Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

VOLUME I. THE INDEPENDENT. SATURDAY, J AWT A KIT to. IRT4. J. C. GALLAHER. Editor and Proprietor. ftMt>l&t*rl Weekly nt S‘4 041 prr Annum In Advancr. Copic-M 5 f ns. NKAUIVU THE SIIORK. An rl<s man sit* in & worn arm chair. White m suow is bin thin, Mult hair, ¥>rrowod hia cheek by tiiue Aik* care, And back and forth it • ; There’* * fkr away form in thi* ctm, dim eve, Which tell* of thought* of the hmg gone by, For he Mtu on oo more ’neath a c6mkkMmni sky, And in childhood merrily plays. Ho rests hia cheek on the head of hia cane. And happily smiling dr* ruts over again Of that nom®, the brook, the meadow, the lane, Dreams all with a vision clear : Then childhood yields ttuto manhood’* place. And he l ok* once more in his bright, bright face. And down in the starry eyes he can trace ▲ love remember ed and dear. Then lie wakes and sighs: *Tt eems but a dream That semes to me now like a golden gleam, Or the shimmering glow of the siu’ last beam, Hot tin pleasant to think it o’er; That youth ww so sweet, but now is past, Those <lavw of tore was too precious to last, Bat over vender their pleasures are cast, And I am nearing that shore. He is gliding on in his little boat, O'er the calm, still water they peacefully float, But echo full oft brings t well known note From the land he has left belaud. But time will row back for him no more, And be gaze* away to that other shore, And know s when the voyage of life shall be o’er That his dream beyond he will fiud. The seeds of youth which in vouth wo bow, Adewn through the isles of the future will glow Ami shed on age a beautiful glow As they come in memory’s gleams. Loved faces will come to dimming sight: Hwe>*t word* will who in day dreams bright, And circle old age with their halos of light , As they mmglt: in beautifill dreams. JUST IN TIME! A STOIt Y, two WING WHERE ETHEL MERTHIEIOB PASSED CHRISTMAS EYE CHAPTER I. It was tlie custom of the men staying at Ballasmere Towers to proceed to the bil liard room after dinner; the ladies joining them when coffee was served there, and usually remaining to amuse themselves for h little while before all adjourned to the drawing room. The first pool was just being.concluded on a certain evening in October 186-, when the sound of rustling dresses and merry laughter announced their approach; and headed by Lady Hu thern, they entered the room. You might have marched long before yon found a better looking set of girls than the new arrivals; uad perhaps the prettiest of the number was the little blonde who crossed the room and joined a young man who waslcanijigagiuustthe chimney piece, stroking his m uafaehe and carelessly Watching (he game. A somewhat troubled expression which had settled on his brow passed away, nml very tenderly lie looked down on her smiling face —the face which had b eu his own but a v ry" few weeks. “Well, little woman,” he said, “and wliat have you been doing ? Boring the people with son atas or playing the new piece—what is it called ?—‘Whistling Cock Sparrows ?’ ” "No, sir, it is not! It's ‘Warbling Nightingales!' ” “Well, ‘Wobbling Nightingales,’ if you prefer it; I knew' it was something orni Biological. “I want to talk to yon, Howard,” said she, after replying to his impertinence by a look which was meant to express con tempt, but contained too large a prepon derance of smile to lie successful; “you must please come into the drawing-room With me.*’ Howanl Merthleigli obediently followed liis young wife; and having seated himself on a settee by her side, she commenced: “I have been talking to Mr. Bedford, dear; and he says I ought to speak to you about money matters.” “Mr. Bedford is a bore !” lie replied. “Mr. Bediord is a dear old man, and would never call the pretty pieces his wife played by ridiculous names, sir. But se riously, Howard, he says that the shares in the Peruvian mine—isn't it ?—have been going up, or going down, or—doing some thing that they should not do, and yon ought to look into it." “Into the mine “Into tho matter, sir.” “Don’t worry your little head about it, dear. My money is perfectly safe so long as it ia under old Thornton’s care. When my poor governor left it to me, I may al most say he left me old Thornton to man age it, also. He was a very great friend of my father’s and he lias known me all my life. His wife says she used to nurse me when I was a baby, and 1 dare say it was very nice at that time, and I shall always be much obliged to her, if she doesn’t want to do it now. Thornton has a musty little office in a dark, little by-street in the middle of the city, which, by itself, is cal culated to inspire confidence. All great city swells have dirty little offices in inac cessible courts. Wo won’t say anything about his son Edgar, will we ? or about his being violently in lova with a certain young person ?” “No. we won’t; because the certain vonng person had determined to throw herself away on another unworthy object. Didn't you once say that yon had some money in the hunk of England ?” *‘Yes, dear.” “How much ?’* “Between £3,000 and £4,000.” “Doesn’t that what they call ‘bring something in ?’ ” “Yes you vague child; it what they call brings in about £IOO a year.” “Oh Howard, isn't that very little ? Do you know, I believe the clerks and people at the bank have found oftt that you don’t understand anything about money matters and don’t give yon enough ! Do you think that is it ?” “It never occurred tome in that light before, dear. I have hitherto had the greatest confidence in the integrity of the governor and company of the Bank of England.” he replied. “You are laughing at me sir ! I know you do read such things as the papers, though. But how much money have yon got ?” “Four pounds, seventeen shillings and six pence,” he replied, searching his pock ets and displaying the amount “unless that half crown is a bad one, as I strongly sus pect it is.” TUTU TNTWPin 1 MUUMT JL Ji I I—-JeL jL. J& Jr J. —i-li.. -ii n Jl.. -J .._*d .A- > J— © “I don’t mean that. Why are you so ilipid ?" she replied, stamping an im patient little foot. "For the same reason that Dr. Watts' dogs delight to bark and bite, I suppose, dear, it is my nature to. But seriously, I don’t know what notion ym have got into your sapient little head, 'sit I’ll tell you all about it. I have £l,>.Al a year from the new shares —the worn money, as it was before invested, only brought in £l,loo— say £IOO from the Hank of England: that’s £1.700 a year. Bedford distrusts young Thornton's ’enteness; but though lie certainly has a good deal to do with the management of the bit -mess, I’m sure he does not hing imports] < without con sulting his father. The . ..res are certain to be all right in adny or hvo,though Bed ford is correct in saying hat they don't look very rosy at-present.” Ethel * soon satisfied, and was ex pressing herself to that < et, when a ser vant entered with letters for her husband; and she settled down to h . r the nows af ter rewarding him for hi, explanation in th. ..uuuer ■ woiild-not lyip JEmt bl~ any'one been in the room. “From Frank Harvey," he said glancing through tlie firs’; “he has passed his ex amination for the Civil Service— Bays he couldn't have held on two days longer; he was crammed so full of knowledge that he must certainly have blown up if the exam ination had boon postponed. That’s a—-an arithmetical problem submitted by a friend.” Tlie problem consisted of a long column of figures and many refer ences to “Melton,” “Saxony,” “Angola” and other mysterious words. “You don't like arithmetic, do yon ?" Ethel inquired. “Not of this sort. ” “It requires a great deal of patience, 1 always thought.” “My friend agrees with you, I have no doubt," Howard replied. “An invitation to l’owysford Court; we can’t go. Ah, here i< a letter from Thornton;” and lie tore open the envelope very hastily. A certain prerot/niive seemed to tell him that something was wrong. Mr. Bedford, tile old friend who had spoken to Ethel that evening, had several times earnestly cautioned him against the investment In had been induced to make; but Howard placed all confidence in Thornton, and never troubled himself about business; lounging easily in a good humored way through the world, perfectly contented so long as the Touug girt he lmd so recently made his wife was happy. “What does lie say ?” asked she. He said the worst; and when Howard had picked the truth from the host of re grets and words of hitter self-accusation in which it was wrapped up, lie saw that the result was simply ruin. “How serious you look, darling ! Is any one ill ?” Ethel inquired, in an anxious tone. “No, Ethel, no one is ill, but I have received some very bail news. I will tell yon about, it in the morning. I must go anil find Reginald. Go to bed and don’t ask questions now, my little girl.” He spoke very tenderly, and poor Ethel, who had never before seen such a troubled look on her husband’s handsome face, n< pt up stairs will, an anxious heart ami sobbed herself to sleep. Next morning Howard and his c r.sin, Sir Reginald Hatliern, the master of Bab lasmere Toweis, walked to and fro on the grovel walk in front of the house. Before them .stretched the park, thickly covered with grand old trees, the leaves w hich still dung on their parent stem showing a won drous wealth of color, made more resplen dent by the bright sunshine; hilt neither of the young men was in a frame of mind to think much of the scene. “No, old fellow,” Howard said, in an swer to a proposition which his cousin had made; “what you suggest is simply an ex cuse for giving me the money. But I must do something for myself.” "What ?” curtly asked his cousin. “That’s the question. I should, I think, prefer a public life of some sort ’’ “The Lord Chancellorship, for exam ple,” said Sir Reginald, who was hurt that, the offers of assistance which he hail made hail not keen accepted. He aixl Howard had been companions at Eton and at Cambridge, anil were more like brothers than cousins. “Not quite,” Howard said. “What chance has one of success on the stage?” “If one were'a good-looking girl, with no objection to going a step nearer to the costume of our first parents than her sis tersjp art have gone, one, might obtain a livelihood,” replied Reginald. “Bnt for me, who can only counterbal ance those attractions by a tolerably good education and a great liking for the pro fession ?” “A hundred young fellows with similar qualifications are working in the provinces earn five-and-twentv shillings a week; which is paid them when the treasury is sufficiently full to bear such a drain on its resources. ” "What about singing? That Italian tenor we met in town said some very kind things about my voice. There’s stock in trade; what more does a man want ?” “Customers and an opportnny of ex hibiting Ilia wares. No, I don’t mean to say that voice and musical knowledge are not very desirable things in a singer, but the possession of them does not insure success by any means. How about Ethel’s chancery business ?" “What, the £80,000? I