Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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?????????????????i?????????? ???????????????mmmmmmm??? ?????????mmmmmmm ? mm^ lewis m. grist, Proprietor. | gin Jndfpfndcnt <J<aniils gtepapcr: Joij this fromofioit of lhj| |slitnial Social, glpiprultaral and ^omtnt^ial Jntcrists of % $outh. {TERMS?$2.00 A TEAK IN ADVANCE. VOL. 37 YOEKVILLE, 8. C., WEDNESDAY, FEBRIIAEY 18, 1891. NO. 3. I " " m; 11 _? - ? J "e I ?J ? ? wiAtino* oa in merit thn PART I?CHAPTER IV. DAVID AMD JONATHAN. ,/ M u I "7 remember' our compactEverett answered gravely. The whistle of the down river steamer blew promptly at Standiah landing, wending its snort through every room of Rose Villa, and scarce had the echo come hack from the hills behind when she was again moving cityward. The whistle had been beard by both girls in Bonnie's dainty boudoir above the porch, and it brought her father and annt to the door to greet the visitors. Sincere and cordial welcome they received from both, Miss Tabitha's recent annoyance melting in surprise at their changed appearance. "Why, Dale!" she exclaimed: "if yon --a 11? - ?? 4 ~AQU~I are not retuiy a man auu au uuiucti How you have changed! And yon, too, Adrian! Upon my word, I should not have known either of yonr "Because I also am 'an officer and a gentleman/ Miss Tabitha?" queried the Creole, with a sunny laugh. "Well, I'll promise never to show you 'conduct unworthy' of either again. Fll never be the mauvais snjet I was in Paris." "And 1 will go on his bond for it," Dale added. "But it does seem strange, doeent it? Lieut Latour, First United States cavalry, and Lieut Everett, of the Engineers! "That's right; drop the unnecessary Brevet Second," laughed Adrien, as Miss Tabitha proffered meat and drink and warm welcome. Few contrasts could be imagined stronger than that between these two sew defenders of the flag of the free. Dale Everett's strong, clear cut features were somewhat too pale from cloee confinement at study; bat, spite of that, the nameless something, always felt, but not .to be described, spoke plainly the splinter of Plymouth Rock. A large head, with crisp, fair hair, surmounted a tall, strong limbed frame, wherein the elasticity of the American tempered the latent power of the Englishman. But _ m oc ??<? I'wtli -?htr m ne^ man spoke out, the calm intensity of gaze hinting something behind it which might on occasion, gleam out in powerful, even cruel flash; the thin lips?tender now in their mobile curves?belied the long oval of the jaw if they could not set hard and relentless as steel. Slim, lithe, with a sinuous grace in every movement that told of perfect muscular work, Adrien La tour's bronzed olive skin showed the veins beneath on neck and brow. So varying were the dark eyes as to defy detection of real oolor; the small head, with its black crown of silken hair, never rested still on the firm neck, and the strong brown hands showed sensibility combined with nervous Dower. In the plain uniform of their new rank the two men standing side by side in the bright June sunshine were absolute types of those antipodal strengths of the republic?action and thought. Strong, steadfast and enduring, the Puritan sdon was the man to breast and break down barriers on his life road by sheer endeavor. The nervous impetuosity of the Creole would aim to clear them at a single bound. Thrown and baffled, he would try again, so long as the hot strength did notTburn away of its own fire; but he would never pause to tear down the obstacle, or turn to seek a bypath. Born in bitter struggle, matured by years of laborious trial, the high caste New Englander showed in Dale Everett ?a silent, incarnate strength. Diametric opposite^?triple result of blood, life and climate ? spoke as plainly through every movement of his Creole classmate. Even the pose of the two men told its tale. . Besting carelessly on a chair back, the graceful form quite still and the head courteously bent, Afixiea La tour listened to Miss Tabitha with rather vague intensity. Only the nervous tap of the thin soled boot told that sex, not individual, claimed that endurance he was fast losing. Dale Everett was running over the story of graduation and commission to Mr. Standish, his quiet position and frank talk tempered by not too pronounced respect for the latteris age. But both the black eyes and the blue turned more than once impatiently toward the door, till at last Everett, with his blunt candor, queried so suddenly that the spinster bounced in her Beat; Where in the world is Bennie?" "I suppose," La tour added quickly, Mwe should say 'Miss Standish,' now . that we are 'great, grown up' people." T&ere was a teiegrapnic glance between brother and sister-in-law. His said, quite as plainly as helplessly: "What shall 1 say? How explain the indecent haste?" Hers replied, qnite as plainly and with added sharpness: "Nonsense, Brother 8tandish! See what my tact will accomplish!" Then Miss Tabitha strode across the room, took her brother's arm?adding emphasis by a sharp pinch?and moved toward the door. "Make yourself perfectly at home, Dale," she said, "and you also, Adrian. All will be explained as it is; and, being as it is, such is for the best! Bennie, under these circumstances, cannot explain for herself, and so her natural guardians speak for her." With which oracular utterance and a fresh pinch on the supporting arm, Miss Fay led her brother off, unresisting prey. Both of the young men stared at her departing figure; then both spoke in characteristic style. "MonDieu! Tab is a sphinx!" Latour exclaimed with a low laugh; "but hang me if I shall stake my life on unraveling her riddle! Why, Dale, the old girl is rustier than ever, and hard as her Egyptian sister?" The other answered in his quieter way: "There must be some reason for her embarrassment, though. She can't mean to leave the invaders in possession in this fashion. She'll soon return for another broadside, so here goes to sit down for a siege." And he picked up The Herald and sat in Edith's vacated chair. "Ten to one Bennie is out there," Latour answered, restlessly walking to the window and peering wistfully into the garden. "Anyway, I can smoke a cigar out doors. And. Dale, if I meet her first" He threw away the fusee he had just struck, strode over and looked steadily HD PuRimN By J. <5. DE fEOff. i ithor of "Four Years in Rebel Capitals," "Juny," "Cross Purposes." iEDICATED TO HON. HENRY WATTERSON, Memory of Schoolboy Days, Still Unforgotten, as Our Shaaows Lengthen Toward the Sunset. >yright, iSoo, by J. B. Lippincott Company, aa.d published by arranffcmaut with them. in his friend's face, without completing the sentence. "I remember oar compact," Everett answered, gravely. Rising to his feet, he laid both hands #on La tour's shoulders, as lie added: "It is too fall of meaning to both oar futures for me to forget it one instant today. But, Ad, come what may, we shall both be better Yrien for it." j "Dear old fellow!" cried Adrien, :fmI iMfliveM "But bow much toaster it I would be did we know which one of us it is!" "It may prove neither," the other answered, doubtfully. "Women like her are never lightly won, and neither oi.' us has ever yet spoken" "In words, no," broke in the Creole, "but she must know. Why, all last summer she never cared for other men. i I tell you, Dale, my faith in her is rext to that in our holy church! She never could trifle with us!" "Never, I believe on my soul! But, Ad, if you are right, and it prove to be you, I believe you know I am man enough to say God bless you, with my heart as well as my lips! We will still be?brothers!" Their hands came