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juapw AS?_ s >i. grist, ^ fsx tb? ^rai^n of % ^olilical, facial, Agrindtanl anb (^^^^^irfer^on|c $onlj|. -e? ? : z/y ==zz ?? = ===r=Z2^==== ?? ~?i^=ZLzzz==~ =i__ : t . 1 - '\ VOT, 17. YOEKVILLE, S. C., THEBSDAY,,'FEBRUARY 23, 1871. * . . jtu ?riginal fme Written for the Yorkville Enquirer. ,' ATLOWA. BT MRS. 1(. A. EWABT RIPLEY. CHAPTER XIY. DI8APPOINTKENT AND PAIN. "There is news which I hay$ been expecting," said Lee, handing Heyward an open letter?"news Which I should have received a week ago, but which the mail thought would bear keeping, I suspect, as it has been so long delayed." It wasfrom Alice, saying that the family would be up in the course of a few days, and her father hoped Brookland would be prepared for their reception, as he would be accompanied by some guests: After giving many - charges respecting her mother's room, and meufiomJg in Retail several of fh&guests, she s.id War filthar exDected to entertain a Mr. IPElormie, an acquaintance he had made in Charleston, and with whom he was more than usually pleased. "You know," she wrote, "my father is not a man of rapid friendship, and this is the more singular, as the gentleman is a foreigner. He is a man, however, of fine talent, polished manners, and uncommon address. He is also as handsome in appearance as irresistible in manners. He expects to spend some time in our neighborhood, and father says if he should precede him to the country, he hopes you will do the honors of Br^okland." "I will install you Master of Ceremonies, Ralph; I do not know that I will be much at home during the summer," said Lee, "Why; going to travel with your bride ?" said Ralph. * * ' did aI onoolr JLee coioreu, uui uiu uui "Pshaw! Lee, get over that; there are more women in the world than one." "Don't be uneasy," replied Lee, " 'men die and worms have eaten them, but not ibr love and I am nopuling school-boy, nor love-sick I youth. Life is full of duty, and pleasure, yt%~ r though I may be denied the best expect to answer its requiremeuts^md in order to begin faithfully, I intend {his day to bid farewell to associations thet will for a time be painful." /. "You are going ovetfonder?" asked Ralph, jerking his thqalll in Ae direction of Hillside. "For the last tine," .repHfed Lee. "That's right,Jee?'said Ralph; "I'd give that up. True the girl's pretty and smart, and all that/But ifwould suit none of your | people, aud-ftell you a woman has an unenviable positpn where her 'entrance into a family has b$n questionable. Indeed, a woman of proper spirit will never, voluntarily, place herself^ such cycumstahces." "Sheia one if the proper kind, then," replied I *a i for I might as soon think' to snatelfr* afarfom Its s$ieto& aarto weat her my bear her to mj^jAwne with "More sensible than t' gob^p^^- of the sex," muttered Ralph, as Leeieft the room. A few minutes after, Lee was riding in the . direction of Hillside, as he had said, "for the last time." Too manly and- self-reliant to s vyleld to despondency and gloom, still it was - with no light hearfrjie contemplated paying his final visit It was on this evening her be trothed was expected, and Lee thought he would try and leave some wa* open for communication in accordance with her delicacy, ^ in case Mendoza should -yield his claim. What way it was to be, was not clear to his own mineL He expected, in this, to be governed by circumstances. There was no one in the piazza at Hillside, nor in the yard. The house was more than usually quiet, and Lee walked slowly up to the door. He stood for some time in the piazza, hoping Avlona would appear, an^j^&fainclined to summon any one. The winders of the ordinary sitting-room were open, 3?d *half hid by the clustering vines." He leti&t against one of the pillars. He could hear the clattering of dishes and the sound of voices from the inner room, and once he heard the low laugh of Avlona. Spite of its musical cadence, it grated on his ears as he contrasted the bitterness of his feelings with her merriment Several moments passed, and then the sound of moving chairs, and footsteps indicated that the meal was finished. He leant eagerly forward to catch a sight of Avlona, and to note I the warm flush with which she involuntarily and invariably welcomed him. He saw her as she entered the room; saw her leaning with clasped hands upon the arm of a stranger, looking up into the face which bent to his with a radiant smile, and eagerly listening to words which were murmured, rather than spoken. Lee's face darkened. As they entered the door, it was closed behind them, and then the ;* stranger folded the young girl to his heart, -* while she, toothing loth, lifted her lips to a pressure that was repeated. Lee saw no more. With a bitter?"Curse the woman!"?maddened to blindness, he ' -1 ' t-u! 1. i sprang tnrougn tne irau muice wui&, Mnug the plants as he passed, and in a moment was thundering in the direction of Brookland. "So she wins her betrothed to yield," he muttered; "double-faced and foul-hearted, she would dare to trifle with me! But her empire is over; frail, deceitful and false, she bears no longer any charm." A traveling carriage was at the door as he reached Brookland, and the business of unpacking was still in progress. He threw himself from his horse to welcome his parents and Alice, with a host of relations. "You are improved, my son, but you look pale," said his mother, gently. "Are you well?" "Quite well, now, mother," he said, almost hoarsely. "I have been ill, but I'm cured." His mother looked alarmed, and would have asked an explanation; but he hurriedly left her. For several days he scarcely left the house ; excused himself from all their riding and walking parties, declaring the duties of host kept him too busy to spend his time in ' ' L- J J pleasure excursions; Dut m reamy, ne ureaued hearing of Avlona's marriage and depart: ure. His father was much pleased at his attention to business, and told his wife that those foolish reports about Arthur were all stuff; that he cared as little for the society of ladies as any one he ever saw. ' ? # Mrs. Lee sighed and shook her head; said it was true; but Arthur was changed, she could scarcely tell how. To which her husband answered: "Stuff! 