should be ex tremely glad to take, £Boofor the chance.” “Well, if you decline my offer, I will go to town and talk to Carton about it. I fancy a lawyer is the most likely person to give advice. ” “Thanks. I shall not mind working, and would rather eat the bread of careful ness than dependence—even when it’s yonrs, dear old Regy. You won’t blame me ?” and he held out his hand to his eonsin, who shook it warmly; and then Howard went into the house to find Ethel. To take a little house at Richmond for headquarters; to dream away the summer days, floating lazily down the sunny stream in a little boat— With indolcDt ftnyi-rs fretting the tide. And an indolent arm around a darling waist a short tour to some unfrequented little town in the sunny South, and then, when winter came, to go from one pleasant country house to another to meet old friends and experience those enjoyments which are to be met with nowhere else— this was the picture Howard and Ethel had formed of married life; but the result was far different. How true it is that “every gate is thronged with suitors, opens hut to gol den keys,” grows daily more apparent; and Howard would have had small chance of finding a market for such labor as he QUITMAN, (I V., SATURDAY, JANUARY 10, 1874. could offer, if lie had not been fortunate enough to command strong influence. A j hope hail dawned on his mind that the failure might prove less disastrous than Thornton had at first represented; but an interview with the old man soon dissipated this, and it became very apparent that he must augment his wofully reduced means by hard work; for he was soon convinced how futile were all ideas of success in the paths he had at first proposed. Carton, his cousin’s lawyer, had obtained an ap pointment for him in the city, by which he was enabled to add auother £‘2oo ft year to his little fortune; and so the seat in the gently gliding boat of which he had ; dreamed was exchanged for one in a prim room near the Mansion House, and his arms were far from indolent. Howard had never dreamed of working, and his daily labors were terribly mono tonous and tedious; but regrets for what his carelessness had brought on Ethel absorbed every other feeling. She, poor little girl, found Bayswater lodgings very dull and dreary after the luxurious exis tenoe to which she hart been accustomed. Books were less interesting than formally and music less cheering; and the slatternly servant, so different from the spruce, trim maids she was used to have about her. absolutely made her shudder. “Have something nico for luncheon, dear,” was the practical consolation which Howard suggested, as ho departed the first day to “business,” and Ethel took heart at one o’clock to ring the hell and ask for a cutlet, remembering the pints which the chr/ at Ballasmere was in the habit of sending up in answer to similar requests. Surely the gory flap of meat which pres ently made its appearance was not a cutlet ? At any rote, it destroyed Ethel's appetite for the rest of the day. But although the clocks did creep on at n pace they had never adopted until very lately, the hands reached five at last; and then Howard appeared, the dear old insou ciant smile on his face, so unlike a business man; and again, as of yore, music was soothing, for lie turned the pages, and she was fain to admit that editors had not for med.a conspiracy to keep everything inter esting from their pages, for he read to her. Theatres, too, were still amusing, although certainly, cabs did rattle abominably and were very different from the easy carriages in which she had hitherto been whirled about. Yes. the evenings were very happy; and Howard’s head, which ached from bending over his dull task, grew suddenly well when Ethel’s lips had touched his forehead, or. if the pain was not quite charmed away by that pleasant, remedy, he did not complain, lest the knowledge should mar the happiness of his tenderhearted little wife. Perhaps at times each of them thought with a sigh of the happy picture they had formed which was not realized; hut this life had its pleasures also, and had it been destined that they should continue in it they might have been very happy. Visitors rarely appeared at the house, but there was one who was very constant in his attendance. It was Edgar Thorn ton; and scarcely n dsy passed that he d'd not find his way to Bayswater to call on Ethel. Very profuse was lie in his regrets lor what had occurred; very bitterly did he condemn his own rashness and wilful ness. taking (very properly) all the blame on his own shoulders and absolving his father; for Edgar Thornton had a game to play, and this was. lie thought, tlie way to play it. The confidence which Howard placed in Mr. Thornton was well bestowed; and so, indirectly, he placed it tdso in Edgar, who abused it as such " thorough paced rogue as he was certain to do. So he called daily, taking a humble offering in the shape of a bouquet or some choice fruit, and treated Mrs. Merthleigli with most respectful attention. And Et hel ? Howard had hinted at Ballasmere of love between them in the old days be fore her marriage; but if there ever had been any it had most certainly been all on his side. She had always instinctively shrunk from him, feeling by that intuitive knowledge which pure women possess, that lie was not a good man. But she had struggled hard to overcome the feel ing, not liking, poor little girl, to think ill of any one; and so, fearing she had done him injustice, she tried to he very polite and as cordial as