together iu :&rm clasp, as the Creole echoed the one ' word? "Brothers!" j Without even another look he strode through the window, lighted his cigar, and Dale listened to the quick, firm step that spurned the gravel in its eager quest. Then he threw himself on the | sofa, with a cloud on his face, j "We must soon know," he said aloud, i "And if, as he says, it be one of us, will : | the other have the strength to keep that | pledge? Well"?and the cloud cleared away?"there is no use in borrowing trouble. It finds us soon enough!" He dropped back on the sofa and picked up the paper. The exciting "long session" of that summer was rapidly aligning into strictly sectional factions, and the thoughtful young soldier began to brieve that so much of such talk must at last end in action. To him the telegrams meant that or nothing. The little I French clock on the mantel uczea witn j ' remorseless monotone. The balm;* air was gently soporific; the distant hum of the Hudson fell drowsily upon his ear; a stray bee in the cornice buzzed him into that halt way stage from which the lit- j tie clock relentlessly ticked him into | sleep. I PART I?CHAPTER V. BOUND IN HONOR. i "Remember! I tnastcd to your honor!" j Beanie had heard the steps upo a the < gravel, too; and the stillness below as- j sored her both men had left the house. j She ran lightly down the steps, and crossed the parlor. Camp habit supreme, Dale Everett sat bolt upright, with his dream still in ' midaction, ere he opened his eyes. "Dale!" "Bennie!" He had sprung from the sofa and taken both her hands, and was gazing intently on the downcast lids. She raised them slowly, looking at him 1 earnestly, but without a blush open her ; pale face. "Dale, have they told you?' "Who? Told what?" Twenty-four is apt to be abrupt, 1 rather than logical. And as she dxd not 1 answer he hurried on: "But I have something to tell you, Bennie, and it must be told now. How I have refrained so long I cannot \inderderstand. It is always with me; I was dreaming of it now." He glanced quickly round, fearful that they might be interrupted, more fearful that his courage would desert him if ho did not finish then. "Bennie, ever since we were chil- j dren you must have seen?in all these late years you must have felt?what vou are to me!" The girl turned her face aside and half raised her hands to stay him, but the j strong clasp of his own upon them held her still, and the eager light of his eyes burned down on her drooped lids as he went on, never pausing: "You must hear me out! Only Adrien knows my secret now. God knows it is the only one I ever kept long from my tent mate. But if I do not speak now it may be too lute. Bennie, dear, I am no i longer a boy. Today I am free to act S for myself?free to tell you?I love you!" With a quick gesture she freed her i hands, turning farther away from him. A little shiver passed through her, but the man heeded nothing but his own eager pleading. "Since boyhood I have loved you, my darling! You have grown into my heart, | have become part of my being. Love : for you has been my stay and my hope. | All my study, all my ambition has been to make me free?and worthy?to say, as I do now from my very soul, I love you!" Again the shiver ran through the girl's blood; again the man, wrapped in the glow of his own passion, heeded it not. "Only my God and Adrien knew this. Now that you know it, will you ; | speak to me?" For the first time she raised her face to his; a suffering, hunted look in the I blue eyes. Then, with a dull sob, she j dropped into a chair and the shudder | shook her in its strong grasp. Bending ! over her, Dale Everett, his face full of tenderness, his voice husky with sus1 pense, whispered: "Bennie, what does this mean? You i do not?oh, darling! you do not despise me?" The girl slowly raised to his a face far ' different from the bright one he loved so well. Intense feeling trembled on the I lips, the eyes brimmed with tears and the voice faltered that began: "Dale, we are old, old friends" Mistaking cither the emotion or the words, the young soldier hesitated one second; the next his 6trong arms held her close and his lips pressed her forehead. "My darling! My own Bennie at last! This pays for all?for doubt?delay" "Let me go, Dale!" she sobbed, strug; gling. "You must not! You have no right" i f He recoiled as if struck heavily. She stood still and trembling, with downcast eyes. "Was I mistaken?" he asked huskily. She only bowed her head lower still. "Speak," he said, more calmly. "Do : not be afraid to say what I am not afraid to hear." But the voice beliedthe brave words it framed, and he clinched his hands hard while Bennie twice essayed to speak. Then she said almost inaudi- I bly: "I am to be married!" "Married!" Only one word in a low cry. She covered her face with locked hands, and tnrned away with the low ' sob: "Today!" For some moments Dale Everett stood j dazed. Gradually over his face came | the awakening to her true meaning. A j deep, gasping breath rent his chest Then he passed his hand over his eyes, but when he spoke it was almost his j ! natural voice that asked: "And you love the man?" ! "No." Bennie obeyed the strong will I like a little child. "Wiio is he?" I "Mr. Mason, papa's friend." "And you know that he is buying you, i as he would a horse, or a dog?" The woman's voice was scarce audi- j ble, but her head sunk lower still. j "What matter?" The man's fac^did notchange. There ! was no frembr, but infinite contempt,in j his nest words: "No; you have no heart." Then for the first time Bennie raised i her bowed head. Whether the words j touched or the tone stung her she her- ! self hardly knew, but she looked in Dale | Everett's face with a glance as firm as his own, while infinitely gentle. ; '"'Dale," she said softly, "you will for- 1 get this disappointment; time will cure 1 it for you; but for me there is no time, no cure! Your words hurt me more than ; j you dream. Please unsay them before , we part for?for the sake of the old days. I i Oh, Dale, if you knew all you would ; not hate?you would pity me!" He was still relentless. "You have no need for pity; you have no heart! I , only spoke the truth." Then she turned to him, resolve on ( I the pale features, but she said gently: "Until today I doubted whether I had 1 j a heart But when 1 looked this awful i marriage in the face an hour ago?oh, Dale! to my bitter anguish I found that I had, and without my knowledge it had gone out wholly, utterly to another, and that other not my plighted husband!" ! Even through the suffering in the girl's voice there was defiant resolve to j bear it all now. "Who is ?that other?" The strong i man trembled?half in hope, half in doubt?as he whispered the question, : stretching eager hands, as if to clutch | the answer. The girl turned her face j aside once more, but the low voice was 1 very tender and -without one tremor as it formed the two words, "Adrien Latour!" For a single instant the color fell out : of Dale Everett's face, leaving it ashen j dull. Then the old blood that had flowed on Roundhead battlefield and warmed stiffening limbs on the Mayflower's deck rose to his cheeks again, burning there in scarlet disks. For one instant he was silent. When he spoke there was strange sweetness in the voice that pleaded for another's happiness; no trace of the bitter strife with his own heart, from which was born this grand self sacrifice. "Bennie, you spoke truly when you said we are old friends." He did not touch her hand now, bnt drew nearer the bowed form of the woman he loved, bending over her with infinite pity. "By that friendship and for the sake of another almost as old, but oh, how different, I implore you to forego this sinful purpose! Think of the sin against t tnr v?Kt man, u^uiuol Stu."