Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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\/ r \ d) V( \ 7 1 n r1 rf \\ f ) !l W !1 [d) it"' [ p) j _p^ a u i ?jj-j ^ v ay u -tu ?< -tuj i.ewis m. <jrist, Proprietor.! Jnbcpcnbenf Jmmiln flctospapcr: J*or tljc ^promotion of tljt |)olificaI, Social, ^pricultura! anb Commercial Interests of f|c Soufj). jTERMS?$3.00 A YEAR, IX ADVANCE. VOL. '24:. YORKVILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 7, 1878. NO. G. An (Original ^torn. Written for the Yorkville Kii(|iiirer. 3IA1MPOSA; OK, THE HEART OF A BALLET GIRL CHAPTER X. A day or two alter the events just chronicled, Helen returned to boarding-school, and in the resumption of her duties there, scarcely 1 realized that so important a change had recently taken place in her condition and prospects. Of this change, indeed, there was nothing to remind her, as no one knew auything of her newly required fortune except her friends at Le Borage. It was her own wish that the matter should be kept private, as she hrtd no fancy for its becoming a theme of general gossip in the neighborhood. Before very long, however, a reminder came to her in the shape ot anotner iener, mis time from her unele, entering more fully into the business part of the interesting subject; and, what concerned her much more nearly, concluding with specific directions for her re- | turn to New Orleans, at a given date. His step-sou, Mr. Allan Lambert, had some busi- j ness which would call him to Paris early in j the spring, probably about the first of March. Aud having attended to that, he would at once proceed to La Bocage to take upon himself the duties of her escort home. This would be somewhere about the beginning or middle of April. Of course she would receive more definite notice in time to prepare herself for the journey. This was bringing the reality home to her i with a vengeance ! No more vague anticipations now, or hopes of a possible reprieve. I The affair was taken out of her hands and set- i tied for her as naturally as if Mr. Daslnvood had been in the habitual discharge of his duties as her guardian and protector all her life. It soon become known among her companions that she was sent for to America, and they questioned her and discussed the topic until " ?"- nf it- The npnrer the time an Olic naa ncai j v?? *. ? <? ? -r proached for her departure, the more loath she grew to think about it. Her heart clung to t ie associations which had sprung up around her in her French home, with a fondness that taught her how deep would be her regret in breaking them up. With the end of February her school term closed. This gave her about a month, perhaps six weeks, of uninterrupted intercourse with Madame Preville, the kind friend and guide to whom she owed so much, from whom she would feel such grief to part. Victor had tried very hard to make up his mind to spend these last few weeks away from home, but wheu the time came for putting this resolution to the test, his courage failed. Come what would, he could not dash the last lingering drops of sweetness so cruelly from his own cup. The draught of sorrow lie would drink hereafter | would, perhaps, he all the more bitter, but of that he would not think. While it was still permitted him to taste the joy of her presence, to bask in the sunshine of her glance and smile, to listen to the music of her voice, he could not put the dangerous delight away from him. And Helen, in the softened mood il loof itrnalrc on/I rlavu WflQ ot inest; ucciuig moi ?n.vn^ ....j.,, kinder to him, less chary in her intercourse j than she had ever been before. She had wisdom enough to guess something of his pain, though she could by no means comprehend its depth and height. She would fain have seen him happier, but would not ana lyze her feelings to discover how far this wish to promote his happiness might lead her. It is probable that if Victor had profited by his present opportunity to hazard a throw for the coveted prize, he would have stood no bad chance of success; but this he would not do. His resolve was made and he would not swerve from it; let her return untramraeled to those who considered that they had the first claim upon her, and enter upon her new life among them free to choose her own path. Then, if the day should come when, having stood the test of absence and of all the accessories of her position, her heart should draw her back to the scenes she was now about to leave, still fancy-free, he might dare to tell her of the love which he had kept locked in his breast so patiently and so long. It was no easy task to adhere to the line of duty thus rigidly marked out; to find himself brought into daily contact with the object of his devotion, to taste more fully and perfectly than ever before the sweetness of this companionship, and look forward to the approach of the time when he was to be robbed of it, knowing thai by an effort of his he might bring within his reach a hope which would unspeakably brighten their parting, and yet refrain from making that effort. True, there was but a chance that it would be crowned with success. But he would have given much to he able to make the venture. Nothing seemed so hard as this enforced silence, when a spoken word could end his suspense. He gave no outward sign of this conflict of feeling, putting a strong constraint upon himself, lest some sudden temptation should take him unaware, and break down the harrier of his reserve?some chance word, or glance, or touch of the hand, steal, in an ungarded moment, into his heart, so sternly fenced about and sentinelled, and dash his resolution to the winds. To see him as he looked and spoke and moved so quietly, attending to his usual business, and calmly entering upon its details in his conversation with his aunt, no one would have suspected him to be a man in love, or guessed the tumult underlying this unrutiled surface. The