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Ix>T«*s uiteit AII7. BUo will itut wsLuaer ui (tie wouJ. lluQoath its t>t>Qdiiig U 'llghH. TDio while he ttttU hin tale uf love Aud I'ledgee Huliuiii vuwd. Hhii will not walk upon the ftUorti Where Octtau'0 tiroluttn vole*) Would drown tho loiiBtd f.>r wor.U t!u' Hurseorbl nouln-juice. Not o'on tho iwiukliiif,' atar* ahovo, N(»r >et lh« timid brcfr.e, fihftllbemikduHileiit partaers iu Huoli preciouH things ah these. 8h«'ll hoar ui> wurd till tUay are Batu Hhut up witliui four waltfi. Atid th«n Hhe II uush ho Ayllahle That from tlu- loved lips fallf. And while nhe truaauruR up each c i';j Witliiti hur hoiirt Khf'il luuitti •rf> think tliey're alHo rMnintfrod Upi'U Iii>r piiua(_>^raph A"d.s>jould hu *i'*ir go Ua':k 'ipo'i His wjrd, rtho'll briii;; a hreacb 01 rromiati aait. and (iproduce â€" Xuc'jurt â€" Bach ^illy Hpweoh. ESIELLE'S INFATOATIOS : A NOVEL. " I am afraici not at kII," ho ii:i9w<irad. "I am fjoinjj bick to London tooigbt. I want to Had out, thoa^h," he addad, sud- denly, 'â-  wlio put th»t lyiD){ anno^ncsmant of my death into the Timet. Wa>i it Mrs. Clanrioirde or Mr. Ilarford?" " No oae knows who it was," eaid Jiidy Eli/.abeth. " Bat I am sure it was not Mr. Harford," nhe added, with emphaai3. " He b Dot the liini of man to do aach a thing as tbat.- " If it was tho motherâ€"" began fJharlie. Eo did not complete hU aenteace, nor (â- \y what would folio •v that contingency. "I tele»>raphed the contradiction as Boon ah I â- aw it," he continued. " It was J:i >°ie papers on the 2Gih of April." " Yofl," blie answered. " And there ou^ht to have baen h loiter Irom me on the Hamu il»v," he continued. " An soon as I wau able, I wrote to her to tell her that 1 had been ill but wag rccover- inH- 8he should have uQl It on the 'J.\A\\, for I k°pt note of time and dates." " I do not suppose uhs was allowed to bave that. AikI perhaps it was batter as ttuDKS were," Haiti Lady Kli/abeth. " Not better," lio answered, fiercely, " if it had preventeil tni^i hideous Baorile^i>. I •m Bare sbe would not have committed this crime if uhe had known that 1 wax •live." This was one of hi.i thoujihts. Another was that she hail voluntarily sold herself, now for her mothi-r'^ uiki', ttr;d now, whin be was especially bittur, fir her own. " Hhe certainly believed yoa dead," haul Lady Elizabeth. "I do uut sappo:>e she knows tbat yo'J are alive now. tier )iii< band woald probably not tell hT even if be knows, and I am sure Mrs. Clanricaruo would not." " She $li'tH know, that I e^ear," htid Charlie, eicite(:;y. Caleb touched his arm with a dcprocat- tni; hand. •* Would it not bo better to let her live in peace?" ho asked, hamb'.y. "U n done DOW, and cannot bs undone. Should she not be left to bear what she has to bear, without more l)tini.; aildjd to it '!" "That IS my aff«ir, not yours," haid Charlie, liaii>>htily, and ilie p:>oi omad' haun for a moment Bhraiil; back- Then, emboldened by bin loyal love, and to spare her whom he 'iivud the faintest thrill of pain, he xnid, steadily : "Ni>lull your affair, Mr. OalKjriie There is a rij-lit •nd a wrouK to everything, and all who value another have a certain voiCM in their matters. We liave tho rinht to t.peak both Lady Kli/abath and 1 in n matter which touches the happim hh of Mrs. liar. ford, for wo are her friends too, a^ well as you, Mr. Osborne, thoajjli wo have not your pait; and we may without ciflonco deprecate what wonM give her pain." It was scarcely Caleb Ktatjg who B;)oko. It wai tho hunchback whoae wiiijjs wero free and wboae hump had ^jone. " I shall do as I think best," said ('hatlie, proudly, unable to meet his farmer rival on thi« liiKher ground. 