi” Thong tfully, h n fro folded up the will, laid it in its inwardiifirgmlé’é a e m an consume but» tEe rash thought {3’s abandoned 7 ment's reflection, for there was danger stun that Mr. Clark t detect the fraud an another will beyon his reach. With his dupliea and ready access all the little to dread w Q3 mow, Ross lento . key there was ' The moment every t was safe, Ross closed his lantern, and sat fox-more northern-Mint!» darkness. When he come forth, there was ’9. deep and com Cloud 11 his bro - twang; fellsz itthggggh thewlnd to his own room but the moonbeams , the black thought that lay hidden wn-mhthntform. ) “9 hilt"? Emil filth? “m hamlet” mg“ . s ‘s c ‘ 1 couch her dellggte limbs h m “rs. Pei-gaps the favour tong on e mom w c or" it might 0" would have proved more infill till. found the heart-stricken man faint and as a child. ' h which did not qui to could not have been said that he was quite of assi events. He talked in a low voiceof‘his’ , ' e mama; there was somethmflid brom- “mmm ‘tdl "film "° and lotion!“ "‘ v9. nee Heseem' edtotakelittleln but murmured and sototeuymitntvarlnneewith hisme man- ner-' there was something“ ax ‘ touching end mournful in it. for the death-mot noble and stro man marked ad of colon gndglgness that night hove bgttedmth-pmow vs ovlngwoms. ' r w ~ ' At first th disease violent WWW. 'lhe spline " » « edthstdeathbedaloneean tea 3 ' ,m', « tedon, or do snddnrker causes m... to terminate that s tzht “(limes in death. a! mm; attendant- constant an unoe " was 6 money , of his watéh. No physician. no entered the" seated himself ‘ se- _ At first hewastempgted to take , to apartme nt L hlle thewiil remained under __ t , uponthe ' g ad resead,‘ ‘the' Bglow whereher henth fougd its 3mm? ‘ ' ’ ” irit grew objeots ' . have been the. without these -' niscences, the illness that engine upon h'ixun‘that ' ‘ ' " s “a , 'l" r ~~Willie Wt“ mus . ouraown’ hands the momentl amdead; e , est id ‘ opened Wide and he mov ‘ motioned the traitor away with his hand. bnea andc V- 1‘ also” I were lepton—still _" an ~ lastwmdsot the dead. forthtrom do V latch. , so 0 . tread of a footstep. The e 18 lick-room, andforthree days that nobleman lay ‘ with deatlhlin the presence of his bitter-,- , and one thtui old body—servant, who can ’ , watch and weep over the master who was to him almost more than mortal» , > Then came the third night, and still the! man wasalone with that one old negro. who would no he, sent away- and over him bent the household viper whose 13 had beenworse than death. A dimlhmpwasinthsroo andthrough than n windows came the night , insott, sweet ea. making the muslin drapery tremble in the flaring Dui’rlu‘felhclark turned his ill his e as u n or k_ t at mwmtfiomgg see ogras something. Bossbentoveran spokegzhimmgtthe ' mauclosedhiselean-Sand01d negr’ r came up, choking hack the tears, and bent , hisg .headgently over his master. Again Clark v open his eyes; a sudden lighircame into hem, and a smile stole over the whole face “Bend down," he whispered, “bend close to me, , old ant for I am dying.j’ ‘ man this head still lower holding his king the tears that sw histaith- " ear master, I listen.” . lifted his ban and grasped that of the old man width a ieeble “Hy'wiie-my childl See that no wrong is done The old man looked down u thatashen lace with surprise. “' This must be de irium,” he thought. “ tummy poor master had neither wife nor child. ‘ man were mist , but he saw Theegesotthe thedou tinhisserv ‘9 face. Alan or distress passed over his own, and he made a vain short to the ‘ .33 ch. Butheoouldo sa powero Willi you-4t is bdowwakgig tc-to-' ""“. oMasterRos’si" said the old man, observing who ' ’svoioewas n fellgheavily upon t e bed. Still his eyed they were fixed with mournful in- old man’s taco. nel” murmured Boss, bending his ashen _ v e ashen taco of the dead. ‘fifio-ugoml” cried the poor old servant, wring- hlShnnds and sobbing aloud: “heisgone, and _ uttakinz the old man with him!" Then the f '1 oldfreatnre cast .himse rent-he . so I A, In b of minutes the old negro gave to his sorrow. Th his tears he remembered the , He did but - pause to close, with reverent hands, the eyes that seemed still my him with mud. He did but 00mm“ t lifeless limbs? aligndra th sh t 0v . e a w e so or thoseloveg . ‘ features, before he went down to obey thalast behest o! the dead. The poor old man went _, death-chamber, guided by the ray. oil-ton ‘ Wh‘fmflwham along r 0?: ear as e V I ‘ or tbhimthat thetai‘n tsoundmightdisturb He the library; his handwasup‘on the will . thetm'nedit withacautiousregzrdto sound, not with mutation, but because t death-508110 hehadw I madetheleastnoises whim like . But the door remained 1* was ' within, tor through the keyhole the l ht came an rustling Xapersa the cautious 1 man bent his eye to the keyhole and looked in. Directly within the Thesewords broke. from the dying, . last breath; he fell back‘ upon the ' pinovgfiéhishandswandered u ward-tor an instant ms WIFE.- \ ‘ _ ‘1 'u'w-N. range or his vision stood Mr. Clark’s momen- wide ope and b it was Ross, searchingdamong the pa- pers an e ny box, which the man knew as the repository of his. master’s most valuable dow- ments. Ross took from this box a voluminous par.- oel, thrust it in his bosom, and carefule locking the escritoir, held ilignthe light and 100 ed timidl around as if ten of the very silence. Then, wit a guwk, noiseless tread, he passed across the . Hisface was deathly pale, and the old negro saw that the lamp shook and awe ed in hishand. There was a fireplace in the room, put the door command- ed no view of it, and the old man strained kl: sight in vain to secure further knowled e of w within the library. But if eye was baf- ed his ear remained keen, and that was directly startled by the sh rustle of papers apparently torn apart in haste; en the who 9 room was filled with a glare of light. There was a sudden and faint crackle as of some hastily-kindled flame passing up the chimney. Then all was dark andhushed once more. The lamp seemed extinguished; a little smoke, afaint smell of burnt paper, and that was all the poor old negro ever saw of his master’s‘ The old man went back to the chamber, knowing too well that his mission was at an end. He kne down by that death—couch trembling like a culprit, and heart-sick from a consciousness “of his own im- potence. “ Oh, master, master! forgive me—forgive me I” cried the gray-headed old servant, bending his wrinkled forehead to the hands he had clasped upon the death-couch. “ Forgive me that I stand to or when I should have obe ed the last order you can ever give the old man. have seen, I have heard-m but who will believe me, master? Am I not a v ’ l I “A slave! Yes; go house, and foreverl”crieda stern voiceln the room; “ you who have no more Th ‘33 than thus to talér wtitlsdthe ding]: eo manarosean so u' senses: dwelt firmly upon Ross, and with h ’ right handyhe drew the covering from the dead. There was some- thi noble in the look and attitude of that old fro ~ h ed negro as'he conironted the false frlen , the household. traitor who might yet have almost the power of his and death ove him. , “ He is my master I will not leave him," said the, old man firmly. “lion mafi'lwhi me you may kill me, I will never leave him 1: he buried. I rocked him in his cradle, I will in him in his grave. Then sell me it you like ; no matar what becomes otthe old man w _en his r is in the grave." And tur away with a look of unutterable woe, the old servan cast himself by the death-couch, out, “My master! oh, my master!” twasv A few weeks alter, the old man was sold and sent ’ awe. teeter-oi! lantation for he was a rt or the yroperttfi which Daniel ’olark had left, 33d ace, co g to 6 old the onlg one ever foundJloss was the executorot t e esta , and had arightzto sell the poor old man. . CHAPTER X. me man omen. ‘ Tun will of Daniel Clark was never tolmd, and the ‘ vast inheritance that sh d h hi ‘ e the of m 083111 ave been 3 child s, along his lire-path poisonin ’ eve ~ are blossom that g u to see him 0% his 39;» the grave. His wge was erert of everything bu her sorrowful memories. His child had not even these. To her lather mother. all was a dream-an idea that had floated through her infant memory and was gone. Years went b -many years—and then inme the most splen mansions of Philadelphia, lay a fair young girl, half arrayed in her morning cos- tame, and but partially aroused from one of these sweet dreams that of late had made her shefi a or : vision ot- love. While lifting the 'Wealth of brown hair between» both her small hands in dress- inz before her mirror that morning. she hadbeen / who had crept like vipers ‘ ‘5 ,3 ' ‘ backagain while Myra , \ ms LAWFUL Wire. 9-: 19 taken with one of those rich gleamsor thought that are the poetry of oath, and allowing the tresses to fall over her stg t person agalnil where, in their wondergul and bright abundance, t. ey fell almost to her fee , she had stolen thou htfully to a couch in her houdoir and cast herse upon the crimson cushions. There, with some loose drapery gathered around her, one fair check in the of herhand, and the white arm half veiled by those loosened tresses, pressed deep in the silken cushions, the young girl fell into a reverie. Perhaps the dream from which she had just been amused still haunted her mind, but it would have been difficult for Myra herself to have said what were the strange and sweet fancies that floated through her mind at that moment; for her own thoughts were a mystery her feelings vague as they were pure. These so Of day-dreams, when they come to our first oath, have much of heaven in them: if they co d only endure through life always bright, always enveloped in the same rosy mist, ' " Man ht’for t to dream of heave And £38 have this: sweet sin forgiven}, Myra was aroused from her day-dream, not rudely as some of our sweet fancies are broken, but by a light footfall, and a soft voice that called her name from the inner room. The young girl started up— , “ Moiher~mother, is it you—am I very late this morning?“ , ‘ “ Oh, you are here, daughter," said a middle-a ed and gong lady as she entered the boudoir. “ 0, not vary to, but do you know that your father has just arrived and is inquiring for you i" I “My father here, and not half ready to go down i" cried Myra, eagerly gathering up her hair, while, with the wonderful mobility natural to her features, the whole tone of her face chan ed. The dreamy, almost languid ex ression vanis ed in an instant. The warm glow 0 her aflectionate nature broke through eve feature like flame hidden in the heart of a pear. Her cheek. her mouth, her white forehead were full of animation; her brown eyes sparkled with delight. With her whole being 8 e loved the man whom she believed to be her father and for the gentle woman who stood gazing upon her with so much affection as her toilet was completed Myra‘s devotion was almost more than the as love of achlld for its mother. Scarcer a minute before the young girl was ready to go down. Another minute and she was in the arms of a fine and noble-looking man who stood by the breakfastrrwm' door eager-1 watching for her. During many weeks he had a absent from his home, and he could not feel thoroughly welcomed was not by to greet I It was a joyous family [arty that a hered around the breakfast-table the morning. e eyes of that gentle wife wandered, with a look of grateful affec- ion from thsnoble face of her husband to meet the s aridin lance of her child- for Myra was more men ac d toher. Re oiced to be once more in the bosom of his family, r. D. was more than usu- bni able. There was not a mated and agree V hmglen thought or a isunited feeling in the little, “And whgm have fin, had to visit you since I Walkaway Km! 7. at new mallet Tell me all about it c . ., smi , as heréceivedthe coiee—cupofflevreschina fromt hands of wife. . Myra -a clear, ringing laugh, that had glare of hearty glee initthanany thing youever em, “on, we have had crowds of visitor% gallants without number. like a swarm of, , birdaand~aade~oh yes; wehad one ve si 19: a , mo a namesake an intmate fr undo! yoursygapa?’ lwnote tEon about him, but you never mentioned him at all Y lyour renly.‘ “ is, yes: I'reinemher" Paid r. 1).; ‘a grave, gentlemaniy gunman, with just gray hairs enough to ' nuke in in! interactm.and the most winning {hair a. s n‘ sthareyou WmerD ners. He carried a little Bible with a gold (3% n his bosom—I remember the description well. of him Myra? YOu 10st your heart, of that the let- ter told meg—but who was this mys person! Pra , enlighten me." 1 min a her mother exchan glances. A faint crimson broke over the elder ‘a face, and the. young girl looked a little puzzled. -, , “Why. pang how strangely you talk. mm— tleman knows you well; he is a member of gist-fide his seat inclose byyours lathe _ " ra " Nonsense, child; there is but one man of a name in the housea and he has not been absent from ‘ Harrisburg a day urlng the session; besides, he has not a white hair ir his head, and never carries small Bibles with gold clas to exhibitto You have had some impostor here. ' didthe interesting gentleman want?