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TE EiRESS OF C UO HEIGHTS.
wN A.U TOBIOG A:FP~Y
BY TLORENCE E. DIAMOND.
What happened next I do not know, but
when I regained consciousness I was
lying on the pavement and the keen winter
wind fanned my temples. I was alive, yet
some one held my head. I turned to see
who it was and uttered a cry of surprise. It
was Oliver Dudley! I could not see plainly
in the glare of the burning 1. .iding. I sat
up at once. "Mr. Dudley !" I cried, but could
say no more, so overcome was I by the ter
rible scene through which I had passed.
"You are better now, Dorcas." he said,
his tones calm as thodkh we had met but
yesterday. "I must look after Miss Armund,
for I fear she is hurt. We should never have
.escaped but for her," he added, as he rose to
his feet and assisted me up.
"But for Miss Armund i" I said, breath
lessly. "Was she here !"
"Yes, it was her who found the side win
dow and forced it open," he answered.
"Surely she sprang through after us. Still
I can find no trace of her."
We searched through the different cwr
hers, going as near the burning building as
we dared, but no trace could we ind of the
missing woman. The crowd had somewhat
cleared from the front; there was a quiet
settling down on those who had escaped,
tFLING HER OCT THERE."
the dumb anguish of grief to the most. for
_iew families had escaped entire, while the
shrieks from the burning building had all
been hushed when the great walls fell in.
i Iwas still searching among the crowd for
trace of Miss Armund, when a call from
Mr. Dudley summoned me to him. I found
him bending over the still form of the poor
}old woman, whose white face looked still
and set as if in death. Her clothing was
tbadly burned, but her injuries must have
been mainly due to her fall on the briek
pavement. I raised her head and fanned
.her face, meanwhile rubbing the cold hands;
but no sign of life returning, I begged Mr.
Du e to t a carriage, if possible. ani
ihave her en to a house. He did so, but
et was when attempting to help the driver
lift her in that I observed his right arm was
helpless. I ran to help in his stead, inquir
lug if he was hurt.
"It is my arm," he said, steadily, though
ewas deadly pale. "I fear it is broken."
I could have knelt down at his feet in the
cold street and begged his forgiveness for
allthe unkind things I had ever said of him;
ibuthe motioned me to enter the carriage,
and, after giving the driver orders to drive
toMrs. Leiberg's, I did so. We entered the
greathouse that I had left a short hour be
fore in such gaiety and splendor, in sorrow
and mourning. Mr. Leiberg had escaped
unhurt, but his wife had been severely in
4jured by -the crush, we found. She was
on .a couch, pale. and still, gasping
fitywhen we bore Miss.Armund into the
The doctor who was attending Mrs. Lei
berg had the satisfaction of seeing her so-on
appear a little revived; but Miss Armund
,rnainea unconscious for ten hours, despite
the combined efforts of Mrs. Kent, the doc
:tar and myself to arouse her. But just at
dawn iherevived. I beat over her, asking
~softly if she was better. She looked up into
Msa strange gladness in hers, a sort
-dmn~fb joy that made my heart ache, but
rshe'deid not answer. The doctor gave her a
sleeping draught and then bade us all leave
th-room except Mrs. rent, who would
iWat~hwith the sick woman. I went to my
~roomand, after throwing off my rich dress
ghtd aomining a calico wrapper, I went down
again to inquire about Mr. Dudley, who I
found was being attended by the physicians,
wh.pronounced his arm broken in two
plcs n he was now lying in the west
parlor, looking strangely pale and ill; yet
he smiled faintly and endeavored to make
light of his injuries when I inquired and ex
pressed my regret at his misfortune.
For the next few days little else was at.
is.4nded to except the wants of the three in
valids at the Leiberg mansion. I devoted
~myself alnost entirely to Miss Armund,
,who seemed ilf at ease whenever I left her
sight. Her injuries were of a very serious
*character, and the doctor gave little hope of
her, recovery, even from the first, and at the
end of three days he expressed his very
'gave doubts as to her surviving twenty.
four hours longer, and hinted that if she
hid any business affairs to settle she had
better attend to them at once. The doctor
was then closeted with her for some time,
atthe end of which he came out looking ex
~tremely grave and concerned. He motioned
.meto his side. "Miss Armund," ho said,
"'is much worse, but she seems in more an
guish of mind than body. She desires me
to telegraph at once for Mrs. Clayton, who,
she says, is a friend of hers; and she also
desires to see Oliver Dudley at once. I
,wll," he continued, "go at once to the tele
graph office and send the dispatch. Will
you, Miss Lynn, be so kind as to deliver her
mngetoMi'. Dudley?" -
"I will at once," I answered, and the doe.
ter hurriedaway. Then all at once it flashed
upon me that now most libnly was to
be revealed the mystery that surrounded
me, for that Mrs Clayton and Miss Armund
possessed a secret that was of more or less
valne to me I never doubted. But would
the dying woman reveal it? or would she
die an~d the precious secret be buried with
her? I felt my brain whirl at the thought.
Surely fate would never be so crucl. Miss
Arnund had seemed to find my presence
agreeable in the last few days. though her
injuries had prevented her from conversing.
