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The watchman and southron. (Sumter, S.C.) 1881-1930, June 16, 1885, Image 1

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E stjmter watchman, Established Aprii, isso. "Be Just and Fear not?Let all the Ends thou Aims't at, be thy Country's, thy God's and Truth's." the tk?e.so?t?ron, Established jane, 1866.
^ Consolidated Ang. 2, 1881.1 SUMTER, S. C, TUESDAY, JUNE 16, 1885._New Series?Tol. IT. No. 46. -
* ' Published 70 7 Tuesday,
?BY THE?
^?Tatchman and Sovthron Publishing
Company,
S?MTER, S. C.
tbbms:
-Two Dollars per annum?in advance.
One Square, first insertion.?.?............$l 00
Every subsequent insertion.. 50
? ^Contracts fox three-months, or longer will
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All co raanications^whicb snbserTe private
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Marriage notices 3ad notices of deaths pub
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Editor of "Lutheran Observer,17
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? FAMILY AFFATI
BY HUGH CONWAY,
_
Aulkor of "Called Backhand "Dark Days."
CHAPTER VUL
UBS. E TAXES A HOLIDAY.
Mrs. Miller, the respectable, middle-aged
widow who had, in spite of her lack of
properly authenticated service-testimonials,
been installed in the place vacated by the
nurse girl whose amorous tendencies sent such
a thrill through Hazlewood House, continued
to give the greatest satisfaction. She was a
living proof that a broom which swept clean
when new, may continue to do so after the
newness has departed. Moreover, Mrs.
Miller was a broom which, raised very little
dust as it swept.
' She was a pale-faced woman with strongly
marked features. The nose was aquiline, the
cheeks thin, almost hollow; the mouth and
chin told of a certain force of character, the
eyes were dark, and at times shone with pe
culiar brightness. In spite of the calm,
methodical way in which she went about the
place in discharge of her duties, one skilled in
the study of the face would have said that
this weman possessed a highly nervous tem
perament?that her qmet was but the result
of years of self-control, that had she lacked
that strong month and chin, Mrs. Miller's
true nature would have shown itself at every
hour of the day.
She was thin, and in the dark gowns which
she invariably wore, looked almost ascetic
Tomen she presented few attractions. The
under gardener who had been reprimanded,
but not dismissed, found the change of nurses
a sorry one for him. Had he wished to do so, I
doubt if the most forward man servant would
.have dared to put his arm round Mrs. Miller's
sombre waist.
But her masters liked her, Miss Clausen
liked her, the boy liked her, and, above all,
Whittaker liked her. This last was an im*
portant matter, as in the servant's hall Whit
taker, by virtue of long service and irre
proachable character, reigned supreme:
The new nurse was in many ways a ser
vant after his own heart. She treated him
with the respect which was his due, and
neither by word nor action ridiculed his
roasters?the crime common to nearly all the
retainers of Hazlewood House. The only
fault which Whittaker could find with Mrs.
Miller was on account of her religious senti
ments;
For Whittaker was an intelligent man,
who in his hours of leisure improved his
mind. For theology he read good old-fash
ioned, one-sided works which proved beyond
doubt that through the porch of the parish
church lay the only road to Heaven. Every
one knows that it is delightful to give a
new-comer the benefit of one's own religious
tenets?to point out where one is right and
the other wrong. It was but natural that in
akindly, paternal way Whittaker should take
an early opportunity of ascertaining Mrs.
Miller's orthodoxy.
He did this in the butler's pantry, whither
she had. one. day come on some errand. It
was on a Monday, and Whittaker began by
commenting on Mr. Morale's sermon of the
preceding night. He little guessed what a
storm his words would raise?how by sheer
accident he had stumbled on a way of turn
ing this calm-looking woman into a wild en
thusiast. But he hadin fact struck the fire
?rom the flint.
She forgot all about her errand, and entered
into religious discussion in a way that took
the male disputant's breath from him. She
talked about selection and predestination?
the utter mefficacyof works or faith to save?
she pounded him with terrible texts which
cut off the hope of mercy from all save the
elect, until poor old Whittaker fairly gasped.
His one-sided studies furnished no weapons
with which to meet her vehement attack. All
he could do was to shako his head pityingly
and sigh for the state of her mind. ?n this
he was little different from many reputed
teachers of men.
She pounded hrm with terrible texts until
- Whittaker fairly gasped.
Suddenly, as if remembering where she
was, Mrs. Miller grew calm, but evidently
by a great effort of self-control. She even
apologized for her excitement, which she
hoped Mr. Whittaker would forget. Then
she left him.
In his responsible position his first thou ?
was that his masters ought to be inf ormeu ?
the heterodox views held by the nurse. But
this seemed scarcely fair to the woman, who,
in spite of all, went to church as regularly as
the other servants. So he did not mention
the matter to the Talberts, but, overtaking
Mr. Mordle as the latter was one day walk
ing into the town, he, "with all respect, told
him what strange ideas Mrs. Miller held on
religious subjects. This may seem presump
tion on Whittaker's part-, but the truth is,
that the dream of his life was, that had not
fate made him a butler he might have been
a clergyman. And a very imposing one he
would doubtless have made.
"Ah said Mordle. ' 'Calvinism?-dreary
religion?most dismal and dreary of alL?
The curate was rather short with Whit
taker. He thought the old servant rather e
nuisance and somewhat of a prig.
"Will you see her and taik to her, sir?'
asked Whittaker, respectfully.
"No?Calvinists are mcurafefe But to
please you, Whittaker, III preach at her
some Sunday."
It may be presumed that Mrs, Miller did
notinSict her Calvinfem upon Beatrice, as
the latter seemed to find the new nurse per
fectly suited to her duties. It was clear that
Mrs. Miller had become strangely attached
to?er young mistress. Nothing seemed to
give her such pleasure as performing any
small personal service which Miss Clausen re
quired. When Beatrice passed her, the wo
man's dark eyes followed her with an ex
pression of almost dog-hko affection. On her
part Beatrice treated the nurse with a con
sideration not always shown by the most
amiable toward their servants. It was vul
garly said among the household that Mrs.
