The Southern watchman. (Athens, Ga.) 1854-1882, September 18, 1877, Image 1
r ► Get Wi st O ■ ri» JOH\ IX. CHRISTY. DEVOTED TO NEWS, POLITICS, AGRICULTURE, EDUCATION AND GENERAL PROGRESS. >£2.00 per Annum, in advanee. VOLUME XXIV. ATHENS, GEORGIA TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 18,1877. NUMBER 25. SOUTHERN WATCHMAN (TBMSHED EVERY WEDNESDAY, inter of ltrocul and Wall Streeta, (up-otalrt.) TERMS. 7-0 POXjJ-iA^S ^ "5rEAR, INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE. ADVERTISING. tisemcut* will bo inserted at ONE DOLLAR per square .•st insertion, and FIFTY CENTS peraqaaru for each nice, for any time under one month. For longer pe- iilHT.il deduction will lie made. LEGAL ADVERTISING. 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 KWice to Debtors and Groditors 6.JI0 Kules Nisi, tier square, each iusertion 1.00 U'-ave to sell Real Estate * v • J-JJJ Citation for dismission of Administrator 5.00 *« ** « 4 Guardian 6.00 To ascertain the nnmber of squares in an advertisement or it Unary, count the words—one hundred lielug a square. All 'Motions are counted as full squires. 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, ATHKSS, OA. 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. aptil—tf 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- gi». ce|.t3 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.” [London Punch. ONE WOMAN'S^TREACHERY. 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» K klias, • 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 State. apie—ly | 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, MONROE, GEORGIA. **—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* J) AVKNFOllT HOUSE, 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. vWaUBnsvIUa. ^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 Medical Notice. 4 to, tnJ diseases of INFANTS and ClfiL oitm??ild thlfcnnoxK-' diseases of females JuneOT, 1S75—jant* _ **■ RLWU ' Insuiunce. C. B. VERONEE, FB ACT. UAL SLATE AN It TIN IUJ0FKB, GUTTDBEB, *e. —ATHENS, GA,- 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, above will receive prompt attention. Wagon Yard in Athens. 1 b iteighl 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 ESTABLISHMENT. nn HE tmflerslgned has * Aot of flne dress Boom, which bo tui these boots ' iwwmW p. well. 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 worthy.” “ Aud friendless,” added Bella, with quite a display of benevolent feeling. Well, Richard, for her sake you should banish him.” “ 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, Richard ?” “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 pose. 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 able physiciaus. “ 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 aud chief. “ 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 for Liverpool.” “ 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 Hastings. “ When the sun sets be at the stile by the cross road.” 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 time.’’ 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 truly obliged.” “ All right,” said Richard, his hand tor, the note. “ But you ET-W|pbher bavSit , o’clock.this^erno6u<r*:tiiSt’sA ind 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 and below. 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 hear. “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( her manner. playing— onfuBion in I» thought it i\ Lawrence here.” isappoint- IpresB, flood- her white .or cheeks. __ “ 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 held her. “ 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 torrent. “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 had been. 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— aged twenty-eight. 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 ter tears. “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 ow. “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 Lawrence.” “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 shadowy. “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 have me.” “Oh,Mr. Hastings!” “ 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.