Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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? , ? - - ? ~ lewis m. grist, Proprietor. Jnbtjitiilitiil Jfamilo JUtosppr: Jot tjjt ^romotiffn of I jit fjolitical, Social, ^gritntoral aitli Commercial Interests of t|e Sonf^. | TERMS--$3.00 A TEAR, IN ADVANCE. VOL. 25. YORKYILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, JANUARY 30, 1879. NO. 5. ^elected focttg. I "DON'T STOP MY PAPER." Don't 9top my paper, printer, * Don't strike my name off yet; .. You know the times are stringent, And dollars are hard to get ; But tug a little harder, Is what I mean to do, And scrape the dimes together, Enough for me and youi I can't afford to drop it; I find it doesn't pay To do without a paper. However others may; I hate to ask my neighbors To give me theirs on loan, They don't just say, but mean it, Why don't you have your own ? You can't tell bow we miss it, If it, by any fate, Should happen not to reach us, Or come a little late, Then all is in a hubbub, And things go all awry, And, printer, if you're married You know the* reason why. I can not do without it, It is no use to try, For other people take it, And, printer, so must I; I, too, must keep me posted. And know what's going on, ' Or.feel and be accounted' .j ' A fogy simpleton. -lit , . ,.tJ . . Then take it kindly, printer, If pay be somewhat slow, For cash is not so plenty, And wants not few, you know ; Bat I mnst have my paper ; Cost what it may to me, I'd rather dock my sugar And go without'my tea. Jin ?riginal Written for the Yorkville Enquirer. MISS CAREY'S BOXBY AN OLD CONTRIBUTOR. CHAPTER IX. "Father," said Frank one morning, venturing upon a delicate subject at an apparently propitious moment, Sir Francis being in unusually good health and spirits, "if you are willing to spare me for a time, I should like to make a little trip to the Continent he fore long." "A trip to the Continent!" echoed his father. What for, Frank?for pleasure ?" "Not entirely for pleasure, sir. Indeed, honestly speaking, it is not for pleasure," said Frank reddening, but determined to come to the point without flinching, "but to satisfy myself in regard to a matter of vital importance." Sir Francis looked keenly at him. "Am I to be made a party to this important matter," he asked, "or is it a secret?" "I do not wish to have any secret from you, father. I am going to find, if I can, some clue to Mildred Rathbone's fate." Sir Francis made a petulant gesture. "Folly and nonsense, Frank !?haven't you given up that wild idea yet? I tell you the girl is dead, without a doubt." "That fact has not been established," rejoined Frank. "When it is, I shall give up hope; but not before?" "It can never be established, more than it j already is," said his father. "You know, as well as I do, that no means have been left un' " " ^ "? - * I? 1 ?. tried to find her ; ana mere can ue out one reason for her total disappearance?the reason which has been accepted by her family and friends as, a fact, supported by circumstantial evidence as strong as proof." "It is no proof to my mind," replied Frank. "I know that because she has liot been found she is supposed to be dead. But I believe that more effectual steps may be taken for her recovery, than have been taken yet, and I mean, if I can, to set them in motion." "You will find your efforts wasted," said his father,'"and your time and money thrown away. What do you propose to do first ?" "See Mr. Crofton and learn the exact particulars of her disappearance, which I have never yet been able to discover." "He can give you little satisfaction on that point, if the account generally accepted ot the matter is correct." ? . "Never mind. He may be able to give me some useful hints. After that, I may go to America, if I see a chance of anything being accomplished by the move." "To America! That will be an expensive journey, as I suppose you are aware." "Yes sir, but I have money sufficient for it. I knew that you would not be able to assist me in my undertaking, so I reserved a sum originally destined for a different purpose, which I think will cover all expenses. I shall economize, of course, as much as pos sible." Sir Francis was silent for a time. At last he said, without looking at Frank? "I suppose you have made up your mind, then, to marry this girl if ever she should be found, common sense and prudence to the contrary notwithstanding." "My mind has loBg been made up on that point, father. But I wish," said Frank, coming nearer to Sir Francis and speaking very earnestly, "I do wish that you could enter into my feelings on this subject, and not main? tam eueh-? resolute opposition tu my plans.i It grieves me lo ieei mat 1 am not acting in accordance with your views; but if ybu knew how deeply my welfare is concerned?" "My dear boy, I know that you are pursuing a shadow, and it vexes me to see you have so little common-sense," said Sir Francis, with a degree of impatience he could not repress. "I desire to see you happy, but I see no prospect of your reaching this end by the road you have undertaken to pursue. In the first place, as I have repeatedly said, reason and facts, indisputable facts, point to the conclusion that there is no such person now living as the one you are about to try to find. You are, therefore, going on a wildrgoose chase, which in all probability will result in fatal disappointment to your hopes. Admitting, however, that there is a possibility (mind, I don't believe it) a bare possibility of] her Deing discovered, 1 consider you me most unlikely of all persons to