T()WA N D A :
— ♦ ■
saturimn /Horning, (Pctobcr 28, 183
JWtddr IJoctqi.
BEYOND THE RIVER.
Time is a river deep and wide ;
And while along its banks we stray
Wc see our lov'd ones o'er its tide
Sail from our sight away, away.
Where are tbey sped, they who return
No more to glad our longing eyes 1
They've passed from life's contracted bourne
To land unseen, unknown, that lies
Bej-orid the river.
*Tis hid from view; but we may guess
How beautiful that realm must be;
For of its loveliness,
In visions granted, oft we see.
The very clouds that o'er it throw
Their veil, unrais'd for mortal sight,
With gold and purple tintings glow,
Reflected froin the glorious light
Beyond the river.
And gentle airs, so sweet, *o calm,
Steal something from that viewless sphere;
The mourner feels their breath of balm,
And soothed sorrow dries the tear.
And sometimes listening ear may gain
Entrancing sound that hither floats,
The echo of a distant strain
Of Larps' and voices' blended notes,
Beyond the river.
There are our lov'd ones in their rest;
They've cross'J Time's river; now no more
They heed the bubbles on its breast,
Nor feel the storms that sweep its shore.
But there pure love cau live, can last,
They look for us their home to share ;
YVhen we in turn away have pass'd.
What joyful greetings wait u? there,
Beyond the river !
§■ c I r r ff h Sale.
IDLE WORDS
I was visiting a surgeon's family in . and as
lhe house was large, and the master independent
rnd hospitable, and the country attractive, several
persons besides myself were assembled, and among
litem, an old gentleman, long since retired Iroui the
prac'ice of the law, and some young people, rela
tives of ths host. These young folks, like most
others of their age, were thoughtless and hasty,rath
er than deliberately wicked, and talked a great
deal more, and used a great deal stronger language
than they had any idea of.
If it is true that slanders by see more than those
who play, it certainly may be supposed that lis
teners hear and understand more of the merits of
eager, silly talkers, than they suspect, and that in
doing so, they often hear what vexes and mortifies
them exceedingly. And this was name and Mr.
Falconer's lot, one day. during our visit to Mr. Lin
desay, when playing at chess, we overheard the
conversation of the group of young people, who
knitting, netting, crocheting or drawing, filled the
recess of a great bay-window in the break las
room;
The subject of their gossip was an application
which had been made in the morning to Mrs Lin
desay, by a young girl of the most winning and pre
possessing manners, fur her interest with the la
dies' committee of one ol the neighboring chariy
schools, lor the situation oi teacher, which was just
then vacant.
Now, although my cood friend Mrs Lindesay i?
a kind hearted, well di'posed person, on the whole
she has a fair share o! the leaven of osten'a'ion in
her composition ; and therefore, instead of granting
the applicant's request for a private interview, had
her shown up into the room where we aii sat, and
where ten pairs of inquisitive woman's eyes were
raised to stare at her when she came in.
Certainly, this was very had taste, if not qoile
bad feeling ; for the poor girl, taken aback by the
audden and unexpected introduction to so many
strangers, colored painfully, scarcely seeming bo
know whether to retreat or remain. Still,confused
and bewildered as she was, she was not ungrace
ful ; but, recoveting her courage, commenced her
business in a manner that convinced me and Mr.
Falconer that her present position, as a candidate
for the post of a charity school teacher was very
different to what she had becen accustomed.
And, unfortunately for her, Mrs. Lindesay— not
nsuafly very discerning or imaginative—quickly
suspected the same, and subjected her to a cross
examination, which was not either peculiarly lady
like or kind, seeiug that it had, for its sole end and
torn, tiie gratification of an essentially vulgar pas
sion—curiosity.
The young girl, however, bore it well. That
iite was mortified and hurt, was evident; but nev
ertheless. her answers were frank and dignified
Her father had been a merchant at C , she said
had failed and died, and her step mother was
flow in ill health, and broken spiri!s < wholly de
pendent upon her. Circumstances had made the
pOMtion of governess in the charity school most
desirable ; and being informed that Mrs. Lindesay's
influence was very great with the committee, she
had ventured to call and seek it.
