Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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FORGED APART By W. CLARK RUSSELL. AvXhor of the "Wreck of the Grosvenor,* "A Sailor's Sweetheart^ Etc ? CHAPTER XV. MOTHER MEAD. It bad bee a a sudden sickness and a dread ful giddiness that had caused Jenny to sink on the floor, from which she recovered soon after her father had quitted the house for his visit to Greystone school. The wild distrac tion in her eyes had repelled Mrs. Strang fleld, and for mercy and dread the mother asked no questions, but sat, silent and sighing, watching her daughter with piteous concern. Then her duties calling her, and thinking besides that solitude would be precious to suoh bitter grief as Jenny's, Mrs. Strangfleld gently left the room. No sooner was she gone than Jenny started to her feet, and paced about as though seized with madness, with a frown upon her forehead, and her hands pressing tightly bo low hor hipaC Full realization of what had befallen her had come to her heart, and she was driven by intolerable agony of spirit That Cnthbert had left her of his own will did not como into her mind. Belief in love docs not fall dead in this way. And no one had yet suggested to her, as kindly solution of the mystery of his disappearance, that it might be he had taken a sudden shame of her as his wife and .had left her, acting a sweet part up to the last hour?for men are shock ing dece'vers. What, then, did she think? Why, that some accident had befallen him; and the idea that he might be lying dead in some hidden place so frenzied her, that, without con sideration of her purpose, she fled upstairs for her hat and left the house to seek him. She had wandered beyond the market plarr when her mind took a grasp of her in tentivu, and that brought her to a stand. The midday sun beat fiercely upon the road, and hel? the pavements tolerably empty. But there were people in the shops, and they stared at her as she stood; perceiving which, she went down the street again, with her heart beating furiously over a new-born ? resolution to call on Dr. Shaw, and begin her inquiries after her husband at his own home. But when she had got as far as the market place, the fame of Mother Mead as a gossip and teller of fortunes occurred to her, and this because she saw the old woman's bent figure going at a hobble on the other side of the market place. So Jenny, passing quickly through the stalls, intercepted the dame as she was turning into the court in whijrh she dwelt Mrs. Mead was talking to herself in a loud, quavering voice, and so completely engrossed ? with witchlike thoughts?for what other thoughts could possibly visit such an ugly conformation??that she did not observe Jenny until she found herself stopped by the girl standing in front of her. "Ah, Miss Jenny Strangfleld?if that be your rale name, my dear! A hot marning, isn't it? with a power of dust for an old nose' that finds snuff cruel, dear. Why, your father is jest beyont?I am now from him? and Lard! his eyes are in such a blaze that my old skin cracked when he looked at me." "May I speak with you in your house, Mrs. Mead? I am in great trouble." At sight of the sad, sweet face Mrs. Mead's ugly countenance underwent a kind of trans formation. Her nose and chin did not, in deed, moderate their intimacy; but the blood shot old eye took a sudden light of compas sion, and a strange grin of good nature over spread her face. "Come along, my dear," she exclaimed, "if ye're not above being seen with sitch a scarecrow as me. Stoop your head, for 'tis an old-fashioned door, built afore palaces was known. There's a strong chair that'll hold thee; and If I can comfort thee, my pretty, I'll mop out my old heart to do it, I'll warrant" They hod arrived at a rickety old house, with a sitting room very abruptly entered from the street This room and a bed cham ber adjacent composed Mrs. Mead's dwelling. Taking a seat opposite the girl, she ran her eyes over her from top to toe. "Now, my child," said she, "what can I do? Is it your fortune you want told? Kay, nay. there's no physic in such stuff for rale trouble. It's good for foolish wenches whoso brains are made o' ribbon, but not for the like3 o' thee, dearie." "I am in bitter trouble, indeed, Mrs. Mead. Mr. Shaw, the son of the doctor, is missing, and I am mad to know where he is," said Jenny, bending her pale face forward as she spoke. "Likely enough, my dear?he had the most noble face that iver I see on n man. What was he to thee? Your answer shall be sacred with me. Speak the worst, if harm hath come to ye. You'll find Judith Mead dumb as your heart" "Ho was my husband," replied Jenny, in a voice scarcely above a whisper, for the secret was still so fre^h that the revelation of it startled hor to hear, though spoken with her own voice. Mrs. Mead screwed up her eyes to look at the girl, until the upp-? part of her face was a mask of wrinkles. "Your