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Copyrightedln assimilate?“ Annie. séﬁtéinbé; i538:

 
PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY BEADLE AND ADAMS, 98 WILLIAM ST., N. Y.

PRICE. 5 CENTS

 
An Ambitious Girl;

She Would Be An Actress.

BY FRANCES HELEN DAVENPORT.

 
CHAPTER I.
ALONE IN ran: WORLD.

THE blacksmith was dead: old Sahban Kuni—
bell had gone to his long home. and his only
child—his only living relative, as far as any of
his neighbors knew—his daughter, the tall, the
queenly. the blonds-haired girl, was all alone in l
lbl‘ world.

The story of the blacksmith’s life, since he had l
dwelt in the village, was a plain and uneventful
one, for in these little secluded hamlets, where
one day is but the pattern of the preceding one
—where not once in a year does anything start—

 
inclined to be communicative, to ask him, blunt-
ly, who and what he was, where he came from,
for they surmised that he was an En lishman,
although he never admitted it, nor w at were
the reasons why he had selected their village as
an abiding-place. These questions the black-
smith pushed aside with the greatest ease, with-

ling happen—what was there in the quiet, hum-
drum life of the honest workman worthy to be
detailed at length?

He had an odd name—one, once heard,net
easily forgotten—Sabban Knnibell: he was a
stranger, a foreigner, apparently, who had come ‘
to the village and set up his smithy some

eighteen ears before the time of which we } out satisfying the eager curiosity which had
write. ith him came his wife—a dark-eyed, [ prompted them in one single rticular, and he
apparently assionate woman, but very lady- accomplished this task so nice y, and in such a
li e—and a little girl of wonderful beauty. l gentleman] way, that even the most persistent

There was a mystery about the man; that i gossip eoul not take offense.
point all agreed upon. He was a pretty good  And the blacksmith’s wife was Tally as re-
lacksmith, but a ar better scholar: his house ! served as her husband, although she ada proud,
hold goods were few, his way of living plain, l im rious wa of answering, which did not
but he was evidently educated far above his l ma e friends or her; but, seemingly. she was
plresent station, and had surely seen better days. 1 far better pleased to keep away from her neigL-
is little library was the wonder of the village. . burs than to be on friem ly terms with them.
for it contained books that some few of them _ Years passed on, and the village curitsity
had heard of, but had never seen. ﬁnally died away, as the ﬁre dieth that is not
The man was strangely reserved, too. in re~ ‘ sup lied with fresh fuel.
gardwhispast life, for the gossips of Cold Snake‘ he daughter—who, by the way, was as

did not hesitate, when they found he was not , strangely named as her father, being called

 
all r

’f-vitls

All

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14¢.

 
THE GIRL LuuKlIl) H' AND can: A LITTLE scans.“ wma sin; saw A snmxmap. WITH l‘HE LANDLADY.

  
2

 WAMBITIOUS 

 
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Years passed on, and the village curiosity
ﬂnall died away, as the ﬂre.dieth that is not
su ) ed with fresh fuel. *

e daughtohwho, by the way, was as
Strangely named as her father, being called
ﬁnish—grew to girlhood, freely‘acknovvled ed
as the be Is of the village; but 3 e was, like er

rents, shy and not disposed to make friends.

he was no favorite among the other village
girls, for they declired that she ,Was a mick-up
thing, sceiiig that or father was only a com-
mon blacksmith, Bbe‘ was educated at home,
and that tended, too, to keep her awlly from the
rest,.and so the girl grew up almost without a
companion of her own a e. When she was six-
teen her mother diod su denly, and the cares of
the household falling upon her when other girls
were thi of and leasuring tended
to withdraw or from the li e that ordinarily
1211‘s to the lot of the village girl.

As a matter of course, being the prettiest rl
for miles around tall, stately, with a queen-l ke
air, and the mos beautiful dark blue eyes and
golden hair imaginable, it was quite in the course
or nature for every young fellow in the village
to try for her smiles.

But, though very polite and ladylike to all,
there was only one who could boast that be was
even recsived on friendly terms by the black-
smith’s ueenly daughten, and this was young
“ Jim ” lumgate, the lawyer.

The Plum ates were an old New Jersey fam~.
ily, dating way back to the Revolution, and it
had always been the boast of old Daniel Blum-
gate, Jim s father, when in his cups that his an-
cestors always had been loval to the Crown——
Tories, in fact. It seems strange in our time,
that a man should glory in such a but the
old law er did. '

The b acksmith was dead, and the blacksmith
was buried; and n0w, two da 3 after “ earth to
earth ” had been consigned, t e (young lawyer
made bold to call upon the frien less girl in or-
der to learn what her plans were for the fu-

ture.

All the gossips in the village had been pre-
dicting a match between the two, and now in
the dusk of the evening when one of them, in
passing down the street, hap ed to see the
youn lawyer knocking at the door of the black-
smith 3 humble abode, in great glee he hurried
off to report the news.

The girl received the young man kindly, as
was her went, and the law yer, with the brisk-
ness characteristic of the man, proceeded to the
business upon whichhe had come.

“You will on this intrusion I am sure

“I will- butIrely upon on not to disclose
my intentions to any one.” 5" _ I
midawyer never betrays his clients, you

“In a measure you are acquainted with m
* father’s secret,” the girl said, lowering her voice
‘as if the subject was a solemn and asacred
‘ one.

“In a measure, yes' when my fatbehdied, he
confided it to me,” Illumgate replied, in the
same guarded tone.

“ Fer some reason my father lived in constant ‘

fear—”

“Yes, fear that his sojourn here would be
discovered and—”

“ And what?” asked the girl, anxiously.

“ That is all I know.”

The girl drew a long breath, and a weary

ook came over her face.

" And that is all I know, too; I fancied that
perhaps you had some clew.”

“ Nd, nothing; I know absolutelynothing but
that he fled to his secluded spot, selecting it, as
beingxfar from a railroad, for a hidin -place, and
that e was in daily dread of beino iscovered.”

“And yet I cannot bring myself to think it
was for any crime; my father was too 00d 8.
man in every way to ever have wrong a hu-
man being. I have carefully examined all his
private papers, which he kept in an old-fash-
ioned mahogany box, but there isn’t anything
there to thnow any light on the sub set; there
isn’t a per in the box which dates ck of the
time w on be came to this place.”

“But, did he say anything on his deathbed to
clear up the m stery?’

“Note. wor ; he died in the night, and ab-
ruptly; no one was near: I was tired with
watc ing and hadfellen asleep. then I awoke
the blow had fallen.”

“ But the name your father bore; do you
think that it was his right one?”

“Oh. yes: I am sure of it, for it is inscribed
on the ﬂyoleaf of all his old books, and some of
them are dated twenty-ﬁve years a o.”

“The mystery, then, whatever it was, evi-
dently has died with him; but now, to return
to yourself: what do you pr to do?"

‘ I shall take the stage to reehold, to-mor-
row and then the train to New York. ”

“ but you do not know any one there?”

“I do not think I do,” the 'rl answered, just
a little trace of hesitation in er manner.

“And have you money enough to support
you until you get somet i to do, for re-
sume that you are going to ew York to 00k

 
Miss Halah, w I explain what has brought.
me here,” he said, as he accepted the proffered I
chair: “ Of course, as you are Well aware, I
take a very great interest in your welfare, and I
now that this great sorrow has en upon you, ,
I thought it was my duty to come and see what
you prqiose to do in the future.” ,
“ real] ,

ouarev ' kind indeed, and I
glad you hanging f5! I stand in mg of a é
vice the

girl answered.

“If the is the case, it is very luck I did,
call,” the young la er remarked, is face
b ' Meningup; “but can assure you it was
wligl fear and trembling I knacked atrvthe door, ‘
forépardon the remark—you have such strange ,
fancies sometimes, that I am always afraid of,

off nding- ou.” ,
ust a s ght shade of color came into the pale;

face of the-girl

fol-e she rep led:

“ I am not amended at the remark, for I know
it is true. Ibave d ed your visits, al-
thoggh knowou are wellhead truly a friend,
for sh to giVe village gossi a
chance to chatter. I am so sick of this m scr-
able place; a young man and woman cannot'
speak to each other here Without the whole:
p ace is alive with rnppm that the are‘lovers—
as'if'there was not ‘destinv in s‘world for‘
a girl but to _ ,
humdrum life!" 7 A proud lip of the girl,

curled in ueenl contain t. ,
{its} yerallytge, aim'snd end of a'

it We“,

oung l’s ” the law or observed, not ,
pleased gVl'irth the ay in whicyh the girl spoke. l

“ Yes, but I am not like other girls, and I do ,
not wish the world to talk of me in such a way. 1
The world!” she criec? with a sudden burst of ;
ener y. “ “That am talkingabout? This misc.
crabs little place ‘is not the world, and what,

 
"the

does it matter what is said here? "To-morrow I i allowed him to walk with me; be was a. gentle- s that he came to

am going away, and I trust I shall silver seei
this place again.” .

“Tomorrow?” ‘ The lawyer was astonished
at the abrupt move. .

“ Yes, for good!”

“ if it is n )t a secret, will you tell me whore‘
you are going. and what you propose to do?" '

and 'she hesitated a moment be. 11

for a means of earnin your own living?”

“ Yes, I have near? three hundred dollars,
besides this house and lot, and I want you to
try and let the house for me, all furnished as it
is. Get what you can for it. It ought to rent
for twelve dollars a month, and that will almost
support me in the city, I think.”

‘ l‘hl‘ee dollars a week is very little to live on
in New York. But, what do you think of do-
ing, when you get there?"

*I am going on the stage; I intend to become
an actress.” .

The youn man was decidedly astonished at

the calm rep .

“But, good, heavens!” he exclaimed, “have
you any ca of the diﬁlculties that lie before
you in such a life 'I”

‘No, but I will con uer them, no matter what
they are. I feel that have genius for a stage-
fe—I have alwa s thought so, ever since I was
a child. I want t the opportunity, I am sure,
to win the laurel crown.” ‘

The young lawyer uttered a deep sigh.

“ Oh, Miss Halah, I am certain you will re-
gret this step; on haven’t any idea of the dan-
gers which wil beset you.”

“ I must meet and conquer them all: besides,
I have an acquaintance, who has p
aid me.” '

“ I can guess who that is l" asserted Plumgate,

and settle down to a suddenly rememberin a piece of village gossip f in

which had come to
before. ,.

Again the faint
the irl.

“ h, yes I know; the story was all over the
village. I happened to be in Freehold, and I
wentto a dramatic entertainment at the hall
and, after it was over, I became acquain
with one of the actors. He took me for a silly
girl, and thought I wanted to ﬂirt with him; I

ears only a few weeks

man, as I had thought, and he soon saw his
error. ltold him of the wish I had to become
an actress, and he, like you, warned me of the
den and difﬁculties which attend such a
life; but when he found that I was resolute, he
promised to do all he could for me. He saw

to ;

rm stole into the cheeks of -

i. that I was no ﬂighty girl, but a woman deter-
mined in my purpose.’

“ And do yougo to him, in New York?” asked

the lawyer.
’ “ No, but
, mended.”
I “ Take care, take care! You have no ides. of
the many snares that exist to entangle a beau-
: tiful girl like yourself in the gm“ 'city’. There
‘ are people there, both male and female, worse
. and more merciless than wild beasts.

“I cannot bring to self to know what fear
is,” the girl answer , looking more queenly
than ever as she spoke. .

The young man had come with a certain pur-
pose, and although from what the girl had said,

0 knew that he stood no chance at‘all of ac-
complishing what he sought, yet ha could not

help speaking. v

‘ M as Halah, you are 9. very strange girl, and
therefore one cannot approach you like other
. oung ladies; I have something very important

0 say, and I come this evening expressly to say
it, but, ban me! if I know how to say it.”

The girl ooked at him a moment with her
clear, keen eyes; then she rosc and extended her
hand to him.

“ You had better leave it unsaid,” she re-
plied frankly. “ Let me go forth into the
world and make my struggle; let me be cheered
with the hope that I have at least one friend
who will watch my career with interest—a.
friend to whom I havenever given pain.” ‘ l

“ But I ma hope-”

“ Without ope what is there to life?"

The decree was ven, and Plumgate bowed
his head in submiSSlon.

The next day the girl quitted the village, and
in a very few hours New York, the great me-
tropolis, swallowed her up.

CHAPTER II.
No ON THE scm.

Tm: full, round harvest moon was high in the
heavens and threw its broad brightbeams down
over the quiet country, and by the aid of its
light a well-dressed man with a ﬂorid face,
bushy side-whiskers, after the English mutton-
chop style, rather stout in build was making
his way to the little graveyard where the mor-
tal remains of the blacksmith reposed.

The man had arrived in 00 d Snake only
about half an hour before oomingina bu gy
drawn b a white horse, which the landlor of
the hote , where he stopped, at once recognized
las belonging to one of , the Freehold livery

stables.
. ‘ The stranger had a very smooth persuasive
ism-t of my with him. He alighted remarked

to the land 0rd that it was quite a chilly msht
. for the‘time of year—it was early in Se tember
, —took a‘glass of ap le-' k at which 6 made
1 a face, as thong he idn’t like it, and then
‘ a if there was any blachlmth in the neigh-
iborhood, as he was afraid one of his horse’s

shoes was loose and he hadqnite a distance to

Kari" .
, .

The landlord re lied t“ the onl blacksmith
Jthere was in the pville‘gqﬂmibell’,’ had, unfor-

tunate] , died a few am ago

i The 8%.“ r was at once struck by the name.
i “ Kunibel ~Kum'belll Blessmy soul!” he ex-
iclaimed. “ I used to be V817 Well acquainted
. with a man of that name, long years ago."
i The tap-room loungers gt once pricked up
their cars at this.

“ Yes, sir; I once knew a man by that name;
not in this country, though, but across the
water. He was not a blacksmith; his first name
' was Babban.”

I“ Every soul within the room started and stared
at this; was the mystery of the dead man com-
ing out at last?

“ Well now sir, this I must say is a wary odd
i thing,” the landlord observed. In Southern

J arse the inhabitants ba'vethe strung8 “SIMON

king of often substluiting W for V, aftel
m3  h demanded
s t 9 hair? :

l ” Why that is the mm 0 our bmksmlth. 01‘

‘ he that was our smith.”

to a hdy whOm he has recom-

 
'  gﬁbban Kunibell’l’l”
e we same -
l “ Good herzvens! but it can‘t be sible! yet
I haven’t seen him for I great num r of years

1 ——in fact had 1y 138% aiglat of him tfozr
the last twen can. an un erstood, ,
I tythis country so it may be that
friend, after a . He was rather
tall, with ll t bail: and no beard—3’
“ He had ht hair, but a big beard,”inter«
rupted one of the bystanders.
‘Ay, but he had no beard when he first came
4 here, twent odd years ago, maybe!” declared
| the landlor . in a tone of voxce that brooked no

i it was my old

 
o

/'

  
AN AMBITIOUS GIRL.

  
3

 
questioning. “Why I remember just as if it
was only esterda ; I had just taken possession
of this 01 house t en, and repainted he snake
out yonder on the sign. I remember how he
came into the V' , just as well, he and his
daughter—” .

“ Ah, yes, his daughter 1” interposed the
stranger, in his brisk, bustling way, “ I re-
member her very well indeed, and a ﬁne strap-

ing young woman she must be now; let me see,
er name was Hada.” '

There was a general chorus of dissent at this.

“Oh no,” the landlord hastened to say; “ you
have got the name wrong: it is Halah.’

The stranger looked puzzled; he appeared to
be much surprised.

“Well, it may be Halah, but I would have
bet twenty to one that it was Hada.”

“She never was called that, here.”

And the rest all. chimed in with the landlord
in this, and the boat took advantage of the
stranger’s surprise to get in a question.

“ Begging your pardon, sir, what business
was Mr. Kunibell in when you knew him?”

A well-affected look of surprise the man put
on now, but it didn’t deceive the villagers; for
they were sure it was assumed.

“What business?” and then he pretended to
think. “Bless my soul! it’s very odd: I ca’n’t
for the life of me remember; something in the
commercial line. in the city, I believe; but, dash
my buttons! if I remember. B the by, where
is this young lady now? I shou real y like to
call upon her, just to see if she is the daughter
of in old friend, or not.” _ .

“ he’s gone away—went away this morning.”

“ Where to?”

“ No one knows; she’s a closemouthed body,
and never tells her business to nobody. To York
the h, I guess.”

“ one away for ?"

“ Well, oung Jim Plumgate, the la er, can
tell you a int that if any one can,” t e land-
lord believed. “ I understand that she left her
house in his care.”

“ I really feel interested, and I think I should
like to see Mr. Plump“. Where is he tobe
found?” '

The desired information was volunteered and
to interview the young

ow young Plumgate, being a lawyer, was

‘ used to men of devious and slippery ways, and

mistrusted the stranger from the start, but of
course didn’t let the other perceive this; on the
contrary, he seemed to be overﬂowing with a
desire to afford him information, though un-
luckily, he was not possessed of much. is
Halah. not Hada, as he informed the gentle-
man in answer to his pointed inquiry on this
int, had gone away, but in regard to her des-
ination he was ignorant; she had left her prm
erty in his charge and had said that she wo
write to him in tn it.
“Well, I should very much like to see her ”
shawl-mind. “Heieismyaddressin
New-York”andhs iled a few lines on a
card, whi hetook his pocket. “If you
learnthslsd’saddre-dropmea andI
will be pleas to call upon her.”

“Certainly,” lied the other, but at the
same time mentm making u his mind that
he wouldn’t do an hing of the 'nd. »

“ Where is Mr. unibell buried?”

“ In our village ve .”

“ If it is near at and shouldn’t mind taking
a look at the grave of my old acrLuuintance, ’
and the stranger put on a melanc oly expres-
sion, but the young lawyer understood the
dod at once.

” hinks that he can get some information
from the tombstone,” Plumgate thought, but he
directed the stranger which way to go and the
man took his de rture.

Straight to e graveyard then the seeker
after information roceeded Thanks to the
bright light afford by the moon there was no
difﬁculty in ﬁnding the 9P“, Md the lain slab
Which marked the resting-place of black—
smith was easily discoveredt _

t was sava in its simplimt , and bore onl
she game of t e dead man, an the date of his
eat .

“ Sabban Kunibell!” the man muttered.
“Well, there isn’t much information to be got
out of that."

“ Not much,” responded a hoarse voice, and a
medium-sized man dresst in a rather shabby
black suit, and with a demdedly Jewish cast of
features rose from behind a neighboring tomb-
stone, w ere he had evidently been concealed,
and leered at the other.

“ Bless my soul!” cried the Eu lishman, start-
ing in astonishment, “ if it isn’t erry Klulan!”

 
- m-

 
“Yes, gov’nor; your humble servant to com-
mand,” and the man ducked his head and grin-
ned a sin. “ But I say, who would have thou ht
it? 0 would have thought of a cove l e
yourself oomin away across the herring-pond
on this ’ere lay‘l ’ and the man jerked hist umb,
signiﬁcantly, toward the tombstone that mark-
e the blacksmith’s rave as he spoke. “No,
sir-cc, you could have ocked me down with a
feather when I see’d you a-coming into this ’ere
place, and I sed to myself, sed I, if it ain’t
Archibald Pasilwaite, I’m a son of a gun I"

For a moment the Englishman seemed per-
plexed. Had the unexpected appearancc of the
other disconcarted his plans? I

“ But, I say, gov’nor, the thing has gone up a
tree here.”

“You are in for this, eh?” the other asked,
si iﬂcantly.

‘ You had better believe it!"

“ Of course you know the man is dead.”

“ Sartiu. At ﬁrst I reckoned that it was a
‘plant’ to throw anybody of! the track, but
t ere ain’t any doubt of it. The gal is alive,
thou h.”

“ amed—i” and Paailwaite cast an inquiring
glance at the other.

“ Halah, theyasay round here, but Hada asWe
knogv it, and t t’s another thing that stumps
me.

“Who are you acting for, in this matter?”

“ Ax me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies.”

“Well good-night to you; I wish you luck if
you don’ spoil my game.”

“ Same to you, gov’nor l”

And the two parted ——-both sleuthhounds,
thou h of different breeds. It was a question
whic first should run the game to earth.

CHAPTER III.

 
m Talisman. nossnmo—nousn.
Tun girl went t to New York. Al-
though she had always n brou ht up in the

country, and had not been in t city three
times in her life, yet there was nothing about
her to denote the rustic thanks to the excellent
education which she had received from her
parents, and the peculiar, though natural dig-
nitsy which wasso marked a trait of her nature.
he was, as we have said, a very beautiful
girl—one who would have attracted attention
anywhere, clad in almost any b. The trav-
elin -dress which she wore ccu d not have been
muc more plainly made and yet with her
stately carriage she looked like a queen in it;
hardly a man passed who did not turn to take a
second look at the charming youn woman.

She had the direction given her y the youn
actor in her ket-book, and when she arriv
in New Yor after leaving the depot, she in-
quired of the ilrst policeman she saw in regard
to the street. ,

The oﬂlcer directed and then, as she went on
her way, took a good look after her.

“Bleecker street, near Crosby, eh? Blessed
if a gal like that hadn‘t ought to go Fifth ave-
nue way I" he remarked sagely.

Miss Kunibell found the house easily enough;
it was one of those old-fashioned brick man-
siOns which, some ﬁfty years ago, Were all the
style and occupied by the aristocracy: this was
before the days of shoddy and Fifth avenue;
but now, style and wealth have ﬂed lip-town,
and Bleeoker street has been surrendered to the
vulgar and the “common” people, and to the
demands of trade.

The lady ascended the broad stone steps and
rung the bell. There was no doubt in her mind
that she was at the right place, for a modest tln
sign aﬂixed to the side of the house read:

“ BOARDING.
“ S. MALLoaY.”

A sharp-faced, broad-shouldered woman, well
along in years, but still right in her prime, an-
swered the bell.

 
“ Mrs. Mallory, please,” said the girl.

The woman favored the visitor With a look as
if she would read right through into her heart,
and ﬁnish, understanding that she was under
inspection, bore it bravely, although a glint in
her eyes indicated that she did not relish it.

The boarding-house keeper, for the woman
Was Mrs. Mallory in person, was somewhat surf
prised at the appearanee of the caller, for she
was decidedly different from the common run
of fish that usually came to her net, but the im-
pression made was a decidedly favorable one.

“ I am Mrs. Mallory; what do you wish?” ”

“ To see about getting board, if you please.

“ Well, young lady, this is not a regular I
boarding-house—” .

“ I know it, madam; you keep what is termed »
a theatrical boarding-house, I believe.” '

I
l

 
" yes but are you on the stage?” and the 100:
which s o cast seemed to express a doubt.

“ No, madam; but I ex t to be.”

Mrs. Mallory was surpr ; she did not un—
derstand.

“ I have come to New York with the idea of
learning to be an actress.”

The landlady gave a contemptuous sniﬂ’.

“Indeed, oung lad , if you will take my ad-
vice you willgo straig t home to your folks and
give up such a foolish idea.”

“I cannot, madam; I have no folks; I am all
alone in the world and must ﬁght my own way
as best I can.”

“ Of course you know your own circum-
stances best, but if you were a daughter of
mine I should do all I could to keep you of! the
stage. I have a son who is an actor-—a young
man of talent, miss, but he will never make
anything on the stage if he stays there until his
head is gray.”

“ I am 5 ightly acquainted with your son
madam, and it is through his directions that I
came here. ”

A look, black as night, swept rapidly over the
woman’s face.

“You are acquainted with my son?” she
snapped out.

iss Kunibell realized that the boarding-
house mistress was am and rufﬂed at the
intelligence, yet couldn’t possibly imagine why
she should '

“Yes, very slightly; I made his usintance
this summer when he performed in reehold—
that is the town near whith I lived. I inform-
ed him of mgewish to become an actress, know-
in that be ing on the stage would be able to

ord me some useful information.”

“Humph!” ejaculated the other, in a tone
which clear] indicated her disc proval of all
these p ings. "And whatdi he say! Ad-
vised you tc go of course, and turned our
head with the s y storyof hOWeasy it s to
jump on the s e and at one bound win fame
and fortune. on have got a pretty face, and
I presume that that pretty face made a fool of
him, as a pretty face always does of a man, no
gate; how great the results may be of his

ow this was such ve plain speaking that it
was impossible for Hala to misunderstand it;
but,,thou h she was a- country girl, she was
quite equa to thb occasion. She drew herself
up proudly, and her face ﬂushed.

_ “You are quite mistaken, madam° yourson
tried to persuade me not to attempt to become
an actress. He said it was a hard, toilsome and
disagreeable life, and that not one out of a
thousand who followed it achieved distinction.”

“ A lottery with a thousand blanks to every
one prize!” the woman added in'her decided
we '.

‘PYes, madam, so he stated; but, when he
found that I was determined upon tryin it, he

vs no your address and adVised me, i ever

id coins to the City in pursuit of m Will-o’—
the-Wisp, as he termed it, to come lyto
your house; ‘for,’ as he said, ‘while under my
mother’s roof she will take care that no
comesto on.” '

“ That true enough, either from himcr any-
body else,”the boardin -liouse keeper muttered,
not at all molliﬁed by t compliment. “ Have
you any baggage?”

“A large valise only; I am not very rich in
worldly goods, but [have a little store of monev
that I have saved' up for this venture, and I
have a little property in the country which I
rely on to bring in a small income.” Halah
madgthis explanation, for she did not wish the
boarding-house keeper to think that she came
as a 
“We , I guess I can make room for you,”
Mrs. Mallory said, " although, if you take my
advice, and on know who is good for your-
self, you wi int out of this city and go back to
your country ome as soon as possible.”

“I must make the attem t madam, and,
after I have failed, then it w' 1 be time enough
to think of something else.”

The landlad had half-turned nher heel as
if to admit t e applicant, and hen, a sudden
thought occurringto her she faced around, a
stern look upon her keen ace.

“One question ﬁrst, young lady, before you
enter these doors, and I charge you. M 3’0,“
value your happiness and peace of mind in this
world, to answer it truly: Are you in love With
in sou?” "

he question was so abrupt so entirely unex-
posted, that it took Miss Knnihelloom lately by
surprise, and, for the moment, she new not
what to say. The uestion irritated her. Willi
her mind fixed on t e bright goal toward which

.

  
 ,1 . v

4

AN AMBITIOUS GIRL.

 
[*7

her anxious feet were rescfng, what had she to
do with love? Was be world all mad, that
love seemed to run in the thoughts of every one
she met?

Her face was an expressive one, and the ex-
perienced eyes of the woman easily, and cor-
rectly, read the thoughts that were passing in
her mind.

“ There, there; never mind answering!” Mrs.
Mallory exclaimed. “I see that I was wrong in
my suspicious and I thank Heaven I was; never
a oot inside this door would you have stepped
if there had been anythin between you two. I
am lad of it, for I coul hardly believe that
Gor on would bebase enou h to ruin all your
life, situated as he is, wit a terrible curse
hangin over— but, that is neither here nor
there; business is his business, and it is none
of mine, so long as he keeps his troubles away
from me. But, I say, young lady, don’t you
mind me,” she added, noticing the ook of won-
der upon the ﬁne face produced b these strange
words. “I’ve got an odd way 0 talkin some
times, but on mustn’t mind it; my ark is
a eat dea worse than my bite.”

hen the woman led the we into the house and
ushered the young lady into e parlor—the par-
lor which was furnished as boarding-house par-
lors have been furnished from time immemori-

 
acting my boy would never have been afflicted
—but there that’s nobody’s business. Sara is
at Niblo’s heater; she is one of the re ular
company, not likethis little tiger-cat of a ich-
mond: she’s only there for a few weeks, and
the quicker she gets out of here the better. If
she gets into any of her tantrums here I’ll take
and put her out neck and heels !”. and Mrs. Mal-
lOIZy shut her teeth in a very signiﬁcant way.
ctrangg ideas came into the young lady’s
mind. hat sort of a girl was this one against
whom the landlady made such a threat, and
what stran e associates was she doomed to en-
counter in er desire to become an actress?

“ By the way you haven’t told me your
name i” Mrs. Mal ory added, in her sharp way,
after uite a pause.

“ Ha ah Kunibell."

The landlady knitted her heavy brows to-
gether. ‘

“ What an odd name! That is your own,
sure enough; no one by choice would ever adopt
such a one. Are you going to play under your
own name, when you go on the sta ei”

This was the ﬁrst time the idea ad ever oc-
curred to the girl, and a sudden horror came over
her at the bare idea of appearin before the public
under her Own proper name. ossiny the bor-
ror came from the dim dark secret which had

al: a big—ﬁgured Brussels carpet, decidedly the “for so many years clouded her father’s life. He
worse for wear, four chairs and a sofa covered 1 had hidden himself away in the obscure village
with hair-cloth, a small center-table, a large 5 so that his very existence might remain un-
mirror between the windows, and an old-fash- ‘ known to all the world; should she, then, now
ioned piano, which had evidently been extreme  that he was dead, and in the silent tomb, ﬁaunt
ly ill-used; a rockin chair, too, corresponding} the famil name in the face of all creation?

 
with the rest of the urniture, was not missing, 1 Who coul tell what the dark mystery was that
and this Mrs. Mallory proceeded to occupy, mo- i clung so persistently to him? Might not some ;
tioning the girl to one of the other chairs, and , port on o it attach itself to her?
the antiquan piece of funiiture protested with ' No! under his own true name her father had '
a series of agonizing squeaks against such usage ‘ hidden himself away in the quiet of the obscure I
when the 'rl sat u n it, for '53 Kunibell was i hamlet' under a false one she would bury her-
good, soli ﬂesh an bone, and no airy spirit. {self an identity in the very midst of the bi
“ I don‘t think I can give you aroom to your- , and bustling world, safe from any possibility 0
self,” Mrs. Mallor now remarked; “ I am very ‘ discovery.
full. Just now I ave got six of the burlesque “ I do not think I will appearon the stage un-
arty who are laying at Niblo’s Garden Thea- j der my own name,” she responded, after a brief
r, and a den of trouble, they are, too, the - pause. ;
humiesl but they pay well. A room with an- I “ You are not ashamed cf the stage,are you! i
other lady will come cheaper, too, and I suppose; because if you are, you ought not to 0 on. i
you want to save all the moneykyou can.” ,' My son plays under his own name, and have g
To ﬁnish, who had always en used to her ; no patience with these people who think that ;
own neat little room in her country home, ; the must have soma ﬁne. fancy name to act ;
plainly, almost scantily furnished, it is true, but I un r. If an body’s name is an ill-lookin .
everything as neat as wax, the idea of sharing 3 one, and won] n’t read well 0n the him. than
the apartment of an entire stranger was at ﬁrst don’t blame them for changing it. Bridget .
repugnant; but she had set out upon her pur- I O’Flahert of course doesn’t sound as Well as
pose with a resolute mind, and was not one to ; Beatrice ingston, and one would never ima- ‘
hesitate at the ﬁrst obstacle. | ' 9 Timothy Pecksnii! playing Richard, Mao- '
“You don't like the ideal” the mistress of the ’ glib, or Romeo. Your name is not a good i
house mgueried. With her penetrating eyes she stage-name, and it would be better for you to
seem to see everything; change it. Turn Halah, which is the most out-
“NO. it is not a 008 10. become I have 31- landish name I think I ever heard, into Helen, :
ways been used to aving my own room but of ‘ and Kunibell into plain Bell—Helen Bell; there’s
course I understand that I shail be obliged to I a pretty, simple name for you, and it seems like
accustom myself tca great man things that I  a true name, also. and not an assumed one.
am not used to, and the quicker begin the bet- I Keep it all the time, too, in private life as well ,
tor it will. be for me, i suppose.” ! as public, and then, when you get through with
That is the sensible way to look at it,” Mrs. : the stage, you can drop it and go back to your
Mallory asserted, with one of her peculiar sniﬁ's, , own.”
which she used indifferent] to express either j; The advice was good, and the young girl
coutem t or satisfaction. “ f on were a rich , made up her mind to be guided by it.
young ady nowhgoiu off to rding-school, l “ It is not pride, madam, but there are family
you would be obliged . room with some one, 1 reasons, perhaps, which would render it better 1
and think it no hardship, either. Let me see, for me to take the name you suggest, rather
there’s two young ladies who have room for an- than ap ear in public under my own, so, in the ,
other one in their a artmcnts, Nellie Richmond future, Iwill be known as Helen Bell.” 5
and Sara Pearl. on and Richmond would ne-j “Family reasons, eh!” and the landlady in-
verget on inthe world.for she‘sa high-ﬂ 'er, and dulged in another sniff. “Humph! you come
a had egg, too unless I miss myguess, or she’s of old stock, eh? I thought so when I'heard
gotatemper that will bring her into mischief your queer, outlandish name; rich relations,
one of these as s; but Sara is a nice, uict maybe, who may leave on somethin hand- ,
piece, although s ch; as brisk as a bee: I t ink some one of these days f on don’t isgrace .
you and she will be ver good friends after you the old family name. by ragging t in the
get acquainted. I shal c urge you ﬁve do! are mire of the sta Well. it isn’t any business of
a week if you room with Sorta, but if you want-‘ mine. Helen ii is your name, and that is all
eda rocm to ourself it won] be eight." ll know about you, and mind, don’t tell our
“ Oh, I hm better save the three dollars,” 1 true name to anybody, for if you do every )7
Halah at once protested, prudent beyond her: will know it.” .
years. The irl kept her own .eounsel; of what 8006
“ You are quite right, and Sara, too, will be , was itgo tell the lady that, as far as she knew,
of great assistance to you if you are determined 1 she did not possess a single relative in the
to become an actress, for she is on the sta her— world!
self. She is very clever, they 86%; don't I “ Now come upstairs and I will introduce you
know; I never go to theaters alt oufgh one'toMiss Sara; ouwill ﬁnd herayery inco girl. i
might sa that get my bread out 0 them, indeed; ve ively, but not a.bit of harm in
which I 0, at second-hand. ﬂie theater pays her: 80 di erent from that little fiend of a
I 1 Richmond. I shall break that girl’s neck be-

I

the actors and actresses, and they pay me.

keepatheatrlcal boarding-house, almost strictly, l fore shoﬁets out of this house I am afraid.”
you know; very seldom have any one here Mrs.
who is not connected with the at e in some stairs. U three
way but I hate the whole thing, t ough!” thelthe land] y knoc
landlady cried, abruptly, with one of those
('eii outbursts of ,
strangely. “If it hadn’t been f r the miserable. ness

 
allory then conducted the lad up-
hts they went, an then
at the door of the back
sud- room. 1

it, respond . .

I Miss Pearl indulged in t

. lo
offered her ad in the franksst

v the new-ﬂedged

act
ﬂerceneu w ch sounded so‘ A aiming, fresh glee, with just a little sharp- .

“ ‘Open locks, whoever knocks !’ ”

“Just like her; always full of her mischief!”
and the hard face of Mrs. Mallory softened in
such a way that the girl understood that the in-
mate of the room was a most decided favorite of
the rather irascible boarding-house keeper.

Mrs. Mallory opened the door, and, followed
by her com ion, entered the room.

Right in he center of the apartment, sitting
ﬂat upon the ﬂoor, in an old wrapper, terribly
faded, and altogether much the worse for wear,

with a great profusion of white ﬂeecy Skifts,‘

liberally ornamented with gold and silver span-
glee, the typical dress always worn by the stage
aines, scattered all around her, eVidently un—
dergoing repairs, sat the inmate of the room.
She was a rather tall, well-proportioned girl,
with pleasant, regular features, a singularly
clear red and white complexion, ﬁne blue eyes.
and red hair, which curled in little crispy ring--
lets all over her shapely head. There was no
mistaking the color of the hair—it was mOst
decidedly and unmistakably red; not even
the greatest ﬂatterer could have called it au—
burn without blushing at the falsehood.

The girl gave a little scream, and with a
single bound was on her feet, light and elastic as
In in rubber.

“ Well, well, I am caught! 0h, Mrs. Mallory,
how could you go for to come for to do so?” and
she shook her head, reproachfully.

“ Oh, this lady will excuse you. and she might-
as well t used to your madcap ways ﬁrst as.
last, as think of putting her  here to room
with you, if you hav’n’t any obiection. This is.
Miss Helen Bell, Miss Sara ear .”

The new Helen aimpl inclined her head, but,
most elaborate cour~
tesy. The girl was so full of gay, animal spirits
that she exaggerated everything. .

“If you w1 give me your check I will have

our valise sent for, an our rule here is that
rd must be paid in advance—”

“ And no trust!” added the irrepressible Sara,
winking slyly at the landlady.

“ Not With ou; I know you,” dad Mrs.
Mallory, tart , a smile, hovering around the
corners of her mouth.

She received the money from Miss Bell, as we
shall hereafter call her to prevent confusion;
also the check. and then retired.

The other girl had been examining the stran-

er critically, and, when the door closed behind
, she advancedtotho otherand
manner.

“I am sure I shall like you; lam the awfulest

you ever saw for taking likes and dislikeg,

t is either love like a house a-ﬁrs with me, or
else I hate like all . That is because l
have got red hair, you know; all Is, and
men, too, with red hair, need looking r! But,
sit dow dear, and take our things 08.”

And iss Pearl ass“ the new-comer to lay
aside her cloak and hat.

“ One would never take you for an actress,
with that guiet, statue-like face; but you’re-
regular 1 mats drama, I suppose—no bur—
lesque or ck up your heels in a variety show for-
you,” girl rattled on. “ When do you ,
dear, and what theater? Maybe you are one of
star- that are 801 g to astonish
the natives with a combination, lamp?

The girl smiled; there was something conta-
gious in the brisk, cheery manner of the other.

“1am not an actress et,but I he to be
one- I have come to New ork to see I could
not learn to act.”

ﬁiiogld grog“!!! Eon don't say so? Well—”

I! 9 81" '5 3 C Wu! abru tl short
at “1i! P0int by Kmﬂden niiiog grill: door,
and a rather undersized, ck-haired, black-
9 ed woman came da into the a rtment.

e slammed the door to behind or then.
Whip out a she. inted, litterin dagger
from or breast an lied it ore e face of
the country girl.

“80 You have come after him all the way to
3‘8“? York; but you sha’n’t have him !” she cried.

I Will cut your very heart out ﬁrst!” ‘

CHAPTER IV.
sum. nrcnuonn
Tan danger was so sudden. the attack so en-
tirely unexpected that it seemed to transform
the threatened girl into a statue.
Motionless she stood. end With great egos, full
8 89"

 
of wonder, looked upon the threaten

t N touhltlllmg‘gthu '1 sh "
osow t ' eknewthsin-

truder well 1:. andﬁd seen hor in such

humors before, are she was prompt to

ht by her side the bed lay one of the-
sho nolicoman’s clu . such as are worn by the

 
use: :s‘sf‘gz H

H!» -~dc§m B‘QQcﬁO’Spﬁ

. _.m_n-.a_i...a.u Ah-lfn')

 
“in 99$"? 9-" {03?

WW

AN AMBITIOUS GIRL.

a ‘-'~ a}. £1;

5

 
. seeking

‘_ t. 1 w;

 
New YOI‘K rdians of the peace. This was
part of the $59 stage equipment, and by mis-
take had been packed u and sent home with
her wardrobe instead of ing returned to the
“property-room” of the theater where it be-
longed. The club came into service now,
though, for Pearl snatched it up‘ in a mornent,
and jumping to Miss Bell’s side raised it in the
air in menace.

“You, Nell Richmond, get out of my room
with your crazy freaks!” she cried, an 'ly,
and, from the expression upon her face,i was
plain that she could be resolute when the oc-
casion demanded. “ You don’t know this lady,
and you have no business in here, and if you at.
tempt to strike with that knife I will knock you
down even if the blow does break that crazy
head of yours I”

There was a cra look in the woman’s face
and eyes, but for al that she had sense enough
to know the chances were if she attempted any
violence that Sara Pearl would be as good as
her word, and as Sara was tall and werftu
built ablow from the stout locust c uh in her
hands would be no light matter.

Slowl the blackhaired, angry-faced woman
 the hand that brandished the gliﬁering

1 e.
“ Oh, don’t I know her! But I do, though!”
she exclaimed, in a voice which was singularl
low and Sweet though now it should be bars
with anger. 3‘I saw her when she passed my
room in the entry; the door happened to be
ajar and I got a good look at her,_and I recog-
nized you you innocent country girl! in a mo—
ment. I now what you come here for, but I
shouldn’t think you would have the boldness to
come here my. I don’t dare do it and I
have got the right in the world, and et he
has otme tangled up in such a snare hat I
don’ dare to say who and what I am!”

“Who are on talking about, or are you
crazy?” Sara emanded, unable to make any
sense out of this disjointed speech, and rightly
'udging from the ex leasion upon the face of

er room-mate that e also was completely ’
the dark.