1 Was the boy not as considerate and dutiful as ever ? Was he not always at home ? And he had fcever heard him mention a woman's name since he had arrived." "True," she again replied; "but he is absentminded, and often pre-occupied. He cares less about ladies' society; never attends the | girls?" 4 I "Why, you will make him out a bear after awhile," said her impetuous husband; "is he not polite and gentlemanly to them?" "Oh! yes," she said; "all that; but the duty is irksome and?well, I cannot make it tangible; but Arthur is changed." "Pooh! you talk just like a woman ; you give the effect without a corresponding caus^j ypu give a result without a reason. Let Arthur alone ; there is no nonsense about Am, I assure you." The mother sighed and was silent, as Alice entered from ^tide to the village. "Mr. D'Elormie has arrived, papa ?"' - "Has he V' he exclaimed.j "L am glad " to J hwritr What detained " Nothing," she replied; '*h^- preceded us, but has been absent on an excursion." "Strange!" said Mr. Lee, "I enquired at the hotel, but he was not there." "No," she answered, "he stopped at a counA * " try DUUStJ Ili IrUC UClgUUVluwu. "Ah," said he, as he moved to the door,^11 must send Arthur to. hunt him up." "Papa," called Alice'timidly, "had you not j better go yourself? Arthur does not know | hira." "And what of that ?" he paused to ask; "I presume the name of Lefe, without credentials from me, will be sufficient introduction." "Yes; but papa," she expostulated, "Arthur goes out so little, maybe he would prefer not going." She hesitated as if scarcely knoffing what to say. ' ' t , "Youwould have me suppose "that Arthur is not out of leading-strings, Alice, or that my wishes must yield to his preferences, as you call them. I expec$ him tv consult them without demur or hesitation/'said the choleric old gentleman, tatilj. jj Alice looked at tpjnothgj^m Mr?. Lee" unAlice, who had inherited, in common with her brother, a large share of her father's independence and spirit, replied: "Your wishes,, father, you know Arthur has always consulted ; nor has he ever denied you the obedience due from a child to a parent; but that makes it only the more obligatory upon you, that you should, under certain circumstances, consult his; and I do not think it either wise or kind to send him to Hillside." "To Hillside! and why not to Jerusalem,if I see fit?" he asked. <r "Because, father, the foreign woman you so anathematized, was and it may be ftfr aught I know is, a resident there; and it is wisdom in Arthur to absent himself,"she said, looking bravely up into the flushed face of her hasty ! parent. | "There is no truth in that nonsense, Alice," ' said Mr. Lee crimsoning still mor^ !* TlTruth enough to make what weinopea honon, * very unpleasant reality," she replied. "What in the thunder does the boy mean ?" broke forth the old gentleman ; "does he forget he is a Lee, that he would graft such a scion upon our aucient branch ? Now By?" "Hush, father!" interrupted Alice; "no use to swear over poor Arthur. He is acting ! manly and wisely in the matter, and let us J help him, not tempt him, nor crush hiim*' "Stuff!" said he, impatiently uttering his I favorite exclamation. df | "Stuff, or not, father," sai<$ Alice, "you know the material of which Arthur is made, and coercion is not the meats to subdue him. Let him alone; he is working this difficulty himself, and I tell you he is not to be meddled with." "What do you know about it V he asked, Jier anxiety impressing him; "have you had any talk with him upon the subject ?" "Yes," she replied, "I have." * "Well ?" said he, "what of it?" "I asked him as delicately as I could of this unfortunate liaison. His answer was: 'Alice, let this subject never be named between us T knliaro^ mi7 doatinn XUQB in mv nwn agaiu. i.lAiUbl&U Ulj uwnu^ 'm -? J ? hands. I was very happy in that belief. I | now beligve I was deceived; but you must not argue from that, I am miserable; not at all. I am under the cloud, now; but although my hopes of /domestic life are blasted; though the holy names of wife and children I may never own as mine, yet mother, sister and home I claim, and with these I will be happy.'" Mrs. Lee wiped her eyes, while her husband gave a very equivocal "Ahem!" "But," said he, at length, "this woman may follow Arthur, and so give him yet a great deal of trouble. "No fear of that," replied Alice; "Ralph tells me she is as proud as a very daughter of Lucifer, and as haughty as any Lee on the continent." "Why !" exclaimed the old man, "she did not put on any airs with Arthuf ?" "No," replied Alice ironically ; "only refused him pointedly, and gave him to understand we would all be greyheaded before she would enter into our family." "He did not offer her honorable love?" cried the old gentleman. "Why, father! Arthur? What else did you expect of him ?" "Bless the boy!" exclaimed the old gentleman, pacing the floor, "he's a Lee, after all. And the wench, she didn't refuse it?" "But she did," said Alice, indignantly.' "Ralph says she rejected him unhesitatingly, and decidedly." "Confound the woman ! for what reason, I would like to know ?" asked Mr. Lee. "Her father's disapproval, and her own unwillingness to enter into a family of whom she knows nothing." "By Jupiter! her impudence is unparalleled ! Whatdoes she expect ??to have a throne, or rule an empire?" "I do not know," replied Alice, scornfully ; "her ambition must reach to a coronet or diadem." "Where is she now ?" asked Mr. Lee, after exhausting his vocabulary of invective. "Ralph could not tell me; but she left Hilside the very day we came; but even although ; she is not there, I thought it would be better for Arthur to avoid the association of the place." "How is it