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THE) MILLER'S MAID. JT. E. Brooks In San Francisco News-Letter. Nature, ever tickle jade, Squandering treasure on the maid Of the mill; Gave her eyes of such‘rare blue That her soul kept peeping through “ Will-ke-IM." On his handsome chestnut-brown Sat the heir of-half the town. Reining In his horse enchanted with the vision ontbe hill; Fresh from college halls was ho; Fell in love?—Well let me see— But the story's told much sweeter by the Maiden of the Mill l “But he knew not what to say, So he asked of me the way • To the mill; It was just to make me speak. For it stood there by the creek ’Neath the hill! It is dilTlcult to frown On such loving eyes and brown, So I raised my arm and pointed just a moment down the hill; All he did was stand and stare At my white arms, plump and bare, Xill I had to doubt this handsome fellow's busi ness at the mill! “Since you have no grist to grind Why so anxious, sir. to find Father’s mill? But tho mill you’ll never see While you stand and gaze at me— Think you will?" Then 1 thought I heard him say Ashe threw a kiss this way: 1 think I see the building at the bottom of the hill!’ But I threw his kisses back While I bade him get a sack And take his many kisses to bo ground up at the mill! brings a grist each day Which he never takes away From the mill; When I ask the reason why He will smile and make reply: ‘ When you will!' It is plain as plain can be By his grist he’s meaning me. tor my heart is ground up finer than the corn within the mill; And he says his gold he’ll share For the gold that’s in my hair! Will I wed him? Well, I’m human, and I rather think I will!" MORNING NEWS LIBRARY, NO. 80. PRA OF THEIDfRONDACKS.' BY ANNE E. ELLIS. AUTHOR OF “THEM WOMEN,” ETC. [Copyrighted, 18S7, by J. H. Kstill.] CHAPTER XXVII. Earl Beaeonsfield had not grown more moody and silent since his separation from his son—ah, no! his was a pride too doep for that—and he went and came as if Sir Ar thur had never lived. The doors of his ancestral halls were thrown more widely open than before, and the walls echoed with tho laugh of the fre quent guest or with the revellers at the ban quet. If tho Earl felt any regrets he did not show them to outward observers. Notwithstanding his hauteur he could not help but read of the fame and success of tho young artist, and there was a slightly per ceptible raising of the head and proud kind ling of tho eye as he perused the hues full of praises of his son with which the journals were teeming. Not so his lady wife—for, although there was the same sweetness, the same gentle ness, tho same quiet dignity—yet there was a wistfulness of the eye; a gradual paling of the cheek and a languor that told of inward suffering. The frequent letters of Sir Arthur and Nora—the latter of whom she was growing to love most fondly—were all that gave her strength to endure her sorrow. The Countess would gladly have visited her boy, but she feared her husband’s dis pleasure and knew full well if he discovered even the stealthy visit she had made Sir Arthur before himself and Nora left Dome Gudenongh’s that it would cause an irrep arable breadth between them. The birth of her grandson gave the Coun tess sweet pleasure, and she longed more than ever to fold the little one in her arms. Hut as she could not go herself she sent the faithful Margaret, who hail long de sired to visit her Scottish home, and made that the excuse for her leaving; and the Earl never knew that she had first gone to Italy to visit her “boimie boy” and his sweet young wife, and enfold this new nursling in her arms. And then came news that Lord Dudly had found Arthur’s retreat, and the great inter est lie had taken in the young man and his little family; and the Countess’ heart over fiowed with thankfulness that her hoy had found a friend in ono of the friends of his childhood. Alnrgarot returned from hor Scottish trip —as the Eari thought it —with glowing ac counts to her lady of the beauty and gentle ness of Norn ami the pretty winsomeness of the baby bqy. Never was such a child in Margaret’s eyes —and its grandmother list ened with tears of joy to nurse’s glowing description of its pretty baby ways and the devotion of Lord Dudly to his godson and adopted children. How the Countess longed to clasp this dear daughter and grandson to her heart — and how she yearned for her sou, but she knew it could not bo now. Tho Earl bereft of the pride of his heart tbrew himself into other pursuits. His art gallery had