“ “He had lost a portmanteau that contained his measly. and clothes, ’ {altered Myra. , , e. la“ hlbut the little Bible!" cried her father with a 118‘ And so," continued the yo gifl, blushing, “ as he was a friend of yours and on of money, he only desired mamma to advance him asmall sum.” “And she did it—I’ll be sworn she did itl" cried Mr. Dfielenjo , lithe blusfhes of himwife. “The scoun carri o m w: e's purseaad daugh- ter's heart at one fell egoop." ’ ' “It was not much, only twenty-four dollars." said the/lady, struggling to hear up against her husband's, e . .4 - ,, deliI-n‘e‘rmaimssgrsw s or n .2r‘s ‘w V suspecsty'lhai’m wiltxhghis entle manners—4’ ' . “ And little Bible 1’” interrupted Mr. D. I x “ And gray hairs? Indw it was worth the money to be cheated so g . You havenoldea; with what an air the man took absolu stood in his e es." “ The ellow was a f lars, Myra, that is all I havebto say about 1 her fat n: a , , V mg an have received one other at "m h an effortto accident when out on an excursion. .7 . . “Indtged; aadwho is he!" inguihrgd Hr. Duh; 1; ve and casting a write I ' Erghadegf'displeasureln - ' v m ,1- \- “He seems amost estimable young mantel! oft talent and generous feeling," sadd to save her child from the embarrassment..:_ swer. ~ “He favour-who is he?" demanded the husbands, I . his voice was stern andhls lookeusplcious. “Kym, wholsthis man! : “HisnaumlaWhitne " led-the om ethingofhgrnfiglml y made J:no mrther‘uilng‘tiitries; b’uthe lanei 1mm, “fl n.“ mm “a ‘ rerynerve ? astheyou galawmngg her dream? did'she begin toga show tbrgityfifigw ‘5 a deml - are loved? or was the res . vail , , I from or heart? She cast a suppllhatingglancemhe, mother, and her look was answered by one of sweet ‘8 heart beat mic. Wighshonid " should'e in her slight _ .5 leave—the tears . _ not totakeyeurflftydol- L “V swoon” I ‘7 it is gentle .i “it"m'lwtry l and undisturbed afrection. That feminine and lovely , woman could sympathize far better with the meet, , , wild feelings that _ roke so eloquently . that moment, through, the mubled e as of her, child, than with . the stern-displeasure 0 her husband; She arose ‘tr'omrthe breakfasttable and glidedyfrom the room, es signtor her daughter to follow. , ,f‘Stay, ’ said the master of ' the house,'addressing mas she was timing toWard her own room. “, would ask a single question, and then let us have 1’c‘lone with this impostor, for, doubtless,he is , “No, father, no: I would pledge my life for his honor; he is no im tor,” exela med Myra, as her {other led the way a little study that opened from the breakfastroom. , ' ~ , , “As you would have done for the gontlemalga}?r , oldmanwlth the 3 lo, I dare sey,”was the h - ’ haltslronlcal rejoinder. “But answer ,myquestion, Myra: Has this young man ever pre- sumed to lift his eyes to you as an equal? Has he ‘ ' ever ,ttered a wordthat might lead you to suppose that he thinks 0!; you save as a stranger?” ~ ~“ Indeed, papa, he never has—far, for from it. When other oung men have overwhelmed me with nattefles; w on,.as your heiress, homage of every kind has been vished u :2 me, he alone has been silent. Alway-s resp i, always kind, he has never for one, moment, taken the attitude often as other on ‘men who could not boast a wheat is ' t: alias seldom spoken to me of week—mover has the word love passed between ' the and 9" You are signature ‘ alike in ‘ . ' _ Mame this stranger.” ' V “In , , paw“. 0 ‘. ~“W 1am glad of . ewholeaflair can be -, ' ,diemissedthanlsupposed. Nowgoto ; ,andthink no more about it.” ; ~ '1“ about it;" truly it was arequest ‘ easiiymadabuthowimpossibie toobey. Why t e z a: that stranger youth had henceforth ‘ ,. i an B251131 epiri which might steal down . - , ’V; , , watersofher heart forever. Myra .know not even yet that this spirit took the form of her boudoir again and flung her- 1, She entered t1 " n the couch, but how chan ed were her tech ‘ ' sweet dream, so tranqm so of rosy . t away like a cloud. Her heart ' atumult, eroheek burned, her eyes filled nth tears. _ She felt in t that her father ‘ for one moment, he a doubt or the being mwhom'slioputsuohperiect . , ' ,_ , with herself theryounggirl at an t, when her nave e' was istgfied by .4 asexual?er o intermed her that Mr. Whitney was me first sensation was: a thrill joy. such as had 32%, unconsciously, tol- : I L each. ,Tbe was a feeling of re- serve, tally, «gistrusttul sensation, such as had She went down,\not, ' or warm, frank nature before. r 11 fit“ “13% 2255’“ ll?” “i: F‘eteoaaze anwa , es 1 f . ‘ eyesgd oxf'her lip, but-git]: a lingering grind - and eyes vafled by their snowy lids and dark lashes. ’ She entered the drawing-room so gfint that its occu- " not-at first observe her. a 3 00d by a mar- . table, near the window turning over some books Milly“ it. Theligh which {allover him was subdued y man a glowing fold of damask that " d°“s““§y“l‘“tthixfi‘£‘fi ‘1‘”“35 : eatures so ea 0 use so e rou that but for 9° ( the thick wan hair, and‘the Engidlife that them, e head might vs been taken , or that of some anti 9 statue. ’ibtheso ' «attractiOns was added a re tall ' thee r ‘ smamwy.» b '; - V, goggh himsewgitalone also}: 13:, title: 8 ‘W ‘ ‘0 n ’5 ea 11 - « v moment {suggmhfiadangysaw the fair girl who ' hesitatiug-by the door the whole character of ' lace chansons glow 0% animation lighted up r , msilwm WIFE. ; an... .v. 3 ¢ "M, nurses and no came forward with all the eager cordiality that her previous from: bearing had al- wa swam-acted- * , '- , yrs hesitated before she reached forth , he; hand, and when she did place itm his, it quiver-eon like an aspen. The oung mun looked earnestly in her changx face, on then led herto a seat, himself a prey to a the quick a prehension that her unu‘ sual restraint was calouflted to inspirer A few commonplace words were spoken;5 then both be- came silent and preoccu led» A low Myra-ob- served that her father return home that morning, but she blushed while sa‘Kieng it, self the your: man could have guessed at» conversation hat ad given so much pain to herself. , A; vague idea of the truth \ did evidently'flash across the young man’s mind, for he turned another long and egress look 11 her race, which was now glowing crimson to her mp1 and when he turned his eyes away, the faintest pogble' smile stole ovor li . . » t r v “195e,” he said, with a faint sigh-n“ it is now more then two months smce I arrived in Philadel- phia. All that time your kind momma. has received me as a guest. Perhaps I should not have accepted this hospitality without first convincing her that I was not unworth of it; butl round“ it so sweet to be taken on trus so flattering to be valued for may sell alone, thatI'had almost forgotten the reason- able demands of society. I ought long since tczhave convinced her that it was no impostor to whom her kindness had been extended.” “Impostorl” exclaimed Myra, with a smile _ told how impossible she thought it that even ea. pl- cion should be attached to him. r - “What it 'I were to be suspected as such?" added Whitney, with an smile. “ I would not believe it» would believe, no wrong of you, though your own lips asserted it!” was the generous reply. The color we 1; over mung Whitney’s race and there Was some ‘n in es that eepened' the crimson on Myra’s c eek; but 6 only unstrered in a low and earnest voice: , "I thank on; with my whole heart I. thank you for this con .dence.” I * , on afteramoment’s hesitation, he took from his , "that several letters which, with a. hand that trembled somewhat, he presented to the veins girl- She took them to the‘window, and, hslbsha ed by the curtains, began to read, rejoicing in the 013mm. ty, for she ion: a terror that the quic beating oi! her heart no ht become visible. _ The is tors were from several of the first men in America—anon whose auto rophs had become famil- iar to Myra upon thepu lic’records of the land. Nothing could have been ,more ample than the testimonials that these men. gave of the high $2311, talent and position sustained b ‘3 young no . ,. or Myrayreed these letters with a 'feellfi'oi proud triumph, Her trust in him was sustain ; she had never distrusted his worth, and in her hand she held the proud war of crushin eve" doubt that her, tathermig thaveliad. Me ttow ch the'highest» and purest in the land here such 463$an could never again become-subij of dispute. e re- . Whitno . he generous enthusiasm that who posse her beamed in everyline ment of a ace lovellg in itselil, but most remarkable ‘ fora nick an lml 'nt expression, seldom equaled in oumanghcountena’nize; -my ’ ey ma retain seat 0 a short time? hgsiathszieheigvlijléhb: to see them.” ‘ ‘ an E L menu as “g M ° ‘n headmistress; , W' ' a neurotransmitter“ smegma c w ' l > not Well beilm n” ». . " my r 00 , rtainy- o with them as on please" he said; “but you must not allow your fa her to’sup Dose that 1 exhibit them from ostentatiousr ~ ~ _ M \ \tr .__.¥ HisnAWrULWIfiE.‘_ ~ 212‘ " on the wm'not thinlt that i" cried Myra, extend- lng he’r hand for. her guest was about 'to take hist leave. n“; warneverlthink anything that 18 no noblea , o y0n, amsure.’ ‘ " o-morrowg'then—-to~morrow, I will call for the “Yes. tomorrow." re lied Myra; and while a. servant opened 6 doorréor her guest, she entered herfather‘s study. Mr. D. was seated by his escrltoir, reading some E ape-11's. Regroked up as Myra entered, and smiled u n . ‘ visitor have you had?” he in uired, folding up the paper in his hand. “ Did I not ear some one ‘30 onto moment since?” “.Yes, air: it was Mr. Whitney" » . . tossed the paper be old upon the escri-. toir and his brow contracted. ‘ , rib. Whitne : Have I not told you, M a. , that no mun w ose character I am not we in- fonned. , myhouse? Howcan you thus regeive a. person 01 whom fiou know nothing?" yr But, pep:Lf I do know a about him, now, and so may cu; 0 read these letters and you will find that fan: isles good as ours; his character Irreproachable; his position everything that can warrant the noggian he has sought: ‘ I Mr.:D. took! letters very coldly. and without another word p V to read then watched his countenance With a palpitating 6| em down one hy'one, and then upon the parcel, turned to .his anal; r “ «'hat' roofs have we that these are not f - ies?” he ' 0g” Mym’sheartswelledindi antly. Shecould hardly force herself to answer. t seemed as if her father _ had determined toreceive no evidence in favor of the man, against whom he had taken a prejudice at, to her warm nature, seemed most unjust and “The hendwritin ,, the auto are the ' genuine! are they 5%: sumcien PPM 3' net Mr. D. ‘ k u one of the lettersand examined it closely. "the tters may be genuine; but what roof have we that this young man came by them no ‘ sho that his name is Whitn ', {thiggfi’i‘s’ at all thy, person for whom he reprgéng “Oh papa, this is toornuchi On! I gentleman yourself, and then gudge {£5153 gig $311115 $333181! 31 obtaining those le ters by dishonorable -. Myra grew ale,and teemstarted tohere es as she spoke. . . D. regarded her for a moment: then Khomg‘the letters in hisescrltoir. he turned the , 0y. yrawai for some answer to her u all. but he cold) took u the eper that he he een retain? as e came 11, seemed to cast the sub- ect o conversation from his mind. Myra. went to er chamber_ a on heart; she felt chilled ‘ and hurt by her father’s coldness; perha 3 too. there was in her hem aieehng'ot disa n ment {exuding Whitneme In the slight mystery that adup thatd ,envelolgfid him, ererdent fanc had found some e imaginatien to dw upon. In the» generosity of her youth she had rather hoped that he ht prove one of those rare geniuses that struggle rom an obscure origin and through overt , tovthe intellectual and moral em» mencew ioh one she prized, and which she was certain hehad attained, Perhaps somev e fancy oféelievmg his poverty by the wealth wh‘i‘cfi‘il, as her {a era; heiress, she must one day possess, had formed psi-tot the day-dreams which of, late had haunted her. Certain it is that asensstipn or re- graham the sadness, that-her father’s s «sheet, or db the s 8 g“ Pnotyallowedherthougmgo » with ‘ rohation had cast 1: n her is hit . ~ , gait, pp roe?) p ’s . I mend—tor she had that, even.