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lewis m. grist, proprietor. f^n Jnbepcnbent Jfamilg |UtDspaper: Jfor % |jratnotian of t|ie political, Social, ^griralinral anb Commercial Interests of t|e Sontj;. TERMS?$3.00 A TEAS, IN ADVANCE. VOL 25. YORKYILLE, 8. C., THURSDAY, JANUARY 16, 1879. - 3STO. 3. ????? ??i? jta Original ftorn. Written for the Yorkville Enquirer. MISS CAREY'S BOX. BY AN OLD CONTRIBUTOR. CHAPTER V. To return now to Mildred. The cause of \ her unwonted p re-occupation and occasional; fits of depression, may be easily inferred from what has been related above. Her secret, which need be a secret no longer, was briefly this: She was conscious that she felt a regard for Frank Coventry ; wanner, perhaps, than was warranted by what had passed between them, and she was troubled at having allowed herself to dwell upon an idea, which, sometimes, she thought might have sprung from her own fancy alone. In recalling his manner, his implied assurauce of his own sentiments toward her, (which bad seemed so unmistakable at the time.) it did, indeed, appear 0 116r BS iriOUgn sue uau auj^iv for this idea. > But then, again, she wondered that he had never spoken definitely, and her soul revolted from the thought that she might have suffered herself to be beguiled into supposing that his attentions meant more than they really did. Such an idea shocked both her delicacy and her pride, and there were moments when she resolved to banish his image, at once and forever, from her mind. But ah ! this was not easy to do. In fact, it was not possible, for had she not felt, over and over again, when in his presence, the delightful conviction that she was dear to hpu?had j he not testified his regard by a hundred signs, | easy to interpret, which had said to her, as ! plainly as though his lips had uttered the words, "I love you ?" Puzzled and harrassed by what seemed contradictory in his conduct, by the alternate hopes and doubts which sgitated her heart, and the trying suspense which she seemed destined, for an indefinite period, to endure, it was no marvel that her customary cheerfulness became somewhat clouded, or that in the solitude of her own apartment, and the silence of the night, a tear would drop upon her pillow, unseen by inquisitive ?yes. As I have already said, however, her natural firmness and her habits of self control, were strong enough to prevent her betraying her trouble in any perceptible degree; though as the weeks and mouths wore on and the gulf of separation and silence grew wider, it weighed more aud more heavily upon her, and affected both her health and her spirits ? ~ ?A. 11 .V oka It'UQ Kopcplf flWitrP more puwenuujr iuau ouv ??o of. "I don't think Mildred looks as well as she used to do at home," Mr. Croflon remarked one morning at the breakfast table iu the presence of the family. "The San Francisco climate doesn't seem to suit her, so well. Are you pining to get back to Eugland, Mildred?" The suddenness of the question brought ^ the c<dor to her face. "I don't know that I am pining, cousin Charles," she replied with a rather forced smile; ' but I shall be glad to go back, of course. I suppose we shall all be." "Oh ! I am in no hurry," said Ethel. "I think it is nice enough to be out here. It is a queer place, but pleasant; and goodness knows it was dull enough at home." "Quiet, but not dull," corrected Mildred. "It is the same thing. Walking, riding and driving about the country, and paying occasional visits to the neighbors, are not very enlivening pastimes." "You forget the archery meetings, and the hont-dinners, and the country balls," said Alice. "Yes; they are the few bright spots in the desert, where one gets refreshed?" "By the sight of uniforms and the sound of pleasant compliments?particularly when these last are whispered in the winning accents of a bold dragoon," said Alice. "Exactly." was Ethel's composed rejoinder. "But if you mean Harry Houghton, I assure r ? i- c?...? l:_ ?n? you i nave Deany iurguircu mm nuugtrtuci. I have seen people since I have been here, whom I like twice as well as him." "Anyhow, the military balls are the nicest," said Alice. "We all know that you think so," retorted Ethel. "Because one sees new faces there, at least." "Though very nearly handsome ones; which, of course, makes the exceptions more valuable," remarked her sister. "I wonder why it is that army and navy officers are so often ugly." "They usually have fine figures, which are more important than handsome features." "0, yes! everybody can testify to your admiration of a huge seven-footer, with shoulders a yard wide. I like something more elegant-aod light," said Ethel. "Like Charlie Crawford, who dances with i the airs and graces of the leader of a ballet corps." "That is preferable to danaing with the airs and awkwardness of an elephant, and treading on the unfortunate toes of a partner. I shall never forget when your big Colonel waltzed, or attempted to waltz, with me that evening at Lady Brewster's. My foot aches now at the bare recollection. I shall never dance with him again if I live to be a hundred,'5 protested Ethel. "He won't trouble you with his attentions while I am present," rejoined Alice. In this stream of idle talk and badinage,! the original question, to Mildred's relief, j seemed to be forgotten ; but her guardian's I comment on her appearance had been a warn- | ing to her to be cautious of any self-betrayal, J and from that time she was more than ever careful to conceal her real disquietude under a tranquil and cheerful manner. "If he really cares nothing for me, my absence will make no difference to him," she; said to