long lieon tho fame of liis neighborhood, for its exquisite statuary and paintings, and he used Ins surplus iii como that lie bail expended so freely on his son toward nddmg to bis already magnifi cent collection. The neighlioring gentry visited the gallery often and’ frequently in troduced strangers, so that it was seldom un occupied. The Earl often joined these art lovers mid took tin- greatest pleasure in showing to his guests these exquisite gems. W hether by accident or design several of Sir Arthur’s paintings and statues found their way into the hull. Their true artistic hi- rit and exquisite design and coloring won universal praise. (i The latest acquisitions wore a statue of ‘Aeantha” and a painting of anew fancy for the Madonna and the child. 'I he statue, had it not have been for tho unnut ural coldness of the pure white mar elf, seemed ulmost endowed with life, so graceful was the pose of the head and the kfuuty of the features. 1 lie .Madonna was anew departure, repre senting the mother with lair hair and blue ej '-s. with a hulo surrounding the golden head; while the face was jwgitivoly an gelic ns she gazed at tho tiny infant in her anr.?. Ail raved about these new additions, and it was seldom the gallery was without lovers of art. As yet tho Countess had not seen them — tut one day, during the temporary abs nco the Earl und when the clouds let down flicir burden in such torrents as to preclude the possibility of guests, the Countess in Company with Murgaret strolled through the gallery. They moved from oue gem to the other until they stood in front of the Madonna, The Countess’ eyes restod upon the faces the fair young mother and her child with admiration" Marguret gazed upon them speechless for & Setsiml and then cried: ‘My lady! my lady 1” The Countess turned to her in wonder. "Do you lia see it, my lady?” asked nurse, pointing to tho picture. "W*ut, .Margaret 1” asked tho Counteas, looking at the painting. ‘Do you na see 11 >—Lady Nora and little A -r} lur ' c *phdned Margaret. The likcni'ht to the daughter xho had seen Httlo of dawned upon her, and examining 'no corner of tho canvas she road the name “t Uazcoiteifcht" The Countess fell upon her knees and gazed with streaming eyes upon the fea tures of this sweet daughter and darling grandchild that she so longed for ami dared not have. O, what would she give to be with her son and his sweet wife and child! She had loved Lady Betty and longed to call her "daughter”—but this sweet girl she almost idolized, and every hour was a continual craving for her gentle pres ence—low-birth, interest, all were forgotten save the sweet, angelic face. The Countess was aroused from her rev erie by another cry from Margaret. She arose from her knees and hastened to where nurse was standing before the marble figuro of “Aeantha.” In that also she saw the sweet, perfect fea tures of Nora. "O, Margaret !" cried the Countess, looking up at the pure, white figure; "how my boy must idolize his wife to make her like that f” “Indeed he does, my lady! indeed he does! Ye bae not seen them as 1 liae done, or you would wonder more. But do not greet, my lady—all wili come right in His good time,” said Margaret, raising her eyes toward heaven with pious fervor. “God graut it, nurse,” murmured her lady. “An’ He will! an’ He will! So do na greet, but abide His time. You sweet face will plead for itself.” “But I become so impatient, Margaret— the: time seems so long.” “Then strive to be patient like yerself, nursling—for my heart tells me the time is na long. Think you, my child,” said the old woman, taking her lady’s shapely hand in her own large, strong palm, and looking wistfully into the sad, pale face, “think you my lord brought that here (pointing to Aeantha’) and that! (turning to the pic ture) if there be not some change ?” “Margaret, can it be!” cried the Countess, her eyes lighting with a ray of hope. “But then perhaps he did not know.” “Not know, lassie? Look there,” replied Margaret, pointing to the name on the base of the figure, and then gently leading her back to the Madonna and showing her a name in the comer of the canvas, “look there. Your gude man’s eyes are good yet, and that name never escaped them; and”the pipers are full of the praises of Sir Arthur Beaeonsfield, the artist.” As Margaret finished a gladsmile lit up the Countess’ featuijjs, and, taking nurses arm, she returned to her apartments with a lighter step, for now felt sure that the charm of the angelic face of the American Nora had begun to work