day of Helen's departure drew near. She received advices from Mr. Lambert, informing her of his arrival in Paris, and of the probable duration of his stay in that city. And about the end of March he wrote again, stating that on the twelfth of the ensuing month, if she could he ready by that time, he would be prepared to start on his homoward journey. There was, of course, much to be done ; ami, in the whirl and excitement of the parting arrangements, and visits of leave-taking among her friends, she scarceIv had leisure to indulge in her regrets. Only at the very last, when nothing remained to be packed, or put aside, or consulted over; when all the little souvenirs she had prepared for distribution had been given away ; ail the good-byes said, except just those in her immediate home, and she had hut to wait for the arrival of her escort, the realization of what was before her struck upon her with a sudden, piercing sense of pain. Never before hail iier sunny Lunguedoc home seemed half so dear as now, when all its familiar associations rushed over her in contrast with the unknown approaching future. Madame Preville, too, who had bravely borne up thus far, succumbed to the pressure of the emotions which would no longer be kept in check, and fairly broke down, shedding tears almost as freely as Helen, as they spent their last evening together by the fireside in the dear old quaintly-furnished parlor, remembering that it was the last, perhaps, that would ever thus be spent. But tears and regrets were alike unavailing, and with the dawning of the day that was to witness their parting, came a renewed sense of the necessity of self-coutrol. Mr. Lambert was to arrive at Le Bocage at seven o'clock, and Helen bad promised to be punctual. She felt that there was no time now for the in diligence of agitated feeling, and wun a paie face, but outward composure of maimer, she completed the few final arrangements necessarily postponed until now; tried, though unsuccessfully, to eat some breakfast, and donning her traveling gear, waited for her escort to appear, which he did within five minutes after she had drawn on her gloves. The leavetaking proper was of the briefest. All that there was to say had been already said, and only a close but hurried embrace, a whispered adieu, remained. Helen tore herself from Madame Preville's arms, gave her hand for an instant to Victor, who scarcely pressed it before he let it go ; then drawing her veil over her face, entered the diligence which was to convey her to the railway station, and, with her new acquaintance at her side, was driven rapidly away. We will pass over the details of the journey. It suffices to say that in due time they reached their destination, and our young traveler, with a beating heart, was ushered into the presence of her new or long-forgotten relatives Mr. Edmund Dashwood, an old gentleman with a brisk, alert figure, light eyes adorned with glasses, curly gray hair, and an air of scrupulous neatness about his person and dress, stood in the doorway of the elegant house at which they alighted, waitiug to receive her. "My dear niece!" he exclaimed, with much warmth, as he pressed a fatherly kiss upon her cheek; "I am most happy to welcome you home." Then after exchanging a somewhat formal salutation with his step-son, he conducted her through a marhle vestibule into a spacious drawing room, where a young girl of sixteen or seventeen was practicing upon a harp. She stopped immediately on their entrance, and coloring deeply, came forward with a diffident air. "You didn't know cousin Helen had arrived, did you, Myra? Helen, this is Myra Dashwood, your great-aunt's grand-daughter, consequently your second?no, third cousin. She lives with us, and you'll find her a pleasant companion, I dare say." Helen was struck by the girl's shrinking, nervous air. With the instinct of relationship she heut forward to kiss her, but the kiss was scarcely returned, and Myra'a small, 'imp hand detached itself timidly from her clasp, as her eyes turned toward the doorway where Allan Lambert stood. The latter approaching, held out his hand with a careless gesture of greeting. "How do you do, Myra?" he said, in the indifferent tone of one addressing a comparative stranger; and scarcely more than touching her fingers, he walked off again to give some directions concerning the luggage which a servant was bringing in. Myra mnrmurcrd some indistinct words, and instantly hurried from the room by an opposite door. Helen perceived her embarrassment, without being able to divine its cause. She had no chance to speculate on the subject, however, for in another instant a rustle of silk was heard on the stairs. A voice exclaimed : "Where is she?" Where is the darling child? I am dying to embrace her!" And this exclamation was followed by the appearance of a brilliant looking woman, so brilliant that it was not easy to realize her age, who, sweeping down upon her with extended arms, folded her in an enthusiastic embrace. "My dear Helen, this is the moment which I have been anticipating so long!" she cried, lightly kissing her on either cheek, after the fashion of a staire salute. "How I re joice to receive you as an inmate of our home! Henceforth remember you are to be my daughter. I am quite sure, from the expression of this lovely face, that you are worthy of all the affection that will be lavished upon you here," she continued, putting her hand under Helen's chin and regarding her with real or assumed admiration in her glance, which brought a blush to the young girl's cheek. "Sweet, modest flower! I see that your foreign education, even in gay, heartless France, has not destroyed the ingenious simplicity of your heart. "I have not been in a heartless atmosphere, Madame," gently responded Helen, unconsciously employing the French mode of address, to which she was accustomed, and speaking with a slightly foreign