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If My WlfbTatMftt School.
?l !Ji utrteii. I'd fiau from the Pu p natives around Jloga- Jf my wlfo taught itcliool " I would, wouUiu't you? KrwonMn tyuL? Iinny way what would you do? .ll?MS Wtfe tflU'' "OllOOl I WOUld Bt boiwetlilijjr flu la tbe shape of a furniture , scti IX I opuld pay By bourd and sho could pay hern; ercarii4'OD1 maDy Dtc0 llttl t,,UJ 1 CUN Jf my wlfo taught Rohool, I would, wouldu'tyou? I-r wouldn't yuhr Anyway what would you do? If my wlfo taujrht school you can tot I would fly IJVo a condor, I'd roost pretty mlddltu' hlirlu J d wear a Bilk tlio and own uoRses. 1 vow. And do lot o' tlilnun Hint I ain't coin' now. If my wife taught school, I would, wouldn't you? r.f wouldn't villi? Anyway what would you do? If my wlfo tnusrht school like fome women do And I could earn Quito enough for us two. J d jro In the barnyard, without auy fuss, I wuu l blow out my brain with ablirbluiv Icrbuss. 1 f my wife to tight school, 1 would, wouldn't your tr wouldn't yuh? Aay wuy what would vou do? JJow llaefcloy. JOE ROGER'S MOTHER. If yon have never been in the vallev of the Tennessee I mean that part of the famous valley that stretches south westward from tho great Sand Mount ain to the picturesque table lands of Mount Sauo you have missed a scene .fairest of all in that country of fair scenes. I will not attempt to describe it I can not do it justice. No ono can. It is the paradise of North Ala bama, and iu the heart of that far Southern district, devastated by war, and yet, thanks to its protecting bul wark of mountains. St-s pleasant homes and well tilled lands, escaped almost unscathed. Not many mile to the north is Look out Mountain nnd tho battle-fields of Mission llidge and Chickamauga. Fur ther to the south nnd west, on the same great trunk line that passes within the shadow of tho heights on which Hooker fought the "battle in the clouds,11 is that already famons young city of phenomenal growth, Decatur, and be yond that tho uew Sheffield and war scarred Corinth. But while this corner of the great valley saw little of either blue coats or gray except, perhaps, an occasional foraging party that chance led away from the railroad and into tho garden land between the big hills the valley gave its best blood for the cause of the Confederacy, and sons and brothers left the cotton unpicked in tho Held to join Brairg and his gathering hosts across the border lino of Tennessee, or to follow the fortunes of Morgan or Stuart on their cavalry raids to the North. Back from the 'Tennessee, in a cove Erotected from-tho corthers by the road back of Monte Sano, n hardy monntaiu farmer bad built a house of uncut stone. a poor place at best, but a home for the sake of what was in it. It was not a ty ideal Southern borne. for tho good wife and mother was housekeeper, dairymaid and gardener all in one. while the two strapping bovs, with their (father, did the work Which on other plantations fell to the task of the negrolaves. At the 'near est store, at Mayville.old John Rogers was. with indiscriminate courtesy. dubbed "Colonel." Why, he never knew, Perhaps uo one else did. kven before the war .military titles were popular iu Dixie, Now tbey aro all colonels. So few 'privates escaped tho war. "Among the negrocs"Colonel".Jhn was looked upon with some disdain. A man who worked"' his farm with out a single black "boy1 was not likely to win the resptct-of "the quarters at tho big plantation on the river, larm . erswho worked were "ooor-ah whito trash" in those days of easy indolence. But "Colonel'1 John thrived for all i that, and never a home in all the broad valley was happier in the little cove itinder the shadow of Monte Sano. News travels slowly in the country. !ln those days few newspapers found (their way into the Tennessee Valley of Alabama, and the first shock of war at Fort Sumter was too far away to affect the tranquility of the people by the great river. Then came the frantic rail for troops by the government at Jaontgomery, and the great valley was at last awakened to the horrors of war. A recruiting, office was opened at Iiuntsville, ten miles away, on tho other side of Monte Sano, and hus bands ami fathers and sons left their homes and people went away to the waa The valley of the Tennessee was desolate. The negroes went blocking northward in search of the Army ot emancipation, and the cotton was left in tho bolls to spoil. There came a timewhen even food was scarce, and beef was worth its weight in the strango new scrip the Confederate covwriment had issued. 