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lewis jm. grist, proprietor.! Jit Inbepmkttt Jfantil^ ftctospajjer: Jfor t|e ^romotira of \\t ^dlitical, facial, Jgriotltnral anb Commercial fntemts of % jsontjj. |terms?$3.00 a tear, in advance. VOL. 18. YORKYILLE, S. O., THURSDAY, MAY 33, 1873. NO. 31. i 1 . 1 I JU ?rigittal frise Written for the Yorkville Enquirer. AN HEIRESS IN HER OWN RIGHT. BY EMILY J. ROMEO. CHAPTER I. SOME OF OUR DRAMATI8 PERSON.? ARE INTRODUCED. "It is a hard matter for friends to meet; but mountains may be removed with earthquakes, and so encounter."' As You Like It. "It is very difficult to allow that those who differ from us, are as honest as we. The cause is, that we seem to suppose if we grant a man's honesty, we therefore justify his action." "It is Fairfax ttenry r "Yes, Claude, it's Fairfax Henry, and glad enough is he to meet you once more." "And I am delighted to see you ; delighted." And the two men shook hands heartily. "Little did I think of seeingyou, when John said a stranger was enquiring for me. But no one could be more welcome." And they Bhook hands the second time. "Come in. . Right in here. It is a little chilly to sit on the piazza to-day, and my family are all in the sitting-room." "Georgia, my dear, let me introduce Mr. Henry, an old college mate of mine. My wife, Mr. Henry." A very beautiful and graceful lady rose, extended her hand, and in a clear, sweet voice said, "I am happy to meet with an old friend of Mr. Elliott; one of whom he has so often spoken." Mr. Henry bowed. "And I am doubly happy in meeting the wife of my friend." Their hands and eyes met, and a friendship was born, such as often springs to life at the meeting of two pure, kindred souls. "My daughters, Mr. Henry ; Conway, Grace and little Alice." The ladies rose and exchanged greetings with the courtly gentleman whom their father introduced, and Alice, the little girl, gave him a pleased smile when he laid his hand on her head, and called her "little daughter." The news of the day was the first thing asked and given, for at that time?the fall of 1864?war news was too important to be delayed by mnch ceremony. That was scarcely over when a youth of twelve entered, and Mr. Elliott said? "Stuart, my youngest son; all the one I have at home." "How many children have you?" asked Mr. Henry, after shaking hands with the bright-eyed, fine looking boy. "Six living. We lost two boys in infancy, and Claude, my oldest son, was killed over a year ago. He was Colonel in the ? South Carolina regiment, and shared in that disasX TTfl TTQ Q V?Q^1 XT truuQ luuuniuu iuvu maijiauu. n?c u?u.j wounded, but managed to reach home before he died." "Could he not have been saved, if he had received good attention there, and not been brought so far ?" "I don't know. Sometimes we think so; but it was more a chronic disease which kept him from rallying, than because the wound was necessarily fatal." Mr. Elliott sighed, and his wife's face was t pale and sad. "You have other sons in the army, though, haven't you ?" "Only one; Russell, who is on General ?'s staff in Virginia. My other child is a daughJ ter; she married before the war, and lives in New Orleans; we haven't heard from her in a long time. I have my sister's son, and stepson in the army, who are like my own children. Arthur Edwards is my own nephew, and Jack Singleton is his step-father's child; no real relation, but I believe we all love him as dearly as if he were connected by blood." Dinner was announced at that moment, and after it was over and they were all gathered around the blazing fire, which the cool nights rendered necessary, Mr. Henry said? "Do you not wonder what brought me into this part of the world, and how I came to find where you are, when I've never visited you before, and had not heard from you in so many years ?' "Yes. I think it is somewhat strange, es " x. 1 l_ peciany as you never came 10 see us ueiure we settled in this out-of-the-way place ; but I am very glad, indeed, you found us and have giveu us the pleasure of this visit" "You have come, too, in such an opportune time," said Mrs. Elliott "For Mr. Elliott has been away from home on business lately, and now he is here with nothing to do but enjoy your company, and he delights in seeing old friends." "Thank you. I am sure my visit will give me as much pleasure, as it can him; though I did not anticipate seeing him when I left home, nor even when I was on my way back early this morning ; but you shall hear about it, and how I am situated. I have a son in the northern army, and two in our own; then I am guardian to a couple of nephews in Hood's army, whose property is in North Carolina, and circumstances rendered it necessary for me to come on and attend to it as speedily as possible. It was a work of considerable difficulty to get through the lines, but I succeeded after a number of trials, and hope I shall get back with less trouble." "What, are you not living inside our lines?" asked M*. Elliott in surprise. "No; my home is at some distance beyond. You would be surprised though, to know how many times it has been on both sides, and how accustomed we have become to the sur prises, exigencies, and emergencies such a situation calls up. Now, we are likely to remain undisturbed till the war ends, so I did not feel as much distressed at leaving my family, as I should have done at other times." "Richmond is such a coveted city, I suppose many other places are left untroubled, in order to concentrate forces." "Whatever the cause, I am glad the tide rolled away from us. From myson,Strother, who is a Colonel in the northern army, I learned news which made my business imperative, and I should be greatly distressed if I feared my family were not in safety. In order to I attend to my nephews' affairs properly, it was I