BE — S— @ utee 4 i : eyes due t upon tw fair, proud fice, sh sai fier, with 8 look hint was bard to road; theo: Christ, knowin ¢ that for our own wsin- ly mors than a daz. wisp +; yet ning aod sulfering race He took toe | the son d of it sewhed Miss Fane, vinegm ! lad sne glanced wi him smiingly, shall shake hands, the old cordiality | A RUTHLESS PLOUGHSHARE i ; hesid will never come back. Now I com: |bhereavement rips up the heart. . She But You emoceat, BOUR EXPERIENCES, When Jesus, therefore, had received the vimegar. John 19: 30, The brig 1« of Jerusalem had done mend to all such the sympathy of s betrayed Christ. Why, they sold Him for less than our twenty dollars! They all forsook Him and fled. They cut Him to the quick, He drank that cop to the dregs. He took the vinegar. There is also the sourness of pain, There are some of you who have no: seen a well day for many years, By their work. It was almost sundown, smd Jesus wos dying. Persous in crweifixion often lingered on from day | Gaday—cryiy, begging, cursing; but ‘Christ had been exhausted by years | of maltreatment, fd, fl sgged--as bent over and tied to slow post, His bare back was in- | flamed with the seourges intersticed with pieces of lead and bone—and mew for whole hours, the weight of H's body hung on delicate tendons, sod, according 10 custom, a violent of vke under gwen by the executioner. orasea'e |, feverish--= A WORLD OF AGONY iscompressed in the two words: | thirst! Okies of Judea, let a diop of rain strike on His burning tongue! OQ world, with rolling rivers, and sparking lakes, and spraying foun- tains, give Jesus something to drink! Dizay, IF there be any pity in earth or heaven | ar hell, let it now be demonstrated in | beh df of this royal sufferer. The wealthy women of Jerusalem used to have a ford of money wih which they provided wine for those people who dial ia erucifixion—a powerful opiate to deaden the pain; but Christ would not take it. He wanted to die sader, and so He refused the wine. Bat afterward they go to a cup of vinegar and soak a sponge in it, and patit on a stick of hyssop, and then | press it against the hot lips of Christ You say the wine was an anaesthetic, and intended to relieve or deaden the | pain. Bat THE VINEGAR WAS AN INSULT. I am disposed to adopt the theory of the old English commentators, who believed that instead of its being an opiate to soothe, it was vinegar to in- sult. Malaga and Burguody for | grand dukes and duchesses, ard costly ! wines from royal vats for bloated im" perials- but acids for a dyivg Christ. He took the vinegar. In some lives the saccharine seems to predominate. Life is sunshine on abank of flowers. A thousend hands to clap approval. Io December or in January, lookiog across their table, | they see all their family prescat Health rubicund. Skies flamboyant. Days resilient. But in a great many cases there are not so many sugars as acids. The annoyances, and the vexa- tions, and the disappointments of life overpower the successes. There is A GRAVEL IN ALMOST EVERY SHOE. An Arabian legend says that there was a worm in Solomon's s'aff, gnaw- ing its strength away; and there is a weak spot in every earthly support that « man leans on. King George, of Eagland, forgot all the grandeurs | jority of men in all occupstions and | of his throne because, one day, io an interview, Beau Brumme! called him by his first name, and addressed him as a servant, crying: George, ring the bell! Miss Langdon, honored all the world over for her poetic genius, was so worried over the evil reports set afloat regarding her, that she was foand dead, with an em prassic acid in her hand. sad that his life was a, wretched be- ing, and that all that want aod con- tempt could briog to it had been brought, sad cries out: What, then, | ia there formidable in a jail 7 Correg- | go's flee paintiog is hung op for a | favern sign. Hogarth cannot sell his | best paintings except through a raffle. Andrew Delsart makes the great fresco in the Charch of the Anoun- ciata, at Florance, and gets for pay a sack of corn; and there are aonoy- saces and vexations in high places as well as in low places, showing that in & great many lives are the SOURS GREATER THAN THE EWEERTS When Jesus therefore had received the vinegar. It is absard to suppose that & man who has always been well can sympathize with those who are sick, or that one who has always been Bonored can appreciate the sorrow of those who are despised, or that one | who has been born to a great fortune | can understand the distress and the | stenits of those who are destitute, The | fact shat Christ Himself took the | vinegar, makes Him able to sympa thize to-day and for ever with all | those whose cup is filled with sharp | acids of this Life. He took the