Newspaper Page Text
03A r rH W li <l?k I V <TA P
_l_ JlljLj W V Jl_j „Cj .Jjk. JLj I Ix \ ri>
Vol. VII.-NQ. 3.
John. M. Edge,
T1 ORJt*# i* •* r M W’.
DouglaivVlllei *• Cta.
WI LL practice in all the courts, and
promptly attend to all business en
rusletl to his care.
T. S. BOTLffIR
TTcuho
DOUGLASVILLE, - GA
rnnkoriTd furniture look a* w-ll .8
VV new. Give him stjul In tin* line. Wiu
also dp hoiw c trnenter 1 n-z wprk,
;
ATTORN E Y AT LAW.
(iouylaMnlb, (i(vtnjia,
W I f. L practice in all the courts, State
anti Federal. Jan i3ly.
r— — -T 1 "-'/”-?*".- — av: 1 ’ —r~.
P. S. Verdery,
jPTi'ysiciah and Sarqeoh.
OFFICE at UDDHON & EDGE’S -DRUG
HTußl'n where he can be found at all
hours c.vepl wjben prole.s-.ioii:tll.v cg-igcd.
special attention glycn to Cluonh-ea-'!?, xn< |
t s.ieciaiiy all thntliatp been treated and
ire still undnnd. ' Jan l-’l ~ r> ay.
XKespect.fi illy offer my services ns physi
i <witp jMi l stirxeon, to the ncopleof Douv
vis villa ill) d vic'ni ty. \H calls will be at,t«"-
led promptly. 1 'an be found at the drugstore
;ll’Hull «m & Edge, during til • dty and at
fight at my • es'd-mee at the house recently
M'.cupled by J. i’.irinaii.
J. B. EDGE
Dr. T. R. WHIL’LEY,
Physician and Surgeon.
X>>U. , ;l'’s,vtilo. s C-trOu
" P.illAL itte ill >n glven tfi* Siirirnry a
* ■.Curonlc Fem lie troubles. O(JJ •aunstair
z..— ..... . .. - .... ..
■■ ■’ CD. CAMP,
a Trd'lNEY AT LVV, Civil, ENGIN
EEK, vNI) SH.tVE >' Ht, I»>L’<ILIS
“'*■ VILLE, Gt. Wl Ipru-'l.-u Liv -
■: Hiirveyitig any where by special contract.
~ I'HOM AK W. 1 AT’lGi7~~'
Attorney at law
F.ItBUKN, GEO! GIA.
WiM practice in all the Courts
o-h State tHi'l Federal,
Special ttCUiiih n given to f.uit.®
nttiuHi Uhiliuitnln Mid other Corpo
t liwujj,, i'l nt lend regularly the
upeiior and itbercourie of Douglas
ounty. ’ • <
B RUiiKE rtf 3eT«~”
*'ar/d i,t ilx pariown
Dreire for aitruulants entirely removed.-'
lonic treu'nient. Mvdiylue c:in be tvumnis*
en d williom kiiowh one of patient, by Mln
>Jy piiicli'g It, Im c. Mt'ee, leu or any article of
od. cures guurantcc'i.
SIOO WinteT'aicL ' '
'’or any cse of drankenness that (inideu
iperiflewiU not. cure. < IrcuUrs emitaluibK,
stlnioirisll nlid’full particulars «cnt*"ree
Lddrsss
, (iOLDt:\MFKCIFM. VO.
V?i Gp.iHj fezAJ/sl- 5
«
m _ -
v''-" '
flirt BB3h
sbl| 13 “ -™ E §
w EESTTOkIt ?
Till* m*d(cln«. oanbfnlng Irw with pun,
njvuibi* tonic*, quickly mnl. c«nnpl«t»ly
i um lb«rrn»l», IV¥esknc~«,
I aiimr* Blowd, .Halßi'ia,( ltili*nu<l Future,
kied Nturela'n.
lit* m unft.tiles: remedy Jar bisewwwef ths
KUb«!l l.ltwr.
It |« in»«l)Mil>hi for ..nmn* tsaudlsr to
Vsritn, and all wh<> l««d Mflentstrih'.«.
ItdaMMMinjure the Urth. cuun-headache.or
)V>n«tip*tiOn—on,rr Ivrm w>r>octn<* do.
ltenrk'he»anA ynrifiee theV>oo<l,atiniul*ie«
t'm uppedte. old# the eeshni’etiuw nl <<<sl.ro
iiere, Heartj.mn ami lleJehliig, Mid ttnugtiv
«u« t* r nnweie* and nrivca. •
For
X i«j|:y,<ks.. it ha' n® equal.
AW- The, cenutuo has abotc trade mark and
,r- reiVUneaon wrapper. Take no qpier.
