Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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-3?^. - ? I. m, ,-1- -?-?-.-''.-::?>->---?-? ? " '-* -- " " *~ " ' "~ ' " ' ^ ' *" " " -*" ' """ ~ "~ *" " " -- faES?MTKJ WATCHMAN, Established April, 1850. "Be Just and Fear aot-Let all the Ends thou Aims't at, bs ti?7 Country's, thy God's and Truth's5* THE TKUK SOITUKO?, Established June, i$t>e Consolidated Aug. 2, 18S1.1 SUMTER, S. C., WEDNESDAY. MARCH 18, 1891. _ New Series-Vol. X. No. $?>. SufcHskeder?y T&Tednesday, BY N. Gr. OSTEEN, SUMTER, S. C. TBRMS: Two Dollars per annum-io advance. ADVEBTI8ZMBNT8. Oo Square, first insertion.$1 00 jtrery subsequent insertions.~ 50 Contracts for three months, or longer will be made at red aced rates. All.communications which subserve private interests will be charged for as advertisements. Obituaries and tributes of respect will be charged for. THE SIMONDS NATIONAL BANK, OF SUMTER. STA YE, CITY. AND COUNTY DEPOSI? TORY, SUMTER, S. C. Paid up Capital.$75,000 00 j Surplus Fund. 9,250 CO J Transacts a General Banking Business. Careful attention given to collections. SAYINGS DEPARTMENT. Deposits of $1 and upwards received. In? terest allowed at the rate of 4 per cent, per annan. Payable quarterly, on first days of January, April, July sod October. R. M. WALLACE, Yice President. L. S. CARSON, A og. 7 Cashier. _ THE BM (inilTH, SUMTER, S C. CITY AND COiJNTY DEPOSITORY. Transar?a a general Banking business. Also has A Savings Bank Department. Deposits of $1.00 and upwards received, interest calculated at the rate of 4 pee cent, per annum, payable quarterly. W. P. B. HAYNSWORTrT, A. WHITS, Ja., President. Cashier. Angil. KEW. MMM, Agent, -DEALER IN DRUGS & Mli?l, TOUT SOAPS, PERFUMERY AND ALL KINDS OF Druggist's Sundries USOALL ' rr? VA FIRST-CLASS DRDQ ?TORS. Tobacco, Ifliiff and Segars, GARDEN SEEDS, &C., -ALSO Paints, Oils, Varnishes, QJiASS, PUTTY, &c. aim DYE STUFFS. Physician's Prescriptions carefully com poo ri? ed, and orders answered with -care And dispatch. Tiie pabiic will find my stock of Medicines complete, warranted genu? ine, and of the best quality. Cali and see for yourselves. For infants and Children. Castoria promete? Digestion, and overcomes Flatulency, Constipation, Sour Stomach, Diaxrhcea, and Feverishness. Thus the child is rendered health j and its sleep natural Castoria contains no Morphine or other narcotic property. M Castoria is se well adapted to children that X recommend it as superior to any prescription known to me." H. A. ARCHER, M. D-, Ul South Oxford St,, Brooklyn, N. Y. "I use Castoria in my practice, and find it specially adapted to affections of children." Aux. ROBKBTSOX, M. D., i I 1057 2d Ave., New Yonr. "From personal knowledge and observation ! 1 less say that Castoria is an excellent medicine I , for children, acting as a laxative and relieving1 ? the pent np bowels and general system very much. Many mothers have told me of its ex? cellent effect upon their children." Da. G. C. OSGOOD, Lowell, Mass. fiat CKKTACK COXPANY, 77 Murray Street, N. Y. - Hil? popular remedy newer falls to effectually en re Dyspepsia, Constipation, Sick * Headache, Biliousness Aii? ali diseases arising from a Torpid Liver and Bad Digestion. The natural result is {rood appetite and tolld fies*, nose small ; elegant* ty saar coated and easy to swallow. SOLD EVERYWHERE. CAT?RR fees! Try the Cure Ely's Cream Bal m Oeanses the Nasal Passages. Al? lays IiAtemmai toa. Heals tho Sore3. Restores the Senses of Taste, Smell and Hearing. A particle is applied into each nostril find fsasrceeabl*. Price 50r. nt I>rw:<ris'? or by Ba?a. 3LY BROTHERS,56 Warren St-.2iew York. i *X V mw jfe^sB^'' ii -'J:*. ? hwy rr". Kt'-n )Py^ f^W!:i"'T' ct ruine from #J to H.Hali^U?Si Co.,J??xV??>i*:?r?l:?n?J.Maine reOCO. PA n ye*. : < br?n? marj* Tir John R Goodwin, I roy.X. \?<-rk f><r n?. Kerntet; yoa nia y n->t mi.k- as jnuch. out M *? , Mn teach y?>n (|uirk!y liotr to .-?ni fr.-m to to SI0a ?ta? at the .-?;irt, .-.nd m?re ??yon po on. ISfih ^fx?-*, ail ai:<->. lu any j ?ri cf America. v<4i cac euisiiieurr ul honte, civ rig al! y oar lixn*.fr ijisrr moments only :o tba work. AU is near. <>re*t j.ay Sl"Kr U r .wary worker. We Mnrt roo. fumi'lihrsr erenr?}imir. EASILY, SPEEMLY Jenrorrt. l'AltrUTLAKS ECEE. A Mress at cr ?f to., ; oin LAM?, 2Lii.\fc IMriypoipil. By JDLL?J5 EAWTHOE??E. Ccjyiiiht, ?S90, by An eiiean Press Association.] 1 CONTINUED.! SYNOPSIS. IN CHAPTER 1 Gen Inigo, a prominent im? presario, confides to Hamilton Jocelyn, a man about town, th??t ?Marana, a Russian prima donn?, engaged at enormous expense to open hi3 new opera house iu New York, has cabled .hat she cannot keep her contract. Jocelyn off-rs to find an acceptable subslitute at once. CHAPTER 2 introduces to the reader Beatrix Randolph, a thoroughly trained amateur, possessing a remarkable voice and struggling tinder financial an(* social reverses. She lives with ber widowed father on heavily ineum bered estates np the Hudson. CHAPTER 3 brings Gen. Inigo and Jocelyn, who is an old acquaintance of the Randolphs, to their retired homestead, and Beatrix is en srsEed al a large salary to impersonate Ma? ra?a, using the Russian's name. IK CHAFTSR 4 Mr. Geoffrey Bellingham, a rising yocng architect, who is superintending work on the new opera house, suggests some changes to Gen. Inigo and wins a high com? pliment. Is CHAPTER 5 Jocelyn, acting as a friend of all concerned, arranges temporary quarters for Beatrix in New York and secures a chaperon for her, inadvertently showing him? self to be a man of shady antecedents, living by -his wits. CHAPTER 6 brings the heroine, in the assumed character of Marana, before New Yory society. She meets Geoffrey Belling? ham at a dinner given in her honor by a rich patron of the muses. Is CHAPTER 7 the new diva finds herself among friends, enemies and lovers, and sufferers annoyances common to novices a-d peculiar to the operatic stage. Jocelyn and Inigo quarrel and the former is accused of having a mercenary interest in Beatrix. ls CHAPTER 8 the new Marana appears io her firat performance and is "crowned queen of New York