vinegar, Fa the first place, there was THE SOURN ESS OF BETRAYAL, Thetreachery of Jadas hurt Christ's | feelings more thao all the friendship | of His disciples did Him good. You | Bbave bad many friends; but there was | one friend upon whom you put espec- inl stress. You feasted him, You loaned him money, You befriended Bios Is the dark passes of life, when be especially needed a friend. Afier. ward, bo turned upon you, and h tok advantage of your former intima. Pillowless. poorly | he arm-pits had been | ord. keeping out of draughts, and by care | fully studying dietetics, you continue { to this time, but oh, the headaches, { and the sideaches, and the backaches, | and the heartaches which have been | your accompaniment all the way | through ! | a heavy mortgage of PHYSICAL DISARILITIES and instena of the placidity that once characterized you, it is now only with great effort that you keep away from [irritability and sharp retort. Diffi- culties of respiration, of digestion, of locomotion, make up the great obsta- cle in your life, and you tug and { sweat along the pathway, and wonder { when the exhaustion will end. friends, the brightest crowns in heaven will not be given to those who, in stirrups, dashed to the cavalry charge while the general applauded ar 8 | La le the general applauded and Whe | oo riosity to know how I will behave sound of clashing sabres rang through the land; but the brightest crowns in heaven, I believe, will be given to those who truged on amid chronic ailments which unnerved theirstrength yet all the time maintaining their faith in God. Itis comparatively easy to | fight in a regiment of a thousand men, | charging up the parapets to the sound of martial music; but it is not #0 easy to endure when no one but the nurse and the doctor are the witnesses of the Curistian fortitude. Besides that you never had any pains worse than Christ's. The sharpnesses that stang through His brain, through His hands, through His feet, t rough His heart, were as great as yours certainly. He was as sick and as weary. Not a nerve or muscle or ligament escaped. All the pangs of all the pations, of all the ages compressed into one sour cup. He took the vinegar! Thereis also the SOURNESS OF POVERTY. Your income does not meet your outsgoings, and that always gives an hooest man anxiety, There is no sign { of destitution about you—pleasant ap- | pearance, and a cheerful home for you; of breasing through the partition be ) | but God only knows what a time you | tween worlds without tearing this | And I fear that | have had to manage your private fi- |body sll to shreds! I wonder if the {some who fell back from this subject Just as the bills ran up, the | surgeons and the doctors cannot com- | into the sickening killing jungles of Dances. wages seem to run down. But you are not the only one who has not been paid for bard work. Thegreat Wilk- ie sold his celebrated piece, “The Blind Fiddler,” for fifty guineas, although afterwards it brought its thousands The world hangs in admiration over the sketch of Gainsborough, yet that very sketch hung for years in the shop-window, because there was not any purchaser. Oliver, Goldsmith sold his “Vicar of Wakefield” for a few pounds, in order to keep the bail- iff out of the door; and the vast ma- professions are not fully paid for their work, Yon may say nothing, but life to you is a hard push; and when you sit down with your wife, and talk over the expenses, you both rise up dis- couraged. You abridge hereand you abridge there, and you get things snug pty bottle of | for smooth sailing, and lo! suddenly Goldsmith | there is a large doctor's bills to pay, | knows the glories of the midnight and the greatest sensation we've had or yon have lost your pocketbook, or | heavens, for they were the spangled for many a season, seid Frask Dris- | { canopy of bis wilderness pillow. some debtor bas failed, and you are thrown abeam-end. Well, brother, you are IN GLORIOUS COMPANY. Christ owned not the house in which He stopped, or the colt on which He rode, or the boat in which He sailed. He lived in a borrowed house; He was buried in a borrowed grave. Exposed to all kinds of weath- er, yet He had only one suit of clothes. He breakfasted in the morning. and no one could possibly tell where He could get anything to eat before night. He would have been pronounced a financial failure. He bad to perform a miracle to get money to pay a tax bill. Not a dollar did He own. Priva. tion of domesticity; privation of nutri tious food; privation of a comfortabie couch on which to sleep; privation of all worldly resources! The kings of the earth had chased chalices out of which to drink; but Christ had noth ing but a plain cup set before Him, and it was very sharp, and it was very sour. [He took