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“ Oh! how devout and wonderfully becoming I
somebody evidently thinks it Look there, at
the angle o*f the pulpit. He has been staring at
you these twenty minutes.”
“You should teach him better manners,” Lyt
answered.
She did not need to raise her eyes; she was
only too conscious of the dark, bright eyes that
had been fastened upon her face as though they*
found there heaven itself. She was glad when
the notes of the opening hymn gathered such
clusters of the brethren about the place as hid
her from his view. Norah’s tone of railery
jarred on her sense of propriety quite as much
as though she had been Colonel Windsor’s wife
instead of only his fiancee. Lyt had been taught
that a promise was something sacred, to be held
inviolable, and more faithfully kept than any
written or legal obligation. Could it be possible
that Mrs. Marcy was right ? that Norah, at heart,
preferred Major Bethel, and so might be mind
ed to be “ off wi’ the new love and on wi’ the
auld.” Though her demeanor was unimpeach
able throughout; though she sang in a clear
contro-alto the well-known hymns, knelt at
every prayer, and spoke never a word to any, I
very much fear that the problems above stated
interfered with Miss Canmore’s comprehension
of any of the many propositions of Dr. Show’s
sermon, though it was one of his very best, and
in his opinion well worth the listening of any
body; for Dr. Show was a man of many gifts,
not the least amongst which was a lively appre-
“ We’U live 'way over yonder, in
Bright mansion* above;
We’U reign ’way over yonder, in
Bright mansions above;
’Way over yonder, in
Bright mansions above.”
The effect is electrical. Shouts come up from
every hand; many are sobbing from sheer ex
citement, or the tension of overwrought nerves;
there is suspicious moisture on Mr. Inge s
drooped lids; Miss Mercy is too muoh exer
cised to more than remark that Carroll Maybe w
is at the mourner’s bench; Mrs. Marcy looks
very serious, her husband rather sleepy; Lyt
stands somewhat apart, sharing the contagious
enthusiasm, but making no sign of it other
than the tensely clasped hands; Colonel Wind
sor leans against a rude pillar, watching her
from its shadow’ as intensely as though there
were no singing or shouting about him. Pres
ently there is a lull, and after another brief
prayer, the doxology and benediction, our
friends are once more in Squire Mann s tent.
Mrs. Dane was there already, with Ella and
Miss Lou, all three snugly ensconced in bed.
“ I am an old hand,” she laughed, “and knew
that the only chance of a good place to sleep
was to leave early. You must do the best you
can;” and indeed it seemed as though there
were no best for the lingerers.
“ What shall w’e do with our things?” quer-
ried Norah, with her hands full ot et ceteras,
after a despairing survey of matters. “ There
is no place to lay them down, and we can’t wear
ciation of all his others, and of himself as a ] them all night.”
whole. In popular phrase, he was a “flowery j “Here,” said Lyt. opening and inverting her
speaker,” and indeed, few men I have listened | parasol, “ Bella, Miss Mercy, hand over all your
to had greater command or happier choice of j displaceable valuables, quick ! There now,”
words. He was a reflective man; not introver- j closing it deftly over its cargo of fans, chains,
sive, but mirror-like: so w T as often guilty of— j ribbons and laces, and fastening the hooked
perhaps unconsciously—plagiary, with an im- handle in a knot-hole in the wall. “Don’t you
mense and highly-developed personality, that I gee that necessity is the mother of invention?”
sometimes came so prominently to the fore-j “So I’ve always heard,” says Norah, saucily;
ground as to rather obscure Jesus Christ and I “but oh ! won’t we be frights in the morning?”
