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lewis m. grist, proprietor, j $ntre]jenbent Jfamilj ftetospajier: Jfor % promotion of tjie |}o!itical, Social, Agricultural anir Commercial Interests of % Sontjj. TERMS?$3.00 A YEAR, IN ADVANCE. VOL. 23. YOEKVILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, AUGUST 2, 1877. NO. 31. ike Jforg idler. MY HRST PATIENT. BY CAMMIE. Six years ago to-day ? Impossible! But it is though, for you are thirty-two to-day, and you were only twenty-six then, John Preston. I never look back to the year following my twenty-sixth birthday without an involuntary prayer that I may never have such another year of trouble and despair to go through. Six years ago to-day I took a temporary leave of my mother, and made my real start in life. As I seated myself in the comfortable first class carriage?my mother's arrangement?"first impressions, ray dear boy," she * " 1 naa saia, "are everyimug ??uu, wiw >uj paper open on my knee, left the unending bustle and noise of the modern Babylon behind, my mind dwelt in anticipation on the new life before me, and my news-sheet dropped disregarded. Would my dear father, had he lived, have approved of this start of mine in life? Should I accomplish, or be nearer accomplishing, my desire to make a name and standing in my profession by its means ? What kind of people should I encounter in the course of my professional duties, and would any of the said people condescend to admit the struggling young doctor into the select circle of their intimate acquaintance? These, and a thousand and one other conjectures kept my mind fully occupied during the hour and a half's ride between Paddington and my destination, Clokesham, a picturesque and old-world village nestling on the banks of Father Thames some few miles beyond the reach of the 6rst rush of London holiday-makers. Six months before I should have started with nothing but bright hopes on my journey, and without one regret to shadow my future. As it was?well, it could hardly be a regret, for this country practice might enable me the sooner to decide for my ultimate happiness or misery, instead of remaining in town taking friends' practices during their occasional holidays, as I had been doing for two or three years. It was while engaged in * ? 1 ? it-i T I 1 the last or tnese unueriasmgs mat i imu found cause for my present regret at leaving London. My old friend, Fred Hughes, who had been fortunate enough to step into his father's practice upon his retirement, called on me one morning, full of his intended trip into North Wales. "I should be off this day week if I could only get some one to look after my patients just for three weeks; the worst of it is that everybody else is either off, too, or just going off. Do you think you could do it for me, old boy ?" "Certainly," I replied, "if ray mother does not mind putting off her visit to Hastings for that time?" "Oh, I couldn't let you do that, you know I" "Nonsense," I said ; "we can go afterwards, but unless you go now I know you won't be able to go at all when your patients are back in town. "You are a trump!" exclaimed Fred, giving my hand a mighty squeeze. "Let me know for a certain to-night." So it was settled that we were to defer our outing until Fred had returned from his fishing expedition. My duties as substitute were not very heavy, as a large proportion of Fred's patients were, like himself, taking their annual holiday. One morning a hurried little note was forwarded to me from his surgery, requesting Mr. Hughes' immediate attendance at 16 Colville square, and signed "M. Betram." Fearing something serious, I started at once, and on my arrival found the household in a state of anxious excitement. "Mrs. Mason is at Rome, and has left the children under the care of their governess, Miss Betram, and the two younger ones are certainly sickening of some fever," the housemaid informed me, upon opening the door. Miss Betram, when she heard from my inquiries who I was, came forward to meet me. Shall I draw a word-picture ? From my owu memory it is impossible. It would be composed ofsweet hues and nameless graces. The features of a person form, after all, such a very small part of her individuality. But I have a miniature, and that I can describe to you. A sweet, pensive, clear, oval-shaped face looks at you with kind, thoughtful hazel eyes, which often look black from the deep shade of heavy lashes?but that is not in the miniature?the mouth is ereutlenesa and firm nesa combined?rare combination ! Looking at it, you would naturally infer that the owner thereof was a person to be obeyed simply because it was a pleasure to obey her, and this latter fact would in no degree weaken the former; delicate but perfectly marked eyebrows complete the face, which, framed in rippling bands of deep brown hair, smiles at me whenever I open my case to feast on its contents. Must I confess ray weakness, or have I not already confessed it? Looking back I know that I loved her there and then, as I stood talking in the hushed, shadowy hall. I did not know then why it was that I felt such a tender pity for her in her responsible position. I did not know why in addressing her I involuntarily dropped ray voice in emulation of her own soft tones, or why, in meeting her eyes, mine took an earnest expression, no matter how trivial the subject under discussion. Each day found me hastening to my anxious duties like a schoolboy to his play, and, when Mrs. Mason returned at the end of ten days and found her darlings on the road to recovery, thanks to the unwearied attention of their kind nurse, I awoke to the discovery that I loved deeply and passionately. No passing fancy for a beautiful face was this, but all-enduring love, such as a true man seldom feels but once in his life. The days slipped by all too quickly until the return of Fred, rollicking and robust from his holiday, when there was no longer the slightest excuse for my daily visits to Cole ille square. I heard from him of Mrs. Mason's departure for Ilfracombe with her farai1 rr on/1 \ liood r>n tho Knno nf fnhire mppfirxra *J> ? ?r~ ???toon their return. I hastened my mother from Hastings a week sooner than she wished, greatly to her mystification, that I might not miss one chance of seeing my darling, for I had determined, short as my