the vioegar. THE SOURNESS OF BEREAVEMENT. There were years that past long be- | fore your family circle was invaded | by death, but the moment the charmed | the astronomer, used to help him to circle was broken everything seemed Hardly have you put the | to diseolve. black apparel in the wardrobe before you bave again to take it out, Great and rapid changes in your family ree- You got the house and rejoiced in it, but the charm was gone as soon as the crape hung on the doorbell. The ove upon whem you most de pended was taken away from you. A ¢ild marble slab lies on your heart to-day. Ounce, as the children romped through the house, you put your hand over your achiug head, and said: Ob, You have struggled under My | Jesus koows all about thet, cannot tell him anything vew in re- gard to bereavement. He had only a few friends, and when He lost one it brought teurs to His eyes, Luzarus had often eotertained Him at his house, Now Lazarus is dead and buried, and Christ breaks down with emotion, the convulsion of griefshud- dering through all the ages of be- reavement, Christ koows what it is to go through the house mixing a familiar inmate Christ knows what table, Were there not four of them--— Mary and Martha, and Corist and Lazarus? Four of them, {is Lazarus? Lonely apd afflicted | Christ, His great loving eyes fill d with tears, which drop from eye to cheek, and from cheek to beard, and {from beard to robe, and from robe to | floor. Ob, yes, yes. He knows all {about the loneliness and the heart break, He took the vinegar! THE BOURNESS OF DEATH, Then there is the sourness of the death-hour, Whatever else we may | escape, that acid-sponge will be pres. {sed to our lips. I sometimes have a | when I come to die; whether I will | be calm or excited: whether I will be | filled with reminiscence or anticipa {tion. I cannot say. { point I must and you mast, In the six thousand years that have passed, only two persons have got into the | eternal world without death, and [ do it is Lo see an unoccupied place at the But where But come tothe | There was a vessel that haul been tossed on the seas for a great many weeks, and been disabled, und the sop ply of water gave outand the crew were DYING OF THIRST, After many days they saw a sail ag- { ainst the sky, Thay signed if, When the vessel came nearer, the [ people on the suffering ship aried to | the captain of th: other vessel: us some walter | lack of water, | the vessel that was heil d responded: “Dip your buckets where you are Send | and there are scores of miles of fresh | water all around about you, and hondreds of feet deep” Aud then they dropped their buckels over the side and brought up the clear, bright fresh water, and put out the fire of { their thurst, So 1 hail you to-day, af | ter & long and perilous voyage, thirst: {ing as you are for pardon, aod thirsts ing eternal life, and I ask yon what is the vee of you going in that death. struck state, while all around you the deep, clear, wide, sparkling flood of God's sympatheue mercy. "0, dip your backets, and live forever. Wh soever will let him come and take the water of life freely.” Yet my uiterance is almost choked at the thought that there are people bere who refuse this Divine sympathy and they will try to fight their own battles, and i LE] | not suppose that God is going to send | a carriage for us, with horses of flame, | [to draw us up the steeps of heaven; | but I suppose we will have to go like the precediog generations. An officer from the future world will knock at the door of our hearts, and serve us the writ of ejectment, and we will have to surrender, And we will wake up after these autumnal and wintry and vernal and summery glories have vanished from our vision: we will wake up into a realm which has only { one season, and that season of ever- lasting love, Bat you say: I donjt wast to br {out from my present associations, is 80 chilly and #0 damp 10 go down the stairs of that vault. I don't want anything drawn so tightly over my eyes. If there were only some way nx It vO pound a mixture by which this body and soul can al. the time be kep. to gether? Is there no escape from this seperation?! None; absolutely none, So I look over this audience to-day— the vast majority of you seeming in good health and spirits—amd yet realize that in a short time all of us be gone—gone from earth, and gove for ever. A great many men tumble through the gates of the future, as it were, and we do not know where they have gooe, and they only add GLOOM AND MYSTERY to the passage; but Jesus Christ so | mightily stormed the gates of that fo ture world that they have never been clsely shut. Christ knows it is to leave this world, of the beauty of which He was more than we ever could be, the exquisiteness of the