for the sake of two or three hours' swttet singing." In the midst of the triumphs ber thoughts are on Bellingham, with whom she shares ber happiness. On her part, however, this happiness is not without alloy because of the deception she is practicing hefore him. Herfaiber now arrives in New York. Is CHAPTER 9 Geoffrey Bellingham meets Mr. Randolph in asocial way and has some suspicions aroused. He afterward witnesses familiarities beiween father and daughter, which, of course, he cannot understand, and seeks explanation from the diva. These she declines to make. Afterward Bellingham see3 Beatrix embrace her father as she leaves her carriage at the stage door. CHAPTER 10-Overborne with chagrin and jealousy Bellingham sails for Enrope, where he meets Edward Randolph, the spendthrift brother of Beatrix and author of her father's financial distiess, escorting the real Marana on a tour of pastime. The news from America has starred he wrath of the pleasure loving pair, _ad young Randolph denounces Inigo and bis sporious Marana, threatening exposure and prosecution. Bellingham advises him to return to New York and look after his father, taking Marana with bim. CHAPTER ll-Jocelyn, finding bis rival, Bellingham, out of the way becomes bold and forces his attentions upon Beatrix .In the end she dismisses him from her preseuce. CHAPTER XIL "TO BE BOXEST, AS THIS "WORLD GOES." "There's nothinq in it that you may not sec; w?X you recul it?" Mr. Wallie Dinsmore had boen in? dulging in a good deal of casuistry of late, owing to a desire ' to reconcile bis theory that human beings ought "to help one another with his temperamental aversion to being mixed up?n other peo? ple's affairs. He might have evaded the rltiSV-uIty by handing over the matter which troubled him to Mrs. Cadwala&er; but that would only have been an indi? rect way of forcing his own hand. He smoked a great number of cigars, seated in his study chair, and incidentally tried to stare his great white owl out of coun? tenance; but he hesitated still. One morning while thus occupied he heard a carriage stop at the door and a card was brought up to him. Contrary to his usual custom in such cases, be jumped nj?, tossed his cigar into the fire, gave a pull to his collar and a jerk to his coat, and bade the servant conduct Mlle. Marana upstairs. By the time she appeared he had re? covered his genial serenity. He shook hands wita her with the quiet cordiality of a man constantly in the habit of receiv? ing famous prime donne in his private sitting room, and at the same time gave the servant a look which intimated that he would be not at home while this visit? or remained. "You come in good season," said he: "the owl and 1 have just been talking about you." "I did not ask for Mrs. Dinsmore," be? gan the prima donna. "Well, I know," interposed Wallie. "1 have often tried to persuade her that the morning is the proper time to receive calls, but she is still wedded to her superstitions. You must try to put up with me. I believe I should make a pretty good aunt." The lady felt the kindness with which he endeavored to put her at her ease,, , and a faint color dawned in her cheeks, j n( He went on: w "I see by the papers that you are soon ^ to leave us. It must be pleasant to you sj to feel how much respect and regard, as a, well as renown, you have won since you j fj came here. I hope it may soon bring you j |1; back to us?"' "Do you respect me, Mr. Dinsmore?" demanded she, fixing her eyes on him. "You were an enigma to me at first," he replied immediately, "but I respected j jl( 3*ou involuntarily, even before 1 knew i fc that I was right in doing so." He met hot look as he spoke, and she felt that he spoke what he meant. "I came to ask you to help mc respect myself," she said, with a pause between. "Did yon know that I was an actress as well as a singer?" "I knew what you refer to the first ! moment we met," answered he. with a ! yx friendly sm?e. "I had seen Mlle. Ma- j w rana abroad." j js She did not need to ask him whether ! t , he had kept her secret. Between per- ! Qj sons of a certain order of integrity as- cj surances of such a kind are superfluous. ; {\} She breathed a sigh of relief. He had ; m ?mown, and yet had not withheld his re- ! a^ ?X>ect, the respect cf a gentleman. Her 1 %v IHIII - ililli -wnrrm sad heart began to take a little courage. "I think I know your father. Mr. Ran? dolph," he resumed, -with the slighted accent of interrogation. "You must not think me a Paul Pry, but Mr. Randolph is a gentleman of the old school, not a good dissimulator, and he accidentally betrayed himself to me one day without knowing it. Perhaps I ought to have confessed to him, but I am a wretchedly undecided mortal about such things, and I hiive been debating for the last month what I had better do. More than a month; in fact, ever since Geoffrey Bellingham went away." As he carelessly uttered the last words his glance passed over her. She did not move an eyelid. Her breath stopped for a few moments, but that could not be seen. "She has already learned some things, poor girl!" thought Wallie to himself. "Your main object in entering the pro? fession must be nearly achieved," he presently continued, as she remained silent. "You think it was only the object that justified me?" she said quickly. "If I were you," he replied, "I would be myself in the future." "But can I sing any more?" "Speaking for the public, I should say sing on forever. You have gained a footing from which nothing can dislodge ?rou. You need no other woman's repu? tation, and the public will easily forgive you the ruse you have put upon them; indeed they have nothing to forgive." "I would rather you found fault with ?ne than made it easy for me," she said, reith a tremor in her voice. "There is no one else I can go to." "I don't fhink you need a scolding,r returned Wallie, with his kindly smile. "The past is done with. I can imagine rou have had an uphill time of it in nany ways. But you have gone far to ?ehabilitate completely Mlle. Marana's rharacter, and I should fancy she would >e very reluctant to have it known that ;he cannot claim the merit