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MAKGERrS ROMANCE.
BV TUOMAS HAHDY.
CHAPTER Vlt
Jim thoughtfully retraced hi# step*. Ho
was a village < hartt' ter, aud bo had a vil
lager’* simplicity—that is, the simplicity
which comas from the laf k of a complicated
experience. But simple uy uatur.- ne cer
tainly was not. Among the rank and file
of rustics he was quite a Talleyrand, or.
rather, had been one, till he lost a good
deal of self-command by falling in lore.
Now, however, that the charming object
of his distraction was out of sight he could
deliberate, and measure, and weigh things
with some approach to keenness. The sub
stance of his queries was, what change had
come over Margfry—whence these new no
tions?
Fonder as he would, be could evolve no
answer save one, which, eminently unsatis
factory as it was, he felt it would b>e un- |
reasonable uot to accept; that she was sim
ply skittish and ambitious by nature, and
would not be hunted into raatrim my till
he bud prwidod v well adorned horn*
Jim returned to the kiln, and looked to
the Urea The kiln stood in a peculiar, In
teresting, even improtslve spot It was at
the end of a short ravine in the lower
chalk formation, and all around was an
open hilly down or coomb. Tfce nearest
house was that of Jim s cousin and partner,
whi h stood on the outskirts of the down
besi le the turnpike road. From this loum
a li*tie lane wound between tbe steep es
iarpUK’nt* of the ravine till it reached the
kiln, wl ' ‘ faced down the miniature val
ley, cou. .d.ng it as a fort might com
mand a defile.
The idea of a fort in thle aseoclation
owed little to imagination. For on the
nibbled green steep above tbe kiln stood a
by-gone, worn-out specimen of such an
erection, huge, impressive, and dilftault to
scale even now in its decay. It was a
British castle or entrenchment, with triple
ring* of defense, rising roil *>Mnd roll,
their outlines cutting sharply ag dust the
by, and Jim s kiln marly undermining
their base. When the lime-kiln flared up
in the night, which it often did, its Urea
lit up the front of those ramparts to a
great majesty. They were old friends of
bis; and while keeping up the heat through
tbe long darkness, as It was sometimes his
duty to do, he would imagine the dancing
lights and shades about the stupendous
earth-work to be the forms of those giant-*
who (be supposed) had heaped it up. Often
he clambered upon it, and walked about
the summit, thinking out the problems ooti
nected with bis business, his partner, his
future, his Margery.
It was what he did this evening, contin
uing the meditation on the young girl’s
manner that he had begun upou the road,
and still, as then, finding no clew to the
change.
While thus engaged he observed a man
oomiug up the ravine to the kiln. Business
messages wore almost invariably left at the
hou-e Inflow, and Jim watched the man
with the interest excited by a belief that
he had come on a personal matter. On
nearer approach Jim rocog.diced him as the
gardener at Mount Lodge. If this meant
business, the Baron (of whoso arrival Jim
had vaguely hoard was anew and unex
pected customer.
It meant nothing else, apparently. (*he
man’s errand was simply to iuform Jim
that the Baron required a load of lime for
the garden.
“You might have saved yourself trouble
by leaving word at Mr. Vine’s,” said Jim.
“I was to see you personally,” sold the
gardener, “and to say that the Baruu
would like to inquire of you about the
different qualities of lime proper for such
purposes.”
“Couldn’t you tell him yourself ?” said
Jim.
“fie said I was to tell you that,” replied
the gardener; “and it wtint for me to In
terfere. ”
No motive other thim (he ostensible one
could possibly be conjectured by Jiin Hey
ward at (bis time; and the next morning
he started with great pleasure, in his best
busman suit or clothes. By 11 o'clock be
and his horses and cart had arrrived on the
Berun's premise-, and the lime was de
posited where directed; on exceptional
spot, just witldu view of the windows of
the south front.
Baron Knntun, pale and melancholy, was
sauntering in the slope between the bouse
and tlio all the-year round. He looked
across to where Jim and the gardener were
standing, and the' identity of Hayward
being established by what he brought, the
Baron came down, and the gardener with
drew.
The Baron's first inquiries were, as Jim
had been led to suppose they would lw, on
the exterminating effects of lime upun
slugs and mmlls in its different conditions of
slaked ami undaked, ground anil in the
lump. He npiviywd to he m.toU interested
by Jim's explanations, and eyed the young
man closely whenever he had an opi>ortuu-
Ky.
“And 1 hope trade is prosperous with
you this year,” said the Baron.
“Very, my uoble lord,” replied Jim, who.
in hftl un umtv on the proper method of
address, wisely concluded that it wot bet
ter to err by giving too much honor than
by giviug too little “In snort, tr-.de i*
looking so well that I've become a partner
in the firm.”
