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About The Sioux County journal. (Harrison, Nebraska) 1888-1899 | View Entire Issue (June 12, 1890)
mm CRUSADE. T BOM IUCCHETTS CAftKT. of "Barbara Htatlxotft Trial' tfawtaae Whit," "The Seank -mf Html LgndkunL" cukrrtM xiiii. nisuiss the chakom. It pleased om greatly to boar that Gar rod Id be aahureas of Marshlands; I eon Id not ImagiM the place without ber bright pretence. She would (till hare her pets round her. her W and chickens, and bcr brown mare Bonnie; the tame pheas aute woold alilt follow ber up aod down the terrace, the pigeons flr on ber arms aad shoulders: she would ride out with the old squire, and sine to him of ao even ing, and Walter Roeaiter woold be a son to him In bis old age. I thought it would be an ideal life, and I found oat that my mistress thought ao, too. She often talked to me about It when we were left alone, and of her yonng sis ter's happiness; aad when (jay had a leis ure boar she would run up to the nurs ery, and chat about ber future, telling me , everything she thought I should like to bear. After a week or two Mr. Rossiter came to Prince's Gate, and then I saw little of Gay; my nursery duties occupied me, and she was too much engrossed with her lover's company to give me much of her time. Mr. Rossiter bad brought a sad piece of news with blm that I was sorry to hear. Mr. Hawtry had returned from Venice, bringing bis cousin with him to the Ked Farm; but a few days ago be had met with an accident in the huntin e-fleld: hii mare bad throw blm In Jumping a gate. It was a young mare be had lately bought, and she had not been properly broken Id: the result had been a broken leg to ber master. Gay could not quite tell me how St bad happened. Mr. Hawtry was too good a horseman to be essily thrown, but be bad fallen in an awkward place, and It was only by a miracle be hud not bee a killed. His cousin, Kdgar Hawtry, was nursing him; but it was likely to be a tedious af fair. I noticed that Mrs.- Morton and Gay seemed to take this accident greatly to heart; they were always alluding to it, and looking eagerly for bulletins from Marshlands. - "There wonld be few men more missed than Hawtrv," I heard Mr. Rossiter say one day, when be and Gay were In the nursery playing with the chil dren "I should not be here now if Edgar were not with him: but be is a famous urae, Mrs. Cornib tells me." I was glad to think that poor Mr. Haw try was not left alone, to miss his mother and Miss Agnes. He was so strong and active, so full of life and energy, that we could not Imagine him a prisoner to his conch. I had heard a great deal of this young artist cousin, whom he hsd nursed through a long and dangerous Illness In Venice. He was a llRht-hearted, hand some young fellow, and I was glad to know that he was at the Red Farm taking care of Mr. Hawtry. Mr. Rossiter and Gsv left ns a little be fore Christmas. Mr. Rosslter's duties re called him to Ketherton, and Gay could not well remain longer. Mrs. Markham was to accomplish her flitting with the New -Year, and then Gay would assume Ber position as mistress of Marshlands. She eame to ns again early In February to get her tronnrnu, and remained three weeks. Her wedding was fixed for the end of April. I saw a good deal of her during those weeks. She woold take ns with birr Id the earriage sometimes when be went on her shopping expeditions: sometimes ws haloed ber with bcr pur chases, until Reggie grew restless and I carried him out. She was very sweet and humble la ber happiness, and would often tell me bow little she deserved it. "Do we ever de serve itf" she said once, as we were driv ing through the park one late afternoon. Reggie bad fallen asleep on my lap. Joyce sat opposite, looking at the twink ling gas-lamps and the pale radiance of distant water. Gay leaned back in ber place a little wearily, but her eyes were shining In the dusk. "I do not think any of as deserve it, Merle; it Is a free ift to all of us, for which we must be thankful." "Yes." I returned, briefly, for I would not Interrupt the solemnity of ber mood by any Ill-timed compliment; and yet, in my heart, I believed no one deserved bap- eess more. It would not be wasted on , I knew that; she was one of those who receive with both bands, and then give It back aimtn to others. I knew she and Walter Rossiter would lead noble lives together, doiug their duty simply and without effort, not looking for large