“Oh, yes, I am crazy, of course. That is

.what he sa s, sometimes, and that is one of the

threats which he holds over me. If I don’t; be.
have myself and do_ exactly as he says, he will
‘put me in the lunatic asylum and keep me there
until I learn to behave myself. And that is the
way in which he will talk to you after he once
gets you and then gets tired of you, as he will,
as surely as the sun rises and sets!” she do.
dared, with bitter accent. addressin her con-
versation directly to Miss Bell, who stened in
utter and complete amazement. “But you
will never have the hold on him that I have,
and that was where, for once in my poor,
wretched life I was smart. I give on fair
warnin ; don‘t ou attempt to come tween
him an me! I ound your picture in his pos-
session a neat little tin-type, and I smashed it
into a  ieces, and r1 ht before his face,
too-l That is t e refson Iyﬁm
910mm W” W li eneas.

“117 18 in}, cried Helen, indignantly. “I
never Save my picture to a entleman in all
my life. I never had it taken ut once!”

‘Oh. he stole it, of course!” and the woman
laughed. bittel'ly- ‘.‘0f course, stole it—with

our “3310".” she continued; “do ou

11ka at 370“ c‘11 1001 me with an such s -
low trick? What are you doing ere, if you
have not come after mum

There was a use after this question; the
count? 'rl CO“ d not ban answered it to save
her 1i e, or she had no idea what the woman
meant, while Sara ran rapidly over in her mind
the namesof the male occupants of the house,
to discover WhiCh one of them was re-
ferred to, but the attempt was fruitless. Thu-e
were only four "time" stopping in the house.
Signor Br' 0 l, the Italian Opel-3-311189“ who
was a bi at German, of uncertain ago, very
much ad cted to beer, tobacco and late hours;
Thom-s Stubbs, Stage Manager of Niblo’s
Garden Theater, a very elderly Englishman,
.as ray as a and as fierce as a
haw , and who had been engaged for so
many 38811! in blowing up “SUP?!” (as the
non-speaking actors are termed) and bectt-rin
unfortunate ballet-girls, more or less stu hf,
that it had become almost impossible for 'm
to speak in a civil tone to any one; John Jones,
stage-carpenter of the Olympic Theater--a won-
derful ID6431181110. with a positive genius for de‘
vising stage machinery, a surly, dark—browed,
sullen-faced man. who went about as if he had
the weight of a dreadful secret on his mind, but
who, in reality, was one of the most harmless
and dullest (his own peculiar specialty excepted)

ew you, for the

a the 

s , .
 *1i.&i'~t.... , - ' .' -

 
men in the world. Clearly then it wasn’t the
stage-ca nter, and the fourth man was just
as unlike y to be the OI)ij whom the girl
had placed her young a ’ons as the rest-—
Jerome Shank, a scenic artist, a tall thin, elderly

entleman—a living illustration 0 the old pic-
gure always used to ty ify the Bohemian; the
man of the world, the c ild of genius who was
not bound by the cold, conventional rules of
society. He long hair, sharp features. a
red nose, an was extremel careless in his
dress—a man of undoubted ability in his rofes-
sion, but unfortunately so addicted to he use
of strong li uors that he was not at all to be de-
pended on, or when he took it into his head to
go off on a spree, no considerations in the world
restrained him.

Clearly no one of these four alto ther un-
like] men could be the one whom ell Rich-
mon su posed the girl to bein search of, for
Sara be seen quite enough of the dark~e 'ed
vixen to understand that the man to take er
wayward fancy must be either young and hand-
some. or else, lacking these two things, as rich
as a Russian prince.

“I knew absolutely nothing of what you are
talking about 2” Miss Bell returned, indignantly.
“You are a gerfect stranger to me, and why
you should at ck me in this outrageous way is
totally beyond my comprehension.

“ Now, see here, Miss Richmond, this has
gone quite far enough !” Sara interposed, her
sturdy Vermont blood beginning to tin le in
her veins. “ I want you to understan dis-
tinct] that this m my apartment, and that I
consi er your room a great deal better than
your com Now, will you kindly retire,
or shall I ave to follow your example and for-
get that I am a lady and put you out by main
force?”

And the girl, in her an
superb figure up to its in
the other.

Miss Richmond looked at her for a moment
with ﬂaming eyes, but the ﬁre that ﬂashed from
the black ones—the wicked black eyes of the in-
truder, was fully returned by the gleam that
came from the bright blue orbs of the actress.

Miss Pearl’s blood was up, and if the intruder
had dared to brave her, she would most cer-
tainly have forgotten eyerghing but that she
had the muscular stren h put the audacious
Miss Richmond out of a room by main force,
and surely she would have done it.

And the other knew it, too, for, after a mo-
ment’s stead stare with a contemptuous
lau h. she hal - urned upon her heel.

“ ou had better not lay your hands on me
unless you are anxious to get hurt!” she warn,-
ed. “I have no quarrel with you, but if you
should attempt to put me out, i would cost you

r, drawing her really
hight, towered over

dear, and the chances are that the management”

of Niblo’s would have to hunt up a new Stalacta
for the ‘Crook’ to-night.”

“ Don’t you ﬂatter yourself 1” Sara Pearl
cried, with equal spirit. “ If I did so far for-
get myself as to take hold of on, you little
nasty thing! I’d fix you so tha you wouldn’t
gang’to try to hurt anybody‘ else, for some

me.

Again the two exchan ed an looks but
the size and stren th of ﬁlm Pear , as well DI
the temper she displayed, had a great 6366*
upon the other.

“ I may be able to glay you for this, some Of
these days, and un then I am ver much
afraid I will be obliged to remain your ebtor,”
Miss RichmOnd remarked, with mock
It was astonishin how ladylike and
the itﬂre could when she chose.

“ ass that debt won’t trouble you any
more t an the rest which you owe all over the
country, if reports speak true,” Bars. retorted,
with ham sarcasm.

The sho struck home, and for a moment
Nelly Richmond fairl trembled with Mom
her eyes glared, her ands were clenched, an
she seemed upon the point of springing upon
her antagonist, but Miss Pearl presented a bold
front: she was ready for the battle, and Would
not have been sorry if the other had attacked
her, so an ry was she, and so ready to teach the
vixen the’iesson which she so richly deserved.

The spasm of an r lasted but for a moment,

pleasant

however: the look in the clear blue eyes of Miss ‘

Pearl acted upon the angry girl as the steady

aze of the eeper does upon the half-tamed

ts in the circus cages.

For once Nell Richmond had met her master
and she realised it.

“I’ve no quarrel with
tered, sullenly. _
country girl, I give you fair warning that if

 
you cross my path you had better far have trod-

 
i

den upon the deadliest snake in this world. for
sudden, instant death would be a welcome blem—
ing compared to the misery I will inﬂict upon
you. You are warned remember! and blame
me not if in the future I keep my word.”

Then, as abruptly as she had entered, she
quitted the apartment, closin the door behind
her with a bang which re the echoes of the
house. __

CHAPTER V.
sana’s STORY.

“ WELL, thank goodness that she is gone 2"
Sara exclaimed, in a tone of relief, throwing
down the heavy locust club which she had kept
tightly in her hand. “I didn‘t want to crack
the skull of the crazy thing, but I would have
done it in a moment, though if she had tried
to use that knife, although I s’posc it would
have got all of us in the police court. You see,
I know her, dear,” she continued, seating her-
self in the rocking-chair; “ I heard all about her
ca rs and tricks a long time 0.”

Who is she? Is she an actress?” asked Miss
Bell, resuming the chair from which she had
arisen. And as she put the question an anxious
look appeared upon her face, for to her mind
such girls as the intruder were not desirable as-
sociates, and if she was an actrea, perhaps the
stage life was not all her fancy had painted it.

“Oh, no, dear; she is not an actress; she is
on the variety stage; what is called a serio-
comic—sings a song and dances between the
verses,” Sara replied. “She is at Niblo’s Gar-
den now, though, where I am, but only en-
gaged for the run of the Black Crook. In the
second act there are a lot of extra features in-
troduced—dancers, singers and such like, and
this girl is one of them. She’s very clever, too
to give the Old Boy his due, and her ‘ act?’
takes ﬁrst rate with the audience. She gets a
good salary, ﬁfty dollars a Week, and spends
every cent of it before she earns it.”

The country girl opened her eyes in astonish-
ment. Fifty dollars a week seemed to her a

bulous sum, almost. -

Sara noticed the look and understood its
meaning at once.

“ Oh. she gets it !” she remarked, “ and she is
worth it, too, for she is very attractive—to the
gentlemen: the ladies in the audience don’t like
her; she is too bold and forward. She gets
fifty, but she claims to get ahundred; she don’t.
though, but there are some serio-comics who do
command that ﬁgure. You know,on the stage,
dear, the salary one gets is always kept a pro-
found secret, and as a Ygeneral rule always is
augmented one-half. on get ﬂfty, say, but

on declare that you get a hundred, in order to

as up your value.”

Elias Bell shook her head; she did not like the
idea at all.

“That don’t suit on, eh? Bless your inno-
cent heart! you wil ﬂnd there are a t
many things about the stage that will not £820
§our liking. And so you have come to New

ork expresl to learn to be an actress?"

“ Yes, that my intention.”

“ And what did your folks say i” Sara rattled
on; “kicked up a terrible row about it, I so
pose. Mine did; said that I was on the straig t
read to destruction, and all that sort of thing,
but, like a willful horse, I took the bit between
my teeth and I would have my own way.”

_‘I have no folks, not a relative in all the
Wide world that I know of this moment,” Mill
t:Boenll replied, a little touch of sadness in her

0

“Well, you are lucky!” Sara exclaimed, in a
Very decided way; and than perceiving the
look of surprise upon the face of the other, pro-
ceeded toexplain: “I havegood reason to say
90, as you will own after u have heard my
story. My father and m er died when I was
a little girl. My father was a farmer up in
Vermont and owned quite a large farm, but it

wasn’t id for; there was a mortgage on it for
quite a r e sum of money: but, as the mort-
gage was old by my father’s brother, my

uncle, everybody thought it was all ri ht, and
father, even, when he was dying, eon ed me
to uncle‘s care; and uncle was such a good
man! He was a pillar of the church and had
pra ers in his house, morning, noon 1:,
an on Sunda he never could get religion
enough. I used to wonder at it, ﬁrst, little girl"
as I was, for my father was a man in ev-
ery sense of the word, but he never talked much
about religion either. I soon found out that
the reason uncle badge much religion on Sun.

on.” again she mut— ' day was because he never had any at all during
“ But as or you, you innocent the week, but could lie and chest as well as the

reatast sinnerin the world. You see his re-
figion was all a fraud and he didn’t have a bit

- 10-. --.-r ~~

my,»

 
6

an AMBITIOUS GIRL.

 
If

of the enuine article which I believe is gen-
erally e-case with t ose who make so much
fuss about it. Well, this good uncle of mine
managed to cheat me out of my farm.
When the mortgage came due 6 fore-
closed it and then his wife bought it in,
and so when I came of age not one single
cent of what my father had left was there
for me; in uncle had contrived to make away
with all 0 it, and, not content with this, he was
anxious for the whole neighborhood to praise
him for the careful manner in which he had
brought up his brother’s childl Mind you, he
had made me work like a negro—worse for I
never knew a ne ro et to hurt himself with
hard work. I mi k ,and I churned: fed the
pigs, cleaned the horses sometimes, and did all
he chores that he could ossibl ﬁnd for me to
do, and I lived on the at of t 9 land, all the
time too in a hornl” and the girl’s indignation
rose as she reﬂected upon the way in which she
had been treated.

_ “Oh, my uncle lived lendidly; he was a
good specimen of a kind 0 farmer that is alto-

ether too lentiful.
arm all pal for, well stocked, money in the
bank and oaned out on mortga es, but he lived

worse than the common day In orer in any of
our big cities. It was salt pork from one end
of the ear to another. He sold eve thing he
could t at he raised on the (place, fer what he
couldn’t sell to the stock, an what he couldn’t
sell and the stock wouldn’t eat the family lived

I was dying to get on the stage.

lmill life I was leading. Thad always had an
I idea of the s e, for at school, being naturally
‘ full of brass, was always put forward to do
the speaking, and then there was a little ama-
lteur dramatic society organized in the neigh-
1 borhood; of course I was one of the bright and
shininin hts, much to m uncle’s rage, for he
i said that was going st ght to the bottomless
1pit butI lau bed at him and he had to 'n
,an bear it. y means of the ate. 9 I he to
escape from the slave’s life whic I was lead-
, ing. The chance which I had been expecting so
,long came at last. A regular dramatic troupe
‘ came to perform for a week in a village about
! four miles from our farm. I walked over and
iback eve night, and the manager, who was
‘ not only t 9 star of the concern but played the
{bass drum in the band outside and then took
, tickets at the door, scraped acquaintance with
; me, and, as I have said, being always awfully
‘ cheeky—you must excuse my lain expressions
my dear—I made no bones of lling him that

The troupe was
a wee bit of a one, ﬁve men and two women,

He was well off—his ‘ and he was glad to get a new recruit, particu-

; larly when he found hat I was willing to o for

ﬁve dollars a Week and my expenses. hen,

{ too, the Jack had fallen in love with me, and he
jthought, seeing that I
. innocent country girl—and country girls are
i always such innocent creatures, you know my

was a simple, ignorant,

dear—that I would believe all he said. We , to

Icome to Hecuba, to use our sta e saying, I
on. Oh, it‘wasa splendid kind of life, and it is ‘ fslo d’ by night from in

uncle s hospitable

such a wonder to me that people run awe roo and joined the troupe ownat Rutland, the

from the farm and content themselves wit
cit life!”
he country girl smiled; coming straight
from the country herself she realized that the a
picture was a true one, for her father had often
‘called her attention to the strange way in which
some of their really well-tc-do nei hbors lived.
“ Well, at a very early age I ad made up
my mind that such a life wouldn’t do for me,
and when I got to be .1 cod-sized girl I had any

quantity of young t'e lows coming after me, '

anxious to give me achance to do housework
for them, and take care of their children all the
rest of my life for my board and clothes; but I
had seen too many poor women go into untime‘
1y graves in trying to ﬁll such a situation. and
I told them promptly right out, that it
wouldn’t do for Sarah; sarah is my name, ou
know. Sarah Jane Perkins, and if you wil go
up in Vermont anywheres around the dead-and-
a ive city of Burlington on will ﬁnd plenty of
Porkinses. all relations 0 mine, and not one of
them would give me a cent to save me from
starving. I call myself Sara Pearl on the]
stage, you know, because it sounds a great deal :
better. No, I had made up my mind that I,
would not drudge my life away on a farm,3
the slave of some miserable wretch of a,
man, who would almost gru e me the food
that I put into my mouth, an which I would:
earn ten times over. I had seen enough to‘
know that there was a better life than that for!
a woman, and I was determined such a life to
ﬁnd. I was always an independent sort of a
thin and generall 3poke my mind pretty
free y; so uncle an I idn’t get on very wel ,
for when he attempted to impose on me With
any of his religious cant—it used to fairly make
me sick to hear him talk reli 'on,know1ng what
an utter old rascal he was— generally express-
ed my opinion pretty plainly. He never would
have stood itin the world, but would have turned
me out, neck and crop, but I was saving him
the wages of a girl, and, in fact, doing as much
work as aw two hired girls whom he could
have got. e had ten cows, and I milked them
regularlg night and morning, and made all the
butter, fty pounds a week about. And then,
too, keeping me gave him a ﬁne chance to blew
his born about takin care of his brother's or-
phan and that he be eved he would receive his
pay for it in heaven as he was doing it out of

are charity; and all the while I was putting;
three or four dollars into his pocket every-
week.” ‘

“I can apprecmte fyour position, for I have
lived nearly all my li e in a country village.”

“I have lived all of my life that I am ever
goin to live in the country, unless I make a,
grea hit some day as all us stage folks dream;
of; then if I made a few thousand dollars
might have a. country slace down by the sad;
mwaves to retire to uring the hot months.
When not acting, so as to be in the fashion, but
that is all of the country I care for.

 
“ Buttoregirntomy yarn: I had made up my ,
am

mind after I e to age and was my own mis—;
trees that I would avail myself of the first

next day—no one of course in the neighborhood
wnerc I had lived havin the remotest idea

‘where I had gone, for in t le note which I left

behind me I was delightfully foggy. I wrote:
‘Dear uncle, adieu; I go to seek my fortune in
the city,’ and that of Course was my ultimate
destination, but the note threw all pursuit oﬂ‘
the truck for, thinking that I had gone toeithcr

‘ New York or Boston, no attempt was made to

trace me.

“ Well, dear, I can’t really say that I made a
hit upon my ﬁrst appearance, although I had
quite a prominent part; in fact, dear new be-
ginners rarely make a success of it in their ﬁrst
attempt, except in novels, where the heroine,
after everything else fails, always jumps on the
stage and (gains wealth galore at the very ﬁrst
bound, an these people that write such trash
in regard to the stage nerally know as much
about it as they do of t e interior of Africa or
any other unexplored region. In some very
rare cases peo le without experience have been
successful, be not one in ten thousand who try
it can boast of any such luck.

“It would take 11 too much time, dear to
tell you how I strugg ed along; and it wouldn’t
be very interestin either; but, one thing
helped me as it wil help you—I am going to

k very frankly to you, althou h I presume
t e idea will not be Very palatab e; I know it
wasn’t to me at ﬁrst, ‘ cheeky’ as I was, and de-
termined to succeed: Nature had been .kind to
me both in form and face, as she has to you: I
was an attractive girl, and men ran after me.
The manager would never have dreamed of
taking me if I had been an ugly girl; he fell in
love with me—would have on lad to have
married me if I would have had im; he was
clever in his way—a very small way, though.
I was not looking for a husband; I was dream~
ing of a glorious future on the stage, and so I
laughed at his suit.

“ We only played in the little bits of towns,
barn-stormers, as we were termed, because in
the old times of the drama the traveling troupes
were glad to Flaly in barns or anythi else of
that sort. F na ly we burst u , as all t e little
troupes do, sooner or later. had held on_to
my money. I had been with the company 511'
teen weeks and had saved 11 ﬁfty dollars; had
improved rapidly, too, so t at I wasn’t afraid
to go on and play almost anything or Play a"
it, to use our theatrical term, an when t
manager ran oil! with the recei ts one nlﬁbt,
and left us to our own resources, came to ew
York, and I set out to personally inteerew
every manager in the city; I was dewrmlned to
get on if such a thin was possible. I 60}!!-
menced with Wallac , who is the leading
theatrical manager of America, and I wound up

D'
O

I] with Joe Berlie, who runs a. lager'beel‘ garden I

with theatrical performances as an adjum‘ti ‘70

the beer. And this last man gave me my New .

Yorko nin at the m iﬁcent salary of ﬁve
dollarsp: wegek. I plaagdn in what is called a
negro sketch; I was he landlady of an inn
where some ne 0 tramps, Without money,

1 sought accommm ation. The part didn’t amount

lstudgf but the artists—Heaven save the mark!

1 to me certain things which I must sa when
‘ they said certain other things, and for t e rest,

while they were all off the stage two or three
times, I could say What I liked, and I did; I
‘ made up ’ as an old Yankee woman, and with
my Ver- out brogue I upset the negroes com-
pletely, so that the audience thought I was the
star instead of they, and I made a hit. They
were fri htfully in ignant, but the manager was
deli h ; he had agreed to give the two a bun-
d dollars for the week, but my success gave-
him a chance to say they were a failure; so be
discharged them at once and put two ten-dol-
iar-men on in their places. Then.I got a chance
in a burlesque to exhibit my fair prmions.
It was awful at ﬁrst to wear the short , but,
I got used to it, and then my star began to rise;
so now, dear, I am the best Stalacta in the
Crook in the country, and I am supposed to get.
a hundred dollars a. week.”

“ I have never seen but one stage performance
in my life,” the country girl observed. “Uncle
Tom s cabin was the play, but I have read a.
great deal about the stage.’

“ M dear, you can’t tell anythin about it-
at all reading. In the ﬁrst place, uring the
last ten years the stage has turned upside down ;.
it isn’t at all as it used to be. Once there was a
distinct line between the Variety saloons—as
the Music Halls are called—and 'the theaters,

but now it is hard work to tell where one be-
ins and the other ends. I hippo» our idea is
dy cbeth, or-

play tragedy—Juliet, or
somethin 0 that sort?”

“ Yes, have learned the part of J uliet.”

“You will never get a chance to play it unu
less you hire a theater and try it at your own

expense. You must commence at the foot of

l the ladder; I can get you a chance, probably;

ou will get about ﬁve dollars a week—enough
live on and that is all. ”

“ And what will I have to do?”

“Nothing to speak of—go on and off, that’s:
all, but you will get used to the footlights, and
that is not such an easy matter as some peo 1e
think; or you can try the managers as I di ——
then you will be satisﬁed.”

 
CHAPTER ‘VI.
a mnnrcus mam.

Nien'r had come, and by this time the coun-
t girl had be u to get a little used to her po-
si ion. She ha debated at great length With
the lively actress in regard to what was best to
do, and the latter, seeing that her head was full
of the idea, which she had got from reading
about the stage, that it was . to procure a
chance to show the talent whic she believed
she had, advised her to consult the different;
man ers at once, and then she ,would be satis—
ﬁed. ara “knew the ropesv’ and she was
therefore well enough aware that a single da ’3
experience would prove to the girl that getting
on the stagedwas not “1011 an easy thing as .he
had su e .
But Esp“ t Fiece of luck had befallen our
heroine ght a the outset. In making the ac-
uaintance of the actress and enlisting her as a
griend, she had _builded better than she was
aware. Ban, With that peculiar 1m ulsive-
uses which was so strongly a part of or na~
ture, had taken a great h ing to the stranger
and already in her own mind had determln
to help her along all she could. With the keen
e as of expenence she had “taken stack ” of
the r1. _ “ SP0 is good-looking—more than
- ookms, 1;: fact, she observed to herSelf-
“She is beautiful and with a perfect] mag-
niﬁcent ﬁgure; a lad . too very grace ill, and
ladylike, and evidently with a good education.
There isn’t the slightest reason in the world
! why she shouldn’t make something on the
l stage, although it may not be the fortune she
i dreams 0f, and the quicker she cammences to
895 mad to what is before her the better.”
. and so, actin on this plan, the actress told
‘ Miss Bell that i she liked she could accompany
her to the theater that evening. f Course the
l other eagerl accepted the offer.
I “It isn’t the easiest thing to get a stranger in
, behind the scenes,” the actress announced, “ for
the rules are very strict and our old back-door-
keepcr is a regular riﬂin generally. If you
were a man it couldn t _be done, but as there are
1 about a hundred girls In the piece, and it has
only been running since Manda , it isn’t pos-
’ sible that the old fellow has go all tho faces
‘ down in his mind yet. If on have a water-
proof you can ut it on an come in with me,
and he will not apt to suspect that you are a
stranger. I have a dressing-r in all to myself,

 
Chance whiCh Offered to 9“ Ont 0’ the treﬁd'l to an ything—wasn’t even written out for me to , and from the landing you can ook down on the

 
. - .... a-‘_-k_.__.e...._,l

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 t
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i‘w  -

 
- hind her every now and then as though

 
5w

7

 
and get a pretty good idea of the show—
it all a show nowadays, you know. That
term used to bergplied to a circus or some-
thing of that ki , but now everything is a
show from the grand opera down to the learned

1g.

And so, glad of the chance to gain admission
behind the mystic scenes, the country 'rl went
with the actress, and, as the latter ad sur-
mised, the old backdoor-keeper never suspected
that she was a strangfr. He knew Miss Pearl
well enough, for she ad played at Niblo’s be-
fore, and of course an posed that her compan-
ion, following her wit such rfect composure,
was one of the girls of the ct.

Miss Bell passed the guardian of the portal
without exciting any particular attention, but
if she escaped his searching gaze, she was not
so lucky in regard to another person who hap-
pened to be passing along the street just at the
Very moment when she entered the stage door
of the theater. A very brilliant gaslight
glowed at the stage door, and as one of the
stage carpenters was passing out, just as the
two ladies came to the door. they were com-
pelled to halt for a’ moment until the man got
out of the way: standin as they did right in
the full glare of the lig t, their features were
distinctly visible to all the passers-by, generally

- {few and far between, for Crosby steeet is not

uch of a thoroughfare. .

It was just one of those odd things which
appen sometimes: A lady was I) up the
treet—a well-dressed, blonde-haired, b ue~eyed
oman, bearing a real! wonderful resemblance
the country girl. S e was older, though—a

"'"blose observer would have said, considerably

lder' but the difference in ages could only be
., ld by the absence of the youthful bloom
which shone on the face of the would-be

 
5 actress; this apart, she appeared about as young

I
co
2'
o
3
D‘
0
‘1

Indeed, they looked eno h alike to be sis~
or perhaps mother and aughter, although
he stranger was hardly old enough for that.
She was richly dressed, looked every inch the
lady, yet upon her face wasa strange expres-
siOn, an almost masculine look, and as she
walked up the street she glanced furtivel 
l'ul
of being followed. This lady came by the back
door of Niblo’s Garden theater just as the two
girls halted under the gaslight, and thus the
aces of both were plainly revealed to her.

She started, then stopped and stared, draw-
im: her breath hard as though laboring under
grunt excitement. .

The two ‘rls passed into the building uncon-
Icious of t e scrutiny. For a moment the
stranger remained motionless, staring at the
open oorway as though her eyes could pene-
trate through the darkness which reigned with~
iu:-then, apparently actuated by a sudden im-
gulao she walked  up to the old back-

oor-lreeper, who, sea b the open door in
his shirt-sleeves, was smo ing a ipe in the
most calm and serene manner possi le.

“Who is that lad that just went in!” she
demanded, in the qu ck, imperious tones of one
who had been used to command.

The old man looked up astonished at the
question as well as by the tone in which it had
been put. for this was a visitor someth out
of the common run—the usual haunters o the
back door being dashing young men about
town, anxious to scrape an a uaintance with
some fair creature of the bal et, whom they
had ogled with their cpera- glasses from the
front of the house; or a romantic and foolish
school-girl “dying” to geta glimpse of some
favorite actor or actress.

And, somehow, the old man felt inclined to
answer the question, although, as a rule, he was
rough and disagreeable enough. But in this
case something seemed to tell him that it was
no ordinary motive which impelled the question.

“That was Miss Pearl ” he said, never think-
ing for a moment that the lady referred to the
other girl, whom he took to be a member of the
ballet—a rson of no consequence whatever.

. “Miss earl?” exclaimed the lady, reﬂect-
ivel - “the name is not familiar to me. ”

“ Sara Pearl, that is what she calls her-
self, but it may not be her true name, though;
it’s more than likel it ain’t: these actresses. a
goodmanyof’em, ou’t oby theirownnames.”

It was a wonder the oﬁl man volunteered this
information, for it was not like him to waste
words upon any

“Actress!” and t en the lady looked up at
the building in wonder, and the old man under-
stood immadiately that she had not the slight-
est idea of what purpose the building was used
for.

3

 
“Yes, ma’am, this is Niblo’s Garden theater
and the lady is one of the actresses engage

ere.

“ It cannot be, and yet—the resemblance is
wonderful' but she is in England,” the woman
muttered, er mind evidently in a fog, and
never taking the slightest notice of the old door
guardian. ‘What am I as ing? I have for-
gotten the lapse of years. he child would be
a woman, too, .and just about her age. I must
see her; a few moments’ conversation with her
will solve all doubts. ”

She made a movement toward the door of the
theater, and the old man, understanding that
she intended to enter, immediate! rose.

“ I beg your rdon, ma’am, ut it’s ag’in’
the rules,” he said- “ no one is allowed to go in
without a pass, unless they are employed on the
premises.”

“ Yes, yes, I understand l” the lady cried, im-
patiently, “but you must allow me to break
the rules for once!” And out came her ket-
book which was completely stuffed wim bills,
and she attempted to force a two-dollar note
into the hand of the door kee r.

Now this offended the old fellgw, for he prided
himself upon his inte ity.

“No, no, ma’am; t t won’t do!” he exclaim-
ed, pushing the bill away. “ I couldn’t let you
go in. If you will come at about eleven to-
night, ou will catch Miss Pearl as she goes
home, at you can’t go in!”

“ I will go in, and stop me if you dare!” cried
the woman, haughtily. She advanced a ste ,
and there was a 00k in her eyes which fair
scared the man, although he was a pretty rough
and tough customer, old as he was. “ I will 0
in l” she re ated, fiercely' “stand out of e
waly or I wi 1 do you a misc 'ef.”

he door-kee r was astounded; never before
in all his experience had he encountered such a
woman.

“Go ’wa , ma’am, or I’ll call the police l” and
he backed into the doorway.

The woman cast a rapid glance around her as
if to see if there was anybody near, and there
was—three men were proaching cautiously
up the street. She saw t em in a moment.

“I am tracked, then,” she cried.

A carriage happened to be passing at the mo-
ment; it was a common coach, goi along

uite slowly, and the driver, a stupid- coking
ttle Irishman, seemed half—asleep on the box.

With a sin le bound almost the woman lea
from where e had been standing to the box of
the coach, then with a violent push she sent the
driver headlong into the street, he being totally
unpre red for such a thin , and she caught the
reins rom his hand as he fe l, snatched the whip
from the socket and applied it lustil to the
backs of the horses who, astonished at t e treat-
ment, broke at once into a furious gallop, and
up the street she went at headlong speed.

The three men, who had evidently been dog-
ging her, were not altogether unprepared for
sue a movement, for they had a coach follow-
ipg behind them, and immediately jumped into
1

.‘f Follow that coach! Ten dollars if you keep
it in sight!” the leader of the three cried.

CHAPTER VII.
BEHIND 'rnn SCENES.

TOTALLY unconscious of course of the strange
scene being enacted on the outside of the thea—
ter, Sara conducted her companion to her dress-
ing-room, which was an extremely diminutive
apartment up two ﬂights of stairs. The landing
0 each ﬂight was so arranged that from it a view
of the stage could be obtained—not a very good
view, only a partial one, as the scenery was in
the way.

“ You see, dear,” the actress explained, “ you
can stand right outside my door and get a
pretty good view of what is ing on, only it
Won’t present the sight that it does from the
front of the house, for on are behind the cur-
tain and you can see t e wires that move the
puppets! Ah! it removes a great deal of the
sta e glamour to get behind the scenes.”

hey had entered the little dressing-er and
Sara turned up the gaslights which just showed
a glimmer of light only. She noticed the look
of surprise which appeared on Miss Bell’s face
as she gazedaroun er.

The dressmg-room was most meagerly fur-
nished. Two rows of shelving were arranged
around the walls; there was just an apology
for a carpet upon the ﬂoor; in one corner was a
common wash-stand with a pitcher and bowl;
there were two chairs and a looking-glass, but
nothing more.

‘ This doesn’t look like the dressing-rooms
you have read about. eh. where the actresses

 
AN AMBITIOUS GIRE.

!

 
receive the noble lords who come between the
acts to compliment them upon their triumphs?"

observed, placing a chair for the other
and beginning to remove her things.

“ No, not much.”

“Well, this is a pretty fair sam le of what
dressing-grooms generally are and w at they all
used to in this country; England I don’t know
anything about. But now, when they build a
theater they deign to remember there are some
little insigniﬁcant things called actors and ac-
tresses connected with it, and the provide them
with apartments that are a little better than the
stall of a well kept horse. Why, I played in
one opera house once, in a ﬂourishing city on
the banks of the Mississippi, not a thousand
miles from Quincy Illinois, where the ex chitect
actually for ot all about the dressing—rooms
until after be building was completed, and
then, when it came to be opened, and the com-
pany had assembled.‘l lo, and behold! there
wasn’t any place for t em to dress! Something
had to be done, of course; so some little cubb -
holes, about as big as good-sized dog kenne s,
were arranged up in the ﬂies—that is that plat-
form overhead where the ropes are fastened.
But they are getting wiser now, and in some of
the new opera houses there are actually running
water and steam-pipes in the dremin -rooms.”

And as the actress chatted away 5 e got out
her dresses and be an to disrobe.

The dress that ' Pearl wore as Stalacta
was a very peculiar one—in fact, it might be
said to be no dress at all. and the color fairly
came into the face of the country ' l as she
saw with horror what a liberal disp a of her
well-pro rtioned form the actress ma e. Her
nether limbs were incased in ﬂesh-colored silk
tights; her arms, which were really beautiful,
bein as white and as round as the arms of a
chub child, were bare nearly to,the shoulders
and al the dress she wore was a sort of a short-
sleeved 'acket-bodice, with a ir of short
“ trunks ’ which came down -way between
the thigh and the knee.

“ Surely, you are not
fore a multitude of poo
Bell exclaimed.

And the question was a natural one, for a
dress more calculated to display the beauties of
the female form divine the art of man could
hardly have devised.

A quick ﬂush came over the face of the
actress for a moment, for she winced at the

uestion; then she laughed, for long ago she had
ought the battle with herself.

“Dear, I don’t wonder at the question, for
when I ﬁrst went on the stage if anybody had
even sug ested that I would display my le—
limbs in t iis way, I would have been horriﬁed
at the very idea, but I have got bravely over
it. It has come to be a matter of business, and
I think no more of it than the ' h-toned belles
and matrons of society do when eygo to pub-
lic balls with dresses cut so low in the neck that
they might as well, as far as decency is con-
cerned. have on no waist at all. It is all a mere
matter of custom. I get my bread this way; I
cannot get it as well any other. I know it is
not very nice, but it dOcsn’t make anyldiﬂfer-
ence in me; when I mod the stage I know that
I am just as good and modest a irl as I used
to be in my Vermont home, before I ever
stepped foot on the public boards. -In fact, I
am more modes for then, whenever there
were any parties in the neighborhood, kissing

mes were always played, and I Have been

issed twenty times in a night by twenty dif-
ferent boys, and pretty well towzled about, too,
in the bargain, and no one thought that there
was any harm in it because it was the custom,
but I would like to catch anybody tryirfany-
thing of that kind now!” Her eyes ashed,
and she drew her tall ﬁgure up as she spoke un-
til she looked like a very ueen.

“I know I never coul do it!” the country
girl declared: “and if I mv‘t do it, I mayas
Well give up all thoughts of coming an act
ressl

ing on the stage he-
in that way?’ Miss

“Oh, no; that isn’t necessary, This is only
one line; there are three or four others, where
you won’t have to exhibit yourself quite so
much. But, at the best, remember that to act
is to make a show of yourself : you can’t dodge
that fact; and any one who pays the money to
Come in has the right to stare at you all he, or
she, pleases. To a certain degree the moment
a man or woman steps foot upon the stage, it is
to become public property. And on must to-
member. too, that a certain part 0 the world—-

uitea large number of people—believes that
are isn’t such a tint? as a cod man orwo-
man upon the stage. ou ' find that belief
pretty strong. and that is another thing You

“

  
I

  
AN AMBITIOUS GIRL.

 
will have to submit to. I tell you what it is, i
dear, the Woman who wins the laurel crown
upon the stage has to pay )rett dearly for it.
But, you will see in time. ry t e regular act- 1
ing; go in for a tragedy queen; you ma suc- !
ceed; others have done it, although I ailed.
But, there is one thing in regard to this costume
which I must explain to you. I don’t suppose
on will understand it: few do until they have
11 years in the profession, and have got used
to it; and that is, when we are on the stage we
are not thinking of the audience at all—we are l
thinking of our parts—how soon we will get}
home—how much money there is in the hens“,
and, sometimes, whether we are going to get,
our salar or not. We never think of our dress, ‘
whether he audience are staring at us or not. 
W'e take it for granted that they are, of course; ‘
that is what they paid their money for. You
will understand this feeling when you get be-,
fore the footlights in good earnest.’ l

The call-boy’s shrill yell: ,

“ Last musicl OVerture on, and everybody 1
down to begin l” echoin through the entry 1
without, .put a stopto t e conversation just,
then, and Sara. bestowing the last hasty touches
to her toilet, prepared to descend to the stare.

“ You can stand on the landing without,” she
said; “I don’t think anybod will notice you, ,
but, if they do, tell them hat you came to,
dress me; then the will think that I am trying I
to put on airs like t ese French and Italian dan-
senses who bring a whole family to wait upon
them.”

Then Sara descended to the stage, and Miss
Bell took a position upon the landing. Every-
thing. of course, was new and strange to her.
The curtain would soon rise. and all was now
hustle and confusion upon the stage. Stubbs,
the stage-manager, whom she recognized at
once, having been introduced to him at the
boarding-house at supper-time, was raging
around the stage like a madman. He was a ﬁne
specimen of the old-time stage-manager, who in
order to make his authority respected, thought
ihpecessary to swear at everybody and every-

ng.

The orchestra outside were playing away for
dearlife, and the bum and bustle of the audience
crowding into the house could be distinctly I
heard above the music—the gallery gods, as the
occupants of the upper circle are usually termed, ,
in particutar, rushing into their places like a.
herd of buifaloes.

The stage was full of carpenters in their shirt
sleeves, fairies in short skirts, demons in horrid ‘
array, and all the motley characters that go to
make up the Black Crook—the greatest spectacu- ‘
lar pin the ate 0 has ever seen.

Sud enly, wit a ﬂourish, theoverture ended. ,
Then there was the tinkle of a bell.

“Clearl” yelled the stage-manager, and, as if
by magic, the stage was vacated by all not con- ,
cerned in the beginning, and the curtain rose. ~

Three wonderful hours of sight-seeing our ,
heroine then had. ;

CHAPTER VIII. [
m NEW YORK mundane. ?

Am the performance ended, Sara deﬁed
the light, airy robes of the fai queen, and
once more assumed the prOealc gar of civilized
life, then the two girls proceeded homeward. 5

“Well, dear, I ave commenced to pull the .
wires for you, already.” Sara announced, as;
they walked along. “Old Stubbs took a fancy ‘
to you tonight at the Iu per-tabla; it was a
wonder, too, for I never ew the crusty old
rat to take a fancy to any one before.”

The appellation bestowed u n the veteran
stagedirector ﬁtted him we , for, with his

'sha gy my hair and whiskers, and his aha ,

pea od eatures. he looked more like arat -
most than a human.

“ I am glad to hear it.”

“ He's a valuable friend to have, for he is one of
the oldest men in the business. and managers at—
tach a great deal of weight to anything he says.
Yes, he wanted to know who on were, if you ,
ware a professional. for he sai that you had a

face and ﬁgure, and looked as if you could
o somethie . I rather evaded the uestion l
and, althoug I didn’t tell a downri c ﬂb, i
came pretty near to it. I said that believed
you hadn’t much practice. He caught l
eight of you at the theater to-night, and re:

marked again that you had a face which would happy to 9133' Romeo to “Ch a dim” Jun“ 3-5  did from their mP‘mon'

light up well. You see, the stage-managers,

calculate in regard to our personal attract ons .

a gootd deal as if we were a lot of horseeor‘
. l

Yee,~'how diﬂerent from the life which I

imagined it to be,” the country girl confessed,

with a sigh. Already some of the illusion was ’agemont prevent me from giving any

vanishing.

,‘ study; acting is an art which must be acquired.

‘ careful study. Get a competent teacher; stubd’};

1well instructed. Ve

" And he said, too, that be guessed he could
make room for you next week if you didn’t
want too much mono .”

“ What does he waht me to do?"

“ I don’t know that; the conversation was in-
terrupted iiust then, but he will probably tell me
the next c name he gets.” ,

The golden opportunity which she so earnest-
ly desired seemed near at band now, but the
girl rather shrunk from it: from Shakespeare’s
Juliet to ﬁguring in the Black Crook was such ,
a terrible fall.

But, she was to call upon the manager to- ;
morrow; perhaps there might be something}
better in store for her.

Restless was the ni ht she passed;ugly dreams I
haunted her pillow, ut her companion—who 1
after all, with all her intelligence and goodl
sense, had a great deal of the animal in her—
sleXt like a log, tired out after her night’s work. i

ftcr breakfast in the morning, about nine ,
o’clock Miss Bell set out upon her mission. Sara ,
had directed her to callupon one of the up-town l
theater managers whose especial pride it was i
that he had introduced to public notice some 1

actresses who had succeeded in pleasing thei

public.

“I made them, sir,” he was wont to declare
in the lofty and digniﬁed tone which he thought
necessary to his position. “They had some
little talent to begin with. I grant you, but
without the aid and instruction which they re-
ceived from me they wouldn’t have amounted
to anything." And to ive the actresses due
credit, they spoke of the r former manager ex-
actly as he spoke of them; it was their talent
which had made him ,' he was “rather clever,” ,
gut without their services what would he have 

one?

This gentleman received our heroine in the '
most dignified manner. If he had been Presi-
dent of the Re ublic and she a begging oﬁice—
setiker, he coul not have been more formally
po ite.

In a few words she made known her mission.

He shook his head.

“ N 0 experience at all ?”

She was obliged to confess that she had not.

“No chance at all for you, miss: you had
better give up the idea for the present. Go and

Natural genius is something, of course, but it is
absolutely nothing when compared to years of

 
for two or three years, then make a do

i shall have an 0 en wen, and I was just specu-

 
latiu what I

ould put in. Now, if you would

f like t at week  think we can make an arrange-
: meat. I will give you the theater heated and

lighted, with the attaches, before and behind
the curtain, all complete and ready for business,
for a thousand dollars.”