“indeed; I am glad to hear it So now
you are settled in life.”
“Well, my Lord. I am hardly settled,
even now. Kor I’ve gut to finish it —I
mean, to get married.”
“That's an easy matter compared with
the )artn rship,”
“Now a man might think eo, my Lord,”
aoid Jim. getting m re confidential. “But
the real truth is, ti* the hardest part of all
fur tua”
“Your suit ;rospers, 1 hoper
“it don’t,” said Jim. “It don’t at all
Just at preeut. In short. I can’t for the
life o’ me iliiik what’s come over the yuung
woman late.y.” And he fell into deep re
flection.
1 hough Jim 4i l not obeerva it, the Bar
on’s brow becam? shadowed with self-re
proach as he In ar t those simple words, and
his eyes hail a look of pity, “indeed
siuee wheuf” he asked.
“Since yesterday, my noble lord.” Jim
spoke meditatively. He wes reviving upon
• bold stroke. Why not make a confidant
of this kind gentleman, instead of the par
aou, as he lia.l iutendedf The thought was
no si>oiier conceived than acted on. “My
lord,” he resumed, “I have heard th*t you
weie a noblem iu of great scope and talent,
who has seeu more strange i outlines and
chara *ters than I have ever heard of, and
know the insides of men well. Therefore
1 wool 1 fain put a que.st.ou to your noble
lordship, if i may so trouble you, and
having nobody else in the world who could
inform me eo truly.*’
“Any advice X can give is nt your ser
vice, Hayward. What do you *wi4> to
know*”
“It is this, my lord. What can Ido to
4v. w P k young mao> Q W bltion tbat's jep*
to mpn a towering nergnt tnere s irarreacn
iag it or compassing -it; howto get her to
be pleased with me and my station as sbs
used to be when I first knew her?”
“Truly that is a hard question, my mas.
What does she aspire to?”
“She’s got a erase for fine furniture.”
“How long has she had itf”
“Only just now.”
The Baron seemed still more to expe
rience regret. “What furniture does she
specially covet!” he asked.
“Silver candle-sticks, work-tables, look
ing-glasses, gold tea things, silver tea-pots
gold clocks, curtains, pictures, and I don't
know what all-things I shall never get if
I live to be a hundred—not so much that I
couldn’t raise the money to get ’em, as that
1 ought to put it to other uses, or save it
tor a rainy day.”
“You think the possesion of those arti
cles would make her happy/”
“I really think they might, my lord.”
“Good. Open your pocket-book and
write as I tell you.”
Jim in some astonishment did as com
manded, and elevating kij pocket-book
against the garden wall, thoroughly moist
ened his pencil, and wrote at the Baron's
dic^tiou:
“Pair 6f silver candlesticks; Inlaid work
table and work-box; one large mirror; two
small ditto; one gilt china and coffee serv
ice; one silver tea-pot, coffee-pot, sugur
basin, jug and dozen spoons; French clock;
pair of curtains; fix large pictures.”
“Now,” said the Baron, out that
leaf and give it to me. Keep a close tongue
about this; go home, and don't be surprised
at anything that may come to your doer.*
“But, my noble lord, you don’t mean
that your lordship is going to give—”
“Never mind what 1 am going to da
Only keep your own counsel. I perceive
that, though a plain countryman, you are
by no means deficient in tact and under
standing. if sending these things to you
gives me pleasure, why should you obje t/
The fact is, Hayward, I occasionally take
mi interest in people, and like to do a little
for them. I take an interest in you. Now
go home, and a week hence Invite Marg
the young woman and her father, to tea
with you. The rest is in your own hands.”
A question of Urn put to Jim in after
times was why It had not occurred to him
at once that the Baron's liberal conduct
must have been dictate*! by something
more personal than sudden spontaneous
generosity to him a stranger. To which
Jim always answered that, admitting the
existence of such generosity, there had ap
poured nothing remarkable in the Baron
selecting himself as its object. The Baron
had told him that he took an interest in
him; and self-esteem, even with the most
modest, is usually su(il<-lout to overrule any
little difficulty that might occur to an out
sider in accounting for a preferenc e. He
moreover considered that foreign noblemen,
rich and eccentric, might have habits of
acting which were quite at variance with
those of their English compeers.
Bo be drove off homeward with .1 lighter
heart than he hail known for several days.
To have a foreign gentleman take a fancy
to him—what a triumph to a plain sort of
fellow, who had scarcely expected the
Baron to look in his face. It would be a
tine story to tell Margery when the Buron
gave him liberty to speak out.