be the one to effect that discovery. Then again, if she is discovered, what right have you to expect that she will marry you ?" "I have no right to expect that she will," replied Prank, ''but I have the right to ask her, at all events." "Well! I put that question aside, for it does not affect the subject much. I do not suppose it will ever be put to the test. But what will the world say to your running about on such a quest as this? You will be an object of general and rather unpleasaut comment." "I shall not blazon my intentions to the world, sir. Cannot I go abroad for a few weeks or months, without exciting speculation or surprise ? I can very easily find an ob ject for my journey which will Batisfy all inquisitive miuds." "These things generally leak out somehow," said Sir Francis, who had a morbid horror of gossip, particularly where it could concern his own family or their affairs. "This shall not, sir, so far as I can prevent it; and Mr. Crofton, for his ward's sake, would not spread any report which could connect mv name with hers." - :.? - "You are certainly the most devoted lover I ever heard of," said Sir Francis, half vexed, half touched by the young man's earnestness, which showed itself unconsciously in the flush of his cheek and the tremor of his voice. "You are as enthusiastic as the knights of fable, who roamed the world bver, exercising their prowess in behalf of ladies whom they had erected on a pedestal of their own fancy, content to worship them without the hope of a reward." "But I do hope for my reward," said Frank, "and may yet surprise you by obtaining it. Now, father, give your consent freely to my scheme. Think of the importance?to me?of its success, and give me at least a God-speed to cheer me on my way. If I fail, you will'have the satisfaction of knowing that my doubts are laid at rest?fori will not give up until they are?and if I succeed, promise me that you will not grudge me ray reward, provided I can obtain it. Won't you make that compact ?" "You are a headstrong, impulsive boy," said Sir Francis, "and you put no feith in the judgment of those older and more experienced than yourself. Nevertheless, as you are a very good son to me, and have acted most dutifully of late, I suppose I must let you take your own way now, though a very foolish way it is. I could keep you at home, ot course, by insisting that my health, and so forth, won't permit me to get on without your assistance; but I won't have you consider me a selfish old tyrant, and, therefore, I'll oppose your mad scheme no more." "Thank you, sir," said Frank heartily. Sir Francis turned to his desk and wrote off something. "Mind you," he said when he had finished, "I don't approve of you expedi tion, or put a whit more faith in its results than I did before; but I am willing you should undertake it, simply that you may become convinced of its futility, and acknowledge that my judgment was better than yours. Therefore, that you may not have any unnecesssary stumbling-block in your way, you can make use of this if it will be any help to you." He handed Frank the slip of paper on which he had been writing, as he spoke. It proved to be a checque on his banker for a hundred pounds. "You are very good, sir, but I don't require it, and I won't take it," replied Frank. "You need all you have, and I am not going to let my scheme?particularly as it may result in nothing?be a drag on your pocket." , "Nonsense ! You need not spend it if you can do without; but you must take it and have it by you in case of an emergency. I insist upon it," said Sir Francis, so positively that Frank made no farther demur. "I shall consider it well spent, if it helps destroy your delusion, which, I see, nothing but your own personal experience can do away with. And now that I have sacrificed my reason to your tolly, 1 think i may, in turn, exercise a cmim on your generosity. When you have returned from your expedition, satisfied that farther effort will be vain, and with your present idle fancy scattered to the winds, will you then reconsider the proposal I have more than once made to you, and give your cousent to my cherished wish ?" "Yes," said Frank, without hesitation ; "it you can reconcile it to your conscience, to have me do the young lady you allude to, the injustice of making, or proposing to make, her my wife, without feeling a spark of affection for her, I shall then no longer decline complying with your wish, as I shall be perfectly indifferent as to what becomes of me." "Humph !"' was all Sir Francis said. He was not particularly satisfied with the tone of Frank's reply ; but thinking probably that it would not be wise to press this delicate subject farther, he reverted quickly to the former theme. "When will you set out?" he inquired. "Immediately, sir ; that is, within a day or two. I shall see Eleanor and her husband, of course; so if you or any of the family have any commissions for them, just have them prepared and I'll take charge of them." Lena was wild to accompany her brother; but this, of course, was impossible. "There is no telling where I may bring up, before I get back," said Frank. "I suppose you will go to the world's ends, if necessary," said enthusiastic Lena. "Of course I shall." "And if you find her, you will bring her back with you ?" "At any rate, I will place her in the hands of her rightful guardian," said Frank, "and trust to my good fortune for the rest." "Oh 1 the rest will be easy," said Lena, confidently. "She wouldn't be so ungrateful as to deny you anything, after you had done her such a service." "I don't