necessary to send out letters by a WilmingI ton blockade runner, and await replies. As I I had little to do in the meantime, I went to ft Georgia and made a visit to Rupert and Phelps, my nephews. A few days in Hood's army tired me of camp life, and I started back to j^r Wilmington, by way of Savannah and Charleston. On the train from Savannah, I sat on the seat with a very intelligent man, and in the ! course of'our conversation, found he lived ; about a mile from you, so I determined to i come and see you. I got off the train with j the man, and he brought me to your gate." "It was Mr. Wright, I presume. He has been to Savannah lately." "Yes, Wright; that's the name." "Why did he not come in with you ?" asked Mrs. Elliott. "He said he had been from home several days, and must go on; but would come over during my stay." "I am really obliged to him," said Mr. Elliott, "for bringing you from the depot; and * * * - i. x x! >1 am giaa cnance tnrew you iwu togemer. "He seems to be a man of very fine mind; with that strong good sense which looks at facts, and is not blinded by the noise and show by which so many are dazzled and deceived." "I think him a sensible man, but have seen too little of him to be a correct judge of his character and principles. He stands high among his neighbors," was Mr. Elliott's reply]; but ^s. Elliott added? "I have seen him a number of times, and can confirm your estimate of his mind. I like his wife very much, too, and hardly know what Grace would have done for society out here in the country, if it had not been for Ellen, their daughter. Then Susan is a good playmate for Alice." "Is there none of the family for you to claim as a friend ?" asked Mr. Henry of Conway, who did not look so interested as her sister. "We generally have some of our relatives, or city friends with us, and I rarely form acquaintances outside of our own circle. It has been unusually dull lately with us, but we shall have company before Christmas." Mr. Henry looked at her a moment, and read, as plainly as if written on her countenance, "These Wrights do not belong to our set;" and as if in answer to her thoughts, he said? "I make it a rule to gain a friend in every one who is thrown by Providence in my immediate neighborhood. I do not admit all to my intimacy, nor crowd into theirs; but I have found some of my most valued acquaintances in unexpected places, and in various stations." If this was intended as a rebuke, it was given with too much delicacy to offend even Conway, whose temper was high but not hateful; proud but not overbearing. "That must be your rule, Georgia." said Mr. Elliott, looking fondly at his wife. "You find, or make a friend of every one you meet." "Georgia!" said Mr. Henry musingly. "Didn't you write, in the last letter you sent me, something about a Miss Georgia, who had sent your old flame in New York back toward the artic regions, and was making your heart turn toward the tropics ?" "I might have done so, though I've forgotten what I wrote?for my wife was Miss Georgia Church, of Georgia, and I married her in little more than a year after Miss Van Hitter jilted me." "I heard you flirted with that New York belle, but if it was the same Miss Blanche Van Kitter 1 met, the year oeiore, ac me Springs, you made a happy exchange, if looks are a criterion," and Mr. Henry bowed gracefully to the ladies, who so well sustained the reputation of their mother's family for beauty. No handsomer ladies than Mrs. Elliott, and her oldest daughter, Georgia, were ever seen in Charleston, till Conway and Grace became their rivals. Conway knew and rejoiced that she was fully as beautiful as her mother, and had a more regal air and manner ; but Grace could not believe she should ever equal her mother and Georgia in face, form, or sweetness of disposition; though many of her friends and relatives knew she was the flower of the family. "I was not flirting," said Mr. Elliott. "I was in real earnest, and Miss Van Ritter would now have been Mrs. Elliott, if two millions, offered her by one of the "nouveauz riches," had not been more potent than ray name and family, with half that sum to back it." "the happy look Mr. Elliott gave his wife, showed Mr. Henry that being jilted had not hurt him, and her answering glance as sbe said, "My children and I have reason to thank Miss Van Ritter," spoke a volume of trust and affection. "You have been married twice, I think ?" said Mr. Elliott. "Yes. My first wife was a Miss Strother, of Virginia. She left one child, a son# who is now a strong unionist, as his mother's family all are. Though we differ on political subjects, we have agreed to disagree, and not let our affection be lessened." "Few persons could do that, I fear," said Mr. Elliott. "Yet it is the best way, when people differ honestly," added Mrs. Elliott , "My family has been singularly blest in | being one in love, considering how we are divided in other respects; for my present wife, whose two sons are in Lee's army, was a northern lady. We have four daughters, one of whom has married a Federal officer since the war commenced, and one is engaged to Major Hunt of our own army." "Your family is the most mixed up of any I've heard of," said Mr. Elliott. "And yet you say you are united in affection ?" "Entirely, and perfectly. I think Strother loves his step-mother better than he does me." "Is she a unionist ?" asked Grace. "No, indeed. Strother laughs at her, and says she is a renegade and traitor for turning against her fatherland ; but she replies, that her country is that of her husband and sons. He threatens to confiscate her property, which is invested at the North, and she retorts, 'she is able to lose it. Her happiness does not depend on money. She is an heiress in her own right, if she loses every centand Strother catches her in his