Him crucified, yet gifted with zeal, address, en- I “Come over into the side room,” called good
ergy, that made him more useful and popular J Mrs. Mann; “there are but six in hereto fifteen
than many unquestionably his superiors in where you are,” and thither our lriends went,
piety, learning and genius. His voice was mag- ! ahd slept in tolerable comfort,
nificent, having the power and compass of an j Our gentlemen, with many others who pre
organ peal, and the large class of revival ferred, as indeed who would not, its air to
preachers who rely more upon their strength of ; that of the tents, passed the night under the
lungs than of logic for their hearers’conviction; j shelter, in a sleep sound as that of the right-
none ever better understood its management. ; eous, whence they were wakened at daylight by
In this great crowd he was heard by all w’ho the wildly-vocal horn, and rejoining their ladies,
chose to listen, but they, I am sorry to say, were I after a good breakfast, all went homeward,
scarcely a majority, as some held the sermon '• Norah was charmed beyond measure with her
only an abridgement of their legitimate holiday, j new’experience, and quite won the heart of Mrs.
which they were bound to disregard, and others, j Mann, by the grace with which she thanked the
whom their chatter kept from hearing, soon i latter for the hospitality shown her. Colonel
added their own tongues to the clamor. j Windsor did not share her enthusiasm, and as
The sermon over, the tents filled, and many a j they drove along even questioned that such
meal was therein toilfnlly made ready. Our j places ever did real good.
triends, and many likewise provident, ate a pic- j “ Yes they do,” she persisted, with a shadow
dinner amid the wilderness of emptied j of a pout. “This one has, I know—incident-
nic
seats. There was a space of unlimited chatter,
then a sharp blast from a long-throated tin horn
proclaimed the three o’clock sermon, preached
by the Kev. Mr. Apricot, an example of arrested
clerical development, who, in his “third year,”
was looked upon as the most promising man of
a by no means dull conference, but who then,
happening to marry rich, immediately quit
growing, yet is still reverently regarded by his
brethren for what he might have been. He got
no mourners to the altar; though Dr. Show’s
effort showed bowed and quaking forms in the
audience, the impression was dissipated by
Kev. Apricot’s painfully immature handling of
his theme; and the crowd only laughed at the
violent vigor of Kev. Mr. Hibow, the presiding
elder, whose miniatory exhortation hurled over
their devoted heads, as in Sinai thunders, the
terrors of the law.
“ I am disappointed,” said Norah. “Ithought
there was a great deal of noise and excitement
at camp-meeting. There has been no shouting
night. Do you wish to stay ?”
“ Could we ? and sleep in those funny little
tents ? Oh, it would be splendid !”
“We certainly can; I have had a dozen invi
tations to do so. What do yon say Bella, Eliza,
ally;” and then, as he seems incurious about
the incidental good, there is a space of silence,
while she regards intently Lyt and Major Bethel,
just ahead; and after many minutes of reverie,
murmurs to herself:
“I am glad that quarrel is made up at last”—
checking herself, suddenly—“Oh! please for
get that! I was thinking aloud.”
It was high noon, brilliant, blazing, uncloud
ed, when they reached Elmridge, which seemed
to glow’ and shimmer in the sunshine, but I
think that somehow Colonel Windsor found it
hardly so radiant as when he left it yesterday,
under a sky that showed only faint rifts of
blue—why, the reader may guess.
CHAPTEK XIV.
IS SOMEWHAT TEDIOUS AND EXPLANATORY.
“ We are happy to announce that in addition
to the distinguished orators already secured for
the Grange Exhibition to-morrow, the public
may expect to hear two of M’s most brilliant
F. Dane. Both are so well and so favorably
known hereabout, that we need not advise our
people to go and hear them.”
This paragraph duly appeared in the Greene-
cille Chronicle, for Wednesday next preceding
Lyt ? Of course the young folks and the gen- the Lineville Exhibition, and would perhaps
tlemen won't object.” have swelled to yet huger proportions the crowd
Neither did the ladies questioned, for the ! of that memorable occasion but for the fact that
novelty, excitement and picturesque discomfort
of the place had been without effect upon none.
Accordingly, the gentlemen went to see after the
due feeding and tethering of their horses, and
the ladies to Squire Mann’s tent, where, in com
pany of a score more, they washed and pow
dered their faces, and smoothed their somewhat
rumpled garments into a semblance of present-
ability. Supper was duly eaten at the going
down of the sun, and afterward, in the gather-
it did not meet the eyes of one in a hundred of
the Chronicle's readers imtil too late to be of
force and effect, owing to the fact that through
out Greene county it was a custom, which had
the full force of unwritten law, to go to the post-
office only on a Saturday evening, a custom
which, on the strength of the station’s near con
tiguity, Elmridge had grown to disregard; con
sequently, Wednesday night Mr. Marcy read
aloud the statement I have quoted to the party
ing twilight, all the world stirred abroad to i about his supper-table, which comprised all
meet and mingle with its neighbors. Then j those whose history we have followed through-
lights began to gleam w’hitely from the tents, j out the last week.
