o
THAT WOMAN'S SECRET.
CONTINUED.
AB FOH Edith, slie was disgusted,
even terrified by tlie major's im
pudent familiarity, which Inspired her
with a repugnance for htm which aha
never afterwards conquered.
As soon as possible after the occur
rence, Edward Bentley managed to ob
tain speech aside with lite major.
"That action must never be repeated,
air," he said, fiercely.
" My dear boy,"deprecatingly, "what
action V"
" Man, you know what I menu. Do
not trifle with me. I have acquiesced In
all your demands hitherto, but If you
ever again attempt such odious familiar
ity with my daughter, I shall, forgetting
all, bid you defiance, and eject you like a
dog from the house."
" Well, my dear boy, your wish Is my
law, of course," said the major.
" Promise me you will never repeat
that insult."
There was a light in the bunker's eyes
that warned Major I lelth that it would
be dangerous to trifle with him on this
subject, and so he said :
"Mr. lientley, If you wl-h it, of
course I promise."
No more was said on this subject.
Keith was surprised and disconcerted.
He saw that he might go too far, that
his power was not absolutely unlimited,
and by his future conduct he showed
that he had profiled by the lesson.
After a few minutes had elapsed, the
major again addressed Mr. Uentley,
saying :
" My dear boy, there is one subject of
which I must speak. You know a
young man, an author, or something of
the kind, I think, named Walter Kl
in 6 re ?"
" I do."
" I have discovered that he loves your
daughter. Have you any reason for
believing that she cares for him."
" No," replied the banker, " though I
have suspected that he entertained an
affection for her, and have encouraged
their acquaintance."
The major frowned.
" Bentley," lie said, "this must be
stopped at once. I f Elmore proposes for
your daughter's hand, you will at once
give him a peremptory refusal."
"Sir," exclaimed the banker, "will
nothing content you but this marriage
of your son and my daughter f Will
you not relinquish the plan V Kame
any Bum within my control, and it is
yours, if you will but leave me and mine
forever. Will you do as I ask ?"
"My dear Bentley," replied the
major, "I will not. Nothing on earth
shall make me relinquish this project.
Your daughter must marry Rodney, and
no other. And why not ? He will
make her a good husband, and you a
dutiful son-in-law, I have no doubt. Let
us hear no more of this Elmore. If it
should, unfortunately, appear that your
daughter imagines herself in love with
him, means must be found to disenchant
her, and If this young author is per
sistent, i will find a way to silence
him."
Late in the afternoon the major left
his new home,and proceeded down town
until hearrived at East Broadway, into
which thoroughfare he turned.
Walking slowly along, he scanned the
houses on cither side, muttering:
" No wonder, after all these years and
all I have endured, that memory falls to
serve me. I am sure the house was in this
immediate vicinity. Ah! here it is,
now."
And he rapidly ascended the steps of a
dingy, two story brick building, on the
door of which was a plate, bearing the
name " Van Dyke."
" Everything is as It was," soliloquized
the major. " I recollect it all, now.
The name on the door is the same, so I
suppose the woman still lives."
His ring was answered by a slatternly
looking girl, of whom he asked :
"Is Mrs. Van Dyke In V"
She replied by flinging open the par
lor door, and motioning him to enter,
which he did, seating himself upon the
sofa.
The girl immediately disappeared. A
few minutes later, an elderly woman en
tered the room. She was most unpre
possessing in appearance, tall and very
thin, with a face which plainly indi
cated a hard and cruel nature.
"You asked to see me, sir," she
said.
"Ah !" exclaimed the major, "still
the same winning, fascinating lady, still
the Mrs. Van Dyke of old. What rec
ollections of the past your face calls up,
dear madame."
" I do not recognize you, sir," In a
freezing tone.
"Not recognize me not recognize
your friend? Mrs. Van Dyke, think
again."
" Will you oblige nie with your name,
sirV"
" My dear madame, though I feel pos
itively hurt, though the tenderest emo
tions of my nature are wounded by your
forgetfulness, I consent to refresh your
memory. To do bo I will relate the cir
cumstances of our first meeting.
