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FORGED APART By W. CLARK RUSSELL. Author of the "Wreck of the Grosvenor,'' ''A Sailor7* Sweetheart;' Etc. CHAPTER XXIL ALOXE. Upstairs lay Jenny, in the deep slum Oer ??which profound weariness in youth begets; I the solemn sleep that, like death, smooths the countenance into an expression for which human knowledge has no definition. With out a stir itt her sho lay, and the mysterious sweetness of her face was a sight for love to look upon with fear. Suddenly she started, and awoke with one of tho o quick leaping from sleep which tho Sleepless f oul will force the body into, and sat erect, with a frown of bewilderment, and her beautiful eves alarmed and eager. She had no watch to tell the hour, but upon the carpet lay a streak of sunshine, and tho mel low glory of it was a hint to draw- her quickly to the window. The sun was high, and a splendor as of noontide upon the land. In sure belief that she had overslept the hour for the passing of the coach, she took her hat iu her hand and went downstairs. Tho first thing sho beheld was tho big Dutch clock just beside tho door; the hands of it pointed to the quarter past ten, so that Marples was not to be reached that day without posting. With her eyes fixed upon tho clock, sho stood oh tho last step of the staircase, and her baffled intentions plainly showed in the wonder and embnrrassm?nt of her face? until Mrs. Walker threw open the glass door of the bulkhead dividing tho passage from what would now be termed the bar, and, dropping her a little courtesy, hoped that she was tho better for her rest. "But I have missed tho couch, 1 fear," said Jenny, "if that clock be right" "It is right enough, ma'am. But Mrs. Mead is in the parlor, and will tell thee how this hr.pp'd, if she be not sleeping," replied Mrs. Walker, .with something like a look of 'contrition on her- face, if .t were not nervous ness. Without further words Jenny pushed open the parlor door, and there, sure enough, at full length upon the sofa, was Mrs. Mead asleep. But Jenny was in straits which would not permit of tender thoughtfulnes3. Sh8 wanted to know why she had been allowed to mis* tho coach, and what she was now to do. And so gave Mrs. Mead a push, which set tho old woman talking in her sleep. "Ay, ay, thee need'st not bother?the Lord love 'ee?an' it's as true as this hand?yawl" "Mrs. Mead! Mrs. Mead!" Tho old woman oponed her eyes, stared at Jenny, lifted hor head, gave a terrific yawn, and, planting her loose knuckles into the net work about her eyes, exclaimed in a smoth ering voice, "Tv9 bin cs!e?p, I do believe 1" "Mrs. Mead, it's a quarter past ten, and the coach has been gone this long wh le. Uh, why was I allowed to sleep! 1 shall not get away this day; and here must I stop, for I have not money enough to hire a post: chase!" . cried Jenny. ."Sit down, ndstress, and think a bit before ye quarreL For maybe I'll be showing ye that it's no fault o1 mine ye've mi-sed the coach, and thca how sorrowful would your heart be for being angry with Mother Mead, who loves you,"said the o d woman, continu ing to rub her eye* until all tho sleep was squeezed out of them. "Sally, SeJly!" sho squeaked; and nn Mrs. Walker running in, Mrs. Me:ut exhorted her toprocuro breakfast at once lor Jenny, and to look in upon them ogain presently, which was as good as say ing, ''Don't listen now, at all events." "You must not think I could be angry with you," said the girl, mournfully, ' but it is a sad thing for me to lose the coach; for I hoped to bo with Bridget this day, and in a quiet place, where I could think ho iv I am to act in the future." "And what's to stop you thinking here?" exclaimed Mrs. Mead. "Isn't it quiet enough??for hours together yo shall hear no sound but the hens talking and scraping in tho road. Besides, it's nearer thy home nor Marides. And Jenny, Mrs. Jenny! I'll own to thee it's my fault ye missed t' coach; and it were my wish yo should. What did I say to 'ee last night? Dreadful scandal will follow you when folks hear you have roon away, and I will not help theo to ba foolish." Jenny looked at her with astonishment and fear. . Whatever force the objection might still posses?, sh'< thought that Mrs. Mead had put it aside for