st O ■
JOH\ IX. CHRISTY.
DEVOTED TO NEWS, POLITICS, AGRICULTURE, EDUCATION AND GENERAL PROGRESS.
>£2.00 per Annum, in advanee.
ATHENS, GEORGIA TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 18,1877.
(TBMSHED EVERY WEDNESDAY,
inter of ltrocul and Wall Streeta, (up-otalrt.)
7-0 POXjJ-iA^S ^ "5rEAR,
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nice, for any time under one month. For longer pe-
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r* sales, per square $3.50
mortgage **ale», jier s,]uare 5.00
cs, 40 days, tiy Administrators, Executors or Guard’na. 6.50
citations of Administration or Guardianship 4.00
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professional anO business Curbs.
' s.x-har conn.
& H. conn.
u. Attends at Law,
UTOffice iu Pcuprco Building.
now ELL COBB
ANDREW J. COBB.
aLRX. S. SMWlIf.
RWIN <fc COBB,
j Attorneys at Law, Athens, 3a.
office comer Broad aud Thomas street*; over the .tore of
Ch’.iil*, Nickerson & Co. »ng31—ly
1‘ofE Bauhow. Davio C. Barrow. Jr.
1 )Al£I«OW BROS.
) ATT02SEYS AT LAW,
nrofflec over Tklmadgc, Hodgson * Co. tnnrtu.
J O. OWKN, M. U.
. Sarjeon, Atsoao'aer and Physician,
Itiuhvillf Motrict, Haul* county.
offer* his professional service# to the citizens of tlie Bor
roonding country. mart-tjr.
I) F. WOFFORD,
J) . Attorney at Law, Homer, 3a.
Will execute promptly all business entrusted to his
Collecting claims a spocUlty.
E mohy hfkkk,
A'.tomey-at-Law, Athens, 3a.
SWOfficc, No*. 4 and 5, Court Louse. decl»
niJWAUl) It. HA11DKN,
I’, (Late Judge V. S. Courts Nebraska and Utah, and now
Judge of Brooks County Court,)
Attorney at Law, Cuitman, Brooks Co., Qa.
I 'l.OY 1) & S1LMAN,
Attorneys at Law,
Will twscticc in tlie comities of Walton and Jackson.
IOIIN J. FLUY1>, J- «• SILMAN,
Covington, U&. mart Jefferson, lla.
J in’. O’KKLLKY’S
. Photograph Sallery,
Over .Snead & Co.'s Shoe store, Broad street, Athens, Oeor-
SERAPHINA’S SISTER JANE.
Scrapblna loves me dearly;
I love Seraphina, too.
Ob, her form's divine (or nearly)—
That’s of course Iwixt you and me.
I.ota of blisses Fate lias sent ns,
And we’d really not complain,
But for one who will torment us—
Scraphina's sister Jane!
Small is Scraphlno's sister,
Six years old, or thereabouts;
But, by jingo, she's a “twister,”
Fail of noise and tiny shouts.
Often when I’d gently whisper,
Seraphina’s kiss to gain,
Iu runa that intruding lisper,
Seraphina’s sister Jane.
When we in the garden wander.
J ust to view the plants, you know,
As our words are getting fonder,
And my loved one listens—to!
In she rushes, hair a tangle,
Like u doll that's gone insane;
Then I feel I'd like to strangle
Seraphina’s sister Jane.
Wlicu I next behold her figure,
At her I will make a spring.
And I'll say: “ When von get bigger,
Von won't like this sort of thing!
Courting has s brief existence—
Don't yon interrupt again;
When I'm here jnst keep your distance,
Scraplnua’s sister Jane.”
A STORY OF A WHI3PER.
“ When the suu sets, to morrow, be at
the stilo, by the cross-road.”
tered chimneys marked the site of her fa
ther’s factories—mile-stones on the road
to wealth. “It is all mine,” she murmur
ed. “ It will be mine in time, and I would
give it all to him with this” lifting her hand.
“ I would give it to him, and he rejects it.”
Yes; if Miss Lawrence could read signs,
Dean Hastings would reject her hand were
it offered him. But she was not sure; not
quite. Again her quick mood changed.
The flush died out of her cheek, and tears
[ crowded into her proud, dark eyes. “ Dean,
Dean, I would give you the tenderest, tru
est love a woman ever protfered. Oh, why
do you despise it t”
And yet, who was Dean Hastings T No
body. He was a gentleman by birth, its
true, but he had no meaus save what he
earned as one of the chief clerks in this
verj^actory—that of Lawrence and Law
rences Higj^usin was a baronet in an
attfoialug'wgh ’■'1 and Dean was in the
best society#-jlichUof n ^h afforded.
“So absiifif; scninaif^sJous” thought
Bella. “ for him to notice that stupid gov-
fo> Who’s that,” she rather j^jarply
a tap was heard at the door.
“ Oh, lAat do you want, Paulino t”
The lunch waited. So Miss Lawrence
went down with Huger on her lip. Her
mind was hard at work.
Do you think the father of all wicked
ness is in league with such of his children
as would forward his evil designs ou earth !