accent, the natural result of her long residence abroad. Her aunt clasped her hands together in a sort of transport of delight. "Oh ! you dear little thing, how musically you talk. But my sweet Helen, do not address me so formally. Rememember, I am your aunt Augusta, nay, your mamma if you like that better. Call me by either name you will, be assured that mv feelings towards you are truly those of a mother." Helen mentally decided that she would never bestow upon this gushing lady any warmer appellation than that demanded by the connection betwen them. Somehow she was not very much impressed by the ardor of her aunt's welcome, which had something too artificial about it to awake a corresponding enthusiasm on her part. "My dmr, hadn't you better let Helen take off her things, and get comfortable after her journey ?" mildly suggested Mr. Dashwood, who stood looking on. "I dare say she would be glad to go to her room." "So she would ; wouldn't you, love? Come witb m<> nod I will show voir the way. My r!i! ? Oli ! I thought .she wns here." "Here I am, aunt," said Myra, suddenly emerging, in some mysterious manner, from her plaee of retreat. "Myra," said Aunt Augusta, sharply, "make haste and have some fresh water carried into your cousin's room ; and see that Dan puts her trunks into the large hall closet, where there is plenty of room for them." "Yes, ina'am," said Myra, obediently, and vanished again. Some involuntary impulse prompted Helen to remark, as she followed her aunt up-stairs, "What an expressive face Myra has. I like her appearance so much." "Do you?" was the careless rejoinder. "I think her very plain. Now, see here love," she continued, as they reached the open door of a handsome chamber on the second story, "this is your bed-room, and the smaller one adjoining is at your disposal. Just outside your door, as you see, is this large closet, where you can conveniently get at your trunks until they are unpacked, without crowding ' your rooms with them. Myra will be herein a moment and see that you have fresh water 1 *?-: 1? M,v,u T iiuii every uiuig eise _yuu maj un<?. -t.v.. ^ will leave you for a little while to rest yourself before getting ready for dinner, which will he on the table at four o'clock. One more kiss, sweet Helen !?now ail revoir. I ; Helen sat down on the first chair that she came to. Her head ached. .She was dreadfully tired and bewildered by the novelty of her position. Myra soon appeared, carrying a pitcher of water, which she deposited on the floor, near the wash stand, catching her breath as she did so. "That was too heavy for you," said Helen, kindly. "Why did you bring it yourself, ! Myra?" "Oh 1?just so," replied Myra, awkwardly. She stood silent and embarrassed for a moment, then asked, in the same shy way, "Do you want anything else, now ?" "No, nothing, thank you ; but don't hurry off. I like to have you stay with me," said Helen. Oh ! no?Aunt Augusta?at least, I have to go now," stammered Myra, moving toward the door. She stopped with her hand on the latch, adding, "Please ring, if you need any- j thing," then hurried away. "I wonder if she is sick, or shy, or what?" thought Helen, as she slowly disrobed herself " * i i noi . i A ! ot tier traveling garo. one uous ijul seem happy, at all events. Perhaps she is not treated well. Every one treats her a little coldly, I think, except uncle Edmund, who seems kind. I think I shall like him very . much, though he has neglected me a great deal; hut I have a sort of idea that he is not to blame for that. However, I must not be | rash in forming my opinions, as dear Madame charged me, before I left. Oh! dear, I won-1 der what they are all doing at Le Bocage, now ?" And as the thought of the familiar house and familiar faces rose in her mind, she felt very much like indulging in a good cry ; but 1 remembering that it would not do to appear at the dinner table, on the first day, with red j eyes, she resolutely forced back the gathering weakness, and addressed herself to the task i of making her toilet. There were two more new faces at dinner, j One was that of Mr. Lacy, Mr. Dash wood's lawyer; the other, a Mr. Mortimer Forester, ' another cousin, a stiff-looking individual, : dressed in black, who, as Helen afterwards learned, had recently become a widower. He paid her a good deal of attention, which bored her, as she did not find him at all interesting. She would have preferred sitting near her uncle, but instead, she was placed between Mortimer Forester and Allan Lambert. The latter, however, took little part in the conver- j sat ion. As this last-named gentleman has been only casually mentioned heretofore, it may be as well to give a description of him here. In person he was rather agreeable than otherwise, having a good figure, and a face, which, though not handsome, was sufficiently symmetrical in its outlines to be styled goodlooking. His complexion and hair were of the blonde type, and a pair of luxuriant * ' " ii*i? 1 , | whiskers,ot a reddish nue, nearly met neneain his cliin. His eyes were light gray, and rather inexpressive ; his mouth denoted a want of firmness, lint was adorned with an unusual-1 ly fiue set of teeth. In manner lie was quiet and gentlemanly, and a little cold. Helen noticed that he appeared reserved in his intercourse, both with his mother and her uncle, though the former, especially, frequently appealed to him and tried to draw him into conversation. She had a way, too, which seemed a little curious, of constantly repeating remarks or comments which he had at some other time given utterance to, as if to supply that deficiency in his pleasant contribution to the general talk ; thus : "As Allan said one day to Colonel Beresford, he was forcibly reminded by the present state of society of that witticism of the old Comte de Yilliers," etc. etc. ; or, "Allan agrees with me in thinking so and so;" or, "Allan positively intends