Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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'i J .'l i "Tile Peap’i Presses. 1 Leoai . M*-!-'•Blur*.- and i 'it-' f ——ool!Htjt*i*us—:— dob Printing ExnMiUnl promptly and in tlu | best stylos i>irthe l’Koi*ui I’ivss i cs. .r- l ATTORNEY-AT-I Bjirnwelly H. €. Monet to land on farm*.— Town h»ts and Improved f*rfn landa for tale. Will ntK< * T iH:e sales Cleared and tiirda r lands and buyaohool and eoon ty Haims. Vol. XIV. BARNWELL COURT HOUSE, S. C., JULY 23, 1891. N. * No. 47 j ax, WAS never iso raucli addicted to School girl friends h i p as most girls are; but, for ail that, I took an ’ i in - mense lik ing on the s|K)t to gen- 11 o fair haired Maud Drasdale. “Little English, Daisy'' we used to call her In the dull old French pensionnat de jeunes demoi selles to which, very much against ray will, I had l»een sent to “finish off." Pa|>a, who was . gran* nattired and easy going to a fault, and a Yan kee to Oie backbone, and who had no great faith in “French polish,” us he called it, bravely srcoml'Nl my opposi tion to tlw* French arhool project; but mamma, who the daughter of a southern gentleman, ami who liad lieen a great tieauty and a still greater heiress In ber^youtlr—despite the fact that a full share of family pride, a set of dinmoridt —d ■ p^-Tlmn uf _ .Aumu.>Ulow old mint lace wcrvaUmt nil tliat the ebanees of war and the death of her father, wlKt w ns kilbsl in the earRcr f iart t»f tin* rvU llion. had |*»ft to her of wr former grandeur—hail Iwn herself cducatia! in Paris; ami her one matemnl anxiety on my account ap|«eared to h* that I too should enjoy that ineetiniahle adtantagx In tain 1 wept. Moulded, en trratoL Mamina, indolent and careb-ss In moat thinga, w as Arm as a rock here. Site hod set her mind on my going to France, and to Franceaccordiu^ly, with nowhere by the side of Datyy Drasdale in point of beauty. > . Towards the middle of my first winter in Paris a separation camo. Daisy, who luuLheen ailing for several weeks with a slight cough and cold, suddenly devel oped symptoms that threw our teachers into a little panic of alarm. A doctor w’as called in who shook his head and prescribed total cessation of study and immediate removal to a milder climate. Mi.^s Drasdale was an orphan; but her uncle and guardian, Sir George Dras- dalo, the representative of the fine old Derbyshire family to which she belonged, was instantly communicated with; and in the course of a few days the old gen tleman came over in a terrible fright from England to whisk his darling away to Italy. Of course I missed her dreadfully, wandering about the dreary old pen sionnat lonely and inconsolable, and equally of course wo exchanged an un limited number of crossed and closely written epistles, In which I kept her fully apprised of all that was going on in our prosaic little school world, and in which Daisy excited my longings by profuse description of her wanderings amid the sunny scenes and wondrous art glories ^f Milan, Venice, Florence and Rome—description* that were pres ently varied by mysterious hint* con cerning a certain tender little romance that w as growing up in her life. Daisy had won a lover; and at last, with a thrill of mingled delight and awe, 1 learned that my friend was actually engaged, and was to bo married in a in patches, and over which the soft sweet wind came at ‘ intervals fragrant and delicious. 1 had taken the precaution of fortify-' ing , myself with a box of bonbons and the last new novel against the ennui of the journey, but 1 did not need them. The pleasant changeful scenery.and the people coining and going at the many stopping places along the route gave oc cupation for the forenoon, and a few hours after midday we reached our des tination. <:■ . “The next station will be ours, miss," i Porter remarked, rousing up from a long nap to make the announcement as the frain began to slacken speed. “And quiet little country station at which we were to alight But I had no eyes for the tall young man in livery; for drawn up before the entrance stood a dainty little ‘'turn out" in the shape of a tiny basket pony car riage, in which sat a golden haired, ex quisitely dressed young lady, in whom with one glance I recognized Daisy. The recognition was mutual. ~T saw her lift # hcr whip, the sweet, fair face lighting up with the old familiar smile, »mi, leaving the satchels and traveling rugs tb the care of Porter and the young man in livery, I sprang from the train, and, darting towards her, caught her in my arms, kissing and hugging her with nn amount of energy and effusion that evidently took two or three impassive year. . ] looking Englishmen, who put up their From that tlmo her letters, though evegla—ea U) survey me, by surpriso. U-ss frequent, grew more antfresting | * “Di’ar, darling'old Syd, how good It Is than ever, tilled almost entirely though there is SM « W OMIgH set talrttr -faintest possible tinge of envy. Alt, waiting for ns, site added, catching those Englishwomen! Why i, it that, sightof a tall young man in livery as the ' train came alongside the platform of the at 7, and your trunks will have arrived by this time. Besides, I want to show you yenqr room. Ah, there is Madelinel" she broke off as the clatter of hoofs drew my attention to the,window, from which 1 saw a lady splendidly mounted, and followed by a groom in livery, dash up the avenue towards the, front en trance. Did I tell you that my cousin Madeline Amhurst is staying with us, Sydney?”, “Cousin? Why* Daisy, I had.no idea you had a cousinl I am sure you nevet ^mentioned her to me before,” 1 returned, staring in surprise after the graceful, swaying figure in. the perfectly fitting habit as it swept past, with just the ■ “li SvUi ■l I -t cat »an^t >f lli.it I'j rui !*» the unladi ilk slangy ph raw* .log % of this vulgarly 1 fa*l New York luofe than #\er COIlV lllt t* in© of tlie it«<c#w«ity uf y.*ur go- ing. U Is li< *C * i» »#ry turn .itural, I think, th It I d.oul.l 1 desire to Sei l* iny otilv dan liter Is m y onl a lady; at A _ _ „ _ fi \ IM 'l kI tlie Fmi< 'll sclu.J "An 1 d «• yifu n*n illy* belle re. my di*ar. that two vear*' In q'ri-M •niiH’tit in soma dreary oi Id* French r«Hiv.i»t U K'dng to A , _ . * i.MpCvl W . ’.yd y».y iu.»L i laily F inquiri*! IMIV1. liftl ifItlH *• usliy gray t> Ota* ami i .. t In r %% ilh a coiuu’al e xprewdou t r the t • of his |wi|»t, bebii ideW hieli It wa* hi* haUt f> retire when ever tlio don untie Udtle sliowiul signs of going 1 hud Iward mo much aliout ary, winch, according to my muMt lie a (nTfect Ltiry |vii d**r and d<-light. or, a hat again** Mm. “.Might a* well expect the wKat-do-yixi-rallhim to change thvcolor of hi* n ie chiH I* a true tiorn Yankee, every inch of Her ■and Hvd's Inches are none *o few either," ho added, glancing mt«chievo:ift|y at my aliomi- ImJMhJkaut HmUg which, a* everyIkmIv well knew, acre the greafTcuI t*PTiiT —~1 d<*t<«l upon halo women, and here w:m I growing away up into ridicu lous altitudes. “A l>orn Yankee, every Inch of her," lie added—“all the way up from tln*x* prc|x>-»ter »u* little high lieeiini Until, she |H > r>i'ts in wriggling aUuit on to the top <>f that sparkling new thirty dollar braid .rho ha* gone and in isteil up on Ahe toji of her |KV>r little empty emniuinl And it's my piIvat** opiuitm, my dear, that all the French school* in the world are not g' ing to make anything eUq of her. Hotter let the girl alone. For my part, I don't see anything so much the niattet w ilh her, ■but, for heaven's sake, if she isn't fashionable enough to suit, can’t you find a [dace nearer home, whore you might ha vo her taught all that is deemed necessary?" Poor dear bid papa—ho stood up for me bravely; hut. alas. It was of no avail! Mamma was obstinate as a mule; and the end of it nil was that I was packed off to Furojie, whence I was expected to return with all the graces and accom plishments under the sun. But it is not so much about myself that 1 am going to write. I am not tire lieroinoof this story, that important post being much better filled by Daisy, or father Maud I>rnsdalo, between whom and myself , a fast friendship grew up from the first hour of our meeting, a ^friendship that excited considerable sur prise among bur teachers and school- I mutes, I reuiemlx'r, for never w*ro two ■* £^ r b , more entirely unlike—D*isy so quiet, so sliy mml retiring, and—^ ell, 1 dm afraid f am not qualified to inscribe thyself very accurately—so few of us see Ourselves os others see us, you know. But, considering my nationality, it is f erhaps hardly necessary to observe that was not at all shy or retiring. Whoev er Iteard tell of an American girl who was? But that tnay be the fault of the climate. Very ftpY people, I believe, find the air of America particularly conducive to shamcfaceduess. But it may be that liking goes by op posites. At all eveflts, nothing ever dis turbed the bond of good fellowship be tween me and Daisy, whose blue eyes, blonde hair, and tiny plump figure con- xsted so strikingly with my dusky brown skin, and long limbs,' [j^s papa used to say, were chiefly pi*tol m* Pitting ns much in my the sum l^ple's. ,J^r>t thlt Very lifortun.; to bo-< xacPlv a and the l> c nxrprr, many p** ,[,!<» « girl ” and talked they were with glowing descriptions of K-the manifold vlrtu« , s and perfections of Fritx e t*tmrmtng. whose earthly nami) of Etlw.