Iclung to the hope that she was my friend,
after all, and this helped to calm, somewhat,
my excied feelings. I delivered her mes
sage to Mr. Dudley with tolerable com
posure, and then rushed off to my own
room to wait in strange, shivering suspense
the arrival of Lena Clayton. An hour
passed, two, three and then there was a
summons from Miss Armund's room. I was
sent for. I went in and was struck at once
by the change in her a few hours had
wrought; her faee was gray and drawn, her
eyes sunken, yet glittering with a deadly
brightness. Evidently this world and its
tronble were nearly over with her.
Iwent in softly. Mrs. Kent, Mrs. Lel
berg and Oliver Dudley were in the room,'
but they withdrew at once, leaving us alone
together. A strange, solemgush brooded
over all at first; the bright fire crackled
and blazed on the hearth, sending a warm
glow over the richly-furnished room; the
rich amask curtains, drawn aside, re
ealed the snowy world outside, whcre the
keen winter winds whistled shrilly. A few
ch+aring snow-birds flew wildly about.
and now and then a passer-by walked
swiftly past. All within was warmth and
uxury; outside cold and bitter wind; bx't
to the pallid face on the pillow sncw and
sun were alike unheeded. She had passed
the line where earthly elements cease to vex
took one of the cold hands in mine. She
smiled up in my face.
"You are kind to me, Dorcas, little
Dorcas that I wronged so fearfully," she
murmured, dreamily. "Yet he was cruel."
she cried, suddenly. "He kuew how madly,
how fiercely I loved him; yet he did not
heed me. I was poor-so poor. and be was
rich; ah, me! how rich and handsome was
Phillip Caledon, with that dark bonnie
beauty that wins women's hearts so
She paused. I listened breathlessly. Of
whom was she speaking? My heart beat
hard and fast with expectation, but she was
silent. She seemed to have been talking
more to herself than to me. But presently
she started up suddenly.
-I helped to save her; surely that will be
part atonement for my crime, yet Lena
was as much to blame as I, and I hate her!
"PHILLIP, I P.IGHTED THE WRONG."
I bate her, with her false. cruel face and
sneering ways. and I will not, I can not, I
shall not die with so great a wrong un
righted. It is righted, Phillip! I did it for
revenge upon you. but I have righted it;
surely you will forgive''
Her voice had risen to a shriek almost as
she continued: but at the last she fell back
upon her pillow quite white and stilt. I
was terribly frightened by her words, so
strange and wild, and by her ghostly ap
pearance; but I applied restoratives to her,
and. finally, she breathed again, but faint
-ly, and her eyes did not unclose.
" Phillip," she murmnured, softly, while a
smile of ineffable peace settled over her
"Phillip, I righted *the wrong. I am so
glad now-it was for love I did it." I
the faint voice traikd away into silence,
and again she was still and white. In vain
I tried to arouse her. I opened the window
finally, and the keen air filled the room;
the light wind lifted a tress of her gray
hair and tossed it over the still face. But
no wind or warmth could ever stir the still,
shrunken figure to life again. Miss Ar
mund was dead, I found. When unable to
revive her again, I summoned ^f
I stood for some time gazing down on the
still form, so quiet and peaceful looking in
death. The hard lines were softened down
now, and death had kindly smoothed out all
the many wrinkles, and her toil-hardened
hands were folded calmly as a childs on her
I doubted not but some great trouble had
wrecked this woman's life, some ;poignant
grief had broken her heart and embittered
her nature; but what that had been I could
not guess; something in connection with
Phillip Caledon, doubtless, for it was his
name that was last on her lips in lfe. But
what wrong could she have committed to
him or hisi He was dead, had died years
ago; his wife. also, was dead, and their lit
tle girl, the baby heiress of Caledon. Had
I not heard often enough the story of her
death fron the servants at the Heights?
Surely her thoughts bad been wandering,
for wrongs to the dead can hardly be right,
I went up to my room and sat down by the
fre, in a dreary, unhappy mood. Miss
Armund was dead. and she had died with
out revealing the secret of my birth, which
[ felt sure she possessed. She had only bab
bled meaninglessly of people who were
nothing to me. What mattered it ? I said
her talk of Philip Caledon; he was naught to
I was awakened in the afternoon from a
light sleep, into which I had fallen, by some
one announcing that Miss Clayton and her
daughter had arrived. Mrs. Kent came up
o my room in some excitement.
"You had better go down, Dorcas, and
greet them." she said; "Mrs. Lieberg ei
dontly thinks you are acquainted wich them,
and has sent up word for you to meet the-m."
I hardly knew what to do. I dreaded to
go down and encounter their haughty, in
sulting manners which I felt sure they
would exhibit, and I dare not stay away lest
i~t look suspicious.
Accordingly, urged by Mrs. Kent. I de
scended to the parlor, where I found assenm
bled the Leibergs, Oliver Dudley, Mrs.
Clayton and her daughter, beside the phiysi
cian and one or two others.
It is not to be wondered at that I felt
some trepidation on entering. But. reso
utely swallowing my fears. I crossed to
where Mrs. Clayton was standing with her
daughter, proud, beautiful Irma Barrett at
her side. I bowed and extended my hand
to them in token of friendly greeting. But
what was my amazement and chagrin when
they only returned my salutation with a
aughty, inquiring stare, as if we were the
most distant strangers. I felt ready to sink
with shame and mortification, for I saw all
eyes were fixed upon me. and my first im
pulse was to rush from the room and hide
myself, drown myself, any thing only that I
might be spared the insults this family had
heaped upon me. But the next moment my
proud r.pirit asserted itself. I would not be
quelled or beaten without a struggle. I
stepped back cooly.