going to such a place," and so on, to all of which statements Allan apparautly turned a deaf ear; or, if he listened, with passive and imperturbable gravity, neither offering confirmation or dissent. On the journey he had been exceedingly civil to Helen, and had managed everything in the nicest way, allowing her absolutely no trouble ; but though she appreciated his attention, and was grateful accordingly, they hud not by any means arrived at that stage of acquaintanceship which resolves itself into intimacy. In fact, she scarcely felt yet as if she knew, and would therefore have found it difficult to decide, had the question been put to her, whether she liked him or whether she did not. CHAPTER XT. Helen's first impressions of her new home may he gathered from the following leiter to Madame Preville, written two days after her arrival. It was written in French, tut we take the liberty of translating it into English: "My Diiaukst, I)i:aki:st Fkiknd I reached here safely day before yesterday, af i tcr ii voyage which would have been very agreeable if I bad not carried a sail heart. I thought of you all the time. I still think of you and my dear home at Le Boeage, day and night. I suppose you will want to know something of' the place and people I um ' among. It all seems so strange, so strange ! livery thing is quite different from what I have been accustomed to ; and yet I am faintly reminded of certain shadowy images of my childish days, which seem to he revived by my return to my former home. This is not the house I used to live in, however. That was sold long ago, i am told, and lias i since been pulled down. This is my uncle Dash wood's house; it is very large and elegant, and all the furniture is new and glittering ; to me it has not a home like, comfortable look, like the dear old rooms at Le Bocage. I liave two apartments at my disposal, a bed-chamber and a dressing room, both i spacious aud comfortably furnished. My dressiug-room windows look out upon a por- y< tion of the grounds, which are large and n handsomely kept, with many beautiful flowers. I suppose my uncle must be very wealthy, judging from the style in which he lives. Al-1 though most people here, I understand, have suffered greatly by the war, and but few private equipages are seen, compared with what b were formerly here, he keeps two carriages and four or five horses, with servants in liv- ? ery and everything else to correspond. So ^ much for the house and its appointments ; now for its residents. My uncle I cannot but like. To me he is exceedingly kind, and he appears 1 in all respects amiable. He has a lively manner, but does not seem to control or interfere 01 with any of the domestic arrangements. I g, think he is entirely guided by my aunt, who w Has great umuence over uuu, nun n luun.igui^ q way about her, to which every one seems to yield. She also mokes a great deal of me ; in fact makes a great fuss, which I do not like. She seems to be trying to make amends for af anything in her past conduct which I may ; si have thought unkind. I am sure now that it! was she, and not my uncle, who objected to j my coming here to live, after my father's death. Perhaps it !- wrong in me to say this, or write anything about her which is not ; pleasant, particularly as I have no proofs; but to you I must write as freely as I would E speak. She is quite elderly, I should say ci fully as old as my uncle, but has a great dash SI and show about her, and, I fancy, not a great ^ deal of heart. There is a cousin of mine here, j. Myra Dashwood, a girl of about my own age, whom I should like, I believe, very much, if she would permit me to know her. , 01 But she is very timid and reserved, and will se never converse sociably, though I try to in- i H duce her. She seems to stand a good deal w, in awe of my aunt, who 1*3 evidently not fond , of her. Sometimes she orders her about almost as though she were a servant, and Myra . seems afraid to disobey. I think there is a mystery of some sort about her, though I cannot make out what it is. Although really one of the family, she is like one apart. I s|) mean to win her confidence, if I can. I > should like to make her happier than she is. ^ She is so different from the girls I knew at j school! It was easy enough to get acquaint- j ed with them. Then there is Monsieur Lam-1 ' < T .1 i_ __ __ 1.. tL? hsi neri, wnom JL UUUK JOU scarcely sun LUC ? morning he came for me. I really cmnot, he tell whether he is pleasant or not. He is good-; di looking and quite a gentleman, and was very | }\i courteous to me throughout our voyage and I fl| the rest of the journey ; but in fact I scarce- j j ly know him yet, for he does not talk much, j The first evening I was here, I was very tired i ^c and went early to bed ; but last night we at-, w' tended the Opera. My aunt has a box there, i in and invited two gentlemen to accompany us, i wi but they were old gentlemen. One was Mr. ! ^ Lacy, a lawyer, and the other somebody i whose name I forget, but who carried on an j absolute flirtation with Madame Dashwood ! re Imagine a lady of her age flirting, and a J ar married lady too! I presume it was all in , ly jest; but it did not add to my respect for her. i sh I asked why Myra did not go, and Aunt Au- | gusta told me that she did not care to go to j places of amusement. I heard her (my aunt) : trying to persuade her sou to make one of the party, but he refused. I did not distin- T guish what he said, but his manner to her be was a little brusque. It strikes me that there | ch is a want of harmony among the different ele- in ments which constitute the family circle; jn but, perhaps, when I know my new relatives j . ' better, I shall understand their ways, which ; , are certainly a little incomprehensible to me as yet. My aunt receives a great deal of >'e company. There have been guests at dinner each of the two days which I have spent here, H