Mr. D'Elormie is there ?" asked Mr. Lee, after a pause." "The people keep a kind of boarding-house, i I believe," replied Alice; "and the hotel being crowded, he went there. He has, however, ! engaged rooms, I understand, and will take possession as soon as the ' j pants vacate them, which will be in a day or two." "\Vell," replied her father, "I will call upon him when he goes to the hotel. I won't go to that place; and Alice, you can send out cards for a dinner party next week; You and your mother can fix the day. We must break up this gloom of Arthur's.. He will be pleased with D'Elormie, and the house must be kept gay. My plan of rusticating has played the mischief with him, poor fellow! If I get forgiveness for this, by Jupiter! I'll?" The close of the sentence was unheard-through the closing door As he passed put "How was it that Arthur became so infatuated," asked Mrs. Lee; "I should not think such a woman as I imagine her to be, would please his taste. He has always been fastidious to a fault." "I do not .know," replied Alice, wearily ; "Ralph says she has a beauty that penetrates like light, and enthralls like a spell. That's Jill he c^n tell me, for he neverfsaw her but %nce,aiid he"say^It'vra.a pictufetTe'ft never %rget" Mrs. Lee sighed : "Poor Arthur!" "No, mother, hush!" said Alice, impetuously ; "you must not pity him; he would not stand.it; his love is deep, proud And irritable? it will not brook sympathy, and would twent your pity." 'Qjfi&h he could see some one he would fehcj^?? said Mrs. ?ee-dolorously; "1 did hope, at bneraaffikbe would lave chosen his cousin, Mary; "v "Pshaw! nfbtlj^r," said Alice, "Mary would not suit Arthur; l^tiWacter is not sufficiently symmetrical, aira her i>?wth4B'npi tempered with dignitf." ^ AI w^adt Som8t"ae* | ^No/^f5^k, Alice f "but, mother;' don't ' he building castftjf ^or %thor. He will not occupy any but onKillVs own planning ; and the best thttgjoa ahjwha' can do for him? is to let him albne. my unconscious gentlmaggrry*^ J yte, chafes him ; and he segte'Ma^T:som^iyin preference, because, she rattles so ineohsiderateiy-sad merrily." "Well, Alice, you know best fTjDrti- wish your father had never sent him here. It seemed very absurd to me, and now see the evil consequences ?" "Do mother, don't say, 'I told, you so I?' there is such a complacent crook in the ravenlike cry./' SbjEifty part, I wish Brookland had been annihQp^bcfore any harm had come to^Ar&ur'from h^toifo .visit here." SURPRISE AND CONFESSION. "We were so afraid yon w^uld not return in time," said Alice, meeting her brother, as he arrived after an ^absence of several days. "Iu time? saw: I Lee; "is not your party I over? I thoughtit was to have been last week." jj&jfc >'. f "So we intended," replied Alice; "but Miss D'Elormie^in whose honor it was given,, was unable to maud, from some unexplained cau&; and.wfien she declineflfeoming, I appointed to-day, although I told her I would not have my brother to assist me at that time in doing the honors of Brookland. We looked for you last week, and fully expected yon ; but when you did not come, we concluded you had extended your hunt, and would not return for several days. How many deer did you kill, and where is Ralph ?" "The trophies of our chase are in the wagon, which George is unloading, and Ralph is searching for a missing horn, of which he wishes to make a drinking cup," replied Lee. "He will be up in a few minutes. But Alice, can I not be excused from this party ? I am very tired, and it is late. Ill scarcely have time to dress." "Why, no, Arthur," replied Alice, hesitatingly ; "Mr. D'Elormie is down stairs, and father has made such a point of your making his acquaintance. He was so glad to hear you had arrived, and ordered dinner to be delayed a half an hour. And, brother," said she, timidly; "I want you to see Miss D'Elormie ; I know you would be pleased with her." "Hang Miss D'Elormie!" said Lee. "I beg your pardon, Alice; I have been with such a rough set on our hunt I forget myself. How many are here ?" "Not many; not more than twenty," replied Alice. "Can I do anything for you ?" "No, thank you. How long am I to have to dress ?" "Scarcely twenty minutes," replied Alice; "but I will send Bill to you; hurry down." In a few minutes Ralph entered, laughing. "Alice has been to me to hurry me for dinner, which she says is waiting, and promising me the treat of an introduction to the Miss D'Elormie, she talks so much about. As I came up stairs I met her nonpareil emerging from Alice's chamber. You should have seen her, Lee," he said, throwing himself upon a chair in convulsions of laughter gffthe oddest bundle of womankind, and 'i%ly?ugh ! Alice arranged this to fool but I've .got the upper hand of tap rugfc'&nd she'll not catch me." "Yo^-^pWter dres^jtfyou are going to," said Lee, whose toilette was nearly completed," and take your laugh out some other time. The dressing bell rang some time ago." "I'll be ready in moment," replied Ralph, springing up ; "I'm going to dress to captivate that yellow and antiquated species of humanity, yclept Miss D'Elormie. If I don't have my revenge out of Alice!" As Lee entered the parlor, he saw his father standing near the centre of the room with a stranger. As soon as Mr. Lee's eye rested on his son, he beckoned him to advance. Youug Lee stopped to salute his mother with the old-fashioned respect and courtesy she so dearly loved; and kissing her on either cheek, he enquired tenderly of her health. His lively cousin, Mary, put up her lips for a kiss, as he warmly greeted her, and he then advanced to where his father was standing. The stranger to whom he was introduced was Mr. D'Elormie, and Lee could not account for the indefinable repugnance with which he accosted him. The stranger's blandness was met with an uncontrollably chilling courtesy, and his graceful compliments upon the beauty of Brookland, his delicate tact in praising the designer through the design, failed either to please or to conciliate. "That