'â-  Hume day elio siiall know the infamous cheat that was prac- ticed on her, ami shall reooKui/.o all of them •( tho scoundrels they arc. I'athnr, mother, husband, friend- there was net run to warn htr, not one io protein her t" " Ilcr friends did not kno#," said lady Eli/.abeth. " I was not hero." " Aud it was eveniiii{ punt when I heard the news," said Oaleb. " Amoii)! you you have broken my heart •nd destroyed her life!" said (.'liarlio, with a burst of passion, an he turnc 1 abruptly â- way, feeliu){ truly the Ishmaelite aman){ men â€" his hand against every man's, every man's hand against his. CUAI'TER XVII. TKi; llOMK-CliMIN.i. Tho Bartords had been many mouths •broad. A strange instinct of danger I.ept Anthony unt of England and loiteriuf,' among Italian towns and Hwi.iji chalets, where hu had his beautiful ynun^ ^vife hII to himself, and where no rocks wore ahead which he did not see. Bo they wandered over ]Curope, anil Anthony did his best to warm this lovely statue into life, and reanimate the dead heart with a new love. It was all in vain. Then the home jonrney was made, and they name back to Kntjiand, and soon were re-established at Thrift. lio knew that he had not won Esttlle. For all his love and care, his passionate de â- ire to gain her heart, hi.s ea^'er devotion, bis very fever of endeavor to win hor love, ho knew that he had not caught one sini^le ray of her affection. Bhe endured him be- cause she was obliged to endure him â€" because she had no alternative, no place uf refuge from him ; because, too, she was of a sweet and gentle nature and she ooold not belie herself. But she only ondared him on those lines of compulsion. Mrs. Olanri- cards touched the sore by pretending to Anthony that things were other than what they were -that Kstelle was loving and responsive when sho was dead and inert. The clear eyes of the clever diplomatist saw the whole situation at a glance. Hho added, as an afterthought, " At present â- be is a litte languid, and indeed I should almost say, apathetic ; but that will pass when her child is born. I have often aeon young mothers expectant like this." Then Anthony's stern bronzed face brighteneil. " Yes," he said. " I suppose bo. Khn is not, as you say, Mrs. Claoricarde, very lively just at present ; but I sappooe it will pass. Indeed, I am sure it will." " Bo am I," aaid Estelle's mother, briakiy, jast as her daughter came slowly toward her, saying, " Will yoa not go to yonr nom, mother'/" as if she had said, " Two and two made four," with 00 more emphasis and no animation. " ller mind is certainly touched ! " said Mrs. Claurioardo to herself as she went upstairs. " What a dreadful thing, and in her state, too. Pray heaven she may never know that this detestable young man is alive ! If she Qnds it out â€" well, there will be a catastrophe, that is very certain I And the blame will fall on me. It always does fall on the mother when a marriage turns Ul!" CHAPTER XVIIL Tin; Kl'IliEU .^Nli THE KLV. nape's tales were false and flattering as usual : Katelle'e new state of motherhood left her general condition nnahanged. Naturally she loved the child ; but she took no more interest than before in any- thing else. A9 sho grew stronger in health, hor apathy seemed to increase. Bhe tked nothing for her duties as hoaso-mislress and local sn/.erain, and did not fulfil tham. But any one could have opened that window n her breast throa^h which her thouiihta coald be read, what a wild world would not be revealed ! â€"what mad and fevernh plans of esoapa with her child to aomo unknown and distant land, where she could live with him and her fatal memories, and forget the hideous slavery into which she bad been sold ! She had always that money so mysteriously sent to Charlie. Viewed by the light of her desires, it was a bank that would never fail, a river of gold that would never ran dry. If only she could escape from England, and put Thril:, hor husband, and her hated name forever behind her I Wh >t a volcano raged and burnt beneath hor soft, still, fro/>n cover I what a very fierceness of hatred was masked by that gentle sweetness and that unresponsive aptthy ! And how well she kept the secret of heart, and bow perfectly she played her part I What Anthony suffered, felt or thonght, no one know, and perhaps he scarcely confessed to himself. With his heart's blood ho watered the desert sands, which gave him back nothing in return. There was not oven the hamblest little tlower of love ; there was nothing but barren sand and lifeless rock. Closely surrounded as ghe was by this investing love, Kstelle had little or no freednni. One day Anthony wont to a rather distant tocvo where he had to sit judging oases, wheacu he was sure not to return