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VOL, XtV.
NEW BLOOMFIELD, iPA.., TUESDAY, AUGUST 3, 1HBO.
NO. 31.
0 "Hf .
THE TIMES.
In Independent Family Newspaper,
IS PBBLIBHSD SVBBY TUBBDAT BT
F. MORTIMER & CO.
TEUMH t
INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE.
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tatlon.
A Woman's Adventure.
IT was Christmas Eve, and bitterly
cold. The down train from London,
due at Bristol at 5:50, had Just come In
crowded with passengers, and the arri
val platform was a Bcene of indescribable
confusion. Excited passengers rushed
hither and thither seeking their own
special property amid the piles of lug
gage that lay scattered around ; and
wearied and worried ladles sought vain
ly among the crowd for a disengaged
porter to convey their bags and boxes
safely to a cab. Active youths and
stalwart men who could carry their own
impediments were best off; and among
those who did so was a tall, bronzed,
brown-bearded man, who wore his coat
collar buttoned up closely round his
throat, and his deer-stalker pressed
down over his eyes. His travel-worn
portmanteau was large and heavy, but
he seemed to think nothing of Its
weight, and, swinging it in his hand,
strode out of the station.
t " ab, sir ?" cried an urchin, eager for
a penny.
"No; an omnibus will do for me,"
returned the gentleman, passing on to
where the Bedland omnibus was drawn
up, and cold though it was, he at once
mounted to the box, and took his seat
beside the driver.
All this time a lady was waiting
patiently at the farther end of the plat
form. Seeing the bustle and confusion
that reigned around she had managed,
by dint of a little exertion, to drag her
modest tin trunk out of the meleee ; but
having done so Bhe could do no more,
and now stood beside it waiting until
one of the porters should be able to
attend to her. Bhe was a plainly-dressed
gentlewoman, with fine gray eyes and a
pale, tired face, apparently about thirty
years of age. Bhe had been pretty
once but time and trouble had stolen
away the bloom of youth; and though
her features were good, she could
scarcely be described as pretty now.
To-night she was cold and weary, and
stood pensively waiting until some one
should come to her assistance.
Presently a porter approached.
"Want a cab, Miss?" he asked civ
illy. 41 Yes. Will you please to carry this
box V"
The man picked it up and walked off,
followed by the lady.
So great had been the demand for cabs
that evening that by this time there
was but one to be seen outside the
station, and that one had just arrived
with a fare. The horse was steaming
and the driver looked surly.
" Where do .you want to go ?" he
asked the lady gruffly.
" To Stoke Bishop," she replied.
"Where there?"
" I will tell you when we get there,"
returned Miss Lyon, not very well
pleased with the man's manner.
The driver muttered something to
himself, banged the tin trunk down on
the roof of the cab and drove off in a
huff. " !. ', .:" C- V
" I wish there had been another cab'
thought Laurette Lyon, uneasily, as she
leaned back in her seat. "I don't like
this driver at all. I wonder if he Is
drunk. I hope Mr. Mansfield will be at
home when I reach Tivoli. I will ask
him to pay him for me."
In the meantime the, cab was pro
gressing as rapidly through the crowded
slippery streets as could reasonably be
expected, and iAurette began to look
about her. Eight yean had passed since
she had visited Bristol, under circum
stances very different from the present.
Then her father had been her compan
ion ; they had stayed at a faslonable
hotel and money bad been plentiful.
Now she was an orphan ; a lonely, hard
working governess, going PenJ
Christmas With an old school-friend
who had been recently married. Lau
rette did not like Christmas. To her it
was a time haunted with sad memories.
Every year as Christmas Eve came
round the picture of a certain Christmas
Eve long ago roe up before her eyes.
Bhe could see It all. The pretty draw-lng-room,
lighted only by the flickering
fire, In the roomy old house at Black
heath; and Herbert Linday's earnest
face as.he asked her to be his wife. How
happy they were that evening and how
eags?r Herbert had been to ask Dr.
Lyon's consent, never dreaming of
refusal. They had sat side by side hope
fully planning for the future and listen
ing between whiles for her father's step.
And when they heard him enter the
house and cross the hall to his study
Herbert had risen up at once, anxious
to get the interview over and return to
her.
"Give me one kiss before I go,
Laurette," he had said.
But she had laughingly refused.
"1 will owe It you," she had said,
kissing her hand to him as he had
turned to look at her at the door.
Bhe had never seen him since.