own arms, calling her 'his darling little rebel mother, who is all right in her heart, if she does have a wrong twist in her head.'" And Mr. Henry looked as if proud of both mother and son. "Is there not danger that some one will confiscate your wife's property ?" asked Mr. Elliott. "There might have been, but Strother has arranged it so we do not fear losing it now. He has a good head for business." "You spoke of living in a section overrun by both armies. Would it not have been better to have gone to some safer place ?" "You have asked a hard question, Mrs. ! Elliott; one which can be answered yes, from one point of view?no, from another; and, it is hard to say, from a dofcen. We are not in the direct path of the great armies, and no 11 battles have beeu fought very near; but hun * dreds of soldiers have been around us at differ i, ent times. For weeks we would not see one then we would have dozens quartered on us i We have been left without a mouthful of food a horse, cow, dog or cat, and we have hac more provisions than we could use, whoh wagon loads having been abandoned almos at our door. We have been threatened anc . cursed, protected and blessed, by both sides ' We have had southern men to secrete anc help to a place of safety; and northern ones to send off in hot haste. Two skirmishes took place so near thai bullets struck the house, and we bad th< wounded on both sides to nurse. We hav< , thought annoyances intolerable while thej lasted, and been thankl'ul they were no worse when over. In fkct, our experiences hav< been so varied and exciting, they would make quite an interesting book." "I could not have staid there. I shoulc have fled to some safer, pleasanter region," saic Mrs. Elliott "There are so many different things to in fluence people, it is almost impossible to tel beforehand what they will do. In our case the first events which befell, happened so un expectedly there was no chance to escape the next were so soon over we did not mine them ; and after that, we found we were nol only a protection to our house?a very fin< old ancestral mansion, but were where w< could hear from our children much oftenei than if we were on less debatable ground Our two youngest daughters were at school ir Maryland, and the others have all their moth er's coolness and courage; so I don't knov but we have done as well by regaining in oui own home, as we should in a new, undisturbec place. The conclusion of the whole matter is we are tired and sick of the war, and are glac it is nearly ended." "Do you really think the war is nearly over?" asked Mr. Elliott. "Yes, I am sure of it; but it will not end a we desire." "Don't say that. You can't think it," saic Mr. Elliott earnestly. "It will never do tc dream of any but a favorable .termination." "I wish I could believe there was an] ground for hope, but I am too well informec of the situation and resources on both sides to be blind to what is inevitable." Here followed a long and exciting conver sation,each giving his views and reasons, anc combatting those of the other, but ending a last with, "Well, time will show which of us i right" "You must come back then and rejoice witl me for having looked on the bright side, anc been justified in doing it," said Mr. Elliott. "And you," said Mr. Henry, must go 01 witb your family in about a year, and join ui in celebrating my silver wedding. We wil enjoy ourselves as best we can, and try anc forget the humiliation of being conquered." "This State will never be conquered. I will be steeped in blood from the sea to th< mountains, before that day shall come. Wher all our men are dead, we may be overpower ed; but conquered, never 1" "South Carolina cau do no better than Vir ginia." "0, yes ! We have the experience of Vir ginia to teach us; and the discipline of yean has perfected the skill of our men till thej are surpassed by none in the world. On theii native soil they will be invincible. The Pal raetto State will show herself unshorn of hei strength and preeminence, umess the war end: before our foes dare bring the seat of war be yond its threshold." Mr. Henry sighed. He did not share th< enthusiasm of his friend ; nor did he see how soldiers could fight better than Lee's had, nc matter what State they were in, or from. Sherman's army was advancing steadily and surely; and he had seen enough while h( was visiting his nephews in Hood's army, tc know that, outnumbered as that general was he could do but little. He had sacrificed mer to satisfy the cry of civilians for a battle, and had lost much for a doubtful gain. "Unless your defenses are better than those I passed, it would take an immense host tc keep Sherman from crossing the Savannah river, either at Augusta or Savannah." But we pass over the discussion on thif point?the talk of the fall of Atlanta, and the effect it had on the country, and the othei matters which kept the two men interested until the "wee sma' hours ayant the twal.' They argued and differed, neither convincing the other, till if Mr. Henry had been les5 cool, they might have had a "pitched battle'1 of controversy. Mr. Elliott became quite heated, but his habitual courtesy restrained him from anything offensive; and Mr. Henry, with quiel tact, led the subject into a less exciting channel. The man wVir> l?t a cnn diffpr frnm him on vital questions, did not find it difficult to allow a friend to do the same on minoi points. CHAPTER II. MR. ELLIOTT BEGINS TO BE ACQUAINTED WITH A NEIGHBOR, WHOM HI8 WIFE AND DAUGHTER HAD FOUND OUT LONG BEFORE. "His life was gentle; and the elements So mixed in him, that nature might stand up, And say to all the world, This is a man /" Shakspeare. "It is not mirth, for mirth she is too still; It is not wit, which leaves the heart more chill, But that continuous sweetness, which with east Blesses all round