good und all when she offered to walk with her to Winston. "Give yourself time to think," continued the old woman. "If yo should have a mind to return to your mother, 'tis an cusy walk from here; if you will still go forward, then the coach will be at this door to-morrow morn. But ye ba taking a mighty step in quitting h"me without iver letting a cratur' but me know wiiero you've gone. It's be cause I love you that I've let you miss the coach, and given you a whole day for reflec tion wi' thy home closo at hand." "My mind is quite .mado up," said Jonuy, moving restlessly about the room.' "I will not return homo." "Well, that you say now, but by and by you will bo thinking another way." "I am grieved to havo missed tho coach, but I am not angry," sho went on, in a sub- | dued but firm tone. "It will bo dull work for mo here all day; for I suppose you will return to Greystoue?" The old woman nodded. Jenny looked at her hard. "Mrs. Mead, be frank with me. What do you mean to do.' Shall you toll mother whore I am?" "I'll not answer ye," replied the old woman rather sulkily, not liking Jenny's sharpness. "You have sworn to keep my secret," said the girl reproachfully. "Suppose the first man I met in the street should be Mr. Shaw cried tho old woman, in a shrill voice. Jenny turned to the window and looked through it in silence. "See now, my dearie," said Mrs. Mead mildly; "will ye let me judge how to act for you? If you were my child I could not wish you better than I do; and thy fame, which must be the dearest thing a woman hath, is my reason for hindering your journey this day. Neither you nor me knows what is being said i' Grey stone, and things may hap to-day to make 'ee thankful you had nut all the way from Marples to come, Bide hero while I go to Greystone. I'll find out ubout thy mother, and how she beurs thy going, and what is said of thee, and all that should be known. And to-night will I return with what news there is; mid it shall cither bo that you return to thy home again, or go straight on into tho world, as shall seem best on what report I bring you." If Mis. Mead had said this at first, Jenny would have understood her motives. But, says an ancient pdage: "When you iiear an old woman talk straight, you shall see your cow walk on its hind legs." "There may bo good sense In what you say," replied Jenny, who had turned from tho window and stood with her fine eyes fixed on Mrs. Mead; "and here will I stop tOl you come back. But truly I do not know that any news you could bring should take me home again. For when father misses me his anger will bo terrible, and not to save my lifo would I face him without prcof that I am an honest girL " At this moment Mrs. Walker came in with Jenny's breakfast. She chose to preparo the table herself, that she might have a good sight of the young wife; for Jenny was a wonderful heroine in the hostess' eyes, and created a chance for imagination to chew upon that deserved to be made much of. "Your papa is known to me, ma'am," said .she, courtes3ring, in token that the breakfast was ready. "I heerd him preach a sermon once?nay, it wecr a lecture, as I remember ?in St. Martin's hall, down Beach street, in 3*our town. lie hath a strong voice, and is a fine man, as I think. Is he quite wcllF With a sad smile Jenny answered her; and as she seated herself at the table, Mrs. Mead asked Sally about the wagon that was to carry her to Grey stone. "Johnny shall put the horse t<? when it pleases ye," replied Sally. "Tho sooner the better," said the old woman. . ? The so-called wagon was a small metamor phosed cart, with a canvas hood, and wheels stout enough to support a horse. In tea minutes' time it was at the door, and on the near shaft of it sat, with his hobnail boots within a foot ot the, road, a sour-faced man, who sucked an inverted pipe, and doggedly combed horseflies off th3 rough hido of tho horso with a -whip. Sally camo into tho parlor to announce it, and Mrs. Mead at once got up and put on her old bonnet and shawl. "I shall find ye here when I come back?" said she, interrogatively, holding Jenny's hand. "Yes, I will wait for you," replied the girl, wearily, with the now familiar absent look in her .eyes. The old woman hobbled out of tho room after her