Lancaster Examiner and Herald |
Previous | 1 of 4 | Next |
|
small (250x250 max)
medium (500x500 max)
Large
Extra Large
large ( > 500x500)
Full Resolution
All (PDF)
|
This page
All
|
Loading content ...
TOL XLII LANCASTER, PA. SATURDAY, MAY 2, 1868. nxAlrmnEB' & sEvt-Aist. FUBLISEES EVEBS 8AHJBDAT. . At Ho. 4 Horth Quoon stroot, lanoaater, Pa. TE1I3IB-S3.00 A ^-EAB IX AlfVAXCE. - JSO. A.-HUHTAKD 4 E. M, KEINB, Editors and Proprietors. BESEAVEMENI AKD COHSOLATION. It is not in the parllng liour, when tliose -we fondly love. Have hreatUed to us their Inat farewell, and -wingetl their way above; Noryet.-wiiBnia the darlcsDine grave we lay themto tlielr rest. The sharpest pane of sorrow rends the strlcK- eu mouiers hreaiit. 'Tis ^vllen we seek our lonely homo, aud meet no more to smile "Which could the darkest cloud dispel, and every care beguile; And when we meotaroiiuathe hoard, or atthe hourof prayer, 'Tis then Ihe heart mosts feels its lo.-iS~the loved oues are uot there. And thu-?. while days and months steal ou, as lacmory brings to view ¦ The i-irtion of departed Joys, our grlof Isstirred anew; Though faith may own a Father's hand, yet nature will rebel. Aud feel howhard Itls to sav, "He hath doue all things well." O mournful iuem(uics of the past! ye wear our lives away f Vo haunt us In our dreams by night, and thro each weary day; The home which late like Edeu's bower, in blooming beauty smiled, Vemakcabaneu wilderne.-is, a de.sert waslo aud wild. liut why thus yield to fniltle.ss grief? are they not happier far-J The .-^intet^oties for whom wc mourn, than Ihose who linger here? Our hearts should glow- with grateful love to Him whose watchful eye Paw dangers gathering round their path, nnd culled Ihem to the sky. Xot long .Ihall we their losa deplore, for soon toe-hour will eome When we, with those so fondly loved, shall slumber in tho tomb; -Then let tiie remnant of our daya be lo liis ser¬ vico giveu.. . IVIitt hill ottr Idols in the grave, icst ive ultoitlil ffiil of Heaven. Xot willingly the I..oi-d alllicts, norgricvc-^tlie soul ofmen; -Tis but to wciui our souls from earth, aud break tbo power of sin; lie saw- us wandering from His paths, aud sent theehastcniugl-od 'i'o lurn our feet from error-s way, nud bring us liomo to uod.. Shall we defeat his w-l.se design, and w-asto our days in tears, I'ngralcful for the numerousgift-ilhatlleavon 111 mercy spares-; l.»t faith and liope ho cherished still, and hrlghtcr days shall dawn. And plants 01 penes shall spring anew from seeds of sorrow .sown.. lABY DEKZIL. Tho BeiizilH wore lhe chief peoiile at Diiiglclielil Green. Their house waa liy umcli the most coiiaiilerable-looliitig lioti.se, niid thegioiiiiils were beautiful. X .suy the most coiisidei-able-lookiiiir, foi- uiy own impression is that Dinglowootl, which was afterwarils bought by thc stoelcbi-olier whose coming convulsed the whole Ureeu, was in reality larger (lian the Lodge; but the Lodge, when Sir Thomas Denzil was in it, wasall the same the centre of everything. It w.-iislikeAVinilsor Castle to ns neigh¬ bors, or perhaps in reality it was more wlmt her Jtajo.sty's act-jal royal habita¬ tion is to tlie dwellers within her castle gates. We wero the poor kniglits, the canons, the musical and ecclesiastical peopie who cluster about that mingled stronghold of the State and Cliurch,— imt to the Lodge was it giveu to bestow distinction upon ua. Tliose of us who visited Lady -Benzil entered into all the privileges of rank; those who did not receive that honor fell into tbe cold .shade,—aud avei-y uucomfortable sliade it must htive been. I speak, you will say, at my ease; fur my people bad known the Denzils ages before, and Sir Tiiomas raost kindly seut his wife to call, almost before I had settled down into ray cottage; but I remember how verysoreJIrs. Woodfeltaboutit, though it surprised me at the time. " I have beon here five years, and havometthem everywliere; but she bas never found the way to my door. Kot that I .care iu tbe least," she said, with a flush on her cheek. She was a clergyman's widow, and very sensitive about her "position," poor tiling,—and almost found fault with me, as if I was to blame tor having known the Denzils in my youth. Lady Denzil, who had so much weight among us, was a very gmall personage. She would liavo beeu tiny aud insiz- nitlcant Uad sho not been so stately and imposing. I don't know how she did it. She was not far from sixty at the time I speak of. Whatever tbe fashion was, she always wore long llowiugdressea wliich swept tlie ground for ayard behind her, and cloaks ample and graceful: always large, alw.ay3 full, and always made of blaek silk. Even in wiuter, though ber carriage would be piled witb lieaps of furs, sbe wore npon lier little majestic person nothing but silk. Such silk!—you should have touched it to know wbat it was. The very sound of it, as it rustled softly after her over the summer lawn or the winter carpet, waa totally difTerent from I thefrolement of ordinary robes. Some people said she had it made for lierself express at Lj'ons. I don't know how that might be, but I know I never saw anything like it. I believe she had every variety in her wardrobe that lieart of woman could desire; Indian sliawls wortii a fortune I Icnoiv were among hcr jiosse.ssions; but she never wore anything but that matchless silk, —long dresses of it, and long, large ample cloaks to correspond. Her hair was quite white, like silver. She lind tlie brightest dark eyes shining out from under brows whicii were curved aud lined as finely as when slie was eigliteen. Hor color was as fresh as a ¦rose. I think there never was a more lovely old lady. Eighteen, indeed ! It has its charms, tbat ple.isant age. It is .sweet to the eye, especially of man. Perhaps a woman, who hits oftenest to lecture the creature, instead of falling down to worship, may not seo so well thc witchery which lies in the period ; but flnil me any face of eighteen that could match Lady Denzil's. It had wrinkles, yes; ,but tlieso were crossed by lines of tbought, and lighted up by that soft breath of c.Kperieuce anil for¬ bearance which comes ouiy with the years. Lady Denzil's ej'es saw things that other eyes conld not see. She knew bj' instinct when things were amiss. You could tell it by the nliari- luble absence of all questioning, by a <:alm taking for grauted the most un¬ likely explanations. Some people snp- ))Osed they deceived her, but they never iteceived her. And aome people spoke of her e-xtraorilinary insight, amf eyes that could see through a millstone. I believe her eyes were clear; but it was experience, only experience,—long know-ledge of the world, acquainttiiice with herselfand human nature, and all the chances that befall ua on our way through this life. That it wa.s, and not auy mere intuition or sharp¬ ness, that put insiglit into Lady Den¬ zil's eyes. Tlie curious thing, however, w.is that she had never had any troubles of her own. She had lived with Sir Tbomas in tiie Lotlge since a period dating far beyond mj- kuowletlgc. It was a thing whicli was uever mentioned among us, chiefly, I have no doubt, because of her beautiful manners and stately look, though it came to be spoken of after¬ wards, as sueh thinga will; but the truth is tiiat nobody knew very clearly who Lady Den-/.il w-as. Sir Thomas's first wife was from Lancashire, of one of the best old fuinilies in the county, and itwas not au unusual thing for uew comei-s to get confused about this, and identify tlie present Lady Denzil with her predecessor; but 1 am not aware that any one really knew the rights of it or could tell who shewas. I have heard the mistake made, aud I remember distinctly the gracious and unsatisfactory w-ay with which she-put it aside. " Tlie first Lady Denzil was a Lancashire woman," slie said : " she v.'as one of the Tuustalls of Abbotts- Tutistall, and a very beautiful and charming jierson." Tliis was all; she did not add, as anybody else would have done, Loauishire or Blauksliire is my eouuty. II w-as very unsatisfactory : but it was fine all the same,—and closed everybody's mouth. There were always some connectious on the Denzil side stoying at tbe Lodge in the end of the year. Nothing could be kinder than Bhe waa to all Sir Tliomas's young con¬ nections. But nobody belonging to Lady Denzil was ever seen among na. I don't think it was remaritod at tbe time, but it came to be noted after- warcis, and itcertainly was very atrange. I never s.aw more perfect devotion than that which Sir Thomas showed to his wife. He was about teu years old¬ er than she.^a Iiale, handsome old man, nearly seventy.' Had he been twenty- five and she eighteen he could not have beep, more teuder, more careful of her. .Often iave J looked at her and wonder¬ ed, with the peaceful life she led, with the love and reverence and tender care whi6h surrounded her, how she had everoome to know the darker side of life; and underatand other people's feel¬ ings. No trouble seemed ever to have come to her. She put dowu her dainty little foot only to walk over soft car¬ pets or through bright gardens; she never went anywhere where those long silken robes might not sweep, safo even from the summer dust, which all the¬ reat of us have to brave by times. Lady Denzil never braved It. I have seen her sometimes—very seldom-with her dress gathered up in her arms in great biilQw-3, on the sheltered sunny-line walfc-whiclr -trw-.onr. one slda^^-thoi Lodge, taking a little gentle exercise ; but this was quite an unusual circum¬ stance, and meant that the roads were too heavj' or too slippery for her lior¬ ses. On theserareoccasionsSirThomas would be at her side, like a courtly old gallant as he was. He was as de- ferenti.il to his wife as if sbe had been a princess and he dependent on her fa¬ vor, and at tbe same time there was a grace of old love iu hia reverence whic U was like a poem. It was a curious Ut¬ tle Paradise that one looked Into over the ha-ha across the verdant lawna that encircled the Lodge. The two were old and childless, and sometimes solitary ; but I dou't think, though they opened their house liberally to kith, kin, and connections, that they ever felt less lonely than when they were alone. Two, where the two are oue, is enough. To be sure the tft-o in Eden were young. Yet it does but con¬ fer a certain tender pathos upon that companionship wheu they are old. I tliought of tlie purest romance I knew, of the softest creations of poetry, when I nsed to see old Sir Thomas iu the line-w-alk w-itli liis old wife. Uut I am sorry she had not called on poor Mrs. Wood. It would have been of real consequence to that good woman if Lady Denzil had called. She was only a clei-gyman's tvidow, and a cler¬ gj'man's widow may be anything, aa everybody knows: she maj- be suoh a pei-son ns will be an acquisition any- w-here, or she may be quile the reverse. It was because Mrs. Wooii belonged to the indefinite cl.-is.-! that Lady Denzil's visit would have been of such uso. Her position w-as doubtful, jioor aoul. She was very i-eaiiectable and very good in her way, aud her daugliters were nice girls, but there was nothing iu them¬ selves individually to raise thein out of mediocrity. I took the liberty to say so one day wlieir I was at the Lodge, but Ladj'Denzil did not see it, some¬ how; and what could I do? Andon theother hand, it w-as gall and worm¬ wood to poor Mrs. Wood every time she saw the carriage with the two hays stop at my door. "I saw Laily Denzil here to-d.aj'," sho would s;ij'. " You ought to feel J'ourself honored. I must any I don't see why people should give in to her so. In my poor husband's time the .Duchess never came into the parish without calling. It need uot be auy object to me to be noticed bj- a bit of a baro¬ net's wife." " Ko, indeed!" said I, being a cow¬ ard aud afraid to staud to my guns; " I am sure it is not worth j'our while.— And slie is old, poor iadj',—and I am an old friend,—and indeed I dou't know what Lady Denzil professes to visit," I went oil faltering, w-ith a seuse of get¬ ting deeiier and deeper into the mud. " O, pray don't aay so to spare mj- feelings," said JMia. Wood, with asperi- tj'. " It is nothing to me wliether she calls or not, butyou must know, Mrs. Mulgrave, that Lady Denzil does make a point of calling on every one she thiuks worth her while. I amsureshe is quite at liberty to do as slie pleases so far as I am concerned." Here shostop- ped aud relieved herself, drawing a long breath and fauning with her handker¬ chief her cheeks whicii were crimaon. " But ifl were to say I w.-is connected with the peerage, or to talk about the titled people I do know," she added, tvith a look of spite, "she would very soon find out where I lived: O trust her for that! " "I think J'OU must Iiave takeu up a mistaken idea," I said meekly. I had not courage enough to stand up in my friend's defence. Not that I am exact¬ ly a coward by uature, but I knew that Mrs. Wood was a dangerous person to deal with ; and I w.is sorry in the pres¬ ent instance, and felt that the griev¬ ance waa a real one. " I don't think Lady Denzil cares very much about the peerage. She is an old woman and has her fancies, I suppose." " O, you are a favorite! " aaid Mrs. AVood, tossing her head, as if it was my fault. " Y''ou have tho entree, aud we are spiteful who are left out, j'ou know," she added with pretended play¬ fulness. It was a very afTeoted littte laugh, however; to whicii she gave ut¬ terance, .and her cheek flamed crimson. I was very sorry,—I did not kuow what to say to make things smooth again.- Ifl had beeu Lady Denzil's keeper I should have taken her to call at Bose Cottage next day. But I was not Lady Denzil's keeper. It was great kindness ofher to visit rae; how could I force her against her will to visit other peo¬ ple ? A woman of Mrs. Wood's age, who surely could not have got so far through the world without a little un¬ derstanding of how things are man¬ aged, ought to have known that it could do hcr very little good to quarrel with rae. Aud thon tbe girls would come to me when tliere was anything going on at tbe Lodge. " We met tlie iSIiss Llew¬ ellyns the other day," Adelaide saidou oneoccasiou. " AVe thought them very nice. Thej' are staying with Lady Denzil, you know. I wisli you would make Lady Denzil call on mamma, Mrs. Mulgrave. It is so liard to come aud settle ill a pl.-ice and be shut out from all the best parties. Until you have been at the Lodge you are consid¬ ered nobodv on the Green." " Tlie Lodge oan't make us diirerent from w-hat we aro,"said Nora, tlieother sister, who w-as of a diflerent temper.— "Ishould be ashamed to think it mat¬ tered w-hctlier Laily Denzil called or not.!' " But it does matter agi-eatdeal when they are going to give a ball," said Ade¬ laide, very solemnlj'. "Thebest halls going, some ofthe officera told me; and everybody will be there,-except Nora and me," said thc poor girl. " O, Mrs. Mulgrave, I wish you tvould make Lady Denzil call! " " But, my dear, I can't m.-iko Lady Den-iil do anvthing," I said ; "I have no power over her. Slie comes to see me sometimes, but we are not-intimate, ami I have no influence. She comes becauae mj' people knew the Denzils long ago. Sho has her own ways. I could not make her do one thing or an¬ other. It is wrong to speak so to me." " But J'OU could if J'OU would trj'," said Adelaide: as she spoke, we would hear the souud of tlie croquet balls from the Lodge, and voices aud laughter.