?wi-JoWt' * r you have confessed, more than all, against your own soul! Ah, Bennie, misguided child as you are, your own purity, as my judgment, must warn you that she who weds without love is no wife to the man she betrays! She is only his mistress!" The girl recoiled, as he had struck her with the hand that touched so tenderly - the golden hair in benison. But he went "When I said I loved you, it needed no oath to prove my truth. But the name you whispered binds me in honor to the friend who trusts me wholly and who also?loves you!" Quickly the girl raised to his tear dim- | med eyes, now full of wondering doubt Twice her lips moved as if in speech, but no sound came from them. "Yes, it is God's truth," the man went ! on, in his grand loyalty. "I told you we j had a pact; the first who met you when i we were free was to speak. For, with : all the fervor of his southern blood, j Adrien loves you, too!" With a low, pitiful cry, Bennie held nnt har- V?nndc Mirorlv a primsnn flood i swept brow and cheek. Then the face i grew deadly white, the hands fell nerve- ' less, and with bowed head she stood ' mute, as if for sentence. "Hear me, Bennie!" the man pleaded. ! "If you spoke truly, Adrien Latour must , be the husband of your heart, spite of , your mockery of God's law with this old I man!" With head bowed lower, in voice like a distant moan, she answered: "How truly I Bpoke God knows, who 1 punishes me so!" "Then I will go for Adrien!" Dale I spoke in eager vibrance now, no longer ! doubtfully. "Months ago, when each learned the other's love, we made our I compact. I have spoken, and can bear j my sentence. Oh, Bennie, do not make I it your own also! Let me tell Adrien I stand aside, that he may have his own!" ! What changes of hope, doubt and j despair filled the stricken girl's heart as I Dale spoke, only the Searcher of all can know. Over her pale face swept all in i succession, setting into a stony cast of the drawn features as the man turned to j carry out his loyal purpose. Then with i quick, imperious gesture she stopped him, speaking with hard bitterness that seemed to sting herself with every word: "Stop, Dale Everett! What is shall be! Am I a shuttlecock to be bandied j between you, left to the chance of who spoke first? You say I sell myself? But I refuse to be raffled by men who are ! willing that first come shall bo first served! You shall not go for him!" The little hands tightly clinched over Up Jiontrmn. Imc/nri- fho kHtii frwtfr. nvPQKfwl hard upon the floor; all the light in the girl's blue eyes was of insulted pride. "Let me go!" Dale urged. "Do not risk the ruin of three lives by your blind pride. Bennie, think, before it is too late!" "It is too late!" she auswercd, hopelessly as bitterly; the hands pressed harder on her heart, but the head defiantly erect. "What is done cannot be undone save by God's will, and he knows I have not deserved all you say!" She turned away, paused and raised her hand, half in warning, half in menace. "I confided in your honor, only to lessen a blow to you," she said coldly. "Now I forbid you to breathe?so long as we both shall live?one word of what has passed!" On the very threshold she turned again, red disks glowing in her cheeks. ' her eyes full on the wondering ones of her lover. But dead white lips formed 1 the words: "Remember! I trusted to your honor!" PART I?CHAPTER VI. VIVIEN. Dale Everett stood where she left him, thought bound. The little Freuch clock ticked the endless message of time, the Nemesis, but the throbbing of his own heart and the echo of the girl's challenge were the only sounds he heard. Far less nipt he might well have missed the softest rustle of skirts, the lightest sound of French slippers on the porch, as Edith Van der Huysen stepped from it to the grass plot and passod rapidly into the shrubbery. Yet had Dale that moment seen her face lie might have thought a specter had crossed the path before her, not that chance had brought her from her Edith stood suddenly before him. room for a quiet stroll among the roses; ! for its glowing olive was ashen dull, and the hinted vein? beneath now stood ; out strong*on throat and temple. The red lips closed in straight and cruel line that sent the blood all out of them, and the brbwn eyes gleamed black as nighmwith evil, dangerous light But with firm stop and figure erect ; the woman walked away, and the blood < brought the olive to her face once more as the lips curled into a bitter smile and finally parted laughing as she said aloud: "Edith Van der Huysen, can you really be a fool? Your place is in court, not camp. And surely you are old enough to give up playthings. If not, ; my lord is toy enough." And again the low laugh came, with a tinge of humor in it; the eyes grew lighter, and the tall form fell into its ! sinuous grace, as the gravel crunched i and Adrien Latour came swiftly up the J walk. " Parting the shrubbery Edith stood suddenly before him, a glowing picture ! in the great Gainsborough liat, with her ; old smile on her lips. "Welcome, Sir Laggard!" she said ex- j tending her ungloved hand. "As you , could never be 'a dastard in war,' you are yet in time." "And as you can never bo less a rid- j die, you read one again," the Creole answered, ouly half hiding a look of dis- | appointment as he took the hand she of- j fered. "Will you explain this one, or is ! it shnt in your book?' Edith following his glance realized ! for the first time that she had seized a j book as she hastily l?ft her room. It j chanced to be Bennie's Tennyson; and ; her smile grew deeper as her eyes darkened once more. "Si non e vero e ben trovato," she an- | swered laughing, holding the title before his eyes. "We used to talk of this ; in West Point days, Mr. Latour; and ' Merlin 6till works his marvels for Launcelot as well as for Arthur." "You are incomprehensible," he answered, as he turned to walk with her. I "I never did understand you, though." "Not altogether," she retorted, de- ; murely, not meeting his eye. "But you | don't understand Old Merlin either. He | is still at work, even if he does not take j Vivien into his secret this time. How if he should make a charm of golden philtre and diamond drops to change Elaine into Guinevere, even to the sore discomfiture of Launcelot and to the undoing of ; the Pure King, at once?' ' "Your riddle is still unread," the man answered, restlessly. "I do not understand you, Miss Edith." "So you just told me," she laughed | bank. "For in(tlie legend Elaine cared i nnftiag f-ov tho ditnttouJa ?f tiro Last Tournament; and even Guinevere hurled them in contempt before the bier i of the dead Purity." "Miss Edith, you certainly mean something" Latour began, but she finish- j ed for him: "What society girl's nonsense ever , means anything? Poetry is only in books nowadays, and love philtres are 1 all dried up?even if diamonds still be 1 prizes to win! But 1 must not detain j you today, of all days. You are looked for at the house; 60, au revoir!" "Not until you explain," he answered, chafing under her badinage. "What?" She looked wonderingly into his eyes, her own seeming as dark. "Would Launcelot have dallied for silly ; lecrends and left the lists vacant, while i the diamonds still hang as the prize? j Then who would have ridden for I Elaine?when she was changed to ' Guinevere?" "Do you mean Bennie?" the youug \ lieutenant blurted out, with true cadet ! bluntness. "Ask herself, who never weaves rid- j dies and who is not run away with by ; legends." And Miss Van der Huysen | laughed innocently, her