Miller, quiet as she was, had managed to get
the length of Miss Clauson'i foot.
Whether Mrs. Miller was unduly favored
or not, things at Hazlewood House ran on
smoothly. Perhaps it was the perfect order
in which tho gear worked that induced the
nurse to take a day's holiday.
It was the day after Mr. Mordle had made
and lost his venture. Horace and Herbert, ?
potter inj; about the gardens*, saw the br?jj?t
haired boy going out in charge of the parlor
maid. This was an infraction of rules w hich
oould not be overlooked. They demandai the
cause, and were told that Mrs. Miller had gone j
for a day's holiday.
Of course the brothers said no more; but, ?
upon seeing Beatrice, they mentioned the mat- j
ter to her. ""Yes," she said, "I told her she |
might go for the day."
The Talberts were too polite to blame Bea- 1
trice in words, but a slight elevation of four
eyebrows showed their owners' discontent.
Beatrice, in giving a servant a holiday, had
taken a liberty.
**Where has she gonef asked Herbert, who
liked to know that his servants were spending
their time properly.
"To London, I suppose," said Beatrice,
carelessly.
Now the way in which Mrs. Miller spent
her holiday was as follows:
She rose at an early hour and walked from
Hazlewood House to the cross roads. Here
she waited until the lumbering, old-fashioned
'bus came in sight She took a seat in it, and
was in due time deposited at the Blacktown
station At Blacktown she took the train to
Weymouth, which fashionable watering
place she reached about 11 o'clock.
It was, however, clear that she had not
come hero to enjoy a day at the seaside. In
stead of going at once to the gay esplanade,
she sought the shades of the general waiting
room?here she remained an hour.
She then embarked in another train; one
that ran on a single line of railway?ran
nearly the whole of its way with the sea on
one side anda mighty h?l of smooth, rounded
pebbles, known as the Chesil Beach, on the
other, whilst in front of it loomed tall,
serrated, precipitous cliffs, at the foot of
which was its destination.
Mrs. Miller paid no attention to the
latural scenery of the place. She stepped
hrara. the train and walked out of the little
station in a methodical; business-like way. It
was evident that the woman had not come so
far on a mere pleasure jaunt.
It was a burning day. The sun shot down
its rays fiercely on the treeless, shadeless,
barren island, or so-called island. Mrs. Mil
ler's black garments seemed scarcely suitable
to such weather?her frame certainly not
strong enough to toil up those cliffs of oolitic
limestone which frowned down upon her.
No wonder she turned to the cabstand. The
two or three cabs which it boasted were
rickety old machines, but the horses which
were between the shafts were strong ones.
Hordes need be strong to earn a living in this
land.
She drove a bargain after the manner of
her kind, then took her seat in one of the
dusty vehicles. She was driven through the
little gray town, which lies at the foot of and
stretches a long way up the hill, The horse
toiled np the steep street, on and on until the
occupant of the cab looked down on the
tops of the houses which she had just
passed. Then a turn, and a bit of level
ground, another turn and a steep hill; soon
and on in a zigzag course until the table land
which lies at the top of Portland island was
somehow reached, an event which must have
been grateful alike to the horse and the occu
pant of the cab, supposing the latter only
possessed of nerves of ordinary strength and
therefore apt to rebel against being drawn up
hills as steep as the side of a house.
Some time before tho cab reached the top
of the cliffs it had at intervals passed gangs
of men working by tho roadside. At a dis
tance these men looked little different from
ordinary navvies, but a closer inspection
showed that tho garments of most of them
consisted of a dark yellow jersey covered by
a sleeveless jacket of light fustian or some
such material. This jacket, moreover, was
stamped in various places with the govern
ment broad arrow. Every man wore gaiters
and a curiously-shaped cap, under which no
hair was visible. Occasionally one might be
seen who moved with a certain stiffness in his
rait, as if something which he would wil
lingly have dispensed with restrained the nat
ural elasticity of his lower limbs. Here and
ihere the monotony of the attire was broken
by the appearance of some who were dressed
in blue instead of j-ellow; but taken alto- ?
gether the dress, if comfortable and enduring,
was scarcely one which a man being a free
agent would choose for himself.
The gangs which Mrs. M?ler passed on the
roadside were for the most part engaged in
handing lumps of turf from man to man.
They performed these duties in a listless, per
functory manner, although, standing on the
hillside above every band of workers, were two
men in long dark coats wiih the sLdhing but
tons of authority, and each of these men held
a ri?e with fixed bayonet. j
Farther away in the quarries could be seen
many other such gangs, digging, delving, haul
ing, wheeling barrows, and performing other
operations needful for extracting the famed
Portland stone from tho ground.
After passing various sentries, and driving
for some distance along the level ground, Mrs.
Miller's cab reached a beautiful, tall, but
tressed wall; skirting this it turned at right
angles, and very soon drew up before an im
posing entrance built of gray stone, and bear
ing over the archway the royal arms of Eng
land. This was the entrance to her majesty's
prison of Portland.
In front of it, across the road, stretched the
governor's garden, still brilliant with flowers
and looking like a glorious oasis in the midst
of a barren land. A man who in the dis
charge of his duties has to live on the top of
Portland island wants a garden or something
of that sort. Without it the monotony of the
place would drive him mad.
But Mrs. Miller did not even look at the
gay beds. She dismounted, and after telling
the cabman to wait for her, walked boldly
through the prison gate.
She was immediately accosted by a portly,
gc>od-tempered-looking janitor, whose gold
laced cap spoke of superior standing. He
ushered her into a little waiting-room just
inside the gate, and asked her to state her
business. Mrs. Miller's business was to see
one of the convicts, by name Maurice Har
vey.