herself; and if I have been mistaken, | as I sometimes think I have, it is the best I thing in the world for me that circumstances | should have brought me away from home." Mrs. Crofton'8 health was much benefited j by the change to the California climate; and j Mildred, emancipated from the constant con- j finement of waiting upon an invalid, which j she had formerly endured, begau to spend a great part of her time in active exercise, j which she found invigorating to her own physical and mental condition. Alice and Ethel were devoted to theatre going, and public : amusements of all sorts. These she did uot care to partake of, except occasionally ; but | she did enjoy long rambles through the re-' tired and hilly portions of the city, where she could breathe the invigorating air that blew freshly from the bay, and feast her eyes on the lovely prospect of mountain and wa-1 ter that met her view. She loved, too, to visit picture galleries and libraries, and spent many hours in the spacious rooms of the Mercantile Library, where she would find a quiet corner, and turn over the leaves of an interesting book, or a portfolio of engravings, undisturbed. Altogether, it was a freer life than she had ever before led, and in many respects it suited her; that absence of the conventional restraint to which she had hitherto been accustomed, which so forcibly strikes foreigners on visiting America, (most forcibly, perhaps, in these Western regions) proving rather agreeable than otherwise in her present state of mind, which made liberty of action an especial boon to her. It was on one of these occasions of solitary rambling that she met with a little adventure, which made quite an impression upoo her, and did not easily pass from her recollection. She had gone to return a volume to the Library, (where she was a subscriber) and finding there a book of poems, which she did not care to take home, but in which she wanted to refer lo a certain disputed'passage, she sat down to hunt the passage ip question, and re mained engrossed in the search for a consid erable time. Having, at last, satisfied herself on the contested point, she arose to return the book to the shelf, and, as she did so, became, for the first time, aware of the vicinity of a tall, rather elderly man, who was regarding her with a peculiarly earnest and enquiring expression. The exceeding iutentness of his gaze startled her, and, for a moment, she hesitated, and returned it, in the natural desire to see who it was that made her the object of his scrutiny. The face of the person, however, was quite uufamiliar to her, and withdrawing her glance, she was about to move past him, when, with a quick movement, he inter cepted her progress, by placiug himself directly in her way. "Excuse me, young lady," hesaid in a courteous tone, "but it strikes me that we have met before. Your face is wonderfully familiar to me." Mildred was not easily disconcerted or ..flfkor miarrl A iid though taken bv win.mi ?.*,? g,* O surprise at this address from a total stranger, she answered civilly and quietly? "I think you are mistaken, sir. I have been only a short time in California, and know few persons here." "Permit me to ask you one question," eagerly continued the other: "Are you not English, and connected with the Seabury family at Kent ?" "I am English, but do not know the family you allude to," replied Mildred, her surprise heightened that he knew, or guessed at, her nationality. Then, anxious to terminate the dialogue and escape from what might be mere impertinent inquisitiveness on the part of her interlocutor, she bowed slightly, and, with a dignified air, walked off to a distaut end of the room. While she stood before a i book-shelf, apparently scanning its contents, 6he glanced furtively in the direction of the seat she had recently quitted, and saw that the man was standing where she had left him, with his eves bent upon the floor, apparently engaged in thought. Half fearing a second approach from him?she knew not why?she drew her veil over her face and somewhat hurriedly left the room. When she related her adventure at home, Mr. Crofton looked grave, and said she had better not roam about too much alone. "I know it is an American fashion for young la dies to visit public places unattended," he said, "but in a great cosmopolitan city, like this, there is no knowing what kind of characters you may encounter. In future, Mildred, you had better let one of the children go with you when you want to get a book, or anything of that sort." "La, papa, I am sure Alice or I wouldn't be any protection to Mildred," exclaimed Ethel. "She always takes care of us; not we of her." "Was he a handsome man, Mildred?" asked Alice. "No; only ordinarily good looking, I believe. I did not look at him very attentively." "Didn't you ? I should have done so, if I had been you. Was he young or old ?" "Rather old, I fancy. I thought he was a gentleman, or I should not have answered him as I did," said Mildred, fearing her guardian might consider her imprudent. "He seemed really to think he had met me before." "Well, perhaps so ; but one never knows what these fellows are after," said Mr. Crof ton. He may have been a pickpocket Are you sure your purse is safe?" "Oh! yes," answered Mildred, laughing. "He wasn't anything of that sort, cousin Charles. Besides, he spoke of the Seaburys of Kent, you know." "That does not prove his respectability, however. He didn't mention in what capaci K/1 knnnmo annnailltpf] With t.hftni. if b y lie ll?u UVCViiav MW|WM>*WWM ...... , indeed he is acquainted with them at all. And for that matter, who are the Seaburys of Kent?" "I am sure