31$ " 2‘" i . ,“ w m i __ i 4 i x Copyrighted,1385, by “HAULK AND ADAMS. Emerml 2n the l ’ust ("fin-e Slt New York. ‘r VOL. V. $2.50 a Year. PUBLISHED WEEKLYBY BEADLE AND ADAMS, No. 98 William Street. New York. ,Price. FIVE Cents. N0. 65. MOONLI IN AN AGONY OF FEAR, CHARLES RAINFORTH DROPPEI) THE CASKET. A BRAVE GIRL; Or, SUNSHINE AT LAST. BY ALIcv—LFTWLEMING. CHAEDE‘ER I. , THE WILD, WHITE GHT and summer! WOMAN: Two cu‘cumstan- ces which, blended together, indue this earth of ours with wonderful beauty. In truth, this June evening is ex uisite, and no wonder that one of the inmates of 0rd Rain- forth’s mansién leans from her Window to gaze out on the loveliness of the night. . " It is a strange, weird loveliness, lent by the intensity of the moonlight and the lateness of the hour. Soft, rustling noises, whisperings in the gentle air, which belong so exclusively to 2 A BRAVE GIRL. nig t, disturb the silence which rests over the l ma-Je-stic dwelling, the wide spreading woods, the long glades on which the fair watcher casts 'her sad, beahtiful eyes. . Why is she sad, this youthful maiden of twenty gummers? Why does she watch so_ late, while others sleep? Let us not ask to know all her heart-sorrows ‘ on this first evening when we make her ac- quaintance. To-night it will be enough for us to learn that she, Hilda Seaford. who once called as fair a place as Rainforth House her home, now occupies the post of governess to Lord Rainforth’s unrulgy7 younger children, and that she is surrounded by ungenial circumstan- ces, which jar upon her gentle nature and her sense of right. But this is not» the paramount reason why to-night she. sits communing with her own heart amid the moonlight and the silence. Ah, l noj It is a weightier question she is debating —-a’question which fills her heart with pain, and-now and then causes her tears to flow. Oh! if those clear, pale stars which look down so unmovedly onrher grief, her perplexi— ty: could but whisper to her the answer that sheilneedsz—if they could reveal to her the truth, her path in life would then be plainer and easierl Is she loved, or is‘she not loved, by him to. whom she has given her deepest affection? - 1 Sometimes (despite of all seeming to the con- trary) she feels assured she is beloved, and then a radiance fills her life, and she breathes the enchanting air of hepe (loveliest messenger sent to us poor mortalsl). At other times the sober reality of fact steps in, and she asks her- self how she dares to hope, how build her ca‘s— tles in the. air. , In the midstrgif'this doubt and debating, an incident occurs” which thrusts on Hilda the ne- cessity of deciding whether she h’o‘pes or fears the most. She, an' orphan, alone in the world, and nOW pennilessfis offered wealth, the love of an honorable man, honorably placed among his Iellows. -"' That day’s post has broug‘it her his letter. If she will, she can turn her back henceforth on her life of toil and struggle, and resume the position from which her father’s losses and his early death had thrust her; and it is an appall- ing thtng for ohe so tenderly nurtured as Hilda had been to stand all alone in this un- sympathizing world. If she fails at any time to obtain a post as governess (a position quite new to her!) what is to stand between her and starvation? At the present moment twenty pounds is all Hilda Sea- fond’s worldly wealth; in lieu of this she is en- treated, in impassioned, earnest'iwords, to _ac- cept the love of a man who adores her, who vows tostndy her slightest wish, and cherish 1 her all his days. Why does she hesitate, then? Why send tearful glances to the silent stars above, as if they could enlighten her? ‘ As we have said, she loves another, who never yet has spoken to her one tender word. But love is expressed in looks and tones as l unmistakably as in actual speech; and Hilda, with a. sigh expressive of relief, as if breathing in that sigh. “I will trust yetl” decided. She would refuse the luxurious lot pressed 3 on her acceptance—she would still hope, though 1 there were fearful obstacles between her and 1' happiness. And, having decided, she hesitated no longer. ; Rising from her Vigil at the open window, 5 she lighted a taper, and in a few sentences, full of the emotion she felt in penning. them, made I known to Sir Hector Dalston that she could not respond to the affection he offered her. As the words were written, the clock over 1 the stables struck two. i The sound recalled to Hilda how fast the l peaceful night was wearing away—how soon would daWn the troubled day, with all its wearisome duties. She would seek some repose to fit her for its trials; and Hilda was about to prepare for V rest, when a plaintive sound smote her car as ‘ if coming from the garden below. She started, then went hurriedly to the open casement, and leaning out, gazed earnestly below. A scene of fairy—like enchantment met her view. She saw beds of glowing geraniums (their colored petals distinguishable even by this light), smooth lawns, noble trees, and, further off, water glittering ‘where the moon’s rays smote it, but nothing which could have uttered that soft, plaintive‘sound. v “ Had it been fancy?” she asked herself. And then once more the mournful sound came stealing on the night air. “It is no fancy. What could it be?” thought the girl, trembling, and leaning again from the Window. All at once she had discovered, she believed —-felt sure, that she saw something moving in the shadow cast by an angle of the housefia pet dog, which was alternately caressed an' , neglected by the little Rainforths. I “It is poor Bijou. He has been shut out, 3 and is frightened and miserable at being ,' alone.” 3‘ Hilda’s next thought was, “I will let him in, 1 poor little fellowl” Then, once more leaning from the window, she called, softly, “BiJou —Blj0u, I am coming!” ' ' It might have been a formidable undertaklng at that hour to descend the staircases and tfa‘ verse the long passages of this large manswn J in order to admit the pet dog, for she W0“ run the risk of warming the household; abut Eh" could let Bijou in without going to any of the 1 doors below, for her apartment led. out“) A BRAVE GIRL. 3 veranda (guarded by double doors) opening on- i to a long flight of steps, which led to the gar- ' dens. ‘ . This room was on one side of the house, 1 looking into peaceful gardens, beyond which , lay the park. What was there to fear at any ; hour? ‘ , Hilda did not think of fear as she cautiously withdrew the bolts of the inner door, then of an outer one leading to the veranda, which theJate Lord Rainforth had added to this Wing of the house, in imitation of humbler residences abroad. I Her slippered feet made no sound as she gained the top of the stairway. A moment later .she stood at the foot, calling, “Bijou—— Bijou!” in a soft tone. But though Hilda had felt sure the dog was there but a few seconds ago, though, too, it was his custom to run at her voice, tonight he did not obey her call. “ Bijoul” again called Hilda, pausing at the foot of thestair-way, while throwing one glance around her at the fairy—like scene of park, woodland, flowers, and stream, all bathed