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The House on Marsh ~m»— THE MYSTERY OF THE ALDERS *r rukuorca wAwsn. CHAPTKH IX Mr. Rfcade's cruel and prejudiced ac cusations against Mr. Ravner had not In th ieast shaken my faith in the kind ness of the master of the Alders; but I fait anxious to Provo to myself that the charges brought against him were groundless. Mr. Reade's suggestion that he let his family sleep in t.ie damp house while he passed his nights else where, for instance, was absurd in the extreme. Where else could he sleep without any one’s knowing anything about it? I often heard h& voice and step about the house until quite late: he was always one of the first in the dining-room to oar eight o’clock breakfast, and even the wettest mornings he never looked as if ne had been out in the rain. It often seems to me that when I have puzzled myself a longtime over some matter I find out in some simple man ner what I wish to know. Thus the day after my talk with Mr. Rende in the shop Haidefc said to me: “Do you ever have horrid dreams, Miss Christie, which frighten you and then come true?” “No, darling; dreams are only fancies, you know, and nevercontinue, except just by accident” She went on gravely: “But mine do. ill tell yon about one I had two nights ago. if vou'll bend your head and let me whisper. You won’t telL will youP” “No, darling, I won’t tell," said L She put her little hand up to my cheek, and, drawing down roy face to hers, breathed into my ear In the very faintest, softest whisper I have ever heard: “Yon know that day when we took ym up to your new room in the tur. ret?" 1 ‘Yes, dear,’’ said L “Hush! Whisper,” cooed she. “Well, that night Jane put me to bed, and then I went t* sleep just like I al ways do. And then I drcnmed that I heard mamma screaming and crying, and papa speaking—oh, o differenlfy from the way b: generally does; it la my V made me frighten^} In my ’dream! I thought it was all real and" I tried to get out of bed; but I was too much asleep: and when I woke up I remem- I bered it I didn't tell anyliody; and the next night 1 wondered if I should hare the dream again, and I didn’t want Jane to go away; and, when I I said it was because I’d had a dream, I she said dreams were stuff and non sense, and she wanted to go end dream 1 at haring supper. And then she went ^ away, and I went to sleep. And then I woke up because mamma was cry- | ing, and I thought at first it wa» my dream again; but I knocked my head 1 against the rail of my bed, and then I knew I must be awake. And I got out of bed, and I wont quite softly to the door and looked through the key-hoi*, for there was a iteht in her room. When she has a light, I can ace in Quite plain ly through the key-hole, and I can see the bed and her lying in it But she wasn't alone like she generally is—I could sec papa's band holding the can dle, and he was talking to her in such a low yoice; but she was crying and talking quite wildly and strangely so that she frightened me. When she talks like that I feel afraid—it doesn't seem as if she were mamma. And then I saw papa put something on her face, and mamma said: ‘Don’t—don’tl Not that!’ and then she only moaned, and then she was quite still, and. I heard him go out of the room. And presently I ealied: ‘Mamma, mamma!’ but she didn’t answer; and I was so frightened, I thought she was dead. But then I heard her sigh like she al ways does in her sleep, and I got into bed again.” “tVere you afraid to go in, darling?” “I couldn’t go in, because the door wa* looked. Ft always is, you know. I never go Into mamma’s room; I did only once, and she said”—and the child's soft whisper grew softer still, and she held her tiny lips closer to my ear—“she said I w"s3 never to say any thing about it—and I promised; so I mustn't even to you. Miss Chrisde, tear You don’t mind, do you, be muse I promised?” “No, darling, I don't Of course you must not tell il you promised," said I. But I would have given the world to know what the child had seen in that mysterious room. Hsldee s strange story aroused In me the old feeling that a mystery of some kind was hanging over the household, {remembered the talk I had had with Mr. Raynor, ehortly after my arrival. In which he told me of the great change In hie wife, caused by the death nf her son, and mentioned the out. breaks which sometimes oeused him “the gravest anxiety." I had under stood then that he feared for his wife’s ros-jon, but not haying seei any out breaks, and in fact having seen very little of her except st meals, this idea had faded from my mind. Now Haidee’s story made me wonder If there were not an undercurrent in the affairs of the household which I had not sus pected. What if Mr. Rayner, cheer ful as he alwaye seemed, was laboring under the burden of a wife liable at any time to break out into wild Insanity. It med he had for two nlghte to wrestle secret with moods of wild walling. Which ho at first tried to deal with by gentle remonstrance and at last had to subdue by sedatives. And then a suggestion came to me which might explain Sarah's Important position in the household. W as she fead “Adam