I don't know," said Mildred. And the subject was dropped. About an hour later, however, when the girls had all left the room, Mr. Crofton laid down a newspaper he was reading, and suddenly exclaimed to his wife? "Good gracious, Margaret! I have just thought of something." "What is it, my dear?" asked Mrs. Crofton. "Wasn't it a Sir something Seabury who inherited Mildred's grandmother's property down there in Kent? Old Mrs. Sinclair, you know. You recollect the circumstances of her death." "Perfectly. I know her heirs were distant connections, but don't remember their name." "Rockwell, or Roxburg Seabury, I think, was the name of the one who came in possession of the estate. Ah! that was a splendid estate, I've heard. Pity poor Mildred was cut out of it! However, it's no use lamenting over that now. But what I was thinking of, was that this man who spoke to Mildred today might have known something about her, J although I can't imagine where he could ever have seen her before." "I have heard that Mildred is remarkably like her mother," said Mrs. Crofton. "Perhaps he may have known her, and recognized j the likeness. I'd like to know who he can be." "So should I," said her husband. "I'm always looking out for a chance of Mildred inheriting that estate yet?there is no telling what may happen before she dies." "I thought all chance of that was destroy- | ed forever," rejoined Mrs. Crofton. "The old people utterly renounced her mother, and :qow j that their property is in alien hands, 1 don't see how it can possibly revert to her." "Oh, well, I dare say she can get on without it," said Mr. Crofton. "But I should like to oust those Seaburys, if I could?not I that I know anything against them ; only I ! look upon them as interlopers. Of course, they have a right to the estate." "I have always thought the Sinclairs must have been very unnatural people," said his wife. "The old lady might at least have relented in favor of poor Mildred, after her mother's death; but I suppose the name of Rathbone was enough to cut her off from any chance of favor." "It's as good a name as any in the country," rejoined Mr. Crofton, warmly; "and if Mildred's father had been rich, they would have liked him well enough, but because he was an army officer, with nothing but his pay to depend upon, he wasn't good enough for their child. Rathbone was high spirited, too, and I dare say there were passages between them that no one knew of, which made the breach hopelessly wide. He wouldn't have touched a penny of their money if he had been starving." Mildred's return to the room, at this moment, prevented any further discussion of the subject. But the incident which had led to its introduction was really a very important one, though none of the parties concerned could as yet foresee its results. The person who had addressed our heroine in so unexpected a manner, was none other than Dr. Joshua Carey, Mr. Mulcahy's tenant, of whom mention had been made in the commencement of this history. And how had Dr. Carey guessed at her identity ? Simply through that strong like A" ^ "** J??J ttfkioK re ( !rr*f. Lieas LU IICl UCUU IllUtuci, U1 innvu V. . ? ton had spoken to her husband, and which was, indeed, sufficiently striking to claim the notice of any one who had known Mrs. Rathbone at Mildred's age. The Doctor walked home from the Library in no pleasant frame of miud, to judge from the expression of his countenance as he strode along. His meditations ran somewhat as follows: i . . . "So that girl has turned up at last! I could swear it was her. I have seen Ellen Sinclair look exactly as she did to-day, when she was bending over her book ; hundreds and hundreds of times. I knew she was somewhere in California, and now at last 1 have found her. The question is, what steps had I best take ? These people, these Croftons, are bound to discover, sooner or later, Seabury's friendly intentions towards her; and, once in communication with him, my chances are ruined forever. I'd like to choke the meddling fool that ever told him she was alive; would do it, too, if I could find out who it was. However, the only wonder is, that it didn't leak out years ago; but my luck has kept it a secret, so long. I must find out Crofton's residence, and keep a diligent eye on all their movements. It will go hard with me if I can't continue to circumvent the whole posse of idiots, as I have clone heretofore. I wasn't born with this long bead for nothiug." Reaching home, he found his sister, as usual, shut up in her own chamber, engaged with some harmless little bit of work. Marching toward her, he pulled it out of her hands and threw it, crumpled into a ball, upon the floor. "Put that tom foolery down," he ordered, (very unnecessarily, as he had already saved her the trouble of doing so) "and listen to what I have to tell you. Do you hear ?" "Yes, I hear," answered the little woman, meekly. "Well, pay attention. I have found'., or believe I have found, that girl." "What girl ?" asked his sister. "What girl, donkey! The girl that I have been trying to track out, for the last ten years, in vain, of course." "Mrs. Rathbone's daughter?" gasped Miss Carey, turning very white. "Yes, Mrs. Rathbone's daughter. She's living here, in this very city, or I'm greatly mistaken. Crofton?that's her guardian, as perhaps you have the sense to remember? came out here, and I'm bound, now, to follow them up and keep them in reach. So you'll be ready to lend me a helping hand, at any moment that I may require it You just recollect that, if you please." With this parting injunction, he walked off, leaving his sister in a state of great agitation. "Here, in this