ADVERTIEMNO.BiTEI 34. 1 mo. 3 mos. mos. 1 yr. One &Mare . ie• 1.00. ,1.75. • 3.121 &00 10.00 rwo'Squares . . 3.00 3.50 0.50 10.00 ULM Three. Squares . . COO 0.00 &00 2511:0 Six Squares ; &O) 1& MOO 40.00 t t gi ii• • 11 tl°3 00.00 inoni! Z 2 00 80.00 Ono Column 20.00 00.00 8103 130.(4) Professional Cards *l.OO per line per year. Administrator's and Auditor's Notices, 43.00. City Notices, 23 cents per lino lit insertion, 13 cents per line each subsequent insertion'. Ton lines agate constitute a square. . . ROBERT IREDELL, JB., PUBLISHER, ! ALtEirowrr, PA. ) GLA.M.O U 1. IN THREE PARTS.- . —PART I, CONTINUED. AND then she dimly wondered what St. Paul ronl4 thipk: of all if those heroei with more than Roman noses ; of those females with so much brass upon their heads and so little clothing on their bodies ; of the togas and the peplums; of those dreadful groups of Cu pids and laural crowns, and, inverted torches and souptureens—and she came to the conclu sion that ho would think himself in a heathen temple, not in a Christian church dedicated to himself ; in a temple where all sense of art and beauty seemed wanting, and where carica tures of the old Greek gods and heroes had been placed to insult Christianity. y' Yet as 'she looked site smiled. . . . The next moment a hand was grasping her own, and she found herself face to face with Hobert Slap Mort. A flush of pleasure mounted to her brow, and she greeted him with such a'natural warmth and cordiality as sent a thrill through his heart: After the loneliness, the dreary monotony of the last two mouths, it was some thing Wee° that ..genial, honest, plain face again ; something to look into such friendly, trustful eyes, and to see so much pleasure shining kindly through them at her own. Her first emotion was surprise ; her first dis tinct thought, "I shall hear something of St. Vincent.' Bid when the flush of surprise had died away from her face, and Robert Stapleton leoked,at Dolores steadily, he was shocked to sue'tho change hiller appearance,• and asked her, anxiously, ifsho had been ill since she left Kingsmead. "No," she said, "oh no ;" and then paused, as though there was some thing behind which she wished to say, and yet could not, rightly 'express. But now Re. liecca came up, doubly grim because she . had been kept waiting a long time at Mr. Dryrui. dust's office, and had received less money than she thought she was entitled to. The sight of AOlore's conversing,. on apparently intimate terms, with a young man—Rebecca called all men under seventy young—added the last drop to her already-brimming cup of bitter ness, She came angrily forward, and began scolding Dolores In such shrewish, vinegary tones as tilled Robert Stapleton s gentle pasto ral breast with awe. Nor was he rendered hap pier by seeing the silent coldness which spread over Dolore's beautiful mobile countenance, hardening and stiffening it into haughty in difference. Poor Dolores she reMemberd tow Robert Stapleton had talked of the " presumption" of his love ; of how lie could not dare to hope that oho might ever like him • ah 1 he little knew how distasteful her shally home was to her, how painful all the petty economies and the pinehings of poverty. And now she was being rated like a naughty child. — Wheri Ithecca had done, she said, coldly, "It is Mr. StaffiCton, rector of Kingsmead, Rebecca ; lie is staying in town Mr a week, and has been telling me. all the news of aunt and ifficie Skeffington." Briniewhat molllfled, Rebecca thrust out a Wieldy hand in a worsted glove, and mum bled sonic sort of ungracious apology between her ungracious lips. "I will walk with you," said the rector of Kingsmead. " We are not going to walk ; the are going in an omnibus.', "Then let me ask your address; I shall do myself the pleasure of calling on Captain Skef flngton while lam In town. The squire will lie glad to hear news of his brother, and also of—of—his niece," said the rector, pulling up rather suddenly, and looking at Dolore's mar ble, expressionless Noe with sadness and awe In is honest eyes. Rebecca gave the address ungraciously enough, Dolores put her hand into his gently to wish him good-by, but all the pleasure had died•out of her face, and she spoke no, word of encouragement to him to come and visit them in their modest quarters. Nor did she reply in any wise to Rebecca's queries and reproofs on' the homeward way. She said angrily to herself, "That Is Just how they are ; If they think I like or care for any th,ng they thwart me directly. Well, I did not say I hoped he would come—l would not ; but he will ; and then," said the foolish child to herself, "Then I shall hear something about St. Vincent. But what will Mr. Stapleton think of that horrid paper in the parlor, and the dreadful slippery prickly horse hair chairs, and the shabby curtains ?" • The shabby curtains and the prickly chairs made no impression whatever on the rector of Kingsmead. No god on Parnassus could have been happier than he as he sat in that ugly little parlor; and listened patiently to the poor old broken down half pay ofticees maunder- Ingo. Rebecca, who grated upon him horri bly, was seldom there ; Dolores always was, and though her great eyes looked sad, wistful, and she said nothing, yet was it not something, every thing, to see her, to feel her near, to hoary at any rate that when he came and when he went that firm, slender, elastic palm would rest for d moment in his own ? One day he told them that on the morrow he was leaving town, and going back to Kings mend. Captain Skellington was unusually drowsy that afternoon, and in the dusk Do lores found'comge to pour out her griefs to Mr. Stapleton."l want to get away !" she cried, with a . passionate sob. " Oh, help me to get away ! lamof no good to any one here ; Rebecca slave-drives me ; my father sleeps all day ; I have no books to read, and no creature to speak to, and I ant wretched, wretched I" cried the angry girl, with eager flashing eyes.. "But, my child," said the rector, as calmly as though ho had not been in the least startled, "what do you want r , at I want change, I want want something to think of, He looked at her sadly. " Do not anticipate snarl' collies to us all (Mite soon when It conies we are too ap sends it." " Do not preach to me," cried Dolores, ploringly. I was always thought clever at school ; I learned more than the other girls, and carried off most of the prizes. I will be a governess ; I will teach, and earn my liveli hood, and come home to spend my half-holi days, and go to Kingsmead every summer." Poor foolish child I Was this a promise, or was it a coquettish wile @ ' "My child, you must learn first to govern yourself before you can govern others. " Ah, you too are cruel !" she said, vexed and hurt. " And what do your father and sister say ? " I have not spoken to them yet,.but I know what they.mill say. They will contradict and oppose me." " Then you ought to obey. .. that 'little things on little wings'—' " I hate little things I" cried Dolores ; " I wish everything in my life were grand, and bright, and beautiful ; but as that cannot be, I will work." " To obey, my child, is better than to sacri fice." "I cannot bear this life ; I calinot. I have not the heroism of small things, Mr. Stapleton, and I am dying hereby inches." As he looked at her dilated eyesand . trent- Winlips he