acquaintance had been, to ask her if she could care for me enough to wait for one year that I might make a home for her, to ask if she would consent to brighten the world for me, and me for the world?to give me an object, an aim in life? to render myself worthy of her. After a week of patient waiting, I ventured to question Fred as to Mrs. Mason's movements, assuming a would-be air of nonchalance. "Oh! they are in town again," he said. "But that pretty governess is not with them"? this with a side long glance at me. "Mrs. Mason said something about family affairs and a runaway match?but that woman doe9 run on so that I can never follow her." I felt the treacherous blood leaving my face as I asked ? "Was Miss Bertram one of the parties concerned in the runaway match ?" "I don't think so," said Fred ; "but I cannot assert anything, because I paid so little attention to what was said." My old friend, had you known the hours of misery those heedless words would cause me, you would certainly, knowing so little, have said nothing. Weeks and months dragged their weary length along, and found me still dwelling hopelessly on the improbability of ever meetiDg my darling again. Sometimes, iu my despair, I aim09t resolved to write frankly to Mrs. Mason, asking the true particulars of MiBs Bertram's departure, and stating my reasons for so doing. But would my worldly position justify such a step? Had I any right, supposing such a thing possible, to bind a beautiful and accomplished woman by a promise which she might not be called upon to fill for years ? No?better that I should endure anything than claim such a sacrifice at the hands of the woman I loved. Then this Clokesham practice was offered me, on mo9t advantageous terms, by one of my father's old friends. More to please ray mother than from any interest I felt in the future, I accepted it, and was now on my way to commence, legitimately, my professional career. My predecessor at Clokesham, Dr. Black, remained a week with me. "I must introduce you to your patients and some of their little peculiarities, for a knowledge of the latter is quite as essential to your success, my boy, as any diploma in the world." ^ The evening on which he left me is still fresh in my memory. As I write, the scent of wood-violets, coming through my open window, takes me back to the walk to the station when I bade the kindly old man farewell. At last, then, I was "the doctor;" and during my walk home I experienced much the same sensation as on the occasion of my first visit to church alone?an overwhelming sense of the importance of the occasion, mingled with a strong desire that nobody should share with me the knowledge of the novelty of my position. Events crowd on my memory as I look back to the first morning after Dr. Black's leavetaking. I was sitting over my solitary break fast, wondering what the day would bring forth to take me out of myself, when a respectable servant-man came quickly up the walk, haste visible in every movement. "Now for my first patient," I said to myself, as be was shown in. "Please, Bir, Mr. Talbot says will you step up at once? His niece, Mrs. Freeman, is very bad with her heart?a swoon I think they called it." "I will be there as soon as you," I said, looking round for my hat. "Which is Mr. Talbot's ?" The large square stone house t'other end of the village, sir." "Very well, I will come at once." Benjamin Talbot is a member of the Society of Friends, and, in spite of his many eccentricities, is as true-hearted a gentleman as ever breathed. Though he lives rigidly by the rules of his sect himself, he always readily makes allowance for others' laxity, and his views upon things in general are invariably distinguished by the absence of all narrow-minded sectarian prejudices. He came to meet me in the hall, his pleasant face clouded with anxiety, and at once burst into an ejaculatory explanation of matters entirely incomprehensible to me. "Poor young thing?broken-hearted?no wonder?journey too much?never ought to ; have gone?only six months married." At last, despairing of gaining any satis: factory information, I interrupted him. "Don't you think it would be better for me to see the lady at once ?" I suggested. "Yes, doctor, yes. Come this way. But she is better now." We crossed the ball and entered the sombre and darkened dining room. At the far end, reclining in a large easy chair, was a lady in deep mourning, who rose languidly and turned as we came into the room. The machinery of ray heart seemed to catch and 8top altogether as I drew nearer and recog! nized my darling?my lost Jove?of whom I had never ceased to dream. Forgetful for the moment of everything but that we were once more face to face, I exclaimed? "How happy I am to see you again 1" Then I suddeuly thought this must be the Mrs. Freeman for whom I had been fetched; and the bitter knowledge that she was another man's wife rushed across me. I stood mute with misery, while an expression of the most unbounded astonishment crossed her face; and then I remembered her abrupt departure from Mrs. Mason's. Could there be any cause for mystery, for silence in the past ? I stood waiting. "Have you then met my niece before, Mr. Preston? said Mr. lalbot, sharing the surprised expression on her face. "No," I stammered. "That is, 1 thought." Then, seeing she was determined not to acknowledge a previous acquaintance, I recovered my self-possession by a desperate effort. "I mistook Mrs. Freeman for someone else," I said, bowing. "She must excuse my mistake?indeed the likeness itself is sufficient to excuse; it is marvellous!" She never flinched, but with the old sweet smile, held out her hand, saying? "I wish I could claim old acquaintance?it is always so pleasant to meet unexpectedly; but as it is 1 hope we shall soon be good, though not old friends." I bowed?words would not come just then? this perfection of acting astonished me so that I became absolutely silent. I took her hand, glad of the few moments, while I felt her ! pulse. "She arrived only last night," said Mr. Tal' bot?"has been traveling, almost without ! stopping, all the way from the Cape, and I expect she has over exerted herself. Eh, Mary ?" "Strain on the nervous system," I muttered through my parched lips. "Quietness, rest and tonics will do wonders." Then, rising in a helpless way, I