city!" she muttered, clasping her hands. "Oh! Heaven, help me to be strong!" CHAPTER VI. The reader may, perhaps, by this time, have become curious to know who Dr. Joshua Carey really was, and in what way his interest could be affected by Mildred's identity, or his relations in life at all connected with 1 ners. To Bod out this, it will be necessary to go back a number of years and learn something of the Sinclair family, of which Mildred's mother was a member. Old Mrs. Sinclair, to whom allusion has already been made, had been a Carey, of j County Cork, Ireland. Now the Careys were ! nobodys. But the Siuclairs were among the best people of Kent, and Miss Carey, by her marriage to Mr. Sinclair, was considered to have raised herself many degrees in the social I scale, and became, in consequence, the pride ! and boast of her owu family. She had one < brother, Mr. Michael Carey, and this brother i had two children, Joshua and Clarissa, who were, par conmjuent, her own nephew and i niece. After her marriage there was little i intercourse between the families; but her i brother dying some years later, his children i removed to England, and her own-daughter Ellen, being near the same age as themselves, the young people occasionally associated, and i once or twice Joshua and Clarissa were in- < vited to visit at the Sinclairs' country house, i Meanwhile, an uncle of Mr. Sinclair died, 1 and his large estate reverted to his nephew, < who was his nearest living relative. Mr. Sinclair did not like Joshua Carey, 1 and only tolerated his society. Though, for i his wife's sake, he never quarreled with him, until he had the presumption to seek his 1 daughter Ellen's hand in marriage. This ! was a piece of audacity which he could not brook, and Joshua was peremptorily ordered 1 to take himself off and never dare to show i his face in that neighborhood again. ] Of Ellen's subsequent marriage to Col. Rathbone and the consequences, an account has already been given, so that it will not be necessary to dwell upon them here. Mrs. Rathbone had lost sight of her cousins from the time when Joshua's ill-advised step had placed a barrier between them; but, by a singular coincidence, it chanced that he was a passenger on the very ship in which she embarked for England after her husband's death?a circumstance of which neither was aware at the time, and which only came to his knowledge when she was too near death to recoguize him. By a natural sequence of events, the letters and other papers which she conBded to the chaplain's care, fell into Joshua's hands; he coming forward as her near relative and representing himself as the fittest person to have the charge of her dying bequest. ia oofimaKI/3 I 11/ ueeu scaitcij ut oaiu hii? una personage cherished a lively hope of inheriting the KeDtisb property, after the renunciation of Ellen by his aunt and her husband ; and it was not to his^nterest that the fact of Mildred's existence should ever come to his aunt's ears, especially after her overtures of reconciliation to poor Ellen, of which he was now made aware. He took especial care, therefore, that Ellen's communication should not reach her; and with this view destroyed (as he believed) all the letters and certificates of which he had become possessed, which in any way could lead to the discovery of the truth; merely sending back the old lady's conciliatory epistle, by way, as he thought, of putting an effectual end to the matter. Old Mrs. Sinclair's mind grew very feeble during her last illness, and Joshua took occasion to intrude himself at various times, and on various pretexts, into her praience, in the hope of ingratiating himself into her favor, and coming in for, at least, a portion of the estate. But to his chagrin and mortification, he found himself disappointed in this hope, inasmuch as he was left out of the will entirelv. and all the satisfaction he cot was in V ? the shape of a small legacy to his sister, which he had no difficulty in turning entirely to his own advantage. Clarissa was, and ever had been, a poor, weak, helpless creature, quite unfit to combat her brother's powerful will, and becoming, for the most part, a mere tool in his hands. I have said that he believed the evidences of Mildred's existence to be destroyed. Such was not, however, the case. How intense would have been his fuiy, if he had known that, through carelessness, in a moment of haste, he had substituted the wrong papers for those which he desired to burn, and that these last, thrust into an envelope and left unguarded, had fallen into his sister's hands! Clarissa, already knowing something of Mildred's story and of her brother's interest in keeping her from her rights, had wisdom enough to seize upon the envelope and its contents, and 8tow them away where he could not find them, trusting to some future opportunity to turn them to good account. Of course, she lived in redoubled terror of him ever after. But she had, nevertheless, kept herse ^ ?P 11 xl crei sum an uicse y ratio. Sir Roxwell Seabury, the present owner of the Kentish estate, was a widower, elderly and infirm; and to him Joshua hastened to pay court. He did so far succeed in his attempts, as to convey the impression to Sir Roxwell, that he was a very worthy and estimable individual, who bad suffered great wrong at his aunt's hands; and all things seemed to be progressing in the dissimulator's favor, when an anonymous communication was received by Sir Roxwell, which cast a fresh damper upon his hopes. This mysterious letter announced that a young orphan girl, the rightful inheritor of the estate, was alive, and commended the said orphan to Sir Roxwell's