the shelter’s rude, rope-swung chandelier to I “Keallj’, Mr. Inge, when did you grow into
glow with smoky glimmers, and the stream of I an ‘Honorable?’” Lyt said, saucily. “I thought
promenaders to overflow all the most eligible ; 3-on were proud to keep intact the high distinc-
seats, tor it was known to all that the preacher i tion of a private citizen.”
they would hear was the Kev. Dr. Strong. ! “I am,” he said. “You don’t understand.
Slight, spare and sinewy, with the kindliest of Fenton, the Chronicle editor, is the kindest-
keen blue eyes and close-cut, reddish beard,
what a contrast is he to the full-fed, black-haired,
oleaginous Show. His voice is clear, smooth
and pleasant, and he does not have to raise it
to make himself heard, his voice being as dis
tinct twenty yards away as at the side of the
speaker. He gave up a splendid career in an
other profession, constrained by the voice of
God to preach His love to earth: and here there
is nothing in the foreground which shall tempt
thoughts or eyes from the pale Christ, yet he
gives us thoughts with the glow and life of un
questioned individuality, apt illustration, rea
soning close, cogent and invincible, and pleads
eloquently and oh ! how earnestly with sinners,
that they may not let the unsearchable riches
be offered in vain. And rarely is his pleading
of more effect. Now, as he sinks quivering and
exhausted into a seat, there is a tumultuous
thrill throughout an audience thoroughly en
rapport, and while prayer is made for God’s
presence in spirit and in power, there are moans
and cries, low sobs and loud amens throughout
the kneeling throng. The hymn of invitation,
“ Conte, humble sinner, in whose breast
A thousand thoughts revolve;
Come with your guilt and fear oppressed
And make this last resolve,”
hearted fellow alive, and thought I would be
hurt if written plain Mr. Inge in the same para
graph with General Dane and Colonel Windsor.
VHonorable ’ is very handy in such cases; Stiges
always uses it.”
“ Then I suppose it implies only that a man
has no other title ?”
“ Exactly—that is, with some people. Others
make the same use of Major. But plague on
that scoundrel! ‘Honorable’ I can overlook;
but ‘ J. Aylett ’ I will never forgive him. I say,
Windsor, did you know we were going to speak?
I am rather at the first of it.”
“I intend to,” says that gentleman—“that is,
if the people will give me a hearing.”
“ What can you say ?” from Mrs. Marcy. “You
aren’t a Granger, and they professedly eschew
politics.”
“ There are some non-political questions that
urgently require ventilation—such as the call
ing of the proposed Constitutional Convention,
and the adoption of some measures looking to
much-needed legal reforms.”
“ Will you fall in with the Grange plan of
reforming your legalities off the face of earth,”
Mr. Inge queried gravely.
“ Hardly. I shall speak equally in the inter
est of the people and the, professions, between
is pealing from a hundred throats on the soft j whom there is not the slightest necessary antag-
night air; the flaring, flickering lights throw , onism. Our Constitution, framed some eighty
weird shadows, and lend a strange unreality to
all things. The altar is full of penitents, some
silently sobbing, some quiet, almost apathetic,
some crying aloud under the burden of sin;
bending above them, with words of consolation
and encouragement, are the ministers and older
Christians. Hark! Clear and wild above all
other sounds comes the shout of some for the
time transfigured soul; another, yet another. It
is those three old ladies at the corner, whose
favorite niece, now clasped in their arms, has
just found the way of salvation. A little, ex
citable woman, who has knelt for some time be
side a hopeless-looking boy of seventeen, rises
at the sound and rushes to the trio with:
“ Thank God! oh! thank God ! sisters. Now,
brethren, sing the “Old Ship of Zion,” and let
my Johnny get aboard, and I’ll be happy, hap-
pee, happee!”