it, from the wish to please." Mr. Wright came over the next day, and after a few remarks, "the situation" had a little rest, while agriculture was given a fail hearing. Mr. Henry heard something new about long staple cotton and rice-culturefrom Mr. Elliott, and upland cotton from Mr, Wright; and they in turn heard new things about the cultivation and manufacture of tobacco. After that, books and literature were introduced, and Mr. Wright came out in an unexpected light to Mr. Elliott, who had considered him a pretty fine man, for one in hit station?the owner of a good plantation, and , some thirty fiegroea, but not an educated man, nor by any means an equal of the old, hightoned families?the aristocracy. Mr. Elliott i had a good deal of the "rank makes the man" , in his views of people. Mr. Henry had larger, broader views?was not so cramped by prejudices and exclmiveness and had the art of sounding and bringing out a person. Mr. Wright, pleased to meet a man , of unusual intelligence and cultivation, soon gave himself up to the charm, and conversed ; with ease and freedom. After a talk foi . hours on interesting subjects, Mr. Henrj i was so much surprised at his acquaintance - [ with things not generally understood by men ; outside of scientific pursuits, that he asked? ; i "Have you made the study of these subjects . j a specialty, that you are so familiar with ,: them ?" 1 "Oh I no, not all. I am fond of reading, 3 and knowing this is an age prolific in invent tions and scientific research, I take an inter1 est in noting those things which I consider . particularly valuable." 1 "I should think, though, you had given i some of them much study." "Perhaps I have; more than my last remark t would indicate, for I have a large family 2 growing up with few advantages, and I read 2 and talk with them a great deal on whatever r we think important or interesting. Someone , reads aloud an hour or more every night, after 2 supper, and then we review and criticise the 2 article under consideration. We often have as animated discussions as if the 'fate of na1 tions' was depending; and I have to think ! carefully on many subjects to explain correctly and give my children right views. It is - easier to put correct ideas into their heads [ than get wrong notions out, bo I may study , more than I was aware of." "I think you must, from some of your con; vernation this morning," said Mr. Henry. 1 "And do your children like so much readt ing? I should think they would dislike the 2 sight of a book," said Mr. Elliott, who cared 2 for little beside the papers of the day, and r thought all children hated learning. "They never weary of it. It is a perpetual i source of pleasure. Some of them are old - enough to review a work quite sensibly." j "What style of books have you read with r your children ?" asked Mr. Henry. 1 "The first two years of the war, we took in , hand a number of old standard works, which I are rather dry to most young people, yet are expected to be familiar to all reading persons, r Then we took up history, the modern poets, and enough light reading to keep us from 3 yielding to the spirit of gloom, anxiety, and croaking, which seems to taint the moral at1 mosphere of the community." > "Then you think light reading has a use ?" said Mr. Henry. j "0 yes, but it must not be trash. Scott, I Dickens, Thackery, and some of our Araeri, can writers, are a blessing to the world. Of all authors, in my department of litera ture, give me Irving. He is delightful. He I throws a charm over the dryest details, or the t dullest incident. In my estimation he has no 3 peer." "When a man is enthusiastic over an aui thor, it is easy to see what his taste is, and I 1 must confess I agree with you in regard to Irving. Is he the one your family have in hand l now ?" 3 Mr. Henry was more interested than Mr. 1 Elliott, and did no': suffer Mr. Wright to be 1 silent from want of incentives to talk on. "No. We are selecting passages from hiat tory, and I am constantly disappointed;" and 3 an absent, thoughtful look stole over his face, i "In any particular respect f" inquired Mr. - Henry. "In regard to the state of a country after a - civil war is over; and' histories are wofully barren on that subject. Chapter after chap ter is devoted to leading men, their acts, char3 acters', and motives; while the actual state of .v _ 1? j.i a>?. j c *i 7 me country, tue euui us uuu weans ui me peur pie to recuperate their crippled energies, and - the things which contributed most to restoring r prosperity are scarcely mentioned, or are hud3 died into a brief chapter in such general terms they give no information. Now, I consider that the people who are left broken up, and ? despoiled?as they are where the armies have i been for nearly four years?are going to have > as hard a time when the war is over as now. We may soon be as badly situated as they r who have stood the storm so long, and when I ; look to history for a lesson of wisdom to take ? shelter under in that day, the pages are nearly , blank. I fear I shall have to go to that dear i school which experience keeps, whether a fool I or not;" and Mr. Wright's genial nature shone out again, driving the light cloud from his i face. t Mr. Elliott looked at his neighbor in surt prise; he began to see more in him than he had found out in all the years since he had ) met with him. But for Mr. Henry's visit, 1 and his characteristic manner of putting : people in their proper light, and keeping them I at their ease, Mr. Wright would not had the ' opportunity of giving himself justice in Mr. ; Elliott's eyes. Mr. Elliott lacked the art of ) making himself congenial to those he fancied ' a little beneath him in position; he could be patronizing and condescending, but it took a i third party?his wife, Grace, or some one like Mr. Henry?to put him en rapport with them; ; but it must be said to his credit, he was not wilfully blind, and when he did see merit, did not contemn it. i "Nnw vnn sneak nf it.. Mr. Wriorht. it strikes " J 1 "J -? - - - "O -? i rae histories are in fault in that respect. Though I have never read one from the motive you mention, it is a practical idea, which we shall.soon have to put into practice." "Don't you two men begin to croak, and ( talk gloomily," said Mr. Elliott. "We shall , see such prosperous times as never were known, . when we have conquered and become an independent nation." "Prosperity is not the immediate attendant of any war, especially a civil one," answered Mr. Wright "But we'll show the world a new lesson. \ The South is bound to be great, powerful, and prosperous." 