"You can bring testimoaußs, of course," said
hie patroness, flattered by the power ascribed to
her. " i really have so many applications for my
-a.e;est in this matter, and is an affair of so much
'mpo,tance, that I cannot consent even to name
cne unless their references are first rate. And
t'Ht.kr iptK, y OU know, pray excuse me, 1 would
t Lurt your* feelinrjs for the world—but when a
u emislt attaches to one member of a family, peo
c.e ate are so sadly apt to consider it as extending
10 all. Your testimonials, however—"
Shall be respectable madam. Of my qualifi
ca:' Qns > 'he committee may judge for themselves,
45 1 am perfectly willing to teach the school gra
tuitously lor a week, which will give them an op
r hunity 0 f learning if I am competent to fulfil the '
--L'cs 'hey requite ''
: 'I will consult my mother, and call again this
evening."
And raising with a graceful curtesy, but crimson
ed cheek, Ehe left the room.
" Poor girl !" said Mr. Falconer, in a low voice
when the door closed, " she has drank a bitter cup
this morning."
The remark was unheard by every one but my
self, for the rest were chattering altogether very
much after the fashion of'a nest of magpies,
so that it was difficult to distinguish any thing in
the din. At least we heard our hostess say—
"lt certainly was strange. One would have
thought that, knowing reference must be required,
she would have been prepared with them, instead
of having to consult her mother. Yes, now you
mention it Miss Lowther, it does look strange; I
don't like it."
" Nor I; but then Ido not like her manner
throughout. Her story, too, stiuek mc as being a
lame one. II she is respectable, why doesn't she
get a better place than this charity school ? A resi
dent governess in a good family, for instance. The
salary would be quite as good, I daro say, and the
situation much more respectable."
" Yes; but I understood that she had a sick step
mother. Perhaps site requires attendance and
nursing, and the house and firing ottered to the
charity school governess, therefore may be of great
importance. She alluded to some particular cir
cunisiatices, if you remember," said Mr. Falconer.
" Oh, yes, I remember," replied Anna Lowther,
witli a pert laugh. " She made nothing but allu
sions, I think."
" Pardon me, young lady ; I thought her infor
mation respecting herself very honest, and quite
as explanatory as strangers had a right to expect."
" Strangers ! Why il people go to ask favors of
strangers, they must prepare to explain and satLfy
them. I know I should."
"Certainly. But Miss Raynerdid not, I think
come to a>k favors from u, only from Mrs. Linde
say ; and probably il she had seen Mrs. Lindesay
alone, she would have been as explicit as even
your heart could wish."
" My heart could wish? Indeed, Mr. Falconer,
my heart has no wish about her. I dare say she is
somebody we are al! a great deal belter for know
ing nothing at all about. Even ifshe is what she
says, bankrupt's only daughter are not likely to be
great acquisitions to one's acquaintance. Extrava
gant, giddy things ! tbey are olieuer the cause ol
their father's ruin than people fancy."
"So they are, Miss Lowther. I must be careful
how f act; for it would not do to recommend her
to the committee until I am perfectly satisfied.—
They all think so much of whai I say."
" Of course ; and therefore you ought to be doub.
ly particular. By-the-bye, does not Mrs. Ford
ham corns from C ? II the gill's father was
anything of a merchant, she would be certain to
know something of her."
"To be Pure. Thai never struck me beiore. It
will be a capital way to find out all 'about her
What a pity Mrs. Fordham is out. I wonjer if
she will return to dinner. But just now, you see,
she is so uncertain in her movements ; and she
said, when the went out, that if the new drawing
room paper enrne, she might not gel back until tea.
How very tantalizing it is. And now that you have
excited my suspicions, I shall be quite fidgety un
til they are satisfied. What a goed thing it was 1
promised nothing. I might,very likely, if she had
stayed longer, and your looks had not put me on
my guard. Well, we must wait until Mrs. Ford
ham comes back."