Bede ■ aroud to nm m the drawing-room, the t-arful excitement into which apparently without any cause, she had falien, ’'which her hi bands entrance had as suddenly sub. for the time; for how f J n "hat had followed when he W which'' aWa L lnt ° that ^d-roomof here which was begmning to have for me the fascination of a haunted chara- The immediate resu’t of the child’* confidences to me was a great increase of my love for snd interest in herself. We became almost inseparable in and out of sohoo! hours; I encouraged her to talk; and sho sw n fell into the habit of telling me, whether I was listening ° r , 11,0,0 rambling stories vhich have no beginning, no sequence and no end, which are the solace of chil<m*n who have no companions of their own age. And sometimes she would say: “Let us sing. Miss C hristie and I would sing some bal lad w hue she would coo an irregular out not inharmonious accompaniment And we were occupied in this fashion, sitting at the open window one after noon, when Mr. Ravner appeared in the garden. “Go on, go on; I have been listening to the concert for ever so ion o', it is as pretty as birds." But of course we comd not go on in the face of such a critical condition; so Mr. Rayner, after complaining that he had taken a ticket for the series, told me more seriously that I had a pretty voice, asked me why I did not take I’ ,t y on their dullness and come into the drawing-room after tea sometimes and sing to them. He said: “What do you do every evening after slipping off to your turret chamber?” To which I replied: “•I do my tasks and read something improving, and then I sit in one of my arm-chairs and just think and enjoy myself.” 1 “Well, we are not going to let you en l°y yourself up there while we are moped to death down-stairs; so to- night, vou may just come and share our dullness in tho drawing-room.” So after tea Mr. Rayner got out his violin, and I sat down to the piano; and wo played first some German popular songs and then a long succession of the airs, now lively, now pathetic, now dramatic and passionate, out of the old operas that have delighted Europe for years. Mr. Rayner played with the fire of an enthusiast, and again I caught the spirit of his playing, and accom panied him, he said, while his face shone with the ecstacy of the musician, as no one had ever accompanied him before. When we had finished, and Mr. Ray ner was putting his violin Into its case, he suddenly discovered that a corner of the l itter was damp. “This will never do,” he exclaimed, I might os well keep It In the garden as In this den,” he went on, quite irri tably for him—“Here, Sarah,” he added. “Take this to my room—mind, very carefully.” So his room could not be damp, I thought, or ho would not allow his precious violin to bo taken there. I had said good-night, and was In the hall, just in time to see Sarah, earning the violin, disappear down the passage, on the rteht hand side of the staircase. When I got to the foot of my turret Staircase, which was only a few steps from the head of the back-staircase that the servant used, I heard Sarah’s quick tread in the passage below, and, putting down mv candle on the ground, I went softly to the top of the stairs—there was a door looked down. I saw Sarah, take a key from her ' pocket and unlock a door near the foot of the stairs. But, as the door went irk on its hinges Sarah took out the " went through, and looked it h*- Knd her, 1 saw that It led, not into a room at all, but into the garden. So far, then, Mr. Reade's guess was right But there still remained the uestion — Where did Mr. Rayner leep? I the Mowing Bight there wat t high wind, which made the door which stood always fastened back at the ton of the kitchen stairs rattle and creat on its hinges. At last 1 could bear thii last sound no longer. I had been sit tmg up late over abook, and I knewthal the household must bo asleep so I slipped down-stairs as softly as I could. I hac got to the top of the back staircase and had my hand on the door, when I san a faint glimmer of light coming along the passage below. 1 heard no sountf I drew back quickly, so quickly that my candle went out; and then 1 waited, with my heart beating fast, not so much to see whe it was, as because I did not dare to move. The faint light cam* along swiftly, and I could ace that il was a shaded lantern, and could jusf distinguish the form of a man carrying it. For the next few moments I scarce ly dared to breathe, and I could al most have given a cry of joy when, by some movement of the head, I recoip nized Mr. Rayner. He did not see me he put the key in the lock, turned it, took the key out, went through and locked it after him so quickly and sc entirely without noise that a moment afterward I could almost have thought that I had imagined the dim scene. It had been so utterly without sound that, if my eyes had been closed, I should have known nothing about It I mad* the door secure with trembling fingers, and went back to mv room again, not only profoundly sorry that Mr. Reudo surm-.se was correct—for I could nc longer doubt that Mr. Raynerdid sice] over the stables—but impressed wi an