Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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" Partners I I had no right to ooma into thia business. It was never meant for me. My mother never meant rt should be mine. I mean bis mother meant it should be his-if I mean anything-or if I am anybody." " Come, come." urged his partner, after a moment's pause, and taking possession of him with that calm confidence which inspires a strong nature when it honestly desires to aid a weak one. "Whatever has gone wrong bas gone wrong through no fault of yours, I am very sure. I waa not in this counting-house with you under the old regime, for three years, to doubt yon, Wilding. We were not younger men than we are, to? gether, for that. Let me begin our partnership by being a serviceable partner, and Betting right whatever is wrong. Eas that letter anything ta do with it?" " Hah," said Wilding, with hi3 hand to bia temple. "There again. My head. I waa for? getting the coincidence. The (Swiss postmark. " "At a second glance I see that the letter is unopened, so it ia not very likely to have much to do with the matter," said Vendale, with comforting composure. "Is it for yon, or for mr .'.. For ns," said Wilding. " Supposa I open it and read it aloud, to get it. ont of our way?" "Thank yon, thank you." "The letter ia only from our champagne making friends, th? house of Neucbatel. 1 Dear sir: We are in receipt of yours of the 28th nit, informing na that yon have taken your Mr. Ven? dale into partnership, whereupon we beg you to receive the assurance of our felicitations. Per? mit ns to embrace the occasion of specially com? mending to you M. ' Jn'es Obenreizer,' Impos? sible. " Wilding- looked up in quick apprehension, and cried, "Eh?" "Impossible sort of name," returned bia partner, Bligh My, "Obenenreizer. '-Of specially cornmending to you M. Jules Obenreizer, of Soho Square, London (north aide), henceforth fully accredited as our agent, and who has al? ready had the honor of making the acquain? tance of your Mr. Vendale, in his (said M. Oben ratter's) native country, Switzerland'-to be sure, pooh, pooh; what have I been thinking of ? I remember now-' when traveling with his niece.' "With his-?" Vendale had so slurred the last word, that Wilding had not heard it. " When traveling with his niece. Obenreizer's niece," said Vendale, in a aomewhat superflu? ously lucid manner. " Niece of Obenreizer. (I met them in my first Swiss tour, traveled a little with them, and loat them for two years ; met them again, my Swiss tour before last, and have lost them ever since.) Obenreizer. Niece of Obenreizer. To be sure I Possible sort of name, after all I 'M. Oben? reizer is in possession of our absoluto confi? dence, and we do not doubt you will esteem his merita.' Duly signed by the house, ' Defrosnier .t Cte.' Very well. I undertake to see M. Ob? enreizer presently, and clear bim out of the way. Th* clears the Swiss postmark out of the way. So now, my dear Wilding, tell me what I can clear ont of your way, and Fll find a way to clear lt." More than ready and grateful to be thus taken charge of, the honest wine merchant wrung his partner's hand, and, beginning bis tale by pa? thetically declaring himself an impostor, told it. " It waa on thia matter, no doubt, that yon were sending for BIntrey when I came in ?" said bis partner, after reflecting. " It waa." " He has experience and a shrewd head ; I tball be anxious to know bia opinion. It is bold and hazardous in me to give you mine before I know bia, but I am not good at holding back. Plainly, then, I do not see these circumstances au yon see them. I do not eeo your position aa yon aee it As to your being an impostor, my dear Wilding, that is simply absurd, because no man can be that without being a consenting party toan imposition. Clearly you never were so. AB to your enrichment by the lady who believed you to be her son, and whom you were forced to believe, on her own showing, to be your mother, consider whether that did not arise ont of the personal relations between yon. You gradually became much attached to her; she gradually became much attached to yon. It was on yon, personally on yon, as I see the case, that .abe conferred these worldly advantages; it waa from her, personally her, that you took them. "She supposed me," objected Wilding, shak? ing his head, "to hare a natural claim upon nar, which I had not." " I must admit that," replied his partner, " to be true. But if she had made the discovery that yon have made, six monthB before she died, i-do you think it would have cancelled the years ?you were together, and the tenderness that each of you had conceived for the other-each on in? creasing knowledge* of the other ?" "What I think," said Wilding, simply but etoia?y holding to the bare faot, " can no more change the truth than lt can bring down the i sky. The truth is that I stand possessed of what ?ras meant for another man." " He may be dead," said Vendale. "He may be alive," paid W?ding. "Andif tie ia alive, have I not-innocently, I grant ; yon innocently-robbed him of enough? Have ^ I not robbed him of all the nappy timo .tnat I enjoyed in his stead? Have I not robbed him of the exquisite delight that filled ' my soul when that dear lady, stretching his ( lland toward the pictuse, "told me she was my mother ? Have I not robbed him of all the ( ?are she lavished on me ? Have I not even robbed bim of all the devotion and duty that I ^ ?to proudly gave to ber? Therefore it is that I ask myself, George Vendale, and I ask you, 1 Where is he ? What has become of bim ?" "Who can tell 1" "I must try to find out who can tell. I must I institute inquiries. I must never desist from ] prosecuting inquiries. I will live upon the in- ( tereat of my share-I ought to say bia abare-ia t this business, and will lay np the rest for him? When I find him, I may perhaps throw myself npon his generosity; but I will y.eld np all to him. I will, I swear. Aa I loved and honored her," said Wilding, reverently kissing his hand toward the picture, and then covering his eyes with it-" as I loved and honored her, and have a world of reasons to be grateful to her I" And so broke down again. His partner rose from the chair he had oc? cupied, and stood beside him, with a band softly laid npon his shoulder. " Walter, I knew you before to-day to be an upright man, with a pure conscience and a fine heart. It is very fortunate for me that I hare tho privilege to travel on in life so near to so trustworthy a mau. I am thankful for it. Use me as your right band, and rely upon me to the death. Dont think the worse of me if I protest to you that my upper? most feeling at present ls a confused, you may call it an unreasonable, one. I feel far more pity for the lady and for you, because you did not stand in your supposed relations, than I can feel for the unknown man (if he ever became a man), because be was unconsciously displaced. You have done well in Bending for Hr. Bin tr oy. What 1 think will be a part of bis advise, I know is the whole of mine. Do not move a step in this serious matter precipitately. The secret must be kept among us with great strictness, for to part with it lightly would be to invite fraudulent claims, to encourage a host of knaves, to let loose a flood of perjury and plot? ting. I bare no more to say now, Walter, than to remind you that yon sold me a abare in your business expressly to save yourself from more work than your present health ia flt for, and that I bought it expressly to do work, and 1 mean to do it.*? With these words, and a parting grip of his partner's shoulder that gare them the best em? phasis they could have bad, George Vendale be? took himself presently to the counting-house, and presently afterward to the taddress of M. Jules Obenreizer. As he turned into Soho square, and directed his steps toward the north side, a deepened color shot across his sun-browned face, which Wild? ing, if he had been a better observer, or bad been less occupied with his own trouble, might hare noticed when bis partner read aloud a cer? tain passage in their Swiss correspondent's let? ter, which he had not read so distmctly aa the rest. A curious colony of mountaineers had long been inclosed within that small flat London dis? trict of Soho. Swiss watchmakers, Swiss silver chasers, Swiss Jewelers, Swiss importers of Swiss musical boxes and Swiss toys of Tahona