possible to him. The presence, too, of any one who knew Howard was pleasant to her; especially when, as had recently been tlie case, lie had not returned home so regularly, siev ing that business detained hint, and,' had better not wait dinner. Dinner \ out Howard was a very dull ceremony; Hilt she consoled herself with the reflection that it was necessary and couldn’t he helped, and continued her daily occupa tion of wondering what was the matter with the clock for a few hours' longer than usual. “Has any one been ?” Howard asked, returning home one evening. “No, dear O, Edgar Thornton,” she added the moment after. His coming had grown such a usual event that it made no impression on her mind. “Pretty regular in his visits he seems ?” Howard suggested. “Yes; lie always says how sorry he is to miss you,” Ethel answered. “Ah, that’s very kind of him,” said Howard. “I don’t quite think I like our friend Edgar, dear; Vmt I’m obliged to be very polite to him or lie would think that. I blamed him for that wretched money business. I saw his father to-day. and really felt more sorry for him than I did for myself—he seemed so distressed. Poor little girl,” and he kissed her very lov ingly, “you look very pale and thin; the country will do you lots of good. By Jove, I little thought last 22il of December that this year I should be in the city. Well, it only proves the old proverb, “Nothing happens hut the unexpected." I wonder what next year has in store. More city, I suppose.” Ethel was seated at the piano, and as lie finished speaking, her fingers strangely wandered into Schubert's “Adieu.” CHAPTER 11. It was the morning of the 23d of De cember, and for the last time for a fort night—as he then thought, not knowing what would so swiftly come to pass— Howard had gone to his office. They were going down to Ballasmere Towers on the morning of Christmas Day, and Ethel was just meditating the important subject of packing up, when the maid announced a visitor. “Ask him to walk up,” said Ethel, and the girl retired, returning anon with the information that he “didn’t like; would the good lady mind stepping out and speaking to him ?” Ethel descended tho narrow stairs to comply with the request, and found a man in tho hall dressed as u carpenter. He made haste, on seeing her, to remove the paper covering which did duty for hat, and, having rubbed the bashfulness from his face with the apron mound his waist, said: “Your good man ainlriit home, mum ?” Ethel, correctly inferring that ho meant Howard, replied that he was not. "I called for them carpets for the hup stair rooms, mum ?" “The carpets ?’’ Ethel said, wondering. “Yes, mum; I come from Mr. Mantel, the upholsterer, and I was to say as W -he ’ad got some of the crimson pattern, and the curtains would be up to-night.” “I don’t at all understand yon: I think you must have made a mistake I" Ethel exclaimed; wondering whether this was the right time to ask him to have some beer a suggestion which she had an im pression she ought to alwi.vs make when talking to a working -v ••. > “This is Mr. Mert hbS;: ‘tl .isn’t it, mum? Mr. ’Ownrd Mertleigli ?” “Yes,” Ethel admitted. “And ain’t that ’is writin’, mum ?” in quired the man, anxious to make quite sure, showing Ethel a note which she im mediately saw was in her husband's hand, addressed to the upholsterer. Utterly perplexed, she said that it was. “Are the curtains and things for this house ?" asked she. “No, mum, for Mr. Mertleigh’s other ’onso at Richmond—the one we're doin’ for 'im. Mr. Mantel says lie's very glad he was able to get the curtains the pat tern as the lady chose beoos ho feared he wouldn't be able to. ” A chilling fear took hold of Ethel’s heart. There could lie no mistake. Howard had taken a house, away from town; and why, was answered by the fact that a lady had been with iiim to choose the | furniture. will let Mr. Merthleigli know you called —lie is not at home now,” Ethel said in alow voice, struggling hard to hide her emotion from the man, and then run ning up stairs and locking the door of her ! room, she flung herself upon the bed and | wept a flood of passionate tears. Had she deserved this from the man for ; whom she had given up her life of luxury j to live in wretched lodgings ? she argued !in her unreasoning grief. How she had ; hungered for the grip of his false hand, | for a look from his traitorous eyes ! and w bile she had sat, wearily watching for his i return, where had he been ? Tlie thought maddened her. She had been so entirely true, and the discovery of his treachery was all the more bitter, inasmuch ns it was utterly unexpected. llow should she act ? Meekly pardon this great wrong, and take again to her true heart him whose heart, had been so basely false ? What surety had she for this truth ? Having been i false once, lie would bo false a grill ! And the angry tears seemed like to change her from a loving, trusting child for so in very sooth she wan into a revengeful woman. “A gentleman to see you mum,” said ; the umid' knocking at her door. Ethel's first impulse was to say sin' j could not see any one -surely she had re : reived enough visitors that day 1 But j anything was preferable to her own l thoughts; so, bathing her eyes and throb I lung forehead, and striving hard to repress i the quiverings of her lip, she descended to j the drawingroom. The visitor was a young man of some j six and twenty years of age; albeit a smile I on his face, it was not a pleasant smile to see, and though his face was to a certain j extent a handsome