eerie dread of the man who could move about in the night as noiselessly and swiftly as a spirit When I awoke, however. In th* fresh morning, with the wind gone down, and the sun shining in through my east window, all unpleasant im pressions of the night before had faded away; and, when Mr. Ravner brouglit into the drawing-room after dinner a portfolio full of his sketches and panels, and was delighted with my ap preciation of them—I knew something about pictures, for my father had been a painter—I felt that it was not for me to judge his actions, and that there must be some good motive that I did not know for his sleeping far out of the damp, as for every tiling else that he did. He proposed to paint me. and I gave him a sitting that very after noon in the dining-room, which had a north light, though there was not much of it; and he said that he must finish it next day in his studio, aud, when 1 objected to neglect my lessons again, he said the whole farad 1 looked up and laughed with rather an effort "1? Oh, no! I shouldn't care for diamonds myself; I should look ab surd in them. Diamonds are for great ladies, not for governesses.” “Well, without being a great lady, • f overncss may wear an ornament she as fairly earned, may she not?” ‘‘Yes, if it has been fairly earned," said I, trying to keep up a light ton* I of talk, though my heart was beating fast , “And so you can accept this pretty little thing as the reward of your serv- : ices to a grateful painter and a souvenir cant be dontenteo witn tnrnr own te*- fights. No; I was thinking of some body quite different Can’t you guess whoP In the pquse which followed his words I distinctly heard Mr. Rayner's bright voice saying archly; “Laurence seems to have a great ad miration for our prettv little Miss Chris tie: doesn't he, Mrs. feeade?" I did not hear her answer, but it wa* given in a displeased tone; and a min ute afterward she called her son sharp ly and said they are waiting for him. This was to be a busy week in the parish. The school-treat, was fixed to % should and not the guardian of Mrs. Rayner, s as she would nci d in her husband’s such ab sence if really of feeble intellect? That Mr. Rayner was anxious to keep the seandaf of having a mad wife a secret from the world wa# clear, from the fact that Mr. Laurence Reade, who had taken a peculiar interest in the affairs of the household, had never shown the least suspicion that this was the case. So the secluded life Mrs. Rayner led came to be ascribed to the caprice, or •ome more unworthy motive, of her husband, while the unfortunate man was really not her tyrant, but her vic tim. The only ether possible explanation of what Ilaldee had seen wa* that Mr. Bayner, kind and sweet-tempered to every one as he always was, and out- Wardly geqtle and thoughtful to a touching degree toward his cold wife. Was really the most designing of hypo crites, and wa# putting upon his wife, nnder the semblance of devoted aff o- “°h, a partial restraint which was a* purposeless as it was easy for her to creak through. This idea was absurd. The other supposition, dreadful as it w»*, wa* far more probable. It wa* •‘range that these attacks should occur °“ly at night, I thought at first; but •oen 1 rumciubared the day wk°B 1 .tlAd CHAPTER X It was the elfish baby-girl Mona who first put me on tho track of the solution of the mystery about Mr. Rayner’s room. This ill-cared for little creature Instead of resenting the neglect with which she was treated prized the liber ty of roaming whithersoever she pleased and making herself altogether the dirtiest little girl I had ever seen—at meal times sTie grew hungry and would return to the house of net own accord. The day after tho violin playing was very wet and looking out of the win dow I saw Mona trotting composedly along a path which led to the stables, without a hat through the fast falling rain—I seized an umbrella aud started In pursuit. The stables were built much highei up than the house, close to tho road, but surrounded by trees. I had novel been near them before; but now I fob ’ lowed Mona close underneath the walls. I seized and caught her up in j my arms so suddenly that for the first few moments she was too much sur prised to howl; but I had scarcely turned to take her back to the hous* when she recovered her powers com pletely, and made the plantation ring with a most elfish yell. I spoke to hoi and tried to reason with her, and told her it was all for her good, when one of the upper windows was thrown open, and Mr. Rayner appeared at it “Hallo, what is the matter? Kidnap ping, Miss Christie?” “Oh, Mr. Rayner, she will sit in the mud and open lier mouth to cateh the rain, without a hat, and it can't b« good for her!” I said piteously. “Never mind. It doesn't seem to hurt her. I believe she is half a frog. 1 ' said her father, with less tendernesi than he might have shown, I thought. “But you will get your own feet wet my dear child,*' said he, in quite a dif- of our pleasant morning all together in | take place on Saturday; and the fol- the studio. lowing day was to be the harvest fes- •Ob. no—qh. no—I can t indeed!” tival. The Misses Reade had undertaken - T ' ’.