bright face glowing in strange contrast to.ita mask, i so lately put off. "But yon did mean her once, when j you spoke of Elaine," he insisted, awk- i wardly. "And if I be Launcelot " j "Then can you never be Trist- i ram," she finished for him, with another j little laugh. "But you must go, else Aunt Tab will be scolding us both; so. . au revoirl" "And you will not :xplain?" "Nothing explains nothing," she answered, lightly. "Why, were 1 crafty ! as Vivien, there be strange secrets still beyond 'the spell of woven paces and of waving hands.' And besides" ? she paused an instant, looking at him with innocent eyes?"even Vivien never spake word to lower the Lily Maid before the godlike king?or Launcelot!" And with a pretty but decided gesture Miss Van der tluysen tumea away, ana the Creole, with puzzled face, moved rapidly toward the house once more. "Vivien!" repeated the woman aloud. Her face was turned toward the distant mountains, which she did not see, for again the darker glow crept into the brown eyes. "Vivien! What, after all. was she? A woman!" But when Edith Van der Huysen entered Bennie's room u few moments later and remarked casually that she had been for a little turn in the garden she had the 6aino quiet smile in those eyes with which she had left it. Not so the bride to be. Her cheeks were hot and flushed, her eyelids heavy with recent weeping. The pride and womanhood, the underrated strength of the sex which makes them martyrs if need be, break down all the more helplessly after strongest occasion for their exercise. On leaving Dale Everett the girl ran to her room, locked the door and threw herse.f prone upon the sofa, the fair round arms clasping the hard, gold embroidered cushion against her face. Forgetting the flight of time, the ceremony to com?, sho abandoaed herself to a gush of grief, remorse and self contempt that shook her as a stroug ague. But ycuthis elastic, and few griefs kill. Gradually the sobs came less frequently, then ceased, and the girl lay quite motionless a while. What thoughts crowded one another out of place in her mind, in all those unnoted minutes, she herself could not have told. But at last she rose listlessly, pushed the damp hair away from her face in a weary, dazed manner, and showing strangely little on the pale but quiet features of tho mental storm that had passed over her. Turning to her dainty dressing table, she rested her chin upon her hands and looked steadily at her reflected face as if to question whatever resolve the struggle had brought forth. Then she quietly opened her writing desk and took from a drawer two photographs, a note dusty with dried flowers, a much monogramed class card, and the inevitable button and loop of blue ribbon, ever trophied with the victims and the victors aliko of the summer tilts "around Flirtation." Listlessly turning them over, a faded rosebud fell from an envelope, . breaking from tho stem and scattering dead leaves and dust upon the desk. A strange smile twisted tho girl's lips as she slowly picked them up, dropping them one by one back into the envelope. "I hu.ve made my own fate," she said aloud, as if to the superscription in Adrien'a bold, free hand. "Having made fit, 1 will meet it like as true a woman, as I may. lb a few hoars I shall be a wife. These are the toys of childhood; they ore mine no more. Only u future is mine?no past Among them they have killed thatl" Still moving quietly, with no cloud on her face, without even a sigh, Bennie Standish piled the ]*pers and the flowers in the empty heart^ touched a match to them, and calmly watched while they curled into gray nah, blackening as it cooled. * Then she turned to the desk again, chose a tiny sheet of, paper, and wrote? almost automatically?these words; God pardom our sin*. Surely be forgives our error* Be will pity the child, forced Into' a roar ri&go without love; will right the wrong thus dono others?and herself 1 On your honor, remember 1 Adricn roust never know tbo love for nun max rorces men i?w worus uyer ui uu mj^ucu Bsmmu Stasdish. Folding the sheet several times she slipped it in the smallest envelope and sealed it with steady fionrs. Then, still holding ttJnjfitrJgjH'ii' ihe ine? by tpe bedside and b:>WSd" hor head in silent prayer. Long she lcnelt; and the son, passing westward oil his way to night, looked into the window near and sent his golden ligh t around the golden hair, like a halo. When Bonnie Standish rose from her knees only the red rimmed eyelids told of the storm jMissed by. Paler than its wont, her face was qoiet, even gentle. Not oue tremor showed in the hands that quietly took out the simple, tasteful traveling draa and dainty bonnet and laid them on the bed, ready for the bridal toilet. This she began by dropping the masses of shining hair about her shoulders and passing again to the mirror. Pushing the hair back from her temples with both hands, the girl looked steadily once more into her reflected eyes. It was a long, searching look, but the eyes she gazed into never shunned it; and at last?with a deep breath, that was not a sigh?stie said to the reflected self; "Nol I have not sinned! God grant I have not erred too deeply! This is the end of the child: may he guide the woman!" Hearing Edith's step as she spoke these words, 1 Jennie turned quietly and unlocked the always open door. The other girl paused as she entered, and looked at her strangely. "Why, Bennie dear, what is the matter? You seelu really woebegone. These are not the loaks for u bride electt You bring back wicked old John Suckling's song: Why bo and pale, younj; lover Pritbee, why so pale? Will, when looking well can'.; move hee Looking ill prevail? Pritbee, why so pale? "Do not jest, Edith," Bennie answered gravely. "It is no trifling step I amabout to take. Can you wonder that the responsibility weighs on me? It is grave?awful!" "But you never so looked at it before," Mirh Van der Huysen answered quiotly. "And you surely have had time to think of all this." "I was never so near it then," Bennie answered gravely, but still calmly. "It never seemed, so real before." . "Scarcely flattering to the groom to be," Edith retorted with a dry little laugh. "But then he will never know, dear; so go on with your dressing like a good child. Before I begin my own war paint, can I do anything?" 'Ulttrflnfll Oh, j-pir Yq3 Aft** gfiro" Bennie pat her hand to her bosom, tonched tho note hidden there, and stopped suddenly, looking straight into Miss Van der Huysen's quiet brown eyes with trusting bine ones. "Edith, I believe you love me?no, don't interrupt met I know yon do. And I trust yon implicitly. I believe you can trust me without a word of explanation. Here! When we are gone?not before, remember; but after wo leave Rose villa tonight?give this to Dale Everett. Give it when no one is by to see. Don't ask me anything, please! It is a simple little note; only a word of farewell, and a little request" Edith Van der Huysen's eyes darkened, but the voice was sweetly low that answered: "Certainly, dear; Dale shall have it, as yon ask. And why should I ask any questions? But have you nothing to give?no word even?for Adrien?" "Nothing," Bennie answered simply. Edith took the little envelope, but never moved her quiet, darkened eyes from Bennie's face as the latter crossed to the belL "I'll ring for Marie to dress me now; it is really late," she said listlessly, Bhow ing none of that excitement presumed by the inexpert to belong to preparations on the feminine side for the great event of life. "Can I do nothing more?" Edith asked, still linj;eriug. "Ther. I, too, must go and prepare for the?sacrifice!" The word fell slowly from her