and others are expected to day. Besides this, (n visitors are constantly coming. My aunt told W( me this morning that she wished me always j to be in readiness by one o'clock, to go into the drawing-room. It is for this reason that an I have chosen a quiet time for writing to tif you. It seems that I am not likely to be ch much interfered with between breakfast and frj lunch, which I am very glad of. My aunt says I have a very incomplete wardrobe, and ^ has already ordered four new dresses for me,, * all much more stylish than anything I have t-v. .?i.. ,t..?DQ?0 evei" worn, i' uhuiiiik-iv iuy lyyw huik are nice enough to please her. Yesterday my j so uncle bought me an elegant little watch ; fo and he has also given me the best saddle- }1(i horse in his stables. I am to have a riding-1 dress made immediately, of dark blue cloth, ' and Aunt Augusta says that Mr. Lambert ' will give me lessons; you know I am by no * 1 means an experienced rider, though I used to it enjoy galloping about the lanes on dear old sli Bonaparte. I hope Bonaparte is well. I wonder if he will remember me when I re- j turn? Oh! those happy, happy times; it I makes me shed tears to remember. I can never, never, be as happy here as I have been i with you. Dear Madame, dear kind friend, flr [)lease write to me very soon, and just as oft- I en as you can. I shall prize your letters, wi Oh ! so highly. I can never forget your good- j ness to me. I pray for your welfare, morn-' gu ing and night. Last night I saw you and embraced you in my dreams. I thought I saw : you walking down the avenue, and ran to meet ' Pe you, and we walked to old Marquerite's cottage. How is old Marquerite, and the little j co lame grandson ? Remember me to them and , 0I to all the dear people; tell them not to for* gu get me. I need not tell you that; you will j think of your poor, forlorn Helen always. I am forlorn because I am separated from eve- j cr ry tiling I love; still, I must be grateful for' P< all that is done for me here ; yet gratitude is I nr not love. Dearest Madame, see what a long p( letter I have written you; yet it has not m seemed long in writing it. My pen has flown over the paper. I envy this letter, because it j will soon be at Le Bocage. I can see you w reading it, sitting in your high-backed red chair, by the south window; perhaps old ot Nanette is purring on your lap. Tell Nanette there is a cat here, but not so handsome a, or affectionate as she is. There, I am begin- gt ning to write nonsense, so 1 had better stop, j . "I shall anxiously await a letter from you. j Please give my regards to Monsieur Victor. I send you many, many kisses, and more love | than I can express. U "Ever your devoted and sincere hi "IIKI.kn." ni Helen had lingered longer over the con- et eluding lines than all the former part of this cl lengthy epistle. That one little phrase "Please give my regards to Monsieur Victor," had ; been written without much deliberatiou. She bi was not altogether satisfied with it when it ' cc was done. It seemed curt and stiff; ought ri she to add anything to it? She had heen on ( vi the point of writing "Monsieur Duclos," but! hi had softened it into "Monsieur V ictor," as be- 01 ing a trifle less cold. She did not want his pi feelings to be wounded ; hut yet?on the ". whole, she thought it would answer well enough. She half smiled at her own uncer- , p< tainly, and then sighed. Just as she had <p signed her name she heard the bell ring for ai lunch She folded and sealed her letter has- fo tily, ami having directed it, carried it down a{ stttira to get it stamped before sending it to fc the post. As she reached the dining room j door, voices within, speaking rather loudly, | lc arrested her attention. She paused for a mo- j w ment before entering, uncertain whether any j stranger might he there, and not wishing to hi intrude. She heard her aunt exclaim, in au m emphatic tone; I "I tell you, Allan, if you go on in this way i [)u will ruin your own chances?absolutely tin them. I never supposed you could be nil ty of such absurd conduct." "Don't trouble yourself about my conduct, i ' you please, mother," was the cold and ttiguidly uttered reply. "I am quite capale of managing my own affairs." "Lut you ure not, excitedly rejoined .urs. fashwood. "You have no more discretion lan a child. Do you suppose any girl is oing to put up with?" Helen waited to hear no more, but quickly id noiselessly retired. That an argument r dispute of rather an angry nature was jing on, seemed evident, and she had no ish to pry into family misunderstandings, n her way up-stairs she met Myra, looking ly and half frightened, as usual. "Was that the lunch bell, Myra?" she iked. "I thought so, but was not quite ire. i "Yes. I am coming down now," answered ( fyra. At that moment the dining-room i ior was opened rather violently, and the two ] rls, looking down, saw Allan Lambert pass i irough the hall and go out the street door. J 'ireetly after, Mrs. Dasbwood appeared, and t died out to them, sharply, to come down. :ie softened her tone in addressing Helen, j Jt was evidently quite disturbed. Her } leeks were flushed, and in speaking to Myra i ie was even less courteous than usual. No | le was present at the lunch table but them- ] Ives. The meal passed off almost in silence, ? elen feeling, uncomfortably, that somethiug c us wrong. j "Myra," said Mrs. Dashwood, when they j ose, "have you attended to the directions I ? ive you yesterday, about that sewing ?" ] "Not yet, aunt," timidly answered Myra. 1 "And why not? Did I not desire that it t onld be done at once ?" t "I had uot time,"rejoined the girl, in alow 1 ne. "Making absurd excuses, as usual! I know g ill enough that you could have found time, 9 Ld you choseu to do so," angrily exclaimed \ sr aunt. Helen quietly slipped out. She I d uot like to stand and be a witness of poor j. yra's humiliation. As she left the room j e heard Mrs. Dashwood say, "Prevarication, iceit, that is always what I must expect from iu." She had just reached her own room j hen Myra, panting, breathless, came rush- j ( g up the stairs. Her usually pale cheeks , jre crimson, her eyes glittering with a new, j ifiant light. "Myra !" softly cried Helen. She made no ply, but ran up the next flight of stairs, t id Helen heard the sound of a door violent- j closed. Prompted by a sudden impulse,1 e followed, and, without knocking, entered j yra's room. 1 g It was a small, scantily furnished apart-1, .. ?