‘Hon the angry with meet of the decoration of the church, as the vicar’s wife had enough to do in preparation for the school-feast and ac companying gale. The next day Haidee and I took a longer walk than usual; and. when we returned,- Jane met me with a mysteri ous air in the hall. “Oh, Miss Christie, young Mr. Reade called while you was out, and asked to see you! He said he had a message for you. And, when I said you was out t’’”?. -IK » e"- r» 3 me, Mr. Rayner; but the very thought of possessing any thing so’ valuable would be a burden to me night and dav.” Mr. Rayner burst into a long lau<rh. “Oh. you simple little creaturef I did not think a London lady would he so unsophisticated as to mistake very ordinary paste for diamonds,” said he, with much enjoyment “This pend ant the enormour value of which here. He turned it over, md I saw on th# back a monogram, and the date 1792. “What are the letters of the mono gram ?’’ I read—“R. G. IX" “ G. D. R.,"’ corrected he—“Ger- vaa D. Rayner—my own initials %nd you; but she wouldn't take no notice " I went up-stairs very much annoyed by this fresh indignity offered me by that hateful Sarah, and hurt and sorry besides, for I was longing to know what the note said. As soon as I got into th* dining-room, however, Mr. Z.. ;# ,vr y T" ‘Tr l nd lUynw came Up to me smilling, and mi TwTsf n i*[ and '!l th * r P n ‘ “ lnto rov han<U- “ . "Here is a oillebs'oux which has been grandmother makes its only value. But I have plenty of relics of her; so you are robbing nobody and pleasing one old friend—I msy call myself an old friend already, may I not?—very much by accepting thia In full fam ily conclave at tea, you shall hear me announce the presentation, and then you will be satisfied, won't you, you modest little girl ?’’ 'f he said the whole lamily i emigrate thither for the morning, then perhaps I should le satisfied. So the next dav, at eleven o'clock, he came into tbe school-room with Mrs. Rayner, who wore her usual air of being drawn into this against, what will she had, and wo all four crossed the garden to the stables, and went up through tho harness-room to the big room over the ooach-honsc, which looked even more comfortable than 1 had expected. For the floor was polished, and there were two beautiful rugs, a handsome tiger-skin, and a still handsomer lioa- skin with the head attached. At on< end of tlie room was a partition, and behind this partition I guessed that Mr. Rayner slept. There was a bright fire burning in the tiled fireplace, and there were soft easy-ehairs rather worn by constant use, but very comfortable, and there were pictures on the walls, and there was a dark carved-oak cabi net full of curious and beautiful things, and a writing-table; and lastly there were the easel and a great confu sion of portfolios and half-finished sketches and studies. Altogether the room contrasted very favorably with tbe moldy-looking drawing-room. Per haps Mrs. Rayner thought so as she sat down, with one eager intent look round the room, as if she had never seen it before; and then, without any remark, she took out her knitting, and worked silently, while I posed again as I had done on the previous day, with my head on one side, and my hands, as’ Mr. Rayner had placed them clasped under my chin, while he painted and talked. After two hours’ work, Mr. Rayner called us to look at his sketch, which represented a very lovely girl with dark gray eyes a little larger than mine, a red-lipped mouth a little smaller, teeth a little whiter, and a complexion a little creamier in the white parts and a little rosier in the re«Lj and the brown hair coiled on the top was just a little glossier and smoother tuan mine ever waa It was just a little like me all the same; and I was rather hurt when Mrs. Rayner summoned spirits enough to say that he had flattered me, although 1 knew it quite well. But Mr. Rayner said that it was impossible for a portrait to flatter a handsome woman, and Mrs. Rayner raised her thin shoulders in a slight shrug and turned to leave the room. “Yon are an excellent model, you sit so still. It is a pleasure to paint you for that and—for other reasons,” said he, slowly and deliberately. “What shall I give vou as a reward for re maining so long without blinking or yawning as ail professional models “Nothing, Mr. Rayner; I like having It done. It flatters one’s vanity to he painted; and flattery is always reward enough for a woman, they say,” said I, laughing and following Haidee to the door. “I shall find something more sub stantial than that,” said Mr. Rayner, in a low voice, as if half to himself, looking up with a very kind smile as I left tile room. That afternoon Haidee had just left the school-room when Mr. Rayner came in. He held in his hand an old and; shabby little case. “The poor painter has not forgotten ; his promise.” said he, with moca bu- i niility “Now see what you have! So I took It with most ungracious feelings, and thanked him as well as I could. True to his promise, Mr. Ray ner said to his wife at tea-time: “I have with the greatest diffleultt prevailed upon this proud Min Christie