Jim lodged at the house of bis cousin
aud partner, Richard Vine, a widower of
fifty odd years. Having failed in the de
velopment of a household of direct de
scendants, this tradesman had been glad to
let his chauilwr* to his much younger rel
ative, when the latter entered on the busi
ness of lime manufacture; aud their inti
macy bad I*o to a partnership. Jim lived
up stairs; lilt partner lived dowu; and
the furni u: of all the rooms
was so plain nud old fashioned
as to exito the special dislike of Mbs
Margery Tucker, and even to prejudice her
against Jim for tolerating it. Not only
were the chairs and tables queer, but, with
due regard to the principle that a man’s
surroundings should bear the impress of
that mans life Mil occupation, the chief
ornaments of the dwelliug were a curious
collection of uaicinatiuos, that had Uon
discovered from time to time in tho lime
kiln—missha{>en ingots of strange substauce,
some of them like Pompeian remains.
The head of the firm was a quiet-livin';
narrow-minded, though friendly, man *
fifty; and he took a serious interest ij
Jim s love suit, frequently inquiring how
It progressed, uiul assuring Jim that if ho
chose to marry he might have all the upper
floor at low rent, he, Mr. Vine, contenting
himself entirely with the ground level. It
hod been so convenient for discussing bus!
ness matters to have Jim in the same house
that he did not wish any change to )>o
made in consequents of a change in Jim’s
state. Margery knew of this wUh, and of
Jim’s concurrent feeling, and did not like
the idea ut all.
About four days after the young man’s
interview with the Baron there drew up in
front of Jim s house at noon a wagon laden
with cases and packages, large and small.
They were all laid reaped to “Mr. Hay
ward,” aud they had cotne from the largest
furnishing warehouses in that part of Eng
land.
Three-quarters of an hour were occupied
in getting the cases to Jim’s rooms. The
wary Jim did not show the amaxement
he felt at his patron's munificence; and
presently the senior partner came into the
passage, and woudered what was lumbering
Upstairs.
“Oh, it’s only some things of mine.” said
Jim.
“Bearing upon tha coming event, eh;”
said his partner.
“Exactly," replied Jim.
Mr. Vine, with some astonishment at tho
numtwr of cases, shortly after went away to
the kiln; whereupon Jim shut himself into
his rooms, and there he might have been
heard ripping up and opening boxes with a
cautious hand, afters ard appeariug out
side the door with them empty, and carry
ing them off to the out house
A triumphant look lit up his face when,
a little later in the afternoou. he ran across
the meads to the dairy, and iuvited Mar
gery aud her father to his house to sup-, er.
fiho was not unsociable that day, and her
father expressing a hard and fast accept
ance of the invitation, she perforce agreed
to go with him. Again at home, Jim made
himself as mysteriously busy as before iu
those rooms of his, and when his |>artner
returned he too was asked to join iu the
supper.
At dusk Hayward went to the door,
where he stood till he heard the voices of
his guest* from th© direction of the low
grounds, now covered with thoir frequent
! fleece of fog. The voices grew more dis
tinct, and then on the white surface o? the
: fog there appeared two truukless beads,
from which bodies gradually extended as
the approaching pair rose toward the house.
When they had entered, Jim pressed
Margery’B baud and conducted her up to
his rooms, her father waiting below to say
a few words to the senior lime burner.
“Bless me,” said Jim to her, on entering
the sitting-room; “I quite forgot to get
a light beforehand, but I'll have oue iu a
jiffy.”
Margery stood in the middle of the dar’.c
room, while Jim struck a match: and then
the young girl’s eyes were conscious of a
burst of light', and the rise into being of a
jltir of handsome silver candle sticks cou
taming two candles that Jim was in too
act of lighting.
“Why—where—you have candlesticks
like that/” said Margery. Her eyes flew
round the room as the growing candle
flames showed other articles. ‘ Pictures,
too, and lovely china! Why, I knew noth
ing of this, 1 declare!’
“Yes, a few thing* that came tb me by
accident,” said Jim, quietly.
“And a great gold clock under a glass,
and a enpid swinging for a pendulum; and
oh, what a lovely work-table—woods of
every color—and a work-box to match.
May I look inside that work-box, Jim?
Whose is it?”
“Oh yes; look at it, of course. It is a
poor enough thing, but ’tis mine; and is
will belong to the woman 1 marry, who
ever she may be, as well as all other things
here.”
“And the curtain and the looking glass**
—why, I declare I can see myself in a hun
dred places.”
“That tea set,” said Jirn, placidly point
ing to a gorgeous china service and a large
silver teapot on the side table, “I don't uso
at present, being a ba helor man; ‘but.’
says 1 to myself, 'whoever I marry w.ll
want some such things for giving her par
ties* pr I con sell ’em—but 1 haven't took
rteps for’t yet.”