husband!" she exclaimed, in a tone and with a manner that would have made it impossible for a third person to know whether she believed the girl or not, for, as to Jenny, . it could not occur to her that her word would bedoubted. "Why, then, no wonder his going troubles ye." "Oh, Mrs. Mead, why do you say 'his go ing?1 He has not left his home, do you think? Is it not possible that ho has somewhere met with an accident? Or has his father forced him to leavo I On Wednesday ho promised me to call last night on father and break the news of our marriage, for all this while was it our hidden secret What should prevent him coming? Oh, Mrs. Mead, ho loves mo truly, and would be with me if he could come. Can he be dead.' Oh, kind God! if I thought this I would kill myself, that I might bo dead with him." '?My dear,1' said Mrs. Mead, slowly, and reflecting hard while she spoke, "he is not dead. Folks do not die like this without it being known. Where could he die? Com ing to call on father.' Then his body would ha' been found?for the Lord knows they've been searching closely enough;an' unless he's gone up to heaven, clothes an' all, HJj? the Prophet Elijah, you may be sure he's walk in' about on this world somewhoers, hale an' hearty. Did they tell Ve there was a press gang hero last night.' Butyc mustn't look to that. They'd never take a slender man like him. Billy Basings they forced away-, but he's a strapping sailor. Mr. Shaw's meat for their masters, and the wnpabone plunderer *ud never burn their finders on him." She shook her head emphatically. "He's your hu?band, i< be, my dear: That's l>eyoi)(l doubt, I hope?" "Oh, yes, Mrs. Mead;*vc were married in a church in London three weeks ago.'' "YeVo a soft little wench, and not larncd in London ways. Are 'ee sure it was a l lunch.'" "Oh yes, indeed?a larg-- church:" ox elohni a Jenny, gazing at the old woman with r. new expression gathering in tier eyes. "Why, then, if you knows the name, and cot the bit o' pap"r they gi'os ye when folks are married-" "I do not know the name of the church. I do not think my husband ever mentioned it If any bit of paper was given to us he will have it I was ready to swoon, for fear, and took no notice of anything, so scared was L But this I have," she cried, drawing out a purso with quivering fingers and show ing a wedding ring. The old woman put it aside with a move ment of her hand. "You know if it be right wi' thee," said she; "but the ring's only worth what it 'ud fetch as gold." Something in these words, something in tho irrepressible leer that weighted the old woman's eyelids, took Jenny's breath away. Anc. then instantaneously there flashed upon her the eonse and knowledge of the false and foarful portion she w.is placed in by ovr husband's disappearance. She started to her feet "Oh, Mrs. Mead!" she half shrieked through hsr pale lips, "is it po-i?ibl< tht* ?;>>' words will not be believedf ttrea* ?'' it be thought that I am not Cnrfi ? . -'-haw's wife?" "But the ring's only worth what it 'ud fetch as gold." And then recalling her father's iron na ture, and his hard rejection of unsupported words, and his evil, unsparing habit of think ing the worst, her heart seemed to stand still, and she remained motionless and frozen, with her hands locked and her teeth clinched. "Sit down, my dear, sit down, and do not run clane daft, for there's nothing heavy the matter yet," creaked the old woman, again inspecting Jenny closely, motioning her tho while to be seated by arching her hands out j of her shoulders like a rabbit's paws. "Ii he's your sweetheart, ye must have some faith in him, and maj-be he'll be turning up in a day or two, and thon the laugh'll be on thy side. Do yo hear?'' "He is my husband," said Jenny, hi a sob bing whisper, breathing quickly. "Well, well, husband or sweetheart if ho comes hell be welcome, won't he now, doariel" "My husband!" shrie'eed the girl, with a wild stamp of the foot "Will it not be be lieved r "Why, to bo sure it will. But see. I'm an old, lorn woman, who knows the world as thy father knows the Bible?all the harm of it, my dear; and if you was my child, this woidd I say?hold thy peace about your mar riage until you can show proof, that Satan himself wouldn't doubt that young Mr. Shaw is thy husband. What! will jrou make envi ous wenches and their flabbergoon mothers believe ye by saying, 'I do not know the name of the church where I was married, and I have no bit o' paper' (tho Lard knows what them things are called) 'to prove that Mr. Shaw is my husband, and 'tis tho truth itself that ne'er a living cratur', my own father not excepting, know that I was Shaw's wife until this blessed day, when my husband hath left me to give'tho news o' my marriage alone 1'" She ceased, leering shrowdly, with a fore finger against her nose. The stunned look that hod settled upon Jenny's face while thcold woman was speak ing passed a moment or two after she ceased, and a strange