want her to give me anything out of gratitude. But it is rather premature to discuss that question yet, little sister. I may never have the happiness of finding her." "My dear Frank, I believe you will. Something tells me that she is alive, and only waiting for you to discover her hiding place. See if I am not a true prophetess." The words seemed idle, yet they cheered Frank strangely. Something in his own heart whispered an echo to the prophecy, and filled him with hope as he set off on his quest. - 1 J It was, indeed, a strange and vague unuertaking ! Sir FraDcis had probably only given utterance to the opinion which people in general would have entertained on the subject, when he said that Frank was going on a wild-goose chase, and that nothing but disappointment could come of the attempt. Even those persons who had been on the scene of action, at the time of Mildred's abduction, could give no particulars of the occurrence; how, then, could he obtain from them any sufficiently definite information to be of any use? And if every effort had been made, which it had seemed possible to make, at a time when such efforts were most likely to succeed, and still had failed, how almost impossible it appeared that a search undertaken so loug afterwards should result in any better success! Still, amid these discouraging reflections, the cheering inward voice bade him hope, and sustained his resolution to persevere. He obtained, from a mutual acquaintance, Mr. Grofton's address, and at once proceeded to Boulogne, where the family were located for the present. He had no difficulty in finding them at their hotel, and sent in his card with the request that he might be allowed to speak tc Mr. Crofton on a subject of importance. They had met once or twice before, in a casual way, and therefore greeted each other now as acquaintances; though Mr. Crofton was undoubtedly surprised at Frank's request for a particular interview. He did not express his surprise, however, but showed his visitor into a private room, where they were 1 oofo from intorrnntinn "You will not thipk, I hope, that I am taking an unpardonable liberty," began Prank, dashing at once into the subject, "when I venture to broach a topic which must naturally be a very painful and distressing; one to you. My apology must be the interest which /feel in the matter, and which, I may safely say, is as deep a one as your own/' "Explain, my dear sir," said Mr. Crofton kindly. "Iam quite, ready to listen." He saw that his young guest was agitated and embarrassed, and wanted to put him at his ease. "I allude to the mysterious disappearance of your ward, Miss Rathborne," continued Frank. The words had scarcely passed his lips, when Mr. Crofton jumped up from his chair with an agitated face. "Do you know anything?have you heard anything of her?" he eagerly exclaimed. "No sir?unhappily, I know nothing of her. It is' to learn what I can in regard to her fate that I come to you now." Mr. Crofton, with an expression of deep disappointment, sank back into his seat. "I can tell you nothing?absolutely nothing," he said. "May I ask your motive for desiring the information ?" "I am quite willing to give it, sir. My motive is the wish and resolve to find your ward, if she is still living. If she is not, to satisfy myself beyond a doubt that all farther search will be vain." "And you are actuated in this wish by a special interest in poor Mildred ?" "By the deepest interest, sir, that it is possible for one human being to feel in another. Your ward is?or was?dearer to me than I can express," replied Frank, with emotion. Mr. Crofton looked earnestly at him. "I knew nothing of this, until now." he said. "Was she aware of your sentiments toward her?" ; ... "I never ventured to express them openly," said Frank, "but I don't think she could have been quite ignorant of them. It may be presumption in me to dream that they should ever meet with a return. But whether, in case of her being found, she should prove indifferent to my affection or not, the uncertainty can make no difference in the course I am taking now. I am willing to explore the remotest corners of the earth on the chance of finding her." Mr. Crofton was silent for a moment. He was evidently very much surprised, and a little perplexed, by what he heard. "Let us come to a clearer understanding, if you please, Mr. Coventry," he said, presently, drawing his chair a little nearer his visitor as he spoke. "Won't you go back to the beginning, and tell me how and when you first met Mildred, and why it was that I did not know of this attachment. Indeed, I was scarcely aware 'that you were mutually acquainted." Frank, as he was in duty bouud, complied with this request, by briefly sketching the circumstances of his first acquaintanceship with Mildred, and their subsequent intercourse. His honest, straightforward manner carried conviction with it, and left no doubt of his sincerity in the mind of his listener. "If my adopted child were with me new," he said, when Frank had finished, "nothing would please me better than have her reward j your constancy as it deserves, ?5pt J fes.r, 1 greatly fear, that it is worse than folly to dream of the possibility of her ever being restored to us. I have long since reconciled myself to the conviction that she is lost to us forever." "Do you mean that you believe her to be dead ?" asked Frank in a low voice. "I do, most assuredly. Were she living, she could not fail to have been discovered, through the exertions which have been made. Don't you know I have had the most experienced detectives in