of the vindi :ation. Another season you would irobab?y be free from vulgar annoyance, ;ven were you to continue your present Lisguise, but in your own name and with he outside protection which it would nable you to command you would be >erfectiy secure. However, I sha'n't pre end to advise you, Mademoiselle-Miss landolph. In the first place I am an nterested party-I want you to go on inging for my own benefit; and, fur hermore, I cannot tell how far the Measures of the profession may seem to ou to outweigh the drawbacks-or vice ersa." "It's the only thing Tm good for hat's all," said she, looking up at him. "I wonder what Geoffrey would say to hat?" thought Wallie. "By Jove!'it's utrageous what fools these boys and iris will be. They will-they seem to ike it! Well, then, they deserve to hav<? heir little miseries, don't they? Of ourse they do! I wish 1 were"-he hecked himself and-dropped his eyes, rhich had dwelt too long upon her love? less. "Come, come." he said to him elf severely, "this will never do. At *nd to your business, old two-and-forty, nd pay proper reverence to vour daugh ar!" He got up and said aloud: "Miss Randolph, I'm going to ask you great favor. I'm an old man, as I eedn't tell you, and I am a slave to my abits. Would j-ou permit me to smoke cigarette? What small wits I have go opelessly wool gathering if I don't keep lem together with a little tobacco." Miss Randolph smiled. "My father always smoked," said she. It would make me feel at home." "Dear me!" thought Wallie ruefully, she might have let me off as an el dei rother! But she takes me at my own aluation-bless her heart! Now let us ?e what can be done." He lit his cigarette, and sent the noke curling through his nose. "Art : certainly a great resource," he observ 1, "and a noble one. It has been said, nd it may be true, that it admits of no vals. If one's affections are unoccu ied-one's human affections, I mean ad are likely to remain so, I dare say ne could not do better than to devote ae's self wholly to art. You feel, you iv, that there is nothing else you could ossibly prefer to it; that you were lade for music and for nothing else?" "Nothing else," she repeated in a usky voice, feeling as if, with those -ords, she had surrendered her last se ret of hope of happiness. "This will come out all right," thought Vallie to himself cheerfully; "if that ss Geoffrey were only here it might be ?ttled on the spot." Aloud he said: That being the case, i don't see how ou could be more fortunately situated, fith you circumstances, expediency | nd inclination all pull together, it was ot so with a young friend of mine ace who showed remarkable talent for ie stage. She had got so far as to make er debut, with every prospect of BUC .ss. when she was unlucky enough to di in love with-aud be fallen in love ith by-a young gentleman of good tinily here, a lawyer. You will ardly believe it, Miss Randolph, cm are so differently constituted in very way from her," continued Wallie, rarely; "but when she discovered that e would feel pained if she remained on ic stage she actually gave up her whole weer! And they were married, and ie has never been heard of in a public ay since. And she seems very happy x>! But she could never have had the ?me single hearted devotion to art that ou have." "I can-understand lier being happy, lough," said Miss Randolph, almost in ; whisper. Then Wallie's heart smote j . ?rn that he had played upon her. After j 2, what did he know about what had > . .curred between her and Geoffrey? | , here may have been a veritable trage- j \ y instead of an ordinary lover s misnn- j . ^.standing. As a matter of fact lie had j j .o suspiciou of the tragi-comic mistake j ', .hieb, was the immediate cause of their i j para ti on. He thought it probable that ! ( ie had revealed her true name to him. ? , id supposed that they had differed on ? ie "public career" m:".?i ion, which he j id just illustrated in .able. ? ' In order to give himself and her time \ ^ ?r reflection he took up the cou versa- ? on at another point. "In the ovent of j mr accepting another engagement." ! r ; said, "I suppose Inigo would be the : j ?rtunate man?" ? "Nothing has been decided about : t lat," she replied, falling with a sense of lief into tlie business tone. "1 have j ^ ?en told-that is. it seems that there ay be a difficulty I had not thought of- 1 legal trouble. This money that I have * .en receiving." she went on. after a wise, "hasbeen paid.of course, io Mlle ; 1 arana. The agreement according to hieb it is paid is signed by her-that . . not by me. So it seems that legally | ?ui only her representative-her dep- * :y. as it were, and she can. if she looses, demand that I make over all * ie money to her. But of course all the oney, or most of it. has I ?cen paid vay for-to my father, so you see there 1 ould be trouble." "Humph!" ejaculated Wallie, taking i a pinch of his mustache between Iiis ' thumband forefinger. He meditated for a while, staring at the owl, which si? lently returned his gaze. "Who is your lawyer?" he inquired at length. "I haven't any." "Was it Inigo who" "No-he-I don't know whether it had occurred to him." The truth was that Hamilton Jocelyn, in requital of the in? jury to his feelings, had written the prima donna a letter, in? which he had advanced the above suggestion: and lie had further announced that it was his purpose immediately* to acquaint the real Marana with the position of affairs, and to offer her his services ia the event of a prosecution. It is doubtful whether he really contemplated any action of the kind, but it would not have softened the unloveliness of his present sensations could he have known that Beatrix was not in the least surprised or shocked at the position he had taken. It seemed to her quite in keeping with his character. "She might give you some annoy? ance," Wallie admitted, after further consultation with the owl, "but Tm by no means sure 3he could obtain a ver? dict. I imagine she must have writ ren to Inigo, definitely withdrawing from the engagement, and hence his substitution of you. Was that the way of itr "Yes: and I believe she paid the for? feit." "Then I don't think you need worry. There can at any rate be no doubt that yor. have done the singing, and as sing? ing is paid nowadays, four thousand dol? lars a night is none too much for it." "It was three thousand the first month, and thirty-three hundred afterward," put in tho prima donna. "Inigo certainly told me when he re? turned from Europe last June that he got Marana for four thousand a night," Wallie affirmed. 