{ mil, CUIJIU1IJ lllg UUIIC Ul LUG lunino ui iuau- i everywhere else visible throughout the use. Myra had thrown herself upon a low .air, near the window, and buried her face ! v her hands. Helen approached, and kneel- j g by her, gently tried to remove the clasped , inds. The girl started, not having perceived ir entrance, and looked up with a frightened, 1 t half indignant air. ! j "Don't be vexed with me, Myra," said elen, pleadingly. "I oughtn't to have in-1 s Lided on you, perhaps; but I fancied you s ?re in some trouble, and felt sorry." Myra made no answer. She looked away,1 ( id her bosom swelled with repressed agita-1 >n. Helen bent forward and kissed her eek. "I wish you would let me be your end," she softly whispered. t The kiss, the kind tone, seemed to melt yra's reserve. She hid her face again, and | irst into tears. !' "It is always the way!" she sobbed. "I am aided, persecuted, unjustly accused, and all r no reason except that I am the object of 1 r hate! Prevarication, indeed! I did not r evaricate. I never do; but it is her habit assert that I do not tell the truth. If r could only run away from her, I would do a ; yes, this very instant. I lead the life of a ^ lve, of a dog; I wish I was dead !" f "Hush, pray hush ; you will be heard," id Helen, in a soothing tone, caressing, the j cited girl. "I don't care if I am. I don't care about ^ lything. I am just getting desperate, now ;, have stood this treatment too long already," 1 is Myra's vehement reply. Helen allowed her agitation gradually to c bside, before saying anything more. When t length she appeared calmer, she continued 1 irsuasively? "I hope you won't think that I want to disver any of your secrets; but if you will 1 j dy talk to me a little about yourself I am j re it will maKeyou reel oetter. ( "As to secrets, I haven't any. It is no se- 1 et, the way everybody treats me here," said jor Myra, in a disconsolate tone. "And the ! lly reason of it all is that my mother was a ;rson they objected to?because she was not ( y father's equal. She was a dressmaker by ? icupation, because she was poor and had to ] ork ; but in manners she was a lady, a real < ,dy, as I remember perfectly, though I was J ily a child when she died." "Have you been living here ever since?" j iked Helen, sympathizingly. She was not , ire enough of her ground yet to attempt to i Ter consolation. 1 "Almost ever since; but I would never ive come at all if Aunt had had her way. ( uicle would have me because ray father was | is favorite companion. They were cousins, | :>t brothers, but they called each other broth- i always, ami that is how I came to call un? < e, uncle, instead of cousin." 1 "i/e is good to you, isn't he?" asked Helen. ' "Oh ! yes, he is good enough, and would be ' 2tter, if he wasn't afraid of Aunt. Of jurse you have discovered already that she | lies him. I can tell you it was she who pre- | ented your coming home when you wrote i iin that letter, loug ago. But I forgot?I ' ight not to have said that," she said, stop- 1 ing suddenly, with an apprehensive look, j Aunt would never forgive me ifsho knew." . j "But she will not know. 1 shall not re- j | sat anything you tell me," replied Helen, j nietly, though with a heightened color. "I < u not at all surprised to hear this, Myra, 1 ir to tell you the truth I suspected it long j to. However, it did not matter, after all, j ir I had a very, very happy home in France." j "Were you sorry to leave it ?" asked Myra, 1 i loking interested. "I should think you ' ould be." |' "I was very sorry, of course, because I was s rought up there, you know, and scarcely relembered my first home." "Will you ever go back, do you think?" | "I hope so, one of these days." I "Oh! dear," sighed Myra. "There is n chance of my being able to go anywher I)o you know I'd give anything to be an hei ess like you, just so as to be able to do win I pleased with myself." "I am sure I wish you were, then," sai Helen, half smiling. "I would willing] give you all my fortune, if?" She checked herself, not thinking it wise! express too decided a sentiment in regard I her present situation ; but Myra supplied tl blank. "If you could only go back, I suppose yc mean," she said. "Well, I don't wonder, don't think you would ever have been set for, if this great fortune hadn't been left 1 you, and that's the truth of it." Poor Helen ! she was not likely to be le: in ignorance ct tne motives wnicn prompie the conduct of those around her, with Myra superior worldly wisdom to shed its light U[ on her understanding. She colored agait more deeply than before, and remained s lent, not knowing what rejoinder to make t this communication. Myra probably rea ber chagrin in the expression of her face, fc she added, in a penitent tone ? "I ought not to have told you that. It wa iwfully bad in me, after you were so goo tnd kind in coming up here to try and d ne good. But it seemed to me you couldn' iclp knowing it. There never was a mor mercenary person in this world than Aunt ihe just worships money. Don't I know hoi lifferently I would be treated, if I wasn' mor? Yes, indeed; I would be dear, dai ing Myra, then. I hate such ways!" th jirl cried, fiercely clenching her little hands 'lelen looked very serious. This was a crue esson she was learning, and again he houghts went back to dear Le Bocage an< he unworldly atmosphere