-inr Pohifret was usually abljre* vlaP*i Into "dearest Tisldy." tiir George and hia niece sj* nt the *j*ing in Italy, and the following sum mer in Switzerland; but towards the fall I received a letter with an English post mark. They had been in Isrtidon for a week or ta-o, but w ero just now on the point of returning to Drastlale Abbey, Sir George's place in Derbyshire; and. with regard to hersrlf, Daisy informed me that site w as quite well and strong again now; and the one thing necessary to render her happiness comp|< te was the prvaence her dearest friend Syd ney. And tlnm followed u pressing in- vilation. sccomled by a kindly Message fn*m Sir George himself, to come and pay tlntii n visit. ’ ii.s*l Utile Daisy! It was like her. I thought, to remember me in tin* mitDtof lit r ow n b.tppiiK'Os; and of ct*ur»*c 1 was w il«) t«» gu, Ihusiah- Ah lively fancy, a- e of Mpl«*f was Very much the sain«- thing to me, «ie of tlmse fine old anc'estenl mansions with oriel window*, long rorridors, and h»unt«*i chambers, standing in the midst of stately fxvrka, w ith sunny glades, or»ki*n clumps and startled de«*r, aliout w lik h we rend so much in English nov els And I wr»*te imniedtateiy to mam ma, ls*gging and praying for iM-rniission to ^o. Nev»T to mv lm|tatient Imagin.ition na<l tho wide Atlantic se«*m«*d so wide, .or the coming of tlie mails so f« «liou*.l v delaytsl; hut finally, to my intense re lief. a letter Is-Mring the familiar New York post mark arrived, which contained not only the longed for permission, couched in tuamma's choicest phraseol ogy. hut aK* a checft for three hundred dollars. — w ill* ii l.I^h y. nnr littio addition to your war«Jrol*e, my love," she wrote; "and need i tell you, my dearest Sydney, I tow d<vplv I am gratified by Sir George Draxdale's very jxdite invitation.and thechaneeit affonfs you of seeing n littio really good English stu iety? Arul, a* 1 am naturally anxious that you should make a suita aiuo, J have forwarded the enclo*e«l, u»- gethor witliaHetof [H-arls from Tilfaiiv'a, to see you againf f);il*y oxclairmxl, holding me at arm's brngth to get a bet tor look at me, and evidently as oblivious proprieties. nu«t the astern*bed looks of the bystanders a* I was. “Wliy, T^Tiiericau « how pretty—how perfectly charming you are looking! I came on purpose to liave tl»e felicity of driving you home, and of getting you all to myself for an hour or two. Turner will sec to PtMier and the trunks—ftiic'wugonrtto is wait ing for them. And now tell mo, Syd, did you have a sumoth (vtMiago across; and did Porter take good cars of you?" “SpiendidI There were some good slsed wares, but I’ve sis-n bigger, and Porter is nn i ncom parable com | am ton for a -sea voyage.” I lauglHNl, thinking of that estiumhle woman's woe begone es- prvsidon as we roiled almut at Uiu mercy of the little sIms! chop|ting Channel wav«w. “But, Ikiisy dear, would you mind giving men good shake or a plneh. Just to convince nw* that 1 am actually awake, ami that it's nil rvol, you know? I'm afraid that my Udng here i» too good to l<e true, ami that 1 shall wake up presently to find myself in tlie dreary old cla*s room, with the belt ringing for IcMions or praycraT* “It's os real as anything else In this world," slie U-gno. with a smile that smticliow dk-d aw ay into a siglt. “There are {wopie. you know, who say that life is itself l>ut a dnam—a painful, fever ish one." During the drive to Drasdnlo Abbey— and such a delightful drive as it was nsv, along a Inroad smoutli road that lay like a line of w hite Is’twcen tall hedgerows bright in |«atclH-* with tlie coral berrh'a of tho wild n«>e and hawthorn, from which clondliko flock* of bird* flew up as we |in**ed, to circle in «lark drift* over the green lieids and tlie purple hills hc- yoml—Icameto tlie conclusion that some, vague, intangible change had taken place in Ikusy since the day 1 liad aren her i'ast, a change that U*camo uion* than ever apparent w hen, on our arrival at with nl| their graces and fascinations, my countrywonjen have never yet been able to equal them in that most graceful accomplishment of horstunanship? "Well, dear, properly sjHNiking, Ma deline Amhurst is not my cousin, though I have always been in tho habit of call ing her bo. She is tho daughter of Sir George’s half sister, who, very much against the wishes of her family, mar ried a disreputable adventurer, who not only spent her fortune, but ill treated and finally deserted her. Not that she ever wanted for anything, fo; Uncle George, who i* good to every one, pro vided for her until she died, and has taken care of her- daughter ever since; although, since my return to England on tho death of papa, who died in India, you know, Madeline has chosen to reside j with an aunt in London/* Daisy ex- ' plained, a*, linking her arm in mine, she J led me up to the room prepared for me, 1 through the grand hall, with it* tessel lated floor, its stained glass window* and aomljcr w;fll* of |»olished oak, hung with pictures, weapons and armor, which, .iiku -tho broad staircase, | »’ked, to mv cousin, a beautiful girl who was to have been married on the followtng day to tho afternoon how, on waking up from her sleep that night, with .a vague, half dc^ •/ | » r u v — man with whom,she was secretly in love; j fiuad sense of some one or soniethipg and then, having dressed herself in tho costly bridal robes