longed to take her to his heart; and 111 and soothe her there. But he only. replk : k i "-Whatever you do, Dolores; think of It on your knees first ; and do not act in opposition to your father." " I thought you would recommend me as a governess," she said Imploringly. " I must give some reference, you know, and a clergy man's name always has such weight." " I entirely disapprove of your plan, and I should be acting against my, convictions if I did not in every way strenuously oppose it." " Oh, very well I" cried Dolores, hurt and offended. He too was deserting her; ho too was full of prejudices and objections. She was chilled and dashed. The supreme moment had come at last, and had resulted in nothing but disap pointment. There was a moment's pause. Ho was pitying the young, restless, throbbing heart, which was fluttering so painful against the bars.of its cage. lie was fearing lest in speaking so strongly he had done an unwise thing, and parlutps forever repelled the confi dence of that eager, impetuous nature. He felt ii care for this ardent passionate child which was motherly rather 'than fatherly in its anxious previsions and tender, apprehen sive solicitude. . . He put his hand on hers. VOL. XXIII " Do not be vexed with me, my dear child ; I am afraid I spoke too hardily ; but I was surPrised, and—" Hero Dolores withdrew her hand. "Shall I tell your aunt you would like to come to Kingetnead in the spring ?" "To return hero again ? No, thank you." And so the matter ended. Doloro's sensi tive nature had been thrown back upon itself by Mr. Stapleton's unguarded opposition, and she would speak of the subject no more. That evening after bidding Robert Staple ton good-by, she went up to her room deter mined on n plan of action, from which she told herself, nothing must suffer her to wa ver. St. Vincent was not coming home for another year, and that year must be passed somehow. The question was, hew to get through it as quickly as possible. The following day Dolores said she was go ing to write to her aunt ; but when she went to the post she dropped two letters into the box instead of one. Bossy Dalrymple was agood-natured, open hearted, affectionate girl; and when she re ceived Doloro's letter she went at once with it to her step-mother. They had been spending the Christmas holidays in the country, and now they were going back to town. "To prison," Bossy called it ; for she was a gay fresh young thing, and liked running wild with her country cousins over hedges and ditches far better than taking prim walks, or, still worse, long afternoon drives with her step-mother through the dull London squares. Mrs. Dalrymple, a pale motherly woman, with delicate children sUringing up like so many little colorless blossoms around her, was very kind to bouncing Bossy, who seem ed to have run away with all the health and strength of the family ; and before Bossy had left her step-mother's room that morning it was agreed that Miss Dalrymple should write to her friend, proposing the terms on which Mrs. Dalrymple would be happy to engage her as daily governess to her two little girls, Blanche and Helen. . . "I hope she is a nice person, my love," said Mrs. Dalrymple, just a little plaintlyely, when the letter was signed and sealed. "She is not a 'person' at all, mamma," re-' plied Bessy ; " But she is quite a lady, if you mean that though her father is poor." When Dolores went to 1000 Lowndes Square, and Mrs. Dalrymple saw the gover ness she had chosen for her children, she was just a little staggered. The girl's clothes were plain, even shabby ; but there was such an air of distinction about her, despite her simple garments that Mrs. 'Dalrymple felt rather awed than otherwise. " You did not tell me Miss Skellington was so beautiful, love," she said to her stepdaugh ter. " However, it doesn't matter so much, ns nurse will always walk out with the chil dren." Rebecca was biting and sarcastic when Do lores told her she was going to be daily gov crocus to the sisters of an old school friend. " Don't talk to me about wanting occupa tion," she said, bitterly* ; "we are not good enough for you, and that's the truth of the matter ; though it's nothing'inore than might have been expected, sending you to such a school. You've never been contented since you went to ltingsmead" (Dolores winced); "your head was turned there. And who is to mend the clothes and make papa's shirts I should like to know, if you arc going off all day long in this way?' "In the evenings I will mend and make whatever woe like, Rebecca," said Dolores, meekly. She could afford to be gentle now, for she had one foot beyond the boundary, and to-morrow she would stand on a new territory altogether. "I dare say ; and you to go trapesing through the street at all hours of the day and night. It's not respectable. But I don't know what young women are thinking of nowadays, nor what the world's coming to. In my time it used to be different." Verdant Skettington, reuntrand wm-tess $5lO nothing. In Rebecca's presence lie agreed with her; in Rebecca's absence he caressed Dolores, calling her often Annunziata, and murmuring feeble words of affection and ad miration over his wayward child. So Dolores girded up her limbs, and took her staff in her hand, and went forth to the battle of life with a confident and courageous heart. It may seem a trifling circumstance perhaps, and yet it is a fact worth mentioning, that al though Dolores had told Lord St. 'Vincent she knew his cousin Miss Dalrymple, and that she had been at school with her, to Bessy Dal rympleithe said no word whatever on the sub ject of having made the acquaintance of her noble kinsman when at Kingsmead. "Hugh" was a sort of householdgod. in Lowndes Square. His mother and 13essy's had been sisters, and the _two orphaned, or rather motherleaS, children had been brought up like brother. andifister together. Lady St. Vincent had 'lied first, and then her husband ; after whiclifflughwent to Ilve with his aunt and uncle. But thed -Mrs. Dalrymple had .. also died,iind 'so ontli the Colonel married again, the twO c hildren had been kft almost entirely to each -tither,•-and- a close affection had sprung up between them. Bessy was by no means a clever girl, but she bad an "affec tionate, unselfish nature, and net up liugh in her heart like a young god, and worshipped him like a hero. Ile liked her all the better for not being too clever, and described her to his school-friends as "a jolly sort of a girl, with no stuff about her, you know ;" which being Interpreted meant that Bessy felt her! self supremely happy in being allowed to trot about after him; to hold his bait when he fished ; to fetch his slippers for hint \Olen his feet were wet or tired; to collect string, per cussion-caps, and other valuables for hilts when desired by the young lord to "put his den tidy"—a behest which, regarding it as she did as the highest mark of confidence, brought something very like bliss to Bessy's honest heart. As he got older, and she went to school, she talked of him as girls talk of great, strong, handsome, kindly elder brothers. There never had been such a creature as Hugh, and there never could be ; so handsome, and clever, and good-natured, and amusing, you know, and so generous and kind-hearted. But lie was very rich, was he not ? Yes, he would be very rich some day ; but that