— Wo were all three walking along the road, under shelter of tbe trees. Sbe gave snch a wistful look wben she heai'd them, that it went to ray lieart. It waa not a very serious trouble, it is true. But still, to feel one's solf shut out from anything, ia hard when oue is tweutj'. I had to hurrj- past tlie gate, to restrain tlie inclination I had to brave everything, and take thein in witll me, as my friends, to join tlie cro¬ quet party. I kuew very well what would have happened had I done so.- Ladj- Denzil.would liave been perfectly aweet and gracious, and sent them away delighted withher; butshewould never have crossed mj' threshold again. And wh.1t good would that have done them? The faot -n-as, they had nothing partic¬ ular to recommend them; no special qualities of tbeir own to make up for their want of birth and couueetlon : and this beiug the ease, whatoould any oue say ? It gave one a very difTerent impres¬ sion of Laily Denzil, to see how she be¬ haved when poor Mrs. Stoke was iu sucb trouble about her youngest boy. I had heen with her calling, and Mra. Stoke had told ua a whole long story about him: how good-hearted he waa, and how generous, spending his monej' upon everybodj'. It was a very hard matter for me to keep my countenance, for of course I knew Everard Stoke, and what kind of a hoy he was. But Lady Denzil took It all with the great¬ est attention and sympathy. I could not but speak ofit when we came out. "Poor Mrs. Stoke!" said I; "it is strange bow she can deceive herself 30,—and she must have known we knew better. Y'ou who have seen poor Everard grow up. Lady Denzil-" " Yes, my dear," ahe said, " you are right; andyet, do you know, I think youare wrong too ? She is not deceived. She knows a great deal better than we do. But then she is on the otiier side of tho sceno, and she sees into the boy's heart a little. I hope she sees into his heart." "I fear it is a very bad heart: I should not think it was any pleasure to look into it," said I, iu my baste. Lady Denzil gave me a soft, half-reproachful look. " Well," she said, and gave a sigh, " it has always been one of my great fancies, that God was more mer¬ ciful than man, becauae He saw iully what was iu all our hearts. AVhat we meant, poor creatures that we are, not what we did. We never have any con - fidence In Him for tbat. We think He will forgive and save, but we don't think He'understands, and sees every¬ thing, and knows that uothiu" is so bad as it aeema. Perhapa it ia a dangerous doctrine; at least the vloar would think SOt-Efear."-- .--..:....--. c-z^..:-. t— " In the case of Everard Stoke," said I, stupidly, coining back to the start¬ ing-point. "Mydear," said Lady Deuzil, with a little impatience, "the older one grows, the less one feels inclined to judge any one. Indeed whon one grows quite old," sbe went ou after a pause, smiling a little, as if it were at the thought that she, whom no doubt she could remember so thoughtless aud young, ivas quite old, " one comes to judge not at all. Poor Everard, he never was a good hoy,—but I dare say his mother knows him best, and he is better than is thought." " At least it was a comfort to her to see J-ou look as if you believed her," said I, uot quite entering iuto the argu¬ ment. Lady Denzil took no notloe of this speech. It was a beautiful bright d.iy, aud it was but a step from Mra. Stoke'a cottage to the Lodge gates, which wo -n-ere just about entering. But at that moment tliere was a little party of soldiers marching along the high-road, at right angles from where we stood. It Is not far from the Green to the barracks, and their red coats were uot uncommon features in tho landscape. Tiiese men, however, were marching in a busiuess-Hke way, not lingering on the road, and among tliem was a man iu a shooting-coat, hand¬ cuffed, poor fellow. It was a deserter they were taking back to the punish¬ ment th.it awaited him. I made some meaningless exclamations or other, .and stood still, looking after them for a moment. Then I suppose my interest failed, as they wenton, at their rapid, steady pace, turning their backs upon us. I came back to Lady Denzil as It were; but when I looked at her, there was something in her face that struck me with the deepest wonder. She had not come back to me. .She was stand¬ ing absorbed, watching them ; the color all gone out of her soft old cheek.s, and the saddest wistful, longing gaze in her eyes. Itwas not pity,—it was some¬ thing miglitier, more intense. She did uot breathe or iuove, but stood gazing, gazing after them. AVIien they had disappeared, sbe camo to herself; her liands, whicli had beeu cl.isped tightly, fell loose at her sides; she gave a lone, deep sigh, aud then she became coil- seious of my eyea upon her, and the color eame hack wilh a rush to her face. " I am ahvaya interested about sol¬ diers," she said falntlj', turning as slie spoke to open the gate. That was all the notice she took of it. But the in¬ cident struck me more than my ac¬ count of It maj' seem tojustifj'. Ifsuch a thing had been possible as that the deserter could have been her husband or her brother, one could have under¬ stood it. Had I seen such a look on Mra. Stoke's face, I should have known it was Everard. But here was Ladj' Denzil, u contented childless woman, witliout unj'body to disturb lier peace. Sympathy must indeed have become perfect, before sucb a wistfuluesa could come into any woman's eyes. Often siuce I have recalled thai scene to my mind and wondered over it; tbe quick march of the soldiers on the road; the mail In the midst wilb death envi¬ roning him all round, aud most likely despair iu hia heart and tliat one face looking ou, wistful aa love, sad as death,—and yet with uo cauae either for her aadness or her love. It did not last long. It is true; hut it was one of the strangest scenes I ever witnessed in my life. It even appeared to me next day as if Lady Deuzil had been alittle shaken, either by her visit to Mrs. Stoke, or hy this strange little episode which nobody kuew of. She had takeu to me, which I confess Ifelt as a great compliment. And Sir Thomas came to ask me to go to her next afternoon. " My lady- has a headache," bc said jn a quaint way be had of speaking of her: I think he would have liked to call her roy qneen or my princess. AVhen he said " my lady" there was something chivalrie, something romantic in his very tone. When I weut iuto the drawing-room at the Lodge lhe great greeu blind was drawn over the window on tlie west side, and the trees gave the same green efiiict to the daylight, at the other end. Tho east windows looked out upon the lime walk, and the light came In softly, green and shadowy, through the silken leaves. She was lying on the sofa, whicii was uot usual with her. As soon as I entered the room she called me to come and sit by her,—and ofcourse sho did not say a word about yesterday. We weut ou talking for an hour and more, about the trees, and the sunset; about what news there was; girls go¬ iug to be married, and babies coming, andothersucb domestio Incidents. And sometimes the conversation would lan¬ guish for a moment, and I did think once there was sometliing strange in ber ej'es, when she looked at me, as if she had something to tell and was look¬ ing into my face to see whether she might or might uot do it. But it nev¬ er went any further; we began to speak of Molly Jackson, and that was au iu- termiuable subject. Molly was a wid¬ ow in the village, aud ahe gave us all a great deal of trouble. She had a quan¬ tity oflittle children, to whom the peo¬ ple on the Green wero very kiud, and she w.is a good-natured soft soul, al¬ ways falling into some scrape or other. This time was the worst of all; itwas wben the talk got up about Thomas Short. People said tliat Molly was go¬ ing to marry him. It would have heen vory foolish for them both, of course. He was poor and he was gettiug old, and would rather have hindered than helped her with her children. AVe gentlefolks may, or may not, be senti¬ mental about our owu concerns ; but we see things in their true light when they take place among our neighbors. As for the two being a comfort to eaoh otber we never entered iuto that ques¬ tion ; there were more importataut mat¬ ters concerned. " I don't know what would become of the poor children," said I. " The man w-ould never put up with them, and indeed it conld not be expected ; aud they have no friends to go to. But I don't think Molly would be so wick¬ ed ; she may be a fool, but she has a mother's lieart." Ladj' Denzil g.ive a faiut smile and turned on her sofa,as if something hurt her; she did not answer me all at once, and as I sat for a miuute silent in that soft obscurity, ]\Iolly Jackson, I ac¬ knowledge, went out of my head. Theu all at onee when Ihad gone on to some¬ thing else, she spoke; and her return to the subject startled me, I could not have told how. " There are diflerent ways of touch¬ ing a mother's Iieart," she said ; " she body there. I believe it was a girl out of the workhouse, who might have been his daughter, and led him a very sad life. But still in respect to Molly it was a relief to our minds. I hope sbe was of tbe same way of thinking. I know for one thing that she lost her temper, tbe only time I ever saw her do it,—and was very indignant about tbe young wife. "Old fool.I"ahe said, and again it-was Thomas that was meant. AVe had a way of talking a good deal about the village folks, and we all did a great deal for them,—per¬ haps, on the whole, we did too much. Wlienany.tt>inKbaj!pe,Bed to be want¬ ing among them. Instead of inaking an effort to get it for themselves, it was always tho ladies on the. Green they came to. And, of course, wc Interfered in our turn. celved, or she deceives herself; and then when it is too late—" " AVhat ia too late ?" said Sir Thomas behind us. He had come in at the great wiudow, aud we iiad not noticed. I thought Ladj' Denzil gave a little atart, but there was uo sign of it in hor face. " AVe were talking of Molly Jackson,' ahe said. " Nothing is ever too late here, thanks to your precise habits, you old soldier. Molly must be talked to, Mrs. Mulgrave," she said, turning to me. "O J-es, she will be talked to," said I; " I know the Hector and his wife have both callotl; and la.-iL time 1 saw her, Mrs. Wood—" " You are uot one ofthe universal ad¬ visers," said Lady Denzil, patting ray arm witll hcr white hand. Itwas no virtue on my part, but she spoke as if she meant it for a compliment. And then we had to tell the wliole story ov¬ er again to Sir Thomas, who was very fond of a little gossip like all the gen¬ tlemen, but had to have everything ex¬ plained to him, aud never knew what was coming uext. He chuckled and laughed as men do over It. " Old fool!" heaaid. " A woman with halfa dozen children." Itwas not Molly hut Thom¬ aa Short that he thought wouhl be fool; and oti our side, it ia true that we had not been thinking of him. Molly Jackson has not much to do with this story, but yet it may be as well to say that she listened to reason, and did not do anything so absurd. . It was a relief to all our minds when Thomas went to live in Langham par¬ ish the spring after, and married some- It was in the spring of the following year tliat little Mary first came to the Lodge. Sir Thomas had been absent for some time, on business. Lady Den¬ zil said, and it was he who brought the' child home. It is all impressed on my inind by the fact that I was there when they arrived. He waa not expected until tho evening, and I had gone to spend an hour with Lady Denzil iu the afternoon. It waa a bright spring day, as warm as summer; one of those sweet surprises that come upon us in England in intervals between the gray east wind aud the rain. The sunshine had called out a perfeot crowd of crocuses along the borders. . They had all blown out quite suddenly, as ifit had been an ac¬ tual voice that oalled them, and God's innocent creatures had rushed forth to answer to their names. And there were heaps of violets about the Lodge which mado the air sweet. And there is something in that first exquisite touch of spring which moves all hearts. Lady Denzil had come out with me to the lawu. I thought she was quieter tban usual, with tbe air of a woman listening for something. Everything was very still, and yet In the suushine one felt as if one could hear tbe buds unfolding, the young grass and leaflets thrilling with their new life. But it did uot seem to me that Lady Denzil was listening to these. I sajd, "Do you expect Sir Thomas now ?" with a kind of vague curiosity; aud she looked in raj' face with a sudden, quick glance of something like suspicion which I could not understand. "Do I look as if I expected some¬ thing?" she said. " Yes—Xexpect some news that probably I shall uot like. But it does not matter, my dear. Itis nothing that alFects me." Shesaid these words with a smile that was rather dreary to see. It was not like Lady Denzil. It was Uke saying, " So long as It does uot affect me you know I don't care,"—which was so far from my opinlonof her. I did uot kuow what to auswer. "Her tone somehow disturbed the spring feeling, and the harmony of the flowers. " I wiah Sir Thomaa had been here on auch a lovely day," she said, after a wbile; "he enjoj-s It ao. Peaco Is very pleasant, my dear, when you are old. Y'ou don't quite appreciate it yet, as we do." And then sbe paused agaiu and seemed to listen, and permitted herself tho faintest little sigh. " I think I am oider thau j'ou. Lady Denzil," I said. Theu she laughed in her natural soft way. " I dare say you are," she said. " Tiiat Is the difiereuce between your restless middle-age and our oldness. Y'ou feel old because you feel young. That's how it is; whereas being really (lid, we can aflbrd to be young again,- sometimes," she added, softly, The last word waa said under iier breath. I don't auppoae alio thought I heard it; but I did, being very quick of hearing, and very foud of her, and feeUng tbere was aomething uuderneath which I did not kuow. Just tlien there came a sound of wheels upon the road, and Lady Den¬ zil started slightly. " You have put it into my head that Sir Thomas might come by the three o'clock train," she said. " It would be about time for It uow." She had scarcely stopped speak¬ ing aud we had just turned towards tho gate, when a carriage entered. I saw at onco it was one of the common flya that are to be had at the station and that It was Sir Thomas who put his 'head out at the window. A momeut after it stopped. He had soen Lady Denzil on the l.iwn. He got out with that slight hesitation which betrays an old man ; and then he turued and lifted something out of the carriage. Tor the first moment one could not tell what it was,—he made a loug stride on to the soft greensward, with his eyes fixed upon Lady Deuzil, and theu he put down the child on tho lawn. "Goto that lady," ho said. For my part, I stood and stared, knowing nothing of the feelings that might lie underneath. The child stood still with her little serious face and looked at us both for a momeut, and then she walked steadily up to Lady Denzil, who had not moved. I was quite unprepared for what fol¬ lowed. Lady Denzil fell down on her knees on the grass—she took the child to her, into her arms, close to her breast. All at once she fell into a passion of tears. And yet that does not express what I saw. It was silent; there were no cries nor sobs, such as a young woman might have uttered. The tears fell as if they had been pent up all her life, as if all her life she had been waiting for this moment; whUe Sir Thoinas stood looking on, half sad, half satisfied. It seemed a revelation to him asit was to me. All this time when she had looked so serene and had been so sweet, had sho been carrying thoae teara iu her heart ? I think that mu.st have been what was passing through Sir Thomas's mind. 1 had stood aud stared, as one does, wben oue ia unex¬ pectedly made the spectator of a crisis in another life. When I came to my¬ self I was ashamed of spying, as It were, upon Lady Denzil's feelings. I hastened away, shaking liands with Sir Tbomas as I passed him. .