The girl looked at him, perplexed; she did
not E‘Eactly undeﬁsgnd this ﬂgifier.

en you.wi ve to i our com

you know, and the music, and 5the newsmr
advertising, the printing, bill-posting. etc; you
can get them all for about two thousand so you
can safel count that your expensrs for the
week wil not exceed three thousand dollars.
My theater will hold about a thousand to
twelve hundred dollars, and there are eight
performances in the week, you know, six nights

‘, and two matinees. Eight performances, sup-

posing that you took a thousand dollars a per-
ormance, would amount to eight thousand dol-
lars; that would be ﬁve thousand dollars proﬁt
on the week; but you could hardly hope to do
as well as that, being comparatively unknown,
unless, indeed, you should succeed in making a
great hit the ﬁrst ni ht. Such thin . have been
known you know; ut, to be on t e safe side,

i we will sa that vou will plav to an avers

business 0 one-half the ca cit of the houses:3
say ﬁve hundred per nig t. That would be
four thousand dollars for the week—a thousand . ’
dollars proﬁt and the glo of an opening in
one of the most popular heaters i the me
tropohs. If you were successful, both ame and
fortune would be within our gras .

It was an alluring picture, truly, but our
count girl had entirely too much sense to be 1-,}
dazzle by it; besides, where on earth was she?
to get the three thousand dollars? and so she
immediately replied that she had not that -.
amount of mono at command. ’

“ Oh you don t need it all,” the manager re” -
assure - “one-half of it, ﬁfteen hundred dol
lars, w'l be enough to carry you through
There is the thousand dollars for the theater—
that is always id when the contract is sign
then ﬁve hundigd more for advertising, etc.
and the rest you can pay out of the receipts oi
the house when it comes.”

Of course the girl was not well enough ac-
quainted with the theatrical business—which is
one of the stran eetand oddest trades in the
world—to know t such a thing was possible
as to open a New York theater and not take
twent -ﬂve dollars a ni ht, instead of ﬁve hun-

somewhere, and if you are successful, and you i dred, ut she was afrai of the venture, andso

think you are destined for the stage, then come
to me; I can always make a vacancy for talent,
low salary of course—
in fact, as a rule, all the ladies who enter my

, theater do not ask any salary for the ﬁrst sea-

son, for the stamp of my theater insures their
ultimate success.

Our conntr girl was not deceived‘ she felt
assured that t 9 man was an arrant charlatan,
and had a great mind to ask him how a woman
was going to live upon nothing for a whole
year. She resisted the impulse, though, and
allowed herself to be politely br wed out.

The next manager she called upon had a
pretty little theater a short distance up the
street.

IIe was a rather undersized, sharp—faced man,
With red hair and whiskers, and the peculiar
sharp look common to Hebrews the world over.

He was very civil, and very polite—quite 8

contract to the pompous dignity of the other,

and being by nature, too. a great ladies’ man, he
was at once impressed by t e personal appear-
ance of his visitor.
When she had made knewn her business. he
caressed his chin and meditatcd for a moment.
" Let me see. ” he said, reﬁectiveiy; “ I reath
don't see any chance for you at present. I o

‘ not run a stock company now; I mere) let my

theater to combinations or play t em on
shares: but I have an open week now and then,
and we might arrange something, for I must
say, miss, from your appearance. and the man-
ner in which you speak. on impress me with
an idea that you have eat. Are you up in
any character l"

‘ I have studied J uliet, sir.”

“Capital!” he exclaimed, enthusiastically
“ you couldn’t have done better! so use
to be a favorite part of mine, and I should be

I am sure you would make.”

He intended this for a compliment, out, in-
stead of leasing, it alarmed the girl, for she
did not 11 e the we in which it was spoken.

“ But I am outo harness now,”he continued;
“I haven’t played for years; the cares of man.
attention

{to acting. Let me see! in about a mcnth I

4 getting a thousand dollars out of h

informed the manager; and when that acute
gentleman found there wasn’t an chance of
visitor for
a.theater which only stood him six hundred a
weelir,lhe proceeded to get rid of her as soon as
35 b e.
p0It is hardly worth while to detail the lady’s
further adventures in her quest for a manager
who was willing to give her a chance to show
what she could do. The result was an utter,
total failure. The mana er whom she had in
her mind’s e e, eager to scover and
native talen existed not; or, at all events,
was not controllin a city theater at present.
Heartsick and discouraged, she returned to
the boarding-house, and Sara listened with in-
terest to her story.
i “What did I tell, youf’she exclaimed. “I
limew how it would be before you started.
Mana era run theaters to make money, and
there sn’t much in novices. My dear, you will
have to come to Niblo’s.”

CHAPTER IX.
mum arm nomme.

Tax dollars were not to be picked up at every
corner so the announcement that it would
ten dollars in his ket if he overtook the ﬂee-
ing coach in i the driver of the ascend ye-
hicle to use t e lash on his homes; but the wo-
man, having the start of the few moments lost
by her pureuers at the outset, whirled around
the corner into Houston street.

The man who had oﬁered the ten dollars was
, a tall, stout gentleman, well-advanced in years,
, yet well- reserved—a man of position and stand-
i mg evi ently, for his companions usually ali-
, dressed him as “ Professor, ’ thou h sometimes

 
they called him Mr. McDonald. 9 other two
i diﬁ'ered as widely in their ap nee u t.th
he was as bla

g as a coal—a he so dark, that the saying that
* charcoal woulgnh’mke a white mark on him,
! seemed a t. The other was as full~blooded a
I Paddy-w k, as had ever greased a bro or
twirled a “nate black-thorn twi "in the mer-
g aid Isle. Julius Oglethorpe the was -
! ed, and the Irishman answered to the name of
l Dennis O’Toole.

 
/'

‘I

AN AMBITIOUS GIRL.

 
“Upon me wourd !” the Irishman exclaimed,
as the carriage jolted so violently over the
stones as to render it no easy matter for the
men to kee thpir seats, “there will be a spill
presentlyi this baste of a driver isn’t careful.”

The negro also looked anxious and was bold-
ing on for dear life, but the Professor being
ponderous and heavy, had braced himse f and
was not very much annoyed, by the violent mo-
tion of thecarriaig.

“Take it easy, ysl” he exclaimed, “it can’t
last long.”

“ No, cab, (is carria e won’t stand it,” the
negro observed, solemn y.

.‘ That’s so! a truer wourd than that was
niver spoken, bedad!” the Irishman chimed in;
“ oi! wrll come a wheel nixt, and into the tter
we’ll go, and if we don’t break our necks t will
be bekase we are luck .”

“ Never mind the risk; the pay is good, boys,
and _if we once succeed in getting our game,
It W111 be a hundred dollars in each of your
pockets.”

“ If we break our necks beforehand mi hty
little good it will do us, I’m thinking,” the lgrish-
man grumbled.

“ I’zc more afeard, boss dat we will git in
trouble wid de police,” the black observed;
“(lat critter is gwine to ﬁght like a tiger-cat,
when we puts our claws on her.”

“.Oh, don’t trouble your head about that; the

bee will not bother us when they understand

he matter,” the Professor answered; “but I
want to avoid a scene if 'ble. It is import-
ant that the aﬂair shoul not et into the news-
papers. If we can get hold of er, her, get
oer into the coach and then take erdown to
the steamer without attracting attention I

_should like it; and the rty that em loys us

would like it, also; , although I vs no

fight to promise such a thing, yet I feelsure
that it would be money in our pockets.”

_’ Seehyer,bois disyeret’inghascOstaheap

1 ready, hain’t it!” asked the negro, abruptly.

tjind in this matter wouldn’t grudge a t

i‘o'illars or two." dd ha

ecarrlagscameto a an en lt. and the

Professor, expectingthat the prey was hunted

down, at once sprung from the coach, followed

by the other two.

‘ Sure enough; there was the other coach, at a
standstill; a little knot of people was gathered
around it, while one man gra the reins by
the horses’ heads; but the woman was not to be
so: n.

The Professor, a shrewd man, undersde the
game at once. The moment the coach had
turned the corner the woman had quitted it,
and the horses had kept on in their wild career
until stopped by the venisrresome fellow who
had thong t it was a. runaway and had dashed
out into the street and stopped the steedsin
their at ht.

But, r she had left the coach, whither had
she gone! and lg what miracle had the woman,
incumbent! wi her skirts, succeeded in mak-
i theldgperate leap and escaped unhurtl

0 sssor mingled with the crowd; he
was after-information but none could he gain;

1103“ m Of them had seen the woman.

“amp-33m wentilrlrnﬁltihelﬂmt doom;

“Cor III, ea from
carom, 1” turned back to‘the corner. “ It
was I cunn

13‘ trick, but we will have her yet 1”
The 115“ house from the comes was unoccu-
Piedv g“ W118 ﬁshti locked it was impoaible
that t 0 Woman coal have found shelter there.

The, wcgndthonu was the theatrical boarding
man’wn 6" b M"- Hallory, and the Pro-
fe’sor at on“ m h“ u'lm'll this as the probable

P‘?‘iii°‘§§i‘“§' cal um,
i is n cor w d be
of course, but the basement “pt '0 be t ed’

one -
locked," hemwked. u no hurrﬂgggg :3-

der the main entralpctei‘

And, sure enous t 0 bmoment doorw
fastened, so the WM entered withoutugeti'gf
mony. A psssa 16d into the beyond and
the men traversed “5. their idea being that the
woman would not attempt to hide Within the
house, but would proceed through to the yard
itind endeavor to make 1101' 080390 in that direc-

ion.

In the yud m 3 small wood-shed with a di-
lapidated door and thro h the chinks in this
door the black dress of t e woman was seen.
with a cry the three pursuers precipth
themselvesagainst the door.

 
CHAPTER X.’
a scarves.
Tan had fairly “freed " the game: and ex-

   
es: but the party who pays has got plenty. I
housand

pectin a stout resistance they had throwri
tlicmsc ves ainst the door with all their force,
and as the oor was not fastened tire conse~
quence was that all fell headlong into the wood—
shed, in a heap.

Again the woman had tricked them! Antici-
pating that she would be followed, she had
stri ped off her dress and hung it up just with-
int e shed as a decoy!

The hare had bafﬂed the bounds.

bruised limbs ruefully.

“ We shall have to begin the chase all over
again I" the Professor exclaimed. in disgust.
“She must have 'a disguise on underneath her
dress, and the chances now are that we will
havie a, hard time in getting upon her track
a a n.

Evidently she had scaled the fence, got into
the next yard and had then made her way into
the next street through the house to which the
yard belon ed.

The Pro essor mounted an ash-barrel and
took a survey of the ad oining premises, but
not the slightest sign di he see of the fugi-
tive.

Dennis now suggested:

“Shure, don’t ye think, Mister McDonald,
that we had better be afther callin’ in the police
to he] us!"

“0 , no!” demurred the Professor, “this is
no case for the police. IVs want to kee the
thing quiet. All the fat would be in the re if
we let the authorities know anything about it.
And, to think that I wrote to the madam yes-
terday that I had got'a. certain clew to her
whereabouts and that by io~night we should

robably have her on board of the steamer and
go on our way to the South.”

“ She’s a born imp, sah, for mm!” the n
exclaimed, with a sagacious shake of the head.
“ She’s beat us all to nuﬁln’, I ess.”

“All is not lost yet, boys,” eclared the Pro-
fessor; “we have got a sort of a clew. That
man in the doorwa whom she was talking
with when she caug t sight of us may know
something about her. e’ll go after him at
once.

“How about the dress—shall we l’sve it?”
asked the Irishman, with a covetous look at the
well-made garment.

“Yes, Iwrll speak to the folks in the house
about it: she may come back to claim it and so
aﬂord us a clew. We mustn’t leave a stone un-
tin-ned to accomplish our object,” the Professor
announced.

As the three turned to reenter the house they
encountered Mrs. Mallory who had noticed the
strangers acting in such a cious manner on
her premises and had come own to see what
thrﬁ wanted.

e Professor proceeded to explain. He and
his companions were in sound: of a lady who
was unhappin a little affected in the head, not
exactly crazy, and yet not reall sane, except
at intervals. And when one 0 her euliar
moods came on it was her fancy to magine
that she was pursued by enemies and she would
ado t any means of escape that offered.

eshowed the ligathe dres which his pa-
tient, as he descri the fugitive to be, had
worn.

“ It is very evident,” he explained, “ that her
malad has come on worse than usual this time
for it plain by her leavin this dress behin
that she as provided herse with another one
under it; that shows that her mind is stron ly
set on this delusion that she is pursued, else ﬁhe
would not have adopted this in nious plan of
throwing her pursuers oi! tﬁg track. 80,
madam, if she returns for the dress as she
grobably will, if you will have the kindness to

stain her if possi is, by gentle means of course,
and send word to me, you will greatly obl' a
me, and will be doing a service to this d y
amicted woman :” and as he ﬁnished the hedges-
sor handed Mrs. Mallory a card upon which he
had penned his address.

The Professor had a ve plausible, easy we.
with him, and the boar lag-house kee r, af-
thongh a keen woman of the world an much
given to suspicion, never for an instant doubted

a truth of the story.

“Well, I will do all I can for you,”she re-

lied, gutting the card away carefully. “ What
s the d ’s name?"

“Oglet o , Mrs. Thomas Oglethorpe il be?
right name, ut when these fits are upon her,
she ver seldom owns to it, but calls herself by
half-a ozen odd ap nations.”

“1 Will tryand etain her if she comes for
the dress until I can send for you,” Mrs. Mal-

 
10%pnomised.
a Professor was profuse with his thanks,

The three picked themselves up, rubbing their :

and then, with his companions, took his de-

parture.

Bidding the hack follow them the Profesaor
and his satellites proceeded directly to the back
door of Niblo’s Garden Theater.

By this time about all the people engaged in

i the evenin rformance were in the house,
f and the ol k-door-keeper, seated upon his
s chair and pulling away at his pipe, was yet
1 cogitating over his peculiar interview with the
m tor-ions woman.
I ‘ Blessed if I can make head or tail of it,” he
! muttered. “Guess she must be a circusridcr
or else she never could make that lea onto the
3 hack.” I never see’d anything like it smce I was
born.
4 With the mind of the old man in this state
the Professor had no trouble in getting from
' him all that he knew in regard to the woman,
0 which was little enough.
' She appeared to know Miss Sara Pearl and had
i insisted upon going into the theater after her, al-
l thou h warned that it was ainst the rules,
1 and t on she had made the sud en rush, ending
i with thclea on the hack, and that was all that
the old door eeper knew about the aﬂair.

The Professor did not reveal who he was, or

1 that he had any particular interest in her do-
ings, but merely spoke as if he was a b stands
who had become interested in the air. He

I was careful, though. to make a note of Mis
] Sara Pearl’s name, for if the woman did know
: Pearl through the actress he mi ht be able to
i ﬁnd the fugitive. Two wires ha the Professor
laid, but, after all, be trusted more to chance or
accident than to anything else. By accident he
had got upon the track in theﬂrstplace, and
though the woman had been clever enou h to
throw him off-yet be trusted that he mi t be
lucky enough to strike the trail a second time.

CHAPTER XI.
an va'sxrman PROPOSAL.

TEE country girl returned home completely
discouraged, ut Sara cheered her up by excit-
ing her self—amnion.

‘My dear, if you listen to the cry of the
world, you will believe that all the theater-
msnagers in the country are on the alert to 
cure talent—to encourage risin genius, and all
that sort of thing: but, it isn t 80: they don‘t

 
care a for anythin but to make monev:
that is w t the are after, and why should
any one blame mi It isn’t their business to

establish an art-school. When the genius is
made apparent—when all the world is ready to
rush to see, it, and ready to pay their money
for the privilege, than the managers will gladly
come to terms; but, like men in any other busi-
nem, they are not anxious to buy a in a
'ke; they wanttoseetheanimal, sm 1 lame
them! and know what they are paying their
monev for.”
“Ibegin_to despair,” and the novice’s trou-
bled fﬁs’ce rigid not gainsay her words.
“ . g gracious, on mustn’t despair;
that wrll never do!” the lively Sara , .
“ Never d 'r is the motto to win th in this
world. Bu , there; I never thou ht of it be-
fore! There is another chance— ars the
dramatic agents.”
Miss Bell looked at the actress, inquiringly;
shedid notunderstand themeaningof the tenn-
“ The dramatic agents are the brokers who

A deal in goods theatrical—living goods—actors

and actresses. A wants a company: he
to the dramatic t and makes known to
him his desire. and a once the agent proceeds
to supply it. You are an actress out of employ-
ment; on go to the agent, and be its our
name (Iown in his book: Miss Helen ll, end-
ing lady, chambermaid, or whatever linekit is
that on profess to play, your residence, etc.,
and than, when a manager comes in, searching
for talent, the agent submits your name among
the rest; in fact, not to put a fine point on it, a
re ar intelligence ofﬁce.”
‘But, I am not an actress, on know,” the
other demurred, with a  
“ That doesn’t make any ' erence: amateurs
as well as re professionals put their names
down. Min , dear, I don’t say that there is
much of any chance for you, for honestly, I
don’t believe there is, but it is just as well you
should it, then you will be satisﬁed. I
know old .tubbs has made up his mind to Bet
you in at Nihlo’s, for he was talking about you
again to-dai, but until on are there
e

isn’t an ot r chance or you, I Mme you
won’t willing to make your t in the
Black mock?”

“Oh, no; I would rather notl” the ' 1 ex:
claimed, impulsively. The Very thong t was

 
odious to her.

 
\

iO

 
AN AMBITIOUS GIRL. ‘

 
Sara shrugged her shoulders, and ed.

" Wz-ll, well, the descent from Julie to the
Black Crook is rather startling but if you are
really in earnest about becoming an actress, i
am afraid you will have to get used to it. But,
try the a cute this afternoon, and see what you
can do w th them. I will go with you, if you
like ”-an offer which Helen eagerly accepted.

“ Oh, if you will be so kind!” she cried, grate-
fully.

Sin-a. sniffed scornfully at the idea of kind.
mess in the matter, and so it was settled that,
aficr dinner, the two should visit the dramatic

agency.

At the table, that day, the veteran sta e-

manager, the rat-like Stubbs, was unusu y

ions, much to the general surprise for

tubbs was a crusty old customer, and seldom

wasted words upon anybody. But, on this oc-
casion he was quite nial, entered into conver-
sation with Miss Bel , and remarked that he had
noticed her presence at the theater, and added
that he presumed she would like to see the per-
formance £20111 the front of 1the house, aiid, i so,
hewould ha toget era‘pass’atan
time; not that 2R: wasn’t welcome behind thye'
scenes, for she was at liberty to come there at
her leasure.

is was Sara’s opportunity to put in a word,
as she perceived the tyrant of the stage was in
an unusual good-humor. So she proceeded to
explain that she had taken the libert to bring
Miss Bell in behind the scenes, alt ough she
knew it was against the rules.

The stage-manager replied that it was all
right, and that if the guardian of the back-
door said an hing, to refer to him; Miss Bell
was uite we come at any time.

Th s was a point gained, but Sara, with all
her shrewdness, was uzzled to account for this
kindness in the usual y cross-grained Stubbs.

The meal ended, the two girls rohed them—
selves for the street, and departed upon their
mission.

The dramatic agency was located in Union

uare—merel a ar store upon the ound
sq y partigtions into three li le of-

goor divided by
ces.
Quite a number of well-dressed gentlemen

were lounging about in front of the agency and me

some few were in the oﬂlces; they were ther-
ed in little groups of three and four, t e ma-
jority of them either flourishing light canes or
else mdustriousi engaged in sucking the heads
of their sticks. e looked like a lot of spruce

oung clerks, only t ey didn’t stare at the two
adies as they passed into the office half as un-
blushingly as the average clerk would have
done. ‘

“All actors waiting for a job,” Sara ex~
plaincd, as they passed through the crowd.
Quite a number knew Miss Pearl and they
hastened to bow in the most elaborate man-

ner.

Within the inner omce sat the dramatic
agent; he was a short, thick-set ntleman with
a vela' insinuating way with im. and when
Miss ell was introduced he received her in a
manner which seemed to impl
really hungry for the pleasure 0 her acquaint-
ance. .

Miss Sara explained what her friend desired,
and the a cut promptly answered that there
wasn’t the‘least doubt in regard to an engage-
ment, for, as he explained in a conﬁdential
way, there was a dearth of talented oung ac-
tresses and he had daily applications in man-
e rs that he could not supply).

elen was much cheere y this ammnce,
notwithstanding she detected the incredulous
look upon the face of her companion.

The agent, taking down a large book, pre-

that he was ,

I Sara’s li curled as she noted this and she
common audibly upon the fact.

“ Looks as if there was a dearth of amateur
actresses, eh?” she observed. “ This list of
names proves that, conclusively; and, see what
thescam has written opposite some of them.
g‘Miss Be e McKeene: awfull green; splendid
diamonds though. Minnie artridge; weighs
'about 200; fine for fat woman for a museum;
,‘wants to play Juliet, oh, heavens! Pauline
i Hyester; ugly as sin; (got stamps; might back a
‘troupe on t 0 road i talked to sweet. Clara
Peacock; high-toned but soft as mush. Lizzie
Kendleton' red-headed and crazy as a bedbug.
Mary Blackie; £001- and proud, a Bowery shop-
girl, maybe. tta Codriuton; too smart for
an hing.’ And now, dear, I wonder what he
wi i put after our name?”

The hot tins of shame swept over the young
girl’s face. I

“ Isn't it disgraceful?" she murmured.

“Ah, ousee on have ot a great deal to
learn ye about 0 stage,” replied. “The
amateur who desires to go u the stage is
thoughtto be fair me for ri cule b almost
every one. This oi y scamp undoub y talked
just as fair and smooth to all these girls,
against whose names he has penned these insult-
ing remarks, as he did just now to you. The
man can’t help it; it comes natural to him. To
use slang, he must give ‘ tally ’ to every one he
meets.”

“ Then there isn’t any chance for me?” Helen
aske‘g, despau'ingly. .

“ es, a_chance to be struck by lightning, as
they say in the negro farce; but, come; you
don”t”want to see any more of this octopus, do

on

“ No; let us go!” Hope was at dead low tide

now. .
“Old Stubhs is goin to do something for
you,” Sara , con dently, as the rose to
their feet. “And, after all, what ereuce
does it make whether you get on the stage in
the Black Crook, so long as on do get on, or in
one of Shakespeare’s traged es?”

“Very true; and since I am determined to
become an actress, why, I would be foolish to
refuse'the only chance that seems to be open to

“ That is the ri ht way to look at the matter;
it is just like w ing your face on a cold win-
ter’s mOrning; the water is terribly chilly, and
makes you shiver to look at it, but, after the
first plunge, you get used to the cold and think
nothing of it.”

The cut intercepted the two ladies as they
depa and was profuse in his apol 'es for
having been obli ed to leave them and ear-
nest] desired M as Bell to call again, as he felt
sure 6 could soon procure an engagement for
her when once the managers me uainted
with her a ance; and then, as e two

' ls walke< out of the oﬂice, Sara remarked to

or companion:

“He wants you to come and Sit in his Ofﬁce
so that the managers can get alook at you and
note your fine pomts like be girls in the intelli-
gence ofﬁces. On the stage we must. make mer—
chandise of our ﬁgures and our faces. That is
the disagreeable part of the profession, but to
stand upon the s age and awe _a thousand peo-
ple at our owgsﬁrgst  ma 111:8 than] lalugh
orcryatour l( , swore ego
of the art comes inf}? ry

Helen sighed; stage life, she already saw
was not all that her fancy  painted it, and
a question that many an anxious mind had do-
bawd before was bemnmng to trouble her: Did

 
the glory of the art compensate for the discom—

‘ forts of the life!

Sara, from the fund of her experience, could

ceededtoregister the name and address of the have answered the titration easily enough.
so.

young lady. Just as he had completed this for- Yes, it did compen

mall
head in at the door and begged for a few min-
utes’ conversation with the a t. He at once
excused himself to the two i ies and withdrew

to the outer apartment where he and his caller l Dark Md
in a busy conversation, both ,
with note-books in hand, apparently settling!

were 8001! en

some wei hty matter.

The r star was left a u n the desk and
as the two girls were sea rectl'y in front of
the desk, and the dramatic agent wrote a re-
markably large and
natural that they shou
note what was written thereon.

It was headed: .

“ Novrcns—Wounn-sn Amassns.”

Then camgha llongt listdof names, twentyt-ﬂtze:
at eeas an o tesomeo e; '
’  man had pen- l sacred to the prompter and his assistants.

or thi
names he genial interm
.‘iled a few remarks.

, a gentleman in the outer office stuck his star.
I lottery,

plain hand, it was only
d glance at the page to

{ prompt” is

if you were a
on won one o the great prizes in the
well and good; but if, instead of a
rise, you drew but a blank, then it was more
han an open uesflioiizd ,

8m eed a the r09-
pect, and the adventuring gir  p '
but, to

If

prove the old 9;; ' that the arkest

our ‘8 a1“my 8 before thg’lggwn, that very eve-
ning a leam of ii ht suddenly shone upon
Helen’s ife path. She accom ed Sara to
the theater; old Stubbs met them as the)’ “m9
in, and in the most gracious manner possible in.
vited Miss Bell to come down and, in
piompt place, where, as he said, she would

ve some chance to see what val 8°an 011- ‘ .
his night to find fault
a

Something entire] out of the common was t

invitation, for theypromptpalzw gsNiblo’s—the
ﬁrst entrance on the rig tr d e—is alwa s
e
the stage Qﬂicial who attends to the

the i

rin ng up and down or me curtain, the changes
a: t e sczgeg, andi Essists the) acuilrs when one
, ppens orge is t, w i rin the
' words to him, the .wlllar rsysomestriﬁws gloud
i enough for everybody in he audience to hear.
gAnd of all the s e-ma era that anybody
' had ever seen, Stub was e most particular
. about the prompt entrance, and usually raged
‘ likeamad bull when any one dared to disre-
gard his mandate and stand there' therefore,

1; was Sara’s wonder at Stubhs’s invita-

‘ ion.
“What on earth is the man u to?” she mut-
tered to herself, but she did no:) sa anything
: to her com ion. Miss Bell, total ignorant
E of course 0 stage matters, thou ht t e old gen-
tleman was very kind and ed him as p0-
litely as she could, without bein in the least
aware that, in order to favor hernia had broken
through one of his most stringent rules.

But there were more and greater surprises in
store for Sara that evening.

Among the ladies who were emplo ed in the
piece, a half-dozen represented village girls

riends of the heroine, and with the principal

one of these girls-a tall, dark-eyed, queenly
beauty, about as handsome a girl as there was
on the stage—old Stubbs took occasion to kick
up a most ridiculous row at the end of one of the
acts. No‘ sooner was the curtain down than he
I bounded onto the stage in a frightful state of
anger.

" Miss Lane—Miss Laue!” he cried.

The rl turned in astonishment, for the tone
fore ed dagger.
“ How d you la h at the audience in
such a manner?” he cont ued, angrily. “ It is
really disgraceful! I won’t have any such go-
ings on.

“ I didn’t laugh, sir!” exclaimed the girl, in-
dignant at the aocusatiogé which really was al-

, or

most entirel unfound she had only
‘ smiled sligh y at seeing a entleman in the
front row of t e orchestra wi a large bouquet

gianedhfandhvevrhich she knew very well was in-
or .
10;; Eau did! II saw yang” £0 gsu think I have
e use 0 my 0 08 W -
gray. “If I catch )you doing surzhoa us
again I will discharge you on the s t.”

H Oh, you needn’t trouble yourse f to do that
sil' " cried the ' l “firin " “It don’t
like the we I h’ave all8 clipha toyd: is to
say so and will go.” y W _

w ‘Yg’chlal‘, I don’t like it; and, what’s mom, I
on Ve it, and since you are so independ'
l enth t1:37i,i’ppose you quit after next Saturday

 
i ‘Thatsuits me "u: 1 u Innﬁhtil

igglthen witheto’ss ofethg:r aheed’marc ed oy
s e.

j “She has been uttin on airsforsoﬁie time,”

, Stubbs Observed,p turmgn Sara Pearl, Who

to

T was at his elbow, and half witnessed the scene:
“and now there is a chance for your friend
mder. She can commence Honda rﬂix dol-

a week,” and with a very sells: lsﬁed look
Stubhs proceeded to his duties. _

i Pear with all her stake expemmoe, was as-
tound It was all clear to. her now. Stubbs
had picked a quarrel With W88 e in order to
get an opportuni? ‘0 ,dlicbarse her and so

,make a vacancy or Miss 3811. At fintSara

,was inclined to tell 1101‘ (“end all about the

i matter and warn her that Stubbs evidently had
some eep pul'lmso View or he would never
have taken somuch trouble about the matter;
but upon “Goad thought, she resolved to re-

f n.
, “No; let the P11? 80 0n,” she muttered. “ The
'rl is no 10013 I 0 hows enough totalle care of
Eel-self, and she didn’t I do, and no one shall
man? a victim of her while I am around. ”
Mm Bell of course was delighted at her good
fortune. The of the peanut girl was a
modest one, and she had no objection to wear-

‘ in it.
i ﬁnd so it came to pass that the novice made
i her grit spasmnce upon the “38°- Aided by
zBai‘asprac cedcamshe mule a beautiful ap—
. penance. and old Stubbs went out of his my to
I compiling: her. m his

0 e manager "3059 ‘1 min
that she should rise—and as he was ln supremg
command of the saga. It an Opportunity did
not 8118!: he made one.

After Miss 3911 had been anthemggfor a
coupleofw andsoln‘meamregctusod
to t a novel pm    Mlon one

k ith one of the lswho had

6w words to spell '1 ‘ 900110- 6 com lained
that she didn't-peak loud enough; the gaid at
dirt hear

to the young

ltlhe front 2; the that they coul
er and en a NP 3 mining
skiff he exclaimed:

 
we”

/'

AN AMBITI'OUS GIRL.

1?

 
“Here, Miss Bell, you try that speech next
week.”

This capped the climax. Already Stubbs’s at-
tention to the ' 1 had been noticed, but now
she be an to f the inﬂuence of that jealousy
which so strongly a part of the artist’s life.

Sneering remar were openly made; so that
Miss Bell could hear about “Stubbss favor-
ite,” “ the stage manager’s t,” and had it not
been for Sara 8 friendship, he would be actress
would have had a time of it, for the mo-
ment that Stubbe singled her out as a favorite,
the rest almost unanimous] united against her,
and nearly all protested t at she would never
be able to speak the lines which had neen in-
trusted to her.

But, she did, and spoke them well, for she
possessed a beautiful voice ver clear, very
sweet, and ver strong. Stu bs, n the prompIt-
er’s box, watc ed her anxiously and when 0
saw that she had succeeded, he ru bed his hands
together gleefully and exclaimed to the prompt-
er: “I knew that girl would do—l knew that
she bad stuff in her.”

The débatante was one girl picked out of ten
thousand for she faced the footlights undaunt-
edly, without displaying the least tremor, and
even her jealous rivals were compelled to admit
that, undoubtedly, she had the making of an
wire" in lien d thank to Stubbs t

woweesmore an s ,8 9-
single bound Miss Bell ascended half a doaen
rounds of that extremely steep and uncertain
ladder that leads to the temple  fame.

The lady who played the heroine in the Crook
was out of sorts one night; it was whispered
that she had quameled With her husband, sepa-
rated from him, and that a suit for divorce was
in the near future; an wasv, she did not act
with her accustomed sk' l. tubbs, as watchful
as a terrier after a rat, proceeded to take her to
task for not attending to her business. She
wasn’t in any humor to be scolded, and so a
“ﬂare-u "took lace ending with the lady in-
dignant y dec n that she would never act
another night un er Stubhs’s stage manage-
ment. This was what the craft old
fellow wanted; so Miss racie Plan us got
her walkingggapers, and Miss Helen ll was
p t in for e part. It was very short; no
c uce for acting, and about all that one had to
do was to look pretty and speakthe lines, which
the débatante did fully as well as the other
lady. The managers in front were content, for
lady No. 1 had received thirty dollars per week,
while Miss Bell was glad to take eight. This
was Stubbs’s strate y, for if he had not saved
the box-omce twen‘ y-two dollars per week, the
mana ers might have objected to the change.

80 he countr girl had become an actress,
not a good one y an means, for all she yet
knew how to do was look pretty and pro-
nounce her speeches intelligently.

A month onger the play ran and then the
and came; anew “ spectacle,” as the play which
relies for its.attractiveness upon scenes, cos-
tumes, etc. ratha- than u n nctin , is called,
was anutio be mundane Stu be had al-
ready s ken to iss Bell about pin a part
in it. was not to remain, hav ng engaged
to go with a traveling troupe who were about
to astonish the small cities with the glories of
the Black Crook. Our ambitious 'rl was in a
dilemma, for she was also 0! an engage-
ment at a sale: with the traveling troupe
and she di not like he idea of separating from
her friend, but Sara advised her to remain at

N iblo’s.
“ You have got a 00d position; hold onto it,
but demand more y; ou don‘t get enough
'ng about dressing

to live on now, to say no
your parts proglerly.”

But Miss Be was not fated to remain at
Niblo’s Theater. Atlast old Stubbs showed his
hand. He requeitved the fleasure of Miss Bell’s
company in the parlor a the boarding-house,
one day, and then, in the most formal manner,
made her an offer of his heart and hand. The
girl was completely ,Surpnsed; "Id Stubbs, per-
cein she hesitated to answer, proceeded
to X ' thatin ft W039? was made in'a

urel; business 113 t; he was satisfied that she
had great talents for the stage, an aided by
his inﬂuence and knowledge, e co d make a
star out of her and a fortune could be won. _

This was the secret of Stubbs’s mterest in the

'rl He was getting old: work “’88 besi
a ,be oppressive, and he wanted some one to
an rtandcareforhim inhis decline.

ithfa  Helen d1 eclineda til:t offer.
At one 0 w 1; an any 0 was
shat She hadbhﬁlilevad that Stubhs’s in-

terestin herhadarissn because with the eyes ’

of experience he saw that she was Roinz to

 
make agreat actressand wished tobetheﬁrst
to encourage rising genius. after the fashion of
the kind gentlemen of whom she had read in
novels; but, alas! those gentlemen seemed to

exist in novels only.

Stubbs was ours and said bluntly that she
was an idiot, an that without his aid she
would never get on. The discussion was be-
coming unpleasant; so Helen ended it by with-
drawing from the apartment.

Sara aughed when with sorrow the rl re-
lated to her the particulars of the internew.

~“I could‘have told you that he had some
scheme in his head a long time ago!” she pm
tested. “Mighty few men have I found in this
world who Will assist a friendless girl just for
the pleasure of doing a good deed-that is, as
farasmy experience goes. So .it is to be the
Black Crook and the ‘road’ after all. Wel
sit down, dear; write to the manager and to
him that you will accept his offer. I don’t like
to travel, for it is an awful hard life, but it is a
solid party, the money is sure, and we are likely
to have a long season. Anywalv, I am lad
that we are not to be so ted, or somet ing
seems to tell me that am oing to be of a
great deal of use to you one 0 these days.”

CHAPTER XII.
on at: now.

Am a week of rehearsin in New York,
De Silvio’s Mammoth Black E‘rook Party—so
the or ization was termed—“ took the road,”
to use the theatrical phrase.

New Haven had been ﬁxed upon as the no
ing city, and the entire troupe left New ork
by the Sunday evenin boat. There were
twenty-four le in e company, so that
there was q te a fart . The managers and
pro rietors were t e e Silvio brothers, the
we] -known dancers, but the mono ed man who
found the Wealth which was to en ‘u the show
was a De Silvio from rivate life, of whom no
one had ever heard be ore as he was not a pro-
fessional. The two De bilvios the dancers,
were tall, Frenchy-locking fellows, but the
third was apparentl the oungest of the
three and was sligh in h d, ver dark in
complexion and looked a great deal ike a Cu-
ban. He was a very uiet, retired sort of fel.
any, and rarely joined n the general conversa-

on

As it was a beauth moonlight ni ht, nearly
all of the were on deck, en 'ng the
sail up the Sound. Sara and Miss Be kept to-
gether, and had rather withdrawn from the
rest of the party, selecting a retired spot by the
wheel-house. a

Miss Nellie Richmond formed one of the
party, and as was usual with that erratic dam—
sel, she had contrived to get herself into hot
water at the very beginnin of ‘the (:3; No
state-room had been secured or her, a when
she ascertained this fact she at once took the
managers to task about it, but the De Silvio
brothers were old stagers and laughed the irate
“ serio-comic ” to scorn.

“You can hire the whole boat if you like!”
one of them exclaimed. “ We only agree to
ordinary accommodations, no sleeping-cars, no‘
state-rooms, and if you don’t like it, you can
get 03 and walk.”

In a fit of rage Miss Richmond departed to
interview the clerk in regard to a state-room,
and salt ha pened that she was not on deck
when a tall, ndsome fellow made his appear-
ance in the midst of thetroupe. He was a very
distinguished-looking man, withfcurling blue
hair, which he were quite fang, ﬁnely-cut fea-
tures, and a generally aristocratic look about

him.

He was at once accosted for he was widely
known amon lprofessionals.

“ Hello, M oryl” was the cry.

And it was indeed the young actor of whom
the reader has already heard considerable—
Gordon Mallory, the son of the boarding-house-

kee r.

With that careless air of easy grace which be-
came him so well, the actor acknowledged the
salutation.

“ Where are on going?” was asked.

“ To New ven; I’m a member- of your
sari. now,” he replied. “ I am going to do Bu-

ol . Your other man sent word at the last
minute that he couldn’t join, and so they came
hot-foot after me.” ..

“Glad of it!" exclaimed one of the perfom-
ers, heartily. “You will ﬁnd that you are in
good com any. “ By the way, we have one of

our cular friends along—Sara Pearl.”

“ es?” and the young man smiled; be under-
stood the obiect of the remark. It had once

 
,,_- -,...__.

been widely reported that he and Miss Pearl
Were likely to make a match. .

“She is forward, by the wheel‘house,” added
another of the party.

“I must anndsee her then,”and noddmg' to
the up. e proceeded in the direction indi-
ca .

The moon was so bright that the deck was al-
most as light as bﬂday so Mallory had 'no
trouble in ﬂndin iss earl, but, great was
his surprise when e beheld her companion.

“Can it be possible?” he cried, in amaze-

“ Mr. Mallory!” and Miss Bell, rising, tender-
ed him her hand, while a soft blush crept over
her checks.

The keen eyes of Sara Pearl were upon the
faces of the two, and she read what was written
t ere.

“So, so!” she tho ht to herself; “sits the
wind in that uarter You are in love with
eagh other, eh Welluyou will make a nice
co plel”

And Sara Pearl was ht, for a better match-
ed, or a handsomer pa , it would have been
hard to find

“ This is an unexpected pleasure, Miss-v”

“ Bell—Helen Bell, that is my name,”the girl
hastened to

Kai-r31 Sara noted‘gilis h situates.

“ e murmured, e onl
Elven me a half-confidence. geien Bell isn’t

er rght name, after all.”

An asGordonMallo pressed thetinyout—
stretched gloved hand w ‘ch had been extended
to him,the sagacious Mi- Pearl noticeda
culiarlook steahng over his face—a look t

led her clever as she was. He was'evident-
 ﬁlled tones the girl, and yet he was troubled
is mind b the unexpected event. He
glanced about him in a nervous sort of way as
heI feared tili'at some one watc him.

“ amont estage now, '

“ With this party 1” 81d

6‘ Y“. ’1

“Well, this is stran e; I have just joined.”
a; Illiudolph cdnclu not to come, than?” San

e . '

“Yes, at the last minute, and they hunted me
up to take his place; I only arrived in town this
evenin too."

“ We this lady plays your sweetheart.
Aff’t you ghdi” Sara demanded, mischiev-
ous y.

The words and the manner in which they
were spoken alike confused Hole and again
the faint pink blush tinged her chegka

“ h, yes,” and Mallory emayed to smile, but
he was strangely disturbed; there was an awk-
wardmomentof mzmmmge
man in a nervous way won on wi Inch.
“Miss Pearl as you are now aware thislady
and myself have met before, and although it
was just a chance acquaintance, and I presume
that neither of us ever expected-to be fortunate
 to see the other again, yet that‘chance
acquaintanceship will, I am sorely antidhbe

roductive of much evil to both of usif is
own to the world at large."

It was a strange speech, and it wasn’t a won—
der that it made the two girls open their eyes.

“ I cannot. explain why I s in this man-
nsr,”hehastened tosay: “it is 'hle for
me to e but. what I have ted is the
truth. Itm not be known to an one that
we have ever met before. I do no: ask you,

Bell "—he hesitated a moment on the
name-—“ to tell muntruth. No one is likely to
question you, and yet, if you were Questioned,
and I were questioned also both of us could in-
ply with honest candor that Gordon Mallory
and Helen Bell never met until this night
"i°zi‘b‘i.:°i.m“p£$‘.’i” n...

int ' ap u 1’s li .
 ‘8 ‘ as: "linguaﬂimham‘
. e ry o s ht
consi‘ t truth.” md t, m

* t ms no one, ma save both of us
from a great deal of trouhle—mise , -
hapii” the young man exclaun' ed, with (Earp

earn . .