cence of the sea; He trod it. since what appreciative He koows phospaor es. He He | knows about the lillies, He twisted {them into his sermon. He knows about the fowls of the air; they whir- red their way through His discourse, | He knows about the sorrows of leav- ing this beautiful world. Not a taper was kindled in the darkness. He died physicianless. He died in cold aod agony, that have put Him in SYMPATHY WITH ALL THE DYING, He goes through Christendom, and He gathers up the.strings cut of all the death pillows, and He puts them under Hisown neck and head. He gathers on His own tongue the bura- ing thirets of many generations. The sponge is soaked in the sorrows of all those who have died in the beds, as well as soaked in the sorrows of all those who perished in icy or fiery mar tyrdom. While heaven was pitying, and earth was mocking, and hell was deriding He took the vinegar! To all those in this avdiencs whom life has been an acerbity a dose they could not swollow, adraught that set there teeth on edge and a raping. | I preach the omnipotent sysiem of | Jesus Christ. The sister of Herschal, his work. He got all the eredit; she got none. Bhe used to spend much of her time polishing the telescopes through which he brought the distant worids nigh: and it is my smbition now, this hour, to clean the lens of your spirit: ual vision, so that looking Suh the dark night of your earthiy troubles you may behold the glorious constellation of a Bavior’s love, O,my friends, do not carry all your illsalone, Do not put your poor shoulder « nder tke Apennines w the Alanighty Christ 18 ready to lit up all your burdens, When you have a trouble of any and that this man on | DRINK THEIR OWN VINEGAR, {and carry their own burdens; and their life, instead of being a triumphal march from victory to victory, will hobbling-on from defeat to defeat until they make a flunl surrender wo retributive disaster. O, J wish I could to-day gather up in my arms all the woes of men and wothien all their heart. aches all their disappointments—all their chagrios—and | take them right tothe feetof a sympathizing Jesus He took the Nuon after he had lost his last battle India, into the ja full of malaria that live there: He carried with alto a ruby of great luster great value. He die! in those jun his body was pever found, and ihe ruby has never yet been discouvered. just vinegar Sahib, in § ¢ oH 3 = | back rial no mortal can him Aang of RICE their sin, carring A GEM OF A priceless forever O; that taat ruby might flash in the eternal coronation! But no, There some, | fear, in this sudiene who taro ‘away from this offered mercy, and comfort, and Devine sympathy; not withstandiog that Christ for who would sceept His grace, trudged the long way’ and suffered th ratio thongs’ and received in the face expectorat) the filth the discomforted of th venegar- May God Al the infatuation, and leave s strong hope, and the g glorious su t (2 spel : INFINITE VALUE soul —ty be lost are ail IRCE he shine ——— After Many Days- Yes, she's the most decided beauty col Lo his friend, edging their way through a crowded portion of the bril liant rooms; but her heart, if she has | If] | one, is apparently mado of flint, { you fail to make an impression on it, | Louis, I shall begin to think her somethiog more or less than woman. I remember what havoe you used to | | play with the hearts of the prettiest | gotten your old tricks—eh ? Louis Richmond laughed-—his low, careless laugh that suited the indo- lent beauty of his dark face and sofs dusky Southern eyes. I can hardly hope to succeed where Frank Driscol has failed, he retorted lightly. And as to my old tricks, as ou call them, itis a long time since | Ave seen A WOMAN Worth Sh! here we are, at last, broke in Mr. Driscoll's low-modulated tones, for the way had suddenly opened be- fore them. Aud then, immediately: Miss Fane, my old friend, Mr Richmond, Louis Richmond raised his eyes- still with that laugh, careless and half cynical, in their velvety depths, to the face of the girl before him-—the beauty of the scason, as everybody called her. Was it the flash of her starry blue eyes, the glitter of her burnished hair, or the enchantment of her smile, that dazzled him and held him speechless for a second, as il under the spell of a sorceress? For the dark eyes, riveted upon that peerless loveliness as though they beheld a vision, bad lost their laughing mockery and every vestige of color had drifted out of the hand: some olive face, Homph! surrendered at sight—hit bard, too, by all that's beautiful, mut tered Frank Driscol, somewhat as tonished, as he turned away with a Jaughing I told yru so, glance st his companion, and left him to bis fate, So he did not catch that one startled, jrsaprensible word that fell