Does he make the way smooth for thorn
when they abaudon themselves to the
working out of their fierce passions of
hatred and revenge! Our forefathers used
to believe in these alliances of earth and
the devil; and we are at times fain to be-
The people were pouring out of St. Jame’s WUJl ? j*’ „ uu *
Chursli: Ills chief cUursh of the large tuwu I l0vfl lf h 10 deol bo not m to.goo
„,Eiobb, r »b,
some sad, fitful chords, something trom f
the Messiah; and under cover of their tf,’ * strikin „ Ilinfi that n!eht
melting sweetness the audacious whisper- ^ ^
er, a young and handsome man had bent a small favorite apartment
ionyard to make this appointment often sat in, and liked best. The
The two young ladies, to one ot whom he . , ’ ... , . .
had spoken, were walking down the aisle - scattered about it were rarely
sale by side. Dorothy Stoyans,'or whom lieautitul . M r. Lawrence was out. For
the whisper was undoubted^ mteiided, ^ , ia]e comuland of hor father’s, trans-
glam. eil up a luute \n>i k jj milted to Dean iu the morniug, had been
her golden curls But i chanced that the u 0 f her own.
other iady heanl it too, for her eara were she helJ out hef hand to him , and bado
subtle, ami a dark cl him take a chair near her. His handsome
sunshine of her face; her little hand clench- were fixed deferentially ou her face
e«l itselft spasmodically u “de r the nch lace hut there wis no warmth
of her shaw She fell back a «tep, and . them ' the ’ e not one sha dow of
glanced coldly into thetenderness towards her in his manner.
He was holding his batm hu^gloved hand, h(> . ut laiut and her | ips C oUl;
and ho bowed ° * ' . . J ® but still she hoped against hope; she would
met hers.^ At least, as ceremoniously ^ notRive up all wit h 0 ut a struggle. This
said, distantly The interview lasted half an hour; and
from the aisle to the vest! , what passed between them was never
reuce held out a tiny hand, which he could Probablyj in her desperation, An-
not do otherwise than tak . .... uabella Lawreuce let him gather uumis-
He released it immediately, notwitn-1 takably that her love was his—and she
standing her clinging touch, hut the little (bd j ove b j m wdb a p the terrible passion
hand was not to he so repulsed. It flutter- 0 f her fierce nature; and he on his side
ed to his arm, and rested there, just one ma y have allowed her to see that lie could
finger being ou the coat cuff. I not accept it. He may even have hinted
“ There is such a throng, iRU™ u red the K ber tj ia t his true affections were gis'eu
lady in an entreating tone of apology; aud to Mjgs gt eve ns, the poor girl-governess,
people never mind where they put their s0 ull j us tifiably despised by the great heir-
feet. I am sure my flounces will be m esg Auyway, when Dean Hastings quit-
rags.” ted the rich merchant's house that night,
Mr. Hastings perhaps anathematized hrst jj ePu knew that her hopes of happiness
the crowd and next the perishable flounces: I wero overj that despair l\ad set ini She
but what could he do, save take the gin reso i vod fy live lienceforh oiily for revenge,
under his wing! Dorothy looked hack Anuabella had seen a good deal of Mr.
and saw him coming down the steps with Hastings . It ca unot be deuied that he
the beautiful heiress hanging on his paid her some attention; that he met her
in that frightened, appealing, clinging advauce s ; jt not half way, at least a part
manner, which she knew so well how to Q j d But be nov - or cas t a thought to any-
put on. But Dorothy only smiled andnou- t hiDg serious; that great heiress, his mas-
dod brightly; she felt pertectly secure in Ueris daught r, was uot for him to aspire
the love of Dean Hastings, after that sweet ^. and ^ was on iy j a tely, when he began
whisper. I to detect somewhat of her true feelings
Each of these three people, when once f or b j m) that he had drawn in aud become
in the open air, went their way homeward I co hfto her with a purpose. Between that
in the mellow and bright October sunshine. j.j me aud this, he had met Dorothy Stevens;
But not before Miss Lawrence had detain-1 and i ea mt to love her, Aud now, in her
ed Dean Hastings for a chat. I hitter heart, Miss Lawrence was striving
“ Are you particularly engaged this af-1 ty hate him as much as she bad loved him.
ternoon, Mr. Hastings!” I She believed he had deliberately played
“ Yes, I am. I am going out of town at ber f a [ se , aud| aa shakspearo tells us,
once to see a sick friend, and shall not he l jj eP bas n0 fm-y jjjj 8 a woman scorned,
back before nine o’clock.” I Pll t she did him injustice there, Mr
“Nine o’clock!” she repeated, musingly, I Hastings had never felt lovo for ber, or
“Well, that will be time enough. Papa sought to make her think he did. Ot au
wishes to see you, if you can call.” extremely modest, uu-self-asserting nature
“ But I—oh, very well,” broke off Mr. good-looking though he was, he had deem.