“ , t be 0 _ {33% post 11, would never require a. sacrifice A from her. I CHAPTER XI. " «'rnn sncnn'r our. \ Tan next day Whitney called again—celled to I take leave. He was about returning to his 1182;: State, and had on thanks and farewe} _ ~ he should never cease to remember With In a. few months—it might be week again visit Philadelphl once he had made we beone of hissw ill then. ‘ ~ ‘ » . t Myra heard all this with that quiet and gentle dignity which no surprise could wholly conquer. She saw that her est was silos that, lie—woe not taking leave 0 her with t e common ._ w 'chtrue ection 'ves tothe heart, hex-thoughts mill-ined to the tutuge. A few broken sentences a. moment in which to u tirade ,.’ d between the and then went to her therrfor the letters he in humi- toir the do. I “I will {ring the letters myself," wasthe ooh! re ' which was van to her request, and Kym mag-nod to the dragging-room e and agitated,» for there was something u her ’3 manner that filled her with vague apprehension. _ ‘ n this were“ , “amimrgnt'rn‘mm‘” e e . , (mfg: as she listened. The y reached draw the - ing‘room‘ door; it was opengd, and with a. and stately politen Mr. I). entered, it letters in his hand. e approached Mr. tug, risen to receive him, and now resum “ Sir,” he said, gravely drawing a chair and himself op osite to the it: man,‘ “theer the letters Wit which you ve honored me; perfectly satisfactory." There was someth so chinand' x measured tones and un ndlnico without yiel Elm excuse for resentmen Whitney too the lettersth the color to his temples. nd Glitz: gentle characteFWhlmey, from r V ml_ to the friends whose kindness A d the 7 to ' ' an renew . V thiswas sai 'thatit hadallt e eitectot r, ~ erenceoffa, It uaintance; and with that deep trust nothing in the letters, or in'the mannerol 7 infithem, that could give offense!" - D. turned his Myra, who sat sole, and mode a. motion 0! thehead that she leave the room. ' The 0 crosetzem in “’M‘ 7",. leftthgrmuggggtwhileshesbtongg nthe’ wm‘fiz‘v entather spam; * struggling for strength to move ‘ “ May I ask you, sir, why ed to my daughter? ’ j I I y ' s Whggney’s voice was low. but firm, a he on- ewer -: ’ ‘ ~ ' ‘~ “I have received much kindness from _‘ V ,_ sir, within the last two moat and not leave the city, aslam about to do, thout givina¥m ll. and your daughterall the pron! in m , K _r their hospitality had notbeen unw , y , . ’ l ; “And was this your only motive, air? I “ It Was my only motive.” " ‘ “And have on not presumed to place ‘ da hterr Have mm . unequality, my ng H vor? In crush; haveyounot ' ed theh tall atme wife modernised other: to or . - _ . “No, stilryno, havenot thus premmed.” . no more—o sharp some .0! m {agatth confused thoughts dashed £2 mi and with a pong-at her 11mm had liege} dreamed of W eand dismeyedi‘n comm-0?“, pan 3 ‘ V . he , ,, " stairs. White and gasping for math, she W,“ * J a“ - J . 22 r ' V g _ His LAWFUE WIFE. 5...- . ‘ Eunuliatin . the flowed t ugh the young girl’s mind, when she . awoke from her swoon and found the sweet face '0! her mother bendin over her; proud and keenly sen- sitive. she felt as the dignity of her self-recht had been irretrievably outraged. Never in his life g {on Whitne spoken to her of love, and in all hang of m, the idea of '02) had never once mingled. But now she felt in her innermost heart that something stron er and more werful than mere friendship had ven the blood- rom her heart when she heard him so cruelly arraigned for , [feelings and hopes that he had never brea ed, per- haps ad never felt. This knowledge of her own Ix heart, thrust so rudely on the young lgirl, was but another pang added to her outragedp do, and for days not, even the sweet and soothing care of her mother had war to console her. In this sta of feeling Mr. D. left his child and re— turned te'hisl ative duties. The very day after , his departure ‘ m home, there camealetter for ‘ Eyre-a letter from the man who now occupied her every tho ht. She broke the seal in the presence , of her mot er and read such words as made her heart thrill and her pale cheek glow gigain. * “ Nothing but the harsh words your father would have given me confidence to address ou so," the letter said; “ but there was something u those words cruel and cold as the were, that gave me the * first gleam of hope i have ared to entertain—hope that he great love I feel for you might be returned. , 83% only that this hope-«it is faint and humble—will n be thought presumptubu‘ ‘ and surely some means canbefonnd by which t e rejudice which your father exhibits against me 'be removed.” *She oved, she was beloved. The weight that had \ .. ii a bowed down her tpride was swept away by that let- tar, likemlst's be ere a glowin sun. A hopeful and ’10 one creature, was Myra, an her light heart shook . them-cums that had op ressedit asa wild blossom f thedew from its She answered the let- " teru modestly and wit sensitive reserve, she vailcd the n that thrilled at her heart as she wrote ' tohim for the first time, but still Myra answered her lover’s first letter, and in all this her confidante was that loving and gentle mother. . us hope for the best, my child," the fond . would say. “When vour‘father knows his . aswe do mid is satisfied that on love him Sig, thenhe vrlll relent. We have bu to wait." a; I. , eydid w and in the meantime letterafter , t linkin those two young hearts more more firmly er. 1 Mr. 1). came home at length, and now the true [ his disliketoWhltne became manifest. Kym was. intended for one he . Wealth and station, everything that could win the sanction of a men. was in favor of her father’s choice, and on "the ve day of his return be ex Mined his ‘ intentions and s wishes to the oung ‘ “ You shall have a noble to une my child " he , said. “Few ladies inrAmerica, shall give so he a ‘ ahusband.” ‘ ,v H a “- t l” answered Myra, and it was wonderful how mild and firm the young girl remained, know- ing, as she did, how powertu were the interests she opposed, with her e st h—-“iather, I cannot marry this man. ,I do :1 love him, and , Will never commit the sin of wedding Without anec. 1*» ' "' ‘i‘heyoung ' wasvery abuttherewasamild ‘ in it: eye thsgurevesled all the pure with sustained her. She pan drew a deep th, and while her father stood , 1 her dumb with astonishment, she add : “ will never marry any man but Mr. Whitney, for While he lives Ivan never love another." And new that it was over, gybra began to tremble' ,tortherewas te leinthedercea, eon: pallkl rage that held her father for a time mute and r-motioniess' before her. At length his lips parted, and his eyes flashed- 5‘ i" v s j v 3 1 . and bitter, indeed. were the thoughts “Whitn i the in to, the impostor love 2—- you wouldegiarry hignmagainst my consényttl,g . “, N o. I will never marry any man against your con- sent, ," replied Myra, bursting into tears; for her strength had been taxed to the utmost, and she was not one tobrave a garent's wrath unmoved. “ can remain single, an will, it you desire it; but with the feelings that I have for Mr. Whitney, it woutllcli.‘3 be a sin should I give one thought to and r. ’ ' " ~ Mr. D. gazed on the pale, earnest face of his child as she spoke, but there was no relenting in his face. Anger, see a thousand wrathtul assionsbroke through its pallor, and he answe in a voice of cutting scorn: “ And this man, you told me, had never breathed a word of love to you in his life.” « / Myra was about to acknowled the letters that had passed between Whitney an herself, for there , _ Was a seeming justice in the reed man’s taunt that ' cut her to the heart; but she be ht or her mother, of the self-sacrificing mother who ad so generously risked the displeasure of her husband in sanctioning the letters her child received, and she only answer- ' edfi'IDca? negat- love anoghlegé pa a.” r: . urn awa . an an o c the room. His ll were pre forcibly to wig-fend uncon» trolla le passion seemed burning in every vein of his bod . “Eleni: God!” he muttered, turning furiously upon the terrified girl—“ thank Goflno drop of My b ood runs in your veins." , “Papal oh papa! this is terrible. Why, in your anger against me say things that are as cruel as they are without foundation?" cried Myra, starting to her feet, and a rose her father. “Without ioun atlonl. is true, girl, I say it is 0. You are not my di” She did not believe him. How could she, poor girl; with the household links of many a happy year clinging about her heart? One word could not tear them away so readily, but the very thought made her-pale as a corpse, and every nerve of her delicate / frame trembled. A re roachful smile uivered over her lips, and she lai her hand upon t e stern man’s arm. “ h father! I know that you are 0 this is too much. It would ill me to that again.“ ‘ Anger was fierce within him still, angry; but car you say Mr. I). turned. and he took no pity on that pale and tortured girl- “ As there is a heaven above you, you are not my child! I can prove it—havc papers in the house that y? {shaltl seal; rat 1 M n ain cry u rom yrs‘s ,_ She ste cred back and fell upon a chair, her eggs distendegg, and fixed wildly upon the stern man, as if she searched in those angry features for a contradiction ot the words he had spoken. She saw nothing there to re— lieve the doubt that ached at her heart. “Not m father? mamma not my mother!" she murmu and the tears n to rain ever her white cheeks. she suddenly , her hands and “ rugg'whose child am I?“ Mr. D. sat down; the an the was fast going out from his heart, and it ecu d sustain him no longer. Regret, keen and sell-accusing, took flossession of him then. Love pity, every tender fee 113 that had so lo ,enlinked that. young girl to his heart. all came 1: like birds to a ravaged nest. Heywould have ven Worlds for the power to annihilateithose ten notes of his life, when one fierce gleemf of :ngegdhggunlockled the}m secret]? , ' He urn eyes a mos luring on e bling‘ . girl. His proud lip,quive¥ed, h s1y hand sh issue it on his knee. Myra orept toward him, heart- broken and wretched, bebfiond all her, previous ideas of wretchedness. , She 1 her hand upon his shoul- der, and bent her face to his as she had done many etime in her childhood, when some small trouble 0 - grossed her. But oh! how unlike her sweet chll§~ ,ood were those wowed helium? * through no more today " . 1 Q Love them she di His Lawson WIFE“: 23 “ Father—father!” she said, and her voice bespoke in its low and thrillln tones all the anguish he had lnflacted——“ father, t me, whose child am I?” “ To-morrow, to-morrowi" said Mr. 1).; “I conga " But is it true that-{gins not your chlldl”said o . Myra, stinhop as < ‘ It is truel" e answe ; and, rising ,rrom his seat with an unsteady step, he entered his study. A moment after Mrs. D. met Myra on the stairs. One glance in her face was open h. “ Myra, dau h- tcr!’ she exclmmed' “ what 18 ? You are w to as death—you tremble." “ Mother-«mother? burst, from the 1i 5 of the oung girl, almost With a shriek; “ they te 1 me that am not your dl” . Mrs. D. was struck motionlm. Marble could not trimsI been more coldly white than her face and am 5. “And who—who has told you this?” she faltered. “He told me himself—papr has the proofs. Mother, mother, say in mercy that he is only angry-— that it is not so!" With a wild gesture and a burst of passionate tears. the unhapp rl cast herself into her mother’s arms. The r y trembled beneath the weight of that frag: e form. She wove her arms around it; she presse kiss after kiss upon that forehead with her cold and quiveringhéips. She strove, ligathe warmth and passion of r maternal love, to rm away the pain and the truth from her daughter’s heart, but she said not in words, “ Myra, you are in child,” and the young girl arose from her bosom u terl desolate. , marrow came, and M stood by her father in his study, for hewas sti afather to her. The escritoir was open before them, and a large pocket- book with the seal wrenched apart, lay upon the lid. Mr. D. sat with his head bent and shading his troubled forehead with one hand. M raheld a let ter in her shaking grasp—~a letterad ressed tothe man whom she had always deemed her lit, and signed by Daniel Clark. She could no read; the words swam before her eyes, but she. laid her finger on, the sign' ature and said in a low and hug?! veice, “ This name-Daniel k—hewas my ather.‘ “ He was yourrfatherl" replied Mr. . “Read, Myra forced her nerves to be still. With desperate resolution she keg: her eyes upon the writing. Every word of that tter contained proof that went V read for yoursclf." to her heart. She was the daughter of Daniel Clark. CHAPTER XII. A IJN’S rassxo . N . ' Lmu byhllttle, as her shattered nerves could bear it, the tru [was revealed to Myra. It was a sad, sad trial, the uprooting of her pure domestic faith, I, e to asunder of those thousand delicate fibers that had so long woven, and sin and rooted tin selves around the parents who g adopted her. now, as it seemed, more intense 13' than ever but t was excitement in her heart a tort of wild, unsettled feeling that destro ed all the sweet faith and of affection. t was ion r the quiet and serene love which had clan; . t ' and withoute he: maybank where t2: sunshine sleeps Magoo—but somothing o unre min wi itall. In the history of her m m" “M new be Merge, ' sorrow her fipan‘ntgo vividness of a romanceofit kin ed 11%!