Denbighshire Free Press

FAR HOMOTTR'S S AIC F; I 1< OT. | AN UNEQUAL MAKBIAGE. ¡;Y THE AUTHOR OF A BITTER ATONKMKNT," I., L N FOLLY," ETC.. LTC, CM A I'TI:R I YOtTG WOMEN NOT ADMITTED. The head an:1 front of his ofret;ce-tlie I Ijeginning ami end of his wrong-doing—the one misieke <<> his life-liuie was — that lie married Iter. He, Lord Vivien Cursdale. only manied Ilcr. He, Lord Vivien Cursdale. only 80" and heir of I he Earl of Wjildrove, nuivrisil Alice Dei-went, Lite daughter o!'Joint Derwent, I piolewiion— intuiied Iter with far less thought than lie would liave bestowed on choosing a hunter or a bound— mm tied Iter frolll a honest, honourable, ir.isiiiUe-n impulse, yielding to the weakness of IIIH character which ntatle him look always I for ilie easiest, wny out of a difiiculty, tlud ■socril'ce the fnluie to present ease. It happened in U»ia way Lord Vivian Cats- dele bud «one through I lie ustm! routine of English education lie had been to Eton and j Oxford; he had made ilie grand (our; but, even t hen hi? father, the Eavl of Waldrove, ■was not sutidied. Lord Vivian was just nine- teen, and he expected from him (lie Seaming, ¡ the solidity, the wit, and (lie wisdom of a mail of thirty. Very much ogaiiisl hi* son's will, ¡ lie made an iingeineitls with Doctor Wallis, one of the finest scholars in England, to receive hn eon as a hoarder for one year, and during that year he was to he fitted to take his place I' as a statesman and an orator. He bad the ual-mal giH of eloquence—this handsome young stripling (o whom fortune had been so kind. I He was to remain for one year with Doctor j Wo His to «I tidy statesmanship as a science, to resfl all the written speeches of great, men, toeoUivn!- the ai t iiself; hut before Lite young I lord had been viMi him Jong, the doctor, who I. was a keen readev of chJ.nu) cr, wrote to tne «avl, et-ifiiigly advising iiim to procure for his son a oomiHiufeion in the army, and to lot hhu see a few j ,ei,vice before be entered ou I; his parliamentary career. "Tliere is a fund of in the young man," wi' t o I he doctor, it turn! of simplicity, itil(I of thought, that wili cause him, sooner or later, to ntuUe great mistakes. The best means of counteracting this will he to let him see some of the most active and most commonplace gro(t":s d lilt. I,Cti I Waldrove was amazed, still lie bad no though! of opposing this wise counsel. It was nuanged (hat his son should remain for the year with Doctor Wallis, then liis coiii- mission should be purchased, end he should join the army. 'I'litit %N.Its! tile begiiiiiiiig of I the chain ot ciictuustuuces that ended in his marriage But the doctor bad one wenk place in his armour, one skeleton in his closet. He was a rigid martinct in tile way of morals no young inan evei, fotiiiti time for lIillatiolliu his house; I it seemed to have been built with the express purpose of keeping all women at to distance no pretty maid-setvants were ever to be found I lurking about the halls and staircases; no pretty girls waited at table or attended to the grants uf the young gentlemen. The doctor was far too wise iie IIUll a discreet, niotheily housekeeper, two grim, elderly maid-servants, a builer, f-id a footman. No woman under the age of forty was ever allowed to enter his doors. I Of all evlablishments in the world itwas the I last from which any one would imagine a clandestine lnulTiilgc-the very last, People Lad snob fait!i in the doctor; they told each I oilier that their hoys could not go to a safer |>lace—the doctor was so very particular. Then f°i'd'1 '"tppeii The doctor bad one shadow hauling over him, and it was this: He hall but one sister, a. light-hearted, Jungh- jn girl, of whom he was very fond, and she this was bis tumble—eloped, when sk; was I seventeen yearsof age,with herdancing-mastei. The doctor never told this, the trouble of *MSI life, but to one person, his dearest friend, and then his words were strong. 1 441 wash my hands of net for ever," lie said "A dancing-master J I give you iny sacred trord of honour th» t if she had married a private I soldier I should hove respected her twice as much, But a dancing-master 1 I hardly believe soeli pecp!e have sonta." Doctor Watli* did, after a worldly fashion, the wisest thing tiiot he could do—he left the town -where be was known and began life afresh at Lndywell, There he Hiade for him- selffailie and a. repntlltiOI), and this one terrible drawback was never known. ¡ Some twelve Veal's rafterhis sister's mniiiage abe wrote to him. to I For God's sake, l vichord." dite said, forget yenr pride and remember whose minister you are. Do not preach morcy and leave your only eieter to starve. My hushaud has been ill for three months I Imveno food forinyse f oi my children. You will not like to read m a daily paper that I had been found, with iny bane in my firms, starved to death. That will happen unless you come to my rescue," That same day (he doctor announced to his papiis that he ws& compelled to leave Lady- well for a dav oi two ill the meantime the Rev. Horace fresebu would take his place. He went to London, where he found the -anfoittivi,it.p dancing mauler null prostrate with low fever, his sister and lier ciiii,ii,eii .absolutely without food. His heatfc melted lie :bnfc his pride too great—be would 11111; touch the burning hand f, that John Derwent held out to ltilll. 