Europe and America continually on the search ?" "I know that," rejoined Frank, "but still I am not convinced of her death." "What reason have you for doubting it?" "Simply the absence of all proof in the matter." "There could not well be any proof, beyond the absolute fact that she has totally disappeared." "I know," said Frank, "that it seems mere folly in me to differ from the generally-accepted opinion, which bears so much reason Ion its surface; yet an indefinable presenti ' |1 x V . _?!!! ,1 1_ _ ment assures me tnai sne wiu one ua^ ue found." "My dear young friend, I can only say that I fear you are encouraging yourself in a delusion. God knows I would gladly share your hopes if I could." "You cannot say more to discourage me than I have already heard," said Frank. "Others believe, like yourself, that I am following a mere phantom of the imagination." "And still you are not deterred from following it?" "No, sir ; nor will I ever be, until I become convinced that it is. indeed, a delusion." "Well," said Mr. Crofton, after another pause, "what is it you wish me to do ? I see, unfortunately, no way of helping you." "I want you to give me the exact date of her disappearance, and the exact manner, as j far as you cau, in which it happened. I want you to supply me with the minutest scrap of information which is in any way connected with it, so that no link which may possibly lead to any useful discovery shall be wanting-" "So far, I can help you," said Mr. Crofton, "but I am only telling you what has been ' told to others, whose greater experience aud facilities for success would be likely to turn ! thisscauty information to better account than you will be able to do." i He took a memorandum book from his pocket, and turning over the leaves, presently tore out one and handed it to Frank. "On that leaf," he said, "you will find written all the particulars with which I am able to furnish you. I have always kept a memorandum of the event, exactly as it occurred, constantly by me, that I may make use of it at any time. You can keep that, as I have one or two fac-similes of it elsewhere." Frank thanked him and glanced over the paper. It did not seem to contain much that could substantially aid him in bis enterprise. Still the dates might be useful. "What do you propose doing first?" asked Mr. Crofton. "I shall in probability go to San Francisco," said Frank. "At least, that is my present idea." .; I . "I cannot pretend to advise you," said Mr. Crofton, "for, as I said before, I see no chance of success. However, it is not fair in me to cast additional discouragement upon a scheme which is sufficiently doubtful in itself, so I ah nil anv nn more. exceDt that mv pravers and " *" " * a , (j 4 " earnest wishes for the success of your undertaking will go with you. Even if our dear girl is dead, it would be a melancholy comfort to us to be assured of the truth, instead of lingering in suspense, as we haye done so long. And now, Mr. Coventry, let us drop this painful subject for the present, and spend the rest of the evening in my parlor, where you will find my wife aiad daughters. I shall be pleased to have them know you." Frank, albeit scarcely in a mood for meeting strangers, complied with the proposal, and was presently introduced to Mrs. Croftou and the two girls. Mr. Crofton, of course, said nothing to them of the object which had brought him thither, and as Frank mentioned his intention of paying the Churchill's a flying visit, they naturally concluded that that was the chief aim of his journey. Mrs. Crofton had known I^ady Coventry quite well in their youthful days, and it pleased and interested her to hear Frank's account of his mother and sisters, and of their home life. 'I don't know how it is that we have met so seldom since we have been married," she said, speaking of Lady Coventry. "I suppose we are both terribly domestic. But I hope when we go back home, our families will become more friendly. I should like your sisters as companions for my girls, and twenty miles need not be an insuperable barrier to visiting." Frank said the pleasure would be mutual, and presently took his leave, thinking the Croftons very nice people indeed. CHAPTER X. Mr. Churchill and his wife, who were by this time settled in their Italian villa, were agreeable surprised by the sight of Frank, which wa9 quite uulooked for, as he had not forewarned them of his visit. They were still more astonished when they learned that he was on his way to America; particularly as he did not think it necessary to impart to them his real reasons for the trip. He was a little shy about entering into any explanation upon a subject which seemed a very sacred one, except with those whom it most intimately concerned ; though he doubted not that, in time, Eleanor would find out all about it through Grace's letters, as those two never could keep any secrets from one another. Indeed, Eleanor, as soon as she began to revolve the matter in her mind, was not without some suspicion of the truth, for of course her brother's attachment to Mildred was as well know to her as to the rest of the family, but she did not choose to solicit his confidence, since he did not voluntarily bestow it upon her. .. * \ - 5 .. :: "You are in a desperate hurry to leave us, Frauk," she said, when he announced his intention of setting off the third day after his arrival. "Perhaps I shall see you on my way back," he replied; "or perhaps by that time you will be at Beech wold again." "But you haven't seen Florence yet. You should stay here at least a fortnight or three wfipta and let. 