was the least part of it ; and besides, he did not like that side of the story at all, because he sad his pastors. and masters were always both ering him about his responsibilities, and all that kind of thing, you know, which was scarcely fair, because now they kept hint so strict that he could not enjoy himself; and when he came of age he was to begin directly to be unhappy and hard-worked, and never have a moment's peace or rest, because every one was always preaching to hint about—well ' about that text, you know, relating to the eye of a needle. And so on. Then St. Vincent had to be photographed Ina hundred different costumes and attitudes ; and as lie was very liberal in this respect, the albums of all Bessy's bosom friends were thickly Scattered with representations of this young nobleman, respecting whom prudent mothers looked wise ; and of whom friends of the same age and sex as himself spoke ha "a great catch." If Bessy ever dreamed of St. Vincent's mar rying—and we may be sure she did dream of this blissful consummation of things, after a duo period of triumphant success—she always pictured his bride as some marvelously radiant creature with purple eyes and golden hair, and every charm that woman possessed or poet ever sung. She might be a princess; she would certainly be of elevated rank. Hugh , would never stoop to conquer—oh, never ; and Bessy was far too prosaic to take King Cophetua's little infatuation as a prece dent. Oh no ; for Hugh some splendid bride must li e found, to whom they all should do domage. Meanwhile Hugh was abroad, and Dolores 'was in Lowndes square. "Well, dear," said Besgy, who was sitting on the hearth.rug in front of the school-room fire, "as I was saying, ho turned round—but you dont know Hugh, so it's of no use my telling you the story, because you could not In the least imagine how he looked; stay, I will fetch my photograpknibum,*and then I can finish my story before the children come In ;" and on she ran, while Dolores, with a 'flush that was partly shame at deceiving her friend, and partly a tenderer emotion, rose hastily,' and walked once or twice up and down the room. How she reveled in these • never•ending, endless, thonsand•and-one nights-like stories of May's about the incom parable Hugh 1 She could have listened for- neat ; suffer. said ; "it though rget who Remember • ALLENTOWN, PA., WEDNESDAY MORNING, 7 ' JULY 244869 ever ; and now an anxious nervous impatience was upon her lest nurse should bring the chil dren In from their afternoon walk before she had heard the end of the story. "Well t" she said, almost harshly, certainly very abruptly, as Bossy came staggering in laden with pho tograph albums—"well "No, don't look at tint one," cried Bossy. "I've got hint in all toy books ; but you must look at those afterward. I want you to see hlm in the very dress, black velvet knicker bockers, you know, and purple stockings, Cold shoes with great silver buckles—ah, here it is I" Dolores' head swain, and her heart gave one great throb, while a film spread over her eyes as she bent down to look at Miss Dalrymple's photographs. It was like meeting St. Vincent again •, it was as though he must speak to her. And then a sudden revulsion came over her ; she sat down suddenly and shut up the book. "Isn't it charmino. Dolores ?" said Bossy. "But - if you only , k new ' hint !it doesn't half do him justice." Dolores.tried hard to say she did know hint ; but whether maiden modesty, the fear of W traying her secret, or the dread of her friend's surprise at her long silence on the subject, lamed her tongue and kept her silent, it would be hard to say. She was so silent that even Bossy, absorbed as site was with her Admira ble Crichton, paused for a moment to look at her. "What is it Dolores ?" she asked. "You were so flushed just nine, and now you are so pale—what is it Y" "Nothing; a slight Mildness ; it will Itass away," replied Dolores, falteringly. Site wanted to lay her head upon the good girl's bosom and cry, and tell her all her troubles. If only Bessy had been a little suspicious I But how could she be ? "Shall I leave the books dear Y It may amuse you to look at them when you feel better ; I must go now." Amuse her to look at them l ' When Bessy was gone Dolores took the books, and, locking the door of the little room appropriated to her use, knelt down and•opened those wonderful treasures. She could not have looked at them 111 Bessy's presence ; a thousand feelings would hare prevented this ; now she opened the books and looked lingeringly and lovingly over them. She longed to steal one of the photographs, but dared not. * The summer had constraint gone, and the early spring found Dolores still governess to Mrs. Dalrymple's children. She had quite re gained her old cheerfulness, and was as bright and happy as when we saw her plunging her face into the dewy violets at Kingsmend Ma nor. She heard, it is true, less and less of St. Vincent for Bossy Dalrymple (whose second season it now was) was so immersed in gaye ties that she found few opportunities of run• 'ling to the school-room for a chat with her old friend and school-fellow. Dolores liked her life. She liked her early morning walk to Lowndes Square while a s yet the thshionuble world was still asleep ; she liked her pupils ; she liked her walk home, when'she caught passing glimpses of the gay world, and wondered at the lovely faces she saw looking out of clouds of muslin and lace, fresh, rosy, and relined, us though sin and sorrow were not and never had been. She dreamed her young dreams and saw her bright visions, and no ripple of envy or doubt or mis trust ever troubled she calm surface of her 'soul. She was so much a child, and yet so much a woman, that she played with the lovely toys of her imagination, and regarded not the outer world. The last summer holidays she had spent at Kingsmead. Aunt and uncle Skellington petted and spoiled her as of yore ; llobvt Stapleton cause daily to see her bringing iss , r fresh flowers (though the old garden at the Manor was all ablaze with blossoms) and books and music. , "Dolores," he said, the night before she left, "though I have spoken no word of my love, I am still the same ; my feelings arc un bassi-qua." . - nu riling, too," she answered, the bright- ness of her smile for a nunnent dimmed. That was all. As her aunt came to kiss her that night in bed, "We shall miss you, birdie," said the sweet old lady, bending over her, as she lay in the white lavender-seented sheets, a very rose of Sharon ; "we shall miss you sorely at first, my dear." To which Dolores mate answer by hugging her aunt in an ecstatic manner, hair crying as chic thought her pleasant holiday was over, and yet half happy at the idea or gettipg back to town, and of soon hearing news or St. Vin cent again. "I have sometimes thought of late," began Mrs. Skellington once more, glancing at Do lores almost timidly as she lay back in bed, her hair somewhat disheveled and her titre slightly flushed from the strict embrace where in she had so lately held that comely limn ; "I have sometimes thought, my love, that you would come and settle among us altogether." "I am coming next suninter, aunt," said Dolores, glancing away from the question. "For good, birdie ?" "Perhaps for bad, auntie ; who knows ? or perhaps only for indifferent ; and that is dreadful