Now, co":. lets are only allowed to see their
friends once in six months; so Cie janitor
shook his head dubiously. Still as Mrs.
Miller was a most respectable-looking woman,
ho said he would mention the matter to the
governor. He begged the lady to take a chair
and then left her.
She sat for some time in the bare little
waiting room, the walls of ~Vch wer? d?do
rateci w?tn notices requesting visitors to tht
prison not to offer the warders any money,
but to deposit such donations as they wished tc
make in boxes that were hung against the wall
for tho benefit of discharged prisoners and the
officers' schools respectively. After awhile
the good-natured janitor returned. Ho told
Mrs. Miller that the convict had not seen a
friend for many months, so upon his return
from work ho would bo asked if ho would like
to see her. She must givo her name.
She wrote it down, then waited patiently.
By and by thoro was a measured tramp o?
many heavy fe?t, and sho knew the convicts
were returning to dinner. After the tramp
had died away a warder made his appearance
and told her to follow liim.
It was but a step. He opened a door in the
rear of tho waiting room, and Mrs. Miliei
found herself ina] ?lace which could suggest
nothing eke than a den at a zoological gar
den, one sido of tho room being formed ol
iron l>ars about six inches apart, and oppo
site was a similar den with its front turned
towards it and entered by. another door, and
betwi ea the two was a space, a narrow den,
entered by another door and containing a
stool.
Presently the door of tho middle den opened
and a warder entered and seated himself upon
the stool; then tho furthest door.o?>e:ied, and
one of the blue-bab:'tcd convicts walked up
to tho bars and gavo his visitor a nod of care
less recognition.
As a rule, when a female friend is per
mitted to see a convict there is weeping and
wailing. Hands are stretcl>ed out through
the bars across tho open space, and if the
two persons are of ordinary stature, finger
tips may just meet. This is better than
nothing. Time was when no open space
divided the friends; they could kiss and al
most embrace through one set of bars. But
it was found that the visitor's kiss often
transferred a half-sovereign from her mouth
to the convict's. A kindly action, no doubt,
but one which when discovered led the man
into trouble, knocked off goo..l-conduct marks,
and lengthened bis time of imprisonment:
So now there is a spaco of something like live
feet betw^oa the visitor and tho visited
With tb?dso t-.vo there was no weeping, nc
stretching out of hands. In fact, as M is.
Miller looked at the caged creature in front
of her an expression very nearly akin tc
hatred settled on her strongly-marked fea
tures. Yet, in spito of his close-clipped
crown, shaven cheeks and ugly attire the
convict was 1 >y n< > means ill-lo< >king. His fea
tures wf-ro straight, and might even have
been en1. M refined. Ho was above the mid
dle height, broad shouldered and healthy
looking. His teeth were g<>od, and his bands,
although rough and hardened with toil, were
not the hands of one who lias lai lored from
his childhood. His eyes had a cruel, crafty
look in them; but this look might have been
acquired sine? his incarceration. Indeed,
Mrs. Miller had noticed tbo sam* expression
in the eyes of every convict whom she had
met on the road to the prison.
Mrs. Miller looked through her bars at the
convict; the conviot looked through his bars
Urs. Miller looked through her bars *c the
convict.
at Mrs, Miller; the warder between them sat ,
on his stool sublimely indifferent, and for a
while there was silence. The convict was the j
first to break it. |
"Oh, it's you, is it?" he said.
"Yes, it's mo," said Mrs. Miller.
"Well, what do you want? To see how I
am getting on?"
He spoke quite jauntily. His visitor gazed !
at him scornfully.
"Oh, I'm in splendid health," he continued, j
"Physically, Pra twice tho man I was when I
came here. Regular hours, regular meals,
regular work. Constitution quite set up. Ino
chance of my dying before my term's up."
"No, I'm afraid there isn't," said Mrs. Mil
ler with such bitterness that the impassive
warder glanced at her, and wondered what
manner of prisoner's friend this was.
Tho prisoner's face changed. He scowled at
her as darkly as she had scowled at him.
"When will your time be up?" she asked
sharply. "Can you tell me?' she added,
turning to the warder.
"Can't say exactly," answered the warder.
"He's in blue, so he's in his last year. "
Mrs. Miller shuddered. Ker hands clenched
themselves mvoluntarily.
"I want- to know," she said, addressing the
convict, "what arrangements you will be
willing to make when you. come out. That is
the object of my visit."
The man looked at her mockingly. "I have
thought of nothing as yet," ho said, "except
tho joy I shall feel at once more returning to
the arms of my devoted wife."
The woman's dark eyes blazed. She leaned
her face against the bars and glared at the
shaven face before her. "How much money
do you want?" she whispered.
The convict shrugged his uninteresting
looking shoulders. "Money is an after con
sideration ; I am pining for connubial felici ty."
She turned and paced the narrow space.
The warder grew quite interested in the inter
view. As a rulo his duties were very monoton
ous. He recognized the fact that the present
conversation was out of the ordinary run.
The woman seemed to have forgotten his
presence. She stamped her foot and turned
fiercely to the convict
"Look here," she said, "will you go to
America, Australia, anywhere? Money will
bo found."
"fertainly net," ^aid the polite convict
"Besides, sir," he :-dded, turning' to the
wardor with an assumed air of deference, "I
believe it is a sine qua no?, I mean it is indis
pensable, that for some time I must report
myself to the police once a month?'
Tho warder nodded.
"God' help us!" murmured the woman.
Then turning to the convict, she said:
"You'll let me know when you are re
leased?'
"Oh, yes. 11 let you know fast enough.
You'll bo one of tho fust I shall come and
sec. Nov.-, if you've nothing more to .??ay, ]
ask to be taken back to my dinner. Good
and plentiful as the fare is, I like it wane
better than cold."
The stolid warder could not help smiling.
The time usually allotted for an interview
with a prisoner had by no means expired. It
was b. aew experience to find a convi?t of hif
own free wEl -curtailing his privilege. H?
turned inquiringly to Mrs. Miller.
