Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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^ ? - ??? ' 1 : ' " ' ' ' ? "" "" ~ i lewis m. grist, proprietor, j iniiepeitbent jfatniig ftetospaper: jfor % promotion of % political, social, ^qricnltnral ani commercial interest* of % sont|. |terms--$2.50A year, IN ADVANCE. vol. 27. yoekville, s. c., thursday, janl7aey 13, 1881. v xo. 2. JU (Nginal |torn. Written for the Yorkville FInquirer. THE LADY OF LINTON. BY WALTER MORGAN. ? ? CHAPTER VIIL "I wonder why Cyril does not write," rather anxiously remarken Mrs. Hope, one morning, when the mail had come in without bringing a letter from her son. Several days had passed without tidings of him, and as it was his usual habit to write at least twice a week, she had begun to feel - troubled at his silence. "Perhaps he has been too busy," rejoined Mary. "Or, perhaps," suggested Leila, whose ' thoughts were rather occupied with love-makiner iust then ; "perhaps he has fallen in love with somebody. You know he has said a good deal about the delightful society where he is." Little Louise said uothiug, but looked wistfully out of the window, trying not to betray her own anxiety in her face. Cyril might have written to her, she thought. She had sent him such a long, loving epistle more than a week ago. Could it be possible that sickness had prevented his writing? Her heart sorely misgave her that such might be the case. Otherwise, he could scarcely have been guilty of such neglect. "When did you write last, mamma ?" asked Mary. "I have written regularly, dear, in spite of not getting answers to my kte letters. My last was sent off evening before last." "Well, I dare say, you will get an answer to that to morrow. Did you tell him we were all wondering at not hearing from him?" "Yes, and begged for an immediate reply, as I was fearinghe might not be well." "If he wasn't well, of course he would get somebody to write for him,'' said Leila. "There's George now, coming through the gate." And putting aside the growing anxie ty about her brother?which, indeed, seeuied to her rather without cause?she went out through the open door to meet her lover, whose smiling and handsome face was sufficient to banish all other images, for the time being, from her mind. "Good news, Leila," said George?whom we may as well introduce by his proper name, as Mr. Chester?the very best news in the world. I have come to tell you all about it." ' Corae in, then, and tell me about it," rejoined his fiancee, answering his beaming fiance with one equally joyous, for she knew y his tone that it must be something very good, indeed. "Mamma and all of them are in the parlor. We are just finishing breakfast, and you roust have a cup of tea." "Can't, darliug ; I haven't time to stop so long. In fact I shouldn't be stopping here at all, for I must be at Mr. Ingoldsby's at ten; but I couldn't pass your door without just looking in for a moment to. let you know what has happened. What do you think of ray having been offered a partnership?" "Really and truly ?" "Really and truly." "Is it a eood offer ?" "A splendid offer; will give me a first-rate income." "Oh George ! how nice! how delightful! When is it to begiu ?" "What, the partnership? 0. we'll go into it pretty soon ; within the next day or two. Ingoldsby's partner, Mr. Hayes, is going to quit business, and travel. He has made lots of money, and is tired of work. So Ingoldsby has beeu looking around for some one else to share the business, and luckily happened to pitch upon me. Think what a start it will give me ! Everything that he can't attend to will fall into my hands, and as the profits will be in proportion to the work, I have no fear for the results, for everybody knows that he has a rushing business. As soon as I'm fairly settled at it, Leila, IM come to you to get something else settled?for now there will be no need to wait any longer, you know!" "Oh ! nonsense," said Leila. But her blush and smile did not gaiusay his words. "So you'll tell mamma, dear, and ask her to see about the shopping, and ?.11 that, pretty soon. Good-bye now. No, I really mustn't coraeiu. Make my excuses to the them all. By the by, when is Cyril coming home?" "I don't know yet; he hasn't said." "He has a tolerably good thing of it where he is. hasn't he?" "Yes, very good. I suppose he doesn't much care how long*Dr. Rexfor J stays away." "It's a good .beginning for him, auyhow ; gets him into practice. Well, good bye in earnest this time. I'll see you this eveniug." Leila went in again feeling very happy; and soon the good tidings which had been imparted to her were made current in the family circle. They all rejoiced with her; but while the mother's lips smiled her sympathy, a sad feeling crept into her heart, for was she not to lose her daughter ? Louise, when breakfast wis over, went quietly off to her own little room to sit down and think. This room of hers,opening into her mother's, was in reality a very large, light closet, intended as a dressing-room. It was only sufficient in extent to contain a little bed, a table aud two chairs. . But it was her sanctum?her place of retreat from the little world around her, when she wanted to read, or write, or muse witiaout interruption. She was too much given to this kind of solitary self-communion for her own good ; but in such a busy household, where each member was continually engrossed, it could not but happeu that she should be left a good deal to herself. .Sitting now in her favorite chair?a little low, willow rocker by the window?her thoughts busied themselves with many things. Principally, Cyril figured in them. She felt such a longing to see him?to have him back again. It was not really so long since they bad parted?only a few weeks; yol the time seemed so very, very long. When would he come? Why didn't he write? If she could only go and be with him, how charming that would be! She thought she would like to go somewhere. Lately she had began to feel cramped and restless in this small city home, where there was so little variety, so little room. It was indeed an unusual thing for her to feel a touch of discontent. Her gentle and yielding spirit had never failed to adapt itself with perfect submission to her surroundings. Seldom had she indulged in any want which it was not in the power of those who loved her to gratify. With this new craving came also a feeling of self reproach, but she could not shake it off. "I cau't tell