one, there was a look I in the eyes that boded ill for the person of j whom lie thought. “I think we are. approaching the termi i nation of act 2,” lie said to himself; "let’s i hope the curtain will full on a satisfactory j situation—satisfactory to myself, I mean, j I’m the walking gentleman, only it’s nu | fortunate that my interests are opposed i to those of the rest of the <ntmatis persona 1 . \ Well, the character will have been well I worth the trouble of sustaining if the ile j nouement is only as I wish it to be 1” The | smile gr&w into a sneer; which, however, rapidly disappeared when Ethel opened the door. “Good morning, Mr. Thornton,” she j said, as nearly iu her natural voice as possible. “Good morning, Mrs. Merthleigli. I’m i so sorry to see—as I do only too plainly— I that you are not well.” He spoke in a j tone of tender compassion, more so than he had ever dared to assume before, for he : had determined to put it to the touch to l day, and the strange look iii her face told i him that things had happened mi he ex pected. “Thank you; I have rather a headache,” Ethel replied, very truly, with difficulty repressing the tears which still strove to reach her eyes. “When do you leave town ?” he asked. “Not until the morning of Christmas day,” she answered. Ah, now she saw plainly enough why ho had delayed their departure until then. “How I shall miss you I” he said with a | sigh. Should he cross the room to the sofa where she was sitting ? Perhaps it was too soon for that, and there was plenty of time. “Mr. Mefthlcigti accompanies you, of course ?" “Yes, I supp—” she checked herself be fore her anger mastered her tongue—“yes, of course !” But Thornton saw that the full time was oomo for him to commence his project. Ho crossed the room now, and seated him self by her side, she littlo heeding liis movements. “I hardly know how to say to you what I wish—what I feel it my duty, as a loving I friend, to say.” The tone in which lie spoke was very earnest, and Ethel listened | intently. “Mertleigli is my friend; but iso are you. You were a very dear friend i once, Ethel—forgive me if the old name j rushes to my lips—and you ought to know I all—all the wretched, miserable truth 1” ; lie said with indignation. “I saw a man— -1 a workingman—leave the house before I | entered it. I cannot tell wliat may have I brought him here, but I have reasons for i asking if the distress which I grieve to see : in your face is in any way attributable to his visit ?” He knew well what the man’s errand I had been aud how it was that lie had seen | Ethel, instead of calling at hor husband’s ! office. “Your silence assures me that it is so.” Ethel laid turned her head from him and ; Was resting her face on her hand. “The j ; moment has come, Ethel, when I may i speak—when it ia disloyalty to no one if ! I say the word I have longed so earnestly ito say. Your woman’s heart will tell you ; if the words oomo from the bottom of my soul when I say, “I love you!” Mertli leigh’s miserulilo secret is a secret no lon ger ; I see that you know the truth-, tmy, Ethel, I see that it is so. You know where ho pusses his days, though you do not, perhaps, know with whom. You know of the house at. Richmond, and will guess that where there is a Page there is a bird. There, I will suy no more. Ethel, my darling, your tears madden mo 1” He tried to draw her to him, but even in this momentof supreme grief she freed herself from his grasp. Ho raised hisfaoe, which had been near the unhappy girl’s ear, and a devilish smile gleamed in his false eyes. Tlie game was fur him 1 “Ethel” he eon tinned, “I loved you from the first, but when you chose that traitor I let you go, stifling my misery with tho thought of your happiness. Had he remained true, and in a small degree worthy of you, I would have kept silence to the end; but now love gives me the right to speak, and, trembling, I seize my right mid implore you to give me what Igtlri:vk.-.wa ever my own. Your love 1 ask, Ethel i Come with me away from this villain, and from all remembrance of him. There are happy spots out of England where nature is so much fairer than this miserable street as my love is deeper than liis. lam rich in money, but very pool without the heart I prize above all else in the world ! Will you let him keep what he esteems so lightly and lit! content with one spot in liis heart if that remains to you -while all liis real affection is lavished on another ? Do you prefer that to the devotion I offer —to the adoration I cannot help but give? Speak, Ethel; and speak pitifully, for the sake of t lie years I have suffered.” She dried her eyes; mid, but that a frantic sob ever and anon broke her utter auee, replied calmly— “Mr. Thornton, my husband is false to mo, as 1 know, and you profess to love me, as 1 believe you do. I will go with you.” A little shudder crept round her heart; but her passion destroyed it, and thus she took revenge. ‘ 'Spok, u like the brave girl I love 1” he cried. “It would he doubting tho cour age you have shown to ask if you will de lay. We may catch the 3:30 train to Beacliville if v,e are quick, and from there we can cross the water. Come, Ethel ! You have acted nobly and with the spirit I was certain you would display, and hap piness will bo your reward 1” Very hard and cold aud stern was Ethel, and triumphant as he was, lie dared not so much ms *tako her liaml. She left the room, and returned in a few moments ar rayed for the most perilous journey hlic had ever adventured. There was a cab stand