11 a show vnn ovfirvthina." " J J o "Oh ! I cau do Florence in a day," said Frank. "It won't be very thoroughly done, I am afraid; but I suppose we must make the best of it. And there's one of the Princess of Conti's grand receptions coming off next Thursday evening. Clarence could easily get you a card, and I should so like to have you g?" "I am glad to be spared the infliction," said Frank ungratefully. "Nevermind, Nelly, don't look horrified; I shall be glad to make the acquaintance of your fine Princess one of these days, when I am in a fitter mood for merry-making than I am just now." "You have been worn down by businessworries at home, and have grown morbid. Well, I hope your journey will do you good? and I hope it will be a prosperous one in every way," said E.eanor rather significantly. "You will go through Rome at all events," said Mr. Churchill. "It will not delay you much." Frank, however, did-care for sight seeing; he was impatient to be gone. He, therefore, on leaving Florence, retraced his route as far as Geneva, and thence proceeded to Brest, where he intended to embark. But here an unlooked-for accident befell him, which forced him to postpone his. departure, and caused him serious trouble and inconvenience. In + cfairntlQO /vP tka Vlrttpl Urkprp XLA OOCWUUllig llllU OVUll VMOVi VI tuv uvuvi ww mswa v he was stopping for a night, on his way up to his bedroom, he stepped, unawares, upon a marble which a child had carelessly left on the stairs. His foot slipped, and putting his hand forward to catch himself as he fell, his whole weight came upon his wrist, dislocating it, and obliging him to have the attendance of a surgeon, who fortunately happened to be in the house at the time. The accident, though it seemed a trifling one, proved rather serious in its consequences. The pain resulting from it was great, aud a slight fever ensued. His physician warned him against the hurry and excitement of travel while in this condition. Indeed, he was rendered comparatively helpless for the time, as it was his right hand which had suffered, and he was obliged, though very reluctantly, to submit to a delay of several days. He chafed considerably at the detention, but as fretting could do no good, and rather tended to increase the evil, he had to resign himself to circumstances with the best grace he could. He was strolling through the courtyard of the hotel one evening, moodily puffing a cigar, when a voice he knew accosted him with "Halloo, Frank, old fellow, what are you doing here?" ,, He turned and saw a college friend, James Armstrong, whom he had not met since their parting at Oxford several years before. The surprise was mutual, and he was delighted to see a familiar face at a time when the sight was particularly cheering to his situatiou. A few words explained the situation. "So you've gone and broken your wrist! Too bad; but it's an ill wind that blows nobody good, and the interruption to your progress has been the cause of my meeting you. We'll have a good time together, while we are here." "When did you arrive?" asked Frank. "Only this morning. I did intend to go straight on, but I'd rather stop a day or so, now that I've stumbled upon you in this unexpected manner. By the way, a bright idea occurs to me. My aunt, whom I am about to visit, would be delighted to have you g9 with me. She lives in a little quiet out-of-theway country place, a few miles from here, and I know would take excellent care of you. Come, what do you say to the plan ? It's a first fate one, 1 think." Frank hesitated. The proposal was tempting, but he demurred at the idea of intruding his presence upon strangers at so short a notice. "You are veiry kind," he replied, "but how do you know that my company would be welcome ?" "Bless your soul, my dear boy, there is no doubt on that point whatever. My aunt delights in company, particularly as she has very little chance of enjoying it, and any friend of mine is sure to be welcome. The only thing is, that you are likely to be bored. It's a pretty dull sort of a place where she lives." "Talk of my being bored, after the five wretched days I've spent here!" said Frank. "Well, as long as you will ensure me a cordial reception, I am only too willing to accept your kind offer. Of course, you'll have to let her know beforehand." "Not a bit of it," rejoined Armstrong. "Just pack up your things and settle your bill, and we'll start right off, and you may just make up your mind to stay at Bellevue until you are in traveling condition again." "Is Bellevue the name of the place?" asked Frank. "Yes; rather an amusing one, considering that there is no view whatever to be obtained from any part of it. It's a little domain shut in by fir trees, with a Swiss cottage in the centre; and here my venerable aunt presides in solitary state over her menage, consisting of two antique domestics, a dog, a cat, some poultry and a couple of cows. There's an excellent orchard there, however, and old Nanon makes the best cream cheese you ever ate in your life. And not far from the house is a very nice little stream with plenty of fish, where I contrive to furnish myself with sport, and my aunt with a good supply for her table, whenever I am there." "When dowestart?" "The train leaves here at eight, and we fake a diligence at a little village about twenty miles off, and reach Bellevue at half past nine." "Won't that be rather late to arrive there without notice ?" "No, my aunt's bed hour is ten, and she adheres as religiously to it as to the articles of her belief. Just go and get ready directly ; we'll be