what has come over me," she sighed to herself. "I never used to feel this way. But it is just as if I weie a prisoner, or a bird shut up in a cage and wanting to fly away. If I could only talk to Cyril, it would do me so much good. I know it would. Stay ! why can't I write to him instead ?" Acting on the inspiration, she sprang up with new energy, got writing materials out of her drawer, and drawing a chair to the table commenced to write. She had hardly got further than "My dearest Cyril," when the door opened and her mother looked in. "Lou, dear, what are you about ?" "Writing to Cyril, mamma." "You ought to be in the garden, my child. The air is very soft and pleasaut. It would refresh you." "Oh, mamma, please let me stay in now. I don't waut to go out just yet. I feel quite well this morning." "You have a nice color," said the anxious mother, with a wistful gaze. "But if you stay in-doors all the time, darling, poring over letters and books, you will get your headaches back again." "Just let me w rite this one letter, please do." "Very well. Only don't let it be too long." With this parting injunction she went away, closing the door after her. Instead of immediately going on with her writing, Louise leant her head upon her hand and fell into her usual fashion of musing. "Mamma is always worrying about my health, "she thought. "I wish I did not cause her so much anxiety. She has cares enough without. Of course, I know I shall never live to be grown up ; at least, it isn't likely that I will. Papa died of consumption, and so did Aunt Mary; and I suppose I have it too. But I may live a good while longer, and I dou't see why any one should think or fret about it. After all, it isn't a bad thing to die young. Only the others would miss me, I kuow. And I would like to see Cyril with a church of his own, and nov-Ko hia Awn Immp bftfnrfi it hannaned. I lUW^i WW mmmsj v??- M^aa*v) ^ " TI 7 I'd like to have a little room in his house, and keep my things there, and have him to talk to me there sometimes, so that afterwards he could associate it with me, and remember me sitting there with him, and always call it 'Lou's room.' It would be pleasant to know that he would always think of me as a part of his home. Yes, I hope I won't die very soon. But perhaps it is wicked in me to wish that. I must be ready whenever God is." She mused a little while longer, then took up her pen and went back to her letter. She had a great gift cf writing. The words flowed from her pen as easily as from her lips, and she never altered a sentence or erased a syllable. Her whole heart was in her present task. It was as though her brother was at her side, and she was poring into his willing ear all that she had to say? Heedless of the lapse of time, and forgetful of her mother's warning, she wrote on, and on, until two sheets were filled. Then, reluctantly, she signed her name at" the bottom of the last page. She would have wished to continue writing for an hour longer?therg still seemed so much to tell him ! She could not refrain from adding a postcript?a brief one, but so full of love. "Dear Cyril, I keep on thinking of you all the time, and I dream of you every night. I love you better than anybody in the whole world, except mamma. Don't forget your little Lou." A sort of weariness came over her, as she finished that last line. An odd, confused feeling in her head, which made her involuntarily put her hand up to her brow, and wonder what was the matter. The next instant everything grew dim around her, the room seemed to swim, before her eyes, and she fainted away. It happened that Mrs. Hope was very busy that morning with some domestic work. Leila had gone to a neighbor's to inquire after a sick child, and Mary, as Usual, was at school. A long time had elapsed before Mrs. Hope, going up stairs to fetch something out of her own chamber, opened the door of Lou's little room, and looked in to see what she was doing. The child sat with her arms crossed on the table and her head resting upon them, and at first her mother thought she was asleep ; but going nearer, the pallor and fixed expression of ihe partially hidden face alarmed her. She took one of the passive hands, and found it limp and cold. "My God! she is dead !" was the first fright" "? fUof Kkahn kor lirvo "Rnf oonn CUCU LI > LlltVL Ui Vl\ti HUIiJ HW1 jl/u u owwu she found that life was not extinct. As she raised the drooping form, tenderly pillowing the fair young head upon her breast, a faint, gasping sigh told that a chance of restoration existed, and .with frantic, trembling haste she set to work, alone and unaided, to bring her child back to consciousness. By degrees a faint tinge of color crept back into her white lips and cheeks, and by and by the soft eyes opened, and fixed themselves wonderingly on her face. "Why, mamma!" she half inarticulately asked, "what is the matter ?" "You fainted, dearest, and I found you lying agaist your little table when I came in," Mrs. Hope was trembling so much, from the ! sudden revulsion of feeling, that she could | scarcely control her voice; but she spoke as steadily as she could, that Louise might not perceive her agitation. "Did I faint? Why, I wonder?" "You had been writing too long, I suppose, and were over-tired. Are you better now ?" "Oh yes; there isn't anything the matter with me." She tried to rise, but fell immediately back on her pillow, growing very white again. Her mother bade her remain quiet, and Lelia. fortunately coming in soon | after, she dispatched her for-a physician who | lived near by. Before he came, Lou fainted i a second time; and though Mrs. Hope sucI ceeded in reviving her in a little while, she j betrayed a degree of weakness so unusual, and ! iu a measure so unaccountable, that the keeni est fears of her attendants were aroused. The doctor gave her some strengthening mixture, and towards evening she seemed a good deal better, and entreated that they would not write to Cyril, n> her mother spoke of doing. "He would just be anxious about me, mamma, and it's not worth while. I shall be i well again by to-morrow, if I get a good sleep I to-night. Please don't write." Mrs. Hope yielded to her request, mentally 1 resolving, if the morning should not find her ! materially better, to write and beg her son to ' return at once. But Lou, after a quiet night, ! really seemed almost as well as usual, though, I in obedience to the doctor's command, she j made no effort to get up. "It