'L'iiie, I!e was a lie also I was uppermoji jusL then. He was sorry lor his Kilter—y to htlp her, even to acl<»iowkdge her ne i-rcucit most eloquently about mercy, chanty, and peace. lie had written u long und aide Latin, treatise oil the subject of family de«, l,ui he conUT not cuTi tT>e. iliincing-mtiHter u'roti.ter that was impossible. He eiiilltiegi l,is l,tti-.se lip fruit, wine, and me»it. Ho annotineci! bis intention of sett ling a certain Mntali lue.inte tin bis sister, fit tliat the shou'd nr-v;r be te.iucfs! to such poveity anain. Tnen he tool; hi< letive, leaving a buttling sense, of degiadain.ut (IlId Ilnllle btdiiml bnn. l'ei haps !•>« IteaiI relented ever so lit I le when be .a v i hi- oanciug- j mast er's haggard ey«-i !oid< w).-• u !y alter iiin'. "Good-by, sir," said John 1 >r\\ t.-nt. ''I would not I a he.your money it 1 wer«- si tong and well, hut (:<"d has ia.id me low, ana r.ui- not 11el]> myself, >' rejiay you." left. the room, not I ciuite satisfied with himself, but wholly iinaole I to overcome bis pude. A» i«e viail.ed do\> ii the da.i It, i!Hi i'.in' slai). a wiiim, ^otL ha.mi clasped liis. Uncle," said a, child's clear voice, *'be Icilitl to file. I never have enough to eat—1 Rilyto vt long to learn something sensible; 1 am so Ibed of dancing and the sound of the violin, i >o be kind to me, uncle, and send me to school, The doctor looked, and saw what even he j knew to be a most lovely child standing hefoii- him—a ehiid with a fair face and great stuny eyes, u j>t<>tn^ion of fa.ii' huii uvcv a white neclc. 54c, "indeed 1 will try to be a clever girl." The words that leully won leu, were those. | in which site declared .she was tired of the sound of the violin. "I should think so," he said to himself. Then, noiinj* the exquisite beauty of the girl, be said to henseif, with a sudden impulse of generosity I will save her if she grows up prett y and clever they will he quite sure to make an act)ess of her, or a dancer, or some- thing of that terrible kind. J will save her. What is your name ? Alice," wa? the brief reply. "If send you to school, Alice, clothe you, educat e you, wili you promise me to be a good "Yes, i will. T noil, indeed," she replied, earnest ly, Try me, uncle." He went baclc into the room. lie sii.i(i to his sister, "this child seems pretty, clever, and ambitious. I will educate her'; Twill tind out a fitting school for ner, and will send you money to provide her with clothes. He saw his si at er's face fa,11, not brighten. Are you not pleased ? lie asked, calmly. "Aiico is our best pupil," said Mrs. Derweul; !Iel datH'ills \volll,l !Ja I'C brought us some- thing in soon." 1'he eiiiid looked wist,fully r.r him. i love music," she said but. I do not like tire > dug. These words decided tbe doctor. Let it he as i wish," be said and the parents consented. So Alice Derwent was sent to Germany for her education, and she received a good one. She remained there until she had reached her "iM enteenui year, then she was to return home. She spent, some weeks with her parents, then, without an invita! ion, vent loLadywell to see hedoetor—entered that stronghold of bachelor- hood much to the doctor's dismay. Yon here he cried, in dismay, when be saw a fall, beaut iful, slender girl standing wid outstretched hands before him. I am here to thank you, uncle, sh^ said, in a ch-ar, musical voic-. Yes, yes—very well that i» all light, of course iiol. iiei-e, Alice. f allow no woman uiuler forty to enter this house." Alice raised her lovely eyes in wonder. Under forty 1 I>o teil me why, uncle— tt!l I )lie ii- ily CHAPTER II. A .\lETTNG, ANI! A I'iW:\olISR. An additional shade of severity came over tbrj face of Doctor Wallis. lie iii(l, Llial, even a child would have undent nod why; and you ore no longer a child, Alice. I have hcre I en! rusted to my care some of the noblest youths in England, I must, do my dut y by I hem, and Lite great, duty of all is to keep them from temptation. I have not;.forgot.ten the Legend ot St. Anthony t ln-reforo fallow no women, no girls, about my house, so that, t here may beiMi falling in love, no nonsense of unequal marriage. Yon understand, Alice V She lookeVt at him with innocent, child-like eyes. "Not; quite, uncle. No one is obliged to fall in love, are they 1" We need not discuss the subject," said the doctor; it is sulficieut for you to know my resolve." "Iain son y to know it," said Alice, with her girlish dignity and girlish pride all in arms "for 1 am very grateful to you, uncle, and 1 want to prove it." He saw tea-.s in the beautiful eyes, whose sweetne-is years ago had touched his heart. ;i 1 will go buck," she said 1 am sorry that T came, ltm-Ie. 1 wanted to show yon that f hud made some progress; I will go home." She held out a little white hand to him. and the doctor's heart was touched. :i There is no need for that," he said, hcV.ily. "1-1 should be glall to see you for a day or two, but vou must keep entirely to the house- keeper's rooms you must give me your word of honour tout you will never even cross the pa^Si'ige. I shall go to TJi's. Chawners room when I wish to see you. Do you givameyoui piomise t "I promise," she replied The doctor rang his bell.u hick was answered bv t he housekeeper. Mrs. Chawuer," be said, gravely, this is my niece—Miss Derwent. Si«e ?s here Jot a few days lIlatl may see what progress she lias made in her studies you will be very kind ami attentive to her. See also that my direct,ions n.re fully carried out—that Miss Derwent does not, leave your rooms." Mrs. Chawner bowed low. "Are Lord Vivian's things, most of them, p,icice(I "Yes, sir; they are ready. His lordship thought of going on Thursday. His lnggage was to wait, he said, until it -was sent for." "Thank von," said the doctor, ill his grave, I slate! v fashion; and the housekeeper knew that