bade them good morning, ; and groped ray way out of the house. "Oh ! Heaven," I cried, in the anguish of my heart, "why am I thus made the plaything of fate ?" I felt myself reeling, as the full misery of my position rushed across my mind, and instinctively caught at the railings of the house I was passing to save myself from falling. "John Preston," called a cheerful little cracked voice from the other side of the hedge, "what is the matter ? Are you going to faint ? Don't stand there in that dazed way?come in." So saying, the rector's sister, a kind little spinster, who had constituted herself my l mother's deputy since the first night of ray | arrival, took me by the arm and led me, like | the child she pretended to think me, into her j own littlesanctum. She insisted on my drinkj ing a terrific dose of neat brandy, and began | to chafe ray temples aud hands vigorously, holding forth all the time on the dreadful in| convenience of my biug ill. "Just now of all times, when there is a | charming young widow staying in the village : too! Why, at the very moment you fainted I outside my gate I was planning a nice little i tea-party for the express purpose of introducj ing you to Mrs. Freeman. She is a most | charming creature, I believe ; and to be a sue cessf'ul doctor, you know, you ought to be-" "What do you mean ?" I exclaimed, catching both her hands aud fixing my eyes eagerly upon her face "For Heaven's sake put an end to my misery! Is Mrs. Freeman and this widow you wish me to marry the same person ? For pity's sake, don't keep me in suspense!" And in my excitement I almost Bhook the little woman. "Why, bless the man, I do believe he's mad ! Yes, of course it's the same. Do we have so many charming young widows in this out-of-the-way place that there should be two at one time?" I jumped up and astonished the dear old soul by fairly bugging her, and exclaimed, in in a voice of deep thankfulness? "Thank Heaven?oh, thank Heaven !" "Dear me, dear me, what are you so thankful for?" she said, looking more bewildered, than ever as she set her cap straight after my i uncouth caress. Here was a dilemma ! My darling?I j might call her so now?evidently wished our j previous meeting to remain a tiling of the ! past; so I stammered indistinctly something about remains of brain fever, and changed the conversation by asking how long Mrs. ! Freeman had been in Clokesham. "Only Came last night. I have not seen I her yet, you know. She married poor Ned i Freeman?a runaway match?the only son of Mr. Talbot's only sister. He was a shocking young scapegrace, and went off to the diamond fields with his delicate young wife." "How long has he been dead ?" I asked. "I don't know how Jong; but I think he must have met his death in some disgraceful manner, for Mr. Talbot never speaks of him voluntarily, and if his name is mentioned, he only says, 'poor Ted, poor Ted! Enough to break her heart, poor young thing!" "Well, Miss Golding," I said, briskly, "I must Dot stay here talking scandal one minute longer." So thanking her warmly for her kindness, I set off, leaving her still in a state of considerable doubt as to my fitness for attending to other ailments. With what intense relief I found myself once more in the solitude of my little home, and sat down to think over, as calmly as I could, the events of the morning! My love was here, near to me, and free. I questioned naught as to her antecedents, her life since we had first met; she was free for me to woo and win if I could. My love swallowed all prudent scruples, all worldly wisdom, at one gulp, and there remained but the one fact that there she was; and I resolved to risk all to win this one love of my life. Some Bhort happy weeks passed by; we met frequently, and I felt that the pleasure of these meetings was mutual. That little note signed "M. Betram" was ray most precious possession. "Mary Betram"?I had always seemed to know that "M." meant "Mary." How long ago that morning appeared ! What a lifetime of wretchedness I had lived Bince then! Yet, in the midst of my happiness, a keen pang of disappointment would cloud it for the moment, at some indefinable change in my darling's character. The old steadfastness was wanting, the strength of will I had so much admired, and in its place there was a reliance on others which I should have thought impossible in her; the very thought seemed disloyal, and with an impatient sigh I resolutely stamped it down. One morning, on calling upon Mr. Talbot on parish business, and finding be was exAAAtAfl Knmo ATTAVW mlnntn T vrraQ aVirwvn intA ptl/LCU UUUJQ V T J iUlUUKU| JL iiitu wm\/ ii u m ?w the dining room to await his return. Mrs. Freeman was in the garden. How lovely she looked in the bright June sunlight, as, in her heavy black dress, she stood by a large oldfashioned rose bush, reaching up to pluck some white cluster roses which hung almost beyond her reach. "Wait one moment, Mrs. Freraan ; let me help you," I called out, exultant at the prospect of a few moments' tete-a-tete, and sprang through the window on to the lawn. "How do you do, doctor ? I want some of those white roses for my vases. Thank you. How pleasant it must be to be so tall and strong." "Yes, when it enables me to be of the slightest service to you," I said, and theu I hated myself for the coxcombry of the speech. "Ah ! yes," she replied, quietly, avoiding the compliment, "to be of service to those who want help must be the noblest use of strength." "You should know that feeling well," said I, my mind full of her unselfish devotion in those former days of oar acquaintance. "Why? I have never been of service to any one; on the contrary, I have always been an anxiety to everybody." Would she, even when alone with me, maintain that barrier of reserve about the past ? "And indeed it seems as if I am to continue so to the end of the chapter ; for, when every oue thought they had got rid of me, here I am, in less than a year, back again as dependent as ever, and this time upon ray husband's relatives. Uti ! dear, I wisn i were strong minded enough to face the world and work for my living for a time !" "Why should you feel dependence a burden," I blurted out, "while I?" The dignified astonishment on her face stopped me, and I completed my sentence by addiug, "even I, great strong fellow that I am, have been