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/ ■ t ' efh 4 E S? Æ m T' r K « u NxM Volume xx. Helena, Montana, Thursday, April 15, 1886. No. 22 ^'l l rÜ 1 fchlyl(jrral.l. R. E. FISK D. W FISK, A J. FISK, Publishers and Proprietors. Lar?sst Circulation cf any Paper in Montana —-O- Rates of Subscription. WEEKLY HERALD: One Year. (In n(l»ai««*C)..................... *3 00 Mi* Months, (in advance)............................... - 00 Three Months, (in advance)........................... 1 00 When not paid for in advance the rate will l>e Four Dollars per yeaii Postage, in all cases, Prepaid. DAILY HERALD: (It y SiiV)s<Tibers,delivered by carrier,SI 50a month One Year, by mail, (in advance).............812 00 Mi* Months, by mail, (in advance)............... 6 00 Three Months, by mail, (in advance)........... 3 00 •#-AU communications should be addressedto K1MK BROS., Publisher], Helena, Montana. MV LADY'S MONEY Ey WILKIE COLLINS. 4N tPISMiiK I \ THE LIKE OF A V"l'N'(i GIRL IMKT Til K SKCOXD THE DIS C O V E R r CHAPTER IXI.— CONCLU DEI).] I hud hoped (for reasons which it is tioed lev, t<> mention here) to interest, Mr. Hardy man himself in aiding our inquiry. But vnur aunt's wishes, as expressed in her letter to me. close my lips. 1 will only ask you, at some convenient time, to let me mention the lust discoveries that we have made, leaving it to your discretion, when Mr. Hardyman has become your husband, to ask him the questions which, under other circumstances, i should have put to him myself. "It is, of course, possible t liât the view I take of Mr. Hanlyniau's capacity to help us mac be a mistaken one. In this case, if you still wish the investigation to be privately carried on. I lieg of you to let me continue to direct )t. us the greatest favor you can , on j iui dev oted old l net id. "You need b* under no apprehension about the expense to which you are likely to put me. I have unexpectedly inherited what is to me a handsome fortune. »•The same post which brought your aunt's letter brought a line from a lawyer, asking me to see him on the subject of my late lather's affairs. 1 waited a day or two be loie J ■ .nId summon heart enough to see him. or to see an vbody, and then 1 went to lib office. You have heard that my father's bank stopped payment, at a time of com-, mereial panic. His failure was mainly at tributed to the treachery of a friend to whom he had lent a large sum of money, and who paid him the yearly interest without ac knowledging that every farthing of it had been lost iti unsuccessful speculations. The sou of this man has prospered in business, aud he has honorably devoted a part of his wealth to the payment of his father's credit ors. Half the sum due my father has thus passed into my hands a> his next of kin, and the other half to follow in course of time. If my hopes hail lieeu fulfilled, how gladly I should have shared my prosperity with you! As it is, 1 have far more than enough for iny wants a> a lonely man, and plenty left to spend in your service. "God bless aud prosjier von. my dear. I shall ask you to accept a little present from me, among the other offerings that are made to you before the wedding day. "R. M." The studiouslv considerate and delicate tone :n which these lines were written bad au effect on Isabel which was exactly the opposite of the effect intended by the writer. She burst into a passionate tit of tears, and in the safe solitude of her ù*u room the despair* i:ig words escaped lier. "1 w i~.li 1 had died before 1 met with Alfred Hardyman!" As the days wore on. disappointments and difficulties seemed, by a kind of fatality, ts beset the contemplated announcement of th-j marriage. - Miss Tim: s asthma, davelapvl by the un- ; favorable weather, set the doctor's art at defiance, and threatened to keep that un fortunate lad\ a prisoner iu her room on the day of th • party. Hurdyman's invita tions were iu some cases refused, aud in others accepted by husbands, with excuses for the absence of their wives. His elder brother made an ajtology for himself as well as for his wife. Felix Sweetsir wrote. "With pleasure, dear Alfred, if my health permits me to leave the house." Lady Lydianl, invited at Miss Pink's special re quest. sent no reply. The one encouraging circumstance was the silence of Lady Kotherfield. So long as her son received no intimation to the contrary, it was a sign that Lord Kotherfield permitted liis w ife to sanction the marriage by her presence. Hardyman wrote to Ins imperial corre spondent. engaging to leave England on the earliest possible da v, and asking to !>e par doned if lie failed to express himself more definitely, in consideration of domestic af fairs which it was necessary to settle before he started for the continent. If there should not lie time enough to write again, lie prom ised to send a telegraphic announcement of his departure. Long afterward Hardyman rememU red the misgivings that had troubled him when he wrote that letter. In the rough draft of it he had mentioned, as his excuse for not being yet certain of his own move ments. that he expected to l»e immediately married. In the fair copy the \ ague fore boding of some accident to come was so I sinfully present to his mind that he struck out the words which referred to his mar riage and substituted the designedly iu definite phrase, "domestic affairs." CHAPTER XX. W«* day of the garden party arrived. | There w as no rain, but the air was heavy, ) and the sky was overcast by lowering clouds. Some hours before the guests were ex])ecfed Dnliel arrived alone at the farm, 1 «earing the apologies of unfortunate Miss Pink, still kept a prisoner in her bedchamber by the asthma. In the confusion produced at the cottage by the preparations for entertaining tlie company, the one room in which Hardy man could receive Isaliel, w ith the certainty of not l»eiug interrupted, was the smoking room. To this haven of refuge he 1«*<1 her— still reserved and silent, still not restored to her customary spirits. "If any visitors come before tin* time," Hardyman said to his servant, "tell them I am engaged at the stables—I must have an hour's quiet talk with you," he continued, turning to lsa'uel, "or 1 shall l»* in too bad a temper to receive my guests with common jioliteueas. • The worry of giviug this party is not to be told in words. 