consideration, as the fitting person upon whom, after his death (or before it, if it pleased him) the property should devolve. Mention was made of the quarrel between her parents and grand-parents, and of the subsequent desire of Mrs. Sinclair for a reconciliation, and the manner in which it was frustrated. But to these remarkable statements, no proof was appended, and only the exceeding earnestness and simplicity of the writer's tone, staggered the conviction, in Sir Roxwell's mind, that it was not all a hoax. It was evidently the production of an unsophisticated mind, quite ignorant of all legal requirements and forms, and merely imbued with a warm desire to see " '"a Jnnn milknilt Qnu nntt11 pd(TP nf fhfi J UOIILO UUU^f TTJbllVUV MUJT IBUV w. means, most efficient, in attaining such an end. The letter was, in fact, from Clarissa, who, though Mildred was personally unknown to her, felt most anxious to have her put in possession of what she considered her rights. This was partly in consequence of an affectionate remembrance she cherished for Mildred's mother, (of whom, in an humble, clinging way, she had been very fond,) and paitly, it must be owned, because of a desire to frustrate the plans of Joshua, whom she cordially disliked and despised. It was unfortunate that she could give account of Mildred's whereabouts, or any clue to her discovery, for neither she nor her brother knew what had become of her after her mother's death. In fact, like many other persons, they had not, for some time, known even of her existence. Joshua could never exactly discover how it ? - i -J * J _..j. was mat nis sisier nau iouuu out auytumg about Mildred. Assuredly, he would not have made her his confidante in the matter. But he knew that, in some way, she had got into the secret, and for this reason he kept a most vigilant watch over her, lest she might betray it, and do mischief io his plans. He believed her to be half an idiot, but capable of doing him a bad turn if an opportunity occurred. Sir Roxwell Seabury showed him the anonymous letter, and asked him what he thought about it. Joshua laughed, and said that it was his opinion that it was a hoax; most anonymous letters were. "I am not sure about that," said Sir Roxwell ; "and I own I should like to discover the truth. If this girl is really living, it seems a pity that she should be kept out of the property which would eventually be hers, had her mother lived to come in possession af it." # ; "It is singular, being so near a relative, i that I should have been in total ignorance of the whole affair until now," Baid Joshua. , "And you never had any reason to suspect that your cousin's child was living?" asked Sir Roxwell. "Never. I always believed, and still be- i lieve, that every one of her children died in i infancy. That, I know, was my aunt's supposition. Don't you think it singular that l my cousin should have put in no claim for the girl, even supposing she would ask no fa vors for her husband or herself? Mothers usually forget their pride where their children's welfare is concerned." "I can't say," replied Sir Roxwell. "I don't know anything what passed between the old lady and herself, beyond the mere fact of their having quarreled. I always fancied the old lady must have been hard and unjust ; though, according to most people's opinion, I ought not to find fault with the injustice, since I have benefited by it. But to tell the truth, I don't care much for the property. It is a fine property, to be sure; no man could desire a better. But whom have I got to share it with me, or leave it to when I die, that I care a straw about ? If I was a married man with a family, of course it would be different. But my wife and two boys arc dead, and probably my turn will come before lnnra T f iltin ?n litnnra if WTAIllr? luug. 11 uiio git'i ID icauj iiviugy iv ttvuiu be a satisfaction to me to look forward to ber enjoying it after me. Or 1 might adopt her, or something of that sort. But where the deuce can she be hidden away ? That is the question." "Yes, that is the question," said Joshua. "This is not an age in which orphan girls are kept mysteriously concealed from the knowledge of every one, until such time as it suits them to appear suddenly and put in a claim to a fortune. There are no grim castles or enchanted woods, over which fairies and witches keep watch and ward. If this girl were really alive and in England?or even out of England?what more improbable than that her very existence should have remained a secret until now ?" " You ought to have an interest in hunting her up, if she is alive," said 8ir Roxwell, looking narrowly at him. "You are probably her nearest relation?her mother's first cousin. Of course you would wish to be instrumental in securing her prosperity!" "Of course," said Joshua, seriously. "Nothing would give me more satisfaction. If I really believed one word of that letter, I'd start to try and hunt her up without an hour's delay." It was auite true that he would have liked " 1 ~ to do so; though he would not have been actuated bj as praiseworthy a motive as he would have wished Sir Roxwell to believe. For his own satisfaction, he wanted to discover Mildred's whereabouts; but nothing was farther from his thoughts than to make Sir Roxwell a party to the discovery. On the contrary, he meant to use every means in his power to keep him in ignorance on the subject. His hope was, (there being no direct heir to the estate) to make himself so useful and important to its present owner, as to establish the likelihood of coming in for a handsome share of the property after his death. He had already been once baulked