and striking character was given to her beauty by an expression which it seems absurd to describe as a mingling of despair and determination, yet which as suredly suggested both these qualities. "I see that a groat trouble has come upon me; but in the sight of God my heart is puro," she said in a low but steady voice. "Mrs. Mead speak to me honestly and tell me what you think has become of my hus band." "My honesty won't ease you, my dear, and tho Lard knows I may be wrong, though folks think that it's the devil as gives mo wisdom," said the old woman, showing her fangs with a grin of ill-dissembled triumph; for in her own mind 3he had no doubt Of the motive of Cuthbcrt's disnpp'.'aranco, and was flattered with tho facile mastery that put her far ahead of tho town's surmises. "Pray answer me. I have tho heart to lis ten to anything now, Mrs. Mead" "Well," exclaimed Mrs. Mead, speaking slowly, intermitting her wonts for tho sake of filling tho spaces between with dolibera*3 nods and shakes of tho head, "they'll bo thinking this of thee?that you are not mar ried, and that Mr. Shaw hath loft you to bear your shame alone. They'll argey that tho sou of th' old popinjay up at the school houso 'ud never match with Mike Strnng fleld's darter, and that ho hath ruined 'eo with promises. And maybe they'll say that th' old doctor's in the secret, and hath got his son away slyly to savo him from the dea con, unless you shall defeat tho liars by sure proof of thy marriage, and that you must get about quickly." Jenny stood looking at h?r with a steady, vacant gaze, as though she did not heed what was being said, and, with tho same ab sent manner, was moving toward tho door. "How shall you get about it, dearie? You do not ask?" ??How!" exclaimed tho girl, pausing. "If my husband does not come to me, I am quite helpless." "'Why, who should help Ve but thy father? Lot him go to work. He hath money and strength. It 1 was his wife he'd not sit idly cursing." And at the notion of the deacon cursing, she set up a creaking laugh. But such advice was lead instead of lifo to the poor heart that heard iL "Good-by, Mrs. Mead," said she, "if you have news to comfort me, you will not keep me waiting for it?" "Trust me: 1 11 do my best. But I'll not come aucar thy house, though I had young Mr. Shaw in my arms. I'm none so dear to th' deacon I>ut that he'd bile me in his pitch caldron, could he find a reason for murderin' mo f tho bible. A-> t<> thy mammy? But there, dear heart' if I have good news you shall have it quickly." With pathetic effort to smil-j a farewell, Jenny left the house. CHAPTER XVI liEi; K vrucn-iN r?vw. Her face like marble, but with no lack of determination in it, Jenny walked down the grimy court and crossed the market place. She halted a moment to deliberate which w ay sho should take to Greystone school. She chose the way of the sands, and down to the beach she weht, with drooping head and frightened peeps at the people who passed her; for on her now was cruel sense of heavy shame, and the despair that bares the nerves of the heart for the sunshino and human eyes to tor ture. Crossing the space of shingle on which lay the fishing boats roasting in the sun, she toiled along the sand toward the ravlno ?which led to Greystone school. * When she caught sight of the schoolhouse the pulse of her heart grew smaller, and hor feot dragged. To the nervous, modest girl, whose shy spirit all the might and fire of love had scarcely endowed with bravery enough to keep her bold in secret meetings with her own husband?whose coming to him was always a sweet scamper to his heart and breathless concealment there until blushes waned under kisses, and courage roso to whispers?thoughts of an intonriew with the haughty little doctor, whose fiery prejudice Lad earned him bato and fame among th) sect she belonged to?who had hold her own Cuthbert in awo and was always named by him with fear?was terrifying, indeed. But, then, what would become of her If she had not spirit to push her quest into the pres ence of the ono man who could, If he chose (ai she believed), give her more information con cerning her husband than all the rest of the town put together? Bravely she stepped for ward under a supporting impulse, and walked firmly to the door of the house. The servant who answered the summon' happened to bo a Greystone woman, and knew Jeuny well by sight Much surprised she looked to behold the daughter following the father so quickly, for the deacon had not left the houso five minutes when Jenny ar rived. "Can I see Dr. Shaw?" "Yes, miss, I think so," replied the servant, taking it for granted that Jenny know hor father had just called. "Will you walk in, please?" Now, Dr. Shaw was at this moment ve hemently pacing the study, and revolving, with mingled emotions of horror, doubt and rage, the communication Strangfleld had made to him Five minutes is no time for such spirits as his to grow calm in; and, with