even upon the proud heart of tho Earl. CHAPTER XXVIII. Lady Betty, or Bertha, as her baptismal name really was, but her father had given her the pet njune of “Betty,” now felt her self to be free, hand and heart; and Count Alsleigh soon saw the difference in her al tered manner toward himself. There was no more repelling his attentions and he was divinely happy. And Betty, save a certain shyness which Eroceeded from tho knowledge of loving and eing loved, placed such confidence and sweet trustfulness in her devoted lover that it was not many weeks ere he was referred to Lord Ernst who gave his consent willingly and gladly; and indeed with a different feel ing from that he had experienced when he had thought Betty the fiancee of Sir Ar thur. Tho engagement was soon imparted to her Grace, the Duc-hoss, and through her it was publicly announced. Many were the congratulations showered upon them, and many were the regrets and heartaches caused by Lady Betty securing the prize for whom so many had striven. But all acknowledged that it was a splendid match, and the society journals were full of praises of the betrothed. Even tho Queen sent the bride-elect a memento of her kind regards and a beauti ful India shawl. Every preparation was made for a speedy wedding, and her Grace delighted in assist ing to prepare the magnificent trousseau. Neither expouse nor trouble was spared and a princely fortune was expended. Magnificent and costly presents were sent from every direction —diamonds, pearls, laces as fine" as a mist, paintings, statuary— indeed, everything that could be thought of was beautiful and attractive. The wedding was solemnized in the Cathe dral, and seldom did that edifice contain such an array of fashion and beauty. Tho bride with her rich brunette beauty, arrayed in flowing robes of costly white satin and veil of rich lace falling gracefully from the well-formed aristocratic head with its crown of blue-black tresses and orange blossoms and her ornaments, the family jewels of her husband’s family sparkhng in their magnificent splendor—for such jewels as the Afeleigh’s had never been seen in the United Kingdom (excepting those belonging to the Crown) —the bride, I say, leaning on the arm of her handsome, stately father— the Count with her grace, tall, manly and handsome—and the Duchess—her line pres ence creating a feeling of veneration in all who behold her. Indeed, tho whole bridal party, rendered even more attractive by the host of richly attired dames and noble lords with which the Cathedral was filled, was a scene that would not soon be forgotten. The wedding over, the happy couple start ed on a tour accompanied by Lord Ernst. Lady Betty had told her husband of Ar thur’s marriage aud her desiro to visit and befriend his low-born wife—and ho, al though like Ix>rd Ernst opposed to the mesalliance, promised to throw no obstacle in the way, aud to assist asr far as he was able by befriending the young artist and his wife to reconcile the father and sou. After spending some months in travel the wedding party found themselves in Flor ence. CHAPTER XXIX. Sir Arthur and his little family, consist ing of Lord Dudly and Nora, were in the morning room one lovely day entertaining guests —an Italian nobleman aud his wife who wore making an early call. Little Arthur, who had grown to be a sturdy, romping boy of 2 years, notwith standing the uugust presence of strangers, was making bold attempts to draw “grand pa” into a frolic, much to tho amusement of Ijord Dudly and distress of his fair young mother. Lady Nora was looking as angelically beautiful as ever, and not the slightest evi dence of low-birth visible in either manner or speech. Sir Arthur had no occasion to be ashsuned of bis wife—ave, ho was proud of i. er _for society raved about his sweet wife and hor graceful, pretty ways—indeed, placed a* she was now, bad her husband not Lave secured her princes would have striven to snatch tho prize from him. fjir Arthur aud Lord Dudly had read tho glowing accounts of the wedding of Lady Betty now Countess Alsleigh. Noru had listened to the reading, but knew nothing of the engagement between the young Countess and'her own iloar husband. “What new arrivals have wo, bignor;” asked Arthur of the Italian. "Ah! have vou not heard?” replied tho guest, lifting 'liis eyebrows in surprise. “No—any one of interest !" “Yes, one of your countrymen with a charming daughter and husband.” “Indeed!” exclaimed Lord Dudly, inter ested also, in spit: of the frantic attempts of little Arthur to climb over his shoulder and pull liis whiskers. “Who is ho, may I ask I" said Arthur. Nora was conversing with tho Higuora and did not notice tho topic of interest among the gentlemen. “Lord Ernst, Count Alsleigh and tho young Countess,” replied the Hignor. The words had not more than been spoken when the cards of Lord Ernst and the Count and Countess were banded to Arthur with a desire for a call from himself aud wife. bir Arthur read thorn with pleasure and handed tb'-m to Lady Nora. Nom was as much pleased as her artist, husband with tho manifestation of interest from his English friends; she know he had many other.