in this aim, and he did not mean, if he could help it, to fail a second time. Sometimes a vague thought as to the possibility of his finding Mildred and marrying her, so as to make his prospects doubly sure, floated through his mind. But as it would not do to depend upon that, he redoubled his attentions to Sir Roxwell, and as time went by, and nothing was heard of Mildred, and the anonymous letter seemed to be almost forgotten, it did really appear as though his patience and perseverance were about to have their reward. Sir Roxwell's health grew more feeble, and Joehua, both in a medical and confidential capacity, grew more and more necessary to his comfort. All this time he kept his sister at a safe distance, but sufficiently within reach to control her movements, and maintain in her a wholesome awe of his displeasure. Sir Roxwell's health grew more precarious, and several times he was so ill that it seemed doubtful whether ho would recover. On one of these occasions, when Joshua, as usual, was hovering assiduously about him, he uttered certain expressions, which created in the Doctor's heart a livelier hope than he had ever yet indulged in, of attaining his desired end. "Do you know, Carey," he said, after a nmlnnced silence, durine which he had ap parently been absorbed in thought, "I almost incline to your opinion in regard to that letter?" "What letter, Sir Roxwell ?" asked Joshua. "That annonyraous one. I verily believe it must have been a fabrication." "There can be little doubt of it, sir," rejoined his listener. "I know you've thought so, all along. It seems to me that if there was any truth in the story about that girl, something more would havecome to light by this time?eh?" "Assuredly, I think so." "Because, as you say, it's not easy for people to keep a young girl concealed from everybody's knowledge, like an enchanted princess. And besides, what motive could there be for such a prooeeding ?" "None whatever, that I can imagine." "But then, on the other hand, it seems remarkable that anybody should have taken the trouble to invent such a tale, without the chance of deriving any benefit from it? and what possible benefit could any one derive from it?" "Isn't there any person you know, who might possibly have an idea that you contemplate leaving your property to some other person, against whom the said party may have a grudge ?" cunningly hazarded Joshua. Sir Roxwell, who was irritable at times, answered with some sharpness? "Can't you talk plainly, man, so that I can understand you ?" he exclaimed. "What the deuce can I make out of such a mixing up of 'some persons' and 'other persons' and 'said parties' ? What do you mean ?" ? virVtAt T un xt ftir Pnviroll flirtIIffVl 1T1C1 Cljf n lllkb X OWJ ) ?/! I JLUVA livo } Vi*WMga<| perhaps, I did not express myself with sufficient clearness. I meant that there might be some one who hoped to inherit the estate? mind, this is simply a conjecture without any foundation?and at the same time feared you had other views. Now to preclude the chance of your leaving it in a quarter unfavorable to them, they might trump up this story about my cousin's daughter being alive, to turn your thoughts in that direction, don't you see ? and thus alter any other intention you might have. Of course, as I said just now, this is mere conjecture on my part Some people go to work in a very roundabout way." "I should think that would be a roundabout way, indeed?a way I oan't see the sense of," said the invalid, testily. "I don't ' understand yet what you are driving at. , Who knows anything about my intentions in regard to the estate ? Maybe I don't know | them myself. And what could put the no- < tion into your head that there is anybody hoping to come in for my property ? Do you know of such a person ?" "Certainly not," Joshua meekly answered. "Then why the deuce do you start such an j idea ; and why should anybody care if it toat ( so ?" I've no relatives to bother themselves , about me, and mighty few friends. You ] know how long I lived abroad. England is i scarcely like my home. I didn't suppose, as regards any claims others may have upon me, or any obligations of, mine to do this, that or the other for anybody, there is a more independent man alive than I." "I know that, Sir Roxwell. I know all that Pardon me for making any suggestions that are distasteful to vou. I snoke merelv at random," Joshua hastened to reply, anxious to propitiate the irritated old man.. "I was only trying to sift this little mystery, as well as I could ; but I had no intention of displeasing you." "Oh! well, it's no matter," said Sir Roxwell, softening, "I don't want to quarel with you, Carey, of all people; for 'Fin sure you are the best friend I have. I did not intend to speak impatiently just now ; but a sick man isn't accountable for all that he says, you know." "My dear Sir Roxwell 1 don't speak in that way; I require no apology," said Joshua, earnestly. "You have been too truly my friend and benefactor for me ever to doubt the kindness of your intentions." "I don't know about being a benefactor. We may cry quits on that score," said Sir Roxwell, who was easily appeased. "You have been invaluable to me during my sickness?particularly the last attack?and I don't hesitate to say so. And this much, .man, I'll say to you, in confidence?if that girl doesn't turn up, you may look out to be handsomely treated by me, one of these days. You deserve it. In any case, you'll not fail to reap a reward; but if the cousin ever is , found, of course you understand that she'll ( be the one to be mainly considered." "No one would be more delighted, in such a case, than