1 almost .sb 1 had lieen content with presenting you to mv mother, and hail let the rest of my acquaintance go to the devil." A quiet half hour passed, and the first vis- ' itor, a stranger to the servants, apjieared at the cottage gate. He was a middle-aged \ man. and he had no wish to disturb Mr. « Hardyman. ''I will wait in the grounds,' ; he said, "and trouble nobody." The middle- I aged man who expressed himself in these , in« «lest terms was Kotiert Moody. Five minutes later a carriage drove up tc the gate. An elderly lady got out of it, fol lowed by a fat white Scotch terrier that ; | ) ' \ « ; I , growled at ever}* stranger within his reach. It is needless to introduce Lady Lydiard aud Tommie. Informed that Mr. Hardyman was at the stables, Lady Lydiard gave the servant her card. "Take that to your master, and say 1 won't detain him five minutes." With then? words her ladyship sauntered into th? grounds. She looked about her with observ ant eyes, not only noticing the tent which liaii been set up on the grass to accommodât? the expected guests, but entering it and look ing at tiie waiters who were engaged ir placing the luncheon on the table. Return ing to the outer world she next remarked that Mr. Hanlyman's lawn was in very bad order. Barren, sun-dried patches, and little holes and crevices opened here and there by the action of the su 'inner heat, announced that tlie lawn, like everything else at tht farm, had been neglected in the exclusive at tention ]>aid to the claims of the horses. Reaching a shrubbery which bounded one side of the grounds next her ladyship became aware of a man slowlj approaching her. tc all appearance absorl>ed in thought. The man drew a little nearer. She lifted her glasses to her eyes and recognized—Moody. Xo embarrassment was produced oil either side bv this unexpected meeting. Lady Lydiard had, not long since, sent to ask her former steward to visit her, regretting in her warm hearted way the terms on which they had separated, and wishing to atone for the harsh language that had escaped her at their parting interview. In the friendly talk which followed tlie reconciliation Lady Lydiard not only heard the news of Moody's pecuniary inheritance, but. noticing the change in his apjiearance for the worse, con trive«) to extract from him the confession of his ill-starred jiassion for Isaliel. To discover him now, after all that he had acknow ledged, walking about the grounds at Hardyman's farm, took her ladyship completely by sur prise. "Good heavens!" she exclaimed, iu her loudest tones, "what are you doing lie re ( "You mentioned Mr. Hardeman's garden party, my la«ly, when I had tlie honor of waiting on you," Moody answered. "Think ing over it afterwards, it seemed the fittest occasion 1 could find for making a little wedding present to Miss Isaliel. Is there any harm iu my asking Mr. Hardyman to let me put the present on her plate, so that she may see it when she sits down to luncheon? If your ladyship thinks so I will go away directly, and send the gift by post." Lady Lydiard looked at him attentively. "You don't despise the girl," she asked, "for selling herself for rank and money? 1 do, I can tell you." Moody's worn white face flushed a little. "No, my laily," he answered, "I can't hear you say that. Label would not have engaged herself to Mr. Hardyman unless she had been fond of him—as fond. 1 dare say. as l once hojied she might be of me. It's a hard thing to confess that; but I «lo «-«infcss it , iu justice to her—God bless her!" The generosity that spoke in those simple words touched tlie finest sympathies in Lady Lydianl ' nature. "Give me your hand." she sai«l. w ith her own generous spirit kindling in her eyes. "You have a great heart, Moody. Label Miller is a fool for not marrying you —and one day she w ill know it " Before a word more could pass between them, Hardyman's voice was audible on the other side of the shrubbery, calling irritably to his servant to find Lady Lydiard. Moody retired to the fart lier end of the walk, while Lady Lydiard advanced in the opposite direction, so as to meet Hardyman at the entrance to the shrubbery. He bowed stiffly', ntul begged to know whV her ladyship had honored him with a visit. Lady Lydiard replied, without noticing the coldness of her reception : "1 have not been very well, Mr. Hardy man, or y r ou would have seen me before this. My only object in presenting myself here it to make my excuses personally for having written of you in terms which expressed a doubt of your honor. I have done you ur. injustice, and I beg you to forgive me." Hardyman acknowledged this frank aj »logy as unreservedly as it had been offered to him. "Say no more, Lady I.ydiard. Vnd let me hope, now you art here, that you will honor my little party with your presence." Lady Lydiard gravely stated her reason« for not accepting the invitation. "1 disapprove so strongly of unequal mar riages," sue said, walking on slowly toward the cottage, "that 1 cannot, in common con sistency, become one of your guests. I shall always feel interested in Isabel Miller's wel fare; and I can honestly say I shall be glad if your married life proves that my old fashioned prejudices are without justifica tion in your cases. Accept my thanks for your invitation, and let me hope that my plain speaking has not offended you." She bowed and l«x>ke«l about her for Tom mie before she advanced to the carriage waiting for her at the gate. In the surprise of seeing Moody she ha«l forgotten to look back for the dog when she entere« 1 the shrubbery. She uow called to him. and blew the whistle at her watch chain. Not a sign «:>f Tommie was to be seen. Hardyman in stantly directed tlie servants to search in the cottage and out of the cottage for the dog. Theorder was obeyed with all needful ac tivity and intelligence, and entirely without success. For the time being, at any rate, Tommie was lost. Hardyman promised to have the dog looketl for in every part of the farm, and to send him hack in the care of one of his own men. With these jiolite assurances Lady Lydiard was obliged to l»e satisfied. She drove away in a very* despondent frame of mind. "First Isaliel and now Tommie," thought her lady Bhip. "I am losing the only companions who made life tolerable to me." Returning from the garden gats, after tak ing leave of his visitor, Hardyman received from his servant a handful of letters which had just arrived for him. Walking slowly over the lawn as he ojiened them, he found nothing but excuses for the alisenee of guests who had already accepted his invitations. He had just thrust the letters into bis pocket when he heard footsteps l*ehin«l him, and, looking round, found himself confronted by Moody. "Halloo! have you come here to lunch?" Hardyman asked, roughly. "1 have come here, sir. with a little gift for Miss Isabel, iu honor of her marriage," Moody answered, quietly. "And I ask your permission to put it on the table, so that she may see it when your guests sit down to luncheon.' He opened a jeweler's case as he spike, con taining a plain