“ch itpalnedhertethesoul. Then other. boughts and more, thrilling anxieties. t. We. the newsrooms ‘ o ' c es, r0 - Ilse how seemeg legally dis ~how would he receive the news of her orphanage—wot her depend- ent state: Alas, how were all her d and nor- ,ous visions sw t away! love orhis pure disinterestedness? Never for a mo» ment. Loyal. lotty and W891 cam t mgelovedo And yet, did she don is his . as her own pure 9 heart, she knew the beloved or that heart to be. , ‘ She felt assured that. his faith to the dewerless or~ ban would be kept more sacred than his pledge to he heiress. Full of this high trust shewrote to Whitney and told him the whole. - _ “ You sought me," said the letter “and loved me' as the heiress of t wealth, as the only daughter ‘ oil a mud and oh man. Allatonoe,asi1aflash' of hg tnm had swept across the horizon of in life revealing etruth with a single fie glee fin " myself the of a d mamnv’vhom I great an remember on the s ade 0! a visibn~and ot’a woman, lovely as she had been unfortunate—alive still, but kept from her child by bonds thatrhare yet proved too strong, even for theoyearnings of WW! nai love. t3 know that Dant lumbar-tilt, tathertom, su gosed grea wen u am t hep led inso vent, and that in his will neither wife nor child was mentioned. Therefore am I on Or- « ‘, phan, dependent upon those who are strangers to v , me in blood for the love that shelters me, for the ' ‘ wealth that has hedged me in with comfortsfrom mg cradle up. * " ‘ " Iam not-the n w om you lov -—not the teen whom two short days ago, I be ‘eved “fights to be. Clark 0 haned and out inheritance-M very birth 10 ed with doub and her hold on an living thing uncertain—still cairn the faith to M D., the heiress? No; like the rest, I resign t last and most redone hold on his past; You are! onora frmnmahsrefinslbflity '- arising from the faith you ~93! my , fiast 1156, I have nothing lett h ample name not _ " - , is but an extract of Myra’s lettsr‘to Hr. Whitn but it was enough to satisfy her deflate sense 0 onor. It set him free. ' It relinquished all claim upon his faith or his honor. Much in. {film letter; to melt am}!li tone: ha hgart w: agree score swe ng er roast, 'm.‘ consolation in pouring out the fee pressed her, where she was certain of sympath ... ~ , And Whitney answered therletter. He -* loved the heiress or the lofty name—shut Wanting , V noble-minded, the lovely, the beautiful.» I! Show “ an orphan, so much the better; he would be tawny, wealth, the world to‘her. He grieved/torhwsorma 1., butseemedtorevel-andreoxcemtheldea 4. having her all to himself. hiswas thotenorroi LT." Whitney’s reply, and Myra team denser-her ; f elastic nature gathered up its again She. .‘ became lproud of the pure and holy only '» grew b hter with adversity, and WM. priderekfiidlr edallheren es. “ Among the fine sceneryw , _ portions of the Delaware Bay, there. a V. I : ,oid. mansion-house, massive, and , ; deeper marks of antiqui y andfiristocmtte owner-g ship than are use found m a'eonntrywhere dwellings that have w thstood the ravagefdwhunw ‘ dred earsareseldomtobefound. Itwasa I . countz'y-placem lifted abovethebayandy ‘ ‘ ’ v lng one of the - estgirospeotsin . am' to spend the summer months, tered it, for the first time in her life, a . Lnrotound. wellness. This noble mom was «3. I have been her inheritance: she had spent all her girlhood in the shadows of its walks; she had learn- ed to love every tree and flower and shady nook that surrounded it—to love them as the home of her Ka- rents, the home that should hereafter shelter or andher children. Now she entered it sadly,.and with a feeling of desolation. I . With the visitors thatpame with Mr. D. to his country dwelling was a distant relation of the fam- ily, his wife, an two lovely children. To these per- sons the secth Myra’s birth was made known, - and to the lady, gountg and apparently amiable, «Myra sometimes ad or counse and sympathy. , . But to those persons the secret of Myra’s parentage 0 ed new and selfish hopes that forbade all gen- u no friendshi for the conflding irl. Myra, severed, by all ties of b ood from the. fam that had adopt- ' , ,e her, now seemed onl an obstacle in the way of . their own interests. he excessive love still ex- ' pressed for her both by Mr. D. and his angelic wife, —* seemed so much dearauded from the rights of their ~ I own * , , an t on the daughter and 'the heiress, , , touching confidence of the orphan f _. with treachery and dislike. Mr D. in revealing the secret oi; Myra‘s birth o lance, but the enerousgirl took no advantage of this most paint freedom. Under the sanction of her gentle mother—tor such Mrs. D. was ever to Myrrh—the young girl had still carried on. a corre- spondence with Mr. Whitney, and it was decided that j he should write to Mr. D. and again request per’ mission tovisit the young creature, who, without a daughter’s right, had no desire to evade a daugh- ter's obedience. Believing the acquaintance between Myra and her lover broken oi! by his own firm opposi ion. Mr. D. had not given up her union with another, which had been a favorite object with him. gnatlon may, therefore nod whenthe ld and res ectful letter of Mr, may reached him at D lace some few Weeklafter the retirement of his family to their mflwasion. It was early in the morning . letter came, and Mr. D. was alone wit his relatheand‘guest when he broke the seal. The s , that shook the proud man‘s nerves, the ~ “sharp exclamatlm that sprung from his lips, were ' . heirdhy‘ Myra as she passed into the breakfast ar ~ “grew, young lady!” said Mr. D. as Myra entered - _the.room; "here is a letter from that Whitne ' agility—a letter to me—asking permission to visxt you . for man _ ears astorils’hment and i i Myra drew a deep breath; in her agitation she had forgotten that this letter might be ex ted, and so iongdas her father’s anger had only t is source, she can withstand it. ' _ " Well. pa. and you will answer it?” said the young glr gently, but still with some tremor of the voice.” : , V‘ ' f’lwllli’lwastheangryreply; “Iwillansweritas . suchpresnmption deserves! I ‘ ‘9 «minimum, you will not for at that _ inns treatment! , , r " 'f .l forget nothing,” was the curt reply; and with- ~ out further {moment Mr. D. left the room, and in after an old colored man was galloping , H ilmington, with a letter directed to Mr. ' Whitney in his packet. What that letter contained address, had t notbéen written black as night on the angry forehead oer.yD. when he sat down to breakfast, that moi-n . , A few days went lay—days of keen anxiety to poor Myra and has is mother; than was. the oung , girl sanian once more to-the presence of r. 1) efeund- him white with rage—deeper and more ‘ rage his fine features had evor exhibit— .06 Wore; a , tier m clinched tightly in his hand; 24 , ' , a , ; HIS LAWFU‘L'WlFEQ those who had flattered and , ", hm?“ ,it‘were. thrown of all claim to her filial - Mr. Whitney is 3 gentleman and deserving o courte—" havebeen eased fromthe hasty and blot, his fingers worked convulsiver around the crushed dressed the treman l. r as he on insulted, ‘ Twice—twicein my “life have ' rll By our-rather once~by$§urlover now. He. mi scomin‘ ere! Hewillbein n nin few WI he? Let him come: but as I ive-—as live, da s gir he shall never leave that lace alive! This in-’ suit shall be stoned then and t ere." Myra shuddered, her pale lips refused to utterthe ' I words that sprung to them, and she stood before the angry man'with her hands clasped, but motionless as a statue. At length she gathered strength to ut- ter a single sentence. . - ' “Father, you will not challenge Mr. Whitney? It would be terribleiit would kill me.” “If he comes Within my reach, it he dares to in- trude his presence even into the neighborhood, he shall answer it with his life or mine!” was the stern ‘ reply. CHAPTER XIII. uvna’s SACRIFICE. MYRA turned away trembling and heart-sick; she knew that this was no idle threat, no mere burst of vivid passion that would die within the hour. Her lover would be in Wilmington in arfew days; it was a firm but courteous announcement to this eflect that had so exasperated the man whom she had just e t. “Mother—mother. he will not do this thing—he will not meet Mr. Whitney with a challenge!" cried the harassed oung creature, throwing herself into the agi‘nds of . ., who stood in the chamber of erc l . “I fear it, alas! he deems himself braved and in. I suited,” said the good lad , weeping bitterly. “0h, Myra! why did weperm t Whitney to w te—why consent to his coming to the neighborhood?” “.Why, wing indeed! if‘it is but to meet his deathi’ or! the poor girl, wringing her hands. .i-‘Bélt, mother, this cannot be; .my father will re. en .’ , Mrs. D. shook her head. “ Not where he deems his honor or authority contemned, my poor girl!" “ Oh, what can we do—what can we do?” “ His anger is so terrible—if you could but give ngfilldhoughts of the man; if you only could, my C l . .Myra withdrew from her mother’s armsi her slight form seemed to dilate. and nerve itse f for some great effort. The tears hung unshed upon her e clashes, and her lips werepressed firmly together. he weights that swept across her sweet face wore quick an painful; she soarcely seemed to breathe, go intense was the struggle Within that motionless osom. I _ “Mother.” she sai in a low and has “ mother I will give h m up. It is to save s life or the life of your husband; 1 will give him up!" While the unhappy lady stood wondering at the strange calmness with which these words were spoken, Myra passed down-stairs‘once more, and stood in her father‘s presence, calm, resolute. but very sorrowful. "Father, I love the man whom you would chal- lenge, whonfiyou would force to the extremities of life or death. ow dearly, how wholly I love him, you can never believe, or this agony would have been _s red me. Father. you know of his coming, he is a BMW on the way; thus it is out of m power to grevent that which so ofl'ends you. Let lm come; 6 him depart m peacesand here I solemn never t0 Speak tojnm again. . Father, I give in up, but itis to save his life or yours!" The oun ‘rl ~ ‘ had utaredg Kl ceased speaking, the wordswsihe were renounced hurriedly and th firmness. but the w it’e lips, the heavy trouble that clouded her eyes with something more touching than hears. revealed all the heroism of her sacrifice. it was, strange to see so much heroism 'a termites . gentle and so frail; it was strange that ' is been spirit of self-swam should prove powerless to. curl; voice. ' 7 msnmmm . ’ [I ,‘ i ‘ y L o l , ' u _ i' '1 V I. L , "I > Y s t the mailint i t atpossessed the road man I will be cautious dear, young, lady. I willhc 7 before whom :Eeflhafihpleaded; but his guswer was cautious asyou could ’wish. -‘ r ' relentless. ‘ “I am sure of it “No!” he replied. “That which I have said ,is i imutable! If this man comes so near my house. as _ t 1e next town, he shall answer for the presumption > With his life, or I will sacrifice mine!" - , . . Myra stood fora moment looking in that frown- In face, and as she gazed her own became painfully on m. . “My father, once again—once again reflect, it is more than life that I- offer you for this!" she said, and her voice grew‘softer, as if tears were swelling iu’its tones once more. " ‘ “That which I have said I abide byl" was the stern reply. ‘ . , Myra ended no longer; but turned and left the room. n the nipper hall she met her mother. "Does he re cut—will he accept the sacrifice of a your ofl’er?”questioned the anxious lady. , r i > “No, mother he refuses; he seems athirst for the life of this noble young man; but I will. save him, I . will save them both." , ‘ ‘ , “ How, my child? how can you, so frail and help less, strugle against the strong will of our father?" “iWill save the house. Iwill no onger remain ggergi innocent and honorable loveleads to scenes 9 5.” ~ < “What. leave fiyour mother—your own '-fond mother? yra, my child. my child!” “Hush, mother: dear, dear mother; these tears they make me weak as an infant. I! you weep and cling to me thus, mother, my strength may fail; and do you not know that death may follow fond, too - --death to our‘husband or to mine for is he not my h and before God, do yen think, sweet mother?