results, bu carrying good seed with them and scattering it broadcast with uo nig gardly band. Theirs would be a bright, sunny home, I was quite sure of thata home where generous hospitality would be exercised, where the poor as well as the rich would br feasted. When Gsy said presently in a moved tone, "How good fought to be, and how fciDDV I onsht to make others when I am ao blessed myself!" I knew she was speak ing out of the very fullness of her voting heart that was overflowing with happi ness, and I thought bow nice It was to bear ber. I liked to see the simpllofty with which she grasped the meaning of life to be happy yes, truly, for to that end we were created, and to benefit our fellow creatures. It was a little hard to say good-bye to har, bat she comforted me with the assur ance that she meant to have us- down at Marshlands that summer. Tbelr honey moon was to be a brief one, she told me; for neither she nor Mr. Rossiter liked to leave the squire loog alone "We must not be selfish, Walter says," aha finished, brightly: "and as he declares oar honey-moon Is to Isst for life, 1 do not eee that It much matters where we spend It," and then she gave a bappy little laugh and went away. It was a great disappointment to my mistress that neither she nor her husband eould be at the wedding; bnt circum stances prevented It, for with the May anoahlne another little hnmnn blossom appeared at Prince's Gate-a baby girl, to Ska the place of the dead Muriel. I do not know why I shed tears when the baby was first laid In my arms. Per haps I realized that my beloved mistress bad lain long between lite and death, ad that to the household It hail been time of terrible suspense; but when 1 saw my mistress' pals face Irradiated with the purest happiness ths feeling passed. "AUck has promised me that I may call Iwr Mo." she whispered. "Is she not lovely baby, Merle; more like Reg; gie than Joycer Bnt she smiled when 1 fared her the baby resembled her. ary enangea n ttookigK. a flae healthy boy, and 1 thought I was JoaUaVfd in pUsdJng for the aoto ohargs eTthaMhy. hut It was decided that the Up MorrfaL a vsrv nleaaant. SmSMs) wosaea, should remain for ths next few months, and after that I should CSiaa wQrfiaaMh could than be promoted to tha care of Reggie, aod ac &T2srftrlould be added V aecaaMrr SStSAmSoJLr one that had been osed tTlAeda, but I still kept possession of w!?,SSjee to Mrs. Morris' eom- It aiatH TT- " pamonaoie to me man rtauaan, aoa oaoy i Florence whs my dVliulit t From the first, she was more with me than with her proper nurse. Mr. Morris preiendM to gramme wiieu I snatched ber away ou every possible occasion, but I could not resist the pretty cooing crea ture. I would have given up mv night's rest gladly to watch over ber. Jiveu my mistreta smiled when she paid her first visit to the nursery, and saw me in the rocking-chair with baby on my lap, and Mrs. Morris amusing Reggie at the win dow. When she grew stronger she eame daily to the nursery and sat with us for an hour or so. She told me once, when we were slnne tnvrther a very rare thinir now that her husband employed a secretary for two or three hours in the day, and that he no longer required her services. "I was a little sorry at first," she con fessed, "because I was afraid he would need me less, until be told me that be hud done it for my sake. He thinks I ought to he more with the children, Merle; that Joyce should learn her first lessons from me. We have been arranging the day's duties. You hare no idea how thoughts ful he is for my comfort: he says I am not strong enough to lead such a busy life. The children are to be with me for an hour or two before luncheon, and I am ouly to devote my afternoons to people in general. He has refused all invitatious this season, and at the beginning of July he means to send us all down to Marsh lands; it seems Gay insists ou it" I was pleased and thankful to hear this. T was looking forward to our visit to Marshlands with an Intensity that sur prised myself. It seemed almost too good to be true that my mistress would be wRn us. I longed to see the young Mrs. Kos( terfnher happiness, to revisit our o,i haunts, to spend our afternoons In t,e orchard, to go over to Wheeler's Farm and see Molly. Perhaps we mlghteven revisit the Red Farm. Mr. Hawtry had recovered from his ac cident. 