I," replied Joshua. "As to the j rest, your kindness overwhelms me. And I'm sure, my dear, kind friend, you will ac- 1 quit me of all selfish or interested motives, in ' doing the little I have been able to do for j you. I never dreamed of reaping any re- j ward, beyond the mere gratification of feel- . ing myself instrumental to your welfare." \ "Ah! well," rejoined Sir Roxwell, tumbling himself wearily over on his pillow, "we 1 have discussed the subject enough for the 1 present. Let me have my drops now. I ( think I shall try to sleep." , Whether or not he thought that be had j spoken too plainly on the subject, he did not revert to it again, but carefully avoided any < further allusion to Mildred, or the property. But he had said enough to fill Joshua's heart < with the most delightful anticipations. , "Mildred Rathbone never sh&U turn up," ] he mentally resolved, "as long as Sir Rox- i well's alive. When once he's dead, and I ' have matters in my own hands, I won't give 1 a fig for her chances. But I swear she shall j never come in my way." Quite by chance, he at last found out ( where Mildred actually was. He had ridden i over to a neighboring town to transact some 1 business for Sir Boxwell, and stopping to dine j at an inn there, overheard a conversation be- j tween two gentlemen?strangers to the place? ^ which at once, put him in possession of the . facts that he desired to know. i "I Buppose you know the Croftons are off < to America," one of them said; and the other 1 replied? ( "No, I did not know it. When did they * gO?" ; " 1 "Only a few days since." j "The whole family?" t "Yes. Wife, daughters and ward. By the i way, did you see that ward of Crofton's? She's a beautiful girl." | "Mildred Rathbone, you mean ? I met her once. She is uncommonly handsome but , very reserved." < "She is better looking than either of Crof- ( ton's own daughters; but as she hasn't a 1 penny in her own right, she may remain on * her guardian's hands longer than he wishes." j "Why, isn't he fond of her?" asked the , other. , ? | "Oh, yes, I believe so," carelessly rejoined s the first speaker. "There was some idea, when he adopted her, that there was a chance * of her coming in for some property. Her mother had been disinherited, or something g of that kind, and people thought the daugh- j ter might recover the forfeited property, if i Crofton took the right steps to secure it for 1 her. But he has never done so.. He is a 1 proverbially lazy man, you Know; and 1 ; have heard him say that if there was anything r that he detested, it was the idea of having to c go to law. Perhaps there was nothing in the i story, after all!" s They talked of something else, but Joshua, ^ who had listened with breathless attention to 8 every word, had received a clue which he ' was not slow to follow up. By diligent, e though very guarded inquiry, he speedily t learned all he wanted to know about the t Croftons?people of whom he had known noth- c ing previously?and their relations toward I Mildred. He found out that they had gone a to California, though not exactly to what part * of that distant region, in regard to which ^ Joshua's geographical knowledge was defective. The idea occurred to him that by fol- j lowing them there, and placing himself in e direct contact with the object of his search, he could more readily bring matters to a fo- ? cus. At any rate, he was restlessly anxious to accomplish some definite end. He trumped g up an ingenious story about unexpected news g having reached him, which rendered it neces- a sary for him to absent himself for some time a from home; and whisked his surprised sister D off to California, where the Croftons, having lingered for some weeks in New York, ar- g rived about the same time as themselves. d [to be continued.] , tl gy "Friendships are never completed till . men are bound to each other by the common { experience of sorrow." Correct Men who " never before exchanged more than a nod in * passing, will become sworn friends and allies P in a common cause in two minutes after they > meet at the back door of a saloon on Sunday morning, and find it closed. ^ A married man in New Hampshire has p adopted an original method of economy. 01 One morning when he knew his wife would r< see him, he kissed the servant girl. The tl bouse expenses were instantly reduced $300 81 per year. ni Heading. THE SONG OF THE CAMP. Bayard Taylor's recent death brings to mind his literary labors, and among the earlier writings of the poet, none surpass the charming lyric which follows. It was suggested by an incident in the Crimean war, while Mr. Taylor was engaged in his duties as . a newspaper correspondent: "Give us a song! the soldiers cried. The outer trenches guarding, When the heated guns of the camp allied Grew weary of bombarding. The dark Redan, in silent scoff, Lay grim and threatening, under; And the tawny mound of the Malakoff No longer belched i ts thunder. There was a pause. A guardsman said, "We storm the forts to-morrow; Sing while we may, another day Will bring enough of sorrow." They lay along the battery's side, Below the smoking cannon; Brave hearts, from Severn and from Clyde And from the banks of Shannon. /, They sang of love and not of fame, Forgot was Britain's glory; Each heart recalled a different name, But all sang "Annie Laurie." Voice alter voice caught up the song, Until its tender passion Rose like an anthem, rich and strong, Their battle-eve confession. Dear girl, her name he dared not speak, But, as the song grew louder. Something upon the soldier's cheek Washed off the stains of powder. Beyond the darkening ocean burned The bloody sunset's