1 Mr. Elliott was determined to impart his i hopes and spirit to both if possible; but while neither was dejected, they could not share his r views of the future. Mr. Henry, because he i thought the South was nearly conquered. . Mr. Wright, though doubtful which way the i war would terminate, believed hard times were an unavoidable accompaniment to such a dess perate struggle. i "Are you a rfative of this State ?" asked Mr. Henry, after a break in the conversation, i No, I am a North Carolinian. I only came I here the year before the war." i "Are you one of the Wrights from the southern part of the State ?" enquired Mr. ; Elliott. ' "I was from near the middle. I lay no nlnim tn lrinshiri with anv of the old families. i We were just plain, hard-working folk who , thought a great deal of a little learning and ; energy, but didn't know whether our anceei tors were great or not. We know we are of i English descent, and that is about all. My I wife is of Scotch blood, and has a pedigree al most as long as a Jew's, but I never care for ' it." To Mr. Elliott this frank avowal was almost an acknowledgement of inferiority; to Mr. I Henry it was a confirmation of his theory, that though gentle blood was not to be despised, yet brains and culture were the principal things after all. "Stay to dinner, Mr. Wright; we dine at five," said Mr. Elliott cordially. His politeness and hospitality never permitted him to flight a guest, and Mr. Wright was not low, if he was unable to trace his ancestry to the time when nations were founded, by the dispersion of the aspiring builders of the Tower of Babel. UTltAnU T A VM OA AAtinf fttfi fl/1 on/1 JL IJIV Li IV JKJUf UUl JL aiu OU WUUWJU\.U uuu unfashionable as to have dined at noon," said Mr. Wright, smiling. "Then you can surely eat again at five, for we always have a lunch in the middle of the day." "I rarely eat much at night; and I have some business which requires my attention before dark, but I thank you as heartily as if I had enjoyed the dinner." Mr. Henry promised to go over before he left, and the 'Good Evenings1 had been said, when Grace met Mr. Wright on the piazza, with a book in her hand. "Here is a work of Hugh Miller's, which will be interesting to you, as it speaks of the hard times in Scotland after some of her internal wars and broils. Miss Ellen and I were speaking of it the other day, and I promised to send it." "Thank you, Miss Grace. I always read anything of Miller's with pleasure and profit. Have you read that volume ofDe Quincy's I thought you would like?" "Not yet. I haven't finished the other work you sent me; it requires too much thought to hasten over. Have you read the sermons I suggested to you as being equal to those of your North Carolina fovorite, Dr. Deems ?" "A part of them, and I will acknowledge your opinion of their merits is none too great; but while I concede Robertson is a great and good preacher, I cannot give up my church for yours." "If you only knew and understood our church well, you would consider it an honor to be in it" "0, you will find me a hard subject for a convert. I don't doubt your having received special grace, by the 'laying on of hands,' but I should have too little faith to have any unction granted me." "Ah 1 you can laugh now, but if uncle Ellison had remained, and you had attended services regularly, you would have thought differently by this time." "Mr. Ellison is a good man, and a fine preacher, but he, too, believes the world has need of flying artillery, as well as immovable forts and stationed cannon." "He is far more liberal, to what the English call 'Dissenters,' than most of our clergy." "And it is to his credit. Did you ever think that the word Dissenter harms us as little as Protestant did your church when it dissented from Papal errors and protested against them ?" _ "I can't say that I ever did ; we must have a talk about it some day. Why does not Miss Ellen come over? I must see her before the week is out, though she owes me two visits already." "We cau bear a third one, very readily, if you find it pleasant to turn your pony's head that way. I shall be working in the blacksmith shop on Friday, if you wish to see 'the flaming forge and hear the bellows roar.'" And they shook hands and parted with pleasant thoughts aud smiles. "Ah! here is a new phase," thought Mr. Henry. "The daughter sees the true worth of that man, and meets him on the plane of his merits. They look and speak to each other from the heart; but Elliott here?who is a fine man in many respects?is hedged in by conventionalities and prejudices, till he has never been able to understand or appreciate his worth. I reckon, too, the ladies have met him frequently in his own house, while Elliott has not. I see Miss Grace takes her sweet sympathies from her mother, and will win hearts from high and low by her loveliness of disposition. Miss Conway will conquer by her beauty, spirit and wealth; she will be feared and bowed to, where her sister will be loved. Stuart and little Alice are so much like