^nd so entirely was his mind absorbed in tbe scene before him, that I scarcely think lie knew who I was. After this it may be supposed I took a verj' great interest in little Mary. At lirst I was embarrossed and did not quite know what to do,—wiietber I should go back next day aud ask for the child, aud give Lady DenzU an oppor¬ tunity of getting over any confession she might feel at the recollection that I had been present,—or whether I should stay away ; but it turned out that Lady Denzil was not half so sen¬ sitive as I was on the subject. I stayed .away for one whole day thinking about little else,—and the next day 1 went, lest they should think it strange. It seemed quite curious to ine to be re¬ ceived aa if nothing bad happened. There was no appearance of anythiug out of the ordinarj; course. When I went iu Ladj- Denzil held out her hand to rae tis usual without rising from her chair. " What iiaa become of you ?" she said, and made me sit dowu by her, as ahe always did. After we hail talk¬ ed a while she rang the bell. " I have something to show you," she said, smi¬ ling. And then little Mary came in, in herlittle brown Holland overall, as ifit was the most natural thing in the world. She was the most lovelj' child I ever saw. I know when I say this that everybody will immediatoly tiiink of a golden-haired, blue-eyed darling. Butshe was not of tbat description. Her hair was brown,—not dark, but of tho shade which grows dark, with years ; and it was very fine silky hair, not frizzy and rough as Is tbo fashion nowadays. Her eyea were brown, too, ot that tender, wistful kind which are out of fashion like the hair. Every look the child gave was an appeal. There are some children's ej-es that loolc at you with perfect trust, believiug in everybody; and these are sweet eyes. But little Mary's w-ere sweeter still, for they tnid yovi t.l.c belleveU lu you -' Take care of me: be good to mc, —J trust you," was wirat thej- said ; " not everybody, but j'ou." This was the expression in them ; and I never knew anybody w-ho coulil resist that look. Then she iiad the true ohild's beauty of a lovely coraplexion, pure red and white. She came up to mo, and looked at me with tiiose tender serious eyes, and then slid her soft iittle hand Intu mine. Even when I had ceased talking to ber and petting her, siie uever took her eyos away from my face. It was the creature'.s w-ay of judging of the new people among whom she had beeu brought,—for she was only about six, top young to draw iniich jqsight frora words. I waa glad to bend iny head over her, to kias her sweet Uttle face and smooth her pretty bair by way o hiding a certain embarrassment I telt. But I was the only one nf the threo that was embarrassed. Lady Denzil sat and looked at the child with eyes that seemed to run over with content. "She is going to stay with me,and take care of me," she said, witltesmile of absolute happiness ; " are fet you, little Mary?" ' J " Yes, my lady," said the littt thing, turning serious as a judge, to the old lady. I could uot help givindtt Uttle atart as I looked from on^ to the other, and saw the two pairof eyes meet. Lady Denzil was nea • sixty, and little Mary was but six; bit it waa the samo faoe; I felt quite jpnfused after I had made this dlscoverji'and sat silent and hoard tiiem talk Eo each other. Even in the little voifa thero was a certain trill whicii was lIKe Lady Denzil's. Tben the wlip!e sosi-Bpush¬ ed before me. Lady Denzil -on her knees, and her tears pouring foitli and the CbUd clasped in her arms.. What did it mean ? My lady was chi dless,— and even had it been othcrwse, that baby never could have been hd- child, —who was she ? I was so be ciidered and surprised that it took fron me the very power of speech. After this strange iiitroduAlon tlie child settled down as au inmate of the Lodge, and w.is seen and adnlired bj- everybody. And every one dilcovered the resemblance. The ueiglibors on tho Green all found it out, andas tliero was no reasou we knew of, ¦f'hy she should not be Lady Denzil's i-elation, we all stated our opinion plaiily,—ex¬ cept perhaps myself. I had sekn more than the rest, thougii that wa almost nothing. I had a feeUng tl^it thero was an unknown story bcmnth, and somehow I had not the coura-^e to say to Lady Denzil as I sat there aloue with her, aud had her, perhnps, at a disadvantage, " How like the child is to you ! " But other people were not so cowardly. Not long after, two or three of us met at the Lodge, at the hour of afternoon tea, which was an invention of tlie timo wliich Lady Den¬ zil had taken to very kindly. Among the rest was young Mrs. Plymlej', who was not precisely one of ua. She was oue of the Herons of Marshfield, .ind she and her husband bad t.iken AVil- lowbrook for tlie summer. She was a pleasaut little wom.in, butshe wtis foud of talking,—no body could deny that. And she had children of her own, aud made a great fuss over iittle Mary the momentshesaw her. Tho child was too much a little lady to be disagreea¬ ble, but I could see she did not like to be lifted up on a stranger's knee, and admired aud chatted over. -"I wish my Ada was halfas prettj'," Mrs. Plym- leysaid; "but Ada is so like her poor dear papa," and here she protended to sigh. " I am so fond of pretty children. It is hard upon me to have mine so plain. O, you little darlin.';! Blary What? you have only told mo half your name. Ladj- Denzil, one can aee In a moment she belongs to you." Lady Denzil at tho moment was pour¬ ing out tea. AU at once the silver tea¬ pot In her hand seemed to give a jerk, as if it were a living creattjre, and some great big boiling drops fell ou her black dress. It was only for a single second, and she had presence of miud to set it down, and smile aud say sbe was awk¬ ward, and it was nothing. " My arm is alwaysshakj' when I hold anything heavj'," slie said; "ever since I had the rheumatism luit." Thensheturn- ed to Mrs. Plymlej', whose injudicious suggestion we had all forgotten in our fright. Perhaps Ladv Denzil had lost her self-possession a little. Perhaps It was only that sbe thouglit it best to re¬ ply at ouce, so that everybody might hear. "Belongs to me?" shesaid with her clear voice. And somehow we all felt immediately that soniething silly and uncalled for had beeu sjid. " I mean your side of tiie house," said poor Mrs. Plymley, abashed. She was j'Oung and nervous, .ind felt like all the reat of us, tbat she was for the momeut tbe culprit at the bar. She belongs to ueitlior side of the house," said Lady Deuzil. with eveu unnecessarydistiiiotuess. "SirThomas know-s her people, and In his kindness he thought a change would be good for her. She is no—connection ; nothing at ail to us." "O, I am sure I beg your pardon," said Mrs. Plymley; aud she let littie Mary slide down from hcr lap, aud looked very uucomfortabio. None of us indeed were at our ease, for wo bad all beeu saj'ing it in private. Only lit¬ tle Mary, standing in the middle, look¬ ed wistfully round us, questioning, j'et undisturbed. Aud Lady Denzil, too, stood aud looked. At that moment the likeness was stranger tlian ever. " It is verj- droll," sal-AMi-S. D.imerel, the Rector's wife, whoseeyc w.is caught by It, like miue. "She is very liko you. Lady Denzil; I never saw an acci¬ dental likeness so strong." " Poor Uttlo Mary! do you tliink sho is like me? " said Lady Deuzil with a curious quiver in her voice; and ahe bent over tbe child all at ouce and kissed her. Sir Thomas.had been at the other end ofthe room, quite out of hearing. I don't know by what mag¬ netism he couid h.ive known that some¬ thing ogitating was going ou,—I did not even see him approach or look ; but all at once, just as his wife betrayed thatstrangethrlUof feeling. Sir Thomas was at hcr elbow. He touched her arm quite lightly as he stood by her side. " I sliould Uke some tea," he said. She stood up and looked at him for a moment as if she did not under.stand. And then slie turned to liie tea-table with something like a blush of shame on her face. Then ho drew forward a chair and sat down iiy Mrs. Plymley and begau to talk. He was a very good talker when he pleased, and iu two seconds wo had all wandered away to our several subjects, and were in full conversation again. But it was some time before Lady Denzil pt-talt. any part in it. Slie was a long wliilo pouring out Uiose cups of tea. Little Mary, as if inoved by some strange unconscious toucli of sympatliy, stole .away Willi her doll iuto a corner. It was as iftlie two had been raade out of the same materi¬ al anil thrilled to the same touch,—they bolh turued their backs upon us for the moment. I don't suppose anybody but myself noticed tliis; as to be sure it was simply because I had seen the meeting between them, and knew there was something in It more than the ordina¬ ry visit to the parents' fiicnds of a lit¬ tle delicate child. Besides, tbe child never looked like a little visitor; shehad brought no maid with her, and she spoke very rarely of her honie. I don't kuow how sbe might be dressed under thoso brown Holland overalls, but these were tho onlyoutsidegarb sheever wore. I dou't mean to say they were uglj- or want¬ ing iu neatness; tliey were such things as the children at the Rectory wore in summer when they lived in thegardens and tho fields. But they did not look suitable for the atmosphere of tbe Lodge. By and by theae outer garments disap¬ peared. Tlie little creature blossomed out, as it were, out of her lirowu husk, and put forth new flowers. After the first few weeks she .wore nothing but dainty white froeks, rich with needle¬ work. I recognized Lady Denzii'staste in everytliiug she put ou. It was clear that her little wardrobe was being si¬ lently renewed, aud every pretty thing which a child of lier age could fitly wear was being added to it. This could never have been done to a little visitor who had come for change ofair. Then a maid was got for her, whom Lady Denzil w.13 very particular about; ami uo one ever spoke of the time when Ut¬ tle Mary slioulil be going away. By degrees she grew to belong to the place, to be associated with everything in it. AVhen you approached thehouse, wliicli had always been so silent, perhaps it was a burst of sweet childisli laughter that met your ears; perhaps a Uttle soug, or the pleasaut sound ofher little feet ou the gravel In the .sunny lime- walk. The servants were .ill uttorlj' under her swaj'. Thoy spoko of little Miss Mary as they migiit have spoken of a liltle princess wlioae word was law. As for Sir Thomas, I think he was the first subjeet in lier realm. She took to patronizing and ordering him aum.fc bornrc alle had been a mouth at the Lodge. " Sir Thomas," she would say iu her clear little voice," come and walk " i anil the old giinllcinan would get up and go out with her, and hold wonderful cunvei-satlons, as we could see, looking after them from the win¬ dow. Lady Denzil did not seem either to pet her, or to devote heraelf to her, as all the rest of tho house did. But there was sometliing in her face when sbe looked at the child wliich passes descriptiou. It was a sort of ineftable content and satisfaction, as \f sbe had all that heart oould desire and ask no more, Littlo Mary watched her ej'e whenever thej' were together with a curious sympathy more extraordinary still. She seemed to knbw by intuition wheu my lady wauted hor. " 'Es, my lady," lhe child would say, watching with her sweet eyes. It was the only little divergence she made from cor- xcctness of speech, and somehow it ji.leaaed my ear. I suppose she said " My Lady " because Sir Thomas did and that I liked to. To an old lady Uke Lady Denzil it is such a pretty title; I fell into it myself without be¬ ing aware. III. Thns the world went softly on, tUl the roses of Juue had come instead of the spring crocuses. Everything went on softly at the Green. True, there was a tragedy now and then, even among us, Uke that sad affair of Eve¬ rard Stoke; and sometimes a very troublesome complication, going near to break some hearts, like tbat ofNelly Fortis,—but for the most part wo were quiet enough. And- that was a very quiet time. Little Mary had grown the pet of the Green before Juue. The little Damerels, who were nice ohlldren enough, were not to be compared with hor; and then there were so many of tbeui, whereas Mary was all alone like a little star. AVo all petted her,—but she was oue of the children whom it is impossible to spoil. She was never pert or disagreeable, Uke little Agatha Damerel. Sho h.ad her Uttle childish fits of temper by times, but was always sorry and always sweet, with her soft appealing eyes—a little woman, but neverjknowing or forward, like so mauy children nowadays. Sbe was still but a baby, poor darling, not more than seven years old, when tbat dreadful scene broke in ou our quietness whicii I have now to tell. It was June, and there was a large party on the lawu before the Lodge. As long as the season lasted, 'while there were (quantities of people in town, Lady Denzil often had these parties. We were all there of course; everybody ou the Green whom she visited—(and I uaed to be very sorry for Jlrs. AVood and her daugliters when one of them was going to take place). We were in the liabit of meeting continually in the same way, to see the j'oung people play croquet an amuse themselves; and there was perhaps some monotony in it. But Lady Denzil always took care to have some variety. There would be a fiue lady or two from town, bringing with her a whifl" of all the grandeurs and gayeties we had no particular sharo in, and setting an example to the girls In their dress and accessories. I uever was extravagant iu my dress, nor en¬ couraged suoh a tiling,—indeed no lady ever does,-but a real fashionable per¬ fect toilet is generally so complete und charming, and harmonious, that It Is good for one to see uow aud then, espe¬ cially for girls, though of course igno¬ rant persons and men'don't understand why. And then there were a few gen¬ tlemen,—with all the giissips of the clubs, and towu talk, which mado a very pleasant change to us. It was an unusually brilUaut party that daj'.— There was the j-ouug Countess of Berk- hampstead, who was a great beauty and had married so atrangely; people said the Earl was uot very right in his head, and told the oldest stories about hira. Poor thing, I fear she could not help herself,—but she was the loveliest creature Imaginable, and verj' nice tben, though she went wrong after¬ wards. She sat by Lady Denzil's side on the sofa, which was placed just be¬ fore the great bank of roses. It was pretty to see them together: the lovely young lady, with her fits of gayety and pretty languid stiiliiesaes, letting ua all admire her as if she felt what a pleas¬ ure Itwas to us; and the lovely old lady, so sereue, so fair, so kind. I don't know formy part, -n'hlcii -iv.oa tho m- r; beautiful. Tbere were other fine ladies bealdea Lady Berkhampstead. and, as I bave just said, itwas avery brilliant party. There uever was a more glori¬ ous day; the sky was a delight to look- at, and the rich full foliage of the trees clustered out againat the blue, as if thej'leant caressing upon the soft air arouud them. The breatii of tho roses weut everywhere, and behind Lady Denzil's sofa tiiey tlii-ew themselves up into space,—great globes of burning crimsou, and delicate blush, and creamy white. They were .very rich in roses at the Lodge,—I remember one wall quite covered with tbe Gloire de Dijon, —but that is a digression. It was a broad lawu, and left room for several sets of croquet-plaj'ers, besides all the otiier people. The house was ou a high¬ er level at oue side, the grounds aud woods beliind, and in front over tlie ha-ha we had a prettj' glimpse of the Green, where cricltct was being plaj-cd, and the distant houses on the other side. It was like fairj--land, with just a peep of the outer world, by whieh we kept hold upon the fact that we were human, and must trudge away present¬ ly to our little houses. On the grass be¬ fore Lady Denzil little Mai-j' was sit¬ ting, a little white figure, with a brill¬ iant picture-book which somebody had brought her. She was seated sideways, half lacing to Lady Denzil, half to the house, and giving everybody from tirao to tirao a look from her teuder ej'es. Her white frock, which blazed in the sunshine, was the highest light in the picture, as a painter would have said, and gave it a kind of centre. I was not playiug croquet, and tbero came a rao¬ nient when I w-as doing nothing par¬ ticular, and therefore had time to re¬ mark upon tho sceue around me. As I raised my eyos, my attention wtis all at once attracted by a strange figure, quite alien to tlie group below, whicii stood on the approach to the house.