Sara, though she could not understand i IW
that Mallory was vex-i much interested itl’l‘the
matter, and th ht t at it was only right for
he‘s; to Aid him to he extent of her power.

Well, for my part, I don’t see why you
shouldn’t keep the acquain
you want to,” she remarked.
one’sbumnessbut your asfaraslcan see,
andifyouchooeetokeep W” 0111‘-
selves, Eon surely do not wrong an one ”

But, elen was troubled; upon woman’s
mind the shadow of dancer lowered: but from

' asecretif
“ t isn’t any

 
412 ,

AN AMBITIOUS GIRL._ _,

 
C ' W:- ;;T';. 1..- — A— —-—‘—~‘“' ”

whom, or how, or where the evil threatened she
could not uess.

“Well,
“ the past is dead and gone, and now, Sara,
please introduce me to this gentleman,” and she
smiled through the troubled look which had
over-spread her face.

t With all due gravity Sara introduced the
wo.

“ And now sit down!” she cried. “ and tell me ,

where you have been for such a long time, what
parties have you been with, how was business,
and did you get your mone i”

Miss Pearl was nothingi not practical. '

Nothing 10th, the youn actor sat down by
the two ladies, and soon t ey were all bus ‘ in
conversation, the cloud which had at first fa len
upon them having passed away.

Fifteen or twenty minutes were spent in con-
versation, Mallory improving the opportunity
to watch the face of the country girl, and never
did this rare beauty look more rarely bountiful
than under the soft light of the moon.

The hum of the conversation of the rties
upon the stern of the boat came quite di inctly
to the ears of the trio who were enjoying them-
selveeso well, and ever now and then a burst
of laughter would brea out on the air. And
then, just as the conversation between the three
ﬂagged for a moment, a shriller laugh than
usual—evidently from a woman’s throat—came
out clear on the night air.

This laugh seemed to affect Mallo unplea-
santly, for a perceptible shiver shock is frame
and a shade came over his handsome face.

“ What a disagreeable laugh i” he exclaimed;
“it seems to go right to the marrow of one’s

Miss Pearl turned up her nose in scorn. She
knew the laugh well enough.

“Don’t you know who that is?” she asked;
“ but haps on are not acquainted with the
——the . Itz Nellie Richmond l”

Then t ere was a dead silence. Mallory sat
with his eyes ﬁxed upon the deck as if he had
not heard the name. .

Miss Pearl looked at him in astonishment: had
the man suddenly become deafl

“ Nellie Richmond, the serio-comic singer,”

she repeated.

“Yes, I know her. I must go and see about
my state-room now, if youladies will excuse
me,” and he rose and precipitately retreated, a
aton look upon his face.

“ hat on earth has got into the maul” Sara

demanded. _

But, Mallory did not go to see about his state-
room; no! He sou htt e other side of the boat,
found a chair in e shadow, and  him-
self in it, bowed his head upon the ral and
grouped in an h.

But not mm“, for a light form had fol~
lowed him, seated itself by his side and then
laid a hand upon his shoulder.

Hallory started and raised his head; a glit-
tering, keen-edged knife ﬂashed before his face,
andaaangrypairofeyes looked into his dark

 
CHAPTER XIII.
a IYSTIBY.

“You miserable wretch, why shouldn’t I
drive this steel home to yOur heart?” It was
Nell Richmond who spoke.

“ Because on tiger-cat, you haven’t the
courage,” replied, sternly, confronting
the woman with eyes as stigma her own.

“Hav‘n’t I the courage? ’t you dare to
try me too far!” she retorted.

' Put up your knife and don’t make a fool of
yourself; you will attract people’s attention in
a moment.”

“ What do I care if I do?” rejoined the wo-
man, deflantl . “ What do I care if I do?” she
repeated. “ {Vhat do I care if the whole world
knows what is between you and I?"

“ Will you stop your noise?” he exclaimed,
hoarsol , and with a face white with passion.
“ You have been drinking, and the liquor has
:pset what little sense there is in that crazy head

om's.”

‘ I have onlyhad aglauortwo of champagne,
and, my heavens! if am not to drink, how can
I ever get through this terrible life of mine?”
the woman exclaimed, wildly, yet obeying the
injunctions of the other, and sinking her vorce
so as not to attract ation.

“It is the wine that uts you 3p to these in-
fernal tricks,” he went on, bitte . “ But, put
upyou’rknifemrIwill take toss it over-

ou won’t dare!”
1Vzi7on’t Il” he cried through his ﬂrmset

M
6‘

it so,” she said, after quite a pause: ! h
ito do it,” and she replaced the knife in her :

zteeth—J' not only the knife, but you after it, if
Iyou rovoke me .”
yes, I don’t doubt that you would like

bosom, and smiled mockingl in the face of the
‘ man. “ No doubt on woul like to put me out
'of the wa , so the you would be free to enjoy
your new auty.”
; “What are you talkin about?”
“ Oh, I know all about t! I know all about
; your love-affair with this country girl and how
she came to our mother’s house in New York
5 after yOu. was there at the time. I boarded

1 at your mother’s house all the time I was play- .

! ing at Niblo’s.”
‘ I would not have thought you would have
dared to do that.”
“And why not?” -
“ She won
w‘ho Vou really were.”

tell her, eh? Instinct? Not much!
rare good fun for me to sit at the table and
watch her face, trace there the likeness to our

lines of care upon your mother's face were due
to me.”

“ You are a devil, if ever there was one in
this world!" and young Mallory clenched his
, hands with a savage impulse in his heart to

throttle her.
“ But she hated me, though;_ take that for
1 your consolation. She hated me without know-
ng who and what I was—without for an in-
stant suspecting that I was the woman who had
wrecked all the ambitious hopes which she had
once formed for her son."

“ See here! I am getting tired of this sort of
thing!” and Mallory’s voice quivered with
sion as he spoke. “ How fnuch longer is this to
go oni, Do you think for one moment that I am
goin to submit all the rest of my life to this?”

“ ud what hope of esca is there for me?”
she demanded, bitterly. ” on are selﬁsh, like
all men: you think only of yourself, and you
never give a thought to my 'tiou.”

“ You promised to let me alone and not trou-
ble me, if I would agree to act likewise with

on.

“ Do on su I have water in my veins
instead of bl i” she demanded, ﬁercely. “ Do
you think I am going to submit to your ova-af-
fair with this country girl? You would be mar-
rying her next. I suppose, if I didn’t put a stop-
per on the match.”

 
001%. ‘
“ hat is beyond my power?” she asked in
beat. her manner a strange contrast to his.
“To stop me from marrying any one, if I
choose so to do.”
“ I can stop you.”
“ You cannot."

she retorted, with bitter scorn. “ Well, we will
say that you can marry—that I cannot stop
you—but, can’t I make the woman that weds
you wish
plac if I choose to i”

“ 0, you cannot—not if she is a sensible wo-
man.”

“ Well, you just

then again Nell Richmond’s shrill tor
ﬂoated out on the clear, still air of the ht.
“ How luck it is thatwe are all here, toget er!
I teal sometimes as if I ought to kill the girl for
coming between you and me—oh, don’t attempt
to deny it; I know all about it; I heard how
ya made her acquaintance in some country

wn, and you made quick work of it, too 5
didn’t you! Only one day’s acquaintance, and 3
she voyod to be yours, and gave you her pic- I!
tore—

. I
“No, you are wrong; your informant lied
this time. She never ve me her picture.” i

“ Didn’t she? Well, found it in your pocket, ,
nevertheless!” she cried, with an air of tri-
umph. “ Do you remember when on came to =
New York after that country trip I sent for 1
you and told you that I wanted some'mone : r
you brought it to me, and I saw the Icture 11
your breast- et, and when I " on
good-by, I sto o it!” Again the woman 1308 0d
shrilly, while a look of inexpreasible disgust
came over the face of the young man.

“ Oh, you would like to kill me now, wouldn’t
you?” she went on, tanntingly as she noticed
thelooku nhisface. “It llberarefun for
me. I not watch the play; ou are after

 
, this girl an she is agreeable. but . in the back-

d have killed you if she had known !
“ Yes, but she did not know, and who was to ;
Oh! it was ’

own, and wender to myself how manyo the ‘

“That is beyond your power,” he replied, 3

“ 0h. Perhaps I don’t ut it right, I'm a wo- ;
man, and all women, t ey say, are illogical l” ,

that she was in Heaven, or the other ,

mt,th we willaee.”|
“LEW are with party, then?” Mallory i

“Yes. dud so are you, and so is shel”hmd ‘

 
ground, know that form upset the whole affair

at any moment by coming forward, so I shall'

‘ let the pup ts dance on.”

“ Nell, t is has got to come to an end,” the

' young actor declared. a strange, hard look upon
is face as he bent forward and laced a hand

_, that was cold as ice in n the iir ‘s wrist. The

j cold touch sent a chill hrough er frame—ugly,

passionate vixen that she was.

< “What do you mean?” she asked, a touch of"

‘ apprehension in her voice.

‘ Exactly what I say :—this cannot go on—it
v must come to a stop. Your life is not a happy
one, is it!”

“ No, and you wrecked it.” .

“God help me! It was not all my fault l” he
. exclaimed, itterly. “You were as much to
blame as I—perhaps a little more, for you were
a woman while I was nothing but a boy.”

“ I’m no older than you are!" she retortcd,
sullenly.

“Yes, you are, full ten *ears older: it isn't
of any use for you to eny t e truth for I know
it. I was not twent v, wild and headstrong, the
slave of [iassiom an like all boys at that age I
believrd knew everything, and prided myself
upon the knowledge. You came in my way;

on did your best to fascinate me; ou tried all

he arts dear to the heart of a. wi y, beautiful
woman; you succeeded, and you know the rest.
That was a good ten years ago, and the dark
cloud that arose out of our folly now hangs
over us. I am more merciful than you; I bear
you no hatred for the ills that are  If you
should ﬁnd a good man whom on lievod you
could love, I should re ice a it, and I would
rather that my tongue ould be torn from its
roots than have it utter one single word to in-
terfere with your happiness.”

“ Oh, you are so good—you'are so generous!”
with bitter scorn. “ You wouldn’t interfere in
my happiness—oh, no! Youare like the child
who generously gives to a playmate the broken
toy for which t has no ion or an use. You
are tired of me—you would to rid
l of me—the loveyou once boro me has rned
! into indifference—into hatred perhaps, and so
i you make avirtue of that which in your heart
; you are eageridv sighing for. Bu I won’t give
; Lou up! It oesn’t matter whet er I love or
I to you: no other woman shall call you hus-
! band while I have the power to prevent it and
i I will prevent? even at the risk of life What
‘doIcare for ife! Iam tired of it, andwould
ea erly welcome death.”

‘80 I feel sometimes—so I feel now!” he
cried, abru tly. “Come, let us lock arms to-
‘ gether an jump overboard; the dark waters
. willsoon give us our quietusl”

But the woman was a coward with all her
‘ bravado; and she shrunk in horror from the

odor.
I “ Oh, who is on now?" and she trembled
*assheshrunkfromhm.

“Am I to believe for a dngle fnstAnt that
there is an truth virtue or ccuragein you?”
he reto fiercely. “ But, ﬁuyour ways;

l
i
l
l
l
l
I
l
l
|

 
and, markl crossme not or I ' have your
blood 11 my soull”

Comp etely awed the woman glided aw
actually appalled at the young actor‘s a ul
mood. '

 
CHAPTER XIV.
1'3] ILOODBOUND'.

ON the forward deck of the steamboat, in a
dark and secluded nook b the wheel-house, set
3 three men busib' engag in conversation—no
common conversation, . either a cut! , for

the seemed ap hensiveof over ard,
spo ein low an guarded tones and whenever
any one came near they stopped talkirg until

the person, whoever it was, had passed out or
ear-shot. And these thtrl'ee, whennthey came
u nthe boa a paren were rangersto
escoh other altthop h all had loun ed around
the gang-plank of he boat! until t
minute.

One was a tall rather ly man, dressed in
a good serviceable suit 0 clothes, decidedly un-
fashionable in out with gra hair and a full

very last

y may a  [Nu'tlﬂan—
gin—evidently, judge his dress, a conu-
try merchant, or farmer, 0 had been pa ing
avisittothecity. NoSwasashort,t -set

‘ man all wrapped up in a big “ulster,” which

covered him from neck to heels. He had
shagg red hair and a bristling red beard, and

" which
ve much to do
e animal. Ito. 8was a negro, a
burly, well-fled gentleman of color, en-
tire!” black with a white “choker,” green
spec

 
1

es and an umbrella, rather the worse for v

 
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ens-o o Phi-‘4":

AN AMBITIOUS GIRL.

13

 
wear, a preacher, judging by his outward ap-
arance.
peThaemwMMegeupmithmtw
ther nor even I dod: a company.
ii... shy-haired,  man had been
theﬁrst to make appearance, and had or
rived about eight o’clock—41w boat left at nine;
he had gone 0n , and, a . ntly actuated
by a sentiment of intense curiosity had one all
' over the beat from stem to stem, from e hur-
ricane deck to the lower cabin. Very few of
the passengers indeed had arrived and the man
had the boat almost to himself. After heliad
ﬁnished his examination he took up his position
amid a pile of frei t, a short distance from the
gangwa , and w ere he could have a good
view 0 everybody who went on or oil the
steamer.
The “horsey” man had been the next to
make his appearan and he had marched on
the boat a proc his ticket at once, pass-

ing close to the ﬁrst man, but no sign of recog:

nition was exchanged betwoen the two; and af-
ter he got his ticket he sat down in a chair,
twenty feet or so from the gangway and
amused himself b watching e passengeis
come on board. 0. 3 some twent minutes
later, madehis a rance, and nei r of the
ﬁrst two noticed , nor be them. He got his
ticket and sauntered out On the dock and sat
down on a barrel on the other side of thegang-
'way from where No. 1 had taken his station.
And so it was that not a passcnge'r came on
board without being closely scrutinized by all
of the three, althoulﬁh the inspection was so
Y

carefully and skillf performed that not a
soul suspected it.
The traveling troupe hadcome, all in a bunch

as it were, and had passed on the boat in little
5 of ﬁve and six; all busily engaged "1
conversation, and all fu l of talk and g ee.
‘ The minutes rapidly away; the warn-
ing bell was rung; “ All on shore l” was called
out; the passengers who were standing on the
dock hurried on board; the gang~plank was
drawn in; the boat moved slowly away from
the pier and the journey be an.

The three men mauifes a strange restless-
ness after the boat got under way; they were
almost continually on the move. Wherever a

‘ group of passengers collected one of the three
would take pains to hover near for a few mo-
ments, evidently listening to the conversation
yet exciting no suspicion.

And all the time no one of the three took the
all htest notice of the others.

ut, after this had gone on for about an hour,
and the passengers had ﬁnally settled down for
the trip, the three found their way to the shel-
tered nook which WP have spoken of and entered
into an earnmt conversation.

Not wishing to make a mystery of the mat-
ter we wiLl say at once that they were no stran-

ers to t e reader. The tall portly man was
t 0 Professor, the other two his assistants,
O’ToOle, the Irishman, and Oglethorpe, the ne-

gro.
“NO Signs of her. yet,” McDonald remarked,
expressing his disgust in his looks.
Share! she’s not on board,” O’Toole de-

lared. ’
“D838 d8 breasted trufe!" the negro admit-

“'Well, I am not
fessor demurred.

“ Fall“ “'9 didn’t see her come on board, and
She ‘5 “0t .0“ Elle boat if my two eyes are good
for. anything. the Irishman protested, stoutly.

“’Def’d. h‘mey' I on stared at ebbi-“y soul
dere is on do boat an I didn’t ﬁnd heri” Ogle-
tho asserted.

“ nd no more would she have discover us

a if she is on board and was looking for us. We
are disguised and so completely, that our own
mothers woulan know W'- Now if we disguise
ourselch so as“) CGiCh thﬁ girl isn’t it likely
she will disgmse herself so as to escape our
scrutiny?" ,

The others nodded in assent.

“There it is—there is the whole matter in a

so sure of that,” the Pro-

nutshell,” McDonald continued. “ We disguise
ourselves so as to capture her: she disguises
herself so as to esCupe “MD “5- NOW, then,

mg, Question is—are we any Cleverer than she
is

The three looked at each other, doubt plainly
expressed upon their faces. ”

I see you agree with me. the Professor
went on. “ If deeds go to prove .anythin she
is the clever-est, for in this little trial of g , go
far, she has beaten us; she has even destroyed
all clews, exce ting the extremely slight one of
her relations this actress, Miss Pearl. She
attempted to see her and appeared determined

so to don-why I haven’t the slightest idea, but
my instinct told me that she would not be con-
tent until she had interviewed this actrem, so,
since that night, we, have kept a close watch
upon Miss Pearl, but so far without the slight
est beneﬁt; when I learned of this projected
tour I made up my mind that if my guess was
ri ht, our bird would be on board this boat."

‘ But she ain’t!” ejaculated the Irishman, as-

suredly.

“Not in her. own pro r person apparentl ,
but she may be here,  There are f-
teen women in the party, and some of them
are in veils and not wearing their own hair
either. But for another reason I took this trip.
The madam’s instinct says that there is a cer-
tain place near to this town of New. Haven
where, sooner or later, our game will be sure to
come. It isa little summer cottage down on
the ‘south shore,’ or the ‘south cove ’—the
madam has forgotten which, where. a certain

arty carried our lady when they came from

urope, some years a 0. To that cottage the
madam is sure she wi come, and she wrote me
that failing any clew in New York to go to the
neighborth of the cottage and wait. So you
see in this case this trip covers both the
madam’s guess and my own. We will kee on
the heels of this troupe until we are satisﬁ she
is not in the party or following it: then we will
shadow the cottage and wait for events.”

The others shook their heads; they had no
faith that success would wait upon either one
of these theories, but they were, mere hands not
heads, and so obeyed.

Time wore on; one by one the passen rs de-
parted to their berths, until, ﬁnally, t 9 Pro-

essor  one of the Silvio brothers—one of

the to meters of the iron were left upon
the ec : The asking of a light for a cigar led
the two into conversation; and, as the Professor
was a genial gentleman, with ﬁne conversa-
tional powers, which be exerted to their utmost
in this case, having a purpose in view, he and
the “ showman ” got an quite intimate terms.

Silvio, despite is name, was an Englishman
—a man With very little education, but with
much natural shrewdness, and with an intense

considered above his own. . The Professor per-
ceiving this was quick to improve the advan-
tage. In a careless wawhe talked about his
“bank” at Richmond, Virginia, and so from
Sicaking of his Own private affairs led the
sliowman to talk of his particularly as with all
a law er’s skill he led directly up to it. He
said t at he had always bade great wish to
take an active Ipart in theatrical affairs, and
had often thong t of buying an interest in some
good troupe. . I

The showman,de. its his shrewdn jumped
at the bait and sw owed it, hook 331 all, im-
mediately.

An “ angel,” to use the cant term, with lenty
of money, to “back a show,” is what a1 am-
bitious rofessiouals hunger after. 80, with an

e to the future, the man conﬁded to the Pro-

essorthat he and his brother did not ﬁnd the
means to run the present troupe. but that the
third brother—the youn , dark, Cubanvlike fel-
low—did, and this third rother was no brother
at all, but an outsider, who didn’t want his real
name known, and so called himself one of the
De Silvios. .

“Very common thing, you know,” De Silvio
explained, “for these rich young fellows, who
come of cod families, to keep their names se~
crct, particularly when they are mixed up with
a Black Crook kind of a show.”

“ Well, how did it happen that this young fel-
low should take a fancy to be connected with
such an entertainment!” the Professor asht-

The showman laughed, then he whispered
oonﬁdeu tiall y :

“ Struck after one of the girls.”

41 Yep»,

“ Fact! He heard somewheres that the W8
going with us, and he came to me and offered
to take an interest in the trip. Of course he
didn’t say a word about being after the girl,
but he mentioned her, and said that he under-
stood she was going and that he thought she
was a ver excellent actress. I saw how the
cat junipe at once and as he talked busm
put up a couple of hundred dollars and he
plgity mpre back of it, we sold him a one-tenth
in rest.’

A_ light suddenly ﬂashed upon McDonald’s
brain: cunning as he thought himself it was
more than robable that tl woman was mOI‘e
cunning sti . He had looked for her among the
Women; but was it not possible that she had

 
outgeneraled him by assuming thedi ' of a
man? The men he had not notice particu-

ln in for the societ of men whose tati h .
egg y s one'beabletodetectitnowthathewasonhis

 
larly, neither hadhis satellites; all their atten-
tion had been directed to the female part of the
. He had noticed a slender boyish ,

align-bolting in the fa and all wrap 11
in a large ulster, but had ardly cast a seco

lance at the person, although at the time the
t on ht had occurred to him that the face was
fam‘ ‘ r. -
“And he is sweet upon Miss Pearl; eh!" he
asked, determined to push the matter to the
bottom. ‘

“ Oh, es; I felt plietty sure of it at ﬁrst, and
I notic to~ni ht t t he sat a little ways from
her 13 the ca in and fairly ate her with his
e es.

y“And, which is Miss Pearl?” The Professor
asked the uestion because he was puzzled at
the interest is prey took in the actress.

“She is the tall, handsome girl with the
blonde hair and the b ‘ ht blue eyes, who sat
with another girl, Miss ell, right at the head
of the stairs before the boat started; then they
went out onto the deck.”

“YeS' I think I noticed her.” -

“I will introduce you to the gentleman, if
you like.”

“Thank on: Ishallbe delighted.” But the
Professor idn’t intend that anythi of the
kind should occur. It was his game to cop out
of sight until he was ready to spring upon his

pie . 5
Their further conversation was of little im-
Egrtance, and soon they retired to rest. But,
fore he Sought his couch the woman-hunter
sought his two assistants and detailedtotbem

his‘sliispicions. h ” h
‘ 'eepaneyeu nt isparty! was ispart-
or it is a hundred to'one that

m injunction, “
it is our birdl’

CHAPTER XV.
THE FIRST NIGHT.

Now that he had a clew the Professor deter-
mined to pursue it diligently, so bribed the
steward With a dollar to call him in the morn-
ing before the boat got into the dock. He would
watch the disembarking passengers; if the young
man who has assumed to be one of the De Silvio
brothers was the woman in disguise he would

guard.

McDonald fell asleep with a mind at ease, but
if he had overheard a whispered conversation
between the steward and one of the passengers
which occurred right after his own interview
with that oﬁicial he would not have felt quite
so comfortable.

~Thepassen er occupied a state-room next to
the Professor 8. Through the open transom he
had overheard their conversation, and the mo-
ment the Professor shut the door the passenger
hastened to recall the steward, but took pains
to ask the negro into the state-room so that no
one could overhear what was said.

“I want to have a little joke on the'pld gen-
tleman,” the passenger explained, with‘a smile.
“ He is always boasting about getting up so
early, and rat or crowing over the rest of us;
now if you could forget to call him in the morn-
ing I will give on a couple of dollars," and
Elbe (young man ilngled the silver piecesin his

an .

The eyes of the negro ﬁled and I broad
grin came over his face; t dollars in one
night was indeed a windfall.

‘Yes, sah; ’deed I kin !”

“ You can say that you forgot to call him.”

“ Yes, ash; or I kin sw’ar dat I did call him,
and dot he told me to go ’way and luff him
slee .’ ‘

“ ust as you please ”

And the steward departed, rattling the silver
dollars gleefully in his pocket, while the passen-
ger threw himself upon his bunk.

“Olio, Professor! You ought to have t a
heard over your mouth as well as your c 'nl”
was the muttered scornful exclamation; “you
peede’d to disguise your voice as well as your
ace.

So it happened in the morning that McDonald
was not awakened before the boat was ‘made

,1 fast to the dock, but on the contrary. not until
. the passen rs had (i
The Pro?9

issmbarked.
essor was wrathy, and demanded to
know why he had not been called, but the stew-

.urd. with all innocence, disclaimed all know]-
S edge of the affair and protested that ‘it must

’ althou h McDonald

V8 been “de er col man, sahz” and

felt certain that he had goi
hold 0 the right chap, yet there was no help
for it, so, in a very angry mood, he quitted the
boat immediate to the hotel, where the
troupe proceed ; so, conﬁdent in the se.

curity 0 his disguise. he walked into the hotel

i4

 
AN AM'BITIOUS GIRL.

 
ofﬁce and registered,but no sight couldhe catch
of the y man.

After bre , est he encountered the manager,
whose ac tance he had made on the boat,
and took occasiontomenticn,in a careless wa ,
that he had not had the pleasure of seeingt
you man.

“ e is not stopping here,” De Silvio ex-

lained, “althou h his name is on the register.

0 always re all the party, and nerally
git in ﬁve or six dummy names besi es, so as

make the country , who come in to
stare at the register, think that we have ot an
immense company. That is one of the of
the trade,” he added with a laugh.

“And where a he stoppingl” McDonald

asked.

“ With some friends or relatives, I believe;
from what he sai I understood he has some
folks here who wo dn’t be eased if they knew
he had anything to do wi the show business-
so he is going to keep quiet about it until we get
to the next town.”

“ I thought I hadn’t seen him this morning.”

“ Oh, he was here and helped me to secure
the rooms, and then he went away.”

“ I was looking forward to t e pleasure of
makin his acquaintance. From what you said
about im last night m curiOsity was excited.”

“Come up tothe h , to-night; he will pro-
balb’iy be there, although  may not show up at

5‘ Alierg‘ght; 1 will be there,” and then the two

separa

A lurking icion had the Professor that
there was more an accident in this, but how
was it possible the bird could have learned of
the spies upon his track?

The day assed, but neither McDonald nor his
assistants ound the slightest trace, though they
searched high and low. Night came; the spits

ware earlfy on the ground, as were also a lur e 1 Begin, the two proceeded, and the Professor, as
e 1

crowd o

pleasure-seekers, but no young
Silvio.

The rformance passed off well, but, despite f blessing. as the elder De Silvio had remarked

the en yable nature of the entertainment, the
Professor sat, ﬁguratively s eakin , on thorns.
Had the eyeaignin sli ped hroug his ﬁngers?
Was he com , like t e Irishman renowned in
story, to be forever clutching at the bird to ﬁnd
that it wasn’t a bird at all}

The play ended, the audience dispersed, but
no young Silvio put in an appearance, so the
spies returned to the hotel. and at last, after all
t .e troupe had retired, the doctor and his satel-
li'es retreated from the ﬁeld.

As the troupe were to stay two nights in New
Haven, the Professor still hoped the iyoung man
might make his appearance: but th 5 hope was
a vain one. The next day and evening passed
and he came not. That night the Professor re-
tired, a beaten and disgusted man. His only
chance, now, we in the little, almost forgotten
seasxde cottage down by the murmuring waves
of the Sound.

A great surprise awaited him in the morning,
though. He was up betimes, as was his habit,
and was sitting in the office, reading a mom-
ilng newspaper, when the elder De Silvio came

own.

“Letter for you,” said the clerk. giving him
one, and the showman, as he tore it Open,
crossed to the window where McDonald was
sitting, and nodded to him.

“Well, blast it! If this ain’t a rum go!”
cried De Silvio, as he rused the letter, unable
to restrain his astoni ent. ,

“ Eh?” and the Professor looked up from his
newspaper as if not understanding whether
the‘ Wmlark was intended for his ears or not.

‘ e
heard! You remember our ‘angg,’ the Cuban,
that I was tellin you about! es? Well, he
has eloped with iss Pearl; here’s his letter ex-
plaining about it, but kee it dark, you know;
it won’t do to has it go out; but they have
sloped, by thunder!”

-—-—

CHAPTER XVI.‘
ranomno r'r Ur.

THE Professor was not half so astonished at
the affair as the manager'cf the tron , for the
elopement conﬁrmed his suspicions. 9 Cuban
was a woman disgmsed as a man; the girl was
the magnet which had attracted his prey after
the ups, but—and now the Professor’s able
min became confused—what bond of union
was there between the actress and this m steri-
onl woman! McDonald knew her 11 e for

years back, and in that twenty years
there no clew to connect thi-one with
the other. And now, in the name of them and

of common sense. how was it that she had in- '

duced the girl to ﬂy with her!

 
' hension. Sara Pearl would never take up with
lsuch a follow or else she ain’t the kind of a
\ girl I have always thought she was.”

i

i

! onl

sir, it beats anything that 1 ever ‘

 
!

*ﬁ

head the llowwhereshehadlas'nb
Sara’s Ede. pi y

A terrible conviction ﬂubed intently upon
the brain of the bewildered l.
begrfhd’rfi «£33303, mild“; “11th::

in eep so
Helen be stolen awaﬁ: Ii; you ’not small
the odor of the drug, gen men, still lingering
in the room 1”

They did smell it; the scent was lain: the
sickening perfume that comes from he sense-
entrancing narcotic told its own em: Stalac’ta
had been drugged—the Cuban ﬁed with
Helen Bell instead of Sara Pearl! Helen evi-
dentl had drugged her friend so that she might
be a e to escape unobserved. whet w”
the meaning of the wrong name in Cuban’s
note! Was it possible that he did not know the
difference betweenthe two?

An open sheet of note-pa r glaced conspicu-

And, wh‘lle the Professor was wrestling with
these ﬁrno‘hlems, the ma on his was
strugg with another. Sara Pear was the

particular star of the troupe, and now

tha she was gonewh‘at would he do for another
Stalacnﬂ True he had a plenty of good-look-
well-formed girls in the tro'upe, lmt not one

0 them was Sara Pearl with a metropolitan

reputation. '

‘Dash the luck l” he cried, savagely- “ the
Boston managers will never stand it I don’t
ﬁve them another Stalacta just as good as

l-but where on earth am I to ﬁnd her?”

At this moment the other brother came into
the ofﬁce, when the ﬁrst one hastened to show
him the letter, but he wouldn’t believe it.

“It’s a. hoax!” he declared; “Sara Pearl is
no such girl. I know her of old. She wouldn’t
do such a thing as to run off without giving as
notice. We have treated her well; she has no ,
cause of com t and she wouldn’t leave us in $1le liltpon "1: rblmmg’wﬁm‘ 5 atte'ig‘g
the lurchwi utamo entsw -she we" 9" 3° - Miss
:00 how for that," m m’ 1‘ «ﬁght it up and read it aloud:

The other brother looked doubtful; he hadn’t “Good;ny dear' tell the landlord to keep my
much faith in women’s honesty particularly as trunk un ' Isend for it.”
far as the capricious ladies of the stage were And that was all.
concerned. “ There yousee: it’s the same old story. She

“ Have you been up to her. room yet. to 080 has el with our angel; here is his letter, but
if she is really gone?” the younger one con— he wrote that it was you who was going,” said
tmued. the elder De Silvio.

“No- I never thought of that. When I read In amazement Sara half-read the note, not

the no written b our ‘angcl ’ I took it for noticin her own name therein.
granted tlmt'she hat gone, of course.” “19 is. some doe "1d dark 101;!” 3h; 9;.
“ Take nothing for granted!” cried the other, claimGd, full of excitement. “ is looks some-

impetuousl , “ and, as for that fellow, I never
liked the coke of him; there was something
sneaky and womanish about him, to my appre-

thiug like her handwriting, but I am sure that
it is not. I will not believe it l”

CHAPTER XVII.
a sans-meu woman.
sts Pnam. would not believe that Helen had

elo d.

‘Pft is im lei” she ke t on repeating.
“It can’t be! She would sure y have conﬁded
' in me. Why should she want to act secretly
about the matter? There wasn’t the least need
of it. I wouldn’t havo thrown any obstacles in
the way.”

hBight the De Silvio brothers only laughed at
t

“ How do you get over her letter?” asked the
elder one.

Then tip-stairs, in hot haste to Miss Pearl’s

interested as the brothers, folluvwd them.
is Pearl and Miss Bell roomed together—a

when be ascertained that the girls were not
willing but anxious so to do, for, as a rule
m travolinf troupes, every woman wants a
room to horse f; consequently there is a row at
every hotel where such a thing is almost always
an Timpossibility.b ch kn _ ed 1 d1
he younger ro er ock on y at the ,

' - - ‘I c not believe she ever wrote it; it is an

zigzag“ no one Within the room started or an imitation 211.1281. hand, but it is not her wring“;
' . “W11 tisaneas wa f ettin on o
otgefhggt’heihgxgﬁmﬁ?e’ sure enough!” the it; but:a h'ow about this otter): grog the‘ 631710-
1 “whats: new or that; Miss Ben at | sat shatters”, W” “h”
east WOU ere. u P 11))  :1 claimed ‘11 amaze.
“ Perha she has gone with her” the other Mfg? ear ' e 3“ ex ’

lug Listed?“ they were thick as sisters.” memo ‘ Whybwhat on earth do“ be m““ by

“ o, there’s a he in the lock. inside. and the I saying Miss ear” I never even he to the

door is fastened,” t e other responded. trYing ‘ $313, I don’t believe I would know if haw

the handle, and then he begana ferocious at~ “'A . of -
mistake mad 1 the h Wntin I
“3.1"?” the d°°r‘ suppose or this youeng1 lady him“ deceiél’lg
0 noise this time succeeded in arousin hi for’ o and has made him be.
some one within the room: foots were hea l u else thats 1:}: 331201231,“an
comi to the d00r, the key was ed in the I “But Wh’ on should she do such a
lock, t e door slightly opened, and the face of , th. T,’ kg; Sue: thureople don’t do such
Sara Pearl appeared, but looking so dull and ' “1:235 wﬁhout mum”
heavy that it could scarcely be recognized She 1 u nd now I think of it,” chimed in the elder
seemed like one laboring under the inﬂuence of ‘ De éuvio ,, when he proposed to take an inwﬁ
a narcoticilfor her'eyes were dull and heavy, i est in the, show he was very anxious that Miss
andilliter wholte mung latices agdtfefbleér, h . Pea“ should be ’en .”
H ’ “5 a 3 ° “‘8 "7w 3 3 ° ° “ Y t’ very any that brother
SaladdeMdemy mt remains the bmthers shou‘l‘denatct1 880 Strangely i” Sara ygblslervcd, in
“There, you see!” said the younger brother, wonder' h men la bed
winkingto the elder: “on, it’s all r: ht Miss The W“ ° “8 - '
Pearl; we only came to wake you ups, that is “He was no bI‘Other of ours,” the younger

x lained. “ That was ' t to k
all. We feared you would oversleep yourself.” . onepfe gram ﬁnding out his I, (31:13”: "15:3 Howegg

“ You are very kind. Oh, is it you, Mr. De ‘ poo ow what has bee . k

Silbio’l” she‘ asked, suddenly recognizing the ﬁgwgn these two? n gmgnondgzgevzlggs

"1",; ' g d?!“ know What has 0t into . trust ell-Ch Other. This fellow has evidently ot-

me s morn ng. I feel assick as deat —I can plan? of money. and it is a big thing for e
f I

hardly stand u and myézead aches so terribly; g .
t “ But, why didn’t she stay in New York then?

 
I dict? know w at can th; matter."th nd a
e managers expressed t eir sympa y, a a -
one of them suggested that she had better call  Eiggﬁlrih: gigs;  Sgﬁh‘ﬂnggﬁhm trip for’
:Iisg Bell, for possibly she could do something th“ Oh, you must ask me some easier uestion,”
or er. 6 man, an v ' his s ould .
“Yes I will,” she said, languidly. and “‘9 “Perhaps he 8&33‘33'033: to me in the rierlgt
turned cm the door. The next moment those 3 way_perha S he wasn’t willing to do what 9
without were startled by a cry of amazement lady wante ; she may have demanded certain
from Saraslipsaand she ﬁung open the door. , things, a settlement of so much money upon

widely; she ha slipped on a loose moming- ‘ her or—”
wrap rw she had been called; 50th“ '1“; i “’For shame I” the actress cried, indignantly.
was t to be seen, though her glorious 1118880 1 “Helen Ben was no such ' hand “momma”
beautiful blonde hair was all hanEmS down . was a very good reason w y she would not have
looselafvgoldieir shhoiulderési' in she cried run awn with this fellow. ’
sesno ere - H "askdth
An the three u the threshold, pm  gem? e e elder brother. his

nearer looked into e roo

m. , .
A. s e had said—Helen Bell was not there! , 3"“ M“ in“ '1” had said too much. her

ason, too, was but a suspicion, although,

The only trace of her was the impress of her 1 womamuke, she was certain that it was cor”
: rect.

 
’. “‘0'; 

AN AMBITIOUS GIRL.

‘15

 
“It doesn’t matter; I know,” she replied,
evasive] .

“ Well: we’ll have to put one of the other girls
in for her part, and you had better get dressed.
We leave at ten-thirty, you know."

“But, ain’t you goin to do anything about
this matter!” demand Miss Pearl, in amare-
ment.

“ Do anything about it—how?” asked the elder
De Svi‘lvio.

“ dhy, pntlthe police on the track! I have

n
“ Well, shouldn’t be rised if on are
right, but I youcan th your friend for
that; she tried a little chloroform on you so
that she could get away without trouble: per-
haps she had an idea that you might object. ’

And closingPthe door, the two walked off, fol-
lowed by the rofessor, who now believed that
he held the claws to this mystery.

“ Oh I’m onl a woman, and I don’t know
what am about, of course!” cried
Sam, onately. “ That poor child has been
abdu, by somebody. She has always been
so uiet about her past life that I had usua-
pic on there might be somethin mysterious
about it. 1’“ dress and then 00 t the chief of
police, at once.”

And the girl was as good as herword; she
hurried on her thin and without a word to
anybody hurried ou . She proceeded directly
to the principal street and accosting the ﬁrst

liceman she saw was directed to the oﬁice of

be chief of the police, and in ﬁve minutes more
wasin the oﬁice. The ofﬁcial was a pleasant-
mannered gentleman, and knowing the ac-
tress, having witnessed the performance on the
previous evening, at once asked how he could
oblige her. .

Sara. gave a history of the whole affair; the
chief looked grave asked a few questions, and
then shook his he .

The girl’s heart sunk within her. By his face
she guessed that he did not see any way to act
in the matter.

“Whatis to be done!" she asked, almost in
despair as she concluded.

“We 1, really, miss, I don’t exactly see: of
course there are some suspicious circumstances

.about the aﬂair;” in his own mind he didn’t

think there were. He had not the best pomible
opinion of actresses, particularly those who
traveled With entertainments of the Black Crook
order, and as he believed the managers of such
shows knew a great deal more about their ac-
tresses than he POS§lbly could know, if they
were convinced that it was an elopement. pure
and simple, and nothing 0139, Why, the chances
were great they were correct in their suppo-
sition.

“ Yes, yes,” Sara cried, 06861137, “ IInd do you
not think if you put your detectives upon the
case the mightbe ab e to ﬁnd out the “W
trator o¥ this outrage for I am sure it is not an
elo eat but an abduction. She was drug
—- was drugged, and then she was ta en
away!” .

Now this view of the matter was entirely 900
much for the oﬁicial. To his acute mind it
seemed like a leaf torn out of one of the “ blood
and thunder” novels, for the average man be‘
lieves ﬁction always truth. blind
to the fact that police and law courts daily re-
veal ﬁllmpses of tragedies, far excelling in won-
derfu strangeness all the tales that human
mind can invent. Truth is stran er than ﬁction
despite the current belief that it is not. And
than, “30, his "3130? talked about his detectives
as if he was the 1301100 chief of the metropolis
with a small army 0’ Spies at his beck and call.
80 a n he shook his head but in order to
smooth the matter over said, blandly:

“ I don’t r9511? '98 how 1 cu: interfere in the
case. You 896,111‘88. a(wording to your state-
ment there is nothing for us to work on—I
mean, omciauy. but privately. to obl'

you
I will put one of our best men. on qnie ’ and
see what he can do. if he 3am, myi o -

tion I will let you know.” .

The actress thanked the chief, although in her
heart she did not believe the eearchwould be
productive of any good results. it did not re-
quire the skill of a prophet to see that the official
believed it was an elopement and not an abduc-

tion.
The chief inquired in regard to where the;
pa

tron would be durin the next week
dowiie the towns and the dates, and then politely
bowed the lady out.

“ And 110'. Whaton earth shall I do?” mut-
tered BUB as she walked slowly back to the
hotel. “ I can’t interest the chief in my
Rory who can I interest?” Then. suddenly,

e thought of Gordon Mallory! There was a

 
love affair between the y actor. and the
missin girl, she was sure, alt ough both con-
cealedﬁt well. But Sara had a woman’s eye in
matters of this kind, and was conﬁdent she was
not mistaken. And this, if for no other reason,
was wh Helen had not sloped. She felt sure
mm W at she had known of the country girl
that money would have no weight With her at all
where matters of the heart were concerned. If
any one would take an interest in the matter
Gordon Mallory was the man, and so, when she
arrived at the hotel she at once asked for the

oun actor.
y She“ found him, and he was already in
sion of the full details but when she ask what
he was go' to do about it, he simply replied
by asking w at he could do?