4 Colonel'1 John fared worse than man, although for months after tne boys l the lower vaucy naa gono away into Tennessee his sons yielded to the iwish of the old folks and stayed at home. The time came, however, when honor compelled them to go, and thev went; but tho eyes of the aged mother vero wet with tears and the face of tlio white-haired "Colonel11 John wis etrangelv old wbcu they bade their boys gootf-by. There are brave hearts hero at home who remember those sad farewells, when the boys iu blue went far away to light atxl die on these Southern battlefields. There were the fiimo sad partings iu nuiuy a Southern home. And the war left hundreds of decimatea families in that fair valley. Months passed, and then years. -Occasionally letters from tho absent soldier boys came to. the old folks in the cove, but Ihey were few und very ar betveMi. They had gone nortii and enlisted in the Arojy or Virginia. 1'bejr had been at Bull Kim. ami had been on the Poniuiulu iu the checker board operations of MoCtellan's cam paign. The latest letter; scribblod In encil and wjitten in haste, nnd read a that Jitlle homo with aching yet thankful hearts, told of good hoaitli and Confederate success. Side by srlo tho brothers had fought, as yet unhurt. , How tliw were 0 wilu co into tbe land of promto tho rich, corn-growing valleys of Pennsylvania. Gettysburg came, and tho Army . of Virginia, ..rudely awakened from its victorionsf security, was hurled back across Maryland and into Virginia sgaia by the military genius of Meade. Iu the carnage of the first day tlio older brother was killed. The younger, while retreating with his decimated regiment froiu au unsuccessful charge, was taken' r 16 iv?r.-- In company with several other Alabama soldiers, young Iiogers, even then n mere boy. was brought to Philadelphia, and from there sent to Fort Delaware ns a pris oner of war. There he remained" un til the surrender of Lee at Appomattox Court House. ' V Tbe sad news of the battle of Gettys burg was slow in - reaching the little home by Monte Sano, but when it did come it broke; the .spirit of "Coloner1 John and turned still whiter tho head of the sweet-faced mother: for it was said that iu the battle both boys had fallen under tlio shower of Federal balls. It was not long beforo there was a "burying'1 from the house in tho cove, ami tho body of Colonel'1 John was laid to rest among tho pines he loved so well. And tho mother? Sho too would gladly havo died, but nature was too strong. Tho time came, moreover, when she was glad that death had spared her. for there came to her from far away Fort Delaware a letter from her surviving boy, telling of the older brother's death and tho younger one's Imprisonment. She road the letter many times, nnd as tho tears rolled down her unken cheeks she fell on hex knees and thanked God that cue sen at least had been spared to her. A sudden resolution possessed her. She wonld leave tho little homo in tho cove and go away to the North. She would go to Fort Delaware, and they would not refuse to let a mother see' her son even a "Confederate" mother. Once she had lookul upon his face again she would have courage to wait for his release. Traveling was slow. Weeks passed before sho was enabled to get through the opposing lines aud into Washing ton. At last, dying from want, sorrow and fatigue, she stood in tho command ant's rooms at Fort Delaware with written permission to see and speak with the boy she loved so well. They tell" sad stories of Fort Dela ware in the South. They call it tho Libby Prison of the North. I don't like to believe it. Neither do you. They say that after a certain engage ment tho Northern generals accused the Confederates of outrageous cruelty, and in retaliation a score or more prisoners were taken from the fort and Iguominiously hanged. Perhaps they were mistaken, nnd that thero were better grounds for hanging than that. By some means n rumor had gained credence in the prisoner's barracks that something of the kind was to take place, while the impression prevailed that special vengeance was to be meted out to the soldiers of Alabama, because of alleged outrages committed by regi ments from that state. Young iiogers was not n coward, but he had no desire to meet so unsold ierly a death. With that iuventive genius whicli develops so rapidly among those held in con finement, tho prisouers in Rogers1 "gang" dug out tho stonework and earth under ono of the banks, and thus secured not only a