kinda, draw olese together there. Swiss professors of music, painting ; and languages ; Swiss artificers in steady work; Swiss couriers, and other Swiss servants chronically out of place ; Industrious Swiss laundresses and clear-star chere ; mysteri? ously existing Swiss of both sexes ; Swiss, cred? itable and Swiss discreditable ; Swiss to bo trusted by all means, and Swiss to be trusted by no means ; these diverse Swiss particles are at? tracted to a center in the district uf Bobo. Shab? by Swiss eating-houses, coffee-houses, and lodging-houses, Swiss drinks and dishes, Swiss service for Sundays, and Swiss schools for week? days, are all to be found there. Even the native born English taverns drive a sort of broken En? glish trade ; announcing in their windows Swiss whets and drams, and sheltering In their bara Swiss skirmishes of lore and animosity on most nights in the year. When the new partner in Wilding & Co. rang the bell of a door bearing tbe blunt inscription Obenreizer on a brass plate-the mner door of a substantial house, whose ground story waa de Toted to the sale of Swiss clocks-he pasaed at once into domestic Switzerland. A white-tiled store for winter time filled the fireplace of the room into which he waa shown ; the room's bare floor was laid together in a neat pattern of ser eral ordinary woods ; the room had a prevalent air of surface bareness and much sorubbing ; and the little square of flowery carpet by the sofa, and the velvet chimney-board, with its oapacious clock and vases of artificial flowers, contended with that tone, as if, in bringing ont the whole effect, a Parisian had adopted a dairy to domestic purposes. Mimio water was dropping off a mill-wheel under the clock. The visitor had not stood be? fore it, following it with his eyea, a minute, when M. Obenreizer, at bis elbow, startled him by saying, in very good English, reiy slightly i clipped : " How do you do? So glad 1" " I beg your pardon. 1 didn't hear yon come in." i "Not at alli Sit, please." Releasing his visitor's two arms, which he had slightly pinioned at the elbows by way of em? brace, M. Obenreizer also sat, remarking, with a i smile : "You are well? So gladi" and touching his i Blbows again. "I dont know," said Vendale, after exchange if salutations, "whether you may yet have heard 1 )f me from your house at Neuohatel." 1 "Ah, yes P' ' M In connection with Wilding 4 Co. ?" < "Ah, surely 1" 1 ?Is it not odd that I should come to you, In 1 london here, as one ot the firm of Wilding A Co., o pay the firm's respects "Not at all I What did I always observe when ( ve were on the mountains? We call them rast;, mt the world is so little. So little is the world, hat one cannot keep away from persons. There ire so few persons in the world, that they con inually crosB and re-cross. So very little is the vorld, that one cannot get rid of a person. Not,*> ouching his elbows again, with au ingratiatory : ru ile, " that one would desire to get rid of you." "I hope not. M. Obenreizer." ( "Please call me, in your country, Mr. I call i nyself so, for I love your country. If I could be i imglish? But I am born. And you? Though i leeceuded from so fine a family, you have bad < he oondessenaion to oom? into trade? Stop, 1< though. Wines T Is it trade, in England, or pro? fession ? Not fine art ? "Mr. Obenreizer," returned Vendale, some? what ont of countenance, "I was but a silly young fellow, just of age, when I first had the pleasure of traveling with you, and when you r.nd I, and mademoiselle, your niece-who is well?" " Thank you. Who is welL" "-Shared some slight grader dangers to? gether. If, with a boy's vanity, I rather vaunted my family, I hope I did so aa a kind of introduc? tion of myself. It was very weak, and in very bad taste; but perhaps you know our English proverb, 'Live and learn.' " "You make too much of it," returned the Swiss. "And what the devil 1 A/to;.- all, yours was a fine family.