she was dismissed with those words. A'ice thou'dit to herself, What a beautiful name-Lord "Vivian H is Uko a name in a ""she'went away with Mr*. Chawner, and spent the dullest day of her llfe woman's room. There were "i W(>r"' in it—the Bible and Sir Charles Crrandwon. .She took refuge in the latter. I rue, evcij attention was paid to her. iVL's. Channel brought hev a delicious 1 iiLie dinner, a veiv nice tea, and a nice supper then the docloi came and talked to her about, her studie-. It is worse than a prison," thought Alice. She longed to know wh«t was going oil in the other parts of the house she beard music, singing, the sound of voices, and she was sliul up, a she said Lo herself, like an early Christian martyr, The next (ity,lawite(I in 1.110 same dreary fashion but: there was hope coining — an incident was to happen which proved how the very best laid plans of men are often all in vain. No one, except Mrs. Chawner and the servants, knew Unit the doctor's niece had I arrived. The doctor went out that day at nooi- to eall UPOIJ gentleman in the. neigh- bourhood who wished to see him; Mrs. Chawner was busy preseiving frnit and as. ill-luck would have it, I-onl V.vtau Ca.sdale, don.g something or other which* he need not have done, cut two of his fmgers '7, as\\ matter of course, theie was iu» j ikjtfder to be found. ,f: Never mind," said Lord man to one of I his companions I will go to fheliMisekecper s I room. Mrs. Chawner always keep* a store ot those things." I Without, a thouglrt that, no was going to bis fate, without dreaming ot all thai would i ensue front that, one visit,, he went and knocked at, tiie door a sweet, clear, musical voice bade him enter. Wondering, fu 11 of amaze, he went, i in and in place of Mis. Chawner, he saw one j j of the most, beautiful girls in the world. t j "[ beg pardon," said the <.en! ,tiuan i J thought Mis. Chawne:' was bete. "I will iiuJ her," .said Alice, "at once, i> j you W'IMI." "No, never mind, f ban!; yon: loon he looked al her more earncs. i, Are ou "No, never mind, f I ban!; yon: loon he looked lit her more earncs. i, Are ou ¡ I related to Mis. Chawner ?he i.sked, abruptl.v. I No," she replied "I am ine docloi > I niece." ¡ o ie any relations he never speaks of any." "No," said Alice, with simple candour, thai chaimed him. e are poor iciuUous lie i- not likely to speak of us." I You may he poor, ihonehl Tjord ~Y)\ifin, "but you are beaut.ilill eiutugn to be an empress." Would yon be kind enough not to say t .iat yoil have seen n:e ? she said. "My uncle iforbade me to leave this part of the hou.-e, ami lie would be annoyed if he knew. "1 will not mention it, said Lord sunn, lie was not exact iy in love with her, but iie thouglit; her the iimM, bewiichiii-ly beautifu girl he had ever seen. It. was only natural that having this lit lie confidence established between tl'.em, they should 0->k for a lew minutes longer. Chen Lord V ivian said, .suddenly: "1 must go, or someone will Una minutes longer. Chen Lord V ivian said, I litil"l e, Nvili l'iti,i me here." He had' forgotten the wounded lingers. t do not 1:ke to 11■ iu u, h,,ugh, t h:t1 I sliail never see you again. V e.t, you ate guarded like a state prisoner. Would yon like ,I to see me again—do you care for iL ? Yes," she replied. rff¡\ next JtOlllef\L he ,vn :¡":tl, :tqlt t,¡;¡e heard Mrs. Chawner's heavy foot'leps iu the corridor. She hail just time to turn away to hide her t'ushed face and trembling bands at 1 the window. Mrs. Chawner came with a j bmg story of the cook'*3 negligence. A'ice ,iev. !■ heaid one -.vord she had L'one into In' I" ¡ I', M few miiitil es. cattle lo say that Lord Vivian wished to see the I hou. vkeeper at Ollce-would she come to his loom ? The name struck lieratonce it was Lord Vivian she had seen. 1 mil. same evening Alice received a note; hn-r Vi-.arr: afterward every word of it seemed I I to burn in ¡lead; anti kdll, Yt, :t WIlS ollly a I i.tovS; iooiish love ic.ttei. It said I 1 I.ope you will not be angry with me for I p. riling, hut I have teen thinking of you ever I yoti. It must have been a kind f,ii: that led me to you. I ant leaving here i.i is |w day s let me see you once more. !e,1 Llie There is a beautiful walk here, called the « J.'airv (i'en.' Will you be there at three lo- 8iiall aivail 3,oii.-as Borneo awaited Juliet." No object ion was raised when she asked per- mission to go out. Do not blame her too severely she was young and beautiful, she loved pleasure and happiness, she saw 110 harm in taking this great. to her. She I spent: the happiest hour of her life in the glen •-■the very happiesl every houvuUei that had a shallow over it. She told him all the simple history of her life, the uncongenial home, the dull, dreary school. He was more struck by S her fear of the doctor than anything eise he could understand and appreciate it.. "Vou will he happy sometime," be said, I looking into her beautiful face, "lam not very old, nor a great, philosopher, but, I have always noticed one thing—people have to be unhappy in some part of i heir lives it is belter lo have it, over while jort are young. With It face like j oins, foitune could not be hard always. Tell me, have you really never had one happy day ? "No," she replied "never." "That seems hard. 1 shouiii 1 iIce you to have that. We may not meet again just yet, but 1 should like you to connect me with lite happiest day in your life. 1 have a grand jdan in my mind, if you would like—if yon I would lave courage—one happy day is a great deal to Coiiik of. Are you brave i "1 think so," s'o> replied, I And yen would like to have one day quiLe beppy—to think of ever alterwaid ?" I¡;decd J RIIOII!'