dependent upon my mother until a few mouths ago?" "Ah ! a mother is so different," she said, a touching sadness creeping into her voice. "I never knew my mother." I felt a passionate longing to take her into my arms and ask her to let me fill the void, to tell her my love was vast enough to supply every deficiency, to satisfy every want of affection she had ever felt; but the rebuke conveyed by her manner after my last outburst restrained me, and I took refuge in the universal topic, the weather. "Ah ! yes," she said, in reply to my remark on the storm of the previous night. "But you never have a real storm in England ; you should see such as I have seen in Africa, when I was at those terrible diamoud fields." "Were you nervous ? Did you not long for home and civilization ?" "Home !" she exclaimed, turning upon me with flashing eyes. "My home was in my husband's presence, ana nis love was my civilization ; my only nervousness was when he was cruelly taken from me." She hid her face in her hands. Her sorrow maddened me; I was even jealous of the dead. To ray relief, Mr. Talbot's cheery voice called to me from the window. I bent to her, and , whispered? "Forgive me, dear Mrs. Freemau ; I would rather give ten years of my life than willingly cause you pain." "I am very silly," she said, smiling through I her tears; you have dune nothing to need my forgiveness. Make haste in, or uncle will wonder what we are talking about." I silently pressed the little hand she held out to me, and left her standing by the roseJ bush. I fear Mr. Talbot was somewhat dissatisfied with my arguments that morning? my thoughts were far afield. At last, with an impatient sigh, we adjourned the discussion, and with a weary heart I took my leave. Alas, poor moth ! September came, touching the trees with wondrous warm tints of beauty, and found me still alternating between hope and fear. My darling seemed to avoid meeting me alone 1 now ; yet sometimes she would smile so bright a welcome at my coraiug as literally to intoxicate me with hope. But this suspense came i to an end. One evening a country lad came j for me hurriedly?"Some one is ill up at the j house and have frighted the master awful." i It was not till we stopped at Mr. Talbot's that 1 I discovered for whom my services were re! quired. "Mrs. Freeman," the housekeeper said, ' re i ceived a letter this evening?and after opening it she fainted away ; no sooner did she re! cover from one faint than another succeeded ; ; so I thought it better to send for you, sir, as her heart has been so bad lately." Why did I seem to feel any icy pang at my heart ? What was this fear that was creeping over me like the shadow of death, shutting out ! all light and joy from my life forever? Reso lutely I crushed my own feelings, and asked Mrs. Price if she knew the nature of the communication Mrs. Freeman had received. "No," she said "no one does?not even the master himself. We have been too busy attending to Mrs. Freemau to think about anything else." Quietly I followed her up stairs to where my darling lay, as white as the pillow beneath her. Mr. Talbot was sitting at the head of the bed, looking miserably worn and anxious. Mrs. Freeman's eyes were unnaturally large and bright, and the painful catching of her breath at once convinced me of her critical condition. "Oh ! Mr. Preston," she exclaimed, when I entered, "I am so glad you are come! They wont let me speak?and I must tell some one or I shall go mad. It is all quite clear now ; he i*b coming back to me, without suspici&i or blame, my own Ted, my dear husband. I know you will be glad to hear of my happiness?you have always been so kind." "Of course," muttered Mr. Talbot, springing from his chair?"the letter?Ted's writing," and he hurried from the room. And I, looking at the sweet face before me, saw that a close struggle between life and death was at hand, and, feeling all the happy hopes of the last few months fading with each word, I answered, quietly? "Your happiness must always be of interest tn me. mv dear Mrs. Freeman, and I con err at ulate you on your present cause for rejoicing; but you must let me talk to Mrs. Price a little now, while you try to get some rest." Haying told her the news, she seemed more contented and quiet, and after some few directions I went down stairs, feeling as though I had lived a life in that quarter of an hour of deep, bitter sorrow, but determined, Heaven willing, to fight with and overcome this love which had now become a Bin. Mr. Talbot was standing in the diningroom, a letter in his hand, and his face radiant. "Head that, John Preston," he said, pushing it across the table; "you have been a great comfort to the poor thing in her trouble? 'tis but right you should share the rejoicing." "This letter is addressed to Mrs. Freeman," I said?"I would much rather not " "Nonsense, nonsense," exclaimed the impetuous old man?-"read it; 'tis but a few words." Slowly and reluctantly, as though about to strike my own death-blow, I took the sheet from its flimsy envelope, and read? My own dear Wife?Virtue for once is triumphant. and vice bideth its head. James Burton has been taken and convicted for murder ; and, concluding that he might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb, he has confessed to bis share in the Bullis robbery, and completely cleared me; so, my darling, I am only waiting to realize, and then for merry England and your sweet face! Love to uncle Ben. Tell him I slia'n't want to run away from him and the mill any more; I have had enough of roving to last my life. Just time to save the mail! How I long to see you ! Your devoted husband, Edward Freeman. I placed the letter in its envelope again, and laid it on the table. I never see a foreign envelope even now without a vivid memory of the misery I then felt. Mr. Talbot, talking to himself in disjointed sentences, was pacing the room in too excited a state to notice my abstraction. "So the boy's coming back to live like a Christian in the land of his fathers! Ah, I knew how it would end. Poor girl! She always said it would come right! Well, John Preston, isn't it great?is it not grand ? Now you know why we have never talked of poor Ned. Thank Heaven the disgrace is wiped off the old name! How about my little girl up stairs, eh ? Ab, well, she'll have another doctor