1 knew that he had been away for change of air and scene with his cous in, and was back again at the Ked Farm. He seemed to be frequently at Marsh lands, for Oay always mentioned bim in her letters. He was very busy as usual, making improvements on his farm and building more laborers' cottages. Luke Armstrong lived in one of them. Hannah used to quote largely from Luke's letters, as we walked iu hensing tou Gardens in the bright June mornings. Sometimes It was about a piece of furni ture Luke bad picked up cheaply, no elghjf-dav clock, or a chest of drawers, or a round table that would come in bandy. Molly bad been sending blm some useful odds aud ends out of the store-room at Wheeler's Farm a brass fender aod a Dutch oven, a striped red and black cloth, and some china cups and saucers that Hannah was "fine aud proud of," as Molly said. Lnke was forever hinting In a mod est sort of way that the cottage was near ly furnished. I had been helping Hannah with ber sewing- all the winter, and we knew the result would gladden Molly's heart. Han nah's savings had been invested wisely. The great painted box in Hannah's room held quite a store of sheets and table linen, not to mention piles of neat gar ments all ready tor use. 1 knew what all Luke's hints meant; both he and the cot tage were ready for the youug mistress, and In ber simple, loving way Hannah was ready too. I wondered someti mes If Gay young Mrs. Hoss ter, I meau had taken 'half so much pride and pleasure In her troiiKKcnu ns Huuimh did in the con tents of that old painted box. I was quite ware that the gray French merino that had been ber mistress' Christmas gift still lay there, wrapped in whlley-browu paper with the half doseu hem-stitched band kerchiefs that had been my present, care fully boarded for future use. Hannah blushed a little guiltily when I asked ber about the gray meriuo. "It does not seem to matter what gowns I wear when Luke is not by to see them," she returned, simply; "I only care to be neat and clean, so I am aavlng all my pretty things until we are married. There is the blue print Molly sent me, and some collars and cuffs from Lydia lying hhere with the meriuo. Molly has promised me my wedding-dress," continued Hannah, bashfully. ,TWe have talked of it already, though I have not made up my mind to wed Jnst yet, for all the nonsense Lnke talks.- It Is to be gray, too," she went on. "Lnke has a fancy for gray gowns; and it Is to have silky raised spots on the stuff, like Miss Gay's, onlv not so fine." "Yes. indeed: but I dare say the stuff one will be fust as pretty." "Mother was married in a Japanese silk dress: Molly has a bit of it still In a work bag; bnt Molly says she does not hold with silk dresses and silver spoons for working folk. There Is Martin of Scrog gin's Mill has promised Lyddy a gold watch and chain and a silk gown that will stand alone for richness, but Molly says Lyddy Is far too sensible to be bought at that price." , "Indeed, I hope so, for Lydin's own sake." "Oh. there's no fear of Lvdily taking nn with Martin." returned Hannah, confi dently; "she is bound to be slugle like Molly. Folks cannot nil lie mated, Molly savs, and it is best to be content with n solitary lot than wed a fool. Molly never had much opinion of men-folk. She says they waut n deal of waiting on, nnd are fine and helpless compared to women." Mollv's strong-minded views somewhat amused me, but she was certainly a tower of strength to her young sisters. One could not help sympamizing wun Han nah's happiness; she was so simple and honest: she hod snch faith In her lover's Eerfections: she so thoroughly believed In erself aud him. , , After a time I grew almost as much In terested In the cottage arrangements ns Hannah did. I was quite excited when Luke brought home a pig to inhabit the new sty by the kitchen garden, and spoke t Investing his next week's wages In a cock and some bens. I found Hannah nearly crying for Jov one day over a letter from home, Mollv bad coaxed her father to spare the brindled cow as Hannah's marriage portion. . , "Is it not good of Mollyf" she cried, dry ing her eyes on her apron. "To think of my having Buttercup for my very own, and of the sweet new milk for Luke's por ridge that she will give us every morning. It makes me cry with happiness, Miss Fenton. to think how proud Luke will be. Molly has been a mother to us girls ever since I can remember, and we hare not been half good enongh to her." I bad not been to Putney for some time, and It struck me that a cor. v afternoon !!'