a desperate frown upon his forehead, ho was muttering eagerly to himself, and in a quite audible key, when Jenny was announced. "Show her in!" ho exclaimed, astounded, and rooted himself against the tablo, con founded by this utterly unexpocted and en tirely new condition of tho trouble that had come upon him. The strange, pale beauty of Jenny's faeo, and tho hint of pride, and tho sorrowful dignity in her manner which were there through hor hard and violent effort after courage, made tho old man stare at her with unaffected surprise. Then, with an olaborato old-fashioned bow, he saluted her, and com ing round the table, placed a chair. She ad dressed him at once in a sweet, plaintivo voice, fixing her sad oyes on him. "I havo to beg your pardon for calling on you, but I am seeking my husband, whose homo is hero. They tell me he is gone; but I cannot believe that he would have left mo without sending mo a' message; and, in my sorrow, whom should I come to but my hus band's father.'?though indeed, indeed, noth ing but my misery would have made me in trude upon you." "No intrusion. Miss ? Miss Strangfleld? at least, ahem! I am so much taken by sur prise, madam, so little qualified at this mo ment to?to-" The old gentleman smothcrod his incoher ence with another bow, and, pulling out h? snuffbox, lookod shyly and frownlngly upon the floor. "It should have been Cuthbort's duty to tell you we are married. I knew ho had not done so, for last night he was to have seen father and broken the news to him; but he did not come, and this morning the}' say ho is gone. Oh, Dr. Shaw! can you tell me where hois? Do you know? Have pity on me, sir! Without him I am very, very lonely; and if he doss not bear witness to what I say I?I-" Tho poor girl broke down, biting hor lip to subdue her tears, lest tho sight 0f thorn shou'd anger the old gentleman. "I positively assure you that I am as igror ant of his whereabouts as yourself," lie re plied hastily, that she might not labor under a wrong impression ono moment longer than hb could help. "His ungrateful conduct has wounded me to the heart All lost night 1 sat up waiting for him, not doubting that he would return. But?may I ask 3*ou if you are awaro that your father has just left me?"1 Sho shook her head. "Ho and I havo been discussing tho subject, and I can only trust," continued tho doc; or, "that, to my son's unnatural conduct to his father, ho has not added a deeper, a more unpardonable, an inoxpiable offense." "I am truly his wife, sir." "Truly! Pray forgive me; I may lay rough fingers on a wound my heart would choose they should touch tenderly. But let mo ask you, when wero you married to my son?" said tho doctor, forcing his voico into a tone of suave composure; for emotion could not bo permitted to qualify his dear delight in asserting his eleganco and brooding. "Three weeks ago," replied Jenny anxious ly, with her heart boating painfully, for she feared tho next question. "Ho was in London threo weeks ago. He went for a littlo holiday, as at that time I suspected his depression, or absent fits were owing to tho monotony of our scholastic dis cipline. Wero you in London thon?" "No, sir; I was at Sydenham stopping with my aunt Rachel. I met Cuthbert, by ap pointment, on a Wednesday morning at the bottom of the hill on the road to Dulwich, and thcro we took tho coach that passed and afterward, when wo reached London, ho put mo into a hackney coaeli and wo drove to a church, where wo were married.'' Tho doctor applied a pocket handkerchief to his forehead. "A strange rascal 1"' he muttered to himself. "I had never given him credit for so much duplicity." And then he sighed and looked through the window and, recollecting him Belf, forced his voico into suavity once mor 1 and said: , "I represented to your father that nothing could be easier than to prove your marriage. If, as I do not doubt," (with a bland wave of the hand) "you are my son's wife, I?! scarcely know whether there 1? cause to offer you my congratulations. Sinco ho has played his father a vile trick there is nothing to binder him from deceiving you. But each to Iiis kind; you to your father, to whom yon arc accountable, and my son to me?when lie chooses to return." His whole manner had changed with th. - words, and ho addressed her with an icy hauteur of gaze. Jenny looked at him fixedly for sonic :? i ments, with a wonderful gaze of mi:.; I consternation ami disdain, and rose. "I did not come here in expectation uf ? ing sympathy or Sadness," she excluiniv with a bitterness that took a keener acidulji tion from the very beauty that should hav failed to warrant it. "You know *-.};..? daughter I am: and what you think of : . father Cuthbert has often told me. I h.v called to know if you can give me liding my husband. Doubt my honor as you !