And co they did. And now Mis. ForJliam had
come back, and every body was talking to her, and
telling her of Miss Ray iter's visit, and asking her
whether she knew anything o! her, and what?
" For it's rather a remarkable name," said Anna
Lowther, " and if there aie, or wote such people
at C , you must know them."
" Oh, 1 don't know half the people at C ;
and the Hayner6 were quite out ol my way."
" How ?" asked Mrs. Lindesay. .
" Oh J don't know ; for.noparticular reason tliat
I am aware oi."
"Now that's only an excuse; only your good
nature. Mrs. Fordham. You are not the sort of
person to Jo things without a reason."
" Wei!, perhaps uot,' : returned the lady, half
flattered, halt bored. " But in this case I am afraid
I did ; for I certainly never had any particular rea
son for avoiding the Rayners."
"Oh, then you did avoid them ?"
" No, not exactly. I met them occasionally—
but they were a good deal talked about at one
time. And then Mr. Rayner's bankruptcy, and
"Oh, I see, I see," replied Mrs. Lindesay, look
iug very wise. "Thank yon. I quite understand."
" Do you?"said Mr. Falconer, in a subdued and
sarcastic voice. " Then you must be a greater gen
ius than 1 took you for."
At this moment a servant entered with a letter
for his mistress ; after perusing it, Mrs. Lindesay
exclaimed
" Well, how strange. Talk of a certain person,
and he's sure to appear, they say. Here's a note
from Miss Rapier, written quite in a lady-like
manner, and referring me to Mr. Bentley, a solici
tor at C ."
"Bentley! Oh, he was Mr. Rayncr's lawyer;
and at one time it was said but, good gracious!
what is the use of repeating all the tales one hear? ?
1 dare say it was a fabrication."
"No doubt. Still let us hear it, and judge for
ourselves, Mrs. Lindesay ought to know all she
can ; and you remember the old saying, "No
smoke without some fire."
" But really it is so long ago, and he i 6 marriej
now."
Qh, dear, dear, wha} a very liltle spark will kin
dle gunpowder!
At these words, a significant glance of intelli
gencc passed around the circle; and Mr. Falconer
who had Been very busy making some memoran
-1 dum in his pocket book, looked up too.
PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY AT TO WANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., BY E. O'MEARA GOODRICH.
" REGARDLESS OF DENUNCIATION FROM ANY QUARTER."
Unluckily, however, for the gratification of our
curiosity, some late visitors arrived; and under the
full impression that Miss Rayner was no better
than she should be, and that Mrs. Lindesay had
had a narrow escape of being taken in, the subject
dropped.
Not entirely, though, for Mr. Falconer and 1
recurred to it marry times during the evening; and
more than once he used the term we had so often
discussed, " idle words—idle words."
Now ithappeneJ that tire next was a rainy day;
a real downright English rain, without half an
hour's pause, or one moment's break in the dull,
leaden clouds—and therefore we were alloompell
ed to resign the hope ol our usual walks and rides,
and content ourselves at home. I said all; but I
ought to have made an exception in the case ot
Mr. Falconer,who went ouUdirectly alter breakfas',
and did not return until luncheon, when we saw
him, galooned, coated and umbrellaed, turn into
die drive Irom the London roads, and walk bifikly
up to the house, nodding to us as he passed our
window.
With the itincheon tray, however, became in,
and, rather more silently than usual, took his cus
tomer)- place.
Like all luncheons, it was a gossiping meal. All
sorts ot nonsense was talked, and more than one
smart ill matured thing said, more to make the
hearers laugh than to gratify any real malice in the
speaker. In the middle of one of these sharp
speeches, Mr. Falconer said—
" What have yon done about your charity school
governess, Mrs Lindesay ? Are you going to have
Miss Ilayner ?"
" Oh, dear, no, certainly not. Alter what Mrs.
Fordham said, I couldn't think of such a thing."
" Indeed! I understand Jim. Fordham lo say
that she knew but very little about the young la
dy."