gold bracelet with an inscrip tion engraved on the inner side: "To Miss Isabel Miller, with the sin«*ere good wishes of Robert Moody." Plain as it was, the design of the bracelet was unusually beautiful. Hardyman had noticed M «sly's agitation on the «lay when he hail met isaliel near her aunt's house, and had drawn his own conclusions from it. His face darkened with a momentary jealousy as he 1« Hiked at the bracelet. "All right, old fell«>w!" he said, with contemptuous famil iarity. "Don't be molest. Wait anil give it tp.lt*r VL'itb.Your owaJiand." | I j [ j I ' j | ' | J J J j j j j Hardyman understood the delicacy of I feeling which dictated those words, and, without well knowing why, resented ft He was on the point of speaking, under the in fluence of this unworthy feeling, when Isabel's voice reached his ears, calling to him from the cottage. Moody's face contracted with a sudden ex pression of pain as he, too, recognized the voice. "Don't let me detain y«ju, sir," he said, sadly. "Good morning!" Hardyman left him without ceremony. Moody, slowly following, entered the tent. All the preparations for the luncheon had been completed; nobcxlv was there. The places to lie occupied by the guests were in dicat'd by cards bearing their names. Moodv fourni Isaliel's card, and put his bracelet inside the bilde« i napkin on her plate. For awhile he stood with his hand on the table, thinking. The temptation to communicate once more with IsaDel before he lost her forever was fast getting the let ter of his powers of resistance. "If I could persuade her to write a word to say she liked her bracelet." he thought, "it would lie a comfort when I go back to my solitarv life." He tore a leaf out of his pocketbook and yvrote on it: "One line to say you ac cept my gift and my good wishes. * Put it under the cushion of your chair and I shall find it when the company have left the tent." He slipped the paper into the case which held tlie bracelet, and instead of leaving the farm as lie had intended, turned back to the shelter of the shrubbery. -=2ï§/ X CHAPTER XXL Hardyman went on to the cottage. He found Isabel in some agitation. Aud there by her side with his tail w agging slow ly aud his eye on Hardyman in expectation of a possible kick—there was the lost Tommie! "Has Lady Lydianl gone?" Isabel a-ked, eagerly. "Yes." said Hardyman. "Where <li«l you find the dog?" As events had onlered it, the dog ha«l found Isabel—under these circumstances: The appearance of Lady Lydiard's card in the smoking room hail been an alarming event for Lady Lydiard's adopted daughter. She was guiltily conscious of not having an swered her ladyship s note, inclosed in Miss Pink's letter, and of not having taken her ladyship's advice in resisting the advances ol Hardyman. As he rose to leave the room and receive liis visitor in the grounds, Isabel entreated him to say nothing <>f her presence at the farm, unless ],a«ly Lydiard exhibited a forgiving turn of mind by asking *«> see her. Left by herself in the smoking room she sud denly heard a bark in the passage which had a familiar sound in her ears. She opeued the door, aud in rushed Tommie, with one of his shrieks of delight. Curiosity had taken him into the house. He hail heard the voices iu the smoking room, had recognized Isabel's voice, and bad waited, with his customary cunning and his cus tomary distrust of strangers, until Hardy man was out of the wav, Isabel kissed and caressed him, and then drove him out again to the lawn, fearing that Lady Lydiard might return to look for him. Going back to tlu* smoking room, -he stool at the win dow watching t o: I lardy man's return. When the servants came iu to look for the dog, she could only tell them that she had last seen him iu the grounds, not far from the cottage. The useless search being aban doned. aud the carriage having left the gate, w ho should crawl o.it from the back of a cupboard iu which some empty hampers were placed but Tommie himself! How he had contrived to get back to the smoking room (unless she ha«l omitted to completely close the door on her returu) it was impos sible to sa}'. But there he was. determined this time to stay with Isabel, and keeping iu his hiding place until he heard the move ment of the carriage wheels, which informed him that his lawful mistress had left the cottage. Isabel had at once called to Hardy man, on the chance that the carriage might yet be stepped. It w;is already out of sight, and nobody knew which of two roads it had taken, both leading to London. In this emergency Isabel could only look at Hardy man, aud ask w hat was to be done. "1 can't spare a servant till after the party," he answered. "The dog must be tied up at the stables." Isabel shook her head. Tommie was not accustomed to be tied up. He would make a disturbance, aud he would be lieaten by the grooms. "I will take care of him," she said. "He won't leave me." "X am to blame for w hat .nas uappenea. Isabel answered sadly. "I am estranging you from your friends. There is still time, Alfred, to alter your mind aud let me go." He put his arm round her with rough fondness. "1 would sacrifice every friend I have iu the world rather than lose you. Come along!" They left the cottage. At the entrance to the tent Hardyman noticed the dog at Isabel's heels, anil vented his ill temper, as usual with male humanity, on the nearest un offending creature that he coulii find. "Be off, you mongrel brute!" he sh<>ute«l. Tlie tail of Tommie relaxed from its customary tight curve over the small of his back, and the legs of Tommie (with his tail between them) took him at full gallop to the friendly shelter of the cupboard in the smoking room. It was one of those trifling circumstances which women notice seriously. Isaliel said nothing: she only thought to herself, "I wish lie hail shown his temper when I first knew him." They entered the tent "I'll read the names," said Hardyman, "and you find the rai ds and tear them up* Stopf I'll keep the cards. You're just the sort of woman my father likes. He'll be rec onciled to me when he sees you. after we are married. If one of those men ever asks him fur a plai-e. I'll take care, if it's years lienee, to put an oiistacle in his way. Her**, take my pencil, ami make a mark on the eanls to remind me; the same mark I set against a horse in my book when I don't like him—a cross inclosed in a circle." Ke pro duced his pocketbook. His hands trembled with an ger as lie gave the pencil to Isabel and laid tlie l«ook on the table. He had Just read the name of the first false friend, and Isabel had just found the card,when a servant appeared with a message. "Mrs. Drum blade has arrived, sir. and wishes to see you on a matter