¡, Lonl Vil'ia.II." I I "Then 1 will show you how we con haveil- I need, not leave heie until Saturday, but Tam going ou Thursday morning to avoid the great I nuisance of ihc year—the school fete. The go, go- I 1 detest it. (liei-c is a 1 rege.lt». at. Fern bay. We will go if you like— if you are brave enongh. I will show you how. Fenibay is thirty miles lien here. When I say good-bye to the doctor here, instead of going home, I. shall, without saying a word to I' l'tim, go to t'ornhay. Then you will find every one goes early to the fttt,—be sure the doelor will not invite you—you may be equally sure that the servants will never think of you between t he two you will be quite safe. Then, when they are oil gone, go down to the station and take the train to Fernbay. I will meet you there we will have the grandest day you can imagine, and I will bring you back 111 the I evening. You wiil reach home before they do--they do not break lip til! afl,tr ten yon will be home by nine. Then the servant who admits you will think you have come home alone from the fete those who return irom the feie. will think that yon have spent the day in Die house. Are yon brave enough tor ibis, Alice ?—I like Alice better than Rliss Derwent, She sighed deeply. lI. was 0 terrible lenipta- I tion—a whole happy, sunny day spent with this handsome niamwho admired Iter AO greatly. I :1 harm done no witnesses to Leil. H was 'I j a grcat. temptation. I "1 ain afraid," she said, faintly. "The woman who deliberates is lost or won," laughed Lord Carsdale. Yon need not, fear. See, T was so sure you would eon- sent that I bought yon a ticket. This takes ui.1. tc Fornbav, admits you to the regatta, 'I and biings you luieic. ,t lotsay Alice. 1 pledge you my wot I all wili be well." It was the sight of the ticket that decided her. In an evil moment she yielded, and, look- ing up at him with a smile, said "i will go, Lord Carsdale, if you are sure all will be well." CIIAPTEU III. WHAT SHALL WE DO?" Every difficulty wus only too easily over- come. Nc one in t hut severely classical and moral mansion had the least idea that its chief ornament and the doctor's niece bad met. On the Thursday morning the handsome youna lord bade farewell to bis tutor and coim I panions. Soon after tie bad gone, the doctor, with his young friends," went off to the/e^, I the young friends feeling very much aggrieved at being obliged to lose a day. Doctor Wallis had siiid not hing to his niece of the ftl*, I If T tell her she will want to go," he argued, "and she cannot go, I would not have her seen for the world." The only servant left in charge of the bouse saw Alice" Derwent leave it, and naturally I thought she had gone with the rest of the world to Lady well Woods I The coast was quite dear—(here was not on obst acle lo be overcome. Still the girl s heart beat high with excitement; it, wos a terrihle, Rit-lo-iL ttn awftl to ilc), et lilced I lie ¡ excitement, and enjoyed the danger, as the young and thoughtless always do. It was such so entirely, o:¡o surpasswgiy happy, that she could never forget it so luiglit, so sunshiny. Lord Carsdale latel I i ey at. the station wit h a carriage. In al! her life before she had never been in a carriage. There was no single thing thai couid add to her happiness forgotten by him. Be took !!qr to a tirst-closs hotel, gave her a dinner such as she never dreamed of; t then they went down to the lovely, smiling, happy sea. He did not make love to her; he was not exactly in love wit h her. He admired lier gieai.Ty lie ban a kimily, uompassionale, j brotherly liking for love.I She was a beautiful, unhappy child, with heart and soul full of longing—a beautiful, graceful gk 1 whom fortune and fate had Hung in his way and he had stepped aside, as it were, to give her a little happiness. He showed her every I hing that was worth seeing at Feuibay. Then lie tinned to her with a smile Alice, our happy day has almost, ended il is neai iy seven—w a musi go 10 tLe sttlliOl1 soon. You shall have some tea tirst." She bad some tea in a beautiful room over- looking the sea. IICN (it' forget this day," she said to hint. "I shall have to work haul all my life —very bard 1 do not look forward to any pleasure or ony happiness. 'This will be the one day of my life—it holds brightness euough to brighten all my life." "1 am very glad, Alice," he said, with unaffected kindness, "in the years to come, if I can help you in any way—you must always rCll1ellllltr I 11 I\'{; I alii YOI1I' friclld-L Hha1\ be ;,10 pleased to assist you. We have been good ti-ieii,is-ilave '%I'e ilot, Al;lct- ? "You have not done wrong, Lord Carsdale. You will think what 1 am going to say strange I but it is true. If any one had told me that my death was to be the price of this day's enjoyment, 1 should have, been w illing to die." I Willing to give all your life for this one day's pleasure?" he repeated. y tsi I I ce this one day holds in itself t he happiness of a life-time." "\Ve 11I11i;1, 1)(,1, fo:get tl:e tilne," l¡e SHi,l. •'Sec, Alice, the sun is going down; 1 had belter order the carriage." While Lord Carsdale spoke to the servants, she went out on the balcony I hat overlooked t he sea the sun was setting,and a great crimson light ieii over die water. "Good-bye, happy lily she said "good- bye, fair, smiling sea" You have chanted all (itv. Good-hyp, bright, dear sun I You will never shine so brightly for me again. I feel as Eve must have felt when she left the sweet-scented Garden of when she left the sweet-scented Garden of Then they drove to the station. How it I happened can never be told—whether Lord Carsdale had mistaken the time for the train, whether Alice had lingered too long on the balcony, whether they had driven too slowly— for some cause 01 other they were too late; the train had storied, mid there was no other that night for Ladyweli. Lord Carsdale was I "ill, l,ill\clf \V¡;;n he l,e[ll'(1 it; !ai"I.