intended for her vic tim and rival, she killed herself with the remainder of the deadly drug; and so, afc- J tired in all her snowy splendor, she was was found on tho momingof the intended bridal, as cold and lifeless ns the |K>or little bride herself. It'inust have lieen a dreadful tragedy. I never hear the story without a shudder. And from that day to this, so runs tho legend, Mistress Do rothy’s ghost is given t6 prowling at night aliout tho old abbey, leaving the curse of her crime on her race, for, of all tho women of her name who have had ncvVr live to be poor Teddy's wife, ea- the misfortune to behold the bridal'spec ter, as it is called, not one has ever lived to wear her own wedding dress." . “Como now, that’s vvliat 1 call a very respectable family legend! And every old family ought to have its legend, every old house its ghost But, good Heaven, Daisy, you don't mean to say that you believe one word of all this?' I exclaimed, surprised to see how pale she had grown, and that her teeth w ere alisolutely chattering as she spoke. “I don’t know. Shakespeare was a wise man. and even he felt that there more thin:^in heaven ami e'»'ih than are dreamed of in our philosophy.* Above all. 1 am a Dmsdale; and the Drasdaleg always have believed in it. But. for pity's sake, come away, Sydney! 1 hate that picture! if?* still, cold, baleful eyes always see in to follow me liko" some vague intangible horror. If it were not for tho hhsurd folly of the thing. I would /cqtK’Kt my undo to have it removed. But come away, Sydney; don't you feel n draught? .These ol«l houses'are none too air tight, and I am chilled to tho bone." I made no reply, for, as a light font- near her, she had opened her eyes to lie- hold tho ill omened specter standing white and shadowy in , its long white bridal veil by her bedside. The sight, she declares, literally curdled tho blood in her veins’; and, with an awful inde scribable terror she uttered the piercing cry that so terrified us all. and fainted dead away. ‘And from that hour, Dor ter,’ she added, looking up into my face with an expression that touched mo to tho quick, *1 have knowm that I am doomed —that my fate Is sealed—that 1 shall res, nhogetherwTgnflltl ouii j —fLjatiJtpnn my car_l turned n> liad stately for freal bom# comfort. And sucli a delightful little room R was when we nachcil it! • A cnr|*>t soft as velvet ami of some rich dark mosaic pattern-covered the floor. A few choice shroronsnnd engravings enlivened the walls, which were papered of n soft French gray. A bouquet of delicious hothouse flowers stood lieforo tho mirror on the marlde topped drenatng talde, among tho exquisitely tinted silver mounted |ierfum# Unties. A coni Are burnt in tlie low polUhed grate, and near the laco dra|ied windows that looked out on tlie mntclile** view of hill nud dale and Uwky ravine stood a littio low rock ing chair that caught my eyea la au in stant. “You see I did not forgot that comical little Aankeo weakiu** of your*. Syd ney d«*:ir," she laughed, as I sank into it with n delicious little sigh of satisfaction; 'and I am going to make you confess that, if there is one thing more than an other in w hich thy soul delightclh, it is a rocker." “1 don’t want to deny It. my dear. And you and }our strait kictNl rotiutr-y- womon have my full permission to*it on stiffliacked rliuirs and l.iu*;h ns much as \ou like," 1 iuagnanimou»ly returned, tucking away a* hard os 1 was able. Every body know s llqit a rocking chair is aliout as necessary to your true liorn Yankee as a swaying tree branch to a ringtailed monkey. Another proof, 1 diould not wonder, of our monkey de scent! I am surprised Mr. Darwindid not think to mention it; but ho L wel come to tho suggestion. My toilet accom|>lished, I went down stairs to Iw mado ac*quainted w ith Sir George, Mias Amhurst auil several other guest* who had U^n invited to dinner. With Sir George, a dear old gentleman ible apjiear- I e.^pre ....l i* > \\ri. now that tho flush lent to her cheeks by excitement anti exercise had died out, 1 was shocked to seo with what |>ainful distinctness tho blue veins ehowed up through tho pal<^ tmnsp.irent skin, nnd what a worried, anxious, almost huntiNi ion *ho had acquiretl. What could have happened to her. what ct>nld have so chnng<\l mv bright. w hich your pa|*a had intende<l 6en«ling I sunshiny little Daisy? i wondered, glanc- }*ou next month as a little birthday sur priso. " I’oor mamma! Knowing her weak point as I did. I might have been confi dent that sho would have been too much flattered by an invitation from a man of Sir George Dr;isdale’s family and rank to raise any objection to my visit. 