from Louis’ pe Cecil! It was a low, breathless cry, searoe- We are dying for the | And the capimin on | You are in the mouth of the Amazon, | for comfort and thursting for | to-day there are | | with an air of patite interest, | You pike, I thick Mr. Richmond? | she said questioningly, mn " col, | sweet voice, aud wt, asmillog glance AS A {at the chatterers a | ubout | sufficient sp logy fur her failure to catch his words, | He drew himself up with uncon {geious bautsur, and a hot, swift Hush with wile ' them. iiuy JNSIAULIY ACTORS his tense | features, Whalever vision he fancied he had seen-—for whomever hie had taken this | eool, fair beauty with glittering gol {den huir--this queen of 'ashion in her i jewels there certainly was not the faintest sign of recoguiti von ber part Her beatiful blue Ok ing into own, there was a slight, half interested smile on eyes Were traigh hi and the perfect lips, and both loos and smile were just such as the belle of the rang ’ season mgnt hest er—nothing more or I believe | asked for the bon ir of a -if you chance 10 IW Gpon any 168s, place on your card piled unhesitaiing | head low have one left, he re ly, bending his dainty bit of parchment she Lie hi, And wheo be sgain looked ug, his ing scribbled his name (uo the two a claimed thereon, he was thor oughly h.mself again —handsome, non chalant, with that indol cypicism in look and maover had deepened jost a trifle, now that he had mel the beautiful Miss Fane Bat how many times his ey 8 wan dered covertly to that graceful zling figure, as she floated in the dance How | ‘ throbbed like some mad 1 Ig praces i ¢ . at oucs 90 which Anz . past him 3118 heart thrilied and fis he held that same perfect WH number came, Hguse 10 ls arms when his and he looked down with a strange lightin his dusky eyes mingling of sionate yearning and contemptuous - upon the proud, love near his breast Ove a [Hs bitterness face leaning so For, looking drooping golden head, a: tz r and Deyor they r n ated { the iid trains yi toe yd fl {Fel igh the wal g ug! thir dreamy, ¢X ju music throbbed nd them, a picture rose before his memo ry—a picture of that fect face sand willow y 1orm, bul different a se ting. He saw a slender, gracefot girl poised fearlessly upon a rugged west. ero cliff, her cheap ealico gown flut | tering in the'wind, and loud | golden bair unbound fl ating { abut her shoulders at Wh sweet will, while at her feet the brimmed straw hat lay unheeded. He secmed to ! blue eves, sow, surged ¢ about Be il-same per 0 aow a ol And its CORTE, wiile- 800 these same besul - lv then they with innocent, girlish love light into his: he saw, 10), these rose-red lips, but then they were smil ing tenderly and trustingly opon Lim and ~h wildly his Deal now al 1h ry thought ! ful n vox ed game exquisite i AIWATS once w neart Vv unrep a lingering, impassioned lover's kiss Ar 4] he had left upon them Vv e there two such faces In ! Louis asked himself, and in i his hh fares, or is this she, he almost ‘ ! whe al pshaw |! why sh Rs 1h wal wor Walz-music rose ng Sirains, seeming 0 I with its dreamy measur re ther LWO #0 reel f I sould ye he swear that itis, and uld I care? Did pr Any truer, sweeler, purer than the rest? No! and yet—Heay ens! after all these years the sight of Ia face like hers has power to maddan | { me—Heavens ! He did not linger near her wh: {the wal'z was over, buat strolled out | into the cool night air to still the fever {in his veins, He was pacing op and down the flagged walk, thinking aod smokiog, Fraovk Driccol’s chesry tons Ld Ive - » | when sweat, and dizzivess aod hemorrhage | girls, aud I suppose you haven't for | broke in upon his solitude. Hello! Richmond, is it you? he exclaimed in mock surprise as he ran agaiost him. I wish now I bad lsid a wager with you, he went on triumph. anily, for you weot down before her | at the first glance, just as [ predicted. [ Isn't she a peerless creature ? Who is she, Fraok? questionea | Louis, ignoring bis personal allusions. | Have you known her long? Do vou | happen to koow anything of her histo- ry?! Where's she from? Hold on, and I'll answer some of your questions if you'll give me a fair his hand pretestingly. Upon my honor, you're the worst case we've {had yet. Well, to begin, she is Miss {Cecil Fane. | name—the undisputed belle and bean [ty of the season. Some few yearsago, {she was ndopted by her grandfather — {a wealthy old man—and sent to board ing school, and this winter she made {her first appearance ia society here, {having just finished an extensive | European tour. That's all 1 can tell it, her name was Halbert— Owil Hal: bert, She took her grandlather’s name when he adopted her, Al! Again Louis started, and this time A strange, halisneering bitterness swept over his handsome