till niuht. Estelle had never been to s.m< Mrs. Latimer or her servant -Charlie's Osborne's former nurse â€" since that day when she had gone with her father and mother and Anthony, then only her lover. To-day the oppor- tnnity soomed ready made to her hand. Accordingly she walked across the park and down Pleads Lane, till the came to that ro'.v of hoUHea standing on tho outskirts of the town and at th'> extremity of the I hrifl estate, in one of which Mrs. Latimer and Mary (Crosby lived in their strict seclusion and by no means overcharged luxnry Eatell'i knocked at the door, and Mary, after scanning hor in the niirrnr set edge wis' against the window, went back to the old la^y, and said, in an excited whispor " Cilory ! it's Mrs. Harford at last ! Tnll uivin the blind, Mrs. Latimer, mullli your head, nnd koep the room dark Wu can do with lur. It'H tho Lord's rneroy she has (.'(Jinn ! " '• Wtll, Mary ! How glad I am to see yoci a;;ain I " said Kstelle, shaking hands impniaivelv with Charlie's old iinrse. ' And 1 am ijlad to sp« you. Miss lUtelln, ' Raid Mary answering back that fri-'Hitly impniaiveness wii,h its kind. •' C.iinu in, miss-lor, deary me I â€"Mrs narforc), 1 shuiild have naid. But one for- goth. Mrs. L«timer is in one of her better wayj to-lay. She'll likely be able to Bee yon. bhii will it she can. that I know, for I l;nvi> talked a ijreat ile»l to her of old timed, when 1 was Master l^harlis's nurse you and he wero idiildrun tugether. I know she will see you it she can. So come m, plea."!')." " 1'haiik you ; yes, I will," said Litblle, who liadipiivered at the old famdiar name. Bhe took Katella into the state drawiiii{ ruumâ€" the same room into which she had been taken on that former visit more than a year it-jo- And Mary saw how the young wife dhii'ldored as the memory of tbat day came back on her uiiod. 'If I don't make somothing of this." tlK'U^ht Mary, feeling like one tabbing all rou:; I a cabinet to tiud the secret drawer itn hidden key. ' 1 will go and see if Mrs. Latimer can seo you, miss -Mrn- Ilarford," she then said, with a p«i.. ,iiible hestaiion on th* na:i;e. VVhy did she want to reoall her unmarried state to Kstelle 'Z What sued lier, ad tho Hcotch say, at her preeont oonflition as the wife of Mrs. Latim-ir's landlord'/ Had Kstelle been in full possession of her natural niind she wjald have seen those ominous little threads, and would have feared them ; but she was too preoccupied to see anything but her own inner solt, or to he couscioos of aught but hor own sorrowfnl thoughts. In a short time Mary oame back- Y s ; Mr». Latimer was well enough to see tier to-day. On which Kstolle aucoinpaiiiad Charlie's old nnrae into the back room, where, sitting in the dim obscurity of a darkened chamber, mnDI-id np in shawls and buried in pillows, eat the tenacious old annuitant wlrose ugly triok of living was keeping the Clanricardesont of a tidy little inoomd sorely needed, while adding a few une.\peated plums to poor Charlie Osborne's not too Insoious loaf. " This is Miia Clanrioarde, ma'am, as Mrs. Harford as is," shouted Mary to the old lady. " 8ho is that deaf," she added in a natural voice to Kstelle. " Glad to sue yon, ma am," said the old lady, coughing lugiibrioasly. " 1 am sorry yon have suohaooogb," said tender-hearted Kstelle. " Hr.y '/ what does she say?" aiked Mrs. Latimer of Mary. Mary ropeatod the phrase in her bsat swain's voice, and Mrs. Latimor was made to bear. " It is ray grava-ooagh, my dear," she answered. " Your father will soon oome into my little bit of money. I'm not long for this world, I can tell yoa, and the Lord will aeon bave ineroy on my old bones." " Ihopnnotso bad as that," said Kstelle. The old woman's keen blaok eyes twinkled. " Lord love your dear innocent heart I " she said, and ooughed more vigorously than before. " Best not let her talk, Mrs. Harford," then iotorpssed Mary. " Talking makes her oou^h so bad ! " " But I can't fail to say how good you always were," said Kstelle. " To poor dear Master Charlie ? " " Yes," said Kstelle, with a quiver in her voice. " Ah, but then I loved him ! Who woald not?" said Mary. "He was the bonniest little gentleman as ever wore shoe- leather. I never knew his