soon?Ned will soon put her right. You don't look the thing. Have a glass of wine? No? Then stay and eat some dinner with me. Well, you know best;" and so the hospitable old man literally talked me out of ear-shot. Oh ! fool, dolt that I have been, blindly to accept that view of matters which pleased me most, without assuring myself of the truth of what I heard ! Ah ! me, I was punished now for my credulity. For many nights I went to my sleepless bed cursing my fate, hating my kind, and wondering why heaven dealt so harshly with me, until everybody asked? "What has come to John Preston lately? He looks quite an oid man." The agony of those few dayB lined my face and bent my back more than ten years' work would have done. Strive as I would?and I did strive? my fate was too heavy for me. The daily visits to Mr. Talbot's tried me almost beyond endurance. IVk on Mro Fronmon awaIta fpnm t.hfi flfcll- I por which Sad succeeded the excitement, her only inquiry was as to the arrival of the next Cape mails, and I sat quietly by and listened and felt as a murderer in my heart I must have broken down if this had lasted much longer. Once morel wearily dragged myself into the presence of that other man's wife whom I still loved. On this occasion she was better, and, with a hard set smile, I listened to her raptures on the prospect of Ned's speedy arrival, and my poor, breaking heart, kept time to the music of her voice, as I held her hand in mine, and resolved to find some one to take my practice for a time, that I might go away and fight against my weakness by myself. As I listened lazily to her little purrs of delight, I heard, as in a dream, an echo of her voice in the hall below, and my poor worn out brain feebly endeavored to argue that I must be asleep in the land of dreams to hear her thus in two places at once. I passed my hand-wearily across my forehead, and determined to leave Clokesham on that very day, for surely my reason must be giving way to play me such tricks. "Are you not feeling well this morning?" she asked, observing my action. The personal question?the necessity for reply?roused me. "Yes, quite well, thank you." I could speak?then I was really awake I Could it be that I was going mad ? Still that echo came nearer and grew more distinct. "Who is that I hear?" I at length asked, fearing that she might tell me it was nobody, I. A??l * m ? r\ UUt UUJJ Ifjjr jailUJ The handle of the door turned as she answered merrily? "Oh, don't you know? Haven't you seen my double? That is my sister, my twin sister, Maud ; let me introduce you." Then as I turned I saw a lady standing in the doorway as in a frame?a lady the sight of whom sent my blood rusbiug through my veins like a mill-stream. Did my eyes play me false? No, it was impossible! Then, as I turned to the bed again, in mute astonishment, the whole truth flashed across me. "Is it not a remarkable likeness?" said Mrs. Freeman, laughing merrily. My heart gave a great bound of joy as I stumbled aoross the room to meet Miss Betram, who came forward, with the old, sweet, firm smile on her face?what a dolt I had been!?saying? "I am so pleased to meet you again, Mr. Freston. "Do you two people know each other?" asked Mrs. Freeman. She must have understood something from our manner, for Bhe ceased abruptly. As I stood there holding her hand, tracing all the strength of will and self-reliance I had missed in her sister, wondering each moment more and more at my own stupidity, in the silence of joy too deep for words, there was a sound of wheels. They stopped at the gate, and Mrs. Freeman started up, exclaiming? "What is that?" I hastily crossed the room to close the door, fearing any excitement, but it was too late. "Where is she?where's my birdie?" a loud, jolly voice called out. A pitiful cry of "Ned, Ned?my dear Ned !" came from the bed, and a big broadshouldered fellow came bounding up the stairs. I made way for him, and then we two went out and quietly closed the door; their joy was too sacred to be intruded upon. Silently I drew Maiid to a deep windowseat, and, imbued with the spirit of the time, in hurried whispers I told her my tale of love and sorrow. She listened in silence till a pause occurred, and then, looking up, she asked, quiet)y? "Are you quite sure it is me you love, and not my sister ?" "How can you ask such a question ?" I exclaimed. "I loved you from the first moment I saw you, and then when I saw your sister I loved just that part of her which seemed to be you." "And the other ?" she asked, with a merry smile. "Well, I just wondered, and was disappointed at the change; but tell me, Maud, do you think you can ever care for me?" She raised her fearless, truthful eyes to mine, and said? "I have always cared for you, John." I am ashamed to Bay that Mr. Talbot, who appeared at that, moment, looked highly scandalized at our next proceeding, until I explained matters in as few words as I could. When I came to my mistake, he exclaimed? "Why, bless my heart, if Ned had been dead, as you thought, you might have married the wrong woman !"?which was a view that I had not taken of the matter before, and that struck me as being unpleasantly probable. "Well, Maud," I said, as we sat that evening in the twilight, so dear to lovers, "you are not going to make me wait years for you now ; you must reckon my sorrow and unhappiness in deciding how long you want to make yourself magnificent?and let it be soon, darling. I shall never feel sure of you until you are indeed my wife." So it was settled that there was to be a wedding on that day month; but the wedding festivities and the five years of true bright L ! . I a I 3 - J 4l nappiuess tuai uuvu oucceeueu lucuj uiuoi ua imagined. To-day is, as I have said, my birthday, and that absurd wife of mine has insisted en a gathering of old friends. So my dear mother and Mrs. Mason, and Fred Hughes and his young wife, are coming to-day to eat dinner with us. And, as I write, I see coming down the village street, my wife, holding our eldest boy by the hand ; and I must close my desk to play the host, for by her side I see another of my birthday guests, My First Patient. fUitoflM Wat. FEARFUL RESULTS OF SOCIALISM. THE TROUBLES NOT YET ENDED. We devoted much space last week to the troubles in the North and West, which have their origin in a strike by the employes