The Interview proved to be a long,
and alas 1 a stormy one. ' Dr. Lyon re
fused Herbert's offer in harsh, almost
insulting terms ; and the young man,
deeply wounded and mortified, had
hastily left the house, and shortly after
wards quitted the country for Australia.
Before sailing he had written once to
Laurette.
"As your father sets such a high
value on money, and requires so much,"
he wrote, " I have resigned my sltua.
tion, and am going out to Australia to
make my fortune. It will be a long
process, I fear ; but a strong will and a
stout heart can do much, and I .Bbail
not want for these if I am assured of
your faith, Laurette. Will you be true
to me, as I shall ever be to you, even
though years may pass before you hear
from me again, for I shall not write
unless I have good news to send. Think
well before you answer, and do not
promise unless you can do so freely and
with your whole heart. It is no light
thing that I ask, and it may, and proba
bly will, Involve years of weary waiting.
If you have any doubt of your own
feelings, of your own strength, I beseech
you tell me now. Bemember, your
promise once given, I shall believe in it
implicitly, and on the strength of It
build all my future happiness."
To this Laurette had answered simply
" I love you dearly, and as long as I live
I will be true to you."
Two years later, on Christmas Eve,
Dr. Lyon died suddenly. His daughter,
in common with most persons who
knew him, had Imagined him to be a
wealthy man ; but after his death it was
discovered that he had lived far beyond
his means, and when all claims were
satisfied a paltry 20 a year was all that
remained for Laurette.
It Is a hard thing for any girl brought
up in ease and Idleness to be suddenly
turned out of a luxurious home and
compelled to earn her own living as
best she may. Fortunately Miss Lyon
was a girl of sense and resolution, and
she had at once bravely faced the posi
tion ; and though her heart ached for
her father's loss and she keenly felt the
change of circumstances, she had never
theless calmly accepted the inevitable
and had taken, without ado, the first
situation that offered. Eight years ago
to night Dr. Lyon died, and . for eight
years Laurette had been working hard
as a dally or resident governess. Ten
years had rolled away since she and
Herbert parted, and all that time J no
news of him had reached her. How she
had thought and dreamed of him and
longed with heart-longing for a letter.
But no letter had ever, come ; and year
by year hope slowly waned In her
breast, and now ft was well nigh dead.
" I shall never see him again," she
thought. " He is dead, I know, or be
must have had some good newa to send
me all these long years." She kept her
faith to him Inviolate. It la an easy
thing to be true to an absent lover if no
lover at your side tempts you to break
your word. But Laurette'a faith had
been tried by temptation, and her quiet
"no" had been so decided that no
aspirant for her hand had ever ventured
to repeat his offer.
This visit to Bristol had quickened
many old recollections, and her thoughts
this Christmas Eve were sadder even
than usual. Wrapped in her own re
flection s she did not notice how far she
had proceeded on her way to Ktoke
Bishop, or how slowly the cab was
progressing.
As before stated, It was a bitterly cold
night. Bain had fallen in the afternoon,
and before the ground had bad time to dry
the wind changed and it had begun to
freeze and was freezing still, and all the
country roads were like glass. In the
beaten Bristol thoroughfares and along
White Ladies' road progress was fairly
easy ; but having climbed the step bit of
hill at Iledland and gained the level of
the down that stretched between that
and the pretty village of Bloke it became
difilcult for the horse to stand, and
when about half way across the down,
to Laurette'a great surprise, the cabman
suddenly pulled up, and, getting down,
opened the cab-door.
" You must get out," he said, roughly.
" Get out?" repeated Miss Lyon, In
astonishment. " Why this Is not Btoke
Bishop I We are not more than half
way across the down I"
" I know where I am well enough,
but I can't take you a step further. My
'orse can't keep 'Is feet, and I'm not
a going to 'ave 'is knees broke, and 'is
neck, too, p'r'aps, for anybody."
" Do you mean to say that you Intend
to leave me with my baggage here, in
the middle of the down ?" asked Lau
rette, quietly. "And at this time of the
evening, too ?"
" Where is it you want to go to ?"
" To Tlvoll-Mr. Mansfield's."
" Bight away down at the bottom of
Btoke Hill ? No, Miss, I ain't a-going
to take you there, not if you were to
give me a five-pound note ; but I'll tell
you what I'll do," with an air of
making a great concession" I'll drive
you over to one of them villas," point
ing with his whips to lights twinkling
in the distance, "and you can leave
your box at one of 'em and walk on."