'But probably he took advantage of your being a debutante to cut it down." "Mr. Jocelyn-that is, I think not; I was told that I received the same that she was to have had." "Hamilton Jocelyn? Is he mixed up in this affair?" inquired Wallie, with an air of dissatisf-iction. She had intended not to bring Joce lyns nauie into the conversation, but as it had slipped out she now thought it best to say, "It was he who intro? duced me to Gen. Inigo, and he has been neting as my agent-paying me the money. And he said," she added, wish? ing to do her enemy justice, "that it was by his exertions that Gen. Inigo was per r-uaded to raise my salary after the first month." Wallie threw away bis cigarette and rubbed his nose. "Well." he said, pres? ently, "I dare say Jocelyn knew what he was about. I should like to hear what he has to say in Inigo's presence. Impresarios and agents are human, and need looking after o:^^sionally." "What I thought was." she resumed, "that if it should turn out I had no legal right to the money, 1 should really have to make some more, whether I liked it or not. It would have to be made in some way, you know, and papa-and there seems to be no other way but for me to go on singing, if I can get an en? gagement." "As to that," said Wallie smiling, "if I wanted to make a fortune I would turn impresario and make you my single in? vestment. Let us assume, for argument's sake, that from the pecuniary stand? point you are perfectly free either to go on or not. NotV, of conrse there are ways in winch you might cultivate mu? sic without keeping in opera. You could sing at a church, or, when you felt in the mood, at a private or public concert. But there is something else in the pro? fession besides the singing-there is the audience. Do you know what I mean?" "Yes," said she, in a low voice. "It is a magnificent stimulant," he continued. "There is no other to com? pare with it in the world. Tb'w say when you have once felt the delight of it nothing is so difficult as to givt? it up. Hiere is nothing that you would ex? change for it." "That is not true!" said she, lifting 1er head. In a moment she added: "But [ have felt that it would be a great con? solation." Wallie glanced up, and she ' slushed. He rose again from his chair and took mother cigarette from the box on the ow bookcase. Then lie went to another .>lace for a match, which he scratched underneath the mantelpiece. Then he it the cigarette and threw the burnt md of the match in the fire, after having shaken it rapidly to and fro to extinguish t. She watched him half absently, bunking what a good fellow he was, low quiet, how honest, how kind, how mick of apprehension. But through lim, beyond him, in his place she was 1 seeing another figure, which she never loped to behold again in reality. Oh, ,~he perversity of human affairs! Hie goodness that we meet with is not the ! goodness that we want: the evil that lappeus to tis is not the punishment of ' >ur evil! Wallie glanced at her through the smoke of his cigarette with sympa ;hetic interest, half sad, half humorous, rhe heavy fur lined cloak that she wore ( vas thrown back on thc chair; her head caned backward, showing the white ;hroat; her richly made, close fitting ilack dress revealed the lithe beauty of 1er figure; there was a soft dimness ibout her eyes; a little strand of bright . lair had strayed across her forehead. How mournful she looked! How easily >he might l>e happy! How gladly lie ( vould make her so! But those who have . :he good will have not the power, and i 'hose who have the power- "I hope ! ] o gracious!" exclaimed Wallie to him- ' * self, "that he is suffering tho torments )f thc damned! I may have been a fool j n my time, but nothing should ever . lave made me turn my back on a wo? llan like that!" And ho reseated him? self with a resentful vehemence that irew a creaking remonstrance from bin ! trmchair. 1 e "Do you think. Miss Randolph," he ' ' isked, "that the time would ever come : ' vhen you would prefer the consolation j ;o the-tiling it consoled yon for?" | . "A consolations only-a^onsolation." : j ?he replied, with a little smile. '.But j rou must not 'bink that 1 am-was j aeaning airvthi.: - except ina general ! t vay. I should only find it more tire- \ onie than usa to have nothing to do : | low that I know what it i.- to do some- : , hing." I } "Speaking i:i a general way, however, \ lon't you thin:; it would by unwise o seek coiisolal ion as such until one ' r vas quite certain, beyond thc possibility ? >f a doubt, that consolation was the ' ; bing one needed?" I > "Oil. ci course there can be no doubt !" j he answered. But there was in lier oiic. and i:i the sudden, inquiring ex- x Mansion of her eyes, n feeling less of con- ^ iction than of misgiving and suspense, \ is if the earnest emphasis with which he lad spoken had led h -r tb suspect that (l ie might know something, of great mo ment to her. He had no such knowl? edge, bat he had a strong- persuasion that she was the victim of a misfortune that might be set right: and he per? ceived that the time was now come when he might speak to her openly on the subject which had all along been in both their minds. But as he opened hie month to do so there was a knock at the door, and the servant came in with a letter. "The messenger boy's waiting, sir," he said, "and wants to know if there's au answer." "Tell him," said Wallie sternly, "to goto"- He stopped. The handwriting on the envelope had caught his eye. "If you will excuse mer" he said, glancing at his visitor, while he tore the letter open. He took in its contents with a look. "No answer-I'll answer it in person," he said to the servant, who with? drew. "Miss Randolph," said Wallie, stand? ing in front of her with the letter in hts hand, and a peculiar smile on his face, "this is from a friend of mine whom you know. There's nothing in it that you may not see; will you read it?" She took thc letter, saw the signature, let her hand fall to her lap for a mo? ment, then lifted it again and read as follows: DEAR WAI.UE:-I returned this morning. In Indand I met a young fellow named Randolph, with a Indy, A ho turned ont tobe Mlle. Marana. I didn't know what to think, but came on at once in order to warn her namesake here. At the hotel I found K.