— The liouae, as I liave said, was ou a higlier level, and consequently the road which approached it was higher too ou the summit of the bank which sloped down towards the lawn. A wo¬ man stood above gazing at us. At flrst it seemed to me that she was one of the servants : she had a cotton gown ou, and a straw bonnet, and a littlo blucU silk cloak. I could not say that she was shabby or wretched-looking, but her appearance was a strange contrast to the liretty crowd ou tbe lawn. She seemed to have been arrested ou her way to the door by the sound of voices, and stood there looking down upon us, —a strange, tall, threatening figure, which awoke, I could uot tell how, a certain terror in my mind. By degrees It seemed to me that her gaze fixed upon litlle Mary,—and I felt more frightened still; though what could any one have dono to the child with so many anxious protectors looking on? However, peopK wero intent upon their games, or tlieir talks, or their companions, and nobody saw hor but mj'self. At last I got so alarmed that I left my seat to toll Sir Tbomas of her. I bad just made one step towards him, when all at ouce, with a strange cry, the woman darted down the hank. It w.is at little Mary she flew: she rushed down upou her like a tempest, and seized the child, crushing up her pretty wbite frock and Iier little figure violently iu hor arms. I cried out too in my fright,—for I thought she -was raad,—and various people .sprang frora their chairs, one of the last to be roused being Lady Den¬ zil, who was talking very earnestly to Lady Berkhampstead. The woman gavo .1 great, loud, passionate outcry, as she seized upon little Mary. And the chiUl cried out too, oue single word, which iu a moment tranafixed me where I stood, and caught Lady Den¬ zil's ear like the sound of a trumpet, It was a cry almost like a moan, full of terror, and dismay, and repugnance ; and yet It was one of the sweetest words that ever falls on human ears. 'I'he sound stopped everything, even the croquet, and oalled Sir Thomas forward from the other end of the lawn. The one word that Mary uttered, that fllled us all with such horror and con¬ sternation, was " Mamma!" " Y'es, my darling," cried the woman, holding her close, crumpling, even crushing her up in her arms. "They took you from me when I wasn't mj'¬ self! Did i'know where they were go¬ ing to bring you ? Hero! O yes, I see itall BOW. Don't touch my child!— don't interfere with my child!—she sha'n't stay here another day. Her father would curae her if he knew she was liere." " O, pluiwc act IHO do^vn," s.aid little Mary. "O mamma, please don't hurt nie. O, niylady! "cried thepoorchild, appealing to her protectress. Lady Denzil got up tottering aa ahe he.ird this cry. She came forward with every particle of color gone from hor face.— ¦Shewas so agitated her llpscouldscarce- lyforni the words; but she had the courage to lay her hand upou the woiium's arni,— " Set her down," she aaid. " If j-ou havo any claim,—set her down—it sball be seen into. Sir Thomas— Thc stranger turned upon her. Sbe was a woman about five-and-thirty, Ktrong and bold and vigorous. I don't deny she was a liandsome woman. She had big blazing blaok eyes, aud a com¬ plexion perhaps a Uttle heightened by her walk in the heat. She turned upou Lady Denzil, shaking off her hand, crushing Uttle Mary still closer in one arm, and raising the other with a wild theatrical gesture. [CONCLUSION NEXT WEEK.] LEGAL NOTICES. DRY GOODS, &C. ATFDITOU'S NOTICE. | Estate of Mary Breneman, late of Bast Douegal twp., deceased. rilHE undersigned Auditor, appointed to dis- J. tribute the balance remaining In the hands of Jacob S. Herahey, to and among those le¬ gally entitled to the same, will attend for that pnrpose on SATURDAY. MAY .-iOth, 1808, at 10 o'clock, A. M., in the Library Room of the Court House, in the City of Lancaster, where all persons Interested in said distribution may attend. E. D. ROATH, apl 25-4t-23 Andltor. 1868. SPBDr«. 1868. ADSHHriS'l-RATOR'S JfOTICE. Estate of Martin Bahleman, late of Conoy township, deceased. T ETTTERS of administration on sidd estate Xj having been granted to the undei-slgned, all persons indebted thereto are requested to make immediate settlement, and thoso having claims or demands against the same, will pre¬ sent them without delay for settlement to tho undersigned, residlug In said two. JOHN B. EtSEIWOr.E, apl 18-G*t-22 Administrator. AUDITOR'S NOTICE. Estate of John Sweigart, late of AVest Douegal twp., Lancaster eo., dec'd. THEunderslgncd Auditor.appointed to dis¬ tribute the balance remaluttig in the hands of Martin Sweigart and John C. awelgart. Ad¬ ministrators of aaid deceased, to and aniong thoselegally entitled to tiie same, wlll sit for that purpose on SA-ruun.\Y. MAY Otli, 18liS, at 10 o'clock, o. m.. in tlie Court-Houso, lu tho City of Laucn.ster, where all persous interested mayattend. JOHN KOB, apl lii-lWlZ Auditor. OLOTH.% CASSIMEBES ct CLOTlIIXa —AT— n<VOER d: BROTHERS. Fine Black and Colored Cloths. French and Americaa Coatings. Cassimeres for Bult*. ^""""K"- Cashmeretts, Drap de 'Eto, Jeans. 4o. Also. GOODS FOR BOYS' AVEAR. A very large and complete assortment, and Prices as low aa In IStiO. READY-MADE CLOTHING. FINK DEESS SUl'r.s. MEDIUM AND FINE CASSIMERE SUITS. SUITS FOB BOYS. A fnll assortlnontrlif otnrMra mannfaoiure, and gnaranteod to give satisfaction lu PRICE, (lUALITY AND STYLE. HAOEB & BROTHERS. BOOES, STATIONERY, &C AIIIHTOR'S NOTICE. Estate of Abraham Sweigart, late of AVest Donegal twp., Lancastor co., deceased, rnllt: undersigned Auditor, appointed to dls- J. tribute the balanco remaining In tho hands of Jacob Swclgart, Administrator of said de¬ ceased, to and among those legally entitled to the same, will slL for that purpose on S.^TUR- D.-VY, MAY Oth, laiiS, at 10 o'clock, a. m., in thc Court House, in tho City of Lanca-ster, wliere all personsinterested in said distribution raay attend. JOHN KOB, apl lS-U-22 Auditor. i.ai)ie:s' dress «oo»s ! "We invito an examination of NEW SRRINQ DRESS GOODS, Just received. Also, MOURNINO GOODS of Luplu's Manufacture iNCHJDlxrj BOMBAZINHS.TAMIESE, Sir.K POPLINS CANTON crArHS, CIIALWES, POPLIN ALPACAS, MOHAIllS. ic. nL.4.CK AND COLORED SILKS, from Fine to E.-ctra Qualities. HAGER &. BROTIIERS. Books & Staiionery. A Full assortment ofSchool ftnd Miscellane¬ ous Books, Family and Pocket Bibles, con¬ stantly on hund. A LARGE STOCJK OF OOOD STATIONERY. BLANK FORMS OP ALL KINDS, For Lawyers, Conveyancers, Justices of tbe Peace, ic. THE NEW FOUNTAIN PiiS HOLDER, Holds enough ink to write from ono to threo l>ugcsorpaper,securcsauevenllowof luk,and Is adjustable to any pen. JACOBS' PATENT AXUSHNUM PENS. These Pens are elastic, strong, and will not corrode. Thoy arc the most durable steel pens lntho.morj;ot.;':'i...ii-. i.. PATENT COMBINATION ERASER AND ' PENHOLDER, -rills Is a strong-, neat pen holder, furnished with asteel eraser, the holder serving us a caii for tho blade of the eraser, and forma the most convenient pen holder in tho markec. Two sizes—Commercial and Ladies' Pen Holder. KURTS AND MONAGUAN'S CELEBRATED GOLD PE.VS. "We feel no hesitancy in recommending these pens as the b(?st In the market, as .ae havt- been selling them fir a number of years, and have never heard thera spoken of by our cus¬ tomers but in tiie highest terms of praise. For .sale with or without silver cases. Orders respectfully solicited and promptly attendedto. J. H. SHEAFl!-Elt-.-i Clieap Ca.sh Book store. mrlStflS No. .12 N. (iueen St., Lnncaster. Pa. AD.HINISTKATOB'S NOTICE. Estate of Josepii Gochenauer, late of Manor township, deceased. LETTERS of administration ou said estate iiavlng been granted to the undersigned, all persons Indebted thereto aro requested lo make immediate payment, and those having claims or demands against the same will pre¬ sent them without ilelay for Bettlement to tho undersigned, residing insald townsbip. JACOB C. KREADY, apll-Ct*21 Administrator. ^ E.-CECUTORS' NOTICE. Estate of Levi Eekert, late of Leacock township, deeeaaed. LE-ITTERS testamentary on' said estato hav¬ ing been granted to the underslgnod, all persons Indebted therelo aro requestedto make immediate payment, andthose havingclalms or demands .-igalnst tlie same wlll present them witliout delay for aettlement to the undersign¬ ed. ISAAC BAIR, Residing In Leacock twp., WM. WEIDMAN, apll5.i;i»22 Residlug In Upper Leacock twp. AIOUNISTR.VTOBS' NOTICE. Estate of John Emory, late of Bart township, deceased. "r ETTERSof administration on said estate JLihavlng been granted to tho undersigned, aii persous indebted theretoare requested to make immediate settlement, and tboae iiavlng claims or demands against the same will pre¬ sent them forsettleiuent wlthoutdehiy to tlio undersigned. ROBERT BEYER. M.\BY L. B.MORY, opl lfi-Gt-2i Administrators. WAM< PAPEBS! WALL PAPERS 1 WALL PAPlERS! HAGER & BROTHERS are now receiving jSPHINC STYLES FOB 1608. Our Stock will be found comploto, and to comprise a great viirlety of new dcaigUB of plam ond decorative PAPER HANGINGS, . Fine Stamped Out. Satins. Blank &. "Wood Colors, f.ir PARL<5rS, HALLS, DINING R0O.MS i CHAMBERS. Also. DECORATIVE PAPEBS in Marble, Frescoes, Oak, Walnut, Bosewood, &c. The most complete assortment over olTered In Lancuster, aud will be sold at less thau Phliadelpliia prlees. Call and examiuc. BAQEU & BROTilKItS. bi<a:\k books. DAA-. BOOKS, CASII BOOKS, JOURNAr.S, LEDGERS P.iS3:B00K.S, MEMORANDUMS, DIARIES, CABPE'I-SI ENGUSH BRUSSELS, EKGLISH TAPESTRY', IMPERIAL. THREE-PLY. TAPESTBA', IN- GBAIN. EXTRA AND SUPERi-'lNB IN- . GR.-VIN, THHEE-PLY & PL.\IN VENE¬ TIAN, WOOLDUTCIt, COTTAGE, HEMP &. RAG CARPETS, of H.VBTFORD Jt LOWELL, and best Pliila¬ delphia makes. PL COR OIL CLOTHS, from oue to four yards wide. COCOA t CANTON MATTINGS, RUGS, DOOR MATS, &e. We now offer avery full and completestock; and at vei-y low prices. HAGER &. BROTHERS. " WRITiNa PAPERS. FOOLSC^VP AND LETTER PAPER, ENVELOPES AND STATIONERY, BLiVNK DEEDS, JTJSflCES BLANKS, At lowest rates, at Bookstore of JOHN BAER'S SOXS, No. 10 North Qneen Street, .Ianl5-tf9 Lancastor EXBOUTORV NO-riCE. Estate of Peter Gara, late of tlie Bor ough of Strtisburg, dec'd. y ETTERSTestamonlai-J'on said estato baV; Xilog heen granted to tlie undersigued, all Eersons Indebted thereto aro requested^ mmediate paymeut, and tliose haviii, ersons Indebted thereto aro requesteil tu make ^mediate paymeut, and tliose having claims demands against the same will present them witiiout dela.v for sottlement to the im- derslgned, residing In Paradise township. .lOHN KANIJK. JACOB DENLINGER, niar-Jd-G-t-10 Executor. AD.mNlSlCKATOIlS- NOTICE. Estate of Peter Bruner, late of AA''ar- wlclf twp., deceased. T ETTERS of administration on .said ostate JLi having been granted to the undersigned ail pcrsons Indebted thereto, are requested to tnalco Immediate payment and those hnving clalmsor demaudsagainsL tlie same, will pro. seut thom wilhout delay for settlement to tho uudersigned. ELIAS BRUNER, Warwick twp., JACOB H.SfllRii, Warwick twp., MICHAEL H. SHIRK, W. Cocalic-o twp., mar ai-li«t-19 Administrators. -IDMINIS-rRATOR'ti NO-flCE. Estate of Christian Demmy, late of Manheim twp., deceased. . f ETTEHS of ndininislratlon on said Estate WINDOW SH.iDESI WINDOW SIIAnE.S HAGER i BROTHERS have now in Store a choice Selection of TV IND O W SUA DBS, to whicii thpy iuvito attention. Also, ail wldthsorWHITE, BUFF i GBEEN SU.-VDE HOLLAND.S. Xjhavlng been granted to the uudersigned, .all fiersons indebtod theretoare requested to raake mmedlato payment, and thoso having claims Biickeutlcrrcr «& Shant;, NO. 29 NORTH QUEEN 3T. WE would respectfully call the attention ot purchasers to our line Stock of AA'INTEE & SPPvING DRY GOOD?, Consisting of ALPACAS, POPLINS. JIERI- NOs, WOOL DK L.-ilNES, PLAID ALP.'\.CAH, WOOL I'LAID.-?, MOHAIltS SILKS. liALMO- 1L.\L3. SIL.VWL.-i. BLANKErs. FLANNi-JLS, CLOTHS & CASSIMERES, for Men and Boys' v,-enr, CALICOES, llIUSLINS, TfCKlNGS, CHECKS, SHIRTING STRIPES, CAN-rON PLANNBiA, SHIRTS i DRAWEES, COUNTERPANES, GINGHAMS, AVOOL SHIRTINGS, COTTON i LINEN 'TABLE DIAPERS, AVOOLEN YAKNS, OIL CLOTHS, OIL i PAPER SHADES, 1- GLOVES, HOSIERY, SUSPENDERS, FANOY Baskets, BUCKSKIN GLOA'liS, 4c. ALSO, aflne assortment of CORSETS. STcw Boohs ! iVew Books! AMONG which are somo from the P.VRIS EXPosrrioN. BIBLES, Prayer aud Hymu Books of all de- nouilnations. POETS in Blue anrt Gold, io. ANNUAIA ¦\\T11TING DESKS. WORK BOXES, JEWELRY BOXES, lEGENCY iSeSIC'^, LADIES' COaPANIONS. DRESSING CASES, POKT FOLIOS, ALBU.MS, NEW GAMES, AUTOGKAPif BOOKS, CHESSJIEN & BOARDS. BACKGAMMON BO.\RDS, ENGLISH TOY BOOKS. MOVABLE TOY BOOKS, LINEN BOOKS, SWISS BUILDING BLOCKS, UNION COLLEGEBLOCKS, JACKSTRAWS. JERSEY BOiLdING BLOCK.S, PICTUBK BLOCKS, ABC BLOCKS, TRANSPAB&T SLATES, GOLD PENS. SHELL BOXES, PurKE-r Bililffs, MAGIC L.VNTERNS. Please call and examine at J. il. \VESTnAEFFEF.-3 Cheap Book Storo, No. 41, corner of Norlh Queen and uruuge sta., Lancaster.Pa. [decM-i:'-J ordemands'agalnst the same will preseiit them for settloment to the undersigned, residing in said townshin. IIENBY H KURTZ, Juii^l-Ot-lil Administrator. E.-SECUTOB-S NOTICE. Estateof Auna Maria Roth, Lite of Rapho twp.', deceased. LETTERS testamentarj' on said estato hav¬ ing been gnintcd to tlie undersigned, aii fiersons Indebted tlioreto are requested to make mmediutc settlement, and those having claims ordemandsagainst the same, wlil pre¬ sent tbom without delay to the undersigned, residing In said township. IIENRY H. FAUS, mar-2.')-6V*iy Executor. ADSIINISTlt.VrOB'S NOTICE. Estate of Elizabeth Landis, lateofEtist Lampeter twp., dec'd. LETTERS of administration on said estate having iiccn granted to thc uudersigned, alt persons indebtea tlicreto aro requested to m.ilce immediate payment, aud thoschavlngclatins ordemands against tiiesaiue will present thom witiiout dolay for settlement to tlio under¬ signed,resldlugiu. West Lampeter twn. mar 2i-c«t-19 DAVID LAN'DIS (Millert, Administrator. B.VNURIII'X NOTICE. In the District Court of the-) Uniied States, for the east- V Tn Bankruptcy. cru District of Peun'a. I At Laxcastek, the Slst day of AprU, IStiS. TO whom itmay concern: Tlie undersigned hereby gives notice of hlsappolntment as Assignee of Benjamin F. Haldeman. of the borough of Columbia, in thocountyof Lancas¬ ter, and Stato of Pennsylvania, within said District w-ho has been adjudged a Bankrupt upon his own petition by tho District Court of said district. D. G. ESHLEMAN, Assignee, apl 2-2-3*1-23 30 North Duko St., Lancaster. u.vMi.utJiri- auuvi;. Tn the District Court of the-J United statos. for the Eust- ^ Tn Bankruptcj'. ern District of Penn'a. ) At LASClSTEK, April 13,1803. TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN: Thc under¬ signed hereby gives notice of his appoint¬ ment as .