handsome face he had surely seen before," thought Lee, but when or where, he failed to answer. Had he had time to analyze his feelings, he would have discovered a deadly hate lurking in the very recesses of his heart; but he j was only conscious of an insurmountable disI like?of a strained courtesy?of an invincible haughtiness?manifesting itself, not in looks or actions, but'in an inward temper, which^ rebelled against even the customary platitudes of ordinaiy good breeding. He soon discovered, howevera.Jhat he bad" come in contact with no ordinary mind. The freshness and originality of his conversation were the more remarkable, because uniteOi with terseness and vigor, tie was already becoming betrayed into an interest-which be would fain have . withstood, when the announcement was given to dinner, and tie large folding doors were thrown open betweefc the second drawing-room and the dining* room. Alice f4otohed his sleeve and whispered: " ArtVmAfwIrp Miss D'FInrmifi." and as he replied in the same tone: "Excuse me: give 1 her to Ralph," Mr. D'Elormie, with a "par-; don me," passed to the opposite side of the? rooto. He stood between Lee and a lady tq^ whom he bent his head to whiBper^^3^j|3 jition, the actMhe profjk^r^lji *101, Tn vivid outline, a?recollec?i;*h eigra^aw on his heart by a chisel of fire. It wasthestranger who had stooped to the Hps lona. A torrent of angry blood rushed to his face, , and a sound of a cataract was in his ears. How long he stood he did not know. It seemed to him moments; but a few seconds could only have elapsed, for his father, foudJ$ ing his arm and telling him he wished to jntfl troduce him to Miss D'Elormie, conducfjW him across the room, where the stranger yet stooping, and introduced him to AvlomN He had only time to catch a warm, titfu&j look, to notice the quick veiling of the daraS eyes, when mechanically offering his arm,;$? moved with the party across thfe room irity' the dining-hall. > As her hand touched his arpa, he caughtdt in a vice-like grasp, unconscious of the force, till her face was lifted with a look of pain. ; Murmuring some incoherent words, to which he received equally incoherent replies, but which seemed very satisfactory to both, they were seated at the table, how or where, Lee never could understand. " -* The dinner was gptten through in a kind of trance, and Lee did not recover complete consciousness uirt.il Avlona whispered, with ,her head down, and crimson cheeks: "Mr. Lee, my father has asked you twice to take wine with him." Lee, bowing, replied by pouring out a huge bumper of brandy, which he would have drank, had not Avlona quietly removed it, and substituted her own untasted glass of wine. "Arthur seems much interested in his new acquaintance," whispered Alice to Ralph. "By Jove, yes, I think he is," said Ralph, who had never ceased looking and wondering. "Ah! Ralph, you men ! It would be well to write upon your fickle hearts, 'unstable as water.'- How swiftly one pretty face replaces another. I am glad, for Arthur's sake, that 1 he admires my new friend. She is exceedingly beautifuL" 1 ^| I "If you knew as much as I did, you would be glad, indeed," replied Ralph, still gazing. "But who is this Miss D'Elormie ? And what yellow specimen of feminity was that I mistook for her on the stairs ?" "That," laughed Alice, "was her chaperone ? - l ! __H_ 1 in an humble way;, isapei sne cans ner. You surely did not think she was my lovely friend, Miss D'Elormie ?" "I did, though," replied Ralph; "but who is she?" i "She is the daughter, as you may suppose, of the geutleman near you. A Cuban by adoption, but of English parentage on the mother's side, which you know reconciles my father to all intermediate accidents of birth, even to the fact of her being born in Avlona, in the province of Albania, in Turkey. My mother became at once very much interested in her, when she heard she was descended from a noble Huguenot family, and her sym-. pathies were warmly excited on hearing of a persecution formerly existing against them, and originating in their devotion to the religion of the Church of England." "Is she to spend the summer here ?" asked Ralph. "No," replied Alice ; "I think not. Her father is waiting for some advice from Cuba, on the reception of which, he intends returning with his daughter." "Humph!" ejaculated Ralph ; "unfortunate, he did not go with his daughter two" weeks ago." "Why ?" said Alice, anxiously; "do you think there is any danger to Arthur in the acquaintance ? He is not naturally susceptible, and I thought that a previous?that is?" "Exactly," interrupted Ralph, "that 'previous,' as you call it, will interfere with any new affection for some time to come. Arthur is neither susceptible, nor fickle, but that 1? at- Tlrnnlrlonfi in yUUlJg inUjr o pi cociikv uv ? creased his 'danger,' as you term it, ten-fold." Alice's surprised "Why ?" was lost in the* moving of chairs, as the ladies rose from th^ table, and left the gentlemen to then1 winelr Lee's hurried whisper to Alice, as he held the door open for the ladies to pass out? "Take Mademoiselle D'Elormie to the conse> vatory, and remain there till I come"?did not tend to lessen her surprise. They had been there but a very short time when Lee entered. "Ralph wishes to speak to you, Alice. I will take care of Mademoiselle," he said, as he drew her hand through his arm. Alice could not forbear a look of wondering question, as Avlona turned her crimson face and bent to a flower. Lee answered by placing his hand with a proud, happy look, on the one which rested - on his arm, and feeling obliged to be content with the gesture, in lieu of reply, Alice left them, wondering if her brother was daft. "Avlona," said he, "how long and dreary these days of separation have been. Dearest, tell me you have missed me." A look was her only answer; but it seemed enough, for he continued : "I am intoxicated, maddened, at the very sight of you again! You are still free, while I scarcely dared to think of you, lest the very thought was sin. But where is?" and he bit his lip. "He is ill," replied Avlona, ".unable to travel at present. My father is waiting to hear from him, and then he will know whether to take me on, or wait for awhile longer." "Ill! exclaimed Lee, passionately ; "thank God! May all the saints in the calendar grant him a speedy transit to heaven !" "Hush, Mr. Lee," said Avlona; "don't speak so." "How would you have me speak ?" he ex- * EE ' - ? ?;? claimed, velifemently ; pray for his recovery, wad his possession of the dearest object earth holds for me T* - "He will never obtain it," said Avlona, ^oftly. that again, dearest," he cried, throwing his arm around her ; "bless you for that. And then?" ^' ^'And then," she said, disengaging herself from his embrace, "I am still my father's daughter, to wait upon his will, and respect ^wishes." 