The Lehigh register., July 14, 1869, Image 1

ADVERTISING RATES.
•
•31. 1 mo. 3 mos. 6 mos. 1 vr..
Jae Square. . . 1.50 1.73 3.10 01.(21 10.03
two Squares ".. . . 3.00 9.30 1' 3./21 10.0 ULM
Timm Squares . 4.81 3.00 11.00 13.00 21 01
Biz Square., . . . &ft) 13.00 21.00 40.01
Quarter Column.
10.00 WOW „33.00 60.001
Half Column . .• . 13. W 21.60 110.00 WOO
One Column 25.00 30.00 8203 16000
Professional Card. .1.00 per line per year.
Administrator'. and Auditor'. Notice., 03.01
City Notices. %, cent. per line blt Insertion, 13 cont. per
line melt subsequent Insertion..
Ton lines agate constitute a ageism.
•
ROBERT IREDELL, Jn., Ptanasunn,
ALLENTOWN, PA
Xtbitinal
TIIDE BLINSISQUOI POWDER AC
..11-
tually cures Cantor and Scrofulous diseason of lito
Skin. Sea Report to L. I. Medical Society, augl alateinents
of Physicians in circular, neat free on application to
CIIAS. A. DIIIIOIB. aeneral Agent,
P. 0. Box IMO. 152 Pearl Street, New rk.
July 7-im
NO CURE, NO PAY!
DR. H.. 1). LONGAKER,
°militate of tho University of Penntylvania, at Phlladel.
leadhi., hat been in nurconsful practiro for unlimber of years
l parts of the United States{ will promptly at
to all branches of his protection ut hit rooms,
Haat able of Stxth aired, bet. Hamilton and Walnut
ALLENTOWN, I'A.
No Patent Medicines are mod or recoMmended; the Wm
edict adminlidered are theme which will not break down
the corintliution, but renovate the nyttem from all 'Wade.
It lint austained from mineral medichtet, mud leave it to n
healthy and perfectly cared condition. •
CONSUMPTION, lIIIONCIIIT/S. DYSPEPSIA,
and all dial:taxer of the Lungs, Throat, Stomach, and Liv
er, which yearly carry thouranda to unthuly gravex, can
undoubtedly be cured.
MELANCHOLY ABERRATION,
that state of alienation and weakness of the mind which
fo renders
ing th persons Incapable of enjoying the pleasuresof, or
rmo dullos of life.
RIIETIMATISM AND PARALYSIS,.
In ally form or condition, chronic or acute, warranted cur
able. Epilepsy or falling sickness, uud chronic or stub-
Infra mull of F EMALE DISEASES speedily and radically
removed; Salt Rheum, Skin Diseases (ofyears' standing)
every descriptin of Ulcerations, Piles and Scrofulous di.
eases, warranted cured or no pay.
Xi - Particular attention given to private diseases of
every description of both sexes. •
Ladles angering from any complaint incidental to their
sex, can consult the doctor with easurauco of relief.
Cancer cured, and Tumors of all kinds removed without
the knife or drawing blood. Diseases of the
EYE AND EAR,
aucessfullrand effectually removed or no charge made.
,drq• Dr. Lougaker wtll make visits any dlittauco If de.
sired; can bn addressed by letter (confidentially) and med.
Win neat with proper directions to nay part of the county.
Omen: East side of Sixth street, between Ilamlllon and
Walnut, Allentown, I's. apeal-ly
D n. HUTCHINSON'S
VEGETABLE
WORM DESTROYER
Is the beet Worm Medicine fur removing the small seat
Worms from children, without mating the child nick. as
Other worm medicines do. It will also remove the tape
worm and tho stomach worm.
IT IS AS PLEASANT TO TAKE AB CANDY
NO MEDICINE TO DE GIVEN AFTER IT.
PRICE 25 CENTS A BOX.
GOLD DT ♦LL DIVOOD , Ti ADD COLTTUT DDALLDS
De aura and sea you get Dr. Hutchloson's Vegetable
Worm Destroyer. gee that each box la wrapped lo a yel
low wrapper. If your druggist should not have It ask
him to get It for you.
JOHNSON, HOLLOWAY Jc COWDEN,
I=
NATURE'S GREAT RESTORER.
SHEET Z' S
CELEBRATED
BITTER CORDIAL.
This medical preparation is nosd offered to the public as
a reliable substitute for the many worthless compounds
which now flood the market. It Is purely vegetable,com.
posed of various herbs, gathered from the great storehouse
of nature and selected with the utmost care. It is not re
couttneuded as a cure all, but by its direct and salutary la=
lot.° %lon the
b heart, liver, kidneys, lungs, stomach
w h t l l Cll ' Zli ' ors u o y r=r a o n s d oVlZt , . " lt is t y s
reliable family medicine and can be token by either Infant
Or adult with the Fame beneficial results. It Is a certain,
prompt and speedy • remedy for Diarrhrea, Dysen . tery,
Bowel Complaint, Dyspepsia, Lowness of Spirits, Faint
ing!, Sick Headache, dm. kor Chills nod Fevers of all
kinds It Is far better and enter ttun.444 1 . 1 10uk.."•
powerfuld.u-iaWerei countorsok!uo arras of
liquor to *few, alliatto?!,'.. 140,Par,
JJ,con ifdUBJCrZ, SOLE pBOPR IBTOII,
N. li r e Co:: 'Foca . cind'Race, .Phaadeiphia
Ingo? .6 tip ine pnuo t
M'CAVIIKENIS SPANISII *LAIR
CEWlNgSM:Wnrilinlogr u ito l Te f gg
Dolled possesses co lt peculiar properties which no exactly
Ault the various ditionn of the human hair. The ago of
thin oil an country r esser h. been universal In every ...-
Mon of the in the Spanish Main for centuries. No
preparation of art could give that elegant luxuriance and
abundance of hair which have en often ...the admiration
of traveler. In Spate. Thin 01l is highly and delicately
perfumed, forming an article nurivaled In extellence and
upon which the tipaulth people fur loony years have set
the seal of enduring approval,
EMEEEI
MEXICAN 11 7 ILD FLOWER 811.4311'00 LOTION,
For removing dandruff atul scurf from the head, Nyhttaking
sltd perfuming the skin. This article Is entirely Memel
front auything ° f ;hp kind eyor °Mersa In this country and
Warrauted free item all poisonous substauces. This
valuable lotion Was used by the Emperor tun e dllaximi aid
Empress Charlotta of Mexico, an d uni v ersally by
Mexicans for three hundred years. An a wash for the
head It is coc ling, clesusing =ld refreshing. Whoa thus
used it at once relieves headache.