friond, and, with a hard expression of misery on her face, Jenny went to the sofa and leaned her head upon it. CHAPTER XXIIL MRS. MEAD RETURNS TO GUEYSTONE. "I know I'm doln' right Niver could-1 hold up my head if they got saying it were Judith Mead as helped Michael's girl to roon away and leavo her character behind her," said Mrs. Mead to herself as the wagon drove off; and upon a loosened truss of hay sho sat, right in the center of tho vehicle, staring Out of tho shadow at tho protty little inn that was dropping behind. It was eleven o'clock when they arrived at tho top of the High street-of Greystone. "ThlslI do, mister," exclaimed Mrs. Mead, who had no opinion of Johnny as a driver, and was weary of the jolting inflicted or. her, and the miserably slow way they made; "ye needn't go no further." Johnny, however, refused to take any notice of her request. There was an a!e house some distance down tho street, and not until the wagon wa; abreast of it did he cry, "Whoa!" Then dropping from his perch, with a trifle of briskness In tho action, ho camo round to tho back of tho cart, and said, "Ye can get down hero if ye loiko." The oil woman scrambled down as best sho could, and Johnny lockod on with a grin at her boots. Tho 1 correcting his smile as sho faced round, upon him, ho said: "This here's the Wheatshea', and th.- flovey in the liquor is as foine as though 'twar all roon stoof." "Ye'ro welcome to drink as much as iver they'll trust ye with," replied Mrs. Mead tartly. "Aren't yo goin' to stand summatf cried the man. "Yes, half a pint o' vinegar, if yo're good to drink it," answered tho old woman. ? "Go along, or I'll get ye drownt for a witch," shouted tho disappointed Johnny; mid off ho wont, chuckling audibly. Not ten yards, however,'could she go with out meting an acquaintance. "Who should this bo but old Mrs. Brat?, going to hor snuff shop in Georgo street, with her dinner in a paper parcel. "Good mqrnin', Mrs. Mead. How are you? 'Tis an age sin I soon ye my way." "I'm middlin' well, thank 'ee, Mrs. Bruit. As to comiu' j-our way, what hath snulf to Bay to a lone old cratur' that counts her val ley in fardens* The tiles, thej' do tickle, truly. Them and tho dogs knows what's good," exclaimed Mrs. Mead, with a glance at the paper parcel. "And doth not tho par son say that prosperity draws strange things to it.'" "Ye'ro aOora quizzing, Mrs. Mead. Pros perity, indeed! Five mid fourpence was my airnings last week; scarce three; loaves in it thanks to them wagabone French, as it's a mussy for them I ain't a man." "Well, and ye give me no news? That two gossips should roast i' this heat with nothing to say! But they're wonderful liars i' Grey stone," said Mrs. Mead. "News?to ther.!" cried Mrs. BrufT, with a ludicrous to-s of the head. "Why, here I stand for truth; f' r, as you say, they're dreadful liars i' Greystone." "The truth u what.'-' "But you know!" exclaimed Mrs. Bruff, looking at her old companion with absurd incredulity in her face. "I do not know," replied Mrs. Mead, with tho eagerii'-ss of a born gossip. "I am this minute arrived from Winston, and if any thing hath happ'd I'm as strange to it as a unborn infant." "Why, then," said Mrs. Bniff, speaking slowly, and with evident sense of superiority, "it's everywhercs towd that Mike Strong field's wench hath run away for shamo o' the wrong done her by Dr. Shaw's son. But that's not it, neither. Not twenty minutes since, 1 met Deacon Skelton, who says to me, 'Is it true, Mrs. Bruff, that my brother Strangfleld is dead.' 'The Lord forbid,' I says. 'I hope not, Mr. Skelton.' 'I'm afeard he is, then,' he says. 'Jim Mason,' he says, him as keeps the Blue Postescs, had the news from Tom Rafiles, us is cousin to tho Strang fields' servint; Polly her name is. ' She was sent for the doctor, but came fust In fright to her mother?who's kept her bed sin' April, poor wretch?an' says that Strangfield's fell down in a fit, and's a dead man.' 