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Hope’s Story Rannetb Thus - s!
. aSas’S? ,2,t “ ,,SS0S l to £»&*SKSW8
' *“*•!■ Mrs. Adair
LeeUe Siu-
art’a devotion to hia mother; not tbat
ad happy whan (ho tri -wookly mail
upon’the' featurpiT“nr I in without aquae Intelligence of thia
rtpreeented. Sue* wee * wfi" h ° m tt lored mother. All of Karl Adair's heart
woman, not more than tLiSr2^- y0aD ? I WM bound up in home. No spot was as
age, with dark even °£ I fair to him aa Tanglewoodj no mother so
-5 J ey g a V? f «tngni*r beauty of | dear as hie own: no sister so lovely and
hair Wing’ raund h rln «*oadmirable as hie sweet Hope.
Mse Jr&isrft 1 "SJSysS; 2nd 1 “ Tflere ha7a th “
tenderness; and Ellen forgot old AUck
while pond-ring on the probable fate of
the tender parent. It was all so myste
rious, and yet she felt that Old's Provi
dence worketh all things, and that His
wisdom lay underneath all that now
seemed dark and unfathomable.
- „ bnlf hour s talk longer with her
nuthful A ick, and when he had refresh „ ^
he left Tanglewood with a I acd love yours. That sweat sister of
There you bare the advantage of me,
Karl; I have no sister; we are el me,
mamma and I, and we are all in ail to
each other.
My mother's voice! how often creeps
Its cadency on my lonely hours!
1 could not bear to give her one mo
ment's pain. I know she has suffered—
yes, suffered, but not sinned. You most
know my mother, and I hope to know
purse of shining gold pieces and the best
wishes of the young woman whom he had
fondly revered since she was a little child
at her father's knee.
EUen Adilr looked transformed as she
yonra shall be my sister also. Yon have
already taught me to love htr.”
“Yes,” answered Kar); “it most be so.
Daring our next vacation yon must
at company me home. I long to show
The Happiness that Came, that' Wdyta* Wot^SE ““ %*• bu ‘ “s Mend seemed
Turned, but Tarried. * *&“ I £
Hope on, Hope Ever; After Dark
est Night, Comes, Pull of Lov
ing Life, the Laughing
Morning !
Upon the bank of the Hudson, not
macy miles above the city or N«w York,
was, twenty or more years ago, the lovely
and picturesque home of the Adaira.
The family mansion nestled amid a grove
of ancient oaks, and peered forth from
the leafy foliage like a white crowned
castle.
Bathed in summer sunshine, flooded
with mellow moonlight, or bound In
enowv fetters of the ice king, It seemed
equally attractive—a home formed fo,
love end happiness.
As the boats glided on the Hudson and
past the wooded heights of Tanglewood,
the tourist turned to gaze upon the beau
tiful landscape, until naught was visible
but the tall chimney pots, or the dark
gTeen foliage of the time-honored oaks
Hany gfzed wistfully, even enviously
-Pon the lovely spot, which nature and
&rt combined had so richly endowed.
The Adairs had possessed Tanglewood
for several gc Derations. Father and son*
nad reigned successively. Proud of their
birth ;perhaps too proud), yet they were
high toned, chivalric gentlemen and
lavish of their abundance. The ladies
were gentlewomen, tt fined, modest,
beautiful and virtuous. Their price was
above rubies.
Though the sunlight gleamed so fair
over tbe Ivy-crowned walls, though the
moonbeams sparkled and danced over
the Hudson's placid bosom, though tbe
verdure was as green and the llawers
bloomed as luxuriantly In their gay pas
tures or among tbe wooded hills; thou »h
hearts beat enviously of the seeming
happiness of their neighbors’ lot, vet
over them a shadow had fallen.
“Hope 1b like the dawnii g of the morn-
.ug break;: g through toe mists of
right.”
Still this “fair enchantress” no longer
dwelt In the heurta of the Adairs. The
echo of childish voices was no longer
heard through their halls or the patter of
under feet upon their stairs.
Ellen Levin had been the bride of
Clarence Ac air a dec ace of years, ana
while they loved with a fond devotion,
no children bad been the fruits of their
happiness, it had become a subject too
tender for words. “Silence, the breath of
the unspoken,” had fallen upon them.
They loved each other no less, but Ellen
Adair felt a yearning for love of another
Kind, the fully realized the tt aliment of
one of her own sex:
If there be £ ugbt
BnrpaMdng hurnttu deed or tbouybi
It it a mother's love.”
Her husband, engaged in his affairs
and mingling dally with tbe busy world
had less tin.e for thought upon the sub
.ect which engrossed too touch of nis
wife’s less occupied time. Domestic in
her tastes, Ellen bad now almost wholly
withdrawn from tue society she was so
i'tied to sdi ra. Brooding secretly over
tubs misfortune, her health had become
impaired, acc she was something of an
Invalid.
A week of mild and lovely October
weather was but the hera.'d of approach
ing November storms. Tne wind and
ram char g. d the fair aspect of nature at
Tanglewood. The smooth green lawn
was now carpeted with leaves of amber
ted crimson, while more matured foliage
' ported here and there, Wearing a robe of
sombre biown.
Clarence Adair having been home
Dound for two or three days, left his wife
cue incrnlDg with a tender farewell. As
:.e pressed his Dps to hers he said: ‘ Ellen,
too shall not remain alone another day.
will bring you cheerlul company to
night.”
“Not tonight, Clarence. I am not as
well as usual. Wait until next week, and
then It shall be justas you wlsa.’-
-Very well, ; Hue woman; you shall be
obeyed. But remember, on Monday
some one must come.” And with an ado
td caress, and a light laugh as he pressed
her in his arms, he sprang Into me car
riage that was to convey him to the de
pot.
With the hist gleam of sunshine Ellen’s
depression vanished. She set herself a
task to beguile the weary hours until her
husband’s return. Busy at her work,
singing a few snatches of the songs of the
olden time, the hours dew unheeded.
Her canvas was half covered with gay
bowers, when she heard a footstep on the
graveled path beneath her window. In
another moment a man’s form was befere
her. JvaislDg his hand he signaled berto
approach, and Ellen folt that he desired
to meet her alone.
if he rte-ogn z-jd him immediately as an
tid retailer ot her father’s and felt that
Aiiek was the herald of some joy or ill,
piobabiy the latter; yet her heart was
lighter than us oat when she stole quietly
forth to usher him in at the side en
trance.
Hit lace was busted, his manner llur-
something so uauuual that Mrs.
Acair asked: “ iVhat is it, Alichf”
Kcr answer he sat upon a table a large
' atket he was carefully handling, and
placing his finger on Ms lips to denote
silence, he beckoned her towards him.
An awe stole over Ellen Adair as tbe
old man lifted the lid of tne basket to ex
pote He mysterious contents.