It is sung with a will, and as it rises clear and
strong there are shouts, other converts, faces
shining with the light of a new life, others that
seem almost to show the reflection of paradise;
penitents come yet more thickly; there is prayer
that might almost move a blind and dumb God;
then some one raises an old, old tune, almost a
l monochord, with a rude chorus that has come
Mown from frontier times:
years ago, is fairly outgrown, and needs essen
tial modification to meet the changed condition
of things. Our statute-book groans under such
a weight of bungling, inadequate or ambiguous
laws, framed by incompetent or corrupt legis
lators, that the simplest questions of right and
justice may be effectually befogged in a cloud of
statutory enactments past the finding out of any
jury in the State, while our courts are much
nearer all they should not than all they should
be.”
“ Hear—hear the Hon. E. Windsor M. C., from
the Sixth district.”
“ You are quite mistaken. I have no such as
piration—only the interest of a true citizen in
the general welfare, which is grievously hurt by
this state of things; and knowing the remedy
to be in the people’s own hands, would persuade
them to apply it. We need reform everywhere;
fewer elections, which are now harrassingly
frequent; very much fewer officers, with larger
salaries, so that they may be—as now they are
notably not —worth the acceptance of first-class
men; a codification of laws that shall make
them intelligible even to the non-legal mind; an
exact enforcement of law against all persons; a
rigid holding to account of all in places of pub
lic trust, and general recognition of the princi
ple that men must be chosen for high places on
the ground of real fitness instead of mere pro
fessions. Such government any people may
have if they will, and might well be proud of.
By contrast, I quite lose patience with our pres
ent slip-shod, happy-go-lucky pettv-parcel-Btyle
of things.”
“Save that for to-morrow, Colonel; this ain’t
Lineville,” Morton calls out, while Mr. Inge
adds:
“ Your temple of liberty is amazingly fine,
but though ever %o well builded, it would not
stand three years, based as it is on the quick
sand of universal suffrage.”
‘ ‘That point we’ll not argue, ” retorts the Colonel.
“Knowing your heresy, I will refrain from ex- i
posing it before the ladies. You live some three
hundred years too late. Aylett was left over,
I half believe, from the last batch of feudal
Grand Seigneurs.”
“Why?” asks Norah.
“Because he is at heart such a staunch aristo
crat. ”
“Why should he not be one,” says Lyt, “if
that suits his temper?”
“Because Democracy is the better creed,
tending equally to the world’s advancement and
the individual’s elevation.”
“I do not like Democracy. The only person
I ever saw who accepted it to the full, and con
sidered himself not above or below anything or
anybody, was an unmitigated nuisance. I quite
agree with Mr. Inge that unrestricted suffrage is
the bane of free government, as enabling the un
intelligent masses to control those who are really
capable of self-government. ”
“But make the masses intelligent.”
“How? By State education? You cannot do
it. But if you attempt it, let your government
be paternal, not pseudo-representative. A grand
eleemosynary system providing for every want
of its paupers, not citizens, or a huge tyrannical
machine—like say the Prussian Empire—ever
molding plastic humanity into forms for its use.
To my thinking, the least governed are the best
governed people.”
“Truer than preaching, every word of it,”
said Mr. Inge, while the rest laughingly ap
plauded Miss Canmore’s eloquence, over which
she herself blushed a little, and which, while it
was very far from convincing Col. Windsor of
the error of his way, or maybe did not even make
him firmer in his belief, yet did not inspire in
his legal soul the disgust one might have expect
ed considering his opinion—expressed in chap
ter 1st—of such performances, which said opin
ion was nowise altered, but like laws in time of
war, held in abeyance by a superior force.
Lyt was on the piazza, watching the slender
new moon, just trembling above the horizon.
Mr. Inge came leisurely out, and seated himself
on the steps at her feet, saying as he lighted a
cigar,
“I know without asking, I may smoke.”
Then, after a few meditative puff's,
“Do you know I mean you shall go with me
to-morrow ?”
“No,”?Lytsaid slowly, “how came you to pur
pose such a thing ?”
“Well, lam fond of doing good, and knew
the arrangement would make two people happy.”
“ Indeed ? Who are they ?”
“Myself and Miss Mercy.”
“Why! What has she to do with it?”
“Only this: Bethel takes Miss Norah, you
go with me, Windsor per force takes her, as he
would not be so impolite, not to say hard-heart
ed, as to lift eyes to Miss Estill or Miss Ella
Dane.”