'Lord bless me, sir!' says I." "That's news indeed!" exclaimed Mrs. Mead, very pale, and catching up her dress. "If it's true, it's as strange a Visitation a.? any that iver I read of in Hoi}- Writ. Good by to ye. You've put me in a hurry, Mrs. Bruff. Lord save us! what wonderful things happen in this life!" She was limping rapidly away before Mix. Bruff could return her farewell. She was too experienced a gossip herself to believe in the accuracy of any story related: but then, likewise, sho well knew that almost never does any story get abroad without foundation. They may say there's a flam" where there is only a spark: but be sure there is fire of snm" kind. Hastily down the street she wont. Ar rived at her home, she washed her face, brushed her hair, dusted her bonnet nnd shoos, and, glancing at tho cupboard, to make sure of a bit of dinner to be cooked on her return, sho sallied forth onco more, and walked direct to Strangfield's house. No outward and visible sign there was of anything being amiss. Mrs. Mead knocked softly, and, with un easiness bred in her by tho disliko boro her by the Strangflelds, kept herself close, that she might not be spied by any sideways glanco from the window. No one respond ing, sho kne-cked again loudly, and presently the door was opened by Mrs. Strangfleld herself. The desolate white and grief of tho poor woman's face was indeed something heart moving to behold. The utter fbrlorimess of the eyes, tho piteous droop of tho mouth, the dishevelment of hair and attire, which into ,grief throws a violent dramatic element, were bcyon I expression. She looked at Mrs. Mead, while the old lady bobbed a courtesy, as a person to whom everything that offers has a meaning cruelly hard to master. "God forbid, mistress," said Mrs. Mead, "ye should think I nm come out of evil curi osity. They "say the deacon hath been stricken ill, and positively would I know this from one who hath the truth." "Why do you come here for news? This is a house of mourning now. 1 am a dcsolato, lonely woman. Hen von holp me," replied Mrs. Siraiigfield in a broken voice. "So, indeed, yo l?o, if it is only for your daughter's loavin' yo." said Mrs. Mead, with deep compassion. '"But what liuth bapp'd to the deacon! For the Lord's sake let mo hear it of yen. ma'am!" "He hath been struck with paralysis, and lie.-: dying and calling for his daughter. That is the truth. And now must I go to him, for your knock has brought me from his bed, and the maid is away on an errand, and 1 am alone in the houso." She spoke wiih stolidity of exhausted grief, and was stepping back to close tho door. '?Stay!" cried Mrs. Mead, "I bring thee news of thy child." The mother wheeled round with a shriek, and with both hands seized her arm. <;What of her? Is she living?" "Living and well. Not an hour ago I left her." Mrs. Strongfield had no words. The sudden dispersion of the fears that had torn her heart was a moral convulsion that deprived her of speech. She stood with her fingers clutching hard the old woman's arm. Then incoherently she spoke. "Sweet girl! How hath she been wronged I My pretty one! Alive, indeed, and 1 have been praying for thee. Oh, what a sorrow to befall the pure in heart! God forgive us!" She drooped and leaned toward Mrs. Mead, and brought up the old hand to her mouth and kissed it, weeping the while such tears as only mothers weep. "Alive and well! sho burst out again. "D.^r.r heart, to bring me such good tidings! Come in, como in! God is good to send thee! Dear heart, what joy you give me!" Tf Ith drops trickling down her furrowed check, Mrs. Mead suffered herself to bp drawn into the houso hy the passionate mother. "Quick, now, dear friend," cried Mrs. Strongfield, feverishly. "Tell me where my girl is! Is sho in Greysronc?? Oh, my poor heart!" "Sho is at Winston, at the Greyhound there, and you mun go and fetch her, and toll her what b!ggr hath fallen on thoe, or she will not retoorn. Oh, she is bitter?and rightly so!" quavered tho old woman, in a voice strangely composed of indignation and sympathy. "Niver, sho swears, will sho come to her home again, to be despised and thought vilely of. For her dying father she may come?but you must fetch her, mis tress." "Come! Oh, sho will como when sho sees my face, and hears that her father lies moan ing for her. Besides, hath not Dr. Shaw proved hor a married woman ? Ay, this very morniug, Mrs. Mead, he camo to bring us written proof of my Jenny's marriage with Cuthbert Shaw! But how can I leave my husband?" sho cried, distractedly. "Tho doctor says ho must be watched. And how