Eighteen years ngo last August, I
brought to you, In a most mysterious
and melo-dramatlo manner, an infant;
which for a pecuniary consideration, you
consented to adopt, and care for as your
own daughter. I"
The woman Interrupted him.
"You arc Mr. Sydney V" she ex
claimed. "Sydney was the name I gave you
when you asked me for one. It is a
very good name, and answered very
well under the circumstances; hut at
the some time allow me to state that
you are not as shrewd as I believed you
to be, if you thought it my own. It is an
excellent cognomen, but, with your
kind permission, dear'lady, I will, In
the future, be known to you as Major
Heltli."
" I had given up all idea of ever seeing
you again," said the woman.
" No doubt no doubt," said the ma
jor ; " hut here I am again, after all these
years."
" I recognize your voice," said Mrs.
Van Dyke; " but your face Is wonder
fully changed."
" I believe you," the major replied,
with satisfaction ; "and I am glad
of It, But to business. When I left
this girl with you I was convinced that
you was a woman who knew enough to
hold her tongue when there was money
to be made by so doing. I had heard of
you before, and I knew that you were a
very smart woman ; an unscrupulous
and daring woman ; in short, just the
person I was in search of, so I brought
the child to you, telling you her name
was Mora Sydney, and that she was my
daughter, from whom I was obliged to
part on account of family troubles,
which I was not at liberty to make
known. You believed as much, or as
little of this story as you pleased ; you
asked no questions, but took the girl. I
Instructed you to educate her to the be
lief that she was an orphan, and your
niece, and I agreed to pay you a reasona
ble sum per annum for your trouble."
"And you have kept your promise,
have you not V" sneered the woman.
" For several years I paid you regular
ly and promptly, as you know, but for
the past few years the state for my
finances has been such as to make it im
possible for me to remit the cash. It's
non-appearance must have greatly an
noyed you, my dear madame ; hut here
I am again, ready to make everything
all right. What did you think had be
come of me V"
I could not imagine; I thought per
haps you were dead."
You were mistaken in that conjec
ture,! assure you ; but did you not make
any inquiries regarding my where
abouts 5"'
" Now, of whom could I have in
quired ? I did not know where you
lived; I did not know your name for
I never believed it to be Sydney. In
fact, I knew almost nothing about you ;
and the nature of our transactions pre
vented my making any very public
inquiries."
" That is all right," chuckled the ma
jor ; " and now, most important ques
tion of all what became of the girl V"
" She was useful to me around the
house, and so I kept her. Two years
ago she learned the dress making busi
ness, and now she is working by the
day for Messrs. Marston & Miller, one of
the largest houses In the city, and first
class wages she gets, too."
" And the girl still believes that you
are her aunt, and that her parents are
dead?"
" Yes."
"Good!" exclaimed the major, "this
is as it should he. And now, my dear
Mrs. Van Dyke, although I have no
doubt you have made the girl pay her
board half a dozen times over, In work,
during her stay with you, still I want to
do the correct thing by you ; so please
mention what sum you will accept, and
consider yourself amply remunerated for
all your trouble."
The major smiled benignly on his
companion while she considered how
much she had better demand.
" One thousand dollars," she finally
said.
"A preposterous sum, my dear mad
ame!" exclaimed the major, still smil
ing, "really a ridiculously large sum;
but as there is quite a balance In my
favor at my banker's Mr. Bentley, of
Wall street, Edward Bentley, of course
you know him it is yours; and here is
two hundred dollars to bind the bar
gain. The rest I will bring to-morrow."
The woman took the roll of bills with
a grim smile, saying :
" I shall expect it. Would you like to
see the girl ?" she added.
" If convenient, my dear madame,"
Major Keith replied.
" She will be" here In a few minutes,"
said Mrs. Van Dyke. " It is time for
her to leave the work-room now."
" What kind of girl is she, Mrs. Van
Dyke 5"' inquired the major.
The major stopped very abruptly.
" Here Is Mara now," said the woman,
hastily, as the sound of ti closing door
reached her ear. "I will call her In
hero and you shall see her. Shall I In
troduce you V"
"No no," replied the major; "at
least not now."
Mrs. Van Dyke addressed a few words
to her and then dismissed her.