.; r.ni 5 iiitn would uo me irooo. Perhaps It was the heat, but I certainly felt a little restless. We were to start for Netherton in another ten days, and I thought I could be more easily spared Jnst now. I tnougni IS wuniu uo um prise Annt Agatha with an unexpected visit. When I told my mistress this she seemed amused. "You had better let Mrs. Keith know beforehand, Merle. Bnnpose you were to find her out; that would be a serious dis appointment to you both." But I refused to entertain this objec tion; I had never found Annt Agatha ont ''"Very well, do as you like," she replied, pleasantly. "It Is rather a hot afternoon; but I see you have made up your mind. Yon are Just a little home-sick, Merle, and want a comfortable talk with your aunt. If your uncle could see you home, I have no objection to your remaining all the evening. Mrs. Morris will look after Reg gie" I shook my head over this proposition. Uncle Keith was very klud, but I could not trouble him to escort me. My mis tress was very partleular about this. She would never hear o( my being out late It la all very well for Hannah or Trav ers," she would say, "but lu your case It ' faj Afferent." An Indeed, In many other ways she watohed over me as tboagn I were a oud sister. it was an inteuseiy hot afternoon, and i was thankful to put on my Cool ex t dress. It was rather a light-colored stuff, that Annt Agatha had given me in the spring. Hannah and I bad made it up with Trav ers' help: hut though it was a very pretty gown, I thought it rather unsuitable f or daily wear, aod so 1 put it by for festive occasions. I always took particular pains with myself when I went borne. I knew Aunt Agatha would eye me critically, and would grumble if I looked dowdy orshab by. She was a woman who loved pretty things, and it was an unpardonable offense In ber eyes for oung persous to be negli gent of their appearance. "Depend upon it. Merle," she would say, ! "there is something unhealthy iu a girl who professes not to care bow she looks. It is our duty to make the best of our selves. A woman ran not lielo lietna nlaiii mil sue need not shock our eyes uy Utsle lessiiess or uutidiness-" '1 think I shall please Aunt Agatha this afternoon," I thought, as I looked at my self somewhat critically. The dress was pretty, so was the bonnet, tbougn 1 uau trimmed it myself. 1 was iu very good spirits as I left the house. It might hare been cooler, cer tainly, and the second-class compart ment felt uuustially stuffy; but 1 forgot the heat when the river came in sight it was so bright and sparkling iu the sun light. Mrs. Morton s speech somewhat bauuted me as I eame up the narrow flagged war leading from the town. Suppose, after all, Auut Agatha should be out; I knew I should be grievously disappointed. Per haps, after all, it was foolish to chance it. I slackened my steps Instinctively, as though I feared no welcome awaited me at the cottage. As I walked between the garden walls, with rose scents wafted to me every now and then, the shadeless sun shine oppressed me, the stones felt hot to my feet: and a cloud of dust whirled sud denly round the corner. I really thought mv apprehension wns true when Uncle Keith opened the door; he looked so excessively surprised to see me: his manner, too. was rather confused. "Hlr-rnmpb, my dear! this is a very un expected pleasure. Who would have thought of such a thing? Agatha will be delighted." "Aunt Agatha Is In, then?" I asked, eagerly. "Oh, yes, she Is In; but hlr-rumph the fact Is. my dear, she is eneaged Just at this moment. We did not know who it was, and she asked me to excuse her to any visitor. Shall we go into the dining room for a few minutes until, she is ready?" "I would rather go np-stairs and take off mv bonnet. Uncle Keith," I returned, quickly; "it is so hot. nnd I shall be glad to get cool:" but lie stood still on the mat. looking after nie. and I heard him clearing bis throat more loudly than usual as he went back to the drawing-room. I was glad to bear the front door shnt presently, aud ran down at once without looking to see who the mysterious stranger might he. If I had taken that trouble, I should have seen Uncle Keith. In his old felt hat nnd gingham umbrella, walking rapidly down the street, intent on some domestic business, nnd should hardly have burst Into the room In that unceremonious fashion. "Oh. Annt Agatha!" I exclaimed, re proachfully, "why did you not come np to me?" and then I