comparatively safe hiding place for pilfered provisious, but also for one or more of their num ber when occasion demanded that they should keep under cover for a time. The rumor that retaliatory measures were in order strnck consternation to many a bravo heart, and when, for any reason, n Federal orderly came to the prisoners1 barracks and called the name of "JoSnny . Reb," there was a general feeling fof misgiving, and an effort made, when possible, to discover for what purpose the prisoner was wanted before answering to his namo. So that when one da 3- tho barracks wero excited to a fever point by the ealling of a dozen names or more, and the namo of "Joe Rogers" rang with startling distinctness in the cars of that young Alabamian.'ho did not wait to bo seen, but hurriedly crawled into the "grub" hole nnd held his breaih for fear of discovery nnd the conse quences that would follow. Three times tho orderly called. '.'Jee Rogers! Joe Rogers! Joo Rog ers!" rang through the long corridor. Tlieu the prisoners crowded around, .and tho orderly seemed to bo unaware that Rogers had failed to answer to his name. Ho went away, and on tho rec ords it was written that Joe Rogers had been .transferred as even the officers thought to bo hanged. A Had look came over the face of tho commanding officer when tho white haired woman gave him the slip of paper that to Jier'moant so much. "Rotors is uot hero now,1' he said finally. Siie looked at him, dazed by tho in telligence. "Not here?" "No; he has been .transferred.'1 "Where?'1 The officer had a heart. "I I do not know," ho said. He could not toll the sad-eyed woman what he believed to Ikj tho'truth. But he cnuid not deceive her. "Ho is dead!" she cried, wildly, and tottering forward she clasped her hands across her breast and sank into a chair. "My poor boy! ho sobbed. "I loved "you too. and yet I was too late!" Tho parched lipn closed over tho sad grey ejus; the tired head fell forward; the nervom lingers relaxed their hold. Come,1' said the officer kindly, "you must go now. 1 cau not permit rou to remain here." There was no answer. "I am waiting" he began, and then he paused nbruptlj'. Something strange in n&r appearance startled him, and he stooped down nnd peered into her face. As he did so tears came into his eyes. The 'sweet-faced mother would never see tho valley of tho Tenuesseo again. She was dead. News flies in jails as it flies else where. In his hiding-place that night young Rogers was told the slory of his mother's death. Strong man though he was, the shock was almost more than ho could bear, and he grieved bitterly at the thought that, even dead, he might not look upon her face, but he was jjl.id for on thing. There were k!nJ hearts among the boys in blue, and they took the body of the dead mother across to New Castle, and there in' the old church yard reveren tially laid it to rest. . Rogers ma-uagud to escape detection' ifor the few weeks remaining before the close of the war. After tho surrender he was liberated' aud returned to Ala bama. There he lives und there I met him. He told me this story, and I repeat it becnuso it comes so near homo. It interested me and I think it will jon. -Philadelphia News. STARTIMG A PIPE LIME. Exciting Phenomena Attending th Keif Flau for the Transportation of Oil. When tho first pipe line was started in its work of conveying oil from the vicinity of the wells in "Pennsylvania to the seaboard sonio peculiar phenom ena were noted. Tho prospect that oil may 6oou bo transported iu a sim ilar manner to Denver, not only from Morrison, but also from tho Florence oil fields, will add interest to tho recital of these phenomena. The story is told by John Ward, one of the watchmen on duty along the new pipe line. He was cautioned to watch a certain hollow where tho pipe, coming over one eminence, passed down through it nnd up over a mountain to the eastward. Hi tells how ho heard tho oil gur gling past, nnd as all seemed safe he followed the lino two miles beforo turning back into this hollow. He 6 ays: "Imagine my astonishment when I saw the place I had left a short time beforo so tamo now hissing at ten thousand points. Jets of oil were fly ing twenty feet high nnd hundreds of barrels were flowing down Hiner's Run, never to see n market. "I thought the pipe was gone np, sure. At first I was afraid to approach it. but soon grow valiant, and with a calking chisel I set to work to stop tlio leaks. I made poor headway; it was a dark night and I dared have uo light. I had taken off my coat, the