<a»4. miahUL of, nut Ilona, sa
■ ■
ftffißS
“* JBy ttl* w*r or Ho**rtt«r’s Skomaah BlUeia
tjx- Hip*tws id the Oountw
takmwum ®t dyapepUM are
•appiM»t»d bj * tteaUhnw look, and m the
saj.resxtittt:
gWsK%=«i?i
j»wmu*Uo **”* •* Ucathnable
furaUaby al- Unw«>»;aaa2 vAk:a
JUilGEIff'S ROMANCE.
By THOMAS HARDY.
CHAPTER VIII.
Notwithstanding a press of business,
Jim went and did his duty in thankipg the
Baron. The latter saw him in his fishing;
tacklo room, an appartment littered with
every appliance that a votary of the rod
could, require
4 ‘And when is tt>e wedding day to be,
Hayward?” the Baron asked, after Jim had
told him-that matters were settled.
“It is not quite certain yet, my noble
lord,” taid Jim, cheerfully. “But I hope
’twill not be long after the time when God
A’niighty christens the little apples.”
“And when is that?’
“St. H with in’s—the middle of July. ’Tis
to l>c some time in that month she tells
me.”
W] fen Jim was gone the Baron seemed
meditative. He went out, ascended the
mount, and entered the weather-screen,
as though, re enacting in his fancy tiie
scene of that memorable morning of fog.
He turned his eyes to the angle of the
shelter, round which Alargery had sudden
ly appeai'ed like a vision, and it was plain
that he won <1 not have minded her appear
ing there then, lue juncture bad indeed
bei n such a i irapres ive and critical one
that she mu-t ba.'e seemed rather a heav
enly messenger than a passing milkmaid,
more especially to a man like the Baron,
who, despite the mystery of his origin and
life, revealed himself to be a melancholy,
emotional character—the Jacques of this
forest and stream.
Behind the mount the ground rose yet
higher, ascending to a plantation which
sheltered thj house. The Baron strolled
up here, and bent his gaze over the dis
tance. The valley of the Sweun lay be
fore him, with its shining river, the brooks
that fed it. and the brimming carriers that
fed the brooks. The situation of Mar
gery’s house was visible, though not the
house itself ajfd the Baron gazed that way
for an infinitely long time, till, remember
ing himself, he moved on.
Instead of returning to the house he went
along the ridge till he arrived at the verge
of Chillington Wood, upd in the 'jßame des
ultory manner roamed , under tbe-troes, not
pausing till he had come to Three-Walks
End, and the hollow ehn hard by. He
peeped In at theril’t. In the soft dry layer
•of wood dust that Moored the hollow, Mar-
gery’s tracks were still visible, as she had
made them' there whev dressing fuf the
bait , '
“Little Margery!” murmured the Baron.
In a moment ho thought better of this
mood, and turned to go home. But be
hold, a form stood behind him -that of the
girl whose name bad boen’on his lips.
Shd was in utter confusion. “I—l-dl 1
not know you were lie re, sir!” she began.
“1 was out for a little walk.” She could
getuo farther; her eyes tilled with tears.
That spice of w illfulness, even hardness,
which characterized her in Jim’s company
magically disappeared in the proseuco of
the Barou.
“Never mind, never mind,” said ho,
masking under a aeverc manner whatever
. he felt, “The meeting is awkward, and
ought not to have occurred, ettpecialiy if,
us 1 suppose, you ore shortly to be married
to James Hayward. But it can not be
helped now. You had no idea I was here,
of course. Neither had 1 of Hieing you.
Remember, you can not be too careful,”
continued the Baron, in the same grain
tone; “und I strongly request you as a
friend to do your utmost to avoid meetings
like this. When you saw me before I
turned, .why did ypu not go away?"
“I did not - see you sir. I did not think
of soring you. I was walking this way,
’uud 1-only looked.in to see the tree.”
‘•That Glows you have been thinking of
• tiling you should not think of,” returned
the Baron. “Uikhl morumg.”
Margery could answer nothing. A brow
beaten glance, almost, of .misery, was all
she gave him. He took a slow step awnv
from her, then turned suddenly back and,
stooping, impulsively her cheek,
taking her m- much by surprise as ever a
woman was UUtert in her life.
after ho went off with a
flushed face and rapid strides, which he
did uot chock till ho was within his own
boundaries.
’ilia hay making season new set in vig
oromdy, end the woir-Uut ihes were all
d wn in th.» meads to drain o I the water.
The carrier, ran thainselvee dry, end there
was no longer any cbdicul- yin walking
about among them. Tas Baron could
ery well witncst from the elevations
about bis house the activity which fol
‘ k»wel Utes' j rsummaries. Ihn white
I shirt sleeves of the mowers glistened in
thc'sun, the scythes ' ashed, voices eehofsl,-
‘ Mi Uebei oi eoog soate.l about, ami tbs rt>
were glimpses of red wagon-whee’s, pur*
> pie gowns, and many-coioi jJ haudker
' chiefs.