seems so lazy to lie here and do noth! ing," she said, but in reality the rest was ! grateful to her. It seemed hard to account | for her sudden attack. The doctor said it j was merely a case of debility, and would only j ! give her a tonic ; but he thought, as soon as I she grew a little stronger, a change would be j the very best thing for her. j "Aud a change she shall have," the mother ; resolved. She determined to write and ask j Cyril whether it were not practicable for Lou ; to go to him for a little while. He might j make arrangements to that effect with Dr. i liexford. She could go as a boarder if necessary. iShe did not delay, but sent ofTher let| ter containing this proposition that-very evening ; and with it she sent Lou's own letter, which had been forgotten, in the confusion, until now. These letters were brought to Cyril just as he was mounting his horse to ride over to Linton Towers, in obedience to a note from Miriam. This note had simply said, "Come I to me at seven o'clock." It wanted a quarter j to seven, and be could not delay his appointI meot. "Put the letters in my room, on the | desk," he said to the servant, without even stopping to see whom they were from ; and | putting spurs to his horse, he galloped off, burning with impatience for the coming interview. Miriam, after several days and nights of vexing and fruitless thought, had at last suddenly arrived at her decision. She would dally with her own heart no longer. Come what might, she would accept the gift which Providence had thrown in her way. And yet?was it a gift of Providence, or a temptation of the Evil One? She could not tell. Such as it was, she would accept it. Perchance a pure and sanctifying love, like this that was offered her, might work the cleansing of past sin, and the saving of her soul. It lacked yet one day of the completion of the week which she had appointed as the time of probation; but having once decided, she wished no farther delay. She must tell Cyril at once of her resolve. So she wrote to bid him come, and then began to prepare for his coming, in a sort of fever of excitement that sent the hot blood in a torrent to her cheeks, and made her heart beat with unnatural rapidity. She opened a trunk which had remained long thrust aside in tho dark recess of a closet; unlocked it, and dragged to light with trembling hands a silk dress, made for her just before her marriage and never once worn. It was colored, but of a sober hue ; with black lace, it would not be too violent a change from the mourning she was about to lay aside. Would it fit her? Yes, she had changed so little in all these years. Her figure was as slight as in her girlish days, and even more spare of flesh. She tried it on, and found that it would fit without difficulty. She chose some pearl ornaments, very simple ones, that matched well with the quiet ashcolor and black. Then a desire for something brighter, more vivid, seized her. Since she bad made a change, why not let it be a complete one? Why should she not appear beautiful in her lover's eyes ? Some fresh flowers stood in a vase on her dressing table. i 1?. f one cnose a Jarge, rare veivei rune, ui giuniug crimson, and fastened it amid the lace ruffles at her throat. The effect was magical. That vivid bit of color transformed her completely. It vied with the crimson in her cheeks, and added to the brilliant fire of her eyes. No longer a marble statue, draped in the symbols of profound woe, she stood a living, palpitating, glowing type of the new and startling phase of existence into which she had entered. CHAPTER IX. As Miriam stood before the mirror, contemplating the brilliant image it reflected, with a strange, reckless feeling of triumph at her heart, the door opened without warning, and Priscilla entered. The old woman's once erect figure was bent, and she supported herself with a thick knotted stick as she hobbled, rather than walked, towards her mistress, who turned hastily to confront her with the secret mixture of repugnance and fear which she always felt at her approach. "What do you want?" she angrily asked, as Pricilla, standing before her, ran her keen black eyes over her, scanning her figure from head to foot with a searching and malignant gaze. "I want to speak with you, my lady." The words were respectful, but her tone was harsh and even threatening, and an inward apprehension of some approaching danger thrilled Miriam's heart. Disguising this dread under a cold and haughty aspect, she rejoined, "You might at least have asked permission to enter my room, or have chosen a more fitting time for intruding yourself upon me." "And what more fitting time could I have chosen ?" shrilly asked the old dame. "When I see disgrace and ruin, and crime hanging over the house whose name and fame used to be untarnished, but now lie under a cloud which seems to grow blacker as years go on, then I think it's surely a fitting time for me to open ray lips and warn you of the abyss you're standing on the brink qf." "I do not know what you mean," replied Miriam, trembling, in spite of herself, at the old woman's menacing look and tone. "No, Lady Hepburn, you don't know all I mean. You don't know all I know, either, or you'd find out that it's true what I'm telling you, that the ground is sliding from beneath your feet. Ask yourself, my Lady of Linton, what paths those feet of yours have trodden in, and where they have brought you to now? Ask yourself whether you carry a clean heart and a clear conscience in your breast, or whether your past life and actions don't rise up before you, and bid you repent, and go mourning in sackcloth and ashes to the end of your days, instead of decking yourself, as I see you decked, in fine clothes and jewels, like the Jezebel of old, who desired to ensnare the innocent and wreak her wicked works on all who came within her reach ? Why do I see you in this shameless guise, and where's the black dress you ought to be wearing for your husband, Sir Roland Hepburn? Do you feel that you have got any right to cast it aside?" So rapidly did she pour forth this address, that her listener found no opportunity to silence or interrupt her. When she ceased, however, half breathless from the excitement and energy with which she had spoken, Lady Hepburn, with an imperious stamp of her foot, exclaimed in her most commanding tone, while indignation, for the moment, conquered her fear? "How dare you use such insolent language to me t