both parents, that circumstances, more than natural bias, will make them proud, haughty and opinionated, or energetic, selfreliant, useful and amiable. I think, from her portrait, Georgia, the married daughter, must be very much like her mother and Grace. Claude, I see, was an Elliott in every sense, but as death, like frost, sweetens acid fruit, he is now a saint and martyr in the hearts of all the family. Russell is an Elliott, with enough of his mother in his looks to show he can be assimilated to the various changes of life, if change should come while he is young." Mr. Henry's reverie was now interrupted by the reentrance of Mr. Elliott, and the two old schoolmates were soon busy recalling the scenes of their younger days; interesting to them, but not necessary here. They had discussed the present, learned much of the history of each other for the last thirty years, and now reveled in the memory of the days of "auld lang syne." Mr. Elliott found that Mr. Henry had been very wealthy, but the desertion of most of his negroes and the devastations of the war had borne heavily on him. His wife's fortune had been invested so that it had been of no use to him since the war, but he expected to have it after peace was declared. It was considered fortunate, that Mrs. Henry would never consent to its being used for the purchase of ne- ] groes, for now nothing was less uncertain I property than they. # i Mr. Henry learned that Mr. Elliott had ] been driven from his sea-island home at the i beginning of the war, and had abandoned his 1 rice lauds, when our own forces extended their line of defenses along the coast. His house t in Charleston had been burned in the great t fire, and his wife's health would not admit of i living up the country in the winter ; though ? his negroes were there, and they went up in 1 the summer. The place he was making bis ^ temporary residence was a summer resort for j the overseers'families, and the home of a few t small planters, but it was very thinly settled. The house oc upied was one erected by old s Mrs. Elliott when she had become too feeble f and rheumatic to enjoy summer trips to the i springs, mountains, and other places of fash- 8 lonable resort. It was commodioas and com- \ fortable, but not elegant. After his mother's f death, Mr. Elliott had found it one of the most useful things in his legacy, and his wife pre- t ferred it to any house they had been in since 3 the loss of her house in town. c Mrs. Elliott missed church privileges more j than society. At first they had regular services by Mr. Ellison, a brother-in-law to Mr. f Elliott; but he was now chaplain in the army, \ and the missionary who came into the neigh-1 i borhood once a month, was not calculated to 11 edify persons of taste and culture. Mrs. El- i 1 liott always went to hear him ; and occasion- y ally rode four or five miles to a Baptist meeting, which was also held monthly, but it was not like the impressive liturgy of her own < church; and reading prayers at home did not 1 satisfy, likegoingwith "the great congregation I to the sanctuary of the Lord." j < Mrs. Elliott had formed the acquaintance of t every person in miles around, she was a friend ? to all, and universally beloved. Grace or < Alice often accompanied her in her visits to < the poor, but Conway could not be persuaded i to take an interest in them, and often laughed ? '1 ? 1 J - /TV A ? * , at ner motner sscnemes auu euoris 10 impruve | the poor and ignorant. a "It was enough for her to see the plebian that clung to her mother and Grace, afler a visit to those low people, without mingling with them, and as for the overseers' families, they aped the rich till they disgusted her; so she'd rather stay at home than condescend to them," and they in return did not feel at ease, or wish fotanother meeting, when chance threw them near the proud beauty. The Wrights were the only family really admitted to a close intimacy, for in fact they were superior in mind and education to all the others; but not one who ever met Mrs. Elliott, could dislike her, whether they were admitted on a social footing or not CHAPTER III. SOME CHARACTERS BY SIGHT, AND SOME BY HEARSAY. "Virtue alone is true nobility."?Jonson. "His preaching much, but more his practice, wrought A living sermon of the truths he taught." Deyden. Grace had liked Ellen Wright from the first day of their acquaintance, and the attachment had been mutual; each succeeding year deepening their friendship, as they found how much there was to make them love each other. Grace was quiet, observing, cheerful, but not gay. Ellen was lively, sparkling, witty, with a fund of strong good sense and a happy way of expressing it. Not beautiful, like Grace, but too good looking to be called homely, one would declare, after a five minutes' conversation, she was more attractive than if rMrtilariv handanma Even Conway owned, "There was something ' pleasing about Miss Ellen, but she had her < own set of friends, and needed no new one3." Mrs. Elliott found a good neighbor and i sensible woman in Mrs. Wright, and often 1 took great pleasure in the unaffected compa- i ny of her newly acquired friend, who was so ? different from her oity guests, and in some 1 things most agreeably so. With a large family, few servants, and one 1 or two neighbors whom she liked, Mrs. Wright 1 seldom found time to dress and ride over to < Mrs. Elliott's for a ceremonious call?and at j that time she would make no other?and i when she went and found a houseful of stran- I gers, who knew much less of her way of life i than she did of theirs ; who took her in from 1 head to foot with one cold look, and then ig- i nored her presence ; or who, in tryiug to put 1 her at her ease, discomposed her; she was stiff I and silent, and nothing like the warm, cordial 1 motherly