-.ndolph and his father. It ap? pears that the former and Marana had arrived a few hours before me on another steamer. Our Marana went out this morning, no one knows where. From something I happened to hear old Randolph say to his son I begin to suspect I have made an astonishing and wicked blunder. I will explain when 1 see j-ou, which must bo at once. The two ladies mast not meet at present, if we can help it. If you get this ia time meet me here at I o'clock. G. BELLINGHAM. "Shall we go to the hotel together?" said Wallie, when she had read the let? ter. "No. I cannot see him. Oh, my broth erf ' she pressed her hands over her face, and bent her head down on the arm of the chair. "I think," said Wallie gently, after a pause, "that Mrs. Dinsmore has just come in. I know she'll want you to stay to lunch. Shall I tell her you're here?" "Let me go to her," said Beatrix, ris? ing suddenly and moving blind!}* toward the "toor. Wallie drew her arm beneath his and led her out. Ten minutes later he was on his way up town. CHAPTER XLTX HOW UER BROTHER WAS PUNISHED. u After fifteen minuten I await Gen. hy When Wallie reached the hotel he met Geoffrey in the vestibule. "Ton had better have stayed at home and built my cottage for me," remarked the former, as they shook hands. "You don't do going-to-Europe well." "I have something to tell" "I know all about it. I'vo been chat? ting with the lady the last .hour. Tm disappointed in you. You should have married her first, and site would have left the stage of her own accord after? ward." "That was not the question. But how did you know" "That voit wanted to marry her? I ara only mad north-northeast. When the wind is in the south * * * But sue's too good for you." "The point is, that she is the daugh? ter" "Great Scott! Do you mean to say you didn't know who she is?" "Did you?" "I? Of course. I knew the other one, in tho first place. But didn't she tell you?" "Do you suppose," said Geoffrey grave? ly, "that I would have gone to Europe if I had known that the man whom 1 saw * * * that there was all that mystery about, was her own father?" Wallie stared at his friend a moment md then laughed. "This is very sud," said he. "And, if I am not mistaken, rou were with 'ne that day when Ran lolph came in and gave himself away However! What aro you going to do?" "Tho real Marana is here, or rather, it the Albemarle. 1 want to know what she is going to do. She may de? cide to make trouble." "There is one obstacle in her way, fortunately." "What?" "Well, it would be awkward for her ;o prosecute the sister of her lover." "He is her lover only in the sense that ie wants to marry her." "What about that hundred thousand lollars he got rid ofr"" "It is ;is I say, nevertheless." And jreoffrcy gave his friend a synopsis of vhat Helwise had told him on the sub? ject. "In that case there is all the more rea? son for her to keep quiet," said Wallie. "Then why did she come to America?" .reoffrey inquired. "Have you seen her on the subject?" "I have had no opportunity yet." "Well, leave it to me. You aro not a liplomatist. This young Randolph has jot himself in a nice position! If Miss Beatrix was not his sister, or if Marana vere not his lady love, he conld take a land on one side or the other; but as it s ho's helpless both ways. I should think j ie would feel tired. What sort of a fol- j a ow is he?" . j c "He seemed well enough the little I've j ;een of him." j I "1 sec; yon think of him as your future h >rother-in-law," said Wallie smiling, v .But don't be too comfortable. That r "Oung lady is not to l>o played fast and li obse with." "Oh, Fm not comfortable!" said Gooff- t .ey gloomily. a "Well, I won't hit you while you're v Iflwn, but if yon get np again, look out! ?Vhere is this young scamp?" ; li "Up stairs, I believe, with his father." " "I'll have a hack at him, to begin vith. You may as wei) keep yourself to ?ourself until you hear from me again. .Ve can't afford any moro blunders," He sent up his- card, and was conduct .d to t he room where the Randolphs, fa thor and son, were. The latter wat? j walking up and down the floor, while ? the former stood with his back to the fire, looking as high shouldered and dig? nified as possible. "I am here," said Wallie pleasantly, after the formalities were over, "unof? ficially, on behalf of the lady who has been singing the past season under the name of Mlle. Marana." "Mr. Dinsmore," said Randolph, Sr., twisting his eyebrow sternly, "you are perhaps not aware that the lad}- is imder my especial charge." "I have known for some months that she is your daughter, Mr. Randolph, but no one is aware that she is under your especial charge." "I do not understand you, sir!" said Mr. Randolph fiercely. "You told me several weeks ago, in the presence of my friend Bellingham, who remembers it, that you had but the slightest acquaintance with her. And your charge of her has amounted to so ittle that she lias today come to mo, who had no right to expect such an honor, for counsel and protection." This was said quietly, but with a cer? tain warmth and emphasis that abashed Mr. Randolph a good deal. He turned red, and opened his mouth once or twice, as though to speak, but no words came. Hereupon Edward Randolph put in his oar. "Whatever may have been my sister's position before my arrival, sir," said he, **it's another thing now. Til look out for her." "If you do it will be but a tardy re? turn for the services she has rendered you during the last few months," re? turned Wallie, with a peculiar bright? ness in his gray eyes. "I don't recognize