1 kissed and cried over her letter in a littio rapture of delight and gratification; and, having communicated my success to my friend, in a few- .days Daisy’s maid, Mrs. Porter, a res|>ectable*middlonged woman who had liven] in tho family fot years, arrived at the pensionnat to chaperon mo liack to England. It was a fine morning on which I sat out on ray journey, bright with blue skies and the golden October sunlight; and, strapping my trunk and donning my.tasteful new traveling suit,. I ran down stairs, with a delicious iittlo sen sation of freedom and importance, to bestow good-by kisses on my school mates, who, gathered in iittlo em tous groups, were waiting about tho hall to see me step into the fiacre In which Por ter, looking eminently dignified and re spectable, was impatiently awaiting me. We made tho channel passage in safety, in spite of the fact that it w aa rather rough, and that Porter, who was a mar tyr to mat de incr, and who lay limp and helpless aliout tho cabin, confidently ex pected to go to the bottom about every five minutes, and became firmly impressed with the conviction that she had sounded the depths of humanj^oo in thb transit; and, having spent onorffght in London, we started by an early train on the fol lowing morning for Derbyshire. The great city was still enough as we drove through it on our wfiiy to the station, the tall fronts of the silent houses with their cloeed blinds gleaming stately and cold in, the saffron Ught; and, before I had thoroughly realized the fact that 1 was actually breathing the air of tho London ot my dreams—that weird ro- nmnee of spjeqdtd wcaltii nnd abject ihC-Alibev. wi» Kit talking over old times* . ... : " —, rvT -*> i it with n bald head, a shining sweet fn« o in tho w arm glow of the iibran: fire, aitd 1 i r~~r ,« i—r . ° . _i . , and courtly old school tuAnncrs, I fell in love at first sight; hut with Miss Am- hiir»t 1 was far haw favorably impressed, i “A- «|dcndid dolt, destitute alike of wit, of talent, or feeling." 1 decided dur- ing the first hour of our acquaintance; but subsequent observation induce*! me 1 to suspect that under her cold, passion less exterior there lay an undercurrent ; of shrewd cunning that might possibly • . 4I1 . 1 j * , i * on a pinch servo Miss Amliurst in place ‘"3 “™‘ l 1 a ‘. SP '° ' . . , T" l, ; nc ' -8 of of intellect. wealth and lasto will, which she wat 0 n tho following .lac Mr. E,lwar,l everywhere Mirnnimhtl. Something was [ pomfret arrived, an,1 for a time Daisy 'tTi™.™ 1 !\ .‘f . 'u',- 1 ” ! briithtencl and Improved eo visihly in ' ,l , * .. - v r ''' 'nd am thing the happiness of his society that I began odo with it? lint, ron. the way in wh.eh lo l „, e , nvst ,. r i 0 , ls r | ( ' 1U(1 darkening her face ht up whenever she spoke of her , ifu di llcd . h,m " ,d 'l' 3 “""'I «« “Who is that lady in thn powdered morrow, when I was to seo that mascu- i i i . . , . ^ , . . . i, , ' . , , i hair and ixrinted stomacher? I inquired, line mtraclo for myself, I cou d hard y „ i i * « 1 * think it * ^ ; as Daisy and 1 went up to our room to- „ j „ , * \ , . get lie r ono night, pausing ns I sixikc in ’•Daisy dear, I ventured at last, see- # i r ■ • /• \ . _ , • » I. , i front of a life sizo painting of a beauti- mg how painfully nervous and nreoccu- r -,1 i i i- i , 1 J 'i.- , fuPwoman with a pale, proud face and a pieti her manner was, and how’, at the 11 opening of n door pr the piussing of a shadow, she would start nnd tremble, “do you think you have quite recovered from your last winter’s illness? 1 am afraid you have returned ten) s<xi|i; you are scarcely looking so strong and w ell as your letters led me to expect." ‘ % . •/ 0 J^Sr- > in tlie after a out to w it, ; r about liii.y.A I*overrv w hich the [*« the {tmfui of a Dire we wena o«jr amop« ttli’.ifbiwr* the m * t *'Daisy dear* / ventured at last, She started, and turning away her face, exebtimeth “Now, Syd dtzr. if > <-r ert il n;r are goin i lenvt; vc . But ct baleful light in tho cold gray eyes with which sho seemed always to follow our movements as w o came and went up and down tho great hall staircase, on tho landing of which it hung. “An ancestress of mine,.Sydney, who lived and had her being nearly throe cen turies ago—ono Mistress Dorothy Dras- clale—a woman with a horrible history, aliout which 1 hato tp think,” she replied, shudderingly shrinking av&y. . 4 “Is that so? How very delightful! .If j tliero is ohe thing I like better than an- j other it 4a a story with a spice of the j horrible in it,” I thoughtlessly remarked, holding up tho lamp to study the cold, handsome features, to which the llioker- ing light im[>arted a strangely lifelike play. “It must be perfectly splendid to have ancestors who have mysterious his tories. Now there is mamma; sho is very much given to talking about her family. But they have all been so dreadfully re spectable, according to her, that 1 have never been Able to get up any great amount of interest hi them—all tho way down from the first originator, who came over with Columbus, or CapL John Suiith^-or was Gdpt. KLidd?—tho man w ho married Pocahoutaa, you know, or whatever tho woman'* dreadful name wa*. 