in plenty of time if you hurry." "You will have to help me then," said Frank, "for I can't hurry with my lame hand." Mr. Armstrong readily agreed to help him, and by dint of their combined exertions, they found themselves in very good time for the eight o'clock train. This bore them at a tolerable rate across the intervening country, to the hamlet where the diligence awaited them; and talking places in this conveyance, they found themselves ere long at their destination. "This is the avenue,'' said young Armstrong as they alighted; "we just have an easy walk up to the house. Take care you don't stumble; it's a little rough here and the night is dark." Carrying their portmanteaus, they walked up the narrow avenue of tall fir trees, and presently reached a low white gate. The dim outlines of a house, with a peaked roof, now became visible, and a friendly light issuing from a front window assured them that some one was still up to receive them. Opening the gate, Armstrong, followed by Frank, approached the front door and knocked. The knock was immediately answered, not as they expected by an elderly lady, but by a young girl, who greeted their appearance with an exclamation of surprise. "It is you, Mr, Armstrong, so late?" "Not later than usual, Mam'selle Claire 1" responded that young gentleman, as he bowed gallantly over her extended hand. "Allow me introduce my friend Mr. Coventry, who has consented, at my earnest request, to spend a few days in this harmonious retreat." Claire bestowed a shy glance upon Frank, curtseying gracefully in response to his saluta;ion. "Walk in, Messieurs," she said, as she opened the parlor door, "and I will see that a suppier is made ready for you." "Has my aunt retired?" asked Armstrong. "Yes; she had a pain in her head, and went early to her room. 1 Probably she may not yet be asleep. Shall I tell her of your arrival." "No, no, certainly not; we won't have her disturbed. We wiil content ourselves with your hospitable ministrations for the evening ; won't we, Coventry ?" "By all means," replied Frank, wondering at the same time who the young lady could be. His companion addressed her with a mixture of familiarity and careless gallantry which led him to imagine that he must be on very intimate terms with her; yet there was something about her style rather of the griaette order, and which made him fancy that her station was not exactly eqqal to their own. "I thought you told me that your aunt lived here alone ?" he remarked inquiringly, when Mademoiselle Claire, leaving them in the cosy little parlor, had hastened off to have a "petit souper" prepared for them. "So she does, usually. I didn't know this girl was here. She comes on a visit, occasionally. She is the old lady's god-child, I believe, or something of that sort" "She seems quite at home here." "Oh ! yes, she always makes herself at home. She's a very nice girl?in her way," said Armstrong, stroking his moustache. "Pretty, too, don't you think ?" "Quite so. Her eyes are particularly fine." "She knows how to use them, too, with killing effect." "I noticed that she gave you some very sweet glances," said Frank. "I hope they haven't done you any damage, Armstrong." "I ? Oh 1 I'm up to her. We are old acquaintances. The truth is," said Armstrong, lowering his tone, and speakrngoonfiderrtially, "she's a?well,- a sort of dependant, you know, but frightfully ambitious, and I have no doubt she expects to marry into the best circles, one of these days. Perhaps she may. She has any amount of tact/V:^ ^ The entrance of the subject ojftheir conversation, directly after,.put a stojftoany further remarks her. Frank watched her curiously, and was amused j^luor little coquettish airs, and the bewitching sidelong glances she launched at both his friend and himgelf. There w^ puqh cati#e grace in her manner, but it was neither unaffected nor Wholly refined. )/'/' [. //'.>>i* lilT "A clever little schemer," he thought, "who doubtless imposes, qn f^e simplicity *)f the old lady, her godmother, and makes use of ber pretty face and her natural tact to win many advantages which she would otherwise not enjoy." An old servant presently appeared at the door and announced that supper was ready; bestowing at the same time a respectful greeting upon Armstrong, and glancing, as Frank thought, rather disapprovingly at Claire, as that damsel tripped lightly before them into the adjacent talon, where a temptiug little repast was prepared. "Do you always have such charming entertainments got up at such short notice, and at such an unseasonable hour as this ?" asked Frank, as they took their seats at a table. "Always, when Claire is here. She doesn't mind taking any trouble for me; do you, Claire?" . "I consider it no trouble ever to serve my friends," softy replied Claire, lowering her handsome eyes. "However," she added demurely, "in this case you must thank Nanon, as it was she who insisted on giving you a proper supper. I would have coaxed you to be contented with brown bread, milk and cheese." ,< "Blessings on Nanon's heart! She knows I prefer fried trout; and her biscuits are, as usual, perfection," saidi Armatrong. "Fall to, Frank; don't be shy. This is real country fare, and mv iournev has given me an appe tite." Frank was also prepared to do justice to Nanon's cooking. His unexpected encounter with his friend and its results, had raised his spirits, and he was willing to profit by so pleasant and interruption to the recent mono* tony of his experience. The meal was enlivened by an interchange of gay remarks between Armstrong and Claire, who both