which she ha< ived in there. "As soon as I am of age, or as much soone is I can," she mentally resolved, "I shall g< traight back to France. I shall not reraaii h (tnv Innccr than I can heln." Suddenly Myra started up. "I must d< hat hateful sewing," she exclaimed. "I near y forgot all about it. See what it is to be i lave! Helen, you had better not stay hen my longer now, you may get into trouble \.unt will be angry with me, at any rate, be ;ause she'll think I've been telling you things vhich is the truth?though she needn't kuov t." "But I intend to come up here again,' aid Helen, rising, "and I hope you will conn o my room whenever you can." Myra shook her head. "It won't be ofteu," she replied. "I an >eing educated for a teacher, you know, an< ill my spare time I must give up to prac icing and study." At this moment Helen heard her aunt' mice, down stairs, and, unwilling to com jromise Myra, ran back to her own room vithout waiting to hear anything more. [to he continued.] The Use of Advertising.?The Phila lelphia Bulletin publishes the following "tru aws of advertising I. All men in business must advertise ii omc way. All men in business do advertise omehow. II. Newspapers afford the best general me lium. III. The object of advertising is simply t< >ring buyer and seller together?successfu ulvertising must, theref re, do three things A. Be intelligible and explicit as to th< hings on sale. B. It must reach the class likely to buy C. It must persuade them that it will be t< heir advantage to come and buy. IV. The interest of seller, buyer and ad rertising medium are mutual. V. Sellers, buyers and newspapers are al hree equally interested in sustaining tbi nutual relation. VI. The common notion of patronage ai egards newspapers is fallacious. As all per ons are buyers, all sellers should be adver isers. As nearly all persons are sellers, al niyers should take newspapers?in both case1 'or their own sake, not the newspaper's sake VII. The profits of well conducted news mpers are a measure of the business prosper ty of a community. We all thrive togethe )y contributing to the support of one another This is the truth in a nutshell, and need >ut a line or two to make it perfect, to wit Nearly every successful business man iu th< :ountry who has made a large fortune ii rade, has been a liberal advertiser in th jewspapers. Don't Worry About Yourself.?Th Tournalof Health says: To retain or recove lealth, persons should be relieved from anx ety concerning diseases. The mind has pow ?r over the body. For a person to think h ins a disease, will often produce that disease riiis we see effected when the mind is inteuse y concentrated on the disease of another. I s found in the hospitals that the physician ind surgeons who make a specialty of cei :ain diseases are liable to die of it themselves md the mental power is so strong that pec pic sometimes die of diseases that they hav july in imagination. We have seen person iea-sick in anticipation of a voyage, befor eachiug the vessel. We have known a pet son to die of a cancer in the stomach whe lie had no cancer or any other disease. 1 nan blind-folded and slightly pricked in th irm has fainted and died from believing tha lie was bleeding to death. Therefore, persons in heal th and desirin :o continue so, should, at all times, be cheerfu ind happy, and those who are sick shoul lave their attention drawn as much as possi ble away from themselves. It is by faith tha men are saved, and also by their faith the lie. If a man wills not to die he can oftei live in spite of disease ; and if he has littl ir no attraction to life he will slip away a easily as a child falls asleep. Pay Youk Dkhts.?Clean hands in ma! ;ers of money among the young certainly ough to he the indispensable condition of gentle manliness. No man man who borrows am Iocs not pay, and does not care whether h pays or not, is a gentleman, no matter hot witty, or gay, or line he may be. To speal n good plain English, the man who dresse himself at another's expense, not knowiii] iiow to pay, not earing whether he pays, is ; genteel scoundrel! And yet such things ar lone by good-natured folk, by kind-heartei people, by persons who never probe then morally to ascertain what their tendency is md what thev lead to. Siaf Paris cover and area of 30 squar Biles, has 530 miles of streets, 63,000 housef 27 bridges, 75 churches, 13 palaces, 35 thea res, 18 hospitals, 8 large libraries, 2,00 ichoo's aud nearly 2,000,000 inhabitants. ItetJ" The area of streets to be cleaned i New York is equal to 250 miles, and in co! lecting ashes and garbage, 300 miles have t be gone over daily. *1 gtMlaneonis Reading. [t j WAYSIDE (UTHERIXOS. j ? An anti-silver exchange talks sarcasticalj ly of a "stove-lid" currency. ? The fifteen State legislatures now in ses. sion, cost an aggregate of 833,000 per day. h , ?Mississippi legislators are required to fur1,0 nish their own newspaj)ers and stationery. '? ?A Moftett bell punch bill is before the ie i Louisiana legislature for adoption. J ?There are only two hundred and forty 'U Israelites in Augusta, Georgia?men, women I and children. it1 ? Both branches of the Kentucky legisla :o ture have passed a bill for a convention to revise the constitution of the Slate. ? Every male citizen of Atlanta, Ga., is ^ taxed five dollars for the maintenance of the , : streets. ! ? Nearly every successful business man in | the country who has made a large fortune in ]> j trade, has been a liberal advertiser in newsi* papers. o ?The Western Union Telegraph Company d has ordered that, hereafter, on all unpaid ,r messages, the word "collect" shall be charged for as a portion of the telegram. 8 ? A man at Harrisburg, Pa., invited his ^ friends recently to his "grand annual bawl!" : He has been married eleven years aud has 0 eleven children. 