lips; but, if meant for a cue, Bennie did not pick it up. She ouly said gently: "I did no:i call it that, dear. Now kiss me and go dress," Miss Van der Huyseu kissed her friend on the cheek?one of those feminine kisses that n>.y mean a whole world of affection yet would differ nothing in outward show did it carry poison to the lips of an inconvenient rival. Then she crossed the hall to her own apartment, holding the little letter in her hand. But as she went she turned it over nervously, as though it were hot and burned her fingers. In her own room she, too, turned the rarely used key, threw herself into an armchair and leaned back with half closed eyes; but through the lashes gleamed the dark light of busy thought Twice she raised the little envelope, staring hard at-it then, us if she had settled her poiut, tossed it on the bed and went methodically about her toilet. Half undressed she paused abruptly and again took up the note, turning it over in her hands; the glory of her splendid hair rippling far down the gleaming satin of bare, sleek shoulders and slim, rounded arms, model for a Venus, framing the rich face, through whoso flushed olive burned eyes of fiery blackness. "Dale Everett!" 6he said in a hard, bitter voice the vrorld never heard. "Poor child! she'd have mo think 'tis he! I was never so near such a mistake before. But, if she spoke truth to Dale, why should, her last words be to him? But now I know 'the charm of woven paces and of waving hands!' What is the worth of knowing, though?" She stood erect, the light, soft drapery emphasizing her perfection of curve and dark feature. With eyes gleaming into Bpaco sho raised her hand in menacing gesture, defiant, uncanny, 6Uggestivo of a Pythoness in poso and in regard. As she stood thus wheels ground the gravel on the drive below; a carriage rolled to the door and stopped. With a start Edith came back to herself and to1 the present. She shot a quick glance through the blinds just as a dignified, well proserved man alighted and turned to assist a stylish girl and tho venerablo bishop of tho diocese. Edith's red lips parted in a Btrange 1 ^?wnn/l /mw?o tvinrfl In Viar lllUgll iU3 OllU lUiiltu vutw 1UUIV vw 41VA toilet "The Minotaur is ready," she said. 'And the Sacrifice? Her last word?her last thought?is for another. ' 'Tis well to be off with the old love!' Bah! and she thinks to blind me!" Again the low laugh came, unmerry, threatening. "When Vivien had gained the charm she cried, 'Oh, fool!' and all the forest echoed, 'Pool!'? And now to dress!" PART I?CHAPTER VIL 'SOME AT THE BRIDAL; SOME AT" Dale Everett sat in the empty parlor, his eyes fixed vacantly on the distant foot hills. He did not even think, so ; || i Touched his lips to her forehead. ' stunning was the sadden revelation to him of this girl he had loved so well. Neither did he hear Latours quick step. ! upon the turf; but he scanty started, at : the hand on his shoulder aill the cheery j voioa at his eqr: S ^ "Deuced strange," Bale, but I haven't I ?Eh:! you have seen her!" ! Lalour finished abruptly as the other raised his eyes. Something in them spokei more than words, as Dale rose to his feet; for the men stood with clasped hands, silent, while the little clock ticked tediously through many seconds. The Oeole spoke first "You will believe me, dear old boy," : he said, "when I tell you I am sorry for this. You are a better man than I am, Dole;, and she might have been happier with you. But if she won't have the 1 worthy fellow she may the worthless: so my turn corneal" There was not one taint of selfishness 1 in the sorrow that spoke through Dale Everett's eyes. How could he break the news he had to tell??news his friend would receive so differently from him. ! But it must bo; so he said, very gravely: "Neither of us has his turn, old friend. You nor I can ever speak of love to Benj nie Standish." "TVbat do you mean?" cried Latour. ) "Dicl she tell you she would not marry me?" "She did not But?be a man and Dear tne oiow, as i tuu?sue mumra ! Beverly Mason this very dayl" j Tlie Creole staggered back, as if his | friend had struck him. Then he strode to. the window. When he turned he | Baid hoarsely: '?iVho told you? It is some lie!" J "It iB the truth," Dale answered firm: ly. "She told me with her own lips." Again Latour turned quickly to the | window, without word of reply} but hia j friend saw the hand that rested against : the frame close on it with such grip ! thai; the nails grew white. Equally bitter, perhaps, was the strug: gle in the hearts of both men. Adrien's sensitive nature was perhaps more shocked by its suddenness, but indomitable pride and stubborn will strove to hide it even from his friend. Dale j Everett was torn by doubt whether to ! disregard the woman's injunction, violate hia own implied pledge and betray her secret He knew Adrien so thoroughly that he was sure a hint of the truth would send him to her, to make one effort for the happiness of both, were i she at the steps of the altar. Twice his j lipfi formed the words that would have : forced the girl at least to pause before j her awfnl nten was taVen fnr life, and [ twice the words were pushed back into ; his throat by the echo of her voice reI pes.ting: Remember, 1 trusted to your honor!" i Adrien Latour turned abruptly from j the window, strode to his friend and j placed a hand heavily upon his shoulder, j The dark face had grown darker, and j the voice was cold and cruel; yet he i turned aside his head as he said: ' So! She sells herself as I would not ! sell, one of my slaves! A woman like j this has no heart?no self respect! Here j is my hand on it; from this hour we dej spise her!" But Dalo drew back. The stern manhood in him would not do injustice even to the woman whoso act he condemned I so bitterly. j "Wait!" he said gravely. "We cannot always read the working of human i hearts. Remember tho divine injuncI lion,' J ndge not, that ye bo not judged!'" Even as he spoke Miss Tabitha's note | was heard in the hall, as she returned tQ ! the charge. She entered the room with j a Hurry of words, plunged at once into ! many and complex explanations, and, ! with much show of mystery, told the : secret that was none to them, and as: signed their places at the coming ceremonial. The painful absurdity of the situation ; was broken by the groom's arrival and ; the introductions to his party. Mr. i Mason proved to be a dignified and courtly man of the world, wearing his j half century lightly, but adopting none i of the nonsense of the old beau. His manner in the trying ordeal was quite ! perfect?self contained and deferential i to the spinster, frank and cordial to both young men. The latter bore the meeting each in ' his own way, for if there be truth in wine I the stimulant of suffering also brings i from its hidden places the reality of our i nature. Adrien passed through the inti-odnction with such ceremonious courtesy that only his inborn grace saved it from being the reverse. Dale let his clear gray eyes rest full on Mr. Mason's ! face, as though studying tho man be' neath it, while ho shook his hand frankj ly and said: I "I offer you no congratulations, sir. j In presence of a joy so supreme as yours i must be mere words would seem either flat or intrusive, but i navo Known ner ever since we were children, and God | has not made many like her!" ! Adrien lieard the words with darkenI iag face, and broke off abruptly thecomj nonplaces he was trying to say to Miss I IiOriL But Miss Van der Huysen's entrance apropos was a great relief, in an I interval always awkward on such occasions?peculiarly so on this one. She i was perfectly dressed and looked as i fresh