your right to med? dle in our family affairs," cried Ed an? grily. "Your family affairs are liable to be public property before long. I intend for the sake of Miss Randolph to prevent it if possible," said Wallie composedly. "Perhaps Mr. Dinsmore will explain himself," suggested Randolph, senior, in a less defiant tone. "I wish to find out from you, before resorting to other means, whether Mlle. Marana means to take measures to assert any rights she may believe herself to have in this matter," answered Wallie, fixing his eyes on Ed. Ed looked at his father, but made no reply. "And in case she does," Wallie re? sumed. "I wish to know whether you, Mr. Edward, intend to act with her or against her?" "He will act against her; I will an? swer for that!" put in Randolph, senior, with decision. "I prefer to answer for myself, sir!" retorted Ed, frowning upon his parent. "Answer for yourself, sir?" repeated the older gentleman excitedly. "You'll have enough to answer for then, I can assure you! You will have to answer for the fortune that you have dissipated, sir-a fortune which belonged to you no more than it does to this gentleman hero present. Where would you be, I should like to know, if your sister-your sister, who had never before been out of her father's house-had not paid your disso? lute debts with the money which she earned with her owu hands-voice, 1 mean-sir? How is a good for nothing fellow who robs his father of money to spend on a loose woman, and lets him? self be supported by his sister" "Father, Mlle. Marana is not" "Hold your tongue, sir! Never mind what Mlle. Marana is not; I and every? body else know wliat she is! And you stand there before me a beggar, without a cent in your pocket, except what your mistress may have had the compassion to give you, and tell me you will do as you please! By the Lord, sir" "I will not permit any man alive to slander that lady," called out young Mr. Randolph, in a white heat of wrath. "She is a lady, every inch of her. Who? ever says tho contrary lies! You may revile me all you like-I'll not say a word; though, .os Mr. Dinsmore here told you, you abandoned my sister to the insults of all the blackguards in town, for the sake of the money she was putting into your pocket. Mr. Dinsmore," he ad?ed, turning to that personage, "you are a gentleman and ill speak to you. You see how 1 stand, ind you can't wish me to feel more hu? miliated than I do. I love my sister Sod knows it-in spite of all the trouble [Ve brought on hor. She has replaced the money I spent, and not a cent of it will I ever touch, if I have to st'irve in the ; streets. But when I found on landing in Sew York today thnt it was my sister who had been taking Mlle. Marana's :ilace, I knew I was done for. Tho two women in this world, whom I love and lonor, by George! are set against each )ther, and I who would defend either of em with my life, can do nothing. After punishment like that, it's not your ; dirieking and stamping that can malee : nc feel any worso," he said, looking his lather in the face. At tliis point Wallie thought the time ; ?vas come to interpose. He had loss sympathy with tho father than with the ?on, whoso chief crime, after all, seemed : 0 be that he had lost bis- head and his ; tense of personal responsibilit}* for love's 1 lake. It was no more than justice that 1 x)th of them should be arraigned for ?heir l>ehavrOr, and it was poetical jus- i ice that the arraignment of each shoo lil :omo from tho other. But it had gone i ar enough, and was not in itself agree- 1 ible for a third person to listen to. "I think thc best thing to do," ho said. < .is to go to Mlle. Marana at once and earn how she feels about it. The mat- 1 er may perhaps bo arranged quietly, f you'll come with mo, Mr. Edward, ; veil do what we can." : "All right," returned El, whose fit of ( age had left him in a very depressed md tractable state. "I'll do whatever I 1 'ou advise." 5 "And I wash my hands of you, sir!'* i v xelaimed Randolph, Sr., to his son, as j I he latter moved toward thc door. But j I "kl took no notice of this farewell shot, j i ,nd he remained pretty much silent all j : he way down to the Albemarle, where | c hey presently found themselves in the j v .rivatc sitting room of Mrs. Peters, ns , > he still preferred to call herself. ? c She had boen sitting at the piano, but ! v s the gentlemen entered she rose and } ame to meet them. "I have the memory of meeting you i ?efbre," she said to Wallie, as she gav.) ; im her h.wid. whose softness contrasted . } sith the bright hardness of the jeweled J t in^s she wore. She looked at Ed, but j < nade no remark to bini. "I had given up the hope of seeing yon ? , his season. Diva," observed Wallie, with \ smile. "Yon drove Gen. Inigo to his i \ vifs end." ! < "That would be fartb?T than \ would j j ike to go myself," she replied quietly. ; j 1 think he did not stay long there hin?- s elf." Her beautiful face was ostini and ; { uite impenetrable. If she meant mis- > hief. she meant it ven* deep down. She j id not smile, but neither was there any \ I ?gu of suppressed anger in her tranquil f en rin.;. 1 j "It is my fortune to be well acquaint? ed with- the lady who has been singing here m your stead," said W "lie, who perceived that it would bc useless to beat about the bush with a woman of her caliber and temperament. "As she is the lister of your friend Mr. Randolph, I hop?? to see you friends with her also," "It Ls my way to keep the things of business apart from the things of friend? ship," returned Marana with the slow distinctness that marked her utterance of English. "Edward," she continued, turning to that unhappy young man, "M. Dinsmore has your confiance? He knows of yonr-foolishness, yes?" "He's all right," asserted the you Mi. with a heavy sigh. "Be so good, then, mon cher, to gc down stairs a little and smoke your cigar. Jt is not three who are compa? ny," said she, with a ccVtain aroma of tenderness in her tone, which (Wallie fancied) was more involuntary than con scions. "Now, monsieur." she continued when they were alone, "after fifteen minute* I await Gen. Inigo. Up till that I am all