\ssignec of Robert J. ICing, of the city of Lancuster, and State ofPennsylvanla. with¬ in thesald district, who has heen adludged a bankrupt upon his own petition bythe District Court of said Dislrict. DANIEL G. BAKER, Assignee, No. 21 Norlh Dnke street, Lancaster, opl 15 St-2-2 BANKBUPT NOTICE. In tlio District Court of tiie1 United states, for tho East'n Mn Bankruptcy. Districtof Pennsylvania. J At Laxcaster, April 11, ISGS. TOWHOM IT MAY CONCERN.-Tlie under¬ signed hereby gives notico of his appoint¬ ment as Assignee of Johu S. Landis, of the town.sliip of Manor, in tbe County ofLancaster, In the .state of Pennsylvania, within said Dis¬ trict, who has been adjudged aBankrupL upon his own petition, by the District Court of sai d diBtrlct. D. (i. ESHIJ!:.\IAN. Assignee, apl 15-.",t«"22 311 North Doke St., Lancaster. B.VNKHUPT NOTICE. Tn the District Court of the-) UnitedStates for tho East'n >In Bankruotcy. District of Peunsylvauia. .) At LANC.\STEn, the 9th day of April, ISCS. rno WHOJI IT MAY' CONCERN.—Tho uililer- X slgued hereby gives notice of ills appoint¬ ment as assignee of Ellas Wblsler. of the town¬ shipof Eiust Uouegal, in the countyofLaneas- terundState of Penn.sytvaula,wltliiasaiil dis¬ trict, who has been adjudged a Bankrupt uijon ills own petition by the District Court of said district. D. G. ESHLEMAN, Assignee, apU-:««l 1)0 North Duke st... Lancaster. EDW. BLICKENDERFER. oet 12 A.Ay.SHAUB; 7m-l~ Tlie liOwcst Prices Yet. MOOSEKEEPERa, ATTENTION 1 D0JIE3TIC GOODS AT OLD PRICES ! TICKINGS, CHECIiS, , SllEETTNGS! SHIRTINGS, BLEACHED it. UNBLEACHED MUSLINS! CALICOES ! CALICOES I! OIL CLOTHS AND CARPETS! Receut large purcho-scs iiiuiljlc us to uffer - , <-.^jr , GREAT 'BABGAINS ' --'--il IN AIX KT^^)S OF HOUSEKEEPING OOODS. Now Is tho time for HOUSETIRES. WENTZ BROTHEllS, No. 5 EasI Kiu<; Street, Sign, or the Bee Hive. NOTICE IN nAXKUUPTCY. U. S. Marshars Office, E. D. of Penn'a, 1 Phi lad el phiii, April 11, ISOS. j rriHIS IS TO GIVE NOTICE: That on the 4th 1 day of April, A. D. ISCS. ii Warrant In Uanlcruntcy wa.s Lssucd against tlie estate of Henry WoIfT, ot tho horouKli of Sliirlcttu, in the county of Lancaster nnd Stato of Pennaylvania, who haa heen :nJjudged a llanl:- rupton hts own petition; that the payment ofany debts and rtellvery of any property hc- longiug to Huch Bankrupt, to hlm or for lil.s use, and the transfer of auy property hy him are forbidden by law; that a meeting of the creditors of the .saitl Bankrupt, to prove their debts, and tochooijooneor moro assif^nces of his estate, wltl be held nt u Court of Bank¬ ruptcy to bo holden at the olhceof tho Regi.s¬ ter, No. 0 South Queen street, in the city of Lancaster, Pa., heiore A. Slaymaker, esq., Re¬ gister, on the 3yth dayof Al*RIL, A, D. ItWS, at lOo'clock., a. m. P. C. ELL^IAKKR, apll-"t 21 V. 3. Marshal, as Jlcsseni^er. SPRIBTK. 186S. SPKIWO. GREAT REDUCTION IST 1>«Y OOOJOBf TUST opened a splendid slock of NEW GOODS, Consisting oftho following:—a fnll lino of the best MUSLINS, such as the New York Mills, Wamasutta, Willlamsville, Forcstdaie, Hope, Blackstoncic; bythe yard or piece, ol the lowest JIarket ratea. BLE.\CHED ..iND UNBLE.\CHED SHIRT¬ INGS Jt BILLOW CASE MUSLINS, CHE.VT, TICKS, ¦ CHECKS, TABLE, LINEN & COTTON DLA.PER, NAPKINS, TOWELTNG, ia, WOOLEN Jt COTTON FLANNELS, A FCLt. LirfE OF M.VIISEILLES QUILTS. BLANKETS A COVERLET.^ .SHAWLS, &e.; I'L.IIN iC- FANCY LRBSS GOODS! ALPACAS, DELAINES, GlNGtlAMs; if. PRINTS AT 6;ii-, So, lUc, host at I'i'y'... CLOTHS, C.\.SSIStEKE.S, VESTING.?, which wo mako up at astonlshli ? low: prices, aud at short uutlcc. A Full Line of NOTIONS, SUCH AS GT.X)VF,S, HOSE, NECK-TIES, GENTLEJIEN'S .'i.ND LADIES' HANDKER- CHIEFd, COLLARS! BALMORALS, noop-siaRTS, ic. iCS* CaU and examine my stocic holore pur¬ chasing elsewhere. JOHN D. SKILES, Comer of East King nnd Duko strcehi, adjoin¬ ing Jonathan SDrccher'i; Hotel. DIARIES FOR 1SC81 DIARIES FOU IBOS DIARIES FOK 18G8 ! -pv LVRIES FOR I8«9.—Alarpc varietyof styles l_f and sizes, containing; C'alendar, Rates oi Postage, complete table of Stamp Duties, Enis- lable Tablet Memoranda, Cash Account and Summary, Jtc; also Pocket Book form, largo and sniall. J. JI. WESTIL\EFFER'S Cheap Book Store, No. It. Corner of North Queen and Orauge sts Speer's Port Grape Wine. Used by Hunilreils of Congreg<itions for Churcli or Communion Purposes. ALSO, Exeellent for Ladies aud Weakly Persons to use. VINEYARDS, NEW JERSEY. SPEER'S PORT GR.\PE WINTl, FOUB YEiVRS OLD. This instly celebrated native Wine Is mode from the J ulce of tho Oporto Grape, raised lu this couutry. Tts invaluable foNIC AND STRENGTHENING PROPERTIES are uusur- passed by any other native VIuc. Being tho Suro jnlce of the grape, produced under Sir. peer's own personal supervision, its purity and genuineness are guaranteed. The young¬ est clilld may partake of its generousqualltles, and the weakest inv.-ilid may use it to advau¬ tago. It Is particularly heucadal to the aged and dobilltated, anUsuitea to tho various ail¬ ments that aflllct the weaker sex. It Is, lu every respect, A ^VTNE TO BE RELIED ON. Tuvalids use Speer's Port Gmpe Vine. Females use Speer's Port Grape Vine. Weakly Persons flnd a Beneflt by its Use. Speer's Wiues In Hospitals aro preferred lo other WIURS. Sold by Drngglsts and Grocers. A. Speer's Vineyard, New Jersey. Offlce.No. 2iy Broadway, New York. The trado supplieil by JOHNSON. HALLO- WAY IS. COWDEN, and FRENCH, KIC'U- ARDS i CO., n Philadelphia. sept H-IJ7 ls-i3 TO faruers: THE AJIERIC.VN PORTABLE FIELD AND FLOOD FENCE, THE SIMPLEST. THE MOST DURABLE. THE MOST PORTABLE. FT is fltted tor Lovel or Rolling Gronnd. It la Leaslly constructed, and cheap. It makes the most regular.fenco of rails, and Is the best .-sub¬ stitute for Post and Rail aud Worm F<-ncea yet discovered. The Patonteo ha.s generously tammSTr C'oiiftfmijffe'VMframVflK ti'..""= mentAl Association, and all thoso who V7lsh to ¦assist a patriotic pnriiose, nnd at the same time receive value fortheir money, ean dn so by calling at thu Court Hou.se. In Lancaster city, where they can see a specimen of* ttiis fcucp. aud procure farm rights at inoderalo prices. Apply to the undersigned at the Pro- thonotary^s office. Court llouse, Lancaster, or at the ollico ofMaj. A.C. Reluoehl. sep7-tf-j2 ' W. L. BEAR. ROOFIXO SEiATE. PRICES REDUCED TO SUIT THE TIJIES. rnHE uudersigned having constantly on hana i a full supply of Lancaster and York count' ROOFING SL.\TE OF THE BBST QU.ALlTlEvJ which he IsBelllngatreducedprices,and which will be put ou by the square, or sold by the ton, ou tho inostreasonableternis. .tlso.constnnt- ly on hand, an extra light Peach Hottom Slate, in tended for Slating on sliliij;led Roofs. Iiaving In my employ tlio best Shilcrs In the market—all work will bo warraiilcj to be exo- cuted In the best manner. As these qualities of Slate are the best in tlie mtirket. Builders and others wlll llnd Itto their interest tocall and examine at tny Agricultural & Seed Wnre- rooms,No.23,E:astKlngSt., twodoorswest of the Court Houso. Juu i-'CS-tf-T GEO. D. SPRECHER. BOOTS Alf» .^HOES T^ORtho best Boot.t, ro to Jc , BUENi:.\LV>r3,W.KingSlre&t For tbe lieat Women's Shoes, go to BitENESlAX^S, W. King Stroot For the best Children's Shoes, go to BRENKM^VN'S, W.Klng Street^ For the raost comfortablo-flt. ko to BRI::NEM^VN'S, W. KlngStreet, For work that will not rip, po to BRENE.MA>-'ti, \V. King Stroet, For Boots that -will not let In water, co to BRENEMAN'S, W. King Street, All In want of Boots and Shoes, co to BUENEilAN'S, W. king Street. Everybody In tho country go to BRENEMAN'S, Opposite Cooper's Hotel. HmSOluVTION OF PAK-rXEKSmi', THE partnership heretofore existing between J. II. Oro.ss and Jacob .S. Sharp, doing busi¬ ness under thc-Ilrin of Gross & Sliarp, lias thin daj-boen tll.'i.soU'cd hy mutual conHont. The accounts will ho .settled up hy J. II. Gross, at the old stand where he eimllnufis Ilie business. JNO. U, GROSS. El'llKATA, .'Vpril ;J, ISGS. apl 15-^1-22 S>ISSOI.1JTIO^' OF rAllTNEILSHIS*. TIIE Fartnershi p heretofore existing between LAUSER & \VALTER, doing a mercantile business In BrlckerviUe, Lancaster county, Pa.,-wa-s dissolved hy mutual consent, Janu¬ ary 8, ISCS. All persona having claims will please present lheni to James E, Donley, re¬ maining at the old Ktand, and those knowing Ihemselves indebted will also pay to him. LAUSER <t WALTER. TIIE busine.ss will ho continuod at the old sUind in IJrickervillc. Lanc'r co.. Pa., by— IjAUser a strohm. apr 22 3t*:£J STRAY BUI.I,, A RED ROAN BULL, about 2}.<i years old' came to tho premises of tho nnderalgned, inStrasburg township, about 'Z miles soath- east from the borough of Strasburg, Lancaster county, on Friday the 3d of Aprii, 18«j. The owner is requetited to como forward, prove property, pay charges and. talce blm away, or he win be disposed of nccording to law. JACOB FX4AtJD. AprU 13,'08. Ztr^ OP NEW AND KLT^OANT SPRINO DRY GOODS!! AT TIIE NEW STORE, Coruer of North Queen and Orange Streets. A NICE assortment of all kinds of Foreign and Domestic BEY GOO BS , .V which are to bo sold cheap. Ploaso esill nnd examlL " "' '" ¦ —-- •—•-— "»"-¦- whore. examino our Stocic before' purchasing ehse- Pei«oxal.—Having secured llie services of a well known and experienced, tailor, parllcu¬ lar attention will be paid to . GENTS' AND BOYS' CLOTHING. BABOAINS IX SUITS ! anll-tf-20 ABRA.M SCHEETZ. MANUFACTURER OP SPIOVEL, FORK, HOE, BROOM, AND ALL KINDS OT ASH HANDLES. filonufiictnrer of BEST HICKORY HAND NEAR STRASBURG, Also, RAKES, DAVIS' Medicated Cronp l40zcngo CONTAINS all tho medicinal substance-'? that enter into the composition of tho UlCOUP SYRUP.^ so muuli used througboutall our Northern and Atlantic States. The CROUP LOZENGE i.s nota secret nos¬ trum, neitlier is It u new, untried, medlclni', but Is a combination of those remedial agenls (In a. now form) which time and experienco have proved most eilectual In thc cure of Croup, Colds. Cougbs, Iniluenza, and tho liko inllamntatory aUuctions of tliu Tliroat and Lungs. - Onegreat advantage oI)taIned in preparlnK thcOROUPSYKUPlnthoformofaLOZENGb" is thatevery ftuiillymuy havc the best remedy constantly on hand, in ib state that will not ferment or becomo mouldy Ity age. A second advantnifc gained isthe easo of ad¬ ministering the Lo;;engc to children. Evcri-hox warranted toKlveperfectsatisfac- tlon, when taken accordtng to directions, which accompauy each bo.x. Prepared by A. S. DAVIS, Chelsea, Ma-ss. Forsale by CH.\RLE.S A. HEINITSH, Apothecary, No. 13, Eaat King streeL A. HERSHEY & BRO., GordonviUe, Pa., DEALERS In all klndsof Dry Goods, Gro¬ ceries, Hardware. Qui-en-sware. Hats, Capu, Boots, Shoes, Wiiito Lead, Oils, Drugs. Mish¬ ler's Bitters, <£c. CLOTHINO MADE TO ORDER, Assortment large and prices low. Call aud see and you will be pleased. GOODS purchased when prices aro low. LANCASTER CO., PA 1^ All orders addressed to Btrasburg P. o.. Pr., will bo promptly attended to. lan 25 ' 3m"10 Ifo, for Tirginia Z RICH Farms and other Land* at one-fourth theh: value. Address, with stamp enclosed, J. M. MH^UlB, apl l-3*t-30 Box 253, Harrisburg, Pa.
Object Description
Title | Lancaster Examiner and Herald |
Masthead | Lancaster Examiner and Herald |
Volume | 42 |
Issue | 24 |
Subject | Newspapers--Pennsylvania--Lancaster County |
Description | The Lancaster Examiner and Herald was published weekly in Lancaster, Pa., during the middle years of the nineteenth century. By digitizing the years 1834-1872, patrons are provided with a view of politics and events of this tumultuous period from a liberal political slant, providing balance to the more conservative perspective of the Intelligencer-Journal, which was recently digitized by Penn State. |
Publisher | Hamersly & Richards |
Place of Publication | Lancaster, Pa. |
Date | 1868-05-02 |
Location Covered | Lancaster County (Pa.) |
Type | Text |
Original Format | Newspapers |
Digital Format | image/tiff |
Language | English |
Rights | http://rightsstatements.org/vocab/NoC-US/1.0/ |
Contact | For information on source and images, contact LancasterHistory, Attn: Library Services, 230 N. President Ave., Lancaster, PA, 17603. Phone: 717-392-4633, ext. 126. Email: research@lancasterhistory.org |
Contributing Institution | LancasterHistory |
Sponsorship | This Digital Object is provided in a collection that is included in POWER Library: Pennsylvania Photos and Documents, which is funded by the Office of Commonwealth Libraries of Pennsylvania/Pennsylvania Department of Education. |
Month | 05 |
Day | 02 |
Year | 1868 |
Description
Title | Lancaster Examiner and Herald |
Masthead | Lancaster Examiner and Herald |
Volume | 42 |
Issue | 24 |
Subject | Newspapers--Pennsylvania--Lancaster County |
Description | The Lancaster Examiner and Herald was published weekly in Lancaster, Pa., during the middle years of the nineteenth century. By digitizing the years 1834-1872, patrons are provided with a view of politics and events of this tumultuous period from a liberal political slant, providing balance to the more conservative perspective of the Intelligencer-Journal, which was recently digitized by Penn State. |
Publisher | Hamersly & Richards |
Place of Publication | Lancaster, Pa. |
Date | 1868-05-02 |
Location Covered | Lancaster County (Pa.) |
Type | Text |
Original Format | Newspapers |
Digital Format | image/tiff |
Digital Specifications | Image was scanned by OCLC at the Preservation Service Center in Bethlehem, PA. Archival Image is a 1-bit bitonal tiff that was scanned from microfilm at 300 dpi. The original file size was 974 kilobytes. |
Language | English |
Rights | http://rightsstatements.org/vocab/NoC-US/1.0/ |
Contact | For information on source and images, contact LancasterHistory, Attn: Library Services, 230 N. President Ave., Lancaster, PA, 17603. Phone: 717-392-4633, ext. 126. Email: research@lancasterhistory.org |
Contributing Institution | LancasterHistory |
Sponsorship | This Digital Object is provided in a collection that is included in POWER Library: Pennsylvania Photos and Documents, which is funded by the Office of Commonwealth Libraries of Pennsylvania/Pennsylvania Department of Education. |
Month | 05 |
Day | 02 |
Year | 1868 |
Page | 1 |
Resource Identifier | 18680502_001.tif |
Full Text |
TOL XLII
LANCASTER, PA. SATURDAY, MAY 2, 1868.
nxAlrmnEB' & sEvt-Aist.
FUBLISEES EVEBS 8AHJBDAT. . At Ho. 4 Horth Quoon stroot, lanoaater, Pa. TE1I3IB-S3.00 A ^-EAB IX AlfVAXCE.
- JSO. A.-HUHTAKD 4 E. M, KEINB,
Editors and Proprietors.
BESEAVEMENI AKD COHSOLATION.
It is not in the parllng liour, when tliose -we
fondly love. Have hreatUed to us their Inat farewell, and
-wingetl their way above; Noryet.-wiiBnia the darlcsDine grave we lay
themto tlielr rest. The sharpest pane of sorrow rends the strlcK-
eu mouiers hreaiit.
'Tis ^vllen we seek our lonely homo, aud meet
no more to smile "Which could the darkest cloud dispel, and
every care beguile; And when we meotaroiiuathe hoard, or atthe
hourof prayer, 'Tis then Ihe heart mosts feels its lo.-iS~the
loved oues are uot there.
And thu-?. while days and months steal ou, as
lacmory brings to view ¦ The i-irtion of departed Joys, our grlof Isstirred
anew; Though faith may own a Father's hand, yet
nature will rebel. Aud feel howhard Itls to sav, "He hath doue
all things well."