you know—neither hot nor cold, as St. John says." "Well, you've time enough, my dear ; you're barely twenty yet, and surely that's young enough to marry." • "Pm over young to marry yet," sang Do lores from among her pillows, with bright girlish glee. "Well,good-night, and god bless you, my girl ; you know this home is always happy to have you." • Dolores nestled up to her aunt again, and the soft tears were on both their checks as they kissed once more and parted: In after-days Dolores was often to think of those simple kindly words, and of her own jesting reply. But the time had not come yet. Thus we speak darkly, knowing not what we say ; but the future reveals to us all the import, all the meaning of those words so lightly spoken, and in them we seem to read a prophetic fore shadowing.of truths ungnessed at while we:ut tered them. P kll r H "Dolores," said Bessy, "St. Vincent Isis ar rived. It was early spring once more. Tile buds were thick upon the trees, and only needed a day of sunshine and southwind to bring them out in all .their fresh young beauty. There was a fire in the school-room, but Dolores drew a long shivering breath as she turned. quclekly round and made a sudden dash at the coals wits the poker. Her back was turned to Bessy, who, in her exlmberant joy, caught Dolores round the waist, and kissed er pale cheek as it came up to the level of her loWer horizon again. "Won't it be delightful to go out with him everywhere; and see all the prettiest girls mak ing love to him?" cried Bossy, rapturously, "and all the mammas paying court to 111111" (you see, even Bossy was not so simple as she had been] ; "and he the handsomest and richest and bent-born and best-bred man ofthe season ; for he must be all of that, you know, after traveling abroad so long l" "Does traveling abroad make people so rich and so handsome ?" said Dolores. "Then I will buy a portmanteau to-nmrreW." "Ah, but you know what I mean. Ile was rich and handsome before ; but now he will be so polished, so courtier-like, so delight ful—" "That all the young ladies will make love to him ?" said Dolores, Just a little coldly.— ? "Well, I pity the young ladies." "Yes, for ho can not marry them all. In deed, I don't meaulim to marry at all for a year or two" (Dolores' lip curled ever so slightly. "You don't mean him I" she said to herself) ; "and, then he must fall desperate ly in love with the beauty of the season—all heiress of course ; and—stop I" cried Bessy, "how stupid of mo ! why, Lettice Kuyvett is the girl.. She is rich and young and beautiful —the very thing I mid she is to be presented at the next Drawing-room. Oh, won't it he delightful, Dolores Y" "Delightful I" answered Dolores, dreamily. • And so Bessy talked away, never thinking she could wound her friend by thus shaking these purple rags and gilded baubles before the young governess's great calm brown oyes ; never dreaming there was aught to sear or ir ritate in all this Jubilant prosperity and world liness. Nor, indeed, was there to Dolores. She lived in a world above this sort of thing. A world of her own, full of noble men and graceful women; where the talk was cour teous and gentle, not frivolous and worldly ; where roses bloomed and lilies grew; and acorn but always loving and tenderpink, its be of greed and gold flourished ; where pettiness comes noble wifehood. 'Alas, poor I Difitireil 4 1 the midst of all -thesosphantasies grim and meanness could not spring up even as weeds ; where men and women loved each messenger came and tapped her on.tltp shoal other, and where all that was great and good dCr, and bid her aivak front, that gasdem,of tw and noble had 'an abiding-place. lights. Her 'father lay' (lying., bay iffy, day This girl who was born with the instincts and night by rfight.'she Pat by- "Hei-hrtfit of a princess (when there were princesses), and uncle came-up fromeKingsmend, buts he had a touch of poetry about her, a gift of imig- did not know them, ~.I.lphappy in.tlusLondou ic, which at one stroke of her wand changed nits TeelingSthe confinement of the small house this ' prosaic workadas , world into an enchant- nnil the want of life end light Omit theth, they ad universe. What wonder that she loved so did not remain long.. . 0 You will write to Os well tit dream ? What wonder that site ' birdie," said the old lady, as; she bid Dolores shrank instinctively front letting the rude good-by ; "you will let us know if any thing breath ()I' the outer world blow upon her en- I can be done - foi - filiii." -- Dobires said }}'es, she chanted palace ? Some dint mysterious rap- I would ; but when . the doctor proposed change tore of awe, of love, of imagination made It of air, and Dolores spoke of writing tit her holy to her. She put off her shoes when she , uncle and aunt forthe necessary funds, Re entered the sacred region, and closed her eyes I beceta chocked her fiercely, saying • that they in a state of bewilderment , which was Seale- I luul done without their aid hitherto, and that thing like religious ecstasy. I they would do without it until the ends- they It was impossible for her now to tell Bossy ; would have let us starve" she cried, Ifittssly, that site knew St. Vincent ; that site had " while they have been living in abtiminnce.:' known him. It pleased her io think of him I " But, Rebecca, they did not know." • walking like some youhg Sir Halahad seath- I " Then they ought to have known." (is less through the temptations and flatteries and "But you would never let me tell them." allurements of the world to discover his true I " Don't argue with me, child ; I know love at last. To him (she told herself) "a 1 best." simple maiden in her flower" was "worth a I "But, Rebecca ' if papa -wants change ?" hundred coats of arms.'"Plicre was no cote I " Ile mustwant it, then, as lie has often edit in this. He, loved her ; he would always I done before. Want must be his mister." love her. The essence of love was its eterni- I Dolores's heart ached, but she argued the ty. To him all accidents of birth or station I matter no further. It seemed true that her would be simply tail. To her they never as- I aunt and uncle had been unkind and thought. sinned the lbrin of tangible facts ; they were less, and yet'it was not really so. • Captain as nothing ; they could not weigh in the hal- I Skeflington, though a sensitive Weak man, ance, since their very existence was so union- would have taken pecuniary assistance front portant as almost to escape notice. any one without the slightest.sense of !Wolin, Of herself in all this she thought little, of ation or self' abasement in so doing ;' but - he her love much; so much that she put herself had Rebecca by him, and Rebecca lie had al in the back-ground, and was content to wait. ways feared, and obeyed after a - fashion so It was almost joy to her to put otr that meet- entirely reversed to the usual order of thin& lug when they should be revealed to each that there was no appeal against it, and thus other, never to be parted again. late in the day even Dolores knew it was use- And so she worked on in her cheerful little less to resist. schmthrooin, her heart full of songs and sun- Mr. and Mrs. Skeflington, living their shine, her eyes bright with a liquid brightness peaceful, prosperous country life, full of plan-' that told of the happy life within. teommess and repose, could