>!??:? sir, but in God's name, answer me my iju tion."' "I have answered that question," he i plied. "Many of the elder boys of tho school a: several of the men were dispatched by i: this morniug to search tho shore and tl. neighborhood, and likewise- are inquiries stii being made in places beyond Greyatone. If I obtain information, bo sure that I shall cause it speedily to be conveyed to you. Should he evor return," he continued, in slightly depressed tones, "this trouble ho lias brought upon you is an account to be settled between him and m^ with an adjusting he will not relish." She was standing near the door, and he was raising his hand to pull the boll; but sbg had not done with him yet. The change in his manner from the blandness to hauteur, from a kind of tenderness, at least, to a de meanor of blank indifference to her sorrow, deepened her doubt of his sincerity, and, fail ing to find in this old man any such sorrow big after his son as should prove him honest to her own mourning haart, a feverish sus picion thai he wlT ?oloffig fees the tnith seized her. "You can tell mo, sir, that he baa not left mo for good I 8ay somo little word to give me hope I For his sake, Dr. Shaw?he loves me truly!" she cried, with her hands olasped. Tha doctor was affronted by her doubt of him, for it was plain In her recurrent appeal "I have answered that I am as Ignorant as you?perhaps more ignorant," he said, f rbwn fng at her. "Lsst night," she continued, too bitterly yearning after hope to be abashed by his mannor, or even to heed the cruel suggestive neca of his words, "he was to have seen jTathor. This be promised, and I was to watch for him at my window. Oh, sir, he would not have bid mo wait for him had be meant to deceive mo; for, indeed, he loves me fondly. A gentleman from this school, who called on mother this morning, said that ho had seen him leave your house in the evening; and to father he was coming?oh, be sure I Who stopped him, then? Was he followed and sot upon? If he had died, or by an accident been killed, his body would havo been found. Do you know where ho is! Tell me, sir! Tho Lord God, who hoars mo doclare it, judges me; and before Him I swear thy son was my husband 1" Now, but for the continued and affronting suspicion informing the girl's words, this piteous appeal, taking tragic pathos from wild dry eyes and outetrotched hands and shrill intensity of tone, must havo roused the doctor though his heart of flesh had been as hard as a pet prejudice. But he was so oxtremoly mortified to find his word?his word, too!?doubted by this wench, that anger camo down on all kindly stirrings with a weight of lead, and false perceptions pricked him. For who was this woman but pigheaded Strongfiold's daughter? And might not all this bother be a mere trick of tho enemy?n plot speedily hatched out of Cuthbert's strange disappearance, to moritfy the dignified cul tured, well-bred foe of dissent, and champion of orthodoxy and divine rights? He rang the bed. "A direct answer had been given you," he said, "and you must excuse mo for declining to continue this conversation. I trust, madam, for your own sake, that you will be able to establish tho fact of your honorable connection with my son." And, with dislike and contempt on his face, ho made her a short bow. Without another word sho passed through tho door, which the servant held open, and left tho house. . CHAPTER XVII. HOHE AOAIW. She walked slowly down tho hot and dusty road toward tho town. Now, far moro keenly than before her visit to tho school house, aid she feel" the bitterness of her troubla Along the dusty road sho went?the high crops motionless on either hand, the land around (in sheen of silver barley and yellow whf-a*i 'and the lustrous green of meadow grass/ trembling in the steam of the swelter ing earth?and felt a homeless woman, un loved, and sinful, too. Sho came at last to tho shadow of the way side trees under which she had met Cuthbert; and Jaore, with no eye to see her, and passion ate memories crowding piteous misery into her aching heart, sho stopped and flung her self upon the grass, and tried to roliovo her burning eyes with tears. A long while she lingorod hero, dreading to return home. Tijno passed rapidly and unheeded, and the shadows of the trees had grown woll into the road when she roso to her feet, disturbed by tho town clock striking tho half-hour after three. The thought of mooting her father was almost unbearable; yet homo sho must go, for where was other shelter for herf Beforo this time hor fear of the deacon was in his anger, when ho should learn that she had deceived him by her secret marriage. Nothing moro had her innocence then to dread; though rnough had been here to furnish her with dismal contempla tion and trembling apprehension, and an insupportatto yearning for tho permanent companionship of her husband, that discov ery might never catch her without tho prop of his lovo and presenco at hand for her weakness. But now her husband was gone, and, by going, had left hor exposed to dread ful suspicion. Ho was gone, and