whizzing oil carried away my hat, nnd I very soon became drenched with oil. My pockets, my hair and my eyes were full, and if I was not then an "oil man I would like to know what constitutes ona. I at length grew sick, and sup posed I would have to give up and all would be lost, and instead of an out pressure I could hear an in-drawing, a suction of air. "I now realized the fact that the oil had been climbing the up-grade, but jvas now on the descent for Pine Bot tom Run. This caused a suction and relieved the hollow at the springs. "I again waited some timo. when I reseived word to hasten to Huneyville. that the pipe was bursting. When I arrived there the people were greatly excited. The pipe was throbbing and wheezing at every pore. McClure Spring was nowhere. Tho oil was sponling from the pipe for miles. I knew from experience that tho oil had reached and was climbing another high mountain, and the pressure was so great that 1 feared every moment the pipe would burst. "Wo all stood still and looked on. Suddenly, as quick as thought, all motion ceased except a sucking in of air, aud I heard the oil passing rapidly along the pipe. I knew that it hail crossed the last mountain and that the oil Hue was an established fact.11 Tho Coming Ocean tt earner. Here is a very clever picture from the Pall Mall 'Gazettir. She will be over a quarter of a mile in length, and will do the nass:ige from Sandy Hook to Liverpool in thirty-six hours, being one night out. She'will be driven by electricity and in such a fashion as to keep railway time despite storm or fog. Passage can bo secured by flash photo Edison's patent and the ticket will include an opera stall or a concert ticket or a seat in a church pew. the opera house, concert hall and church being all on board. A covered ring for horse exercise will bo provided aud a racing track for fast trotters. A base ball ground and tennis courts will also form a portion of the attractions. For business men a stock exchange will be operated, the quotations being posted from .the tickers every two minutes, on tho vibration system. The leading papers of all countries will be reprinted each morning by tho electric rellection system. A spacious conservatory, containing the choicest flowers of all climates, will afford an agreeable lounging place, and bouquets will be provided gratis. As at Monaco aud Monte Carlo, a suite of apartments will bo laid out for play, to bo kept open all night a sumptuous supper with the costliest wines free. English tailors and shoemakers will be in attendance, and clothes will be made and finished il 11 ring the passage. The millinery department will con tain the French fashions of the previous day, and costumes will bo confectoned whilo the ship is en route and delivered complete on arrival at dock. Accom modation will bu furnished for 10.000 passengers. A Story of Josh Killings. A few years ago, riding up town in a Madison Avenue car, T was seated opposite the,ge.nlleman who is best re membered ns Josh Billings. Tlio rear platform was somewhat crowded, and in the course of our ride ono of the passengers stepped off and on several times, iu order toassi a; tho lady passen gers. Finally, when the car "was just comfortably filled, and tho courteous gentleman had taken his seat inside. Josh ",fugs, seeing an opportunity for a joke, beckoned to tho conductor, and pointing to tlio stranger, said, "Don't vuu chariro for nrerv ride on this car?"" "Yes, sir.11 answered he. "Well, Pvo seen that fellow get or this car six times, and you have col lected only one fare from him.1' 11T pcr'9 Magazine. Walldorf and the A tors. The little town of Walldorf, neat Heidelberg, where John Jacob Astor, tho first, was born, has received, ac cording to the German 'papers, 60.000 murks from William Walldorf Astor. The money is to bo applied the Astor memorial in the memory of Mr. Astor's father. William Walldorf Astor has been elected an honorary citizen 0 the town. "THE DUCHESS." CHAPTER IV.CoNTixxjrD. Tho squire called attention to tbe ex cellent shooting and tho rare sport they would havo at Christmas time. I "X UU. you,' warming to hia subject, I "the snlpo bwarra there like .bees. Why, there wo one Winter here was it. latt winter, now?'1 niodititively." "Norah, what whiter wcu it that tlio snipe were so plentiful round here?" "it was tire winters ago," , says tbo Duchess, with a little nod. . "Five? Was it now? Well, there's noth ing so deceiving as time! Anyhow," turn ing again to Leuia, "whatever winter it, was they were as thick as peas, and bo tame you could sweep them them oIT the hall door steps in the morning!" This astounding announcement is given without a Llush. Deuis, who is delighted with it, and the teller of it, ' laughs out loud. 