not picture to . Sometimes Bessy and Lattice (\lrs. Dal- themselves the narrowed, darkened,' thread-: rymplc's niece) would come to afternoon tea bare existence of their brother and his two in the schoolroom, and Dolores would look at daughters ; now that they hod come ,to town the two girls, and listen and wonder. Their they had begun to realize some of'the sad marvelous flow ()I' small-talk about. their balls truths, and were perplexed nnd dismayed, and and their boquets, their partners and their did not know how to set about alteriug the toilettes, their engagements and their bonnets, state of things. In their simple, countrified, amused her beyond . expression. Bessy was out-or-the-world way, they lint always the louder of the two, and sometimes would. thought of their brother as a 1%111140-do- man, raise a slight flush of offended dignity on Let. comfortably off, though-living quietly. tice's this pure cheek by a whispered allusion " You know he had £10,001) when or a too broad compliment repeated with more my tatlwr died," said the squire, rubbing frankness than tact. Lettice was one of those his chin thoughtfully and' anxiously as he perfectly beautiful, helpless, useless women talked the matter of his brother's 31111111 W( who keep up the traditions of woman's soy- over with his fair, ctintely wife, seated Once creignlys She was always perfectly dressed, more by their own fireside; ." and then he 3111(1 calm 3131(1 soil'-possessed ; not in the least had his pay, and our girl's education was paid elated by her nuavelous beauty, though per- for out of her mother's fortune, you know ; fectly conscious of it. She hind never done a so I don't see lion' he's gotinto these strolls." wild, or unladydike, or unconventional thing Poor thing ! But that Rebecca giVes me in the coarse of her carefully hedged-in life ; the -horrors, John. Was -her -mother like she had Over been rude, or cross, or impa- that ?" tient to anybody ; she could not be expansive " She was a great raw-boned woman whom or clinging, but she was gentle and consider- Tom picked to) in some boarding-house ; or ate, pure and soft, and (in a certain narrower, rather, she picked him tip. • lie wits always smaller sense) womanly. She would never weak feHOW, love ant) one with devotion or passion ; she " tried to make ,Rebucca take something would never endure anything for anybody ; front me but she wouldn't. She stood grimly but she would always be dutiful and aloof, and said they asked no one's aid, and Laved. She was rich and an o rphan. She that it' they were poor they were honest." was beautiful, absolutely beautiful, and young, "I like her spirit," said the squire. Some pouffe said she was like moonlight, so "Anti I don't. It is tto good spirit that calm and pure and lovely ; but it was well sacrifices a hither to gratify a feeling which is known that her fortune was no moonshine ; only sellishnesss and pride." and she had ajorers by the score, where other "Do not judge her harshly, love; why girls, perhaps equally pretty but not equally didn't you give it to Dolores? If She is proud Heil, had them only by units. All men liked -'—and I suspect the minx has some of the old her, she was SO beautiful and gentle and not. leaven in her by her going 0111 as a govern withstanding her loveliness, no woman spoke ass, which I only looked upon as a whim he ill oilier. Some people said she was insipid ; fore—if she is proud, she is loving as well, others declared she lint! no expression ; but, and she would have taken it." alter all, do not our favorite pictures alai stn- "But she wouldn't," said the old lady, fairly ace MOM 1134 the same faces and attitudes d a y crying now ; "she confessed they wanted it, by day, and do we therefore get tired of them but she was afraid of Rebecca," • 'I here eras no poetry about Lattice beyond "D—tion !" said the squire, testily. that superficial..noctiv . wh.....uursecoon s ius "Nnonre you blessing, myJ friend r ' asked torni and feature aiways givi ; ther e wer e 110 - 111 e rector tS - eabli vOiessfS - andllis - Srpfire Staked subtle changes in her lovely face ; no deeper down abashed. emotions; no thOught or inquiry in those But it was a relief' to them to confide their calm beautiful eyes ; no light or shadow ; no perplexities to him, secure of the sympathy of varying caprices and flickering waywardness his large loving nature, and sure that good about her. She was alloom( a creatur e “t oo sense, kindliness, and jut ideal would guide good for human nature's daily food ;" but it his counsel was a goodness of that negative sort which, if' Anil so it was settled he should go up to it makes no enemies, excites no enthusiasm. Stern iu some sort of an amba ,, sailor fur thorn, To Dolores Bessy said : "Every one wants to smooth away difficulties, and prevail upon St. Vincent 'to marry her ; but he says she is Rebecca, if she would not take her father to cold, and that he never could be on iluniliar , the sou-side, to bring him down to King:mu-ad, terms with so chilly a divinity." where the calm, pure country air and the coin " And she—does she love him ?" asked Do- plete change would be sun-u' to do lalll gl od. loses, blushing at the sound of her words. Mr. Stapleton was to be sure and speak to "Oh no ; but if' offered to her I think Rebecca first, because she was very tenacious she would accept him. lie is an excellent as to her rightg of seniority ; and he was to be p«sfi, you know." very careful not to offend her in any way ; "No, 1(11(10 know," replied Dolores ; then and he was on no account to get Dolores into addsd, hasiily, "but I know nothing, you trouble by appealing to her. Thus kedged see, of your—your world," about with cautions, and bristling with coon. "St. Vincent paid her a great deal of atten- sets like a friesidly porcupine, the rector of lion when 'we were tit Parklands" (that had Kingsmead departed on his mission of lose. been when Lord St. Vincent came of age, the His heart swelled as lie thought of his dor accounts of which Dolores had eagerly read ling in dist ress, grief of mind—who knOWS ? in the newspiipers) ; "but still he does not Perhaps in want of mans. Yes, it behooved seem to care Sir her. Site was by far the most him to be very delicate, very gentle and ten beautiful person there, and every one was der, very considerate and forbearing and long saying what a splendid couple they would sull'ering s if needs be. Ile must not defeat the make. St. Vincent knows, of course, that lie end and (din of Ins journey by any impatience ; would not be refitseil it' he offered to her." for her sweet sake he must be as it sCrpent and "Dees he ?" cried Dolores, angrily, all the harmless as it dove. And so s pondering on 01 woman rising r e b e ulims in her at this. 