stood transfixed with as tonishment. There wns a tall gentle man standing by the wiuilow talking to Aunt Agatha, who turned round abrupt ly as I opened the door. It was Mr. Haw try! I suppose I must have looked very stupid, standing there, unable to speak In my surprise: for he certainly langhed as he came forward and shook hands with me. and yet he seemed a little nervous, too. "I see von do not believe rnnr eves. Miss Fenton. and yet It is really I my self, Roger Hawtry." And then he laugh- eu agai u. y es, i was sure ne was nervous. "My dear child, what good wind has blown vou to us this afternoon?" ex claimed Aunt Agatha, patting her arms round me. "I had no idea who the visitor was until Kr.rn told us lust now." "It was Uncle Keith, then, who went ont?" I stammered, for I was unaccount ably confused. "He told me you were en- Jaged; whv did he not say It was Mr. lawtry? He pretended It was somebody on business." But here I stopped, for Aunt A '.ratlin was making a funny face, as though she were trying to keep grave, and Mr. Hawtry hod become very red all nt once, and turned to the wiuilow. "Why should I not have business with your friend, Mr. Hawtry, Merle?" Why did she call him my friend, I wnndcr? Had she forgotten my position and bis? Aunt Agatha was never awkward: she had more savotr falrc than most people. If It were not incredible, I could almost have believed she wns nervous, too. "Oh, I dou't know," I returned, rather lamely; "j'QU and Mr. Hawtry are stran gers." But at this he came forward again. "This Is my first Introduction to Mrs. Keith, certainly," he said, quickly; "but I cannot allow we are strangers, Miss Fen ton. You have already made me so well acquainted with your aunt Unit I ventured to do myself the pi ensure of calling upon her. I consider we know each other quite well now." I thought Aunt Agatha looked pleased at that. She had a pretty color this af ternoou, as though she were excited, and yet I have heard Uncle Keith say that if the queen were to call on his wife she would not lie discomposed: bnt there were several little signs that told me sho waa not quite at her ease. "I must see about tea," she said, get ting up a little abruptly. "I dare say you can amuse Mr. Hawtry for a few min utes, Merle. He cau tell you all about Mrs. Rossiter." "Oh, yes," I returned, carelessly, ''I shall be so glad to hear all the Xetliertou news. Have vou been to Wheeler's Farm laieiy, Air. nawiry, uuu seen itiunyr auu bow Is Luke Armstrong getting on? Aud Is the cottage pretty?" "Am I to answer all these questions?" he pleaded. "Aud which am I to take first? By the bye, your f rleud, Mrs. Ros siter, has seut you a message. I did not know I should see you to-day, or I would have brought it witli me. it Is a floral message, Miss Fenton, and tells Its own story." , , . );.- .. . (To be C'outinnsd.l ' History of the Arab Horse. Wilfrid Blunt, a noted English breed, sr of Arab horses, rive it as bit opinion that the Arab oolong to the orijriuul wild races of ' Africa rather than to Asia, and was, introduced to southern Arabia by way of Abyssinia, whence it is historical that ho spread northward. He was not known in Europe before the Mohammedan con quest, but since then his blood has spread through nil lands visited by communication with MeccMh rough th pilgrimage. The Barb of north Africa, the Anda'.usian horse of Spain, the Turk, the Persian and the Turcoman have been all largely infused for cen turies with Arab blood. The first Arab blood In England was probably brought through Spain and France, nnd latof Irani Palestine, br tbe crusudurs. A Lively Cripple. A one-legged man whom the Seattlt (Wash.) police were alter Iho other day took refuge in a eellar.lwrred the door, nd defied the whole force. The tiro department was called out and the col lar pumped full of water. When It got up to the nan's ohln bo rarveAdersdt Since then ho bu escaped three time toon JaU. - - WHICH SHE LOVED BEST. When I arose on the morning of my twentieth birthday, and nodded mer rily to ray own reflection iu the glaig the bright young face that laughed back at me was that of a handsome, happy, and very fortunate girt "Good-morning, Miss Lydia Searle," I said. "And if all goes well with us j you won't be Miss Lydia Searle at all this time next year, but Mrs. Harry j Hatton instead." wanted but three week of my wedding-day. I was happy as I eVis busy just then, for I loved the man whose bride I