of ours to accept as a reward of her services as modal a twopenny-half penny trinket, which she almost told mo was not fit to wear—” "Oh. Mr. Ksyneri” Ho was putting such a different oolpr upon my reiuetance, as if I had not thought it good enough. And there 1* a great deal of difference between fif teen shillings and twopcnco-halfpenny. I saw Sarah, who was in the room, look st me very sharply, and Mrs. Ray ner did not look pleased. Altogether, the beautiful ornament that 1 bad admired so much, but cer tainly not coveted, had brought mo more annoyance than pleasure. It procured me one more little trial that very evening. When I got upstairs, I sat down and looked at the ornament. It certainly was very splendid, and I thought, that, if this were paste, and worth only fifteen shillings, it was great waste of money to buy real dia monds, which cost so much more and looked no better. And, as I was hold ing it up to the light, and feeling at last a shrill of pleasure in Its possession, I heard a voice behind me say— “So that's the twopenny-halfpenny trinket, is it?” Of course It was Sarah. She come up to bring me some water, and I had plenty In the lug. I abut up the ease, and said coldly: ‘Of course Mr. Rayner would not give any one a thing which really cost only twopence-half-penny, Sarah.” “ No, miss, not for such services as yours." And she said it in such a nasty tone that, when she had left the room, I threw the case down upon the table and burst into tears. CHAPTER XL I could not understand why Sarah had taken such a strong dislike to me. She was not amiable in her treatment of anybody, but was especially mi nant in bef hatred towards myself, concluded to psy as little attention M iible to her. She had never before in so rude and harsh as the was od this night “ Perhaps I am getting spoiled by the kindness I receive from so many people,” I thought to myself, “and w is well there should be a check upon ray vanity. I suppose 1 ought to be thankful for Saran.” When I bad objected to wearing the dazzling heart with which I bad been presented, because It was too brilliant for a governess, Mr. Rayner had sng- f rated 1 should wear it nnder my res*. 1 was grateful for his kindness, and would have been glad to oblige him, but there were two reasons which prevented me. The first was that it looked as if I were ashamed of it, and the discovery by Mrs. Rayner, or Sarah, for instance, tnat I waa wearing it concealed, would have made me feel guilty and uncomfort able. The other reason we* that I al ready wore around my neek a little case made out of the back of an old parse, and It contained the bit of paper with Mr. Reade’* apotary which I had polled off the rose. Sn I de cided to lock up the sparkling j-endanl in my desk. Mr. Rayner had riven me th* pen dant on Saturday. The next day, when service was over, and we were stand ing about in the churchyard as usual, bedore Mr. and Mrs. Rayner’s depar ture gave Haidee and me the signal to go home, Mr. Laurence Reade left bis party and stood looking at tbe gravb- tdual moving on of left for yon. Miss Christie. Now whom do you expect one from?” “From nobody, Mr. Rayner," aaid L blushing very much. 1 opened it at once to show thatl did not think it of any consequence. It only said: D«*a Miss Omens—Mr •mtem find there IS so much to lie done for tbe eboreb that they *re afni d tbs,- won t be able to do It nil. Mould jou li© ao very k ml as tn un dertake oart/ If you would not mind, I will ride over with the work to-morrow alter luncheon, about a qnartor past two. ‘* Yours sincerely. Laiiulm b Rsana I think 1 was a liiafo disappointed in the note; but it was all the bettor, as 1 could repeat in quite a careless way a*(fat it said; and then, just as I was wondering whether should tear it up to show that I did not care, I saw that there was something —•.•‘♦ton on the in side leaf, and I ’*nt it back inl > the en velope as if I Ji<i not notice what I was doing, and *llp ( iod it into my pocket Dinner was long that day; whin it waa over I wont into school-room a,,d drew out my letter again. The words on the inside leaf were: “ Why were yon so unkind on Sun day?" 1 had no way of sending book an answer; l could only wait till next day at a quarter past two. But I think I could have sung through tho lessons like the heroine of an opera that after noon. I had not thonght it neoessary to mention to Mr. Rayner the time at which Mr. Reade had said he should bring the work; at a quarter past two we were always in the drawing-room all together. But the next day, the day of all others when it waa import ant yliat I should stay and hear the explanations about the work I had to do, Mrs. Raynor asked me, direct!) after dinner. If I | some j afternoon s post. _ my pass half my time painting and smok fn- here when it is wet and I can't gel out. You don’t mind the smell ol turpentine or tobacco, do you? •Gh, no, Mr. Rayner! But I won 1 come in, thank you. I am at lessoni with Haidee,” said I. And I returned to the house with Mona. It was to his studio then that Sarat bad taken his violin. I had nevei heard of this studio before; but 1 knew that Mr. Rayner