O "You may or you may not recognize me,
Mr. Clayton." I said, "but we are not
strangers, you and I, however murh you
may wish to impress these people to that
Mrs. Clayton colored and bit her lip. Irma
endeavored to annihilate me with a glance,
but I did not falter. Just at this critical
moment, when all were viewing me with
amaement, Mr. Dudley stepped forward,
smiling and bowed in that courteous way of
his, saying lightly, as if it were the most
natural mistake in the world, though I un
derstood it all:
" Is it possible, Mrs. Clayton, that you
have forgotten our mutual friend, Miss
I felt rather than saw the meaning glance
he threw at her from his brown eyes. But
Mrs. Clayton understond at once, evidently,
fr she greeted me, in a. rather constrained
manner, however, and Irma followed her
mother's example. I accepted it. for~ I could
not do otherwise with those imtsrimg eyes
upon me; but my anger was rouw..d and moy
cheeks burned hotly wvhile my heart beat
fast and hard with a passion of rage and
Silently we visited the room where Miss
Armund was lying, slumbering so quietly.
Mrs. Clayton expresse d sincere grief at her
friends death, bat I saw that it was only
assumed for there w-as an undercurrent of
joy running through the whole of her af
fected grief, and I saw she gave the orders
for the necessary arrangements attending
the interrment of her friend with evident
Mrs. Clayton had changed somewhat in
the past ten years. She was still handsome.
but ther-e were dark li'es about the proud
mouth, and heavy rings, that told of sleep
less nights, under the large liquid eyes.
Irma. too, looked worn and haggard: but
no wcnder, I thought, when her twin broth
er is imprisoned on the awful charge of mur
The funeral of Miss Armund was over; 1
the still, withered form had been consigned
to mother-earth, and we were all again as
sembled in the dull, fire-lighted parlor 1
a+ Mr.. T Lbeges A strane hush fell:
rrer the room at first, as if al were waiting
o hear something of importance; but pres
mtly Mrs. Clayton arose and spoke some
what hurriedly and sharply:
"Mr. Dudley." she said. "you informed
ne that my presence and my daughters (in
licating Irma, with a nod toward her), was
accessary here to attend to some legal mat
:er pertaining to the will of Miss Armund.
What they are I am sure I can not imagine,
>r how they can interest us; I ant willing
o hear them, however, but please be as
1xolicit as ps ,ible, as I have important
ausiness to attend to yet to-day."
She sat down, and Mr. Rathbun, a little,
white-haired old gentleman, arose. He an
aounced himself as Miss Armund's legal
adviser, and also that he held in his posses
>ion her will and other documents of some
value he presumed.
Mrs. Clayton smiled. It was a smile of
triumph and disdain. What did the will of
the old, unloved woman amount to, anyway ?
"I have no wish to cause you unnecessa
ry delay, Mrs. Clayton," said the old gen
tleman, politely; "I will therefore proceed
at once to business."
He then began to read the will of Agnes
Armund, which bequeathed to an asylum
for indigent widows her entire fortune,
which consisted of ten thousand dollars,
which amount would be found deposited in
the B-- bank, and it also appointed Mr.
Rathbun and Oliver Dudley as executors.
The lawyer laid down the will when he
had finished reading it. Mrs, Clayton made
a movement to rise and leave, but he de
tained her with a motion of his hand.
Be patient, please, he said; "this other
paper I have here is probably the one in
which you are concerned."
He held up a sealed packet.
"This," he continued, "was given me by
Miss Armund about a year ago; of its con
tents I know nothing, but she requested me
to read it at tbe same time I should her
will; I will now do so,"
He tore open the packet, disclosing
several sheets of note paper closely written.
Mrs. Clayton turned pale, I saw her
gasp suddenly. as if choked; but the next
instant she regained her self-composure.
The lawyer began to read slowly-every
word being distinctly heard in the dead
stillness that reigned, even the clock
ticked less loudly than before it seemed.
"Years ago," the letteror statement ran,
there lived in A- a, family known as the
Caledons; they were a proud race, rich as
"OF ITS CONTENTs I K\ow NOTNGO."
;hty were proud also, but kind-hearted,
witIhal, and hospitable as one could wish.