" Was 1 not right?" the woman asked,
turning to the major when the young
girl had left the room.
" She Is perfection simply perfection.
" Well," ho continued, rising, " I'm de
lighted, my dear lady, to have renewed
our most agreeable acquaintance, and
trust It may be long continued."
" I shall expect that money to-morrow,"
observed the woman.
" 11a ha! my dear madame," laugh
ed the major, greatly entertained, " how
chaminglyyou combine business with
pleasure. Yesyes, my dear Mrs. Van
Dyke, you shall have the money to.
morrow without fall. And now, tin
rcvoir .'"
And themnjor tripped down the steps,
kissing liis hand to the grim woman
who watched his progress down the
street.
" Dear me!" exclaimed Mrs. Bentley,
when alone with her daughter on the
afternoon of the major's arrival, " what
a perfect young gentleman Mr. Keith is
and so handsome, too. And the ma
jor, what a charming creature lie is, so
polite and so full of life and spirits. Iteal
ly, I don't know when I've seen any
one I liked better, ond my dear, I
don't believe you hear a word I am
saying!"
The loquacious mamma paused, and
Edith, aroused from her reverie, looked
up witli a smile, saying:
" I was thinking, mamma, and did
not notice what you were saying. For
give nie."
" Well well, my dear, 1 think I can
guess the subject of your thoughts ; it
Mas that handsome young Mr. Keith."
"You are mistaken, mamma," inter
rupted Edith, quietly. " Mr. Keith was
very far from my thoughts. And now,"
she added, anxious to change the sub
ject, " I think I will go to the park for a
promenade."
" Order the carriage, Edith," said Mrs.
Bentley, " and I will go with you."
" I would rather walk, mamma," re
joined the young lady ; " but if you wish
to go I will order the carriage for you."
" What pleasure can there be in walk
ing over those dusty roads I can't see !"
exclaimed Mrs. Bentley, "especially
when you can have the carriage Just as
well as not. But do as you please,
and If I conclude to go I'll order the
carriage myself."
The young lady left the room and pro
ceeded to her own apartment where she
arrayed herself for a promenade. Per
haps one of Miss Edith's reasons for
desiring to walk was that she thought it
very probable that she might meet the
handsome young author, Walter El
more. It wus four o'clock when Edith left her
father's house and hastened down the
avenue. Though the month was No
vember the weather was very mild, and
the street was crowded with prom
enaders. Edith had scarcely entered
the park when she met Walter Elmore.
Both young hearts bounded as eye met
eye and hand clasped hand. It was the
old old story, confessed by each beat of
the heart, each glance of the eye, each
pressure of the hand.
" How lovely she looks," thought the
young man, " dare I hope that she will
ever be mine ?"
He had reflected much on this subject
since his conversation with Henry Oak
ley and his interview with Mrs. Clayton,
and had determined to ask her he loved
so dearly to be his wife. Yet if that
word should be no, how dark would life
seem to him ! In spite of all his elTorts
to be agreeable the young author was
unusually silent and tactiturn that after
noon. Edith noticed it.
" What Is the matter with you, Mr.
Elmore?" she asked, "something
weighs upon your mind lean see. Won't
you unburthen yourself to me ? Sit
down here, and let me act as your con
fessor," and she sank Into a rustic
bench. He seated himself by her side.
"Why not tell her all now ?
"Miss Bentley Edith," he said, "I
will cqtrust my secret to your care ; it
Is told in three words I love you."
Her reply was only an utterance of
his name ; but the glance that accom
panied it told him he might hope.
" Edith," he continued, " I have long
loved you, tenderly and truly. Dare I
hope that my affection is returned ?"
" Walter," she said, " think me not
bold or unmaldenly If I say at once that
I do love you most truly ; that I can
only be happy with you."
" And you will be my wife unworthy
as I am of you ; though I am nameless
though there Is not on earth one being
with whom I can claim kinship ?"
" Walter," said the young girl, "I
have heard your history ; but can you
for a moment suppose that I could reject
you on that account? If I could I
should be most unworthy of you. No
no ; I love you ; and whatever your
parents may be I shall be proud to be
your wife."