IMO (TIRE'S WILD FLOWERS TIM THE TEETH.
All these who are In favor of white teeth and a pleasant
and perfumed breath should at ones use McGuire's Wild
Viewers for the Teeth. All these preparations aro put up
la the most elegant and ornamental manner. We make no
exception in saying that they aro on °nutmeat to a lady'.
toilet table, suit none can be complete without them.
Warranted ■atisfactory or money. refunded. Malan
will bear this in mind. Sold by all respectable druggists
Its the Milted States and Cauadas. Address orders to
RICHARD IdcOUIRIL
DEPOT AND NADOPAOTORT,
No. 26 North Second St., Philadelphia, Pa
o sopt
darpcto aitb Oil Clotb.
AND ELEGANT
CARPETS, OIL CLOTH, &C
B. C. FOULK
iillarootineA tho
CARPET BUSINESS
At No. 19 SOUTH SECOND STREET, PHILADELPHIA
(below liarket.)
With a soleudid usortment of CARPETS, which will be
sold at a •er small admee. Also, new able Ca la,
Brussels patterns, at 90 and 02!( coals. Tho best goods for
the price aver °Eared. ape 111-Sto
TIIE CARPET AND OIL CLOTH
oy
E, S, SHIMER & CO.,
NOS. 5 AND 7 WEST HAMILTON ST
ALLANTOWN PA
REPLENISHED
In all Ile Wont wlettem, Ityles and pattern..
PRICES REDUCED
Wo keep for aala oil Os) following popular makes
BODY nituespLs,
• 6
FRANK ENGLISH,
6 PRANK monon, •
. 6 FRANK IfARTEORD,
ENGLISH TAPESTRY,
. OHOSSINBY'S TSAESTDY,
STODRAIa TAPESTRY
SMITH .TAPESTRY,
HARTFORD & LOWELL, extra 3 ply,
IMPERIAL, extra 9 ply,
MEDIUM SUPERFINE, 9 ply,
SMITH TAPESTRY INGRAIN,
PIIILA. SUPERFINE d
PHILADELPHIA FINE INGRAIN, •
PHILADELPHIA COMMON INGRAIN,
PHILADELPHIA WOOL INGRAIN, do.
WINDOW SHADES
CURTAINS
01.44V1RT Ii1; 8 01 1 1PTIoN, MLR ANA ANION,
HONEY,
A prime article of Honey at the •Old Corner Store," a
the lowest market price. ♦ liberal dleeouut to Bakers an ,
others ming In quantity for making bread, ke.
July 7.3, M, J. KRAMER.
VOL. XXIII.
larp &cobs.
FOSTER' S
PRICE LIST.
Conte & Clark 'lt Cotton. 7e., others charge 10c.
Ladles' White Hose, 125,c., other. charge Is.
Better quality, Me., others alarm... E..
•
Fitter quality, Ikl, 30, 35 4.5 c.
You can 11110C101 Hosiery from nto WC. II pair by boy
Log ol us.
Splendid Yard•wide Muslin, 12%c.. others charge 13c.
lion as Wamsulta, 15c., others charge 20c.
Beet Wammutta Muslin, 22c., ethers charge
Heaviest Brow. Meeting, 15c., other. charge
rote eill, save from 3 to a cents per yard by busying
Magnus of us.
Best Merrimack Prints, 12iic. others charge 16,
Best Paper Muslim., 12 1 r., tit , he,s charge ltic.
Double-width Alpacas, 31c., others charge
Fineruality Alpacaa,g7,isc., others chargu ilk.
Very title Alpacas. 50c., others charge Mc.
81111 Finer Alpacas, gaping, good., 111, 75, SW., and $1 00.
You can save front 15 to 50 cents per ',mod by baying
Alpacas of ta.
Dent Spring DeLalues, 18c. When. charge 27c.
Plaid Dressthiedn, ahem charge:tic.
Uubleached Table Diaper DM., others charge 80c•
Extra Wlde and Hear y Sc . , others charm, $1 tO.
Bleached Bnow Drop Diaper, 65e., others charge Pik.
Damank Table Diaper, 75c., others charge $1 00.
Very due Damask, $1 03, others charger $1 70.
Ton can forefront MN (0 cents by baying Table Illn•
per, al
Heavy Blue Denims, 2.1 c., others charge:l(kt.
Better quality 31c.,others charge 40c.
(loud Straw 'Picking, lee., others charge :3k.
Better quality, 250., others charge 33c,
Very Heavy nod Good, Me., others charge 45c.
Fins all wool Flannel, 375 e., uthera charge tec.
You can care from 5 to iXt cents per yard by buying
these goods of us.
Best Kentucky Jean 40 and 43c., others charge 00.
All Wool Ciwsinieres, 73c., others charge $1 00.
0l 50.
pl, other.
others 00.
Plaid Shirtlag Flannels, 30., tatters charge 45c,
Fine Linen Napkins, $1 63 per doh., others charge $3 60.
Finer qualities. $2 110 per doh., ethers charge $3 W.
You can save from lot° 75 cents per yard bie Laying
thesegoods ott" us.
•
Black Silk, 01 60, others charge $0 00.
Heavy Black 811 km, 112 25, others charge $3 00.
Very heavy Corded, ga 10, others charge $(1 30.
Handsome 811 k Poplins, $1 00, others charge $1 75.
Plain Colored Silk Poplins, $1 37‘5, others charge $2 23.
• Catered Dress Silks, 42 25, others charge 40
You can tare from 50 cent, to 51 CO by looming Silks
fo,
Good glair Carwts, 23e., others charge •
Finer quality, Oc., other+ charge ale.
Yard wide Ingrain, 115 e., °there charge $1 00.