'Ah I you may lauh If you like; but wo know, don't we, Norah?" giving his daughtor's ear a loving pinch. Nbrah re mains disci eotly nilout. "Sha doesn't,1' fcuya Denis mlschiovously, looking at her with such persistency that he gains his poiut and compels thoso 6woot, expressive eyes to seok his own. "What! Duchess! Turniag traitor?'1 cries the sqa'ro, catching Lor hand and pulling her forward. "Why, do.i't you know yet, after all I've taught you, that when your father tells a terra-diddle it is your duty to lack him up! Alas! tho hours I've wasted ou your education! You must excuso her, sir, " turning to Donis with an irresistible air of apology, "tho is still sadly deficient In many little ways!" CHAPTER V. Anl frrnce that won who saw to wish bet stay." Latt night somo rain had fallen, short and youthful showers, leaving small ruin la their tra k, and landing a deeper brilliancy to branch and Lough and waving grasses, that all look the fresher for their midnight bath. "Green trrovr tho rudies, O 1M Merrily, blithely, skim tho swallows through the velvet air! Coo! Coo! sigh the wood doves from the dark entrances to tho plantations beyond; and through all and above it tomes the swish-swish of tho waves as they break upon tho beach far down bo low. A heavy bunch of creamy roses, wet still with glistening rain drops, is flung by a email bat unerring l and at the casement of Delaney's room. It is as yet early morn ing, aud Denis, coming to the window in answer to this perfumed command, stands revealed in his shirt slocves, aud armed with two brushes that have as yet hardly succeeded in reducing his hah to order. "Como out! Come outl" cries a fresh, sweet voico. "What! Uot dressed yet? Why, what do you think I havo already done? I'vo been down to tho beach. I have bad a swim. I have come back again and am now regowncd ! Oh, what a lazy boy ycu are!1' Indeed, it may all very well bo true. So sweet a picture tho makes, looking ud at him with her pretty head thrown back, and her face, fresh as tho morning and as a lily fair. "I'll bo out in a moment,11 says he, not without a thought of his present rath?r or thodox costume; but suc h thought he allows after a swilt glance at her is a cruol wa-sto of time. There is n mock modesty alout her; no mausive houto anywhere. Is he not ber cousin, and U not a cousin a sort of half-brother? "You should have been cut an hour ago. Ths au then was delicious. Ilurry now, do, and put on your coat, and we'll have a run before breakfast. Hero," flinging him a rosebud, "put that in your button-hole, ana hurry, hurry, hurry!" Taere is scarcely nood for such injunc tion. Never in his life b(ore did he hurry through his toilet in such frantic haste; and presently he had his reward. Long, long years afterward he cw recall to mind the strange, will, happy senss of utter enjoy ment that clung round that morning hour spent with her, ere tho daw was lifted from the flowers or tho heart of tho day was opened. Then comes breakfast a merry meal as neither tlie squire nor his daughter can re frain from giving way to a spontaneous gayety that airects one sympathetically, and draws one into tho swift current of its own sprlghtliness. And after breakfast there is half an hour with tho squire, who insists upon his guest following him round tho extremely untidy farm yard and giving his opinion upon this and that. And then there is tho Duchess to cope with for tho rest of the delicious, lazy, sultry afternoon, t "You play tennis?" asks Denis, idly, when they havo sauntered through tho old world garden, and g.itherod themselves in a desultory fashion a very ideal bouquet. .' "Yes! Oh! yos," with a brightening tye. "Have you a court?" The Duchess colors. "A a sort of one," sho confesses. "I" hanging h.r head, "I'm afraid it isn't tho kin I of c no to which you have been ac customed." That this is probable a second's reflection assures Denis, but he refrains from saying so. ,' "Load on!" he says instead, with a severe glaico. "You ore evidently trying to, sh'rk tin contest, and I am bent (I warn you) on giving you a beating that will lust your lifetime" 4 "An! So!" cries the Duchess, nor Irish blood taking flro iit once, fcr.etful of her lato fears. "Como on, th?n!" ' Tho court, when In co.nos to it half ro luctantly led thereto by tho