she was loft alono to justify her purity, to encounter tho wrath of her father, stirred to his deepest heart by infamous doubt What, then, was she to do? for when she fell to consider how sho should prove her marriage, sho found another blank as mad deningly porploxing as Cuthbert's disap pearance Sho well romcmbered tho marriage morn; how, with a faint voice and pale face, sho told aunt Rachel she was going for a walk, and bado her not bo surprised if she delayed hor return, for she loved tho protty scencry around, and to liugor among tho trees. She well remombered the boating of hor heart when, at tho bottom of the deep and shady lane, sho behold Cuthbert waiting for her, and how she had nearly swooned when ho hailed tho passing coach to Southwark, I and handed her into it Likewise she well remembered how they I had emerged into a crowded street, along which he had hurried her into another strset, I where he called a hackney carriage, and they I wero driven down interminable streets at which sho never glanced, for her white faco was hidden on Cuthbert's shoulder, and she had needed all the cordial of his constant, passionate, reassuring whispers to save her from fainting. And how at last tho carriage Stopperl be fore a church?a gloomy, heavy, city edifice ?so that it seemed to her that they had .to ! grope their way along tho avenue of high ? pews to the altar railing, where speedily a I thin voice read the service that made her the ; wife of the man at her side. The acted portion of it all was a vague memory; her love for the man who had in duced her k> secretly wod him was only reality. Four o'clock was chiming when she reached home. Ljii^ before this had Mrs. Strang fiold grown weary of watching *ut the win dow, and with deep anxiety had gone back to so k the ^iii in the town. Polly was sing in tho kitehen as sho scrubbed the flour, so that Mr. Strangflcld in tho parlor did not hem" Jenny enter, nor hor light footstep ns she vv*ml upstairs. ; her bedroom door she halted, with such i! il ? k of surprise and consternation as tho sight of a dead mau might have produced on her: forali abouttlip window the floor was lit tered with her husband's sacred letters, heed lessly tossed and lying open, with their rib bon-bin iin^s among them. Sho well knew whose hand had done this, and. recovering herself, entered the room. closed the door and removed her hat, moving softly, and all tho while looking at the letters. This done, she knelt down and gathered to gether the precious missives, pressing them often to her pale lips, and narrowly inspect ing tho carpets for bits of the dry forget-me nots and other fragments of flowers which had fallen from the letters under Strangfleld's angry handling of them Scarcely had she replaced the papers In her desk when she heard her father's steps on the stairs. He entered his bedroom, but speedily emerged, being struck, perhaps, to And Jenny's door closed. Ho turned the handle sharply and ex claimed: "Ah, you bo bare, then* Your mothoRhas gouo to look f? WtL rob a/o^aupfao ticed In .treadihg softly. Whero have you boenl" "I have been to the schoolhouso to seek my husband," she a^werea, returhiiwW storn gozo with a look 6f despairing resolution. "And you have not found hlm?^ "No, father, no!" she replied, with a shriok in her voice. "If he be your husband, why has be left you?" ho said, speaking as a judge might in preface to condemning a man to death. Sho shook her head and locked her twitch ing fingers, no longer meeting his oyes, for tho bitterness in them was insupportable. He approached tho bod and leaned heavily upon the frame of it "Woman! in my heart you are condemned for treachery to mo and your mother. Yet I have said to myBelf, in the words of the Preacher, 'Bo not hasty in thy spirit to bo angry!' and now, if you find mo so, you shall rebuke mo. Jenny, for what you havo this day told your mother, I hato my own flesh that you should be a part of it Yet I will be merciful You shall provo to mo that you sin is not tho dishonor of your parent's name, nor tho destruction of your soid in the eyes of Almighty God Do you heed mo? You shall prove this." Sho mado no answer. "Speak!" ho cried "Show me how this may bo done." She looked at him with terrified eyes, for no courage that sho had could combat her instinctive fear of him Ho waited for her reply. "Tell mo what I am to do, father?indeed, I will obey you. I am truly his wife. God, who hears mo, knows that I am not sneaking falsely. With this ring ho wedded mo, father." And with trembling hand pho sought in her pocket for her purse. "Nay, nay, I havo no wish to see it Such a matter signifies nothing. Better tricks than such tokens cannot fool old oyes. Tell me where you wero married." "In London, father." "Ay, In London. At what church?" "I do not know tho name; it has slipped my memory. Or my husband novor men tioned it" sho ropliod, with an expression on her faco that should havo told hor