embers. While the Crimean valleys learned How English love remembers. And once again a fire of hell Rained on the Russian quarters. With scream of shot and burst of shell, And bellowing of the mortars! And Irish Nora's eyes are dim For a singer, dumb and gory ; And English Mary mourns for him : ) Who sang of "Annie Laurie." Sleep, soldiers! still in honored rest Your truth and valor wearing; The bravest are the tenderest? The loving are the daring. GOVERNOR SIMPSON'S VIEWS. Acting-Governor Simpson has recently been "interviewed" by a correspondent of the OinrinnaH Inquirer, from a report of which we extract the following: Correspondent?Governor, in view of the Bxed political complexion in South Carolina, which may as well be accepted as a political fact, and in view of the possible influence arising therewith, it has become important to know the policies and political preferences finding acceptance with your people. I have, therefore, called to know your Excellency's views touching certain questions of interest to the Dublic. Governor.?I am quite willing that you ibould know my individual views touching matters of public policy, and though not elect* ^d to office with particular reference to my opinions touching such matters, I think the news I entertain and hold are in common with my fellow-citizens generally in the South. Cor.?Who do you prefer for President, and ought he to come from the East or the West? Gov.?T prefer Senator Bayard for president jver any man in the United 8tatee. He is pure in character?which is the first and most important qualification?exalted in intellect and sound in politics. I thinkjie .has the ?. best conceptions of the trus "theory of our system of government of any of our public men, and his integrity of character would not allow him to deviate from that theory for any purpose whatever. 'Tis strange that the people if the United States don't see this, and breaking through party trammels, don't put him at the head of tne government. Next to Bayard [ wculd prefer Hendricks or Thurman. Not because they are from the West; I don't think ;hat the question of locality should have anything to ao with this matter. That idea implies that a large number oi electors could be nduced to vote for a man simply on account >f his locality, without regard to his political riews or character. I have a higher opinion )f the masses than this, and I don't think we ibould pander to this idea. If there seemed to be any chance for Hancock, I would prefer iim next to Bayard. I don't know rtiy man n the East suitable for the place. Cor.?-What are your views about hard noney? Gov.?As a citizen T am a hard money nan, but in the election of President, I think svery question of mere legislation ought to be lubordinate to the higher question of confining the general government to its constitutional orbit. That is the vital question of the lay with us?in fact, the very existence of the government of our fathers depends on it? ind where a man is sound on that, this covers i multitude of faults on matters of mere legisation. We had better decide the question whether we shall have the right to legislate, jefore we fall out about what measures we ihall adopt Cor.?What do you say as to the solid South? ,Gov.?As to the solid Sooth ? That mater is perverted. The 8outh is not solid as a ection against the North as a section. The neople of the several Southern States are sold in the belief that we in the South have >een most unjustly dealt with by the Repubican party, since the war, in overthrowing tur ornrppnmAnta on/1 nnttino no un/lot* tVio ieel of ignorance, corruption and incapacity, rhey are solid in the belief that the only rescue from this state of things is the restoration n each State, of integrity with competency, ind as these qualities were found alone in the Democratic party of these States, that party hould be placed in power; and, inasmuch as he danger to this came from the general gov* irnment transcending its constitutional powtrs and interfering with the internal aflairo of he States, they are solid, too, in the belief that hat government ought to be confined to its institutional boundary, and they are surmised that the people of the Northern States .re not solid on the same line, because this is 10 sectional question, but it is a question vhicH lies among the foundation stones of the government. Cor.?Do you think that the Democratic . larty South ought to demand a place on the lational ticket in 1880 ? Gov.?I don't think the Southern Demorats ought to demand a place on the national icket as a sine qua non?certainly not on the ;round of locality. No; what we want is ;ood government; and what I mean by good ;overnment is, as already stated, constitution,1 government. We don't care anything bout office. No doubt the South could fur,ish men eminently qualified; but office is a mall matter to us, compared to the great uestion of getting the national government ack to its old moorings. Bayard and Henricks would start this government right for he second century. The Big Breeding of Olden Time.?We ear a good deal about the high breeding and 1 vincible politeness of the olden time. There as more ceremony; there was more deference aid by poor to rich, by employed to employer, y commoner to lord, by citizens to theirpubc servants; but after a wide survey of the jcords of the past, and noting hundreds of idications too trifling to mention, I am fully ereuaded that in our hourly intercourse with oe another as mere human beings, without sgard to rank or caste, we are more polite lan our ancestors'?more generally conaiderte of one another's feelings, rights and digIty.?Jame8 Burton,