6^"And do violence to your own conscience?" * askec^ bitterly. "No&iecessarily. I can practice obedience "(without a slavish submission. 1 can respect fiis demands, though not yielding implicity to "ttfeir ; but I will not betray his confidence." ^ "So," said Le6, scoffingly, "we are where were before; you place yourself not exactly j^thc^^fred to the slaughter, yet you are j^^wnw^^Tta?any moreofthis, Mr. Lee. ' [fcinritates youamiagitates me, while no good 'respite from our controversy." "Do not talk --about what fills every thonght r iie exclaimed "waking, or sleeping, ray heart is burdened with the same ach* ink sense of loved and lost. Your father is .b4re; let meflead witttjbim. He cannot reift&e your supplications,'' ynited with my en[tilfaties. Only bfd me go^ grant me that" p-f'No, no/ she replied, wijfe'a frightened feqfik; "you do not know'my father. He Wfold take me instantly fronr^you. T iis is Buft honor, and he would bury me, rather than fcafrifice or even stain it. Promise a you /wjlknot gj>. I would be hurried off, and I *vould never see you again." She looked up pteaijpgljr. . "Neyefsee me again ?" he repeated; "w?dd you cai?? Ah! Avlma, you dp not lofve mer \ '' . \ p ' If he expected the reproach to be met by - *? 1 OU? Amm assertion ne was misuutcu. uuc buyicu uvw him, and walked away. jou, Avlona ?" he insisted ; "can you, and thus deny me ?" She shook her, li^ad, and walked on. "You do1" said assionately; "you do/ and I \jill yet force the confession from you, and those very lips that now so proudly refuse to confess what you know your heart asserts, shall whisper the story on mine. Tell me good-bye, now and here; I do not dare to trustrnyselfto speak to you before that crowd." She.placed her hand in his without speaking. . "Is that all ?" said he, as she attempted to dr$w it away. "That is all," she said faintly. | "And you will not be my wife, Avlona?" he-asked. For a time she was silent. "No," she said, at length ; "it must not be. I will be the wife of no other man. You must .content yourself with that; but I cannot be yours: I did not realize how much I thought of you, until this separation, and now I know if frtirjri hf ni- fnr me jjgte another fjmt [failing to be your wife, no one shall ever call me by that holy and tender name." ^And you love me, then ?" he asked. She shook her head, as a step startled her. "Do not force a confession which would be followed only by pain." '^Alice entered, saying the gentlemen had returned ; the candles were lit, and Mr. D'Elormie was asking for his daughter. Avlona linked her arm in that of Alice, and the girls preceded Lee to the parlor. Her father wished her to sing some Spanish serenades for Mrs. Lee, a request with which Avlona grace? " t* i i_l i 1!_L !i.? luiiy compnea, taxing Alice s guitar jui me purpose. "Ralph, who is this Miss D'Elormie?" said Alice, excitedly, as Avlona, seated under the brilliant chandelier, on a low stool at the feet of Mrs. Lee, was earnestly conversing, a sweet, sad smile occasionally passing over the lovely face; or in answer to the frequent requests, was pouring out a flood of melody, like the carroling of a bird. The rich lace of her dress fell in soft folds over the silk, while her neck and arras, perfectly bare, save the diamonds which flashed from them, looked like polished alabaster. Her cheeks were flushed to a soft rose blush, and hfcr eyes vied, in their brilliant lustre, with iihe diamonds which gleamed in her hair. "A very pertinent question, after mine at dinner," replied Ralph, laconically; "but if "^Wwant my answer?the most beautiful woman I ever saw?not even excepting cousin Xlice." "Pshaw 1" said Alice; "I don't mean that Where is Arthur." "Look ! leaning against the folds of that curtain. Miss D'Elormie sees him. I saw her glance there just now. Do you remark how she eschews love songs? Her's are all spjrited and gay. She does not'sing 'one. Stop, I'll go and insist upon that 'Dearest, come to me.' Watch her now." He went upland Alice saw the gay refusal, while she played a lively waltz. Ralph, not intimidaWenTi8tefTflii"rZee as special pleader; and Avlona, half turning from Lee, again touched the strings. ' * As her voice rose in soft, plaintive pleading, Lee stepped from his recess, and stood behind his mother's chair. Avlona did not look up, though the deepening blush betrayed to Alice her knowledge of his presence. The notes trembled in exquisite cadence from her lips, as, burdened with love's passionate pleading, she sang the soft entreaty. How often had Lee listened to it by her oa lliAtr warn Ian minor lnvfl's first Mg KIIVJ ?TV1U wuvu . lesson. He bent eagerly forward, and as she finished, her look met his; but before her agitation was visible to other eyes than the observant ones of Alice, Lee had stepped forward, and relieving her of the instrument, offered his arm and conducted her to a seat near his sister. ' Mr. D'Elormie, who had been engaged in conversation with Mr. Lee, now came forward. "Our host has been insisting upon your spending the remainder of the summer in his family, my daughter, in case a hasty summons from Cuba should compel