“ But Mrs. D. , orgy wept. and clung more fondly to her daughter. yra withdrew herself gently from r t t Warm clasp, and went away. On the morrow ,Mr. Whitney ~~w0uld be in Wilmington. and before ‘ gigging; young girl had much to accomplish—much All that day Myra avoided the family. above all the gentle mother, whose tears she feared far more than the anger of her proud father. She had formed a resolution that required all her courage, and more . strength than seemed to animate that slender form. There was an old servant in the family, ‘with whom Myra from her childhood had been it sort or idol. This man, early in the afternoon, mi ht have been seen ridin .toward Wilmington at a brisk trot, and with some ittle anxiety in his manner. When he reached the town the old man entered a dwsll- mg where he was received by two brl ht and Joy- ous-looking oung ladies, who greeted im eagerly. and in ulre for news of his-young mistress, while the 01 511%? was searching in h 3 pockets for a hastily- billet, which he, at length. produced with no little, mysterious im rtance. One of the young ladies tore open the bi st, and began to read: “ Sit up for me tonight. dear girls,” thus the bil- let commenced. “sit in till morning unless I come beforel; you will certainly see me during- the night; then will explain this hasty message. It may storm; no matter, I shall surer be with you. -- I “ MYRA." The young ladies looked at each other, wholly eta 1083 to guess‘the reason of this singular message but . M a had promised to explain all, and so they silo». edv'me old man to depart unquestioned. Long before the faithful messes r returned. Mym m , standing in the humble walling of an, Outdoor dependent in whom. she could trust. ' u Ana you am determined, Miss Myra?" was the man’s Question as he stood by $119 door- .. Yes: obey my directions exactly as they are given. thaws an I require of you. Remember to come yr the 01d camgge route. not along the new —-you might meet company them ’ ’ ..devoid of strong passions, but - trams, and possessmg a sort 0 , she said. was the mild and grateful rc- ply; and with a heating heart Myra went been to the house which was soon to be her home ,no. Ion er. r , . e relation whom we haVe mentioned was still at 1). Place, and his wife, with her two beautiful chil- dren, occuglied a room near that up opriated to M rs, and 0 this room the oung 31 se t after returning from friends. ’ v . . _ Myra found her father’s guestin cheesy-chan- near the window. She was a quiet,tra§q§ili aging“ from its ver want of active spirit was calcmued to deceive. Sh); knew that discontent and disunion were active in the dwelling, and after her usual inert manner was waiting for some result that might saw Myra enter her room with a glow upon her cheek, . ples, this woman droo (1 her eyelids to conceal all jrexpression of by this agitation kindled in her bosom, but her ook was tranquil, her voice full of - symvgath as she addressed the young girl. ‘ ou “ You know,” answered Myra, in 'a “ on know what be 1 inc—for much dope , do you believe that i Mr. Whitney should arrive in Wilmington to-morrow, my, father would and him. out and {hit his cruel threat into execution?" ‘ ' " Has 1e not said it, Myra?" ‘ , r . ‘ a A _ “mun if you think so——you who always look on events so still and paSSionless—Jmave’hut to it), L you seine," on," said Myra, in accents that bespoke all the this conviction fastened on her/ yo heart ‘ “ What do you mean, Myra—«what is it tem late?" said the confidante, withagleam of fee on in her downcast eyes. satin-e t “I am going from this betookvher- j t e visit to her humble I gentle craft that: l ‘4 7~5c§s5 7 ‘ prove beneficial to herself and children. When she . ut pale as death about the mouth and tem- " ‘ ook anxious, nay. ill, my sweet friend," h, ‘t ~sad~ has passed to-dayin this he .-; ‘ ‘ nds on your answer-Joli, me. ' house “to-night. Before Mr. Whitney reaches Wilmington, I will see him and” " prevent this meeting." “ You MyraiL- ou—what will What will the word think .9” ' " It is to save his!" answered soul tells me that I am right." The wily confidante drop her head ages her hand, when she fell into a moment’s though . With! , 0'? 30 ex; :. all her apparent apathy, she knew we“ cite the resolution of a generous and ardent like Myra’s, while seeming to ounces arguments that .she used a}: sad those Selfish considerations who were. sure to be cast away with disdain by the young cream , whom the were 'ur§ed,'and Myra went out the interv ew more mp operation. The storm that had been threatening on at niglliatfeallthvgith all theitaush and empeSt u s scene so _ ment an’dlwifii wish for actian which swelled k the oun ' ir ’s cart, even as e 7 gtrugglgd without. She sat by the wisdom wreaths and sheets of silv your-“fathersayt' Myra. sit: . _ entirely to from ; tossed than eves-with $110,... necessity of putting her project into ;' violence eta ‘ well with the ‘ k elements heaved and. * ' I i u . . - th rain swee » wnwam‘ia'. upon the storm, 8 Vfipintgrmmvww: ,li htn'n Jared over it' a afar or! the, . . , . g I g 3 into sighté'as itwere. from thevvciy. I bay, heavin bosom of arkness, an sinking hack gain when ~ . this lightning withdrew tromthesweep _ ushers . - n . , , _ W, K. ',‘ _ r- l I . y Y 'Mi'. D., full of unrest as the elements. was n3 . v the veranda—his face was l gleam of lightning, and he ‘ on down. one , , conscious or headless .ot the water rifts that no" and then swept over him. Poor liyra sat watching v him; the storm within her own breast and the tome post without imparted to her spirit a wild and reeks. ~~ - s. _ ’ . less courage.» She s ped out on the veranda: the . rein heat in her we gigs, the lightning lared'across = I - 1 her eyes, alread more brilliant; s e met her ‘; j, v father in his and touched his arm with her cold ,hand. , . ' “Father,fatherl you have reflected. Oh so that 1 you will not prove eMr. Whitney into th s eath- :w’ - strife when he comes.” ' Mr. D. paused for one moment, a shade of irreso- » , ,_ lntion swept across his features but it left them ' more pale, more resolute than before: he turned away without a Word of answer, and Myra disap- , t night, close upon the hour of twelve. a. man stood near a back en rance of Mr. D. ’s dwelling With his ear bent to the door, listeninzr , At last, amid the storm. he heard a key turn and a bolt withdrawn; thenthe door swung o and Myra ‘ up red wrapped in a la e shawl an standing by aim trunk which the s ender girl had'dragged step by step down the lofty staircase. _ I ' f‘Ca it carefully; there is neither lock nor key; :’ it Was 1: e only one I could reach," she whispered, « draggi, '11:: her humble, burden toward the man, who swung t, to his shoulders and disappeared in the darkness. ~ " Awslk of some distance brought them to a car- , riage which stood waiting back of the stables; the - etc were down, the horses and vehicle all drenched , witf rain, and furiousl shaken by the wind, stood » ready toreceive her. he sgrung. ale and breath ~ -- less, into the frail shelter. or ai hful friend was ’ ‘ about to mount the seat. I , i “Que word,” said Myra, bending her white face fir into the storm' “the turnpike gate-won may be ' knmvnthere if t a man sees you. if this man calls, , .ot speak: the gate is old, the horses good, the ., carriage siren ; be resolute, and drive on as if z-znothing was: in the way. Do you understand? . i - the old. gamfdowm and that without a word. " ' lo n; your way back again." ' ~“I’wli drive through the gate; never fear." was 131:1: mmpt reply, and the man 23ng to his a f night was intense] dark. and he only kept the road by the gleams o lightning- that ever and men ’, flushed over it. At length they came tothe turnpike . gatethat stretched its sodden timbers in a dark line acrossrthe road. The tempest was high, and every ,3. - precauticnwas made to avoid the least noise, but twofold toll: atherer had a well-trained and most . acute-ear. net as the driver was dismouutin to ‘try the look of his gate, out came. the old man,‘ alf- , -, .dremedmnd with a candle in his hand that flared 1 . out the moment it felt the breath of the tempest. I ammo“; who goes there?“ shouted the old fol-l om , I . p ' Myra leaned from the carriage: “Not award»- jf, neatly; whip~down with the gate—but not a single V s'iirnrsweep of the whip followed—«a plu We. :j " smile—and then over the broken boards and through c was swept awg. the black storm, the carting Along the dark roaddt toiled, pelted with rain. in overturned every instant by a sw-gep of the wind, - that'vkept risin stronger and higher, till on every ‘ handrose the“ , aunt shadow of many a dark- ” eneddWelling. and, n their midst a single light » glea‘rned like a star. 1 r ‘9 hey are up—they are waiting!" exclaimed Myra, with a burst of grateful joy as she saw this , _ light; “Now. my friend~my good, kind friend—- " goulmustgonofurther: even they must not see you. top borer aet- my'trunk on the walk: I will find the . wsv m f nhw ” ‘3 "the ' n’wonla ham'wtfid against thisbut -; _ if awasfirm,audthem ntbatwild stormshe stood , ' t Athens ' ewasont of sight. Then she seized ' the trunkhy e handle, and straining every nerve .infher delicate frame b the effort. dragged it towards window wheres e saw two young, beauti 96:! _. ” sis-Lawson Winn _ . - 'e mania/as obliged to drive very slowly, for the ful faces ng anxiously-out, as if they were ' searching orsome lovedvob ect in the darknessu , All at once those faces disap aired, a sound of §lad welcome came toward the. cor, and the next notant Myra. , ting with fatigue, white a‘sde’ath, and drench through and thrOugh, till the rain drifped like a rivulet from her garments, was folded in he arms of those noble~hesrted girls. _ CHAPTER XIV. A woms’s mumm'rMEN'r AND A ns’s 33110882. ant Myra was exchanging her drenched gar- ments and partakin of those refreshments which ,her is. e and comfort ess ride rendered so n cessary, she related to her youn friends the cause of this sudden abandonment 0 her home: and they, with all the warm enthusiasm and vivid romance of youth. entered into her feelings and lens. . - “And, now," said M ra'after all Yield been told “let us deliberate on t 8 best step. At daylight i must start for New Castle, and thence to Baltimore in time to prevent Mr. Whitney taking the boat. He must not approach Wilmington. Who will go with me? Where can I rest for a few hours in secrecy?" “ Who will go with you? Wh , father, of course," exclaimed one of the youn gir s, enterin heart and soul into the interests of er friend here can you rest? Have we not a brother married and Set- tled at New Castle. who knows and lovos you, even as we 1do? His wife will receive you, and joyfully enoug . ’ ‘ Myra arose. her sweet face animated and spark- ling with ratitude; she threw her arms around the younigir and kissed her. * “0 . what friends you are, how .1 love you," she said, in her own frank, joyous way, turnin to" the other sister and pressing her forehead with fips that lowed with generous feeling. “It is worth while- avmg a litte trouble, if it were only to prove Such hearts as yours. I shall never forget this night: never to my dying day.” v “ Oh, it is quite like a. romance, Myra," exclaimed the youu er of the girls, shakin back her rin lets, With all: tlaugh. “Here we ad been for ours. and hours watching at the window, with the rain ‘ beating-and peiting on the glass close to our faces and exactly like two characters in shovel. Then between the flashes of‘ lightning and the rain that absolutelyceme down in sheets—I never saw any- thing hke it in my life—you come toiling u to the door, like some poorlittle fairy shut out in t e storm -—your face so wet and pale, and your eyes floating like diamonds, and your black curls all'dripping " with rain. Upon my word, Myra, there was some- _, thin geartilély inhabits:titfia’llfli M , .' ups was . ~, sa smilin at the . vivid fancy of her young friend?