lady, so pleasant and sensible at 1 home. Though Mrs. Wright met such recep- i tion only once or twice?and th?a- Mrs. j Elliott was not to blame?she left most of the visiting to be done by her richer neighbor, who understanding her feelings, would not stand on ceremony, but rode over in her pony carriage and spent an hour or two every : week. Sometimes Mr. Wright would be at the ; house, and then the conversation would leave < the subjects so engrossing to mothers and housekeepers, and branch off into the fields of ! literature and art, where Mr. Wright was ful- ' ly as much at home as Mrs. Elliott, saving that she had traveled and seen most, while he had read and thought most. Mrs. Elliott had appreciated Mb. Wright, long before her husband had found out there ' was anything at all in the man. i Ellen soon learned to make her visits to < Grace, with perfect freedom. She was un- i awed by the airs, manners, dress or stiffness i of some, and not flattered by their condeacen- 1 sion. She could assume as much reserve and i coldness as any one; and it was only when < met in a free and cordial way, that she was < companionable. Regard and attentions had ; to he given with ease and warmth to be ac- i cepted., ] Many a time Bhe amused her mother by i accounts of what she had seen and heard; 1 never maliciously, but often mischievously i caricaturing those who thought themselves too grand to notice one in the "golden mean" of 1 life. 1 "I like to see them," she would say, laugh- i inrr. "and I'm crninc there as Inner as Mrs. I O' O D ?' O Elliott and Grace make me welcome. I learn < something about high life and grand people, not to be found any where else in this neigh- ( borhood; and I find as I expected, that ladies, ( real ladies, are the least set, formal and grand, t yet the most refined. They have no need of 1 airs, show, and pretence; they are 'born to j the purple.' I want to grow easy, graceful, \ polished and refined. Who knows but some i day I may be rich, or more wonderful still, 1 marry a man with 'blue blood' in his veins." ? And the merry sprite would spin around t singing, or cut some little caper, wnich would 1 make her mother smile; and then would cry in mock distress, "0, I know I shall neeH c kitchen accomplishments more than parlor s grace; for father won't let me marry any man r unless he's poor; poor enough, to have some c spur to bring out his energies. All the rich 1 young men I've seen seem undeveloped? theres something lacking in them. They are a too soft, effeminate, or lazy. I can hardly t tell what they need, but they are not like c father." e "It is not often you find a man like your father, and you must not judge those raised h in the lap of luxury by him; nor must you r sxpect them to appreciate him. They do not v wish for energy, activity and the strong look v seen in your father; they cultivate that list- e [ess way of looking and moving, called repose }f manner, till it runs into laziness." 1< "I should think the stirring events of the I last four years would have taken it all out of e< ihem. I'm sure brother Charles was superior S o any of the young men I've ever seen at Mr. w Elliott's; and he was all life and enthusiasm ; ind Tom is iust as good : and there isn't a y azy bone in him." g' "Your brothers were like their father, and ;hen they have not had soft places, like all tl .hose rich men's sons. I don't know one who c< s not in some fat office, on the staff of some p general, or home in some government business; w jut I don't blame them since poor Charley vas killed. I'd put Tom in some safe, easy h )lace if I could," and a tear was wiped from n he mother's eye. a "Well, mother, I wish Tom was in a safe h ituation, but I don't care about the easy one, ai 'or he has so much restless energy in him, he g night fall into bad habits. There! you see I a* im more thoughtful of his morals than you h< vere. I don't believe you knew I had any k brethought, did you f" re "0,1 give you credit for many good quali- ei ies, and hope you will gain many more. Can't is rou put down your sewing ana make a pud- tl ling for dinner? We haven't had a batter judding in a long time." w Ellen went off to the storeroom singing, and lo 'or a few- moments her voice, sweet and clear, hi vas heard carolling a Scottish song. In half in hour she came bacK ana toox up ner sewing uechanically, but her fingers dia not fly as limbly as usual; her face was grave, and she vas strangely silent. "What is it?" asked her mother after awhile. "I was thinking of Mr. Ellison. He is a lifferent man from the others I have met I lope he will not be killed." "I hope so too. He is a good man?a living ;xample that religion is to be preferred to all .he honors blood and wealth can bestow. He jave up ease and luxury voluntarily, and levoted himself to a life of study ana good leeds. I shall love his church, for his- sake, f nothing else." "I think it is his influence that has helped nake Mrs. Elliott and tirace so pure ana unelfish." "And I can see it is his influence, that has cept my ambitious daughter from envying he high estate of our rich neighbors." "I think, mother, your and lather's content, ind usefulness in the sphere allotted you by Providence, and my early life among people vho valued mind and morals, more than rank lud wealth, laid the strong foundations, if Mr. Ellison baa helped raise the superstructure. I shan't let you two be cheated out of pour due for anybody, no matter how good." Mrs. Wright smiled. Ellen's lively raanier was always delightful to her. After a jause, Ellen's face grew grave again and she isked? "What was it Mrs. Elliott was telling you yesterday about Mr. Ellison ? Miss Grace wished to see my late verbenas, and I couldn't itay to hear it." It was a long story, but the substance of it was this: Mr. Ellison was a younger