me to leave you. Mrs. Lee warmly urges it upon me; and I am disposed to think it will be the best arrangement I could make." Alice noticed the eager flushing of her brother's face, as he bent forward, and she. caught the hasty glance of Avlona, and the almost imperceptible shake of the head to the mute appeal. "I prefer going with you, papa, if you should go," she replied, turning her head from Lee. "Certainly, my daughter; but Mrs. Lee has convinced me there would be infinite risk iu a re|Q^nto Cuba at this season of the yeaiy < especially after yonr long sojourn in this temperate climate ; and if Signor Mendota fhila, : by his indisposition, to make his anticipated visit to America, I will either travel North with you or return without you to Cuba. But 1 the mail to-morrow will bring news of his 1 movements, andthen I will decide. J Soon after, the guests took their departure, 1 and as Mr. D'Elormie drove off with his 1 daughter, Mrs. Lee remarked to her son, 1 "What do you think of Miss D'Elormie, Ar- j thur?" ^ "I think she is proud, haughty, and im- ' practicable," replied Leej vehemently, turning ' fropthe doer.* c ' His mother looked surprised as she follow- 1 ed him, saying: "I thought you admired her. At dinner you were almost too marked in 1 your attentions, and she accepted them, I ! . : 1- T-w* . j luuugut, very coueuiuuoijf. w? ?> j<?u?v. , ^ -but it is a pardonable pride of noble birth, apntl^ Urjfrgfl RKa y, haughty, tOO' but it is not the assumption of ill-breeding f it is rather a graceful consciousness of her position-; and I have never seen one it became so chariMngly. She makes what is often an of- 1 fence, ah attractive charm." . ; "I thought you would find excuse for it, f mother/' said Lee, smiling; "you are Buch an j invincible aristocrat. But where is Alice?" ( "Pride and haughtiness are neither the vir- , tugs or vices peculiar to aristocracy," replied j his mother, rebukingly. "I have seen then? i ihpffensive predominance in those who could ] neVer lay claim to exalted position." ( A toft hand was laid on his shoulder as bis i mother spoke. * f f "Here I am, brother; do tell me what yon ] think of Miss D'Elormie ?" j "I have just told mother, she is haughty i and proud; and she has quarreled with me, i and if I tell you she is passionate and obsti- j nate, you will, in all probability, disagree ? with me also." i "I have seen her more frequently than you ( have," replied Alice, "and, I assure you she ] is not iu the least ill-tempered. She is high- j spirited, and I think determined ; but I do r. not see how you can call her obstinate; but < you will accord her beauty, will you not, and r without ahy envious 'if.'" j "Yes," replied Lee, rising and walking out ( in the piazza, as Ralph says, 'a beauty that i stings.'" ^ Alice followed him. t "Arthur," said she, softly, "who is this Miss j D'EIormie? There is some mystery about ? her, and you and Ralph know it. Tell me 1 who she is ?u t t ? "A very beautiful and fascinating woman," replied Lee; "but I should echo your ques- i tion, 'Who is she?' Did you not say you f have seen her more frequently than I ?" i "That is just the way Ralph answered me," ' replied Alice, pettishly; "of course I see she ' is beautiful; and more, she is as lovely in min3 i and manners as she is in person. The family ? are nohle, aristocratic and wealthy. Mr. Djl| !EIor<hie brought letters of introduction to the F first families in Charleston, and my father's 1 correspondents in Cuba speak of him in the ] highest terms. We did not know, however, ( his daughter was with him till we were intro- 1 duced to her at the hotel, after you left for ' your hunt. But we did not think strange of it, for although father met him often, we saw 1 but little of the gentleman, and in the gener- 1 al conversation of large dining parties, it was > not singular that his daughter was not alluded < to, particularly as he was not aware his route 1 led him so close to our summer home. She laughs and says she has been rusticating for ^ her health. Ah! Arthur, if you had met her < instead of?" She stopped. "It would have made no difference, Alice," 1 replied Lee. "No difference," said she, pleased that her J timid approach to a forbidden subject was not 1 repulsed. "Is she?the other?then, so beautiful ?" | "So beautiful!" he replied. I "And you loved her ?" said she, softly. "I love her, Alice," he replied. : "And she?does she love you ?" He put his arm around her as she rested agaiust his shoulders, and replied, "I believe 1 she does." { "Ah! Arthur, if you could only forget . her," she said, after a pause. "Why ? Shais good and noble, pure and' ! tjrue, as you are, my sister. I love her and ^ she loves me. Why should I forget her ?" ( "But I thought you told me?Ralph told 1 me that?" { "That I was deceived ?" "Ralph and I were both mistaken; she loves J me more fondly than ever, and I?well,"?and , he sighed. "How did you learn this ?" asked Alice, in j surprise; "you have just returned, amd you j left in the belief that she was false. How | could you have learned it ? Did you see her : during your absence ?" ( "No," replied Lee; '"I learnt it, since .my 5 return." ( "Pmm u/Vinm?hnw? Ah ! T know. MisS * **vm ""VM* "w" " . '?