“h Had the nizht been calm and everything quiet, I should have felt it more. , The storm gave inc/courage Had it been asoft moonlight evening, when I could hate seen, , the old trees. the flowers. and all those sure at objects that poor momma and I have loved to look u n so often when the moonlight was on them, ngould’ hardly have found strength to leave them all. Poor, ' , poor mamma. how she will grieve: it will be a sad mornin for her." . N ‘ Myra wed her head as she spoke. and her dark eyes filled with tears. The young EMS gazed “13°” her With saddened countenances. Thissorrow, so natural. so true, it was somethingto chill all their light ideas of romance. " There was silence for a time. for the young ’rls» respected the'g‘rlef of their friend, then the ol est arose and leaning over Myra’s chair. be Balm?! gentle delicacy to smooth and arrange. be light gasses that hadbeen so completely disordered, by 8 8 arm. “ And when you have found Mr; Whitney, If a, . i when you have prevented the meetinghow wll it!" x. / I who loves you.” wh end? ' In a wedding and a reconciliation at the great ' house no doubt ’ said the sweet girl, anxious. to» draw iJGl‘ friend from the painful reverie into which she had fallen. “ N02" answered Myra. brushing the tears from her GIGS; ‘ I ex ct nothing like a reconciliation. When Iabandon D. Place last night, it was with no tholights of return. I gave upcverytlliug then.” “ verything but love—everything but the man her friend; ‘f Even love—even im——I gave up all. Do you think that l have a dream of ma inghim now? That I intend to surround m self with the vul ar oclat of a ‘ runaway match 7’ t was to save his ife that Ilei’t my home. I will meet him on the way, warn him of myfather’s hatred, and free him of all the engagements that have existed between us a . “ And where will you go then, dear friend ?" “1 have relatives in the West Indies, as Lhave been told. and I had resolved toseek their protection before leaving home." ~ “ Then there will be no wedding after all. and we shall lose you alto therl” cried the young- girl. he}; in tears at the t oughts of this abrupt separa- l . , ' ‘ ‘- ,. “Notforever; I am surewe shall meet again,” answered Myra,'castingan anxious glance through I the window, for the conversation was arousing old giggling:th keenly within her. . " But it will soon be y . ’ ’ ‘ even then. Instant y there was a bustle of pre " I ave just amused father, and told him all; he will go with you“ to NewCastle," said the younger girl, who had been absent from the room. “ he stage starts by daybreak." Daybreak! The 0ray of morning was in the sky para- tion in that little bedroom. Myra’s garments. that had been drying bylhe lire. were hastily crowded 1 into the trunk; a fathom or two was cut from the 'N Castle. { The storm had swept over the freshness and beauty behi I of the highway, Myra c bed-cord. that her ill-secured baggage might have the best protection their means orded. and at the appointed time all was ready for Myra's departure. Amid tears and affectionate embraces Myra parted, with her oung friends. and before the deep blue of night 11 fairly left the sky, she wa . on her route to ew The , 6 had no pasaengers except Myra and her kind a tendant. so in the stillness o the morning , she had nothingto distract her thoughts from the ‘mournful channel into which they naturally turned; earth, leaving only over the road were vivid With moisture, Over which the rising sun fell With sparkling and genial warmth. _ g The atmosphere was full of cool. rich fr rance. and every gush of air. aslt awe )t through is e pon- derous vehicle tliat bore Myra rom her home, was 8 .. delicious to bros h . Ever and anon. as the stage followed the windings oul obtain a. view of her former-home: silent. stately and refreshed as it were. by the night storm. it arose before her tearful eyes. he rend old mansion, lifted on a terrace of hills above helevel on which she traveled. could be seen for miles and miles around. and thus at every turn the noble feat I of all that she had given u wore spread out be ore her“ gaze as if moo her loneliness, or w it their grandeur tempt her , return. J our oun traveler found her friends at New Cas- tle wilHng tg aid her, as the 83mm“ 1‘18 in W1" min at had been. It was arranged hatch old at man, rather of the lady whose roof had given 1. to me on girl, should proceed with her to Baltimore.- an wit this most unexce tlonable es- cort M ra} set farm, With the gent eman whose house she had left, she intrusted a notewhich was to be delivered to Mr. Whitneyrfibomd he by chance eve taken 9 in the boat expected "I a few hours from altimore. 7 - ms LAWFUL. WIFE. ad. The trees that beat, - I “in. - Anxious hurried. and half ill with excitement. ‘ .Myra and her companion reached Baltimore just in time to learn that a gentl man bearing the name 0! Whitney had taken pas, go in a boat which-had passed them on their way. - , _ ' Agitated b fresh fearsand wild With dreadthat’ the meetin etween her father and her lover might take place :2 spite of all her efforts, the poor girl had no resource but to return with hex-companion. ~ in the wild hope that her note might. reach Mr. Whitney at New Castle, and thus preyent his ro- - ceedin on his route. By the return boat t y reache . _ more, and there to her astonishment and dirma ,. -Llyra found that a person of like name. butnos t 0. Mr. Whitney whom she sought to§reserve from per-f \ . *1"? ilin his life. had assed through ew.Castle. Itgwas now begond the day aflpomted for her lover's arrival, and without any nowledgeof the ‘ time when he would pass through Baltimore. Mm ‘ ' no better means of meeting him on the way t by remainin quiet! with her friends till he should reach New (fastle. be kind clergyman. who had so kindly given his protection to the adventurous girl, arranged that a. strict watch should he kept at the landing. Thus day after day passed by. during which poor Myra suffered all the irksome pains of Suspense. has) . yet 'dre ‘ the up arance of _ her lover. an haunted with a car that :- incensed " parent might find out her place of shelter. and, thus render all renorts to prevent mischief of no avail, But thus harassed and, worn out. she had only one resource. To walla—wait. To a nature ardent and impetuous as hers. this was a weary trial. 80 l as she had any thing to do. the excitement of V, I elm.- r ‘ kept up her courage, but this life of inactive ‘ tation wore upon her nerves. and she began-m (troop like abird fettered in its cage. Thus she- ered three da 3. im risom-d b V , m thesolitudeo here amber.w en the eventwhich' she had most fearedbrought new agitation to her already overtaxed spirit. Aftel' days {of vain. and anxious search her parents had 'found out the place . of her retreat. - It often happens that persons of strange: and erli’iil o aniza ion become the slaves or their own w: an cool 5 out. merely because'that will has been expresse . Pride. stern. commanding pride. such as must have been the characteristic of a man like. Mr. D., shrinks from the confession of I * ,1 which a change of pui pose too sure! acknowledges» ' After that night of storm. had wrestled with his better feeling . wrestled with his fear, to conquer both to find his daughter gone. Like the lig , had disappeared. leavmg him nothing to coats against. 1: first he would not believe the‘truth. even the wild anguish of his wife. who had child. and refused to be comerted, seemed less He would not believe in the eifect of violence; but when the day , - _ messenger after messeu er returned,vbearing'ae tidi s durgg could no ‘lo fir be, held under {con Strong as his pride 0 authorit . deep and earnest as his nature was his love for’trhe yo less" it” ream-ear“. new... or van ow H no answergosave that he had willed her to according to, his wxsh wrestle with her afle girl , es. and f found her unable to V ction; i 88,..ehadwrestird with. v the lightning. And now all the injustice of this old I p ‘ u stinate adhesion to his own will became palpable to him. as it» had 10 been to who had suffered * by it. With the iufiulse ofa heart really his or would have" van for the pxivi , of h ' ; once more if} his bosom. pain! ecsslty of explanation. But a sleepless u again followed by search and disappointment. na- ":=, ,1 ' ' ' L ” V -.-I’—;-’r‘ ” .. a s. . , A I. . V the home of their generous friends once ' had an;- herown freewiilp " act in opposition to their best feelings and ' ‘ . .. - V on; \ _ of his daughter. he anguiah‘which bobcat. ; s r at .agnanimit he 10 editomakerr goehisneh ld._ Theyhalf single real: Wan ! EH, , ins LAWFilL wins. "Ida followed day, and at. length rhesus . pause. wh ch had become terrible to hear, "was ,1 alloyed; Myrg‘s. retreat at New Castle was made ' ’ ~ CHAPTER xv. ' A HAPPY unsounnam'. Wu have said. that in the house of Mr. D. there ' wasa relative and guest, to whom the departure o Myira from her home opened hopes of influence and ill mate gain, which were stron enough to arouse call the cupidity of his nature. his man had. with . insidious meekness, reanimated the dis uiet of. the a household, and with his soft words and all y manner, poured oil on the wrath of Mr. D.. when he saw it yielding to the generous dictates of‘aflection He \ , excited the fears which drove Myra from her home through the soft duplicity of his wife, and .j - now it, Was his great desire to revent an interview. _. ‘ or‘the least chance of reconc- iatlon between the ‘ > ,4 oung {girl and her parents. Thisman had found . _ little d il‘lculty in tracing Myra from the first, but , knowledge was kept secret until he found that “ * Mr. D was certain to hear of her movements from other sources; then he openly claimed the merit of _ .7 great exertions in finding out her place of shelter, . _ and Volunteered, with the most disinterested air " imaginable, his influence in persuading the young girl to return home. “Glad to save himself the humiliation and pain of entreaties. from which his. proud nature revolted, '_.Mr. D._was well pleased to accept the friendl offer. and it was this man's arrival at New Cast e. that ; startled Myra from the little repose she had been . enabled to. obtain. Mr. I). had an‘ilhorized his mes- , Sangerto induce Myra‘s return by gentle persua- ‘ by frank and generous promises that all should . be forziven, all forgotten. - ‘ asaw this'man. and he gave Mr. D's mes. r M: ' faithfully, even the caressing words, of Mrs. 93:17. Were notwithheld; but when he saw tears swell . 'ii and fill the line eyes which Myra turned upon a v m ashegave’ the message—when he saw a gush , - .on passionate tenderness sweep across her face. the or». h s.' hisdmtncastlook, the com r’cssion of his mouth; inll told that sometliino hm been ke t back. He ‘ seemed struggling with himself, an Myra saw V that all was not as it should be ' .; g - After much anxious questioning. the man con- , sentedto speak. but it was only out of the deepest , ,‘ and most self-sacrificing friendship to her. i was ~ Wgth’e layer of Mr. D. forever. but st l he «. would speak. He wouli not urge a creature so .7 ‘ level to rush blindfold into the power of ‘ y amonexaspera ‘d as‘Mr..D was against her. True, « ' all theseprcimisedhad been sent: but in reality, the ’ hatch! her other had only been aggravated against . " . ._Whitne ,by her flight. Mr. D. was im lacable c a ' ,jg‘g'ever, an instead of receivin? his child w th kind~ ' -' ' nose. his's’ole desirewas to winjiier by false protes- itatioiis into his power again, and then punish her with all his haughty strength. ' All this Was repeated With the most perfect ap- - ‘ .‘arance of sincerity. PThe truth seemed to have . ' en, vwrested from this man’s heart. only by the .solemn obligations of friendship. Myra. was very .. atefui for his friendly warning, and the traitor It her strengthenei in, her purpose. but With an aching and desolate heart. . ‘ lint anhour after this interview. Mr Whitney ar- 3.3154. at new Castle. Various reasons for delay had \ kept him behind his appointment. but Myra’s agent 7 g hadjbeen vigilant. and her note reached him as he left the‘boat. Y He came directly to the residence of . ' her friend. ignorant 01.9.11 that had tran mud to drive M up from the protection or herown ome. whimsy had-ls ,( _ Wham, with joyous ‘aniLlClpathDS-She met ( v "him. now is and droo lug, her e es heavy with ,_jtears.her¥31m swayed gy the wei t'of her grief, .' o .g, . changed gradually in his manner. His eye," is the young girl gay. blooming . like the stalk of a flower on which the. dew has fallen too heavily. ,, . ~ * .e ‘ , ., “And now," he said, when she had told him all, “ there is but one course for us to ursue, and‘that. thank H” on, is one to secure our appiuess. This r 2f man it”. “it” our father and has no_ legal authority ~ overég‘w {will not speak of his injustice to me—of his haw“ ass to you-for in fortner years i know that he been kind." I ‘ ' Myra’s eyes filled with grateful tears. ‘ There was lslomgthinlg in this gentle forbearance that touched er eep y. _ “Let us be united now. M‘yra; no one has authori- ty over you. I am, in all th ngs independent!" , It was hard to resist that pleading voice, those eyes so full of hogeful tenderness, but Myra drew away her hand wit an air of gentle dignity. and a painful smile parted her lips. - “ No," she said. -“ no, I am. here of my own will, unsolicited, unexpected. It must not be said that 1 your wife ran away from her father’s roof onlyto be married." ' , y , The p r " ‘elfcacy with which this was spoken -—so earnest ” 9" complicity—left no room for a doubt. Mr. Whitney did not plead With her. thoughgreatiy disappointed: he merely took her hand. With a smile. and said; “But this seems like rejectinrr me altogether. Surely there is too much of ride ere. Would you suffer thus to save a life. an then render that life valueless, Myra?” The color came and went on M ra's pale cheek. 