O mournful iuem(uics of the past! ye wear our
lives away f Vo haunt us In our dreams by night, and thro
each weary day; The home which late like Edeu's bower, in
blooming beauty smiled, Vemakcabaneu wilderne.-is, a de.sert waslo
aud wild.
liut why thus yield to fniltle.ss grief? are they
not happier far-J The .-^intet^oties for whom wc mourn, than
Ihose who linger here? Our hearts should glow- with grateful love to
Him whose watchful eye Paw dangers gathering round their path, nnd
culled Ihem to the sky. Xot long .Ihall we their losa deplore, for soon
toe-hour will eome When we, with those so fondly loved, shall
slumber in tho tomb; -Then let tiie remnant of our daya be lo liis ser¬ vico giveu.. . IVIitt hill ottr Idols in the grave, icst ive ultoitlil ffiil
of Heaven. Xot willingly the I..oi-d alllicts, norgricvc-^tlie
soul ofmen; -Tis but to wciui our souls from earth, aud
break tbo power of sin; lie saw- us wandering from His paths, aud sent
theehastcniugl-od 'i'o lurn our feet from error-s way, nud bring
us liomo to uod..
Shall we defeat his w-l.se design, and w-asto our
days in tears, I'ngralcful for the numerousgift-ilhatlleavon
111 mercy spares-; l.»t faith and liope ho cherished still, and
hrlghtcr days shall dawn. And plants 01 penes shall spring anew from
seeds of sorrow .sown..
lABY DEKZIL.
Tho BeiizilH wore lhe chief peoiile at Diiiglclielil Green. Their house waa liy umcli the most coiiaiilerable-looliitig lioti.se, niid thegioiiiiils were beautiful. X .suy the most coiisidei-able-lookiiiir, foi- uiy own impression is that Dinglowootl, which was afterwarils bought by thc stoelcbi-olier whose coming convulsed the whole Ureeu, was in reality larger (lian the Lodge; but the Lodge, when Sir Thomas Denzil was in it, wasall the same the centre of everything. It w.-iislikeAVinilsor Castle to ns neigh¬ bors, or perhaps in reality it was more wlmt her Jtajo.sty's act-jal royal habita¬ tion is to tlie dwellers within her castle gates. We wero the poor kniglits, the canons, the musical and ecclesiastical peopie who cluster about that mingled stronghold of the State and Cliurch,— imt to the Lodge was it giveu to bestow distinction upon ua. Tliose of us who visited Lady -Benzil entered into all the privileges of rank; those who did not receive that honor fell into tbe cold .shade,—aud avei-y uucomfortable sliade it must htive been. I speak, you will say, at my ease; fur my people bad known the Denzils ages before, and Sir Tiiomas raost kindly seut his wife to call, almost before I had settled down into ray cottage; but I remember how verysoreJIrs. Woodfeltaboutit, though it surprised me at the time. " I have beon here five years, and havometthem everywliere; but she bas never found the way to my door. Kot that I .care iu tbe least," she said, with a flush on her cheek. She was a clergyman's widow, and very sensitive about her "position," poor tiling,—and almost found fault with me, as if I was to blame tor having known the Denzils in my youth.
Lady Denzil, who had so much weight among us, was a very gmall personage. She would liavo beeu tiny aud insiz- nitlcant Uad sho not been so stately and imposing. I don't know how she did it. She was not far from sixty at the time I speak of. Whatever tbe fashion was, she always wore long llowiugdressea wliich swept tlie ground for ayard behind her, and cloaks ample and graceful: always large, alw.ay3 full, and always made of blaek silk. Even in wiuter, though ber carriage would be piled witb lieaps of furs, sbe wore npon lier little majestic person nothing but silk. Such silk!—you should have touched it to know wbat it was. The very sound of it, as it rustled softly after her over the summer lawn or the winter carpet, waa totally difTerent from I thefrolement of ordinary robes. Some people said she had it made for lierself express at Lj'ons. I don't know how that might be, but I know I never saw anything like it. I believe she had every variety in her wardrobe that lieart of woman could desire; Indian sliawls wortii a fortune I Icnoiv were among hcr jiosse.ssions; but she never wore anything but that matchless silk, —long dresses of it, and long, large ample cloaks to correspond. Her hair was quite white, like silver. She lind tlie brightest dark eyes shining out from under brows whicii were curved aud lined as finely as when slie was eigliteen. Hor color was as fresh as a ¦rose. I think there never was a more lovely old lady. Eighteen, indeed ! It has its charms, tbat ple.isant age. It is .sweet to the eye, especially of man. Perhaps a woman, who hits oftenest to lecture the creature, instead of falling down to worship, may not seo so well thc witchery which lies in the period ; but flnil me any face of eighteen that could match Lady Denzil's. It had wrinkles, yes; ,but tlieso were crossed by lines of tbought, and lighted up by that soft breath of c.Kperieuce anil for¬ bearance which comes ouiy with the years. Lady Denzil's ej'es saw things that other eyes conld not see. She knew bj' instinct when things were amiss. You could tell it by the nliari- luble absence of all questioning, by a <:alm taking for grauted the most un¬ likely explanations. Some people snp- ))Osed they deceived her, but they never iteceived her. And aome people spoke of her e-xtraorilinary insight, amf eyes that could see through a millstone. I believe her eyes were clear; but it was experience, only experience,—long know-ledge of the world, acquainttiiice with herselfand human nature, and all the chances that befall ua on our way through this life. That it wa.s, and not auy mere intuition or sharp¬ ness, that put insiglit into Lady Den¬ zil's eyes.
Tlie curious thing, however, w.is that she had never had any troubles of her own. She had lived with Sir Tbomas in tiie Lotlge since a period dating far beyond mj- kuowletlgc. It was a thing whicli was uever mentioned among us, chiefly, I have no doubt, because of her beautiful manners and stately look, though it came to be spoken of after¬ wards, as sueh thinga will; but the truth is tiiat nobody knew very clearly who Lady Den-/.il w-as. Sir Thomas's first wife was from Lancashire, of one of the best old fuinilies in the county, and itwas not au unusual thing for uew comei-s to get confused about this, and identify tlie present Lady Denzil with her predecessor; but 1 am not aware that any one really knew the rights of it or could tell who shewas. I have heard the mistake made, aud I remember distinctly the gracious and unsatisfactory w-ay with which she-put it aside. " Tlie first Lady Denzil was a Lancashire woman," slie said : " she v.'as one of the Tuustalls of Abbotts- Tutistall, and a very beautiful and charming jierson." Tliis was all; she did not add, as anybody else would have done, Loauishire or Blauksliire is my eouuty. II w-as very unsatisfactory : but it was fine all the same,—and closed everybody's mouth. There were always some connectious on the Denzil side stoying at tbe Lodge in the end of the year. Nothing could be kinder than Bhe waa to all Sir Tliomas's young con¬ nections. But nobody belonging to Lady Denzil was ever seen among na. I don't think it was remaritod at tbe time, but it came to be noted after- warcis, and itcertainly was very atrange. I never s.aw more perfect devotion than that which Sir Thomas showed to his wife. He was about teu years old¬ er than she.^a Iiale, handsome old man, nearly seventy.' Had he been twenty- five and she eighteen he could not have beep, more teuder, more careful of her. .Often iave J looked at her and wonder¬ ed, with the peaceful life she led, with the love and reverence and tender care
whi6h surrounded her, how she had everoome to know the darker side of life; and underatand other people's feel¬ ings. No trouble seemed ever to have come to her. She put dowu her dainty little foot only to walk over soft car¬ pets or through bright gardens; she never went anywhere where those long silken robes might not sweep, safo even from the summer dust, which all the¬ reat of us have to brave by times. Lady Denzil never braved It. I have seen her sometimes—very seldom-with her dress gathered up in her arms in great biilQw-3, on the sheltered sunny-line walfc-whiclr -trw-.onr. one slda^^-thoi Lodge, taking a little gentle exercise ; but this was quite an unusual circum¬ stance, and meant that the roads were too heavj' or too slippery for her lior¬ ses. On theserareoccasionsSirThomas would be at her side, like a courtly old gallant as he was. He was as de- ferenti.il to his wife as if sbe had been a princess and he dependent on her fa¬ vor, and at tbe same time there was a grace of old love iu hia reverence whic U was like a poem. It was a curious Ut¬ tle Paradise that one looked Into over the ha-ha across the verdant lawna that encircled the Lodge. The two were old and childless, and sometimes solitary ; but I dou't think, though they opened their house liberally to kith, kin, and connections, that they ever felt less lonely than when they were alone. Two, where the two are oue, is enough. To be sure the tft-o in Eden were young. Yet it does but con¬ fer a certain tender pathos upon that companionship wheu they are old. I tliought of tlie purest romance I knew, of the softest creations of poetry, when I nsed to see old Sir Thomas iu the line-w-alk w-itli liis old wife.
Uut I am sorry she had not called on poor Mrs. Wood. It would have been of real consequence to that good woman if Lady Denzil had called. She was only a clei-gyman's tvidow, and a cler¬ gj'man's widow may be anything, aa everybody knows: she maj- be suoh a pei-son ns will be an acquisition any- w-here, or she may be quile the reverse. It was because Mrs. Wooii belonged to the indefinite cl.-is.-! that Lady Denzil's visit would have been of such uso. Her position w-as doubtful, jioor aoul. She was very i-eaiiectable and very good in her way, aud her daugliters were nice girls, but there was nothing iu them¬ selves individually to raise thein out of mediocrity. I took the liberty to say so one day wlieir I was at the Lodge, but Ladj'Denzil did not see it, some¬ how; and what could I do? Andon theother hand, it w-as gall and worm¬ wood to poor Mrs. Wood every time she saw the carriage with the two hays stop at my door.
"I saw Laily Denzil here to-d.aj'," sho would s;ij'. " You ought to feel J'ourself honored. I must any I don't see why people should give in to her so. In my poor husband's time the .Duchess never came into the parish without calling. It need uot be auy object to me to be noticed bj- a bit of a baro¬ net's wife."
" Ko, indeed!" said I, being a cow¬ ard aud afraid to staud to my guns; " I am sure it is not worth j'our while.— And slie is old, poor iadj',—and I am an old friend,—and indeed I dou't know what Lady Denzil professes to visit," I went oil faltering, w-ith a seuse of get¬ ting deeiier and deeper into the mud.
" O, pray don't aay so to spare mj- feelings," said JMia. Wood, with asperi- tj'. " It is nothing to me wliether she calls or not, butyou must know, Mrs. Mulgrave, that Lady Denzil does make a point of calling on every one she thiuks worth her while. I amsureshe is quite at liberty to do as slie pleases so far as I am concerned." Here shostop- ped aud relieved herself, drawing a long breath and fauning with her handker¬ chief her cheeks whicii were crimaon. " But ifl were to say I w.-is connected with the peerage, or to talk about the titled people I do know," she added, tvith a look of spite, "she would very soon find out where I lived: O trust her for that! "
"I think J'OU must Iiave takeu up a mistaken idea," I said meekly. I had not courage enough to stand up in my friend's defence. Not that I am exact¬ ly a coward by uature, but I knew that Mrs. Wood was a dangerous person to deal with ; and I w.is sorry in the pres¬ ent instance, and felt that the griev¬ ance waa a real one. " I don't think Lady Denzil cares very much about the peerage. She is an old woman and has her fancies, I suppose."
" O, you are a favorite! " aaid Mrs. AVood, tossing her head, as if it was my fault. " Y''ou have tho entree, aud we are spiteful who are left out, j'ou know," she added with pretended play¬ fulness. It was a very afTeoted littte laugh, however; to whicii she gave ut¬ terance, .and her cheek flamed crimson. I was very sorry,—I did not kuow what to say to make things smooth again.- Ifl had beeu Lady Denzil's keeper I should have taken her to call at Bose Cottage next day. But I was not Lady Denzil's keeper. It was great kindness ofher to visit rae; how could I force her against her will to visit other peo¬ ple ? A woman of Mrs. Wood's age, who surely could not have got so far through the world without a little un¬ derstanding of how things are man¬ aged, ought to have known that it could do hcr very little good to quarrel with rae.
Aud thon tbe girls would come to me when tliere was anything going on at tbe Lodge. " We met tlie iSIiss Llew¬ ellyns the other day," Adelaide saidou oneoccasiou. " AVe thought them very nice. Thej' are staying with Lady Denzil, you know. I wisli you would make Lady Denzil call on mamma, Mrs. Mulgrave. It is so liard to come aud settle ill a pl.-ice and be shut out from all the best parties. Until you have been at the Lodge you are consid¬ ered nobodv on the Green."
" Tlie Lodge oan't make us diirerent from w-hat we aro,"said Nora, tlieother sister, who w-as of a diflerent temper.— "Ishould be ashamed to think it mat¬ tered w-hctlier Laily Denzil called or not.!'
" But it does matter agi-eatdeal when they are going to give a ball," said Ade¬ laide, very solemnlj'. "Thebest halls going, some ofthe officera told me; and everybody will be there,-except Nora and me," said thc poor girl. " O, Mrs. Mulgrave, I wish you tvould make Lady Denzil call! "
" But, my dear, I can't m.-iko Lady Den-iil do anvthing," I said ; "I have no power over her. Slie comes to see me sometimes, but we are not-intimate, ami I have no influence. She comes becauae mj' people knew the Denzils long ago. Sho has her own ways. I could not make her do one thing or an¬ other. It is wrong to speak so to me." " But J'OU could if J'OU would trj'," said Adelaide: as she spoke, we would hear the souud of tlie croquet balls from the Lodge, and voices aud laughter.— Wo were all three walking along the road, under shelter of tbe trees. Sbe gave snch a wistful look wben she heai'd them, that it went to ray lieart. It waa not a very serious trouble, it is true. But still, to feel one's solf shut out from anything, ia hard when oue is tweutj'. I had to hurrj- past tlie gate, to restrain tlie inclination I had to brave everything, and take thein in witll me, as my friends, to join tlie cro¬ quet party. I kuew very well what would have happened had I done so.- Ladj- Denzil.would liave been perfectly aweet and gracious, and sent them away delighted withher; butshewould never have crossed mj' threshold again. And wh.1t good would that have done them? The faot -n-as, they had nothing partic¬ ular to recommend them; no special qualities of tbeir own to make up for their want of birth and couueetlon : and this beiug the ease, whatoould any oue say ?
It gave one a very difTerent impres¬ sion of Laily Denzil, to see how she be¬ haved when poor Mrs. Stoke was iu sucb trouble about her youngest boy. I had heen with her calling, and Mra. Stoke had told ua a whole long story about him: how good-hearted he waa, and how generous, spending his monej' upon everybodj'. It was a very hard matter for me to keep my countenance, for of course I knew Everard Stoke, and what kind of a hoy he was. But Lady Denzil took It all with the great¬ est attention and sympathy. I could not but speak ofit when we came out. "Poor Mrs. Stoke!" said I; "it is strange bow she can deceive herself 30,—and she must have known we knew better. Y'ou who have seen poor Everard grow up. Lady Denzil-"
" Yes, my dear," ahe said, " you are right; andyet, do you know, I think youare wrong too ? She is not deceived. She knows a great deal better than we do. But then she is on the otiier side of tho sceno, and she sees into the boy's heart a little. I hope she sees into his heart."
"I fear it is a very bad heart: I should not think it was any pleasure to
look into it," said I, iu my baste. Lady Denzil gave me a soft, half-reproachful look. " Well," she said, and gave a sigh, " it has always been one of my great fancies, that God was more mer¬ ciful than man, becauae He saw iully what was iu all our hearts. AVhat we meant, poor creatures that we are, not what we did. We never have any con - fidence In Him for tbat. We think He will forgive and save, but we don't think He'understands, and sees every¬ thing, and knows that uothiu" is so bad as it aeema. Perhapa it ia a dangerous doctrine; at least the vloar would think SOt-Efear."-- .--..:....--. c-z^..:-. t— " In the case of Everard Stoke," said I, stupidly, coining back to the start¬ ing-point.