“Sell ’em; no, 1 should think not,” said
Margery, with earnest reproach. “Why,
£ hope you wouldn’t be so foolish: Way,
this is exactly the kind of tlringt was
thinking of when I told you of the thing*
women could want—of course notHtoeauing
myself particularly I had no idea that
you had such valuable—” Margery was un
able to speak coherently, so much was she
amazed at the wnltb of Jim s pcs ■'Ration*.
At that moment her father and tin Umo
burner < uuio upstair-*, and to appear wo
matily and proper to Mr. Vino, Margery
repressed the remainder of her surprise.
As for the two elderly worthies, it was not
till they had entered the room and saS
down that their slower eyes discerned any
thing brilliant in the appoint mentis Then
one of them stole a glauce at some article,
aud tiie other at another, but each being
unwilling to express his wonder in tho
presence of his neighbors, they I*o lived
the objects before them with quite an ac
customed air; the lime-burner inwardly
trying to conjecture what all this m aul,
and the dairyman musing that if Jim’s
business allowed him to urcumnlate at this
rate the sooner Margery became hw wife
the better. Margery retreated to tho
work table, work-box and tea 'hervice,
which she examined with hushed exclama
tions.
An entertainment thus surprisingly be
gun could not fail to progress well When
ever Margery’s crusty old father felt tho
need of a civil sentence, the flash of Jim’s
fancy articles inspired him to one; while
the lime-burner, having reasoned away hi*
first ominous thought that all this had come
out of tho iirin, also felt proud and blithe.
Jim accouiimniod his dairy friends part
of the way home. Her father, finding that
Jim wanted to *;> i ak to her privately, aud
that she exhibited some elusivene**, turned
to Margery and said, “Come, come, my
lady; no more of this nonseme. You ju*t
stop behind with that young man.”
Margery, a little scared ut her father’s
peremptoriness, obeyed. It was plain that
Jim had won the old man by that night's
stroke, if he had not won her.
4 ‘l know what you are going to say Jim,”
she began, less ardently now, for she was
no louger under the novel influence-of the
shining silver and glass. “Well, as you
desire it, and as my father dettirpy*. and
as 1 suppose it will be the best course for
me, I wilt fix the day- uot this etoalug,
but as soon as 1 can think it over.”
CHARTER VUI.
KorwrrHiTAXDnro a press of but hie**,
Jim went and did his duty in thanking the
Baron. The latter saw him in his fishing
tackle room, an nppartmeut littered witu
every appliance that a votary of the roil
could require.
“Aud when h* the wedding day to be,
Hayward?” the Baron asked, after Jim haf
told him that mutters were settled.
“It is not quite certain yet, my noble
lord.” said Jim, cheerfully. “But I hope
’twill not be long after the time when Uoc
A’mighty christens the little apples.”
“And when is that'”
“St. Svntbiu’a— the middle of July. 'Th
to Ih> some time iu that mouth she tell*
me. ”
When Jim was gone tbe Baron seemed
meditative*. Hu went out, oseemled th<
mount, and entered the weather--screen,
as though re-enactiug in his fancy tbs
scene of that memorable morning of fog.
Ho turned hi? eyes to the angle of the
shelter, round which Margery had sudden
lv appeared like a vision, and it was plain
that he would not have minded her appear
ing there then. Ihe juncture had indeed
beep such an impressive and critical one
that she must have seemed rather a h av
enly messenger than a pawing milkmaid,
more especially to a man like the Baron,
who, despite the mystery of his origin and
life, revealed himself to tie a melancholy,
emotional character—the Jacques of this
forest and stream
Behind the mount tho grouud rose yet
higher, ascending to a plantation which
sheltered the house. The Baron strolled
up here, and bent hi* gaze over the dis
tance. The valley of the fiweiut Jay be
fore him, with its shining river, the brooks
that teal it. and the brimming carriers that
fed the brooks. Tne situation of Mar
gery's house was visible, though not the
house itself, and the Baron gazed that way
for an infinitely long time, till, rememt>er
ing himself, he moved on.
Instead of returning to the house he went
along the ridge till he arrived at the verge
of Chillington Wood, and iu the same des
ultory manner roamed under the trees, not
pausing till he hiul come to Three-Walks
End, and the hollow elm hard by. He
peeped in at the rift. In the soft dry layer
of wood dust that floored the hollow. Mar
gery’s tracks were still visible, as she had
made them there when dressing for the
ball.
“Little Margery ,n murmured the Baron.
In a moment he thought better of this
mood, and turned to go home. But be
hold, a form stood behind him—that of the
girl whose name had been on his lips.