was so soon to become with all a young girl's warm untried affection. "Better than anyone in the world but Tom," I thought. "And surely uobody ever could or ought to be dearer to nie than Tom." Tom was my twin brother. The usual strong affection existing be tween twins was exceptionally power ful in oar case from circumstances. One of us was born strong and robust, and the other trail and small. Notwithstanding my sex, 1 was the favored one by nature, while Tom was the weakly twin. ' That was the first of his misfortune, which naturally gave him a claim on me, and at the same time attached him to me and made bim cling to me as a heartier, manlier boy would not iiave done. The second misfortune was tli at he resembled our father. Poor fellow! As if he could help that! And yet Uncle Elliot resented it tn him just as if he had been to blame for it. "Xot a fraction of my money shall go to this second Tom JSearle," he used to say. And he kept his word. He had adopted us at poor mother's death, Our father had died years before. He gave us both a good education, and jot Tom a position in a bank; but when he died just a year before that twentieth birthday of mine I was his sole heiress. It grieved me terribly. I loved Tom 'jetter far than . myself, and would have shared anything with him; but tie was proud, poor dear, and wouldn't icar of such a thing. So the best I could do was to spend is much money upon him as possible, tnd lend him all he wanted to use. He had no objection to that, because, is he would say: "Some of these days, when I'm partner in the bank, I'll pay it all back igain, Lyddy." And, of course, it was quite prob able that sqme day he would be part ner, since I was about to be married to the banker's only son and heir. "I was puzzled sometimes to know what Tom did with so much money. He had "speculations on hand," he told me. I thought that perhaps he was rather extravagant, too perhaps somewhat inclined to be wild. "lie is so young aud so handsome," I thought. I was always making excuses for him to myself; but, of course, common-sense taught me that if he would be steadier, and attend to business better, his chances of promotion at the bank would be improved. As I thought of him on that birth day morning of course, it was his birthday, too the face in the glass ceased to smile, and a new anxiety crept into my thoughts. I was think ing of last night Tom had acted very strangely. I had lain awake a long time thinking of it last night, and a vague uneasi ness smote me as I rememlered it now. What could have ailed him. He had come in, at about teu o'clock, to the little parlor where Harry and I were sitting together, and had remained with us, restless, agi tated, nervous, and showing so plainly that he wished to see me alone, that presently Harry, half vexed, half amused, took the hint and left us. And then he asked me for money. No trifling sum either. He implored tne, almost wildly, to "give him six hundred pounds, then and there, for God's sake!" He almost took my breath away. 1 had no such sum of money in the house, of course, nor could I get it on such short notice. My fortune con sisted of real estate, from which J de rived a moderate income, and a few thousands in ready money, which, what with Tom's extravagance, and my own preparations for my marriage, were nearly gone.. Quite agliast at his Agitation, as well as at his request, I explained to him the utter impossibility of com pliance. He said not a word, but dropped into a seat, and sat looking at me aa if stupefied. , Every vestige of color had gone from his fair handsome face, and the daUc&te clear cut features looked hag gard and careworn.; A pang shot through nry heart as I saw his distress. I ceased to care or wonder what the money waa wanted for. I knelt down beside bim. i "I'll get it for yon tomorrow," I said, "if I have to mortgage my prop erty. Don't despair; only wait till to morrow, dear." As my hand touched his be started aod looked down at ms, He was DSrsr very strong or brave never fit to battle with trouble. It seamed to have crushed him now; tears fell from his eyes upon my face. "Never mindT he moaned. "Poor Lyddy! Poor girl."" he patted my hand fondly. "I know you'd give it to me if you could. Ah, I've been a bad brother to you, dear. Say you forgive ti.e to-nightr And of course I said so said so weeping. His manner distressed me so; but I didn't know what there was to forgive. I was wiser