J . Ths Baron had been toil that the hay
*i ranking wa- to lie followed by the wvd
. ‘ ding, and had he gone down to the dairy
he woula have £ plenty oJ evldtuiw
to that 'Dairyman Tueker’i house
was in a a.tdripcxst of butde. and among
other di.lJculra-s w»* tt>*t of turning the
•: i heese room into a genteel ap -.runout for
Sue tune being, nnd hiding the uwkwanl
iw of haying to pn.s through t e mi.k-
! house to get to the ;*arl<jr do >r. ih> hoase-
Imid vi ntrivanfs avpoate i to interest
much in-a-e than the grvat ques
ti n of d:v-v<i>’g f >r the ceivenvny and the
i cvrvmony it*>lf. In all r.luting to that
tUethowed an indescribable uackwardneas,
wl i ii later m was well rememlaired.
I "if it were caly somebody else, and I
w.v one of the teid’-in-od*, 1 ready thick
I J «hon)d like it tester ” aba murmured, oue
; aiternteMs.
I “Away with ywo—that's only your
. said one o< tin? tn I mevl*
I His said ab>mt thts time toe Haren
voesued to feel lb* «'wfe ot aohtuye
• strongly. SoiltuAe revives ths abnidc in-
I suucts of primitive maa, iu»d kuiojy coun-
I try nocks, afford rich soil fur wayward
jem .>ti<M*a Moreover, >d!et»e»* waters those
• unvonuaewed u»pub«« which a ehort Mrawn
’ct tormotl wojM tamp out. It u ditdvult
i to apeak with an* exarinvas of she bearing
• auctr-rt-nttliwa «mi th* mind of the
Itxron- j£ auln’of to little was »ver
i'n »W*v~ ten User* ia w»di.wb* that
*■ A* ■ - ** Fdiv **.-*^s it T mu-
Douglasville, C eorgia, Tuesday, February 171885.
vTJlaai, without reference to Tier ranEbr
quality, or to t! question whether she
would marry Jim Hayward that summer. !
She was the single lovely human thing
within bis present horizon—for W lived in
absolute seclusion—and her ; ttiage junduly >
affected him.
But leaving conjecture, let us state what
happened. One Satuiilay evening, tw& or
three weeks after his accidental meeting
with her in the wood, he wrote the note
following; , ,
“Dear Margery,—You ruust not suppose
that because I spoke somewhat severely to
you at our chance encounter by the hodow
tree, I have any feeiing against you. Ear
from it. Now as over I have the most
grateful sense of your considerate kindness
to me on a momentous occasion which snail
Le nameless.
“ You solemnly promised to come and see
me whenever 1 should send f< r you. Can
you call for five minutes as soon as possible
a,id disperse those plaguy gio-ms from
whi> hlam so unfortunate as to sutler? If
you refuse 1 will not answer tor the colise
quem es. I shall be in the summer shelter
on the mount to-morrow morning at half
past ten. If yon come I shall be grateful.
I have also something for you.
“ lours, X.”
In keeping with the tenor of this epistle
the desponding, self-oppressed Baron as
cended the mount on Sunday morning and
sat down. There was nothing here to ex
actly signify the hour, but before the
church bells had began he heard somebody
approacuing at too back. The light foot
step movel timidly, first to o ie and
then to another; then to the third,
where he sat in the shads. Poor Margery
stood before him
She looked worn and weary, and her
little shoes and the skins of her dress were
covered with dust. The weather was sul- ,
try, the sun being alrea ly high and power
ful, and ram had not fallen for weeks. |
The Baron, who walked little, ba 1 thought
nothing of the effects of this heat and
drought in inducing fatigue. A distance
which had been but a reasonable exercise
ou a foggy morning was a drag for Mar
gery now. She was out of breath: and
anxiety, even happiness, was written on
her everywhere.
He rose to his feet and took her hand.
He was vexed, viitl; himself at sicht of her.
“My dear little girl!” he said. “You are
tired—you should hot have come.”
“You sent for me, sA*; and I was afraid
you were ill; and my promise to you was
sacred."
He bent over her, looking upon her
downcast fa •«, still holding her hand;
then he dropped it and took a pace or two
backward.
“it was e. whim, nothing irfopo,” ho said, ’
sadly. “I wanted to see my little friend,
to express good wishes, and to present her
with this." He hold forward a small mc
rtX'co ease, and showed her how to open it,
disclosing a pretty locket, sot with pearls.
“It is intou<l(wl as a wedding present,” he
continued. “To here, urned to me again if
you do not marry Jim t ats summar—it is to
bo this summer, I trnnki?”
“It was, si;',” oho said, with agitation.