'Mien these things, at look of love, pity, and spoils if I were in Miss Knyvett's place I would let thy in his kind gray eyes, anti an expression Liar see that he was mistaken I What right that wits not all pain about his firm mouth,- Ims he, or any man, to say that of her or any' Robert Stapleton made the journey to [sm other woman ? Alt ! if I were in her place, 'I don, and did not find it long. would refuse him point-blank, as a punishment But Rebecca was obdurate. - Obdurate with Gtr his conceit and vanity." a grim stoniness, with a persistent, unwaver "But ,I.ettice will never do that ; she doesn't lug, unwomanly hardness that WllB a new ex flare up like you do, Dolores ; she will accept Pefience to Robert Stapleton. No grace of hint I'm sure, - if he only offers to hers pans manner softened her refusals, no .gratitude and mamma and all wish it, though I think it's tempered the asperity of her tone. At first a pity to bind him down so soon ; bin then she she persistently recurred to the neglect which is so beautiful and so rich that it makes a difs she considered justified her rejection of nll ll:settee, you see." brotlwrly Offices on the squire's part ; at last But Dolores saw nothing ; she. was gone. • she contented herself with simply .answering "No," to all Robert Stapleton's entreaties, representations, and argumeuts. (,It went to ids heart to see Dolores' lilac ; so white, so cold, so angry. She never spoke, but she would look up at Rebecca t'ruur time to time with a fierce rebellion in her eyes that told more than many words what was passing within. She dared not trust herself to-speak. Robert Stapleton saw this, and his heart 'bled for all the misery, love, anger, and lututilbt thot pent up in hers. "Why," Said he, "stuffy, to her one even ing, as Rebecca left ' the room; ''why don't you, Dolores, speak, and appeal to her heart ?" "lb art 1" she cried passionately, "she has no heart; when her-tither asks her for bread, she will give hint a stone. It is all she has to give. This is not love for him—it is revenge. pride, selfishness ; but" she cried, springing up, "I will not see it, I will not bear it any' longer." You will take your uncle's gift, Dolores, and use it for your father as he wished V" "No," she said, suddenly ,withdrawing her hand from his, "I can not, dare not do that; but I will tell you what I will do—"' then again she hesitated, turued red, and seemed at a loss to find words. But with it sudden ges ture of confidence that was infinitely touching and graceful, she turned to hint again, and I stretching out her hand, said, "You shall lend me the money." • Ile understood all that this implied, and he took her, outstretched hand in silence, MA 1010 should say, "I ratify that unspoken bond, and I promise not to tresspass upon your good ness." "It, is 111 this way," said Dolores. "Mrs. Dalrymple owes me a half-year's salary. I wrote to her it few days ago, saying I feared that my absence Joust be very inconvenient, but that the state of my father's health was such I Wald not leave him nod therefore 1 thought it better she should look out for an other governess for Blanche and Helen." "And—?" "I received an answer to say 'the l children lint gone to the country, and that It suited her better I should take my holiday now 'than later 011, so that I need not worry myself on that score. But she did not inclose lalySlaary." "How inconsiderate I" "About the wages? no, I think not. Pen plc of that class know nothing about money, or rather about the need, the bitter need, one may have of it. If you will trust me until our return Rebecca shall know nothing of thiS, and my father can have change of air without our borrowing of aunt and uncle Skeffington." "Trust you, Dolores I" -Was ho not ready to lay all pat he haul at her feet, and sho talked ofssi k — rusitugsher with n few paltry pounds Perhaps none of us who have ever hoped or feared very intensely are quite ignorant of that sensation at the heart which seems very like suspended existence. We see the realization of our hopes—our fears—coining nearer and nearer, and we pause and shut our eyes, feel ing that now the crisis approaches we arc cowards at heart. And if this be true of fear, it is almost truer of happiness. In the one case we have that sort of courage horn of long endurance to strengthen and supporrus, to give us the heroism to endure the final pang, so long anticipated, that, when it comes, our overwrought nerves drop down dead, rather with fatigue than with pain. But with joy— would we not rather defer the realization of our daydreams? Do we not instinctively feel that with realization they will lose half their beauty ? We have looked forward to this su preme moment so lhmg ; what is behind it can not he more beautiful ; and now that the mo ment approaches we would fain hold it front us, gaze upon it with enraptured eyes, and picture over again, and yet once again, to ourselves the bliss of that coining day. We tremble when our Imppiness'conies very near to us. We arc awed at the imminent realiza tion of our aspirations. We would fain pause and hang back yet a while, until we have gathered our energies and our forces of soul together to support this alp of joy. „Thus it had been with Dolores. Once, looking over the balusters in Lowndes Square, she saw Saint Vincent in the hall; lie was wait ing for Bessy and Lettice, and he glanced im patiently upward, sweeping Dolores with his gaze as it were, yet without seeing her. She turned and tled to her room, and burst' into a passion of tears. Once again she saw him ill the Park, riding by his aunt's carriage, and she could not but observe his tender gallant manner as he bent toward Lettice. How beautiful he rooked I Like Bono: young god she told herself; and very happy were her thoughts as she walked homeward. Some (lay she and St. Vincent would meet again. IF Should bring them together; she would not fling herself In his way ; and then lie should woo her'as a young ' prince woos his bride, and she would be some what reserved, as it ecomes gentle ladyhood to be, so that lie should put forth all his en ergies to win her; and then, when be had been constant and dovoted to tier during the time of a long probation, she would raise hint front his knees, and would lay her head upon his heart, and tell him frankly she was his; would tell him how she had watched him un seen, and had tried and proved his love, and' how she would always be gentle and faithful to him, never destroying their wedded love fly caprice or perversity : not sour or harsh, lIMM . "l es, { '' she ansWercd, Just a trifle coldly ; "trust md'its yell Weald have to trust any oth er.peraim 'who came begging andhorro wing." , Ile saw that alto would , have no difference . i madebetp:cen anysasuaLpetition dr, and lie felt that he must have patience with iriMettmiK spilhitiiie nature. :He took her , on , licrown terms,. and loved her .soluntili, that lie evon.aceepiedan I 0 U from her. . ' Anil so they went to Dover ; and Dolores sat by•ltel , father nit the beach, and took long solitary Walks, and once.ugain her spirit grew calm and hright. • . To another fortnight Mr. Stapletqn Would come thiWn to Dover to fetch his young broth er home thr the holidays, and then he would take Captain Sketlington to Kingsmead with hint, while Rebecca and Dolores wont home to Kensington,. "CAHTLEWOOD. "My DrAnr.sr Dolmans :—I ought to have writ ten to you long ago ; but I'm always a bad corms poudent, and hero. it has beam Impossible to do any thing but dawdle.: We have been enjoying these line moonlight nights, and profiting by them to make distant excursions, so that we have quite 'done'. the neighborhood. The Castlewoods are very kind people ;• they are connections of mam ma's, and cousins of Lettices.