Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

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