before that birthday was half over, though the knowledge seemed the greatest calamity of my life. "Something had gone wrong at the bank," Harry told me. He broke the bitter news to me as gently as he could, and with a grave pale face. "Six hundred pounds, which had been entrusted to Tom to deliver some where several weeks ago, had not been accounted for; aud there were errors, too, in his accounts " I heard no more. Insensibility snatched me for awhile from the agony of Tom's ruin and my own dis grace. For must not his sister share his dis honor? I felt that bitterly at first I who had been so proud of him. But by-and-by, indignation, shame, anger, all gave place to love and love's anxiety. Tom was missing. What mattejed it to me that he had sinned ? He was still my brother, and I loved him. My thoughts flew back to his despair that night his tears, his self-reproach his prayer for my forgiveness. I re membered how weak he was, how easily led, and who could tell how greatly tempted; and from my soul I forgave him. I had not waited for that, however, before taking steps to shield him from the consequences of his crime. Mr. Hatton was merciful. He had uo wish to bring public disgrace upon the family of his old friend upon the girl whom his own son was engaged to marry. A I was permitted to make up the de ficit in the bank's accounts, lu order to do so, and for another reason, I in structed my lawyer to dispose of my property. And that other reason was a letter from Tom, received just one week from his departure. . A pitiful letter the outcry of a penitent and almost broken heart. He had not appropriated the Bix hundred pounds, thank God! but he had been out drinking, with the money in his possession, and had been robbed of it ! Oil, how grateful I was! Eveiy other misfortune in the world might ba borne with patience now, since Tom was not dishonest. He confessed to me a thousand in discretions, follies, sins; told me of many and serious debts that he had left behind me. Most startling of all, he told me he was married, and im plored me to seek out and protect his wife and child. Tom's wife and child! Who was she? Vfter the first surprise was over, I found myself longing to see my new sister and the little one. I went to the address Tom had sent me went with a carriage, prepared to bring my new relations home. Dis appointment met me. Mrs. Searle and her child had gone. "They were behind with their rent," said the landlady, "and the husband went away, so I couldn't keep her. She left today." I returned home discouraged. I didn't want to see or speak to any one just then, so it was peculiarly annoy ing to find that a young woman, whom I had employed to do sewing more than a year ago, had called and was was waiting to see me. I went down to her. She arose to meet me as I entered the parlor. Little Eva liobinson! I remembered the girl well a pretty, gentle, timid creature. I started when I saw that she had an infant in her arms. "Why, what's this ?" I cried. "My baby," she said timidly. "I'm married since I saw you last, miss." I sat down, and bade her do the same, and then asked her what I could do to serve her. For all answer she burst into a pas sion of tears, and, rising suddenly, came and laid the infant in my lap. "Have mercy on me!" she cried, falling on her knees. - "This is your brother's child and mine, and I I am his wife!" I was a proud girl, and this blow was a heavy one. My brother, so hand same, such a favorite, so unfit for wife and child he might, have married so advantageously, I thought, ant here I was called upon to welcome as a sister my own sewing-girl. But I did. I may have shrunk from her for an instant perhaps, in the first surprise; but next minute the thought of that other disgrace, which Tom had not brought on himself and me, re turned to me, and in my gratitude ut escaping that I could not murmur. She was a dear little thing, too after all; and the baby charming. Ah, I had reason to be thankful for the comfort of their presence soon. For the very next day, meeting an ac quaintance in the street, said she: "And so I hear that your marriage Is postponed, my dear." . ; -. My heart sank down like lead. "Who Informed yonT I asks quietly. "Your intended bridegroom, Mr Harry Hatton, himself. Is it not truer "Perfectly true," I answered. "And postponed until when?" "Indefinitely." I wrote the same day to Harry: "You desire your freedom; take it You will never be