Hastings. “ Tell him, if you please, that I ed that Miss Lawrence had hut flirted with
will endeavor to come.” him, amused herself with him, just as she
Within the shade of her own chamber, d j d with a host of other young men; and
Annabella Lawrence threw off her hat, and so the misapprehension had goue, and was
grasped at the lace collar around her bringing trouble in its train,
throat as if it were choking her. She paced Her hair pushed hack, her heart beating
up and down; then, pausing before the w ith all its tumultuous and varied pas-
pier-glass, she bent forward, and looked s j ou8 , Bella sat on after Mr. Hastings left,
at herself long aud earnestly.SHer dark The loud opouing and closing of the street
hair was silky, her black eyes nKhed fire, door, ami a swift footstep on the stairs
“ Youth aud beauty will work wonders aroused her. It was her cousin who en-
for their possessor. But what have they tered, one Richard Lawrence, a young man
done for me? They cannot wiu fu^ineIyf nine-and-twenty, who ljved with them,
the love I need; the love he gives to®aat He had a sujajl share in the business, and
pale, spiritless working-girl. Ah! it makes I dt) hoped, by dint oi playing his cards
me sick to think of her! I know he cares we n ( to succeed to it after Mr. Lawreuce.
for her—and does he think I do uot see I jir. Richard also hoped to succeed to
that he cares not for me ! It is her fault. I something else—Miss Lawrence. He did
But for her, he would turn to me and love not love her; but he did love her mouey,
me. Oh, Dean, Dean, l love you! Why do for the ruling passion of his heart was ava-
you not see it!—or do you see it, and yet I nee. It he loved one person more than
will uot respond to it T” another, it was pretty Dora Stevens; her
She threw her arms up with a passionate golden hair and sweet blue eyes were wont
gesture ot sorrow; and then bent her head to haunt him as he sat in the counting
oq ber hands in pain. house over bis account-hooks. But he
“It I And—4t I find,” she resumed, lift said nothing to her, aud meant nothing;
ing her pale face, “ that he cares for her a poor goveruess could never be the wife
seriously that he neglects me for her, l for him j he wanted one endowed with the
swear that both shall suffer—he as well as mines of Golconda,
she. I—swear—it!” He and his cousin Bertha understood one
Anything more vindictive than the tone another. That is, she understood him. She
of her emphatic words, than the expres- saw that he wanted her for his wife on ac-
sion of her pale face, was never seen or count of her money; she knew how abject
heard Bella Lawrence was not a girl to (with this aim in view,) a slave he was to
he crossed lightly. Hep face, sufficiently her, how he bent before all her whims and
beautiful when she was at rest pr in her caprices, and that she could turn him
tender moods, was half diabolical now, rquud her little finger. On his part, he
Her great dark eyes flashed fiercely, a hot suspected ber fapey for Dean Hastings
flush burned on her soft, round, olive\ fancy, he thought it, nothing more; Sjut
cheeks and through her full, red Ups her he was outrageously jealous of that, and
sharn-uointod white teeth gleamed craftily. there were moments when he wished he
It wasnomble that in berscbQOl days she could seethat gentleman hanging on the
had beeu nicknamed “the oat,” and that Rarest tree; ay, and could have helped
her companions had given her full credit to hang mm,
for all a cat’s spiteful nature when angered. Richard Lawrence did not love Mr. Hast
She and Dorothy Stevens had been educat- mgs on his own score. He was a little
ed at the same school; the one was a rich West India fellow, with a dark face and
) H. HUGGINS,
• Wholesale aud Retail Deader iu
X)tj Scods, Groceries, Hardware, Ac.
f c l>16 11 road Street, Athene, Gft.
J AMES R. IjYLK,
Attorney at Law,
.ItcM IrJ TKIXS PILLS, a A.
J OHLN M. MATTHEWS,
Attorney at Law, Lanielsville, Ga.
Prompt aUculiun will Ik given to any business entrusted to
bis care. tnsrchl.
J zYMICiS L. LONG. M. Li.,
Surgeon, Accoucheur aud Physician,
Ofleeat Mr. humat Shcato'Store, Good Hope District, Wal-
tan county, Georgia.)
Off ere his professional services to the citizens of the sjur-
oumlimr country autf2»
• Attorney at Law, Franklin, X. C.
Prsclirus iu all the Courts oi Western North Carolina, and
in the Fwiore! Courts. Claims collected in all parts of the
| IVKBY, Feed Ac Sale Stable,
'j UAXN tt REAVES, Prop’s, Athens, Ga.
AMI Iw found at their old stand, rear Franklin House build-
Tliomas street. Keep always on hand good turn-outs
did careful drivers.
Stock well cared for when entrusted to onr care.
Stock ou hand for sale at all times. dec25—tf
S AMUEL P. THURMOND,
At toms j at Law, Athens, (la.
Office on Broad street, over the store of J. M. Barry—will
give special ntteution to cases in Bankruptcy. Also, to the
collection of all claims entrusted to his care.
S C. DOHII8,
• Wholesale and Retail Dealer in
Staple and Fancy Dry Goods, Groceries, Ac.
foht Lower end of Broad Street, Athens, Ga.
]) G. THOMPSON,
• Attorn:v at Law,
* ATHKSS, GA.
Office over the Post Office. Special attention given to crimi
nal practice. For reference, apply to Ex-Gov. Thomas II.
.Watts aud Uon. David Clopton, Montgomery, Alabama. fcb8
W " J. RAY,
Attorney and Counsellor at Law,
**—win glva prompt attention to all business entrusted to
a is cat*. angHS—tf
T A. 1LBU.