~ I D'Elormie knows her, ti^-kaQiWledge1^ made you friends. Now I seepand can ac^ j count for much that was mysterious this even- , ing." 1 Lee did not answer. ] "I wish she had not told you," said Alice; \ "better for you to forget her, whoever she is. < I don't want to see her. Arthur, do not see j her," she whispered; "I cannot believe she is worthy of you." He put his hand on her'cheeks as she look- * ed pleadingly up. "Too later Alice, I've seen 1 her already." ' "Arthur," she said reproachingly, "you J told me you had not." "No, I told you not during my absence." "**ri _ .1 oii _i _ __*j _ _ j " >y nere, men r sne saia, in burprmc. i "Is it possible you don't know?don't see?" he a^ked. A light broke upon her. "It is herself, Miss D'Elormie!" "Did you think it possible that I could love other than the good, and noble ?" he asked. "Are you satisfied ?" It was late when the brother and sister separated, and the sweet sympathy of her love was warmly appreciated, and fondly accepted, by the brother's heart. Alice's young and buoyant spirit believed that such love would surmount all obstacles, although she almost vexed Lee by declaring she loved Avlona better for her filial obe-. dience. [to be continued next week.] [Copies of the Ehqcimr containing the previous chapters of this Story can be furnished to new subscribers.] {pfttflxvetM*- ftotfing. ABOUT RACKS. Colored rags are valuable in proportion to the absence of decided heavy colore,' such as ] red, blue, dark brown and magentas; it being } necessary to bleach all coloring from stock, going into pulp for paper. Bleaching paper * stock is done by soaking and boiling in bleaching powders and chlorine, br with a rotary ] ind a hydraulic or pneumatic pressure. The latter process is less injurious to the fabric, aB < light and delicate colors are more easily and quickly extracted than are those of dark and I heavy colore. The brighter goods are to the 1 manufacturers more desirable. A majority * )f the colored rags New England furnishes 1 ire of dark shades. The saofeplass of stock fi predominates at the West NairYork and the J Middle States turn in lighMt^colors, while ,< from theSouth com$rthe best fflkSoe. Color- i 3d rags of good qualify ye usually worth < fbewt 41 cents per wund^ They go iSnto thd l common qualities of white jwper and work in 1 ?- ? 1'? 2^ ? * mLI aVan/] Slfli. 'i ewugoiiouiy ^l MUU& Ul nuiuuvwan nuu vr*u ar fibrous matter is the chief dement ' 1 Woolen ragB have become almost too valu- 1 able for paper maker's use, and in various 1 sections enter again into the clothes we wear. < Soft new woolens, the collections from tailors' i rotting boards, are worth ten cents per pound, and the straight and mixed colors being care- 1 fully sorted, they are, by machinery, neatly i and expeditiously picked to yarn, then slight- < ly spriukled with oil, which is afterward thor- i sughly worked in, giving this yarn, or as it is ? nore properly known, shoddy, a body of 1 itrength. These shoddy yarns are largely ? sought by our woolen [cloth manufacturers t and spun in with wool, which is afterward I sade into cloth. Shoddy is generally used t n giying doth its shades and' colors. Blue , s largely in demand ^his season, owing to the i ityles of goods beilfg largely Slue mixed. It ' s worth from 18 to 25 cents, according to the ^ juality of rag from which it is has been made. ' Red mixed shoddy is worth, about 20 cents, v and grey mixed from 12 to 16 cents per pound. 8 rhe cheapest kind of woolen stock is run into 1 mttere that chip and cut the rags to powder. I Phis is called flocks, and is neatly beaten and t )ickered into the back of thin and extra shod- v ly made stock to give it a heavy- weight. It r 9 this sham stiffening to cloth that 'one finds c vorked off in wearing, and settled in a con- 1 inuous pile around the bottom seams. Car- f ram are nut through a similar process, i O"* I JO tnd are chiefly sold to Philadelphians, and s -eappear as the nap in ourbest brussels, tapes- t ;ry and ingrain carpets. c The refuse cotton from the pickeries of the t South is a very large item sold in this market. J The pickeries are where the gotten bales are t -eceived direct from the .plaMtioD*, placed i n presses and by hydrajdifl^tfessuw made 'I nore com^^gy^^^j^&^t yis soiled 1 Tie ruling"prii e of qualities.' It is j hbrougtrtydnfetraJ and clea^secfj anci accSffi- f ng to grades, the poorest making t$ine, cheap t irarns, etc., the best going into oar cotton i doth. Rags known as waste are satinets and t he refuse cuttings of cotton and woolen rags, c ind are made into cheap news and book stock. 1 There is a culling of woolen rags known as i lards, that are of about the same utility as t vaste?but are more generally used for the j nanufacture of sheathing paper, and when t covered with tar-and pebbles make an excel- f roofing: ? Old paper of any kind itf^valuable ftjr re- j working. Writing and printing papers make t excellent newspaper. Some New York and c Boston papers print three quarters of their is- 1 meson old print papers; of course the ink is ( bleached out in the pulp, as is the color fkom 1 ihe rag. Old papers, originally white .and t - * . 1 A 1 31? coo dirty and muui&tea xor nanaung, wuu c especial care are made over into paper hang- ? ings and card middles. Every one of the 1 very many kinds of paper have each a quota- t ble value as old stock. Writing paper aver- t iges 7 cents; print papers of heavy stock, t H c; manilla paper 2} c; straw board custings, } c. In the manufacture of paper it is j estimated that fifty per cent is waste; that ( >ne ton of paper stock, rags, hemp, or jute, j will make one-half ton of paper. It may be ] interesting to know that many of our daily j papers are printed on paper made wholly, or , in part, of wood or straw. Poplar makes the { best wood pulp, and rye the best straw pulp. { The prices that have been given are such as the mar"facturer pays. They are the best jvidences of the intrinsic value of old junk, t No doubt there will be many to whom a quo- 1 tation of old woolen rags and waste paper will be quite a novelty. j The itinerant venders of tin, wooden and < glass ware; who take their pay in rags, reaping a profit in both transfers, make it a rule i Co refuse all classes of stock but white or mixed ] rags, and thus generally secure what they rail worthless trash as an accommodation and ' x. riddance. Visit any of the larger city \ lumping grounds, and now having an idea of lie values of the old material, see the im- c Sfiise piles accumulated in a day by the busy gamins, and wretched men and women, you r will seldom see a white rag in their collection; but woolens, shoddys, waste and rope, inter- t persed with old iron and coals; this will cer- c Cainly demonstrate the fact that a knowledge v )f the value the old bears to the new is not of general circulation. , . 