“But it is so no longer. And therefore I
cun not take this.”
“vVhat do you say?’
“It was to havo been to-day, but) now it
can not be.”
“The wedding to-day—to-day 1” he cried.
“We fixed Sunday not to hinder much .
time at this busy season of the year,” to
plied she.
“ .'aid have you then, put it off—surely
not’"
“You Sent for me, and I have come,"
she answered, humbiy, like an obediest fa
miliar in too employ of some great enchan
ter. Indeed, the Barva s power over thi*
innocent girl was curiously Lk > enchant
ment, or mesmeric iuCuamsv It was so
masterful tuat the sexual element was al
most eliminated. It Wus that of ’Pnx»pwo
over the gentle /VrieL .And yet U was,
probably only that of the cu»aiopolite ovev
the recluse, of the expu.-iou.ed mon ovw
the simple maid.
“You have come on your wedding day!
Oh, Margery, this is a mistake. Os oour*a
you should nov hive obeyel me, sino»,
though I thought your wedding would be
soon, I-did not know it was to-uay.”
“1 promised you, sir; and I would rathei
keep uiy promise to you than be married
to Jim.”
“MarijNy, that must not be—the feeling
is wrong!" lie inur.: ured, ItHikbi*’ at th-s
distant it dis. seems to lie a fate in
a l tme. I ge out of uto frylug-pun into
the !»r* What a te»ouvpim'o fur year
goodness!* T fact is. i was out o( heaitb
a'-d put of sp rit*, so M-But no more c.t
that. Now tiAsntiy to rvp* ir this tre
uiendous blutiilrr toa» >o have mate-
■ that’s the queu’d- n.”
A ter a pan 1 -*, he went on hurrliljf,
“K jUx down the hul. g-t iut > ths roa L
tJy that time 1 shall I-a there will a
pka-Uio. Mfc ma» get ba k in ti.ee.
W£;at tirr.e is it nowj if not. no dnnM
th& tantding can be tomoyow; so all w II
come right agaiiu Jxort cry, my d>\r
girl. K#?p tie locket, of co arm— you'll
marry Jrm.”
IX.
IT« haste sc I d&wu towari stables,
and she went on®t< directed It wMtnea a«
if iiv ni'islhave put j. tda lu>r e aimsd'. -o
qttii'iily did tie re-appuar w.tli the puaetoa
<'n the tpra roa.t >»»- r g*ry * ieiit!y took
her *wdL and th i Tarim -e«a'.-d czt to the
quick ofeth dWf-ft'pixw-’ n»> he notice I t..e
listless in..:.3 ren*e wi;h wbiub she acte L
i‘h;*re was n>4 mu t JUiat in n-r h -rt
La-1 preferred obeying the apparently im
portant mandate ti.at maguiug to t>-coming
Jim*» wife: But tbero was no lessd<>uht that
bad the Boron left her alone ana would
qu.cily a«ve fn*o to tlie altar.
Be drive a|> ig fur.oiufv, in a cloud of
dusK Tlsers » sts ;ut tea to cv; item plate in
that e ui SSuuuay morning—U>« wm-1-
le»» UrM ami fte;<lsq to-s stiaKtUg sunKzut,
toe pause tn human stir. Yet neither of
them Le.d.vi. and t&us they drew near to
tbedairy. fie hrst e&preosed intent ton ha.l
l-en to go indoors with bar. out thi* he
aitsudoued a» impolitic ia the hijb-st de
gree.
“Yoe may b» s-xm enough," lie sail,
springing down, and helping to fottew.
“leJ the truth: lay you ware sent for to
receive a wodduig -rre-at—that i» was a
tutetakoon aty part—a mtvto*e on yours;
aud 1 think the. 11 forgive. ♦ ♦ • Ami.
Margery, my isst repieet to you is com:
that if I a»wi jMtoMKt again, vou no nw
~aw.ea -**.
thaT any such request Tull ou uirfieedeiT.”
i Her lips moved, but the promise was not
articulated.. “Oh, sir, I can not promi**
it!” she said at last-
. “But you must; your salvation may de
pend upon it!” he insisted, almost fiercely.
“You don’t know' what I am.”
“Then, sir, I promise,” she replied.
“Now leave ma to myself, please, and I'll
go in-doors and manage matters.”
He turned the horse and drove away,
1 hut only for a little distance. Out of
sight he pulled rein suddenly. “Only to
go back and propose it to her, and she’d
coma," ise niurmured. ,
Ke stood up in the phaeton, and by this
means he could see over the hedge. Mar
gery still sat listlessly in the same place:
there was not.a lovelier fipwer in the field.