appealed often and sociably enough to him to make him feel quite at home. After supper they played cards, and it was not until twelve o'clock struck, that anybody seemed to consider it time to go to bed. "Mon dieu!" whispered Claire to Armstrong, as she lighted his candle for him, "what will your aunt say when she learns that we have sat up playing euchre until after twelve?" "She needn't know anything about it," was the laughing reply; "but if she does find out, and gives you a scolding, just put the blame on me." . ?The next morning Frank was introduced to the mistress of the house, who gave him as cordial a welcome as he could desire. Madame d' Alenabert was an Englisb-woman, but her long residence abroad bad given her the air and manner of a foreigner. ' Her gesture^ her accents, her vivacious glances, were all' French, and with French: empr&sement she offered her guest the hospitalities of her home. She was very motherly over his injured hand, and insisted' that he should remain at Bellevue as long as any obstacle to his traveling remained. At breakfast, Claire was-tery quiet and demure, speaking very little,: and addressing the old lady with particular respect. i;The latter, however, received her attentions somewhat gravely. As Armstrong was about to leave the room, on the conclusion of the meal, his aunt called him back,: and said rather pointedly? 1 1 "I had forgotten to express my Tegret, James, that I should have unfortunately been: obliged to retire last evening at ian earlier hour than usual, and' thus been preventedfrom receiving your friendand yourself"- ; "Oh! it didn't matter, aunt," said Armstrong. "We were very nicely taken care of; though, of course, we were very sorry that you felt unwell." "That was a trifling matter," replied his aunt, "but it always annoys me td' be out' of the way when any one arrives. I do not' doubt you were hospitably received" (here she glanced at Claire, who Was bending seriously over a piece of embroidery) "but had I been up, I could have satisfied myself that everything was conducted in such a manner as I like." ' ' "We had a first-rate supper," said James. .1 Lii'-L i __ ii "l assure you tnai you nave iiu cause iu nuiry yourself. I'll put old Nanon against any cook in the kingdom for getting up an entertainment on the shortest notice." "Oh ! yes, Nanon knows her duty too well for me to feel any uneasiness where she is concerned," rejoined the old lady. "Well, do not let me detain you, nephew. Take your friend out and show him the attractions of the place, such as they are." "Claire, don't you want to come for a walk ?" asked Armstrong, rather mischievously, while she frowned and shook her head at him without replying. Indeed, Madame did not give her a chance. "Claire will remain with me. I have softiething for her to do," she said, more sharply than Frank had before heard her speak. As the two young men left theoottage, Armstrong began to laugh. "My aunt has heard about the card playing, without a doubt," he said to Frank, "and Claire will have to be particularly proper in her behavior all day, if she wants to get back into Madame's good graces." They spent a pleasant morning by the trout stream, fishing part of the time, but principally lounging on the shady bank and enjoying College reminiscences, until it was the hour for the early dinner, which was always served punctually at one. Meantime, Claire sat in ( the dining-room sewing a tiresome seam, and i listening with Inward weariness, but outward deference, to the sundry exhortations from her I godmother, all bearing reference to the beau-. ty of modest and reserved conduct in young ( women, and the impropriety of suffering un- i due familiarity in the manner and conversa- 1 tion of gentlemen with whom they were brought in contact. "I wish you particularly to remember," said Madame d' Alambert, impressively, "that I quite disapprove of my nephew calling you by your Christian name. You could easily put a stop to it, by telling him that it is iraproper. However, I shall take care to save you the trouble." . ; , [TO BE CONTINUED.] . CHESTER AND LENOIR RAILROAD.' Should the Cape Pear and Yadkin Valley Railroad, referred to in the Observer, yesterday,, be eitended from Greensboro, through Wiriston in Forsyth, and np the Yadkin Valley, through Yadkin and Wilkes counties, it could make an advantageous connection at Patterson,'in Caldwell, with the extension of the Chester and Lenoir Narrow Gauge, at firefcent designated as the Caldwell ana Watauga Railroad. At thesUmetime the 6orry connection could be niade by a branch road through Doheon-to Mount Aftfy, penetrating the centre of the county, and perhaps affording larger facilities to the people of Surry than are contemplated in the Mount Airy and Greensboro scheme. - ' ' The Caldwell and Watauga connection, uniting at (ike Cranberry Iron Works with a road building by that Company from Cranberry to Johnson city, on the East Tennessee, Virginia and Georgia Railroad, is an enterprise yet in embryo, but it is in such hands, and the movement has taken such earnest steps, that it is as certain of accomplishment as the railroad from Chester to Lenoir, the the county seat of Caldwell, which already has fifty miles of its line in operation, that is to say from Chester, South Carolina, to Dallas in Gaston county, and but six of the forty-four mile3 between Dallas and Lenoir at present to grade, and by all reasonable calculations the work will be completed ready for the superstructure by May of this year. The distance then, from Lenoir to the Cranberry Iron Mines, is