Leave ray room instantly, or I shall give orders to have you driven away from this house, and never allowed to set your foot within its doors again." "And is it me you would be driving from my master's house ? Me who was born and raised in the family, and never had a hard word from one of them in their whole blessed lives? No, my lady, you'll never do that. There's not a servant on the place who'd drive old Priscilla away, or keep her from entering these doors.", "We shall see to that," rejoined Miriam, now fairly quivering with passionate resentment. "You will speedily find out that I am mistress here, and that I intend to have my commands obeyed. I have already put up with your iusolence too long." She moved towards the bell as she spoke, and was about to put her hand upon it, when Priscilla swiftly interfered. "Don't ring the bell, my lady. I've come to you to tell you something which must be said, and which you must listen to. You've no choice in the matter. I'm speaking God's truth, and if you stop your ears against it, I tell you you'll run yourself into everlasting perdition ! Do you want to cast your own emit infrt tV>e htnnlmoca nf lioll V" Inexpressibly startled by the extraordinary vehemeuce of the old woman's manner, as well as by the forcible language that she employed, Lady Hepburn stood as if petrified, and was for a moment incapable of answering. Perceiving her advantage, Priscilla j went on, raising her shriveled hand with a i warning gesture, like some solemn emissary of the Fates sent to bear a message of approaching doom. "I take my sacred oath to you before I Heaven, my lady, I'm saying no word but what is full of the weightiest importance to you, and as you value your welfare in this world and the next, you'd better pay due re- j gard to what I say. I've kept my lips sealed this long while?too long, maybe; but it didn't seem as if I was called upon to open them to you so long as things went on in their j usual course. I've watched you?watched you many a time when you never guessed I was near ; and I've sometimes thought from your sad looks and quiet ways that maybe the Spirit of Grace was entering into your heart and working repentance there. God knows I've prayed that it might be so. I've wished you no evil, though you've tried to do evil to me ever since you first knew me, but rather hoped and desired you might turn from the error of your ways, so that a day of peace might once more dawn upon this ill-fated house. But now that I see you casting your mourning aside, and flaunting yourself iu the eyes of the world, and entertaining a lover?aye, a fwer-^with soft looks and words, and promises that you can never fulfill, then I say to myself, I must be silent no ! longer, for the time to apeak has come, and if I refrain the curse of H6aven will light upon me. Lady Hepburt^ wife of Sir Roland Hepburn, you dare not take to yourself another husband." Half fainting with emotion, overcome by a terror which she coulcf not resist, and which ! was all the more overpowering because of j the mystery surrounding the warning sen| tences that fell from Priscilla's lips, Miriam sank into a chair, pressing one hand upon her wildly-beating heart, while she vainly tried to recover her composure, or preserve at least its outward semblance. Her eyes, impelled by a strange fascination, fastened themselves upon the old woman's face. * At last she managed, in a faltering voice, to gasp forth? "I cannot understand by what right you use such expressions to me, or what reason von can assign for assuming anv control over j D~ # O y ray actions. I am at liberty to act according to my own wishes in this and every other respect." "It's true, then?i "Vjou admit that you mean to marry again ?" "I admit nothing/' replied her mistress, with a faint effort to maintain her dignity, though the effort was a futile one, for under the influence of Priacilla's bailisk gaze, every vestige of her self possession seemed to melt away. "Aye, but you don't deny it. You can't deny it!" was Priscilla's triumphant rejoinder. "I've not lived four score years in this world without learning to use my judgment as well as my eyes> and understand what goes on before me. Do you think I've been ignorant of your lover's visit's?the young minister, with his smooth picture-face, and his heart, I'll dare swear, as white and fresh as a boy's? He looks like little more than a boy, God help him! It's an evil chance that set his feet into such a snare as he's fallen into here. Haven't I seen how his eyes feast upon your face, and how he hangs upon your words as if they were jewels falling from your lips? Haven't I watched and listened to you both, when you thought I was a mile pr more away, and seen the destruction coming upon you ? And with the knowledge of all this, shall I hold my tongue and not warn you in time?" "So you have dared so play the spy!" exclaimed Miriam, auger again gaining a momentary victory over her other feelings. "Aye, my lady. I've dared to play the spy, because of the end I have in view. I tell you now, once for all, if you marry that young minister, you'll commit one of the foulest sins that ever blackened a mortal's soul. Sin against God, sin against your husband, sin against your lover, sin against your conscience, your soul, against every law of Heaven that bids you live a just and moral life." "Why do you speak of my husband ?" asked Miriam in an agitated voice. "How can I sin against him by marrying again, when I have been a widow for ten years ?" "And how can you prove yourself a widow, Lady Hepburn ? Did you ever lay eyes on your husband's face after his death, or see him coffiued and buried ? Can you show me his grave, or tell me where he lies?" "You know as well as I do," answered her mistress, speaking rapidly and looking away from her, "that his disappearance was mysterious ; but?what solution can be offered for it, except his sudden death? Has it not been an accepted fact?accepted by the world?by every one who has ever heard anything regarding it? Is it reasonable to believe, after all thsse years, that he cfcn ever be found alive ?" "Yes." answered Priscilla with startling emphasis. "It is reasonable to believe it. I tell you I believe it. I tell you solemnly that I believe if you marry Mr. Cyril Hope you'll be the wife of two husbands, and that your second marriage will be no marriage at all. I believe this, Lady Hepburn, as truly as I believe that I see you standing before me