*, but they were not to him as those ho bad known in his boyhood. Tho estrangement of his fustier on her ac THE MORNING NEWS: SUNDAY, AUGUST 7, 1887. count was a cause of great sorrow to her, but she was sincorely glad his other friends hud not deserted him. “Signor, your words give me much joy —these people are old friends and X have just received their cards do yisite,” said Arthur. “I am glad, most glad,” returnod the Italian with true Italiaa generosity. The guests departed and Nora hastened to attire herself for accompanying her hus band and Lord Dudly on a visit io the Coun tess Alsleigh. She soon reappeared attired in an ex quisite costume, which well became her bright sweet loveliness. Lord Dudly handed her into the carriage and then entered himself, followed by Sir Arthur. During the ride the young man was try ing to picture to himself how his old play mate would look and how she would receive his wife. He did not feol at all ashamed of his American Nora—her milliners were so truly delightful that the customs of high-bred so ciety did not embarrass her in the least, and none that did not actually know of it sus pected her low birth —but then lie did have a fear that the young Countess, or her fath er, knowing who Nora was, would wound the feelings of his gentle wife by their air of patronage. The carriage stopp'd in front of one of those palaces with which the larger Italian cities abound, aud the party alighted and were ushered through the marble portals into a beautiful apartment to await the Countess. CHAPTER XXX. Lady Betty after her marriage spent sev eral months in travel with her husband aud father, anil then to fulfill her benevo lent design for the assistance of Nora, ro querted to Ik: taken to Florence with tho in tention of remaining some time. bo accordingly one of those picturesque palaces was taken for the season, with its marble halls and balustrades aud vine wreathed columns. As soon as the bridal party were rested from the effects of their travels, Betty sent their cards to Sir Arthur and his wife, and thought how kind and gracious she was in recognizing thus—this low-bom American girl—and expected to bo reoojvtid with evi dences of the deepest gratitude. But she would give no cause lor Arthur to think she did not regal’d No rains an equal —not she! —for had she not comatoF orence for the benevolent purpose of training this rustic beauty so that Sir Arthur need not be ashamed to present her to his friends. She fully expected to meet a coats?, country beauty with no manner, no style and with a loud, coarse voice, making the young lord start at every sound lest she should display her ignorance still further. These were" tho young Countess’ thoughts as she sat m tho garden with her husband and father enjoying the soft, balmy Italian air ami inhaling the fragrance of the flow ers while eating a delicious refreshing ice. Visitors were announced and the young lady read the names of “Lord Dudly, Sir Arthur Beaeonsfield aud wife.” “Papa, Sir Arthur and his lady,” said Betty, handing her father the cards. “Ah!” replied he, reading them, “beseems somewhat in haste to introduce his Ameri can rustic.” “Aye,” echoed the Count, “I should think it better to keep her more retirod until ho felt sure of her position.” Betty looked at her father and husband reproachfully and remarked: “Why, papa! husband! I sent dur cards to Ixith.” “Yes, that was all very well; but) in high born society such people should jbe kept back,” replied the young Count with ill disguisod annoyance at the prospect of be ing presented to this low-tiorn American. The face of Betty showed the distress she felt at these words. “Promise me,” cried she, placing a hand beseechingly on an arm of each gentleman, "promise me that no matter how dispensed you may feel with Sir Arthur’s wife that you will be polite to hor for his sake—for mine.” The gentlemen seeing her