Very heavy Ingrain. $1 00, other. chant. $1 Ilk
Theta are Auction Carpets and and awful cheap
We specially request our customers to bring thin with
hem that they may IMO we sell exactly at we advent..
FOSTER'S
NEW YORK CITY STORE,
Opposite Oermau Reformed Church,
ALLENTOWN, PA
66 SUDDEN CMiNGE."
VILL LO Y PRICES INFLUENCE YOU?
OLD NIMES AGAIN
IMMENSE REDUCTION IN PRICES
AGENTS,
Philo& Iphls
THE OLD CORNER
STOCK OF SPRING GOODS,
EU=
qu ill mull etturtot be gunneleed
f2r Competition defied with any other Establishment
outside of the larger eities._fe
SPACE WILL NOT PERMIT OF NAMING ouch itit
Im
manse stock of goodo but let It .111. to oily that we have
the moot COMPLETE asoortment of Ladies' Dregs Goodo,
Ore. Mike, Popllno, tilinwlx, Raimondo, House Purtdoli
lug Goods, Ladies . Cloaking Cloth, Men'n Wear to
Caxelmer.,_&e., end everything' that .ii kept In FI EST
CLASS DRY 000D5 STORE In radicles varietA Idu not
"QUOTE PRICES" an sumo houses l v ai t
• IIi s aWLAIN UTF IU.
The difference Murices of goods to-day, sad a mouth ago,
is rattily painful for those who have beou caught• with
large st.no on hand at high prices, but as that in uot the
caee with me, I shall as heretofore make the OLD COlt-
NEIL
E GREAT PLACE OF INTEREST
AND HEADQUARTERS
Le musses to get 11111? goods nt tile
LOWEST MARKET PRICES
1 fully realise that no permatteut Kllrreset Call be achieved
unless the promises held out by advertisements aro found
to be fully sustained on a visit to the store. Nor can it be
a Into success without ocrupuleuely reliable and fair
dealing at all times and uniform courtesy to every custo
mer, and the endeavor to make every buyer a coustaut
dealer. All 1 ask Is 'Amply to decide by octant frfal
whether or not It is to your advantage to berme° a custo-
Re.peetfully
M. J. FRAMER,
a 9Ln CORNER,"
OPPOSITE THE EAGLE HOTEL
sprit 14
EttlaUbcs, 3etaeltu, kc
WATCHES. JEWELRY,
SILVER AND PLATED WARE
• AT
4 CHARLES S. MASSEY'S,
No. 4l Bast Hamilton street. opponite the Oormno lie
formed Church.
Snot received from New York and Phil
ad r elphle, all the latent etyles• •
GOLD WATCHES.
a Na l elts t v h e e r i gers i ttg l ein t b i Trgrgs o e f u 9 h o e i r d e. W"ia"
SILVER WATCHES.
than can be iiugghtigahVgreVartete.ut of Silver Wa " 1 "
GOLD JEWELRY:
11 ,, Lao thelargest and hest annortmont of all kinds I
Oold Jewelry,
• GILT AND PLATED JEWELRY.
mai= IlleerliT'Ll:Vgnatlotforetftenli,:hketild. of 01
SILVER AND PLATED WARE.
l " rLan"S Silver
d'tiTn
sATe" .t2Ztli
CLOCKS.
A larger assortment than at any other establishment.
MELODEONS.
assortment of Princei• Melodeons, the bent I
the
ACCORDEONS.
A splendid assortment of all kinds of Accordeone
Ills establishment has lately been fitted up, and is now
second to none In New York and Philadelphia . and ahead
of anything outside the large Otte., Ile has a larger stock
of floihionnble goods in his lino than all others in Lehigh
county combined. To convince yourselves of the above
call end see,
KELLER & BROTHER,
NO. 27 WEST HAMILTON ST.
ALLENTOWN, PA;
CLOCKS,
well regulated and warranted, All aloes and prices, Cr.
ICI WM..edit. A larger amlurtnient Of •
GOLD AND SILVER WATCHES,
than can he found in any Other store In the ally.
JEWELRY OF ALL KINDS,
SILVER WARE,
of every description.
aliirWatcheovepalred on Short Notice,
G EORGE WENNER,
FLOUR, GRAIN AND PRODUCE .
COMMISSION & SHIPPING MERCHANT
No. 215 Booth Water St., Chicago, 111. •
.q-Particular attention given to Eastern shipmeut
REFEBENCES:
0. W. Butts & B 0., Chicago Saeger d: Bro„, Allentown,
b W eril i g k .,l4
westod., & t ow ant; l uoshong nro„ " liancers. Bead
ing, Pa.; U. 0. Onanget. Bethlehem. Pa.; John Hoffer,
Harrisburg, Pa.; Jobs pahnstock, 11111 way, Lancaster
county Pa.; doseph Helnley. Sweetland Centre. lowa.
au(
JEALNEN
,
J. - I.IIOTOORA.PHER.
(late of Philadelphho has takes the Gallery,
No. la EAST HAMILTON STREET,
t.sl,l74lttggi,doiri.lll64aAretWeii w h ere APB'S=
zsLA alt IC tr.S. A trial Is all that Is needed to satisfy every
=lair CM! W e lltaNt'ouvr.llr. l °Veg:
types, lielanletypee. sant/Poe. eive air Il ia
49.11 .1111 i Btieceesor to H. P. Lataerens.
,
. .
. le
b i o b 'sew.
e lli ft//, , ~ •
I ':' .-',
V
11111 CV
.
Ala opened an CllOllllOllll
IMIIDI=M!1!I
ALLENTO \VN, PA., WEDNESDAY MORNING, JULY 14, 1869
(FHOM IIAHI•I:It.A
LAMM: IL
I=
Yes, leer 1111111 e was 1)010reS ; Slid yet how
could one associate ideas of grief or pain with
so bright a creature ? There was a sort of
breezy freshness about her, a sunny ardor, that
made her the type - 7517R that was joyous atd
; brilliant ; andlis she stood in the porch, with
a great bunch of violets in her hands, from time
to time plunging her face into the fragrant
purple'and inhaling long breaths or spring
perfume anti delight, she seemed a creature
sorrow could not touch or care dim.