She was iu utter confusion. “I—l- di 1
not know you were here, sir I” she began.
“1 was out for a little walk.’’ fihe could
get no farther; her eyes filled with tears.
That spice of willfuin*!*, even hardness,
which characterized her in Jim’s company
magically disappeared in the proseuce of
the Baron.
“Never mind, never mind,” said he,
masking under a severe manner whatever
he felt. “The meeting is awkward, and
ought not to have occurred, especially if,
ns 1 suppose, you are shortly to be married
to James Hayward. But it can not be
helped now. You had no idea I was Ik*re,
of course- Neither had I of seeing you.
Remember, you can not be too careful,”
continued tho Baron, in the same grave
tone; “and I strongly request you as a
friend to uo yonr utmost to avoid meetings
like this. When you saw me before I
turned, why did you not go away?”
“1 did not see you sir. I did "not think
of seeing you. 1 was walking this way,
and I onlv looked in to see ths tract”
••That shows you have been thinking of
things you should not think of,” returned 1
the baron. “Good morning.”
Margery could answer nothing. A brow
beaten glance, almost of misery, was ail
she gave him. He took a slow step away
from her, then turned suddenly back aud,
stooping, impulsively kissed her cheek,
taking her as much by surprise as ever a
woman was taken in her life.
Immediately after he went off with a
flushed face and rapid strides, which he
did uot check till he was within his own
boundaries.
The hay-making season now set in vig
orously, and tbe weir-hat.-hes were all
down in the meads to drain off the water.
The carriers ran themselves dry, and there
was no longer any difficulty in walking
about among them. The Baron could
very well witnesi from the elevations
about Lis house the activity which fol
lowed thesi preliminaries. The white
shirt sleeves of the mower* glistened in
the sun, the scythes flashed, voices echoed,
snatches of song floated about, and there
were glimpses of red wagon-wheels, pur
ple gowns, aud many-colored handker
chiefs.
Tho Baron had been told that the hay
making was to be followed by the wed
ding, and bad be gone down to the dairy
he would have found plenty of evidence
to that effect. Dairyman Tucker’s house
was in a whirlpool of bustlo, and among
other difficulties was that of turning the
cheese room into a genteel apartment for
the time being, and hiding the awkward
ness of having to pass through tae milk
house to get to the parlor door. The house
hold centrivances appeared to interest
Margery much more than the great ques
tion of dressing for the ceremony and tho
ceremony itself, in all relating to that
she showed an indescribable backwardness,
which later on was well remembered.
“if it were only Hoiuetjody else, and I
was one of the bridemaids, 1 really think
I should like it better: 1 ’ she murmured, one
afternoon.
“Away with thee—that's only your
shyness! ’ said one of the in.l;maids.
It is said that about this time the Baron
seeineJ to feel the effect* of solitude
strongly. Solitude revives the simple in
stinct* of primitive man, and lmely coun
try nooks afford rich toil for wayward
emotions. Moreover, idleness waters those
uncomdUered impulse* which a short *eaon
ot turmoil would stamp out. it is difficult;
to speak with any exactness of the bearing
of such conditions on the mind of the
Baron—a man of whom so little was ever
truly known-but there -is n doubt that
bis mind ran much on Margery as an indi
vidual, without reference to her rank or
qualify, or to i questi m whether she
would marry Jim Hay war l that summer,
fine was the smgl- lovely human thing
within his present bon ton —for he lived in
absolute seclusion-aud her image unduly
affected him.
But leaving conjecture, let uk state what
happened. One Saturday evening, two or
three weeks after his aeei ieuUU meeting
with her in the wood, he Wrote the note
following:
“Dear MAiuixitv,—You must notrsuppose
that because l spoke somewhat severely to
you at our chauce encounter by tbe boiiow
iree, 1 have any feeling against you. Far
from it. Now us ever I have the most
grateful sense of your considerate kindness
t > me on a momentous occasion which auali
Le 11 a me)
“You solemnly promised to come and se<
me whenever 1 should *eud for you. Can
you call forgive minutes as soon an possible
and disport© tu so plaguy glo m* from
whh hlam no uufortunate a* to suffer? If
you refuse I will not answer tor the conse
quences. I shall !*• in the summer shelter
on tbe mount to-morrow morning at half
past ten. If yon come I shall be grateful.
1 have also something for you.
“Yours, X."