HM rc/l.v.i KKK A XD JSU SLKR,
Next door to Heaves «fc Ni.liolsou, Thomas st., Atukks, Ox.
All work warranted twelve months. septl*
By Mrs. C. S. SIMPSON,
IOC CO A CITY, GA.
Amnle accommodations for the public, aud especially Som
mer vts'.tors. Good rooms, excellent fare and reasonable
nri zc§ Two miles from Toccoa * alls—nearest house to the
h,oou _ _ “»rt 8m
ALEL S. ERfflH.
JAMES R. LYLE.
^Ittomoyo at Xsa/w.
-ifriu. practice in partnership in the Superior Court of
W Oconee county, and promptly to ail business en-
J. R. CHRISTY,
SIESWUPHK5 BEPOBTEB FOR THE WESTERN CIRCUIT.
W nr. ,tund Courts and trials (other than Superior Court)
and furaiab accurate reports of evidence and report
civU cases in Superior Courts, on reasonable terms. Will
also eive iustruettou In short-hvnd wriUiur—Mienography—
Anrlnu the ss-slons ** *be —*•' ‘ *'b MH
tnJ diseases of INFANTS and ClfiL
oitm??ild thlfcnnoxK-' diseases of females
JuneOT, 1S75—jant* _ **■ RLWU '
C. B. VERONEE,
FB ACT. UAL SLATE AN It TIN IUJ0FKB, GUTTDBEB, *e.
Plain and Ornamental Slate as
cheap as Tin!
a 11 work done at 1W lowest rates and In the best manner.
4<£°k h »°U A^KTd^^ Y. U G llarris,
will receive prompt attention.
Wagon Yard in Athens.
and all other neceaaary
ablo terms. Charcea n _ _ .
Vho highoct maricet price paid for CounUy Produce, and
idankbilU received in exchange for GoodJi^
a safe, comforta-
* in the!
Igc, wucre wiuii rvJDKR,
cube purchased on reaeon-
WTLEY p. hood
“BOOT & SHOE
nn HE tmflerslgned has * Aot of flne dress Boom, which bo
tui these boots '
less, liora was tn a family now, fthfl
Lawrence condescended to speak to her
uow and then when they mot ...
Bella walked to the window and stood
JWking thoughtfully out. What a lovely
scene it was! The house stood on the out
skirts of the town; WU and vale laystretch-
ed out before hep, aud waving woodlands
tinted with autumn’s unrivalled colors.
Along the line of the river, splrea and dua-
one of the best-looking of men, and charm
ed everytjcjdy j the result being that while
the one was courted in society, the other
often found the oold shoulder turned upon
him. And thus Richard Lawrence was
prime for any little bit of by-play against
Hastings that might be proposed to him.
Not that he expected any such proposal;
nothing could bo farther from his thoughts.
It came, nevertheless-
“ Why—what is the matter, Anuabella!”
“It was the face of his cousin that call
ed forth the exclamation. Bella passed her
soft cambric handkerchief across her brow.
“ It’s that wretched Hastings. He has
been here insulting me.”
“ What!” cried Richard, angrily rising.
And Miss Bella Lawrence entered upon
a graphic tale. Some little truth there was
in it, but the greater porti -n was the con
coction of her own fertile brain. Hastings
had dared to talk of love to her, she hint
ed, while he had unconsciously betrayed
that he was playiug fast and loose with
Dora Stevens—villain that ho was. And
there was nothing for it but bis being sent
instantly out of Richborougb.
“ Instantly!” exclaimed Richard, lifting
his head. “ But, Bella, I don’t think he
can be spared.” _*
“ As you please, Dick. I do care for him
a little—and perhaps you know that k do.
Let him remain here, and I wont anSfter
for what may happen. Some fine morning
you and papa may find that he has ran
away with me. He is audacious enough
for that, or anything else; and women like
audacity in men, yon know.”
Richard Lawrence knitted his brews.
“ As to thpt governess girl, he nofioubt
fully intends to kidnap her, whether irffite"
uot; she’s nobody ; provided he can keep
the knowledge of it from me. Wives
don’t care to hear of these things, you see.
I have sometimes thought you liked the
girl a little bit, yourself, Richard.”
“ She’s a nice pleasant little girl enough,”
said Richard. “ Honest as the day, and
“ Aud friendless,” added Bella, with
quite a display of benevolent feeling.
Well, Richard, for her sake you should
“ Let me think it out,” said Richard. “ 1
hardly see how it is to be done. Your
father leaves a great deal of control to me
but he does not leave it all. And—how
long is he to go for f ’
“ For good,” answered Bella, passion
ately. “ As I cannot have him, she shall
not,” she added to herself; and her face
for the moment wore the fierceness of a
tiger’s. “ Why can’t you send him out to
our cotton plantations iu the Barbadoes,
“Because—because—I don’t know
why. It has never beeu thought of Bella;
he has beeu too useful where he is.”
‘ Has any oue gone out to take the
place of the chief clerk there, who died ?”
“ Not yet. Proctor is partly promised it.”
Their eyes met. Proctor was the chief
clerk immediately under Hastings; why
uot substitute the one for the other? It
was the question that Richard was read
ing in her fixed look.