uud girl like as though her toilet j ?.lone had occupied her thoughts for j 1 lours, and, hastening to greet the new, coiners, she still caught Everett's words imd Hipir pffwt nnnn bis friend. With manner brightly gracious, 1 hough perfectly quiet, she greeted the groom. He detained her a moment to clasp a rich bracelet around the slim wrist, with the words: "Few men find truer friends than you have been to me, Miss Edith, and you remember it was in your house 1 first ' met my fate. She loves you, too, better than all other women. Wear this triflo in memory of the day that makes your two friends one, but with doubled love for you." Mr. Mason bent his head and touched his lips to her forehead, with a stately grace that few of the gilded youth of the later civilization may imitate. And tho girl raised to his quiet eyes, with never a quiver of lash, and she let her hand rest in his as she sj>oko easily, but 60 low that only ho caught the words: "And I have a little thing for you?a witch charm to frighten away evil. Promise me that, being a man, you will control curiosity and never open it until one year from this hour." She withdrew her slim, firm hand, . leaving in his a tiny package tied with with white ribbon and securely sealed. "You pledge me your knightly word?" f she asked, and as he bent his head in acquiescence Edith turned away with quiet face and crossed the room to where Adrien Latour leaned moodily against i the manteL "Does Sir Launcelot of the Lake see visions?" she said in her low, fruity voice. Her eyes were bent upon the tangle in her sash, but had tho Creole's met them tie might have thniiea trom tneir strange glow over such simple occupation. "Does he read the future in yonder red sunset? Or is the present strange enough to satisfy him with Merlin's wizard work?" "Can you never speak seriously to me?" the man returned gloomily. "And what have I to do with Lpuncelot?" "Nothing, mayhap," the girl answered low, but in musical distinctness, yet not raising her eyes from the sash. "Had Arthur never wed Guinevere?had he let hoary Merlin win her with a golden charm?then had there come no sin to Camelot! But, heigh-ho! how strangely mixed the legend grows; for now 'tis Elaine weds Merlin, and she still loves"? she paused an instant; a quick flash of her eyes glowed into his with evil fire? "not Launcelot, who rides away, but? Godlike Arthur!" ' Impetuously starting nearer the man whispered: "In* God's name what do yon mean?* The eyes Miss Van der Hnysen next raised to his were brown and bright; a merry smile played round her lips as she said saucily: A "I was only 'talking society,' Mr. Lait our, and a long year ago I told yon that unever meant anything!" She turned away in her graceful, uous fashion. Adrien half stretched out his hand to detain her, just as the bride, qniet and gentle, entered the room, leaning on her father's arm. She stopped close by Dale Everett before she raised her head. Their eyes met She held out her hand timidly, saying very low and gently: "We are old friends, Dale." He hesitated not a second, bnt bent down over the golden head and touched his lips to her brow. But only she heard the whisper: "God forgive you, as I do!?cherish you, as I would!" Only one eloquent look thanked him, and her eyes again sought the floor. She felt rather than saw Latour passing, as he moved on to offer his arm to Miss Lord. She half extended her hand. Had she raised her eyes to him she had never risked the movement, for the Creole's glowed with ominous light, and his swarthy face was hard and unloving. His hand never moved, but she heard the whisper, that was almost a hiss: "I will not lie! You have sold yourself!" A second is long enough for a fate. A moment later the little cortege was in motion for the church. But for that I one moment the June sunset played I about the brown head of u bride bowed before the scorn of tho only man she had yet loved.. [to be continued next week.] pisfftlanwus grading. "REBEL BRIGADIERS" IN CONGRESS. Members Who Wore the Gray?Military Sketches of Senators and Representatives from the South in the Fifty-First Congress. It has been the custom of certain newspapers and politicians to characterize the Southern representatives in both houses of congress as "rebel brigadiers," and the Northern mind has become inoculated with the belief that some twenty-five years ago all of the Southerners in the national legislature were engaged in directing a gigantic war on the government. This is erroneous, and a casual study of the Congressional Directory will easily upset tho allegation. Lot us consider the facts as they stand and figure somewhat. The States which attempted secession, and actually did secede, were Maryland, Virginia, (embracing West Virginia) tho two Carolinas, Georgia, Tennessee, Kentucky, Alabama, Florida, Mississippi, Louisiana, Texas, Arkansas and Missouri? fourteen in all. These fourteen States, or fifteen counting the new Commonwealth of West Virginia, are represented in congress at this period by 150 senators and members of the house. Of these senators and congressmen about seventy were Confederate soldiers, five or six were Federal soldiers, a few were employed in staff positions, and three were war governors. The balance, more than one half, were nonI combatants. Some of these civilians were of military age, but the majority were not. Accepting the Directory as a guide, we iind that there are exactly twelve Southern "brigadiers," so-called, holding seats in the Fifty-first congress. Of this number the State of Alabama contributes three, Morgan, Wheeler and Forney ; Georgia, one, Colquitt; Florida, one, Bullock ; South Carolina, two, Hampton and Butler; North Carolina, one, Ransom ; Virginia, one, Lee: Tennessee, one, Bate ; Louisiana, one, Gibson ; and Mississippi, one, Walthall. I The list of colonels is hardly so long. J Herbert and Gates of Alabama, were officers of this grade, and Pool of Arj kansas, Hooker of Mississippi, Candj ler of Georgia, Mills and Cuthbertson j of Texas, and O'Ferrall of Virginia. { Houk commanded a regiment of East j Tennessee Unionists for a brief period. Five members constitute the whole ; number of lieutenant-colonels who cast i their fortunes with the Confederacy? i Davidson of Florida, Blount of Geor- i ! gia. McCreary of Kentucky, Stockdale j - " -' i <v?i *.. ..f ; I 01 .Mississippi, ami vuwu-a ui iiuiiu, ! Carolina, Stoekdale is a Pennsylva: nian by birth ami emigrated to Mis- j i sissippi in 18.50?just live years prior ! to the beginning of the war?yet he | seems to have made an admirable mili itary reeord. It was often remarked j ! during the progress of the war that 1 Northern men domiciled in the Southj ern States and owning property not 1 only espoused the cause of that section ' but were counted among the bravest soldiers who fought on the Confederate j side. A single name represents the quota of majors. MeClamy of North Carolina, one of the two pronounced Alliance ! men in this congress who hold the fort us an advance guard of those who are to follow. Carleton and Stewart of Georgia, were captains, the first having arepu! tation as an artillery man. Hatch of Missouri, was entitled to wear three bars, and Cothran of South Carolina, Coke and Hare of Texas, were also of this rank, and Mr. Martin, ofthe same State, the inimitable ''Major" of this day and generation. Congressional lieutenants are likewise few as to number. Clarke and Cobb of Alabama, come first in the Directory, followed by Horry of Arkansas. and Kogors of the same State. Judge Crisp won renown in this subaltern rank, and so did Anderson of Mississippi, Dibble, of South Carolina, and Kiehardsou of Tennessee. Abbott of Texas, completes this roster. The privates make a lusty showing in congress, as they did in war. and just twenty-six of these have won their nuiuu.iu'n mi to the hiirh estate v.