of the greatest Importance." Hardyman left the tent not very willingly. "Walt here," he said to Isaliel; "I'll be back directly," She was standing near her own plais* at the table. Moody had left one end of the jeweler's ease visible alsive the napkJu, to attract her attention. In a minute more the bracelet and the note were In her hands, She dropped on her chair, overwhelmed by The bracelet and the not § uere in her hands. the conflicting emotions that rose '*i her at the sight of the bracelet, at the reailing of the note. Her head drooped, ami fhe tears filled her eyes. "Are all wo men as blind as I have lieen to w hat is good and noble in tlie men who love them?" she wondered, sailly. "better as it Is." she thought, vvitli a bittet sigh: "I am not worthy of him." As she t«««k up the pencil to write her answer to Moody on the back of her dinner card, the servant appeared again at the door of the tent. "My master wants you at the cottage, mlm, Imme diately." Isaliel rose, putting the bracelet and the note in the silver-mounted leather poc ketbook (a present from Hardymani which hung at her belt. In the hurry ol passing round the table Pi get out, she never noticed that her dress touched Hardyman's pocketbook, placed closed to the edge, and thruw It down on the grass below. The book fell Into one of the heat cracks which I .ad y I.ydiard had noticed as evidence of the neglected condition of the cottage lawn. "You ought to hear the pleasant news my sister has Just hmitght me," said Hârdynian, when Isabel joined him iu the parlor. "Mrs. Druinblade has lieen told, on the liest authority, that my mother is not coming to the party." "There must he some reason of course, dear Isaliel," a«Ideil Mrs. Drunililadc. "Have you any Idea of wliat it can lie? 1 haven't seen my mutiler myself, and all my inquiries have failed to find it out." She looked searehiugly at Isabel as she spoke. Th? mask of symtpathv on her face was admirably worn. Nobody w ho poases.-ed only a superficial acquaint ancewith Mrs. Dninililade's character would hav? suspected how thoroughly she was enjoying in socret the position of embarrassment in whieli her news had placed her brother. Instinctively doubting whether Mrs. Prunibiaile's friendly behavior was quite so sincere as it appeared to lie. Isaliel answered that she was a stranger to I July Kotherfield, and was therefore quite at a loss to explain the cause of her ladyship's absence. As she spoke, the guests began to arrive ln quiek succession, ami the subject was dropped, as n matter « if course. it was not a merry party. Ilardymnn's approach Ing marriage had l«*cn made the topic of much mali clous gossip, and Isabel's character bad, as usual In such cases, become the object of all the false reports that scandal could invent. I.a<ly Itothertleld's ab settee confirmed the general. conviction that Hardy man was disgracing himself. The men were all more or less uneasy. The women resented the discovery that Isaliel was. personally speaking at least, lieyond the reach of hostile criticism. Her beauty was viewed as a downright, offense; her refined and modest man ners were set down as Iierfect acting—"Really «lis gusting. hi} dear. In so young a girl." Hen. Drum blaile—a large ami moldy veteran, ill a state ot chronic astonishment (after his own matrimonial ex perienee) at Hanlyniau's folly in marrying at all— diffuseil a w ide circle of gliHini wherever he went and whateti-r he did. Ills accomplished w ife, forcing |i< r high spirits on everyliod.v 's attention with a sort of kitti-nisli playfulness, intensified tlie depressing effect of the getVral dullness by all the force of the stmugest iunrrast. After waiting half an hour for his mother, an«l waiting lit vain, Hanliiuan led the way to the tent In despair. " The sooner I fill their stomachs an«l get rid <>f them," h« thought, savagely, "the better I shall be pleased." The luuekeon was attacked by the eomptiny with a certain silent ferocity, which fhe waiters noticed as remarkable, even in their large e*|iertenee. The men drank deeply, but with wonderfully little effe«-t in raising their spirits: the women, with the excep tion of amiable Mrs. Druiublaile. kept Isaliel deliber ately out of the conversation that went on among them. (ten. Druinblade, sitting next to tier in one of tlie places of honor, discoursed to Isaliel firi vately on "my brother in law Hardeman's infernal temper." A young marquis, on h«*r otln-r side—a mere la«l, chosen to make tin* necessary s|«eccli In a«-kn«iwle<lg ment of his superior rank rose, In a state of nervous trepidation, to propose Isabel*« health as the ehossn bride of their host. Kale ami trembling, conscious of having forgotten the words w hich he had learned Is* forehand, this unhappy young nobleman began: "Ladies and gentlemen, I haven't an idea—" He stopped, put his hand to Ills head, star*-«l wildly, ami sat down (gain, having contrived to state liis own case with masterly brevity ami perfect truth in a speech of seven words. While the dismay in some cases ami the amuse ment in otlu-rs was still at its height, Hardyinan's valet made his nppearan« - e.and approaching Ids mas ter. said, in a w hisper: "Could 1 speak to you, sir, for a moment outside?" "What the devil do you want?" Hardyman asked. Irritably. "Is that a letter lu your hand? Hive it to me." The valet was a Frenchman. In other words, he hail a s«-nsc of what was due to himself. His master had forgotten this. He gave up tin* lett«*r with a certain dignity of manner, and left the tent. Hardy man opened the letter. He turned pale us he read it, crumpled it in his hand, and threw it down on the table "By G — «1. it's a lie!" he exclaimed, furiously. Tlie guests rose in confusion. Mrs. Druinblade, finding the letter within her reach, coolly possessed herself of it. recognized her .mother's handw riting, and read these lines: "I have only now succeeded in persuading tout father to let me write to you. For (.