• We are only three tulles front Parklands. Naturally we have seen is great deal of Hugh; but why should I talk so much and never come to the point ? Of course you have guessed..ltiongageq...weall.saw It coming, but we none of us thought it would be so soon. ling!? is, p‘o,trallant, pith pos i vo,tyuqlt .chlya,lry In his Mall:ter fowarif ladies, that he seems to be In love, witif brew ~wolnuu he, cranes near, and yet soinbatril is thOngh'he ilia'not care for any of them. ertitilflifftys thht-Ifuglrivoidd haie toasted 8 0;' jjl pvcd,ln toasting days; and not any 'brig t p WO, star,' Those .must have been II& fhltstn't they,' dear, wheu:the gentlemen'tnittOkbolfbund lying under •the table with the plonk' b baOlW tic ~the .porning And fancy having nub's awled out, by a number of dreadful' tlpSribiraft'irlist 'Quite' shocking I But people say thatilind devotion, and gallantly, and Dud sort has suffered from the change; You think so ; but then as nobody pays triebty attention when there arc prettier girls to'kbilpolo (and there always are, Dolomi), I eatetbe ,tilipposed to offer all opinion worth meotiontned-pfit, as I told you Hugh and 'Attlee arc engaged.::;The garde nays and all the people about the place' are as pleased to see them walking Üboid together as if they were a prince and princess; Indeed; they are far handsomer creatures than any royalties I have ever seen. But perhaps that isn't a loyal sentiment ; and how Mesh I am never to have asked after your poor dear papa! If, Ile quite well again I And that horrid strict Rebecca 1 Have you any admirers at Dover, my dear I Of course you look scornful at this, but yon know them all by sight, T dare say.' Now don't•be angry; and mind you write me a dear, delightful hater about our fiancee. Ever your affectionate "P. S.—They are not to he married yet, as Let tire Is no young. Won't shelook lovely as a bride She rays she shall have white satin and Brast , el's point." .‘,`l'lll all the Bead. gang dry, my dear, • And the rocks melt wl' the sun." Wily did these words come singing and surging through her brain? There she sat hopelessly, helplessly. stupidly on the beach, just where she had been when Rebecca had given her the letter hours ago ; and her poor old father, was by her side ; but she had no thought for him; though the -blazing August sun struck fiercely upon his head, and shone full'upon his pale, care-worn face. Yes, the "rocks might melt" and the "seas ganga dry," but as long as the "sands of life" ran, Dolores' face would never look the same again ; never wear quite the saute expression us it had worn that bright sunimer's morning befov, the post canto in. She did nut faint, or sob, or scream. She, sat there stupefied, initiated, deadened. She could not think; she had no tears ; no longing to rush away and passionately weep her heart out •, no 80055 of impatience, of'anger, of Injury, of rebellion. That was all to come. For the present she sat there,.,and looked out nt the glittering Ben' with hot, dry, burning eyes, and cared for nothing. There' bad been a shock,, and shc had been - r,., - came to lead her away, she would continue so to sit, fixedly gazing oat nt that dazzling, glittering sea, and only hearing tho wearisome refrain of an old song, the very wordS of which scarcely conveyed any meaning to her brain ; they scented to have reference to something of which she had known formerly, long ago, "once upon a time"— " And I will come gigalu, my love, Though 'twere leo thotehm,l mile." -When Itelteeca came and shrilly reprimand. ed lwr for keeping her father out so many hours, she was frightened at the white, silent face Dolores turned upon her. "Are you ill, Dorothy ?" she asked, in a kinder tone than nsnal. "No," answered Dolores, surprised and startled at the sound of her DAVI" voice. So also was Rebecca, it sounded so harsh and broken ; she looked searchingly nt her sister, and then cleared her throat. "I hive they given you warning?" . "Warning? No, I had no warning," an- swered Dolores, just, a little wildly. Then seeing that het sister was observing her, she said, ''Why do you ask these questions, Re becca ?" " Becaush 1 know you -heard from Miss Dal rymple this morning, and I thought they might net want you any more." "No ; oh no,' said Dolores, and walked on. She did not have a fever, though she was very ill for two days ; dangerously ill, the doctor said. When Hobert Stapleton came down to Dover a fortnight later, he was terri fied at Dolores's appearance. Ile asked her tenderly what ailed her? Nothing. Then he asked Rebecca, and Rebecca gave him the snow answer, "Nothing." lint the eyes of love are not to be deceived. A settled weari ness had grown about Dolores's mouth, a settled garvity on her brow ; she smiled occa sionally, but it was a mechanical, spiritless, wintry smile; pale and wan, like February 'sunshine. She was Composed and quiet, but impenetrable and cold. Robert dared not say any thing to her ; for the first time since he had known and loved her, he felt chilled and discouraged ; there was an invisible barrier between them, and his sensitive heart felt it. And so she• saw him take her old father away, and found no friendly word of thanks wherewith to repay him for all his patient care of the irritable invalid. Robert hoped, (Wen up to the last moment before the train started, that she would giVe hini one friendly look, one kindly smile ; but he hoped in vain. She scarcely noticed him ; and when the train moved away, it was on her father that her eyes last rested. . • And bad Dolores then, so fondly, truly, deeply loved the play-fellow of her first holi day-hours ? She thought so, she thinks so still ; but in truth it washer ideal that oho had so loved and worshiped, and she could not bear that ideal to be so torn front her. Is not the unseen always better than the seen ? Does not our very religion tell 114 dila? Does not reality almost always fall short of imagination?. And is it not hard to have our ideal torts from US, trampled tinder foot, befouled, besmirched, so that It is hopelessly disfigured forever after ward ? do not believe that Dolores over loved ilugh St. Vincent ; but in him she loved all that heroism and genius, and chivalry and beauty, and grace of • minmer and charm of address have ever claimed of love. To her lie was the embodiment of all she had ever read, thought, imagined. In her wild, romantic, unworldly way, she had never doubted hut that lie would woo her ; haul never doubted that his troth was plighted to her as firmly as she thliught hers plighted to him. She had pictured to herself how he would plead his cause ; how she would prove him after the mannerin which ladles of old proved their knights, and how then she would reward his faith and constancy by the full avowal of her own love and devotion. Poor, silly, romantic, foolish child I If she had known the world better she would hever have seen these visions, worse than vanity, or dreamed such senseless, delusive dreams. And then, too, it was a bitter pals to her proud heart to feel that she had given it un asked, In vain. She, who had scorned the Idea of being lightly wooed and won, was never to be mooed at all by the man who had all unwittingly won her heart from her I She was profoundly humiliated. She was, indeed, so self-abashed that when the old customary lodging clinic, as It would'come, and tormented her with glimpses of her lost ideal, she would cast down her eyes before that calmer, bright. et, purer self which had risen up to Judge the old idle