now." "Then," cried Miriam, springing from her chair, and pacing up and down the room in a sort of frenzy, "then, if you believe all this, I've found out the true cause of your conduct. You are mad, for none but a madwoman could cherish such a belief. Roland Hepburn alive! It is false?false as the basest lie that ever was invented. I laugh at your assertions. I scorn and defy your attempts to make me change my course of action. Fool that I have been to listen to you as long as I have done ! You are in your dotage, old woman. Your are not even a 6t mark for my resentment, for you are not responsible for what you say or do." She had cast aside her weakness and her terror now. A fictitious courage had seized her, and blazed in her eyes and on her crimson cheeks. As she finished speaking she stood still, and laughed a discordant and defiant laugh. Old Priscilla gazed upon her. Weirdly, fixedly, she scanned that beautiful face, marred by the fierce conflict of passionate emotions surging within Miriam's breast. "So you call me mad," she slowly said at last, nodding her grey head as if to give emphasis to her words. "So you call me mad ! Lady Hepburn, you do not mean what you say, when you say this. You don't think truly that I am mad." "I believe you are in your dotage, as I said just now. I confess you startled me when first you spoke. I was taken by surprise, and childish- enough to attach some importance to your wild words. But I see ray folly now, and laugh at it, jind at you. Come, old dame, get you gone out of my presence. I am weary of you. It is growing late, and I want to be alone." "Is it weary of me you are? Weary of listening to the truth?the truth which must write itself, sooner or later, upon your sinful hpart.? Ave. Ladv Henburn. write itself ?" *# ?J "? Jt ? i ' there in letters of living flame! You may try in vain to shut your eyes or stop yourears against it. It's still small voice will make itself heard. You can't escape from what it shall tell you ! Listen to its warniugs in time?in time, sinful woman, in time ! For the night is far spent?the night of silence and concealment, and of the covering of your crime. The day is at hand which will show you fully as you are, and hold you up to the condemnation of the world. If you do not shrink from your Maker's wrath, you will shrink at least, when the finger of scorn is pointed at you?when everybody's tongue shall utter your name in derision. Aye, when it will be tacked to the blackest reproach and shame. Yet, even now, it is not too late. The time for repentance is not quite past. Repent, Miriam Hepburn ! murderess of your husband ; on your knees repent!" A cry broke from Miriam's lips at the sound of that terrible word. She tottered, grasping at the wall for support, and put her hand over her eyes as if to shut out some appalling vision that rose up before her. "Go !" she faintly uttered, gathering up all her strength to issue the command. "Go, wicked, false creature! Never let me see your face or listen to your voice again !" "So be it," was Priscilla's laconic reply. She hobbled toward the door, opened it, then turning on the threshold, paused, contemplated for an instant, in silence, the trembling figure and pallid face of Lady Hepburn, as she stood leaning against the opposite wall, then said in a slow, impressive tone, with her warning hand upraised as before? l' "Remember, my lady, I warned you in time! Remember, my lady, your destruction must be on your own head !" "Go," Miriam again found voice to utter. ' And without another word, the old woman departed. Left alone, Lady Hepburn flung herself on a lounge, and buried her face in its rich cushions. Agouizing were the thoughts which swept through her brain. Yet she did not weep. Her eyes, when at length she raised her head, were glittering and tearless, but the fixed and rigid lines of her face told of the dreadful weight upon her heart. "Can it be," she muttered in a hollow tone, "that my secret is indeed discovered at last? Does that miserable crone speak wittingly, or was it only a diabolical impulse which prompted her to utter those words? It is impossible that she should know?should be able to discover .what has been buried in secresy so long! And yet?what if she has known it all this time ? What if she saw?or suspect ed?when it happened?and for some reason refrained from betraying what she knew ? What if I am indeed in her power! But no? the thought is too horrible. It can not be. I will say she is mad. The world will believe her so. She can have no proof. Who would listen to such a tale ? The very fact of her keeping silent so long would prevent any credence being given to it now. I will swear that she is imbecile?a dotard, whose memory and reason are gone. And yet?Great Heaven ! how rationally she talks! But I'll never give her the chance to betray me. I'll have her imprisoned?tied hand aud foot. I'll starve her, until she takes her oath never to breathe one word of this into mortal ear. I'll force her to promise?to swear eternal silence. I'll make her tremble and cringe before me! I'll conquer her?make her acknowledge my power. "But what if it be true that he still lives ? That must be a delusion?a horrible fantasy. It can not be true. Can I?dare I?marry Cyril with this dreadful doubt oppressing me. Shall I drag him, pure and noble as he is, down into the pitfall of my misery and disgrace ?" A ring at the front door bell?footsteps in the hall below! Miriam starts, holds her breath to listen. Yes, it is her lover. He has come in obedience to her summons. And to what has she summoned him ? What must be the result of their interview? Must she revoke her decision, and bid him leave her at once and forever? Yes, it is her only course. He loves her, and for that reason they must part. Ho loves her, and she must not drag him to perd.ition. She will bid him fly?fly from an atmosphere in which he can breathe only dishonor, and forbid him ever to look upon her fair and fatal face again. A servant knocks at her door. My lady, Mr. Hope is down stairs." "Yes,"-she says, "I am coming." With hurried hand she smooths, before the mirror, her disordered hair. Heavens, she thinks, how haggard, how old she looks! She descends the stairs, reaches the parlor door, which stands open, and as she meets his outstretched hands, his glowing, ardent gaze, all her resolution fades away. [to be continued.] jftlisccUiMftitts fUMing. THE HOMESTEAD LAW. The Homestead Act passed