Duclnss, whoso desire for battle ha t eoo'.ed again as tho man h ' commenced, knowing what tho in tended field loo'i.'d lilio is of so unusual an appearance that it needs all his self -command and gmxl breeding to keep him from evincing his Btirpriso. It is indeed inennt for a court bccau.i it is portion d oir by an extremely rustle railing from tho field bo yond a stubby field yet but for tho rail ing it might have belonged been part aud panel of the stubby fiold. In fact it was last month! "It is horrid; yon won't like to play on it!" says tho poor little Duchess, plaintive ly, who had Ikvii enduring agonies ot shame on tho way hither. Thsro is indeed such a wealth of misery in her expression as would have made a worse man swear ho would plaf in it or die, "In that your plan of gotting out of your beating?" says Denis, scornfully, waving his racket on high. "If so it's a vain one, tny good child; you'll pet it in spito of all your efforts to tho contrary. Co.no, lot's begin. I thirst for the fray!" If this indeed be tho truth his thirst is considerably quenched after tho first draught. Tho ground may l-o bad nay, it is inconceivably so; the I alls abominable: but the Duchess, ot all events, is a:i tinccn querable foe. Now bre, now there sh darts, suift as a flash f ligefing, taking hli hardost balls nsthcuxh th'r were child'i rliy to her; giving him bulU impossible Id affect "taking tho shins out of aim1' alto gether, as they say down here. Is sb a spirit, or an Imp, or a girl? Was thars ever so light-footed a creature, or one so saro of her stroke? And was there ever one who at the end of a set (won literally oU her own bat) could look so cool, so lovely, so little triumphant? "You're a swindle!" says Denis, who Is as hot as she is cool, as crimson as she is pale. "You are," changing his tune, "a marvellous creature!" He says this in a pasting tone, from where he has flung him self exhausted on the grass. It is no joke, you see, playing a single game ou a hot day. in July. "Why don't you look surprised?' 1 he goes on. "You might, .if only for gen erosity's sake. Why don't you jeer at me? Aro you not proud of yourself?" "Woll, no," says tho Duchess, mildly. "To tell you the trnth, I generally boat everybody!11 Douis, as if amusol by this naive remark, which i3 rich in truth; gives way to sudden laughter. "You'll bring them down a peg or two at the Castle," ho says, inadverteutjy. Then "Don't sit so far away from mo over thero; you might as well lo In the next county. Ccnvi over here and enjoy with me the shade of tliij hospitable tree. I'd go to you, only you havo knocked mo up so com pletely." "Poor thing!" says tho Duchoss, wfth deep compassion. 8he comes to him at once and slips down on the gvas beside him, and generously pulls out a corner of her gown that he n.ay rest his head up on it. "Who thought you to play tennis in that masterly stylo!'" he n'sks, when he has sofc tltxi himself comfortably, and as closo to her as circumstances will permit. "I thought you told mo you had no neigh bors:'" "What a melancholy thought! We are not quite so destitute as all that I think what I said to you was, that thoro were no young men here; but thoro aro plenty of girls. That," with a little laugh, 4s bad enough, isn't it, without adding to it?" "I don't think girls could teach you to play as you do." "Woll, thero are somo old men, too. Dad can take .r.ost balls, and the rector fa no mean foe. And Lord Kilgarrilf, when he is at home, gives me lessons; but he is so often away." "Lord KllgarrifT," turning lazily on his elbow to look at hor; "who is ho? Another old neghbor?" "Tho oldest wo have. I remember him quite as loig as I can remembar anything." ("Old fogy evidently," thinks the young man, with an umonscious pkawo in thus thinking.) "Where is he now?" aloud. "Abroad. Soraowhore in Germany. I forget tho name of the town. There was a professor of something or other there whom he wished to see." ("if usty old pedant beyond doubt,1 de cides De'aney, still carrying out that first satisfactory tram of thought) "Book worm, I suppose," he says civilly, if su perciliously. "That sort is generally a bore, don't you thiuk? One can hardly fancy an old fellow devoted to his 'Aldmes, Ikkh nis, Elzevirs,1 wielding tho frivolous racket. By the by, how old is he? Old enough to bo your grandfather oh?" "Well hardly, perhaps," with a treacherous uncertainty of tone. "Let m see. On nis last birthday he was, I am almost sure " "Ninety-nine?" "N o. Twenty-five!" "What!" says her cousin, sitting