1 am afraid 1 am not very well up hi the history of my country; but, all tho same. I am surprised at hia taste in mar rying an Indian. I always did detest the *f n squaw myself! But come, US! mo all about this mysterious. bl,.’ad«iU,dr.cil v r." Htd, it is eJe .j al.« rriai •.!»’ nm.o the colil gray eyes'of Mi* 4 * A nihiTfSt ftied full iifton my frieml, with a huU1iii*I hut 1 unmistakable cxpn**Hion of hato and tri- , umph in their handsome cold depths, j w-hicii changed on tlie Instunt to lu*r 1 usual bland smile, a* with a |M>lito “good night’’ sho swept slowly |«a*t and went up to h**r room. “Good heaven," I thought, as I stood i staring after her In blank surprise, “ w hat a remarkable reerm bianco she liore to the pictured face of which w# Itavo just been spenkingr That Miss Amhurst’s feelings towards hv*r cousin were anything Imt friendly I ; luul sus|iected from tl»e first; but oomo- bow, as I sat over tho fire In my own room that night, pondering tho incident just described, tho memory of that sinis ter. evil glanro lirgnn to haunt mo like n cliill proiunwRio?) uf evil to conic; nnd 1 from I*orU r. whocansoin a*usual tohelp mo to uiufreH*. 1 discoveruil, l»y means i of a feW w«ll directed qiiostioti*. that pn'vktus to Miss Drasdalc’s return to | England Madeline Amhurst liad Imnui re gardctl bv many |ioo[*lo os Sir George's i pn*!.ahle iRdreas. “But whether or not ■och wrrfld have la-cn tho caso I can't, of course, pretend ; to aay,” rorter continued, “for even ns a I child Mi.v* M.ididino was no pnrticular ; favorite w ith SirGeorge, kind and imhil- . g**nt tliough lie ha* always l*eii to her. But, a* luatiers stnnd, sho w ill certainly I never Ijo mist real of I>ra*dalo ANa^y— never, at least, while MianDraadalo liv(>a. Sho is his pet nnd darling; and, os ho lias no other heirs, the great bulk of the ! property w ill go to her and her children, I should she ever Jivo to Itnvo nny. But, j oh, miss, I am terribly anxious about my 1 young lady!" slie added, w ith a sigh and 1 a sudden chango of manner. “Sho b ao ! sadly alter**d of lato that I think even j you mu*t liavo noticed it." “t have noticeil it, Porterr I ex- irrmrl ttl V f>t|r| Iind I lying . mv hand orAher arm. “Tell me wl»at it b that b ailing Miss Drastlale. Sho lias tried to hide it from me; hut I cannot help seeing that something b wrong She has a worried, haunted look, like that of a person burdened with some secret care, it frightens mo to seo her; and perhaps, if I only knew w hat it b that b troubling her, I might bo able to do something to lighten it.” “That is precisely what I think—pre cisely why 1 have spoken, miss. 1 was in the blue chamber this evening when yop two young ladies came up to yqur rooms; nnd, as the door was open, ] overheard every word of what Miss Dras- dalo w as telling you about that picture and tho old superstition concerning Mis tress Dorothy’s ghost, that no lady of that name w ho beheld the Fjiecter ever lived to l»c a bride. But, my dear young lady, sho did not toll you that it is this ’same ill omened belief that is undermin ing her health—her very life. Sho lie- dieves that sho herself has soon tho ghost —consequently that sho is doomed to die before her wedding day; and, unless something can bo done to convince her of tho absurdity of the superstition, I am afraid tho belief will only too surelv verify itself. Soon after our return to the Abbey and tho arrival of Miss Am hurst, w ho came to pay us a little visit, a whisper began to creep out among the servants that tho bridal sjiecti'T had lieen seen gliding along tlie passages and cor ridors; and one nigbt the household wsis aw akened by a shrill piercing cry that threw us ail into a sudden panic of terror. Somebody said that it came from Mias Drasdale'a room; and, on rushing in, we were horrified to find her lying on her bed in a dead faint, from u hich it taxed our utmost efforts to restore her. We brought her to at last; but tho uhock, w hatever it was, had once more brought on that alarming malady, heinotrhago of the lungs, from which wc had been in such hojiea that she had entirely recovered; and the doctor u ho w us called in took Sir George^aside and privately repeated the advice that other physicians luul pre viously given him—to guard her from the slightest shock or excitement of any kind. She was so very delicate, her hold on life so painfully precarious, that the slightest tiling of tho kind might possibly prove fatal, he said. Tliat sho had liad a shock of some kind I wxs fu!!y. convinced, though of what natu-c , 1 4*»-'V r .,a-; jeted cot.! vcj*.. gerly as he is looking forward to tlie day. I felt that 1 must speak to some one; but not to unde—not ,to Teddy! Poor souls, they love mo so truly that It will be hard enough for them when the time comes.’ And now, my dear young lady," Porter continued, “you know the secret of the pitiful change that has come over our poor darling. Of course 1 don’t myself believe one word aliout Mistress Dorothy’s ghost, or any such rubbish. 