" But that little was quite enough. I perfectly
understood what Mrs. Fordham meant. It is not
always necessaay to be explicit in such matters."
" Do you think not? Now in anything affecting
a person's character or credit, it appears tome that
those who ask and those who answer questions can
scarcely be too explicit."
'• Ah ! you are a lawyer, Mr. Falconer."
" Y'es, and therefore I know so well what is the
real value ol hall sentences and insinuations, and
how very often terrible hints come to nothing when
iliey are investigated. During the time 1 was in
practice, more than one case came to my knowl
edge, wheie irreparable mischief was done, and ru
in caused by idle words. The false witness God
has forbidden us lo bear against our neighbor, in
polite society is spoken daily."
"Oh, Mr. Falconer, what a shocking accusa
tion ! Nobody bears witness except in a court
of justice, and nobody even then bears false wit
ness."
"No ; because why ? Those who framed the
laws knew the danger of idle words : and although
they could not stop their currency in society, they
could in a witness box, and therefore resolved to
punish all spoken there. No IT MI can go into a
court of law and hint away his neighbor's life, fafne
or credit. What he says there he must vrovc ; and
il he wilfully speaks lalse, he is punished. It would
be well lor us all if the same rule prevailed in
private life; we should hear no ruinous slander
then."
"Slander! Oh, Mr. Falconer, what a hard
word." •"
Yes ; and it describes a hard, thing; for what
else but slander is the gossip which shatters away
reputation, and insinuates falsehoods it has not the
courage to speak openly."
" Well, whatever I think, I am sure 1 shail at
ways have the courage to say," replied Miss Low
ther, fancying that the lawyer's keen eye fell up
on her as lie spoke; " and as for this Mis Kayner
or Hailer. or whatever her name is, that you chain
pion so iudelatigably, Mr. Falconer, I think Mrs.
Lindesay has done very wisely in having nothing
to do with her."
" And why
" Why?" answered the young lady with a toss
" Oh, there arc plenty of reasons."
" Are there ? Then pray give mc one."
There was a pause which nobody seemed dis
posed to break ; and Mr. Falconer said —
" O.ice in my life, Miss Lowther, when 1 was
not much older and wiser than you are now, a
circumstance happened in the family ola relative,
which mado so 6trong an impression on my mind
that I resolved ever after, not only to keep a strict
guard upon my own words, never speaking idly or
thoughtlessly that which, if taken seriously, would
injure others, but never, if I could coulJ help it, to
suffer such words to be spoken in my presence,
without making an eilorl to have them explained ai
the time."
Over and over again, sinc3 that resolution was
made, it has been sorely tried, lor I am naturally
flippant of speed), and the temptation to say a sharp
contemptuous, or littie things, lias often been al
most irresistible. Still, God helped me, I have re
stated ; and therefore, knowing what ;nay be done
—1 can never pardon or excuse the heartless indul
gence of so greal a sin in other people. You think
this strong language, Miss Lowther; and so it is—
but when I give you the heads of the sad story
which justifies )t,you will IJhopc and believe, agree
with me that no language can be too strong to re
pudiate a practice which may involve such eonse
quences.
" Many years ago, my cousin, whoso name I
shall call Alice Hay,formed an attachment to an of
ficer oi dragoons, whom she knew Irom childhood,
but wham, she loved most sincerely, her father
would not receive as a suitor, because he disliked
the army, and the lover was poor.
' " Time however, 'and Alice's unfailing obedi
ence, added to a severe illness which threatened
her life, softened Mr. Hay at last, and he consent
although reluctantly, to the engagement; not gra
ciously though, tior without many hard words,
among which was a tirade against gambling, " the
soldier's vice," as he called it, and a warning to
Alice that, if ever lie had the slightest reason to
suspect Major Ilydal of playing, even at the al
tar, the marriage should be broken off.
" This threat was very painful, as showing the
ill feeling which still existed in Mr. Hay's mind :
but as Alice knew that her Jover never played, it
soon ceased to vex her, and she began, with gieat
joy aLd eagerness, to make preparations for her
marriage.