The rote hue which excitement had
t-roogUt to ter cheeks; faded to pearly
v.hitenese as she looked within. N-at*
:op between blankets of the softest tex
ie.e reposed a lovely baby girl. Sne lay
n slimber so profound that ntr gentle
biealhli.g alone proclaimed she lived.
Eilen had no veice to speak; she only
.uokedat Aiiek in sileDt dismay, her
eager, questioning eyes, bidding him
break the spell. . . .
-Don't faint, Miss Ellen; sit down the
little one will sleep a long time yet. 1 Will
tell you all about her. ’
Mrs. Adair could not take her eyes from
the sweet baby's face. Sue drew up a
chair and sana down by her sice. Go
on, Aiiek.’’she said, nervously; "1 almost
fee! as if I heard the sigh of angel wings
and I had leceived a gift from H.-aveu
“i knew you would protc the mother
tbeiiUie iamb needed, Miss E.len. I
thought of you the moment my eyes fe.t
upon her.”
E.len moved her hand for him to pro
teed, and he went on.
"A ship went to pieces cn Rockaway
Beach during this last storm. Many per
sons were lost, a boat or two reached the
1 core with ocxrvivors. it was my
fortune to be at hand when one of the
heats was borne in oa a huge oreaker. At
the bottom of her lay one lone woman
and clasped to her bosom was tins c-aic.
The cocr woman lay so btiii and white 1
'.bought she was no wore, but when i at
tempted to take the infant from her
-rms she opened her eyes and gave aiaiut
s ream. Sne was bat a frail body, a light
burden to a strongman. I soon conveyed
her to a cottage close by, and when some
jiquor had been given her and she was
piaced in a warm bed, 1 hoped she would
revive. The little one seemed strong ana
t .goroas enough. Dry clothes and warm
milk sent her into sound slumber.
The woman clung to the chib-; no ecu .a
not keep it attay torn htr, but he soon
saw she was sinking rapid y. All htr
care seemed for the baby. She beckoned
roe to her side and, pointing to the little
one, asked: ‘ What can ycu do lor her?
“I mentioned you, telling her of your
kind-heartedness and ability to yrivo a
mother to her babe.” ,, ... _
“Not mine,” she said, huriitd.y; 1 am
bat a poor woman, only its nurse. Ain
the poor mother will never see her dar
ling again now.” Then she was so dis
tressed that she went off Into a faint.
•She did not revive for hours, but after-
w aids she struggled to apeaK many times.
Only once could I understand her fee me
efforts. She whispered: “Her name la
Hope—Hope Leslie. Her mother^ one
cf the nob.est women who ever Lvea .
Take care of her little darling.’ Bhe
spoke no moie. As soon as 1 could 1
had the child put back Into her own soft
clothing, and purchased theso blankets
because 1 knew you would wish it.’
“Tnen you really cannot tell me any
more about her,” asked Mrs. Adair, with
apparent concern. . . . .
“Very little,” answered Alick, “I had
nearly forgotten one circumstance;” and
ne fumbled Into his pocket, finally pro
ducing a small locket of golden filagree.
“Tuis may be of s-.rvice 10 ycu some day,
Miss Ellen.” ,,
As Aiiek spoke he opened the little
case. “ We found this tlgntly clasped in
the dead woman’s hand, extricating It
with difficulty, as if in death she still
•*t beside a cheerful fire in her boudoir I you the lovely haunts around Tangle-
WKb the tender babe upon her lap. The I wood Why do yon reside in a city,
little one had opened her dark eyee and I when nature is so much more attractive
i"**. U P i°to Ellen’s face, as if she | in the country? I cannot breathe in
crowded thoioughfares; I long for the
pore air of heaven, as it rushes down our
wooded heights ”
“I am fond of the oountry, too, Karl,”
replied Leslie, with something of sadness
in his voice. “I am sure my mother is,
too; but of late years s re prefers the city
from a secret reason. I am content where
she is ”
There was a tinge of melancholy about
Leslie whenever be spoke of his mother.
Some trouble appeared to hang over her.
Karl could not question, ana his friend
never proffered a solution of the mys
tery.
It was decided that the young friends
should not be separated during their
college career. Mrs. Siuart seemed will
ing to abide by Mrs. Adair's choice for
Karl. She felt it would contribute to
Leslie’s happiness, and for herseli she
cared not.
Another twelvemonth, then the yonng
freshmen started for home. Leslie
rushed to New York to visit ills mother
for one week; then h6 joined Karl at Tan
glewood.
Tanglewood proved to be ail his fancy
had ever pictured. Then, Mrs. Adair was
almost ns lovely as his own mother, and
sweet Hope was the sister of his dreams —
the sister that nature had denied him.
Fjr several days the young men roamed
the woods with gun and d <gs. or fiihed
In the streams that ran like a ripple of
silver town the wooded slopes. Then
Leslie seemed to weary of the sport, and
preferred to ride or drive with Hope, or
sit at her feet at tne end of the terrace,
with book or pencil, to read, or skttch, as
suited ner fancy.
Karl loved nis friend, but his love for
his sister was so great that he was jeal
ous of the devotion of Leslie. It pained
him to feel that any other love coaid
come between his and Hope's.
No human eye is as wa chfulaaamoth
er a. Mrs. Adair understood K tri better
than he did himself. The first tears she
had shed in many years were caused by
this sorrow ot tier ton’s. Still, L slie
Stuart’s visit would soon be over. E ven
if his heart had been touched ay the love
tineas of Hope, the young girl seemed
unconscious of the affection she had
awakened; no love dawned in her yonng
heart, except for her dear Karl. Tue
orother of adoption was as dear to her as
though united by ties of consanguinity,
and each was ucsconsclous that they
were other than they seemed.
L.she’s visit oeing over, he knew that
life has changed ter him. Hope Adair
was the future guiding star of nln career.
He was K iri s chosen trie lit'; Hope was
young. Ho did not douos mat no had
awakened emotions that wou d bloom
into fond devotion when he came to woo
at the proper time.
Karl s life was soon to undergo a still
greater change. He had scarcely return
cd to college when he became subj ected
to an orcezi that was to rend his heart
and arouse passions that he had not
known to be slumbering. The Jamison
estate a< j lined langlehood. Mrs. Adair
nad oeen a friend ul' Lucius J .unison's
mother at tbe time ot little Hope’s ad
vent in her home circle Facts that
seem forgotten are often brought to
light; and young Jamison, entering col
lego Hi the beginning of the next term,
soon introduced the subject to Karl and
in this manner:
A party of iclsyoung fellows had been
questioning Lialle Stuart on his visit to
Tanglewood. Tneir frequent mention of
Hope Adair, and Leslie s confusion, had
caused Lucius Jamison to consider tne
yonng man weakiu that quarter. When
•lone with K irl he mentioned it to him,
adding: “Knowing that she was only
yonr sister oy adoption, I have ever felt
sn/e that sue was destined for yonr
wl.’e.” He had not looked at Karl; no—
the dismay upon hia lace was not visi
ble.