This question was a diﬁicult one to answer,
and Sara was obliged to confess that she really
didn’t know, but she thought that something
on hilto befiillneagreed 'th be h t h
a o y w1 r. u . as e
said, head not see any way in which he could
do anything. .

Sara we t—tears born of rage, commmgled
with vexa on and pity. .

“ Oh, if I was on y a man!” she cried, as the
train moved out of the New Haven depOt: but,
what she would have done if she had been of
the masculine gender she neglected to state.

CHAPTER XVIII.
HOW IT was Dona.

Ir was about three o’clock in the mom ,
the hour when sleep is dee : The Black Croo
troupe reposed dream] y, tired out after their
night’s exertions. Only one person was astir—
and he moved, like a specter silently through
the halls, as if anxious not to disturb the sleep
era. The look upon his face, the features of
which were dimly visible by the misty light
of the down-turned gas, revealed murderous
thoughts if ever a face did. There were two
staircases in the hotel, the main one used by the
guests and a small rear one leading to the back

ard for the convenience of the servants of the

ouse.

Down this back way the ﬁgure stole. The
staircase ended in a broad entry, at the end of
which was a door leading into the yard in the
rear of the hotel. To unlock and unbolt the
door was but a moment’s work.

Through the door the man glided, then from
the yard into the street. A short distance up
the street a doctor resided. Quite a large gar-
den surrounded his residence, and at its rear
was the physician’s stable.

Openin the carriage gate the nighirprowler
procecde directly to the stable. The door,
secured by a common padlock, was easil
opened by one of a large bunch of keys Wit
which the silent visitor was provided. Soon
the doctor’s nu , a sober gray beast, was care-
fully led from ts stall to be deftl harnessed,
and then attached to the buggy. his accom-
plished, the horse was led through the yard into

he street and then around into the hotel yard,
halting it at the back door. .
Then again into the hotel the slight ﬁgure
passed, to steal softly up the stairs and halt at
he door of the room occupied by the two girls.
There he listened attentively. The breathing
of ‘thgd sleepers within could plainly be distin-
guiSi .
. The transom over the door was quite large
enough to admit the bod of the n' ht—prowler.
Mounting u on the lam of the car he was
quickly insid' e the room, and with steps as noise-
less as the footfalls of a cat, he stole to the bed
wherein the two girls slept side b side.

From his pocket he drew a via and a couple
of sponges, and a strogfgggungent odor stole out
upon the air as he po some of the liquid of
the vial upon the sponges. first taking the pre-
caution, however, to unlock the door. evidently
with the idea of being able to esca ie without
detection in case the girl should nppen to
wake while he was applying the narcotic.

Then the sponges were held close to the nos.
trils of the sleepers. . I .

Bound as they were in slumber’s chain it was
impossible for them to resist, and, although
sleeping nature struggled for a few moments
against the outrage, the subtle power of the drug
prevailed, and soon both of them relapsed into

sensibility.

The dark water-proof cloak of Miss Bell lay
upon a chair near at hand: this the intruder
Wrapped around the form of the sleeping girl;
then With dextrous hands‘he gathered the Wear~
Ins apparel upon the sofa and rolled it up into a
bun e, not even neglecting to put in the stock-

ings and shoes
en and ink and a few sheets of paper were

 
gpon the table, where the had been left by
iss Pearl, after writing a friend in New
York, the evening before.

Evidently the visitor had calculated upon
everything, for without a moment’s hesitation
he sat down to the table and hurriedly nned
afflbrlgf note, gob the Siltvitohzrottlliers ad so

y accep as roo t t e 1 had

elo with their “ p .” gt
is task comple , then with a strength
that none would have believed dwelt within the
slenderuform of th: striplf' , the intruder!-

s 0 sense arm 0 drugged
0% shoulder, took up the bund e inﬁs
hand and made his way from the house into the
yard. Depositing the undle on the ﬂoor of the
uggy he propped the girl u in the seat, so
that she looked as if she was' eeping; then he
returned to the hotel, ascended “tag-sin to the
room whose privac he had viola , locked the
door upon the insi e, and, ' e as a cat, ained
the entry again by way of t e transom. ever
had an enterprise been more skillfully or suc-

cessqu carried out.

But, ike all cunning people, the intruder did
too much. If the gir ad tied with a lover in
the night, as he intended eve one should be-
lieve, she could not possibly ve locked the
door from the inside, and, woman though she
was, Miss Pearl had not neglected to notice and
mention this fact which a shrewd and skillful
detective would have seized upon as a sure
proof that no elo ment but a cunning— lanned
abduction had ta en place but the girl s asser-
tions were not believed. Every one thought she
was mistaken, and that the door was unlocked,

but, in her Itatiou and bewilderment, that
she herself h relocked it when she had been
summoned.

Taking his place in the buggy beside his un-
conscious victim, the pe trator of this re-
markable outrage drove o .

Between the ours of three and four in the
morning there is very little life in the streets of
a quiet, provincial City. It was quite dark and
the carriage passed out of the town without at-
tracting any notice whatever.

The moment he was without the city limits,
the driver applied the whip, furiously. and after
a sharp drive of about three-quarters of an
hour halted in front of a little cottage, only a
short distance from the waters of Long Island
Sound, much to the relief of the doctor’s nag,
who was not at all used to such rapid work, for
its owner, though a medical man, and often in a
hurry, was one of the most careful of drivers.

The cottage was situated in an isolated posi-
tion, not another house being within sight. It
was all Overgrown with creep' vines, and the
little garden in front resembi a jungle in its
wildness for bushes and briers, and young pine
trees had sprung up and were all struggling for
the mastery. Nature, protesting against the
encroachment of civilization, had almost won
her Own again, and had about destroyed all
vestiges of the once trim little garden.

The blinds of the house were tightly closed.
The spiders had festooned the porch and door-
way with their ﬁlmy snares, and all a pear-
ances, around and about the place, told o deso-
lation anddecay.

The abductor halted the carriage in the middle
of the road. and then assuming the weight of
the girl upon his shoulder, passed around the
house, through the o n ground which sur-.
rounded it, and cute the rear yard, thro h
a gap in the fence, to make his way into t 9
house through the back-door, which was un~
locked.

The house was completely furnished; every-
thing was in its place, and in order; but there
was that almost indescribable must smell about
thelplace, inseparable from un houses, par-
tic arly those completely furnished.

As said, the blinds were all closed, thus shut-
ting out the blessed 1' ht of the sun, so the in-
terior was plunged in tian darkness. But,
that did not seem to me. c any difference with
the bearer of the helpless girl. With conﬁdent
steps he ascended to the second story and en-
tered one of the back rooms a sleeping a 11:-
ment, which was ﬁtted up in luxurious sty ; it
was a woman’s boudoir, evidently, for a hun-
dred little knick-knacks were scattered around
it. and the cut-glass 0010 6 bottles were even
stﬂl on thedressing—stan .

Upon the luxurious bed, all completely made
up, seemin to invite repose, the abductor de-
posited his ovely burden; then he returned to
the carri and brought in the bimdle: and,
locking the doors secure! behind him, the
mysterious abductor retu to the buggy, got
in and drove back to the city.

An hour later horse and buggy were in the
doctor’s stable. The deed was no.

 
{’3‘

 
.s NR»..*—: 0.--”... 7—1 ~

16

AN AMBITIOUS GIRL

 
CHAPTER XIX.
a s'rnANol: sroar.

As the potent fumes of the chloroform at
length spent their power the abducted girl
awoke to aknowled e of her position.

Slowly and feeblé she opened her eyes, for
the dose which had een administered wasa ter-
rible one, almost enough to conquer life itself,
anl it was only by a violent struggle that
nature won the victory.

In astonishment the girl looked around her;
thou h half-stu fled she could not help at once
notic ng the di eren'ce between the plainly-fur-
nished room which she had occupied at the hotel
in common with Sara Pearl and he elegantly
fitted-up sleeping apartment in w ich she now
re osed.

rue, the lﬁedculiar must , sickening smell, .

which remin oneso we of acharnel-house,
was lainly perceptib e, despite the fact that
pasti es had been burnt until their aromatic
perfume him in cloudlike rings of blue smoke
in the air, am a cheerful ﬁre burnt in the open
grate stove which sat in the ﬂre- lace.

“ What did it mean?” the girl asked. By
what magic had the faded car t, the old hair-
cloth chairs, the dingy :win ow curtains, and
the general forlorn look of the hotel sleeping
a artment been changed for Brussels ca t,
81 k-covered chairs, a bed ﬁt for a queen am an
air of luxui that would not have been amiss in
an em eror s palace?

At rst the girl could hardly believe that she
was awake; it seemed so like the fantasy of a
dream. ,

She was not alone: a female sat by the win-
dow, nestled in the embraces of an elaborately-
cushioned rockingchair; a book was in her
hands, but her eyes were not upon the printed
page but wandering restlessly out upon the fair
view of the swelling waters of the Sound that
the window commanded.

Naturally at the ﬁrst glance, the actress took
the form to be that of Sara Pearl her room-
mate, although how she and Sara had come into
this splendid apartment was a mystery, but, as
she moved uneasily in the bed to getabctter
view of her surroundings, the other rose and at
once advanced to the side of the couch.

Then Helen saw that it was not Sara bilt a
stranger—a tall, stately woman, dressed com-
pletelyin black, with a really beautiful face
although it bore evident marks of care an
anxiety: but one strange thing about the we-
man was 'the fact that her hair, which was a
rich golden uyellow in color, was cut of! quite
short, cut f i
Worn.

“Are you better, dear?” the woman asked,
kindly, standing by the bedside and gazing
down u n the girl with a very strange, pecu-
liar loo upon her face.

And then, as Helen looked up into the face of
the woman an odd idea came into her mind.
The woman was a stranger; she knew that she
never had seen her before, and yet it seemed as
if she had.

A conﬂict was going on i her mind. Reason
said, “ You have never n this face before!”
Fancy re )lied, “Oh, yes. I have, often 2”

The  closed her eyes for a moment; it was
as if s e was wrestling with the influence of a
horrid dream; never before had she experi-
enced such a strange feeling. Of course the iii—
ﬂuence of the drug still clung to her, although
she was ignorant of the strange events which
had occurred.

“What is the matter? Where am I?” Helen
demanded, sitting upright in the bed. i

“ You have received a severe shock dear, and
you have been ill for uite a time. You rose in
your sleep in the hote in New Haven and wan-
dered out into the hall, and then, in the dark-
ness, you fell down the stairway; My room—I
hap mixed to be stoEping at the otel hat night
on t e way to my ome here—was ri ht at the
foot of the stairs and your fall awe e me. I
rushed out to find you insensible in the hall.
The doctor who was called said that you were
threatened with brain-fever—as you had re-
ceived the whole shock upon your head—so
when I found that you were a member of the
troupe and that you would be left behind until

~ you get well, I concluded not to trust you to
the mercies of the hotel folks but had you
brought down here to my country-house, where
I con d nurse you into health again.” '

“Oh, you are Very kind, madam!” the girl

exclaimed, gratefully, never for a single in-
stant doubting the truth of the story.

 not attempt to sit up toolon ” the lady
la .
so that he 'rl coul re
ably in a hal -rec

ng herself b arranging he pillows
more comfort-
lining po tion.

y as short as a boy’s is usually ;

“How long have I men here!"

“ Three days.”

“ And I have not been sensible all that time?”

“ No, dear.”

“How strange it is,” the girl murmured,
,thoughtfull , “for it seems as if it was only
llast ni ht t at I retired to rest.”

‘ “W en the brain is disordered we do not
take account of time.”

“Very true.”

I. Never was there an impOsture more com-
gets: not a single doubt did the girl have.
i er head ached from the effects of the drug,
and naturally she felt faint and ill.

“You are very kind,” she continued, slowly.
” I fear that I never shall be able to repay you
i for this goodness to a stranger."

“ Not exactly a stranger, my dear,” replied
the other, with a pleasant smile and then she
moved the rocking-chair over and sat down by
stho bedside.

I Helen looked at her for a moment in a puz-
zled sort of way.

“ N ot exact y a stranger,” the other re-
peated.

“Your face does seem familiar to me, and
yet the remembrance is more like the fantasy
of a1 dream than anything else,” the girl re-
marked, thoroughly puzzled.

“I knew your family in En land a great
many years—more ears thangl should care
to own to, for to 0 so would be to make
myself out quite an old woman,” and the
speaker smiled; but to the girl, despite the

easant face of the woman, there was some-
hing odd and uncanny about the smile, and a
restless s )irit— perhaps, and rhaps evil
—seeme to be urking in the dept s of the full
blue eyes.

As he fumes of the drug were more com-
pletely neutralized the mind of the girl began
to work with its accustomed clearneros.

The statement of the lady seemed to her won-
lderf‘ul, for, how on earth was it ossible that
éany one—a stranger, too—could know any-
'thing about her or her family? But the pre-
sumption came at once to her mind that the
lady was laboring under a mistake, misled by
her false stage name—a doubt which the other
Seemed to fathom.

“You question the correctness of my state-
ment,” she observed, the same peculiar smie
upon her face which had so unpleasantly af-
fected the young girl before.

“ I think you must have made some mistake,
madam,” Helen admitted.

“Oh, no; I reco iaed you by your resem-
, blance to your family. I was not deceived b

your stage name. Although I know very litt e
,’of the theatrical life yet I am aware that a
1great many of the pin er-poople assume false
lnames; of course there no articular harm in
1it. Those brave enou h to are the glare of a
I public life can hardly blamed for wishing to
in part hide themselves behind a mask. I know
what your true name is: “5 ls 8 good old English
family appellation, and although not as pretty
, perhaps as your fanCiful stage name. yet to my
,mind is far better. I recogni-ned you the in-
;stant you appeared on the stage as Miss Sara
‘ Pearl. ’

1 “Sara Pearl 1” the girl exclaimed, in amaze-

;‘ment' "why, that is not my name. I am not

- sum, earl; my name is Helen Bell!"

l The lady contracted the pupils of her eyes in
a very uliar way for a moment, and then she

-lau h outright.

i “ ell, that is a blmder: but, Sara Pearl or

 
Helen Bell, you cannot deny that your ri t I

‘ name is neither the one nor the other, but Ha h
Kunibell."

 
CHAPTER XX,
A BIT OF FAMILY Hxs‘rony,

Hm true name coming from the li
stran e lady astounded the girl. An
musth speaking the truth when she
that she was acquainted with her family.

“You are Wll ing to acknowledge t on that
your name is Halah Kunibelli” the woman r0-
marked, after a pause.

“Oh year Why should I deny
not as am of the life that 1 have chosen,
although by advice of one who was well ac-
quainted with the stage I assumed another
name.

The lady, althou h her eyes were ﬁxed 11 n
the face of the girl, was evidently paying ut
little attention to what she was saying.

“ I know your sister, once— our sister Hada;
where is she! Is she living! t has become
of her?” she cried, abruptly, her naturally sweet
voice suddenly becoming harsh and mechanical.

“ My sister Hilda!” the actress cried. in

of the
too, she
ad said

 
it? I ami

amazement. “Why, 1 never had a sister by
that name !”

“No sister Hada?” and the lady bent her
brows and almost scowled at the girl: so fierce
was the expression 11 her face, and so wild
the look, that a Bligh sentiment of fear crept
over Helen.

“ No, not to my knowledge.”

“How strange that they should deceive on
and keep all knowledge of the unfortunate ada
from you!” the woman muttered, her tone
angry and her mind evidently full of bitter
thoughts.

“ id I really have a sister named Hadal”
asked the girl, her curiosity excited.

“ Yes, a sister about twenty years older than
you are, I should judge; you are about twenty,
are you not!" -

it Yes.”

“ And where are your father and mother!”

“ Both dead,” replied Helen, ‘

“Judge. not, lost ye be judged!” exclaimed
the lady, in a strange, mechanical sort of way.
“ They Judged—Judged harshly, not wisely; and
now—well, the great book of m steries is open
to them and they can tell whet or they jud red
well or i 1. But, how came you to come to t is
country? Surely it was a long journey for a
young girl all alone-that is, if on came alone.”

“ I came with my father an mother when I
was a child.”

“ What!” cried the woman, with startling
earnestness, “did Sabban Kunibell and his wife
collie to “America?”

“And they died here?”
6‘ Yes.”

“How long ago was it when they came, and
when did they die?”

“They came when I was a child seventeen
or eighteen years ago: mother died ﬁrst, and
father only a few months ago.”

“That accounts for it,” the lady muttered, in
her strange wa . “Hada was your father‘s
daughter, but 5 e displeased him and they

ted,” she continue addressnig herself dl-
rectly to the girl. “ here was had blood be-
tween them; not all Hada’s fault, either, for
though she was wild and willful and loved her
own way, yet she was good at heart and dearly
loved her parents. She came to this country,
and when years on her heart softened to
the parents with whom she had quarreled, and
she wrote to them. The letters were never an-
swered, I presume because they were never re-
ceived, for the father, by your statement, was
in America at the time: but evidently it mat-
tered not, for since Sabban Kunibell suffered
you to grow up in ignorance of our older sister
the an ry feeling which he be for his willful
child id not die out with the lapse of Years.
The quarrel between the father and daughter
was a bitter one. She had chosen acertam path
in life and was determined to walk in it; he, on
the contrary, was determined that she should
no and with bitter em he told her that
if 5 e persisted in her eterminatlon. from the
time she quitted his house she would cease to be
his daughter, and that 88 10118 88 be lived he
would never acknowledge her as a child. The
daughter fullyasproud, 35 haqsht and asstnb—
bornas the father, answered bun n kind. She
had chosen her way aggcge “Elléd walk in it,
regardless o  n she was as

as her word. I“ When years passed, and
be hot blood of youth became cooled by age
and ex onceCi hotter feelings prevailed, and
the disc lent aushter. re ntantof her folly,
would have M01119 reconc ed to her parents,
‘ but {ago had Willed it otherwise.”
The woman bent. down her head and fell into
a ﬁt of musinlz. while the young actress watched
with wondering eyes. Strange thoughts were
in her mind. Who was this woman, who, seem-
inglyv W" 80 Well acquainted with her family
* histo 7 and was it reall true that she had had
an el or sister. Hilda? 9 name was an odd
Biblical one like her own, Her father had a.
strung: fancy for such names, too. is name
“’93 bbﬂn. her mother’s Rachel; 60 Biblical
I names seemed to run in the family.

l‘here seemed to be truth in her “Dry, for she
had described her father’s character exactly;
<, E‘lthough one of the kindest of men yet he was
] implacany stubborn when his mind was made
, “P' and now as she recalled events there came

to her recollection stmn80 Welles which had
1 escaped from her mother at tunes—speeches
l which had uzzled her since,‘for she could not
i compreheng what t meant: but now that
; she had gained- Imow edge of the existence of
1 an elder my, it was evident the speeches re-
? ferred to her. The heart of the mother sor~
rowed for her first born and refused to be calm

l

 
I

AN AMBITIOUS GIRL.

17

 
forted. Other strange thoughts too, were in
the girl’s mind. If this stranger knew so much
about her family was it not likel that she
might know the reason wh her fa er had so
carefully secluded himself rom all the world?
The oung actress hesitated to put the ques-
tion; s e shrunk from revealing, even to this

well-informed stranger that there was a mys-
tery in her family w ich bafﬂed her eﬂorts to
penetrate.

Second thoughts told her, too, that, if the
lady did not know that her father had come to
America it would ‘not be likely she would
know anything about the causes which led him
to take the step, for the girl was sure that the
mystery which surrounded her parents’ life had
its rise in England and not in this country.

One uestion, thou h she burned to ask, and
she too ' advantage 0 her companion’s waking
from her roverie to to ound it.

“Is my sister Ha a ive?” she asked, slowly
and with a timid air. It was the most natural
question in the world under the circumstances,
and yet, there was a subtle instinct in the girl’s
nature which warned her that the question
would not be a pleasant one.

“ Alive 9" cried the woman, in a loud voice, a
baleful light shining in her eyes; “no, no! She
could not live! She died long years ago and
that is what has wrecked all my life. it than
Kunibell had lived I would be a far different
woman to-day from what I now am; but, I do
not blame you, girl, although you are of her
race,” she hastened to add, )erceiving a look of
apprehensive wonder upon elen’s face. “ You
knew nothing about it: vou had not made your
appearance in this world then. Oh, girl, girl!
i you only knew the misery that your sister
caused me! It is enough to make a statue
was tears of blood—rich, warm, red blood!”

e face of the woman became convulsed,
and she wrung her hands together as if torn by
fearful agony.

Helen was really alarmed for it seemed as if
she was about to go into hysterics.

But, to the seene came a sudden interrup—

' tion.

The door opened quickly without the slight-
est warning, disclosing t ree men, who im-
mediately advanced into the room. The wo—
‘iiian sprung to her feet and cast a rapid glance
at the window, as if she nieditated an escape,
but the foremost intruder held up his ﬁnger,
warningly.

“Do not try that, madam!” he exclaimed;
“ it is useless.” .

For mement the woman (glared deﬁantly into
his face, but the ﬁrm an steady look of his

' e es seemed to quell her rebellious spirit, for

3 WI she dro ) )d her gaze to the ﬂoor.

9‘ at is thymeanin of this? Why have
you brought this young dy here?” he asked,
after the victory was won, and be cast an in-
quisitive glance at the young girl.

The reader has probably suspected who the
three men were. Like loodhounds on the
scent the Professor and his followers had tracked
the prey; but like the h1mter,_wh0, knowing
the den of the fox, hies straightway there
without troubling himself to follow the animal
thro b all his devious windings after the
chase gins, so the Professor, satwiied that his

9 would seek the secluded cotta 0, came
there and surprised the inmates as we ave de—

scri . ,

“One of m whims, that is all,” the woman
replied, sullen y.

‘AX‘O yo“ “alth with this lady?" he
asked addressing the actress.

“ 0, 811‘ i I “ever saw her until this morn—
ing,” Helen answered, Wondering what it all

eant.
“ “Yen, oupav." sustained no harm, so there
\ isn’t muc mischief done. 1 will send a car.
riage for you to take you to the depOt. The
trou have gone 9D, *0 Meriden, and as there
has en no real inqu done I trust you Wm
not mention the aﬂair any more than you can

he! .9;

ud then the three men and the lady de-
parted. leaving the young actress a prey to the
greatest wonderment.

—-—-—

CHAPTER XXI.
rm: RELEASE.

IN vain did Helen rack her brains for some
solution Of this strange affair; none came; and
When the carriage arrived to take her away,
some two hours later, exactly as .the stranger
had said, She was still com letely 1n the dark,

She had dresseth base]  vgaso 51:21:} :3

windoww nt ve'ce r , -
giggly awaitl'nﬁ its arrival. She had been al-

 
most afraid to attempt to get up, her head felt
so strange] , and she was apprehensive that
her strengt would fail her, but to her aston—
ishment, upon getting up, she found that, in—
stead of being weak, she was fully as strong as
ever. This was a source of great amazement
to her, for, of course she fully believed the
story in regard to her illness.

The carriage sent was a bug drawn by a
sin 1e horse, and driven b the rishman.

Tghe actress recognized t e man immediately
as being one of the three who had departed only
a little while before with the lady who had
talked and acted so in steriousiy.a

“ From this person shall pro bly be able to
ﬁnd out what all this means,” she murmured,
as she descended the stairs. And, as she made
her way from the house, it occurred to her that
it was very singular she did not encounter any
one' the house seemed deserted.

“ :Ium in, miss!” the Irishman exclaimed, as
she. ma e her ap arance at the open door.
“Jump in, andI llwhave yees to the depot in
mi hty quick time.”

he 'rl obeyed the injunction' the driver ap-
plied t e whip, and 01! went the horse at a brisk
trot.

Helen was amazed when she looked around
her and saw that she was in the country. She
had no idea, of course, that she had been car-
ried from the city.

“ How sick I must have been ” she remarked,
“to have been carried all this distance, and yet
not to know anything about it.”

T111? driver pursed up his lips, but did not
s ea .

pThe actress looked at him for a moment; she

was meditating how to frame the questions which
she intended to put, but the Irishman was not
deﬁcient in shrewdness, and, b the expression
upon the girl’s face, he guess what was pass-
ing in her mind.

“ You mustn’t ask nae any questions, miss, if

on pl’ase,” he hastened to say, thus anticipat-
ing the girl’s purpose. “It 18 my business to
dhrive yees to the depdt, but not to answer any
questions. The gintleirnan what hires me tould
me to be afther kaping a still tongue in me
head. and as he remarked, miss, ‘ least said the
soonest mended.’ \If yees do be afther wantin
to talk about the country, or the illigan
weather, or this beautiful baste of a horse, I’m
your man, but no questions, do e mind!” and
the speaker, as he ﬁnished, shoo his head as
much as to indicate that he was granite itself as
far as this resolution was concerned.

“ There is On] one question that I am anxious
to ask,” the gir replied.

“ Bedad! perhaps that wan may be as bad as
ten 3"

“ I am sure it cannot displease or give offense
to any one, if you answer it.” ' "

“ Faix! whether that is to be so or not I kin
tell better when I hear the question.”

“ Undoubtedly; but it is a ver simple one,
and you need not answer it if you 0 not choose,
or if you think by answering you will displease
your employer.”

“ That is fair enough, anyhow; so ﬁre away
wid it!”

“ What day of the week is this?”

The Irishman looked at his companion in per—
fect astonishment.

“Oh, come, now, miss; it’s making game of
me, 'e are 2”

“ ndeed, I am not; I am in sober earnest,”
the girl protested.

“ nd don’t ye know?”

“ No, sir. I do not I"

“ W11 , it's Wednesda .”

“ We nesday!” the actress cried, in arnaze-
ment; “and have I been sick and out of my
head for a whole week?”

" What in the name of goodness are you talk-
ing about? Shure! I saw you play on the stage
in the Black Crook last night.’ _

“Last night !” Helen was amazed. “Why,
that lady said I had been sick and out of my
mind for some time.”

The Irishman indulged in a low whistle,

which was clearly indicative of great astonish—-

ment.

“ Oh, the horn divil!” he muttered, under his
breath. .

“ Then she deceived me, and I have not been
ill long, and it was last night that I played at
the New Haven Opera House?” ,

“ Yis; I was there meself.”

“ But why was this deceit practiced upon
me?” demanded Helen, in amazement not un-
mixed with indignation.

“Aha, miss new you come to the questions
you see, and I gave you warningi fair and aisy,

that I couldn’t answer. But if can’t answer

 
the questions I can ‘vigou a bit of advice, and
ifyeare the sins’bel ythatlthink e are,
yeesmay be afther taking it!” the driver re-
marked, iggimssively. ‘ Don’t say a word
about this airto anybody. Take the advice
of the ould gntleman, my master, and l’ave the
matter drop jist where t is; it will do ye no

to be curious, and maybe it may bring

i to some wan else.”

“But, all this is very mysterious and I do
not understand it atalll the girl could not help
exclaiming.

“True for yees, miss! Shure! there’s a hape
of queer things in this world, but the best way
to get along quiet and aisy is never to mind
them the Past bit, at all, at all.”

_The more the yaing actress pondered the
more dpuzzled she became, but knowing that she
won] not gdt an more explanation from her
companion she be d her peace.

It did not take long to reach the depOt, and
gas it happened the Meriden train was in wait-
n .
EThere’s your train new, miss,” exclaimed
the driver, after they had alighted from the
carriage; “you had better him right on
board, miss, for it will be 0! in a minute. I
have the ticket for yees.”

And so, almost before she knew it she found
herself seated in the ear. The bel rung, the
conductor’s “All aboard!” was shmited. and
then the Irishman placed a sealed enVeiope in
the 'rl’s hand.

“ our ticket’s inside, miss: good-by, ma’am !”
and he hurried from the car, jumping off just
as the train moved (swag,

Decidedly bewildere by all these strange
circumstances our country gil opened the en-
velope, which was ad to Miss Helen
Bell. As the man had said, there was a rail-
road ticket inside, and with tine ticket there
was a note. She opened it and a twenty-dollar
bill dropped out into her lap. The note, short
and very much to the point, read as follows:

"MISS BELL: Inclosed please ﬁnd twenty dollars
as a slight recompense for the trouble to which you
have been. put, and the writer of tlrse lines will
take it as a favor if you will keep the matter a pro-
found secnet, as the publication of your adventure
cannot ssibly do you any good, and vii! most cer
tainly o harm both to yourself and others.”

There was no signature to this note, which
was written in a ﬁrm, clerkly hand. ~

Altogether the whole affair was a not aston~
ishing one, and the more the girl reﬂected on
it the more bewildered she became. .he
twenty dollars she would not havo accepted if
she coul have helped herself, but she couldnt;
very we 1 return it at present, yet she made up
her mind that she would doso at some future
time if she ever had the chance.

Her train was only an hour later than the
one on which the troupe had traveled, and being
an “ express,” while the other was an “accom-
modation,” she arrived in Merideu while the
troupe were still at the depOt.

There had beena mistake in regard to the
hotels. The one which had contractedto take
the party discovered that it would not be able
to spare rooms enough to entertain them all; so
the managers were forced to skirmish round to ’
provide abidin for those members who could
not be kept at t e principal house, and pending
(tihese negotiations all the party remained at the
e t.

, the ﬁrst persons Miss Bell encountered
upon descending from the cars were Sara
Pearl and Gordon Mallory.

“I knew you would come!” Sam cried,
eagerly, rushing forward to tales her friend by
the band.

“Yes, I came as soon as I could; but on‘,
Sara, I have had such an adventure!” lielen
exclaimed.

“ And you didn' ’t go 01! with that fellow?”

“Go of! with who!” The young actress was
amazed.

Sara produced both of the let the one
written to the manager by the false Silvio,
and the few lines left in the sleeping apart~
ment.

“Come into the waiting-room where they
can’t stare at us so,” Sara said, drawing her
friend toward the door. ,

In the wailing-broom, which was co ra-
uvely free from mph, there was a.ful and
free explanation ween the two girls; and
Sam, better _ uainted with the world than
the other, speedi y guessed the truth.

“ We were both chloroformed; then you were
abducted, andif 'it hadn’t been for those men
coming as the did, you can depend upon it that
that rascal o a Cuban would soon have made
his appearance!” Sara exclaimed.

Shrewd of wit as the actress certaian was.

 
_:l~8

 
AN AMBITIOUS GIRL.

 
yet it was not within the ra e of human) wis-'
dom for her to guess that e lady and the
Cuban were one and the same, nor could she in
the least explain the mystery of the three men,
but her counsel in regard to the tWenty-dollar
bill was eminentlyr ractical.

“Return it? o bfy a geid sight, in dear!

van to you reely; you eep_ t, or i

you fee any com unctions about so domg, hand
it over to me. Ixhaven’t received anyt ing to
pa me for what I had to suffer. ”

And this was the end of the incomprehensible
adventure, but stranger ones yet Were in store
for the ambitious country girl.

CHAPTER XXII.
“wssrwsan, no i”
Tun De Silvio troupe had prospered. and
' from the Eastern circuit, as it is called, had
ssod down into tin South as far as Texas:
then it had come up into the West, and in the
springtime, when we again take up the thread
of our story, the party had reached the city of
Cincinnati, Ohio for a week’s sojourn.
Cincinnati, “ t e '

It was

 
Paris of America,” as it is
roudly termed by its inhabitants, is an excel-
ent theatrical city, especial] for attractions of

the Black Crook order, an all of the troupe

looked forward to a prosperous week’s business.

The Eastern members 01 the compan , though,
who were not used to the way in w ich thea-
tricals are served up in some of the Western
cities in certain ra-houses, were somewhat
astonished at the ght which the beheld when
the curtain rose on heir ﬁrst pe ormance. As
the disgusted low comedian of the y re-
marked—by the way, he looked exactly like a
minister, having a oomy, solemn face, dress-
inng always in com to black and Seldom being
seen to smile—“ ang me! if every man-Jae
out in front ain’t anchored to a r-mug!”

And it was true: nearly all the audience were
drinking beer, and those who were not drinkin
were smoking, and so, when the curtain wen
up, there was still another curtain of blue
smoke between the audience and the actors.

All this wasn’t a ve pleasant thing for the
Eastern artists, and t ey were naturally dis-
gusted: but the house was crowded with people
who were enthusiastic in their applause, an
after the actors got used to the smoke and the
beer it didn’t seem so bad. It wals1 tbaGgrmag
beer dun tem over again— us ii an
maﬁa alluge children, drinking beer and
engsyi the performance.

ut,i was a terrible blow to our ambitious
girl; and in the solitude of her

after the

Helen freed her mind of the load which ad

been weighing upon it.

“Sara, do you think I have improved any
since we started from New York?” she asked.

“ Oh, es; improved wonderfully' your voice,
face ﬂ were always g , of course,
but you di n’t know how to get on or 0:2 the

e properly or how to use your arms; all
the is chan now and though you have only
been on the stage ﬂve months you have pro-
gremed as far as most people do in time years.”

“Our season ends next week in Chicago, and
as far as I am concerned I will never have any-
thing more to do with such a troupe as this one.
You get a large salary .
could probably get in regular lines, but I have
receivad a very small one, and now that I have
madea name and am known as an actress, I
(b not see why I cannot do better than I am
doin now.”

“ tell you what it is, dear, start a combina-
tion; go out as a star with a company to sup-

i't you; take the hull right by the horns!

ou want to lay Juliet, and such parts, and
you are lit to them, too; who knows but
what you might make a success right from the

beginnin '1”

But, hav’n’t money enough: besides, I
don’t understand how to manage a combination,
and I shrink from the responsi ility.”

“ Oh, that is easily enough arranged. Adver-
tise for a manager with mono to take you out.
I don’t see wh you can’t nd an ‘angel’ to
suppl the fun s as well as any one else. I. will
go w th on and I’m a pretty good business
woman; will see that you are treated right.”

The prospect did look feasible; and oh, what
a vision is o nod to the girl’s eyes!

“ I will 0 it!” she exclaimed, comin to a
sudden determination. “ If I succeed will
realise my ambitious hopes, and if I fail—”

“ ‘In the bright_lexicon of youth which fate
reserva for a lorious manhood, there is no
such word as f ,’” Sara quoted.

So the attempt was determined upon and the
advertisement relating to it was sent to one of
the dramatic newspapers.

f right-hand box from th

, Sara, more than you i

“ An angel! my kingdom for an angel!” Sara
went “spouting around at odd times.
, But before the a el made his appearance the
:wtress was destine to encounter a gentleman
who much more resembled a denizen of the
; lower world than the upper.
! A party of gentlemen ad occupied the lower
e stage, on the opening
night of the troupe, and one of them, a stout,
ﬂorid-faced person of middle a e

1had been impressed with Miss oil, and had

evidently .-

w
l

, house. She was extremely blunt and out

w

that, With a double-barreled shot-gun she inst
slain the man who had killed her ushand and
helped to beat oi! the gang. And now, after
this wild and wanderi life, she had settled
down as the proprietor c this Cincinnati opera
en

‘ in her manner, the result of the wild life which

she had led; but, for all that, was a kindly-
hearted, honest woman, with a heart—as'her
circus boys used to express it—as big as a bul-

‘ lock’s.

taken a reat deal of pains to let the lady know i

it. He ad, too, improved the opportunity af-

forded by the box being near the sta e to re-
mark to is companions, when Miss ell came
upon the sta e, that she was the' prettiest girl
‘ he had seen or a lon time, and he took care to
1 speak in a tone plain {audible to the actress’s
gears. But ﬂve mont s of the stage life had
Fmade Helen pretty well used to this sort of
ithing. She had learned that, when a woman
idsres the lare of the footli hts, she exposes
herself tot e attentions of al the fools who
ifr -uent theaters. In New York, at Niblo’s,
‘she ad received notes by the score, some of
them couched in polite terms, some impudent,
,and some verging upon insult. Flowers and
jewelr , too, accompanied the letters.

Saras counsel was invaluable in these mat-
ters, for every day she Was Suujectcil to just
such attentions, which were seldom agreeali e—
in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred were de-
cidedly disagreeable, and sometimes extremely
annoving.

“Keep the ﬂowers and send back the pres-
ents,” she said. “Although in regard to the
latter part of the advice, perhaps I am a little
too particular. I know quite a number who
don’t return the presents. If the follows are
stupid enough to send them, why then the
quicker they learn that there is a great deal of
,truth in the old ada e, ‘A fool and his money
I are soon parted,’ the tter.”

( “But, surely they would not wear jewelry
7 so obtained!” Helen had exclaimed, in horror.
“Oh no; for, if they did, that would give
the maker of the gift a chance to improve the
opportunity. No, the quietly sell the trash
and put the money in heir kets.”
| Our young actress woul not do this; but,
even returning the resents did not damp the
fardor of some foolis young men, and she had
’been followed home from the theater more
times than she had ﬁngers and toes, and even
spoken to, but no man ever had tried this twice,
for the manner in which the young girl had re-
pelled the impudent advance was something

 
a rtment
performance was over that 3:: hi ht, Km dc

11

And so, as we have said, grown used to this
sort of persecution, which all actresses are
doomed to encounter, more or less Helen paid
no more attention to the remark or to the
man who made it than if he had never existed.

But the next ni ht the man was in the box
again, this time a one, but with a profusion of
’costly bouquets with which be literally pelted
the actress.

Of course eve time a bouquet was ﬂung the

audience a lau ed; the girl with her splendid
beauty ha ome quite a favorite upon her
ﬁrst a pearance, and although He en de-

 
, ised t eman who had thrown the ﬂowers-—
' ised him without knowin him on account
:of is insolent s eech, whic she knew well
‘enough was inten edto reach her ears—yet it
was stage etiquette to pick up the bouquet, and
,the audience would have risen en masse to re—
!sent the affront if the actress had neglected to
I ossess herself of the ﬂowers and then smile her
(thanks to the audience; but the moment she
‘got oi! the stage, in the “ wings”—as the side-
.scenes which mask in the sta e are called—
$witha contemptuous toss she ung down the
costly ﬂowers, much to the astonishment of the

f th th h t d d ,
reﬁt o 6 company' a] (mg hey reg” e * you may tell him so from me: and, furt

.the girl as an odd ﬂsh, anyway, for she was
Yea quiet and seldom ming ed with the rest.

' e manager of this particular 0 era house
a was a maniferess—a woman:someth ng rare in
utheatrical fe, for there are not many lady
Jmana rs. And this woman was a character
too; s e was pretty well along in years, was tall

man, and, fact, a very masculine we
her. Her life would have made avo ume of
1 most entertaining reading. As a child she had
been brought up as a circus rider; as a young
woman had been one of the great stars of the
arena; she had married the proprietor of a cir-
‘four quarters of the lobe; had been ship-
, wrecked half a dozen t mes: had seen her hus-

She was behind the scenes, and standing in
the wing, when Helen came 01!, and her eyes
opened widely as she beheld the youn actress

‘ toss the costlﬁ' ﬂowers so contem tuous yaway.
’

 
cusand with him had traveled over almost the E 10“ d1

“band shot down before her eyes in a Texan‘

country tywn when the canvas had been at-
,tacked b a gang of rouuhs. and report said

exclaimed, spiritedly. “ I do not

“Well, we oung lady, on on’t care much
for ‘buckets,’ 0 you? and hem kind cost ﬁve
dollars a lick, too! I s’ you don’t know me;
I’m Madam Pond, an I own this shant , but

ou’ve gota chance now to own one t ce as

ig, if you want to, for one of the richest men
in this town is struck after on. He wants an
introduction—Major Clutter ck; that’s him in
the box, yonder.”

CHAPTER XXIII.
rm: MAJOR.

“I DO not care to make anyac uaintance,
madam,” Helen answered, politely, or she was
impressed favorably by the face of the woman
despite her harsh tone and rough way of talk-

in '.

[‘h‘Now, little gal, don’t you be foolish! You
don‘t know what you are talking about. The
major is one of the big-bu . of this town: why,
he’s worth a million, if he s Worth a cent: been
a big contractor, you know. and a big politician,
too; got more irons in the fire all the time
than ten ordinary men could attend to; and
he’s struck after you—struck awful bad. I
don’t think that i ever saw a man so clean-gone.
I only wish that he would come after me .' I
tell you whatn—I’d throw myself right at him
the moment he said the word. I ain’t been
much on tho marry since poor Pond died, but I
think the major’s money would fetch me.”

The two were standing a little apart from the
rest in the scene entrance so that the conversa-
tion was not overheard by any one.

“He wants to give you a nice little wine sup-
per to-night after the show is out,” the man-
ageress continued; “ give him a chance, you
know, to make your acquaintance.”

“I never accept such invitations,” Helen re-
plied, coldly.

“ Oh, it’s all right! 'You needn’t be alarmed.
The major has invited me, too, to pla pro-
priety, you know, and you can bring Pear with
you, too, if you want to. I knew that you two
were lmighty thick, and I told the major that I
recko you wouldn’t come without her. I
tell you! we’ll have an el t spread!” and
the woman smacked her lips in anticipation.
“When the major goes at anything he makes
the cash ﬂy!”

" Madam, I cannot say that I feel honored by
the invitation for I do not !” the oung actress
ow the gen-
tleman, and I am not anxious to make his ac-
quaintance, and, least of all, do I like the we
in which he seeks to become acquainted wit
me.