father to press her no further. "By whom were you married?" "I did not see?I was frightened Tho church was d -k, and I did not lift my oyes, and wo wero but a moment signing our names." A look of savage Incredulity?tho skepti cism of a man stirred to tho most hidden and deadly forces of his nature?shot into hLs face. He gazed at her for somo moments in silence, and then, in a voice that, for the hollowness of it, sounded as though it rose from under his foot, said: "It is as I before said?you remember noth ing. Eut their wedding is a thing all womon remember; and it is strange you should so soon forget yours, when your mothor will toll you everything that befell on her wed ding day, twenty-threo years ago. Would you know tho church if you saw it?" "Yes, father, I?I think so?I do not know, father." "To-morrow you and I will go to London," said ha "Mako up a little box of things, for thL<? business may keep us. In tho morning, at seven, we start Bo in readiness!" "To-morrow you and I will go to London.*' Without another word he left the room. Sho leaned against tho wall near the win dow, and her heavy eyelashes drooped over the sorrowful beauty of her eyes. So stand ing, and with her graceful profile taking a delicate transparency from the light shining through tho window, and tho soft fulness of hor perfect form ripely figured on tho whito ground of paper that supported her, never more lovely had shu looked; and the shim mer of her yellow hair was the trembling of evening sunshine on tho water. Deep grief is always quiescent, and the deepest grief was shrined in this gontlo woman. That she was not guiltless only made her sorrow tho more moving. She had erred in deceiving father and mother, in privily, without homo's blessing, undertaking I the sacred obligation of marriage. Yet how hardly was she dealt with! how cruel the in ' terpretation of a deed of faithful love! And why had Cuthbert left her.' How bitterly hard that any act of hit should be beyond tho skill of her heart to construe! Yet her glorious fidelity could not hold him faith less. In this wise thinking, with an impulsive movement she drew forth her purse and slipped her wedding ring on, kissed it wildly, and, with a quick toss of her hands, foil with face upon the bed, weeping bitterly. This posture was she in when her mother entered the room. The poor woman ran to Lev quickly. "You Lave come back, my darling: Where hast thou been all this long time? Jenny, do not cry so- my heart will break if you grieve in this way. Has father been saying unkind things to theu, inv pretty: Come, come, it is net all hopsasa yet. Truly f Iwlieva that Mr. Shaw i> thy husband; and be sure, bo sure ho will return, for no man with his lx auty is heartless, and ho would not havo married thee, .Tenny, to leave thee in this way!" She raised the girl from the bed and lud her to R chair, and, kneeling by her, pillowed her iiead in her bo-<om. "Oh* mother, is it not too cruel that I should lose my husband and be doubted by father: To-morrow ho means to take me to Loudon to show him the church; for ho will cot Bella vo ma wiffiout dragging" mo a weary jouraay. And God knows what I shall do when we reach London, for I do not remem ber the name of the church, nor tho street where It stands, and I have told him I was too scared to tako notice. And would not a young girl like me bo frightened, mother, In that great place, and acting wrongly, al though I was with my darling?" "To-morrow does he take you to London 1 Oh, what a strango, hard man! Why, all day you will bo traveling; and cannot he see that you have no strength?" cried Mrs. Strangfleld, rising from her knees; and, with a hot, indignant look, she swept out of the room, and wont to her husband, whom she found- in tjho act of quitting tho house. "Michael, 1 must speak to thee. What are you going to do with Jenny? If you break her heart you will kill us both, and that in deed you are doing 1" she cried, shrilly. With his hand on the latch of the house door he stared at her with a contemptuous sternness, then with a stride made for the parlor, and closed the door upon them both. "Jane, subdue your voice, and speak to me respectfully. You are tho girl's mother, end I will listen to you; but I am her father, and mine is tho name she has blasted. Do you heed that? It is Michael Strang field's daugh ter whom the people ore talking about Re member this, and now say your mind." "For shame! for shame! to speak of her as haviug blasted your name!" replied Mrs. Strangfleld, quite unablo to control hor voice. "Hath 9ho not told you that Mr. Shaw is her husband.' Tho wedding ring is now on her finger?as good a ring as this?and if she be not on honorablo wife, then my name is my father's. What! you would take tho poor heart to London, when sho declares that in her fright sho took no notice of tho street and church! Would not a stout spirit be scared by what sho did, with thee, as her father, to