1 am a plain, practical woman; and Imth religion and common sense, il s«*ems to me, utterly preclude the possibility <ft •ueh a tiling, it must have been’ a dream, an optical illusion, or- something of that kind, that occsudoned her terror; but the effect upon her w ill be precisely the same, unless something can bo done to release her from the uiorhid super stition that if killing her. 1 know that you are Mis* Dmsdule’s sincere friend, and troubled, I should judge, by very few superstitious weaknesses; there fore it occurred to one that you might lie able to offer a tiuggcstion — that you might (mssihly think of some w ay in which to help her. At all events. 1 have lieen thinking tint, p ithout let ting .her know tint 1 leave given you Ttirr hint of nif 'flita.'yVHt might perhaps make some excuse for staying with her at night. Only think of that poor, ner vous child pnsaing it ninnoP “Set your mind at rcat on that point, Mrs. Porter," 1 replied. “So long os 1 remain at tlie AMiey she shall not lie loft alone. Til take care of thfct. But for tlie real I must have tima to think." Throwing a dressing robe over my night dress, I hurried off to Daisy's room at once, where, a* | expected, 1 found her lying among tho pillows with a white pitiful face ami jierfcrtly wide awake, “Dm't laugh. Daisy dear!’’ 1 ex claimed, bouncing in upon her with a little grimace, I tried my level best to ren der comical. “Like Mra. Gutmuldge, 1 am n 'p^ir, kmo kirn crectur;' and I've come to see if you'll take mo In for tlie night. But you need not Itavo me if % ou d** not want me, you know. If you'd rather bo ukste. Just speak tlio word, and I II go." lA*ar Iittlo Daisy, how ray heart nehed for Iter as 1 saw thccxpnwsion of Budden relief that lea|it into tho poor little anx ious fails! Throwing her arm* nl*Hit my nock, sho clung to mo liko u frightened child. “Dear old Syd, Itow glad I am that you cnitHd I warned to ask you; hut somehow I did not like to mention it. It t* t>o nice to have you here to be ckmc by tue!" she exclaimed, clinging to mo with a shudder. “More—it reminds mo of tho dear old arliool days, wlwn we two shared tho samo room and tho samo lied, and were os iuippy os a couple of young roMns on a high tree branch." And then, soothed and comforted liy my presence, sho fell into such a quiet, restful slumber as, sho told mo after ward*, sho had not enjoyed for week*. But thoconfidcnco Porter liad placed in mo was sufficient to keep mo restless, wak«*ful and full of .thought. — Xw clio. then one. rang out from the great clock over tho ktablcs as I lay lis tening to tho wind that tossed tho great park trei*s In stormy gusts and watched tho white light that struggled fitfully in through tho half drawn curtains every timo tho moon rose upaUivothc black drifts of storm riven cloud that enveloped her. Somewhere in tho di rection of tho stables a watchdog uttered at intervals a long low howl; and, al though I was sensible of tho fact that my spirits had somehow’ grown chill and dull, tho effect of Daisy's soft low breath ing. ns sho slept on peacefully ami tran quilly by my side, was finally to lull mo into a fight dore, from which, as it seemed to me, tho touch of an icocold hand on my face aroused mo in sudden fright. I opened my eyes with m start nnd sprang bolt upright In bed, and there, close liesido it, stood an object; white, shadowy and ghostly, on which it shook even my strong nerves to look—Mistress Dorothy’s ghost! There could lie no mis taking the cruel eyes, the powdered hair and the long w hite bridal veil that coh ered tho figure from head to foot For f IKf .i cut gluts* that stood on a stand just with in reach, I sent it with all'the force ter remand desperation could Impart atrtho ghostly figure just vanishing through the open door. ^ •'There waa a food crash, followed by a low moan and a heavy fall; and, grasp ing the bell at tho head of the bed, £ pulled away at it with a force that seemed, breaking a* the t^j&nd did on tho solemn stillness of tho night, mfib ient to rouse the dead. In another moment tw’o or three servants, headed by Sir George, rushed into the room, and there, in the doorway, as their fights flashed down upon it, lay a w hite huddled heap. “Why, it is Miss Amhurst, Sir George!’* said one of the servoniti, looking up from the white unconscious face over which a little stream of blood was trickling. “I really thought at first that it was the bridal specterl She do look uncommon like it, to bo sure, in her long bridal drew nnd veil!" , The mystery of the ill omened appari tion was explained at last. It waa Mad. line Amliurst who had been per sonating Mistress Dorothy’s ghost* Tho white dri’ss and veil, tffe powdered hair so carefully arranged to render her re- sembla'ncc to the (tainting ns ch**o as poHHthle, nil told its tale; and, even in tho first confusion of_tho surprise, 1 saw that U>th Porter and bir George fully understood the situation. Not a word of explanation was offered to tho servant*; but Miss Amhurst w.