“No,” he said; “no, no—never!” He re
seated bimsjlf, end the wheels sped
lightly back over the sort dust to Mount
Lodge
Meanwhile Maiqjery had not moved. If
the Baron could dissimulate on the side of
severity she could dissimulate on the side
of calm. He did .not know what had been
veiled by the quiet promise to manage mat
ters in-doors. Hiring at length she first
turned away from the house; and by-and
by, having apparently forgotten till then
that she carried it in her hand, she opened
tiie cose and looked at the looket. This
seemed to give her courage. Bhe turned,
set her face toward the dairy in good earn
est, and though her heart faltered when
the gates came in sight, she kept ou and
drew near the door.
On the threshold she stood listening.
The house was silent. Decorations were
visible in the passage, and also the car-.:
fully swept and saudeu path to the gate,
which she was to have trodden as a bride;
but the sparrows hopped over it as if it
were abandoned; and all appeared to have
been cheeked at its climacteric, like a clock
stopped on the strike. Till this moment of
| confronting the suspended animation of
the scene she had not realized the full
shock of the convulsion which her disap
pear a 1 e must have caused. It is quite cer
tain—apart from her own repeated assur
ances to that effect in later years—that in
bostsning off that morning to her sudden
engagement, Margery had not counted the
cost of such an enta rprise; while a dim no
tion that she might get back again
in time for thv ceremony, if the
message meant nothing serious, should
also be mentioned in her favor. But
upon the whole she had obeyed the call
with an unreasoning obedience, worthy of
a disciple in primitive times. ‘ A conviction
that the Baron’s life might depend upon her
presence—for she had b.’ this time divined
the tragical even', she bad interrupted on
, the fkjiav pmriuug—took from twr all will
to judge and’consider calmly. The simple
afTi'irs of her and hers seemed nothing bo
aide th* possibility of harm to him.
A woil-knawu step moved on the sanded
floor within, and she went forward. IT at
she saw her father s fa •« before her, just
within the door, oan hardly bo said; it was
rather Reproach and Rage in a bcriun
mask.
“What! ye have dared to come back
alive, hussy, to look upon the dupery you
have p: a tlced on honest people! You’ve
mortified us all. I don’t want to see ye;
. 1 don’t want to hear ys; I don’t want to
Know anything!” He walked up and down
the room, unable to command himself.
“Nothing but being dead could have ex
cused ye for not meeting and marrying
that man Uns morning; aaX yet you have
Um brazen impudence to stead there as well
a* ever 1 Wfcsst be you bore ror<"
“Pre come back to marry Jim, if be
wants me to," she said, faintly. “And d
not, perhape so muob the better. I wai
sent for this morning early. I thought—"
She halted. To say that sbs bad thought
a man’s death might Happen by bis own
haul if she did not go to b<m, would never
do. “I was obliged to go," Um said. “I
had given ray word."
“vVby didn’t you tell us then, so that the
wedding could bo put off, without making
fuels o’ us?"
“Because I waa afraid you wouldn’t let’
me go, and I liad mode up my mind to go. ”
“To go where I"
She was sileot, till sbs said, “I will toll
Jim all, and why it was; and if he's any
friend of mine bo'U excuse mn"
“N-gj Jim-he’s no such fool. Jim had
put alLariv for you. Jhn had called at your
houro, a dressed up in bis now wedding
clothei. and a smiling like the sun; Jim hail
told the paraon, bail got the ringere in tow,
and the ch rk a waiting, and than—you was
yoa*/ Then Jim turned as pale as rondle
woqd, and butted cut, ‘lf slw don’t marry
)r< t’-«l iy, a sai 1, ‘she don't marry rnc at
ail! Bo;jet he* look elsewhere tor a hus
butriL rpr two years I’ve put up with her
hontis'n tri M a.id "her tazin js,’ ’a ta d.
•I’ve <bK>u!gel and I’ce traipsed, I’ve
bought and I've sold, ell wl’ an eye to
b -r; I’ve sfi'erud b >r*s.iesh,’ he says—y<w.
them was h‘s noble words—'but I’ll
suffer it uo longer, tine shall go!’ ‘Jim.’
rays I. -you be a man. If she’s alive. I
eomm*nd ye; if she s dead, I pity my old
ate.’ ‘She IWt dead,’ says he; ‘for liu
ju t Irani she was e'ea traj&lug off acro.’e
the fields this looking a!l of a
s xr-nful triumph.’ fie turned yound nod
went, and the rest .ts the neigh bore we.rt ;
ar.d here Im I left to the reproueh o’t."
“He was thaha.-dj'’’ murmured Margery.
“For now *aid this, I can’t marry hi>«
to-m- ryow, as I might ka’ done; and per
hups so much tiie better. *
• You can bo so calm about it, can yei
Be rap- arrangem uts nothing, then, that
y m should break c.n up, and say off-hand
what wasn't done to-d.iy might ba been
dme to morrow, aid such flfck-fiackf Out
o’ my sigiA! I won’t hear any more. 1
won’t spo>;k to ye any more.’’