can I fetch my Jenny and be wdth my poor Michaeli" "Well, woll! truly provod married! And sho hath told no lies, then?" gasped Mrs. Mood. "Tho Lord forgive yo for all tho pain you have given her. What didst thee say?? thy husband wants nursing? While ye'ro gono I'll watch by him. I've nursed a many i' my time. Hath he his mind?" "Yes; he lies still?ho has no power in one arm?and he groans sadly. He calls for Jenny, and? O'a, Mrs. Mead! if I am not quick ho may nover see her again in this world. Dear Mrs. Mead, since you will stop, run up to him now, dear heart, while I get my bonnet. I will bo very quick. Do you mind, I have < ourago to bo quick since sho is liviug. Straight up, Mrs. Mead, to the right j Stay, I will show thee. Oh, God grant him a little lifo!" Sho ran upstairs swiftly, yet with light I feet, and Mrs. Mead wont laboriously, quiv ering and stumbling after her. Outside tho J door quite clearly was tho groaning of tho man heard He lay on his back looking to ward tho wall, and in the gloom of tho room his face was scarcely distinguishable from tho pillow for the whiteness of it. ? With.finger on her lip Mrs. Strangflcld mo tioned to Mrs. Mead to take tho chair by tho Iiedside; and, nimbly appareling herself, she came to tho old woman's ear ami breath lessly delivered instructions. They wero simple enough, and to Mrs. Mead's discretion was left tbe explanation of her pres^nco if Strangfield should observe her. But, truly, there scorned little, chance of this; never onee, sincj lifted from the parlor floor and laid upon the bed, had he stirred, and 'that should be over three hours. At regulur in terval-; Ii- groaned, and as. his-wife glided out of the room he called for Jenny. CHAPTER XXIV. JENNY AND HEU MOTIIEK. Just out of High street, not a stone's throw from tho church, lived Mr. Franklin, who owned the Swiftsuro coach that plied between Greystone and the old city on tho road to London. He was a juiddin^-faced man, and shaped like a ball in that part of his body which the band of his breeches circled; and he stood, with his legs wide apart, sucking a straw at the gateway of his }'ard, wherein, under sheds, stood his rolling stock, when Mrs. Strangfield breathlessly came to him, and besought him, with clasped, entreating hands, instantly to order out one of his coaches, that she might be driven to Win ston. Now, fortunately for her, Franklin was a prompt man; and reading urgency in tho poor woman's desperate face, he gave a shrill whistle, und out from a little office tumbled a knock-kneed hostler. "Numlier Two, Jeremy, and Sarah's your gal. Lot Thomas scrape hisself, and tell him the leddy's waiting," said Mr. Franklin; and with dispatch that would pleasure this electric age to experience, a coach rattled up to the gate. "To the Greyhound, at Winston, as quick as ever you can gallop," cried Mrs. Strang field; and in a trico the heavy-wheeled vehi cle was scattering loungers in the roadway on to the pavements, and making the shop windows clink to the thunder of its progress. Still, it was a half-hour's drive, and a fcer ribly hustling one. At last the village hove in sight; a littlo row of cottages swept by, ami the coach came to a stand in front of the glass door of the Greyhound inn. The man descended from the box of the coach, though already she was spraining her wrLst in desperate efforts to open the door for herself; and no sooner was sho liberated than sho flew into the arms cf Sally, who, having caught sight of tho coach from a window, was running to tho door. "Are you tho mistress i" said Mrs. Strang field, in a wild way. "Yes, I be, ma'am," replied Sally, with a civil courtesy. "Is there a lady here?" "Av: an' you be her mother, I reckon." "i "am her wother. Take rae to her at once." Though Sally had been fortified with a dozen scrupLs, they would have been help lessly swept away by the pcremptorlnesa of this command "She's just where .Airs. Mead left her, ma'am. This way, please," and she went to tho parlor door and threw it open, saying: "Here be thy mother, mistress." Jenny was standing at the window over looking the green space of garden at the back of tho hous.\ With a stupefied face on her sho turned, and a cry left her lips, and sho stepped back a pace when her mother rushed to her. Then, like a flash of night at tho sight of tiie beloved face, an impulse!