A thousand thonghta flashed through
Karl’s mind in one moment, thoughts
tnat caused him to feel, as well as nope,
that JamiBon bad spoken truthfully. He
could not speak He arose and left tbe
room so abruptly that J .unison feared ne
had angered him or touched a chord that
had best have been left unstrung.
Two hours later, as K irl passed by
Jamison going to class, be paused long
enough to say:
‘ Lucius, one future friendship must
depend ou y >u: Lever speaking on that
subject again to any one, uultss I volun
tarily grant you permission. For my
mother s tare, 1 make this rtqceit.”
Grantee, dear olu fellow, i assure
you, l Intended no raden ss to sweet Miss
Hope; and for Mrs. Adair 1 would promise
auytnmg. I owe my poor life to uercaro
of nie in scar.et lever.”
Karl nad been given food for though!;
he pondered ou Lucias J .unison’s sudden
revelation, aud felt that it b re some
semulaacs of truth. Ha rua izod lor the
first time how little difference there was
in his and Hope’s agtyes, she was his
senior—scmcoiy a year Between tneiu!
He was so tall ne had never d.-emedii
pjosioie, but now as ne awelt oa all he
had learned, he knew that the disparity
was ou his side Karl made vain efforts
to concentrate his thoughts on his studios
for many days, lli-: mind became calmer
at last and ne resolved to wait patiently
until CnriBtmas, wnen ho would learn
iUe truth from his mother’s iipo—.ipe
that never nad spoken talseiy.
Christm&stide found him again at
horn j—this time alone. Ho Could not aeK
Lcsiio to Tanglewood agaia until
realized that her lines had fallen in
pleasant places. The perils of the sea
had been exet anged for the peaceful
solitude of Tanglewood. The cotter’s
home and the cotter's wife had been ex
changed for a home of luxury and the
tender solicitude of an anxious mother,
if an adopted one. Though seemingly
thrust upon EUen Adair, she was not an
an welcome guest; and as E len gazed into
her wistfnl eyes she believed that she
could have loved her no more if she had
been her own by tics of blood. A soft
wail from the l.ttle girl, and the newly-
made mother remembered that she must
be hungry. The tempting milk was near
at hand, and in a le n moments the little
Hope had sunk again to sleep.
Even then she would not remove her
from her lap, never seeming to weary of
guzing into the sweet face or holding the
tiny pink fingers in her own. A careful
examination of the cn lid’s clothing re
vealed that the Lad been born in a home of
affluence; that the few months of her fife,
perhaps not numbering four, she had
been lovingly cared for and nurtured.
Everything about, her b .tokened a moth
er’s watchlu! eye; and Eden wondered If
the orlelna! of the face in tbe locket, the
elder Hope, could have miserably per
ished in sight of tbe beach at Bockaway.
The day glided away. Soon C.arence
would be at home. S .e did not doubt
that, for her sake, be would welcome the
little waif; yet, how could he keep from
loving any creature so pure and lovely,
and dependent. 'The baby slept, and E
len bad time to reveal the advent of tue
little stranger to all of her servants, re
lating no mure of the circumstances than
she deemed essential, and urging them
not to gossip on ihe But ject. Tneir won
der had nearly died away when the hour
arrived for Mr. Adair’s return.
Ellen did not neglect her dinner toilette,
for her husband’s pteasnre|she now de
sired to appear as lovely as she had been
long years ago. She was feeliDg nervous,
but excitement had brought a wave of
co or to her cheeks, and ber weariness of
tbe eariy day bad deparit d. Sne seemed
all life and vivacity.
The sodden whistle of tbe engine warn
ed her that, fifteen minutes more of wait
ing, and she would be facs to face with
ber husband. She had gone over in her
mind all she would say, but It vanished
fiom her memory tbe moment he took
hi-r in nis arms aid kissed her.
Turning her fa.ee op to the light, he
exclaimed: “Why, Ellis dear, what has
transformed you? I left yon a pale and
droopiDg illy, and find you a blooming,
blushing rote! ’
Her ready speech and woman’s tact had
deserted her. She could only exclaim:
“O..! dear husband! ’ and her head sank
on his shoulder and she burst into tears
He knew they must be tears of happt
nets, for she not only looked to bis eyes
as the Ellen Levin of years ago, but her
evening dress was more elaborate than
usual when they wore to be alone.
“Why do you weep, darling?” he asked,
as he drew her in.o the well lit drawing
room. "You looked so bright but a min
ute ago, tt is can be but an April shower;
yes, I see the sun begins to shine,” for
Ellen had raised her hsad and smiled.
She tbrew her arms about his neck as
she replied:
• Yes, 1 am happy; God has sent us
little Hope.”
Not at all understanding her, Clarence
suff ered her to conduct him to her bou
doir, where they usually spent a few mo
ments before dinner. He was content to
see ber so much like her former self. He
followed her until she paused beside 1
couch; then she looked up Into his ex
pectant eyes and said feelingly: “Will
yon love her the leas bscause she is not
onr very own! ’
She polled aside the lace drapery, and
there ley the tiny blossom, pore as a
snowdrop, pink as a freshly opened tea
rose.
Ellen smiled up into her husband’s eyes,
reading his surprise, knowing that she
had been abrupt, and he bad everything
yet to learn Softly she said: “This is
indeed our little Hope; God has been very
good to us. She comes to us already
named—some good is in store for us. I
feel that in taking care of this little stran
gerl am entertaining an angel unawares.
“Sit down, Clareuce, just here where
you can see her, and let me tell you her
story. It Is all too Bad ”
During the next hour Ellen’s soft tones
filled the room and her husband was put
in possession of all the facts related by
A'lck. The dinner bell bad sounded
twice before they were aiouted from the
little reverie into which each had fallen
She did not quite understand his silence
ery soon he bent his head and kissed
ner, saying: “You have done exactly
right, Ellle. The impulses of your pure
heart can never lead you astray. I trust
our little Hope will gladden our declin
ing years. I am truly happy, If you are;
you are my blooming bride once again.”
“I am so pleased, Clarence, that you
feel in this way. You will soon love the
child for her own sake. Her pleading
eyes will enslave you as they have me.”
“There is no hour that has not its
biiths of gladness and despair.” The
morning wnich had dawned in clouds for
Ellen Adair had ended in joy and snn
saine. She pondered mucu on the child
when her hu-.band had left her on the
following day. “Hope—Hope L-slle.”