" Your father, dear Edith will he
consent to our marriage ?"
The young girl's face clouded as she
thought of what had been said regarding
a match between her and Bodney Keith.
In a few words she told Walter of the
arrival of the major and his son, and of
what her father had said.
"Still," she concluded, "I do not
think my father would wish me to mar
ry where I cannot love; and as you
have always been a favorite of his, Wal
ter, I do not think you need anticipate
any trouble. But whatever happens, re
member I will be true to you always."
T?ie couple remained in the park a
short time longer ; but we will not listen
to the remainder of their conversation,
which can be very easily imagined by
any one who has been similarly situated.
That evening, as Mr. Bentley was
seated In his library engaged in conver
sation with Major Keith, a servant en
tered and handed him a card.
" AValter Elmore," read the major,
looking over his shoulder. "Perhaps
lie comes to propose for your daughter's
hand," he whispered ; " tell your
flunkey to show him up."
"James, conduct the gentleman to
tills room," ordered the bunker.
" Yes, sir," and James departed.
"Introduce me to this young man
when he enters," said the major; "and
then, in the language of the ancients,
I'll cut stick, and leave him to transact
his business, whatever it may lie, with
you. And if he is here to ask your
daughter's hand, you know how to
act."
The banker would have replied, but
at that moment, Walter Elmore entered
the room ; Mr. Bentley introduced the
two men.
" I'm pleased to meet you, sir," said
Keith, in his most obsequious manner ;
"delighted, I assure you. But doubt
less you have business to transact with
our mutual friend, Bentley, so I'll take
my departure; trusting that our ac
quaintance may be long continued, and
as agreeable to you as I am certain it
will be to myself."
And the affable major bowed himself
from the apartment and closed the door.
After assuring himself that he was not
watched lie applied his ear to the key
hole, and prepared to listen to all that
might be said by the two gentlemen.
" I am here, Mr. Bentley, to ask your
consent to the marriage of your daugh
ter and myself."
The banker had expected this, and
yet, now that the words were uttered, he
could find no language in which to
reply. He would have been happy to
have seen his daughter united to the
young author, for whom he entertained
a sincere regard. His heart pleaded for
Elmore, yet his lips were sealed. Torn
with conflicting emotions, he turned
deadly pale and his head sank upon his
breast.
"Sir, Mr. Bentley !" the young man
exclaimed, "you are ill ; let me ring for
assistance."
" It is nothing," said the banker, ris
ing his head with an effort; " I am bet
ter now. Mr. Elmore, you have asked
what I cannot grant. My daughter can
never be your wife."
"Sir," the young man stammered,
scarcely knowing what he said, " you
cannot mean this!"
"I do mean it; it is my final answer."
" I shall trust to time to change your
resolution, sir."
"Nothing will change it," said Ed
ward Bentley, " I shall never consent to
this marriage."
" At least inform mo on what grounds
you thus so decidedly refuse me, sir ?"
" Mr. Elmore," replied the Banker,
" I have already, I believe,! n formed you
that I do not propose entering Into an
argument with you. Therefore, allow
me to wish you a very good-evening."
" Good-evening, sir," said Walter,
leaving the room.
Enter the major.
" Well done, Bentley !" he exclaimed,
" excellently done, 'pon honor ! And so
it appears we are at last rid of this
aspiring youth, and the field is clear for
my son."
" I cannot forbid them meeting, al
though," said the banker. " Edith loves
him ; she will not give him up."
"If she is an obedient daughter she
will," laughed tho major. "Oh, don't
worry about that, my dear Bentley ; I
don't think we need anticipate any
trouble from Elmore."
As Walter was leaving the house he
was met by Edith. In a few words he
told her of his interview with her
father. She was surprised and deeply
grieved ; but placing her hand in his,
she said :
" Dear Walter, notwithstanding this I
will be true to you. I will wait patient
ly for my father's consent, and I hope
it may be obtained ; but in two years I
shall be of age, and then I am yours
though all the world Mould turn against
me."
VEGETINE
WILL CURE RHEUMATISM.