There she stood in the sunshine, looking
out from beneath the fringes or herlhick eye.
lashes at God's beautiful world, singing un
conscious hymns of gratitude and love, rejoic
ing in the beauty of the.spring with a radiant
fullness of rejoicing.
She was no vaporous golden-haired blonde.
but a 111.111 healthy brunette, With a cheek that
was " like the Catharine pear, the side that's
next the sun ;" her eyes were long and brown,
her teeth small, white, and regular ; her ntihe
bewitching, her pout irresistible. She, had
the figure ofa young nymph ; and her feet, of
the true Andalusian typic as welras her slim
form and easy carriage, she had inherited
from her Spanish mother. She raid an air of
nobleness above and beyond her beauty—
which was positive enough—that made her
slightest gesture harmony, grace, delight.
And then that wild, fresh, breezy carelessness
—how irresistible it was!
Now she stood with her nosegay in lijr hand
and her face grew serious as she thought of
her poor, weak, spiritless old father, in his
small poky suburban house ; of her hard, stin
gy, narrow-minded half-sister, who managed
that meagre household, and who hail never
got over her father's second marriage, though
his beautiful young Spanish wile had died
during the Peninsular War, soon after the
birth of Dolores in Spain. Rebecca had nev
er seen her step-mother, but she resented her
half-sister's existence as a personal injury, and
was unjust and hard upon the young: girl,
preaching at her by day anti night, year in
year out, with "a pretty hoard of maxims,"
well calculated to make that young ardent na
ture writhe beneath the yoke.
But, fortunately for Dolores, her mother's
small fortune had been devoted to her educa
tion, and she had been sent to school, where,
among girls of a class superior to her own,
she had formed friendships and imbibed a
grace of manner and address which scented
strangely out of place in the murky little
house at Kensington.
Oftentimes it seemed to the old doting fath
er as though the beloved and beautitld An
nunziata of his middle age had come back to
lull him once more with sweet, soothing .ca
resses, or to enliven hhin with bewildering
flights of graceful caprice ; but all these things
he hid in his heart, fearing the cold and un
sympathetic eye of the more prosaic ltebecca.
And now Dolore's education was comple
ted, and at seventeen site had come down to
visit her uncle and aunt, who lived in a quaint
Elizabethan dwelling under the shadow of
Edgehill, farmjnw
ftocks andlierds, gathering their tipples and
honey, and enjoying the unbroken calm of a
tranquil existence, with all the , simplicity of
guileless unemotional characters.
Dolores did not look more Spanish than
half a lmndred English girls 1 know. Rebec
ca called her Dorothy ; her Aunt and Skelling
ton, " Dolly ;" her father, " Dolores ;" and
Stapleton, "Miss Skellington." "Don't call
me Miss Skeilington," she said to Win one day,
".that's Rebecca's name ; call me Dolores."
" But would that be proper !" " Yes, for you
it's quite proper," site said, "because you are
old, and all that kind of thing, you know,"
Mr. Stapleton winced, and never called her
any thing (to her face, at least) but Miss Site
ftington. lie overheard his pupil, Lord St.
Vincent, call her "Dolores," with secret
wrath and pain, as the two young people were
sportively mocking and teasing each other in
the garden ; but ns he only overheard it, he
could give no sign, unless calling St. Vincent
into the house in an angry voice almost imme
diately afterward might be so designated.
"'There's the pious Euiears howling after
me," said St. Vincent, calmly, "where lie
fends this bear must follow, you know."
" He's a cross old wretch," answered Do-
lures sweetly ; "hut 1 wish you wouldn't call
me ' Doltires ;' you're not old enough to do
that."
But never dues."
Well, give Inc that rose— '
My love Is like the red, red rose
That's newly spring in June."
She gave him the rose. Ile struck it in his
button-hole with that gay, debonair manner
which was destined live years later to capti
vate so many fine ladies' hearts, and bowing
gallanty to Dolores, who laughed, and asked
qini "who was his dancing-master ?" &par
ed. -
Hobert Stapleton's heart gave a great throb,
and his brow was gloomy. "Come," he
said, "it is time that we should be going ;
you have scarcely worked at all to-day."
As the two men strode away through the
evening sunshine, Lord St. Vincent turned,
and gracefully raised his hat to Dolores, who
stood in the porch watching them: Mr. Sta
pleton turned also ; he saw his pupil's grace
ful greeting, he saw the answering smile and
nod, he saw the "red, and rose" flaming in
St. Vincent's , button-hole. Ile had seen
enough ; his voice was harsh and dry when
next he spoke. "We must not be so idle "
lie said ; " your guardians will be disappoint
ed, my lord, if I do not fulfill my part of
the agreement ; great things arc expacted of
you ; you must study more and idle less."
St. Vincent looked surprised. Mr. Staple
ton only called him "my lord" when he was
displeased ; but the easy-natured young man
put it down to "Stapleton's crankiness," and
Whistling gayly, said isimething about the
weather being so "confoundedly hot."
Meanwhile Dolores had. turned Into 'the
house. Her good-natured placid aunt was
knitting a bedquilt ; Mr. Skelllngton was
yawning over the county paper.
"Good-night, aunt," said Dolores, looking
round her rather drearily ;."I am tired, and
think I will go to bed."
" That's right, Dolly ; beauty-sleep is the
best cosmetic. I wish, child, you wouldn' go
so much In the sun‘without a hat or bonnet:"
"The sun does not burn me, aunt ; I'm
the same color summer or winter. That's
one advantage being dark, you know."
"Never mind, my girl ; you'll wear well,"
said her uncle from his arm-chair.
"I don't mind. uncle," said Dolores; "
like it ; my mother was so ; I like to he like my
mother." -
•
Good.night, chil int\ilon' t think too
much of your looks."
"No, uncle," said Dolores; but as she
walked:up Stairs she sang ly to herself:
" My love Is like the red, red rose
That's newly sprung In Juno;
My love Is like the melody
That's sweetly played In tune."
Then, when lie got Into her room, she set
down the candle before the looking-glass, and
tint twisted the heavy coils of thick black hair
which were wound round her graceful little
'head. The shook the long snaky coils out
over her white dressing-gown, and then looked
at herself once more in the glass.