in the moonlight. ' Still the little animal did not appear. Yet at this instant she fancied that she heard him reply to her call, giving his customary friend- ly response—not a bark, but a soft 'sound indi- cative of pleasure; but no Bijou ran to her feet. Was he there or not? She could not return to her room leaving this uncertain, so, descend- ing the last stair, she sped in the shadow along the dewy grass round the corner of the house Whence Bijou’s voice had seemed to proceed. A little shiver assailed her as she did so—a tremor at her loneliness, for on turning the angle of the house she came into a very open Space fronting the mansion, to which a broad road admitted all comers. Suppose any Stranger should be here now? The thought that Bijou would certainly bark loudly if such were the case (and, indeed, the other dogs in the stable yard as well) re- stored her courage, and she went forward into the bright moonlight. Then all at once a great fear came over her; She forgot Bijou, forgot . the other dogs, f0I‘got everything in the dread which tied her for a few seconds, spellbound, to the spot on Which she stood. . Quite suddenly She found herself in presence 9_a W man, who was standing erect and silent 1“ the white light of the moon. This woman seemed white herselfmwhite, wild, and of fear- “1 aspect. Coming from out the deep shadow , East by a juniper bush, she confronted Hilda, ' ranSflxing the girl by her piercing look; yet » she Spoke not neither explaining her presence , 911 that spot at that unwonted hour, nor de- ding the reason of Hilda’s being there. Speechless, silent, awesome, the woman re— mained gazing at Hilda, under the, full light of the summer moon. Two, three seconds must have passed thus; then the fear which had enchained Miss Sea- ford broke out in an almost inarticulate cry, ; as she turned and fled to the stairway. How did she find strength for ascending it? How did she traverse the long veranda, and regain the sheltering door which led to her own apartment? Hilda could never tell, nor ever give adequate expression to what she experi- enced during those fearful moments, with one thought ringing in her brain: “Am I pur- sued?” ~ Several minutes elapsed before the scared girl could summon courage to go to her win- dow, to cast a searching glance below. Was that woman there, lurking about the house, on the watch? 0n the watch for what? Why was she there? How strange, too, the manner in which she had confronted an inmate of the «mansiml Her whole appearance was defiant, challenging the other’s right to question her presence in Lord Rainforth’s grounds. This woman might have remained in the shadow of the juniper bush, yet she had come voluntarily into sight. And now another still more inexplicable fart presented itself to Hilda’s bewildered mind. if Bijou was there in the gardens, why did he not bark? Hilda felt certain that she had seen him certain that she had distinguished the pet crea- ture’s friendly greeting; yet the dog had held back, not rushing joyously forward, as was its custom, to meet Hilda. Then, again, the dogs kenneled in the stable- yard had kept silent. Through the stillness Hilda had heard the rattling of their chains; but not one of them had barked. \ All this reasoning shot rapidly as an arrow through the young lady’s mind, while she was still trembling Where she had sunk down on res gaining her room. But now what ought she to do? Rouse the household? That was her first impulse? She had even risen to do so; but a second reflection restrained “her. Lady Rainforth was fond of accounting herself an invalid (which never prevented her participation in all manner of fashionable gayeties). Lord Rainforth had once declared, in Miss Seaford’s hearing, that he would not thank any one for rousing him up from sleep; nothing short of burglars in the house would justify‘it. Hilda had only seen a solitary woman, of wild and strange appearance, it is true, but still, only a woman. She might have been some poor, wandering, half-witted creature, who had been tempted to enter Lord Rainforth’s grounds, lured on by the brilliant moonlight. Half-past two chimed out. The‘ summer 'oapl’e lofvhcurs; till then Hilda resolved_to Watch and Wait, but not to rouse the sleeping inmates of Rainforth House. ,Eaving formed which determination, she Ifiéfti'y closed her window, not without another searching glance below. There, gambohng about’among the flowers, was Bijou—mumm— may, it Was Bijou, who had not cement Hilda’scan, who had not given one threatenmg k attire presence of the stranger. CHAPTER II. , ' "LORD BAINFORTH’S OPINION. Atlan more hours had rolled by, giving see to all the glory of a summer morning. bathed in noon sunlight. .vhhofse‘mm shadows cast by the moon, which discerned to Hilda. so gloomy and mys- ’ ions. * ‘ Eon-rs since she had sent a message by Helen fl, "ct her pupils) to’ Lady Rainfarth, to 1p- as to that lady that she had been dis- by an unusual occurrence during the "h ‘- and thought it right to apprise her iip‘lof it without delay. . ’ Ladvaainforth happened to be sleeping after unenfiparty, so sent word to Helen by Miss bid to name the matter to Lord Bainforth she went down to the library for prayers. ' in ‘this stiffly regulated household all j, ,, rd: forms and ceremonies were strictly marred), ‘ , “fling-when the long array of servants had ' tutor the room, Lord Rainforth having dly read a few of the collects, Miss Sea— ‘7:(who rarely addressed his lordship) ape , ,efl‘him, saying that Lady Rainfprth had " her to mention to him something which died-"occurred last night. ’ Thin, \aWay, children,” said his lordship. Rant, Miss Seaford, what is it?” ilda,"in brief words, told her startling y. ‘.wcman'.in- the grounds! Close to the eié Really, really, Miss Sanford, I in g i“ Itlis‘be‘eause she could have no business that ’I have named the occurrence at 3;”, replied Hilda. . _ At this moment Bijou ran into the radar, overflowing with fun. He gaveaSpring flaunt into Hilda’s arms. 7 ‘ *iBfit yousee, Miss Sanford, how that dog ” yes this morning!, If he had been close dawn we show ltseli! in less than unalith L, e what any Woman could be doing ugliest night he would have obeyed your didtbeother dogs give any sign of ; eras: intrusion For that stranger. s Lord .Rainforth’s extensive demesne was , Banished were ; .Miss Seaford. Of course Lady Rainfartli and . Openly have. expressed his ; animal Bijou. 7“ Your lordship. believes, them! that; agined the appearance of that woman? .‘Hilda.’ . W . :, “Well, yes. Moonlight is very deceptive.’ ' The hour was late; you were naturally ready -, V to be startled at any trifling circumstancey» Or by merely the changing light cast by the moon» Already your eyesight had played you false with regard to Bijou, for, of course,'be s. was not there, or he must have run- to youat ' your call. Some unexplained noise outside ; the house made you suppose the dog was near; you pursued him, and—turning, I presume, on i a sudden into the full glare of the moonlight-:- the weird form of a woman appeared to rise ,, up before you. Naturally you fled—~by your own account you were struck with fear—, without further pause. You must pardon me, . ‘Miss Seaford, for the opinion I have ventured to, give so plainly.” Hilda was amazed. 