of the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad, and rapidly extended over other lines of thoroughfare, until, business was interrupted on nearly every railroad in the whole section of the Union, extending from Mason and Dixon's line to the Lakes. Aside from the loss of life and destruction of millions of dollars worth of property, all departments of business are suffering, while the provision markets in the cities are already seriously affected. In New York the fear was expressed last Thursday that if the con ditioo of affairs did Dot soon improve, the city would be without meat. For want of transportation all other branches of business are affected in the same manner?especially the grocery, metal, bide, leather and wool trades. While public feeling is feverish in . New York, there is a general conviction in the city that the police and military authorities are fully strong enough to quell any attempt to repeat the disorders there which have been attended with such disastrous consequences elsewhere. There is greater cause of apprehension at the seat of government, perhaps, than at any other point. When Governor Matthews, of West Virginia, applied to the President for Federal troops to suppress the mob at Martinsburg, to the great credit of the Chief Executive, he was slow to act?preferring first to be perfectly satisfied in his own mind that such intervention was warranted by the circumstances, as well as having a full and free conference with the members of his Cabinet on the subject. On receipt of the second telegram from Governor Matthews, urging the President to order troops to the scene of confusion, the local authorities being powerless to put down the disorder, the necessary orders were given, and with what results our readers are alreadv familiar. But after the strike assumed such extensive proportions, it was ominiously telegraphed from Washington that while the Government authorities were sending troops hither and thither, they were really keeping them as near to the city as possible, the object being to protect Government property, and especially to guard the treasury building against the attack of the mob. There was doubtless, and still may be, reason for this precaution, although the original strikers themselves profess to condemn the destruction of property or other wanton acts which have already rendered this outbreak memorable. Special meetings of the Cabinet, with direct reference to the troubles, have been held, and it is noticed in Washington that the officials are more embarrassed than they are willing to admit. From the beginning Secretary Sherman urged the immediate convening of Congress for the purpose of taking into consideration the troubles and devising by national legislation a remedy therefor. The strike has reached the ".Border States," as we were wont to call them during the other little unpleasantness; but as yet, we are happy to say the railroad operatives in the Atlantic States have manifested no sympathy in the movement, and it is not thought that they will. Indeed, such is the love of order, and so deep is the reverence for constituted authority in the South, that we think the proclamations heretofore issued by the President, warning the strikers in the Northern States, will have all needed influence in restraining Southern men, even granting that they otherwise would have foolishly entered into the combination. President Arthur, of the Locomotive Brotherhood, which organization extends throughout the country, and is supposed to include nine-tenths of the railroad operatives in the Union, declares that the Brotherhood as an organization is not connected with this strike, and his advice has been not to jeoparadize their lives nor compromise their manhood by joining in with it. He says the Brotherhood sympathize with the strikers, but not with the communistic principles tbat the strike has developed. We condense below the leading incidents of the strike that have occurred since the exciting scenes at Pittsburg, detailed in the Enquirer last week. At Louisville, Kentucky, on the 24th, the attempt to hold a meeting to pacify the workingmen was a failure. Two thousand assembled, but nothing formal whatever was acted upon. There were many boys and negroes present, and the crowd threw stones into windows and broke street lamps as they proceed- ! ed. Beaching the corner of Ninth and Broadway the mob attacked the freight depot of the Louisville and Nashville Great Southern Bailroad, smashing its windows and doors, and then marched to Tenth street and wrecked the windows of the Pullman Southern Car Company's building. Proceeding up Broadway with loud yells they stoned all the fine houses on this street until Third was reached. Coming in this avenue to Maj. Jacob's house, it was attacked, and then that of Dr. Edward Stanford, President of the Louisville and Nashyille Great Southern Bailroad, was attacked in the same manner. Along Walnut street, houses and stores were treated in the same manner. At the corner of Flood and Green Streets fifty policemen placed themselves in line, and when some one in the crowd yelled to attack them, the officers opened fire, shooting over the heads of the mob. The men and boys in the mob scattered in all directions. The damage done cannot be esti mated. After these occurrences seven hundred militia, many of them influential and worthy citizens, went on duty, armed with guns and pistols. The police was enforced to one hundred and seventy-flve. Business houses were closed, and the storekeepers and others joined the militia. The mayor ordered all liquor saloons to close, and effective measures were taken to suppress the least repetition of violence that might be attempted. In the Louisville riot, it is said the very worst elements are mixed in with the idlers who began the trouble. In St. Louis, on the same day, the mayor published a proclamation, warning all persons against the commission of acts of violence, declaring non-interference between the strikers and railroad companies, and announcing a committee of safety under the direction of Gen. A. J. Smith, Judge Thos. T. Ganet, Gen. John S. Marmaduke and others. At the labor meeting held in the same city on the previous night, one speaker said that they had seven thousand stand of arms in their possession, at which there were cries of: "Let us have them and we will use them," and another speaker charged the bloodshedding at Baltimore and Pittsburg upon the President of the United States. He sent the army into their midst to put down men struggling for their rights. The series of resolutions framed by the executive committee of the workingmen's party of the United States n">?? o/lnntad ^onlnrinn tViot fKav will Tlrtfc ntio auv|/vvu| viwiMtiug VUMH W MWJ ?