rright and coloring warmly. Then, as though the absurdity of his extreme astonishment strikes him, ho sinks back again into his former position and alters the expression of his face. "I fancied him a modern Methu saleh. I scarcely know why," he says in dLTerent'y. "A friond of my uncle's rather than yours," "His father was dad's greatest chum down here. They were at college together and when he died a yea.' ago dad liettM after him very much. Otho is now tlSo Earl." Otho! Somehow the word, so sweetly uttorbu, ro plainly familiar, grates upon his ear. "He Is abroad," he says abruptly. "For long?" "No, ho returns next week 11 "How do you know:'" "lie told mo so in his lost letter," roplied she, simply. ISiltnca follows thbi ordinary answer. Denis, lying Lack with his hands clasped behind his head is, to all appearance, gaz ing with rapt attention at tho pale white clouds ' floating in the dazzling blue of the sky overhead; and yet and yet what is this curious sons of di; satisfaction, this contraction of tho heart, that is almost a pain? It is shnrp enough at all events ta rouso him to a clear understanding of his own position, and with tho rush of memory comoi back the knowledge that ho of all men has no right to foci anything but un concern about tho girl's alTairs this lovely child, who, whilst he Is working out the right and wren j of it all, is employing her little idle brown fiugcrjupon tho adornment of his head. . Surely it is true that "arnn tin Is somo mischief still for Idle hands to do " Through and through the few short hairs that his ba: bet- hns letthim sho is threading pieces of grasi, pulling them out again and re-arranging them as fancy dictates, care lessly, dreamily. Donis, with this new strange fear in his beart, lifts fis own hand and, taking hen "don't too mkb it!" from his head, puts It away from him with a Spartan determination. "Do you know," ho says, Bharply, with a rather forced smile, "that that the effect of your fingers going in and In like that is is mad 'enlug?" "I'f.r.'f you like it?" osks she, genuine surprise In her tone, fihe stoops over him and gaze Into hli half averted face as if to nMsure herself that ho realty can moan it. "Why. Otho loves It! Ho says it is sooth ing as a cigarefto." "I am not Otho. It does not soothe me," says DenLi, with that unnatural assumption of pleasantry. ".So far from it that I lo lieve a continuant 0 of a, wouU be danger- sns for me not for you," onfllnj; As though to place temptation beyond hit reach, he seizes upon his hitherto discarded hat, and with quite a heroio air crushes la down upon his head, lot even to his brow. "Oh, you needn't lecture me about it, lays the Duchess, with a ' little offended! glance from under her long lashes; "and you needn't put on ytnr hat. like that I am not going to touch' you. I don't wona to stick straws in your hair, believe ma I Was merely doing it to please you because Otho says " "Oh! confound Otho!" intarpctos hor cousin, impulsively; and a second later covered with conf usion. What in neaveaja name is the matter with him this moraihgr What must she think of him? The enormrwr of his misdemeanor is clear to hhn: but it J$ not so 'clear as to how he shall apologize for it; how .. explain away his unreasonable burst of irritation about what has, or at all events should have, no element of - annoy ance about it? Whilst stricken with t& niorso he is castiog about him for somo de cent excuse to offer for his conduct the Du( hoss, striking boldly Into the situation, makes an end of it "You are cross," she says calmly, re garding him with a judicial eye. 4Yom aro indeed," with sovere moaning, "ex tremely queer altogether. Do you thinlc tho sim is too hot for you, or tlio flies tq troublesome? If you think you are gofnii; to have a sunstroke or or anything of that sort, I should bo glad if you would! givo mo timely warning." It is evident that she is rather dlsgustel with bim. "I fling myself upon yonr grace's mercy," returned he with a smile that is very imploring in spite of tho lightness of his tone. "If you will believe me I don't know what is the matter with ma " Thi is strictly true. "I have,' I suppose, a wretched temper, and I lost it, aud " "And a very good thing, too," cries sho, gayly. "If it is so wretched as you say you may le congratulated on. your lass. ThiTe, don't look so miserable. I forgfvs you." "It 13 more than I deserve then. By and! by," taking tho little hand he had so rudoly repulsed anil tenderly smoothing it, "you) will remember me only as