"(iot anything more to say to him?" ne
asked.
"No," she answered sullenly. The convict
made. her a police bow as she turned and
waited to tho door of her own den. She
stood outside on the gravel fora moment, and
gazed moodily after Ko. 1,080 as he was con
ducted by bis guardian across the open space
and vanished from sight round the chapel on
the way to his own cell. Then she entered
the waiting room, where she found the civil
official who had at first accosted her.
Prom him she ascertained the proper office
at which the inquiry she wanted answered
should be made; and upon applying there
learnt that No. 1,0S0, supposing he continued
to conduct himself as ho had hitherto done,
that is, earning tho maximum of eight good
marks a day, would obtain his ticket-of-leave
in about six months' time.
"Then what becomes of him?1 she asked.
"Do you just put him outsido the gate, and
tell him to be off?'
The officer smiled. "Oh dear, no. Ho is
asked if ho has any friends to go to, or where
he wants to go to. His fare is paid to that
place. He is given a sait of clothes and a
little money. After that he must do tho best
he can."
Mrs. Miller looked thoughtful. "Is there
anyone I could write to and ask to bo told
the day he will come out?' she asked.
"Certainly. If you are a relation or friend,
and willing to look after him, and wrote to !
the governor to that effect, no doubt you
would hear from him."
"Thank you,"' said Mrs. Miller. Then she
gathered up her biack skirts and left the
prison. Sha found her cab and was driven
back to the railway station. It was some
time before tho train left for Weyinouth; so j
sho climbed to the top of the Chcsii Beach
and sat down gazing out over tho sea. Her
lips moved, although tho rest of her body
was motionless. She was praying, and tho
petition she offered up was that Keaven in its
mercy would remove from earth a certain
convict bufare the day came upon which he
would be entitled to demand his freedom. A
curious prayer for a religious woman to
make, but after all not stranger than the
pra3*ers offered up by antagonistic armies.
The train started at last and took her to
Weymouth. Here sho obtained refreshment,
cf which, indeed, she stood much in need.
Somehow she made a mistake in tho time,
and missed tho afternoon train. Tho conse
quence was that it was past eleven o'clock
when ?he rang the bell of Ih-it methodicaliy
conducted establishment, Hazlowood House.
And the rule of Hazlowood House was that
no servant should on any pretence bo out of
doors after hal f-past nine; or. unless the pres
ence of company demanded it, out of bed
after half-past ten.
Her masters were in waiting, and at once
took her to task. Sho explained that sho had
missed the train.
"What train r" asked Horneo.
"Tho train from Weymoath, sir."
"But Miss Clausen told us you wcro gone
to London."
"MI: s Clausou inaile a mistake, sir."
Horacofelt nettled at ti:-: idra of anyone
who b-.-id even a vicarious authority from
hhaself making.a mistake. So ho said, with
saino ttsperitv, "Tuis must not occur againj
Mrs. Miller."
"And," added Herbert, "tho next time you
want a holiday kindly mention the fact to us
is well as te Miss Chiusoli. We havo a rulo
in those matters."
Mrs. Miller curtsied, and left tho i-mpi.
"Sho is a curioua looking woman," said
Borace. "' wonder if we- were right in taking
her without a character?'
CHAPTER IX.
JUM1?XG AX CONCX.ITSI02?S.
Mr. Mordle wont away tho next week. He
carried his sorrow with him, manfully re
solved to do all ho could to leave it on tho
summit of Mont Blanc, or the toatterborn, to
smkitin the Lake of Maggiore or Como, or
to cast it upon tho flowing lit inc. Ho told
niniself with such cheerfulness as he Could I
muster that ho was deeply wounded but not
killed. Before he tied the label on his port
manteau ho discharged what his keen sense
j at honor told him was a duty. He called on
; tho Talberts and informed them how he had
j fared with Beatrica
They wero very busy bottling off a quarter
I sask of sherry. They found that buying their
I wine in wood saved them Heaven knows how
j much. Now, bottling wine is a nice, digni
! fied, yet, withal, cheerful operation, in the
j performance of which a duko need not bo
ashamed to be seem If I had tho wine to bot
tle I would work at it ten hours a day. Bo
when the brothers heard that Mr. Mordi?
wished particularly to seo them, ho was asked
fco step down into the cellar.
Into the cellar he went. Not a bad place
an such a sultry day. He found Horace
seated on a low stool, with his long straight
legs spread on either side of the cask, in
something of the attitude of a reversed
Bacchus. He was filling the bottles with the
golden fluid, whilst Herbert stood near him,
and after dipping the corks into a little basin
full of wine, manipulated them with a cork
j squeezer and eventually drove them into
j their restmg-place by aid of a small spade
?haped mallet. As each bottle was filled,
worked, and put aside, Herbert made a chalk
mark on a board, and every fourth mark he
crossed with another, so that the tally could
be easily counted. The whole performance
was beautifully methodical and business-like,
reflecting great credit on the actors.
With their native politeness, the moment
Mr. Mordle came in sight they ceased their
Dccupation. Horace turned the tap and rose
from the half filled bottle; Herbert left the
cork half driven in. They greeted their visi
tor and apologized for bringing him down to
the lower regions. Although they were large
soarse white aprons, fashioned somewhat like
a girl's pinafore, they looked two well-bred
gentlemen.
"I say," said the curate nervously, "you
know I'm off the day after to-morrow."
aIsay,n said Hie curate, nervously.
"Yes. We wish you a pleasant trip."
"Thanks. Sure to enjoy myself.. I want
to tell you something beforo I go." They
begged him to speak. They thought it was
I some petty parish matter on his mind.
"Do you mind taking off your aprons for a
minute? Somehow my news doesn't seem to
St in with them."
Mordle was a privileged person. Ho
could say and do what few others could.
Moreover, his manner showed them he had
something of importance to communicate.