In keeping with the tenor of this epistU
the depending, sal t -oppressed Baron as
cended the mount on fiuuday morning and
aat down. There was nothing here to ex
actly signify the hour, bat before ths
church bells had began ho hi ard somebody
approaching at the back. The light foot
step moved timidly, first to one r ce*s, aud
then to another; then to the third,
where he sat in the shade. I'oor Margery
stood before him
She looked worn and weary, aud her
little shoes and the skirts of her di es* were
covered with dust. The weather was sul
try, the sun being already high and power
ful, ami rain had not fallen for weeke
The Baron, who walked little, had thought
nothing of the effects of this heat ami
drought in inducing fatigue. A distance
which bad been but a reasonable exercise
on a foggy morning was a drag for Mar
gery now. fihe was out of breath; and
a-txity, even happiness, was writ tea on
her everywhere.
He roe,* to his feet and took hor hand.
He was vexe l with himself at sluht of her.
“My dear littlo girl!” he said. “You are
tired—you should not have come.”
“You sent for me, sir; aud I was afraid
you were ill; and my promise to you was
sacred. ”
He bent over her, locking upon her
downcast face, still holding her hand;
then he dropped it and took a pace or two
backward.
“It was a whim, nothing more,” he said,
•adly. “1 wanted to see my little friend,
to express good wishes, and to present her
with this.” Ho held forward a small mo
rocco case, and showed her how to open it,
disclosing a pretty locket, sot with pearls.
“It is Intended as a wedding present/' he
continued. “To be returned to me again if
you do not marry Jim this summer—it is to
be this summer,l think?”
“It was, sir," she said, with agitation.
“But it is so no longer. Aud therefore I
can not tako this.”
“What do you sayf'
“It was to have been to-day, but now it
can not be,”
“The wedding to-day—to-day T he cried.
“We fixed Sunday uot to hinder much
time at this busy season of tbe year,” re
plied she.
‘•And have you then, put it off—surely
not?”
“You *ent for me, aud I have come,”
*he answered, humbly, like an obedient fa
miliar in the employ of some great enchan
ter. Indeed, the Baron's power over this
inuoceut girl was curiously like enchant
ment, or mesmeric influence. It was so
ma>terfui that tbe sexual element was al
most eliminated. It was that ro
over the gentle ArieL And yet it was
probably only that of the cosmopolite over
the recluse, of the experienced man over
tho simple maid.
“You have come on your wedding day!
Oh. Margery, this is a mistake. Of course
you should not have obeyed me. since,
though I thought yotir wedding would be
soon, I did not know it was to-day.”
“I promised you. sir; and I would rather
keep my promise to you than be married
to Jim.”
“Margery, that must not be—the feeling
is wrong!” ho murr. ured, looking at the
distant hills. “There seems to be a fate in
all this; I gc' out of the frying-pan \nto
the fire. What a recompense for your
goodness! The fact is, I was out of health
and out of spirits, so I—But no more of
that. Now instantly to repair this tre
mendous blunder that we have made—
that's the uuflstiita.”
Alter a pause, he went on hurridly,
“Walk down the hill; get into the road.
By that time I shall be there with a
phaeton. We may get back in time.
What time is it now? If not, no doubt
the wedding can be to morrow; so all will
come right again. Don’t cry, my dear
girl Keep the locket, of course—you’ll
marry Jim."
(to be continued.]
i2to^. g^,gys2Ss!Bg
ffAPEIS’ iP
Hril * V-' r > i T ’* z9 rotate. I bluer*
. / tlwu*. too l.lal*occ->
_ Y v n4 orer kftli tct. D
V\> 'VA \\ lark In JW r,
s>VkjSi*. tn. iioid UIII faDNMI
. , on by jrticu’4i cUISM tt
ASi 'll -'2TO c,hrr t*a*4i*t Ut tic*
TANARUS tevMuu liti wr Cm nlroa
I* lv <b trl*l |*ck&| At'
Wi'S&gß
JL-tf. L> th- a*,d 4om n.c U
urtiEiwv.
- Y7iiUrsu. rented o* •ri
ff- . jV . A-or r ''■•*** m*d!ol ;vlw!?kz.
' ' ** * • enwLtlnfcrcrnndrtp***.
’W3 oy *v. h thou- j tto*. Utrrxit •pvttndon u tIM
*,cccw>.
and ™m. 4 s 11. ■“nr
m PAC!!AQa fa *-a-.*d *>*• wa
ATVa p'MI
SEI& AtDRESS *““
,*J!R!S REMZOY CO., H’fg Chudtte
SOCK, Xortb Imu St., tu. 80.
.'Saw -uwar.ls Simma.igiSiiMni*’.
JNO. A. WATKINS.
House, Sign & Fresco Painter
All work done in tbe most workmanlike
manner, and satisfaction guaranteed. All
order* la*rusted to me w.ll receive prompt
attention. I refer by nermission to Mr. C.
K. Irvin and James Mitchell, Contractor and
Builder, Washington, Ga. If not iuibe city
ddresa ck box 21?, S*rr. u- *d-6m
A Good Advertising Medium.