evident distress promised. Betty kissed thftn most affectionately and led the way to the drawing room to receive their guests. As tho young Countess entered the draw ing room where her visitors were awaiting her Sir Arthur advanced eagerly to meet her, and their greeting was most kindly— and then Lord Dudly welcomed her most cordially to Florence, and then taking Bet ty’s plump, jewelled hand in his own and not waiting for Sir Arthur, he led her to Nora who was seated with graceful ease on a divan, her sweet face beaming with pleas ure that her beloved husband was again be ing united to his friends. There was ill-concealed surprise and em barrassment as Lord Dudly presented the beautiful, refined Lady Nora to the young Countess and then to Lord Ernst and the Count as “my dear daughter”—tho “my daughter” expressing all the pride and af fection Lord Dudly felt for the lovely image of his wife. The air of patronage Lady Betty had in tended using toward the young plelxran wife—was forgotten, and acting in accord ance with her impulsive anti affectionate nature, she clasped the beautiful girl to her and kissed her rapturously, exclaiming: “Lady Nora, you are so lovely, 1 adore you! 1 never had a sister and 1 havo so longed for oue—be my sister!” The sweet girl returned the loving caresses delightedly, and all thoughts of low-birth was banished from the minds of her enter tainers. Lord Ernst understood the fancy of Lcrel Dudly for Nora as he noted with sur prise the striking resemblance to Lady Dud ly, whom he had loved so passionately and mourned so sincerely. Sir Arthur was much pleased with tho in ception given liis fair wife, and more so when he found she had such a loving aad devoted friend in his old playmate Betty. “Como and see our boy,” said Nora, as she bade adieu to the young Countess. “0, papa! dear husband! Is she not love ly!” crieu tho excited Betty, so delighted was she with her new friend. “She certainly is beautiful,” replied Lord Ernst, patting his daughter’s rosy cheek. “That angelic creature is never of loiV origin; there is some mystery about heir that neods explaining,” said the Count; thoughtfully. “She is the exact likeness of Lord Dudly’sl late wife, and wore it not that 1 saw the' bodj T of life dea l child myself in the coffin with its mother I should say tills child was Ludy Dudly’s,” said liord Ernst. “O, papa! is that why Lord Dudly lovos her so r cried his daughter. "Yes, niv child, I think it is—although it would lie eifey to love her for her own sweet self, for I imagine she is as good and lovely in character as she is in person. ” “There is a mystery somewhere—that girl never belongs to low people. She is t,<o an gelic mid too relhiod for that," insisted tho Count. “O, I shall love her dearly!” exclaimed Betty, clasping her dimpled hands with de light. “Khe fe so sweet!” Gird Ernst and tho Count smiled at bar enthusiasm. “1 wonder where Sir Arthur found her?” asked Alsloigh. "Somewhere in the wilderness of tho United States, I believe,” replied Lord Ernst. Many Englishmen who havo not visited the Units'll States still think that the coun try is still in its wild state with its original inhabitants yet roaming widely over its plains. “Whore did Lady Dudly die!” questioned the Count. Lord Ernst thought a moment and then said: "Why, I believe somewhere in the United States, hut I do not know cMi taiuiy.” “Do you remember the looks of Dudly’s dead child?” again asked Alsleigh. "Ye*, I remember being surprised that it was no dark while Dudly anu Ludy Nora were so fair. ” “Ah! aud both boar the name of ‘Nora!’ ” exclaimed tb Count. “Why, dear,” cried Betty; “you.surely do not think this is really Lord Dudiy’s daughter, do you!’’ exclaimed Betty, her eyes large with surprise. “I do not know, but it is strange.” CHAPTER XXXI. No two sisters could have be n more de votedly attached to each other than Betty and Nora. Scarcely a day passed that they did not meet and hold sweet communion together. And yet thoy were so directly opixisito to each other in appearance, disposition and taste —both beautiful but entirely different. Betty’s beauty was of tho dashing, saucy style—while Nora’s was of the ethereal type, which attracts most worshippers at its shrine. “Come and seo my boy,” had been Nora’s invitation, proud in her mother-love of this her sweet possession. And Betty did go to see him, and soon, very soon tho tiny feet were trotting utter “auntie” and asking for "doodles" to her heart’s content —for she had learned to love the sweet prattler