at the late session of the General Assembly is as follows : A Bill to determine and perpetuate the Homestead. Be it enacted by the Senate and House of Representatives of the State of South Carolina, now met and sitting in General Assembly, and by the authority of the same: Section 1. That a homestead in lands, whether held in fee or any lesser estate, not to exceed in value one thousand (81,000) dollars, with the yearly products thereof, shall be exempt to the head of every family reai/linrr in tliia fffnfo -frnm Htfor>hmpnf lewv fir ~ ..w? ? > J ? sale, oq any mesne or final process issued from any court upon any judgment obtained upon a'ny right of action arising subsequent to the ratification of the Constitution of the State of South Carolina; and it shall be the duty of the sheriff, or other officer, before selling [against] the real estate of any head of a family resident in this State, to cause a homestead, as above stated, to be set off to said person, in the manner following, to wit: He shall cause three appraisers to be appointed, one to be named by the creditor and one by himself, who shall be discreet and disinterested men, and in nowise related to either party, resident in the County, and who shall be sworn by a trial justice or other officer authorized by law to administer oaths, to impartially appraise and set off, by metes and bounds, a homestead, not to exceed in value one thousand dollars ; and said appraisers shall make return of their action in the premises, under their hands and seals, to the sheriff or pther officer, within thirty days after the said appraisers have been appointed as aforesaid, for record in the office of the clerk of the said court, giving the metes and bounds, as well as the value of the homestead so set off, for which purpose they shall be authorized to call in the aid of a surveyor, if they, or a majority of them, deem it necessary. And if no complaint shall be made by either creditor or debtor within thirty days after the return of the appraisers has been filed, the proceedings in the case shall be final: Provided, That if exception thereto be filed by either creditor or debtor within thirty days after filing tbe re turn of said appraisers, the Court, out of ( which the process issued, may, upon good , cause being siiown, -.order a reapprsisemeni and reassignment of the homestead by other , appraisers appointed by the court: And pro- vided further, That should the creditor or debtor neglect or refuse, after ten days' notice from the officer in whose hands the pro- ( cess is lodged, to nominate an appraiser, then , the said officer shall appoint the same. Sec. 2. That when thirty days shall have elapsed after the filing of the return of said i appraisers, setting off a homestead to any debtor, according to the provisions of Section 1 of this Act, and no exceptions have been filed against such return, or if such return be finally heard and approved, such debtor may , have such return recorded in the office of the register of mesne conveyance of the county in which the same is located ; and upon such re- , turn being so recorded in forty days after the , proceedings have become final, the title to the homestead so set off and assigned shall be for- , ever discharged from all debts of said debtor then existing or thereafter contracted. Sec. 3. That whenever, in the assignments ; of a homestead, as provided in Section 1 of this Act, the appraisers shall find that the premises exceed the value of one thousand i (81,0m)) dollars, and that the same cannot be divided without injury to the remainder, they < shall make and sign, under oath, an appraisal thereof, and deliver the same to the sheriff, who shall, within ten days thereafter, deliver a copy thereof to the head of the family ' claiming the homestead, or to some member i of the family of suitably age to understand the nature thereof, with a notice attached that unless the person so claiming the homestead i shall pay to said sheriff the surplus of the ap- i praised value over and above one thousand i ($1,000) dollars within sixty days thereafter, such premises will be sold, and on failure to pay such surplus in the time limited, the sheriff shall advertise and sell the ^ajd premises, and out df the proceeds of sttch gale shall pay into the office of the clerk of the circuit i t * court one thousand ($1,000) dollars, which shall be applied, under the order of the circuit judge, upon the application of the head of the family, in the purchase of a homestead of that value. The residue in the hands of the sheriff, if any, after paying all expenses incident to the appraisement and sale of the property, shall be applied by him to any executions iu his hands, according to law: Provided, That no sale shall be made unless a greater sum than one thousand (81,000) dollars shall be bid therefor: Provided, further, That if after notice, the party claiming the homestead pays, or causes to be paid, the surplus over one thousand (81,000) dollars, he shall, upon recording the return and receipt of the sheriff for such surplus, endorsed on said return, as provided in Section 2 of this Act, hold the property so appraised and set off, freed and discharged from all the debts and demands then existing against such parties, but as to such surplus not from debts thereafter contracted, like proceedings to the foregoing being in any case allowable for the recovery of all after-contracted debts. Sec. 4. If the husband be dead, the widow ariH children if t.hp fnkhpr ?nd mnt.hftr ho dead, the children living on the homestead, whether any or all such children be minors or not, shall be entitled to have the family homestead exempted in like manner as if the husband or parents were living, and the homestead so exempted shall be subject to partition among all the children of the head of the family in like manner as if no debts existed: Provided, That no partition or sale in that case shall be made until the youngest child becomes of age, unless, upon proof satisfactory to the Court hearing the case, such sale is deemed best for the interest of such minor or minors. Sec. 5. No waiver of the right of homestead, however solemn, made by the head of a family at any time prior to the assignment of the homestead, shall defeat the homestead provided for in this Act. Provided however, That no right of homestead shall exist or be allowed in any property, real or personal, aliened or mortgaged by any person or persons