“I wonder what he thinks of what I said to
him at supper!”
“Do you care much?”
“Yes, a good deal. One does not often meet
a man possessing so many really fine qualities,
and if he will let me, I mean to like him very
cordially. ”
“ ’Shouldn’t think he would object. Does he
try to prevent it?”
“No—that is—not designedly, I think.”
“ He is a fine fellow, though a little too fault
less to be thoroughly likeable.”
“I see you retain your antipathy to perfec
tion.”
“ Always shall. Windsor and I would be the
best of friends, if he would only make a fevrfaux
pas.”
“ Then La Rochefoucauld was right in say
ing ‘Weare always glad to see others brought to
our own level.’”
“Precisely. I don’t mean, though, that I want
him to do anything wrong or wicked, or that
would get him into trouble, but only to make
some of those annoying little blunders that are
always overturning the best-laid schemes of the
rest of us. He infallibly does the right thing at
the right time, in the right place, whether his
aim is to win an election, convince a judge or
jury, or flatter a woman.”
“What is his purpose in staying so long in
this region ? Something beyond mere friendli
ness, I am sure.”
“ Motives, even for our simplest actions, are
very complex things. Why do you suppose I
came out here ?”
“Well, let me see. Primarily to smoke that
cigar, secondarily to see the new moon, inci
dentally, perhaps, to tell me of the arrangements
for to-morrow. ”
“And mainly and chiefly?”
“ I can think of nothing more considerable
than what I have named.”
“ Mainly and chiefly to tell you that—I love
you.”
‘ ‘ Mr. Inge!”
“And to ask, will you marry me?”
The words were very quietly spoken, but with
an undertone of tremor that gave them a terrible
earnestness. Not the most glowing raptures that
ever fell from the lips of love could have so
touched Lyt as the simple eloquence of this
avowal, which sought no disguise, made no feint
attack, but spoke bravely, frankly, candidly the
honorable purpose of an honorable man. There
was silence for some minutes—not that she was
engaged, as ladies phrase it, in “ making up her
mind,” for though genuinely surprised at this
transmutation of a long-time friend into an eli
gible lover, her instincts were too quick and
fine to leave an instant’s doubt as to what must
be her answer, but that she was striving for self-
command that should enable her to say what
must be said as briefly and as delicately as pos
sible.
“I am waiting very impatiently,” he said at
last, taking a passive hand between both his
own.
It was not withdrawn, but trembled very much
in his clasp as she said, scarce above her hard-
hurried breath:
“Please forget what you said, and—and—be
my friend—still.”
“ As I can be nothing more. Well, Lyt, God
bless you always and any way,” with a little
deepening of the husky tremor, and a close
pressure of the hand that freed itself gently, to
be clasped with its fellow over the face, now over
run with very pitiful tears. He got up and
stood beside her, lightly touching the bowed
head, saying very tenderly:
“ Don’t cry, darling; I know you are sorry for
me, but the headache it will give you will not do
my heartache the least bit of good. You are not
to blame for—for—not—loving me. Go dry
your eyes, and be ready to sing for me after
aV After which Lyt went away almost sobbing,
and Mr. Aylett Inge sat down again and lit an
other cigar, which he puffed furiously for awhile,
but which then changed its fitful glow for ashen
greyness, and at last went out altogether, as that
gentleman studied intervals of constellation
and milky-way, and mused on life and things in
a very different vein to what the world would
have expected of a man in his position—the j Mr. Griffith, I think there is agood opportuni y
world which held him equally a scoffer at all of testing, some friends of mine. Does any one
holy things, a mocker at all love, whereas I have j in Arborville know this ? ,, .
never known a man with more real reverence or j “ No one except a young man who guided me
tenderness for all things deserving them. This j here, and I wish to guard you against him. He
world would have said, had it sat in judgment j actually desired me not to tell you that any one
on our friend just now, that all the hurt he had j except myself was aware of your charged cir-
got in the late encounter was to his pride, which 1 cumstances, when he left me at your gate,
was chafed by the acknowledgment that he, the “Mr. Agnew !” exclaimed Berry,
undeniably wealthy, well-bred, well-looking and J But Mr. Griffith did not know his name, and
notably fastidious, had been rejected of any
woman, and would also, perhaps, have agreed
that he was justly piqued; but I, his faithful
chronicler, who know him infinitely better, do
record that he sat on the steps, and studied the
stars, with a keen pain at his heart, a most dis
comforting sense of loss and isolation, yet with
no other feeling for the woman who had dealt
him this blow than the reverential tenderness
his words had shown. His hurt was sore, yet he
had a kind of grim satisfaction in probing its
depths and philosophizing to himself about it.