as quickly as she had his beautiful mother: Little Arthur was now in life third. year and was grow ing into a stout, handsome boy. Without being bad he was a mis chievous little sprite, always ready for a romp, and lietwreen “grandpa, auntie and papa” he had fun to his heart’s content. liis "nitty mamma” ho loved dearly, and he could leave his play at any time to do her bidding—he would lie in her arms lor hours and listen to her sing. “Tiny, pitty mamma, tiny!” lisw>d the lit tle fellow’, as soon as his mamma was seated and lie cuddled in her arms. And Nora, with her sweet voice, would sing to him untiringly until the bright eyes were heavy with sleep aud the fringed eye lids drooped. As yet, his grandma had never seen this grandson, but she sent many sweet messages and pretty gifts, and the little boy knew g’an’ma by these and her picture—of liis other grandparents Nora never spoke—why, she did not Know —but since her removal from her home the way of life of that rough place seemed so unnatural, so differ ent from her tastes and desires that she felt almost as if it had lieen a dream of a fitful imagination. She liked the idea of being an American —she did not think—no matter what might happen that she would disown the land of her birth. Nora sent loving messages to Timmy and' Mag, and received Timmy’s rough scrawls in reply, with a message or so from Mag. Nora s int them many presents, not forget ting “Samp,” with which they were all do lighted. Margaret made her “bonnie boy” and his wife many a stool hy visit, und carric and home glowing accounts of Sir Arthur’s happy homo, his sweet wife aud the wonder ful boy. Time passed on and a girl was born o them with light hair aud olue eyes like iis mother, and Margaret came to be present at this little one’s christening also. Lady Noru was most anxious that this little one should be called “Aline” after tl o Countess—but Sir Arthur, much as ho loved his mother, urged that the babe should bo “Noru" after its own sweet mother and Lord Dudly’s deceased wife. Lord Duilly was more than pleased with this compliment and thanked the young folks most heartily—he had been to them as a much-loved parent, and now made his home entirely with them, surrounding them with luxuries that even with Sir Arthur’s largo income lie felt that ho could not af ford. Little Arthur divided his time between homo and “auntie’s," and it was only liis nuturally docile disposition that prevented him being thoroughly spoiled. Betty was godmother to the little Nora, and dearly ilia she love the sweet babe so liko its mother. Every ono had forgotten Nora’s differ ence in rank, and thought only of her own sweet seif. The babe was four months old and grow ing more Intel-eating every day, and its mother hod grown strong and well again. A letter was received from Timmy telling his “darter" that Mag’s health had com pletely failed aud she had taken to her bed. The news distressed Nora vory much, but tho cares of hor liubo and boy fori wide her hastening to the bedside of her mother much as she longed to do so. Ono bountiful balmy day Ixird Dudiv was sitting on a rustic sent on tho balcony en joying the delightful breeze when Nora brought hor babe and'put her in hfe arms as she used to do the little Arthur. She had placed the small chain with its tiny locket around the child’s neck which Mag had given to herself on parting. Lord Dudly’s quick eye discerned the trinket, and before Nora could prevent him he caught the locket in his hands and saw the initials “N. D.” engraved thereon, and pressing the spring tho lids flew open, dis closing the miniature of Lady Dudly and one of himself, tliken in early manhood. For a few moments his emotions were too great for utterance. Nora, frightened at his appearance, cried: “Father, dear father—what is tho mat ter!” Lord Dudly, controlling liis emotions as best he could, replied: “My child, where did you got this!” Nora, looking at him with surprise, an swered : “Mother gavo it to me just before I left home, and told me not to open it until I was far away from home.” • “Where did she gel/it?” “That Ido not know—she did not say.” “Did you never see the contents before?” asked Lord Dudly, looking at hor with a yearning look as a now idea entered liis mind. “No. She said it might be a benefit to me some day, butdid not say what.” Lord Dudiv handed hor the open locket, and she beheld to her astonishment herself— only clad in a different style—and u manly fare thnt resembled Lord Dudly, only younger. Nora looked at him