But this race, though once numerous, was
fast dying out, so that at the time of my
story there was only onie family that bore
the old name. They had four daughters,
but only one son, young Phillip Caledon, the
pet of his sisters, the idol of his parents,
was the only one left to bear the fine old
name and inherit the grand estate. He was
a, kind and moral young ma'n, and sensible,
too, in spite of all the spoiling he had re
ceived. Yet, like all young men who are a
godda' suh ferh a ltl n
Vlndt lr ihtefi etog o
byaymas aysmn radny He
glancere podorothan in-heartaced
when threhog disovee thateyous, wasli
sr stllher wsolyand facy thatbor
But nly oe on, ong iwas Cateonsthde
petred thit sister theiilf hatist alents
was vitheoiomlf to ba the tedrpsine Prett
enoa Endirige th hra baeest.H ad
indnd smoles youn akne a elinglof
eived hitetretl nkongta mny whosom.
hine fir ht whthe ai sid, bthouhte
thr wan mans truth' or a andy. reorea
wahes ti-cofites, soeaind anow sot lesat
that moitan wone far efien luhen ati
motlate, and mr taeon hear cpan
wietheis Edicoere haot yong apliur
yous silart accidendl fealcoerboadean
Bust time wrond hand it wasot last fodte
tmlaed a Maserillipad who lstringing
icmto the tecender asn. rottye
saelyoto Eladg. whit hrvd blaes aond
winning smile, inten awakne a feoliay had
ovehtet unatndon boar tht mycht.h
thesenwa handsme trut hrnotinets repenra
th at in ovelongbwasseeidestwonder
monthyatrav .eatshli Caledonpy
younlady forchdeotfedl ovmebor and
must hae downe ad ino esthn orthe
onth they erremared . a andruhe
opael tand. etokhe it oe tos liyoin
teacern cvontsent, where he hiay, hadr
othiengttedd nbr the tsyandt he
wasenot happyoeas htwobies re gadenl
etrly painted oes, buthe. swodr
ful ttress e Aofat o ii Caledon, n hmrmrvr
fondy hoe fout he tevoted imser toner
monhli Caheydce. Tharrid.she was anmr
orhe nd o he topls her anyetolid-i
hirngfrends nty seatn he hellow every
to higiep aedn. codnl the rihswtladted
were bels hap atbrdcestey sidingo
nirly devedo ach Dotrca.ebywe
Bthwfrdiwih enora Eldridge
Tre oalsed antd whmforvhie fr
kihd poornwido's uher jilved in of
hiliteae h Caledon ha sesta any wo
tifiloed and worsiped ehvei Caldobt but
ciher idnor Eldridg tor reasrmn ad-b
mierin ridtws the weofaglfe wimew teve
foure ahll uaedat Acoringlyet.Ahewe
dind, bels al hardver dreased ofibestowing
Shiei Casedonelyd hirlin weho wuld
haey given agaif for dim Bsoet gad
"But ihiges rud s1sieoe
Taall seemed neysettledo awhil peor
evereontt shaket foer Ages Arhende
pased po, or dos augher whoelias in litl
.iuteer cottaeit n thea assedest, andywho
thdoere waond wor.pe Barrett abeautiful
their di.ater's herte said an if timth
sove true, ihe hadrnee of something she
:-ofor a i cae es d the inlydml, unfeelping
broman was a heevrreaed m stloing
subthre romosi, loyhrlng who wode i
ive agbuen yher efrharp soplaining
Bout ithei Aoverty ord has sibore,
strugeemedgstrangelyrrisete, and ople o
fford wonyt shakres tei heaiful, t
nhappy yunwifBt, ayrpsseddenay, just
:hersbnt Mr. Barrett avn bhistifug
ifein boor ancircumsthnes, withrer too
vtheir eath heat the sadand f ruor
poke. true, e ad nebab ofl somehin old
it fotle im becsid the clde, ufeelinr
nvoeMr.dn whohdmaridhsimpaly fra
uithrfge from gh ossip, his whoe bumad-i
oe anterend by herindr comliningch
But thir povsty; horor and wans onlf
hfathrugn yhe gbarie, and coternt
-r prwas und eginningn to brtrae forh
>aboldbe onbaierd. Si ulteousdlyf
she returned it was gone. In vain they
searched; in vain offered immense rewards
for even the faintest clue; none could be
gained. It remained a mystery, as if the
ground had suddenly opened and swallowed
her up, so suddenly did the baby heiress of
Caledon disappear from her home and the
loving hearts that cherished her. Mr.
Caledon was never the same man again;
he grew silent and sometimes harsh. Even
the presence of his father and mother
failed to cheer and comfort him, as of yore,
though they strove to the utmost to change
his grief for his wife and child and set his
mind in different channels.
"It was thus that Lena Barrett found him
on her return from her parents, with whom
she had been living, and she at once set
about devising means for winning the
master of Caledon for a second husband.
In this she succeeded, for Mr. Caledon,
urged by his parents, who feared their
son's reason would become impaired by his
grief, finally married the beautiful Widow
Barrett, and installed her as the future
mistress of Caledon.
"Now, indeed, was Lenora Caledon tri
umphant; the position she coveted was hers ;
she was supremely happy for a season. But
there is a crease in every roseleaf, 'tis said,
and Mrs. Caledon found hers to be no ex
ception to the general rule, for she had
been married but a short time when who
should appear but Agnes Armund, who
simply asked to see Mrs. Caledon, and in
the interview that followed gave evidence
of atvery correct knowledge of the where
tabouts of Dorcas Caledon, for whom the sor
rowful father was then mourning his life
away, praying ever for only one glimpse of
baby Dorcas before he died.
"It would have been naturally supposed
that Mrs. Caledon would have caught eager
ly at this clue of restoring to her husband
what would have been such a stimulant to
his failing state, the restoration of his be
loved child. But far from it, indeed, were
her intentions, she had no idea of being see
pnd to little )orcas in the alTections and
generosity of the master of Caledon; be
sides her own children were just gaining
favor with their sterather, and there was
no doubt if he died without leaving an heir,
they would inherit the Caledon property.