-of love and joy leape! up in her; and in close, sob bing ombracj were they locked as Sally, looking away from the sucrcd sight, closed tho door upon them. "Oh, Jenny, why are you here' why didst tbes loavo m< .''' cried Mrs. Strangfiuld, re linquishing her daughter to gaze at her, with eyes in which rapture und sorrow were strangely blended. "Never was mother's heart wrung as mine was when this morn ing I beheld your bed untouched, and you were not near to answer to my call" "I could not, stay. Father would have taken me to London to-day; rfhd see what a mad journoy it would havo been, and how cruel my ignorance would make him!" tho girl said, pushing back her hair, aad stand ing in a half defiant, half drooping posture before her mother. "Thy father! Oh, Jenny! not only is it my lovo for theo that has brought me hero in mad haste?thy father is dying! Ay, he may bo dead before we can return to him!" "Dying!? Mothsr, what do you say?" said Jonny, taking, so to speak, a firmer hold of tho floor with her feet, and- frowning, while a sickly hue of pallor overspread her face. "Oh, Jenny! for the sake of God who hath brought mo to the j, put on your hat and come with mo quickly. I tell you your father is dying?ho fell to tho ground when Dr. Shaw brought htm proof of your marriage with Cuthbert Dostnot theo know that the doctor has proved theo his son's wife! Ah, my poor heart, how should she know!?and that the cause of thy husbon l's m ssi-.g. as the doctor believes, is that he was s. v.: ?! by the press gong and carried away to sea! Down thy father fell, and we b ire him to his room, and thai snrgoon fears for his lifo; and all tho while ho lies groaning and crying upon thy name. 'Bring Jenny to me! bring Jenny to mo!' he moans. My protty, come quickly, or you'll see him no more in this world." Tho girl stood transfixed and overwhelmed br hor mother's news. Then you could have seen her battling with the rush and surge of tumultuous emotions a whole minute ere she spoke. "Do yon tell me that my darling is carried away to sea?" she said, in a febrile whisper. "'Tis what bis father believes." "And that Dr. Shaw bath proved me his son's wife to my father.'" "Yes, indeed. Ho camo with a papor, and th > sight of it hath killed thy father. His hear is broken for the wrong he has done his only one!" wailed the mother. "Oh, Jenny, do not delay! There is a coach at the door. Make haste to put on your hat. You would not let him be moaning for thee in dying sorrow and not come?" She looked at her mother with a wonder* ful ex ire.ssion of troubled, amazement and incredulous horror in her eyes, then took up her hat, an 1 in a few minutes was ready to depart As she loft tho room she met Airs. Walker, into whose hand sho slipped a guinea, giving hor a sweet, strango smile as she did so, but quite powerless to speak. ?Tho woman, much affected by Jonny's munificence, put the little trunk into tho coach, and low and numerous wero the courtesies she dropped as it drove off. Tho rattle of wheel and window, if not a prohibition to speech, was u decided obstacle to tho hearing. But Mrs. Strangfleld had too much to say to hold her peace. With her child's hand locked in hers sho poured her heart into Jenny's ear, and all the story of Dr. Shaw's visit told her, and the medical man's judgment on Michael's condition, with whatever else that her houd was giddy with ?sometimes reproaching and sometimes breaking into passionate exclamations of rapture, which thoughts of her husband would Inevitably choke; silent scarcely ever, and of tho matter of her volubility leaving Jenny, mnid the roar of tho coach, in pos session of but very small fragments. And tho girl? Her father knew at last that she was honest, and for a brief while had exultation, of tho kind that inflames tho madman's eye, swelled until it had sickened her heart with tho force and fuihiess of iL. But the emotion died under tho heavy droop of humiliated honor. Sho had won back her name, but what had the victory cost her? Her husband was gone, her father was dying, her heart was wounded and bleeding badly. Tho bitter passion of shame that had driven hor from Groj-stono revisited her again