“My dear little gal, don’t be an idlot!” the
woman protested: howon earth is the man to
get acquainted with you unless you give him a
chance? and, to my thinking, it is a mighty nice
delicate way of fixing the thing. I tell you,
the man is clean one on you! you can become
Mrs. Major Clut rbuck as easily as turning
your hand over, if you like.”

“ But, I do not like !” Helen replied, her eyes
ﬂashin and the color mounting into her cheeks.
“ And 1 doesn’t make a bit of diﬂerence to me
about the man’s money. I do not wish to make
his acquaintance. I will not go to his sup r;
or.
more, you may tell him that he will oblige me
greatly if he will discontinue his ﬂowers. I do
not appreciate his bouquets; the moment I get

of! the stage I ﬂing them awa as fast as poasi- .

bio, and if it were not for o ending the audi-
ence, from whom comes the money by means of

and strong, with a deep, hoarse voice like a 5 which I live, I would not pick up his ﬂowers at
n

about ‘

all.”

“Why, what on earth has the man done to
you that on have taken such a dislike to him!”
cried M m Pond, in wonder.

“He made an insulti remark when I came
on the stage Monda nig t,” the girl answered,
her cheeks hot wit anger, “and made it so
that I overheard it, as he intended I
shou d.”

“ Good gracious! and is that what this fuss is
about!” and the madam showed her surprise.
“ Well, if you ain‘t the most thin-skinned young

 
AN AMBITIOUS GIRL.

‘19

 
_more eloquentl

 
lady I ever run across! I was at the back of
the box; I heard what he said, and all the rest
of the men were newspaper fe110ws, critics. and
the major said it on purpose to start them a- o-
in . I never heard of a woman beingail’ron
begore by being told that she was andsome.
And didn’t the newspapers ring the change; on
it, to-day, too! Did you see the notices? by,
there isn’t one of them that doesn’t say you are
the handsomest woman that ever came to Cin-
cinnati, and the major put it up for you, too.
He stood the champagne for the bull ang in
the saloon in front of the theater, a ter the
show was out, and I heard him say, with my
own ears—‘ Gentlemen, I tell you what it is,
she is the handsomest woman that ever struck
this here town: and don’t you forget it! Here’s
her health, boys, and if an one of you snoosers
neglects to jest put in the ig licks for that gal,
in tomorrow’s papers, he’ll have me in his wool,
that‘s all !’ ”

A look of disgust ap on the handsome
face of the actress. d this was the glorious
life of which she had dreamed ever since she

was a girl! This was the laurel crown which
shtt:l was to clutch and wear! Oh, it was too ter-
ri e!

“ A hundred dollar bill couldn’t have done
m as much good in this town as the major,
night,” the manageress continued, “and it
would only be the fair thing to o and drink his
Wine, and eat his sup r, co daring how he
ﬁxed it with the ang or you.”

By this gentle rm did the lady refer to the
nezvspaper critics of the goodly City of Cincin-
na 1.

“I shall not go, madam, nor will I make
the man’s acquaintance; and it makes me feel
muy “Milled, now that I know how my news-
paper notices were obtained. I thought they
were fair and honest notices, and had no idea
th‘ey were really bought and paid for.” ~

Mighty‘few newspaper notices in this coun-
try that ain’t bought and paid for, in some
way, ’the madam retorted. “ Well, it is to be
no, then?"

“No, it most certainly is!”

“ The major will be tearin .”

The look upon the face of t e actress signiﬁed
. than words that the ms or
might “tear” a he liked, as far as she cared.

 
CHAPTER XXIV.
A BOLD srnoxn.

MADAM POND, somewhat annoyed that she
had been so complete] ' unsuccessful in her mis-
s_10n,_ returned to the x, wherein eat the ma-
nor, in a decidedly bad humor.

And that gentleman, who prided himself, and
with reason, too, upon his astuteness,

that she had not been successful.

That the girl would decline the proffered in-
vitation never once entered the woman’s head.
On the contrary she had thou ht that the bean-
tiful blonde would be delig ted at the op-

“? and she was both annoyed and mys-
‘pd lglher refusal.
my , the Wouldn’t have it, eh?” the major
q “[03. u the madam reéntered the box.

3 I?“ you are zright; she would not,”re-
Pued t 0 woman, her manner betraying that
slag considered herself an in ured rty.

What 5 the matter? at 1s the trouble
With m be“ l' and the major laughed as if
he con dared t e refusal a good joke.

The “331°”ij “1° “‘3'. was a tall, rtly man
With a "We d head almost comp etely bald
only a “111%: Of red hair remaining. Red 3156
was the ela mtely curled an axed mustache
and the pointed imperial whigfadomed his at

face.

Eve hing but an Adonis he vet
himsemhat he was a re a’r l y-kitilﬁztrbehfg
ugly men do take such no ons into their heads,
wmiimiieslh d ’t to

“ 'e , s c 08811 m make 0 -
quaintance,” curtly. y u no

The manageress was nettled and angry with
herself that she had conveyed the invitation see-
ing the: the major had looked upon it as a oke,
The gir was an impudent, upstart hussy £10 re.
fuse such a lite invitation; the major was a
foolfor havmtg tendered it; bill? She herself was
a still bigger 001 for mixing herself up in the
matter at all.

“ She daesn’t care to make ply-acquaintance,
chi” and again the astute politicmn lau bed as
1: it was a leasant jest. “Oh. well. 3 e Will

' get over tha in time when she ﬁnds out what a

nice fellow I am,”and the major leaned back in

his chair and winked knowingly at the man.
ress but she didn’t enjoy the pleasantry.

9‘ If she has got anything to say about i , she

 
won’t make your acquaintance !" the madam
spoke decided . “ She heard that remark on
made when e came on the stage the
night, about her being a handsome girl, and in-
stead of taking it as a compliment, as any sensi-
ble woman would, it made her an ry.”

“ Heard it!” and the major chuckled; “of
course she heard it: I intended that she should.
It was merely a neat wa , you know, of letting
her gee that she had e an impression upon
me A
“ It was a neat way of making her take a bi
dislike to you!” ﬁle woman retorted. "I to
you that gou are just wasting your time and
money. he don’t want to have anything to
do with on.”

“ Oh, have seen women before this one,” the
other replied complacent] . “ I know how to
take ’em, I know all their little tricks. This
girl only wants coaxing; that’s all.”

“ Oh, you think so, do you!” and there was a
ve perceptible sneer both on the woman’s face
an in her voice. “Well, you just go ahead,
and if you succeed in getting on good terms
with this haughty minx—”

“ What then?” and the major laughed in the
other’s face.

“ Why, you are a smarter man than I think
you are, t 'lt’l a ,” and with this parting shot
the madam retreated.

in the gentleman laughed and rubbed his
fat, id-gloved hands softly together as he re-
marked:

“That woman thinks that she knows evsry-
thin . She jud ever other woman in this
wor d by hersel . She ows very well that if
a man threw diamonds and sich trash at her
she would jump at them like a cat at a mouse.
She hasn’t any idea that, by holding back and
playing shy, a girl increases her value. It was
a sudden fanc I took to this beauty, but I be-
lieve I was in be right about it; she is a deuced
fine critter, and is worth the winning. ‘What is
the good of a girl who is ready to throw herself
into your arms the moment you look at heri
That ain’t the kind of gal I like. I ain’t no
Turkish sultan to go ’round ﬂinging handker-
chiefs at women!’ the major continued, with
more energy than grammar. “ I like a critter
Who puts a value on herself like this hyer one
does. She’s the queen for my money, I reckon 1”

At this point the girl came on the at e again,
and although from the position in whic he sat
the box being on the level of the stage he could
almost have reached out his hand and touched
her, yet with the utmost coolness, he raised his
heavy o ra-glasses—more like a it of field-
glasses 33m t eir smaller kmdr , and apply-
mg them to his eyes kept them persistent y
ﬁxed upon the face of the actress all the time
she was upon the stalge. much to her annoyance,
for, though she abso utely ignored the presence
of the inquisitor, yet she was conscious of the
scrutiny, and it made the angry blood rise in
her veins.

The excitement caused an unwanted color to
appear u n her cheeks, and never.in all her
life had gig: looked so superbly, beeth-

u yGeorgex she is a ‘darhn ! ” exclaimed
the litician, dropping as was s.hab1t, into
the 3: ‘ Yes, 811', she is a darling

' oin to have her if it
costs a. sm fortune. ow s 6 would make ’em
open their eyes at Washington, rigged out in
Silk and satin and with about twenty thousand
dollars’ worth of diamonds on! Wouldn’t they
stare when the word went ’round, ‘That’s old
Clutterbuck’s roperty, Ulutterbuck of Ohio!’
and I reckon at when I sent out invitations
for a ‘ spread ’ there wouldn’t be many men in
Washington who_w0uld hesitate to accept if
they knew that this gorgeous queen was a- oing
to preside over the ceremonies. Oh, deci edly
she is just the kind of woman I have been look-
in after for a deuced long time!”

The actress passed from the stage, and the
major, lowering hiso ra-glass tilted back his
chair against the wal and fell into a brown
study. Not a whit did. he care for the per-
formance excepting when the woman who ad
fascinated him was upon the stage. We say
fascinated, and yet the word is not exactly the
right one to use, for the wily speculator and
politician was not the kind of a man to be fas-
cinated by anybody. He was of too cold and
selﬁsh a nature to ever yield to “ love‘s delicioul
thrill.” He wanted the  £2; a certai;
pose—a purpose for w c e was e .
suited; he had been lookin for a tool for quite.
a long time, but, as he w d have expressed i

ng of the da .
and a daisy and 1y am

he had never found any oneto “iii! the bill
until this actress made her appearance, and

 
then, when she had ﬁnished her first speech he
had slapped his fat hand upon his fat knee in I

delight. ﬁis companions thought that he was
admiring the lady, and so he was, and at the
same time exclaiming to himself: “She’ll do;
she’s the very woman—young, beautiful, a
regular lady with an air like a gueen; wouldn’t
she look stunning in diamonds!‘

From that moment the major had followed as

rsistently in the woman-chase as a blood-
mund u a the trail of the flying fugitive.

Now deep thought he cogitated: he was
planning how to layt e wires to accomplish the
object in view. Suddenly a sly, cunning smile
crept over his face. He had hit upon a plan!

Just then Helen Bell came upon the stage

sin, and once more the schemer gave him—
se f up to the enjo ment of loatin over her
“points,” just as i she had one orse ora
do which he thought of buying.

he studied indiﬂerence which the girl dis-
played in regard to his presence did not annoy
the major in the least; on the contrary, he was
highlliy‘pleased.

‘ n me if she won’t do the honors like an
em ress ’ he exclaimed. “ Can’t she give the
col shoulder to the fellows who don’t ste'po:
to the mark as they oughterf 0h, she’s the E
for my money!”

The rest of the week passed 01! uneventfully
enough until Saturday night came. It had been
threatening a storm all day long, and finally.
just about dusk the rain commenced ina kind
of drinle, that ept on falling steadily.

“We shall get wet through.” Sara exclaimed
in dismay to elen, alwa her constant com-
panilon, as they emerged cm the shelter of the

o .

“Yes; had we not better take a carriage!”
the other asked. “ It is a long way to the thea—
ter, and we are sure to get our feet wet.”

~“These hackmen always charge so much,”
Sara grumbled. She was always of a frugal

A hackman, standing by, espying the two
ladies, swooped down upon them.

“ Coach, ladies?”

“Well, I don’tlknow,” replied Him Pearl,
doubtfully. “How much will you charge to
take us to the ra house across the Rhine!"

An extra yeunmvory canal which runs
through the cen rof the cit of Cincinnati is
digniﬁed by this classic title, in the fact that
for a great many years, about all the peeple
who lived in the upper part of the cit , across
the canal, were Germans, and tocrcm t ecanal,
the Rhine, was at once to enter upon this Gar
mulblh'nhilessed if I kn ladi wrapped

“ , ew on, es,
up in yer waterproofs, ” the ckman ex
with the easy amiliarity of his class. “I was
in Monda night and see’d the show. Well,
seeing as ow it is you, and we allers makesa
discount to the perfession, I will take ou to
the opera house, and fetch you home the
show, for three dollars.”

“We may not need the coach coming home;
the rain may stop,” Sara remarked.

“0h, bless you! this rain is for to-mor-
row," the driver assured. “ it sets in at
this hyer time of the year it never rains lea
nor two or three days: but, if the rain holds up,
I won’t charge you but two dollars.”

“That is too much: make it tw0 dollars tor
the whole thing and then we will ride bane,
anyway.”

‘Well, dumed if I don’t seeing that it is
ou! Bo jum in!” And when the two tin
{hecarriage,&racouldnotforbearrem ' -
“You see, dear, it never does to
men what they ask. You can always
down about one-half.” .

At the theater the two girls alighted.

“ You will be sure to be here at the close of
the rformance?” Sara asked.

“ h, yes: you can depend upon me, and if I
ain‘t hyer you won’t have to pay nobody noth-
ing, you know,” and the hackman winked as he
drove oil.

The entertainment passed off as usual. The
curtain descended an the last performance of
the Black Crook, as faras thiscom
concerned, in Cincinnati, was over.
ily glad, too, were all the members of the
troupe, for being all rather “ high-toned” in
their ideas they didn’t relish laying to this
lager—beerdrinking, cigar-em “since, no
matter how appreciative they might be, and re-
gardless of the fact that their moneywas just as

as an y else’s.

As Sara a very diﬂicult drew to tabs of!
and was naturally very slow about it, being al-
ways tired after her hard work, it followed
that shewas general] about the last one to
{leave the theater. He en, of course, waited for

er.

ve these
t them

y were
heart-

..

 
20

 
AN AM..13EEIQ_US-,GIRL-

 
hack in waiting, and van
they that the had engag it, for the rain had
increased rat er than diminished.

The driver jumped down and opened the door,
and as he did so a man who had been standin
.in the shadow of the theater doorway advanc
and addressed Miss Pearl.

“Miss Sara Pearl, I believe?” he said.

1 “Yes, sir,” responded the actress, surveying
the person, to perceive that he was not known
to her.

“ Will you have the kindness to favor me with
a few minutes’ conversation in private upon a
.matter which is of great importance to on? I
will detain you but a few moments,” he insten-
ed to add, perceiving that the id was not dis—
posed to grant the request. “ e can step into
the theater; it won‘t take but a moment.”

There was something very earnest and per-
suasive about the man, and Sara wondered al-
though she did not believe that what he had to
as. was of any particular importance.

‘ It is raining and my friend will get wet,”
she said.

“ Get right into the coach, ma’am,” suggested
the hackman, who was holding the door open.

“ It is really a matter of almost life and death
importance, miss!” the man pleaded.

‘ Very well: get in the carriage, Helen; I
won’t be long,” and Sara followed the man into
the theater again while her companion entered
the coach.

“I’ll just shut the door, miss, while I look
arter the horses, and it will kee the rain out,”
the driver said, after the girl ad entered the
carria e; then he closed the door and disap-
pears from Helen’s sight.

In the back lobby the stranger told Sara
quite a long story, much to her disgust, but it
was almost impossible to get away from the
man. He was a writer, one of the struggling,
unsuccessful fellows who never seem able to
make their mark in this world. He had a play
—a grand )lay, and Miss Pearl was exactly
suited fort e heroine. If she would onl cen-
descend to take and play his piece both 0 their
fortunes would be made at once.

It was the same old stor ' the irl had listened
to twenty times at least. inal y to get rid of
the fellow, as he said that he was utterly with-
out money, and knew not where to sleep that
night, she gave him a dollar. He clutched it
with much emotion, protested that he would re-
.pay it at the first convenient opportunity, and
vanished into the street.

Sara put up her purse and shook her head du—
hiously. '

“ I will never see that dollar again,” she mut-
tered, then she passed through the door into the
rain.

The street was deserted!

Sara stared; she looked u and down, but,
look where she would no coac met her eyes.

“ Where on earth have they gone? What
does the fellow mean b driving oﬂ in this
way i” Then she hurrie down to the street,
thinking perhaps that the coach was around
the corner, but not a sign of one could ,she dis-
cover!

She knew not what to make of it, and in at»
tor bewilderment made her way to the hotel,
thinki that it was just possible the man had
driven elen home; but no Helen could she
find] In des r she hunted up Gordon Mal-
lor and told in the story.

young actor knitted his brows; strange
it seemed to him that so many perils encircled
the oung actress.

“ o to bed,” he said, at last, “I will not rest
until I find her!”

And Sara had faith that he would be as good
as his word.

 
CHAPTER XXV.
a ursrnnious AFFAIR.

AFTER entering the coach, Miss Bell sunk
hack on the seat and gave herself up to reﬂec-
tions which were of a decidedly gloomy cast.
So far her experience had not been a
pleasant one. n her daydreams of the ac-
tress’s glorious life, she had not counted upon
certain drawbacks which actual experience ad
now taught her most certainly existed. The rose
of dramatic glory was not without its thorns,
and, brief as had been her career u
stage, sonieof the thorns had wound her so-
verely. Unlike the heroines of the many stories
shehad read, wherein the lucky girl, by gomg

upon the stage, either operatic or dramatic, at 5

-a single bound gains both fame and fortune,
she had not won her laurel crown or the glitter-
ing dross which the empt -headed world tosses
at the feet of its idols.

the L

be was “ very good.” ;

iwhen the c0st of an actress’s board and war -
{ robe is considered; but, where, oh, where were
v the countless thousands which she had been so
3sure of gainin i

,1 It was a her life; a great man discomforts
; were attached to it, and every dol she earned
!she felt that she had worked for' it was not
,1 play, but toil—the general idea to the contrary
' notwithstanding.

, Although buried in these gloomy thoughts,
‘ the girl could not help noticing that the driver
[was havin a great deal of trouble with his
fhorses, which seemed to be very restive; they
i Were prancing up and down, and the driver was
i endeavorin to restrain them, but, apparently,
, unsuccessfu ly.

; Finally, the animals gavea plunge andstarted.
,Away t ey went at a full gallop, the driver
; shouting pt them, but the beasts were evidently
4 very fractious: down the street they tore, and
, whirled around the corner into the next avenue,
" evidently at the top of their speed.

The girl bean to et alarmed ; the beasts were
evidently entirely ﬁeyoud control, and there
seemed to be danger of an upset. The thought
passed through her mind that she had better at-
tempt to get out, although from the speed at
which the vehicle was going, there was great
danger in the eil‘ort. .

She attempted to open the door, but the door-
knob was evidently out of order and it would
not work; the other door was equally obstinate,
and so, perforce, she was obliged to remain in
the carriage, although she expected that every
moment it would be upset and dashed in pieces.

For a ood twent minutes the coach kept on
in its w‘ d career; t en the horses began to tire
of their" wild pranks, and the driver succeeded in
getting them under control. The subsided into
a trot, and finally the driver pulled them to a
halt. Turning in his seat he addressed the

oung lady through the glass window in the
rent.

“Did you ever see sich contrary beasts?” he
exclaimed, hoarsely.

It was so dark that the girl could hardly see
his face, but from his voice it was evident that
he was greatly excited.

“ Where are we?” was Helen’s natural ques-
tion.

‘f’Wa on the edge of the t0wn; it will take
a good alf-hour to git back ag’in, blast their
pictur’sl” growled the driver. “ But, don’t be
alarmed, miss; thar ain’t any danger of their
trying that trick ag’in. They have got all the
running they want for one while. Jest keep
quiet and I will have you back in no time if
the beasts ain’t hurt themselves with their fool-
ishness.”

“ Oh, I am not afraid.” .

The driver drove on again, and Helen, sink-
ing back upon the seat, reflected upon what
Sara would think.

“ She will be terribly alarmed when she ﬁnds
that the coach is one, and will no doubt
imagine all kinds 0? dreadful things. Thank
Heaven that it isn’t any worse. I have been
pretty well frightened, but I might have been
seriously hurt if the coach had been over-
tumed, ’she murmured.

The coach rattled on, and Helen took little
heed of the surroundings, nor even of how the

 
When the two girls came out they found the \l experienced old stagers said, worth twenty-ﬁve ‘ 9V8" 6183111911811 11118 1100308 on the OPPOGWB Side
glad indeed were , or thirty dollars a week, not a large sala

t of the street, or, in fact, any other house at all
the nei hborhood.

“How onely it seems in the darkness,” she
l muttered ; “one would think there wasn’t
, another house within sight.”

Then there was the sound of a key turning in
T the lock and of bolts being, drawn; some one
I was about to open the door ehind her!

It was rather an unpleasant position, but the

V in

‘ whoever it was, or else
i and surely, she thou ht, in such a driving rain,
‘ no one would deny er the poor privilege of
shelter within the porch.

The door opened and a woman
appeared—a stout, rathei hard-featured wo-
man, a coal-oil lamp in her hand. She sur-
veyed the girl with a look of curiosity.

‘Did you want to see any one, miss?” she
asked, respectfully.

“No, ma’am; one of the horses of the coach
in which I was riding suddenly became lame,
and the driver requested me to remain here
while he went to the saloon yonder, which he
said was not a fit place for a lady to visit.”

“ Well, I should say not; but, won’t you come
in, miss! I will leave the door open and the
lamp on the table in the entry, so that the
driver will know you are in the house and can
call on when he returns.”

d “ ”would not think of troubling you, me-
am.

“Oh, no trouble at all, but on will catch
your death of cold standing on here,” and in
truth the girl was shivering, for the night air
was growing chill and keen. “Come in, and
you are heartily welcome. I have a good warm
room up—stairs. I was sitting there reading
when the coach drove up. I heard it stop at
the door and drive away, and then I thought
that I heard sdmebody knock; that is the rea-
son why I came d0wn, but I sugpose it was you
moving about on the perch. on needn’t be
alarmed, miss; there ain’t a soul in the house
except myself; the family are all away, and I
am left to take care of the property.”

The girl was cold—in fact, rapidly becoming

her that it was possible the driver might not be
inclined to be in a hurry to‘ leave the comforts
of a warm saloon; this induced her to accept
the woman’s invitation. ,

“ All right; follow me ri ht up—stairs. Stand-
ing in the porch on such a n ght as this is enough
to ive you your death of cold.”

he woman Iplaced the lamp upon a table in
the hall, then ed the we. up the stairs.

The house was elegan ly furnished and evi-
dently the dwellin of a man of means.

At the head of t e stairs 9. ion e ex-

 
{time was passing, until at last, beginning to ,

grow sleepy, the thought came into her head
, that it was surely time they were at the hotel,
1 and she was just about to speak to the drivsr
when the coach suddenly stopped; the driver

I dismounted and came to the door, which, even -,
1 with his strong hands, he hada great deal of ;

difﬁculty in opening.

."1.“Miss, one of these ’ere horses has gone dead
lame, and I‘m afeard that he has got a hurt in
his foot. Would you mind gettin’ out and
waiting here in this doorway while I drive u
to the saloon yonder and see about it!
wouldn’t like to have ou go up that in the
coach, miss, for thar’s a ways a hard crowd of
boys a-hanging round thar at this time of night,
i. and it mi ht not be pleasant for you. It won’t

as I find out what is the matter.”

Helen thought the driver was very kind and
considerate, and she thanked him for it: from
such a rough fellow she would not have ex-
, pected such thoughtfulness.
. d The driver mounted to the box and away he
* rove.
, The firl looked around her, and, as the rain
1 was fa ling quite heavily, she sought shelter in
. the ample door of the mansion before which the
coach had halted. .

The night was so dark that the girl could not

 
, take me ong, and I’ll come right back as soon ‘

tended through the house, and a

bearing a light ,

actress must either encounter the new—comer, A
go out into the storm, ,

l
l
i
l

i

i
l
2
l
g
i
l
a

chilled to the bone, and the thought occurred to 

i

i

the further A

end of the passage the guide ushered the actress 3

into a large room most ma
and heated evidently by
nace.

“Sit down, miss, and I will
can’t get you some refreshment.

iﬂcentl furnished,
at air rom a fur-

The actress be ged the woman not toput her- 

self to the tron le, but she would do it, and

goandseeifI'

2

after placing a comfortable easy-chair for her 

guest by the register in the wall departed.
The atigue which she felt,
the room and the seductive inﬂuence of the ex-

he warm air of :

tremel comfortable chair all combined to pro— 7

duce r0wsiness and almost before she was
aware she was fast locked in slumber’s bonds!

3

And she slept on, undisturbed, until the gray 1
. light of the morning stole in at the heavily-cur—. ‘

tained windows; then, with a sudden start, she
awoke and looked around in vast amazement.

For a moment she was puzzled and then all at '

once the events of the past night ﬂashed upon

her.

But what did it all mean? Why had not the
driver come for her? Why had she been allowed
to sleep all night in the chair?

She s rung to her feet and went to the door.
It was
dows, pulled aside the curtains and lei—each
window was arded by iron bars!

The truth hed upon her; she had been en-
trapped!

 
CHAPTER XXVI.
MORE MYSTERY.
Yns, Helen had been entra ped most surely!
She began to ponder over t ie strange affair;
was it a?
beginnin i It seeme

like it, and yet, why
should it so?

astened; then she hurried to the win- ;

l
l

g
f
l

l a cunning] -contrived plot'from the ‘

What reason was there for the f

committal of such an act of high-handed vio' i
lencei But the more she pondered the more be i

wildered she income.

 
side
; all

’ she
isn’t

g in
one

the
nor,
am,
ain,
i of

lght
sur-
she

ach
me,
new
. be

me
the
the
can

,thi
l in
air
ind
Ll'm
ing
ght
'ea-
you
use
d I

ing
1 to

irts
ept

nd-
igh

Wi-

ex—
her

V!

ir;
lie
liy

10‘

 
She was standing in the center of the apart-
ment, having started back from the window in

 
utter amazement and horroru n discovering
that the easement was protecte by strong iron

rs. Another door opposite to the one by
which she had entered attracted her attention.
Possibly this Second door might not be fastened,
and it was not, as she discovered upon trying it,
but to her disappointment the door only led
into another apartment, a most luxuriously-
furnished sleeping-room, and the girl, although
one of those peculiar natures slow to manifest
feeling, could not re ress an exclamation of
surprise as she look upon the superb apart-
ment. All that taste could devise and wealth
afford was there; the bride of an Eastern king
could not have asked for a more sumptuously-
furnished chamber. Even adressingtable with
all the little notions so necessary to the toilet of
a beautiful woman was rovided, and the
yarious articles were spree out upon the top
in full view, just as if the inmate of the room
had been occupied with them but a moment be-
fore. In fact, so complete was the illusion that
the apartment had been occupied only alittle
while ago, that Helen looked anxiously around
as though she expected to see the occupant
hiding away in some corner.

The ex ctation, though, was not realized;
not a so was within the room; the bed was
smoothly made ii and showed no signs of
having been oceiipied during the previous night.

But, extravagant as was the uxury of the
apartment, the window—curtains, being partly
drawn aside, revealed that these easements, like
those in the other room, were securely guarded
by stout iron bars.

In all her experience Helen Bell had neVer
scenor read of anything like this; a mansion
furnished as this one was, and yet with all the
Windows guarded by iron bars like a prison,
was really something most strange.

Bu”, as she pondered over this mysterious af-
fair, a sudden thought ﬂashed into her mind.
Was it possiible that, either by accident or de-
T , she had been brought to a lunatic asylum?

. e girlhad never been inside any such institu-
tion, and her natural good sense told her that
ﬁtments in an asylum would not, as a rule,

tted up in this sumptuous manner, and the

. more she puzzled her brain to explain the mys-

teiéy the more bewildered she became.

uddenly a. peculiar gratin noise readied
her eais coming from the ot er apartment;
quickly she turned and returned to the Other
room, thinking that some one was entering.

The sound, though, came not from the door,
but from a small closet, the door of which was
closed and which she had not noticed before.

The neise stopping as she approached the
closet, she hastened to o n the ittle door, and
the moment she did t is the cause was at
once made apparent,

Within the closet was a dumb waiter, quite a
{mall one, and its ascension from the ﬂoor he-
ow had caused the noise. U n one of the
shelves of the waiter was a unallohand-bell and
a sheet of per n which, in a very coarse
hand, though evi ently penned by a woman,
some lines were written.

Eigerly the girl snatched up the brief note,
@118 ng that she might discover some explana-
giinggothtgtif'ange affair, but in this she was

.11 ,oru nthe ra edthe
fol‘lp‘w‘ing communication: pave pm

' 9“ You t him and want our breakfast

Bing the hell; I: the glam apartyment you will

n‘i‘l all the necessary articles or your toilet."

I I am not on] to be well housed but well
‘?d 9150,.“ won d seem,” the girl remarked.

It isqiiite evident, even if 1 am a prisoner, it
is not intended I shall starveto death. In time
some one Wlll come and then this mystery Will
be explained, and until my jailer makes his a -
peM‘ance, the tthing I can do is to ma e
m self as comfortable as possible. ”

uring her brief career upon the stage the
actress had grown to be quite a woman of the
rozlﬁd, and sheh took this odd adventure as
as 't w _
mu thong i asamere everyday occur

She rung the bell upon the dumb 'ter d

hardly had she re laced it u NV” ’ an
pon the sh lf
down Sunk the wlfole concern. h 6 When

. en a voice rung throug the roo
00mmg_ evident] from a speaking-tube 30mm;i
Wh‘elre in the wall:

n wenty minutes the meal will be read -
everything will be cooked fresh for you, so (lo,
not be impatient.”

80 said the voice, and the girl recognized the
tones on the instant. It was theyvoice of the
woman who had pressed the hospitality of the
manSion upon her—the spider who had tempted

AN AMBITIOUS GIRL.

her, the innocent, unwary ﬂy, to walk into the
web which had so completely insnared her.

“ This is no accident, but all a deep-laid de-
signl” the girl exclaimed, and then to her mind
came thou hts of the mysterious woman who
had caused er to be abducted in New Haven.

Of course when she had rejoined Miss Pearl,
and they had exchanged conﬁdences, all the
events of that night of mystery became clear to
her. Both she and her com nion had been
chloroformed; then she had n carried off
bodily; but, what reason there was for the
strange proceeding, what end was to be gained,
and who the unknowndady was, who knew so
much of her family affairs—more than she know
herself, or had ever suspected—she could not

guess.

Now that she was again a risoner, so cun-
ningly entrapped, and so close y, though luxu-
riously conﬁned, thoughts of the unknown lady
at once flashed upon her.

Who else but the person who had once ab-
ducted her would be likely to play the same
trick?

Time would reveal the mystery, of course;
and so, with a calmness which was quite won-
derful she proceeded to make her toilet, an
operation which did not consume much time,
for such a beautiful 'rl as the actress truly
mas did not require artiﬁcial aids to enhance her

an y.

In twenty minutes promptly the dumb-waiter
ascended, bearing a breakfast upon its shelves
which would have added a luster to the crown
of the best Parisian cook.

 
A round dozen of rare and dainty dishes, all ,

t

exquisitely garnished, and teniptiug-looking'

enough even to attract the attention of one who
bad Just risen from a hearty meal. The table
equipage was all of solid silver, and a long-
necked bottle of breakfast wine ﬂanked the
steaming coffee-pot. _Of course the girl was no
judge 0 any such thing, but if she had been,
and had examined the label, she would have
known that the wme was one of the rarest vin-
tages known to the epicure, and worth a good
twenty dollars a bottle!

Helen, with her characteristic rare good sense,
determined to enJOy the feast and wait pa-
tiently for the explanation which she felt sure
soon must come.

But neither coffeenor wine did she touch.
She had become suspicious, and feared that one
or both might contain a narcotic. A small
pitcher of ice-water was also upon the table,
and of this she drank.

The repast'ﬂnished she replaced the dishes
upon the waiter, and the woman below evi-
dently upon the watch, called out through the

king-tube—the lccation of which however

e girl could not discover, despite her careful
searc :

“ Please place all the things upon the waiter
and ring the bell when you are through.”

With this regest the girl complied, and when
the tinkle of e bell , again the voice

5 ke: .
p3 Keep the bell and when you wish anything
please to ring.”

The irl took the bell and down the waiter
descen ed. The moment it disappeared from
sight Helen rung the bell violently.

‘What is it, Elem?” called out the voice.
“Speak down t rough the waiter-well and I
can hear you.” .

“ I wish to know what is the meaning of this
mystery—why am I detained here I” the young
actress asked.

“ I do not kn0w,” the woman replied. “ I am
hired to wait upon on and instructed to see
that ou do not wan for anything.”

“ nd who is your emplo er?”

“Miss, I cannot answer, am forbidden.”

“But you are running a eat risk—you are
rendering yourself liable to t e law by taking a

. part in this outrage!" the girl cried, indig-

nantlv. “ You are depriving me of my liberty
and the law Will .punis you severely for taking
part in such a crime.”

“ I don’t know anything about it, miss,” the
voice answered, the tone calm and respecth.
“ I did not bring you here. You came of your
own free will, as far as I know, and I am not
opposing any obstacles to our departure. I
have nothing at all to do wit it.”

“This is evasion!” replied Helen. “All you
have to do to set me at liberty is tocome UP
and unlock this door. I am very far fro!!!
being rich, but out of my limited means I W111
pay on any sum I can for the servme.”

“ t is impossible,” said the voice, still calmi
still very respectful. “In the first place,

 
have not the key, and therefore I Cannot UHIOCk

 
the door. eVen if [ would. In the second. I}

2 1
am forbidden by the person whopa 5 me my
wages to ascend to your ﬂoor. Whenl accepted
the position I romised to obey his orders, and
I cannot brea in word.”

“ His orders!” elen repeated, mechanically.
to herself. Her guess then was wrong. It was.
not the mysterious woman, the contriver of the
ﬁrst abduction, who was the promoter of this
second one. And yet the man referred to might
be the agent in charge of the affair, em loyed
by the woman, for of course she cou d not
very well carry through. such an affair in her-
own roper person. _

“ hen can I see this person who has dared
to commit this outrage—d ared to deprive me of
my liberty?” cried the actress.

“ As soon as you like; I expect him here every
moment.”

“Tell him then that I wish to see him the
moment he arrives.”

“ Yes, miss; I will ;” then there was quite a:
pause, broken at last by the woman’s exclaim—
ing: “ He has just come in, miss, and I will tell
him to wait upon you at once.”

Soon then. the mystery of this odd affair"
would be solved.

CHAPTER XXVII.
'rns: EXPLANATION.

Tim young actress now became intensely ex—
cited. The color began to rise in her usually
pale cheeks and her eyes to sparkle with an un»
wonted brilliancy.

She sat down in the easy-chair by the center
table and fixed her eyes upon the door, think~
ing each moment to hear the tread of footsteps.
and the sound of the ke turning in the lock.

Five—ten minutes 5 ie waited. every vein,
within her body thrilling with excitement, but
not the slightest sound from without reached
her ears; another minute and then a slight
noise right at her side attracted her attention,
a noise almost imperceptible, but, slight as it
was, it caused her to turn to see what had occa-
sioned it.

A man dressed in a full evening suit, got up
regai dless of expense, with great iamon studs
s 'rkling in his snowy shirt-bosom, and an
e aborate diamond breast in, shaped in the
form of a cross, worth a ’ng’s ransom, was.
standing within a yard of her!

80 complete was the surprise that Helen's
breath came short and quick for a moment, and
then, trembling all over with excitement, she
sprung to her feet.

There wasa secret door to the room in the
side-wall b the dumb-waiter, evidently, and
the man be stolen through whiie the girl’s at
tention had been fixed u on the door. The
thick pilezof theca tha muffled the sound
of his footsteps an so he had been able to
reach the side of the table, almost within arm‘s—
length of the girl, without exciting her no—
tice.

For a good three minutes he had stood there,
gloatin upon the beauty of the charming wo--
man W cm he had so dextrously entrapped
within his power.

A longdrawn breath which he unconscious]
allowed to esca him, as the demon of triumq}
fwelled within '3 heart, put an end to the ta
can.

The actress recognised the man at once and
he knew it well enough, b the ﬂamin look of

utter acorn which up upon the utii‘ul
face.

The man was Ma or Clutterbnck!

And as she look at that gross, gloating face,~

she realized that what had occurred had been
carefully planned by the creature before her.

The storm had aﬁorded the op rtunity
which the politician had been qui to im-
prove. The hackman had been hired to lie in
wait for herself and Sara at the hotel and coax
them to ride. The fellow who had so urgently

for a private interview with Miss Pearl
at t back-door of the theater was a tool, em-
ployed for the express purpose of separating
her from her companion' the runaway horses
the driver’s story about the lameness of one o
the animals, his_getting her to seek the shelter
of the porch while he went to the saloon for as-
sistance, woman’s invitation to enter the
house—all were but rts of a plot framed with
fiendish cunning. er falling asleep, though,
in the luxurious apartment, was an accident,
but it helped the craft scoundrel to complete
his design and threw her completely into the
snare.

And n0w, as she comprehended all the details
of this cunningly-devised scheme, and under—
stood how successfully it had been carried. out,
how completely she was in the power of this
man. at whom her verv soul revolted. she tow-

 
an.  ,

cred aloft, drawing her ﬁgure up to its fullest
bight, absolutely looking down upon the rather
squatty-ﬁgured politician, and glared at him so
with her magniﬁcent eyes that, despite the
strength of is impudence, and the great
amount of his unblushing assurance, the man
really felt a little uncomfortable.

However, as he had often boasted, he was not

the man to turn back when he had once ut his
hand to the wheel, and although for t 0 ﬁrst
time he realized the full extent of the task which
he had so wantonliv taken upon himself, and
foresaw that he ha the most difﬁcult job of his
life before him, yet, bull-dog like, he was de—
terminedto go ahead.

Smooth words and bland civility he intended
to oppose to angry looks and threatening
won 3.

And so he bowed as lowly before the girl
upon whom he had put such an insult as though
she was aqueen—more than a queen, the em-

ress of some Eastern land, and he one of the
umblest of her slaves.

“ I humbly beg your pardon, miss, for thelib-
erty I have taken, and trust you will not re-
fuse to listen to my excuse, although I am aware
that there can hardly be any excuse for such an
outrageous act as this one that I have been
guilty of, but when a man is blind with passion
—drunk with love, then ‘ the wits ﬂy and mad-
ness rules the hour.’ ”

The major was uite an able stumpspeaker,
and had often pri ed himself upon his extem-
pore orations.

But not the slightest effect did his words pro-
duce upon the ‘rl; in lofty scorn she looked at
him as though or eyes were daggers to pierce
him to the heart.

He was quick to comprehend that he had noi
made the slightest impression, so he tried
a

 
in.
8"1211 re at I know there isn’t any excuse for
what I ave done, and that words only increase
the enormity of the act, but when a man loses
his reason he ought not, by good rights, to be
blamed for what he does. I tried my best to
rocure an introduction to you—an honorable
introduction such as any lady might grant to
any res ta le gentleman without fear of com-
romismg herself. Of course, I know that
Bidies who are in public life like yourself, can
not be too careful, and I have been informed
that I incurred your displeasure by the
exclamation which escaped from me in the box
the ﬁrst ni ht ou appeared in the opera-house,
here, but cou d no have helped uttering it
Miss Bell, any more than I could have he ped
breathing; it was an honest, genuine opinion,
and you must reall blame yourself and na-
ture for that. I co (1 no more help exclaiming
that you were beautiful, than you can help be-
ing the woman you are. Bafﬂed in all my ef-
forts, then, to gain an honorable introduction
to you, desperate at the thought that you were
going away, and that I shoul no more behold
you, an evil genius, I believe, suggested to me
the plan by means of which you were brought
here. The historic incident which comes back
tome from my boyhood’s days sugglested it—
the rape ofthe Sardine women by t 8 Roman
youths; I mean the Sabine.”
The major was a little rust in his histo .
Helen never moved a musc e; she might lave
been a statue as far as showing si s of life was
concerned, excepting, of course, t 0 quick heav-
ing of her bosom, and the expressive ﬂashes of
her great, glorious e es. She was waiting for the
mantoﬁmsh,andt enshe hadafew wordsto

sa .

x Fair means would not avail, and so I was
obli to try foul; and dare I hope that this
fran confession will, in part, excuse the of—
fence 1”

“Please to open the door, sir and allow me
to depart,” the girl replied, coldly.

The major perceiVed that that “tack”
wouldn’t work, so he was ready for another.

“Miss Bell, in all things you will ﬁnd me

our most obedient slave!” with another low

ow. “ In all things but that our slightest
wish would be as law to me, but trust you will
pardon me even this one disobedient act when I
explain that if I decline to release you“; is sim-
ply to allow me time to deﬁne my pOSItion. If
you will have the kindness to be seated—”

“ No, not in your house, sir.” The words and
the lady’s manner ought to have convmced the
major that he was only wasting time, but he
wouldn’t be convinced.

“It will be so much more comfortable and
agreeable to us both,” he urged. “ I have quite
an explanation to make, and I am afraid that
you will tire.”