was very careful about the condition of the stables, and 1 could imagine that this two-windowei! upper room, with its fire, must be a very nice place to paint in—dry, wanr and light Could this be where Mr. Rayner slept? No; for in that case h« would hardly have asked me to com* up and look at his painting. And 1 should not like to think that he had made for himself a snug warm litU* home here while his family slept in th* damp vapors of the marsh at the bot tom of the hill. Yet I ahquld hav* liked,in the face of Mr. Reade stiresom* euiuicioua. to bs 8UW» — window and earned by sitting still.” He drew me to my opened the ease, keeping his eyes fixed upon my face as he did so. The case was lined with old and worn red vel vet, and had evidently not been made for the ornament it contained. Thll was a large pendant in the form of a heart, which was a blaze of what seemed to me the most magnificent diamonda I had ever seen. The sight of them inspired me not with pleasnre, but terror. I drew a long breath of surprise and admiration. “ It is tho most beautiful thing I hav* ever seen,” said I at last, not quite able to take in yet the fact that it was meant for me, and hoping against hope that it wa* not. “ You like diamonds?” said he, in a low voice. “They are lovely—the most beauti ful of all jewels, I think.” aaid I, with a break in my voice. “Would vou like to have your hair and neck and arms covered with dia monds, like a duchess at court?” stones, until the grai „ the stream of people who were slowly coming out of the porch brought ua past him. Then, as Mr. and Mr*. Ray ner stopped to speak to some one, Mr, Reade said: “ It seems snch a long time si no* Tuesday.” Tuesday waa the day on which he bought tlie marble*. I said gravely: “It is just five dare." “Yes, but they have been sueh long dare,” said he. in a low vote*. “Nov really,” I answered. •'The days are getting shorter and thortei now." “ Don’t yon know how long a day seems when you want to see a—a per son, and yon can’t? Bat perhaps yon see the person yon like beet to see every day?” “I like to see my mother beta, and she ft a long way oif,” said 1 gravely. “Ah, yes, of course! But I wasn't thinking of one’s family." “Perhaps you were thinking of th* g retty girls who were in your pew lata unday?" ‘•The Finch*#—Ethel and Katie? Oh, no, I wasn’t! I see quite enough of them. They’re coming again, too. to toe *ohwl-tr**t- JAulI see why to** would mind writing letters for her, to go by that i should have sat down to writo them in the drawing room. but Mrs. Rayner aaid: “ You would like to be undiaturbed, I know. Shall I send your coffee to yonr room or the school-room?” I said “to my room, if you please," and went up stairs trying to swallow the lump in my throat I had got through one stupid letter— they were not at ail important—when there was a knock at the door, and Jane came in, giggling and excited. “Oh, miss, F’ve brought you a par- eel, and 1 have made Sarah so wild:”— and she laughed delightedly. “I an swered the neil, ana there was Mr. Reade on his horse with this; and he •aid, ‘take it to the echool room, please; it’s for Miss Christie;’ and then negotpiL and I showed him into the drawing-room. And I saw you wasn't in there, nor yet in the school-room. So, when I got into the hall, thinks L T’U be beforehand with old Sally this time!’ when out she comes and savs, ‘give that to me. I’ll give it to Miss Christie.' ‘Never mind,' says I, half way up the stairs—‘don't you trouble.’ And she made a grab at me, but I was too quick for her, and up I run; and here R is, miss.” And she slapped the parcel down upon the table triumphantly. "Thank you, Jane," I said quietly. "It ft only some work for the church from Miss Reade." Jane's faoe fell a little; and then, as if struck by a fresh thought, she gig gled again. I cut the string and opened the parcel to prove the truth of my words, and showed her the red flannel and the wheat-ears, which were to be sown on in letters to form a text. But in the middle was another note, and a box wrapped np in paper, both directed to “Mms Christie:" and at sight of these little Jane’s delight grew irrepressible again. “1 knew It!" she began; but stopped hersolf and aaid: “I beg your pardon, miss,” and left the room very de murely. But 1 heard another burst of merri ment as she ran down stairs Then ) opened the note; R only mid: “Da*■ Mrss Csaisrni—1 taka the liberty ol * sanding you a few lata roaes from a tree in a sheltered corner where the rein can not ■•oil them 1 hope they won t amen of elgan: rODukt not end a batter box. 1 will oiui to fetch the test. Ifyow will let me know when 1 eu see yon. Voure alncerely. • Lalesscs Roads.“ The rosea were in a cigar-box, and as long as they lasted they never smelt of any thing but tobacco; but I began to think that perfume nicer than their own. I was so happy that evening that 1 was glad when Mr. Rayner asked me to accompany hie violin. It was half- after ten before we ceased playing the passionate and sweet music he hM se lected from "11 Trovatora" and similar operas When we had finished, Mr. Rayner put down his violin, and, drawing a chair close to my music-stool, ran nil fingers over the aeys of the piano. “Do yon know the words? ' Via eke taped eke cos' urmort,' he sung softly. “Do yon know what that means?" “Oh, yeet" said L rather prond of showing off my small knowledge of Italian. " ‘Yon know what love is’ ” I drew my music-stool a little back, and listened while he sung It softly through. I had never known a love- soar touch me like that before. When he had finished he turned round. 