«si's sake break off your marriage at any sacrifice Your father has heard, on unanswerable authority, that Miss lsatx-1 Miller left her situation in Lady Lydiard's house on suspicion of theft." While bis sister was reailing this letter. Hardyman hail iiiail«* liis way to Isalud's chair. "I must speak to you directly," he whispered. "Conn* away with me." He turned as lie t««>k h«-r arm, and looked at the table. "Where is my letter?" he asked. Mrs. Drum blaile handed it to him dextrously crumpled up again as she luvl found it. "No bad news, dear Alfred, I hope?" she said, in her most affectionate manner. Hardyman snatched the letter from lu-r. without answering, aud led Isaliel out of the tent. "Read that." he said. wh«*n they were alone "and tell me at once whether it's true or false." Isabel read the letter. Fora moment the shock ol the discovery held ln-r ..peechlesa she recovered herself, anil returned the letter. "It is true," she answered. Hardyman staggered back as If she had shot him. •True that you dre guilty ?" lie asked. "No; I am innocent. Everybody who knows me be lieves in my Innocence. It is true that the appear ances were against me. They are against me attlL" Having said this, she waited, quietly and flrmjy, foi bis next words. He passed his hand over ills forehead with a algh ol relief. "It's bad enough as It Is," he said, speaklna quietly on his side. "But the remedy for It Is plain enough. Come buck to the tent." She never moved. "Why?" she asked. "Do you suppose l don't believe in your innocence, t*x>?" he answered. "The one way of setting you right now is for me to make you my wife, iu spite ol the appearances that point to you. I'm too fond ol you, Isaliel. to give you up. Come hack with me,aud I will announce our marriage to my friends." She took his hand and kissed it. "It is generoui and good of you," she said; "but it must not lie." He took a step nearer to her. "What do you mean?" he asked. "It was against my will." she pursued, "that mj aunt concealed the truth from you. I did wroug tc consent to it; I will do wrong no more. Your mothei Is right. Alfred. After what has happened, I am uol fit to lie your w ife uutil my innocence is proved. 11 Is not proved yet." The angry color liegan to rise in his face once more 'Take care." he said: "I am not in a humor to b* trifled with." "1 am not triding w ith you," she answered, in low sail tones. "You really mean what you say?" "I mean It." "Don't be obstinate, Isabel. Take time to con sider." "You are very kind. Alfred. My duty is plain tt me. 1 will marry you—if you still wish it—wheu iny good name Is restored to me—not before." He laid one hand on her arm. and pointed with th* other to the guests in the distance, all leaving tht tent on tiieir way to their carriages. "Your good name will be restored to you." he said "on the day when I make you my wife. The worst enemy you have cannot associate my name with a suspicion of theft. Remember that, aud think a little before you decide. Von see those people there If you don't change your miiffl by the time they hav* got to the cottage, it's good by between us and good by forever. I refuse to wait for you: I refuse tc accept a conditional engagement. Wait, and think. They're walking slowly; you have got some minute« more." He still held her arm, watching the guests as they gradually receded from view, it w as not until they had all collected in a group outside the cottage dom that he spoke himself, or that he permitted Isaliel u speak again. "Now." he said, "you have had your time to get cool. Will you take my arm and join those people with me. or will you sa v good-by forever?" "Forgive me. Alfred," she begun gently. "I cannot consent, in justice to you, to shelter myself behind your name. It is the name of your family, and they have a right to ex|icoi that you will not degrade it." "I want a plain answer." he interposed sternly "Which is it? Yes <,r no?" She looked at him with sad. compassionate eyes Her voice was firm as she answered him In tile ont word that he desired. The word was—"No!" Without speaking to her. without even looking at her, lie turned an« 1 walked back to the cottage. .Making his way silently through the group of vl* ltors—every on»* of whom had been informed ol what had happened by liis sister—w ith hi- head down and his lips fast closed, he entered the ixirlor and rang the liell which communicated with his foreman's ri mins at the Stahles. '•You know that I am going abroad on business?" h* said, when the man appeared. "Y es, sir." . "I am going to-day—goin*g by the night train to Dover, order the horse to la* put to instautly in tht dog cart. Is then- anything wanted liefore I am off?* A Knock at the door startled him In the middle ol his work. "Come in:" he called out, sharply. He l<M>ked up, expecting to see one of tile guests Ol one of tiie servants. It was Moody who entered th* room. Hardyman laid «town liis pen and tixisi hit eyes sternly on the man who hail dared to interrupt him. "Wliat the devil do you want?" he asked. "I have seen .Miss Isaliel. and spoken with her.* M«xxl>' replied. "Mr. Hardy man, I believe it is in your power to set this matter right. Fertile young lady's sake, sir, you must not leave England without doing it." Hardyman turned to his foreman. "Is this fellow mad or druiik ?" lie asked. Moody proceetled as catmly and as resolutely as ii those words had not been spoken. "1 apologize foi my intrusion, sir. I will trouble you with no ex planatious; I will only ask one question. Have you a memorandum of the number of that £500 not* which you paid away in France?" Hardyman lost all control over himself. "You scoundrel!" he cried, "have you been pr.vtnn Into my private affairs? Is it your business t«i know what I did in France?" "Is it your vengeance on a woman '<» refuse tc tell her the number of a bank note?" Moody re joined, firmly. That answer forced Its way through Hanlymau'» anger to Hardvnian's scr.se of honor. He rose and advanced to Moody. For a moment tlie two met faced each other in silence. "You're a ImiIiI fellow,' said Hardyman, with a sudden change from anger tc irony. I'll do the lady Justice. I'll look at my pocket book." He put Ills hand into the breast pocket of Ids coat be searched Ids other |«n-k«-ts; he turned over the ob jects on his writing table. The hook was gone. Moody watched him with a feeling of despair. "Oh Mr. Hardyman, don't say you have lost your pocket tXHlk!" He sat down again at his desk, with sullen submis sionto the new disaster. "AJ11 can say is, you're at lilierty to look for It," he replied. T must hav* dropped it somewhere." He turned impatiently tc the foreman: "Now, then, what is the next check wanted? I shall go mad if 1 wait iu this damned place much longer." Moody left him. and found hi« way to the servants offices. "Mr. Hardyman has lost his ixieketboolc," lu said. "Look for it, indoors and out. on the lawn anc in the tent. Ten pounds reward for the man win finds it." Servants and waiters instantly dispersed, eager foi the promised reward. The men who pursued th* search outside thecottafe* divide«! their forces. Somt of them examineil the lawn and the flower beds others went straight to the empty tent. These last were too completely absorbed in pursuing the object iu view to notice that they disturbed a dog eating * stolen lunch of his own from the morsels left.on tin plates. The dog slunk away under the canvas whet the men came ill. waited in hiding until they Ina gone, then returned to the tent au«l went on with his luncheon. Moody hastened hack to the part of the ground) (close to the shrubbery) iu which Isabel-was waiting his return. She looketl at him. while he was telling her of hit Interview with Hardyman. with an expression in liei eyes which he had never seen fn them before—an ex pression which set liis heart beating wildly, ami maile him break off iu his nun^ttive before he haC reu« -lied the etui. "I understand," she said, quietly, as lie stopped ii confusion, "you have made one more sacrifice to mj welfare. Robert, I believe you are the noblest mat that ever breathed the breath of life!" His eyes sank liefore hers; lie blushed like ahoy. "I have done nothing for you yet," he said. "Don't despairof the future if the pocketlxmk should not lit found. 