Was that really the child's name! Did not
some other also belongto fieri The locket
Be prudent; she must not learn her true
history except through me—end yon
have promised silence.
Than softly she quoted, as her hand
rested gently on Ksri sheed:
Tamper not with idle rumor, lest the truth
appear to lie: ....
Carve thy Up «o hilted silence—wrong shall fail
ou it aud die.
Unconscious of the secret that Karl
had l arnf d, Hope could not comprehend
bis strang > manner; towards her he was
certainly changed. Something weighed
upon his triad; something, she feared,
he wished to conceal. She watched him
furtively, andofttimessue found his eyes
fix d npon her. When aroused from bis
abstraction he would color painfully aud
appear greatly confused He no longer
came to her wit 2 his little joys and sor
rowf; bat Hope tbought “it is became he
is a man; he has put away childish
things ” S .ill this change In her brother
annoyed her.
One morning when she found him in
the library alone she eat down on a stool
at his feet, and, liMug her soft eyes to
his, said: “Dear Kiri, you have a secret
from your little siBter, »nd you are un
happy. You are not as fond of your lit
tie Hope as you used to be.”
“My darling Hope, I am growing fon
der of you all the while. Youareiikea
budding roee, becoming dally more beau
tiful; I am ever fearing some one will
steal you away from us—from me. Others
will learn to admire you as well as my
self. There Is Leslie Stuart.”!
Hope placed her hand over his mouth,
laughing as she exclaimed: “My brother
is j»-aloasof his be*t friend. Mr. Stuart
is a fine fellow, Karl, but let me tell you
be particularly deslrao me to become ee
q wanted with yourself end your lovely
daughter, to whom be seems greatly at
tached. Though leading an Isolated life
in the heart ofa great city, I am cf * no
ols family. My native country is Eng
land. I was unfortunate In having an
Infant girl torn from my arms and borue
away across tno seas many years aqo.
My husband perished, and I have no rua
son to think my chi d survived. 1 he
name of your daughter, is my own maid
en name. My little glr, would lu-ve
borne tbe same had she lived. 1 feel an
ardent desire to see my namesake, aud
trust she will regard my sun in tbe llyht
of a lover and give him the opportnrity
he seeks to address ber. A conversation
in this important su‘j -ct can be com in
ned When we meet. With regtria to M .
and Miss Aaair, Yours in friendship.
Hote Leslie Stuart ”
Mrs. A lair’s heart lost its buoyancy.
Hope might be, probabiv was, Mrs.
Stuart’s child; but she could not, would
not, part from her! It wo aid be like sev
ering a heartstring.
Wnen Hjpe was sound asleep the
mother, father and son met la solemn
conclave, and Mrs. Stuart’s letter and her
claims to Hope were freely discussed.
Kiri felt that a cii-is had arrived in his
ufe. The present hour was the season
for the revelation of his affection for
Hope. It did not surprise hi 1 mother.
After mature deliberation it se m d oest
tor K iri to bear the i -tel i^enco to Hope.
He did not deem it necessary to plead uls
came until sue had mat Mrs. Smart. He
felt she would be true to the promise she
nad formerly made him.
Hope bore Karl s reoltal very quietly.
She neither laughed nor cried, or up
Those Wedding Bells.
SOMETIMES MUFFLED BY SORROW,
OFTENER CLANGING WITH JOY.
A Congressman'* Daughter United to
Her Dying Lover—Two Notable Events
in New York—Interesting Chicago Mar
riages of Decent Date.
a secret, he cannot compare with you. If ^Vwsy exciud Sue knVw
you were not my bother I would not I have to be
you were not my
hesitate to ctoise between you. I shall
never love or care for any one as I love
my brother K iri. You will not be able
to rid yourself of me for these many
years. I shall remain an incubas, like
the ‘0!d Man of the 3ea.’ ”
K irl’s face had {.c eeptibly brightened
as she spoke, and at her closing words he
passed his arm aronnd her, saying: “If
this is indeed so. dear Hope, then I atn
happy again. Now we will make a com
pact— a binning one, re nember; we will
seal it aitfi this ri g. You have always
admirid it aud wished me to give It to
you. I intended it for my wife; bat we
won’t speak of tbat now,” said Kiri, con
fueedly. “1 shali promise you nut to care
for any girl as much as I care tor you,
Hope, or even to tpeak a word of love to
one without consulting you; and you, In
return, must bind yourself tc the same.
Your first thought of love for another
mast b .• revealed to me, and you must re
fase to listen to tbe protestations cf oth
ers till you consult your faithful Kiri.”
Hope suffered him to place tbe ring on
her finger. She laughed heart! ly, saying:
that many events would have to be
proved before her real identity v;as
ustaolished.
In the mean time, dear Hope, you
have tbe same faitbful hearts to it an
MR. HAUGHWOCT HOWE.
Notable weddings have taken plao
on,” sail Kiri, “and always will have If recently in three great cities of the
you decide to remain with us. You will
nave two mothers and one brother also—
and your own devotee K irl.”
“Was ever girl so blessed! Two
mothers and two brotheia!” responded
Hope, ingenuously.
“No, Hope; only one brother. I am
sure 1 am hot yonr brothei; Leslie may
be.” He said no more, but, taking up
her hand, laid his lips on t*e finder
which bore his ring.
Hope colored, and for tho first time
seemed to read Karl’s heart aright
Tue following day brouguo L:slie
Stuart aud nis mother. Tue uaeting was
a little painful. Mrs. Stuart tookH-'pe
to her heart and aissed her fondly, say
ing: “Tuie is my namesake.” Tnen sue
gave way to tears, overcome with bitter
memui.t ; and for a few annates every
heart was sad.
She ciung to Hope with as much aflec-
“ f, _ j ’ . 0 I SQj CAUQfiT LU n.Ope WlLu m IiiUGli all oh -
Den as If sue wa3 in reality her child, if
with their siste.s. \ on seem so mudiin I uurs by lies ot nature, she trusted to
earnest, Karl, 1 fanoy yon Will not plead I , w « n htr for his wife
your firsl love sult wlta more ardor. It [ Ml . 3 _ stuart had rela.ed her story
is just like a betrothal.
Kiri bits red. Was he taking an ad
vantage of this sweet, oOLfidiug child?
He hoptd not, but he would not retract.
He clasped ber band in bis as he replied:
“It is just as binding; and If Leslie ever
breathes a word of love to yon, you must
request him to speak first to me."
-I shall never give hi m a chance, now
that 1 know the penalty, and indeed,
Karl, I do not wish Leslie Stuart, or any
other young man to seek to beguile me
from my loved Tanglewood and you:
dear selves.”