fifty miles, a gap between the Chester and Lenoir and Cranberry and Johnson City roads that cannot fail to be closed. A close reconnoissance of the route has been made by Chief Engineer C. S. Dwight of the Chester and Lenoir Road, and he reports a feasible and comparatively easy route for the construction of a narrow gauge railroad. He suggests, as the maximum cost of such a road from Lenoir to Cranberry through Cook's Gap by way of Boone, Valle Crucis and along the Watauga Valley, an average not exceeding eight thousand dollars per mile, completed ready for business. There are no tunnels to be made along the route, and the maximum grades will be one hundred and eighty feet to the mile, five feet under a grade duly ascended, without difficulty, on the Milton and Sutberlin Narrow Gauge. The maximum grades on the completed portion of the Chester and Lenoir are one hundred and fifteen feet to the mile, and these the writer ascended on a ten ton engine, of twenty-five horse power, drawing thirty tons offreight, first and second class mail, baggage, and express cars, with scareely a perceptible decrease in the rate of speea, twelve miles an hour. The maximum grade on this road will be one Hhndred and twentyc? .V - ?V- t>i~ live ieet ui me v^uutwua mvei, suk uiucsuuui Hickory, ind the maximum curve ten degrees, with a radius of five hundred and seventvthree feet. Grades of one hundred and eigh- 'v ty feet, on the upper connection, aTe not extraordinary, and two hundred would not present serious obstacles to the successful and profitable operation of narrow gauge roads throughout our mountain#. The projectors of the connection between Lenoir and Cranberry, among whom Senator Council is prominent, have already secured an immediately Available subscription of twentyfive thousand dollars, and they have begun the building of stockades, and making other preparations for the reception of the convict force at present employed on the Chested and Lenoir line,which, it is understood, is to be turned over to them on the completion of the work, and having selected thar Chief Engineer, in the person of Gapt. Dwight, they are ready to begin operations at any moment when the force of convict labor shall become available. Their " connection at Cranberry is assured. The company owning the iron works at that point are constructing a road from Johnson uity, which is at present half completed, and a portion already in operation. A Chattanooga company of iron manufacturers are aiding this enterprise with the rails,.;and they have promised that when the road is graded and ready from Lenoir to Cranberry, they will iron it for first mortgage bonds of the company. It is a reasonable expectation that within the present year the cars will run from Chester to Lenoir, and a good year's work ought to complete the grading from the latter to Cranberry ; so that inside of two years, at most, the narrow gauge connection;should he complete frotn Chester, South Carolina, to Johnson City, Tennessee.,, In this view of the prospect, the Cape Fear and; Yadkin Valley enterprise cannot be too vigorously pushed... There remains thirty-eight miles or grading, to reach Greensboro. From that point to Patterson, in Caldwell, is about one hundred and fifteen miles, but an arrangement is possible, with the North Western North Carolina Railroad, to'tcmnnrnrilv lav n. third rail from GreGM boro to Wirjston, and thereby save about thirty miles of grading, until the connections can to completed, and the company able to concentrate its force on the gap between Greensboro and Salem. A cppn^ctipn with the road from Johnson Gty to Chester would appear to be desirable. It would tap the great universal grass and sjpqk raising, counties, of the extreme northwest, bring rich stores of commerce to our tide, water, open up an outlet through the port of Wilmington for the iron and copper ores of Alleghany, Ashe, Watauga, and Mitchell, and bring the products of the plaster fields of southwest Virginia and the lime beds of northeastern Tennessee to. the agricultural centre of the State; The people qf^prthwesternlforlh Carolina are alive to the importance of railroad connection, and the internal wealth of that section is fully appreciated b^ the people of other States. South Carolina is stretching out her hands toward it on the one band, Virgina and ? ' .% v -vr' ii Tennessee on tbe otner. . liaewater norm Carolina cannot remain an indifferent spectator to the diversion of such wealth, trade and commercial advantages, the magnitude of which no man can begin to forecast.?Raleigh Observer. When you say that boys will be boys, you mean that there is a certain amount of diabolism in human nature which shows itself at a very early yge, without intimating that in later years it wholly vanishes. What a wicked boy that was who slyly put a chestnut burr under the saddle of the parson's horse! Dp to that moment the animal had never played him a single trek ; but all at once he became a very spirited brute and pranced along with a kind of military enthusiasm. For a single moment the parson thought of selling him at a high price to a showy colonel of the army. After'that his attention was; so concentrated on the means of holding on that he had onlytime to wish that he had sold him the day before," and. to the' highest bidder. The little boy stood on the roadside with his thumb in his mouth and tears of sympathy in his eyes, rhe parson thought the boy had a very tender heart, but when he took the saddle uu end ?w the burr, he grasped his riding whip and, looked around, but the boy was gone.