1 know who tin* man Is who received Hit Lank note, ami I have only to find him to «lei'hle th» question whether it is th«* stolen mite or uot." M»~inile«l at his enthusiasm. **.%• you going back to Mr. Sharon to help you?'' she asked. ''That trick he played me lias destroyed mv belief in him. He uo more knows than 1 do win tin* thief really is." "You are nilstaki-n, Isaliel. He know s, and I know." Hi* st«i|>|>e«l there, ami made a sign to lier t«i lx- silent On«- of tin servants w;,.s appruwriilng th«*m. "is tlie i«H'i;ctl«««k found?" Moody askeil. "No, sir." "Has Mr. Hardyman left the cottage?" "He has ju-t gone. >.r. Have you any further in ■structions to give us?" "No. There is my ad«iress iu Igindon If th«* pocket book should lie found." The man took the card that was hainled to him and retired. M«*sly offered his arm to Isals l. "I am at your servh-e," Iu said, "wheu you wish to return to your aunt." They had advanced nearly as far as the rent, on their way out of the grounds, w hi n they were met by a gentleman walking toward them from the cot tage. He was a stranger to Isaliel. Moody inline diatelv recognized him as Mr. Felix Sweetsir. "Hu! our g«Hxl Moody!" cried Felix. "Enviable man! you look younger than yver!" He t«s«k off hi* hat to Isaliel; his bright. restl«-ss eyes suddenly be came quiet as they rested on her. "Have I Hie lionoi of adtiresslng the future Mrs. Hardyman? May 1 offer my best congratulations? What has become Ol our friend Alfred?" Moody answered for Isabel. "If you will make in quirh-s at the cottage, sir," he saiil, "you will find that you are mistaken, to say the least of it, iu a«l dressing your «(uestions to this young lady." Felix toot, oft his hat again with the uiust becoming appearan« « of surprise ami distress. •Something wrong, I fear," he said. ad«lreusing Isaliel. "l «iu, indeed, ashamed if I have ignorantly given you a moment's pain. Pray accept my most sincere apologies. I have only,tills instant arrived, my health would not allow me to be present at the luncheon. Permit me to express the -earnest hope that matters may Is* set right, to the satisfaction ol all parties. (;«.hx 1 afternoon." He bowed with elaborate courtesy, and turned lmck to the «-ottage. "Who is that ?" isaliel asked. "I-ady Lydiard's nephew, Mr. Felix Sweetsir," MihkIv answered, with a sudden sternness of tone and a sudden cOducss of manner w hich surprised IsabeL "You don't like him." she said. As she spoke, Felix stoppeil to give atnlience to one of tlie griKiuis, who had. apparently, t«*en sent with a message to him. He turned so that his face wa* ouee more visible to Isaliel. Moody pressed her hand significantly as it rested on his arm. "Look well at that man," he whispered. "It's time to w arn you. Mr. Felix Sweetsir is the worst enemy you have!" , Isabel heard him in speechless astonishment. Ht went on in tones that trembled with suppresses emotion. "You doubt if bharon knows the thief. Yen do tf I know the thief. Isabel, as certainly as the heaven lx alx>ve us. there stamis the wretch w ho stole the bank note!" ■.r' IÜ 7 ) 9U » Vs 1 N '''There stands the ivretch who stole the bant: note." ,|r.-w her hand out of his arm with a cry of ter rer. 'In- liMikcd at him as ir 'he doubted whether hs »•a* i:i liis right mind. He t«x>k her hand, aud waited a moment, trying to compose himself. "Listen to me," he said. "At the first consultation I hail with Sharon he gave this advice to Mr. Troy anil me. He said: *Suspe«-t thevery last person on whom suspicion could possibly fall.' Those words, taken with the questions lie had asked liefore he pnmouiK'ed his opinion, struck through me as if lie ha«l stnn-k me with a knife. I instantly suspected Lady Lydiard'* nephew. Wait! From that time to this I have said nothing of my suspicion t«> any living soul. I knew in uiy heart that it t««>k its rise in the Inveterate dislike that I have always felt for Mr. Sweetsir. and I distrusted it accordingly. But 1 went liack tosliaron. for all that, and put the case Into his hands. Hts in vestigations informed me that Mr. Sweetsir owed 'debts «if honor' <as gentlemen call«*«l them), incurred through lost bets, to a large number of persons, and among them a bet of £5i»« lost to Mr. Hardy man. Furt ln-r inquiries showed that Mr. Hardyman had taken the lcail in do-laring that he would post Mr. Sweetsir as a defaulter, aud have him turned out of his clubs and turned out of the betting ring. Ruin stared him iu the face if he failed m pay his délit to Mr. Hardyman «>n the last day left to him—the day after the note wax lost. Un that very morning Lady Lydiard, speaking to me of '*■* * , "-*' l «oven him - an opportunity of speaking, Felix wtvil t have l>or row e«l money of me: 1 saw it inhisfaee.' Cue moment more. Isuliel. I am not only certain that Mr. Sweetsir t««>k the five hundred ponuil note out «if the open letter: I am firmly persuaded tiiat he is the man who told Lord Rotherfiehl of the cireuuistan«*es under which you left ianly Lydiard's house. Your marriage to Mr. Hardy man might have put you in a position to detect the theft. You, not I, might in that cas*- have discovered from your husband that the stolen note was the one with which Mr. Sweetsir paid his «lebt. He came here, you uiay depend oil it. to make sure that he luul succeede«l in destroying your prospects. A more depraved villain at heart than that man never swung from a gallows!" He checked himself at those words. The shock of tlie «lisclis-ure, tlie passion and vehemence with w hich he spoke, overwhelmed Isabel, she trembled like a frightened child. While he was still trying to so*:?he and reassure her a low whining made itself lieanl at their feet. They looked down and saw Tommie. Fimling him self noticed at last, he expressed Ills sense of relief by a bark. Something dropped out «if his month. As Mooily st<x>pe<l to pi«-k it up, tin* «log rail t«i Isaliel and pushed liis head against her feet, as liis way was when he expected to have the handkerchief thrown over him preparatory to one of those ga uies at lihle and-seek which have been already mentioned. Isabel put out her liaml to caress him, when she was stoppeil by a cry from Moody. It was liis turn to tremble now. His voice faltere*! us lie said the words: "Tlie dog has found the |x«-ketl«*>k!" He opencil the Ixxik with shaking hands. A liettiug book was bound up in it with the customary ealen tlar. He turned to the date of the day after I in* rob bery. "There was the entry: "Felix Sweetsir. Paid C.'iUU. Note numbered N s, ïu,.