-j.xv,.,* .... of national legislators. If any of the following bore a higher commission than the one held by Private John Allen of Mississippi, they have been too modest to recount it in their congressional biographies. Five members? Tarsney and Wade of Missouri. MeDuilie of Alabama. Kvans of Tennessee. and Smith of West Virginia ? fought for the I'liion. Senator Jones of Arkansas, shouldered a rille in the Confederate ranks, and so did Paseo of Florida, Kenna of West Virginia, and l'ugh of Alabama. The others 1 were: lireckenridgo of Arkansas. Lester and Crimes of (Jeorgia, Hankhead of Alabama, Stone and I'll lis of Kentucky. Coleman of Louisiana. Catehings, Lewis and Anderson of Missis( sippi. Skinner and Henderson of JNortn varouna, unman mm x vrry ui > < South Carolina, Pierce of Tennessee, j i and Wilson of West Virginia. i < There is another class who served in < various capacities, military and civil, 1 in the prosecution of the war. Senator 1 Faulkner of West Virginia, for exam. < pie, was a cadet at the Virginia Military Institute, but did some Held service. Senator Daniel was the adjutant- i general of Early's division. Senator J Eustis was an aid-dc-camp on the staff of Gen. Joseph E. Johnston, in the \ campaign to Atlanta. Representative < Whitthorne was the Adjutant General of Tennessee, and Col. Buck Kilgore acted in a similar capacity for Ector's i famous Texas brigade. Senator Vest < was a member of the Confederate con- i gress, representing a Missouri constit- i uency, while Senator Brown of Geor- : gia, Vance of North Carolina, and j Harris of Tennessee, were the war i governors of their respective States. i Gen. Wade Hampton held a higher Confederate commission than any of 1 his colleagues. He was a lieutenant < general of cavalry ind succeeded i Stuart after the deaAh of that gallant trooper at Yellow Tavefn. Hisassoci- ate, Gen. Butler, was a mqjor-general And lost a leg tn-the combat at Brapdy * Station June 6,1863. " Senator Bate of Tennessee, commanded a division under Hood in the Army of Tennessee and was a sturdy fighter. Representative Lee was a major-general, and so was Ransom of North Carolina, Colquitt of Georgia, and Walthall of Mississippi. Several of these figured conspicuously during the turbulent times incident to the < war. Walthall, with his skeleton brigade of Mississipi riflemen, defended Lookout Mountain for* hours against the assaults of Hooker's corps during the momentous battle of Missionary Ridge, and Colquitt, at the head of a brigade, won his major-general's baton under the sombre pines at Olustee. The Colquitts of Georgia, have long been a prominent family in that State. The present senator's father, Walter T. Colquitt, was a United States sena tor at one period. He was a unique character, and a hundred traditions are preserved concerning him. He was a great lawyer, and a great preacher, hut notwithstanding his pious calling, he was quick to resent an affront. It.is related of him that once while on his way to preach at a Methodist campmeeting, he met a neighbor who, for some reason, had become offended with him and did not speak to him. The fiery parson stopped the man and challenged him to dismount and settle their difference by a fisticuff. The man complied, and the preacher demolished him. An hour afterward he was in his pulpit exhorting sinners to throw themselves at the altar and be washed by the blood of the Lamb. The elder Colquitt married a sister oT Gen. Joe Lane, and two sons (Alfred and Peyton) were the issue of the union. Peyton was a West Pointer, and was the handsomest officer in Bragg's army. He commanded the Forty-sixth Georgia, and fell at Chickamauga while assaulting the works held by General Thomas. The Hamptons and Butlers of South Carolina, easily trace their lineage back to Colonial days. They both come of soldierly ancestors. The grandfathers " t -.i urt.:?+V.Q oi uoin were tiiiigsui uic uujo ui mv first Revolution. Senator Hampton's grandfather was a brigadier in the American army of that early period, and was engaged in many of the forays and combats that resulted in rolling back the scarlet wave of British invasion. The old Hampton homestead in Columbia, is a prominent landmark in the corporation. High brick walls enclose a full square,' and in the midst of this, embowered in rare tropical shrubbery, is a manor house, the luxurious home prepared by the first rebel of the name. A notable figure in the senate is the venerable John H. Reagan. Born in Tennessee, he emigrated to Texas when that State was a republic. He is the single survivor of the Confederate cabinet. He was a member of the Confederate provisional congress when that body assembled at Montgomery, and was selected as postmaster general for the newly organized government. He held the position until the close of the war, except for a short period when he acted as secretary of the treasury. Mr. Reagan has lived beyond the Biblical age, but is still a hale and hearty man. The Confederate war establishment was organized on a different plan to that of the Union. Passionately fond of military rank the Southerners provided for lieutenant-generals and full generals. On the Union side major generals commanded armies. On the Confederate side officers of a similar rank were entitled to command only divis ions. Lieutenant generals commanded their corps, and full generals alone were intrusted with the control of their armies. It is noticeable that several of these ex-C'on fedrate members of congress ore painfully maimed. Oatesof Alabama, left an arm in Chickahominy swamps, and Herbert of the same State, was grievously shot in the terrible Wilderness. Senator Berry left a leg at Corinth, carried oil'by a cannon shot, and j Hooker of Mississippi, contributed an ; arm in defence of the trenches about I Yicksburg. There is hardly a member of the senate or house, who fought for the Lost i j Cause, who did not receive a wound, | severe or otherwise, and not a few of them sutler from their hurts to-day.? E. 1'. Speer, in Richmond Dispatch. CLKVELAM) AND HILL. - | Ever since the last National Demo- j I cratic convention at ?St. Louis, there is j said to have been a very noticeable | coolness between ex-President Cleve' land and David B. Hill, the governor | of New York. The cause of this es- j trangement is generally believed to ; have been the course of Hill in that j convention, and in the campaign that ! followed, many Democrats throughout , I the country believing that Hill wasre| sponsible for Cleveland's defeat. The i reason assigned is that Hill wanted the presidential nomination himself, and , being unable to get it, he used his in- 1 j lluenee in New York against Cleve- j j land, not only from motives of revenge, ' but also to show his political strength, j Whether or not there is any truth in i these suppositions, is rather doubtful, i ; as recent developments seem to knock | all the remaining props from under the j theory. Both Cleveland and Hill were guests ; at a banquet given in New York a i few weeks ago by the Manhattan club of that city, and their conduct toward ! each other was suggestive not only of j the kindest feeling but of the highest regard. Cleveland toasted Hill as follows : "Before concluding my remarks, I de sire to propose the health of a distinguished citizen of this State who is present : one who has discharged the j responsible duties of the governor of *' ?t?li ? ? tln? <>iiiiiii>tit s:it I ill* nmiiiiiMUMiuiii ?v ?..v v.......... .... , isfaction of tin* people; one who has been rewarded lor his signal fidelity to | publie interests hy an eleetion to the Iii^rli olliee of senator in the congress of the I'nited States. I propose the health of the Hon David li. Hill." The toast was received with hearty approval hy the guests, as was also ! Mr. Hill's response. The latter ex pressed himself as follows in words ' that would admit of no other construction than the deepest sincerity; In reply to Mr. Cleveland's kind I words. 