1 f H “I was not mistaken, my lord. But I do not seek to force my conviction upon you; I only desired that you and Lady Reinforth should be made acquainted with what had oc-. . curred. Certainly some stranger was in your grounds last night; but I will not detain your lordship any longer.” , ' " But allowme to detain you one moment, myself are much obliged to you for mentioning” anything which you think it right we should»; knowf’and I regret to have to add that I deem. it extremely imprudent of you to have acted as he you did last night. Suppose for a, moment there had been any one in the grounds, with a f ‘ design to rob the house, you must see that you ' : descent into the gardens would hava mad, their way easy. Let me request you, then, to, leave Bijou to his fate for the future.” , V “Certainly, my lord, since it is yOur wish," replied Hilda. “ But again let‘me. assure you that some woman was loitering near the en trance or this house at two o’clock this morn mg.» H, “ Such is your belief, of course. I diffs? from you, and am sure that Lady Reinfortb will agree with me in wishing this strange s? ’ ry not to get afloat. Servants and chilch‘agt are so fond of the marvelous-30 easily trig ened! Thus I will request you not again mentiOn the aflair to any one." . L ‘ “ Very well, my lord. ” r The conference was at an end. , Hih‘ as closed the door of the library, silent y} gratulated herself that she had not routed ’ one inlthe house last night. Lady would have bemoaned her broken next, twelvemonth ; while Lord V' 33$ would have ridiculed her tears, On her my, upstairs: (manna-0t ,gga'néi means visage; _ _ ' ii us he suddenly encountered the lonely girl with e petunimel inher arms. ' ‘Bijou is honored!” said he,4smiling’ while . . extending his hand to Hilda, and retaining hers 9 ‘. quite too long for an ordinary moi‘ning greet- _ leg. I v _ ’ Hilda flushed a little also, as she let her hand lay passively in the warm clasp of the young man, but she answered, carelessly, “ Bijou is a this morning. Ido not know where he was last night, and he would not come when I call- ed him.” (So much she might say, in order to find out where Bijou had passed his hours). “ Lady Reinforth declares he must have ‘ been out/all night,” exclaimed the young man. ,“She has just sent hermaid, Parsons, to look for him. It seems she supposed he was asleep on the sofa of her dressing-room as usual; but When morning dawned, he was not to be 3 found.” "“Did I not say you were naughty, Bijou?” l replied Hilda, addressing the favorite, and not 7, hetraying'what she felt at the young man’s ‘ answer. , 'And» then she would have passed on, but he 7- detained her. V . I “Miss Sanford,” said hoe—(and how full was his tone of a concealed afiection for her to fwhom he Was speakingl)—“won’t you wish me 4 some good fortune in the coming years? For .this is my birthday. Besides, this ver year, and in this very month, my fate will de- cided.” ‘ r “ Indeed!” said Hilda, feeling mere than she "betrayed. ~ “Iwish you all manner of joy and good fortune, Mr. Fraser.” “ Wish me the thing I most prize; and, for a secondary bit of good fortune, that I may be rich instead of poor this time next year.” . “ If wishes will benefit you, both your de- sires shall be gratified, Mr; Fraser,” returned Hilda, lightly. - ' VHe'r tone was light, but the blush on her ilheek deepened; for he had thrown a good deal 01 meaning into that sentence in which he had held her towile for him that which he most rized, What was that? Was it her love? I 7 _ any half-breathed sentences, gently uttered 01913 full of meaning, looks and tones con- ‘ fiealed from others, made the‘ ydung girl ask '_ If this quéstion. ' 78 have wduld be life, joy, glory, supremest r " tolHildal' But she Was penniless now; a “mess!!! the‘house where Sidney Fraser mwnmp as a. word 0! Lord Reinforth’s. " thousand warmest thanksl??.cried‘ the n. J“Ah, you little dream how one set ,to.,soothe_'tlie long suspense-w 1c ‘ endin‘ow!’ {How cruel'it‘was'of rm‘y’g' ‘10 19m such a dim; You have-nearest was, Miss Seafordi’ He left me four hr; and fifty pounds a year, which he desi-g ‘ educate me; and he left, too, a secretccdicil which is not to be opened till I have attai V’ my twenty-third birthday; Then, and" It on only, shall I know whether this provi' J ceases, and leaves me a beggar, or whetherl , . . i'h"t lt h'hh . lei" naughty fellow! He does not deServe petting ‘ m 6“ W83 h W m as been accum'u mug this time. But the old man was so". ecceni , , and did so many unlocked-for things, “the may have burdened any legacy left to me some strange provision, which I should fin impossible tofulfill.” -' I . j.- _ “Oh, surely,” said Hilda, “no One: withdraw an income granted for years.” i .1 “My godfather was capable of it, great deal more,” replied Sidneyr “Indeed, many sentenccs in the will read at his funeral point to such a conclusion. There were ‘ “ . sorts of half-expressed convictions that yo rig men should stand on their own merits learn their own worth.” I, ~* V “Itwould beshameful to leave you wi that to which his own decision has you, Mr. Fraser/’z ’ ‘l ' “Yes, truly. For everything I was to 6;" was parceled ‘ out for, mew-School, Etc ' ford, and then the year of waiting. f , » for what? A fortune or beggar-y? , an ation from the. rules he had lain- down Wests; be followed by total loss of income, total , of any hope of succeeding to my unclelsw for he was my uncle as well as godfather Sydney Frdser had said all this in a 1? voice, as he stood'by Hilda’s side, gazing her. Why did he tell her all this, it he andsh were to be nothing to each other? ' ‘ -»«She was’his equal in birth,jthough'8h ' p eccentric ,wealthy relative to provide if when her father died, broken-hearted , t 1 loss of his property in a speculation w had believed would‘double it. ‘ ' ‘ ' If beloved her,. if he stretched: ‘ hands to ofier her a. golden future, why she not take the gift? ‘ She could joyfull 3; him her whole heart iureturn for his affine while her well-horn relatives would, speedily remember her existence, crowd round is " "_ open their doors to her again lifting)? of her engagement to a. ward of forth’s. ‘ ~ ~. y The distant slamming of udoorfthefsch room door, as Hilda. well recognised he; start; '- , .. _, 4 “You must go!"; said Sidney, sate sleeping" herjfin’gers in "fAdieu, t ’ we meet-scant 6 A BRAVE GIRL. “We’ve been waiting ever so long!” ex- l i claimed the children, in chorus, as she entered , the school-room. “Whatever were you doing, Miss Seaford '1’” “Never mind; I was detained,” replied she, seating herself at the table, where many books were heaped together. Fortunately for Hilda the children’s whole attention was fixed on Bijou. “Why, there is Bijou!” cried they. “ We’ll run and tell mamina and the servants. Do you know, Miss Seaford, that poor Bijou was shut out all last night? Little Love and he are accustomed to sleep on mamma’s sofa.” “How do you know that he was out; you cannot be sure?” asked Hilda, her thoughts traveling