day-dream, and Would feel sadly and sorrowfully that the bloom and flush and the dewy innocence of life were gone forever. Ulu these moments of humiliation there ROBERT 'BEDELL, ,TR., Vain anb .ffaitcg 2fob Vrinter, No. 47 EAST HAMILTON STREET, ELEGANT PRINTING' NEW DESIGNS LATENT STYLED. Stamped Checks, Cards, Circulars, Paper Books,Conatl (WlLMA Dy-Lswok School Catalogues, Bill Headal .lEnvolopes, Letter Heads Bills of Lading. Way Bills, Tags and Shipping Card,, Poster. of any also, otc., etc., Printed at Short Not Jodi NO. 30 was any drop of consOlation in her bitter cup, it was in the thought, " No one knows of this." No, not oven ho who had forgotten her very existenqo ; fornow Dolores reraelnliered that, thought he had pressed het tot Soriferaladrance of her love, she had given none, inless ho could so interpret an evasive answer and silent farewell. Had any one told Dolores that h© had kissed and made love to half n hundred • pretty girls since he had seen her, that he had a score of rose-buds and as nm.) , locks of hair In his desk, she would have laughed the insinuation to scorn, and frankly have told her informant that she disbelieved him. But his betrothal, his engagement to Leftice—could that •be ig nored ? No, she knew that it was a fact, and she realized and accepted it as such. And so she went back to Lowndes Square, and taught 'Helen and Blanche, who were un der the care ore maiden annt, while Bessy and Mrs. Dalrymple finished a round of visits that bad to be accomplished before Christmas, Captain Skeflington came house at the end of October. Robert Stapleton brought him. Dolores was cold, and the cloud which had settled upon her face was still there, nor did it lift while he was in town. Tie asked after her health, her pupils, her occupations, her amuseMents. She answered him with as much animation as though she. had been read ing a cookery-book, and then he went away. He saw that she avoided Ills gaze, and ho was foolish enough to imagine site was thinking of the money she owed him. Site had forgotten all about it ; but the sight • ,him humiliated her. It reminded her of: th she had given unsought, and she tremblek w hen she asked herself, "What would Mr. Stapleton think of mo if he know all ?" mq Gnu. FOSTER'S PRICE LIST. Costs' & Clark's Cotton, 7c., others chargff toe. Ladles' White Hose, Wye., others charge it. Better quality, lie., others charge Mc. liner ynallty, 21, 30, IS and b'c. you too gars on Ilosfery front 5 to 21r. n pair by boy - Ing of no. Hplendld Yurdfvelde Muslin, 12fte., others charge Ito. Fine an Watnnutlit, 154., others charge ale. Best Watastilla Muslin, 'L'c., others charge Mc. Heaviest Drown Sheeting, 15c., others charge tPc. rote ego rtar.frona I to O rents per yard by Mutiny Maid big of tr.. Best Merritnack Print+, 12f,c., others charge Best Paper Mosnuff, ISlse., ethers charge We. Double-width Alpacas, .tic., others charge 50e. Finer finality A Illiteatl, 37},c., others charge ale. Very Hue Alaran. °there charge 83c. still Finer Alpacas, soperb goods, al, 75. Wie., uud it Ohl. rnii.ean Rare from 15 to 50 tests per U. ra by bilythg Alpaca a qtrs. • IleAt. Spring DeLallieft, Inc., others charge Mc. Plaid Dress floods, Mc., others charge Mc. • Unbleached Table Diaper, tine., ethers charge Sic. Extra Wide and to ,there charge *I CAL Bleached Snow Drop planer, Gr., others clull. Sk. Damask Table Draper, 75c., others chugs *I DI. Very line Damask, 3l al, others charge 51 50. lon can Rare/rola Win 50 etntsbybrrytny Table of its. Heavy Blue De3IIOIM, Me., others charge 3 0 c • Better quality, 31c., others charge •lik. Hood Straw Ticking, Ilia., others charge ale. 'Better quality, 25c., otherri charge 15c, • Very Heavy anir(lood, loc., others charge yin. Flue all wool Stimuli', others charge Pmt eau sure from sto t3lcilter por yard by bulaub , hese goods if on. Heat Kentucky Jtan. 40 and 15c., others charge 411. All Wool Classimerem, Me., others chant° $1 4). Splendid qualilles, at SI Al, others charge 60. Black Doeskin Casalenere. ()then( charge $3 Al. Plaid Shirting .Flanut:l4, 2.1 c., others charge 45r. Finerln Naphius;slll 60 per o th e rs thr charge sa qualitle. V. (X) per du., charge 11C1 ill). You eon rare from 1.54075 cents per yard by buying &cc goods of Gluck Silks, *1 &I, others charge IleavY Mack Nllks, ..15, oaten. charge ta CO. Very henry Corded ir2 54), others chunro V 1 50. Handsome tillk roOlux,*l (to, others chariot *1 71 Plain Colored bilk Poplins, id others chargo 21. Colored Press Silks, irl 2.1, others charge VI CO. 11stietio sore feed. eentsiu 411 CO by buyitty Silks J us. (rood Stair Carpels, 25e., otbere charge eh t,,";; ?.. I ?e, r tfbtr'n'tiritu 1111. Very heavy lugralu, 61 00, ethers charge $1 7'nexe are A Imelda Carpels and are atefa/ cheap. We apecittlly request our euntomern to tritig thin with tutu that they may see We nett exactly an we adv.:Wine. FOB ru R S NEW (1 K CITY ST () E , OPPONit 1' fierDlllll liefOrllll . ll Cilli rals 66 SUDDEN CHANGE.** WILL LO w PRIORS INFLUENCE YO U? OLD TIMES AGAIN IMMENSE REDUCTION IN PRICES I THE- OLD CORNER • J ust opened au euornious STOCK OF SPRING GOODS, HVILN, VARIETY, AND LOWNE,VS OF PRICE xhall itud cannot Lo xurraggeil ar Competition tkiled .with any ot/w Establixhment outside of the larger Mkt ~01, SPACE WILL NOT PERMIT OP NAMINLI that au ha ulms,' stock of gOOtbl : but let it 'mince to say that tvo kayo the most COMPLETI. assortment of ladles' Dress ()Dotiv, Dream Silks, Popllus, Shawls, Rotator:do, hobo Fundsit • lug (loads, Ladies' Cloaking Cloth, 3leu'u Wear in Cloth, Citiodtheres,_&c., and everything that is kept lu FIRST CLASS URI . GOODS STORE la endless variety. Ido not "QUOTE PRICES" as some houses do, but will guaraulou ASTON I SI 1. 1 N [GUMS ThodifferOllVO to pact. of good.. to-Joy awl a mouth ago. Is really paltered (or thooo who hove Lees taught with IMMO Stitek no hood ut Mule prices, but as 11101 sot teto en. with to e , I ultull heretofore make the OLD COR NER THE GREAT PLACE OF INTEREST AND HEADQUARTERS • fur the ❑wxxrx tok grt thrir goodg ni Ihr LO W EST 1\ IA RN ET PRICES • I fully roallro Nutt 110 permauent POIC(COS call be uchloired ualeex the prombex held out by adrerilmunenta aro found to WI full • anutulued on a clult to the More. Nor Can It lob a largo Norco., without .acropuloauly rolluhlo•nud (air dealing ut alt thous and uniform courtesy to every custo mer, and thu endeavor to make every buyer a constant dealer. All I lo.k to to della. by 'lama trial whether 1w not It to to your udynutage to becoton Pier. Itroportfully Your. OPPOSITE THE, EAGLE HOTEL .6131.1114 arpcts nub . Oil Cloth Vi K 8. SHIMER • & CO., NOS. 5 AND 7 WEST HAMILTON ST, ALLETPOWN PA. REPLEN LSIIED lu all 1P...M.4 yarlette..'stylexeud PRICES REDUCED.! We keep for Kale all the follow lug popular maker BODi.IIRUSSELS. 3 FRANK ENOLISIL S PRANK lIIOELOR, 5 FRANK HARTFORD. ENGLISH TAPESTRY, CROSSLEY'S TAPESTRY. STODDART TAPESTRY II ITR TAPESTRY, HARTFORD & I:OWELL:Vitra'4IY. IMPERIAL, extra 3 ply, MEDIUM SUPERFINE, 3 ply, FRITH TAPESTRY INORAIN, PHILA. SUPERFINE de., • PHILADELPHIA FINE INGRAIN, : PHILADELPHIA COMMON INGRAIN, • PIIILADELPIIIA WOOL INGRAIN, 'du. WINDOW SHADES! CURTAINS OW EVERY DESCRIPTION, STYLE AND PR WEI . UPSTAIRS, ALLENTOWN, RA TO DE CONTINUED =I =I M.:l. KRAMER, OLD CORNER," =I
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