To the fulfillment of this wish Mrs. Caledon
bent all the energies of her strong, passion
"By skillfulbribes she secured the promise
of half-crazed Agnes Armand to keep the
knowledge she possessed a secret. She
also worked upon the fears of the poor
creature, aeclaring if she were to reveal
the whereabouts of the babe or even re
store it to its father, she would certainly be
imprisoned for abduction, and no doubt
a long term of penal servitude would be
her reward. She took care, also, to enlarge
upon the debt of revenge that Agnes owed
Philip Caledon for the slighting of the
great love she bore him.
"All these combined sufficed to bewilder
and confuse the already tortured mind, and
so with evil tenacity she hugged the pre
cious secret to her bosom, and lived on, ever
unhappy and wretched, yet bitter and un
"But in a few years, worn by grief and
vain searching for his lost child, Mr. Cale
don sank into his grave, and Caledon
Heights was without a master, and the old
name extinct, except for old Mr. Caledon,
whose heart was broken at his son's death,
and for whom he had never ceased to mourn.
"Mrs. Caledon, though she mourned her
husband, it seems was not inconsolable, as
she married again shortly after his death.
Irma and Irving Barrett., on opening the will
of Phillip Caledon, were found to be his
sole heirs with one clause only in the will
that was should the lost heir of his estate,
his beloved daughter, Dorcas Caledon,
ever be discovered, then the estate should
be hers with the exception of a legacy to
both Irma and her brother.
"It was after the death of Phillip Caledon
that a glimpse of the great wrong she had
committed to this man began to dawn upon
the mind of Agnes Armund. Buteventhen
the desire for revenge was too strong to al
low her to make reparation. She loved to
think of the heiress of Caledon as a depend
ent among strangers, to gloat over the
thought that when she should have grown
she should go out into the hard world and
be a poor, oppressed, hard-worked drudge
for the same pitiless world that had treated
her (Agnes) so cruelly.
"So the years flew on. Dorcas Caledon
was still an inmate of an orphans home and
Caledon Heights still was the property of
the Barretts. It was when Dorcas Caledon
was ten years old that Agnes Armund con
ceived the idea of bringing her to her right
ful home and there have her educated and
reared as were the Barrett children. Per
haps it was a desire to annoy the mistress
of Caledon, whom she hated, or perhaps a
feeling of remorse prompted this act. How
beit it was doie, and Dorcas Caledon be
came an inmate of her rightful home. How
she was treated by the inmates of Caledon
I can not justly say, but in a not too indul
gent manner, I should infer, from the fact
that at the age of fifteen the girl raa y
and could not be traced or again heard of,
though strenuous efforts were made to dis
cover her whereabouts both by A gnes Ar
mund and Oliver Dudley, a young me' who
had always felt a strong interest in the ilt
tie waif who was maintained at the Heights
in so strange a manner. He had just re
turned from abroad, and determined, as he
bad promised the child, to see after her wel
fare; but shie, evidently tired of her dull,
unhappy life, had fled just at the moment
when her presence was most desired, and
search as they might no clew could be ob
tained of her."
"Here the lawyer paused, and Mr. Dudley
handed him a folded paper. He opened it
and again read on:.
"One, two years passed, and Agnes
Armund and Oliver Dudley were beginning
to despair of over finding the girl, concluding
she must have died unheard of, when, what
was Agnes' surprise and delight, one day,
while driving in the park, to suddenly meet
the long looked-for one, and not poor,
wretched or haggard, as her feverish fancy
had painted her, but blooming~beautiful and
happy, and richly dressed and in company
with ladies of unmistakable wealth and high
Little more is there to tell; you are all
familiar wit~h the burning of the opera
house. Agnes Armund and Oliver Dudley
were present and had just discovered the
person they sought when the alarm of fire
was given. By a mere accident they suc
ceeded in saving her life and their own.
TIh is the end. I Agnes Armund, on my
dying bed, have freely confessed the crime
I committed seventeen years ago, and for
which I have suffered a living death ever
since. But what reparation is in my power
I make. The rightful heiress of Caledon is,
or should be, present in the person of
Dorcas Lynn, adopted daughter of Mrs.
Kent. Her rightful name is Dorcas Caledon,
and she is the only living descendant of
Having made this reparation I rest con
tent, trusting an all-merciful Providence
will not judge me too harshly, for the crime
committed in a moment of frenzy, and con
ealed afterward by fear, revenge and av
The lawyer paused, laid down the paper
and sat down. A deathly stillness remained
for several moments over all. Surprise,
wonder, horror held every one speechless,
for a time. But the silence was broken by
Mrs. Clayton, a strange wild cry came from
her lips; she rose, tottered a moment and
then fell forwvard on her face. All rushed
to her assistance. Irma lifted her mother's
head, her owu face white as the dead, her
lips drawn, but outwardly she was calm.