eijual t " " Nor I," said Estelle, with the frankness f despair. There was no reason why she should not carry this incense of fidelity to tint dear grave, why she should not keep his memory like a perfnme in her heart. " That was a ijueer start, that word of his death, was it not, Miss Kstelle â€" Mrs. Harford, I mean ? " asked Mary. Kstelle opened her eyes. They were full of tears. " Why ? " she asked in her turn. " What was there queer in it '/ " " Why, did you not know ? " said Mary, in surprise. " It was all false news. Ue is not dead at all. Tho baokword came into the paper, let me see, the '2fjlh of April, last year â€" yes, the '2f)th of April. And now this is August, a year gone, and we have heard no more aboat him." Estelle started ap from her place as if she bad been struck. Her face was while and rigid ; her eyes were dark and strained : her parted lips were as full of horror as a Creek tragic mask. She lo:>ked as if suddenly turned to stone, but with always the fiery heart of suffering within tho mi>rbla body. Tho 2Uih of Aprilâ€" last year '.' " she said, slowly. Yes, ma'am," answered Mary. " I have it here" Bbe opened a drawer io the table and took out a Timei newspaper. " There," she said, pointing to the "agony column" â€" "there is Master Charlie's own words." Overcome, beside herself, lika one dis- traught, Kstelle read the words, which she carried to her \ip» with a low cry of mingled joy and pain, then fell prone on the tloor as if she had been shot through the heart. " Now the road's clear," said Mary, as she lifted her up and dashed cold water in her face. " It is, as plain as daylight, and I was right. They've sold the poor young thing tu this man here, and she loves Master Charlie as a wife shouldn't ou^ht- There is a bad day in store for Mr. Harford and the rest of them ; and 1 reokon I've got lepper enoagh for them now if they come I ing about us any more." ' My word, Mary, but you ara bold ! " aaid Mrs. Latimer, as she had so often said before. Her admiration of the younger woman's cltvi!rn(B4 and audacity increased rather than diminished with each fresh | manifestation. " What I pat mv hand to I don't turn back from," said Mary, sententiously. As she still butied herself about Kstelle- Al last the |>oor girl oame out of her SToon and re-entered the thorny path of consciousness. Bhe could not now, if even aha would, deny the confession fit) hau involuntarily made. Naturehad forced her secret from her. and the lorn veil could not be replaced. Mary knew her heart, and so far held her in the hollow of her hand. Bat she did not think of this in the light of danger to herself. Bhe thought only of the woman's sym|iathy, so certain bectuse of her own for ('harlie. Hhe would be pitiful to her -understanding how another should also lava him, even though that other were now a wife and mother. And she would be some one tu whom she, Kslelle . could come and talk without fear or stmt. Whenever there waa a free day she would come over to Highstile Lane and talk to Mary Crosby of Charlie -Charlie, the child whjm ahe had nursedâ€" Charlie, the man whom Kstelle still I ived. But the bUok wickedness uf those who should have been her best friends, the cruelty of those who should have cared for her and pro- tected her '. Khe saw it all, as clearly as she saw the words themselves. Her mother had iusertod the he of Clharlie's death that the way might be free for Anthony. The marriage had been hastened on with anch indecent hurry that the contradiction might not arrive meanwhile. It had come on the very day, and it had been kept from her. At tho altar itself she would bavj turned back and refused to becoms Anthony's wife had she known that Charlie was still alive. Hoodwinked, betrayed, en- trapped, what faith did sho owe to any of them? What right had they to her life? Nonet Krom this moment she felt heraelf essentially free. The past had oome before the present, and her very child had nut the claim that Charlie Oaburno had. The wakening from thise long months of mental lethargy and emotional rieath had come with a vengeance. Burning with fever, strong with the fictitious strength of mingled outrage and despair, like the armor in which her love had