“Undoubtedly I shall,” the girl answered, bition when I get there to be the biggest toad 

   
AMBITIOU

 
AN..-

S_ __GIRL.

 
l

icil . “Why, then, do you trouble both your-
1sel and me? I do not wish to hear anything
‘ Iyou may have to say; in this transaction you
“ ave made a mistake. You are too sensible, I
{trust not to have discovered by this time that
fygiu ave acted both foolishly and wickedly.
! on have committed a crime which cannot
beneﬁt you in the least. At ‘present it is only
'known to ourselves and to the wretched crea-
tures whom you used as tools. Allow me to
return to my hotel, avoid me for the future,
and I will believe that you are sincerely sorry
for the error into which you have been led.”

“Certainly, that is my intention,” the major
hastened to say, although he hadn’t the slight-
est intention of doing anything of the kind; so
he continued: “Will you not have the kindness
to be seated?” and-he waved his fat hand, jew-
eled heavily with diamond rings toward the
easy-chair. “You'have no idea how much it
distresses me to see you stand.”

“ Not more than it does me to know that I am
here and compelled to listen to you,” the girl
coldl replied.

“ ell, a willful woman must have her way,
says the proverb,” he returned. “I do not
blame you for being particular; of course I
know enough of your professional life to be
aware that there are a great many trials and
temptations connected with it, and that a
woman upon the stage cannotbe too careful,
but I be to assure you that my intentions are
strictly onorable.”

“ One would judge otherwise from this high-
handed attempt upon my liberty,” the girl re-
plied, bitterly.

The major bowed low as if smarting under
the re roof.

“ hat could I do?” he exclaimed. “Put
yourself in my place, I beseech you! You were
a lady with whom it seemed impossible to be-
come ac uainted in the usual way. Madam
Pond in t ekindest manner possible volunteered
to procure me an introduction, when she heard
me expross a wish to make our acquaintance
but you wouldn’t have it! hat on earth coul
I do, except to give up the attempt or else pro-
cure the introduction in some other way. To
give up, I may say, candidly and without

ting, is not in my nature. I am what is
called a self-made man; what I am I owe to my-
self; mighty little assistance have I had in m
battle of hfe and now that I am where I am.
confess I look back with peculiar pride upon the
uphill ﬁght which I have made, and won.”

The major swelled out pompous] with his
boost, but a wearied look appears! upon the
features of the girl. Beyond all power of ex-
pression she loathed this man.

“ But now allow me to introduce myself,” he
continued. '
acquainted with me, but my name and fame,
such as it is, no doubt are foreign to our ears.
Major Leander Clutterbuck is a name t at counts
for something in this town of Cincinnati. I am
wealthy—rich enough to purchase anything in
this world which can be bought. This is my coun-

try mansion which I occupy in the summer;
arerceive it is furnished with .

time; as you will
the utmost care.

meat I had in my mind’s eye the pro
that one of these days I might be fortunate
enough to ﬁnd a lady who would suit the

hen I ﬁtted up this establish-

boyhood I have had in my mind's eye, but
‘ until I saw you no woman has ever reached the
high standard which I had set up in my mind;
but you—you are my very ideal! I am satisﬁed
that with you I should be so remer ha) y.
This is my excuse for this bod action. llgou
would not allow me tomake your acquaintance-
I could not woo you in the usual fashion, an

only by some bold stroke ('0qu I hope to gain
speech with you at all. Will you overlook the
act and forget the rashnees of the deed in con-
sideration of the motive? As my wife I may
say without exaggeration or ﬂattery that few
women in the country will be better situated.
‘ It is my intention to run for Congress this next
ielection. The wires are all laid now to secure

 
the nomination for me, and in my district a r

I nomination by my party is just about the same
, as an election; we a ways carry the district b
:four to six thousand majority, so that
Imost anybody is sure to be elected if nomi-
nated; even an unpopular man would be
" retty certain to go in, and I ﬂatter myself
, but am very far from bein unpopular, in
[ fact, I reckon that any one wou d have to hunt
. round right smart all through this State to ﬁnd
a man as popular as I am. Of course after I
:am elected shall have to go to Washington.
I Now, as I have plenty of money, it is my am-

“Of course by sight you are well :

bability .

ideal which since the struggling days of my '

‘ ‘Cometo me in seven days from now :
. you shall be answered.”

l in the puddle. I calculate to have as handsome
‘ a house as money can buy. None of your rent-
i ed concerns for me! I will buy it out and out
i and then I will furnish it up in a style that will
1 make people open their eyes—yes, the best of
‘ them. From the President downward there
I won’t be a man in the ca ital who will put on
L the style that I will; I’ll ave a French cook,
; lay in my wines across the water, and give a
1 spread that will astonish even the forei n em-
! bassadors, and I tell you what those oreign
fellows know how tolive! All that I lack is a
woman like yourself to do the honors of the
mansion. Just consider for a moment—reﬂect
and think of the difference between the position
you now occupy—the vagabond life of a stroll-
ing player, and the wealth, ease and luxury
that offer. Now you exhibit yourself nightly
to any one who can raise the money to pay the
admittance fee; you are exposed to humilia-
tions and insults, and you can’t avoid them, for
the stagecplayer is more or less public property,
while as my wife you will occupy a position
second to no woman in this land, clear from
the stormy Atlantic to the golden shores of the
Paciﬁc; you will be the envy of all your ac-
quaintances. 1 sha’n’t restrict you in your
spendingI-money; you shall have all you want;
and all want is to have you dressed better
than any woman you will meetfan wheres. I
want people to turn around and 100 after you
as you roll b ’em in your carria e and say,
‘ That’s Mrs. ajor Clutterbuck—Cﬁmgressman
Clutterbuck from Ohio; she’s got the nest dia-
monds of any woman in the country.’ That is
my little game! that is what I am after; so
now, what do on say? Come! I don’t pretend
that I’m over and and ears in love with you
because I am too old a man for such be -fool
nonsense, but I have taken a very strong iking
for you, and I am willing to put up my money
on you. Can a man say more?”

CHAPTER XXVIII.
AN amnion!) ARRIVAL.

Ox: thin puzzled the politician; the actress
had listene to his explanation without betray-
ing approval or dissent. The face of a marble
statue could not have been less expressive, and
therefore he waited for her answer with feverish
impatience.

‘ You have said all that you have to sa ?”
she observed, her rich voice round and full ut
utterly devoid of emotion.

“Yes, all; it would be folly even for an ex-
perienced orator to attempt to persuade such a
woman as you are against her convictions. I
am too wise toattempt such athing,” the major
replied, with a very gallant bow. “I have
stated my case as strongly as I could and am
content to leave the rest to your excellent Judg.
t ment.” .

‘ “It is a wei hty step, and one that lures
; deliberation,” mpassively and mechanica y.
“Of course: certainly; take all the time you
! like. A month if you choose, but I pray you
‘ not to kee me in suspense any longer than you
can help,’ the major re oined, yet far from
feeling really pleased. “ his .house and all it
contains argdvours. You have but to command
to be obey ,and your most willing servant
will be my humble self. I am not ﬁtted exactly
to play the rcle of the anxious lover. but
assure you I shall be on thorns until you come
to a decision, which I hope and trust Will be a
favorable one. ” _

“Such an offer should not be either lightly
declined or accepted,” the rl returned. “ For
such a woman as I am to favored with an
offer to become the wife of such a man as you
are, is, of course an honor for which one can-
' not be too teful.”

The gent eman certainly was obtuse as far a.
! women were concerned, but, bull-headed as he
was, it struck him that there was a double
meaning to the girl’s words—a scornful mug in
her voice.

i He concealed his apprehension, though, and
‘ hastened to re ly:

’t ook at it in that way; you have
beauty, grace, intelligence style, a hundred
things that go to make the perfect woman,
‘ while I have only wealth and ition to offer,
‘ and if ou accept I shall consider that I have
by far be best of the bargain.”

“ I shall not require a month to make up my

‘ 7’

 
O
5:-
n.
o
z:

“I 'am glad of it.”
“ A sin le week will do.”
“ Mixes ell, I am really delighted to hear you
80 y
id

“1 shall count the very minutes!” F r a

 
AN AMBITIOUS GIRL.

.lc.l“ a -

23

 
rou hand'tou hman of the world the major
wasgdcing bragvely—in fact, playing the lover

tion.
“33:39:: day ” Miss Bell repeated, and then
she looked towar the5 door by which she had
then rtmen .

en'Itéififdmajor’lsmeyes followed the lance, but he
did not exact] understand what 5 e meant.

“ Be pleasedyio open the door, then, so that I

depart.”

maths words fairly took the breath from the
waoer, for theneg suspicion at once came over
him that the actress was not quite the marble
statue he had taken her to be, and that, as he
had tricked her in his way, she had made up her
mind to trick him in return.

“ Oh, no; that isn t the understandin l" he
cried, when he had in a measure recovers him-

self.

“\Vhat understanding?” and the young ac-
tress looked at the man with an inscrutable
expressmn.

“ W by, you are to remain here until you come
to a drcision.”

‘ Yes, and when the decision is made?”

“ by, we will be married, of course, and go
at once on our wedding tour. We will have
a private Wedding, because I don’t like a fuse
kicked up about such things. We can do our
displaying afterward."

‘ Ve true; but on assume that I will con-
sent. u , on the contrary, with the will-
fulness 04 women, I should refuse!”

Obtum as was the politician he could not
help noticing the scorn now fully apparent in
the girl’s voice. He was annoyed-amin
fact, now that he realised the girl h n

laying with him. She had not refused his of-
¥er at once because she wished to escape from her
present ungleasant position. A spirit of revenﬁe
came u his heart, and he men :
“Whet er you consent or refuse, I kee
you here for awhile, my beauty and see if
cannot tame this devil that is in you." His
face, though, did not betray the rage which was
gnawing at his heart.

“ Ah es, of course; that is only natural, you
know, 0 replied. “A man always believes
that will occur which he wishes to come to pass,
and that is the reason why I am willing to give
you a month to make up your mind. on may
refuse to suit today, reject it a week hence,
two wee s and your mind may not change,
three weeks and on still hold fast to your ﬁrst
opinion, but, on t e fourth, you may a tor—giou
may conclude to accept what you have stea ly
refused before.”

“ You will keep me here a month, then,
whether I will or no!” and the color be u to
rise in the girl’s face, and her eyes to sh as
she ut the question. .

Tige abductor saw that a storm was at, hand,

' but he dared not now yield.

. “ Miss Bell, I know you will probably be an-
, but I am a truthful man, and since on
ave asked me a plain question, it is but ht
that I should ve y0u a plain answer,» and
the major swe led out quite pom usly as he
spoke. “ I feel sure that in a man , if you m
not guided or swayed by bad advisers, on will
be willin to accept the p i whic I have
had the inner to make. on will be um-
fortable here as you could possibllybe in an
spot in the wide world: your very ightest wig
will be aspoteutas themngesteommnnd; you
will be’s'ecure from £11 interruption; I myself
will not intrude upon am, unless you request
in rescues; you will free to make up your
mfns without being biased by any one, and I
am conﬁdent that in a month you win mm
to be mine.”

“Not in one month—not in ten thousand
months!” cried the girl, her anger at last flam-
ing forth. “ Man, have you no fear of the law
that you dare to outrage it in this manner!
Think of the punishment that will overtake you
when the truth becomes known, as it soon will
be, for I have  who will not ﬂag in their
search for me

“M dear ‘r there isn’t the slighm (km

0 an bogy overing you ham, 1 h".
girl my p altogether too cautiously to, my
omtogetuponmytrmhandithssem‘
pretty penny, too I assure you; not that I
grilliid I he mono tif it'sl’lccwdl mwlnning you,

c am sure .
w“ You mwrong; itwill not 1” Helen returned.
“ I am not a dog to be bought and sold by any
man! No matter how rich you an, or what
£9“ 3:9, 01! cannot buy me, soon my

ien

cometothe rescue.
“My dear child, I repeat—there isn't the

sl' htest danger of that!”
' Iflout, even at that ver moment, the Skinning
of the secret door cave t she to his we a

 
The rescuer had come!

CHAPTER XXIX.
TRICK 103 Truck.
THROUGH the secret door two rsons had en-
temd. the apartment—the house ee r, and be-
hind her came the young actor, rdon Mal-

ory.

A scream of joy escaped from the girl’s 1i
when she beheld the handsome face of t e
young man; she understood that her ril was

now at an end; but, as for the politician, his ;

rage knew no bounds. Although as a rule self-
possessed and rarely losing control of himself,
yet on the resent occasion, so surprised and en-
raged was e at the unexpected intrusion, that
he ﬂew into the most violent passion, growing
almost scarlet in the face.

“ Well, sir, what is the meaning of this!” he
cried. “ IVho in blazes invited you to enter
this house? Do ou know where you are, you
impudent puppy This is my house. do on un-
derstand! and am not in the habit 0 enter-
atiniiig uninvited guests; so the quicker you get
out the better. And you ”-and he turned,
ﬁercely, to the housekeeper—“ what mearth do
you mean by letting this rascal into the house?”

“ It wasn’t my fault; I couldn’t help it,” re-
sponded the woman, angrily, and looking dag-
gers at the other as she spoke. ,

“ Not your fault i" roared Clutterbuck, in a
fearful rage—“ the biases it wasn’t! You ought
not to have let him in.” .

“How could I hel myselfl—how could I
ignov:”that he was hi outside the kitchen

oor.

“ Why didn’t you call for andstancel” and as
he spoke the major glared at the intruder in
such a we as to nfer that if she had called out
he would ave come and made it particularly
warm for him.

“ How could I call out when he ut a knife at
my throat and threatened to sta me if I ut-
tereda word, and if on don’t believe me just
look at my throat. on can seewith your own
eyes where the skin is cut.” And the woman
pointed to her neck where, sure enough, there
was ﬁnite an ugly scratch.

“ e blame should restpn my shoulders, sir,”
Mallo remarked; “I must give this woman
credit or doing her best to keep me out and to
refuse me information after I got in.”

“ And now, sir that you are in, you will
oblige me by walking out!” the major cried,

roughly. I
“ Certainl air that is exactly what I am
in to do,’ 'Mallory rejoined, very polite y.

“ iiss Bell oblige me by putting on your things
and we will depart." '

“ Oh, no, you will not i" the politician cried,
hotly, his rage breaking out-afresh. “ You can
get out yourself, and the quicker the better, but
as for this lady she Willremain here.”

“ No, I will not!” the girl exclaimed upon the
instant. “I will not remain a single moment
longer in this house than I can help. Ihave
been the victim of a terrible plot, and this
wretch here is to blame. Take me away at
once ‘I implore ou.” '

“ on near w at the lady sa s; she does not
desire to remain and now w1 you have the
kindness to unlock the door yonder-I presume
under the circumstances that it is. locked—so
that we can depart by the front door! Although
I made my entrance through the garden, yet it
is not exact] the way for a lad to take.’

“ You ed the wall and roke into my
house like a robber and a thief as you are, you
villain l’

6‘ I always told you that you ought to have a
con is of good dogs, and then the would have
ma e mince-meat out of this fe ow,” snarled
the woman. ‘

“Dogs wouldn‘t have kept me out if you had
a dozen!” Mallory assured. “ And, as the mat-
ter is, on may thank your luckg stars thatI
have c osen to come quietly all y myself, to
settle this matter instead 0 calling upon the
police authorities. ”

“Well I really admire your im dencel Do
you think the word of a man if e yourself, a
vagabond actor, would for a single instant have

In w ht t a ntleman of my statIOn
inzocizitgvi” the gajor swelled out like I
tur cock.

“Gve me no more of our airs andinso-
lencel" cried the yo r in a sudden out-
burst of passion, ‘ or 1 will mm to
the difference in our years, and W“ I
the throat I will shake some of our im udenco
out of oul” And as he spo e, 017 Od'
vanced n such a threatening way that, 1%
his assurance, the major retreated in 00 or-
able alarm.

 
'terv'iew with this man. - With my

I; 1: 2d violence, Gordon, for my sake l” the girl
9 “Shalllcallfor the police?" cried the woman.
The politician winced at the suggestion; he
had no use for policemen under the present cir-

cu‘msmm df th 11 m t1 "G

‘ sen or e 'ce n or-
don named to add. ‘ on can givey’me in
charge, on know, for darin to enter your

house thout {our perm' on, and at the
same time this ady can have you arrested on
the charge of abduction—a State’s Prison of-
fense. ‘

“ That accusation is easily enou h disposed of,
young man i" the major rejoinedg, with a great
deal of d ity. “I am ready to swear under
oath that had nothing to do with the lady’s
visit here. I did not bring her, nor did she even
come b invitationof mine. She entered this
house 0 her own free will, as this lady will tes-
tify,” and he waved his fat hand, pompously,
toward the housekeeper.

“It is as true as Gospel!” the woman de-

clared.

“ And yet, altogether it is as false as false
can bel” the actrem cri “Iamthevictim of
a deep-laid and mnningeplot. I was decayed
to this house and have n detained here as a
prisoner against my will by this man, as I can
force the scoundrel to admi ”

“We are onlny wasting time in ta ”
Mallory observ “ You see, sir, that the y
does not wish to remain under your roof, and
as for myself—”

“ You can go to the devil!” cried the major,
in a rage. ~

“ I am very much obliged for kind per-
mission even if I do not avail in self of it, but I
should really hesitate to trou e an of your
friends even at 'our invitation; an now the
key of the door, f you please.”

“I will see you hanged ﬁrstl” growled the
bafﬂed man.

“Well, we will descend by this secret stair-
way then, and I have no doubt that we will be
able to find our way out.”

“Que moment i” cried the major, abruptly,
town to the girl, determinedto try one last
agpealg; “before you go I should like to have
t e privilege of speaking a few words with ou
in private. Yen will not object to this, sir, I
presume, if the lad wishes it!” and he turned
to Mallo as he as ‘ed the tion.

“ No s ; the lady’s wishes are as law to me.
If it is her pleasure for me to retire I will do so,
on the instant.”

“ No, no!” cried the girl. “I do not wish you
to leave me; I do not wish to have a private m-
own free will
I care not to speak a word to him either in
public or private. I am sure he a base-

earted, coarse-minded villain.”

The contemptuous scorn so plainly a parent
in both the girl’s face and voice stung the poli-
tician to the quick, even more than her words.

“ Very well! very well!" he remarked, on-
deavoriug to appear indifferent. “If the lad
has tired of Orgy protection after a single nigh ,
well and g ; I suppose I have no right to
complain; women are notoriously fickle but I
am sure you will be sorry for it, Miss helen.
Just think over what I have said—the brilliant
prospect I unfolded before you, and reﬂect upon
the golden future which you are turning your
back upon.” ‘ '

“ Your words are useless,  I S“: you my
answer; I scorn, I hate. 131091189 5"?“

“ take time toconsider—” A

“Wi 'you allow me," in mm.
“to observe sir, that-your detaining the y
in ca tivity here so that she may have time to
thin the matter over is a highly criminal act!
It youhad a grain of sense would under-
stand that on are taking precise wrong
wath achaegie”suoceu, if you reallywish to
win or

“Yourmagdvich was not asked!”

“Under the air-cumulus I tender it all the
same, though, butifyouarewearyofmypres.
once as I have no doubt you are, simply un—
10¢ka that door both myselfand ladywill

depart."

Remember, Kiln, it is our last lﬁance l”
thema exclaim , utterlykn t
actor; 13;“ will not get snot em asan
concerned. When you quit this house all is
ended between us.”

“ Youare an ignorant brute,~sir, and all your
wealth cannot cover up the grouness of your
‘3” door 32d allgjw me to

or.” mas, n ry in gnation.

‘Oh, yonarearegular tragedy ueen, but I
will and a way to be avenged for i this,” the
politician retorted, scarlet with passion, and

 
2?

then he drew the key from his pocket and throw
it down upon the ﬂoor. “There‘s the ke ,” he
cried, “ but I teﬂ you what it is—I will nd a
way to make both of you repent the hour when
you dared to brave me 1”

“You infernal old villain! I’ve half a mind
to hammer you within an inch of your life i”
flamed out the young actor, all the manhood in
his veins roused into action b ' the insulting
words. “Pick up that key an hand it to me
like a gentleman. '

“ No, hang ire if I will i”
In a moment the strong bands of the actor

 
clutched the politician by the throat; the house- "

keeper screamed for help, and the actress beg-
ged the angry man to desist.

The ma 'or “ weakened,” hOWever, the instant
he found imself in the steel like grasp of the
other.

“ For Heaven’s sake don’t choke me!” he beg-
ged, humbly. “Release me and I will pick up
the key.”

“Do so and on the instant!” the actor com-
manded, sternly. He removed his hands, and
the major hastened to pick up the key, and gave
it, althou h with great reluctance indeed, into
Mallory’s and.

“And now get out i" exclaimed the con-
queror, threateningly.

 
CHAPTER XXX.
TURNING Tun TABLES.

WITH :1 very ill gram, indccd, the major and
the housekeeper, his Willing tool, retreated
throu h the secret door, and left the young
actor 11 ssion of the ﬁeld.

Never ad a rescuer come more opportunely
and never had the insolent man of money and
“ inﬂuence ” been more thoroughly discomﬂted,
and as he descended the secret stairs he swore
in a manner which was really shocking.

Benton and bﬂlacd he thirsted for vengeance
and he swore by all that was had in this worl
that he would not rest until he had full measure
of revenge, no matter how rest the cost. Al-
ready his mind was at wor , anxiously seeking
a plan by means of which he mi ht vent his
hatred, and before he had reach the end of
the short ﬂight of stairs an idea had come into
his mind which, if carried out in the proper
manner, seemed likely to give him most sweet
and ample revenge.

“ It will dol” he cried. gleefully, much to the
astonishment of the mystiﬁed and fri rhtened
woman, who had been forced, despite crself,
-to prove false to her trust, to reveal the secrets
of the house, to conduct the assailant u the
stairs, and thus at one fcllswoop upset the abric
of her master’s carefully-laid lans. She had
not yielded until she had felt t 0 very point of
the steel actuall scratching her throat, and
ﬂrml believed t at her life would have been
sac cod by the desperate man in his blind
fu if she had not consented to do as he
wi ed—to lead him to the room occupied by

“Yes yes it will do!” the major repeated.
“And it will be a terrible revenge, too, al-
th h it will cost me a deuced sigh of money,
buguig will stab this proud and haughty hussy
where she will feel the blow the keenest—in her
reputation, and she will leave this house with
mohauain u n her character that she will
chor dare to old up her head in the so-
ciety of decent people. Even t women of
uncerhin character will point the finger of
shame at her, for I will blazon her dishonor to
all the world; as far abroad will it flyas the

Rorspaper press on fin mighty wings can carry

The housekeeper looked at her master in as-
tonishment; he seemed to bar to be ravin , for
never before had she seen him so terrib y ex~
‘ cited, but it was anger and not madness which

ruled the hour. '

“Quick! lock all the doors in the house and
b motheksyasothatitwill beadiﬂicult
ob or them to get outl” he commanded. “ If

can only succeed in detaiplii‘iﬁ them here a
brief quarter of an hour, I trium h over
the girl after all, though not exactly in e way
that I intended, but since I cannot attain suc-
cess, I will be content with vengeance!”

The woman hastened to obey the command,
and in a ve few minutes all the keys of the
lower part 0 the house were in the politician’s
pomession, and all means of escape by the doors
were cut 01; the windows were ded b
stout blinds, well secured on the me Wit
padlocks. Thecoun house being only occu-
pied by the ms in t summer-time was now
all shut up an prepared for the winter, and
these extra fastenings were designed to prevent

any felonious entry by evil-minded persons on
plunder intent.

l Brie ythe

 
.AN_ AMBITIPUSJH’RL-

 
“ Now if they get out of here inside of twenty
minutes they wi be smarter than I think thev
are l” the house-owner exclaimed as he and his
companion passed tbron h the back door and
1 he carefully locked it a ter them. " And in
‘ twenty minutes’ time I will explode a mine be-
! neath their feet, the result of which will make
both of them curse the hour when they ran
r across my track.”
v Then, away through the garden and out upon

3 the road in hot haste hurried the hair. No time f

1 CHAPTER xxxr.
I A SURPRISING ACOUSATION.
i

l

l

‘ was to be lost, for the two would be sure to en- ;

‘ dcavorto get out as soon as possible.
And while this had been trans iring down-
? stairs the rescued and the rescuer E
,‘ Chang! conﬂdences in the upper apartment.
oung actor e
be happened 0 come so time y to her aid and,
as He
strumc'nt.

g Mallory loved the young actress, although cer-

tain circumstances prevented him from press-
in his suit; he loved the girl, whom be bad
he ped to place upon the stage, and like all lov-
ers he kept a jealous eye upon her.

The 0 n and undisguised attentions of the
old polit cian had not escaped his watchful eyes;
hence when Helen’s unaccountable disappear-

suspectcd the major’s interest in the matter,
since common report made the olitician more
unscrupulous and regardless o consequences
than he really was.

house Malloryhad procured the most of his in-
formation, and learned of the politician’s coun-
try house out .on the ’pike and such a house,
shut up and isolated, Ma lory naturally sur-
mised would be the most likely place for the
major to carry his prize if he had planned the
abduction, for that the girl had been abducted
the young actor had little doubt. So he set out
for the retired mansion, taking the precaution
to arm himself beforehand.

He found the house without difficulty, and
scaling the back garden wall gained admittance
to the grounds.

Can tiousl he tried the back doors of the house
On] to ﬂu them fastened. He had proceeded
wit extreme care for be had no doubt that the'
rascals des‘ rate enough to carry off the girl,
would not esitate to fire at him, under the ex-

marauder.

Finding all the doors fastened, he camped
down for the night in one of the numerous sum-
mer-houses which adorned the elaborately laid-
out grounds. . . ,,

In the morninglhe laid in ambush close to the
kitchen-door ri tly thinking that if any one
came from the case that would be the most
likely ortal for them to use. And he succeeded
beyon his expectations, for, instead of a man
he had captured the housekeeper—with what
success the reader has seen.

And while explanations were regressing, the
actress was hurrying on her th gs, anxious to
leave the place where she had through
such an unpleasant experience. Inafew mo-
ments she announced herself read to depart.

“Itisal walkto tbecity,” nory said,
as he esco her from the apartment. The
means of ogrem were eas enough now, thanks
to the ke which he  compelled the major
to sari-en .

“ Iam so to escape from this dreadful
place that I would face a ten-mile Walk with
gladness,” she replied.

Mallo had not bargained with the old scouri-
drel for t e key of the front-door, for, of course,
he had sung that it would be in the lock,
and wasas nished upon reaching the door to
discover that the key was one.

A su icion that the struggle was not yet
ended bed upon the young actor’s mind, and

ad been ex- ,

ained how it was ‘

ance was made known to him by Sara Pearl he ‘

From the police oﬂlcer in front of the opera- '

cuss that, they supposed he was a midnight i

en suspected, Sara Pearl had been t in- 1'

 
i i

 
when he came to examine the other doors which
led from the mansion, and made the unwelcome .
discovery that every one 01 them was fastened 1
against egress, he began to believe that mischief
mail was intended.

that all the windows were padlocked—showing,
conclusively, that the design was to force them

But Mallory, guick to not, announced that he
would force 0 one of the window padlocks,
but was not allowed to put his plan In open-

 
fell upon his ears. Then the

by a stalwart policeman. i

/

 
‘ a ainst
, I qI‘he ' 1 never took the
both to remain, for a while at least, in the house. , remarE."

Ir was a tableau of astonishment; genuine on
the part of the actor and actress and the two
policemen, and well affected by the major.

Mallory could not, for the moment, com re-
hend what the scoundrel was up to—wba he
meant by callin upon the authority of the law
in the shape of t e two ofﬁcers, for, of all men
in the world, after his rascally exploit on the
preceding night, he should have been the last
person to introduce the guardians of the law.

A moment the partiesstared at each other;
then the major is kc: .

“ My information was correct then it seems;
I have had the honor of visitors without know-
ing anythin about it,” he remarked—a speech
which gave allorv a clewto the situation, and
the shrewdness o the dod e rather amused
him, for not the least idea id he have that it
would work.

One of the policemen thought it necessary to
put in a remark at this point:

“ Upon me worrud,” he observed, with a ﬁne
rich “ broguc" almost thick enough to be cut
with a knife, “ it‘s the bouldest thin that I
iver heerd tell on, and I’ve been on the orce for

tin ears.”
“ ight cheeky thing, young man ” said the
other, wit a knowing shake of tbe’head, ad-

dressing the remark tc Mallory.

“ What do you mean, airs?” demanded the-
young actor. hotly.

“ As a fri’nd, I warn ye not to say too much
or it may be used ag’inst yees,” replied the
Irishman.

“ Yes, keep a still tongue in your head, you
will find that it is always best in such cases as
this in the long run,” observed the other orna-
ment to the “ orce. ’

“ The proof of their guilt is clear and I make \

a charge against them; do your duty, oﬂcersl”
eXclaimed the ma'or, sternly.

The two men a vanced a step; Gordon drew
back and assumed such a. threatening attitude
that the den hty policemen instantly drew
their clubs, while the major chuckled. It would
have done his heart good to have seen the

, young actor offer resistance and the two of-

cers batter him with their “locusts” in
resence of the woman before whom he had
en humiliated.
The girl, however, who had looked u n this
strange scene With wondering eyes, has nod to

j interfere.

“For my sake, Mr. Mallory, do not attempt
to offer any resistance to these men; they are
robably actin in the line of their duty, al-
hough evidengly laboring some mis'
take.
“Right ye are, miss! doo , miss, that is
phat we are aftber doing the time!” ex-
claimed the Irishman, ducking his head in a
sort of a clums attempt at a bow for, though

a low, dull fel ow he could not bel being im-
ressed by the baa-lit Of the rl. “ t not the
Fasttasteofamista eisit; byeesthatdobe

aftber making a mistake, whin a take this n-
tleman’s house for a.hotel,'an do be in ng
erselves at home in it widout the
{rouble to ask his lafe or license."
Gordon now understood the nature of the
charge which was to be h ht against them
and e smiled, contemptuously. II he thought
how (giddy such an acme!!! accusation
could disposed of if the r was crazy on.
o b to attempt to it.
nd for the first 'me, too Helen understood
what it all meant, and smiled, scornfully, when
she reﬂected how easily she could sweep the ac-
cusation awa when brought before the prop:
authorities, a though she really did not
lieve that the politicum would dare to go as far
as that.
“ Do I understand correctly?” Gordon asked;
“has this man made a char against me, and
do you intend to take me in custcd f”
‘ Both of yees, young fellow; it’s e pair of

; you that we are aftber.”

“I regret, miss, that I am obliged to put a

A urried examination then disclosed the fact  lady in peril, but I must protect my property
6P

redation " the ms or o rved.
test notice of the

“We have a coach outside and we kin all 0
nice and quiet to the police-0mm and nob y

i be the wiser,” the other oﬂcer remarked; “so

tion, for, just as he was about to do so, the , if you win beso liteastoconie alongwitb us
gratin sound of a key being inserted in the l we’ll beobliged y ”
col; 0 the front-door and turnin in the wards i Five minutes after

the whole We” in,
oor swinging or on: the coach, and being driven rap y to the
open, revealed the major, ﬂanked on both sides ‘ police-ofﬁce.

 
Tow—:1, -W ~.~:..I.—~

m

 
25

 
CHAPTER XXXII.
A naru'rArion anaemia.
01 course the coach rolling through the
streets attracted no icular attention, 91.
though a few people w 0 were acquainted With

clan were somewhat astonished at be-
lilhl ' litlillm ed up upon the box of the
hack on of the driver.

the ice court the part were ushered
inatthe pprgsleme of the presiding udge who
had just taken his seat to proc With the
morning work. _ ‘

The entrance of the party created a little i1p«
ple of excitement, for the ma' r was about as
well knownas any man in t a town and the
young actress, during her brief stay in Porko-
polis, had managed to create quite a sensation,
and therefore, when she and her male compan-
ion entered the court-room in the custod of of—
ficers, evidently as prisoners char ed wit some
offense, and the major follow in the rear
with the look of an taccuser upon his face, ex-

tation was upon ip-toe. _
pe’fl‘he officers conducted their prisoners to the
prison-pen, where a herd of ragged, dmi “I?
savory wretches were alread I gathe -§ 9
vile fish who had been sc00pe in by the P0 ‘39
nets on the previous evening.

But, although a hot ﬂush swept .over the face
of the oung actor as he and his compiling?l
were p ed in the same com. em ‘7‘],
these wretched pariahs of society. the dsirhs
natural dignity never deserted her» a,“ 3 9
seemed totally oblivious of the disgusnng [1113'
ture of her surrouan and when a misem 6.
blear-eyed old man, st laboring under the in-
ﬂuence of his last night’s debauch, moved along
on the rude bench so as to give her room she
thanked him as politely as though he had been
the greatest gentleman in the land and she the
poorest and humblest beggar. _ h

The presiding judge betrayed considerable as-
tonishment when this unexpected ir of cul-
prits made their appearance, and ooked.curi-
ously at the major as if to ask what_it _all
meant. U n entering the court the politician
had nodd to the presiding ofﬁcial with the air
of an old friend. .

' This judge, as the major well knew, was a
disgrace to the court wherein he sat—a petliiy
contemptible partisan, who as a lawyer wo d
not have been able to earn ten dollars a .week,
but, thanks to our peculiar system, which dra
the judicial ermine through the mire of 
tics, his ascent to a judgeship had been easy.

And no man had a better hold on him than
Major Clutterbuck, therefore, in deference to
his “patron,” he called the case at once. '

A plain, st tforward story the politician
told, and thoug both the accused knew full
well how utterly false was the tale, yet the
were really astonished at the air of tru h whic
he contrived to impart to it. .

He had a country-house out on the “ ike,”
the major said, very sumptuoust ﬂ and
with a great many valuable articles in it. The
house he had closed for the winter and it was
unoccupied. During the previous week he had
been warned by a certain party the he had
better keep his eyes upon his propert s one of
the actors attached to the 0 rs house across the
Rhine h d said that it won d be a, deuced good
joke to get into his—the major s—house. and
raid the wine-cellar, it being a well-known fact
that he had about the ﬁnest stock Of Winks 0‘
any man in the country. Of course he had not
taken any particular notice of this. “linkan
that it was merely an idle joke. only ‘18 hm
made n his mind to warn the oﬂlcer in charg‘i e
of the istrlct, and request him '0 keep 8 Vdgié
lant eye upon the premises. He had “0’11 e
the performance at this same open house
where the youn man was pinyin! Who Md
suggested the raid u his Wine-cellar, “10 r9-
vious night, and a r the entertainment ad

:1 driven to his haul. He bid no to bed,

t at an early hour in the mo ng hail been
awakened by one of the hotel servants With the
intelli ence that a hackman desired to see him
upon  business and must have an in-
terview at ones. He had granted the r nest
and upon meeting the man was inform by
him that he had driven a lady to a lonely house
he, and after she had got out she
and said she did not need his ser.
vices angoluonger. At ﬁrst he had not thought
much a t the matter, but as he drove off
he noticed that the lad remained upon the
stoop and did not attem to enter mansion -
the place. 1300, was all closed up, not a gleam of
light showing—locum as if it was totally de-
serted. As he had d ven back to the city in
the rain he had re upon the singular mt.
ter. and then it ﬂashed uoon him that he had

out on the
had paid

 
A—o

 
AN iii/[BITIOUS ,GIRL.

once heard that the house belonged to Major

Clutterbuck, and that nobody ever lived there
except in the summer time. course there
might not be anything in it, but he thought it
wouldn’t be an'rvbharm to come and speak about
the matter. e major then went on to say
that his suspicions were exczted, for the driver
had informed him that he had taken the lady
from the back door of the opera house across
the Rhine, the.same theater where the youn

man was employed who had thought it won]

be a good idea to raid his wine'cellar. He
had roceeded instantly _to ascertain if the
raid

door was opened this man and woman were
discovered in the hall, reparin to go out and
evidently havmg passed the rug t there in com-

an .
p Bg’ldly and broadly the major made this
statement and now for the ﬁrst time both Mal-
Ior and the young actress understood the ter-
rib 6 nature of the revenge which the man had
planned. He desired to last the reputation of
the girl forever, for, of course, all the details of
the trial would be ublished, for your “local
reporter ” is a ho who licks hungry lips at
bare thoughts 0 such a feast as this would be.

The very walls seemed to swim before the
outraged irl’s glazed e es; her lips were

ched; t ebreath came 0t and heavy, and
if she did not swoon upon the instant it was be-
cause her ﬂrm, indomitable will was stronger
than her weak nature, and kept her up.

As for the young actor. t e veins upon his
temple swelled out near to burstin as be com-

rehended the full force of the fou accusation.

ith great diﬁcult be restrained himself from
springing up and i enouncing the ﬁendish lie,
but he knew that his turn would come next to
tell the story, and that would put rather a dif-
ferent face upon the matter.

But the major wound up by sa that the
hackman, who had driven the l y ,in the
coach, was in court, and was prepared to us.
tify, also, that the young man who had warned
him l\hat a raid was to be made upon his win
cellar, would give his evidence.

Then came the hackman—the very same who
had helped to play the shameful trick upon the
girl; she recognized him in an instant—and he
smacked his lips on the Bible, and swore to the
outrageous lie as though it had been all gospel
truth.

And the man who followed him the girl re-
cognized immediately, also; it was the s abby-
genteel ellow who had waylaid them when
she and are. lgearl had emerged from the back
door of the theater, and had nested the favor
of a private interview with ara, thus_giv1ng
the hackman a chance to drive of! With her
without detection.

And this fellow swore as ﬂuently to the con-
versation which he said had occurred between
himself and the young actor Gordon Mallory—
he called him by name as if he had known him
as well as a brother, although Mallory was cer-
tain that he had never set 9 as on the rascal be-
fore. He described how a had met in the
saloon in the front of the t eater, and how,
casually, he had mentioned Major Clutterbuck’s
country-seat, and had remarked that he would
like to turned loose in the wine-cellar for a
little while. The actor at once had manifested
a great interest in the subject, and had ques-
tioned him closely regarding the mansion. He
was weleldposted on the subject, for he had been
employ for a time as the major’s ivate sec—
retary, and, at great length, he he explained
to the other all about the house, nave thinking
that he wanted to know for any ot erreason
than pure curiosigg'; but, upon recalling the
conversation, and 'nking the matter over the
impression had come to him that somethin
more than mere curiosity was at the bottom 05
the matter, and he thought it was only right to
go to the major and explain the whole affair,
which he did.

By the time this fellow
testimony the actor began to see that, thanks
to the un lushing manner in which the hack-
man and the other rascal had sworn to their
story, the major had made out a retty mall
case, and against it he and Miss BeKhad nothing
but their bare word.
The instant the fellow left the stand the
mayor was on his feet again.

‘ Your honor,” he began, “I begin to think
that I have been a little hasty in this matter
but'I didn’t rightfully understand the affair. i
811 of course t at the design of the tree-
rswas to damage my property, but if I

d ‘sup t, as it now a , it was
only a ittle love-affair and not as more "—

got through with his

\

!

and here the rascal beamed smilingly upon the
unhappy couple who ware angry eno to
have strangled him where he stood “w y, I
would not ave called in the aid 0 the law,
but. on the contrary, would have forgiven the
trespass.” _

Here a very audible snicker went round the
court-room, and even the grave face of his
honor, the judge, showed traces of a smile,
while the young actor grew scarlet with rage
and the young girl white with shame.

“ And so if you please, your honor,” said the

; major, in conclusion, “ I have no desire to press

ad taken place, taking two ofﬁcers with 1
him, and the result was that, when the front

 
the complaint.” _ _ .

The judge bowed With beComing gravity; as .
though he was, he 'ct perceived that there was
somethin back 0 all this: but he wanted to
stand wel with the major, who was such a
power in local litics, and he understood that,

or reasons of his Own, the politician wanted the
matter drop .

“ Very well, just as you say; if you do not
care to press the matter I will end the case
right here,” and than he turned to the prison-
ers. “You have got off ver easily indeed;
this gentleman mi t have ma a it very serious
for you if he had c osen to push this thing: and
the next time that you makea love appoint-
ment take my advice and don’t break into a
gentleman’s house. You are discharged. Next
case.”

But. Mallory was on his feet in an instant.
He comprehended the majors game. He had

ven his side of the story; at one fell stroke be

ad blackened the 'ri’s re utation, and by this
clever disposal of t a case ad cut of! all oppor-
 for them to tell their tale.

“\our honor, will you allow me to protest
most respectfully against this disposal of the
case? W e deny this man’s story, and these two
witnesses who have testiﬁed are nothing but per-
jurod liars which we will prove if we are al-

owcd a chance.”

“ What more do you want, young man? You
are discharged i” cried the judge, impatiently.
“ That is just the same as being declared inno-
cent, isn’t it? You are discharged, free to de-
gzrt, sir. Your case in this court is ended.

me, bring u the next case!”

The court—o cers hustled a poor, unfortunate
wretchof a drunksrd forward, and Mallory,
perceiving that the fates were against them
drew the arm of the girl within his own, an
they left the courtroom—the temple of justice,
WW: but what a horrid mockery that appel-
lation had been that day! They had found
on] .the most shocking perversion of justice
wit in its precincts!

Ther proceeded straight to the hotel, the girl
more ke a statue than a living woman.