"11l go away, and then you’ll be sorry.”
“Yury weL, go. Borry—not 1."
He turned and stamped bis way into the
cbeeue room. Margery went up-stairs.
Sine, too, waj excited now, aul in-teoti ot
fortifying herself in her beu-room till ter
lathers rage hsri blown orer, as she bud
uiten dons on lesse.- eccwsi uq she packed
u; n bundle o£ articles, crept dbwn again,
and went out of ths bon-a bhe had a
pia e <-£ refuge in these <asas ot neoesrity,
and her father knew it, and was Ira
alarmed at seeing her depart than he might
titasrwue have been. ThU place was
iVkA's Gate, the I sum of her graad
xnothe,-. WHO aiwajw took Margery's part
when teat young woman wm par I Sauter ly
in the wrong.
The devious way*..»be pursetd te avoid
the vicinity of Mount wm tedious,
and she was already weary But the eot-
L arrire at. lor
Subscription • Si.oo Cnab Per Annum.
sns was tfer owii mistrreJiS"there—her grantT
mother never coming downstairs—and Edy,
the woman who lived with and attended
her, being a cipher except in muscle and
voice. The approach was by a straight,
open road, bordered by thin, lank trees, all
sloping away from* the southwest wind
quarter, aud the scene I ore a strange re
semblance to certain bits of Dutch land
scape which have been imprinted in the
world’s eye by Hobbena and his school.
Having explained to her granny that the
wedding was pat off, and that she had
come to stay, oiie of Margery’s first acts
was to carefully pack up the locket and
case, her wedding present from the Baron.
The condit-ons of the gift were unfulfilled,
and she wished it to go back instantly.
Perhaps in the intricacies of her bosom
there lurked a greater satisfaction with the
reason for returning the present than she
would have felt just t .eu with a reason for
keeping it.
To send the article was difficult. In the
evening she wrapped herself up, searched
aud found a gauze veil that had been used
by her grandmother in past years for hiv
ing swarms of bees, buried her face in it,
and sallied forth with a palpitating heart
till she drew near the tabernacle of her
demi-god the Baron. She ventured only
to the back door, where she handed in the
par eel addressed-to him, and quickly catni
away.
Now it seems that during the day the
Baron had been unable to learn the result
of bis attempt to return .Margery in time
for the event he had interrupted. Wishing
for obvious reasons, to avoid direct inquiry
by messenger, and being too unwell to gi
far himself, he couid learn no particulai's.
lie was sitting in thought attorn lonely
dinner, when the parcel intimating failure
was Drought in. The footman, whose curi
osity had been excited by the mode of its
arrival, peeped through the keyhole after
closing the door, to learn what the packet
meant. Directly the Baron had < pen ? I
it be thrust out bis feet vehemently from
his chair, and began cursing his ruinous
conduct in bringing about such a disaster,
for the return of the locket denoted nut
only no wedding that day, but none to
morrow, or at any time.
“I have done that innocent wmnan a
great wrong!” he murmured. “Dei-nved
her of, perhaps her only opportunity of be
coming mistress of a happy hoaia:”
CHAPTER X.
A considerable period of inaction fol
lowed among all conon ned.
Nothing tended to dissipate the obscurity
which veiled the life of the Baron. Thu
position he occupied in the minds of the
country folk around was one which com
bined the mysteriousness of a legendary
character with the unobtrusive deeds of a
modern gentleman. To this day whoever
takes ths Trouble to-go dqwn to Stickleford
and makr inquiries will find existing there
almost a superstitious feeling for the
moody, melancholy stranger w!k» ru.viiled
in the Lodge some forty years ago.
Whence he came, whither he was going,
were alike unknown. It was said that hU
mother had been an Eng'ish lady of nobb>
family who had married a foreigner not
unheard of in circles where men pile up
"the eankared heaps of strange achieved
gold,” that he ha t been born and educated
in England, taken abroad, mnl so on. Bat
the facta ot a life in eueh cases are of little
account beside the aepeat of a Use: and
hence, though doubtlasß the years of his ex
istence eonteinad their share of tr.te and
homely cireuiiMUtaee, the our,ain which
maskvd all this was never lifted to gratify
such a theater of spectators as those at
Stickleford. Therein lay his riiarm. His
life wm a vignette, of wrindi the cenual
strokes only were drawn wito any d*rtiiu»r
nees. the envirumneut suadiug uwuy to a
blank.
He might have b-ieu said to resemble
that s->litor/ bird, toe iuro.l. The still,
lonely stream was his frequent haunt; on
its banks he would stand for hours with bis
rod, looking into the water, beholding the
tawny inhabitants with the eye of a phi
losopher, and seeming to say, “Bite or
don’t bite—its all too same to me." He
was of tea mistaken for a ghost bv chil
dren, and for a poulard wiSk>w by mni,
wh.n on thrir way home at dnak, tae-y
saw him tn <tchiliss by soma rushy tank,
unobservant of the decl.no vt day.