1 did not move or speak, and he jumped up. walked to the ah utter* and unbarred thajn and threw ooen the •'l am shflboating. Oh. for a Vene- tian balcony!” said he. “Come here, little woman,” I nee and obeyed. He threw a woolen antimacassar round my bead and shoulders, and drew me to the window. “Look up there, child, at the moon through the tree-tons Wouldn't you like to be in Venioe, listening by moon light to those sweet songs in the very native land of tho love they sing about? I would give the whole world to be there at this moment with the woman I love. I could make her understand there!” 1 I was struck by the passionate ten- demoss in his voice, and suddenly made uf> my mind to be very bold. “Then why don’t you take her there, Mr. Rayner? I said, earnestly. As I spoke, smiling at him and speaking ss gently as I could, though I felt terribly frightened at my own bold ness, his eyes seemed to grow darker, and his whole faoe lighted up in an ex traordinary way. I saw my words had made an impression, so I went on eagerly, pressing nervously the hand with which he was boiling mine, for I was still afraid lest my audacity should oflend him. “Mr. Kayne* forgive me for speak- tug about this; but you apoke first, didu't you? I have so often wondered why you didn't taka her away. It •ocius so hard that you, who waul sympathy so much—you know yon have often told mo so—should have to Uve, aa you say, a shut-up life, on ao- count of tho apathy of the woman ta whom you are bound.” He seemed to drink in ray words m If they contained an elixir; I could feel his baud that he was actually trem- ag; and I grew more assured my self. “Now, if you were to take her away, although you might have a difficulty at first iu persuading her to go, and ferae bar, with the kind force you know how to use, tD go among fresh faces and fresh people, I believe she would come bock to life again, and see how much better you are than other huabanda, and love you just as much as ever. Oli, she couldn’t help it; yon are ao kind and good I” Then mv heart sank, for I saw I had E ne toe far. As I spoke, from pae- nately eager, he looked surprised, puzzled, anii then his faoe clouded over with a cold frown that chilled me with fear and shame. I drew my hand out if his quiokly, and stopped back into (be room. He followed and took my band again. “Never mind, little one; you hav* not offended mo by speakingyour mind out; don’^ bo afraid. But you don’t know, yon can not guese —how many or how deep a man’s cares may b« while ho is obliged to bear a brave front to the world. I think you would b* sorry for me if you knew them.” “I nm sprry even without knowing them,” I said, softly. He bent down over me and looked Into my eves for a few moments. Then he raised lift head, and laughed lightly. “You arc a fraud. Great gray eyes ought to be passionate, and yours are as cold as a lake ou a still day. 1 be lieve you are an Undiue! You have no •mil. ” “Oh, Mr. Rayner!” I said, mount- folly, and I turned slowly to the piano to put away the music. “Never mind; I will do that,” sold be, in his usual tone. “I have kept S ou long enough. Good-night, Un- ine.” , 1 was almost afraid he would again want to kiss me, and, after offending him once, I should not have dared to refuse. So I shook hands as hastily as l could, took my candle and ran up stairs. I was very angry with mvscll for baving'been cold and unsympathet ic—I had not meant to be so at all. But the fact was I had been thinking the whole evening of Mr. Laurenoe Reade. [TO HK COHTISUKD.J PRAISE, ONLY, FBOM A1A. WHO USB AYER’S Hair Vigor “Ayer’s preparations are too well known to need any commen dation from me ; but I feel com pelled to state, for tlie benefit of others, that six years ago, I lost nearly half of my hair, and what was left turned gray. After using Ayer’s Hair Vigor several months, my hair began to grow again, and with tbe natural color restored. I recommend it to all my friends.”