clothed itself, Kstelle felt as if she oould have braved the whole world for the sake of the one dear love of htr life. All she wanted now was to see bun, to hear his voice, to tell him how her heart had been broken how her life had been ruined by the shameful lie which had been palmed off on her for truth â€"but how through it all she had kept her love and her faith and constancy intaot. They had sold her body into worse than bondage, but they had not touched her soul, her love, her heart. All that she had been she still was, and the love that had grown with her growth and had lived through all opposition was still as pure and true as when they last met and parted. Ay I pare and true, for all that hated ring on her linger and that alien babe at her breast I I'ull of these thoughts, she went back through the park to the house she had never adopted as her home. But, like all timid creatures, she knew that she must hide what she felt, if she oould not feign what she did not feel. And when Anthony oame home he found her is he had left her â€"silent, quiescent, unresponsive, mono- syllabio â€" ueilher pleased with nor averse from â€" a mere sweet and patient living oorpse, whose love he ponred out his strong heart's blood la vain to win. But he noticed with the quick eyes of love that her hands boroed as if with fever, that her usaally pale fao« waa flashed and hectic, and that her parched lips were dry. He notioad too, when he took her in his arms and drew her to his breast with that unloved seeking to gain what is denied, that she visibly shuddered and drew herself away as if she had been stung. He did not let her see what pain this mute repulse gave him. As gently, as tenderly as he had taken her did be now relinquish her ; but over all his inner being came tho deadly eioknoss which men call despair- that anguish of impotent fury which would revenge itself it it ooald, and whish cannot find the objact. CHAPTER XIX. LIKE \ IJIIII- TO ITS NE-SI. Charlie, still lingering at Kingshouec. took that strange pleasure eo maoh indulged in by the sorrowful of adding to bis distress of mind by every means in bis power. Every one pitied him, so pale and hollow- eyed, so gaunt and sad as he was ; and every one prophesied for him a speedy rest beneath the peaceful soda of the church- yard. Even Mrs. Clanricarde found a compas- sionate corner in her heart for tha enemy whom she had now disabled. Bbe wished that she could have secured her own releas9 from debt, and Estelle's sufficienl establishment, by less painful methods than her daughter's life long misery and Charlie Osborne's threatened dissolution. It was very sad ; but then people are so headstrong and unreasonable, and will not see things as they are. nor act rationally I What business bad these two young people to fall in love as they had done ? They knew the thing was impossible. It was their folly, not her falsehood, which had wrought all the mischief, and we must be responsible, each of us, for our own doings. Nevertheless, she was sorry to see the poor boy look so ill, and wished that she could have comforted bim. But Charlie would have none of her sympathy ; and Mrs. Clanricarde, with a French shrug of hor shoulders, left him to bis fate and called him impayable. One saltry summer's day a letter came to Charlie Osborne â€" an anonymous letter, in the well-known handwriting, but with a different poet-mark. Hitherto all these letters had been posted in London ; but this was stamped Thorbergh. It contained money and these words : •' Come to Thorbergh. Yoa are badly wanted. Your old nurse, Mary Crosby, lives at 3, Htghstile Lane, and can tell you some things you ou^ht to know." Thorbergh ! the place where his faithless love had her home. What new delusion was this? What meshes were enclosing him? And who was his unknown friend who sent him these sporadic supplies ? It could nut be she, for they had come to him before her great wealth had come to her. 1 1 could not be Mary Crosby herself. How oould a poor servant send him money far exceeding any possible wages or savings she might have? Yet the handwriting was the same. The next day, as early as was practicable, Charlie found the house where Mrs. Latimer lived in