ï64; date«! 15th May, is;:,." Moody took from Ills waistcoat |«x-ket Ills own memorandum of the number of the lost bunk note. "Read it, Isaliel," he sait!. "1 won't trust iny un-in ory." She rea«l it. The number an«l date of die note en tered in the |HM-ketlx«»k exactly corresponded with the number aud date of the ante that I zu I y Lydiard hu«l placctl in lier letter. Moody hanileil the p*«ekethook to Isutx-1. "There is the pr«*>f of your innocence," he said, "thanks to the «log. Will you write ami tell Mr. Hanlymau what has happenetl?" lie asked, with his head down aud his eyes on the grouinl. sh«'* answered him, with the bright color suddenly flowing over lier face: "You shall w rite to him," sh«* said, "when tlie time eûmes. '' What time?" he askeil. sh* fill»'' iv h* er arms munil liis neck ami hi«! her face« >11 liis U»N* •in. "The time,' " «le* whiiqx-rta 1, "wheu 1 am your > »vif#* A !< »w >\vl finm T« mi in »«* i reiiiinili-d them i that lie too hail s*mie «-laiui to be noticed. lsal« l dropp'd on her knees and saluted ln*r <>l«l playfellow with the heartiest kisses she iia«l ever given him «im-c u,e day when tlu-ir a«s|uaiutaiu*e began. ' ) ou «lai ling!" she saiil, as slie put him down again, "wliat can I do to reward vim:" Tommie rolled over till liis liack—more s|o« lv than usual. Ill consequeni-e of liis luncheon in tile tent. He elevate«! liis four paws iu theairuud lexiked lazily at I-aliel out "f liisbright brown eyes. If evera «log's lisik s|M»k>- jet. Tommie's l««ik said, "I have eaten too much, rub mj stomach." POSTSCRIPT. Persons of a speculative turn of mind are informed (hat the following document is for sal«*, and are re quested to mention «liât sum tliej- will give for it: "i O U, i-ady i.ydiard, five hiiiidre«! pounds(£50U.) "Feux sweetsir." Her ladyship became possesse«l of this pecuniary remittance under circumstances that surround it with a halo of romantic interest. It was the last couiinunii'atfou -he was destine«! to receive from her accomplished nephew: ami there was u note attached to it, which cannot fail to enhance its value in tlie estimation of all rigid minded persons who assist the circulation of pa[«er money. The lines tiiat Pillow are strictly confidential: Note.— Our excellent Mo«xiy informs me, my dear aunt, tiiat you have decided (against liis advieeion 'refusing to prosecute.' 1 have not tile slightest idea of wliat lie means, but I urn very much obliged to him, nevertheless, for reminding uie of a circum stance v.iii<-li is of some interest to yourself person ally. "1 am « ii the point «if retiring to the continent in sean-lt of health, une generally forgets something inqs.rtant when one starts on a journey. Before Motsly called I had entirely forgotten to mention that I ha«l the pleasure-of borrowing fcvnuof you some little time since. "un the occasion to which I refer, your language ami uianner suggested that you would not leml me tlie money if i aske«i for it. Obviously, the only course left was to take it without asking. I t«xik it while Moody was gone to get me some Curaeoa; ami I returned to the picture gallery in time to receive tiiat delicious li«|ueur from the footman's hands. "You will naturally ask why I fourni it necessary to supply myself «if I may borrow an expression from th«- language of state tinam-e) with this 'forced loam' I w as ai-tiiate<l by motives which I think do me honor. My position at tile time was critical in the extreme. My credit with the money lenders was at au end; my tricmjs had all turned tiieir liai-ksoti me. 1 must either take the money or disgrace uiy family. If there is a man living who Is sincerely at tached to liis family 1 am that m,.u. i took the money. "Conceive your position as my aunt (Isay nothing of myself) if I bail adopted the other alternative. Turne«l out of the .lockey club; turned out of Tatter salls', turned out of the betting ring; ill short, posteil publicly as a «lefaulter before the noblest institution in England -tlie Turf; and all for want of £500 to stop the mouth of the greatest brute 1 know of—Alfred Hardyman! Let me not harrow your feelings «and tniiiei bydwellibgon it. Dearaud ailmlrable wouiau! To you belongs the honor of saving the credit of the family. 1 can claim nothing but the inferior merit of having offered you the opportunity. "My I U U, it is needless to say, accompanies these lines. Can I do anything for you abroad : F. s." To tills it is only necessary to add. first, that Mixxly wag perfectly right in believing F. s. to be the p«-rs»)n who Informed Hardy man's father ot Isabel's position when she left Lady Lydiard's house; aud, sec</n(lly, that Felix di«i really forward Mr. Troy's narrative of the theft to the French police, altering nothing iu it but tlie uuiitlx-r of tlie lost bunk note. What is there left to write alxmt? Nothing is left but to say good-by (very sorrow fully on the writer's part) to tlie jiersons of the story. Uood by to Miss Pink—who will regret to her dying day that Isabel's answer to Hardyman was No. (Bxxly by to Lady Lydiard—who differs with Miss Pink, and would have regretted it to lier dv iug day if the answer had been Yes. Good-by to M«iody and Isabel—whose history has closed with the closing of the clergyman's book on tiieir wedding day. Good-by to Hardyinau—wh o has sold his farm an his horses, aud has begun anew life amoug the famous fast trotters of America Good by to old Sharon—who, a martyr to his prom Ls«, brushed Ids hair and washeti his face in honor of Moody's marriage; aud, catching a severe cold as a necessary con«e«jueiice. declared, in the intervals of sneezing, that lie would "nev er do it again." Atxl last, not least, gixxl-by to Tommie. No. Ths writer guve Tommie ids dinner uot half as hou? •In-e, aud is t«x> tond of him to say good-by. the EX«*. Didn't Like To Ke Laughed At. Over on State street one day last week a man slipped iu the slush and fell sprawling. His bundles went flying through the air and came down iu a state of confusion. The man looked very comical, aud several hundred people stopped to titter. A smile spread over a sea of faces. But the man did not rise. A look of pain came on his face, and he raised his hand as if beseeching aid. A dozen men rushed forward to help him, and the women exclaimed, ''Oh, he is hurt," and looked oceans of sympathy. The man was helped to his feet and his packages collected and carefully placed in his arms, while two or three good Samaritans wiped the slush from his clottyng and nicely smoothed out his ruffled silk hat. Then he staggered away, followed by many anxious eyes. But once around the corner he straightened up, smiled softly to himself and walked away as spry as a spring colt, chuckling to himself: "I always did hate to be laughed at."