NEW YORK HERALD
WEKKLY EDITION.
One Dollar Per Year.
Brightest, Host Newsy ami Accurate
Weekly Journal in the
United States.
SKETtHDS, CAMTOOtVK,
And numerous other feature* have be**n
added. Also a complete, exhaustive sum
mary of he news in all departments. Uis
lead hv upwards of half a million pc <ple and
is a good adverti-jsg medium, reaching fac
tories, fartu* and home* of all descriptions in
every part of the country.
4 ri UFKCT MKWBPAPKK
It contains ail the flrewal news of the dailv
edi Son of the Herald, which haa the largest
circulation iu the t inted Htatet.
Independent in ptditics, it is the most val
uable chronicle of political utwi in the worid
impartially giving the occurrences and opin
ions of all parties, so that all s.desuiaybe
known. In tbe department of
FOHEKri NtU.t
The Herald has always been distinguished
bv the fullness of it* cable dispatcher The
ew tiansatUntie tele rapli cables will in
rease fscilitie.
u The faun department of the Weekly Herald
r practical. It goes to the point and does
give wild theories. Tbe farmer will save
any in Are than
o.\B DOLLAR A IK AII
From the suggestions of tbe Fat in Depart
ment alone, concerning soil, cattle crops,
trees, building, gardeuing, poultry slid agri
cultural economy, “lh.- Hokik" instructs
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economical and ta teful new dishes, the fash
ions and making of home comforts. In addi
tion ere given latest reports of tiade and
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The condition of money, columns of miscel
laneous read ng, poetry, >pecial novelleltes,
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Wh iie the Weekly Herald gives the latest
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Address NEW YORK HERALD.
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TANARUS iMtOSOS HEALTH <3 UTXK mmt *• kf* U *t4mi
ran
INViGORATOR
fe iv.vssa
Jfetlirint.fttid for dnea**, rH)ting fri>m*d*r*aed
or torpid rooduton of th© Livvr; ach üßiliouia
DrP*Pa. Bkfe-
Ucadache. Rhr um*t n*. ©t<x ' a lavotaobl© F*m
flj Medietas, tor fall infon.. .lion od r©T *d
dr***# oa a po*Ln! c*rd for 100 n©E bo©x os th©
“Liver and it D:©m*‘* U> Da. bAJO’OKI), 1A
Dnan© Rimt. If©w York.
ASI MIVUASr WILL TOLL TOE ITS RWTAYMS. J
Executor’s Sale.
GEORGIA, WILKES COUNTY.
BY virtue of tLe authority granted me
under and by the last nil. of John C.
Stuminer. Ist© o' Wilkes county, deceased, I
wiH sell at public outcry before the Court
Hou.se door at Wa-hington, Ga., to tbe high
est aud best bidder, for cash, during legal
sale hours, on first Tuesday in February next,
the notes and accounts due to said John C.
Stummer’s estate, ami now in my hands un
collected. A schedule ©f the same can be seen
at th* store of Irvin, Callan k Cos., and at
the office of W. M. AM. P. Keese. This Jan.
lfth, Ittft. JOHN M. CALLAN,
Ex‘r Jno. C. Stammer.
E. E. PARSONS.
DENTAL OFFICE
UP-STAIRS,
In the Wvnn Buildiner
BLOOD
And its n nparallelled abuses, are fully
freely discussed in a neat 32 page book, mailed
FREE to any address, by Blood Balm Cos., At
lanta, Ga.
Drop a postal for it, •* every man and wo
man needs it and will be delighted with its
valuable and entirely new revelations.
SMALL VOICES
Sometimes shake a nation cf people and arouse
them to action. Expressions similar to tbe
following, irora a well known Druggist of At-
pour iu from sections where B. B. B.
hJT been used.
Atlanta, June 12, 18S*.
ffis our firm belief that B. B. B. is the best
Bhjpd purifier on tho market. We are selling
rotter five bottles of it to ONE of any other
preparaticn of tin* kind. It has failed iu no
instance to give entile satisfaction. Merit
is the secret
W. P. SMITH k CO., Druggists,
This is the only blood maiicine known that
combines quick action, certain effect, cheap
price and unbounded satisfretioo.
WE PROVE
That oue single bottle of B. B. B. sill do ae
much work in curing Blood Poisons, Skin Af
fections, Scrofula, Kidney Troubles. Catarrh
and Rheumatism as *ii bottles ot any other
preparation on earth.
Onv 50-year old chronic ulcer cured; Scrof
ula of children cured with on3 bottle. Blood
PoiMius cured with a few bottles. It never
fail*. We hold home proof, iu book form.
Send for it. Large bottles SI.OO, six for $5.00.