K irl aissed ber with more fervor than
he nad permitted himself to do since his
return home, and looiirg intently at the
hand on which he had placed the ring,
he touched hia iipB to her finger tips,
saying:
Trust me uet at all, or ail iu all
Karl returned to college with a much
lighter heart. He felt F{iw that he ceu;d
meet Leslie without jealousy. Only one
thought tortured hlm. t If Hopo cou d
have known that he was not her brother
he would have no fears. Hid she net
said voluntarily that Stuart did not com
iare favorably with himseif? How would
t all end? Tue day must come when he
couid no longer be silent. No one should
woo Hope without her understanding his
claim ou ber heart.
Ti;e end was nearer than he believed.
Leslie returned with j. violent cold; it
gradually grew worse, until he was forced
to seek rut dicai aid, Karl was hourly at
nis bedside. Soon it became necessary
to summon Mrs. Stuart. Kar! was alone
with Leslie when his mother arrived.
Sue seemed to forget that she was not
through her letter. Before she retir.u
Mrs. Adair took the locket and Hope’s
baby clothes to her room, and the two
mntners wept in each others' arms—M.s.
Stuart, because sho recognized her own
needle work and her own gi iish features,
and from the fact that Hope was ledied
her own—restored to her after twenty
years of weary waitlDg; Mrs. Auatr, be
cause her beloved girl, whom she had so
tenderly raised, whose heart had been
ail ner own, must now snare her aifec
cions with others. It perhaps was selfish,
but It was not unnatural.
Ere the buu had peered through Hope s
windows and penetrated into her sleep
ing apartment, Mrs. Adair knelt oesiue
ner b.d acd te&rlully unfolded the hls
tery of her mother’s wrongs.
■ You wore torn from her arms at four
months old aua borue oil' to America to be
piaced wltn your father s lamily. A lust
retribution overtook your unnatural pi
rent, dear Hope, aud now you are,
through Gods care, restored to your
mother. 1 can never love youiess,aud it
will break my heart, darting, to part
from you.”
Fart from yon, dear miimul'’ and
Hope threw her arms around her
mother's neck. “I cannot, I will not,
leave my fatner and dear Kan!” She
blushed at the mention of his name,
Knowing he was no longer her brother.
“You ehali de.ldu lor yourself, my
dear. We will make a compromise o
some sort. Before breaklaet you cau
meet your mother alone in the library.
Tears wore in Hope’s ey es when Mrs
Stuart meet her an hour or two later.
Sue had much to relate to her long-loot
United States—Washington, New York
and Chicago. All save the one at Wash
ington displayed the outward signs of
hope and happiness. The exception was
that saddest tragedy of life—a deathbed
marriage.
It was to have been a society event at
the national capital—tile union of Mr.
Haughwout Howe and Miss Mary But
terworth, daughter of the well known
Ohio congressman. The two intended
going to the Friends' meeting house, and
had planned there to plight their troth
after the simple manner of the Quakers.
A thousand invitations to the subse
quent re caption were out, and gifts from
friends had begun to pour in upon the
beautiful young bride to be, when Mr.
Howe fell rick of acute rheumatism.
He was in the prime of life—scarce !!-
years of age—but the disease seized him
with a mortal grip and never relaxed
its hold. The day before he expired
Miss Butterwortli knelt by his bed.
placed her hand in his, and bowed as
sent between ln-r sobs to the questions
of the preacher who made tile sorrow
ful couple one flesh. The sick man
whispered:
“Mary, you are a brave girl.”
Then he relapsed into delirium. His
wife took her rightful place at his side
DID DDOJIOU IU IUIKVI, burn. DUO WHO UUI I — . _ II ho i L...I
alone with her son, and fell upon his j dzughter, and after Hope had heatd er
null onr) nront hit.tarlo ‘ (ihl mo Hnr- I HtOTV she felt mUCh drawn towards hfcf.
neck and wept bitterly. ‘ Oh! my dar
ling,” sbe exclaimed, “why did I ever
send yon from me! You are my ail.
Yonr education is nothing in compari
son with yonr true value to your lone
mother. Leslie, my boy, are you really
lilt”
Karl extended his hand across the bed
and touched her. ‘ D&fcV Mrs Stuart,
compose yourself. I atn Karl Adair.
story sbe felt
Just as the bell sounded for oreaxfast
Leslie knocked on the door, then hastily
entered and came towards Hope. He
took her in his arms and kissed her ten
derly, saying:
“1 could not deny myselT this happi
n , s longer. 1 thought mother had fer-
goften ma. Dear Hope, are yon indeed
my siBter? I love yon fondly, aud h*d
bore nothing but the Christian name of I teS ret of Hope’s blrtu was revealed to
her perhaps who was the young mother
it seem-, d scarcely probable that more
light would ever be thrown npon the
cuiid's biith. Was It not just as weliT
Sue would be more firmly bound to the
p.’.rsnts of her adoption; she need never
know that she was other than Hope
Leslie Adair
Six months of great happiness passed at
Tanglewood. Eiien felt that God had
peculiarly blessed her. Sue had a secret
joy that was unknown to many. Her
aealth was perfect, and six months after
little Hope’s advent a baby boy was bora
to her and Clarence, a beautiful htir to
Tanglewood. Ellen’s joy was complete.
Her ftrvent prayers were answuri-d, and,
not uaflke Hannah, she wou.d have deal
cited her little Samaei to tue Lord if she
could have derided for herself. He grew
aud thrived, and became a strong, sial
wart boy, overtopping Hope by an inch
or two when he was ten years of age.
E len felt as much tenderness for Hope
as she did for her bry Ktrl. If she re
membsred that her little girl was not
bound to her by ties of consanguinity,
nearly ail of her friends aud neighbors
•-.acl foigstten it; and Hope was left in
iguora-.ee, though she was ever iu dang- r
of a rude awakening. No matter how
fondly cherished, or protected oy coafid
iDg love, a ruthless hand ofiea shatters
the hop s on which we have for ages
buiit; and EUen Adair often wondered if
it would not be so with this sweet child
of her adoption. Wisely, she refrained
/xom ever meutioainsf.^* feeling this was
the surest way to repair any evil. A Mine
might come when she would desire Hope
to learn the truth, but that knowledge
must be imparted by her own lips.
Tne children grew up almost like twin
cherries They were so nearly the same
age but Karl, being so much teUer, was
ever considered the elder. He was devot
ed to Hope, and, unlike most brothers,
was his sister’s champion in all cases in
dispute.
It was a bitter parting when Karl was
sent ofl to school. He could not under
stand why he could not share his sister s
governess and tutors.
“Our deeds determine us as much as
we determiue onr deeds,” said that fa
mous writer, George E.iot; and Karl had
resolved to make a noble and great man
of himself— more to gratify his sweet
sister than from his lunate love of study.
His schoolboy days were rapidly passing;
soon hts career at college was to begin.