* bold themselves responsible for any act of violence that may be committed, but will do all in their power to assist in keeping order and preventing violence. Their motto is: "Death to all thieves, incendiaries and murderers." They recommend a general strike of all branches of industry for eight hours for a day's work, and call upon legislators for the enactment of an eight hour law. After the meeting had adjourned a procession formed, which after marching through a number of streets crossed the river to east St. Louis, where a number of speeches were made. Only postal cars leave St. Louis eastward. The strikers there say there is no middle ground in this case; it is either absolute victory or defeat with them and they propose to make the issue square and clearly defined from now on, and to effect this they will put tot&l embargo on freight and passenger traffic. Their organization increases in strength and perfectness every hour; but so long as they are not interfered with in their purpose to obtain what they consider fair and just remuneration for their labor, there will be no violence or disorder; but if they are forcibly opposed there will be trouble, and plenty of it. It is reported that two hundred and fifty men of Gen. Jeff. C. Davis' regiment, en route for St. Louis, were switched off on a side track at Sedalia, but whether by the Missouri Pa cific, or by the Missouri, Kansas and Texas Railroad men, or by outside parties, is not stated. In San Francisco, on the 24th, a meeting of the working men, ten thousand strong, adjourned after wrecking a Chinese wash-bouse, making their way homeward in squads. Tbey played all kinds of pranks on the Chinese. Five hundred policemen prevented them from reaching the Chinese quarter. Stones and clubs were used, but no fire arms. The demonstration seems to have been free and by two o'clock all was quiet. A Washington dispatch of the 24th says that the Cabinet occupied its session in discussing the strike. It was concluded that no further action was necessary at present beyond calling another regiment from the South?probably from Texas. Messengers from the Baltimore and Ohio Road are reported to be on the New England roads persuading the men to strike. They are dissatisfied with their pay, but do not deem a strike advisable. The streets of Worcester, Mass., however, are full of rumors of an engineers' strike on the Boston & Albany Road. The managers of that road apprehend no trouble unless the New York Central strikes. One thousand men of the West Albany shops have joined the strike and are coming to Albany. Late this afternoon the strike became general along the Chicago and Canada Southern Main Line and the Toledo and Detroit division. The railroad and packing men at a meeting at Kansas City have decided to strike. The miners of Beaver Brook mines atUnbried, Penh., have struck. No violence. Shop hands and machinists at Scranton, Penn., compelled to quit work. Grand army of the Republic at Philadelphia has taken measures to organize for suppression of strike. There are 17 posts in that city. Their services have been accepted by Mayor Stokely, who has also increased the police force to fifteen hundred. Dispatches, from Washington, of the 25th, give the following items : The rails have been removed from the Erie track at Chemung Bridge. The freight conductors, firemen and brakemen on the New York Central at East Syraouse have struck, The strikers detailed men from their own body to protect property. The mail and passenger trains are allowed to pass. The stridors warn off outsiders, tramps and Communists. A stranger, supposed to come from New York, appeared among the strikers at East Syracuse and advised them to burn the buildings of the company. The strikers drove him from the yard at the point of the pistol, and he fled to the woods to escape with his life. The engineers of the New Jersey Central have decided not to run with green crews. Gen. Hamilton with 600 regulars, has arrived at Reading, Pa. The city was quiet at midnight, but the rioters had virtual possession of the road. Governor Hartranft has reached Pittsburg, and has issued a proclamation. A general cessation of travel on the Morris and Essex and New Jersey Central Roads is expected. The pork-packers and coopers at 6t. Louis have joined the strikers. The laborers at Kansas City have struck, and the strikers have compelled the suspension of labor of all kind. The strikers are in undisputed control of all roads at Terra Haute, Ind. The roughs continue their demonstrations against the Chinese in San Francisco. A half dozen houses have been thirned in different parts of the city, and the crowds are dubbed from one point only to gather at another. There are emissaries of the Commune here, and they are reported as having gone fhrther South. The detective here attributes the fool ish demonstration at Louisville to their machinations. A special meeting of the Cabinet was held to-day at noon, and lasted until after two o'clock. It was called for the purpose of keeping the Administration officially advised of the strikers' operations in the different parts of the country so that the President could take some immediate action if deemed necessary. A number of dispatches were read and thoroughly discussed by the Cabinet One from Gen. Hancock reporting everything in Philadelphia quiet and under control. He said, in his opinion, it was not the lull before the storm, but the breaking up. The dispatches generally report affairs more quiet and peaceable, and it was decided that no further action should be taken by the government for the present. It is noticed, however, that emanations from the Cabinet give the situation an over cheerful look. from other points. Albany, July 26.?General Carr telegraphs that all is quiet at West Albany. The troops are in possession of the round and freight honses, and freight can be sent without any trouble. Everything in the city is nnifit. arid nn fnrtViAr disorder is annrehended here. The Governor says that his dispatches from all parts of the State are satisfactory, and he expresses the opinion that the strike ir now entirely under control. Governor Robinson has issued a prolcamation reciting the law, which punishes with ten years' imprisonment and $1,000 fine any kind of tampering with railroad trains or tracks. He offers a reward of $500 for the arrest and conviction of every such offender. Reading, Pa., July 25.