“ I would; I’d be glad to bo rid of the
fellow,” said Richard, answering the gaze.
But these appointments do not lie with
me. Your father bas always made them.
Huse! here he comes.”
Mr. Lawrence came in slowly. Iu walk
ing across tlie room to au easy chair, Bella
saw that ho limped - ' •
“ Are you not well, papa!”
“ Any thing but that, I am afraid, my dear.
I am in fora fit of the gout again, unless
I greatly mistake. My toot lias given me
twinges all day ; aud now I can hardly bear
it. Remember one thing, Richard; it 1 do
jet laid up, you must not bother mo as you
did last time, bringiug all sorts of trifles to
me—you must act for yourself. You are
as capable as 1 am.”
A faint sound of exultation, suppressed
instantly, broke from Bella’s lips. This
threatened illness, this extension of power
to Richard seemed to be happening ou pur
Surely the devil did appear to be in
league with these good people ! For with
the morning Mr. Lawrence was plunged
deep into au agonizing fit of the gout, could
not leave his bed, and his servants were
runuing all over Richborough for the most
“ Is that you, Mr. Hastings ? Home here.”
The speaker was Richard Lawrence. He
sat in post of honor in tho/jountiug-house,
and Dean, as he entered, iu obedience to
the mandate, saw it with some surprise ;
for that place belonged only to the head
“ You are a little late this morning.”
“ I am: it is a quarter past uino,” re.
plied Dean, good-humoredly. “Tiuthis,
I got an important letter from an old col
lege chum, aud waited to answer it.”
“ Ah; one generally gets hindered at the
wrong moment,” observed Richard with a
pleasant smile. “ I want you to get oil
to the station and take the ten o’clock traiu
“ Are you joking, Lawrence!”
“ Not a bit of it. There’s something wroDg
about the cargo of cotton just iu, and you
most go down to see about it. I should
have gone myself but for the Governor’s
illness. Ho is in top a fit of goqt agaju, and
I must stay here to take his place.”
Dean’s f&ce wore a blank look. “ I wish
I had known this before.”
“ No doubt. I know nothing about it
till the letters got* iu this morning. The
governor ordered mo not to bother him
with trifles, but I thought he ought to know
something about this. “ As you can’t go
yourself,” said he “ you must sond Hastings
down. Let him he off by the first train.”
So you have no time to lose, you see.”
Yes, his Satanic Majesty was certainly
at work; for it was a positive fact that
this news about the cargo ot cotton was
no fable, aud that somebody had to go to
Liverpool. Apart from any scheming, that
somebody would probably have been Dean
“ When the sun sets be at the stile by the
It was this remembered sentence which
was troubling his mind. Dora would go to
Jhe trysting place that evening, and go in
vain. Legitimate commuuicatiou between
herself aud him was difficult at times; but
now he had no time to plan for or to risk
it. He glanced at the clock hanging over
the desk. No; there was just time for him
to dash home to his lodgings, tumble a
few things into a portmanteau, aud dash
uu to the station.
“ Weu, I suppose I must be off then.
What are my instructions ?”
“ I am writing them down for you.”
Perhaps the word ‘ writing 1 inspired Dean
with an idea; or, perhaps it was the little
delay. Seizing paper and pen, he began a
note’ to Dora, Tfien he hesitated; wonder
ing how he should get it oonveyed to ber.
His head seeded in a whirl—an unusual
thing. Richard was writing fast, and the
noise worried him. Scratch! scratch’
Tick! tick! How that horrid clock hur
ried (he minutes away. If he could only
stop it. If he could only put out his hand
and stop those hits of steel which wore
whirling his time away so fast. If he could
only stop time itself. But no! Then an
other idea struck him; and he wrote rapid
ly and fastened up the note.
“ Here,” said Richard, handing him a
folded paper, with some money. “ Good
luck to you, Hastings, and don’t lose more
Richard seemed so gracious at that mo
ment, that Dean was wondering whether
he might not trust him with the note’s de
livery—the idea which had been floating
with uncertainty shrough his mind. He
looked at him, then glanced at the note,
aud looked again.
“ Can I do anything for you P asked
Richard, blandly. i
“ Well, you can, Lawrence. I think I can
trust you ; though I am truly sorry to give
you the trouble. You know the Calloways
wffil—and Darothy Stevens, the governess;
if you’d not mind calling there and putting
this into her hand privately, I should be
“ All right,” said Richard,
his hand tor, the note.
“ But you ET-W|pbher bavSit ,
Richard Law^I&e nodded as ho slipped
the note into his pocket. And Dean Hast
ings made all speed for the train.
“ Tell Mr- Lawrence how sorry I am that
he is ill,” he waited to say. “I hope he will
soon be up again.”
As to Richard, he found a minute to ran
to Miss Lawrence to report progress; and
he showed her the note.
“ I’ll undertake that,” said Bella. “ Give
it to me.”