(I:¡d- some face paled, his kindly heart ached, Trne, I it. was ali his own fault, but it would not hurt him. SIte wOllld liavc to suffer. For the first time in his life he felt, something like fear as lie WClIl. up to the young girl, whose very life lay, as it, were, in his hands. "Alice," he said, gently. "I am very sorry, but; we are late—the train has gone." "Good Heaven i" she snilf, in a hoarse whisper. what shall we do "Do not distress lie "It is seven now i will order a carriage, and we will diive there. ve SIILLII be III iiine, do iiol fear." Do you think i,,o I she said; are you sure, Lord Carsdale?" Yes, 1 am sure. Do not, tremble, Alice I will do all I oan trust me." He was distressed for her because he saw what she suffered. He did his best to obtain a c.aiiiage quickly, but the day was unfortu- Life day of the regat ta ali the Cal F..D.ge., were out or hired—liicie was nothing to be had. When at last, he succeeded it was half- past seven, and il, was quite thirty miles I Unless she was there by nine it would all be useless. Lord Carsdale. went to the driver. I will give you live pounds, if you will take us to Lady well, to reach there by nine." ie glad enough, sir, of five pounds, but I could not do that if you offered me lifty—it is not possible." Do the best you can," said Lord QarsdalB, hurriedly'; and the next moment they were going fast along the white high-road. But fate wits ugoinsl them. The horse grew tiled the driver began to apologise, ?f I thoughthe could not keep up tllat sr-eelt." lie said. "You see, sir, being the regatta tbi}7, the horses, like the men, have been busy all day. I should say, this one has been to the station twenty times and more." It, was with a great effort that the horse stumbled along, while the darkness of night; fell over the land, and the girl's lieltrt, almost Ceased to beat with fear. "What time is it, Lord Carsdale! asked Alice. To his horror it was long after nine he dare not tell her. I shall see better when we come to Lauy- well," he said, evasively it is dark now. [ could wa.iic more quickly than this, I.OMI Carsdale cried Alice, in a sudden passion 0 K'ief. "Patience." he said, genllv fcheie is ie spire of Ladywell church. Do J1(d' tiem > Alice; roti will be in time. We muse <0'' drive through the streets—the ivoiiltl attract so much at tention we will wai c. And, when they reached the ? .• „ town, be slopped the carriage, l,al,l 1 amply, and sent him bock to I en.bity men I they walked quickly up the street i,or, c, ri I l. I DEeIDl.NO HER FATE. Doctor Wallis had chosen for his habitation a tall, sqtiaie bouse, standing just at tie entrance of Ladywell. It was all gtoom and darkness as the Lwo stood bef(ii-e it- 1 here was not the faintest glimmer ot lig 1 eilliei- front window or door; it was R al V silent. As they stood there, from die church tower near them the hour of eleven ia.ig ciu —slow, solemn strokes, each one a t ea 1 kllell t [} Alice. 1 "Eleven," she said, in ft low v«,cc->f ls lS really eleven o'clock, Lord Carsda e I am afraid so. I am very *00}' have never been so sorry for anything ;1. "Thev are all gone to bed there, sliesam "and if 1 ring it will be the who comes he will not let me en ,ei t f j again; he will send me home ami ted n i fathe., „,y falter »tnW» » £ > „ „er „M heaid any one weep befoit. "Alice. 1 cannot hear that, 1 am .0 sonj. How foolish I was to persuade you tom 0, thi*; but, indeed, I only thought of giving you pleasure. Can vou ever forgive me T "I have nothing t" forgive," slie replied "They will kill me for it; but T wou d Kilhei have had it and die thaii have Uvea ,vi. lout •« Bi^t^ATke^hey^winot kill you; y&n have ^°"eNo,slie,fobbed :l yon do not understand, Mv father is very particular, and there are three of us girls he always says tuat .us »s a dangerous profEssion, one that obliges linn Lo be very careful with his daughters^morecaref.il than other people. My sister, Rosa, is vety pretty and a great flirt. Pe,.sa/s, 8onie" times 'Mind 1 in spite of all 1 do, you may one of you go wrong but you snail nevei live wrong. „ You have not gone wrong, Alice. "What shall 1 do ? "she erieil. "Oh, Heaven! what shall I do ? Yon cannot .cn'ise it, Lord it,. Myu;;c#'« will not, perhaps, trouble himself as Lo w bethel I am innocent or guilty he will simply close bis door ill ili-N, face, scorn me, ami f01bid nie to intrude on him again, I\Wbdhcr,e\-cntfha does no worse, will do the same. I am only seventeen, and I shall be P-liall I)e alone in I he world." Alice," he said, "do you reaby he.iexe that all will happen as you spy—dial yon will be thrown alone and desolate on Nv(? I am as sure of it,"she replied, as t hough it had already happened." Then," he said, slowly, there is lc.it, one way out of the difucuHy. I am a gentleman I canTlot leave you in ilixtrew* oil o\ nivserr. I eLLiii(yu i-(,ii to tily imprudence*. If it is indeed as you say, there is I;iit. oiie otit, of tile marry you," Marry nie "she repealed,naively. "Why that would make mat lets a. thousand times worse." "No that would never be, Alice—it couldn't be. The men of my race are not UCCIIHI oined to draw ladies into diilieuities and leave them there. It seems to me thai I hold