"Mydear," said Lady Deuzil, with a little impatience, "the older one grows, the less one feels inclined to judge any one. Indeed whon one grows quite old," sbe went ou after a pause, smiling a little, as if it were at the thought that she, whom no doubt she could remember so thoughtless aud young, ivas quite old, " one comes to judge not at all. Poor Everard, he never was a good hoy,—but I dare say his mother knows him best, and he is better than is thought."
" At least it was a comfort to her to see J-ou look as if you believed her," said I, uot quite entering iuto the argu¬ ment. Lady Denzil took no notloe of this speech. It was a beautiful bright d.iy, aud it was but a step from Mra. Stoke'a cottage to the Lodge gates, which wo -n-ere just about entering. But at that moment tliere was a little party of soldiers marching along the high-road, at right angles from where we stood. It Is not far from the Green to the barracks, and their red coats were uot uncommon features in tho landscape. Tiiese men, however, were marching in a busiuess-Hke way, not lingering on the road, and among tliem was a man iu a shooting-coat, hand¬ cuffed, poor fellow. It was a deserter they were taking back to the punish¬ ment th.it awaited him. I made some meaningless exclamations or other, .and stood still, looking after them for a moment. Then I suppose my interest failed, as they wenton, at their rapid, steady pace, turning their backs upon us. I came back to Lady Denzil as It were; but when I looked at her, there was something in her face that struck me with the deepest wonder. She had not come back to me. .She was stand¬ ing absorbed, watching them ; the color all gone out of her soft old cheek.s, and the saddest wistful, longing gaze in her eyes. Itwas not pity,—it was some¬ thing miglitier, more intense. She did uot breathe or iuove, but stood gazing, gazing after them. AVIien they had disappeared, sbe camo to herself; her liands, whicli had beeu cl.isped tightly, fell loose at her sides; she gave a lone, deep sigh, aud then she became coil- seious of my eyea upon her, and the color eame hack wilh a rush to her face.
" I am ahvaya interested about sol¬ diers," she said falntlj', turning as slie spoke to open the gate. That was all the notice she took of it. But the in¬ cident struck me more than my ac¬ count of It maj' seem tojustifj'. Ifsuch a thing had been possible as that the deserter could have been her husband or her brother, one could have under¬ stood it. Had I seen such a look on Mra. Stoke's face, I should have known it was Everard. But here was Ladj' Denzil, u contented childless woman, witliout unj'body to disturb lier peace. Sympathy must indeed have become perfect, before sucb a wistfuluesa could come into any woman's eyes.
Often siuce I have recalled thai scene to my mind and wondered over it; tbe quick march of the soldiers on the road; the mail In the midst wilb death envi¬ roning him all round, aud most likely despair iu hia heart and tliat one face looking ou, wistful aa love, sad as death,—and yet with uo cauae either for her aadness or her love. It did not last long. It is true; hut it was one of the strangest scenes I ever witnessed in my life.
It even appeared to me next day as if Lady Deuzil had been alittle shaken, either by her visit to Mrs. Stoke, or hy this strange little episode which nobody kuew of. She had takeu to me, which I confess Ifelt as a great compliment. And Sir Thomas came to ask me to go to her next afternoon. " My lady- has a headache," bc said jn a quaint way be had of speaking of her: I think he would have liked to call her roy qneen or my princess. AVhen he said " my lady" there was something chivalrie, something romantic in his very tone. When I weut iuto the drawing-room at the Lodge lhe great greeu blind was drawn over the window on tlie west side, and the trees gave the same green efiiict to the daylight, at the other end. Tho east windows looked out upon the lime walk, and the light came In softly, green and shadowy, through the silken leaves. She was lying on the sofa, whicii was uot usual with her. As soon as I entered the room she called me to come and sit by her,—and ofcourse sho did not say a word about yesterday. We weut ou talking for an hour and more, about the trees, and the sunset; about what news there was; girls go¬ iug to be married, and babies coming, andothersucb domestio Incidents. And sometimes the conversation would lan¬ guish for a moment, and I did think once there was sometliing strange in ber ej'es, when she looked at me, as if she had something to tell and was look¬ ing into my face to see whether she might or might uot do it. But it nev¬ er went any further; we began to speak of Molly Jackson, and that was au iu- termiuable subject. Molly was a wid¬ ow in the village, aud ahe gave us all a great deal of trouble. She had a quan¬ tity oflittle children, to whom the peo¬ ple on the Green wero very kiud, and she w.is a good-natured soft soul, al¬ ways falling into some scrape or other. This time was the worst of all; itwas wben the talk got up about Thomas Short. People said tliat Molly was go¬ ing to marry him. It would have heen vory foolish for them both, of course. He was poor and he was gettiug old, and would rather have hindered than helped her with her children. AVe gentlefolks may, or may not, be senti¬ mental about our owu concerns ; but we see things in their true light when they take place among our neighbors. As for the two being a comfort to eaoh otber we never entered iuto that ques¬ tion ; there were more importataut mat¬ ters concerned.
" I don't know what would become of the poor children," said I. " The man w-ould never put up with them, and indeed it conld not be expected ; aud they have no friends to go to. But I don't think Molly would be so wick¬ ed ; she may be a fool, but she has a mother's lieart."
Ladj' Denzil g.ive a faiut smile and turned on her sofa,as if something hurt her; she did not answer me all at once, and as I sat for a miuute silent in that soft obscurity, ]\Iolly Jackson, I ac¬ knowledge, went out of my head. Theu all at onee when Ihad gone on to some¬ thing else, she spoke; and her return to the subject startled me, I could not have told how.
" There are diflerent ways of touch¬ ing a mother's Iieart," she said ; " she
body there. I believe it was a girl out of the workhouse, who might have been his daughter, and led him a very sad life. But still in respect to Molly it was a relief to our minds. I hope sbe was of tbe same way of thinking. I know for one thing that she lost her temper, tbe only time I ever saw her do it,—and was very indignant about tbe young wife. "Old fool.I"ahe said, and again it-was Thomas that was meant. AVe had a way of talking a good deal about the village folks, and we all did a great deal for them,—per¬ haps, on the whole, we did too much. Wlienany.tt>inKbaj!pe,Bed to be want¬ ing among them. Instead of inaking an effort to get it for themselves, it was always tho ladies on the. Green they came to. And, of course, wc Interfered in our turn.
celved, or she deceives herself; and then when it is too late—"
" AVhat ia too late ?" said Sir Thomas behind us. He had come in at the great wiudow, aud we iiad not noticed. I thought Ladj' Denzil gave a little atart, but there was uo sign of it in hor face. " AVe were talking of Molly Jackson,' ahe said. " Nothing is ever too late here, thanks to your precise habits, you old soldier. Molly must be talked to, Mrs. Mulgrave," she said, turning to me.
"O J-es, she will be talked to," said I; " I know the Hector and his wife have both callotl; and la.-iL time 1 saw her, Mrs. Wood—"
" You are uot one ofthe universal ad¬ visers," said Lady Denzil, patting ray arm witll hcr white hand. Itwas no virtue on my part, but she spoke as if she meant it for a compliment. And then we had to tell the wliole story ov¬ er again to Sir Thomas, who was very fond of a little gossip like all the gen¬ tlemen, but had to have everything ex¬ plained to him, aud never knew what was coming uext. He chuckled and laughed as men do over It. " Old fool!" heaaid. " A woman with halfa dozen children." Itwas not Molly hut Thom¬ aa Short that he thought wouhl be fool; and oti our side, it ia true that we had not been thinking of him.
Molly Jackson has not much to do with this story, but yet it may be as well to say that she listened to reason, and did not do anything so absurd. . It was a relief to all our minds when Thomas went to live in Langham par¬ ish the spring after, and married some-
It was in the spring of the following year tliat little Mary first came to the Lodge. Sir Thomas had been absent for some time, on business. Lady Den¬ zil said, and it was he who brought the' child home. It is all impressed on my inind by the fact that I was there when they arrived. He waa not expected until tho evening, and I had gone to spend an hour with Lady Denzil iu the afternoon. It waa a bright spring day, as warm as summer; one of those sweet surprises that come upon us in England in intervals between the gray east wind aud the rain. The sunshine had called out a perfeot crowd of crocuses along the borders. . They had all blown out quite suddenly, as ifit had been an ac¬ tual voice that oalled them, and God's innocent creatures had rushed forth to answer to their names. And there were heaps of violets about the Lodge which mado the air sweet. And there is something in that first exquisite touch of spring which moves all hearts. Lady Denzil had come out with me to the lawu. I thought she was quieter tban usual, with tbe air of a woman listening for something. Everything was very still, and yet In the suushine one felt as if one could hear tbe buds unfolding, the young grass and leaflets thrilling with their new life. But it did uot seem to me that Lady Denzil was listening to these. I sajd, "Do you expect Sir Thomas now ?" with a kind of vague curiosity; aud she looked in raj' face with a sudden, quick glance of something like suspicion which I could not understand.
"Do I look as if I expected some¬ thing?" she said. " Yes—Xexpect some news that probably I shall uot like. But it does not matter, my dear. Itis nothing that alFects me."
Shesaid these words with a smile that was rather dreary to see. It was not like Lady Denzil. It was Uke saying, " So long as It does uot affect me you know I don't care,"—which was so far from my opinlonof her. I did uot kuow what to auswer. "Her tone somehow disturbed the spring feeling, and the harmony of the flowers.
" I wiah Sir Thomaa had been here on auch a lovely day," she said, after a wbile; "he enjoj-s It ao. Peaco Is very pleasant, my dear, when you are old. Y'ou don't quite appreciate it yet, as we do." And then sbe paused agaiu and seemed to listen, and permitted herself tho faintest little sigh.
" I think I am oider thau j'ou. Lady Denzil," I said.
Theu she laughed in her natural soft way. " I dare say you are," she said. " Tiiat Is the difiereuce between your restless middle-age and our oldness. Y'ou feel old because you feel young. That's how it is; whereas being really (lid, we can aflbrd to be young again,- sometimes," she added, softly, The last word waa said under iier breath. I don't auppoae alio thought I heard it; but I did, being very quick of hearing, and very foud of her, and feeUng tbere was aomething uuderneath which I did not kuow.
Just tlien there came a sound of wheels upon the road, and Lady Den¬ zil started slightly. " You have put it into my head that Sir Thomas might come by the three o'clock train," she said. " It would be about time for It uow." She had scarcely stopped speak¬ ing aud we had just turned towards tho gate, when a carriage entered. I saw at onco it was one of the common flya that are to be had at the station and that It was Sir Thomas who put his 'head out at the window. A momeut after it stopped. He had soen Lady Denzil on the l.iwn. He got out with that slight hesitation which betrays an old man ; and then he turued and lifted something out of the carriage. Tor the first moment one could not tell what it was,—he made a loug stride on to the soft greensward, with his eyes fixed upon Lady Deuzil, and theu he put down the child on tho lawn. "Goto that lady," ho said. For my part, I stood and stared, knowing nothing of the feelings that might lie underneath. The child stood still with her little serious face and looked at us both for a momeut, and then she walked steadily up to Lady Denzil, who had not moved. I was quite unprepared for what fol¬ lowed. Lady Denzil fell down on her knees on the grass—she took the child to her, into her arms, close to her breast. All at once she fell into a passion of tears. And yet that does not express what I saw. It was silent; there were no cries nor sobs, such as a young woman might have uttered. The tears fell as if they had been pent up all her life, as if all her life she had been waiting for this moment; whUe Sir Thoinas stood looking on, half sad, half satisfied. It seemed a revelation to him asit was to me. All this time when she had looked so serene and had been so sweet, had sho been carrying thoae teara iu her heart ? I think that mu.st have been what was passing through Sir Thomas's mind. 1 had stood aud stared, as one does, wben oue ia unex¬ pectedly made the spectator of a crisis in another life. When I came to my¬ self I was ashamed of spying, as It were, upon Lady Denzil's feelings. I hastened away, shaking liands with Sir Tbomas as I passed him. .^nd so entirely was his mind absorbed in tbe scene before him, that I scarcely think lie knew who I was.
After this it may be supposed I took a verj' great interest in little Mary. At lirst I was embarrossed and did not quite know what to do,—wiietber I should go back next day aud ask for the child, aud give Lady DenzU an oppor¬ tunity of getting over any confession she might feel at the recollection that I had been present,—or whether I should stay away ; but it turned out that Lady Denzil was not half so sen¬ sitive as I was on the subject. I stayed .away for one whole day thinking about little else,—and the next day 1 went, lest they should think it strange. It seemed quite curious to ine to be re¬ ceived aa if nothing bad happened. There was no appearance of anythiug out of the ordinarj; course. When I went iu Ladj- Denzil held out her hand to rae tis usual without rising from her chair. " What iiaa become of you ?" she said, and made me sit dowu by her, as ahe always did. After we hail talk¬ ed a while she rang the bell. " I have something to show you," she said, smi¬ ling. And then little Mary came in, in herlittle brown Holland overall, as ifit was the most natural thing in the world. She was the most lovelj' child I ever saw. I know when I say this that everybody will immediatoly tiiink of a golden-haired, blue-eyed darling. Butshe was not of tbat description. Her hair was brown,—not dark, but of tho shade which grows dark, with years ; and it was very fine silky hair, not frizzy and rough as Is tbo fashion nowadays. Her eyea were brown, too, ot that tender, wistful kind which are out of fashion like the hair. Every look the child gave was an appeal. There are some children's ej-es that loolc at you with perfect trust, believiug in everybody; and these are sweet eyes. But little Mary's w-ere sweeter still, for they tnid yovi t.l.c belleveU lu you -' Take care of me: be good to mc, —J trust you," was wirat thej- said ; " not everybody, but j'ou." This was the expression in them ; and I never knew anybody w-ho coulil resist that look. Then she iiad the true ohild's beauty of a lovely coraplexion, pure red and white. She came up to mo, and looked at me with tiiose tender serious eyes, and then slid her soft iittle hand Intu mine. Even when I had ceased talking to ber and petting her, siie uever took her eyos away from my face. It was the creature'.s w-ay of judging of the new people among whom she had beeu brought,—for she was only about six, top young to draw iniich jqsight frora words. I waa glad to bend iny head over her, to kias her sweet Uttle face and smooth her pretty bair by way o hiding a certain embarrassment I telt. But I was the only one nf the threo that was embarrassed. Lady Denzil sat and looked at the child with eyes that seemed to run over with content. "She is going to stay with me,and
take care of me," she said, witltesmile of absolute happiness ; " are fet you, little Mary?" ' J
" Yes, my lady," said the littt thing, turning serious as a judge, to the old lady. I could uot help givindtt Uttle atart as I looked from on^ to the other, and saw the two pairof eyes meet. Lady Denzil was nea • sixty, and little Mary was but six; bit it waa the samo faoe; I felt quite jpnfused after I had made this dlscoverji'and sat silent and hoard tiiem talk Eo each other. Even in the little voifa thero was a certain trill whicii was lIKe Lady Denzil's. Tben the wlip!e sosi-Bpush¬ ed before me. Lady Denzil -on her knees, and her tears pouring foitli and the CbUd clasped in her arms.. What did it mean ? My lady was chi dless,— and even had it been othcrwse, that baby never could have been hd- child, —who was she ? I was so be ciidered and surprised that it took fron me the very power of speech.
After this strange iiitroduAlon tlie child settled down as au inmate of the Lodge, and w.is seen and adnlired bj- everybody. And every one dilcovered the resemblance. The ueiglibors on tho Green all found it out, andas tliero was no reasou we knew of, ¦f'hy she should not be Lady Denzil's i-elation, we all stated our opinion plaiily,—ex¬ cept perhaps myself. I had sekn more than the rest, thougii that wa almost nothing. I had a feeUng tl^it thero was an unknown story bcmnth, and somehow I had not the coura-^e to say to Lady Denzil as I sat there aloue with her, aud had her, perhnps, at a disadvantage, " How like the child is to you ! " But other people were not so cowardly. Not long after, two or three of us met at the Lodge, at the hour of afternoon tea, which was an invention of tlie timo wliich Lady Den¬ zil had taken to very kindly. Among the rest was young Mrs. Plymlej', who was not precisely one of ua. She was oue of the Herons of Marshfield, .ind she and her husband bad t.iken AVil- lowbrook for tlie summer. She was a pleasaut little wom.in, butshe wtis foud of talking,—no body could deny that. And she had children of her own, aud made a great fuss over iittle Mary the momentshesaw her. Tho child was too much a little lady to be disagreea¬ ble, but I could see she did not like to be lifted up on a stranger's knee, and admired aud chatted over. -"I wish my Ada was halfas prettj'," Mrs. Plym- leysaid; "but Ada is so like her poor dear papa," and here she protended to sigh. " I am so fond of pretty children. It is hard upon me to have mine so plain. O, you little darlin.';! Blary What? you have only told mo half your name. Ladj- Denzil, one can aee In a moment she belongs to you."