when tho coach entered tho High street, and sho leaned back and involuntarily drow her veil over her face. The mother stopped the coach at the corner of the street, that tho jar of tho wheels might not pene trate the resonant wooden house, and alighted with her daughter, and both of them went quickly in. "Mother," whispered Jenny, standing in tho passage as a stranger might, "I will stay here till youliavo seen him." "In the parlor, then, dearest, and lvst thee. Oh, Jenny, pray God to spare him! Ho is thy father." Softly the poor woman climbed the stairs, and Jeniry went into the little room which, in all her life, she had vowed never again to enter. Speculating she stood, wondering how it had befallen that her mother had come so speedily. Then through the doorway came a whis py? "Jenny!" She went out, and on the stairs she saw her mother, who for despair could only beckon or toss her hands. Sue followed Mrs. Strangfleld upstairs, with a creeping chill over her limbs, and the sensation of a thousand quivering fibers in her body. In the bedroom near the bed were two figures whom she could not Immediately dis tinguish for the feeble light in the chamber; but she speedily found that one was Mrs. Mead and tho other the doctor. Both figures drew away when mother and daughter came into tho room. Mrs. Strang fleld went to the bedside, and, bending over the motionless form upon it, said, in a whis per of exquisite sadness: "Michael, Jenny is here. Wilt thou speak to her J" For some moments there was no answer. At lost, in a faint, hoarse murmur, lh ? dying man said: "Let her take my hand and kiss me. Jane, thee knowest that I cannot move." Tho girl went to her father, and put her hand into his and kissed his forehead "Jenny, my little ono," he murmured, "thee didst wrong to trick me. Of old did the prophet chide, saying, 'And thou saidst, 1 shall Ix? a lady forever; so that thou didst not la) these things to thy heart, neither didst remember tho latter end of it.' But thy punishment has been sore, my poor ono. By thee ami condemned, whom I condemned. I was a liar for speaking what, in my wrath, I believed the truth; and it did nearly break thy heart, poor wench, as mine is brokon!" No pathos the meaning of his words had could equal the deeply moving effect given to "Jenny, my little one,' he murmured. them by his speaking with his head turned away, all power lost, life ebbing from him as surely as the shadows cast by the sun were slowly circling to the east, whence darkness comes. She hung over him with dry eyes, for the grief in her was too deep for tears. '?Father," she whispered, "I wronged thee by loving secretly; but has not my husband's going wrung my heart with punishment enough I Truly, I was innocent of worse sin than deceit; and now tlftit you know I am innocent, and bear with my kisses, I could bo happy to die." No answer did ho return, and ho began to breathe heavily; on which tho doctor came gently to her, and would have led her from the bed; but tho father had a grip of her 'hand, and she would not disengage his hold. Said the mother, in a feeble whisper: "Is there no hope."' Tho doctor shook his head, and let his chin fall on his breast, and stood quiet, with his hands clasped. No more uras said. What war. killing him, God knows! Not paralysis only, nor yet a broken heart. Yet visibly w;ts it dyin -, n-. ' tli ? difficult breath grew flower and w.-?.,i-r; mid within nu hour r.'oin ny's return to bw home the breath in hi. '. i?us gone and the body grow ing cold. Ii? passed away amid a deep still ness in th- room; an! Jenny hetvelf, irh'i was it ar h ui, knew not that lie Pas dead, until a strangeness hi tho hold of iis fing-rs made ber shriek cut. Thus <!id ir come about; and the mother and daughtr wept iu each other's arms" while the dort >r glide I noiselessly from the house, and Mrs. Mead tenderly (dosed the dead man's ejvs, and veiled, the marble Bilcncc of Ids race. (to i:k continued.) IiYSURE YOUR PROPERTY WITH KIRK ROBINSON, AGENT. COMPANIES Aid, FIST-CLASS AND RELIABLE. LOSSES PROMPTLY ADJUSTED AND PAID. COLLECTIONS PROMPTLY ATTEND ED TO. I am still selling Brick, Lime, Laths, Hair and other Building Material. ALSO 1 am now prepared to furnish Coal and Wood in any quantity. All orders