inquiringly, and tho gentleman explained with much emotion: “That picture, my child, was my dearly boloved wife, and so like you that were it not for the different style of wearing the hair I should take it for you—and the other is myself when first married.” Kir Arthur now joined them and present ly B tty, accompanied by Lord Ernst and the young Count. The miniature's wore shown them and the circumstances explained. “My lord,” exclaimed Alsleigh, “there fe a mystery somewhere, and 1 am sure if this tidy (pointing to the miniature) was your dear wife, you ([minting to Nora) is your [awn dear daughter.” “O, if it were only so! if it were onlv *9!” cried Lord Dudly, gazing at Nora witU great yearning, "My lord, if it fe not too painful, re count the story of your joumev und your wife’s sad death,” asked Lord Ernst, now convinced that Nora was more to Dudly than ho knew, and therefore this strange lovedp tween them. Impel Dudly, with trembling voice, told again tho story, told by Timmy, several years’before. “And this happened with the siine jicoplo whore you met your wife!” asked the Count eagerly of Sir Arthur. “ Yes, her father told mo tho same story.” "Then depend upon it there fe some mys tery, and it only wants to be explained’ to bring father and daughter together; and that fntha- and daughter Lord Dudly and Lady Nora,” cried the Count, getting ex cited and /vigor to save this lovely lady from the stigma of the English idea of low birth. “Is there tio sign, that wo can tell more Bttrelyf’aslanl Lord Ernst. “Now. I ptinemMr, lair father told mo that there wteo a mark on Nora’s arm that he had not',noticed on that of his own child,” rcjilivi Arthur, as be remembered the story. “Let ino so<* it, my daughter! my child!” exclaimed Lvd Dudly, trembling with emotion. Nora bared her beautiful, white arm, and just above the elbow was a poculiar heart sb.qicd rnola Lard Dudijy gave a cry, and unbeuring hi* own arm, discovered another mark pre cisely like tint oh the arm of Nora. All pressed forward to soe, and doubt was instantly dispelled. “My own daughter !” “My dear, dear father!” And Norn ami Lord Dudly were clasped in each other’s arms in loving embrace. Both were supremely lmppy, now that they had found each other; for, although' they had no legal proof, yet all doubt in their minds was dispelled. Many anti hearty were the congratula tions the father and his daughter received from tins little group of rejoicing friends surrounding them, but all thought it best to say nothing to the outside world until the mystery was solved surely. Lord Dudly again made hasty prepara tions to again visit the United Stales and wrest the truth from Timmy and Mag, in some way, if possible. In the midst of his preparations, a letter' came from Timmy, urging Nora to come home with all haste as Mag wits worse and wanted to see herself anu Lord Dudly be fore she died. The children were given into the rare of “Auntie Betty,” while they should be away and father, husband and daughter started on their way to the United States, niaking all possible haste, lest they should bo too late They felt confident that all would now l>e cleared in regard to Nora’s birth, and that Lord Dudly could soon publish to the world that ho hail found a daughter, and that daughter the child of liis owu dear, dead wife. Arthur felt that now the stigma of low birth was to bo lifted from his idolized Nora, that there was a chance for recon ciliation with his father and he felt delight fully content, notwithstanding he was has - tening to a death bed, that of the foster mother of his darling. Nora experienced a feeling of pleasure, >, heretofore unknown, but the mystery of her iife-was a bewilderment to her, and as yet she did not realize it. [TO HE CONTINUED. ] Consumption, Scrofula, General De bility Wasting Diseases of Children, Chronic Coughs anil Bronchitis, can be cured by the use of Scott’s Emulsion of Pure Cod Liver Oil with Hypophosphites. Prominent physicians use it and testify to its great value. Please read tile following: “I used Scott’s Emulsion for an obstinate Cough with Hemorrhage, Loss of Appetite, Emaciation, Sleeplessness, etc. AJI of these tve now left, and I ls'lieve your Emulsion s saved a case of well developed Consump tion.” —T. J. Findley, M. D., Lone Star, Texas. v" ■- EDUCATIONAL. For Full Information of the Above School) CAM. ON OB ADDRESS HOENBTEIN Ac MACCAW, lOi Bay Street, Savannah, Ga. miX FEMALE COLLECT. LaORANGE, ga. /COLLEGE OF LETTERS, SHENCE AM V ART. FACULTY OF SEVENTEEN. Scholarship