such strict seclusion, and was welcomed by Mary with shrill exclam- ations of wonderment and delight. He went into the cold, hard, primly set best drawing-room, and there began his cross-examination. He showed Mary the letter be had received, and asked her what she knew about it. " Nay, what ! " she said, iu answer, " I know naught at all! It it were the last word I had to speak I'd «ay with my dying breath. I know naught about it anyway." " But what have you to tell me '.' " he asked agaui. " Why should I be summoned here ? " " That caps me," said Mary. " That's just what gels ovar me. Master Charlie.' Charlie thought for an instant before speaking. His eyes wero turned to the floor ; Mary's were ou his face. " Do you remember Mias Clanricarde?" ho then asked, with a oartain reluotauoe. He did not like to bring her name into the vulgar light of a servant's i)uu8i-aooQdenoe. "Mrs. Harford as is?" she returned. " Yes, I know her well. Mr. Harford is the landlord of all this lot. He is Mrs. Latimer's landlord, and Mrs. Harford sometimes comes to see us." Poor Charlie's faoe changed as eloquently as Estelle's when she had heard of his oou- tiaued existence. He covered his eyes with bis hand. The mystery deepened, but the glory that shone through its darkness blinded him. Could it have been she her- Bolt who had sent the letter ! But no I the handwriting was familiar. It was con- nected with those sporadic supplies, and theao were not uonnected with her. No. It was not Estelle who had summoned him, and not Mary Crosby. Who, in Heaven's name, could it be '' " Mrs. Harford waa here only the other day," continued Mary, iu an indifferent voice. " She had not heard ot your being alive. Master Charlie, as I am tbat glad to sea. She had not heard of it till I cham^sd to tell her." " No !" said Charlie, with a shout. " And then 1 ' " Well, yon see, sir, the shock was almost too much for her," oontinued Mary. " She is iu poor health, poor young lady, aud looks white and thin- as white and thin as yourself. Master Charlie. And when I showed her the paper, why, she just shrieked and fainted, and fell flat on the floor." Charlie got up and walked to the window. His heart was beating wildly, his eyes were dim, bis bead was di^y.y. Bhe loved him, then â€" loved him now as much as ever , and her marriage had been, as be had always believedâ€" forgetting tho baser whisparings of his angry suspicions- a forced marriage founded on a lie. Bhe was faithtal to him still. Dear, sweet, loving, and beloved Estelle I faithful, faithful for life and to death -as he to her I And now what was to be done? He was here, and eho was not au hour's walk apart ; and yet were they not separated as com- pletely as though impassable mountains and the unharvested sea lay between them ? They were, in fact, farther apart than when he had been sick with fever in Yoko- hama, and she had been free and unfettered at Kingshoase. But they must meet. He mast see her. cost what it might. He owed nothing to the man who had robbed him of ber, nothing to the society, the superstition, which sanctioned this sacrilege and oalled it saored. He owed himself only to her, to clear himself from any possible charge of indifference or carelessness or wrong-doiag anyhow. He owed himself only to her. " Does Mrs. Harford often oome here?" asked Charlie, when he oame back to him- tenderneas, that infinite yearning of the self so far as to remember that he owed something t Crosby was not in bis coofidenca. " Not often, sir. Only when Mr. Harford is away," was the answer. " I faaoy he keeps her pretty tight," she added as a oompaasionate coda or afterthought. " Brute ! " said Charlie, with a groaa. " A little that way, I think," said Maty, with a sigh. Charlie clinched his hands. If be oould but have used them as battering rams to pound the life out of that scoundrel 1 " I should like to S3e her again," said Charlie, after a pause. " Why not call. Master Charlie," Mary asked, innocently. " I sm certain sora she would be fain to see you. Bhe ia of the kind to love her own, and yoa are like her own â€" like her very brother, aa one might say." " I do not know Mr. Harford, and I would not care to call at his place," aaid Charlie, a