Without a word they untied their pina
fores, folded them up and laid them across
the sherry cask.
"Shall we go up stairsf asked Horace.
"Oh dear, no. This will do capitally.
What I want to tell you is this: Last week I
asked Miss Clauson to marry me. She re
fused. Thought you ought to know."
Horace looked at Herbert; Herbert looked
at Horace. They stroked their beards medi
tatively, but for some time neither spoke.
"Well," said Mr. Mordle, "that's all."
"I think, Mordle," said Horace sadly, "you
should have consulted us first."
"Quite so," said Herbert.
"Don't see it at all. Miss Clauson isof age.
But it doesn't matter?I tell you now."
The brothers shook their heads gravely.
"I tell you," said Sylvanus, "because Fm
going away to cure myself. When I come
buck I should liko to be able to visit you as
before. You needn't be afraid. "
"Miss Clauson must decide," said Horace.
*'Exactly so," said Herbert.
So the matter was left, and Mr. Mordle
went away on his hard-earned holiday with a
clear conscience, if a heavy heart.
The brothers returned to their fascinating
occupation and worked away for some time
in silence. Three dozen of sherry must have
been bottled before Horace 6poke:
"It is time Beatrice was married."
"Yes," said his brother; "but sho isn't a
marrying girl She takes after us, I think"
There was always a comfort in this reflec
tion; especially now, when the fame of Miss
Clausens good looks had spread through half
Westsbiro.
It was indeed time that a suitable suitor
made his appearance. The chances were
that in a year or two the girl might fall
into her uncles' old-maidish ways. For the
Talberts were now getting into a domestic
groove down which it seemed likely they
would slide until the end of their lives.
They had of course seen tho great world and
the vanities thereof, and now they found j
that there was nothing liko home, sweet |
home?especially when the disposition of the
home-lover is such that he takes an immense
interest in every detail which makes up that
sweetness; With tho exception of tho peren
nial visit to town, thev had not left Hazle
wood House for any length of time since
thoy settled down to rule its fortunes. They
went to London this year for tho last week in j
May and the whole of June. But Miss Clau
son did not accompany them. Sho said out
right that she hated London, and loved Oak
bury- and its belongings. So at Oakbury she
stayed A very carious choice on the part j
of a young lady who might, had she wished j
to do so, have spent the London season ming- j
ling in tho pursuits and gayeties of what is j
called the upper circle.
However, her decision was a certain relief j
to her uncles. Had she selected to accoin- j
pony them to town, they would hardly have j
known what to do with her. A handsome !
niece staying w:;h them at their hotel would
be?well, it not a nuisance, a responsibility. |
Approving as they did in tho main of her j
treatment of Lady Clauson, they could not ;
counsel her to go to her father's liouse. There j
were, of course, many families they knew j
who would havo been glad to have taken j
charge of a niece of theirs, but Beatrice's j
staying at another establishment whilst Sir !
Maingay was in town would clearly show j
tho world that there was a family feud, j
rsothing in tho Talberts' eyes was worse than ?
a proclaimed family feud. Hence it was that
even now theyspoko of Beatrice as only being
on a visit to them. This delicacy on their
part was a costly matter, for had thoy
brought themselves to consider tho girl as
part of the house, thoy might with [perfect
justice mid propriety have associated her
with themselves in the Juno audit, so giving
Horneo another opportunity of showing his
skill ia accounts.and estimates.
So when Miss Clausen refused to go to
London she extricated her uncles fr<::i a
dilemma. She stayed at Hazolw*ood House,
and for five weeks ntfed AVLdttakor and the
other servants as well as sho could
The Talberts h:id ?ow settlod down i>?r tho
remainder of the year. Autumn.or winter
would make little diiTerenco to th^m. TIvy
wero not, as may easily be imagined, enthusi
I astic sportsmen. Som?tanos they accepted
an invitation for a day or two's shifting;
lait that acceptance depended moro en tho ?
quality of the host than on that of tho sport.
j Although when they did shoot, they shot
I fairly well?as they did most other things? !
it may be taken for granted that their j
knowledge of tho proper treatment of gamo j
was more valuadlo when the game was lying ;
in tho larder than when it was flying or ;
] running about. They couid advise you how !
j to b:islo a hare much better than how to j
j shoot him. So it was that after their visit ;
to London they l?x>ked ui>on themselves as
pretty well fixed at Hazel wood House until 1
the next spring
Beatrice was now just past 22. It really .
was high time that a suitor came, and the \
"Tabbies," who could easily have adapted j
their feminine gifts to match making, began
to think over the eligible young men in the
county.
Then fate produced someone, whom) until
now, sho had kept in the background? But
whether eligible or not is a master we must
discover by and by.
Beatrice entering the library one morning
early in August found her uncles in high con
clave. She saw at once that something had
happened, and for the moment feared to hear
that tho red currant jelly recently made from
their own receipt, and almost, under their own
supervision, had turned mouldy. It was not
that Miss Clauson was particularly fond of
red currant jelly, her fears w-ero simply on
account of tho distress such a catastrophe
would cause her uncles' kindly natures. How
ever, the matter was not so serious as she
imagined.
Uncle Horace handed her an open letter.
"Bead that, my dear, and tell us how we
shall answer it." She read the following:
"Dear Mr. Talbert: You and your brother
haveBeveral times asked meto pay you a
visit. May I come for a week or two this
vacation ? I am rather knocked up by hard
work, and my doctor tolls me I had better
spend some time in a quiet place in tho country.
So I remembered your kind invitation, and if
quite convenient to you would come straight
from Oxford to your house. Of course, al
though rather overworked, I am noe an in
valid, or I should not think of trespassing on
you. Yours sincerely, Frank Carruthers."
""Who is Frank Ckrruthers?' asked Beatrice.
"Some relation to us, is he not?"
"His mother was my father's half-sister."
""What relation does that make ln'm to me?"