" But I do not know any one living
there 1" exclaimed Laurette, aghast at
the man's impudence; "and I could not
think of taking such a liberty."
"Well, please yourself; only you
must get out of my cab," was the rough
answer.
" I shall do nothing of the kind," said
Miss Lyon, decisively. " You will drive
me back to Bedland ; there I may be
able to get another cab or at any rate a
man to carry my box."
"And supposing I don't, Miss, what
then ?" with an ugly leer.
" Then you won't be paid," was the
prompt answer. And Laurette looked
the rude driver steadily in the face,
although In her heart she was getting
afraid of him, and very heartily wished
herself safe in her friend's house.
The man grumbled a good deal, but
finally climbed back to his seat and
turned his horse's head toward Bedland.
He had not gone very far, however,
before he again pulled up, and Miss
Lyon heard him accost some one on the
road. . A man's voice, answered, and
Laurette, hastily letting down the win.
dow, heard the driver rejoin :
" There's a young woman inside as
wants a hesoort down to Stoke. P'r'aps
you'll oblige 'er?"
The Insolence of the man's tone was
more than Laurette could brook. She
sprang out of the cab and addressed
herself to a tall man, with his coat
collar turned up and his hat pressed
down over his eyes, who stood on the
path.
" I want some one to carry my box to
Mr. Mansfield's at Stoke," she said, In
a clear tone. " If you can do so I shall
be glad to pay you what you think
proper. This cabman can't or won't
drive me there."
Her veil was thrown back and the
light of a neighboring lamp showed to
the stranger a pale, finely-cut face and
a pair of flashing gray eyes. She was
too flurried and angry to notice his
appearance.
) Without a word he turned to the
driver. "Give me the trunk," he said,
in a deep, gruff voice.
" Trunk, indeed," returned the other
with a sneer; " 'tis but a light bit of a
box."
" I have a heavy hand," returned the
stranger In the same deep voice. "Do
you want to fee) the weight of it?"
The man looked up, startled.
" I want my fare," he said, in a more
civil tone.
Laurette paid him and then, with her
new companion, turned her face towards
Stoke.
They walked on in silence. The lady
was greatly relieved to escape from the
Insolent cabman, and felt grateful to the
stranger for bis opportune arrival and
readiness to oblige her; and, taking
him to be a respectable artisan, or some
thing of that kind, began presently to
talk to him. He, however, did not
appear to be disposed to converse, and
replied bo briefly to her remarks that
the conversation soon ceased altogether;
and when he did speak his voice was so
gruff and deep that it sounded unnat
ural, and the idea occurred to Laurette
that it must be assumed.
The idea was not a pleasant one.
What Could be the meaning of it V Bhe
noticed, also, that he kept looking at
her continually. Bhe never lifted her
eyes without encountering his gleaming
at her from under the shadow of his
hat. Brave though she was, Bhe grew
nervous and uncomfortable. She knew
absolutely nothing of this man, and bis
manner was suspicious. Had sue only
been freed from an Impudent driver
to fall into the hands of a tblef or a
murderer?
It was between seven and eight
o'clock, and very dark. At that hour,
on such a bitter night, the road they
were pursuing was practically as though
there were not a house within a mile
of it.
What was there to hinder this fellow
from knocking her down with one blow
of his strong arm, robbing her at his
leisure and then walking off with her
box and other property and leaving her
there to perish in the cold ? If it came
to blows she would struggle hard, she
was resolved ere she would submit to be
robbed of her valuables. But what if
he were to slip behind her and in some
sudden, treacherous manner deprive her
of all power of resistance V She shiver
ed at the thought, and stepped out into
the centre of the road; and when her
companion followed her example, and
placed himself again at her side, she
almost screamed aloud with terror.
He saw her start.
" Is there anything the matter J"' he
aBked, and his manner was so kind that
Laurette began to be ashamed of her
fears.
Ten minutes more brought them to
the foot of the hill, and examining the
names on the gate-posts by the aid of a
few flaming fuses, they quickly found
themselves, to Laurette's great relief,
in the well-lit hall of the house they
sought.
The man put down the box, and the
neat housemaid went to inform her
mistress of Miss Lyon's arrival.
" I am much obliged to you," said
Laurette, drawing out her purse. " How
much do I owe you ?" And looking at
her companion she noticed, for the first
time, and with dismay, that he looked
much more like a gentleman than an
artisan.
"You owe me a kiss, madam," he
answered in a different and natural
tone.