Ha was entering his seventeeth year,
when ha formed a friendship with L slie
Rtimrt. a yonng man three years his
senior *nd with tbe advantage of half a
dozen years in worldly experience. In
other respects they were well matched,
both high-toned, honorable yonng fel
lows, scorning an ignoble action, equally
him. Was tuere anything dark aud mys
tenons iu that sweet girl's life? Fur the
first time he metU^pe with sue a appa
rent confue.ou that his mother sa y that,
somethi.'g was amiss.
As a huy he hud loved an hour alone
witn his mo.iier before h!s fathers
return to dinner. 1 Fortune lavored him
on the first evening of his arrival. Tne
moment he entereu Mrs. Adair’s presence
ue extend-d her arms to him, and the
next minute his head was resting on ner
tom.
You have some trouble, K.irl, and you
have u.me as ot yore to lay your bur.ie,,
on your mothers heart. aUe is ever
ready 10 offer her sympathy.”
You are always correct ia your sur
mises, mamma, bioc^ i s.tw you last l
nave learned that X have no sister.”
Mrs Adair pa ed. Her cheeks agalu
rivaled the lily ia whrtsness. Ktrisaw
it, but audec::
‘II X have no sister, dear mother, who
is Hope?”
You have not mentioned this to
H -pt? asked Ins molner, ntrvousiy.
Karl answered her by a negative toss
of Ms head; and Mrs. Adair coutlnu.d:
“Aud you wifi not—promise me this
mucu, K-ri.”
“ita-.e not, nor ever will, dear mamma,
unless It should iu some way iuvo.ve her
happiness; dee X coaid not keep silent.”
“Her happiness lies at the depths of
ail of our ueart-; her sorrow would be
ours, dear boy. N j wave of trouble coaid
ever touch our dear Hope without threat
ening to tngulf ail of us.”
“I am sure ot that, mother; and now,
tell me all you will permit me to know.”
At nis mother’s feet, one arm resting
on ber lap, with his fije eyes on her
glowing face, he listened to tne short
episode; and then, while teats welled
into his eyes, he said:
“And this Is all yon have learned of onr
darling? Yon have the mother’s picLure
yet; may I De permitted to see it?”
“Mts Adair took the locket from a
small drawer iu her cabinet, and after
K*rl had examined it, she produced the
clothing worn by Hope when brought to
Tanglewood, Ercu tiny garment was of
the finest ttxlure, but now yellow with
age and almost falling to decay.
Karl was silent for some time. Some
emotion seem-.d struggling for mastery.
Finally he said:
“I have never before questioned your
wisdom; but, dear mother, ought not
Hope to have been told of this years ago?
la concealment ever prudent or right?
Forgive me if 1 wouud you; out this may
involve others besides Hope.”
“We will trust for the best, Kiri. ‘All
things work together for good to those
who love and trust God.’ Hope has no
danger we will not share or try to avert.
Leslie is quite sick, but he only needs I hoped to bind you to me by even a nearer
- - - - - - - 1 tie—I will not say a dearer one; and now,
sweet sister, when can you go home with
us?”
“Home! O Leslie! how can I leave
these dear ones? I am bound to tbem by
everything except ties of blood. Give
me time to think of it.”
“O Hope, 1 fear we have found you
bnt to lose you again! Our happiness
will, after all, be ciouded,” respond.d
Leslie, with emotion.
‘•S :rro.v may reign for a night; j >y
shall be ours, Leslie,” said H-jpe, tear
fully, and trying to ignore histrnemean-
ing.
‘ I could not help loving this other dear
mother, and you, too, my brother.”
Mis. Adair summoced them to the ta
ble, and endeavored to have a cheeri ul
meal. LieBlie seemed a little disturbed,
and Kari was pale with emotions he
strove to rspress.
Hope noted the pallor on his cheeks,
and smiled as she met his eyes. She frit
that he desirtd a moment alone with her;
and aTer breakfast she gave him the op
portunity while she called her flowers.
Selecting a pretty bud, she placed it on
his coat. His eyes revealed his loving
thoughts. He held her basket as she
clipped her roses.
‘•Hope,” he said, ia a voice full of fer
vor,” every one has had a word with you
today but myseir. If I am the last, I trust
X am not the least. Tell me, Hope, do
you leave us?”
‘•It stall be j ist as you decide, Karl. If
you bid me remain, ‘your people snail be
my people,’ as surely as ‘your God is my
God.’ ”
Darling, stay! give me a betroth d
lover’s right. P.oinise to be my wife,
Hope. Love me as i love yon, and you
need have no fear.”
“Kari, I have ever loved yon, more,
think, as a lover than as a brother. D id
I not tell you long ago that you were my
ideal? Leslie shall be my brother. I have
never cared for him as other; but Karl”—
Hope paused.
K :ri nndsrstood her. He drew nearer
*o her. “Yon think, as X do, Hope, that
God made us for each other! You shall
be my faithful wife. No < arthly arm can
divide us now. Love Mrs. Stuart and
Leslie as much as you wish. It will bc>
your duty to divide yonr time with them,
till X can take you icr mi .e own. Then,
dear one, you must return to Tangle
wood, and we will resume life together
iu the sweet home we love so well. Yet!
Hope, then you will
; rour motherly care to bring him aronnd.
le has neglected himself, bnt now yon
have come he will Boon recover.”
Sue brightened at Karl’s reassuring
words. A smile wreathed her pleasant
face as she said:
Yon are a real comforter. I shall soon
love yon as much as Leslie does!
Kari han watched ber closely. Whom
did she resemble? Surely he had some
where seen a face Uke hers—younger,,
perhaps fairer, but the likeness to some
one was apparent. It tormented him
every hour that be was absent from his
friend's room, and when present he
found himseif constantly gazing at Mrs.
Stuart, and pondering on her singular
likeness to some one he knew, or thought
he kne w.
Leslie soon began to recover, and dur
irg his coavalencencs coEfifences begat
confidences. Wntle speaking of Tangle
wood and its loveliness, Leslie said:
‘ K iri, if you have a picture of yonr
sister permit my mother to s;e it.”
Toe next moment Mrs. Stuart had
Hope's picture In her hand. Under the
sweet features was her name “Hope
L.s ie Adair.”
The gentle lady's face paled as she
peruB.d the name. Turning to Ktrl, she
said:
“You are not at all like your sister, Mr.
Adair, is Leslie a family name of
yours?”
“Leslie?” exclaimed her s in. “Is Miss
Hope named Leslie? Why, mamma,
your name was Hope Leslie—how singu
lar.
Mrs. Stuart was agitated, but she had
long sinue learned to snbdue herself.
Soitiy sue said: “There is nothing in a
name. There are mat y ‘Hops Lislie’s’
In the world.”
Krrl, too, was singu ariy excited. Mrs.