called upon to ful fil your engagement with me." And he took me at my word. He called, certainly, and made a pretence of explanation and regret. The almost entire loss of my fortune bad influenced his father, not himself: but my brother's conduct I stopped him there. "Tom was innocent,'' I said; "and what he lost I have restored. You have acknowledged that there was nothing wrong in his accounts. You need seek no excuse in his conduct sir." He lost his temper. . "Do you excuse his destruction of: an innocent girl, and abandonment of I her and her child ?" he said. With one quick movement I threw i open the folding-doors, and showed him Eva and ber son. "Allow me to introduce you to my brother's wife and child, whom he left in ray protection. But his words had made me uneasy. That evening, seated with the baby on; my lap, I asked Eva where she had' been merried. "Alas!" she cried, "if I only knew! Tom took me to church - in a carriage. It was in this very city, but I don't know where. It was because I had no certificate of my marriage that I dared not go to my brother my dear noble brother who had struggled so hard, aud made himself, unaided, an honorable position and a name. I knew that a cruel slander concerning me has been carried to him that must almost have broken his heart". I took her hands away from her face and kissed her. "WVll find the church," I said. "There must be no slander about my dear brother's wife." - And I did find it after a few day's search. Then I got John Robinsons address he was a lawyer I found and requested him to call on me. J He came, a wonderfully grave hand some man, with something singularly manly and impressive about him. In my heart I thought: "No wonder Eva wept at thought of his displeasure. He is worth pleasing surely." I took him to the parlor. "I wish to reconcile you to your sister," I said. "She is my brother's wife." Then I left them together. After an hour or more Eva came for me. "John wants to say good-bye before he goes," said she. He took my hand in his, and looked into my eyes. "You are a good woman," fie said, earnestly. "May God bless you, and make you as truly happy as you have today made me! There was something in his mere look and tone a strength, a truth, a thorough reliability that gave me, comfort somehow. I found myself! thinking: "If it had been my fate to love such a man as that, I should be nearer hap piness than I am today." But I kept my thoughts to myself. Only from that hour I was sensible that I regretted my lost hopes and happiness for their own sake, far more than I mourned for the false lover on whom they had been founded, One week later all my property was sold. I had paid off Tom's debts; and accompanied by his wife and child, joined him in a distant home. There we began life anew. I had a small income still, and Tom obtained a lucrative position. The lesson of the past was not lost upon him. The sacrifice I had made was not in vain. Dear Tom was a changed man changed for the better. Whatever I had lost had been bis gain. And what had I lost? The money I counted less than nothing; and Harry Hatton 'b love was not worth a regret. What was it then ? I sighed for the trust betrayed the glamor and iUu sion gone from life so early. "Oh. to be well and truly lovedr I thought And then my thought! never went back to Harry. Another filled them. Strange Im pression that man had made upon me; seen only once; never to be forgotten. I thought of him constantly; and heard from him, through Eva, now and' then. "What is your brother's wife like M 1 J I 1 . . 1 . vl cva r i usueu uer once jusi to try ner. "He-has none," she answered. "I know what I should wish her to belike. tnougn. . ',-' And her eyes dwelt on me in a way that made my tell-tale color rise. -A few days afterwards she came to me lauffhinr. "I told John of your question, only hear what he says." and She reads aloud: "Tell Lydia my wife (that to to be, I hope) resides in your City. . I hope to visit you before very 4ps& and Intro ducts tier to you. - And lie did. WR& tbi Worry Christ mas season John eame. I think thai was the very happiest season of tey life. Of course you guess hew. it u ended. I smile nowlooking back aai remembering that I fancied once I loved another than John. - 1 That was a dream, but this All mv sacrifices have been waD i and au my loss was galntl realise 1 every time I hear pretty Eva snesJ meas I first spoka of har M $rj viwuw wane., i :