Herbert stroked his beard and grappled
with the problem. "Ho must bo your half
first cousin once removed," he said at last.
"Exactly so," said Horace.
This point being settled, Miss Clauson re
quested further information about Mr. Car
ruthers. Thereupon Horace went into family
history, which it will perhaps be better for us
to look up on our own account. On such
occasions Horace was apt to become rather
prosy.
Old Talbert's half-sister, who "Was some
years younger than himself, married, just
before the successful coup crino off, a man
named Carruth^rs. It was no great match,
and if Mr. Carmthers found domestic bliss
it was well that ho made his matrimonial ar
rangements before the "boom" in oil, tobacco,
corn or whatever it was, sent Mr. Talbert to
rJazIewood Jtiouss and county society, ?sd
ho deferrod it till thon tho chancos are that
Mr. Talbert would have insisted on his sister
doing better; for Carruthers had only a
moderate fixed income as manager of some
works in tho north.
Somehow after her marriage his half-sister
slipped away from Mr. Talbert's life. As
whole sisters and brothers so often do the
same this fact is not astonishing. Mrs.
Carruthers had several children?but one
after another they died off. She wrote to
her half-brother announcing the birth or
the death of each. Ho answered her letters
in a congratulatory or consolatory way as
the occasion required. This was about all
tho correspondence which passed between
them. When Horace and Herbert were
lanky boys in Eton jackets and round collars
Frank Carruthers to; boni, and actually
lived long enough to give promise of growing
up. Indeed, his father before ho died saw
his only surviving child a strapping young
fellow of seventeen.
Mr. Carruthers left his widow an annuity
for lifo and a few hundreds in ready money.
She lived well within her income and ex
pended her capital in fmishing her son's edu
cation. She may have had scmo of old Ta?
bert's views of things in general, although
lacking his means of carrying them out.
Anyway sho sent her boy to Oxford.
Thore, for three or four terms, he behaved
disgracefully.
He got into scrapes, difficulties and debt.
So far, indeed, Into the last that his mother
for the first and only time in her life applied
to Mr. Talbert for assistance This was given
readily, and the 3roung man was once more
set off straight.
Then suddenly Mrs. Carmthers died. Out
of her annuity she had saved enough each
year to pay a premium of assurance, and
Frank, when just twenty-one, found that her
foresight and love put him in possession of
some seventeen hundred pounds.
Whatever his faults might have been he
was passionately attached to his mother.
Her death seemed to make a changed man of
him. He immediately paid back Mr. Tal
bert's loan?better still, he went to work like
a horse?an intellectual horse, of course. Tho
consequence was that he became one of tho
most shining lights of his year, and was in
duo timo rewarded by a fellowship.
This was lucky; for after having repaid Mr.
Talbert ho had only enough money left to
tarry to the end of his Oxford course.
Eventually he settled down to try and
make his living, or augment the emoluments
of his fellowship, asan Oxfordj "coach." At
that particular time the supply of coaches
was beyond the demand, so for some years, in
spite of his brilliant reputation, passengers?
or pupils?were few. But he stuck to tho busi
ness, and latterly had been given as much,,
even more, than ho could manage. Hence
tho overwork.
Ail this Unelo Horace told Beatrice in his
own fashion?all except the wild-oat episodo.
That was past and pone ; Frank was now a
successful man, so his youthful sins might be
forgotten.
Beatrice until now knew nothing about her
fractional cousin. An intermittent and lan
guishing correspondence had existed between
her mother and Mi's. Carruthers, but upon
tho death of his first wife Sir Maingay had
not tho least interest in keeping up any form
of relationship with Mrs. Carruthers. It is
doubtful whether he even know of her exist
ence. Tho Talberts, who were far too proud
to disown any of her kin, had met tho young
man several times and had liked what they
had seen of him. Thoy had asked Imxtto
Oakbury, and alter excusing himself once or
twice ho was now coming there.
"Is ho a clergyman?' asked Beatrice.
"He must be, I suppose."
"Xo," said Herbert. "Ho never took
orders. The fellowship he holds did not
make that indispensable."
"They ought ail to bo like that," said
Beatrice. "Men oughtn't to bo forced or
bribed to enter tho church. Besides," con
tinued she, "they ought not to make a man
give up his feUov.\snij> wheu he marries. J ast
as he wants more money they take it from
him. He must cither give up his wife or his
income.?
Miss Clauson was growing quito a philo
sopher on tho subject of marriage. Sho
poke about il as if it were an impossibility
that she herself would ever be interested in
the matter.
"My dear," said uncle Hox-ace, gallantly,
"I don't think a maii would consider two hun
dred a year a great sacrifice if you were in tho
.'mention."
Sho smiled faintly at tho compliment;
"Still tho system must l>e bad." she said. "It
might lead to all sort* <?.? unhapphiess. A
man mi'ht keep his marriage a dead secret
might not marry at all. All sorts of misery
might resulta"
"You may bo sure," said Herbert, "what
isisnek,"
"Exactly so." said Horace.
"I am sure it is 1 -ad." she said, decisively.
Miss Clauson must have been in advance o?
her day, tho authorities now having iu t
p eat measure adopted her views luid changed
the system.
"Shall wo write sr.d tell him to comef
asked Horace. "It won't be any annoyance
to you?''
"Why should it he- -what difference will it
make? Ask him, by a)l moans."
Then, hearing the patter of Little feet out
side, she left her imc??s to answer their letters,
andina tew minutes was out in the garden
romping with the child.
Horace wrote a beautifully worded letter to
Frank Carruthers, expressing tho pleasure he |
ami his brother f?lt at hearing of tho prom
ised visit, lio begged him to fix Ids own day ?
for coming, and to stay as long as hoconve- j
niontly could. The letter was handed to Her- ?
rt for perusal and approval. Herbert read j
it, and after nodding his head continued to ;
bold the letter in his hand, whilst a kind of j
puzzled, thoughtful l<x)k spread over his face, j
Strange to say, Horace also fell into a rev- '
eiie. For some ten minutes the two brothers .
sat facing cue another, stroking their beards.