I musn't think too notch of what he says,"
she whispered to herself; " perhaps he is only
laughing at me, and trying to see how vain I
am. I will write to papa, and then I shall for
get what I ought not to remember."
She brought out her little desk, and was soon
busily occupied in writing to the fond, fattish
old man in the shabby little house at Kensing
ton :
"DEAR PAVA"8111; wrote—" I have been very
idle about writing lately ; n t the weather has been
so line anti so warm that I have lived out ofdoors.
They sire very kind to me here, and I should be
quiet happy but for the thought of you, anti the
fear that you may be dull without me. I hope
you go into the Kensington Gardens every day ;
nee not the trees and flowers beautiful this year?
But London trees and flowers can not be like these,
where the air is so soft and pure, and where there
are no smoky chimneys and no horrid (lust. I
hope Rebecca does not give you rice-pudding too
often. It often seems to me that I ant very selfish.
eating so many good things aud enjoying so many
pleasures without you. But then I may as well
eat and enjoy as leave them ; for in that case
neither of is be the better. lam very tired to
night, so I will only say once more that I am very
happy, ;Ina often think of you: Give toy love to
Rebecca. Uncle and aunt tom me always to scud
theirs when I wrote. I kiss your clear old bald
head a thousand times, and remain your
" DARLING DOLORES
" P.S.—Mr. Stapleton, who Is our clergyman,
and his pupil, Lord St. Vincent, arc here some
times. Mr. Stapleton Is very severe and has gray
hair. Lord St. Vincent Is a boy, and a good-na
tured one. I was at school with his cousin, Miss
Dalrymple."
With the tears standing In his weak old
eyes, Captain Skefllngton read this letter at
breakfast to his daughter Rebecca, discreetly
omitting the allusion to the rice puddings.
" Saucy little minx l" he said, fondly,
"there's a lord making love to her, and she
cares no more for it than though he were a
witgontr."
I don't sec any thing about making love,"
said Itebt , eca, curtly ; " but if you think so,
you'd better have her home 'directly ; her
head will be, turned by nil this folly and non
sensical admiration."
No," cried the old man fondly, '" her head
won't he turned ; she's been used to it all her
life. Didn't my poor fellows carry her about,
and pass her from one to another when there
was no woman to look after her ; and didn't
she reign over us all like a little queen ?"
" Stuff," said Rebecca, Impatiently.
" nd now," said the old nmn, still ramb
ling on abopt his ewe-lamb, and entirely dis
regarding his Regan's contemptuous inter
ruption—" now isn't she fit society for any
one ? Wouldn't the greatest nobleman be,
proud of such a jewel in leis coronet ? And is
she not more graceful, and cleverer, and gayer
and better than any other girl ? Why should
I take her away when she is so happy. V
"By all means let her remain," snapped
Rebecca ; "she can scarcely •be in a worse
school Man this."
._.,..~-„-,rmnwi~,~ — tic
moon Ivas high in the helivens, and n soft"'
warm breeze was moving the dusty fragrimt
air, as she stood at the end of the garden, and
leaned upon the fence which divided it from
the field below. She was soon to go home;
she was to leave her gay, happy, careless life
behind her, and was to return to that small
daily tread-mill routine, so bare, so hard, so
wearisome. She shivered as she thought of
all the small economies of Rebecca's pinching
and saving ; of the nipping of „lights and
screwing of tires ; of the tallow-candles and
rice-puddings. No more morning sunshines
upon her fragrant lavender-scented bed ; no
more joyful springs-up with that sense of en
joyment in the coming day which seemed to
include all happiness in itself ; no momlin
gering over ample breakfasts, where the cream
and the eggs, and the bread and the butter,
tasted as no mortal food surely ever tasted be
fore ; no more wanderings over the fields ; no
more nuutfight walks or merry hay-makings,
or harvese-homes ; no more fragrant Breath of
placid cows or cooing of wood-pigeons ; no
more cakes and ale ; no more sparring with
Lord St. Vincent, or silent listenings to Mr.
Stapleton's graver and more polished talk.
Poor little Dolores I her heart was very Leavy
and as she sighed a hand was placed upon her
own. It was St. Vincent's.
•' My lord !" she said, startled, and with*
something of shy dignity ; "I thought you
had left an hour ago with Mr. Stapleton."
" So I did, Dolores ; but I left my stick be
hind me, and have come to fetch it. Besides,
I wanted to say something to you. Dolores,
I ant going away."
" And so am I," said Dolores, ruefully.
" Ah, but that is.different. lam going on
the grand tour, as they call it, and• sha'n't be
hack for two years or more ; and I want you
to promise you won't forget me, Dolores.''
" I shall never forget this happy summer."
" Nor me ?"
" Nor any body,"
" I don't care about auy body. I want you
pfonitse to remember me."
" I slain often think of you and Mr. Staple-
EMI
" Oh, hang Stapleton I" said the young loan,
impatiently.
" But I like Mr. Stapleton," said Dolores;
adding simply, "he has been very good to
-on."
" Good to me ! Of course he's been good
to me; but 'I haven't been bad to him. I
don't want to hear about him now ; I have
had enough and to, spare of him any time dur
ing the last three months. I want you to say
you won't forget me."
"No ; I won't forget you."
" Say, ' I won't forget you, Hugh ;' then I
'shall believe it."
• But Dolores Made no more professions ; she
stood silently looking Into the field with a
mist before .her eyes, and a dim, dull, aching
pain at her heart, and kept saying to herself,
" Two years, two years, two years." 'filer face'
grew white and rigid. She saw with cruel
distinctness all the dreariness of that , scrap
and-nag existence which must be hers ; her
heart felt cold, and her eyes glittered.
"I must be going," whispered St. Vincent.
" I have your promise, Dolores, not 'to forget
me, and I will take this rtise to remember you
by, and this kiss from your sweet lips I" cried
the audacious young man, suddenly clasping
her in his arms, and kissing herpretty mouth,
" end 'everY night and every MOrnlitgl..will
kiss red, red rose,' and whisper the name
of Dolores ; for
As Ur thou urt, my bonnie lass,
So deep In love am I;
And I will love thee still, my dear,
Till all the seas gang dry.' "
And his curly 'with came close to hers again,
while he tried to look into Dolores's downcast
eyes. Was he laughing at her, or did he really
mean it ?