He was not going to die about it (who ever did ?)
nor did he even think the pain would endure for
ever; perhaps in a few weeks, or, utmost, months,
it would be quite gone and forgotten; but now
he felt as though life had lost its charm—worse,
indeed, than when, at the age of nineteen, he
had been thrown over by Miss Belle Looney for
after a little more conversation, he presented
her with a check for five hundred dollars, and
took his leave. She ran up-stairs, into her aunt's
room, exclaiming:
“Oh, Aunt Huldah ! Aunt Huldah, look
here! You shall have anew stove, a large house,
and everything else you want.”
The next evening, Junius Agnew, faultlessly
attired, presented himself at Mrs. Arkwright’s
door, and was admitted into the sitting-room,
where Berenice sat sewing. The room already
bore marks of the changed fortune of its in
mates; a sewing machine, with its mahogany
cover thrown back, occupied one corner, and
the hyacinths, on the mantel, which had formerly
been accommodated in cracked wine-glasses,
were blossoming afresh in rosy, transparent
bulb-glasses.
“ Good-morning, Miss Berry,” with a proffer
rich, red-faced Judge McDaggart. Youth's air- | of his hand, which the unsophisticated girl
cushion of conceit broke the force of that tall
still he would get over it, and until he did,
as much for her sake as for his own, the rest
m ust not see how hardly he had been hit. So
he went indoors, and taking Mr. Marey’s hand
at euchre, was outrageously complimentary to
his partner, Miss Mercy, and aggravntingly civil
to his adversaries, Norah and Major Bethel,
against whom there was a perpetual run of ill
luck.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
[for The Sunuy South.]
Berenice Leslie’s Fortune.
BY ZOE ZENITH.
Lawyer Griffith got off the train at Arborville
half-reluctantly, and, turning his coat collar
above his ears, started down the sleet-paved
avenue dignified by the title of Main street.
Though it had been only two hours since he
quitted his comfortable office in Richmond, it
had been time enough to convince him that
ease-loving gentlemen of fifty-seven should not
travel in December.
“I wish,” quoth he, fervently though inter
nally, “that old Aaron Leslie had put off his
dinner until next summer—May, at least. Hal
lo ! Beg pardon, sir, or rather, I think you’d
better ask mine.”
A sudden slide upon the icy sidewalk had
precipitated him upon a gentleman who was,
except himself, the sole pedestrian in the street.
In turn, the lawyer received a shove which pro
pelled him in the opposite direction, until he
brought up against somebody’s yard palings.
“Excuse me,” said Junius Agnew, after a
second’s scrutiny of the well muffled old gentle
man. “ I was not at first aware that you are my
senior.”
“ You need not have given your senior such
a push. Hope you’ll make amends by guiding
me to a fire. Are you acquainted with the high
ways and by-ways of this abominable town ?”
“Its local denomination is Arborville,” re
sponded Mr. Agnew. “ I have the honor of
being one of its citizens. ’
“No great honor,” growled the half-frozen
non-resident. “Can you tell me where to find
Miss Berenice Leslie ?”
“Who? Little Berry Leslie? About half a
mile from here. I am going in that direction,
and will show you the house. May I ask if you
are a relative of hers ?” with a touch of anxiety.
“Not the slightest. Do you know anything
about her circumstances?”
“ She’s extremely poor. Mrs. Leslie received
a small annuity trom an uncle, grandfather, or
somebody, but it ceased at her death, and Berry
is living with an aunt—Mrs. Arkwright.”
“You seem to know her quite intimately.”
could not help seeing. “ How fortunate I am
to meet with a cordial reception ! I was afraid
yon had concluded that your friends had for
gotten you. Important business and a trip to
Richmond have prevented my seeing yon for
several weeks.”