'• Now, whether it was that, Alice being his fa
vorite child, he could not bear the prospect of part
ing with her, and so repented the consent he had
given, I cannot tell ; but certainly my uncle grew
more morose and strange in his manner, especially
towards Major Ridal, who being a very proud mari
—could scarcely brgok die way in which lie was
received. Sdll, however Mr. Ilay might regret his
compliance, he was too much a man of honor to
withdraw it, except in the event he had fairly warn
ed them ot, and which Alice lelt certain could nev-
er arise.
" I ought, perhaps, to have said that my uncle
was a very unpopular person, especially with
yourig people, who thought he had used Alice and
Rjdal very cruelly; and many knowing his horror
ol gamblers, but neither the threat to Alice, nor the
miseiy that would accrue to her in the case her
father su-pected Major Rydal ul playing, would
have gone to almost any extremity to torment him.
Well, in certain circles, this aversion of Mr. Hay's
was talked of so much that at last it began to as
sume a dangerous shape ; and from being spoken
ol as a dislike of his, came to be whispered about
as a habit of his intended son-in-law.
!l No one o| course asserted it, because no- one
could trace whence or how the rumor had risen,
but every one hinted it: and at !at, one day after
a large public dinner, that report reached Mr. Hay.
"Ail that was said was vague and idle enough;
but, heated with wine, it was sufficient to enrage
and decide a prejudiced man like my uncle, who
went home, commanded his daughter to break oft
all communication vith the Major, and then wrote
to him, withdrawing his consent to the marriage,
and forbidding him not only to enter the house
again, but to hold any correspondence with his be
trothed.
(i As you may suppose, this was a teirible blow
to both Alice and her lover; the happiness oi each
was bound up in the oilier; and proud though he
was, the Major made every effort to soften and
conciliate Mr. Hay. But in vain; my uncle had
never liked the handsome soldier; never forgiven
himself lor the consent ha had vouchsafed ; and be
lieving a!! the while that by this inflexibility he was
consulting his daughter's welfare, sturdily refused
to listen to a word. For a long lirr.e this was car
ried so far that neither of the parties most deepfy
and neaiiy interested, knew the cause of the sad
and sudden change which had fallen like a blight
upon their happiness: but at last Major Rydal did
learn the reason, his indignation was boundless.—
Positively and haughtily he denied the charge, de
manded the names ofhis accusers and their proofs ;
and when Mr Hay refued to give either, urged
Alice, with ail lhe vehement passion of which he
was master, to fulfil an engagement so uniustly and
wickedly broken, and keep her pledge, even il her
father violated his.
" But Alice, although she loved her betrothed
with nil the truth anil faithfulness of her nature, was
too gentle anil dutiful a child to seek even her hap
piness at the expense ofher lather's. And there
fore, although her heart was breaking, and in part
ing with him she had so long looked upon as her
hu-band, she knew that she was bidding farewell
to all earthly joy, she did part, and listened to the
Major's passionate upbraidiugs and prayers un
shaken, though, ns the event proved, not unmoved.
" Frantic with rage and disappointment, unable
to di-cover his enemies, or disprove reports which
were even at the worst but vague and shadowy,
i\l tjur liydal exchanged with a regiment under or
ders for India, and within a week of his landing
lei I a victim to yellow fever.
11 From the day the intelligence reached Eng
land, Alice who had never rallied from the shock
of pir'ing, drooped visibly ; arid at last even licr
father, to whom she was as the apple of his eye,
c tuld i.ot but see that she was dying.
"Still, agonized and miserable as fie was, his
conscience seemed Irep from any self-reproach, for
believing rftot thoroughly that Major Kydal had
been guilty of that sin which above all others, was
inexcusable in his sight, my uncle persisted in
maintaining that he had but done a parent's duty
in preserving his child from a marriage with a gam
bler : and that, sad as was her fate now, it was in
finitely preferable to that which, by his means, she
bad escaped.