If that vulgar wretch from whose rank mind
that feline nickname first sprung could have
seen them he would, I am afraid, have been
quite satisfied that he had chosen an appro
priate designation when he dubbed them the
"Tabbies."
Herbert and Horace knew without speaking
that their thoughts were running in parallel
lines. They often thought of the same thing
without a previous word on th? subject. Tho
similarity of their natures, no doubt, accounted
for this.
"Herbert," said Horace at last, "you are
thinking of what Beatrice said?"
"Yes, I am."
"So am L It seemed a revelation, but
we oughtn't to jump at conclusions."
"No," said Herbert, "but the fact remains.
Some four years ago he bad nothing but his
fellowship to live upon."
"You are right, nothing. Beatrice spoke
justly. She may by chance have strode the
mark."
"I am afraid so. Still, we must not be
hasty. Yet, whoever sent the child must
6ave fancied it had some claim on us."
"It is ridiculous to suppose that an entire
stranger would have done such a thing."
"Quite so," said Herbert,
' "He may have been much tempted; at that
tame have been driven to his wits' end It is
a sad affair; let us try and piece it together."
Then, like a couple of old women, they began
to construct their new theory.
"TTe will say," began Horace, "he was max?
riad four years ago."
"Yet was dishonorable enough to CSnceaJ
It, so that he might hold his fellowship."
"Of course this is all supposition, " said
Horace. The word dishonorable in connec
tion with one of his own kin grated on his
ear.
"Exactly so," said Herbert "I should sus?
pect that his wife died?perhaps recently,
perhaps shortly after the birth of the child."
"The latter, I should think. Frank makes
a large income now, and could afford to give
up two hundred d year."
"Yes," said Herbert, "the wife died after
the birth of the boy. The older the child got
the more trouble he found it to conceal its
identity. Thereupon he sends it to us, trust
ing we may keep it."
"And new," capped Herbert, "after de
clining former invitations, he comes to us
himse??. The further we pursue the matter
tho clearer it becomes."
They were quite in a state of m d excite
ment. That they could draw logical infer
ences We have seen by the affair of Ann Jen*
kins' stockings. The brothers had both been
distressed that all their speculations as to lit*
tie Harry's origin had fallen to the ground
for want of proper support. Now, at last,
was a theory which, if it reflected dishonor
on a connection of theirs, was at least tenable.
It was improbable, but tho whole affair was
so monstrous that it needed an improbability
to account for it. They absolutely argued
themselves into beheving they had found the
truth.
"Didcotis the junction for Oxford," con
tinued Herbert, after a pause.
"Besides," said Horace, "we cannot forget
that his conduct once was not what it should
have been."
That's the worst of going wrong. No
amount of straight running will make people
cease to look at times askance. The work of
reformation is child's play to that of making
your friends believe jou have reformed.
Therefore Horace Talbert's remark was a
clincher. Herbert toyed with the open letter.
"Shall we send this?" he asked ^_
They fell to stroking the-i?^ beards once
more, and continued i?^5peration until the
natural^kindlinWof their hearts reasserted
itselfv""'
"After all," said Herbert, "it is all purely
conjectural."
"Completely so."
"He had better come, then."
"I think so. Besides, it will give us an
opportunity of seeing him with the child;
surely the instincts of paternity must show
themselves."
"They are supposed to be very strong."
But as neither of them knew anything about
paternity, these remarks were made in a
doubtful tone, and were subject to correction.
The polite letter was sent, and a week after
the ending of the Trinity term tho young
Oxford tutor packed up his things and started
for Oakbury.
As there is no occasion to make superfluous
mysteries, it may at once be said that Frank
Carruthers knew no more of the existence of
tho child whom his amiable uncles had argued
themselves into believing to bo in some way
his property than he knew of?for the sake of
a simile?say the presence at Hazlewood
House of a gray-eyed girl, whose beauty
would satisfy every demand of his rather
fastidious taste.
fio BE CONTINUED ]
What Our Editors Say.
Greenville Kewe.
Greenville owes Congressman Dibble
something for his efforts to secure the
United States court house building for
this city, and we do not forget it, But
we must say he is engaged in very silly
child's play now.
The exchange of epithets through
newspapers between grown men is
usually foolish ; between men holding
responsible public positions, represent
ing respectable constituencies, and sup
posed to set some sort of decent exam
ple, ;it is criminal.
Mayor Courtenay is not responsible
for the present exhibition. What he
said of Mr. Dibble was said in a com
munication to Secretary Lamont, not
intended to reach the public eye. The
fact that a mau bolds a public office
docs not forbid him to express his opin
ion of auothcr man's conduct to the
persons immediately interested. But
there is no necessity or escuse for ob
truding a retort to such an expression
on the general public.
The thing is made all the more ab
surd and relieved of any dignity that
might be given it by the possibility of
tragedy by the evident fact that all this
denunciation is entirely safe.
A few years ago wheu a man called
another a liar it meant something, for
the accuser was compelled by public
sentiment to niaku his charge good,
fight or back down. Now such an ut
terance means nothing in the world but
a bad temper and a presumption of de
feat to inspire it. Everybody knows
that the mayor of Charleston and the
congressman frota that district may
call each other liars until. they are
black in the face without the remotest
probability, under our present laws, cf
either suffering from anything worse
than lacerated feelings.
Now what does Mr. Dibble expect io
accomplish ? He is generally a sensible
man, and knows that \Vm. A. CoprW
nay has uot maliciously uttered any
falsehood aim that nobody will believe
he has done so. He knows he can per- !
suade ni>body that Captain Courtenay
is a. coward He hnows he cau ,aot
carry eon vietimi of his own truth and
fairs-ess io the public miud by general,
sweeping and absurd denunciation of
Iiis assailant.