*1 George Vendale'e laugh betrayed a little vexa? tion, as he rejoined : " Well, I was strongly at? tached to my parents, and when we first traveled together, Mr. Obenreizer, I was in the first flush of coming into what my father and mother left me. So I hope it may have been, after all, more youthful openness of speech and heart than boastfulness." "AU openness of speech and heart I No boast? fulness 1" cried Obenreizer. "Youtax yourself too heavily. You tax yourself, my faith 1 as if you was your government taxing you 1 Besides, it commenced with me. I remember, that even? ing in the boat upon the lake, floating among '.he reflections of the mountains and valleys, the' ! crags and pine woods, which were my earliest remembrance, I drew t> word-picture of my sor- > did childhood. Of our poor hut by the waterfall which my mother showed to travelers; of the ' cow-shed where I slept with the cow; of my idiot half-brother always titting at the door, or limping down the Pass to beg; of my half-sister always spinning, and rusting her enormous goitre on a great stone; of my being a famished, naked Uttle wretch of two or three years when they were mea end women with hard hands to beat me, I, the only child ot' my father's second mar? riage-if it even was a marriage. What more natural than for you to<ompare notes with me, and say, 'Weare aa one by ? ige; at that same time I sat upon my mother's lap in my father's carriage, - rolling through the rich English streets, all luxury surrounding ms, all squalid poverty kept far from me. Such ia my earliest remembrance as opposed to yours I* " Mr. Obenreizer was a black-haired young man of a dark complexion, through Whose swarthy; skin no red glow over ohoae. When color would have come into another cheek, a hardly discern- ? ible heat would come tato his, as if the machinery for bringing np tho ardent blood were there, but the machinery were diy. He Was robustly made, weU proportioned, and had handsome features. Many would have perceived that some surface ohange in him would have-set them more at their ease with him, without being able to define what change. If hie Ups could have been made much thicker, and bia neck much thinner, they would have found their want supplied. But the great Obenrsizor peculiarity was, that a certain nameless film would come over bis eyes -apparently by the action of his own will-which would impenetrably rail, not only from those - tellers ot tales, but from bis face at largo, every expression save one ol' attention. It by no means foUowed that his attention ahould be wholly given to the person with whom he spoke, or even wholly bestowed on present sounds and objects. Bather, it was a comprehensive watch? fulness of everything he had hi his own mind, and everything that he knew to be, or suspected to be, in the minda of other men. At this stage of the conversation, Mr. Obep reizer's film came over him. " The object of my present visit,*1 said Ven? dale, " is, I need hardly say, to assure you of the friendliness of Wilding ? Co., and of the goodness of your credit with us, and of our de she to be of service to you. We hope shortly to offer you our hospitality. Things are not quite in train with us yet, for my partner, Mr. Wild? ing, is reorganizing the domestic part of our establishment, and is interrupted by some private affairs. You dont know Mr. Wilding, I I behever" i Mr. Obenreizer did not. I " Yon must come together soon. He wlU be - glad to have made your acquaintance, and I . thin k I may pr e die t that you will be g lad to have made bis. You have not been long established in London, I suppose, Mr. Obenreizer ?" " It is only now that I have undertaken this igenoy." i ? . Made m oi s ell e your niece-is-not married ?" < "Not married.'' George Vendale glanced about bim, as ii for 1 iny tokens of her. i " She has been in London 1" i " She it in London." i " When and where might I have the honor of i [??diing myself to her remembrance ?" i Mr. Obenreizer, discarding his film and touch- i ng his visitor's elbows as before, said Ughtly, ) " Come up stairs." ' Flattered enough by the suddenness with t irhich the interview he had sought was coming 1 ipon him after ail, George Vendale foUowed up t stairs. In a room over the chamber he bad just 1 quitted-a room also Swiss-appointed-a young j a dy sat near one o" three windows, working at t tn embroidery- frame ; and an older lady sat with t ier face turned close to another white-tiled ( stove (though it was