"'You won't understand me, Dolores," he
said, plaintively ; "And so I may as well go ;
only don't pretend when I comeback that you
have misunderstood me, ns young ladies are
apt to do."
She looked up, her eyes' brimming with in
dignant tears.
" Well," he said, "don't tic angry ; and re
in('Mber my farewell words,
'Till all the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi' the still ;
I will love thee still, my dear,
While the sands o' life shall run. •
And fare thee well, my only love,
And fare thee well a while;
And I will come again, my love,
Though %were ten thousand tulle!'
But it isn't as fur as that, you know."
There were footsteps on the gravel. •
" Dolly, Dolly !" called her aunt from the
terrace above, "'tie damp, and uncle is wait
ing supper come in, child, or you will take
cold !"
"Yes, aunt, yes; I'm coming !" Dolly
faintly called through the gloaming. tit. Vin
cent had tier in his arms. "Put me down !"
she cried, all Ilushed and trembling; "let me
go !"
But not in anger, dear Dolores ?'
Let nte gor
Say you are not angry."
Let Inc go 1"
Darling Dolores !"
Let me go !"
Only say you are not angry."
There was a monient's silence, during which
Dolores glanced timidly up at that handsome
face (ah, how handsome, and loving, and mis
chievous, and kind, and triumphant it was ;
then with a sob she said, "But I ought to be."
The next moment she had slipped through
his arms and fled from his embrace.
Dolly sat Once more in the little parlor at
Kensington. Iler body was there, but her
soul was wandering to and fro on the face of
the earth, and could find no resting-place. The
dull, stagnant, spiritless life was hateful to her.
She reproached herself, and tried to take an
interest in her surroundings ; but she sickened
and turned away front. them with a loathing
that frightened her by its very intenseness and
pertinacity. It was winter-time. The small
tires, nod the tallow-candles, and the cheese
that seemed always to be a shaving of rind ;
the long hours when Rebecca would not allow
lights, and when Dolores sat hopelessly in the
dusk, with her hands clasped round her knees
by the comfortless hearth, listening to her sis
ter's shrewish tones•below, as she scolded the
little household drudge ; while her father
snored in that horrible prickly old horsehair
firm-chair on the other stile of the little black
grate—gave the girl Ample time for reflection.
" I can not bear it, I can not hear it l" she
would cry passionately to herself, her great
brown eyes filled with angry tears of impa
tience and pain. She longed so for soon-thing
bright and beautiful to come to her life. She
wanted light, and air, and sympathy ; she'
pined for the green fields and the country
sounds ; she wanted companionship and young
talk, and occasional laughter. lifer mind went
wandering front Paris to Rome, front Berlin
....is, wanderings where
so confused and formless and indistinct, her
thoughts would finally hover over the old fa
militir hill-tops, and settle down in the gray
stone manor-house, where her aunt was still
knitting her quilts, and her uncle still yawning
over the county paper. They were vt•ry quiet,
simple folk, and yeti she had never felt dull
there. The Movement, the freedom, the
thousand small interests, the competence of
that life, had scented to tier like absolute hap
piness itself. She had never wattled anything
beyond what that homely daily routine afford
ed ; site hail rejoiced in the birds, and the
beasts and the flowers ; site had cajoled her.
uncle and patronized her aunt ; shy' had made
friends with all living creatures about the
place, and knew every child in the village by
name. She had trotted on her aunt's charit
able errands, and had known so well how to
win the hearts of the simple laboring folk, that
she had dwelt in a continual atmosphere of
Icve and attachment, which made itself felt In
a hundred ways, though no flattering expres;
s'ions conveyed it to her outward ear.
Dolores loved her ffither ; but as she looked
at him under his yellow silk handkerchief, she
told herself bitterly that he had no need of her.
He laid got used to this dull, monotonous,
ugly, threadbare life ; and if he could doze
away the afternoons, and have an occasional
• evening paper, his wants were gratified, and
he was content. With that ingratitude which
seems inherent in the young, Dolores longed,
at any cost, to get away into a new state of
existence, telling herself that It would cost her.
father nothing to lose her. "I would come
and see him on half-holidays," she said, "and
then I shall feel he was pleased to see me ;
whereas now he scarcely seems to notice I am
here, unless Rebecca is worrying me more
than usual."
MEM
So she sat, and rebelled with a godless re
bellion, and hungered and 'thirsted for a
change, with an angry sense of injustice and
cruelty that made her eyes glitter and her
heart swell. ' •
At night in her little room, with its painted
furniture and snowy curtains, she would look
In her glass and the hot tears would come, and
she would bury her head in the pillow and
stifle her sobs, lest Rebecca, who slept close
by, should hear.
When the nights were moonlight she would
put out her candle (that candle whicli'Rebecca
insisted must last her a fortnight), and wrap
ping herself in an old ehawl, would sit by the
open window, though the nights were cold,
and gaze up at the heavens, studded with In
ntimerable stars, flooded with that serene ar
gent light, and wonder, and gaze, and Won
der, until often sleep surprised her, and she
would wake with a sudden start feeling chili
and stiff, to creep to her little hard bed and so
finish her rest.
These were her happier hours. There was
something in *the calm, serene, passionless
stillness of the broad moonlight width at one
subdued and soothed the poor child's eager,
rebellious heart. She felt awed ; all was en
Pale, so pure, so grand ; the heaVens scented
to declare the glory and might and majesty of
God to her, and to show "her, better than n
hundred sermons could . have done, how vain,
how impious, how sinful were all such petty
human rebellions and repinings ; bow futile
such resistance against Ills kingdom and
power and glory.
She was no longer the careless, lightheart
ed, spoiled darling of whom that • feeble old
father had spoken so fondly only n month or
two back ; site was mostly moody and thought
ful now, as °fie whp broods on some absorbing
subject, select and self•contalned. She scarcely
answered Rebecca's taunts and jeers ;- she
never played off prankish tricks upon hey
now, as once had been her want ; they met
on equal grounds ;.and Rebecca began to wish
she had the impish, freakish child back again,
in place of . the silent, resolute, handsome girl
who set her face so firmly,- and was so little to
be moved by scoldingS or reproaches.