1 Now that he was by her side, her mind in. his, those ; eyes upon her face, the poor girl felt how impossible 2 it was to part from him forever. . s . “I have friends—relatives in the West Indies,“ she said: “let me go to them; Come to me there, with the. frank and full consent of your parents tooui- union. and I will be your wife.’ ‘ ' ""No. not there. not so far. In Philadelphia—let me place you under the protection of your friends there. I will visit my parents—their presence and full consent shall sanction our marriage Will not this arrangement satisfy even your delicacy, he- ioved ?" ' Again the warm rose tinge cattle» and went on Myra’s cheek, and the tears that, still swam in her eyes grew bright as diamonds with the smile that broke through them. - * "Yes? she said, “this is enou h.” Three iv; "‘3 from that timefiilyra and her lover were on ‘f h way to Philadelphia. but the good clergyman and hlS_ wife went with them from New _ . Cast ., efileft their charge with her friends. while Mi;i Win . .y proceeded to the home of his parents. n 9 d now, when the necessity for resistance was gone. the reaction of all this Wild excitement swept over and prostrated her. Likes plant that'keeps green so long as the frost is in its leaves. but withers and di'oops With the first glow of sunshine, her strength gave way, and there was ‘a time when her very life seemed in ,eopar‘dy. . ‘ Thus weak and cable, poor Myra lav upon her couch inthe quiet loom of her sick-chamber, and shrinking/from the s iglitest sound. with that sensi- tive dread which was itself a ain, she heard a noise upon the stairs. It seemed 1i e the .hesitatiug tread o amen. blended with the eager and "suppressed remonstrance of some person who desired to check his progress. Myra began, to tremble; She lifted h ‘r pale 'hanrl. put back' the tresses from her temp 8. and made a faint efl‘ort to lift. her head from her pillow but in vain. ‘ ' My child—my child refuse to see her father? I “ limes" will not believe it!" . ., “Fatheri father!" broke from the lips of that !again], and she sunk .on her Pillow gasping for All was hushed, then the door opened softly.» and .. through the gloom which hung1 around. her couch, MYra saw the stately form of _t 8 old man. who had ‘ SO 10112: been her father. His face was pale. and _ ’ '1, I; ms Lawson ma: r i ’ ‘ tears Stood upon his-cheek. as be bent dowu and kissed her forehead. « Myra smiled, and drawing a doe breath, closed her eyes, and then opened them ' look or touching love. a ,_ r .t “ Father!” " My child l" ‘ I '- The old; man sat down With her hand?" began smoothing the slender fingers wi " Ralm. as he had done so oftenrin her chil . . ttle act brought a world of pleasant old memories back to Myra’s heart, one after another. gently, and p‘ ed her other hand in the old man’s ' m. _ " r He bent down and kissed the two little hands he clas ed in his. t“ nd momma?" whis red Myra. . “Your momma has con pining. for her 'chlld, Myra, and I here to take you home ain.’ - ant on ate bim—you—~you—-” e poor girl broke o with a shudder ‘ “ No,*I will like him for your sake, love!" was the tier lashes. . = The old man now smiled, as he saw the tremulous joy his words had brought to that pale face. ‘ We will have the weddin at D. Place, and when r {on go away again. Myra, i must not be without an ass 11 .’ ’ ' “0h. papa. I am so happ ," whispered the poor 'rl, drawing a deep breat . She did not unclose ~ . or eyes again. but .a. sweet placidity stole over her face, and she fell into a calm sleep, the first that hindh visited he'r eyelids in many a long day and i n g t. ‘ Never had D. Place looked more beautiful than it appeared on the dav when Myra returned to it, With her baggy father. The fine old building, with all its sun-on ing trees. was bathed in a flood of sunshine that hung/over the: whole landscape like the mist of a bridal veil. The servant‘s, were all out to receive their young mistress as s ? alighted, from the car- ridge: Myra had smiles in“ all; but as her eyes tell ggon the gentle mother, who had loved her so devot- . 1y, theiyour? girl broke away her eyes oil 0 tears, and threw herself into the arms that were joyouslv opened to receive her “Oh, momma, inever expected to be so happy again 1” shecried shaking‘back her curls and gazing .upon the face other-mo er with al s thrilling WWW ' ~ é affection. “ But {more pale. mamiiie _, , ” é "‘ No, not now; ut I am ve , very h , Myra. ' ‘ “ But I have only brought her home she may . leave us ain," said Mr. D.,‘ with a frafl smile. as his wife him out one hand to welcome him, while the'other still clung to her child; . '~ ..“I'know. I know; but that is quite a different Q agiswered the happy mother, drawing Myra to to huge. '* r » ~ , ML 9-, was not a loan to make partial atonement , for anon-or. A romp-t and urgent requ worded to Mr. itney and his parents that they should/make D. Place, and not Philadelphia, the V destination of their journey. Meantime every ars - rangement was, commenced for the wedding. and thus Myfi's pathi ofe'life lay, among blosso ms and in 3 he an. H thfdififjgvhitnegrgcame at last, and with him, the re- vered parent, ,whose consentto his son’s marriage had been frankly Elven- M Young . , You shouad have seen yra fir orcame down the massive staircase in her» hrid dress that wedding-night. Her . 4563,35ng r ’1“ as a m 1 9013’?» War“ gifidgfiedasmafl, The fragradoeof a few m o ' floated through her ringlets. and- wmte lossoms ‘ts sli per of snowy satin grié‘ianséggéddlg itxtnlich the stairs on she do2 to receive the Open “$335 feminine er own P96“ scend . , Whitney stood b his With . « i like drops, ' of cool dew u on a half-blighted flower. She turned r murmured blessings—perchance a few teaméfor r ” “ kind reply - v, M ra osed her eyes, and tears Br» gough the S ' one to the little Eden with news that would, 'ret her‘cheeks glowing, ' , nuance of our, court's, ‘Wit est was for— . ’ sea of Zulima’s marri * gave sue tools of atairyoung creature. ‘ on a battle where such tear! grace she met him; the glow upon her cheek took a deeper roseotintas she laid her small hand. in his. ; r y, > The bridegroom was very tall, and this’gave to , I . ‘ Myra a look still more feminine and childlike, as she stood by his side. . , V , ’ ‘ - > ‘ “Age you ready, dearest?" he said, bending gently ' .over er. v , .- She‘ gave a faint start, and lifted her large brow‘n ' eyes to his With a smile of mach deep love and hely’ w trust, as seldom~ looks up from a soul merely t oinext“ human. That smile was ansWer enough. moment they stood within the ,‘hroad ‘ ,_ flooded the drawing-r0011)“. A few word's-«a few the tears of afiectionate regret are sometimes the bri htest 'ewels that can be casn at the feet of vbri e—an then Myra Clark became a wife. g CHAPTER XVI. "ran armour: noun. 3 In a- quiet village of New York. Myra Whitney made her home with the man who had won her a ainst so much opposition and amid so many ' ’ 9 .had cast 01! the splendor of her oldullte. and, ,, ' Shaun the fortunes of her husband. began anew , ..'j and stll more noble existence; but directly came - {Worth and toreVermore drive qdiet away from _ r- omeo v ~ ~ ~: v Amen who was well acquainted with the x“ that had been practiced on the infant hem ‘ ' t, out the young ride and told her of the vast. _‘ W i illegally withheld from her by the executorso't' r Daniel Clark’s estate—told her of ,whioli, , stirred the proud blood inher veins more'warmiy3 than an idea of wealth could have donefithoidvuht ’ that 11, been craftin thrown on her own altitude? and thus on the fair fame of her mother, 4, From that day all hope .of repose fled hap y home. A slow duty was fore her—effing, ‘ eving the wrongs heaped on her mother. o , wresting the honorable name of a father, whoafioim , worshiped even in his memory, from the odimlm 2 had been fastened upon his actions. Joinedto‘.‘ this, was the natural ambition of a highopirimd ' proud young woman to claim or two? «a . . the world, and to endow the man oi! her , with j wea th, {usfly her own, but of which he 1' unconsc ous at the time of- their marfiageiannd new ,1 commenced that stem strife between notice“:- fraud which has for so many years h “her”. um , went to New Orleans, and there 1 ' threads of evidence which, iaid't e‘in'i and had darkened her whole life, here belong“ There she found Madame De-Gordetw, her, the Zuhme; of our story. and there, forfthei‘m time, she learned all the domesticromjairoé ;., own history. The anguish that renewed her: mother, the, remorse and» solemn” mammalian had marked the closing hoarse! heriatherlsflifein' “ But the vast Wriypf Daniel scattered far no do by theme-11 who it} in trust. The personal-pro fly,th 1-, first, then tract after tract 0 land, block t. of real estate had followed.til.l newsman - ' of them innocent p re. might be counted by , hundreds._ But the or the obstacles that] .e-Z scented thentiselves, th ad, , . f h‘he' ‘ _ young crea me n e v o " er v ; cause. Allnecessary evidence the existch on. last will and of its destmctiou y«tins secured; ~ ‘5 . age with iaruu-,- ' del hie still emsted. The mother herselt, w", shr nkinghfrom the cruel publicity or her, ' '. aid as her _turally shrinkinfi no; ,. I" new rendered, alth timid by sufferi would“ mit. Men of influence. struck by $31; whom t " .w physical strength of a chiigi entering , ' her. came generwsly to her stapling; v p, W” I n to t at-early perio \' ., m ' , ' with the sunny climate to which shoal: z, ' 1/. in the midst of her first stru gle she had for: tube rudentundeed reoau ion was scarcely of her life. B adop- tion she had become a child of the North. ut the Warm, genial glow of her blood, still athizeél mOVe , fearlessly, with her little children at the most dan- gerous season of the year. . [using] her husband was a Northern man ,by birth. climate of New Orleans. The exc tement into which he was thrown doubtless added to the causes which firessed him: in the midst of his st leaviu the bloom and force of his maul yougg. ‘i hithey was struck down among the firs victims that the . yellow fever seized upon that car. I They were living at a beta in the heart of the . city, with no home comforts around them, and sun rounded by a. crowd of enemies-such as spring from hotly-contested law-suits where many persons are interested in the defense. To all‘those persons who had in an ‘ wa attained a claim on the pro r- ty of Daniel C rk, is daughter was. of course, old as an a essive enemy—a woman who had come ,wlth her ambition and her doubtful claims to disturb "the tranquillity of a rest city. Many of these per- sons,shav1ng bought t e pro arty they possessed in good faith, really felt her ac ion to be a great wrong 7 ,eétbéy had no means of knowing the facts of a case ' r over which so many legal minds have struggled, ,, i. l / . the great forest-trees that overshadowed it. - gthe‘house, wasaspriug of water—one of those nat- ancl naturally sided with their own visible interests alnst the fair claimant. Thus the yellow fever flinch struck her, husband down in a single hour, ‘ found Myra in the midst of enemies such as few wo- men have ever encountered. ‘ All 63y Myra had been lonel and sad. her chil- dren f t the heavy eflects of he climate, and her .own bright energies seemed yielding themselves to the enervating influences t at surrounded them. xfiometimes in the great struggle that. she had com- " ‘ moaned- sobravely. Myra. felt'the painful'reaction ' which ’ rings from a 10 strain u on the energies. frhat da she had been thmkingo her retty homo r in the orth,'of its quietude. its cool t l’ckets. and oral outgusbes of crystal waves which children love to play near. and whose flow is remembered as the sweetest music in the world afterward. In the' heat I . and closeness of her mum. Myra’s thoughts had r , been constantly going back to this spring; The chil- dren also had prattled about it between themselves, ' and once had joined in a retty petition to the lau- " , gold mother that they. mig t go back again and play out-of-doors. ,. ,. Myra/talc the tears come to her eyes as she an- swered them' there was no real cause for this de- pression, but it had fallen heavil upon her all day. she feltflilte snatching up her litt e» ones and fleeing . with them to the northward. where they [night an ‘ v' breathe and laugh freely. ' - ‘ bile the young; wife was in this strange mood, the door 0 cued and her husband came in. She , g glanced up n his face smiling a welcome, but his In .,_yon ' .