your life, as it were, in my hands. There is but one thing a gentleman can do." "But," said she, "how could it IH-llow j could you marry me?" "I will li ml the way and means," he replied, "Do not be afraid—trust, to me." As he bent over her, waiting her reply, the clock tolled out the hour of twelve—midnight; and Alice heard it with a faint ing htai I. They bad spent one whole hour before the doctor's closed-up bouse, "Yollr answer, Alice ? lie whimpered, "My answer is Car-stale," she said. "Iain glad you have tiusled me, Alice," he said, "I had begun Lo imagine that you did not." (I I t,rii-L yoii, i'll it, site arswei-e(l. "Wo have :io time to lose, Alice. You iiiii,licill While you have been deciding your fate 1 have been thinking it all over," Lord Carsdale said. CHAPTICR Y. SA VTNG A WOMAN'S HONOUR. "We must go straight to London; that is the only place where we can be married. They make sucii a fuss about marriages in these I countiy places; in London they take things more quietly. A few thousand marriages there, more 01 less, make liO dlffmellce. Alice, can you walk lo Layisiten Junction? His only four miles from here; tllcre we can take the express to London. I am sorry that you should tired and fatigued; there is noway of I uet ing a caniage for you." "1 can walk," she replied, quickly, Then sav I'ood-bvB to the doctor s liorse, (II DC f. liUS *U»C WU»ViC J ,"I'" WT-W -h",u.UJ -.ah! Lord Carsdale. Thpy readied the station with time to sgftfe the express left there at two ill the morning. I must, be cautious," said Lord Carsdale "i hough I do uül lhiuk "hat tluy one here !,mors me. I He sent a porter to purchase Ike tickets, and in a few minutes they were going as last as fleam could take them to London, Alice," lie said, gently, close your eyes and try to sleep. To sleep She could have laughed at the To sleep, with all this wonder stirring in her heart—sleep, on the very threshold of I fate It was not possible. She closed Ley eyes, and lie believed she slept. Morning was dawning when they reached I ¡), ¡ Ii II. will go direct, to the he uaid: "i id, is one of the li nest hotels in London. You wil! be very comfortable there, Alice, I sheW get a special license the first thing in the morning, ami we shall be married by noon." Lord ("arsdjile ordered al! that she required then, with 11 warm pressure of the band and a low bow, lie bade her adieu for a Lime, Are yuu not going to remain here! she asked. "No," lie replied; "it will be better not. I be with you by half-past ten in the nIOJ'lI1l1. 1 have the license," he said, when he returned Jo I,he hotel. We have no time to h si there can be no marriages after twelve at noon." Is i L-trne ? I) she said. « Is whattrne,Alice ? i do not understand," Tg it true that we are to be niat-iied-you and I ? Is illelllly ti tie ? This looks strangely like it," he replied, smiling,as heshowed her the license. "Victoria, greeting "he said; "who shall say nay ? I om sorry, Alice," he continued, "that we have not time to get you a pretty dress to be mnnied in. We must have the wedding-dress after the wedding. See, there is one thing that I did not forget." He showed her a small brown morocco ease she had not, the least idea what it contained. "Open it," said Lord Carsdale. She did so, and there saw a ring of plain, 1 thick' gold. A wedding-ring cried Alice, Certainly," he"replied. "You could not be married without, a ring, could you V be married without, a ring, could you V Then through all her life she retained a faint, dazed dream of a large, dim, cold, stone t. ;I,illl -Iiii.i,y a.iid an el(iei-ly clergylmin, with ti thin, worn face, and white Ilhir. Of the marriage service she remembered but, little; the sweet, solemn words that hound her for life, the terrible vow that, no mailer what she suffered, must never be hiokeu—all seemed to her like the faint, Mveol music, of a dream. She did not seem to recover her full consciousness until they had left the church alld Lord Carsdale, look- I ing with kindly pity at the pale, beautiful face, said. haJf-proudly You do not regret; your t rust in me, Alice, my wife? And now that you are my wife, I have much to say. We will not return to the Kmnress we will go to the London Bridge. Hotel. I wiil tell you why when we are there," CHAPTER vr A flRIDK'.S LKTTKRS. The next scene was iu a pretty, cosy sitting- room in t he London Bridge Hotel, one window uf which looked over the busiest traffic that the world knows. The young husband and wife sal together. They had finished break- fast, and in honour of his wedding-dav, the handsome young lord ling had ordered a bottle of "That will make it a proper champagne I breakfast, Alice," he said. "No one can be properly married without a champagne break- fast." Verhapa it was the wine that made him brave. He drew sis chair to the table. "Now, Alice," he said, "we will defy the whole world. I want yon to write some letters you must write, word for word, just wnat I dictate. Before you begin, I have something to say to you." She looked up at him reverently, as though she were listening to tin angel or a,11 oracle. "Yon know, Aiice," he began, that I am father s only sou and heir. I am now Lord "Vivian Carsdale; eventually I Alitttt be- though Heaven grant, the time be distant- I shall be Earl of Waldrove. You understand, ot course, that lilY lùther and mother have grand views for ine—they expect me to marry W (! by that, I meau some one in their own rank of life." I am so sorry," she began. There is nothing to be sorry for, my deav Alice I have vindicated myself and saved vou there is i'o cause for regret. I