—Mrs. E. Frank- HArscit, box 306, Station C, Los Angeles, Cal. Ayer’s Hair Vigor! raxPAmsD bt ML 11 ATEI A CO., LOVELL, MSI % UNO FOR SALE. ■ OT8 AND PARCELS OF LAND Lb tor sale by the Darlington Land Improvement Company, who will sell on terms one-third cash, balance to suit purchaser, lots of 1 acre to SO acres, lo cated where desired on our property. Guv lands are good farming lands for ell kind* of crops, ea well as being loca ted in or near our town. AU persons deairing to purchase will please cell on the undersigned, who will afford every facility to purchasers to examine our property. We believe we offer rare in ducement* for investors. J. J. WARD, Pres. A Trees., D. L. I. Co. LKAVKS von: TIME. Florence, •7.30 a. m. Hartsville, *9.30 a. m. Wades boro, t9.18a. m. Florence, 16.05 p, m. ” ’’ T4.30 p. m. ” t7 20 a.m. Hartsville, t8.05 p. m. C. 8. A N , Sumter. t7.25 a. m. Bennettsville, t8.00 p, m. ’• 71 00 p. m. Sumter, }2 03 p. m. •Sunday only. tDaily except Sun*, dav. J Mondays, Wednesdays an ' Fridays, ^Tuesdays, Thursdays an- Saturdava- “in® desires to announce that she is now prepared to serve her friends and the public generally with a full line of FUlud TOE UlY, Fancy Notions, &c., at lowest prices. Call and examine both Goods and prices. SSSSm Health Ordinance. Darlington, 8. C., June 24,1S95. B E 11 ORDERED AND ORDAINED: That the following Rules and Regulations, passed and adopted by the Hoard of Health of the town of Darlington, 8. C., having been ap proved by the Town Council of the town of Darlington, 8. C., are hereby declared to be Ordinances of the said Town. W. F. DARGAN, J. W. EVANS, Mayor. Clerk. R. lks and Rkoclatiors o» th* Boakd ov Health or th« Town ok Darlington, 8. O., Madk of Force Junk 24th, 1895. Rule I. That any person, who, in any manner, hinders or obstructs the Health Officer of this Hoard, or any member of this Board, or any author ized Officer of the town acting under authority of the Board, in the iusjiee- Mon of premises within the Town lim its; or in the abatement of any nui sance, which, in the opinion of the Board, is deemed prejudicial to the public health: or in the discharge of any duties prescribed by the said Board of Health, for the correetion and preservation of the sanitary con dition of the Town, shall be punished by a fine of not more than Fifty I'ol- lara, or by imprisonment not exceed ing thirty days for every such offense. Rule If. That anyperson who re fuses or neglects to abate or remove any nuisance, or anymstter, or any thing, which, In the opinion of the Board of Health, is likely to endan ger the publie health, after having been directed to do so by the Health Officer, or any member of said Board of Health, shall be punshod by a fine of not less than Fifteen Dollars or by imprisonment not exceeding thirty' days for every such offense; and in such event of said refusal and neglect it shall be the duty of the Health Of ficer to have removed or abated snch nuisance; and all expenses incurred by reason of such removal or abate- mer t shall be recovered, as is legally provided for, from the tenant or own er of tbe property on whicn said nui sance is found. Rule III. That any person who al lows a dead animal to remain on any premises within the corporate limits of the Town to him or her beinging, or by him or her controlled, foalong er period than twenty four hours, shall be punished by a fine o not less than Five Dollars, or by mprison- ment not exceeding thirty days. Rule IV. That on and after Dee. 31, prox., it shall be unlaw for any person or persons to Weepany hog or nogs on any premises within the cor porate limits of the Towng ; and any person or persons so doi n hall ben punished by a fine of no* less than Ten Dollars, or by imprisom ut n it exceeding thirty days, or both, at the discretion of said Board of Health, or Role V' Section 1. That it shall be the duty of all physicians practic ing within tbs town to report to tbe Secretary of the said Board of Health the names and residences of all per sons coming under thejr professional care who are afflicted with any conta gious or infectious disease; said re port to be made to the Secretary, eith er verbally or in writing, withfn two days after such disease Is contracted. Section 2. That it shall tie the do ty of all physicians and mid-wives to report to the Secretary of this Board all births, together with sex and race, happening within the corp< rate lim its of the Town: said report to be de livered to the Secretary of the Board, either verbally oi in writing, within two days after occurrence of sneh birth or births. Section 8. That it shall be the du ty of all physicians and undrtakers to report to the Secretary of this Board all deaths occurring within the cor porate limits of the Town, together with cause of death, name, residence, age and race of deceased; mid report to be delivered, either verbally or in writing, within two day* after snch death or deaths. Section 4. Any physician, Bid-wife or undertaker failing to comply with tbe requirements of this Rule will be fined not lees than Five Dollars or more than Fifty Dollars at ibe dis cretion of mid Board Rule VI. That it ehall be tbe duty of the Health Officer of this Board to visit and personally inspect sll prem ises within the corporate limits of the Town: and any premises found to be in an unhealthy or unsanitary condi tion, the owner or tenant thereof will be pnolshed by a fine of from One Dollar to Fifty Dollars, or imprison ment not exceeding tnii' both, at the discretion oi RaleVII. That *ny person who strueta in any way the drains, of the T< courses or who throws bags or any c the streets, or on the or on or about either of Swift Crtek. or who in any of each places, ed by a fine of not lees lor or move than Ten imprisonment tor not days, or both, in the ’ Board. q^By order of he -D P. LIDS,' ^Sacrtaary. own, trash, Ga maliel .r