back to last night’s adventure. “ Can't we be sure, though?” cried Roger, a troublesome boy of seven years old. “Phillips, papa’s man, was down first this morning, and he let Bijou in; he told me so. Bijou was whining to come in, and Phillips opened the door before any of the housemaids got down- stairs.” Here was confirmation of one part of her story. The dog had been there. Why had he not barked at that wild woman who had emerged from the deep gloom, of the juniper bush, silently to confront and afi‘right her? But she could not ask this question aloud; Lord Rainforth had bound her to silence. a CHAPTER III. " ANOTHER ADVENTURE. THE day went by as most of Hilda‘s days passed now, since a year ago, when she had undertaken the post of governess to Lady Rain- forth’s children. For her there was no longer a life of easy enjoyment, a maid to dress her to appear in society, a*groom Co bring round her horse, long delicious summer evenings at home, a home of which she had been for two short years the envied and youthful mistress; but instead thereof, the monononous task of teach- ing unwilling children, and who habitually took up the tone of disregarding their gover- ness. ' Lord and Lady Rainforth treated her, indeed, with outward courtesy, but kept her at an immense distance; but Hilda had learned in her great reverse of fortune to be thankful for; much which, two years ago, she wouldlhave thought beneath her consideration. But now the shelter of another’s roof, dis- tasteful work (because unaccustomed work), a word of courtesy now and then, fell to Hilda’s lot; she who once had the world at her feet. Into the midst of this unloving life Sydney Fraser broke like a blaze of brightest sunlight. He came, and with him joy to Hilda. Long had she sought to quench this joy, to tell herself that she must be calm, that she must hope for nothing; but her heart would thrill wildly when he approached—hope would thrust itself forward where it was least ex- pected. By the time Hilda. had been a year at Rain- forth House, during which she had seen Sydney Fraser on many different occasions, Hilda’s heart belonged to him; he had insensibly stolen her young affection. She acknowledged this.to herself as, the evening succeeding her encounter with the wild, white-looking woman, she again sat by her window in the hush of night. Could she sleep with the warm night-air fanning her brow and the warm hope at her heart that Sydney loved her? With the same radiance as that of yester- night the moon shone down upon the gardens. Bijou was not capering about to—night, and only the half-hour after midnight had struck, else all recalled the scene of nearly twenty—four hours ago. Hilda leaned from her window, thinking of Sydney. As her heart traveled in this direc- tion, and she dreamin sought the distance over which streamed the magical light of the moon, she became conscious of a. form moving in the space intervening between herself and the boundary of the park, and as instantly her . looks fastened upon it; a dark, gliding form, as different as possible from the white, startling figure of silence which had confronted her in the shape of the unknown woman. Passing from shrub to shrub, never leaving the shadow save Where it could not be avoided, this slinking image stole along, making a. sort of circuit of one side of the grounds, until it van-' ished from view. But Hilda had watched it—was it him or heri—who could telli—for full ten minutes, and was positively sure that her senses had not de- ceived her. At one time this slinking figure had not been many yards from the house. Surely the dogs ought to have noted and resented the presence of an intruder; but no deep-toned bark shook the quiet of the night. “After all, I cannot be certain that this in- cident has anything to do with last night’s UC‘ currence. But it is very uncomfortable to feel that strangers are prowling about While one sleeps.” She was about to close the window as she thought thus, when, behold! the gliding form once more stole on her view, making for the house, or for the high road which ran near the back entrance. I From tree to shrub, until it stood for Jug” one moment in the full glare of the resplendent moonlight, then vanished in the dark shadow A BRAVE man .4 V , cast by an angle of boundary walla-then it was gone. Who or what was it? Long she watched, tossed and troubled, and falling at length into an uneasy sleep, did not awake till long after the school-room maid had come as usual to her chamber in the morning. “ We’ve been waiting ten minutes, Miss Sea- ford!” cried Helen, a pert girl, Lady Rain- forth’s third child. “ So I see, Helen,” replied Hilda, quietly. Unlike most children, they were on the look- out to find fault, and were delighted if they could tell their august mother “that Miss Sea— 5 ford had been late for breakfast.” Thus Hilda was not surprised when Lady Rainforth, who chanced to be up in time for breakfast, and who honored the family circle with her presence, turned to her with an in- jured and haughty air as soon as the servants had begun to file out of the room. “ I wish I could find that you attached more value to punctuality, Miss Seaford. I hear that breakfast waited ten minutes in the school— _ room this morning? How is that?” “ I was again kept awake to a late hour, Lady Rainforth,” replied Hilda. “ Indeed! Go up-stairs, my dears. Sgaford will soon follow you.” “ To what do you allude?” asked her lady- ship, when the children had reluctantly left the room, and Lord Reinforth had drawn near to listen. Fain, too, would Sydney have joined the two ladies; but Lady Rainforth made him a Sign that she desired his absence. “ Last night I saw some dark figure slinking about the grounds,” replied Hilda, “creeping along in the shade, till it completed half the Circuit of the flower-garden; then it vanished, returning in the same stealthy fashion as it had gone. It was not the woman who startled me yesterday—that was all 1 could be sure of. 913, Lady Rainforthl who could sleep with the Idea that some one, perhaps with evil design, Was lurking close to the house? Thus it hap- Pened that, awake so long, I fell into deep and uneasy sleep toward morning.” ‘ “Really, Miss Seaford, you must learn to be flFiner—to exercise common sense—or I don’t now how you will go through life. Probably you did see a figure stroll across the flower- gfll‘den by moonlight; but there is in that nothing alarming whatever. Some curious and belated villager took into his head to Miss enter the grounds, I presume; or it might‘ ' even have been one of the gardeners or sliablelnen. They are up early and late some- times; I am told. Now, let me counsel you to g? eaPly to bed yourself in future, and you Wm Pot be assailed with these idle fancies.” Hilda felt hurt. ! She repliedobriefly, “that at all events she ’ would not' again trouble Lady Rainforth with ‘» an account of midnight intruders, even though she might see any;”'and then she retired to her usual work. , ; Just before luncheon, Helen came running ' into the school-room, in great excitement. .“Only think, Miss Seaford mamma has just- told me such news! I am to be bride.