whomsover as against the title or claim of the alienee or mortgagee, or his, her or their heirs or assigns. Sec. 6. The personal property of the head of any family residing in this State to the extent of five hundred dollars shall be exempt from attachment, lefry or sale: Provided, That in case the right of such exemption be disputed by the creditor, the officer in whose hands the process is lodged shall cause the same to be ascertained and appraised, and all exempted property so ascertained and appraised by appraisers appointed and sworn for that purpose and the return of which has been duly made, filed and recorded as provided in Sections 1 and 2 of this Act, shall vest absolutely in the party freed from all debts of the debtors then existing, or thereafter contracted, whether such debtors retain or sell the property: Provided, further that a debtor, being the head of a family as hereinbefore stated, aod not being the owner of any homestead, shall be entitled to a like exemption of personal property, as herein allowed to the owner of a homestead, to be ascertained in the same manner. Sec. 7. That in case any woman having a separate estate shall be married to tie head of a family who has not of his own sufficient property to constitute a homestead, as hereinbefore provided, said married woman shall be entitled to a like exemption, t> be ascertained and set off in the same way, and with the same effect, as provided for tie head of a family: Provided, That there shall not be an allowance of more than ine thousand (81,000) dollars worth of real estate, and not more than live hundred (#oui'J douars' worm of personal property to the husband and wife jointly. Sec. 8. That the exemptions contained in the preceding sections of this Act shpll not extend to an attachment, levy or sale on any mesne or final process tosecure or enforce the payment either of taxes or of obligations contracted for the purchase of saiu noraestead, or for the erection of improvements thereon: Provided, The Court or authority issuing said process shall certify thereon that the same is issued /or some one or more and other of said purpo/es: Provided further, The yearly products of said homestead shall be subject to attachment, levy and sale to secure or enforce the payment of obligations contracted for provisions or other necessary articles purchased, or advances in money or merchandise procured to be used or expended in the prodaction of the same, or of other obligations contracted in the production of the same, end of none other; but the Court issuing ths process therefor shall certify thereon ttat the same is issued for said purpose and no other. Sec. 9. Whenever the head of any family, married woman, widow or children shall be entitled to an estate or right of homestead as hereinbefore provided, and no process has been lodged with any officer against such homestead, the party or parties entitled to such homestead may apply at any time, by petition to the master of said county, or if /.here be no master therein, then and in that event to the clerk of the court for said qounty, to have the same appraised and set off. The master, or if there be no master in said county, the clerk of the court shall thereupon, after giving public notice by advertising the intention of such party or parties to have his or their homesteads set off, once a week for four weeks in a paper published in the county where the ,land lies, and in case no paper is published in the county then by posting the notice on the door of his office, and in three other public places for a like length of time, appoint three disinterested persons, resident in the county, who, having been duly sworn, ffiall proceed to appraise in the manner hereinbefore provided and set off, by metes and bounds, such homestead, and make return to him. If no complaint shall be made by any creditor, or other person interested, against said appraisal and setting off of the homestead within thirty days after the return of the appraisers, the same shall be confirmed by the Circuit Court at the next ensuing term thereof, and shall be recorded as provided for in Section 2 of this Act: Provided, That no appraisement shall be made or return filed until the notice has expired. But if exceptions to such appraisement and return be filed by any person interested therein, within the said period of thirty days after filing the return of said appraisers, the Circuit Court, upon good cause being shown, may order a reappraisement and assignment of the homestead by other appraisers to be appointed by the Court. Personal property, to the extent and of the kind hereinbefore stated, may be exempted and set off in like manner. Sec. 10. That no sheriff, constable, or other officer, whose duty it is to enforce executions, ' shall proceed in any other manner than is pre?bribed in this Act; and should any officer sell any real estate, or sell or remove any personal property, in violation of the provisions of this Act, and of Section 32 of Article ! II of the Constitution of the State of South Carolina, he shall be guilty of a misdemeanor, and on conviction thereof shall, for the first offence, be fined in a sum of not less than five hundred ($500) dollars, nor more than one thousand ($1,000) dollnrs, and, upon conviction, for the second offence, his office 1 shall be deeded vacant; and, in either case, he sbajl be liable in damages, to the parties injured, for all injuries by reason of hie wrpngful levy or sale. Sec. 11. Appraisers appointed to set off the homestead under, this Act shall receive as compensation ror such service two dollars ? each per day, and five cents a mile for every mile of necessary travel. The sheriff shall receive five ($5) dollars for all services incidental/of setting off the homestead, bu t ex' elusive of all necessary disbursements. The trial justice or other officer who qualifies the appraisers shall receive for such service seventy-five cents, and five cents a mile for every mile of necessf ry travel. The surveyor shall receive for his services a sum not exceeding ten ($10) dollars. The foregoing fees shall be paid by the officer executing the process out of the property of the debtor, or, in case of the homestead set off to the widow or minor children, out of the estate of the deceased, by the executor or administrator thereof: Provided, That the officer, before setting off the homestead and exemption, In any case, shall be entitled to demand and receive from