-is carried up to her own room,- where for several days tdto remained slightly in- diK|MiH«*l, ns I could very well under stand, from the effect of tlie Mow 1 had so unwittingly struck Ikt w ith the goblet —“a shaft at random sent" tliat had certainly “found mark the arcInT little meant," though i never Haw cause to re gret that my aim that'night was well taken. ^ Neither Daisy nor I |^w Mis* Am hurst again; for Kir George, who looked U|>on her effort* to terrify ids niece tuf something very littio short of an nttem|it to murder, know ing ns sho did what tho result of such experiment w*as likely to li#. acnl Ik*c a polite intimation that her |*reseneo in his Itouso was no longer do- sin* L For tlie rest. It H nooeosary only to ob serve tliat, tho dread by which she had been op(>reaacd onro removed. Daisy speedily recovered IsXh liealth and sjiir- Its, and when tho tlmo camo for me to go tnrk to l*aris it was Hir tJvorge him self wIkj wrote an<l obtaitK*! niamiuati cordial consent for mo to oomo back in tho spring to ofliciato ns chief brides maid. TDK END. OsMtaa. • Moilcaty Is a precious grace, in pre- | ctouaand withal Bo rare tliat bouiowImi ! Imvo it cannot tswr to hhlo It under a I busliel. What is a man’s light good for. j If ho Uora not let it shim’? Sueliaper-’ son was lately holding forth after dinner. “Nearly all chariuihio acts," said lio, j “havo vanity a* tle ir motive. For my part, I hato ostentation. J rcmemticr 1 onco a lien I was traveling In tlie houUi- I ern part »>f the state, where n<*liody knew mo, I came u(ion a loncdy Iittlo way Kta- I (ion. wlwro. In tho waiting room, tiieru was fastened to t!»c wall a contribution box for tho Ixmefit of sufferer* from u recent flood. “Tliero was not a bou! there; noondy saw me or know my name, and 1 went ami dropfiod a flvo dollar gold piece into tho box and slip|ied away uu&eun, un known. “Now, sir, what I contend Is that my secret offering was a rooro meritorious one. intrinsically considered, tluui ft it hod been mado on tlie (HihlicKtilMcri|ition list, with a loud flourish*>f«trumpet*." “You aro quite right," said ono of Ids hearers ** “That waa gimuino. m<*h»4« charity, and I don*#-wonder tliat you brag of it-r—Wasp. Au*trnllun K:4;>hlt Rktu*. In the last ten )ears 20,000JK)0 rabbit skins have been exporU’d from Victoria. In addition to tho ex|x>rtB from the colo nies many havu boon usxn! locally by hat manufacturers nnd others, and largo numUr* liavo doubtless been destroyed or allowed to decay. Tho supply from Australia has flooded tlie English mar ket and tho trade has on hand u supply sufficient to last for a year or two. The English rabbit breeders also found it to their advantage to kill rabbits mainly for their skins, and the supply of homo skins is said to reach 30,000,000 annually. Bel gium, which qppplies us with tho tamo bred rabbits so largely appreciated and imported for food, sends away over 0,000,000 rabbit skins, hut tlren these skins are much larger, of a finer color and let ter fitted for furs than those of the wild rabbit.—London Globe. 7 opened my eyes triffi a start, the moment I was too petrified with hor ror and surprise to move, speak or even fo think. But when at last the ghostly V u *. ‘ j .414 ait. oilO UAl CM TTguic turned round tlowly and moved low. id* ’.he (’ mv. n faint tcuch of what ,4.ni Uj I t all “S) d\ p'-ck" le arned to Ft#, {iid rtL-i-ipir a heary tuiuUcr vt Fruit fur Cliililrcn. j* Tlie most nxitural diet for the young, after tho natural milk diet, b fruit and wholemeal bread, with milk nnd water for drink. The desire for thisRaiue mode of sustenanco is often continued into af ter year*, as if tho resort to flesh were a forced and artifiefal feeding, which re quired long and persistent habit to estal>- li*h its permanency as a pari of the sys tem of every day life. How strongly this preference tasto for fruit over animal food prevails Is shown by the simple fact of thq retehtion of tin's© ftxxls in the mouth. Fruit is retained to lx* tasted and relished. Animal food, to usoaeomrupn phrase, is bolted. Thero is a natural ile- sir© to retain tho delicious fruit for full mastication; tliero is uo such desire, ex- cejrt in tho trained gourmand, for the re tention of animal substance,—Lay man * Magazine. ^ Strunsu Fatal Accldt-uU. A Baltimorean drojqx.*d asleep on a park bench when, his head falling for ward, ho unconsciously choked to douth over the stiff edge of his celluloid collar. A dog died in HUnoU the other day from drinking water in which u flannel shirt, had been rinsed. A fc»t. Louis man lias died of erysipelas contracted from a ver digris brass dollar button eating into his neck, and a man in Chicago was roasted of hU to deat.h bv tlie firln; cotton en- den talking a* ^ drted Lhcxa before sa op<ra grau.—Tnc Spoouior.