Lady Denzil at tho moment was pour¬ ing out tea. AU at once the silver tea¬ pot In her hand seemed to give a jerk, as if it were a living creattjre, and some great big boiling drops fell ou her black dress. It was only for a single second, and she had presence of miud to set it down, and smile aud say sbe was awk¬ ward, and it was nothing. " My arm is alwaysshakj' when I hold anything heavj'," slie said; "ever since I had the rheumatism luit." Thensheturn- ed to Mrs. Plymlej', whose injudicious suggestion we had all forgotten in our fright. Perhaps Ladv Denzil had lost her self-possession a little. Perhaps It was only that sbe thouglit it best to re¬ ply at ouce, so that everybody might hear. "Belongs to me?" shesaid with her clear voice. And somehow we all felt immediately that soniething silly and uncalled for had beeu sjid.
" I mean your side of tiie house," said poor Mrs. Plymley, abashed. She was j'Oung and nervous, .ind felt like all the reat of us, tbat she was for the momeut tbe culprit at the bar.
She belongs to ueitlior side of the house," said Lady Deuzil. with eveu unnecessarydistiiiotuess. "SirThomas know-s her people, and In his kindness he thought a change would be good for her. She is no—connection ; nothing at ail to us."
"O, I am sure I beg your pardon," said Mrs. Plymley; aud she let littie Mary slide down from hcr lap, aud looked very uucomfortabio. None of us indeed were at our ease, for wo bad all beeu saj'ing it in private. Only lit¬ tle Mary, standing in the middle, look¬ ed wistfully round us, questioning, j'et undisturbed. Aud Lady Denzil, too, stood aud looked. At that moment the likeness was stranger tlian ever.
" It is verj- droll," sal-AMi-S. D.imerel, the Rector's wife, whoseeyc w.is caught by It, like miue. "She is very liko you. Lady Denzil; I never saw an acci¬ dental likeness so strong."
" Poor Uttlo Mary! do you tliink sho is like me? " said Lady Deuzil with a curious quiver in her voice; and ahe bent over tbe child all at ouce and kissed her. Sir Thomas.had been at the other end ofthe room, quite out of hearing. I don't know by what mag¬ netism he couid h.ive known that some¬ thing ogitating was going ou,—I did not even see him approach or look ; but all at once, just as his wife betrayed thatstrangethrlUof feeling. Sir Thomas was at hcr elbow. He touched her arm quite lightly as he stood by her side. " I sliould Uke some tea," he said. She stood up and looked at him for a moment as if she did not under.stand. And then slie turned to liie tea-table with something like a blush of shame on her face. Then ho drew forward a chair and sat down iiy Mrs. Plymley and begau to talk. He was a very good talker when he pleased, and iu two seconds wo had all wandered away to our several subjects, and were in full conversation again. But it was some time before Lady Denzil pt-talt. any part in it. Slie was a long wliilo pouring out Uiose cups of tea. Little Mary, as if inoved by some strange unconscious toucli of sympatliy, stole .away Willi her doll iuto a corner. It was as iftlie two had been raade out of the same materi¬ al anil thrilled to the same touch,—they bolh turued their backs upon us for the moment. I don't suppose anybody but myself noticed tliis; as to be sure it was simply because I had seen the meeting between them, and knew there was something in It more than the ordina¬ ry visit to the parents' fiicnds of a lit¬ tle delicate child.
Besides, tbe child never looked like a little visitor; shehad brought no maid with her, and she spoke very rarely of her honie. I don't kuow how sbe might be dressed under thoso brown Holland overalls, but these were tho onlyoutsidegarb sheever wore. I dou't mean to say they were uglj- or want¬ ing iu neatness; tliey were such things as the children at the Rectory wore in summer when they lived in thegardens and tho fields. But they did not look suitable for the atmosphere of tbe Lodge. By and by theae outer garments disap¬ peared. Tlie little creature blossomed out, as it were, out of her lirowu husk, and put forth new flowers. After the first few weeks she .wore nothing but dainty white froeks, rich with needle¬ work. I recognized Lady Denzii'staste in everytliiug she put ou. It was clear that her little wardrobe was being si¬ lently renewed, aud every pretty thing which a child of lier age could fitly wear was being added to it. This could never have been done to a little visitor who had come for change ofair. Then a maid was got for her, whom Lady Denzil w.13 very particular about; ami uo one ever spoke of the time when Ut¬ tle Mary slioulil be going away. By degrees she grew to belong to the place, to be associated with everything in it. AVhen you approached thehouse, wliicli had always been so silent, perhaps it was a burst of sweet childisli laughter that met your ears; perhaps a Uttle soug, or the pleasaut sound ofher little feet ou the gravel In the .sunny lime- walk. The servants were .ill uttorlj' under her swaj'. Thoy spoko of little Miss Mary as they migiit have spoken of a liltle princess wlioae word was law. As for Sir Thomas, I think he was the first subjeet in lier realm. She took to patronizing and ordering him aum.fc bornrc alle had been a mouth at the Lodge. " Sir Thomas," she would say iu her clear little voice," come and walk " i anil the old giinllcinan would get up and go out with her, and hold wonderful cunvei-satlons, as we could see, looking after them from the win¬ dow. Lady Denzil did not seem either to pet her, or to devote heraelf to her, as all the rest of tho house did. But there was sometliing in her face when sbe looked at the child wliich passes descriptiou. It was a sort of ineftable content and satisfaction, as \f sbe had all that heart oould desire and ask no more, Littlo Mary watched her ej'e whenever thej' were together with a curious sympathy more extraordinary still. She seemed to knbw by intuition wheu my lady wauted hor. " 'Es, my lady," lhe child would say, watching with her sweet eyes. It was the only little divergence she made from cor- xcctness of speech, and somehow it ji.leaaed my ear. I suppose she said
" My Lady " because Sir Thomas did and that I liked to. To an old lady Uke Lady Denzil it is such a pretty title; I fell into it myself without be¬ ing aware.
III. Thns the world went softly on, tUl the roses of Juue had come instead of the spring crocuses. Everything went on softly at the Green. True, there was a tragedy now and then, even among us, Uke that sad affair of Eve¬ rard Stoke; and sometimes a very troublesome complication, going near to break some hearts, like tbat ofNelly Fortis,—but for the most part wo were quiet enough. And- that was a very quiet time. Little Mary had grown the pet of the Green before Juue. The little Damerels, who were nice ohlldren enough, were not to be compared with hor; and then there were so many of tbeui, whereas Mary was all alone like a little star. AVo all petted her,—but she was oue of the children whom it is impossible to spoil. She was never pert or disagreeable, Uke little Agatha Damerel. Sho h.ad her Uttle childish fits of temper by times, but was always sorry and always sweet, with her soft appealing eyes—a little woman, but neverjknowing or forward, like so mauy children nowadays. Sbe was still but a baby, poor darling, not more than seven years old, when tbat dreadful scene broke in ou our quietness whicii I have now to tell.
It was June, and there was a large party on the lawu before the Lodge. As long as the season lasted, 'while there were (quantities of people in town, Lady Denzil often had these parties. We were all there of course; everybody ou the Green whom she visited—(and I uaed to be very sorry for Jlrs. AVood and her daugliters when one of them was going to take place). We were in the liabit of meeting continually in the same way, to see the j'oung people play croquet an amuse themselves; and there was perhaps some monotony in it. But Lady Denzil always took care to have some variety. There would be a fiue lady or two from town, bringing with her a whifl" of all the grandeurs and gayeties we had no particular sharo in, and setting an example to the girls In their dress and accessories. I uever was extravagant iu my dress, nor en¬ couraged suoh a tiling,—indeed no lady ever does,-but a real fashionable per¬ fect toilet is generally so complete und charming, and harmonious, that It Is good for one to see uow aud then, espe¬ cially for girls, though of course igno¬ rant persons and men'don't understand why. And then there were a few gen¬ tlemen,—with all the giissips of the clubs, and towu talk, which mado a very pleasant change to us. It was an unusually brilUaut party that daj'.— There was the j-ouug Countess of Berk- hampstead, who was a great beauty and had married so atrangely; people said the Earl was uot very right in his head, and told the oldest stories about hira. Poor thing, I fear she could not help herself,—but she was the loveliest creature Imaginable, and verj' nice tben, though she went wrong after¬ wards. She sat by Lady Denzil's side on the sofa, which was placed just be¬ fore the great bank of roses. It was pretty to see them together: the lovely young lady, with her fits of gayety and pretty languid stiiliiesaes, letting ua all admire her as if she felt what a pleas¬ ure Itwas to us; and the lovely old lady, so sereue, so fair, so kind. I don't know formy part, -n'hlcii -iv.oa tho m- r; beautiful. Tbere were other fine ladies bealdea Lady Berkhampstead. and, as I bave just said, itwas avery brilliant party. There uever was a more glori¬ ous day; the sky was a delight to look- at, and the rich full foliage of the trees clustered out againat the blue, as if thej'leant caressing upon the soft air arouud them. The breatii of tho roses weut everywhere, and behind Lady Denzil's sofa tiiey tlii-ew themselves up into space,—great globes of burning crimsou, and delicate blush, and creamy white. They were .very rich in roses at the Lodge,—I remember one wall quite covered with tbe Gloire de Dijon, —but that is a digression. It was a broad lawu, and left room for several sets of croquet-plaj'ers, besides all the otiier people. The house was ou a high¬ er level at oue side, the grounds aud woods beliind, and in front over tlie ha-ha we had a prettj' glimpse of the Green, where cricltct was being plaj-cd, and the distant houses on the other side. It was like fairj--land, with just a peep of the outer world, by whieh we kept hold upon the fact that we were human, and must trudge away present¬ ly to our little houses. On the grass be¬ fore Lady Denzil little Mai-j' was sit¬ ting, a little white figure, with a brill¬ iant picture-book which somebody had brought her. She was seated sideways, half lacing to Lady Denzil, half to the house, and giving everybody from tirao to tirao a look from her teuder ej'es. Her white frock, which blazed in the sunshine, was the highest light in the picture, as a painter would have said, and gave it a kind of centre. I was not playiug croquet, and tbero came a rao¬ nient when I w-as doing nothing par¬ ticular, and therefore had time to re¬ mark upon tho sceue around me. As I raised my eyos, my attention wtis all at once attracted by a strange figure, quite alien to tlie group below, whicii stood on the approach to the house.— The liouae, as I liave said, was ou a higlier level, and consequently the road which approached it was higher too ou the summit of the bank which sloped down towards the lawn. A wo¬ man stood above gazing at us. At flrst it seemed to me that she was one of the servants : she had a cotton gown ou, and a straw bonnet, and a littlo blucU silk cloak. I could not say that she was shabby or wretched-looking, but her appearance was a strange contrast to the liretty crowd ou tbe lawn. She seemed to have been arrested ou her way to the door by the sound of voices, and stood there looking down upon us, —a strange, tall, threatening figure, which awoke, I could uot tell how, a certain terror in my mind. By degrees It seemed to me that her gaze fixed upon litlle Mary,—and I felt more frightened still; though what could any one have dono to the child with so many anxious protectors looking on? However, peopK wero intent upon their games, or tlieir talks, or their companions, and nobody saw hor but mj'self. At last I got so alarmed that I left my seat to toll Sir Tbomas of her. I bad just made one step towards him, when all at ouce, with a strange cry, the woman darted down the hank. It w.is at little Mary she flew: she rushed down upou her like a tempest, and seized the child, crushing up her pretty wbite frock and Iier little figure violently iu hor arms. I cried out too in my fright,—for I thought she -was raad,—and various people .sprang frora their chairs, one of the last to be roused being Lady Den¬ zil, who was talking very earnestly to Lady Berkhampstead. The woman gavo .1 great, loud, passionate outcry, as she seized upon little Mary. And the chiUl cried out too, oue single word, which iu a moment tranafixed me where I stood, and caught Lady Den¬ zil's ear like the sound of a trumpet, It was a cry almost like a moan, full of terror, and dismay, and repugnance ; and yet It was one of the sweetest words that ever falls on human ears. 'I'he sound stopped everything, even the croquet, and oalled Sir Thomas forward from the other end of the lawn. The one word that Mary uttered, that fllled us all with such horror and con¬ sternation, was " Mamma!"
" Y'es, my darling," cried the woman, holding her close, crumpling, even crushing her up in her arms. "They took you from me when I wasn't mj'¬ self! Did i'know where they were go¬ ing to bring you ? Hero! O yes, I see itall BOW. Don't touch my child!— don't interfere with my child!—she sha'n't stay here another day. Her father would curae her if he knew she was liere."
" O, pluiwc act IHO do^vn," s.aid little
Mary. "O mamma, please don't hurt nie. O, niylady! "cried thepoorchild, appealing to her protectress. Lady Denzil got up tottering aa ahe he.ird this cry. She came forward with every particle of color gone from hor face.— ¦Shewas so agitated her llpscouldscarce- lyforni the words; but she had the courage to lay her hand upou the woiium's arni,—
" Set her down," she aaid. " If j-ou havo any claim,—set her down—it sball be seen into. Sir Thomas—
Thc stranger turned upon her. Sbe was a woman about five-and-thirty, Ktrong and bold and vigorous. I don't deny she was a liandsome woman. She had big blazing blaok eyes, aud a com¬ plexion perhaps a Uttle heightened by her walk in the heat. She turned upou Lady Denzil, shaking off her hand, crushing Uttle Mary still closer in one arm, and raising the other with a wild theatrical gesture.
[CONCLUSION NEXT WEEK.]
LEGAL NOTICES.
DRY GOODS, &C.
ATFDITOU'S NOTICE. |
Estate of Mary Breneman, late of Bast
Douegal twp., deceased. rilHE undersigned Auditor, appointed to dis- J. tribute the balance remaining In the hands of Jacob S. Herahey, to and among those le¬ gally entitled to the same, will attend for that pnrpose on SATURDAY. MAY .-iOth, 1808, at 10 o'clock, A. M., in the Library Room of the Court House, in the City of Lancaster, where all persons Interested in said distribution may attend. E. D. ROATH,
apl 25-4t-23 Andltor.
1868.
SPBDr«.
1868.
ADSHHriS'l-RATOR'S JfOTICE.
Estate of Martin Bahleman, late of
Conoy township, deceased. T ETTTERS of administration on sidd estate Xj having been granted to the undei-slgned, all persons indebted thereto are requested to make immediate settlement, and thoso having claims or demands against the same, will pre¬ sent them without delay for settlement to tho undersigned, residlug In said two.
JOHN B. EtSEIWOr.E, apl 18-G*t-22 Administrator.
AUDITOR'S NOTICE.
Estate of John Sweigart, late of AVest Douegal twp., Lancaster eo., dec'd.
THEunderslgncd Auditor.appointed to dis¬ tribute the balance remaluttig in the hands of Martin Sweigart and John C. awelgart. Ad¬ ministrators of aaid deceased, to and aniong thoselegally entitled to tiie same, wlll sit for that purpose on SA-ruun.\Y. MAY Otli, 18liS, at 10 o'clock, o. m.. in tlie Court-Houso, lu tho City of Laucn.ster, where all persous interested mayattend. JOHN KOB, apl lii-lWlZ Auditor.
OLOTH.% CASSIMEBES ct CLOTlIIXa
—AT— n |
Tags
Comments
Post a Comment for Lancaster Examiner and Herald