the defendant in execution, in advance, a sum of money sufficient to cover the necessary fees and costs therein allowed. Whenever a homestead is set off as provided in Section 9 of this Act, the master or clerk, as the case may be, shall receive as compensation five dollars for all services, including the record of the nroceedings, but excluding the advertising, which shall not exceed five dollars, and which fees and costs shall be 5 J J I J.. 1?. S_? paia, id aavance, ay me pany claiming iuv homestead and exemption. Sec. 12. All Acts and parts of Acts inconsistent with or supplied by this Act, be, and the same are hereby, repealed. THE YORETOWN CENTENNIAL. The sub-committee of the joint Congressional committee on the Yorktown centennial celebration, have agreed upon the following programme of the ceremonies: The guests of the National Government will assemble at Washington October 18,1881, and be reviewed there with the proper ceremonies by a Congressional Committee. The committee will proceed with the invited guests and such officials as may join them, to arrive there on the morning of the 19th. Preparation will be made during the morning for the landing of troops, and the oration and poem will be delivered at 2 o'clock, p. m., with such accompanying services as the committee may determine. These services will consist of brief addresses of welcome by the Governor of Virginia, and others; and, after an original ode, the laying of the corner stone will take place, with an address by the President of the United States, who will be invited to preside on the occasion. The exercises will be interspersed with music by military bunds present, and with artillery salutes. On the 20th there will be a grand parade of all military organizations present on the buttle field and a review by the President of the United States. The military exercises will conclude with a dress parade. A competent army officer will be selected to take command of the parade. It is hoped that a naval review may be had on the 21st in the adjacent waters. The Governors of all the States will be invited to be present with their military staffs and such military organizations as may wish to accompany them, and it is particularly desired that at least the thirteen original States should provide for as imposing a representation as possible, by the presence of their civil officers and military organizations. The committee would suggest, without presuming to give any directions in the matter, that each State provide itself with .^jgc such means of transportation as will afford accommodation while present. at.jhfl bration, and will enable it to take part in any 4&| local services which may take place. The details of the celebration will ne arranged hereafter, and with it a list of invited guests, will be published for general information. At a meeting of the joint Congressional committee on the celebration, the programme of ceremonies prepared fcy the sub-committee, as given above, was adopted. It was also decided to invite Hon. Robt. C. Winthrop, of Massachusetts, to deliver the oration and Jas. B. Hope, of Virginia, the poem. THE REASON WHY. . . Can anybody tell why, when Eve was manufactured from one of Adam's ribs, a hired girl wasn't made at the time to wait on her? W? nnn pnsilv? TforAiiRa Adam never came whining to Eve with a ragged stocking to be darned, a collar string to be sewed on, a glove to be mended, "right away, quick now!" Because he never read the newspaper until the sun got down behind the palm trees; and then stretched himself, yawning out, "Aint supper most ready, my dear?" He made the firo and hung over the tea kettle himself, we'll venture, and pulled the radishes, and peeled the bananas, and did everything else that he ought to! He milked the cow and fed the chickens, and looked after the pigs himself. He never brought home half a dozen to dinner, when Eve hadn't any fresh pomegranates, and the mango season was over! He never stayed out until eleven o'clock to a "ward meeting," hurrahing for the out and out candidate, and then scolding because poor dear Eve was sitting up and crying inside the gates. To be cure he acted rather cowardly about apple-gathering time, but then that don't depreciate his general helpfulness about the garden ! He never played billiards, nor drove fast horses, nor ever choked Eve with a cigar smoke. He never loafed around corner groceries while solitary Eve was rocking little Cain's cradle at home. In short, he didn't think she was specially created for the purpose of waiting on him, and wasn't under the impression that it disgraced a man to lighten his wife's cares a little. That's the reason that Eve did not need a hired girl, and we wish it was the reason that none of her fair descendants did! 1 * -> Hire of Coffins.?Moscow undertakers drive a thriving trade in the repair and hire of coffins. Many of the Muscovites pure-base their coffins during theii lifetime, and keep them at home, where they are used by careful housewives as repositories for groceries and other edible stores. The Russian rat, however, has a sweet tooth, with which he industriously gnaws his way into these grim receptacles of sugars, raisins and spices, doing such damage to them in the course of his forays that they are constantly in need of repair. The "hiring department" of the establishments above alluded to is chiefly supported by widows of merchants and tradesmen, who house the mortal remains of their "dear departed" in cheap deal coffins, but hire for the funeral ceremony magnificent "caskets," richly decorated with velvet and gilding, in which , he plain wooden boxes actually destined for interment are enclosed. At the churchyard gate the accommodating undertaker takes back his splendid shell, which has fulfilled its purpose by conferring distinction upon the relict of its temporary oc-cupant during its transport through the public streets, and the deceased is consigned to the grave inexpensively. *6J- Copperas is the dread of rats. In every crevice or every hole where a rat treads, scatter the grains of copperas, and the result is a stampede of rats and mice. Every spring a coat of yellow wash applied to the cellars is a purifier as well as a rat exterminator. For Boys?If you wet the edees of a * button-hole with your tongue, yo? will not be apt to get red in the face nor be impatient in your language when yon wrestle with a cleaa shirt collar or put oa a fresh pair of cuffs. lUMli i