summer, and the stove waa 1 lot lighted), cleaning gloves. The young lady i irore an unusual quantity of faur, bright hair, i rerry prettily braided about a rather rounder i white forehead than the average English type, { md BO her face might have been a shade-or say a light-rounder than the average English f 'ace, and her figure slightly rounder than t ;he figure of the average English girl at nine- < teen. A remarkable indication of freedom and > race of limb, in her quiet attitude, and a won- ' lerful purity and freshness ot color in her dim? pled face and bright gray eyes, aeemed fraught c with mountain air. Switzerland, too, though the f ? ene ral fashion of her dress waB English, peeped >ut of the fanciful bodice abe wore, and lurked in i ;ho ourioui cloaked red stocking, and in ita little 1I aa-Sa-? T " -?y-ria-i ~ ' i ?' ' l silve::-buckled shoe. Asjto ttl* elder lady/sitting with her feet apart upon the lower brass ledge of tho store, E upporting ? lap fall of gloves while the cleaned ODO stretched on her left hand, sh? was a true Swiss impersonation of another kind ; from the breadth of her cushlon.Hke back, and ifbe ponderosity of her respectable legs (il the word be admissible), to the black velvet band tied tightly ronnd her throat for the repres? sion of Arising tendency to goitre ; or, higher s till, to her great eopper-oolored gold earrings ; or, higher still, to her head-dress of black gauze stretched on wire. " Miss Marguerite," said Obenreizer, to the young lady, "do you recoil oct this gentleman?" "I think," she Answered, rising from her seat, surprised and a little confused, " it is Mr. Ven? dale r "J: think lt ia," said Obenreizer, dryly. Fer mit me, Mr. Vendale. Madame Dor." Tl ie elder lady by the stove, with the glove stretched on ber left hand, like a glover's sign, half got up, half looked over her broad shoulder, and wholly plumped down again and rubbed .way. , " iiadame Dor," add Obenreizer, smiling, "is so kind as to' keep me free from stain or tear. Mad une Dor humors my weakness for being al? way u neat, and devotes her time to removing .very one of my specks and spots." Miidama Dor, with the stretched glove in ithe air,-' and her eves closely scrutin? izing its palm, discovered a tough spot in Mr. Obenreizer at that instant, add rubbed hard at bim. George Vendale took bis seat by the embroidery-frame (having first taken the fair right band that his ?ntranos bad checked), and glanced at the gold cross that dittied lute the bodice, with something of the devotion of a pilgrim who bad- reached his shrine at last. Obenreizer stood in the middle of the room, with bis thumbs in his waistcoat poe te ts, and became filmy, ?' " He was saying down stairs, Miss Obenreizer,'1 observed Vendale, "Hist th? world ls se ?mail a pl?oe, that people cannot escapo one anothea X have found ft much too largo for me since I saw yon last." "Have you traveled so far, then?" sh o in? quired. "Not so far, for I have only gone back to Switzerland each year; but I could have wished -and mdeed I have wished very often-that tho litt! e world did not afford such opportunities fer loni* escapes as) it does. If it bad been leas, I mifpbt have found my fellow-travelers sooner,you know." - The pretty Marguen te colored, and very slightly glanced in the direction of Madame Der. . > You find ne at length; Mr. Vendale. Perhaps yoti may lose us again." "I tru*? bot. The curious ' coincidence that han enabled me to find yon encourages me to hope not." * 'What fa that coin cid on ce, sir, if you please ?" ii dainty little native' touch in this tarn of speech 'and Hs tone made it perfectly capti? vating, thought George Vendale, when again he noticed an instantaneous glauco toward Madame Der. A can tum seemed to ?be conveyed in it. rapid flash though it waa ?co be quietly took heed of Madame Dor from ttrat time forth. ' "It is that I happen to hewe become a partner in a bouse of business in Lem don to which Mr. Obenreizer happens this vei.y day to be expressly recommended ; and that, too, by another house of business In Switzerland, on which (as lt turne out), we both have a commercial interest. He has not told you ?" "Ahl" cried Obenreizer, ?triking in firmness. "No. I