Expreseed on receipt of price, if your Drug
gist can t supply you. address
BLOOD BALM CO.. Atlanta, Ga.
TUTTS
PILLS
> 25 YEARS IN USE.
Th* OreitMt Mcdic&l Tnu:nph of th* Age
SYMPTOMS OF A
TORPID LIVER.
Loaa of appetite* llowcla costive, Pain in
the head, with a dull sensation in the
back part. Pain under tho shoulder*
blade, Fullness after oatiua, with n dis
inclination to exertloaof body or mind.
Irritability of temper, Lew spirits, with
a feelingsfbnvlng neglected some duty,
Weariness, DLaxincss, Flattering at the
Heart. Dote before the eyes, Headache
over the right eye. Restlessness, with
fltfal dreams. Highly colored Urine, and
CONSTIPATION.
TCTT S PILLS are especially adapted
to auch cases, one doae effects such a
change of feeling as to natoniah the sufferer.
They Increase the Appetite, and cause tho
body to Take ou Fleshtthu* tbe system Is
nourished, and by their Tonic Action on
the Hlaestive Uriraus, Regular Wlools are
'godugedLJmc^Agjd^ljkfturjrg|Mht*jFljTN
TUTTS HAIR DYE.
Ghat Hair or WnisKgut changed to
GixmsT Black by a single application ol
this DTE. It imparts a natural color, acts
instantaneously. Sold by .Druggists, or
sent bv express on receipt of 91.
Office. 44 Murray St., Now York*
■—
FACTS o'GJRDmC
43;. Ss&'j 'm TaiiCr
?t Trill pm err'.-! 1 the CS-.QOC-, regulate
t.f
.iEA*.r5 • VV; . ! YOTTTH! In all these
,s ■' r**l r-,-5... TONIC,
-i ter. M.. 1 w - .•I .* .Imlltris
“. * ►' i . . . if n.urLed
ith li-.i m : (vUvr'ti. ttmics,
'•' MM- till-, c. Enliven*
..c u.i!- t.'U.. P HI r
Ar* •* ii -u; complaints
Lf" si *. in. r .•; • -nv will flndla
' - K ■ i : ltd M.tllif
-* r - 1 • • - *• c'-inpiextoii.
■ 1.11. M M'II of l'R.
.. MtTth'i • . |.; ; I- Kja*u<i attempts
A cet;rn \ mu.. .. the popular.
..T of tt f* n .. ) .1,, . •{! V hrnlth
dei.ol txv ■ -s. * ill* O: . I’SKL AND UCST
/Tf-tv- -WSU.T-. “• Med C© V
ttr f oor -r,- : .jw SOCK.** 1
c*' kft va-f - .i.lloo, trow*
f> _r>- -.-1 ’ >■’o -L5 an
1885.
Harper's Youner People.
AX illustrated weekly
The serial and *hort stories in Harper* Young
People have *1) the dramatic interest that juvenile
ficti >u run porneee. while they are eholly free from
what U pernicious or vulgarly sensational. The
UtimorousMorieaand pictures sre full of Innocent
fun. sod the papers on natural history and sci
ence, travel. and the facts of life, are bv writers
wbrnw names give the beat assurance of accuracy
and value. Illustrate-1 paper* on athletic sports,
game* and naetiraes give full informal:ou on these
subjects. There ta nothing cheap about it but its
price.
An epitome of everything that i* attractive and
desirable in ;iiTenile literatim*.—Boston Courier.
A weekly tea*>t of good thing* for the boy* and
Kiri* in \sy family which it visits.—Brooklyn
Union.
It is wonderful in itw wealth of picture*, infor
mation sud iuterest.—Chriatian Advocate, N. V.
TERMS: Pontage prepaid #2 per year.
Pol. Vi. entnnonen il'o,. ,1881.
fiingl. Numbt r. Fir. Out. ..ch
Remittance* should be made by Po*t-Office Mon
ey Order or Lrft. to avoid chQc* of loa*
Xewsoaper* are not to copy this advertisement
wittou ‘he expreea order of Harper k Brothers.
Address H* HPRR * BROTHERS, New York.
‘ 1 f
■*■* Of Oolorrt Plmt, and 1000 n
?L lth and^ CT iptionß of the b*t Flowers and
XZZxZ- Plants, and how to grow
“O' l Prt only 10
nb* a—loctl from firot or^.r
H Gnlni..nd howtofrt
(•’“’fo “> n, "“J n 8 the grtxxrr at the lut moment to
r •—-'■ I'.ppen to b. l.n ot, mrottn/ trith
tasssa awa&ffisfi*- BUY &LY
JAMXS VICK. RoehMter. K. T.