yours." And she leaned back in lier chair and rested one hand within tho other in her lap. "The general will no doubt answer for himself-that is not my affair," said Walbo. "But 1 should like to know whether you perceive any distinction be? tween his accountability and that of this young lady?" "You would say it is his fault, bu1 only her misfortune." "To tell you the truth, Diva, the fault seems to me to lie between all three of you, but less lielongs to her than to either Inigo or you." "It is not I who apportion the fault, monsieur; but if 1 say the truth shall be known then the affair must turn out as it will." "But you know that the only one to stiffer would be the sister of Mr. Ran? dolph." A slight movement of the under lids of Marana's eyes showed that she appre? ciated the significance of Wallie's para? phrase for her rival. "In our profession, monsieur," she said, shrugging one shoulder and looking aside, "we have the necessity to each defend himseli without regard of person." "There are two reasons why people fight-one to inflict injury, and the other tb get some advantage for them? selves. Ls yours the first?" "Why should you assume it, mon? sieur?" inquired the Russian. "Because in this case there is no ad? vantage to be derived. And, besides, though I can imagine Mlle. Marana wishing to crush a rival, I cannot im? agine her condescending to make a ques? tion of money." "I had begun to think that M. Dins? more was too truthful to make any com? pliments," said Marana with a leisurely smile that enhanced the beauty of her face. "There may be more respect in what one leaves unsaid than" "Ah! I comprehend that also. But consider it: if I have spent all my life in trying to sing well, and then I find that some one has borrowed my name, so that her singing is thought to be mine-then all that I have done in my life is for noth? ing. We singers, monsieur, have only our voice: when that is still there is no more of ns. If it is taken from us we have nothing left. We put into it all our souls and our hearts, and we work many years-it is work and not play, monsieur -and we have many hard things, many straggles, sometimes we lose everything that other persons love, even love itself Well, you see, i would inore gladly givr to some lady all the money that I have earned in my life, and my jewels, and my dresses, than I would permit that, when she sings, the audience should say. .That is Marana!'" Wallie looked down, and made no answer. "You have reminded me," she went on after a few moments, "that this lady is the sister of Edward. Yes, he has very often told mc of her; and that we were a little alike-poor boy, he means of one aspact, one presentment; as for the rest, he knows of me only what 1 have been to him. My other history was not of imprest to him: perhaps he would not believe it, even if I told it to him: but, at least, he disked me to I? his wife, atid though I said no it wa.? not because I feared that he might coast* to love me because of what he might after? ward come to know. Yon may laugh at it, monsieur, but I think he would still love me, notwithstanding all of it." There was something nobL- anti touching in the wa}' Marana said this. Wallie did not feel at all inclined to laugh, and his face perhaps showed it. "I said no." she resumed: "but later, when I found what he had done, I said ves, so that I might help to make right, and also because it is pleasant for a singer like me to think she can give something to her husband1 in return for being his wife. But then he would not: in that he was like other mm who wish tn every way to be thc master. But yet. monsieur, there is time to think again," she added, suddenly altering her tone. Mid looking at him keenly; "a woman lias much power over the man who love.?* lier, if she will use il!" "I do not doubt it at all," said Wallie, meeting her look. "Do you think 1 would have power to tnake him say. "Well, she is my sifter. ?nu she has done what was not just? V7ou shall treat her ;us if she were any >thor woman, and 1 will say nothing: 1 trill help yon?'" continued the Russian, reith a subtle smile. "I really believe you might," Wallie raswered. "Dv.t i can't conceive that ron would care to have him do it, or .are for Mm if he did do it/' "Ah! but with ussingoi-s it can bedif erent.** rejoined Marana, bending upon lim a gaze of dark, ambiguous brillian .y. "lt is much for us to know, and so t >rove it to the world, that wc arti loved 1 )eyor.d measure: yes. beyond honor, it : s a triumph, and we love triumphs- < m! who knows how dearly? Men do all ? hey can to rain ns, monsieur, and the ; vorld laughs and?gives us no mercy. Do ( ?on not think it might be sweet to make ! j ?ne man'your slave, so that he would do j ; .our bidding in all things and worship ?. "OU?" ( "Aro you so much in need of a tri- ; itnphefiiu:t kind?" demanded Wallie, i C:.v-. whether he so intended it er not. : ? taratan evident!} iaterpretea the quos- ? i ion a.< a covert lau lutter satire. She * rave a little seit laugh and arose. j 1 "At last, then, we understand each <? ?th**r!" shesaid. "I; is much easier so. t s if not? Yen are too clever for me. M. 1 )insmcre; y?>u are not a ma*.i to.-be de- 1 :ei.ved. Yes. in this world, as the s "mich Fay. il faut accepter les hommes 2 >our ce qu'ils scut-nies moyens! We t inger** especially must use all thing; t or our protection or profit. Tiens s k * * drole! Did "yon-'think, for your tart, yon should pei>uade me io forgive ? da'm'se??e Randolph because I make a t bol of her bret her' Bah! 1 am a bnsi- ii less woman. Business i? not sentiment. ? thick! Enfin.- nrsieu'.