'• Ti was strange, seeing how completely his dar
ling's happiness depended upon it, that Mr Hay
had never, afier that first passiona'e night, either
investigated the accusation made against the sol I
Jicr, by those, if fie had been candid and unpre
judiced, he must ha7e seen talked idly and af ran
dom, or suffered Alice to know their names tuat
she might do so. Hut now that she was dying, and
implored him, by her constant dn y and obedience,
to gratify Iter lasl request, end give her the melan
choly satisfaction of at least attempting to exoner
ate the memory of her lover, M Hay could hold
QUI no longer; and the words so idly uttered, so
terribly remembered were repeated to the dying
git!, with the names of those who had spoken
them.
"At this crisis i was sent for. My cousin and 1
had been friends from infancy, and now thai 1 had
returned to settle near her, she sent for me, and
telling me all, entrusted to me the inquiry which
was to exculpate or condemn the dead.
Ah! young lady, what an inquiry that was.—
One half the men whose idle words had done such
horrible mischief, had utterly forgotten that they
had over used them ; unfounded, and almost in
vented at the moment, they had been forgotten as
soon as the impulse of fun, which they had served,
had passed; and the other half amazed and sheck-
Ed at results nevpr anticipated or suspected, sor
rowfully acknowledged the idle words they had
spoken were mere gossip—completely, entirely
without foundation ; that the whole thing had arisen
from a wish to teaze Mr. Il.ty, and passing from
mouth to mouth, had been iepeaied by some who
knowing nothing of the case or its merits, choose
to imagine a gossiping supposition a fast; and so at
last, wh it was at the onset but mere fancy and sug
gestion, became rr.agni{jed and exaggerated into
reality,
" 1 wish for ail your sakes, young people, that 1
could describe the remorse, not only of those who
had borne thus idly " false witness against tneir
neighbor," but the wordless grie; of the rash old
man who had been misled by it. B th were terii
ble, because all repentance and sorrow v.ere una.
vailing. A brave man been done to death by
scandalous tongues; and now his gentle, faithful,
unofietuling betrothed, was following him to the
grave.
" Over that grave, soon opened for both father
and child, I took the solemn resolution with which
1 began my tale, never either to be seduced into
speaking idle words, which if constructed literally
or unfaithfully, might work sorrow or wrong to
others; or sutler such to be spoken in my hearing,
without at least striving to obtain that explanation,
which would deprive them of power to do harm.
" For neatly forty years i have kept my vow,
and 1 hope I have done some good by it. It has
made me some enemies, and thwarted some mis
chief ; but for the sake of the last, I am content to
accept the first, and to go on. Say, Miss Lowther,
am I right V'
" Perfectly."
" Frankly said, young lady, " replied Mr. Falco
ner, holding out his hand. " You will not con
demn me then if, taking you at your word, 1 en
treat that the " idle words,"—nay, do not flinch—
which have deprived M;ss Rayner of a situation,
may be repeated, scruiitii/.ed and explained."
"Oh!" replied Miss Lowther, with an embar
rassed laugh, "this is taking me at my word, in
deed."
" Yes; and let rne hope that the result may be
good—" idle words," meaning to my fancy noth
ing ; and as the equally groundless inferences there
from have, in our circle at least, ruined a girl's
character, and prevanted, as far as the influence ol
auy one in this house goes, her earning her living;
now it is not lair and just that these words should
be explained i"
" Y'es 1 dare say it is; but I have forgotten them .
only the impression remains."
" But 1 have not," said the old man. " In here,"
and he drew forth the memorandum book in which
I had observed liirn writing, " I took down short
hand notes ail of that Mrs. Fordham said ; all the
half sentences and unmeaning phrases ol which so
much was made.
" 0!i, Mr. Falconer," cried Miss Lowther and
Mrs. Fordham together; " what a teriible compa
nion you are ; it's not safe to he with you. 1 had
no idea you were an Inquisitor. Private con versa
lion—--
" Should never be carried to dangerous lengths.