“No, Mr. Agnew, I had not yet reached that
conclusion. Some of my former friends have
been kind enough to remember me.”
“ Myself among the number, although I have
not seen you. But how beautiful are these
flowers! Will you accept a few which I bring
from my sister ?”
Now, as Miss Agnew had publicly cut Miss
Leslie j ust after her mother’s death, she accepted
the exquisite floral tribute with rather a bad
grace.
“I am very grateful to her. Mr. Agnew,
don’t you intend congratulating me upon my
unexpected inheritance?”
Junius put on an excellent mask of astonish
ment.
“Congratulate? Please, Miss Berry, explain
yourself.”
“Excuse me, Mr. Agnew, but—do you know
Mr. Griffith?”
“I never, to my knowledge, met a gentleman
of that name.”
Berry was really astonished. She hesitated,
and then said briefly:
“He is my guardian, by the will of my grand
father, who has left me his estate.”
“I offer you my sincere congratulations, Miss
Berry, but forgive me for saying that, for my
own sake, I am sorry.”
This was said so blandly that her suspicions
returned like a flash.
“ Why?” she asked concisely.
Mr. Agnew dropped gracefully into a chair
beside her, and said eloquently:
“Because I fear the imputation of mercenary
motives when I seek your hand. Because I
came here to-day to tell you that I love you; to
ask permission to share my affluence with one
who can more than repay me.”
She snatched her fingers from his clasp and
rose.
“Mr. Agnew, can you positively and truly aver
that you came here considering me penniless?”
He rose also, stammering, but recovering him
self, exclaimed:
“Oh, Berenice! how can you be so unjust?
Believe me, that I love you only.”
“No, Mr. Agnew, I must believe what you dare
not deny. If it be true, excuse me for the
doubt. I am compelled to ask you to forget
me. Good-morning.”
The following day was Christmas Eve.
Lawyer Griffith sat in his office writing rap
idly. It was undoubtedly a model office. The
great arm-chairs were models of comfort and
luxury; a cheery anthracite fire burned in a
“Well, yes; quite a friend in a charitable way, j large Franklin stove; the ponderous law-books
^ood family, but she doesn’t
you know. It’s a
go into society.
“She will, in future. She has become an
heiress.”
They were at a corner. J unius Agnew stopped
short, looked up and down the angle, and then
stared at his companion as if he were the
Sphynx.
“ Berenice Leslie ! You must be mistaken.”
“ Not at all, sir. But I can’t stand in this
slippery place talking. Lead the way, if you
please.”
“ Certainly. Excuse me, but—how did it
happen ? Does she know it ?”
“ The grandfather you spoke of died three
days ago. She knows nothing of it. But you
seem to be deeply interested.”
“ I am a friend of the family, as I told you.”
“She will have no further occasion for chari
ty,” said the lawyer, dryly, feeling pretty cer
tain that she would not object to his spreading
the news.
Junius Agnew colored and bit his lip, laying
his hand hesitatingly on the latch of a small
gate which led to a story and a half cottage.
“Please excuse that remark. I regret it ex
ceedingly. Sir, will you do me a small favor,
which will cost you nothing ?”
“Humph ! That depends upon what it is. I
never grunt favors in the dark. ”
“Merely that you will not let Miss Leslie
know that you have told me of these facts.”
“I could not, if I chose. I have not the
pleasure of knowing your name.”
“ X'imporle. You need not tell her that any
person, except yourself, knows the terms of the
will. Let her have the pleasure of telling the
news. ”
“ Without knowing that I have forestalled her?
I believe I must bid you good-morning here.”
“ One moment: Are you the custodian of her
estate ?”
“ She comes into possession at eighteen.
Either let me pass, or call the coroner—I am
freezing!”
“I beg pardon for detaining you. The fam
ily is at home. Good-morning.”
“Berry,” said Aunt Huldah Arkwright,
“ there’s some one at the gate.”
Berry peeped through one of the narrow,
dormer windows.
“It’s Mr. Agnew, I declare, and a stranger
with him.”
“ Well, change your dress and go down-stairs.
If it’s an insurance agent or a lightning-rod
man, tell him I’m engaged.”