It used to be the fashion in uovels of
the Rosa Matilda school to represent young
governesses as beings of incomparable
beauty, safe to cause havoc in the heart
of the house’s eldest sou and heir, aud trou
ble to everybody else in consequence. Now
this had absolutely happened in the case
of Dorothy Stevens—although she could
uot boast of much beauty, save in her flue
golden hair and sweet blue eyes, and, it
may be, in an innoceut, confidiug expres
sion of countenance. Upon leaving school
a situation had been found for her iu the
house ot Sirs. Calloway—a rigid gentlewo
man who boasted of high descent; to con
duct the education of her only daughter.
There was an only son, as well, much old-
twenty-one, in fact; and he fell forth
with in love with the governess’s pretty
os aud hair, after the alleged customs of
those half-fledged youngsters. For a long
while Mrs. Calloway suspected not tlie
treason hatching in her son’s heart: and
she, confiding woman, continued to have
Miss Stevens down to the drawing-room
whenever she received evening guests;
for the young lady, don’t you see, was use
ful in the matter of playing and singing.
Now and then Dorothy went out with them
also; always when the daughter went. It
was iu these social eveniug gatherings
that Mr. Hastiugs had seen her and learnt
to love her; aud she, poor girl, had no no
tion that auyboy else did. Young Mr. Cal
loway, who was of a bashful, nervous tem-
peraraent, kept his sentiments to himself,
and did not aunoy Dora; she only used to
wonder why lie stared at her so, and wish
ed he would not. But oue unlucky day ho
came to the desperate resolution ot declar
ing his love, aud penned a letter describ
ing it. By some awkward mischance it
fell into the possession of Mrs. Calloway
instead of that of the governess, and a
fiuo hubub it caused. Dora, with earnest
words and tealful eyes, protested that she
ad been in utter ignorance of the trea
son; aud Mis. Calloway, believing it iu
her secret heart, and not cariug to part
with her, kept her on; but she spoke to
her iu very severe terms, and candidly
avowed that she would exercise a rigid es
pionage over her in the future. Dora agreed
to that williogly. She was couscious of no
ill; moreover, she was a friendless orphan
and feared to throw herself out of Mrs.
Calloway’s situation, lest she should uot
find aqother. Young Mr. Calloway was
sent to the cave of a clergyman at a dis
tance, to read up for the Cburob, whieh he
was to enter.
From that time, Dora fouud herself next
kin to a prisoner. No more evening parties
for her, no more social meetings. Mrs
Calloway exercised the right (she said she
possessed it) of opening her letters. Dora
made no objection; she had never had but
one letter siuce she entered the house, aud
that was from her former governess
“ Characters are much easir lost than
regained amidst young people who have
to earu their bread; aud I consider it my
duty to take care of yours,” Mrs. Calloway
observed to her by way of semi-apology
aud Dora thought she was right (as no
doubt she was) aud thaukod her kindly
But all this put a greqt barrier between
heraqd Mr. Hastjngs^at least between
their meetjugs, He thought it was Dora';
fault, aud a slight coolness had arisen in
consequence. He felt inclined to bo jeal
ous of Mr. Charles Calloway, whose cause
of banishment had reached him, though
not through Dora; and she had always
beeu somewhat jealous of the great heiress
Miss Lawrence, with whom Mr. Hastiugs
was so frequently seen. Still, she did trust
him; she believed he loved lier the best,
and that when he was rich enough to mar
ry lie would make her his wife, as he one
day told her he would. She, iu her un
pretentious ideas, thought he was quite
rich enough now for auything; he had
large salary; but she and Mr. Hastiugs had
been brought up with quite opposite notions
on that point.
“ When the sun sets be at the stile at the
cross roads,” he had whispered in her ear.
Evening came; and just as the suu was
sinking below the western hills, Dora
Stevens crossed Mrs. Calloway’s garden
to the copse beyond. For the trysting-
place was but just behind Mrs. Calloway’s
boundary hedge. It was the first time
Dora had deliberately met him, there or
elsewhere, but a tew evenings before, upon
returning from a walk with Miss Calloway,
they had accidentally encountered him
that spot aud stayed to talk. But Dora
fell rather sorry now for the tacit assent
she had given to his request; she gave
on the impulse of the moment; and she
meant to tell him this evening that she
could not meet him again unless openly,
It was not right to do so; neither would
Mrs. Calloway allow it.
Nevertheless, despite of conscience, her
heart was foolishly light as she sped along
through the rustling leaves. She sang
lightly some pretty, silly nonsense about
the lasses oh, which one-Robert Burns
wrote many years ago; wrote perchance
in days when ho, too sat by the stile with
his Highland Mary, and watched the birds
hopping in the stubble, or the poppies
nodding in the corn.
Dora, as she drew near the trysting-place
saw a shadow as of some one waiting near
the stile, half hidden by the tangled branch
es oi the copse, thick yet with leaves above
No need to guess who it was, though
Dora, as she pulled her pretty hat lower
on her face, and pushed back her prettier
hair. How good of him to come so early
and wait for her. Suddenly a voice spoke;
not the voice that Dora had expected to
“Dean, is it you! Have you come back!”
The voice was that of Miss Lawrence.
It was* Bella Lawrence who confronted
Dora’s pale, surprised face with a face quite
as surprised and a gr^at deal whiter—for
it was a hazardous l
and with a perf(
I» thought it
“ You here, Miss Lawrence!” she said,
with struggling breath, “ I don’t understand
Did you speak ot—of Mr. Hastings?” for a
terrible fear had rushed into her mind ;
that it was Bella with whom he had sought
make the appointment, not herseli.