The pcoj>Ie harc tbc right to demand j
that tho*e chosen to represent them in:i
high places should use wisdom, modera- |
tion and dignity. No man can read
Mr. Dibble's card and see anything in ;
it but undignified foolishness and
violence of accusation and lan<rua>re,
unsupported by evidence or the weight
of personal ac?oh?ilability.
We do not. iji?ail to. imply that Mr.
Dibble has wil'falTy published a misstate
ment or that his conduct would be dif
ferent if he could be held to ac^oaut
under "the code of honor."
What a very large number of herbea
and popular idols are tumbling from
their pedestals and revealing the ord?*
nary character of their clay this year !
We shall have none left after a while it
the present rate of mortality among
them continues.
tresiaetit with a Will of t?i?
Own,
Uolumbia Register.
Cleveland is cropping out among the
politicians generally as a man with a
will of bis own. Well, so* long as a
President keeps Within his appointed
sphere, we don't know that there is any
objection to this. No President show
ing the right sort of grit, ?fheisb??
lieved to be conscientious and does not
break with his own party, .has need to
fear letting it be understood that* he
meaos to hold the reins. The people.
like a man of will, if they believe him
honest and trae and fair. If ever ?
man tested this Old Hickory did; and -
he went beyond his legitimate sphere to
do it at times. But the people believed
Jackson to be honest and true and hence
they stood by htm under every emer
gency. The greatest intellects of the
country broke with him and at one time
were combined against him. Nothing
for that, he held his grip on the reins
as though he had been born to an im*
perial rule and held his own against all
odds. Let Cleveland impress his party
with being true to his principles ana
fair to his own party, whilst he is fair
to the opposite party when the interests
of the country and honest recognition
of the right require it, and he will hold
his own.
Of course, there will bo differences t?f
opinion arising within the Democracy
as to the policies to be pursued in the
practical conduct of things. The Demo*
cratic party has been out of power for
twenty-five years. In the meanbTmeV"""
world of men and things has grown lip.
Men of common sense cannot fail to see
this, and that they cannot undertake to
put new wine into old bottles. What*
ever our principles, we must accept the
situation and deal with it as a fact*
And this not with a cowardly fear of
our own principles; bat such a practi*
cal and sagacious use of the trusts pat
in our hands as shall show the country
that the Democracy is capable of higa
statesmanships
Our conviction is that the country,
tho whole conntry, is going to give Mr.
Cleveland and the Democracy, a fair \
showing, and, as we show ourselvesjJgC?
faithful in the trusts committed to~our
charge and faithful to the whole'country
^ a-nnited-houssbo?d-j^BorOl?veland ana
the Democracy will be accepted and sas*
tained.
'The Civil Service Iniquity*
Abbeville Meditan.
One of the greatest humbugs of the
j day is the Civil Service Commission or
I ganized under the act of Congress cf
1883. > Dorm?n . Eaton, a rank radi
sai, is at the head of it, by appointment
of President Arthur. fie has been
pouring out his wrath on the editor o?
the Newberry Observer who recently
exposed the absurd, partisan and igno
rant Board cf Examiners in this State
which was made up of Wilderand Wal
lace two colored Republican politicians
and Leaphart who declined to serve.
The supposed object of the law was de?
feated by such appointments and the
Observer very plainly showed up the
iniquity of the whole thing. Eaton did
not vindicate these appointments bat
indulged in a tirade of foul and unseem
ly abuse of the editor of the Observer^
The whole system of Civil Service is*,
rotten from the top to the bottom. No -
matter how much good political theorists -
may have expected from the law, ite
practical operations have been disgust
ing. With incompetent Boards of Ex-,
aminers, manipulated from Washington, -
merit has been retired and the most ob-i
noxious partisans have monopolized aljtr"
the important offices of the Govern
I ment.
I We never favored the law and we -"
j now nave stronger objections to it than/
iever, since we have seen more of the
i evils flowing from its enforcement. The '
; last Legislature endorsed the system in "
a series of resolutions which were for- *
warded, to President Cleveland. We ;
are happy to Say fc&at we opposed the
I measure.
j: ... Darlington ^ezes.
t Tbc contest between the friends of
Mesare. Walker and Mowry for coliee
I torship of the port of Charleston has
; gone to such an extent as to threaten
I the solidity of the Democratic party iav*
! that city, on the appointment of sj^erp
one of them. Their conduct is Wash
ington and their utterances ic petitions
and newspaper articles- have been such,
that President Cleveland'expressed him
self some days ago as coming to the I
conclusion that It" would be best to let
T. B. Johnson serve bis time on*. [
i This action of the President' wob&S.be a *
Uttosiog -rebuke to the vi?lense of greed ,
for oihee and would oe ao more than
the Democrats of Charleston or any oth
; cr section deserve, if, as is asserted*
the nomination of one man should split
the party. Some cf our Etemocrate
have forgotten how. little we. wanted in .
j 1876, and how we looked on the car
j pet-bag scramble for office. If at this
? early day, almost before the Natiena? ,
Democracy have had time to take i? the ^
fact that tLey are in, come the raasors .
J that a portion cf tho Sont h Carolina .
I Democracy aro abo ai to split off on the _
i office question, the supremacy of the par- ?
ty in the State is doomed. It was this .
same greed for office, and its. accompa^ .
: nying salary and perquisites which gaTe g
; us Moses and others of that ?k and u
I produced McLane and his. gang. . Let _
: Charleston beware lest she produce an~~
other Taft. .Something moss he "rot
teu iu Denmark." . , .
Tyranny of. Opinion b twin brother .
to Tyranny of the Sword;?you ?annota
I foster the former without, inviting the
I latter.?John' SxtrJoiSs Paper.
personalities should be pronounced
contraband by .the.ncxt Prese Associaci
tian, and be followed by the expulsion
of such as stoop to indulge* in the use
of them.?San Antonio Times.
The Presbyterian General Assembly w?t
meet io Augusta, Ga., next year.

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