In the meantime, lawyer Griffith knocked
rather loudly at the front door. It was opened
by a little negro, who ushered him into a tiny
but neat sitting-room, warmed by a splendid
wood-fire.
“Is Miss Berenice Leslie at home?”
The young lady entered as he spoke; a slender,
graceful girl, with gold-brown hair, velvety-blue
eyes, perfect mouth, and archly-sweet expres
sion—a veritable Titania, dressed in gray chintz,
trimmed with bright, contrasting plaid.
The lawyer proffered his card with a Chester-
fieldian bow.
“ Miss Leslie, I believe ? I wish to see you
on important business.”
It did not take long, under the genial influence
of that glowing fire, to inform Miss Berry of
her sudden accession of fortune, and also that
he was to be her guardian until she concluded
her eighteenth year, i. e., for the next three
months. Eighty thousand dollars ! The mag
nitude of the sum almost took her breath away
at fiist, but presently she said, simply:
“ I don’t know whether I am glad or sorry.
were neatly arranged in handsome walnut book
cases, and over the desk hung, in massive frames,
portraits of Coke, Blackstone, Patrick Henry
and Edward Everett.
“I wish,” he muttered half-aloud; “I wish
Jonas Sneed had deferred making his will until
after Christmas. I'm tempted to turn it over to
some luckless wight who wouldn’t mind the
season. Scipio, you scamp, what are you inter
rupting me for ? I can’t see clients on Christ
mas Eve.”
“Please, sir,” said the factotum of the office,
“ it's a lady, sir, and she says she didn’t come
on business.”
“Oh! well, show her in,” and Scipio threw
open the door to Miss Berenice Leslie, as beau
tiful a visitor as ever a lawyer received. She
wore a walking-dress of gray serge, with a car
dinal cape of richest crimson, and a bird of the
same hue nestled among the ostrich feathers on
her gray felt hat.
“ Miss Berenice, my dear ward, what can
have brought you to Richmond ? No legal ad
vice needed, I hope ?”
“Not a legal matter at all, Mr. Griffith. I
only came to ask you a question.”
“ Quite a journey for that purpose. However,
proceed with your interrogatives as if we had
changed characters and I was in the witness-
box. Take a chair first.”
But notwithstanding the permission to be as
inquisitive as she chose, Miss Berenice seemed
to have lost all her curiosity. Her tongue grew
as stammering as that of Demosthenes, and her
color deepened to a vivid carnation. At length,
she asked desperately.
“ Do you remember warning me against Mr.
Agnew ?”
“Certainly. I hope he doesn’t intend chal
lenging me for doing so. ”
“ He came next day and addressed me, and I
dismissed him because he couldn’t deny that
he had heard about my late legacy. The same
day I received a letter from Richmond, from
Mr. George Ashley, and,” faltering, “he asked
me to be his wife. I have not yet answered
him, because I wanted to find out whether he
too knew that I was no longer poor. Aunt ad
vised me to come and ask you.”
After which speech, well-interspersed with
blushes, she caught her breath, and with droop
ing head awaited Mr. Griffith’s answer.
“ Hem ! Mr. George Ashley !” he said, mus
ingly. “And who is he? — another fortune-
hunter ?”
“ He is a gentleman, sir,” said Berenice, in
dignantly. “ Honest and true; above all sus
picion of being a fortune-hunter. ”
“But, little girl, if you have already formed
your opinion of this young gentleman, whv
come to me for advice ? When judge and de
fendant are identical, it is useless for opposing
counsel to attempt convincing them.”
“ Especially when you have no arguments,”
she put in, triumphantly.
“Very true. And now I will give you my
opinion of the case in point. George Ashley is
well known to me. He deserves the high char
acter which you have given him. He cannot
possibly be aware of the contents of your grand
father’s will; they are known only to myself and
two witnesses, both of whom are strangers to
him. Is that sufficient ? But you are not going
back to Arborville to-day ?” 0
“ I must—Auntie is expecting me.”
But Mr. Ashley, whom Mrs. Arkwright was
not expecting, went down on the same train,
and the consequence of all was, that lawyer
Griffith visited Arborville the ensuing March to
give away his pretty ward.