"Sir I" she ejaculated, in utter sur
prise, though now his voice sounded
strangely familiar.
" Have you forgotten the kiss you
promised me ten years ago to-night,
Laurette V" and he tossed aside his hat
and stepped toward her.
"Herbert I Oh, Herbert!"
And Mrs. Mansfield, coming into the
hall a moment later, stood still in mute
astonishment to behold Laurette grave,
fastidious Laurette clasped close in the
arms of a tall, fine-looking man.
" Well !" she exclaimed, at length.
At the sound of her voice Laurette
released herself, and turned an April
face, all tears and smiles, toward her
friend. ,
" You have heard me speak of Herbert
Lindsay V He has come home at last
at last!" and she leaned her head on his
arm and sobbed outright. ,
Two hours later Herbert and Laurette
sat together in Mrs. Mansfield's cosy
little drawing-room. Miss Lyon, look
ing so young and pretty in her new
found happiness that In Herbert's eyes
she seemed the very Laurette of tea
years ago, as she sat in a low chair by
the Are, with, a screen in her hand and
bet face turned toward her loweiv
"And so you were unfortunate the
ftrst five years ?" she said.
" Yes, bo unfortunate and poor that
sometimes I hardly knew how or when
I should get my next meal. When
things were steadily improving with me
for rather more than a year, 1 wrote to
you, but received no answer. I waited
a few months, and then wrote again
with the same result. Then I waited
six months, and wrote for the third
time, and after awhile my own letter
was returned to me with the single word
Gone' on it. You may Imagine how
disappointed I was. I made inquiries
respecting you of all those likely to be
acquainted with your movements, but
all that I could learn was that your
father was dead and that you had left
the neighborhood. So I thought the
best thing I could do was to work harder
than ever, and return to England at the
earliest possible moment and search for
you myself; and thank Heaven I I have'
found you."
"And how strangely it came about,"
said Laurette, smiling. " Do you know
I thought you were going to murder me
at one time?" and to his amusement,
she told him of the fears that had pos
sessed her.
" I am bo glad now that I came to
Bristol," returned Herbert. "I was
knocking about in London, putting all
kinds of machinery in motion with the
object of finding you which, by the
way, I must stop now, when I came
across an Australian friend, who with
his wife returned to England two years
ago. He told me he had bought a bouse
at Stoke Bishop and Invited me to'
spend Christmas with them. A lonely
old bachelor, staying at a hotel, I was
only too glad to accept his Invitation.
Arrived at Bedland, I found there was
no cab to be had on account of . the
slippery state of the roads, and so left
my portmanteau at the 'Black Boy,'
intending to ask my friend to send his
gardner for it. And glad I am that I
did so, or I should never have met with
this happy Christmas Adventure."
On Christmas morning Herbert Lind
say found out his friend's house, and
explained the cause of his non-appearance
on the previous evening.
A month later there was a quiet wed
ding at Btoke Church, and after a few
happy weeks on the Continent, Mr. and
Mrs. Lindsay sailed for Australia. In
due course Herbert showed to his dear
wife with Infinite pleasure the comforta
ble, even luxurious home that he had
worked so long and so hard to prepare
for her.
Good Advice to Married People.
A worthy wife of forty years standing
and whose life was not made of sun
shine and peace, gave the following and
impressive advice to a married pair of
her acquaintance. The advice is so good
and well suited to all married people as
well as those entering that state, that we
here publish it for the benefit of such
persons:
"Preserve sacredly the privacies of
your own house, your married state and
your heart 1 Let no father, mother, sis
ter or brother ever presume to come be
tween you, or share the Joys or sorrows,
that belong to you two alone. With
mutual help build your quiet work, not
allowing your dearest friend to be the
confidant of aught that becomes your
domestio peace. Let moments of alien
ation, if they occur, be healed at once.
Never, no never, speak of it outside, but
to each other confess, and all will come
out right Never let the morrow's sun
still find you at variance. ' Renew and
renew your vow ; it will do you good,
and thereby your mluds will grow to
gether, contented in that love which is
stronger that death,and yon will become
truly one.
O" Bad temper is a crime and like
other crimes, is ordained In the course
of nature to meet, sooner or later, its
merited reward. Other vile passions
may have some points of extenuation ;
the pleasures, for example, which may
attend their indulgence, but ill-nature
that is, a fretful fault finding spirit, in
its origin, action, and end, has no ex
tenaating qualities.