by the door, and ere many seconds they were jolting towards tho railway sta tion. The train was gone, and they were forced to wait two hours for another. Ethel, ulosely veiled, sat by the waiting room fire; she had not yet realized her po sition, and only felt ad 11 aching pain at her heart, and a dim knowledge that a dreadful cloud overshadowed all her life; a cloud that had no silver lining, and through which the. sunbeams could not penetrate, however resplcildeiitly they might shine. Thornton, well muffled up for lie aid not care about being noticed —strode up aud down *’ ~ pririLiui, suiM: iug a cigar aud chuckling to himself at the success of his scheme and this folly of those from whom lie lied won the game. “Tlie asses talk of honesty and right al ways turning up trumps in tho end, but it strikes rno they haven’t miieli chance against a well concocted plan! Our poor, dear, deserted Howard can console himself with the glorious reflection that ‘virtue is its own reward !’ The girl didn’t look bad when she stood up and made her little speech, and ‘though I says it as shouldn’t,’ I don’t know the je<me premier on the stage at present who could have done the love making better! Infernal nuisance this delay- ah, that’s the train. Beaeh ville train, isn’t it, porter ?” he asked. “Yus, sir. Any baggage ?" asked the man. “No," replied Thornton. “Shall I lake your bag to a carriage, s : r ?” the porter naked, alluding to a small black valise Thornton carried in his hand. He declined. “I mustn’t part with you, my precious little friend,” said he, hur rying to the waiting room to fetch Ethel. He ensconced her ill a corner of tlie car riage; tlie whistle sounded aud the trail glided out of the station. And then for the first time, as the cold wind blew into her hot face, and waved her glossy hair, she began to recognize, the deed she was doing. As the train took her, husband, friends, self-respect, honor, were left behind. And then she thought of Howard; of how good and true, and noble he had ever been; and suddenly it flashed across her mind that the true explanation of this dreadful mystery might be other than she supposed. Evidence seemed against him; but was it possible to think that he, who hail ever shown himself n great-hearted gentleman’ worthy descendant of the men of his race who had gone before 1 hifn, could be so base to one whose wtiolo trust had been stayed in him? And she remembered all the love and kindness which he had lavished on her; how she had never heard cross word from his lips or seen angiy look in his eye; how ho had forgiven girlish wilfulness with a pleasant smile in the old days before She was quite liis own: and how, since tire lines had fallen hardly on him and he had come upon evil days, ho hail been the same as ever—true, loving and kind ! And she was leaving him for — “Are you comfortable, my darling?” asked a voice. The last word cut her like n knife ! How sweetly it had sounded from Howard’s lips —how fondly he had looked on her when first he used it! “Oh, yes, thank yon ! Pray don’t speak tome,” she hurriedly implored. “I hope we are not going to have any infernal tantrums,” he muttered, throwing himself into the corner of the carriage. The train, which had stopped at the sta tion, again moved on. One stage further from fair fume and from the husband she was leaving—the husband she was leaving for whom ? This man, who was as far re moved from Howard in all that was noble as darkness from light! This man, from whom she recoiled with horrot now that onee, more her brain assorted its sway ! Ah, if she could escape ! Ho would not cast her from him, she felt wire. YY'ns it too late ? Hhe glanced at her companion; there was a determined look in his eyes which spoko ill for tho success of any prayer she might address to him for release. The train again stopped. “Let me give yon a cup of tea,” ho said. “You have had no dinner, you know, and must want something ?” “1 could not take anything, thank you," she answered. “No, please sit there,"she added, foi lie made it move us if to come her side. “My head r fli ■ terribly 1” The smilo on liis face was not plea; tut to sec as he returned to liis corner. “Y’ou are master now, my !idy,”ho grimly niut tered under liis breath, “but, as they snv on the provincial stuge, a day will come 1 ’ Once more nml the train stopped, utn littlo station, and as it drew up by the platform a way of escape from the thinl dym which was momentarily more closelj encircling her suggested itself. They bail already paused a minute, when sho looked uputher companion, who had not spoken for Ethel’s face did not invite conversation -anil said, “Will yon please fetch me u glasa of water ?” "I’m so glad to do something for yon, darling,” lie said, and hastily li ft the carriage. “What a cursed nuisance wo men arc ! Why couldn’t she Imvo spoken i at a station where ivu stopped a few min utes ?” lie said, .us |ie strode across the platfrom. So soon as he had disappeared into the wretched little refreshment room Ethel slipped from the carriage and fled with trembling feet to the waiting room. The bull rang before Thulium emerged with the water, and he rushed hastily to the train. Ethel was not there! He must, have gone to the wrong compartment! He glanced through the next window, and | just then the train moved off; and with a quickly beating heart and words of fer vent thanks to Heaven on her lips the watcher saw him spring hastily through the carriage door, and the train glided off into the darkness. Hhe sank on to a