-1 hare enjoyed very much the honor of your visit: foi de Marana-, vous ?tes ambassadeur par? faitement accompli! But your hitler Ma moselle Randolph has- af future al? ready happy in the protection*of a man. like you; she will not grudge me the lit? tle that belongs to the true Marana! Au revoir, eher ami!" And, laughing snce more, she gave him her hand \\ith-a free gesture, and Wallie bowed over it with a mingling of admiration and vexation such as he was seldom kindled to. He liad recognized his mistake the moineut after it was ir? revocable. "Well?" said Ed, getting up- with a haggard face from his chair in the smok? ing room ns Wallie entered. "Well," responded Wallie, "there is no doubt about one thing-she is the great Marana! I think you may a* welt come with me and see your sister," [70 BK CfON?fXCRD ] ? MODERN INSTANCE. John G ilmer Speed Writes of tho Roads' of An Isolated Township. As ago in America is reckoned,. Mend' ham, "N. J., is an old settlement. Tho church which stands on the hilltop and isa landmark for miles around was estab? lished, in its present location ? ?32 years ago. In the churchyard there are tombstones commemorating worthies who passed over to the groat majority ton, twenty and thirty years earlier. Until after the war this, an exclusively agricultural seciiour was prosperous in a moderate and quiet way. though there lias probably irc:n the beginning never dwelt within the town? ship a man- who could really be called rich. During, all this time and up to thc prcsent there has never been a mile of railroad in the township, and the fanners have been absolutely obliged to depend on the highways and country reads to get their surplus products to market. It is seven miles from. here to the county town, though only alx>ut f-tur miles- of this distance is within thc township. This is thc chief highway,and every man in the neighborhood is obliged to use this highway more or loss. Upon inquiry I found that the total mileage of the township roads is thirty five. If tliis tocal were divided into three classes we should have five miles in the first class, ten in the second-and twenty i n ; he third. These three classa I should define about in this way: 1st Class-The main highway over some pari of which all thc people of tho township must drive morder to transact business at the township village and postoffice and the county seat, 2d Class-Roads over which, ia reach the main highway, the dwellers in cer? tain sections must go. 3d Class- The roads subsidiary to those cf the second class and necessary to very few persons. How any of these roads carno to be located as they are I do not know. Cer? tainly they were not laid out with ref? erence to the topography of the coun? try. During the century and a half in whicii many of these roads have been opened there has been first and last a good deal of stone put in the center of the roads, but it is true also that there never has been a mile of road constructed in a method any engineer or skilled road builder would commend. The worst feature, however, is the method of main? taining these highways. For many years past the tax levy for roads has been $1.600 per year. Such a sum could not be expected to go very far with thirty five miles of road. But, then, the one principal highway across the township is only five miles long, and upon it, I think, fully one-half of this sum should be expended, while one-half of the other half should be ex? pended on each of the other classes. There seems to l>e no system, however, regulat? ing the expenditure of this money, which, by the way, is not money. But as to that directly: The township committee appor? tions thc levy among the various dis? tricts, each in charge cf a road overseer. In this, kissing goes very much by fa? vor, notwithstanding; the fact that every man on the committee, and indeed every man in the township, has a direct personal interest in bettering the condition of the roads. 13ut as they lack the knowledge -^without which roads can neither Tie built nor maintained-it does not make much difference how they divide up the spoil. When the spring planting is over the overseers summou the farmers to como and help work the roads. They know" that all of them mean to work out their tax, and their labor-is accounted for at $1.50 per day, when thc regular rate of hiring is only $1.2.*}. No one pays his road tax in money except those who are non-resident owners, and one or two others, perhaps. Thc overseers get their tuen out, and then it is bad time for the traveler. They don't work very hard, fortunately, and the levy is soon ex? hausted. Were it no- for these two merciful facts tho roads would be im? passable nearly all the time. Their method is simplicity itself. They plow np all the sod along the sides of the road ind throw ic into the center, together with what mud they can find in the Inches. All stones are carefully thrown igainst tho fences cn either side. This method of working the roads is in a sec io:: where nearly every field has on its jurfacc an abundance of loose stones, which only need to be broken slightly Lo uake the l>cst kind of road material, besides this there is au abundance of i in<stone easy of access and gravel as veil. Who can compute the amount of loss he various generations who have dwelt uro in the hist ecutury and a half have iastahied by reason of these ill con? ara } and wretchedly maintained iig; ays. lt would sicken ino to go ute- ho computation. ?\ ,.. ss to what it would cost to thor >a.i equip this township with excels eni ids. I estimate that $10.000 per vonld build the roads of the fisst ruu^-; $5.000 per milo those of thc second lass and ?2.000 ?KT mile those of tho hird. Tliis would make a total of ?1.30, K*K>. Ti tat seems an enormous sum when c is taken into consideration that the tssessor only found ?850,000 in the town hip last year. But look at it in an? ther way. This particular section is uliuirably adapted for country homes or cifcy people. The lovely bilis rise rnicefmly and green one over the other vt groups and stretches, until one cart asii) imagino while bore that it is an tallan sky above him and that be is ojourning in picturesque Tuscany. If he experience of Mr. Nevill, of Summity .o of value, the assessor would find at east $2.000.000 worth of property as oon ns tho roads had been built and ."5,000.000. or may bo more,- as soon as hr worl I. had 1 jamed that driving ia ho roads hereabout was a pleasure in tead of a pain. This 1 I fancy* a picture cf the COUK itiou of thousands of ncighlv?rhoods in ho Unit-; d States, ned I have only urawa : because w??i?a local i" is also v pical, ?ISO. CiL".:::?.- .