had not told Mists Marguerite. The world is so small and GO monotonous that a sur? prise is Worth having in such a little jog-trot place. It is as he tells y on,. Mi ss Marguerite. He, of so fine a family, and somroudly bred, has condescended to trade. To i trade 1 Like us poor peasants, who have rise a from ditches!" A cloud crept over the iain brow, and she cast down her eyes. " Why, it is good for trade i" pursued Oben? reizer, enthusiastically. It enneblee trade 1 It is the misfortune of trade, it?ie its vulgarity that my low people-for example, we poor peasants -may take to it and climb by it. See you, my lear Vendale I" He spoke with great energy. " The father of Miss Marguerite, my eldest half brother, more than two tunes your age or mine, if living now, wandered without shoes, almost without raga, from that wretched toast-wan lered-wandered-got to be fed with* the mules md dogs at an Inn in the main valley far away -got to be Boy there-got to be Ostler-got to be Waiter-got to be Gook-got to be'Landlord. Ls Landlord, he took me (could he take th) diot beggar, his brother, or the spinning mon? strosity, his sister ?) to put as pupil to the fa nous watchmaker, bis neighbor and friend. His rife dies when Miss Marguerite is born. What s bis will, and what are his words, te me, when ie dies, she being between girl and woman ? 'Ail for Marguerite, except so much by he year for you. Von are young, but I make 1er your ward, for you were of the obscurest and be poorest peasantry, and so wu I, and so was 1er mother ; we were abject peasants all, and rou will remember it" The thing is equally rue of most of my countrymen, now in trade in bia your London quarter of Soho. Peasants ince ; low born, drudging Swiss Peasants. Then low good and great for trade ? here, from har ng been warm, he became playfully jubilant, md touched the young wine merchant's elbows igain with his light embrace : "to be exalted by tent'emin I" " I do not think so," said Marguerite, with a lushed cheek and a look away from the visitor, hat was almost defiant. " I think it is as much ixalted by us peasants." "Fie, fie, Miss Marguerite," said Obenreizer. 1 You speak in proud England." " I speak in proud earnest," she answered, LUietly resuming her work, "and I am not En rlish, but a Swiss peasant's daughter." There was a dismissal of the subject in her rorda, which Vendale could not contend against, ie only said is ta earnest manner. "I mott [j ;... 8. heartily ?gr?e with yon, MifetrOhocKlzer/ahXl hare aire ' r said so, aa Hr. db?nr?izor vffll.beV witness," which he by nb means did, ? In this house." rg?Lil-5AH,? Now, Vendale* eyes were qaiek-eyesV'ald sharply watching Madame Dor' by times, noted something m the broad tack Tiew. of that lady. There 'W?a considerable pr^tomimio . 'expres? sion in her glove-cleaning. It had- been' vo?T softly don? when he ajxwe with /Marguerite, or it had altogether atapped? like-, tho action of a listener. YThf-z Obeiwcaiaz'a:? peas? ant-speech came to an end, ob? robbeA-most vigorously, aa if appla'iding ifc...And OBC*. ?>r twice, as tho glove (which she always hold before her, a little above her face) turned in the air, pr as this floger weet doirn, or t^^yent np, be oren fancied that it mad? some telegraphic iconi munioation to Qbenreizar, whoa*., Mi IBM oar tainly never turned upon it, though be.cliii not teem at all to heed it. ?oom os.tot V?ndalo observed, too? that, Ip M^tfgn^ritaV dismissal of ?he subject twic#.foj?ed fupon him to his mlsreprosentatior,, there wa* an indignant treatment of her guardian which.she tried to check, aa though aha would bave ^flamed- out against him but for th ? mfluence. fear, .-.He also observed-though, thia .JTSS not much-that he never advanced within the distance ol her ftt which ha first placed himself, aa.