-The United States troops, with four pieces of artillery, are guarding the depot and other railroad property. The road has been repaired here. Andenreid, Pa., July 25.?The Beaver Brook Mines have conformed to the demands of the miners, who struck yesterday, and the men have resumed work. It is believed that their success will encourage other miners in the vicinity to follow their example. Scranton, Pa., July 25.?The excitement here is intense. All trains on the Delaware, Lackawana. and Western Road have been stopped. When the mail train from Bing- 1 hampton for New York arrived at 9.50 this morning, two passenger cars were detached by the strikers, who said that nothing but mail cars should run. Superintendent Halstead said that the mail car would not run unless the passenger care were permitted to go. This made the strikers indignant. The superintendent was firm, however, and the mails were taken from the car, which was promptly switched off. The strikers telegraphed, at once, to the State authorities that the com pa ny refused to run the mail car, and tbat they would run it, if necessary, and furnish firemac and engineer. A dispatch, to the same effect, was sent to the postoffice at Washington. The streets are thronged with men from the mines, railroad and iron mills. Syracuse, July 25.?At East .Syracuse this forenoon the passenger trains Were stopped by strikers, but afterwards were allowed to start. The mail cars bad been placed at the rear of the trains, and as the other cars could not be detained without interfering with the mails, the trains were allowed to pass on. The efforts to cause a general strike at Syracuse this morning were not successful. The local authorities have perfected a strong organization to repress any outbreak. St. Thomas, Ont., July 25.?A Great Western Railroad train, ordered to Canada for Southern passengers, was taken possession of by the strikers at 1 o'clock this morning, and had to go back to the Air-Line depot The strikers positively refused io let the express train, which had many passengers, move East. Patterson, N. J., July 25.?The striking silk weavers here are becoming demonstrative. A non-striker was badly hurt this morning by one man and two women. Warrants have been issused for their arrest. The strikers are .1 *n t _ _ 3 /^i J.J U_ mostly r rencn ana vrermaas perv&ueu uj Communism. An uneasy feeling prevails | here, but the authorities are firm and deter- I mined. Galveston, July 25.?Special dispatches to the New from Marshal and Dallas report a strike on the Texas Pacific. Elizabeth, N. J., July 25.?No through trains have passed here from Easton, and the mails have been delayed for the first time since the trouble began. Hornellsville, N. Y., July 25?At 8 o'clock this morning, train No 8 was started east with a guard on board, an engine ahead and behind. No full trains have moved west since the strike commenced. At 11.30 a. m. a private conference was held between Superintendent Bo wen and Assistant Receiver Sherman, on the part of the Erie Road, and Hon. Horace Bennis and Niles W. Hawley, counsel for the disaffected men. No definite result was reached, though the counsel claim to have hopes of a peaceful and honorable settlement. A meeting of the strikers is to be held this evening, to take some action in the matter. Otherwise nothing has been done and everything is quiet., New York, July 25.?After the Tompkins Square.meeting was over, the crowd gathered on the streets. The police ordered them to disperse and were greeted with a shower of brickbats and stones. The police charged, and after a sharp and decisive struggle the crowd were routed. All is quiet now. The post commander of the Grand Army of the Republic has tendered to Governor Robinson two thousand men. Baltimore, July 25.?The board of directors of the Corn and Flour Exchange to-day passed resolutions that whereas a state of rioting and anarchy, interfering with every form of honest labor, exists in many of the chief cities of the Union, and along their principal lines of railroads, and is rapidly spreading to the imminent danger of peaceable citizens, and the complete disorganization of all business; and, whereas, the militia, State and municinal farces are unoueationa bly inadequate to cope with this emergency to afford protection to the willing workers, be it resolved that urgent appeal be made to the President of the United States for the ut* most military protection authorixed by the constitution, even to an increase of the military forces. Chicago, July 25.?11 P. M.?The mob was making, at last reports, for McCormick's Great Reaper Works, and will there meet opposition. A gang of rioters is engaged in running street cars into stables on the south side as fast as they come in. The railroads are in statu quo, with passenger trains and mails running except in a few cases. Many who were compelled to quit work yesterday have gone back to-day. The north side mob is the most disorderly, and is busy breaking wherever resisted. The Phoenix Distillery liaon hcen aaiyfA Kv thnm onH tho nrnnrio. tors have called for United States troops. The strikers drove the police back from the north side and the rolling mills, and thej were compelled to return to the station. Some sailors struck last night, but this movement met with little success. The council has vo~ ted what money the mayor might see fit to use. Six thousand men have volunteered to protect the city. The mob marched to-day from one industry to another, and were generally successful in getting the men to atop work. There were no fatalities to-day, but many broken heads. The police beat off a branch of the mob that was moving on the gas works. The Board of Trade passed resolutions calling on the President and.Crovernor to suppress the prevailing insurrection. i