1 ? ^ How Rain is Forkee*?To understand \ ;he philosophy of this phenomenon, essential 0 the very existence of plants and animals, x 1 few facts, derived ffom innervation and a ong train of experiments must be rem^m- t 3ered. / "Were the atmosphere everywhere, at all j ;imes, at a uniform temperature, we should lever have rain, hail or snow. The water ablorbed by it in evaporati<^^M^B|^rtB earth's surface vapor was ibsorbing power of lequently capabilij^H^^^^^^^^^H Droportionably greatei^^fl^M^H^^H rhe air near the surface ;r than it is in the region of licdier we ascend from the earth ive find the atmosphere. Hence il snow on very high mountains, in jlimates. ?'? : Now, when from evaporation Iy saturated with vapor?thoug^^^^^^^N Die?if its temperature is by cold currents descending ^B rushing from a higher to a capacity to retain moisture is slouds are formed, and the result is rain. jondeoses as it cools, and, like a sponge, 83S<^^ (ritii water and compressed, poors out tin w?* ter. which its diminished rapacity cannot hold. Sow singular yet how simple is such an ar- . rangeraent for watering the earth. errand The fact that "4rilfty cdsts nothing" is . probably the secret of its unfashionablenees. 1 tiring that every one can have, few think )f having. . ' * O t . v. ... Men of Industry, of integrity, of respecta* )le intellectual gifts, are met at. every turn; >ut your purely civil man is a vara avis. We ire not speaking of people in their social re* ations, but in their intercourse with the out* lide'world. Many men who are everything bat is genial and courteous in ttie nome circle, become cold, brusque, or irritable the monent they ^nter their counting-rooqis, offices, >r place of business, whatever Hie )layfbl, indulgent pvter-fag lour before i inlili n I' i liiiii| ui lulu >rgie; who snaps up his pale-faced clerk an^J^H He would make a supplementary break&st in lim. Under Buch a roaster it is no wonder^^M bat the clerk in turn finds ^impossible to be |H rivil to any stranger whom the chance of buliness may throw-in his way. As a general .thing,, clerks in mercantile louses do not'stand in need of ungracious ex* im plea. Much dealing with complicated accounts seems to sour the disposition. Frac;ions beget fractiousness. If you desire a fiue ipecimen of i nihility, take an ancient bookceeper at the time he is making out the balmce sheet, ask him the slightest question rot sonnected with his calculations. But for iu >eople engaged in strictly sedentary occupaions one should make generous allowance. ,v * . Asa class, the olerks in retail stores are renarkably courteous, considering the tests to riiich their patience is constantly, subjected; (Ve wish it were not in our way to say it, but . romen make the very worst retail clerks in the vorld. In most cases they seem unaoie to eparate their sex from the business in hand, f their customer is & man, they like or dielike lim at a glance, and are proportionately atentive or indifferent. When dealing with ironien?and this is a wise woman's testimoly?thej^re apt to be curt, impatient and lisobliging. If a woman tastefully or absurd* y dressed enters the store, business receives a urtive stroke of paralysis; the new-comer is nstabtly "inventoried, dissected, and?so to peak?set upon by the female coroners 'of he shop, whose verdicts are delivered to each >ther across the counters by a syBtem of eyeelegraphy jjjLJp be understood by man. ^one of '^rffcliarities attach themselves 9 a masculiue'clerk. His faults are of a difefent order. He is rarely downright rnde; if is m.orejprlen overwhelmingly polite and n.liing?aVeiry bad form of civility. uiletM^fihold positions which bring them ^ ' nto Wfthtbs public, and place th~$* mblic to a certain extent at their mercy, lave no righTTto 3>o ieket-inaster at the railroad station has no ight to snub you because you do not happen 0 know on which track your train is. The idnductor has no right to regard yon with a ?ok of disdain mingled with commisseration vhen you ask him the name of the next staion. You were not born on the road, and if rour interrogation convinces him that yon are 1 natural idiot, he ought to respect your mis-** . 1 L ? ? J ? s. UAIha.. ?4 +V%rt AIIIAW naaaxin_ uruiue SHU nut ucuay u iaj tug vmivi i^hwvhjers. The hackman who gloomily awaits yoa it the terminus of the journey has no right o hustle you as if you were a part of your >wn baggage. The hotel clerk, the natural mmility of whose disposition lies buried unler that monumental diamond pin, has no ight to treat you as an inferior. Yet who hat has traveled has not met all these, fonfis >f incivility? This, to be sure, is only one lide of the story. The traveler is almost as ikely to be exasperated as the employee on he road, or the clerk of the hotel. But then ;he traveller is not paid for being civil, and ;he other gentlemen are. It costs so little and is worth so much 1 A roung clerk with civility already has a stock >f 'oods of his own. Regarded as mere polcy, it is the next best thing to honesty; ahd,->ike honesty, it is good for its own sweet self, in uncivil mhn is necessarily a discontented nan, a discomfort to himself. We beg leave <o add a new sentiment to the copy-book of he period: Be civil and you will be happy! Courage in Eve^y Day-I^ &nrr2ftve he courage to discharge a debt while ^ou ^ lave the money in your pocket. Have the courage to do without that which rou do not want, however much you may sovet it Have the courage to speak your mind when t is necessary for you to do so, and to hold rour tongue when it is prudent you should do so. Have the courage to speak to a friend in a onan tliAnoli vmr ?rA in mm nan v dcjjuj tuat, ^vVyii juu uiuiu rith a rich one and richly attired. * .- *. ? I Have the courags&-mak^Marill^^gtftaflflfl Have the courage to your Have the courage you he a friend's the tonesty our whomsoever Have the you Have he Ea^