“e ther cheek startled her. es were heavy, and a hot crimson burning on .She put the children aside. and seizin gave another terrified look in his face. e tried to sniile. but instantly lifteda hand to his forehead and grossed aloud. J . -'"Whatis this, my husband—are you ill, or have been walking in the hot sun?" 0 ' e‘nfithdrew his hot hand from her clasp. and fordered the children back as they came laug lug toward him. “Ah! now rum sure you must be ill,“ she said, i hashing her children: “ whoever saw you cross be- . fore. myWhltney'. above all things, to them i” “ They must‘not come near tile—send them away, 7 L and so yourself." be said. huskil ~“ Wheeled go away?" cried the young wife. “For their sake—for your own, Myra," he said, 1 ms Lawson Wm. ‘ ~ ‘ ' " e did not assimilate readil to the hot, moist ‘ Near a his hand, ' ,ness is coming back to your eyes." x ushiug her away; “ child—child, it is the fever that upon me.” I; ~ ‘_ , , . be'*_looked at him eagerly, almostwildly; her .» pale lips fell apart and'her cheek grew cold as snow. A ' - “Take the children away,” she said, motioninfi backward with her hand to a mulatto 1 who stoo looking on. “ Take them quite away nto your own room, Agnes, and be still." ' ' The little ones went reluctantly and with tears standm in their wild eyes. Myra orgot her children, forgot everything in the trig tful symptoms that burned on her husband’s face and shot fire into the headache clasped and ' ~ wrung in her own. “Oh, husband! my husband, it is not that—not the fever. God hel us! You have been in the heat —-you are tired ou ; a less of icewater and a little rest will drive this h ache away!" ‘ - “ Oh. it is terrible. Myra; my tem les seem glit- ting with the plain," he murmured. olding his head between both ands and reeling to and fro. “ It is death! Oh, Myra, I fear it is death 2” She n to tremble in all her limbs, a wild terror broke in her brown eyes, giving them an unearthly brightness. ' 1 Oh, don’t—don’t! The bare idea kills me!" she pleaded. flinging her arms around him. He struggled and tried to force her away. but the fire of disease and the power of her great love were stronger than his confused will. She drew him toward the bed and forced him down to the pillows. pra ing him to be quiet and try and sleep. hiie he la moaning on the illows. she ran for ice-water an gave it to his hot] ps. bound his fore- head with wet napkins, and strove, in her sweet feminine way, to assuage the pain which had seiz so fiercely upon him. To have seen that slight crea- ture acting as a nurse to the being she most loved. you would hard have believed it possible that she ossessed sufflc ent energy to take a controlling end in one of the most important law-oases that ever astonished our country—that slur had breasted difficulties and outlived discouragements before which strong men might have retreated without a forfeiture of_ courage. In that sick-room she was gentle as childhood. but quick as lightnin to seize upon any means of mitigating the pain t at held that young man as in the enibrace of a fiend. , - Hour after hour she watched in that sick-chamber. The doctor came. ordered the usual remedies. and went away again. with a heart that felt little and a face that told nothing: at all. His course of practice was unvaried: the some medicine in ’almost every case; copious bleeding; vague, wild ho in the . lovmg hearts that acbed around the her ; then the last fatal symptom and death-«thus it went,'day after day. ’ . Poor Myra! how she searched that inan’s leaden eyes for some little gleam of hope when he came into that sick-chamber! how eagerly she strove to - read features that never chanced to a thought or a‘ feeling, even when death stood close by! Still she ' would not despair; had not every obstacle ven way to the force of her own will so far in her ifs—v was she to be baffled and con 'uered now? To her warm heart it, seemed impossible that death‘ could strike a form so full of manly strength, or that she couH Mean hour after him if the greatcalamity did come. _ r » One day-it was less than a week after the first attackwMyi‘a was called to the bedside of her hus- band. A great and terrible chan e had come upon that s leudld form; the flesh he seemed to melt away mm his limbs like mist from the 1193811631 his eyes were hollow; the skin upon his forehead a yel- lowifih brown. . ' ‘ yrs, my poor wife!" I l She bent down and kissed the fever-stained fore. e . . “ My husband! you are better; there, the brightc firfih Myra. no; feel strangely, but not hot- «; A movement of impotent sorrow revealed the “Mglewith which the poor woman strove to dis“ Pfigve this truth to her heart. * Don’t say that—you don‘t understand; wait filings? doctor comes. he will tell you that I am gust then the doctor came in from his rounds in the infested city. The young wife appealed to him. with her mournful eyes trembl‘ with an awful drsaad as his fingers touched the “Oh, doctor! is he better?“ ‘ » Yes, undoubtedly l” fleMyra. burst into tears; the invalid brightened a lit-' .. then turned his face on the pillow, and great hears rolled down his cheeks. h 0. doctor," he murmured, “no!” he i: is my opinion we have everything to hope 1'9. madam. « Let us take a. little more blood, and. “‘1 Will so on well." w sndages were brought; the sharp lancet hit its way a third time into those hot veins and directly 3. .0 "ant bore out a. great white toilet~bowl frothing eve:- With the red life drawn from a frame already x“ austed‘ With its battle against the fever. r w There, madam," said the doctor, laying the ounde‘d arm of his patient tenderly on the counter- dpane- He Will do well now have no fear; I wi krillJ it} this evening; follow the old directions and efip him uiet." , so yrafio owed the man, whom she looked upon as giethmg more than human. into the hall. . doctor, are you sure that he is better-4t was ivgot done to cheer him n 7" she cried while her P00? hf}: bean to quiver wit the fear that crept over 7 " Nothing of the sort, dear lédv. He is doing well enough. but take care of, ourself." meagre smiled on him t rou h her tears. “God file bglen for this comfort." 3 c said. leaning over After he ‘7'“ ' . . gone, Myra ran into the room where agghchfidren were kept safe from contagion, and on (“mg them toher bosom, lavished rapturous fiefiseg on their smiling faces. bl e is. betterwhe is better. my darlings; be, your a esEmublcssed papa. Kiss 'me a thousand times, “Illduhen I am gone go down on your knees so, With “be 311881 faces lifted to heaven, and thank God-— i You understand, children ?-—thank God, that papa. 8 better and will live." . k . 6 children obeyed her, and dropping on their cfimfig‘fied their pretty faces heavenward, like the. em 8 we see in Raphael's pictures. looking the BI ers they had no language to utter. ' ‘ en Myra havin subdued her at '0 We“ ., hack to the sick-roorg again. How $1? an éath he 1843' under the ' - . whitecloud of sunshine thatbroo ~ ed 0'81" the pad: Myra held her breath, and listened cit" “me 5181! of improvement. His e es were tigseds and his lips shrunk together and c osed mo- tha‘iimin their golden alior. How the heart .0! 1%: Worggn chea itself. His languid snu- “; ». 380 si 11 to her. soft]. 93- ’ she whisgered. sittin down by the bed, and lumpy Chafing his theble ban . "There is no pain ,i e rests sweet! In . r re ‘3 13.9-le her andy clasped her fingers With feeble 'Vcot‘f’mthfl. but did not speak or attempt to utter 9. 3391' - Still the great tears rolled down is face. and .6 knew he was conscious. . 118 two or three hours passed and then the fever ‘9’,- l'amoent again, and fell ll n that weak form «he 3 vampire, drinking up all be life that the lan- t hm left. M pa. n to be frightened. and hoped iInpatientl'y for he doctorto come. There T ' ' ‘ » LAWFUL Winn.” ' directions to give. in her with his last word on on . Angola» Isti lwindomitable still-auntiring hes the gm; battle of life alone. and ere ion will prove that ,1 life-stru gle of myra Clark nines has not wilhout‘its victor: and that energy, overrin each» , cote woman, can at I overtake justifies, ,y ,‘ run mm, H» . "l gas something in the case that she could not under: ‘ ' " '1 i ’ At lastt e hysician came with that slow method whllchgs so irksoine to an impatientisiimrti‘ . “i. he came to the bed, felt of the patient‘spu . lei “ ,, his hand ently down. and turned away mutteggg that she in ght go on as before; there were no t R ,5 it Now the atient o tiedhise e and fiiredthom, ,, with mourn ul reproaiglion the dgcg'or’s face; he“ , f ‘not attempt to Speak, but the great tears goth slowly in his eyes, and the dark lashes closed a n. . , r ‘. . I. as usual Myra followedthe doctor out As room. _ , > a, ,v V “Tell me," she said. “he is no worse—he is getting ' t well; there is no danger now." - " ' ' ‘ " The doctor drew on his glove. smoothing it to the hand. while she was speaking. , “There is no hope, my dear madam—mot a gleam. He must die before morning. Did you not observe ‘_ the black on his lips?!‘ . , I “Die before mornintb—my husband? Oh. no! you want to see if! have all the courage poo etdlk‘, about; butyou see. doctor. I am a poor 5 itt e cow- ard. One does not fight with death. Don't on how I tremble? Don‘t. don’t carry this any. urther. I’m not very strong. and—o. ——oh, my Godi my God! why don’t you speak to me?" . ~ ‘ . j A "hide , my poor iady,l have nothing morato‘ I say; it would give me real: satisfaction to vs , ‘ hope if I had any myse 1?. But the last to symp- tom has come; no skill .on earth can save'him'. . it itsibnt-a question of time now—ehardly those: .' ‘ ac . ‘- ' - .7» The doctor was going down-stairs as he spoke.- for he would gladly have avoided .the' anguish that came like a storm into that white face; sutures sprung after him seizing hold of his arm. ~~ “ ‘_ .- , “0h, doctor! 0 .do’ctori” she cried. gasping for ' . g. breath. “is this true?" _ . , -j V , . "indeed,l regret to say it. but nothing comm. = more certain." ~ I p i v 7. Her hand dropped from his arm. her whole: bed :3 w cold till the icy chill netrated i0 her I . €13: watched him as he glided down thestnirmwiih , .. ustrainedand wi d look. Then she. turned midweek ': into the chamber where her husband iaygdyingn ,. ' :1‘ When Myra come forth am she wash. In one of those cemeteries I ‘ rown walls and” fllled’with gloomy verdnre. Q” fold the young husband down to, his} ' pale little woman with two fair children?! , . p _ at their‘black crepe dressess' by. client, j (I , filled with a dreary wonder that it took so littlefitime to render a human life desolate. There was news: riefin that solemn inelosurez, the little, chi lieu their breath 11] vague owe. ,Thoniotherionsed ' on as if those strange men were Wiring heart. whichshe could never rescue hack 13m rave. . , _ . ‘ 8 Years went byvlife, made We inevitable ems, '- and the great battle of the lawlwent 0n. whammy fought out in behalf or the rents who were. ~ and the children of. her bus 4 I In the course of. this struggle. a brave old man, One who had am , an his country well. and stood at the headofitsarmles, , - laid his heart and his weltearned fame,» other. * and she became his wife. A; few and helix; , the very city which had» proved so atal to heram v , I p 5. love. laid doivn nmid his ripe honlotrs. cuddled. blew, ; ' ,, \‘vwax-xi.’ é,» v~.»\{\}-¢.r-./- xx;'\:‘"\1\ «Q'M\'V\I'Q’V:§‘MVV - 'r/w’z I a, ;J I i ’ , ~ POCKET EDINON. g i “H: ' ' WaVerley Library. HERTY-TWO 00124 V6 PAGES. ; PUBLISHED EVERY ’TUESISAY.” I imam NUVEL FUR I'm: GENTS! " I e Each issue a complete and unabridgeé novel, covering the field of Love end Society ' by an author of established reputationuperfectly pure in tone, spirited and r : rrceptirveting‘ in story, as the title “Waverley ” implies. Everything to phase and nethihgl' r» to‘avoid—- . “on? song, vmonotz‘s AND. FRESH. Zr ' L fig inherit)!" '09: oxcepfienable pioductioms; no tedious narm‘tive’of weak sentimtanteglism;,' V naming but 306d swung» stories of «5-day: ' ¢ ' I ‘ . g ' ‘ ‘ " V " ‘ “:WQW _‘ fl A n ' 'o, nTa,Dgy; onThe Mystery of Winifred Leigh. By Mrs. Mary Reed ‘ , ‘ (Towel! I '- 2 a? re; 0", The True and the False. By Hartley T. Campbefl, y .: 2 ; 3 ‘ was It Low? or, Collegian and Sweethearts. By Wm _W, I 9, M; D. '“y- ‘ 1“" ‘ , i . Ready June 10th. , . mm: V ’ H V ‘ [Edited in “an” 3 or! A Young, Girl’s Temptation. By ARett‘ Wimvood. , ' Ready3un317th. ; _ r 7 , _ ‘ _ ye V V g », __wm she ,Marig mm at or, The Masked Bride. 3,, Mrs. Mary med Orwell“: i 97-3,“,388433'311119 a £11.. - V 7 . ‘1 I t _ I I‘anll‘ w {0; "OAMyl-a‘ the, ChildfiotA'dopflo“. By Mrs-V Ann 6. Stephens. { L > .1 Ready July Ist. , I . ‘ I ‘ > .1 7! A Fa“ Fa“; ‘3” 0"“ in “‘9 “794d- ' Bymi'fley T. Campbvn. Ready July 8th. ,. V ‘r > 8 A Mad Marriage: onThe Imn win, By Mary Airbenimn. mm”), July 15:“. . j ‘ 9 A Dan liter of Eve- ,r Blinded by Love. By Mrs. Mary, Reed Crow‘s". , . “ RegdyJulyzzd. ’ ” 4 ‘ . _ :4: £0" The Brokenflgetrothal; or, Love versus Hate, By Mary Grace “alpine. 1‘ " ' Ready Jul . - , , . y . 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