Why <lul hi vomo to fti-h at Hiickleford?
T(in;w-M never explained. A« far as was
kao«n he nod no relatives near; theiisning
there was not oxcopiimmßy good; the s>
ciet-y thereabout was decidedly msegte.
1 hat lie ha I uummllted some i’olty or hasty
a<t. that he had l»een wrocgfnHy ikscumil
of sum : crime, thus re ndering his seclusion
from fit: world desirable for a while,
squared very well wiih hisf«>>u«ut mei.'ui
chol-y. But such as i* wm, there hs livvd,
well Wipplied tlAcriwg tackte, and tea
ant of a furnished house, just suitxl to the
rojulramcate ot such ao eccensrie being us
be.
Margery’s father, having privately ascer
tained toat *be was living with her grand
raether, and geWSm; into no burnt r«-c
frai-.ted from communicaiing with h*r, la
the hope of her cemrioe at hit door.
It had, ot ojuiwe, become ku-owa alioat
Stickleford time at the lost moment Mar
gery refused to w->l Hayward, by atawvrt
iag hersilf fn.-i sh-? borss. Jim was
pllio-l. yet not pitied inuco. for ft war said
t sit be ought not to have Loen so eager
for a womaa who iw»<l showu no anxiety
for han.
And where was Jim Jtftinwtff It must
not be supposed that ts»t ncflcfaa Inti all
this while witadrawn from mortal aye to
tear his hair ia silent indig-iatkon end de
i-pair. He had, in truth, merely retired up
the k»nowor.T» de'le tn>wecn the downs to
hj» s hould- ring ki n. and the ancient ram
parts above i-; ai l there, after his first
hour* of nat-sra! dvaoiaposure, he qufeUy
waited for overtures from the
Margery. But no overtures or
rv.ed, and tlien he meditated a.-.ew on tt?s
absorbing p-Tjbtem of her sxitt>«iiae«s. and
bow to set about another campaign far fasr
conquest, notwlih-tanUng bj late dria»-
trous failure. Why bud be falieH ‘So
what wax her strange cccditot 7L'*t
was the thi’.g which i>*xried h-1.-rx
Ha had made no advance in tfce
riddle wht-H, one mentlng, a stot- igv *>•
deared ob the d« v* ab-iva bftn, bwling M
i. he bad kwt fns wwy. The man had a
good daak of bTe ’k hMv brtow Ms frit TiaE,
and rareied awdwr h’e «i~a a enaa eoatwfn-
L.r a m -.ekal tartrnnt*nt. to
where Jim st<* 4, »v arir*d It, wsm not
a *iATt~cut are.ri«'that wry s■>
.gaa, tall “tut
cis an enormous distance foY ye.”'
“Oh, .yes,” replied the musician. “I
wish to intercept the carrier on the high
way.”
The nearest way .was precisely in the di
re.'tion of Rook’s Gate, where Margery, as
Jim knew, was staying. Having some
time to spare, Jim was strongly irapelie,!
to make a kind act to the lost- musi iaA a
pretext for taking, observations in that
neighborhood, and telling his ac juaintan re
that he was going the same way, he started
without further ado.
They skirted the long length of meads,
and in due time arrived at the back of
Kook’s Gate, where the path • joined the
high-road. A hedge divided the public
way from the cottage garden. Jim drew
up at this point and said. “Your road is
straight on; I turn back here.”
But the musician was standing fixed, as
if in great perplexity. Thrusting his hand
into his forest of black hair, he murmured,
“Surely it is the same—surely I”
Jim. following the direction of his neigh
bor’s eyes found them to l>e fixed ou a fig
ure till that moment hidden from himself
—Margery Tucker—who was crossing the
garden to an opposite gate with a little
cheese in her arms, h r heal thrown back,
and her lace quite exposed.
“What of her?” said Jim.
“Two months ago I formed one of the
i band at the Yeomanry Ball given by Lord
| Blakemore. I saw-that ybmig lady dancing
1 the polka .there in robes of gunzo and lace.
Now I tee her carry a cheese!”
■"“Never!” said Jim. in TeJalously.
“But I d;> not mistake. I say it is so!”
Jim ridiculed the id-a; the bandsman
protested, and was about to lose his temper,
whan Jim gave in with the good-nature of
a person who can atford.to despise opinion i;
and the musician went his way.
As be dwindled out of sight Jim began
to think more carefully over want he had
said. The young man’s thoughts grew
quite to an excitement, for there camo into
his mind the Baron s extraordinary kind
■ nesi in regard to furniture, hituert > ac
counted for by the assumption that the
nobleman had taken a fancy to hl n. Uohld
it be, among all the amazing things of life,
that the Baron was at the bottom of this
mischief, uu l that he had umuaud himself
by taking Margery to a bull?