Stu. r 3 identity wltn tne sweet face in
tbe iutle filagree locket was revealed to
himiuafiz3h. So like, yet unlike! One
fair, bright and lau .hiug; the other, fair
bat ftdod, subdued and silent. Karl
stood alone. He couid take no action iu
this matter, so fu .l of vital import to Mr-).
Smart aud his own parents. He knew
so little that he did not dare reveal any
thing without the latter’s knowledge.
Thoughts crowded into his mind, bui he
was prompt to respond to Mrs. Stuart’s
question.
‘No, madam; Leslie is not a family
name. It is a pretty nam«, and may
have boon bestowed upon Hope as a
fancy ”
“Tiuj,” replied Mrs. Stuart, as if speak-
ing to herself. “Why should I grasp
every frail hope? L <ng since I Should
have learned there could be none for me!
Excaue my soliloquy, Mr. Adair, but I
lost a baby girl under singular circum
stances, aud though 1 have not the shad
ow of a claim to think she lives, I have
ever been haunted with the hope. The
names are but a coincidence. Some day
you will bring your sister to visit me?”
You must come with Leslie to Tangle
wood. You will ne cordially welcomed.
1 shall Claim you at Easter.”
During the hours that Kxrl relieved
Mrs. Stuart at L -slie’s bedside he wrote
long letters to his mother, letters that
were almost chapters in themselves of
the volume he was pouring out 10 her.
Tnere was so much to relate, so much for
her to reply to, and for him, again, to re
gpond to; and Anally, when all was told,
Mrs. Adair, still unconvinced, resolved
to withhold all from Hope and wait pa
tiently nntil Easter, when Mrs. Smart
had promised her son she would accom
pany him to Tanglewood. She read
L .-she's heart aright,and knew that H jpe
Adair was the anchor which held It.
Karl wrote of ten to Hope. His letters
were more love-like than fraternal, and
tne yonng girl made him an ideal and
often thought no man could comp *re
with her loved brother. No other would
ever hold her in such high esteem.
And now the days glided by. Easter
came on rapid wing, and with the happy
season Kiri returned. His friends, tne
Smarts, would fellow hiia in a few days.
B.fore Mrs. dinart arrived, a letter came
to Mrs. Adair which filled her heart with
gr “DBAR r MRs. Adair: In accepting
your cordial invitation to visit yon, I am
deviating from a resolution formed years
ago to go nowhere, or visit noone. My
2£J U now a young man.. Hie heart
yeaiMB for youthful companionship end
Co -r.e home—
Come to tbe hearts that love thee; to the eyes
That beam in riaduess but to gladdeu thine '
Come where tend thoughts like holiest iueeuse
rise,
Where cherish'd memory rears her ttltat's shri'.ie,
Dearest, come home.”.
Daisy Deaxe.
How Itouiuu Caudles Are Made.
Every one knows what a Roman candle
is, but feu- know how this Lr ’.ispensable
adjunct of u Fourth of July celebration is
made. First of tdl in the making comes
the pasteboard cylinder, which is plugged
up at one end with clay. After the clay
comes a small charge of |*jwder; then a
“star” is pushed tight down ou the pow
der, and charges of powder and “stars” al
ternate until the cylinder is tilled. Then a
fuse is attached which communicates with
the powder nearest the top of the cylinder,
which, when it is exploded, sends its
“star” sailing upward. A fuse running
through tee caudle connects the other
charger, cf powder with the first and ex
plodes them one at a lime, each one shoot
ing out the star which is next above it.
The stars arc mode of chemical mixtures
which vary with tho colors which are pro
duced. A red star is sometimes made by
mixing four parts of dry nitrate of strontia
and fifteen parts of pulverized gunpowder.
Copper filings change the color to green.
Rosin, salt aud a small quantity of amber
make it yellow. Small particles of zinc
change it to blue, and another and perhaps
better red can be made by using a mixture
of lamp black and niter.
Tbe white stars in the cheap “one ball
candies” are merely balls of cotton soaked
with benzine.—Edward Marshall in the
Tooth’s Companion.
MESS FRANK VANDERBILT CRAWFORD,
and ministered to him till he breathed
his la.-t. The end came within fifteen
minutes of the horn- originally set for the
quaint ceremony at the Quaker church.
Mr. Howe belonged to the family from
which sprang Elias Howe, the inventor
of the sewing machine. Ho owned a de
lightful place ,ut Sudbury, Mass., which
was formerly a tavern ami which figures
in Longfellow's poem “Tales of a Way-
ride Inn." His first wife was Miss Marie
Vandveke C'harlier, daughter of Profess
or Elie C'harlier, to whom he was united
in 1881 despite the bitter opposition ut the
bride's father. Mrs. Howe secured a di
vorce while a resident of North Carolina
in 18SS, on the grounds of desertion and
cruelty, and then wedded Mr. Frederick
Brown, a New York broker. Mr. Howe
was in the employ of the United ."states
government at the time of his death.
The New York marriages referred to
were solemnized iu the sunshine of joy
and not in the shadow of despair. The
principals to one of the contracts were
Mr. J. Frederick Talcott and Miss Frank
Vanderbilt Crawford. Both are yonng,
handsome and intellectually gifted. Mr.
Talcott recently finished the classical
course at Princeton, and his wife is an
art student of remarkable Client. Im
mediately after the ceremony, which
took place at the Church of the Stran
gers, the young couple sailed for Eng-
eynegogue, and was celebrated with ail
the rites of the orthodox Hebrew church.
Fanny Isaacs was the bride and Hyman
Cohen the groom. The guests blazed
with diamonds, and the parents of the
young couple vied with each other in
loading down the “children” with gifts.
Aftei the ceremony Isitacs pere gave an
entertainment at Webster hall which
cost $1,000. The champagne was excel
lent, and Abe Freidel added to the en
thusiasm of the occasion by leading
Mary Isaacs to the middle of the floor
ft.
MISS ALBERTIXE HOCK,
and announcing their engagement. The
gifts to Mr. and Mrs. Cohen included a
gorgeously fitted saloon on the East Side
and $10,000 in cash.
Everybody knows tiiat Marshall Field
is one of the millionaire merchants of
Chicago. He has a son who is the pride
of his heart, and whose name is Marshall
Field, Jr. Two years ago young Field
met on an ontward bound steamer a
beautiful Chicago maiden, still in her
teens. Miss Albertine Hack. They fell
love and became engaged. The par
ents had no objection to the match, but
they feared it was only a “boy and girl
affair,” and made the yonng folks wait.
They proved their sincerity by tii-ir con
stancy, and the other day joined : >rt-
•s for life amid the congrutul.v i ri.- ;
a host of friends. Now they have-zona
abroad, and will spend a year in travel.