Restoratives were applied, but it was long
before Mrs. Clayton regained conscious
ness, and then she was not herself, but
raved wildly of false statements, of plots to
rob her children of their inheritance, of
Philip Caledon, Agnes Armund and others,
mixing up names and people in strange con
fusion. Mrs. Leiberg insisted on her being
put to bed and a physician sent for, which
was at last done, though Irma at first de
clared her mother miust leave with her, as
it was very imipoatant they should be at R
that night; but seeing how violent her
but prepared herself for leaving after so
liciting Mrs. Lieberg's attentions to her
She would not allow the carriage to be
brought, but started on foot for the railway
station, though it was snowing and the
wmind blew fiercely. Mr. Leiberg, afraid to
trust her alone, accompanied her in spite of
her protestations. and saw her safely on
board the train and then returned to con
gratulate me, to wonder and talk and won
der again over the strange events and
startling revelations of the last few days.
[To BE CONTINUED]
SOUTH CAROLINA'S ATTRACTIONS.
lnquiries as to the Coy 3aiden's Resources
Coming from all Parts of tha Union.
Inquiries continue to come to the De
partment of Agriculture regarding the re
sources of the State. The gentleman from
Ohio who, some weeks ago, inquired about
grazing lands writes that he will visit South
Carolina in the course of a few months and
examine some of the numerous farms that
have been offered him. iHe has made a
visit to Tennessee, but returned home
somewhat disappointed with the result of
his investigations there. He evidently ex
pects to find better grazing lands in South
Carolina, and refers particularly to the
coast region of the State.
The gentleman who inquired about the
growth of rushes, with a view of estab
lishing a $'50,000 factory to manufacture
them into summer matting, acknowledges
the receipt of information sent him: and
has opened correspondence with parties
who can furnish the rushes in abundance.
A gentleman in New York city writes
for a copy of the Department's special re
port on the State's exhibit at New Orleans.
The report, he says, contains valuable in
formation that he desires to use in his
studies on Datural history.
A party in Philadelphia desires informa
tion about the mineral, timber and agricul
tural resources of the State.-Clumbia
3.1R. BL.AINE IN NEW YORK.
It is interesting to observe the comments
of the leading New York papers upon 3Ir.
James G. Blaine's recent letter purporting
to be a declination to be the Republican
candidate for President.
The Times remarks that "if when the
Chicago convention adjourns Mr. Blaine
shall discover that he is its nominee, noth
ing will be easier than for him to write
another letter to Mr. Jones, or to 3r.
Jones's successor, explaining that when he
was in Florence he ready did not under
stand the weight and potency and irresisti
ble cl.aracter of the popular demand for
James G. Blaine."
The Wo rld expresses itself after this
fashion: "This letter has the car of sinceri
ty. It is plain that Mr. Blaine has m -d
up his mind that he cannot be again nomi
nated for President, and that if nominated
he cannot be elected. This is the interpre
tation that will be placed upon the docu
ment. His friends, who have doubted the
policy of bringing him into the contest
again, will gladly accept their release.
They will seek other afllliations, and be
fore twenty-four hours there will be a
general reorganization in the Republican
The Tribune professes to be sorry, and
to make known this feeling, says: "We re
gret the decision prcfoundly, since we have
believed that he would command more
votes in the doubtful States than any other
Republican yet proposed. But various
candidates, all excellent men and deserving
well of the Republican party, are actively
in the field, and the next few weeks may
be expected to present some unusually live
ly politics. May the best man win!"
The hkrald, which has always aspired
to be at once independent and sagacious in
its judgments of public men, their actions,
and the effect of these upon the course of
public affairs, approves 3Ir. Blaine's step
as a wise one, giving the following reasons:
"We accept the action of 3Mr. Blhine as
conclusive, and looked at from a Republi
can point of view, it must be regarded as
wise, and we might even say magnanimous.
The singular personal attractions of MIr.
Blaine: the alertness and audacity of his
intellect: hisskill in discovering the man
ageable points of politics: his innate knowl
edge of the workings of the goyernmnent
since the war; the tranquility of his genius;
thme fact that as a leader he was without en
mities, friendships, gratitude or fear; his
absolute command of his party, looking
upon rivals and aspirants only as so many
chess men in the great game of which he
was master; and added to these the elo
(quence of IHenry Clay and the keen, per
sistent business sense of Thurlow Weed
all combined to make MIr. Blaime, so long
as he remained in Republican leadership,
like MIr. 3IcGregor in the novel. Wherever
he sat was the head of the table."
The Philadelphia Press affects to believe
that M1r. Blaine's formal withdrawal is
fully in keeping with what has long been
known to be his preference in the matter.
Here are its reasons: "No one familiar with
the feeling which he has repeatedly and un
reservedly expressed to his friends will be
surprisedl at this utterance. It is only the
public expression of what he has privately
declared for many months, and it is based,
not upon political, but upon personal con
siderations. His ownu determination being
clear, he has felt that it is was due to the
party that it should be advised of the fact
in ample timec to govern itself accordingly.
Hatd 3Mr. Blaine remained in the field his
nomination would have been certain."
The Blair Bill Passes the Senate.
The Blair Educational bill passed thme
United States Senate Wednsdaty by a vote of
30 yeas to 27 nays. Senator Hlamupton voted
for the hill and Senator Butler against it.