- maid, this day fortnight, to a beautiful cousin of ours—I and Julia, tool Mamma i would not tell us sOoner, because she knew we :should think of nothing else. But now the dresses must be tried on, so they were obliged to let us know.” ‘ Here J ulia, the‘eldcr girl; ’who was fifteen, broke in, pouring forth a torrent of words about the approaching wedding. “Our cousin, Lady Emily Landmore, is so rich and so pretty! She was to have been married from uncle Rainforth’s house. He is her principal guardian, for she is an orphan, you know; but unfortunately, or rather for- tunately for us, scarlet fever has broken Out at the Castle, and so Lady Emily will be mar- ried from this house. She will arrive in a few days. we shall see all her presents; we shall be at the breakfast. I am so glad i” _ Nothing was talked of during luncheon but this approaching wedding. Lord Rainfd‘rth’s eldest son, a spendthrift, who seldom favored home with his presence, save when he wanted more money, would certainly grace, or dis« grace, this bridal, and had already written to say he might be expected that day week. A postscript at the end of the letter gave much satisfaction both to Lord and Lady Rainforth, although neither of them thought it necessary to proclaim it. The short sentence which had caused their content ran as follows:-— “You will be pleased to hear that I haVe got along very well this year, and shall not want to draw on my father on account of Emmy’s wedding; though, of course, I hope to figure as well as any one at the nuptials. and shall give Emmy a suitable wedding gift.” Lady Rainforth smiled as she handed the let- ter to her husband. Lord Rainforth remarked, with a sigh, “that he only hoped this unusual supply of ready money didn't mean that Charlie had been borrowing.” Of course, Hilda was not cognizant of this lit- tle episode, nor were the children, as they were i on their way up—stairs to the school-room after‘ luncheon. It Was a trying afternoon to get through, the children interrupting their work every fiVe minutes to utter some hope or Wlsn about Lady Emily’s Wedding. “You’ll see her married, Miss Seaford—--at least, you can if you like. The school children i-andpszersamany of the villagers will be there. utyoa won’t be at the breakfast, you know, ' 01:1 heard momma say so this morning; so you won’t want a new dress. You could not é-afiord . one, though, could you! Governeeses ,9 always poor, ar’n’t they 3” ‘ This polite speech was from Roger. . “_‘ Little boy, hold your tongue. It is’not oryyou to make such remarks,” said Hilda, .zwho felt it due to herself to check the imparti- nence always ready to break forth from her *Pupils’r lips- , v ; Roger colored, and wriggled on his seat, ‘i'when, happily for all parties, the clock struck ,the- quarter to five; the school-room maid, Jane, ' could be heard bringing in tea; the chil- dren jumped up with alacrity, to put away "books and wash their hands, and Hilda breath- '- ed a Soft sigh of relief. g“~Here’s'aletter for you, miss,” said Jane, approaching Miss Seaford. “It came by the ,nfternoon post.” f‘ Thank you, J ane,” replied Hilda, quietly, little heading what the letter might contain. CHAPTERIV. ' ’ : TOMMY TUTT. vistno be quick with your tea, Miss Seafordl We haveflnished ages ago!” I ‘jf-Hilda was indeed absorbed in her letter. It was long letter, and, as she perused it to the Hilda suppressed with difficulty the emo- tion it caused“ her. ‘ Bile was about to fold it up when her eldest npil, ’Uulia, ,called out, “ Are we to lose all 5e“ beauty 0f the evening just for your letter, "MiesSeaford? I shall tell mamma how you us waiting! She does not at all approve clotheservantshaving letters, and I’m sure she thinks you are a sort of a servant, oo.” "Missfieaford looked up, sayin slowly, “I ;,..shull’expect you all to be ready for your eve- Walk in ten minutes-all except Julia, who Will not go out, but will go to bed as a, 'unishment for herrudeness.” fisAmid an outburst from Julia, Hilda leaves thereon]. - In another quarter of an hour she and four Lady'Rainforth’s children are walking be- tween-the green hedge-rows toward the small .to'Wnof Lillingham, where Helen wishes to buy ‘mverfl small articles. The time of year was June, the weather b’gfitted that loveliest theme, and, this walk ought to have been enjoy- hle. ' But the, young Rainforths were striving aud'wraugling together, while Hilda was full ’ " spa; ; *_ ‘ sister Barbara. god-anxious thoughts ' about many things. ’ L ’ That letter she had just received was one or ' letter urging her to reconsider her re- toihecome Lady Dalston. Not that Hilda T; rhesitategdiu her choice; 'she had, confessed to ' _, ltzthat she loved Sydney Fraser, but it is ; into WOIMMVG all, for the secondtime. v- * But now Hilda and the Reinforth children are nearing Lillingham—a long, straggling coun- try town, whose white houses show afar off. “There is that foolish old man, Tommy Tutti” exclaimed Helen, as they approached the place. “Don’t you [give him anything, Roger,” added she. , h ' “Not I!” replied Roger. ‘ “ Manama says he ought to war ” continued Helen. ‘ ’ “ Well, you see he has been at work to-day,”. said Miss Seaford. “He has swept the road clean after market-day." “ Do you call that work!” sneered Helen. “See, see! he looks queerer than everl”‘ex-‘ claimed Roger, pointing to the old man. ‘ He did indeed look unlike his follows. A long, spare old man he was; clothed in light gray garments, with long, unkempt hair Crowned by a dark Tyrolean hat, in which flaunted two gay feathers, while his lean legs more crossed and recrossed with colored rib-,- us. As Hilda came near with her charges, he began to brush the way vigorously, thereby raising some of the dust from the white, scorched road. I . “Troublesome old fellow l’_’ exolaimed Helen, contemptuously. ‘ ‘ v “ Covering us with dust like this! His f; broom ought to be taken awayl” cried her “Catch me ever giving him another penny l” muttered Roger. “ Hush I” said Hilda, so sternly that the un~ ruly children were quiet. ‘ ' ;_;;:~ But not in time; the old man had heard 7 every word. I ' , ,3- The eflect of their childish exclamation was a v singular. At first poor Tdmmy Tutt grew , scarlet with anger; he paused, darting at the . oflenders a glance of fury, and there was a, moment when Hilda feared he would,have _ thrown his broom at Helen Raintorth. Then, on a sudden, he became calm, stood quite still, placed his hands on his sides, and broke into strange, harsh laughter. ,' ' v “ A pleasant evening, young ladies and gen-1 tleme‘n!” he called out. “ You seem enjoying yourselves. So am I! I don’t know when I’ve been so amused. Ha! ha! ha! 80 yoli‘ f; ' don’t ever mean to give old Tommy Tutt anr ' other penny, eh, my dears?” / f Hilda had hastened to take out her Often had‘she’given bright three penny piecefiy ~ and oven sixpenny bits, to the old man, but “ix, the present occasion she offered him a new shilling, with her kindest smile and gambit word, to make up income sort for the’unkind? ness of the children. I ‘- i a . ‘ m young lady i” cried Tommy, as he accepted *Thergift. “ Luck"ull come; see if it doesn’t! Ah, all! how I am enjoying myself, my dearsl A thousand thanks to you, tee. Ycuv’e helped Tommy Tutt out of a diflicultyl” “ What does he mean, Miss Seaford, talking , like that to us?” said Helen, when they had left the old man and his broom several yards in the rear. ' “He means that he is very angry. Beware how you irritate him again. ‘ It is very un- feeling of you all to have said what you did,” answered Hilda. ~ “ But he ought to work,” muttered Helen, confused. . 