an ill-tempered) fellow who " "No! No, indeed 1" sweetly. "You must not think that Shall I tell you some thing?" bending down and looking at him with such a lovely, earnest gaae. "I like you already already, mind you much better than any ono I have ever yet met Always excepting dad, of courne " "AVhatl Better than Kilgarriff?" aBkf he, unable to refrain from this question. "A thou-and times better V frankly. "Though, indeed," with sudden contritldn, "you must understand that I am very fond of Otho, too." Delaney, who is watching hor with eagei eyes, sighs impatiently, Ob, that she vjc1;a a littlo less frank, a little more reserved. He would that he could have seen some, faint hesitation in her tone, the lightest sus picion of a blush upon her pretty cheek. But there is none nothing. And then once again comes the rush r4 memory, and with it tho new fear and the. angry self -contempt. Why should he wish her loss frank! What should be hoped from, any new-bora shyness? Has he forgotten honor, every thing, in two short days and part Of third? It is all a more touch of folly, 0 veritable mid.ummer madness. He wil fling tho thought of it for from him. But alas! alas! this is easier said than done. And in the rilent watches of the sleoplosi night, when most things are laid bore i us, be knows that at last fair love haf caught him in its toils, and that for weal 01 woo nay, woe, for a certainty! ho is S slave for evermore. At the feet of her tt6 hvX a fow days ago was as nothing to himj his heart lies wounded stricken hopelQsa CHAPTER VL Mr vnlor U certainly going! it Is sneaktns "nistl Norahl1? says the squire, in j subduod tone, putting his head cautioustj outside the door cf his own favorite dd and beckoning her to como in, great nrys tery in all his bearing. Drawing her in hi closes the door carefully behind bim anj regards her with an anxious eye. It is tho next morning and there is muck, sign of an embarrassed mind about th squire. He looks puzzled, "perplexed in the extremo,1' end his hair has taken that pronounced stage gonerally caused by thi running through it of nervous fingers. "He'll stay the week !" he says at lastj getting it out with rather a jerk. '"TUa. whole week, to a moral. I told yes how 'twould be." A little thrill of pleasure rashes through Norah. "Well! You arenH sorry, are you?" shl asks reproachfully. "Bomomber all joq said about tho duties of hospitality und the" "Nonsense, now, Norah! What way h) that to Rpoak? Sorry is it? Why, itfs de lighted I am? I wish he could stop a montht only Why, I never met a nicer fellow', novcr. Did you, now?" "Never," says Ncrah, sincerely. "Tisn't that at all but but, Noddle kins," sinking his voico to a whisper, "dtf you think they will hold out?" "What?" startled. "Tho chickens ths mutton? Even if they don't we can get M ' "Oh, bother take the chickens and th mutton," cries the sqeire in a fronzioij tone. "Who's thinking of them? 'Tisn th dinner' that's troubling mo, Duchess 'tit the clothes!" Hero he grows almost npot pletio in his endeavors to' whisper and still give to his words the emphasis they deserve, "Oh, Norah, darling, last night I though j I'd have died in 'em. Specially the coat) I felt bursting!" "That's how you looked, too," says thi Duchess, with deep sympathy. "Why rio leave them off, dad, darling? I'm sure yoa look ever so nice in your Sunday ones. Quito lovely, indeed, when your hair it cut." "Never I" says tho squire, horoioally. 'Tve begun and I'll finish in 'em, though) they be the death of mo. D,'ye think J-NJ let him go back to tho cnstlb, to madam, my own slnter-in-law, and say I dinned h fustian?" "He wouldn't," s.iys Norah, indignantly. "What do yo.i fake him for?" "It might come out all tho como. and then we'd bo disgraced for life. But vhai I was thinking is this," regarding her anx. iously. "If I were to ease tho:n a bit. Eh I To give a littlo snip to the stitching under tho arms, you know. It would bo event relief to me and and he'd noves see it. Eh, now?" "Not for tho world!" declares Norah, vehemently. "Cut one stitch and th whole thing will go. Why, dad, think ot their age! They wore made before I wat lorn. They must be twenty years old at lwit" "Thirty, my love, I think," says the poor squire, with much dejection. It is a great blow to htm that that "snip" hasboc? . forbidden. "And you really think I evuldu't ease them? It's great agony, Norah. '! assurs you, my dear, there was a moment last night wlu-i I felt as if I was going ta sneezo. I'll never forget it. " xo nn CONTINUED.