“ You must not betray me,” whispered
Bella, with the sweetest air of timidity im
aginable. “ You kuow my father is so proud
and Dean is only his clerk, but he loves me
', and wo have so few opportunities to
meet. You must not blame me, Miss Ste
vens, or think harshly of me for coming
here at times to meet him. We shall not
always have to be secret: when I am of
age my late mother’s money will be my
own, and then we can claim each other.
He told me this morning he might be un
able to keep his appointment, for he was
going off ou some business journey; but
—I hoped against hope, and came. And
when I hoard your footsteps, I thought
they were his. Ah me!”
Bella clasped her soft hands together in
deprecation and her head on them as she
spoke; and Dortohy Stevens listened with
wild, wide eyes, while word followed after
word of that cruel lie fell ou her quivering
heart and smote her with a deathly cold
pain, whose sting would cliug to tier. Aud
the words were fitly chosen. The girl’s
allusion to her mouey cut keenly and close
Dora bit her lips to keep from crying
out then. She was only a poorgoverness;
her only dowry her tender heart and sweet
wild-rose lace, aud her great absorbing
love for the man who was false to her.
Without one word she rose aud turned
to go, but Bella caught her by the arm aud
“ Wait, please : how strange you are !
Why do yon look so wild at me! You
won’t betray us ; promise me that you will
uot betray us.”
Dora drew proudly back. “ I never
betray. You have my word. I never
broke it yet! I—I am sorry I came.”
“ Why* did you come ? This is so unfre
quented a pathway.”
A cry, iu spite of herself broke from the
poor girl’s lips. There are moments in
life when anguish is stronger than we are,
when reticence is overborne in his whirling
“Oh, Heavau, help me to bear this
pain!” she sobbed ; aud down she fell in
heap on the grass, and bowed her fair
golden head, aud rocked herself back and
forth, with wild hysterical sobs, iu spite
ot those cruel unrelenting eyes above her.
“ What do you mean by this emotion!”
asked Bella, sternly. “What is the mat
ter ? Is it possible—but no, it cannot be,
Yet he has more than once hinted of a
something that might come between him
and me—some irksome, halt-passing
amusement that clung to him like au in
cumbus, though he was doing his best to
shake it off. Is it you. Can it be you, you
ridiculous girl t”
Dora rose up, her fiee white as death
and lifted a warning hand.
“ Stop, Miss Lawrence. I will not bear
another word. I do not stand between
you aiid your talse lover ; yes, he is false
in spite of what he says to you, talse and
cowardly. You need not fear him. I will
never come between him aud you
have no money to keep him, aud he is
free from all he has said to mo. I will
never speak to him again ; never. You
can toll him so from me. Never again.”
With the last words Dora turned away,
passed into the grounds, aud ran swiftly
home. But not very long had Miss Law
reuce reached her fatfier’a house, before
Dora was abown into ber room. Pale,
wild-eyed, a shawl wrapped about her,
Dora put down a letter. A hasty, blotted,
nicely-written-letter in that passionate
hour—oh, how cruelly, and likely, after it
was received, to put all the wide world
between her and her lover. For when
girls are strung into madness, they do all
kinds of incomprehensible things, never
sparing those who have injured teem
“It is my renouncement!’’ Dora panted.
“I thought I would bring it to you, and
you would send it to him as you know
where he is gone. Bid him never answer
it. Let him never in honor speak to me
again—never look at me. Fare you well.
Miss Lawrence. I wish you both well.”
Mr. Richard Lawrence did not do bis
work by halves. In spite ot Mr. Lawrence’s
gout and his confinement to the counting
house, he found time to run down to Liv
erpool and talk over some arrangements
with Daan Hastings. And the very next
day Richborough heard that Mr. Hastings
had sailed for the West Indies. Some
complications had arisen out there, and
Mr. Hastings was gone to set them to rights.
Meanwhile, Miss Lawrence paid a friend
ly visit to Mrs. Calloway, during which she
imparted a few hints of that designing Do
rothy Stevens’ wickedness, in wanting to
come between her and a gentleman ‘
whom she was privately engaged. Mrs.
Calloway lifted her hands and eyes, and
readily promised that if any letters ,came
for Miss Stevens (unless in the handwriting
of her infatuated son, of whom she did
feel assured yet) they should be sent in
tact to the heiress.
And Dora, finding herself looked upon
with suspicion at Mrs. Calloway’s, treated
coldly, yearning to get away firom Richbor
ough, the scene of her misery, besought
that lady to get her a situation at a dis
tance. Mrs. Calloway seized upon
idea, and lost no time in doing it; but she
made.a stipulation with the girl that she
should not discloso to Richborough where
her new home was.
“ Indeed I will not,” acquiesced the poor
girl, all too readily. “ I shall never care to
see Richborough again, or to hear of it.”
Dean Hastiugs was plowing his way ou
the ocean; and of the two women left be
hind it would be difficult to say which of
their lives was the most desolate, wanting
him; for when Dorothy's angry passion
was over, the first sharp sting of his false
hood and his desertion past, then her ten
derness returned. Night by night sho
bent in prayer for him at her bedside:
Lord, watch over him and protect him!