high. Library, Reading Room Museum, mounted telescope, apparatus, twvn one pianos, complete appliance*. Elocutioi ami Fine Art attractions. In MUSIC the Mis> Cox. directors; vocalist from Paris and Berlin distinguished pianist and ladies' orchestra Board and tuition, $207. School begins Sept. MRS. I. F’. COX. JTeHident. I^allrange, Ga. ST. JOHN S COLLEGE, Fordham, N. Y. ITNDER the direction of Jesuit Fathers: i beautifully situated in a very picturewju* and healthy part of New York county. The College affords every facility for the beat Classical, Heieutiflc and Commercial education Board and Tuition jmr year. $9OO. Studies will bo resumed. September 7, 1887. For further particulars apply to Uisv. THOMAS J. CAMPBELL, S. J. t l*i • Lucy Cobb Institute, A-TIIKNS. GKOKGIA. • '■p'U' Exercises of this School will be resumed 1 SEPT TANARUS, M. RUTHERFORD I>uiN( ipat. Rome Female College. (Under the coutrol of the Synod of Georgia.) Rome, Qt Rev.M. M. CALDWELL, President. r pHIRTV-FIHST year liegins Monday, Kkpt 5. JL I(W7. I'oroirculai A and information address S. C. CALDWELL, Rome. iia. OT. MARY'S SCHOOL FOR OIKI.S. Raleigh. IO N. Established ill I*l'.!. For Catalogue address the Rector, Rev. BENNETT SMEDES. ‘‘The climate of Raleigh is one of the best In the world.”— Bibhoi’ Lyman. STOVES. n rrv n Hi lie I ms look Stove. WE HAVE RECEIVED the agency for this nopalur Stove (over 100,000 In use), and take pleasure In offering the n I to our customer* It is heavy, diirulds. and took first prize a I Pennsylvania State Fair for baking. It has all the latest improvement*, including ventilated oven. CORNWELL A (,'HI PM AN, Odd Fellow*’ Building. JO TX ncLerta^fcer, Maeonto 'l’emple, CORNER LIBERTY AND WHITAKER STS,. Residence. lib Ahc.com. DRY GOODS, PRESIDENT CLEVELAND AND LADY TO BE TENDERED AN INVITATION TO -VISIT SAVANNAH, And the Public in general of this City and Vicinity In vited Especially this Week By Gray & O’Brien To Witness Their Grand Clearing Out, Sale of Summer Goods, which will be Closed out Regardless of Profit. Do not enter with a nervous, timid, Irresolute gait, but walk boldly into the Square-Dealing Hive of Industry. Our neighbors started the Fire of Reduction, but they could not keep it burning. Their fuel gave out, leaving GRAY & O’BRIEN to keep up the blaze, Our Pluck, Sagacity and Determination have been the means of keeping prices down. list 111 His Pi] Goods dims In Loaded, Charge them to the muzzle. Bring them to bear upon us, and you will find us the toughest metal ever moulded into live humanity. The Batteries have opened fire along the entire line, and behold the following grand results: 4 cases Pertshire Colored Lawns at 24c. 3 bales 4-4 Sea Island at file.; cheap ut Bc. 2 cases 4-4 Bleached Shirting, lightweight, at 6c.; worth Bc. 50 pieces Fine White Persian Lawns at 10c.; worth double. 25 pieces Colored Satoeus, choice patterns, at 10c.; worth 18c. 50 dozen Children's aud Misses’ Ilose at 15c.; worth from 30c. to 50c. 75 dozen Gents’ Unlaundried Shirts at 60c.; we consider them cheap at 75c. 50 dozen Gauze Underwear to be closed out at big bargains. 20 dozen White Bed Spreads at 75c. and $1; will cost us more to duplicate. • 50 pieces of Summer Silks (fine grades) to be offered at New York actual cost. G3 pieces Colored Batiste Lawns at 8 1-3 cents; reduced from 124 c. 1 big job lot of White Embroideries at 10c. a yard; heap at 15c. and 20c. 10 pieces left of that Unbleached Linen Drill for Pants at 20c; very cheap at 30c. 49 pieces Egyptian and Oriental Laces to be closed out at a sacrifice. A big lot of Ladies’ and Gents’ Handkerchiefs, on con signment, we will sell cheap. A big lot of Remnants of Black Goods to be closed out this week. A big lot of Remnants of Silks of all descriptions; name ymir own price. 15 pieces Bleached and Unbleached Table Linens just re ceived; we will offer at a bargain. 23 pieces White Plaid Mulls at Bc., 10c., 124 c. and 15c.; these are the reduced prices. A big consignment of Boys’ Pants and Suits, perfect fit ting goods, to be sold cheap. SPECIAL. • The most elegant line of Nice Silk Parasols ana Sun Shades ever produced in Savannah. Any lady or gentleman can be suited in this line. Gents’ Nice Silk Umbrellas a specialty. We handle the most popular Silks in this line, aud the wearing gives the best satisfaction. We handle (please bear in mind) the most reliable goods. Come and see the announced aud unannounced bargains At 147 Broughton Street. Gray & O’Brien. Greers Receive Careeue Attention.-ASA 5