You must forgive me il l use plain words. I would
not willingly otieiul you ; but the practice and re
solution of forty years must not be broken now. I
hope to make converts of jyou both ; and as a first
step, I must ask Mrs. Lindesay what nnpiession
your remarks, Mrs. Fordham, and the comments
of Miss f.owther, made upon tier."
" Gh, i don't know. Nay, don't bring me in ; f
detest fending anil proving."
Nay, Mis Lindesay, you are not doing your
self justice ;. your are too good hearted to detest
anything that may do a fellow creature service, and
put honest bread in tiro mouth of an orphan."
Ob, yes of course, I hope so. But all these in
vestigations are so dreadfully unpleasant."
"So they are, and so is scandal; and, to escape
the one yon must avoid the other. But that we're
all agreed upon ;so trow to business. Why have
you refused your interest to Miss Uayner?"
" Well, ready—upon my word, Mr Falconer,"
said our hostess, half amused, h:\lfatironted, " one
would think Miss Uayner had retained you as her
counsel."
"Alee Hay did in behalf of all mankind," was
Uie solemn reply. '• But mv question is why did
yon refuse your interest to Miss Uayner?"
" Because—because—t really can't define why
o
exactly. 1 had an unpleasant impression."
'• From what ?"
'' Oh, | can't say precisely ■ the tono of the con
vcrsatinn—the remarks."
" I though so,land now to analyze these remarks
Mrs. Fordham's are those you allude to 1 suppose."
" Yes, and Miss Lowthei's ; of course, no one
else knew the girl."
'•'Oh, I know nothing about her," Juried Anuc ;
f { pray don't involve me deeper, Mrs. Lindesay. I
only judged from what Mrs. Fordham said."
" And what did Mrs. Fordham say?" asked
Mr. Falconer, tproing to his book. " Why, first,
than slie didn't know hall the people in C , and
that the liayners were quite out of her way. Both
of which are very common circumstances, and
perfectly compatible with the respectability oI each
party. However, as this was the key stone of the
whole, 1 will ask Mrs. Fordham to be so good as
to explain what she meant by these expressions."
" Nothing. Ido not know a quarter of the C—,
people; and Mr. and .Mrs. Uayner were quite out
of my way, as they kept a great deal of expensive
and fashionable company, which I could not atford
to do. consequently we seldom met."
" Very well. Now the next thing I find down
is (hat you say '• yog had no particular reason for
avoiding the Hayners; and upon this mysterious
remark being seized hold, of, as evidence that you
did avoid them ; but they were a good deal talk
ed ol."
" Yes, they were. Mr. Uayner's partner died
suddenly, having involved the firm very much,
and the people said that the Rayttcrs were very
foolish to live i.i such style as they did—they ou B ht
to retrench."
" AP.J they did not?''
" < >h, yes, they did at last; they sold their house
at J P u ' down their carriages, and come intq
the town."
Ila! Well, to goon. The next remark was
on Miss Rayner's reference, whom you slated " ta
have been Mr. Rayner's lawyer, and that at one
lime it was said—" what you did not state. May
I ask for the conclusion ol the sentence?"
" I don't quite remember what I meant when (
said that; but I suppose it was that there was a tu
mor of Mr. Bentley being engaged to Mr ftaynar'a
younger sister."
" Oil ! then were there any peculiar circumstan
ces which prevented the match, and of which you
thought when you said, " that the tale might be ali
a fabrication—that it was long ago, and that he had
married since V—all sentences which to very ima
ginative people, wouliiconvey the idea that some
thing rather disgraceful was attached to the broker,
courtship "
" Oh, dear no—at least, nothing at ail disgraoe
fn! to the lady or the Rayners quite the contrary.—
Simply that Miss Churion gave up her fortune to
assist her brother-in-law to meet his creditors, and
that Mr. Bentley's father refused his consent to his
sori's marriage with a portionless and romantic girl.
There was a great deal 6aid at the time, a great
many rumors, and I dare say a great many stories ,
but none that i remember as injurious to Miss
Churton."