1 ? Near Cincinnati, last Thursday, while e an officer was pursuing four highwaymen, ; he was shot and instantly killed. The murv derers escaped. t ? Mrs. Matilda Stanley, the recognized .. Queen of the Gipseys of the United States , and the Canadas, died at Vicksburg, Miss., last week. j ? The Messrs. Tiddy, proprietors of the paper mills near Lincolnton, N. C., are manur facturing, for a New York contractor, paper 3 for postal cards. 3 ? A man in Harmon, N. H., has sued the dilatory lover of his daughter for 8300 for r room rent, fuel and lights during four years 5 of courtship. j ? Gen. Wheeler, of the Confederate army, who will be remembered as being at one time in mmmftnd of all Gen. Joseph E. Johnston's 3 calvary, is practicing law in Tennessee. ? The Mormons are building a magnificent i temple on the summit of a high mountain in e Mauti, Utah. Five hundred men are at work on it, and it will not be completed for four years. ? A resolution has been introduced into the ' Legislature of Massachusetts, opposing the rev vival of any State or sectional animosity, as being detrimental to the best interests of the country. e ?It is rumored that the President, in his forthcoming civil service message, will recommend that the selection of posmasters in smaller towns be made by popular vote, and , that the Postmaster General shall merely confirm the selection made. ? ,T. H. Miller, the insurance agent, who was arrested a few weeks ago at St. Johns, s N. B., under the extradition treaty, for forge* - ry committed in Georgia, has been discharged, i the forgery not being proven. It was proved that he uttered forged acceptances, but this was not the charge against him. ? The House judiciary committee will pre sent an elaborate report by itsChairmau, Kep1 resentative Knott, of Kentucky, in the case e of Smalls, member of Congress from South Carolina, that his privileges do not shield him ] from the custody of his State under the , charge of felony. ? The London Lancet says that out of every hundred buried persons, one liviug person is consigned to the tomb. Pretended spirits ) say that the greatest agony is frequently 1 caused to the spirits of the dying and ap* i.1 parently dead by the immediate packing of 2 the remains in ice. ? A Detroit boy stood an umbrella, with . a cord tied to it, in a public doorway. Elev3 en persons thought that umbrella was theirs, and carried it off with them the length of the - string. They then suddenly dropped it and went off without once looking back or stop1 ping to pick it up again. 9 ? A Philadelphia woman is suing a horse n y or _ ! railroad company lor damages, one was 3 thrown clown in a car by a collision, break* j ing her leg. The company introduces proof ": that she was not grasping the straps, or she i would not have been hurt. She swears that 31 her corset was so tight that she could uot | reach up to the straps. * j ? Mr. William F. Taylor, second auditor of I the State of Virginia, iu a communication to ! the Speaker of the House of Delegates, says ' I reports received from the operations of the 9 Moffett whisky registers, indicate the revenue : from them will amount to 8500,000 this year, e which is $240,000 iu excess of the revenue j under the license law. Mr. Taylor says that e when the registers get full under way, the revenue will reach fully $600,000 per year. [ ?It would seem from statistics gathered by e 1 medical men, that the old adage, "always sick, never die," has a better foundation than mere hearsay. A high medical authority, Dr. R. Southly, in a lecture ou health, said : "Health and longevity are not synonymous ; , neither are health and great muscularity. ^ j The most muscular men, great prize fighters, 11 men who could foil on ox with their fists, have been known to be always ailing and complaining about themselves. Longevity, .' like height, is a rare attribute, but it does uot '1 signify health. The three oldest people I ever knew?women who reached respectively 89, 98 and 100?were valitudinarians, and j had been so nearly all their lives." .. i ? Oysters of enormous size have been found ot timua nnnn tVip Atlimtif! ooflsf. but rarelv. Q 4.1, V..44V- "rv.? , j, \ ! it' ever, one which rivals in dimensions one e taken in 1840, in Mobile. It was taken in t | April of that year by Xavier Francois, while 1 oystering at his accustomed beds. It measg ured three feet and one inch in length, and ,1 twenty-three and a half inches in breadth j ' across its widest part. It was opened and i_ served up in a savory stew. In 1865 a Jefl ferson market (New York) oyster dealer y found among his stock of East River oysters, n one which contained a dead fish, six inches e long, of the spotted gummel or butterfisk 9 species, having a dorsal fin extending from the head to the tail, filled with sharp spines. I Whether the oyster was also dead, tradition .. does not inform us. t ?A rival to the Moffett Bell Punch is at! trading attention in Virginia. The plan is d , that the State auditor shall have prepared a e book of coupons, to be sold to all bar rooms v and liquor dealers generally. When the k dealer sells a drink, the consumer receives a a coupon, which entitles him to receive from g the State, in payment of his taxes, one cent, a If two drinks are to be paid for, he receives a e coupon printed on orange paper, good for two d cents. If five drinks a blue paper, good for u five cents. This seems to be an admirable ),1 arrangement for the promotion of drinking, i It would undoubtedly be the patriot's duty to driuk all he can, and, like a good little e Sunday-school boy, get a blue ticket at least 3, at every sitting. Not only does the State eni joy an income from the tax on drinks, but a 0 man who drinks, has a reasonable chance of paying off his tax with the orange and blue coupons. Of course, the biggest tax payers n will have to do the most drinking to balance 1- their accounts with the State, and the saloons o will be perpetually crowded with men workI ing out their taxes.