There . was little talk of the manor-house
after the first. Old Captain Skeffington Lail
listened to all Dolores could tell hint about his
brother and sister-in-law, with a certain feeble
interest (for his boyhood had been spent in
the old gray house) ; ' but after a day or two
even that faint interest in the place of his birth
had died out, and lie spoke of •it no more.
Rebecca disapproved of all such talk on prin
ciple ; she thought Dolores had been made far
too much of at Kingsmead, and she considered
It good for that young person to be discouraged
from dwelling on so frivolous a pOrtion of her
life. . '
And so Dolores Sat and thcitight, and re•
belled. And day by day, ns these thoughts,
which she kept to her Sell, grew stronger and
more pertinacious, her secret rebellion waxed
more and more fervent, and her heart more
Sore and angry.
After Lord St. Vincent had left Kingsmead
Dolly had still stayed on. Her uncle and
aunt had got so used to her bright young pres
ence In that childless home that they declared
they could not spare her ; and she was well
content to.rcuraiu. _
" Though you have lost your play-fellow
now, child," sidd' kind Aunt'Skeifington to
her one night, as Mr. Stapleton looked in on
his way home to tell them that he had heard
from his pupil, who had joined a very pleasant
party, and was enjoying his first foreign ex
periences immensely.
Mr. Stapleton heard the remark.
" Yes," he said, " St. Vincent is little more
thiu; a boy ; but he will have great responsi
bilities with his great wealth, and I can only
hope leis volatile character may steady down
during the next two or three years."
"Not much chance for a young man to
steady down scampering over the Continent
with plenty of money at his command," ob•
served Mr. Skeillngton.
"I don't know. Ills present tutor has just
the qualities in which St. 'Vincent is deficient,
and possesses the talent, or gift rather, of
attaching the young in an eminent degree."
Dolores sat listening to all this with eager
eyes. She longed to ask if those clueing with
whom Lord St. Vincent was traveling were
pretty ? ;mil how old they were ? and did they
sing ? Butshe , phudently held her tongue,
and pondered all the more on these things in
secret.
Stapleton was going away that night,
her uncle sent her to fetch his sticic and hat.
"You can go as far as the iron gate, Dolly,"
said her aunt ; "it saves Mr. Stapleton a good
quarter of a mile ; and mind you lock it and
bring the key back."
At the iron gate they , stood a moment ;
then, letting him pass out, Dolly locked it after
her companion, and reaching her hand across
the iron-work to hint, "good night, Mr. Sta
pleton," she said ; "you will come again soon,
won't.you ? Uncle and aunt like visitors in
the evening."
Ile said he would come, and he mini:—
await)
fold them when he had a letter ; and the kind
01(1 couple, who had regarded the young man
wit 1, that sort of simple admiration which they
would have accorded to some beautiful young
animal, never failed to inquire for him.
And so the days grew shorter and the nights
longer, and It began to be cold and damp and
wintry at Kingsmead.
The leaves were falling very fast one Sun
day afternoon as Dolores walked through the
village to bid good-by to some of liar poorer
friend:: there. 'there was a faint, damp smell
of decay, and the airAvas still and heavy ; and
now and then a ,yellow leaf came floating
silently down, and hild'itself to rest with its
brethren and companionicon the moist ground.
It seemed like a voluntary act ; no angry wind
tore it front the branches ; it hail bane its
solitude as long as it could, and had now
thiwn calmly down to rest with old and loved
companions gotta - before: This going away,
this saying goud•by,. the , farewell pangs, the
silent regrets, all swelled Dolores's heart ; and
then the solemn words of that afternoon's ser
mon, " So soon passel!, it away, and wo are
gone," Mr. Stapleton had spoken so earnest
ly, so solemnly, with such unutterable love,
with such tender pleadings, that as Dolly sat
in the green-baize pew she had shed floods of
tears. They had relieved het' at the time ; but
the burden of them seemed still to lie upon
her poor little heart, and as she walked along
with her eyes fixed upon the ground an agony
of regret seemed to rend her soul. '
• Some one stopped her. It was Mr. Staple
ton.
" I will go with you," he said, in answer to
her observation that she was making a round
of farewell visits ; " for I have a word, Dol
ores, to say to you."
He called her by her Christian name, and
hi tone, though gentle, was very serious.
SI7, vaguely wondering why it was so, said
to herself, " I can not feel more miserable
than I do ; so let him scold or preach as he
likes." She walked on silently, her eyes still
upon the dead leave, and her thoughts dwel
ling sadly on her numbered hours. She never
looked at Stapieton,• although she had- been
thinking of his sermon. Be and his sermons
were two totally different things, and though
she hated being " preached to," yet, it must
be confessed, she preferred the pastor's
preachings to himself. If she had looked at
him she might have seen that he was disturbed
and troubled ; that there was a wavering light
in his eye that went and came ; that he evi
dently wanted to speak, but was perplexed
(not being able to choose the right words),
and-knew not now to begin. But she was to
self-absorbed to feel the need of conversation,
and so she walked on, thinking her own
thoughts, and unheeding her companion's
silence.
" Dolores," ho said at last, and she looked
up. At a glance she saw that he was agitated,
deeply moved, and striving vainly iifter his
usual self-possessian. What could lie be going
to say to her? Was St. Vincent .dead ?or
was lie coming back ? or had lie fallen 111 ?
She looked up eagerly, Inquiringly. TIMU,
fearing lest he should have read too much in
her eyes, .the lids fell, nod a flush mounted to
her hroW. . , .
•
"Test" she said, timidly, in a low, gentle
voice, as one who hopes and fears.
"Dolores do not let me startle you. If I
could tell you what nave to say In fifty way
gentler theta anothet I would do it ; but I am
afraid—l greatly fear that, use whatlanguage
I may, I shall startle alarm, perhaps oven Of=
fend you- 7 "
"Well?" said Dolores, anxiously. It was
eVldently something dreadful that was coming.