chair in the deserted little room, nml covered her face with her hands, after drawing a long deep breath of the free air. Someone entered the room. She lis tened. Surely the sound of the footsteps was very familiar to her ears ? she raised her face. It was Howard. He looked on her with a gaze which would have been very stern but for the blessed pity in it, as she, dazed by the nn expected apparition, stood speechless be fore him. “Are you my wife?” he asked inastrange tone. Her eyes were as tho eves of an angel ns she looked into his face, so that ho did not need to hear her say, “Your own wife I” as she sank sobbing at his feet. Anil then he raised her and tc ill her in his arms; and she heard those words which she hail thought’would never again greet her listening ears, and as of yore, she full b ; s loving caress; and the te ,rs flowed faster than they had flowed ; n her exceeding sorrow- t.iars of happiness sent by a gracious God, to wash away her 1 misoi/ and the remembrance of her sin fulness. “I will ask you no questions, my own j darling. lam quite satisfied to find you I again. How coulil you doubt me ? Was 1 wrong in keeping ft secret from you ? There was money siivial from the wreck of the mining shares, though I said not—£2,ooo j and 1 took the littlo horse at Richmond i which you had chosen, and furnished it as you wished. It Was to be a Christmas p.eaui!. y-s'.:, mi AT invited Reginald and Iris wife and Bedford to dinner there on Christmas Eve. YVe can still meet them, my wife, and let all this puss away like the memory of a bad dream.” Then lie told her how it happened that he had appeared so unexpectedly. On returning home, radiant with pleasure at the prospect of their lnfliday fid of the sniprise he had ill store for her, ho was astonished that she did not lush out as usual to greet him; and the astonishment was increased when he found that she was not in tlie house. He rang tho bed, and was told by the servant that she had gone out with a gentleman at three o’clock and had not returned. Wundt ing up stairs in lit perplexity lio had found a few lines she had scrawled on a sheet of paper, say ing that she lmd gone, and for wliut reason. Paralyzed by surprise and grief, lie left the house, pausing for a moment on the ; doorstep, not knowing whither to go; and J while there a cabman on the neighboring ; stand offered his vehicle. It was the man j who had taken Ethel end Thornton to the station, and who knew Howard, being often employed by him. The gliaitly look on the young man's face confirmed the suspicions he hail formed when hired by Thornton that all was not well; for something in Ethel's manner had attracted his attention, anil knowing Thornton was not her husband, he had watched. “I’ve ’ad a job from your place afore to day, sir,” he said to Howard, letting him know where lie took the fugitives and also that their destination was Beacliville, for curiosity had induced him to ascertain. Howard hail followed, and as they had missed their train fugitives and pursuer had all gone at the same time. On look ing out. of the window at the little station where Ethel had escaped,, to his intense j Hill prise lie hud seen her, and, springing from the train, followed her to the room. “My Ethel,” he said, when he had j finished his narrative, “wo will live hap pily, in perfect confidence, at your new house. Not quite so luxuriously as we j might have done- I fear there will be no | pony carnage for ft long time to come” (he i wished to divert her mind from its present thoughts), “but we will be very happy; j anil I shall, I hope, soon obtain some em j ployment that will give me lucre time with ! you. I hear the train; let us go.” It was pot the Irani, but mi engine only j which drew up by the platform, from wb'eli ft man n'ightcd with a grave face. “1 beg pardon, sir, you ain’t a doctor?” he asked. “No, I’m not,” Howard answered. “What’s the matter?” “An accident down the line, sir. Goods train in the way, as usual. Bad accident, I’m afraid, and it’s at a lonely place about j two miles off, where there ain’t much help ; to be got,” the man answered. “Gnu I help ?” asked Howard. “Well, sir, if you would not mind—it’s i adi oty like. Wo’ve sent telegrams', but: jit’ll lie some time before they are an-; swered." Hows,id returned for a moment to the j I room where he had loft Ethel. “There has beeiruu accident un accident, Ethel,” j ;he said solemnly—“to tho train by which we came here; wo were only just in time ! j lam going to see if I can be of any assis tance.” \ She pressed his hand between her own, ; and kissed it. and ho and two or three others mounted the engine and sped away; : leaving Ethel to reflect, with awe and gratitude to Heaven, on the ruin which , had so nearly befallen her. NUMBER 46. A teniblo sight mot Howard’s guzo when he r •lied tho sccuo of tho cutus t.