The hill appropriates annually for eight
years the following sums to be "expended
to secure the benefit of common school ed
ucation to all children of school age, living
in the United States:"
First year. $7,000,000: second year $10,
000,000; third year. $15,000,000; 4th year,
$1:3,000,000; fifth year, $11,000,000: sixth
year. $9,000,000; seventh year, $7,000,000;
eighth year, $5,000,000. The money is to
be divided among the several States and
Territories andl the Diatrict of Columbia in
proportion to illiteracy-the computation
to be made according to the census of 1880,
anid (afterwar, s) 1800. There are to be
separate schools for white and colored chil
dren. No State or Territory is to receive
the money under the Act until its Governor
shall have filed with the secretary of the
interior a statement showing the common
school system in force in the State, the
amount of money expended during the pre
ceding school year for the sup~port of com
nmon schools; the number of white and col
ored children betteen the ages of 10 and
2!: the numbier of schools in operation,
average attendance of scholars, &c. No
amount is to be paid to any State or Terri
tory in any year greater than the amount
expended out of its own revenues in the
preceding year for the maintenance of com
mon schools. No part of the fund is to be
used for the erection or rent of school
buildings, but an additional fund of $2,
000,000 is to be allotted in the tirst year for
shool houses, either for construction or
renting: in sparsely populated districts not
more than $150 for each building.
The Railroad Commission have decided
against the Georgia "Jim Crow" car
They hold that acconmmodations must be
the same for all who pay the same fare
though separate cars nmay be provided for
A bill has bee .introduced in the MIissis
ippi Senate and referred to oblige railroads
o furnish equally convenient and com
fortable accommodations for passengers,
hite and black, the samne, however, to be
eparate, and the conductor to be author
zed to designate to each passenger where
e shall ride
"FIGHTING DIUK ANDERSON."
An Appeal from the Committee Charged with
Erecting (f Monument to Perpetuate His
(From the News and Courier.)
The following circular letter has been
prepared by the committee appointed to
raise funds for the erection of a monument
to the memory of Lieut. Gen. Richard H1.
Anderson, of South Carolina:
At a meeting of the Survivors' Associa
tion of Charleston district, held in Novem
ber last, the following resolution was unan
imously adopted: "Resolved, That a com
mittee of five be appointed by the Chair,
in response to thesuggestion of Capt. Sims,
of the Beaufort Artillery, which committee
shall take such steps as shall seem expedient
to raise funds for the erection of a suitable
monument to the memory of Lieut. Gen.
Richard H. Anderson, of South Carolina,
and that this committee shall invite the co
operation of the several associations of sur
vivors, and of individuals, in this State and
in other States."
Under this resolution the following com
mittee was appointed: Gen. B. H. Rut
ledge, chairman: Col. R. M. Sims, Major
E. N. Thurston, Capt. E. R, White, Capt.
F. W. Dawson.
Gen. Anderson was buried at Beaufort,
South Carolina, where he died, and his
grave is marked by a plain head-board.
There is no other visible memorial of him
who rendered so heroic service to his State
and the Southern Confederacy, and who
deservedly held an exalted position in the
regard and confidence of thetroops he com
manded and of his illustrious commander,
Gen. R. E. Lee.
Gen. Anderson first commanded a bri
gade of South Carolinians. In his division
in the Army of Northern 'Virginia, were
troops from Georgia, Virginia, Florida,
Mississippi and Alabama. At different
times, he commanded troops from every
Southern States. Everywhere, and on all
occasions, he proved the fitness of the name
by which he was best known, that of
"Fighting Dick Anderson."
The committee feel that it would be un
neccessary, and perhaps unbecoming, to
enlarge upon the reasons why the last rest
ing place of Gen. Anderson should be
marked by a monumental shaft which, in
its length and simplicity, shall fitly symbol
ize the character of the dead soldier, and,
at the same time, shall bear witness to the
loving remembrance of his comrades in
arms. It is proper to say, however, that
there is no desire to incur any considerable
expense, or to go beyond the bonds of what
is proper as a mark of the affection of his
comrades and of his own undisputed worth.
It is desirable that the monument shall
be erected without delay, and it is urged,
therefore, that subscriptions to the monu
ment fund be forwarded at once to Capt. F.
W. Dawson, Treasurer, Charleston, S. C
It is proposed to close the list at the end of
Newspapers which approve of the object
for which the committee was appointed are
requested to give this circular such pub
licity as they deem appropriate.
R. M. Sens, E. N. Tr-itaroN,
E. R. WHITE, F. W. DAwSoN,
B. H. R-rrLEDGE, Chairman.
The press of the Southern States are in
vited to direct the attention of their read
ers to the circular of the Anderson Memo
rial Committee, and the different organiza
tions of Ex-Confederates are earnestly re
quested to giye the circular their early and
The bard was asked to compose a little
poem upon his childhood, and this is what
he produced: "How dear to my heart is
the school I attended, and how I remember,
so distant and dim, that red-headed Bill and
the pin that I bended, and carefully put on
the bench under him. And how I recall
the surprise of the master, when Bill gave
a'yell and sprang up from the pin, so high
that his bullet head smashed up the plaster
above, and the scholars all set up a din.
That activ'e boy Billy, that high-leaping
Billy, that loud-shouting Billy who sat on a
For the blood, use B. B. B.
For scrofula, use B. B. B.
For catarrh. use B. B. B.
For rheumatism, use B. B. B.
For kidney troubles, use B. B. B.
For skin diseases, use B. B. B.
For eruptions, use B. B. B.