"Thank you. Then, on the whole, you know
nothing in any way detrimental or derogatory to
Miss icayner }" ,
" No: except that people said they were an cx
travnsant, dashing set."
" That ia they lived up to the fortune thpy sup
posed they had ; and when they lost it relinquished
their house, carriages, and style, and were assisted
to pay their debts, in which others had involved
ihem, by a relative, whose generosity had cos! he:
a husband V
" Yes."
" Well then, Mrs. Lindesay, as we have now
repeated the whole of the conversation, I must ask
for which of ail these sins you discard Miss Ray
ner; and in which parts of all that Mrs. Fordham
fias said, do you, Miss Lowther, find a ground fo:
the inference that she is unworthy of notice?"
",I do not say that she is unworthy ; but I main
tain that \ was fully justified in supposing her to
be so, from the tone of Mrs. Fordham ! s remark
yesterday."
" I agree with you. Anne : though I must con
fess, as I said at the time, that if you had not arous
ed my- suspicions by pointing out the ambiguity of
Mrs Fordham's—
" Oa ! spare me," cried Mrs. Fordham, earnest,
ly. " Sorely lam not at all to blame. You were
prejudiced against Miss Rayner when I cams
home ; anil hall the disjointed sentences, to which
so much meaning that I never intended was given,
sere broken by yourselves. If they had been fin
ished—"
There was a storm gathering in Anne Lowther's
angry eye at this implied accusation and to di
vert it, Mr. Falconer said—
Lot us not waste lime now in determining who
had hr-en most or least to blamo. That idle,
thoughtless words have been spoken, we all agree
and lament, but happily (or our future peace, their
worthlessness had been discovered before the mis
chief they have done haJ time to be accomplish?
Ed : tor satisfied in my own mind from what you
all said yesterday, and what I saw of Miss Ray
ner myself, that she was innocent of any sin except
poverty, 1 went la her residence this morning, saw
and interrogated both hpr and her mother, and an
ticipating the present result, have not only taken
tiie liberty of requesting her to come here to mor
row, but have actually gone sc far as to promise
her the reward of your best interest, Mrs. Lindcsay.
Nay, don't frown;l know that in your heart you
commend me, and I expect not only praise, but
thanks, when 1 tell you that on my way home I
met two men from C , who knew the Raynets
in their palmy days, who have promised a sub
scription of rive guineas a year to the funds of the
school, so long as F.llen Rayner is governess there.''
Two men !" repealed Anne Lowthcr in a low
significant voice.
The tone caught Mr. Falconer's car. Flo turned
!ia-iily round ; and the look, half hall
pity, which he gave the incorrigible scandal mon
ger, brought even a flush to her check. Then ho
said slowly and sternly
" Yes, Miss Lowihcr, two men. Mail in Iho
highest sense ol the world—men who can feel for
iho fatherless and widow, and who think the knife
of the assassin far less infamous and cowardly than
the slander which, without foundation, foals away
a woman's credit and good name.
" Hut lost the fact of these gentlemen's subscrip
tion should be tortured into mischief, I beg to pay
that-* one of them is the rector of C and the
other your good old grandfather; both of whom are,
1 trust, even safe from IDLE WORDS 1"
A SCOTCH RECOGNITION —A Scotch woman,
when en her way to Glasgow, met two young sai
tors, ono of whom abruptly accosted he—
" How arc you, good woman 7 How have you
been this long time ! '
Looking with surprise at the young man, whom
she did not remember to have seen before, she
said:
" I canna say I ken you, sir."
" Not know me, olj woman ! 1 am the devil's
sister's son."
" Are yc the devil's sister's son , hech, when I
take a better look of you, tnon, but you are hko
your uncle."
REVENGEFUL —An liisliniuii lost his hat in a
well and was let down in a bucket lu recover it ,
the well being deep, his courage failed him before
he reached the water. In vain did he call to those
above him . they lent a deaf ear to all he said, till
at length, quite in despair, he bellowed out, "By
St Patrick it you don't be af er diawiu' me up suit,
I'll cut the rope."
HpSEISSg