— Chicago Herald. Importation of a Flawless Wood. Several million pounds of the dark, hard, flawless wood called cocobola are imported from South America annually into New York. It conies not in logs or planks, but in great chunks, and is used for knife handles, flutes, and similar pur poses. Formerly it was worth 5 cents a pound, but now only half as much.—Ex change. "Here, Johnnie, what do you mem by taking Willie s cake away from him? Didn't you have a piece for yourself (" "Yes, but you told me I always ought to take my little brother'* part."—Palmer Journal PROMINENT EVANGELISTS ARE WE ENTERING ON A PERIOD OF RELIGIOUS REVIVAL? Portraits of Well Known Revivalists In Several Denominations Who Have Given Tiieir Lives to This Branch of Church Work. [Special Correspondence.] New York, March 1C. —The almost phe nomenal success of the Revs. Sam Jones and Sam Small in bringing crowds to their re vival meetings in the large cities has drawn attention to what is being recognized as a gen eral awakening in religion throughout the w hole country. These times of m« reased re ligious fervor seem to come in periods, like seasons of financial prosperity, and it is be lieved by many that we are just now passing through one of those revivals. Herewith are presented portraits of a few of the quiet though indefatigable workers in this cause. The Rev. J. AY. Bonham is a remarkable man, from the fact that he unceasingly advo eated revivals, or what are termed missions, in the Episcopal church. He has de voted his life to this subject, Refusing pastorates and other offices in order that he might lie free to pursue missionary work. He has crossed the ocean nineteen times, and traveled through the United .States, Canada and Eurojje, preaching and advocating pa rochial missions. *r 4 i n m 19 ■<: REV. J. W. BONHAM. 9* 9* 11 GEORGE C. NEEDHAM. ThefSuccess of the recent missions iti New York ami elsewhere, in the Episcopal church, justify his advocacy of this methoii of church work. He is about publishing ull the facts on this subject, as well as the many interest ing incidents he has met with in his travels, in a book, entitled, "The Church Revived; a Sketch of Parochial Missions in England, Canada and the United States." Like all re vivalists, Mr. Bonham is intensely earnest and energetic in his manner, and a pleasant and interesting sjjeaker. Another of the hard working evangelists is the Rev. George C. Nee<lham. He was born near the lakes of Killarney, Ireland. He is one of four brothers who are preachers. In 18**7 he met Mr. Moody, in London, and in lNi!l Mr. Needham spent three months ^ with his friend in > Chicago in revival work. They have remained warm friends and co worker ever since. Mr. Needham has preached in the prominent cities of twenty states, having met with the greatest success in Halifax, Portland, Providence, Philadel phia, Indianapolis, Richmond. Lynn, and other cities in Canada and the Uniteil States. Mr. Needham is under the medium height, with a form a little inclined to stoutness. His hair and fu'l, short beard are just sprinkled with gray. His feature are expressive an«l lit up with a pair of pleasant gray eyes. He talks with all the lively fluency of the Irish race. His preaching abounds in illustrations, hut he never attempts oratory, and seldom rises above the lecture style. His discourses are of a lively, entertaining nature, and very effective. He seems to make a personal apjieal to each one of his hearers, no matter how large is the audience. Like Moody, what be says is never obscure; the meaning is revealed instantly by the felicitous wording. He is now giving much of his time to southern cities, and this winter has engagements in Lynchburg, Raleigh, Selma, Galveston ami other distant fields. Henry S. De Witt, the evangelist, whose face is a familiar one to myriads of church goers throughout the country, has preached over 8,000 sermons in all the principal cities. He is a native ot Cayuga county, N. Y., and is in his fifty-first year. From a child he had determined on entering the minks- , try, and at the age ' of 13 he joined the "True Reformed Dutch church" of Iwasco. Later he became a Baptist, and accepted a j*as torate in Burritt, Ills., in 1N.Ù7. Since that time be has devoted himself to evangelistic work. For several years, when preaching among feeble churches, his exjienses have been paid by a well-known organ builder. Dr. Brown, of Rochester, says of Mr. DeWitt: "I am not much of an enthusiast concerning evangelists and their methods, but Brother DeWitt's work in Rochester was, on the whole, a successful aud healthy one. He has tact, courtesy, sympathy, a pleasant manner, a warm heart. His preaching is largely illustrative. His methols, as such methods go. are simple, direct, and, judged by their results, wise. He is not greedy of filthy lucre.' Of all the evangelists whose work I have seen, he Is the safest. I would, if the occasion seemed to call for such work, be glad to have him again, which is the high est tribute I can pay him." One of the great, strong leaders of revivals, both in this country an«l Europe, is the Rev. E. Paysou Hammond. He hits been called "t h e children's evangelist," from the influence which he has over youth ful minds. Mr. Hammond seems to have long ago realized the value of training the \ X-rVT* 1 - i twig, instead of \ \ later attempting to bend the unshapely tree. He has been gifted with a sim plicity and tenderness which is all-powerful with the young. The editor of The Chicago Interior says of him: "Mr. Hammond was a pioneer in the work amoug children. The essential idea that little ones can lx> soundly converted ; that the law of spii itiial growth, from very feeble beginnings, may lie em pbasizeil in religious life, and children trained up for the church, rather than recovered to it after prolonged wandering, i> une that will throw heavenly radiance on ull rhe future life of the church." 8. H. H. r* MS REV. H. S. DE WITT. REV. E. u\ HAMMOND.