Lorado Taft is well known in the west
as a sculptor of merit. Recently 1 took
to wife Miss Carrie Louise Scale-, of
Evanston, Ills. The bride ap;s-are*d at
the ceremony attired in a plain ID unier
own of cream satin and point lac.-, with
higli waist and a Watteau plait,
quet of white roses completed !i
The parlor was tastefully decora
wilrl and hothouse flowers. Ti
received many valuable gifts,
which were several checks of 1
nominations sent by eastern r
The mother of the bride r
ch;t.
'ri
MR. AND MRS. TA!--
1 the residence at whi
rnony was performed as a pr
newlv married couple.
‘The kin
;he title 1
man now it
His latest e
ment, if in
the sensibilitie
Englislm
tuted authorit
all dignity am
the other day
the lord mayo
Reginald Han
trate of Loud
geons affair. 1
trappings of b
purchaser togy
the livery affec
men, and al
through the ci
ed a great stir
nant at what
taken with tin
trates ami cha
the aldermen
while the res
amused.
London (ri
alwav; talfei
now at 80 ye
and alert as
ped with b;
every precar
During the v
temperature
without liar;
required lie;
mapped out
ing. recreati
meals are sti;
tion.
:.m Gets a Shock.
laugh mak;-r of the
which an America,
a .<how-
.ondull advertised .
loit has created a
stonish-
amusement, and
sh.x-ked
?s of those staid an
ul sober
•vliu believe that
tv " should be treat
ed with
d respect. It seems that
the laugh maker
'.siught
r’s coach beiongin;
g to Sir
sun. who was chief
Illilgis*
on in l s 8f>. it is
:l gor-
with gold triuimin
gs and
irilliaut hue. The
Yankee
ted out some employes in
cted bv his lordshi;
>\s foot-
ttended by them
ilrova
tv. His “progress
" creat-
. Tlie officials are
indig-
they regard as a
libertjr
e chief of the civic
magis-
irmanof thataugm
't body*
of tbe city of i
v>ndon.
?t of the town is
highly
1 View of Dr, llcln;
1 t
,Vended Holmes, s;
*ys Tbe
lie, is bent on being
:t ccnte-
illows a strict reg
irnen to
ie desired object.
He aa£
great care of hints-
At. iind
■s old he is wiry.
ori^hi
*er. . His rooms arc
equip-
umeter.-, aeroniet.-
rs ai*d
ou against eatchn
1- cold.
liter Lie never rts-.-s
till the
suitable uor take.-,
a bath
g Ihe water tested
for ihe
His time is regularly
0 much for readin-
, writ-
1 and exercise, wfc
die Uis
ies of prudence and
diges-
MR. AND MRS. COHEN,
land, where Mr. Talcott intends entering
the university of Oxford. Mrs. Talcott's
aunt was the second wife of Commodore
Vanderbilt, and representatives of that
famous house showered the bride with
presents and good wishes. Two thou
sand invited guests crowded the church
and took part in the subsequent recep
tion.
The bride wore a superb gown of white
satin with a full train, the front draper
ies of point lace caught up with clus
tered orange blossoms. The corsage was
fully trimmed with the lace aud had a
standing Medici collar. The point lace
veil—the same one worn by her aunt on
her marriage with the commodore—was
held in place by a tiara of diamonds
presented by the bridegroom. A dia
mond necklace, with a crescent pendant,
diamond earrings and bracelets, as well
as other clusters of ihe same stones, were
worn on the corsage and iu the coiffure.
All formerly belonged to her aunt.
Master Everett Crawford, the bride’s
brother, held the bridal bouquet during
the ceremony. He wore a Rembrandt
suit of velvet, trimmed at the throat and
wrists with point lacs. Miss Anna
Easton was maid of honor. She wore a
demi-trained gown of white silk and
mousseline de chiffon. The front was
caught up in festoons with white vel
vet rosettes, and the corsage was cut
V shaped iu front and round iu the back.
In her hair she wore white myrtle and
Grecian bands of white velvet. Her
bouquet was of white roses.
The bridesmaids were Miss Grace Tal
cott, the groom's sister, aud Miss Jessie
Murchison, who wore gowns of apple
green silk and white chiffon, trimmed
with velvet; green suede slippers and
poke bonnets of green velvet, trimmed
with white ostrich tips. They carried
white chrysanthemums.
The other New York wedding was not
■o “swell” in its way, but attracted a
much larger throng. It took place at e
LINCOLN'S MELANCHOLY,
His Syinjuitlieuc Nature and Hi
Early Misfortunes.
These who saw much of Abraham
Lincoln during the later years of his life
wc:e greatly impressed with the expres
sion of profound melancholy h:s face
always wore in repose.
Mr. Lincoln was of a'peculiar sympa
thetic and kindiy nature. Th se at: ig
characteristics irfluenetd, very happily,
as it proved, bi3 entire political career.
Thev wou’d not seem, at first glance, to
l e tffioient aids to political sucoes;: but
in the peculiar era urgency which Llvcolu,
in the providence cf God, was called to
meet, no vessel of common clay could
possibly have become the “chosen of the
Lord ”
TV,ose acquainted with him from boy
hood knew that esrly griefs t :;ged his
whole life with sadness. His partner in
the grocery business at Sa era was
“Uncle” Billy Gresn, of Talinla, 111,, who
used at night, when the customers were
few, to hold the grammar while Lincoln
recited his lessons.
It was to his sympathetic ear Lincoln
t.old the story of his love for sweet ins
Eutlidge; and he, in return, offered what
comfort he could when poor Ann died,
and Lincoln's great heart nearly broke.
“After Ann died,” says ‘ Uncle” Billy,
‘ on stormy nights, when the wind blew
the rain against the roof, A be would set
thar in the grocery’, his elbows on his
knees, his faze Id his hands, and the
tears runnln’ through his fingers. I
hated to see him feel bad, an’ I d say,
Abe don't cry; an’ he’d look up an’ say T
can't help it, Bill, the rain’s a failin’on
her.’ ”
There are many who can sympathize
with this overpowering grief, as they
think of a lost loved one, when “the
rain's a failin’ on her.” What adds
poignancy to the grief sometimes is the
thought that the lost one might have
been saved.
Fortunate, indeed, is William Johnson,
of Corona. L. I., a builder, who writes
June 28,1S90: “Last February, on return
ing from church one sight, my daughter
complained of having a pain in her ankle.
The pain gradually extended until her
entire limb was swollen and very painful
to the touch. We called a physician,
who after careful examination, pro
nounced it disease of the kidneys
of long standing. All we CGuld do,
did not seem to benefit her until
we tried Warner’a Safe Cure; from the
first she commenced to improve. When
she commenced taking it she could not
torn over in bed, and coaid jastmove her
hands a little, but to day she ia aa well
as she ever waa. I believe I owe the re
covery of my daughter to Ue use.”