-ophe. I ot’i'vie iho c „w. bv tlie light of nailing -relies, were tWcitly strewed with frr meats of the carriages, and here r id there eniong tho debris weio still living bc ; ng ; who hr 1 not been extricated. Tho great enyino lay helplessly, on its side, and on Clio pathway by the mils were three “shapes" covered with tarpau lin. The first thing he saw wns a man, who was kept down by a mrn of woodwork cover! lg liis legs. It was Edgar Thorn ton. Howard made liis way to him. Ho d’d not then know lioiv deeply the pros trate figure hail wronged him; lmt, had he known, it wns, of course, impossible to’ refuse assistance at such a moment. Howard recognized him with i itonisli nuvt, which wi s shared by tho sufferer, who t’ttle thought to son Ethel’s husband. “Great Heaven, Tpotnton! My poor fellow, I fear your legs uro hurt." “No,” gesped the other, sper’dng with ■rro.’ difficulty and iu a low tone, “Is she safe ?” ilia Howard sow the truth. “She kit the train at tho last station,” lie rufun-u, as gently as h's surprise would allow. “1 don’t know what’s brought you here,” tho dying me l murmured, ‘-lmt it’sn- veil you have come. It’s—all up with mb—• my back is hurt. I robbed you of your money —as I would have done of your wife. There are £15,000 of yonrs—iu that black bag'. The Peruvian money wns nertwlust. I nave been studying that—Chancery suit -yonr wife must win—papers there will rxpl lin. That is the reason I I tempted her to leave you.” His voice grow very indistinct, and almost inaudible to Howard, who kneeling down, bent ovi r him. “I should like to hour her say—l I forgive”— After Howard hail said a prayer over the lifeless body, it. r hh and u fourth to the three shapes under the t uipau'in. The black valise which had remained hi tho carriage where ho left Ethel for tho last time on e hhe felt the solid ground beneath his feet had iu the terrible shock been restored to his side. We have s6ei how lie had been . -rated ”i the next com partment of the cat lie 3o when the train [ill iged on to destruction. “Perfi etly dimming !” wns tlie verdict which the little paray passed on Howard’s house, nftei dinner, oil the evening suc ceeding these events. “It’s awfully kind of you, Bogy, to leave the Towers on Christmas evo to gratify my whim,” su’d Howard. The hr ouot—who was usur’ly an ex ec lingly ilemonstvitive man—shook hands vltli Iris co.mrn for somewhere about the tbii./-fifth (ime flint evening, anil replied, “We’ll lifak'e tip foi - it before' Twe ,f th day, old ftrilow !” He kept h's word; anil the B.dlesmero tenants and sc; /ants, incited by the ex ample of their lord and Iris friends, made it up to such ail extent that it is greatly to he feared their festivities approached tho extreme verge of “orgies.” “How wonde'-fe' that Howard slionld have been on tho spot at the time of the accident! I didn’t know lie hail been out of town at all,” Lady Hatliern remarked to Ethel in the course of the evening. Ethel’s eyes, which had been lovingly following every movement of her bus-' b .lid's, for a moment grow sail; but she did not say how the wonder had come to ]iass, or that at this hour last evening she who was now sitting by tho cheerful light of the lire in tl at pleasant room had been waiting for Howard on the dark, cold plat form of a little station miles from London. The visitors had departed to their hotel and Howard and Ethel were alone when the cluck stuck twel/o. “Is 3'onr Christmas as baopy as you ex pected it. to be, my own vviie ?” he asked; and Ethel threw her. If int i Iris aims and was clroped rightly to her husband’s lov ing heart, os tlie bells rung ’l Christinas morning. Allot.jMHor Goto. —The Han Ber ni (lino (Cal.) Argus, of Nov. 27, gives th’s extraordinary account of recent, dis covery. It sounds like the stories of the en: - lv days of California: “John Brown, Hr., arrived here yester day, and has set the town wild with excite ment by reporting the discovery by Charles (!a or of the richest belt of gold quartz w nidi has ever been discovered in Cali fornia. The find is situated near Bear Valley, this side of Holcomb, which has been travelled for the past twenty years. Career was rilling leisurely along, with liis ev upon the ground, when lie saw some thing glisten in the sunlight, mid immedi ately stopped his horse and took another’ look. His curiosity became more aud more excited, and, with his eyes fixed upon the glistening spot, he dismounted anil f. timed liis horse, and proceeded to investigate the mystery. Upon approach ing the place and examining it, he liecame convinced that tho shining mass was pure gold, niul as large as a pea, anil upon fu-- tlicr examination he became convinced that lie laid indeed stuck one of tho big gest gold lodges in California. For go where ho would tho glistening jewels would present themselves. The rock was perfectly bespangfi 1 with gold. Piece after piece was broken oil', and in differ ent localities, but the same result was there—gold. It is said that one piece, about the size of n man's list, contains, on closo estimate, SIOO. Carter says tho lodge is fully six feet wide, anil stands up about that distance, mid upon all sides, where 110 lias broken off pieces, does it show the same unbounded richness. Brown showed us a piece as large ns a hen’s egg, which is jHi'fectly alive with free gold. When the news reached Hol comb valley, work was suspended and everybody proceeded to the now El Do rado, and the work of laying off and stak ing out claims was the order of tlie day.” A Pennsylvania newspaper lias ma’o the grand discovery of an old woman who is tho “grandmother of four sets of twins.” That may be something remarkable, but we can hardly see what direct credit the grandmother cun claim iu tho matter. The Works for the' submarine tunnel un der the English channel are to be begun immediately. ,Shafts ate to be sunk at Dover and Cape Gris Nez, mid tunnels are to be run for a mile under the sea. Marshal MocMalion, President of tho French Republic, is seventy-two years of age, and lias had his term of office exten ded seven years. In Decatur, 111., when a young lady de clines mi offer to convey her home, beasts ]i I'mission to sit 011 the fence .uni set hoc