For all blood poisons, use B. B. B.
Ask your neighbor who has used B.
B. B. of its mer'ts. Get our book free
filled with certificates of wonderful cures.
DlIAL ENGWINE WORKS.
A COMPANY HAS BEEN FORMED
that are now op)erating these works,
manufacturing the Celebrated TOZER2
PATENT AGRICULTURAL AND
STATIONARY ENGINES, noted for
their great durability, simplicity and
economy in fuel.
Excellent workmanship and design.
Return Tubulor Boilers a specialty.
Also Saw Mill Shafting and boxes.
Most convenient shop in the State for
having your repairs done.
All work guaranteed. Foundry work
in Iron and Brass.
Write us for estimates.
W. P. LESTER,
THORN WELL McMASTER,
CHARLOTTE FEMALE INSTIf[UTE.
The current session of this Institute
closes January 21st, 1888, when the
Spring Session begins, which ends June
The present session is one of the most
prosperous in 2ie history of the Insti
tute. There is room for only a few more
boarding pupils. The health of the
school, the accommodations of its board
ing department, and the efficiency of its
corps of teachers are unsurpassed any
where in the South. The first of January
is a very convenient time for entering.
Pupils are charged only from date of
Rev. Wit. R. ATKINSON,
Charlotte, N. C.
FOR INFANTS AND
TEETHING CHIL DREN.
An instant relief for colic of infants.
Cures Dysentery, Diarrhoea, Cholera
[nfantum or any diseases of the stomach
and bowels. Makes the critical neriod
of Teething safe and easy. Is a safe and
pleasant tonic. For sale by all druggists,
a for wholesale by HowARD, Wrn~r
& Co., Augusta, Ga,
SHOW CASES. WALL CASES.
DESKS, OFFICE FURNITURE AND FIXTURES.
Invalids' Hotel and Surgical Institut
btair of Eighteen Experienced and Skilke
ful Physicians and Surgeons.
ALL CHRONIC DISEASES A SPECIALTY.
Patients treated here or at their homes. Many
treated at home, through correspondence, as
successfully as if here in person. Come and
see us, or send ten cents in stamps for otu:
" Invalids' Guide-Book," which gives all partie.
ulars. Address: WORLD'S DIsPENSARY MEDI
CAL AssoCIATION, 663 Main St., Buffalo, N.Y,
For worn-out," "run-down," debilitated
school teachers, milliners, seamstresses, house
kee ers. and overworked waonon gen-rail.
Dr Piec' cand ori Pscription is th e
of all restorative tonics. it is not a "Cure-all."
but admirably fultills a singleness of purpose,
being a most potent Specific for all those
Chronic Weaknesses and Diseases peculiar to
women. The treatment of many thousands
of such cases, at the Invalids Hotel and Surg.
ical Institute has afforded a large experience
in adapting remedies for their cure, and
Dr. Pierce's Favorite Prescription
is the result of this vast experience. For
internal congestion, inflammation
and ulceration, it is a Specific. It
is a powerful general, as well as uterine, tonic
and nervine, and imparts vigor and strength
to the whole system. It cures weakness of
stomach, indigestion, bloating, weak back.
nervous prostration, exhaugion. debility and
sleeplkssness, in either sex. Favorite Prescrlp
tion is sold by druggists under our posUive
guarantee. See wrapper around bottle.
OR six BOTTLES
PRICE $1.00, FOR $5.OO.
Send 10 cents in stamps for Dr. Pierce's large
Treatise on Diseases of Women (100 pages,
paper-covered). Address, WORLD'S DIsPE.
SARY MEDICAL ASSOCIATION, 663 Main Street,
9is *.e as art LIVER
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SICK W!ADACHE, .
and BiliousAttaCl s,
promptly cured by Dr. -
Purgative Pellets. :3
tents a vial, by Druggists.
ON THE FIRST OF OCTOBER, the
undersigned opened a
FIRST CLASS BOARDING HOUSE
in Charleston, for the accommodation of
both Transient and Permanent Boarders.
The Building, located on the northeast
corner of Wentworth and Glebe streets,
is conveniently near the business portion
of King street, yet free from the noise
of the thoroughfares. It is within easy
reach from the Academy of Music and
from Churches of all the different de
The house has been thoroughly ie
paired, and fitted up in good style with
new furniture and fixtures.
For further information address
Mus. E. E. HASELL,
or Miss S. S. EDWARDS,
Ltf Charleston, S. C.
WE DO WEAR
THE Wi. Y. STANDARD
$3.00 CUSTO PANTS
:os cse bsataecau he ty, .h W onl he
1% EXT,as to ourtow
? ~ en eormous quni
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* goods ony to o r,
eont blankaean f ou well
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"O'ercoatau Iona tion this psusta6inch
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OURE GUAE ANT t nJere"||e
sryehe wthus or wealwaynhavo andalways wi
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eond for samnple and Cal atou
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IS A LINIM'NT PERFECTLY
R ARMLESS.AND S' CW.D BE USED A
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SEND FOR BOOK TO MOTHERS a
-s ATLANTA.GA. a
The justly celebrated SOUTHERN
VEGETABLE PILL having been used
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IVER, have, by their
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ou will join the cry for "GILDER'S
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end 25 cents in stamps to
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