son of >ne of the oldest families in the State. When mrdly more than a boy, he fell in love with Miss Archie?the same lady after whom Grace s naraefl?and she warmly reciprocated his iffection; but marriages in great families are )ften made or broken by parents with little regard to affection, and as she was destined or Reginald Singleton, a man much older Jian herself, she was forced to discard the one ler heart had chosen. Singleton's family was no better than Ellison's, but hp was far richer, and that carried ;he day. Grace Archie was made to marry him, and Ellison, nearly' heart brokeD, was jent off to college. It was not a suitable natch. Singleton was not a man of fine sensibilities, and did not know how to appreciate his sensitive, enthusiastic, spirited, sensible wife, and though they did not quarrel, they vwild not alwavs harmonize. "Grace tried to be a good wife, bat she felt ill her husband's incapacity to understand her warm nature, and was often chilled and repressed. After Jack was born?that same Jack your father says has more sense than all the other men who come to Mr. Elliott's?she had a harder time than ever, for she wished him to be raised a good boy, and his father thought it was cunning to teach him all kinds of mischief. She never interfered when Singleton made the child climb, ride, swim or jhoot, though he was hardly more than a baby; but when he gave Jack wine or brandy, and taught him to curse, she 'fought fire with fire.' For the drinking, she gave bitter or nauseating medicine, ana persevered in it till the child would take a severe whipping from bis father before he would taste a drop of liquor. To break him from profane words, his mouth was washed with soapsuds, or something equally disagreeable, and he was told haw had and wicked it was to use them. "She wept and pleaded with her husband not to teach the child to be wicked, but he seemed to think it was only fine fun, and nothing very wrong. She never left Jack with his father when she could avoid it, and always punished him if he obeyed his wicked orders; yet the child loved her with all his heart, and only feared his father." "But mother, this is not telling me about Mr. Ellison; it was his history I wished to hear." "Well, I was coming to it His life is all wound np with the Singletons and Elliotts. He gained great credit for scholarship, and was preparing to study law, when he met with a great change, and law was given up for divinity. This displeased all his relatives, except one great uncle, who 'was so eccentric as to believe religion was good for men, as well as women ; and to show his regard, he left all his great fortune to his pions nephew. This, and the death of two older brothers, made him even richer than Singleton. After he was oriained, he came home, married Mr. Elliott's youngest sister, and settled into one of the most benevolent and sainted men in the city. Fully half his income was given to the poor, and m so quiet and unostentatious a manner, that few of his intimate friends knew of his inbounded charity. "From being a gay fashionable woman, his wife became an active Christian, loving her husband devotedly, and aiding him in every way in her power. They had nothing to mar :heir happiness except the loss of their two children. "When Jack Singleton was about six years )ld, his mother died. She begged repeatedly )f Mr. Singleton to give Jack to Mrs. Elliott, md to let Mr. Ellison have the directing of lis education, but he would promise nothing. A.nd when she prayed him to give up the world, and be a Christian, he said, 'it was the wine in her head?the doctor had stimulated ler till she did not know what she said.' But ihe had no wine in her head when she died, ind her last words were?'Tell Mr. Ellison I eave my child to his prayers.' "Mr. Singleton seemed to feel his wife's leath quite deeply. He permitted Jack to tay most of his time with Mrs. Elliott, and lever again made him taste a drop of liquor, >r permitted a profane word in his presence, if le could prevent it "In a year or so, he married Mrs. Edwards, t widowed sister of Mr. Elliott, and as she had wo boys of her own, she was verv glad Jack hose to stay with her brother's children rathr than live with her. "She didn't see what made Georgia, who iad five children of her own, so fond of noisy, attle-headed Jack, who nearly set her crazy nth his continual restlessness and racket It jos astonishing! For her part, she was glad nough to be rid of the troublesome torment "Two years afterward, Mr. Singleton died, ;aving the most of his property to Jack. Mr. llliott was executor, but the direction of Jack's ducation was to be in Mr. Ellison's hands, o it came about that Grace Singleton's last ishes were granted. "Mr. Ellison taught Jack himself for some ears, and e? en when he sent him off to a ood school, he saw a great deal of him. "After Mrs. Ellison's health failed, and ley traveled from place to place, visiting slebrated springs and consulting eminent hysicians, Jack always spent his vacations ith them wherever they were. "When Mr. Ellison saw nothing could save is wife, he brought her out here to have her ear the relatives she liked best, and you know lore than I, about them then. It seems after is wife died, Mr. Ellison took no interest in nything for some months, but after his grief rew less violent, he joined Elliott's regiment 3 chaplain, more to be near Jack than because ^ 1 ' r* 1 TV _ b preierrea 10 de 80 iar irom nome. lie >ves Jack as if he were his own son, and Jack (turns his affection most warmly. Your feth' says they have more good solid sense than often found in people with little to rouse lem." Ellen did not speak; her thoughts were andering away to the one, who so dearly ved the child of his early love, and she saw im with new interest. [to be continued next week.]