left with nfc shall have prompt attention. No dravage charged. Give me a trial. July S3- K1HK ROBINSON Vor S*>:ale \ VALUABLE PLANTATION -i V eight miles east of town on the Five Chop road. Contains 300 acres of land, 1?0 of which is under cultivation, and remain tier well wooded with pine, oak, hickory, Szc. Besides dwelling and other necessary buildings, all of which arc in excellent con dition, there is a well appointed; steam 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 carp [Kind, stocked with scale carp (the unlypond In this county, to my knowledge, that has raised carp.) This place is excel lently located ill the center of a thickly settled neighborhood, theie-bv possessing excel lend 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. Bakton, M. I). "Starwall" Farm, Orangeburg, S. C. June ."-lino Vau Or? FloW Gallery OVER B. 1!. OWEN'S, Russell Street, Orangeburg, S. C. To THE I'UUI.IC: I have opened a first class Hioto Gallery. 1 would be pleased to have samples of work examined at Gallery. All werk slrickly first-class. Photos of Groups and Babies a speciality by Instant method. All Vowing Exteriors, Dwellings, Horses, Dogs ami Animate taken at short notice by instant method. Old pictures coplcdjand enlarged. Special attention given to this branch of work. Pictures finished in water colors, India Ink and Crayon. Also Photo taken from the size of smallest pocket to full life .'1x5 feet All work done with neatness and dispatch. Vewing any where in the State. Sjieeial discounts on all orders over?10.00. Give me a call. I will assure.satislaction. All work CASH ON DELIVERY. I'ostiveJj no credit. VAN ORSDELL, Artist, ' ? July 17 Russell Street. Orangehurg, S. c. J-'ol Sale. *> - i \ ACHES OUOD KAHMINC rjr)\ i hind located in Lyons Township, Orangehurg County, seven miles from the town of St. Matthews. One hundred and seventy-five aeres cul tivable, remainder well timbered. A good stream of water running the entire length of tract, with water power and machinery I for ginning and grinding. Also lor sail* one good forty-live saw Elliott gill, and one ! line young Mule. Anyone wishing a verj desirable farm would do well to confer with the undersigned before purchasing. July ?K!li:u JAS. M. MOSS. "MOORE COOriTY GRIT" Tl.. Im-i MilMoacluth? U'orM f "Tahle Mvn\, Sjmi'lMof m?al ?en: -n ?|>plifrti?n. s-n l for pricei aa r.trtsM? C'.rn Villa. irpp.T aiiJ fn-l-r Itnun r- rtiid Mill ?:. i) -?. Wf :i.-e ajonls f-.r Knuin?"?, Uniterm, SlIW .Hill-, Cotton l.llli, I'l.inor?. Slnftmr. Pull?)?. A.-.. t..i Kiiiici-.'.;;;: tun:;: . ;- +? ?<? < ?????"??: f-.r :).?? n.ill-T in ever) lmircl :if Hour tio make,. Wri'.i Mating ?li.n fan ?.int and ?rmj yon *. Un t<> bnvaa. pwc reforouMj. AdJreM. N'orlh Corolinii .Ulli? Mane l'o., I'arkcwood, Moan C... N. C._ A HI A L LATHUOl*. F. M. WAXNAMAKEH, Orangehurg, S. C. St. Matthews, S. C J ATIIROP& WANNAMAKEIL ATTORNEYS AT LAW, OitANOEni'iu;, S. C. Oilice Up Stairs Over the Postolliee, SLAUGHTER THIS MONTH IK FINE DRESS GOODS. The critical time in the Dress Goods trade hi the season has arrived and HENRY KOHN will not delay the usual CUT Which he makes In the prices of his Spring Dress Goods Stock in order to close them out! Those who desjre to get the most for their MONEY always respond to my notice of "CUT PRICES." Cashmeres, Plaids, Albcrtross, French lJaz.cs, Mikado Suitings and Tricot Clot hs, have been reduced fully 25 per cent, to re duce the slock. 36 Fine White Embroidered Robes in boxes from *i\.ju, ?2.75 and these prices are one. hall of former price SHOES. 1IK.NKY KOIIN'S uev.: Shoes and Slip pers, the best and cheadest stock ever offer cd in the City. * XOS110DDY SHOES: NO TRASH SHOES! HENRY KOUN'S stock ol Uibbonsand Laces, is beyond comparison, the largest and cheapest assortment in the City. RUGS, MATTI.WS AM) SHADES. Shade and patent rollciscoiiiplele75cclits. (ietils rciiifon ed Shirts, linen 1 routs 50 cents. ?? No um* in talking, IlLNIH KOHN leads in the Clothing trade lor Men, Boys and Children, l>e sure and look when you want a suit <d Clothing. Thousands of Bargains in Corsets, Fans, Domestics, Cassimiers, Ac. limited space forbids the mention of. IT COMTM NOTIIi:V?T<? LOOK. It will save yen money h> do >?. HENRY KOHN, LEADER OF LOW PRICES.