Mr. ALBERT CROOKfilt, the well known
druggist, and apothecary, nt HprliiHvnie, Me., al
ways advises every one troubled with Ithouma.
thin to try VEUKf INK.
It BAD HIS STATEMENT.
Bprlngvale, Me., Oct. 12, 1870.
Mr. H. R. Stevens: DearRlr Fifteen years
ago last fall I was taken nick with Rheumatism,
was nimble tn move until the next April. I'rom
that time until three years a no this fall 1 milTered
everything with rheumatism. Sometimes there
would be weeks at a time that I could not step
one stepi theseattacks were quite often. I suf
fered everything thaf a man could. Over three
yars ago laHt spring I commenced taking Vege.
tine and followed if until 1 had taken seven hot.
yottiest nave had no rheumatism since that time
1?.y?.rtJ,,eeTpryn8tl'0,,,''l with rheuma
tism to try Vegetlne, and not suiter for years as I
i'f m," 7T ",at""'it l gratuitous as far
as Mr. Steveus Is concerned. Vours. &c.
tri... . a , ALBERT CKOOKEH.
ecailcs ' UrugK'stS alul Al'0"1-
VEGETINE
HAS ENTIRELY CURED ME I
... ., , Roston.Oct. 1S70.
.n l;n,V" fitns:-T)e.ir Sir -My daughter.
l T, re,v,ere aU,,,'k 01 Whooping Cough
was left In a feeble state of health. Being advlsl
u,yA f'V ,1 19 t,led. V'9 Vegetlne and after
using a few bottles was fully restored to health.
I have been a great sulteier from Rheumatism.
I have taken several bottles of the Vegetlne for
this complaint, anil am Imppv to say it has ent ire.
ly cured me I have recommended the Vegetlne
to others with the same good results. It Is a great
cleanser and puriller of the blood; it Is pleasant
to take ami I can cheerfully recommend ft.
JAMK8 MORSE, 301 Athens St.
Rheumatism Is a Disease of the Blood.
The blood In this disease, Is found to contain an
excess of Jlhrin. Vegetlne act, by converting
the b ond Irom its diseased condition to a healthy
peculation. Vegetlne regulates the bowels which
Is very Important In this complaint. One bottle
of Vegetlne will give relief, but to effect a per
manent cure It must betaken regularly, and may
take several bottles, especially In cases ot long
standing. Vegetlne Is sold by all druggists. Try
It, and your verdict will be the same as that of
thousands before you, who sav, "I never found
so much relief as from the use of Vegetine"
which is composed exclusively of Barks, ltoots
and Herbs.
"Vegetlne," says a Boston physician, "has no
eipial as a blood purliier. Hearing of Its many
wonderful cures, after all other remedies had
failed, I yf sited the laboratory and convinced
myself of Its genuine merit. It Is prepared from
barks roots and herbs, each of which is highly
eitectlve. and they are compounded in such a
manner as to produce astonishing results."
VEGETINE.
NOTHING EQUAL TO IT.
South Salem, Mass., Nov. 14, 187(1.
Mr. II. R. Stevens: Dear Slr-I have been
troubled with Scrofula, Canker and Liver Com
plaint for three years: nothing ever did me any
good until 1 commenced using the Vegetine. I
consider there Is nothing equal to It for such
complaints. Can heartily recommend It toeverv
body. Yours truly.
Mrs. lizzie m. Packard,
Iv o. 1C Lagrange street. South Salem, Mass.
V 1Z (i 1(2 rr I IV 1(2
Prepare
H. R. STEVENS, Boston, Mass,
Vceetiue Is Soli hj all Druggists.
December 4, 1877 lm
JOSSER & ALLEN
CENTRAL STORE
NEWPORT, PENN'A.
Now offer the public
A It ARE AND ELEGANT ASSORTMENT OF
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Consisting st all shades suitable for the season.
BLACK ALPACCAS
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A SPECIALITY.
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AN ENDLESS SELECTION OF PRINTS!
We sell and do keep a good quality of
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And everything under the head of
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To be convinced that our goods are
CHEAP AS THE CHEAPEST,
13 TO CALL AND EXAMINE STOCK.
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Don't forget the
CENTRAL STORE,
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