1 can only say that my highest j ambition is to serve the people in the ! high olliee to which I have been elect- ; CXI 111 DUl/U Q 1UMIUV& uo %v uav??? W?? iame encomiums as bestowed \ipon Mr. Cleveland for his administration of the exalted office he held for four jean. I hope I may also follow the example of that gentleman, at least to the extent of ultimately becoming a member of the Manhattan club." Since the occurrence of the above incident, the newspapers of the country have been greatly puzzled to know what it means, especially in view of the fact that it goes to prove the nonexistence of a state of a flairs about which they hod no doubt. Assuming, however, that there was an estrangement on account of Hill's conduct at the St. Louis convention and in the subsequent campaign, the following letter published In the Baltimore Sun, on Wednesday of last week, probably throws qome light upon the recent developments. The letter is alleged, to have been written by Henry . Wattereon, the great citizen-states-, man, and was prompted by his owii: convictions without consultation with any one. Hill denies that he ever received such a letter, and says that fci. does not believe that Watterson wrote it. The Sun, however, wWch & genits assertion that WatftefronWKtSw'' writer, but as to whether or not mil ever received it, it does not pretend to say. Here is tbe letter: Louisville, November 21,1890.? My dear sir: I take leave to address you this letter as one of some millions of Democrats who have never sought or held office, and who could not be induced to do so, but who are deeply poneerned in nartv welfhre and who believe you hold the key to it. Outside of the 8tate of New York there is a well-nigh unanimous demand among the rank and file of Democrats for the nomination of Cleveland. This is too strong for party leaders and managers to resist. I think I have some influence in Kentucky, but on this point I should be overwhelmed in the State convention. If you should come to the National convention with a New York delegation solid against it, you would be overwhelmed. You ore powerless to prevent it. But you can defeat the election of the ticket. There ore Democrats in every part of the Union who believe you did this in 1888. I know that to be false. I know exactly what happened, and I have steadily defended you in public and in private. But it will cling to you as long as you live, even as the bargain, intrigue and corruption story clung to Clay, and will meet you in every National convention, if it be not dissipated by some act on your part great enough to blot it out. In default of this, if you have any hope of the presidency it will defeat that. My judgment is clear that, if you could reconcile it with your judgment and feeling to make peace with Cleveland and to take the delegation to the National convention in 1892 to put him in nomination, you will save the party and place yourself upon an elevation you can never attain if you fell to do it. You would be received by the country with enthusiasm, be accepted at once as a Warwick, and I do not see how you could be kept out of the succession. On the other hand, even if you succeed in defeating the nomination of Cleveland, you will stand upon sinister and dangerous ground with a stormy future before you. These are plain words, and I have no relations with you which give me the right to offer you counsel. They may be disagreeable words, and I have linnn VAIir nH 1IU UCOli C IU VUW uuv U^VM j vu* f~" vacy. But they are true words, and I claim the right of a Democrat who has some knowledge of the country at large, and has given some proof of intelligent devotion to party interests, to ignore ceremony and to send them to you. In conclusion let me say that I shall, in auy event, be glad to know you better, and that, meanwhile, I am most sincerely your friend, itenry wattersox. To the Hon. David B. Hill. Refused to Meet Jay Gould.? Governor Northen, of Georgia, js. not an admirer of Monopolist Gould. During a great reception given to the rail-, load gobbler while in Atlanta, not long "a ! oaoKIo foot thaf /xf all UgUj 11/ ? ao a uvm tttuiv/ iuw ?uwv.vi the distinguished dignitaries of the capital, Governor Northern was the only one who was not present. His absence created much comment. Some thought he had probably been forgotten by the invitation committee. Others suggested that probably Mrs. Northen was unwell, and the governor was reluctant to uttend the reception without her, and numerous other reasons were assigned. It develops, however, that the reason Governor Northen did not meet Jay Gould was because he did not want to. He had been duly invited to participate in the reception, and it was represented to him that Mr. Gould's visit to Atlanta i - t 1 meant mucn in a uusmesM mmisc j vuav Georgia would gain by his proposed trans-continental alliance with the Richmond Terminal system more than any other State, since it meant the pouring of the great grain shipments of the West into the ports of Brunswick and Savannah. But Governor Northen did not look upon the matter that way. He said: "I do not want to meet Mr. Gould. His visit here has no ollicial character. While I would like to meet the other gentlemen of the party, I cannot do so because of the presence of Mr. Gould. I object to him personally, because I disapprove of his policy of monopoly and his business methods. I regret to be forced to this conclusion, but the common people owe Mr. Gould nothing, and as chief executive of Georgia I cannot do him reverence." An Obliging Minister.?The Rev. Mr. Henson, of this city, writes Eugene Field in The Chicago News, was walking down town one evening. From his saintly contemplation his thoughts were distracted by a small l>oy?a very small boy?who, standing upon tiptoe, vainly sought to reach the knob of a door-bell hard by. "Aha, my little man," cried the l?enignant shepherd, cheerily; "it's too high for you, isn't it? Yes?yes?too high for you. Well, never mind, my lad, you'll Hud that's the case all through life?we are all AMilv wAiinKmnr tin frtP 11 U | K" I 11 1 IJV KfllV >411111 > I IT 44\ iiut^ U|F ?v. tilings too high for us. It is the sad yet common experience of all mankind. Hut I'll help you. my little man?yes, I'll help you !" With this, the Rev. Mr. Henson mounted the steps and gave the l>ellknoh a terrific pull. Xo sooner, however, had the kind pastor performed this friendly olliee than the small boy, turned, ami. seizing the Rev. Mr. Hensou by the coat-tails, said, in a voice that nearly congealed the soul of the eminent divine within him, "Come on, now, let's run like thunder!" A brougham built by an English firm is a model of conveniences. It is lilted with electric light sufficient for reading or writing. Opposite the seat is an ivory plate on which are several buttons properly lettered. "Left," "Right," "Stop," "(Jo On," "Home," and so on. On the dashboard, in the coachman's view, is a case lettered to correspond, so that when a knob is pressed he understands at once what is expected of him. One buttou brings out the word "Speak," in which case he will put the speaking tube in position and receive orders.