'They were now in Lillingham itself, and the talk concerning poor Tommy was dropped. The little town was full 01 carts, carriages, and equestrians. Many of the tradesmen were standing gazing from their shop doors up the principal street, and Hilda was glad to get her unruly pupils safely to the principal. sta. ' tioner’s, where Helen asked for the diflerent ,trifles she wanted. ‘ As Hilda waited, and the other children , were staring at the articles spread out for sale, a gentleman rode up to the door on horseback, dismounted, threw his, rein to a boywho ran up in hopes to earn Sixpence, and entered. It was Sydney Fraser. . “ Do—do tell us,” cried the children, crowd- ing round him, “what you are going togive to cousin Emily for her wedding pressnt i Of course, we can only give some small thing, such as a gold thimble, Julia and I, between us. But we should like to know what you mean to give, cousin Sydney?” So the Rainforth children always designated > Mr. Fraser, though, in truth, be was no rela- tive, only their father’s ward. ' “I have not yet decided, Helen. It is dim- cult for a gentleman to find a suitable present _ ‘ for a lady. I’ll talk it over with Miss Seaford, ' and ask her advice.” ' Helen returned to the counter where lay the ' trifles she had been'considering; while Sydney said, in a low tone, to Hilda, “ I was riding ‘ through Lillingham, and caught a glimpse of y (you. How could I resist the opportunity of ' exchanging one word with you? I see you so seldom.” V , What could she answer to such an address, implying affection, yet not declaring it! Her reply on this occasion was a blush, which she ,,,in vain attempted to repress—a blush which _ ed the young man With a secret hope, and sorts of bright visions dance before c, _-‘{‘.When midsummer comes, I shall know my ifiterrknow whether I am to have riches or my lot,” continued he; “and ~mid l“ mm is not far amusing resets" jay In}. time of year. I must 'hope‘that it bring me joy.” ' _ v _; r “ I shall hope it also,” faltered , __ Midsummerl Atvbrief fortnight, Would}: I that longed-for day arrived; but duringtha fortnight Lady Emily was to be wedded Rainforth 'House with great magnificence; as has been said, together with numerousot guests, the heir of the house was expected: The Honorable Charles. Rainforth could" 1y be absent on such an occasion; but whendae wrote, on the very eve of the bridal ‘dayfth explain that the sudden illness of a officer would prevent him getting leave eta sence in time to be present at the nobody grieved very much, althoughfey body expressed regret. . e , “v a“ The heir of Rainforth House was not we loved, and his visits. had always‘been‘mafiéefi with some anxiety or misfortune. In spi I that hopeful letter he had sent his mother was a relief to her when she knew was not to expect him. - » " CHAPTER V. ‘ LADY nva’s meme. ' 4;}? IT is not our intention to chronicle rin‘ detail Lady Emily’s wedding. She? doubt, ‘a very important personage in}! ' immediate circle; but she is quite - wish . nate figure in this narrative, and is only-m" . tioned because she unconsciouslycont j; ; to the ultimate fortunes of the chief'aotouew this story. Thus it will be suificient to? , that nothing was omitted to surroundthe fi: i with eclat, and to make the ceremony j ing. A. bishop, with an assistant clergy read the service; the bridal gifts Were d1 ed in the large saloon for the numerofif to admire; all but the costly suit 011151th estimated at several- thousand pounds,“ adorned the bride herself. '- j - j / There was a verylarge and, fashionable“ semblage' in the country churches-so the great dining‘hsll at Reinforth barely accommodate the guests.- “Bu was not among them. Lady told her that her room would be regs , one of the visitors, and that she had,_:the arranged for Miss Sanford to a night at the house of a clergyman inthe borhood. - . _ j Hilda quite understood from this M Was not wanted during the wedding g and gladly turned her back on _ I - v House, and walked across the sunnfyfiei the modest l’arsonage, which ‘hadopened doors to receive her. ‘ ‘ ' 1 > Be sure that as she, got among ,. , hedgerows, her thoughts were functififi '" I?! ., y summons snares .Witnessthe ceremony; so that she had, seen Mr: 1a» , _ r ashe came up thevaisle among they“? ding party. on!” - ~ , " After this, Hilda had no longer felt the slight 01.“; being thrust out from the house on such a. "days- He had remembered her—that was “enough. "The Parsonage, to which Hilda was bending ramps, was empty save for one woman~ser~ “at, when ~Miss Seaford knocked at the door. "3“ Master and mistress have both gone over to Heel-the wedding; but they told me to expect you, miss, and they’ll be in soon after the breakfast. Your dinner’s ready now, miss, whenever you please to have it.” ) ,‘~'Such,was the greeting Hilda received from *tlie'OI'dservant. It did not displease her. She her simple meal, then, taking her hat, and sat in the small garden where the ads; was pleasant. Battier solitude was filled with happy mus- on Sydney. He surely was not indifferent 1' her, or he would not have sent her such a of affection that very morning. E'Ilfhi‘s time next year how would it be with She: could not help throwing a glance ,_ the future, and at this moment hope pre- gominatea. a But soon that accompaniment of MS; fear, crept in, and would not be quite lshed. ' The afternoon were away; neither host nor hostsssreturned. .. “Missile is late, and V master, too. I’ve . ght, you a cup of tea, miss,” said the maid, reap ’ arng toward five o’clock. , ou expected them earlier?” asked Hilda. . ‘-_,A‘§1,Oh, yes, miss; missus wanted to be here, “cop‘ng was coming; and master, he’d parish ' ' to see to. i wonder what it is that’s t 111 out 0 long.” Half an hour later the clergyman and his is, reached home. Their concerned locks “ d ,Hilda. Why did this good-natured couple appear so melancholy coming from a @ 5 ‘fI‘hope nothing, occurred to mar the happi- nets ‘of the bridalwthat everything went ofl ens? said Hilda, ‘as she shook hands with "i; ell, my dear Miss Seaford, something wrist unpleasant, most disastrous has occurred!” Blunt, the clergyman. “sad close to all the merriment at the What,” remarked Mrs. Blunt. I ._ @Wfiflith‘eabride takes, nu” asked ,. ., . , V, , , :- Hil‘ia, , £5: there! tellMiss Seaford, dear... QI‘lh‘ave And he had given her one look which set her j aglow-«which said, as plainly as words” ,dould say, “ Dearest, my thoughts are all with l guests— were all assembled to witness the do: . ' breakfast, Mrs. Blunt?” are missing.’ ” ritul, oi , Finally, they‘d-West ' to go out in the parish. happened better than I.” » . , I By this time Hilda was listening intently; _ while Mrs. Blunt sat down, and, fanning her- Self, began: ‘ “The breakfast was over. You will relatexfi’iat ‘ We—I mean the parture of the bride, and to wish her good speed. She had retired to put on her travel- ing costume, when somebody remarked that she was a very long time, and that the bride and bridegroom would miss the train for Ches- ter (where they intended to go that day); and then Lady Rainfarth, and next Lord Rain- forth, was called out of the room. Then came another interval of waiting, while people asked, in undertones, ‘What could have happened?’ Oh, my dear Miss Seaford, you never will guess what had occurred!” “No; I am sure I shall not; therefore, tell me at once, please, Mrs. Bluntl’f cried Hilda, made quite nervous by the manner of ‘ - this narration. ' “ Lady Emily’s suite of diamonds, which she had worn at the wedding, were gone! They had disappeared apparently without hands. 4 Seven thousand pounds’ worth of costly jew- _ _;.: elsl” ‘ v , ‘ “Gone!” echoed Hilda. “But how could that be? Did she not wear them during the “ Oh, yes; and most dazzling they looked, It can assure you! ‘A complete necklace of dia- monds, large diamond stars to fasten her White vail, a magnificent pendant of brilliants, with earrings to .matchl Indeed, I never saw such ' a sight! No princess could have been more richly adorned! And then to lose them all in a moment!” \ Hilda drew a breath of relief at the remem- brance that she had escaped being in the house at such an awkward moment. Then she asked, 1 “But what steps were taken to discover the missing jewels? It seems incomprehensible how they could blame been stolen.’ ‘ “ So it is to everybody,” replied the clergy: man’s wife. “ I shall never forget my sensa- tions when Lord and Lady Rainforth returned ; into the saloon, followed by the bride and bridegroom, and when his lordship said, look? ing very much troubled, ‘ A most unfortunate event has occurred; Lady Emily’s diamond? ~‘t How sorry I am!" exclaimed Hilda. ; ‘51 am afraid it made the bride feel sadupon wedding-day.” , “ She wasvvery sorry indeedg‘I could: that. However rich we may be,_seven'thousa pounds are not last without concern. ” It ,. the departure of the bridal pair some ' ., z. u > it . is; couple of‘hohrslater thén'hadbeon arrang- ; :ed; but nothing whatever his b’een heard of. the jewels. Poor Lady Rainforthl Shepwould» '. be heartily glad, under the‘circumstances, to es- cape giving her large dinner to-night; but the guests ' are staying in the, house, and the repast is ordered. Lord Rainforth‘ has telegraphed to ' Scotland Yard.” Mrs. Blunt had not done talking of the lost diamonds when, after breakfast next mom- ‘ ing, Miss Seaford took leave of her, and re- turned to her duties at Rainforth House. Hilda found the household there in much confusion—visitors departing, the children ex- cited, detectives in the hall—a. bewildered air in every one she encountered. / She felt glad to escape from the pervading confusion within thewalls of the school-room; and here, too, she first clearly understood what had actually taken place. ‘ Julia Rainforth was her informant, the rest of the children listening eagerly, and watching to see the effect the exciting story had on Miss Seaford. ' 4 “We can’t sit down to our lessons just as usual, to day,” cried Julia; “ we must tell you about the jewel robbery, so listen, Miss Seat ford! Besides, mamma asked me to tell you about it." ' e V Thus adjured, Hilda delighted the children by saying how much she wanted to hear cor- rectly how the robbery had been accomplished. ‘ “That is just what nobody knows/7 cried ,Julia. “Oh, Miss Seaford, think of a mys- g . terlous theft being committed here at Rainforth - '_ House in broad daylight! It will be in all the _ newspapers! And there are the police search- ing all the rooms!” _ “But tell me where Lady Emily took of! her _ -.' v: jewels,” said Hilda. “She wore them in church . and at the breakfast. And Isuppose she took ’ .. them off before putting on her traveling dress?” /. “Yes, Miss Seaford. Cousin Emily had just ftaken them off; she had seen her maid put ,‘l‘whem away in the jewel-case, which lay on _ the toilet—table; there was nobody else in the 591mm, when a‘knock came "at the door of the -*anfe-room which opened into Cousin Emmy’s dressing-room. ' , V ,1“. "Go and see who it.is,’vsaid Cousin Emmy m1 her maid, Andrews. So Andrews went at f and when Emmy heard'vCharlie’s voiw "(Wu know he was prevented being in time for he: wedding, and was so disappointed at it), harm to the door herself, Andrews standing .333 all. the time, but a little apart. gfidrews is so glad, now, that she didn’t go Wkinto the dressing-room!) Well, Cousin fizjygknewshe hadn’t too much time to spare, traveled down expressly to ford?” began his lordship. (Poor 9 nog'gtay long talking to 1, I I ‘ ‘ View up the smallest that my,“ w ewe the e- opened a case‘he had orangutans him“ .1) present to Emmy. Miss Sealordl-lsnch "a ,. ful set of silver ornaments, and ‘Emmy' locks Well in silver! ., 7 , ' . “She was quite pleased with them, and Charlie she liked them better than many " her more costly wedding "gifts, and thatyga nearly all she stayed to say, and then she Wen back into the dressing~room, followed .51} Andrews. Nobody Was theremthe door, was shut exactly as they hadleft >ifi,‘bufi,,"‘t jewels were ,gonel ‘ r “Cousin Emmy helped her maid to all over the room, but it was of no use; after that the whole house was searched; pelice say that it is one of the most mysterio robberies they have heard of for-a long tfifi “Somebody must have opened the" door- the dressing-room, and taken the jewels in th moment when your brother, Mr. Rainiortli, was showing his gift to Lady. Emily,”',sai' Hilda. ' ' » " a J “That is just what the police say,” replied ulia. ‘ ~ “I don’t believe they know a .bit what in~ do!” cried little Roger, who had listened With his mouth half open, and Who was intenselyijin terested in; this mysterious theft. " '< “ Everybody in the househa’s beenquestib ed about it. You would havebeenquesti‘ " too, Miss Seaford, by the detectives, if 313;! not been at Mr. Blunt’s.” r - k “ How sincerely glad I am now not to he. been here i” thought Hilda. ' '- Barely had this passed through her mind when a servant entered, bringing a " from Lady Rainforth. 