Doubts and suspicions, which distract
some lovers to imbecility only servo 1 to
bring out Jim’s great qualities. Whore
ho trusted he was the most trusting fel
low i,i tiie world; whole he doubted he
could be guilty of tiie slyest strategy.
Once suspicious, he became ono of tho-ni
subtle, watchful characters who, wittout
inteip'ity, make good thieves; with a little,
good jobbers; with a great de-d, mastin'
p diticians. Jim was honest, and he con
sittared what to do. __ . _
Gbo bad gone in; but the would soon ro
appear, far it could Im seen that the wom
carrying litUe new cteesoe one by one to &
spring caj t and borsv tethered outside the
gate—her grandiu >ther. though not a regu
lar-dairy woman, still uia.iagioga few cows
by m -uns of a man uu l intiid. With the
iigntiioss of neat Jim crept round to the
gale, took a piece of fflialk from his po-Icet,
and wrote upon toe bonding “'Ami /Areva”
Then he retr.-ate I to the other side of Che
ganl n where ho had just watched
gery. **
In due time -ho emerged with another
little cheese, <a ue ou to the garden door,
aud glanced upon the chalked words which
confronted her. She started; the chee»»
rolled from her armi to the ground, and
broke into ple-es like a pudding.
Nhe looked fearfully round, her face
burning like sunset, aad, seeing nobody,
stooped to pick up the ftaodid IctnK Jim,
with a p«l-> face, dea-orte-l as mmibly as
he hat cuim. Ho Lua pruvixi Uw basels
maju’e tale to be trua On bis way ba< bho
formed a r solution. It wm to beawd ftte
lion in hta den —to call on the Baron.
MeanwMile Margery had recovered her
equanimity, and gathered up the broken
cheexe. But she could *by no raeun.< mu
oount lor the h oi-lwri. »ng. Jim was put
the sort <>[ tel .i w to play her such a trick
at ordfe*ry t<iu&. but sue imagined liku to
to far too i K-v-nsed nguij'.st her to -lo it nov;
ujil she.so.idcH.lv won*! vre i if it were any
sure of s.g-xni from the Baron himself.
Os bbn she had laiely iteacd nothing. If
ever monotony jKirvaded a lire it pervaded
tore at Ro’-k sGa e; a.id she had begup to
ilespair of any happy chang*. Sok H le
pre-wely when the eoual atmosphere seems
s.ft,maiit that griat events are brewing.
ktarg» r/’s quiet was broken tiret, as we
have Been, by a allgnt atal*t> only su licient
to make her drop a obeese; and then by a
more serious m liter.
Bbo was inside the same garden one day,
when »hj heard two watermen talki-ig
without. Ths conversation was to the ef
fect that the strange gentle tun who had
taken Mount Lodge for tiie season was
seri-msly ill.
‘ Eow ills” cried Sfar rery through the
beige, which screens.l usr iio.ii recogni
tion
“Bal aked,” said one of the
“iadauunntiou of the said the ,
other.
“Oat wet, fishing,” the first chimed in.
luarg ry could gathar no mire. An
ids.d udmiraMou rathe;- than any positive
p&ibMn e.rw*el iu hur breast fur ths Baroa;
she Lad of late «eu«i too Little of him to al
low aay incipient views of him as a loyer
to grow to formidabie diiucaeiOM. It was
an estramolv pure and romasftlc feeling,
delicate ae au ar onia, capalda ot quiuken
ing to au active pciuciplc, or dying to “a
pmntess sympathy,” ar tho case might be.
This nows of Ids illness, coupled with the
mysteriotis chalking ou the gate, troubled
her, anl revived fits image much. Hh'o
toik to walking un and -bwo the garden
.pith*, looking Ini j tua hearts of flowers,
and not thinking what they were His
last rojuoa: bid been that she tew not to
go to him if ta shuul 1 s.-nd for her; and
new she asUed noreelf was the name on the
jiizj a bint to enable her to go wUbout
in ringing th.- lotto;- of her oroaurai Thus
unaspe.-teily hud Jim's muaoiuvre oper
ated.
Ten days passed. All rh» could hear of
the Baron were tho sane words, “bad
ausd,” ti l oite oftemom aiur a gallov ot
the physician to t m tee Udtags
spread Use Hgirtotog was
Mar gun- d sHcMaed herteif te'h tee «|oea
te» wfiaQur she cnigfi* Ms pseurtteod to
virit SmiMod say bar poayam «a tee baa
s«k v bat Bte fterafi to aid teae
hegr- »r*jwa a«ay, and.
t^<—" •r;-, " 1. D -he • sLLscta