Sara received them with open arms, but
hardly had the young actress entered the room
than she fainted dead away. The excitement
had been too much even for her brave will.

Sara raised her in her stro arms and placed
her upon the sofa, and while e was endeavor-
ing to revive the fainting girl, Mallory W

all that had taken place.

“Well, there is only one thing to_ be done
DOW,” Sara cried, with that determination which
was so strong a part of her nature; ‘_‘ her char-
acter is utterly ruined, for this terrible affair
will be in all the newspa sure. i “d, “10
world is always ready enough to believe enl of
an actress—only one thing to be done, sir, a’pd
that is for you to do. You must marry her!

 
CHAPTER XXXIIL
NILL nicnxonn AGAIN.

Tn of the oung actor became very
grave, afraideSara lookid at him with an anxious
expression upon her features.

“ You need not hesmate about the matter,
Gordon,” she said; “ 1 know that you love the

l and Heaven knows she loves you, although
5: has never breathed a word in to that
love to me, but I suspected it from amen—in
fact, I do not believe she ever adnntted that
such a on existed even to herself, but the
love is her been all the same: I know it is;
and, Gordon Mallory if you are the man I
think you are, you will restore to this ure soul
the good name that this evil-minded has
contrived to tarnish. And, Gordon, she needs a

rotector. she is not fit for this life of ours. She
s a beautiful girl but she has not got the ‘act’
in her, and she will never make anything on the
stage, despite her face, ﬁgure and voice, if she
stays on the boards until she is gray, I felt
sure of that, long ago, but I hated to as so. It
is the truth, though; take her then, an with a
man’s strong arm guard her from the evils

 
.3,

 
l
which will be sure to follow close upon her foot-
steﬂls if she keeps upon the stage.”

‘ e yrung actor’s head had sunk down upon
his breast, but now he raised it slowly, and look-
ing Sara full in the eye made answer with a
voice trembling with emotion:

“ Sara, I believe you are right—I believe the
girl does care for me; but, there is an obstacle
between us—not one which will prevent us from
being married, but which may rise up and try
to separate us after we are married.”

. “ trike it down i” cried the actress, with an
imperious gesture: “ strike it down and put your
foot upon it! That is the way to triumph over
obstacles. If you can honestly marry this poor -
child—if you are free to wed her, do so in
Heaven’s naniel ‘Let the ceremony take plaCe
at once; everything can be easily arranged, if
you will attend to t, and then a report of your
marriage and a card si ed by you, denouncing
this rascal as a liar an a villain will appear in
the very same newspapers, to-morrow morning ‘
which will contain an account of the dreadfu ,
affair, so that the poison and the antidote will
be taken together. ’

“I will, by Heaven! I will, despite all conse4
quences, no matter what they may be!” be ex-

 
claimed. -

With all the ardor born of a pure and fervent
love the young man told his assion, and, as
Sara had antici iated, at first elen hesitated;
shefeared the 0 er was rompted by generosity
not love—that, in a nob e spirit, Mallor wished
to remove the stain the wily major
trived to fix upon her fair fame.

Earnestly the young lover combated this
idea, and he told t e maid how he had fallen in
love with her in the little New Jersey villagﬁ,
and had loved her ever since, his passion -
creasing with each new day.

At last she consented :—what maiden so coy
as not to yield to love’s soft summons, when the
right man speaks?

And when Sara came back, she perceived
that the young actor had told his “ soft tale and
was a thriving wooer.”

Gordon acquainted her with the news, and
with characteristic decision Miss Pearl declared
that the sooner the union took place the better,
and urged the necessity of haste with so much
fervor that Helen was fa in to consent.

The minister was sent for, and then, in the
presence of Sara, and another witness only, the
pair were married.

But hardly had the clerical gentleman depart-
ed, when, With a scornfnl, forbiddin smile upon
her features, Nell Richmond opened he door and
came stalking into the room. Mallory sprung
at once to his feet, his face white, and a threat-
enin look in his eyes.

He en looked up in amazement, but Sara un-
derstood that the obstacle of which the young
actor had spoken had already arisen, and now
she asked herself the question—would Mallory
follow her advice, strike it down, ut his foot
upon and crush it, and if he attem ted, would
he be able to accom lish the feat?

Panning before elen, Nell Richmond made
her a low courtesy, but it was plainly in mock-

d con-

6 U

I"fo you please, miss, I have come after my
husband.” 3 c said, in the most impudent man-
ner ible.

“ our husband!” and Helen, starting to her
feet confronted the other like a tragedy queen.

“ es, my husband, whom on have Just had
the pleasure of ma ing— at man, Gordon
Mallory l” and she shook her outstretched finger
at that entlcman, but he did not quail in the
least. a had at last made up his mind to
adopt the course which he on ht to have taken
years ago; now he was abou to follow Sara’s
advice confront and beat down the owl spirit
which had troubled him for so long.

The young actress turned her beautiful e es
upon her newly—made husband; she had pe ect
faith that he could explain matters.

“ My husband!” repeated the woman, in the
most spiteful manner possible; “ let him deny!
it if he dares!”

“ Well, I do dare,” the young actor answered,
calmly. “ I am not your husband: ou are not
my wife; on have not the slightest egal claim
on me an . never had.”

“ Were you not married to me, married by a
minister in Chicago just the same as you have
been married to this womantoday?” I

“A marriage ceremony was performed be-
tween us; as a boy I was entrapped by you an
old and artful woman of the wor d, but, ardly
had the ceremony been performed when I was
informed by a woman who was once your
bosom friend, but with whom you had quar-
relcd, that you had a husband in England, and
she showed me a letter from him, in which he
upbruidcd you for vour cruel descrtion. but :

 
-AN. AMBITIQUSWQIRL-

winding up by saying that he was glad that you 

were gone and that he hoped never to see you
again.”
“A lying forgery l” almost shrieked the wo-

man; “you cannot produce that letter and 1
even if you could, you have no proof that it was I

true.”
“Do you challenge me to the contest, then?
Although I have not the letter the name signed

to it is still fresh in my memor n The letter ,

came from London, England. t will be easy
enough to write to London and see if a man still
resides in that city by the name of Jeremiah
Kinlan.”

“Hallo, hallo, who is that a-using my name
so freely?” cried a voice, as a man pushed 0 en
the only partially closed door and came into
the room.

With a cry of anger Nell Richmond clinched
her hands together until the nails fairly cut
into the flesh.

What strange accident had brought this man
clear across the stormy ocean?

 
CHAPTER XXXIV.
mum AND HALAH.
BEHIND this ﬁrst man came a second. The

. attentive reader will probably remember the

two men who, in an early chapter of our tale,

, tracked the blacksmith to his last resting. place
r and then, like bailled sleuth-hounds, nose

around the grave, eager to hit on a fresh trail—
Archibald Posilwaite and Jeremiah Kinlan.
And theyhad found a fresh trail, after a time—
a trailw ich led them from the frozen North to
the sunny South; but it was broken again by a
second grave. This time, hCWOVH‘, there was a
well-defined clew left, so that they could follow
their pursuit rapidly.

The recognition between the woman, Nell
Richmond, and the man, Jeremiah Kinlan, was
mutual.

The blood left her face, the fire her eyes, and
she staggered back, astounded.

And 6 cried out, loudly:

“Why, Sal! If it ain’t Sal, blow my but-
tons!”

Gordon Mallory was quick to improve the op-
portunity.

“This is your wife, Mr. Kinlan, I believe?”

he said. .
“ ell, I don’t want her, sir; I ain’t making
any claim to her; if any other fool has got his
hooks onto her, he can just hold fast for a 1 that
I care,” the man replied. “ She cut her lucky
and hooked it across the herring-pond a good
man years ago, and I have enjoyed peace and
com ort ever since, so I ain’t saying anything if
anybody else wants her.” _

“ You brute! I wouldn’t live with , on again if
you were made of diamonds l” and w th an indig-
nant face, and eyes ﬂashin fire, Nell Richmond
swept from the room, an no one therein ever
saw her a sin.

“ There s a catamaran for you!” the English
detective muttered.

“I don’t wonder ou joined the force.” the
other one exclaimed}: “A woman like that is
enough to make an man des rate-

And, now that t is distur in element was
gone, the two detectives, for bot of them were

amous Scotland Yard men, explained their
business. I

They sought a certain Halah Kunibell, daugh-
ter of Sabban and Rachel Kunlbell.

With a smile the young actress acknowledged
that that was her name. .

And now, not to weary the patience of the
reader, but to “come at once to lleculia,” as
the dashin Miss Pearl would have said, we
will not vs the tiresome explanation of the
detectives each of whom was employed by a
different lawyer, eager to find t o heir and
enjoy the fat pickings which would attend the
care of the vast property left by old Ronald
Kunibell, Halah’s grandfather; a few words tell
the strange story 0‘ the Kunihell family.

Ronald Kunibell. the father of Sabban, had

~ risen by his own exertion from a. poor man to ‘
the possession 01' One of the ﬁnest estates in the i

nort of En land. He was in the iron trade,

and his Va WOI'ks covered acres of groun -

Like many another man who has risen from the ‘

ranks, this self-made iron-merchant was ten

. - his .
times as goudasthough he had inherited t , over; the reality bad .0 the dream

wealth. bban was his only son, and he had Be

his heart upon a marriage between him and the .

daughter of a rather decayed nobleman. who

an estate in the neighborhood but the
son had also a mind of his own, an . to his
father’s rage, he married a pretty, but Pennﬂess

, kee r who ,
girl, the daughtei of a small she!" 023011,.“

welt in the village nearby. This.

 
out into the world to seek his own fortune-
Years named on; two children were born to the
. son, but some sixteen years separated the two;
1 and when the elder girl was about eighteen, she
‘ With all the willfulness which her father had
displayed, chose to fall in love with an Ameri»
can tourist, who chanced to be passin some
time in the neighborhood, despite her father’s
urgent commands never to dare to sprak to
him, for her sire had, in some unaccountable
manner, taken a great dislike to the American.

But, the willfulness was in the blood, and the
girl one night fled from home, married the
1 American, and journeyed with him to his home
across the sea.

The angry father discarded his erring daugh-
ter as thoroughly and utterly as his father,
years before, haddiscarded him. The name of
the disobedient girl was never spoken again in
that household. An as misfortunes never
come singly, just abou that time a strange ﬂt
seized upon old Kum'bell; if he had been a poor
man people Would have called him mad, and
shut him up in a lunatic asylum, but, as he was
so rich, the world said he was “ eccentric,” and
he did as he liked. The peculiar form of his
madness lay in a most violent hatred to his
son, and with almost diabolical cunning he con-
trived all sorts of devices to annoy him, until
at last the rsecution became so great that the
son was oblieved to ﬂy with his family and house-
hold goods; 9 put the sea between him and his
mad parent, but, even when buried, as it were,
in the little country hamlet, he feared lest the
madman should seek him out; and this was the
secret of Kunibell.

But, just before the blacksmith died, the great
iron merchant passed awa . In 1531’» m0-
ments sanity returned, an he strove to repair
his cruel injustice by lea vin all his vast PNP’
erty to the son whose life 9 had imbittered.
The agents, though, who came acrom the sea,
found that the son had only survived his father
, by a few da rs, and then they set out to find the
ll daughter, uda. But, to get upon her track,
1 they had to seek back again to England. There
1 they discovered the name of the tourist who
; had won the g'rl; and in the new world thev

eaSily ran him down - but he Was dead, too, and
his widow, the hapess Hada, a niadwoman;
‘ the insanity was in the family, and would come
‘ out at times. Mrs. homas Beaufort Ogle-
thorpe, she was, her husband the only son of
the late Judge Oglethorpe, a descendant of one
i of the oldest Southern families. The, judge’s
I widow was still livnig, and being devotodly 83'
! tached to the unfortunate Hada, fitted up a suit
I of apartments in her mansion, and employed
1 suitable attendants to care for her.
I And it was this unfortunate being: apparently
, perfectly sane at times who had played such
 strange tricks as related in the ﬁrst part of our
story.

Shortly after her capture by the Professor
and his assistants, justas the reached the old
family mansion in the SO!“ , Hadﬁ suddenly
sickened, and, despite all “1'3 0|" find money

. could do, died.
1 The detectives reacth the Place just after
1 the funeral; and now since the elder sister was
‘ dead, they turned their thanH to the younger
l one, and upon questioning the Professor he sud~
! denly remembered the you“: actress and the
likeness which there was between her and Mrs.
’ Oglethorpe. The strange Interest which the
madwoman had taken Ill her, too, was now
‘ pillain t0 the Profeﬂor- The young m Was

8 sister. .

: And this clew the detectives followed up With

' hap y results. _Grand good news the brought

to a young girl; she was one of 0 “Chest
n

 
‘ heiresses in gland, and her brave Muzzle
l against V8117? Was at an end.

i “Wei, Mr. Gordon Mallory 0“ can list
‘thank me for your good luck.” 6 outspo en

. Sm exclaimed, after con atulations were
l over. “If it hadn’t been his: my “dwce Oil
i would never have dared to open your wont to
' ask for your wife, and by the some 303011, Mrs.
: Mallory you can thank me for hun-

“ I Will try and repay the 881m“ by getting
3’9“ ‘1 800d husband, dear,” “30 young Kiri re-
plied, archly, .

k u '11,,sz you; but when my time comes I win
HOW I uick enou h.” '
1 Our Stgry is   career 0‘  Gems in

PM
away. and she no larger hungered for the
em ‘5 1‘ ' the s 9- ,

ﬁigxﬁggﬁsoghm;nno matter how great the
ambition, the lam-91 crownof the actress is hard
to gain, and half the time when it is won it i.

not 'nning.
Worth the WI THE mm

terribly enraged the father; a quarrel ensued :
between the two; as a, result the son was di n on ,

 
True Stories of Stirring Lives!

over the wild game ranges and the cattle

 
l

.- _ _;_ ’2

In"

 
Crater. 01.4.. 0 0". I

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0


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15 to 25 Popular Dialogues and Dramas in each book. Each volume 100 limo pages, sent
post-paid, on receipt of price, TEN CENTS. ~

BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William St., N. Y.

These volumes have been prepared with especial reference to their availability for Exhibitions, being adapted to schools and parlors with
I without the furniture of a stage, and suited to SCHOLARS AND YOUNG PEOPLE of every age, both male and female. It is fair to assume
Int no other books in the market, at any price, contain so many useful and available dialogues and dramas of wit, pathos, humor and sentiment.

 
Dime Dialogues, No. 1.

ﬂeeting of the Muses. For nine young ladies-
Baiting a Live Englshmaa. For three boys.
Tasso’s Coronation. For male and female.
Fashion. For two ladies.

The rehearsal. For six
Which will you Choose?

The  For two little girls.
The e —
Three Seen

as in Wedded Life. For male and female.
Mrs. Sniffies’s Confession. For male and female.
The Minion of the Spirits. For ﬁve young ladies.

obnobbing.
a of Success. or

 
Youn America. For three males and two females.

Jose ' e‘s Destiny. For four females, one male.

The oily of the Duel. For three male speakers.

Dogmatism. For three male speakers.

The ignorant Confound . For two boys.

The ast You Man. or two males.

The Year's Rec oning. Twelve females. one male.

The Village with One Gentleman. For eight females
and one male.

Dime Dialogues, No. 2.

The Genius of Liberty. Two males and one female.
Cinderella , or, the Little Glass Slipper.
Doing Good and Saying Bad. For several characters.

 
BEADLE AND ADMS, 98 WILLIAM STRHT, N. Y.

General Dime Book Publishers.

 
The Golden Rule. For two males and two females
The Gift of the F Queen. For several females.
Taken in and Done or. For two characters.
Country Aunt‘s Visit to the City. Several character.I
The Two Romans. For two males.

Trying the Characters For three males.

The apgy) Family. For several “ animals.”

The Rain w. For several characters.

How to write “ Po ular ” Stories. For two males.
The New and the ld. For two males.

A Sensation at Last. For two males,

The Greenhorn. For two males.

The Three Men of Science. For four males.

The Old Lady’s Will. For four males.

The Little Philoslofhers. For two little girls.

How to Find an eir. For five males.

The Virtues. For six young ladies.

A Connubial Eclogue.

The Public eetin . For five males and one female.
The English ve er. For two males.

Dime Dialogues, No. 3.

The Hay Queen. For an entire school.
Dress Reform Convention. For ten females.
Keeping Bad Comgny. A Farce. For five males.
Court Under-D cultles. Two males, one female.
Natio Representatives. A Burlesque. Four males.
Bees. 1 the Draft. For numerous males.
The -n Cook. For two males.
Masterpiece. For two males and two females.
Re Two Romans. For two males.

e Same. Second Scene. For two males.
Showin ‘he White Feather. Four males, One femah.
The 10 Call. A Recitative. For one male.

 
The Mt  For ten or more persons.
in e. For three males and two females.
F32. and Charity. For three little 'rls.
% i‘ Joan. For two males and one emale.
e y. A Floral Fancy. For six little girls.
The Enchanted Princess. 2 males, several females.
Honor toWhom Boner is Due. 7 males and 1 female.
e Gentle Client. Several males and one female.
Phenom A n. For twenty males.
The Stu town olunteer. 2 males and 1 female.
A Scene from “ Paul Pry.” or four males.
. For three in and one female.
Bee, Clock and Broom Fox-three little rls.
The htwa. AColl y. Fortwo ys.
Whatt em”. ortwomales.
The Crimeso . A V. For tWObO‘yl-
The Reward of Benevolence. or four mains.
The Letter. For two males.

Dine Dialogues. 30- 5-

The Three Guesees. For school or or.
Sentiment. A “Three Persons' " roe.

Behind the Curtain. For malesand femaha.

The Eta Pi Society. For five boys and a teacher,
Exaxxination Day. For several female charavtanI
Tradln in “ Tra ." For several males.

The Schoolboys‘ bunal. For ten'boys.

 
I?
/

c

2

THE

DIME SPEAKERS.—Conti

 
1i

Dime Humorous Speaker, No. 6.

A Sad Storlv,
A String 0 Onions,
A Tragic Story,
ats,
Courtship,
Debt
Devils
Dow, Jr.’s Lectures,
Ego and Echo
Fashionable Women,
Fern Thistles,
Good-Nature,
Gottlieb Klebcyergoss
Schlackenllchter's sna e,
HoseahBi iow‘s O inions,
ow t e oney oes
gaggigo-g’s Fourth of
re. on
if on Mean N'o, Say No,
Jo ws on Leap Year,
Lay of the Heanecked,
Lot Skinner’s E egy,
Matrimony,
Nothing to Do
Old Caudle’s Umbrella,
Old Grimes’s Son,
Paddle Your Own Canoe.
Parody on “ Araby's
Daughter,”

Dime Standard

The World We Live In,
Woman‘s Claims,
Authors of our Liberty,
The Real Con ueror,
e'Citizen’s eritage,
taly
The Mechanic, ‘
Nature and Nature’s God
The Modern Good, [Sun,
Ossian’s Address to the
Independence Bell—i777,

 
Poetry Run Mad,

Right Names,

Scientiﬁc Lectures,

The Ager,

The Cockney,

The Codﬁsh,

Fate of Sergeant Thin,

The Features' Qiiarrel,

Hamei'ican Voodch—uck,

The Harp of a Thousand
Strings,

The Last of the Sarpints,

The March to Moscow,

The Mysterious Guest,

The l’iim ,

The Sea- erpcnt,

The Secret,

The Shoemaker,

The Useful Doctor,

The “'atei'fall,

To the Baclielors’ Union

ue,

Unite States Presidents,
Vagaries of Popping the

Question,
What I Wouldn‘t Be,
Yankee Doodle Aladdin,
Ze Moskeetare,
1933.

Speaker, N o. 7.

John Burn Gettysburg,
No Sect in eaven,

Miss I’rude’s Tea-Party,
The Power of an Idea,
The Beneﬂcence of the
Suffrage, [Sea,
Dream of the Revelers,
HovyCyrus Laid the Cable
The Prettiest Hand,
Paradoxical,

Little Jerry, the Miller,

 
ighe  ht
cg ’ iou s, 3
The adies‘ﬁtlan,
Life,
The Idler,

The Unbeliever,

The Two Lives,

The True Scholar,
Judges not Infallible,

Fanaticism,

Instability of Successful
Agriculture, LCrime,
Ireland,

The People Always Con-
Music of labor, [quer,
Prussia and Austria,
Wishing,

] The Blarney Stone,

The Student of Bonn,
The Broken Household,
The Bible,

The Purse and the Sword
My Countrly,
Tnic Mora Courage,
What is War?
Butter,

My Deborah Lee,
The Race,

The Pin and Needle,
The Modern Puritan,
immortality of the Soul,
Occupation,

HerOisni and Daring,

A Shot at the Decanter.

Dime Stump Speaker, No. 8.

Hon. J. M. Stubbs‘ Views
on the Situation,
Hans Schwacklieiincr 0n
Woman's Suil’rage,
All for a Nomination
Old Ocean, Sea,
The Sea,the Sea, the open
Star Bangled Spanner.
Stay Where You Belong,
Life’s \Vhat You Make I ,
Where‘s My Money,
ISpeech from Conscience,
an's Relation to Society
The Limits to Iialppiness,
Good-nature a B essing.
Sermon from Hard-shell
Tail-coders, [Baptist,
The Value of Money,
Meteoric Disquisition,
Be Sure You are Right,
Be of Good Cheer
()rabbed Folks, (Shrew,

 
Taming a Masculine
Farmers, [Our Country
The True Greatness of

New England and Union,
The Unseen Battlefield,
Plea for the Republic,
America, [Fallacy,
“Right of Secession” a
Life’s Sunset,

Human Nature,
Lawyers,

Wrongs of the Indians,
A peal in behalf of Am.
Ii iseries of War, [Liberty,
A Lay Sermon,

A Dream, -
Astronomical,

The Moon, [zens,
Duties of American Citi-
The Man _
Temptations of Cities,
Broken Resolutions,
There is no Death,

ces,
A Fruitful Discourse,
A Frenchman‘s Dinner,
Unjust National Acqui’n,
The Amateur Coachman,

 
Ll

.,.: gs-"-

JUST PUBLISHED, CONTAINING 17  DIALOGUES.

 
'DI

  
2.,

ALOGBS No. 29.

 
BEADLE 1ND ADAMS, 98 WILLIAM STREET, N. Y.

General Dime Book Publishers.

 
l

 
nued.

The Cold-water Man,
Pemianency of States,
Liberty of Speech,

Dime Juvenile

A Boy‘s Philoso hy,
Hoe Out Your ow,
Six-Year-Old‘s Protest,
The Suicidal Cat,

A Valvdiction,
Popping Corn,

The Editor,

The Same, in rhyme,
The Fairy Shoemaker,
What W'as Learned,
Press On,

The Horﬁe,

The Sna ein the Grass,

' Tale of t c’h‘o‘pics,

Bromley’s Speech,

The Same, second extract
The Fisher‘s Child,
Sliaks icarian Scholar,

A Mai en‘s Psalm of Life,
A Mixture,

Plea for Skates,

Playing Ball,

Ah, Vi 1y,

Live for Something

Lay of the Hen-l’ecited,
The Outside Dog,

Wolf and Lamb,

Lion in Love,

Frogs Asking for a King,
Sick Lion,

Country and Town Mice,
Man and Woman,

Home,

The Lotus-Planter,

Little Things.

A Baby's Soliioquy,

Re ntance

A lea for Rig-gs
Humbug Pat otism,
Night After Christmas,
Short Legs,

Shrimps on Amusements,

John Thompson’s Dau’r,
House Cleaningi,3
It Is Not Your usinem.

Speaker, No. 9.

How the Raven Became
Black,

A Mo her’s Work,

The Same,

Who Rules,

A Sheep Story,

A Little Correspondent,

One Good Turn Deserves

My Dream, [Anotlnen

Rain

 
I'll N ever Use Tobacco,
Mosaic,

The Old Bachelor,

Pra 'er to Light,

Litt e Jim,

Angelina’s Lament,

Johnny Shrimps on Boots

Mercy,

Choice of Hours

Poor Richard‘s Sayings,

Who Killed Toni Roper,

Nothing to Do

Honesty Best Policy,

Heaven,

1-10 for the Fields.

Fashion 0n iii“ Brain.

On‘Shanghals,

 
~A Smile,
Casablanca
Homon thic Soup,
Nose Eyes,

: Malt [Come,

1 A Hundred Years to
The Madman and his
i Little Sermons, [Rmr'
Snui’ﬂes on Electricity,
The Two Cradles,

The Ocean Storm,

DoT Little—DoitWell
Little iss, -
‘ Base‘Ball, [Fever
il’rescription for Spring

Dime Spread-Eagle Speaker. No. 10.

Ben Buster’s Oration,
Hans Von Spiegel‘s 4th,
Joah Billings Advice,
A Hard-she SermOn,
The ts,
The Squeezer,
Noah and the Devil,
irritﬁvii"i‘i“ikt

u n o .
Digestion and 
ggtinction‘s Disadva

th. [ages
Gushnlina Bendibus,
A Stock of Notions .
Speaking for the Sheriir,
Dakirig a Shweat,
Then and Now
Josh Bil s‘s Leeann-mg,
Doctor De lister‘s Ann‘t,
Consi ents,
Hard ives,
Dan Bryant's Speech,
A Colored View,
Original Maud Muller,
Nobody
Train of Circumstances,
Good Advice
The Itching rum,

Drum-head Sermons,
Schnitzerl‘s Philosopede,
“ Woman’s RightS,’
Luke Lather,
The og,
.Ilqack ISlpratt,
ew ‘ng and 'lragedy,
The Ancient Bachelor
Jacob Whittle's Speec
Jerks Pro osticates,
A Word wrth Shocks,
Sat Loven ood,
‘ A Mule R! 8,
Josh Billings on Buzzers,
Il Trovatore,
Kissing in the Street,
3 Scandalous.
Mixed.
ce-seeker.
, Old Bachelors,
3 Woman. '
i The Niam Niams,
‘ People VVlil Talk,
‘ Swackhamer’s Ball,
l Who Wouldn‘t be Fire’n,
l Don’t Depend on Dadda,
i Music of Labor
1 The American Ensign.

Debater and Chairman’s Guide No. l 1._

L—Dsm'mm Swim.
Its Ofﬁce and Usefulnels.
Formation of,
Constitution 01,

By-Laws of,

Rules of Government.

Local Rules 01' Order.

Local Rules 01'

Subjects of Discussion.
n.—How 'ro Dun-rs.

Why there are few good

Debaters,

Pre uisites to 0mm”.
cal access

The Logic of Debate,

The Rhetoric of Debate,

Maxims to Observe,

The Preliminary premise,

Order of Argument,

Summary.

[IL—CHAIRMAN’S (“mm
Ordinnry Meeti and
“Asgmbliies, D“

9 P881) zation,

Order of Business and
Pmceedings,

The “ Question.” How it
can be Treated,

Th0“Q}108ti0n.” How to
,be Considered,

Rights to the Floor,

Ri his of a S alter as

gainst the air,

Calling Yeas and Nays,

Interrupting a Vote,

01‘ anization of Delibera-
tliyve Bodies, Conven-
tions, Annual or Gen-
eral Assemblies

 
mummary Organization

Permanent 0 anization,

The Order of usiness
nsidering Reports, Par

rs, etc.
OPeSubsidiiiry Motions,
he Due Order of Con-
sidering Questions,
Committees,
Objects of a Committee,
Their Powers,
How Named,
When Not to Sit,
Rules of Order and Pro-
cedure
How to BepOl't.
The Committee
Whole,
MiscellaneOUS.
Treatment of Petitions,
The Decorum of Debate,
Hints to a Chairman.

w,—Dr.niirl:s.

Debate in full:

Which is the Greatest
Beneﬁt to his Country

—the Warrior, States-
man, or Poet?

Debates in Brief:

1. 18 UN Reading of
Works of Fiction to he
Condemned?

. Are Lawyers a Bene
fit or a urse to So
ciety?

V-—QUO‘!'ATIOI'S m
_ Pmmsns.
Latin.

01' the

 
. T
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Library.

American Copyright Novels and the Cream of Foreign Novelists, Unabridged, FOR FIVE CENTS!

 
I“; .-. _._..-.A__.. - 

1 The Masked B idc; or, Will She Marry ‘
Him? By Mrs. Mary Reed (.‘roWell.

2 Was It Lowe! or. (‘ollegluns and Sweet- I
hearts. By Wm. Mason Turner. M. I).

3 The Girl Wife ; or, The True and the False.
By Burtley T. Campbell.

4 A Brave Heart: or, Startlineg Strange.
By Arabella. Sonthworth.

5 Bessie Raynor, tho “’ork Girl or,
The Quicksands of Life. By William 2i uson
Turner. M. I).

8 The Secret Marriage; or, A Duchess in
S ite of Herself. By Sure. ('luxton.

7 . aughtcr of Eve; or, Blinded by Love.
By Mrs. Mu Reed (.‘royvell.

8 Heart to cart; or, Fair Phyllisv Love.
By Arabella Southwurth.

9 Alone in the \Vorld; or, The Young Man‘s
Ward By the, author of “Clifton,” “Pride
and Passion," etc.

10 A Pair oi Gray Eyes; or, The Emerald
Necklace. By Rose Kt'nne y.

11 Entangled; or, A Dangerous Game. By
Henrietta Thackeray.

12 Ilia Lawml Wife; or, Myra, the Child of
Adoption. By Mrs. Ann S. Stephens.

13 Madea , the Little uakeresa' or, The
Naval t‘s wooin . y Corinne ushman.

1-1 Why I Married im; or, The Woman in
Gra . By Sara. Claxton.

15 A air Face awor, Out in the World. By
Bart y . Camp ll.

16 Tran cr Not; or, A True Knight. By
Mlgaret LeiCestcr. .

1 7 A Loyal Lover“ or, The Last of the Grima-

he. B Arabella So hworth.

1 8 is [do or. The 111
Mrs. Mary ‘d CroWell.

19 The Broken Bctrothal; or, Love versus
Hate. By Mary Grace Hoipinc.

20 Orphan Nell, the Orange Girl; or, The
Lost Heir. “'By Agile Penne.

21 Now and orever; or, Why Did She Mar-

Him? By Henrietta Thackeray.

22 e Bride of an Actor; 0r. Driven from
Home. B the author of “ Alonein the World,"
“ Clifton, ‘ etc. ' ,

28 Leap Year; or. Why She Proposed. By Bars

"1. n.
24 Her Face Was Her Fortune. By Elen-

nor Blaine.
25 Only a Schoolmistress; or, Her Untold
t. By Arabella. Southwortli. .
26 Without a Heart; or, Walking on the
. By Colonel Prentiss Ingrshum.
27 Was She a (‘oquette 1 or, A Strange
Mp. By Henrietta Thackeray.
28 8 hi] Chase; or, The Gambler‘s Wife. By
. Ann 8. Stephens. .
29 For Her Dear Sake; or, Saved From Him- ‘
self. By Sara. Clnxtou.

30 The Don net Girl ; or, A Million or Money.
By Agile arms.

31 A Mad Marriage; or, The Iron Will. By
Mary A. Donison.

turrcd Marriage. By

 
82 Mariana, the Pri a ‘Donnr or, Roses
and Lili . By Arabe a Boutiwort’h.

83 The Three iii-tern; or. The Mystery of
Lord Chalfont. By Alice Fleming.

94 A Marria o of Convenience; or. Was
Be a Count By Sara Cinxton.

95 All Against Her; or. The Winthrop Pride.
By Clara Augusta.

89 811' Archer’s Bride; or. The Queen of His
Heart. By Arabella Southw0rth.

37 The Country Cousin; or, All is not Gold
that Glitters. By Rose Kennedy. I

88 His Own A in or. Trust Her Not. By
Arabella Sou wort .

39 Flirtation; or. A Young: Girl‘s Good Name.
By Jacob Abarbanell, (R p); Royal.)

40 Plodged to Marry; or. In Love‘s Bonds.
By Sara ('laxton.

41 Blind Devotion; or, Love Against the
World. By Alice Fleming. t.

42 Beatrice, the Beautiml; or, His Second
[me By Arabella Southworth.

43 The Baronct’s ﬁeoret; or, The Rival Hall-
Sisterr.‘ By Sam Chilton.

44 The 01:] Dau hter; or. Brother against
Lover. y Alice ending.

45 Her Hidden Foe; or. Love At All Odds.
By Arabella Southworth.

46 The Little Heiress;
By Mrs. Mary  Denison.

47 Because She Loved Him; or, How Will
It End? By Alice Fleming.

48 In Spite of Herself; or,
ration. By S. R. Sherwood. .

49 His Heart’s 1 stress; or Lave at First 1
Sight. By Arsbel a Southworth.

or, Under a Cloud.

 
J eannette‘s Reps- 1'

50 The Cuban Hoiresa' or. The Prisoner of
my A. venison,

La. Vintresse. By Mrs.

en

51 Two Young Girls; or, The Bride of an
Earl. By Alice Fleming.

52 The “'inged Messenger; or, Risking All
for a. Heart. By Mrs. Mary Reed (‘rowelL

 
- 53 Agnes Hope, the Actress»; or. The Ro-

mnnce of a Ruby Ring. By illium Mason

Turner, M. D.

:' 54 One Woman’s Heart; or. Saved from the

Street. B George S. Kaim'e.
5 She, Did ot Low- Him; or, Stoopiug to
Conquer. By Arubelln. Southworth.

6 Love-{Vlad ; or. Betrothed Married Divorced
and —. B ' Wm. Mason urner.  D.

I"‘I A Brave Girl; or, Sunshine at Last. By

Alice Fleming.

548 The. Ebon Mask; or, The Mysterious
Guardian. By Mrs. Mary Reed Crowell.

59 A Widow’a Wiles; or,ABitter Vengeance.
By Rachel Bernhardt.

60 (‘ecll’a Deceit; or. The Diamond Legacy.
B Mrs. Jennie Davis Burton.

81 A lckcd Heart; or, The False and the
True. BySara ton.

62 The Maniac Bride; or, The Dead Secret
of Hollow Ash Hall. By Margaret BlounL

63 The Creole Sisters; or, The Mystery of the

Pen-ya. By Mrs. Anna E. Porter.

64 “hot Jealous Did; or, The Heir or
Worsle Grange. y Alice Fleming.

85 The li'e’a Secret; or, Twin Cup and

Li . Col. Juan Lewis.

66 A rot er’s Sin' or, Flora‘s Forgiveness.
By Rachel Bernhardt.

87 Forbidden Bans; or, Alma’s Disguised
Prince. By Arabella Southworth.

68 Weavers and “'oit; or. “Love That Hath
Us In His Net.“ By Miss M. E. Braddon.

89 (lantillo; or, The Fate of a. Coquette. By

- Alexandre Durn

as. .
70 The Two 0r hans. By D‘Enery.
71 MI! Young “'0. By My Young Wife‘s
usband.
72 The Two Widows. By Annie Thomas.
73 Rose Michel; or The Trials of a Factory
Girl. By Maud Hil .
74 Cecil Castlemaine’s Gﬁ‘; or, The Story
of a Broidered Shield. 8; a.
75 The Black Lady 01‘ By J. S. be
B Mrs. Rowson.

Farm.

76 Charlotte Tom lo.

77 Christian Oak 0 ’s intake. By the
author of “ John ax, Gentleman," etc.

78 Mg Young Ila-band; or, A Confusion in
t e Family. By Myself.

79 A noon Amongst Women. By the
out or of “The Cost. of Her Low " “A Gilded
Bin." “Dora Thoma,” “From G 00m to Sun-
light," etc.

80 Her Lord and Master. By Florence
Marry”.

una.

8 1 Lucy Temple, Sister of Charlotte.
82 A Long Time Ago. By Meta Orred.

83 Playing for High Stakes. By Annie
Thomas. .
84 The. Latin] Bush. By the author of

“John Halifax, Gentleman."
85 Led Aatray. By Octave Feuillet.
80 Janet’s Repentance. By George Eliot.
87 The Romance ofa Poor Young Man.

By Octave Feuilet.

88 A Terrible need; or, All for Gold. By
Emma Garrison Jones.

89 A Gilded Sill. By the author of-“Dora
Thorn," etc.

00 The Author’s Daughter. By Mary
Howitt.

91 The Jilt. By Charles Reade.

92 Eileen Alanna; or. the Dawning of the Day.
By Dennis O‘Sullivan.

93 Love’s Victory. By B' L. Farjeon.
94 The Quiet Heart. By Mrs. Oliphsnt.
95 Lcttico Arnold. By Mrs. Marsh.

96 Haunted Hearts; or. The Broken Be-
trothnl. By Rachel Bombardt.

97 Hugh Melton. By Katharine King.
98 Alice Learmont. ByMissMulock.

99 Marjorie Bruce’s Lovers. By Mary
Patrick.

100 Through Fire and Water. 13de-
erick Tal t.

10! Hannah. By. Miss Mulock.

102 Peg Womngton. By Charles Reade.
103 A Desperate Deed. By Erskine Boyd.
104 Shadow: on the Snow. By B. L. Fab

jeon. ,
105 The Great now"! DI-mond- By
W. M. Thackeray.
106 From Dreams to Waking. By E.
Lynn Linton.

107 Poor Zeph! By F. W. Robinson.

’ The Cheapest Library Ever Published!

 
108 The Sad Fortunes of the Rev. Amos
Barton. By George Eliot.

109 Bread-and-Cheese and Kisses. By
B. L. Fax-jeon.

110 The \Vandcring Heir. By Charles
Reade.

111 The Brother’s Bet; or Within Six
Weeks. By Emilie Flygere Onion

1 12 A Hero. By Miss Mulock.

1 13 Paul and Vlr rlnia. From the French of
Bernardin De St. ierre.

114 ’TIvaa 1n Trai‘al rar’s Bay.
ter Besunt  James ce.

115 gulllkek Maid of Killcena. By William

By Wei.

1 1 6 Hetty. By Henry Kingsley.

117 The \Vaynido (‘roas .or, The Raid 0!
Gomez. By Captain E. A. .

118 The. Vicar of Wakeﬁeld. By Oliver
Goldsmith.

119 Maud Mohan.

120 Thaddeus of “'arsaw.
Porter.

121 The King of No-Land. ByBJ... Far-
eon.

By Annie Thomas. I
By Miss Jane

122 Lon-I, the Widower. ByW. M.Thack~
(‘1‘8 .

y
123 An Island Pearl. By B. L. Farjcon.
124 Cousin Phillis.

125 Leila; or. The Ski: oi Grenada. By Ed-
ward Bulwer (Lord Ly on).

126 When the. Shi Cor-mi Home. By
Walter Besant and met Rico. ‘

127 One of the Family. By Jam-ism

128 The Birthright. ByMrs. Gore.

129 Motherlm; or, The Farmer‘s Sweetheart,
By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham.

130 Homeless or. TWO Orphan Girls in New

York. By bert W. Aiken.
1 31 Sister ainst Sister or. The Rivalry c!
Hm. y Mrs. Mary Raid Crowell.

132 Sold for Gold; or, Almost Last. By Mrs.
M. V. Victor.

133 Lord Roth’s Sin 'or. t.th u the
Cradle. By Mrs. Georg‘imams

134 and  Love Her 9 By Barﬂoy'l‘. Camp-

1 35 Sinned Against; or, Ahnost in His Power.
By Lillian Lovejoy.

180 Was she m. Wm! Dyna-MM
Crowell. ? r

137 The Village on the CHI} By Miss
Thee eray. ‘

138 Poor Valeria! or. The Broken Troth.
By Margaret Blount.

189 Margaret Grath- BY G. P. R. James.

140 Without Mercy- 33’ Hartley T.Csmpbell.

1 41 Honor Bound; 0?. Sealed to Secrecy. By
Lillian Lovejoy.

142 fleeing iro- LGVO. By Mrs. Harriet
rving. i

143 Abducted; 01'. A Wicked Wom‘s'Work.
By Rett Winwood.

144 A Strange Marriage; or,an Foster's
Heir-ell.

y Lillian Lovejoy.
145 Two Girl’s Lives. By Mrs. Mary Reed
Crowell.

' 6 A Desperate Venture or For Love‘s

1‘ Own Sake- By Arabella So wo‘rth.

147 The War or “9.31.. By Corinne Cusho
man.

1 48 Which Was the Woman 1 or. Strangely
_  Mlsiudsed. BySara Claxton.
149 An Ambitious Girl or. SheWould Be
An Actress. 8, Frames slen Davenport,
150 Love Lord of All; 0P. In Han Own AT
'1‘. By Alice May Fleming.
1 51 A Wild Girl; or. Don’s Gwen. By
Corinne Cushrnan.
152 A Man’s Sacriﬁce; or, Ar Wm Wm
HIISILI'. By Harriet INDE-
153 Did Che Bin? or A Ma‘s Dssniu'ni
Gm. By Mrs. Binder-oven.
.. Ready October rm.
.4 new W m we“.

Tan Wanna! Luann! is for sale lay all News‘
dealers, are neat! PO" 009?. or sent by mail on re.
oeipt of six cents each.

BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers.
‘98 William street. New York.

’v

 
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