Help him, aud keep him from all harm.”
Mr. Hastings landed in safety. The first
packet of letters he received from home
contained that angry oue of renouncement,
written by Dora. Not that it betrayed an
ger, only a calm, studied coldness. Open
ing mechanically the letter that lay next to
it, he found it in the handwriting of Miss
Lawrence. This letter chiefly contained
items of news, written in a playful style;
one of them ran as follows: “ Will you be
surprised to hear that Mrs. Calloway has
at length given iu to the persistency of
the young people ? Report says they are
about to be married shortly. Do not break
your heart; Dorothy Stevens is not worth
It is very wrong of her to be so much
given to flirting—worse than I am; aud
that, perhaps you will say, need not be.”
The time went on; two years of it.
Dean Hastings had left soon the employ
Mr. Lawreuce and entered that ot anoth-
house iu the West Indies, connected
with Richgorough. News was heard of
him but rarely; but at the end ot the two
years tidings came. Bad tidings, worse
than had ever come before. He had died
of yellow fever.
Close upon that, Annabella Lawrence
gave her hand to her cousin. Her ill-star
red passion, already nearly dead, dead of
its very hoplessness, was now thrust away
from her heart forever. She entered upon
her reign, as queen* of society, heartless,
callous, self-indulgent—but so she always
But what of Dora Stevens ? She was
more isolated in her uew home than she
had been at Mrs. Calloway’s; but she quiet-
did ber duty in it. Her heart uncou-
ciously remained true to its first love. She
did not hope; that would bo saying too
much; but she did believe that all must bo
at au end between Dean and Miss Lawreuce
—else why had he uot come home to claim
her? But oue day, upon taking up the
Richborough Gazette, she read in it the
death of Dean Hastiugs, of yellow fever—
Until then she had not realized how
great a part in her heart’s life ho had tilled.
Folding her hands, she wept lonely and bit
“When the sun sets.” Can you picture
that solitary girl's figure standing iu the
sunset that same evening, herhaud shading
her eyes, and gazing out over the sea in
imagination towards the spot where her
once fond lover lay iu au alien grave.
Look at her. The sunlight rests on tlie
hill-tops behind, but sho stands in shad
“I loved him,” she cries iu passionate
remembrance. “I loved him; and—I—be
lieve he once loved me. I love him still.
Did he die thinking I was false to him ?
Oh, can there be anything iu life or death
more cruel than that!”
Her hands are lifted to her brow, as if to
press down its throbbing. The pain there
seems more than she can bear.
“Do you think he knows now !” sho goes
on, fitting ber aching eyes as if iu imaginary
appeal to the gold aud amethyst clouds
left by the sunset. “Are all things made
plain in that other world?—are all the
cruel mysteries that perplex us here, the
misunderstandings aud the sorrows made
plain at last ?”
Some three weeks, it might have been,
after this, that Dora received a small, del
icately-papered packet. It contained wed
ding cake and cards; Mr. aud Mrs. Richard
“She has lost no time,” mused Dora that
same evening, when, her duties over for
the day, she stoed in her favorite spot
beyond the laurels, under the sunset. “No
time if she was waiting lor him. Oh, I
wonder how it all was ? Did he love her!
—But, why ask it!—to what end now ?
She is here, beginning her wedded fife;
and he—lies there.”
It appeared, however, if she spoke of
Dean Hastings (as she undoubtedly did),
that he did uot fie there, lie was at her
eloow. His footsteps fell softly over the
grass, and she did not ’see or hear him
until he came around the laurels.
‘I beg your pardon, Miss Steveus. I
took the liberty of calling at the house to
ask for you, aud an old servant told me
you had come out here.”
She did not faint; but she did scream.
Yes, it was Dean Hastings, looking ill aud
“Is ityourself ?” shegasped. “We thought
you were dead.”
“But I did not die, Dorothy. I was given
over in the yellow fever; and somehow
or other my death got reported here, I find.’
“ And what have you come over for T”
she asked, all in a tremble of confusion.
“ Various odds and ends of matters. To
get up my strength, for one thing; and to
settle down at Richborough, tor I am not
going back ; and to marry you, if you will
“ I have heard a word or two dropped
from one and another at Richborough,
Dorothy, for it is there that I have stayed
since I landed; and I begin to think that
you and I had some false friends. You
are not yet Mrs. Charles Calloway — 1 "
“ Oh 1” put in Dorothy.
“ Stay a bit, my dear. And I am not
yet the husband of Miss Lawrence. She
has taken another, by the way. So—do
you see any reason why wj should not
take one another! No impediment exists
now, my darling; I am in a good position;
a partner of tlie house lam in ; and can
set up our tent well. Dora, what do you
say! Yon know, at least you ought to
know, that I never would have marriod
anyone but you”
What did she say! Nothing. She yiaD
ded herself to the arms held out to her,
and bent her face down on the true hearted*
sheltering breast, happy sobs; joyful tears,
bedewing it Ob, how merciful was God!
The sun went down behind the bill in a
blaze ot glory. Its last lingering rays Of
crimson and purple fell upon them as they
thejstood together in happiness.