"Well?" '
"Dolores, dear Dolores, anxionsly.
" Oh 1" she said, infinitely relieved.
"And I have striven against my love for
months, only to find It grow stronger and
ROBERT IREDELL, . JR.,
Pain anb iftmcg 210 Printer,
No. 47 EAST HAMILTON STREET,
ELEGANT PRINTINGI
NEW DESIGNS
LATEST STYLES
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NO. 28
stronger day by day, hour by hour. I know
all the folly, the presumption, the madness of
such a love. I know there is nothing in me
to win your love in return; but what will you?
I love you Dolores. I love yen so passion
ately, so entirely, so devotedly, that no reai
son can quell my love: I would wait ten
years, and yet another ten, for a word of hope
from you! lam old ; for your sake I will be
come young. lam poor; I will work, so
that you shall live like the tenderest lady in
the land ; for I mn what the world calls clev
er, Dolores, and work will be an Unfailing
delight to me done in your service. I do not
ask you if you love me. You can not. Ifow
should you l'—you, so young, so bright, so,
beautiful I Nor would I bind you, child, by
any wood, however slight. But what I ask
is this : Do you think in the coming years,
when you have seen the world, and have•lind
a chance of choosing your own path in life,
you could come to think of me with some af
fection, with mint confidence, some love ?
Could you in tell, in Fifteen, in twenty years,
ever come to love me, Dolores' "
" No I" said Dolores, shortly.
"I knew It. I knew *hat your answer
would be ; but I was obliged to ask it. Nov
I know, do not grieve or fret for me, child. I
have often pictured this moment to myself ;
and it has always been thus. Now I will say
good-by to you. Forgive mu for having trou
bled your young life ; but it was better so. I
knew before what your answer would be ;
but now lam convinced. Do not let the
thought of me trouble you, child. I would
not have it otherwise for all the universe. I
shall go back to my duties now, but I shall
loVe you still ; I shall never cease to love you.
I have always loved you, Dolores."
" You ?" said Dolores, slowly, wondering
ly, and beginning to awaken from the stunned
feeling of surprise and bewilderment—
" You ?"
"Yes," he said, "I."
There was a pause.
Then he added, quietly : "If ever the time
should come, my dear child, when you should
want a friend, I pray you to think of me. Do
not fear that I should presume upon them ;
that will never. I shall be glad all my life
that I have loved you ; it has made a , better,
humbler man of me."
"Oh," said Dolores, the big tears falling
down her cheeks, "how good you are I I am
so sorry ; but I'nevcr thought of this. I could
not guess ; and besidesbesides—your age,
you know."
I ant only thirty-three; 'my dear," he - said
smiling gravely.
"But I am not eighteen I",
" DO not excuse yourself ; if it was to have
been it would have been, though you were
thirty-three and I eighteen," he said, still
" Oh, how good you are I and how - nn.
grateful and cruel I seem ! But do not lie
angry with me, deur Mr. Stapleton, :or I any
very unhappy ; and I am going away to-mor
row !" she cried, with sudden remorse.
" I am not , r •
hands and kissed her on the brow ; Good•by
and God bless you, my child," he said ; and
then he turned-and walked away.
Dolores stood sobbing by tilt gate. She knew
in those few words he had spoken the farewell
to his hopes, if not to his love, and she felt
very sad.
The next day lie was at the station when
her aunt and uncle saw her oil to London.
He brought her a hook and a little bunch of
late autumn roses, and was as cheerful in his
manner as usual.
" Good by," lie said, taking off his hat ;
" remember, if you want ma I ant always
•
ready."
She smiled and nodded to him through her
tears; and the next minute the train moved
It was a few days lifter Christmas. Snow
had fallen and had melted, and slush and mud
reigned supreme In the streets of London.
Rebecca stood benne the dingy mirror, tying
on a faded and strangely weather-beaten
brown bonnet. She gave the hOws a twitch,
and looked around for her umbrella. Dolores
sit watching her. She was paler, and her
eyes had that wistful, watching look which
will come into eyes that try to penetrate be
hind the veil. Her dispirited, wan appear
ance struck even Rebecca, and she paused.
" Would you like to go with me I" she
said. "We can walk one way, and come
back in the omnibus."
The ready tears came Into Dolores's eyes
"I )yill be ready in a moment," she said,
and hastily left the room.
Even this little trip into the City would be
a change. She, would see the shops, and. the
holiday crowds, and the busy passing to and
fro of the eager toilers ; the movement, the
rushi_the noise, the hurry and confusion would
tell her of life—of Something different from th . e
stagnant monotony which was eating into her
very heart, as the worm eats into the core of
an apple. So they set off together ; Rebecca
full of business (she was going to receive some
small sum of money for her father), and Dol
ores looking eagerly taloa her, and for the
time freshening up into something like her
former brightness. The walk from Kensing
ton to the City is not n short one ; but Rebec
ca was tough and sinewy, and Dolores young
and vigorous, so they got over their ground
in a way which did them both credit. An
they came to Ludgato Hill Dolores stopped for
a minute.
" Is that St. Paul's ?" sho asked
" What else should it Lc! ?"
" Oh, then let ns go in, Rebecca 1 I should
50 like to see the monuments of those brave
officers about whom papa hns so often talked
to us."
Had Rebecca' been capable of art-criticism
AO would probably have told her enthuslaotic
sister that the humortalization of our country's
heroes would have been more "honored In
the breach thaidin the observance," as far as
those monumental caricatures are concerned ;
but she was innocent of any such critical acu
men, and only 'replied that " she had no time
to. waste." .
‘"fhen let me go in and look at them while
you are with Mr. Dryasdust," pleaded Dol
ores ; and to thiS Rebecca agreed, only stipu
lating that Dorothy was to wait for her in the
church, dud on no account to venture forth
into the church-yard until called for.
The great heathen-looking temple Was very
cold, and the hideous marble gods lunged
round its bare walls awoke no other feelings
than that of profound disappointment in Do
lores's breast.
There were a good ,many people walking
about the great bare, desolate building, and the
doors swung Lockwood and forward, letting in
the damp raw winter air.
" t3o this is our Valhalla," thought:Dolores.
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