terrify her conscience? Why, myself, when you are hazing mo with your strong voice, lose my head and know not what I am about And shall our littlo wench have stronger brains than her mother?at a time, too, which makes tho best of women tremble and koop their eyes down in modesty and awe, though their parents are with them and kind friends to give them heart for the journey! For shamo! to doubt her! What think you Is her sin?" "Understand this!" ho shouted with fury, and his eyes in a blazo; "if she says she knows not tho church whoroin she was mar ried, nor can show it me, nor tho book wherein their naraes should bo written, nor the man that married them, and hath no more ovidence than a ring which a crown piece would buy for any harlot, I'll know hor for what she is?and no tears from her, nor insolence from thee, shall change me!" Sho held out her hands in tho attitude of ono fending off aa attack. "Never could 2 havo believed it of thee, Michael!" she said, In a voice of indescribable reproach, and turned to leavo him. "Stay!" he commanded "Before you go, give mo your reason for opposing mo." Too insulted by his words about her child to confront him, she replied: "She has not tho strength to travel to Lon don; and why would j'ou tako her there? Sho tells theo plainly she will not know tho church, though she see it, and its name was never mentioned to hor by Mr. Shaw." "You bolieve her?" he said, with deep tdned sarcasm. "As I believe In the Lord!" cried tho mother, eagorly, turning her swimming eyes upon him. "You shall credit her if you please, but your faith in her innocence does not purify her. Givo mo proof of her honosty, and, though I scorn hor for her deceit, yet you shall see mo uso her gontly. Am I to stand still under this shamo that has come upon mo and mine, and make no effort to clear it away, "that our light may shino again before men! Sho does not lack strength to seek her husband, and slnco noon has she been wan dering in the heat Though we had to travel a thousand miles for proof of her honor, would tho journey bo too long? Lot God for give her for sonding mo in my old age from my home, to clear hor name of foul suspicion ?If it can be done I Go now and repeat my words to her, and lot her be In readiness to start with mo at tho hour I named. No more!" he cried, with a stamp of tho foot, . holding up his band. "Too much have you already said Bid her keop to her room, for IH not meet her this day." And passing his wifo, ho flung open the door and left the house. "The Lord have mercy upon him, and for give him his sin?," moanod poor Mrs. Strong* field to herself. Not immediately could sho return to Jenny. S'jo had bargained on controlling her hus band, by her appeal, from taking the girl to London, and, being defeated, wanted timo to recover her heart to meet tho poor child. Sho must have a good cry before sho went to her; and cry sho did, heartily thinking all tho whllo of the proud position sho might hold as Cuthbert's mothor-in-law?tho envy of all tattlers?if Michael would only toko things quietly and leave her to manage a bit (TO IJE CONTIXl'JilJ.) For Sale 4 VALUABLE PLANTATION i V eight miles east of town on the Fivo Chop road. Contains ."00 acres of land, 1?0 or which is under cultivation, and remain der well wooded with pine, oak, hickory, &c. Besides dwelling and other necessary buildings, all of which are in excellent con dition, there is a well appointed|isteam gin, saw and grist mill, with power cotton press, seed crusher, cotton elevator, wagon scales and cut off saw. On the place is an excel lent can) pond, stocked with scale carp (the only pond in this count}-, to my knowledge, that has raised carp.) Tins place is excel lently located in the center of a thickly settled neighborhood, there-by possessing excellent advantages as a location for phy sician. This place with .stock and all other appurtenances, together with crop made upon it this year, except cotton crop, will be sold on terms to suit purchaser. Apply to W. s. IJaktox, M. I). "Starwall" Farm. Orangelmrg, S. C. June iMmo lVeNleynn l-'eiiial*: En>iit:Uc, STAUN TON. VIRGINIA, / U'KXS SiilTEMJiKR 22d, ISS?. \J One of the first schools for young Ladies in the Union. All Departments thorough. Buildings elegant. Steam heat. Gas light. Situation beautiful. Climate splendid. Pupils from nineteen States. All important advantages in one greatly reduced charge. Board, Washing, Lights, LngiiMi, Latin, Kreuch. German, Music, for Scholastic year, from Septemhcrto June, .sjoo. No Extras. For Catalogue, write to UlSV. W.M. A. HARRIS, D. D.. President July s-:;ino. Staunton, Virginia. PLYMOUTH ROCK COCKERELS FJtOM PIMZE WINNING STOCK. i RARE ( Ii AM V. TO GET A 1 \ fine Bird. Price, only 51.23 In high Cage, delivered at Express ollice. Send at once, only a few to spare. Address, Ii. E. CLARK, July l-Mt Km I Motte, S.O. n. H. moss. <". 0. DANTZLEB uss vv DANTZLEIl, M attorneys at law, ORAKGEUUBG, s. C.