7 , r , “Her ladyship would be much obliged Miss Seaford to go down to , the library mediatoly.” _ , _ Hilda obeyed, but was somewhat startled; reaching the apartment, to see, instead of] Rainforth, two men, strangers toher, and Lord Rainforth. r / ‘ 3,5,; . The latter advanced a. few steps tot hero ' 9‘ “You have heard of the Very d and painful occurrence. in my *house,,-Mi “Of course once communicated with the author-i , Scotland Yard. These policeljomcers' ask you a. few questions, Which may oi" : f to find a. clew to the strange robbery Whit: beenperpetrated.” _ / p I 7 ., 5 , ' I“ What could she be 'expeetedto‘knewes who was not there?” thought the ‘ glit‘Sit down, miss; We sha’h’tdetain- long)” Said 0119 Of the oflicers. ‘ > “Yougsee’ , .. is a very mysterious aflair, and we must "sear a ds, ,_ are: named: JanefBarker, met 8,.neat1y~ I, ‘ young-man at the endof the corridor leadingto the droning-mom from which the Wells were stolen. She thought .thisyoung was one of the attendants hired to assist 9 .r stemming breakfast; but a trifling incl-f "dent induces us to fasten on that person as the ; one'who; made 011' with the diamonds. We' haveitaken the liberty to .Send for you, miss, thatlwe may ask'you a few questions, which they throw alight upon our conjecture.” "5‘ I!” exclaimed the astonished Hilda. “Are ' unaware that I was not even in the house?” Just so, miss; so his lordship has explained. " haSalso mentioned another little circumA tense which occurred lately, when we were ’ endeavoring ’ to' discover whether any "' rs had been hanging about the place. yen be kind, enough to describe,” miss, 3 ” sort 0: women that was you came upon in th garden a short time since, when you went I “93 solute to call in the pet dog?” ‘é'the' house- ‘ was a woman in agrem this young lady ranrup 1 missed.” ,th "'yhoiisemuid a. ' ' arkablygood f” , was the“ particular would . against “in your grounds :' u ‘ nmeititiiefi rates: ’ men, maneuver, that she so late at night,” . “ What are your, reasons asked Lord Reinforth. * ' I I A “Why, my lord, your servant tells me, in answer to very minute questions 1 put, to her, V that the supposed waiter was very white, sand", had a scared look; also he was tall; and was our thinking ‘2 % stupid enough to drop his handkerchief. The ‘. girl ran after him to give it back; but he went ? on as if he did not hear her call to him, and " disappeared through a. doorway; nor/could' she find him again. Then, too, the handker. chief. had a woman’s name in the corner—~ _ ‘ Charlotte.’ And soon after the jewels. were: “ Dear moi—dear me!” exclaimed Lord Raf g; _ forth, pacing the lofty apartment with agi-ri tated strides. “ Who would have imagined 2 such deceit? Lady Reinforth and myself are r A'flfimofibe her!” cried Hilda. ,“ It was such ' full of regret that we did notiattuch more im- 2 r ‘ 53%?an glance, and I was so frightened, ‘3 portance to Miss Seaford’s encounter withlthat‘. j ‘ y description I could give would hardly r unknown woman. And you believe her to ‘ :3 table”! {mitts true, miss. You couldn’t go into 3 ' s but you received an impression, I take ‘ [had a sort of idea whether that. , wasgtalln or short, bulky or thin, soared in» appearance?” ‘ yée,*yesl” answered Hilda. “ She was ’3 White-looking woman, defiant, strange! . ppearance frightened me, quite apart ; Hmthefact of her being in the grounds at , time or night.” ". Ah!” exclaimed the police-officer. “And ' ' allowing night you observed a man slink- j bout . the place, keeping in the shadow? j at) ‘ hi you . make out whether he was tall pr r»... I ‘ - I ~ agathertall,‘certainly-——not very,” replied M Very"well, miss. Then my theory is that . that man, and the wild, white-looking woman, l t ‘, nicely-dressed young man that the ousemaid Saw at the end of the corri-j' ; . ,-.were all one and the same person. 'And myefindls equally made up that that woman “‘ sawwas no stranger, but a person about thehouee “continually; for you see, the dogs ! , ot barki’h ' at'istrus,” '-rep1ied Hilda. ttaehedrno importance to the oircum- , putgthe time Miss Seaford mentioned it,” Lord Reinforth; ‘fbut now, indeed, I see ‘- ,_rent1y.i’ . f7 ,' * small things help to throw light \tters,_,my- lord,” answered. thelde- J, spokesman, the other ;_ cede: hat ’W33f“m the h j an inmate of the house, ofiicer?” ‘ from Bainforth by Washed Hilda o: the detective. r ; Dapeud' ;‘ . “’I do, my lord, or some one who isf'on ex: tremely friendly terms with your dogs. There» I is no deceiving a dog, my lord! They would; ;, have barked smartly enough at a stranger.” “ I will get quit of the whole present set of , servants! Let me harbor no thief, at leastl’, cried his indignant lordship. “ That is just the course I would beg you! lordship not to pursue. Pretend to think . thai a stranger entered your house in disguise, feign to have implicit confidence in those of ye household, if you ever wish to hear a. word 1 the lost diamonds. The jewels are far enoug, this time, my lord. Th9 question hes—where?” ‘ ,' _ ' p , , y i? “ Can I give you any other information'579 “ I’m afraid not, miss. But you have help: ed to give the single clew we hold at pressed 1 think it would be well under presentcircu stances to spread the, story of the women young lady saw in the grounds the other ni , » That will set the thief’s mind at ease, endpé haps put him off his guard. No, thank, miss; you can’t tell us any more, Isupposb,‘ .we will not detain you.” _ ,7 , , Lord Rainforth also thanked Miss ' See p stiflily, and she retired. f , - ‘ At the door his lordship spoke another at I “ Miss Seaford, you had better tell t dreu that story about going out to find-1352‘ They will repeat it, I also will allud " so'that it will soon spread.” ' ' , “Very‘well, .my ,lordfi’ Julialtainf .. H 'i (.r ' 1 A BRAVE GIRL. ‘ 13 Who were watching for the return of their governess, were excited in no small degree when they heard that she had been questioned by a police-officer. “ But you were not here when the diamonds Were stolen!” cried Roger. Then Miss Seaford told them the story of Bijou and the unknown woman. In the midst of the extreme amazement this caused the children, their brother Charles knocked at the door of the school-room. He came to see if Julia would ride with him that afternoon. “ Oh, yes! yes thank you, Charlie!” ex- claimed Julia. “Come in! We have some- thing so,wonderfu1 to tell you! Miss Seaford has seen the woman who stole Emmy’s jewels! We are nearly sure she has!” And then, in chorus, the strange adventure of which Bijou had been the cause, was related. Hilda had rarely seen this eldest son and heir to the family honors of Rainforth, and glanced at him for a moment as his young brothers and sisters detailed in eager, disjointed fashion the strange occurrence. And as she glanced, Hil- da noticed a pained, strained expression about the corners of his mouthaa white ashen hue steal over his visage, which twitched ner- VOusly. , For the first moment or two he gave no exclamation of surprise at the bewildering recital told so eagerly by Hilda’s pupils, a cir- cumstance which caused them much astonish- ment. What! Did not Charlie think what they had said wonderfull—something like a story in print? ‘ Thus apostrophized, the much-admired elder (I brother professed all the astonishment expect- ed of him, but did so in such a forced, unnatu- ral way that Hilda observed it silently. i But what had the heir of Lord Rainforth to , do With the unknown woman, or with the lost jewels? Plainly he had not taken them! Was 9 not actually talking to his cousin at the mo- ; nlent they were carried off? Had he not hurried down at the latest mo- .ti ment to wish her joy, bringing with him a t beautiful wedding gift? 1;? There could be no connection between the E on. Charles Rainforth and a daring thief! IA‘QT"; x «c. N CHAPTER VI. , 1’ “FROM TOMMY TUTT.” " - THE days which immediately succeeded the Jewel robbery were filled with fruitless search 7\{n