waul to explain to yon. My parents expect great things front nie. If [ did as I liked, I should go at once and say lo my fallter: 'See, father, through my carelessness I placcd this young lady in a false position, and, to save hev from the conse- quences of it, I have married her try to love her, for she is my wife,' That is what I should like to do, you nnderstnnd but; I am afraid, I and I will tell you why. Yon need not tremble; it is nothing, as yon will find if you listen. My f liter's hopes are fixed on me,and I hesitate about let ting 1-iiii know that those hopes are all in vain." "But. why?" she said, gjnlly ".why, if you knew Ibis, have you married 1Jh v WIly ? Because your fail name is more io me than all the world besides nothing can be of any value compared to this. Listen, Alice. Always remember that it is of no use to argne about the inevitable it i* too late to consider now w hethcr we have done a wise thing or not,; we are married, theiefore all qnesLions as to t he prudence oi otir marriage are useless. I luvve thought this well over, Alice; we D1 keen ouv marriage ouite a secret fron) my i-i i iot* s(,iiie iku ne 18 1Iot very strong, many of I he Carsdales die young, and not lor all the world could I bear (,o think that any action of mine made my father -iiffer- injured his health, or anything of the kind — that would nevei do. We can keep our secret- very well it must be kepi. Then my mother, Ihe is strong and healthy enough hut she is very proud, and she might, just: at first feel vexed, So, for inuny reasons, it will be bet ter kept from them. Do you agree with me? She quite agreed with him. He looked very much relieved. f should do just as you liked over it," he said. "If you mid wished it, I v.-ouhl hove taken vou home to-monow but t om glad you agiee with me. 1 want you now to give me your promise. Alice-—your solemn promise; think the ivoi-(]. %iill iie%-ei-I.Pl] to any creature living that, you are the wife of Lord Carsdale. Will you promise?" I promise you," she said, most solemnly I will le%,et that t will never reveal our marriage to any one. I will keep my promise truly, as I love I you." "This is what. T have been thiokhig, Alice I dislike ail false names—t here is something } mean, dishonourable about them. My name is Vivian Nelson Car- dale. I propose that you call yourself Mrs. Nelson 1 he name is not an uncommon one. ami it will be true—you I are Mrs. Nelson. Are you willing, Alice I would do anything y ou wished, anyl bmg I that you asked me. 1 should ne willing to I give IllY life for you." yoii, Alice," he snid. [ know it is a sacrifice, but you make it so cheer!n 11 v that 1 am pleased 1 asked it." "Now, little wife," lie added, "we have I these letters to write. Sit down an t I ¡!, j dictate them. The first, is to the faniou I Doctor Wallis, of Ladywell." j Ami, following his dictation, Alice wrote as follows; MY DEAR UNCLE :-l am ofmid yon will be very angry with me for having left your 1 bouse as 1 did. I may as well tell you ietty that I was married this morning r.»nt my hus- band desires me to say Unit be takes the whole 1; -f «> =..y- -«• I tiimseK. i am going abroad; we shall be iu 1 Paris to-moiiow. If yon answer my letter, pleo.se address Nelson, Poste Re*l%nie, Paris.* Froiu your affectionate niece. A L I c, r, NELSON." Paris alie repeated. "Olt, Lot,(! Viviaii, are we really going to Paris ? "I hope so," he replied. "Now for your spcond letter; it will be longer than the first. Write: illy DEAR PARENTS Yon wili be sur- prised to hear that I am married. I have to I ask your forgiveness for having married with- out your permission. ] am sure that yon will like my husband, and be promises to assist you. We are going to Paris for a short time, t hen we shall come home and pay you a visit. Please do not be angry with me, for I am very happy. I must not forget to sny that I am afraid my uncle will be very as I left, I Ladywell without telling him. My husband wishes nie to say that be takes all the blame —if there be auy—of this hasty marriage on I himself, and that when he sees you be will explain. I shall send you a parcel from Pads. 'I am ever your obedient daughter, ) ,I I ALTCE NELSON.' "I do not think," said Alice, doubtfully, "that I ought to sign myeelf 'ohedieJlt daughter.' lllave uut bper). very obedient, I fear." "YOIt did not disobey in getting married," said her litiabaiid, 11 for lliev had never for- bidden it." Then Lord Carsdale dashed off a hasty lIobo I to his parents, telling them that he should in all probability be absent for some weeks, as he was going with a friend through France to 'I: Switzerland, He knew lhat they would think litt le of that; it was no unusual thing for him to absent himself for 0. few veeks-LIey J tlwlIgllt noi Iling of it. Now," lie said, with a sigh of unutterable I relief- now we are free, and all is safe. Inm quite certain that 110 one will ever «uspect our secret. Your uncle neve knew we saw I each other; lie will never dream that Mr. Nelson and Lord Carsdale are the same people, We may forget our difficulties now, and think r.f Paris. ou shall go through France to i Switzerland you will enjoy that, Alice." (TO BE CONTINUED). { I

ft WATCH Si QHAtH Fftfi ONE EWS WOtt f Boj-y and (Mrii en get 1 KIC5TKL- I PLATKD WATCH, sim • CHI .MS' ami CliARM for wiling 1$doew pe»lc*g«a rj BUUIfE u Flnponcft «&ch. mi<1 your Sef^ FALL addrang, toelwting OAOM ,~f r ■T/l\ jw bj-rata n m»n. uxl w» Wtll forwirrl t!t« Blnuw. port paid, »ort m Urgcprealtxm list. No nu»;r ^oBr* required, BLOmi Oa. (OtyutavM I) 34t, Otyy KamA. »M< MWTOK, Lontoa, SJB.