-ftougb' .tLere wera limits fixed betwe;a them, -StaehfiE bad b9 ever spoken cf har, wit bout the prent -i'MisS," though whenever he uttered it, it was wita the faintest trace of an air of mockery. And uaw ii occurred to Vendale foi the first tune thal some thing curious in the man, vhlcb, bftlbadnever before bees able to defin??, was definable M Acert ai n subUo essene* of mockery that ekded-touch or analysis. He^slfc conrnced tut Itegnerite wts in soma eort a prisoier as to -har :'fte*-will, though ahe held har otra against tho** two-.flMb bined by the force of her charaoterr whi* "was nevertheless inad?quat to her release,.. To-feel convinced of this-wa* not to feellewdijrpo?ed to lore her than he had ilwAyo been. In, ? wer li, he waa desperately io love \rith; har,,**, thor? oughly determined to pursue the,oppo;rtnnit.y whieh had opened at hat. -7 worri 1 stood For the present he merely touched- upon the pie raure tbatW?ding ? Co. would eoonhays in en? treating M?as Oboitrair.Br tohon^t^?gss*hiteri ment with her presence-a ourip?^i)? jpUcn, though a bachelor house withal-andso-did not protrr.ct bis riait: bey cad euch a yn&Vorduiary length,' Going down stairs, conducted bj? his host, he found the Ob-nreizer counJ4ng>houj?a at r the bu ok of the entrar e* hali, and several shab? by men in oatlandish garments, banging about, whom Ob?nr eizer pul saide that he, might pata, with a few words in pcloi?.. I ?ostia " Countrymen," he explained, a* he attended Vendale to tb* do.?., "Poof; aompatriots. Grateful and attached, like dogs 1 Good'by. To meet again, . . 80 glad'" -. tarama io! Two more light tenet ea on bis elboroditm-tttsad him into the street. Sweet Marguerite at .ber frame, and Madame Dor's broad back at her telegraph, floated,before him to Cripple Corner, Op .bia.. arrireLtbeai, WildinR waa closeted with Bin trey. The cellar doors happening to he open,-Vendale lighted a candle in a oleft stich, and went down far a" eel larous stroll. Graceful Maxcuerito. floated be? fore him faithfully,.but Madame Dor> .broBd back remained ontsid?. -..: .1: [ it m " The vaults were v<wry. spaciquaj tad verrj-ojd. There had. been a stone crypt down there, when by-gor.ee were not by-goner, eomo %aj?? part of a monkish refectory; 'some said, a chapel j -some said, of a Pagan temple. It waa. ali-one- now. Let who would, make ?hat he liked of a erma bl ed ? pillar or a broken ar ch or so. Old ^in^e- had made what he liked 0:' it, and waa quite major? ent to contradiction. The close air, the musty snell, and tho thunderous rumbling in ibo atrect*. above, as being out of tho routine of orxhaaxy life, went well enough with the picture- cf pretty Marguerite holding her own-against those two. Bo Vendale' went, qa u&tilj H.: a tuniing-fa.i te vaults, hu saw a ligbj i? be . h * hg ht hecarr? ?JJ Orrr\ ton are here, are you> Jtooy?" ;? ?? "Oughtn't it ratb?r to go, ''Oh.! ?on^erhajR, are you, Master George ?' For, it's my business to be here. But ii ajn'ij youno, 7 , "Don't grumble, Jboy." ; B, : .'? "Ohl I con't grumble," returned the-Cellar man. "If any thing- grumbles, it?s wbw Btojtpok in through the pores; it ain't me. Have a care as something in you don't begin a grumbling, Master George. 6 to ? here -long enonga jae .the wapon to/work, and they'll, bearii." M g His present occupation consisted of poking bil head into the bins, making measurements and mental calculations, and entering them in a rhinocercus-Lido-looiring note-book, like a piece of himself. . . " They'll be at it," he resumed, laying the wooden rod that ho measured withacrysd two casks, entering his last calculation, and * traiga t enihg his back, "trust 'emI And so you've regularly come Into the .business, ii aa ter George?" o j " j? ?. Regularly. I hope yon don't object,. Joe;? " I dont, bio 5s you. But wapora object* that you're too young. You're both on yon to* young.'* "Wa shall get over that objection day hy day, Joey." v? 8 Ay, Master George; but I shall, day by day, get over the objection that I'm too old, and ?a I shan't be capable of seeing much improvement in you," The retort so tickled Joey Ladle that ba grunted forth a laugh and delivered it.agsit\ grunting forth another laugh, after the second ' edition of "improvement in you." ' " But what's no laughing, mutter, Master George," he resumed, straightening bia ba?k once ?iore, "is, that Young Master Wilding bar gone and changed the luck. Mark my words. He ha* changed the luck, aad he'll find it out [ ain't been down here all my lifo for nothingt [ know by what I notioao down here, when it's : toing to raw* ?han if a a-going to bott up, won