features, and his lips closed tightly in a bhasd stern line. Bat inthe starlight Frank nove oiled the Tony of his lintle of biography. they went back together, and afier a time Richmond found an N { Fle iv h sweeping satin train and glimmeriog | chance, laughed Driscol, boldiog up | Lovie started at the | opportunity to speak to Mim Fane hue. | memonanda. [ have just bear | a bit ~f yoor in- teresting story, Miss Fane, he said. Pernt mo to congratulate yon wpom your gpol fortune. | learned also— Lin a low, firm tone, as he beat » little ! nearer—that you are Cecil Halbert, i Leould as | was sure you must be, [ knew | Why did not be wistaken. youl refuse Lo recognizes me ? : Pard uo sir with an added Miu- r besring, and a tosch of froctiness in ber cool toner I am ‘ecil Fave, and 1 made your sc quain‘ance an hour or =o ago, I be eve Mr. Richmond. Way should I have recognized you, save as 1 would any other gentleman introduced tO me ening? | am ab a loss wo know ? ths en , she ¢ rrecied, ie Y. the goad aco 1 remen Ue with me dates eh 18 ; Please hay that your aq inIntans 1 | from this « Veuing, i 5 He b sugh yess equal retorted coldly, that in little | Halbert bie } AesUre you Pt | Cee rec sgn tha scornful flash of tet, haif-con he was gone——nor alm his other dance, ant with it! for 1 con- what is the perpetuds warfare be 1 and the beanty, Miss Fane. d tw each other ry first. what is it? flirtation, ng the LI iran t Louis I am Ayipr 10 Ku ’ et One, WwW seerel « tween y Y from the ¥ I looked | Very iesst And Frask Driscol back bis seal, a hale Now, iteresing uve seer r 40 1 al Lhe threw himself wufidently pre pared to jisten bo a story, Lis smoked anay for a minute or two in silen knockiog the from his cigar, glanced up, with ¥ i=Te © then fopge klesness upon his ich Loo. this | mly four, a life-time, Well, 7 met girl out there, aud Halbert. » | | Jirprised . can ave the story, words, us remem Der #1 a few ¥ You Bs i I, & 0 (ruess raear 0 deserts went by Lhe looking and loved hier name was Cecil Ab! you an inn little ssemed so, [bitterly] and J loved her because I thought her so pure and childlike, so diffarect from most wom- en | had koown I was sure my love was but | had never spoken of it, when | was sud fenly called home by the ill ness and death of my sister, you re- r? My sister Clara telegraphed me 10 come ut & moment's delay and | obeved, not waiting to say by n to mv little Cecil, "Bat I meant t atl once, and mountain girl what 1 asked of any city juaintanoce I meant to k, nay, to implore her tobe my wile. With a heart filled with love and g read return, { this blow to my confi yankind, Frank ! 8 letter from the girl [ loved, the and iano wav, vel me DAC Upon a little She was thing, or are HOH trustiod nr, retaroed, mem wit good- ove retarn tiie t have y 0 -piainly and heartlessly inform- me that she had only been amus my expense; that she had liked me well enough, but that she had since met one whom she loved, aod who was {ar richer than I, in the bargain. And that if I had ever fan- cied she cared for me, etc,—you know how they all write such things? oven the most unsophisticated of them Well, that ended the matter, then ‘and there. I aid vot go West again, but | did become the hopeless woman- hater you are trying so vainly to cure. | It seems she pever married the man whose wealth had caught her fickle little beart, but itis quite certain she | never cared much for me. And when {I met her bere—but, pshaw! what is | the use— Ob, Louis! Louis! broke in asweet, | half-tearful voice, as 8 woman's slen- der figure, in rustling silk, stepped | swiftly through the open window, and, | regardless of Frank's presence, went "stright up to Richmond and laid ber | band upon his shoulder. On, Louis! if I had only koows! | Cecil! It was a strangely hoarse, choking | ery of mingled doabt and joy, for be | could not helieve that it was really { Cecil Fane, the belle of the season, who was softiy sobbing in his arms, And Frank, although the lovers took no thought of him, had kindly stepped through the window into the house, and left them there slone. I was told that you had goose East to be married, aad believed it, she ex- plained, b tween her happy soby and so 1 sent that note after you, of course, cen’ at ing herself you of her, except, come to think of | ts save my own pride in the malier, And the man I liked better than you ? Why, my dear old grandfather, who joame after me just theo, and who ‘gave me his name and his wealth. ‘Bat 1 vever knew—I never really thought neti! this moment that you loved me, Lowi! And 1 never thought anything else, he hughel, in spite of your scorn, my haughty livde derling. pre “Why “His wile been learnivg RITE RTE By short
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