(Copyright.) RURAL LIFE. I fit A SON OF THE SOIL. t THE SEBRIGHT BANTAM, I Sebrights are, without doubt, ona of the i prettiest of all the bantam race, their fine colour, with the delicate but well-defined lacing, giving them a particularly charming appearance, which is not possessed by nay ctlier ririetv. They owe their origin to Sir John Sebright, who manufac- tured them in the early part of the present century from the large Polish fowl, crossed on I some kind of bantam, their complete develop- ment taking long years of careful breeding but the labour then expended has been amply rewarded by the state of perfection which now exists. The Sebrights consist of t'-ro colour?, the golden aud the silver, and the peculiar SEBRIGHT BANTAM. I feature in the markings of the plumage of both eolc&rs is that every feather is iaced or margined round the edge with a narrow border of black. The colour of the golden Sebright is a rich bay, whilst that of the silver is a pure white. A great peculiarity with Sebrights is that the cocks are what is called hen-feathered—that is, that tire tail U exactly like that of the hen, and also thtte are no loose bacfclo feathers. The comb ought to be rose, but in this capect there is much left to 00 desired (writal Mr. Verrcy in bis excellent little book); M most of the present-day Sebrights fail to this important point. Sebrights do well in confinement, and to, are few prettier sights than to see a few of them struti. about a lawn or grass enclosure. DWABF LARU. The pigmy calceolarias, of Wide*1 my corre- ipondent was so enamoured at the Teinp.c Show, gre general favourites for table decoration, iu U6 a distinct addition to the list oi plants fult&ble for the conservatory. They are exact "IplieU of thtJ large variety, and although rather PWAtii' (• A t, v; A;■ a, -1 expensive—the &eed costing from 2s. 6d. to 51;1 a packet—they certainly pay their way very well, plants always selling readily. Either singly or collectively the plants a.re very showy, "Tief are certainly a novelty well worth cultivation. They are ail the best colours, the golden-yellow being the favourite, and all who saw the display at the recent Temple Show will agree with n.:J that the firm responsible for their production deserve the thanks of florists. Their popularity is assured. THK MUSCOVY DUCK. Whilst ducks may be spoken of as the modfr profitable of all domestic poultry, some at least of the varieties can be regarded as very beauti- ful, and especially suitable to those who keep their poultry for pleasure. For keep;r however, it is desirable to have water, foe although it is true that, they can be kept withouf., water, breeders generally know that table duckr are. all the better for having water in which ta disport themselves whenever they feel so in" clined. Of the many varieties, the Muscow i# very striking appearance,although by no mean? nandsome. T:ie body is long and unwieldy. W. TUli MUSCOVY DUCK. ratner shallow, and the head and tail are sat carried as to add to the long appearance, tit" latter being fan-shaped, but quite fiat. TIlt nock is short, and the feather., have a loosS, ragged appearance, w-hiist around the eye and spreading down to the beak is a fleshy protubetv ance, which does not add to the beauty of th3 bird. The Muscovy, I should add, has a temper. and it is scarcely safe to keep him wifits' other lowls. Where i7, is desired, then he IT found valuable for crossing. PBIMFLAS ANn TarrE TIFATMEN-T- SCMITEB, ,tN It sometimes happens that the most promising batch of seedling prim.iias is ruined by the want of care with them during the summer months. Frequently it is owing to the wrong position to, wnich they are placed—perhaps one full south, where the plants sooa shew signs of weakness and die )ff-or it may fc"- the plants now in bloom take up too much attention, and plants that should be prepared for blooming in wintee are for the moment forgotten, and they becoirc dried up. Another cause of failure also is allow- ing plants to bioom prematurely in summer before they have fully developed instead removing the buds as last as they app ir. Too much importance cannot be laid L\(.In tL9 position the plants occupy during the i 'xt fevr months, as upon this depends the success oc otherwise to be attained. The best p'ace 4 under a north wall, standing each plant 111 art aRh-hed. quit" free from one another. It should not be a phce where trees overhang, as n.uclr- shade is not to be desired, but a position whsr# the morning sun can reach them and coolnes* for the rest of the day is what they ^ant- Primulas, being of a succulent nature, benefit very g-reatly by syringing overhead on hot day? when the sun is oil, and weak doses of cow-» manure will aid very much in strengthening them. Root-water administered twice a week will give a healthy tone to the foliage. As OF rule, healthy plants are not often troubled witlt insect pests; it is the plants that have "run down" that are the easy prey to them, and tbrips and red-spider when they do attack them have generally been encouraged owing to the dry and debilitated state into which the plants have been al:vwcd tojlapse. FKEOT.VO TUUKEY POULTS. A successful Southern turkey breeder has the following to say on the subject of feeding tIt. young in Poultry rpon this mainly hinges the secret of success. Hard-boiled eggs, breadcrumbs, and finely-chopped young onions I give for the first week. Afterwards I gradually cease giving eggs, adding a littie finely-sifted barleymeal, Spratt's meal, and boiled rice. Too much egg is injurious, as it causes diarrhoea. The moment this is perceptible omit egg, and add one tea- spoonful of finely-powdered chalk to every feed until the bowels have again assumed their normal condition. I feed six times daily for the first week or ten days efter that period four times will suffice. I never give water until the poults are a month old, when I supply sufficient boiled water for all to drink, then re-, c move it for the day. As the poults gain strength, add boiled crissei and more onions or lettuce, ceasing the use of breadcrumbs after the first fortnight. Well-boiled meat is helpful to foiir, and plenty of sp&ce to roam upon short, clean grass, with longer grass to shelter in ironr the fierce sun, is most beneficial. As soon aj they are large enough to eat it, a little buck wheat, wheat, or dari given once daily assist* them. Continue t.he soft food until the poults are fuliv four months old: even longer than that would be an advantage, as it aids growtu u so much better than ordinary corn." Turkey poults require grit, and broken flint is the best kind. A handful or two should be scattered near their house, or placed in 3 box so that they may help themselves at will. WINTER SPINACH. The value of a good breadth of winter spinach. cannot be over-estimated. Spinach grown in the- open soil ploughed none too deeply, and iff many cases with only a slight dressing ot manure, is short and less fleshy than that in good garden soil. On the other hand, it is hardier. Though the plants in the open in tt. autumn are not so taking in P-earancc aS those in gardens, they are bettei able ro weather the storm and will give R much better return Much of the succcss with field culture is owir to change of soil, ample space, and freede from insect pests. The preparation cf the soil the most important detail, and should be unc taken for some months in advance of sow the crop. In ground where spinach has fr on previous occasions vigorous measures sh be taken to sramp out such pests as grub w-ireworm. 1 have found a sprinkling of gas-lime effectual in getting rid of this ] Fresh lime from gas-works needs careful ?Dpl tion. I generally secure a good bulk, and exposure for a time there is always some r for use at short nofce; if used in a i state it should be broken very fine and allo to lie on the surface for a tew days. It becomes pu'wrised, and in a more work state, and incorporates readily with the l Another powerful fertiliser and insect destH £ though a simple one, is wood-ash.■?. It v valuable manure in land that has become sic garden crops. The best; position for spinse ingh ground, not sheltered in any way. sowing is usually performed early in Auf the ground by that date will be mfiúe condi If possible, the position selected should Ceen occupied by a totally different crop. S( thinly is advantageous, as the less the gepd, I rlre touched the firmer hold they have. thinning i" "cessary, it should. be uuaM wb. '.he seedlings are cry smalL

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