little relaotantly. " Perhaps I shall meet her," said Charlie, moving toward the door. " X should like to see." " Yes, you'll be sure to meet her," returned Mary, cheerfully. " Mr. Harford drives her a good deal about the country. You'll be main sure to meet them." " Confound and corse Mr. Harford '. " cried Charlie, beside himself. " For God'a sake, Mary, spare mo his name 1 " " .Ml right, sir. I have no partionlar affection for bim myself,' was her answer. " All the same, Miss Estelle is his wife, you see. Master Charlie, and a wife ia bound to follow ber husband's lead." "I will wring his nsok ! " groaned Charlie. Mary looked as she used in olden timea when he was naughty and had to ba spanked. Oh, flo I Master Charlie," she said, in just the old tone of reproof. " What has the pocr gentleman done to you, 1 should like to know ? " What no gentleman would have done- - a cur lika him deserves hanging for ! " shouted Charlie. " He has taken the womao I love and who loves me â€" and he haa taken her by a lie â€" and bo knew it." Mtry s face took on its natural hardness curves and hues ot the softest sympathy. " I am sorry ! oh, my, I am that sjrry ! " she said, her apron to her eyes, and her womanly sob quiie audible, .\fter a time she seemed to compose herself. " Master Charlie," she said, with the atraigbtnass of a sudden tboaght, ' why do you not come here to stay, rather than to the hotel ? There is plenty of room, aud I could do for you fine. Why not send your luggage here 7 Yoa could then stay as long as you liked in Thorbergh, and no one be a penny the worse or wiser. We live that quiet, no one sees or knows what passes here. You, and even more than you, could bave the best bed- room and this ptrlor, and you'd be as safe as it locked ap in a oharob. If you'd like It, Master Obailie, think of it. You'll find me as good as my word." " God bleijs you, lUary ! my good dear Mary!" was the poor fellow's reply, aa impulsively he put his arm round her watet and kissed her as in bis boyish days. Some vague feeling that this offer might serve bim iu good stead filled bis heart with hope and light. He did not know what he thoughtâ€" be did not formalata nor arrange his feelings into wordsâ€" but ba felt that he had abiding-place if he wanted it. And perhaps he mi),ht. With another burst of thanks to thia servant of the tough old annuitant, ha promised to bring his portmanteau that evening at dark -to bring it himself, no one knowing where he went; and then ha left the house and took the road up Mead's Lane, with full directions from Mary where tu Hnd the park and grounds ot 1 hrift. More mad than sane. Cbarlio walked on with but one hope, one desire, one intention. He would see her again. The mystery of his summons ceased to interest bim. He forgot Mary and all that lite oontained, save that one loadstar of his love â€" that glorious and beloved Eslt.'lla. He would tea her again. He would hear from ber own lips the story of her sorrow and their sin. Ha would hold her in his arms and clasp her to his heart. Bhe was bis. Bha was not this man's- -this border- rufliao, this gambler, this horse- stealer, this rude rough miner with one hand on his revolver and the other on a secreted card. Always in this turmoil of tempestuooa sorrow and longing Charlie went through tho leafy laue till he camo to a narrow opening between two uprights whioh led into a park. He passed Ibrougb and walked 00, mowing well enough wnere he was. Ho went ou and on. walking always more rapidly, till he came to the gate ol the private gardens surrounding a stately mansion, with au upper terrace leading down by a double flight ot steps into the lower grounds. Uu this upper terrace stood a woman, drasse<l for walking. She was alone. Charlie oame ap the drive till he was near enoagh to see the faoe and figure clearly. It was Estelle â€" looking tar away over the gardens anj thr park to the distant beyond- -there, where Charlie Osborne was somewhere to be found. She was too much absorbed in ber own thoughts to see the man walking in the shadow ot the trees toward the house. Ha oame close under the terrace wall, and then he called her by her name. Sba heard him, and bent over the parapet above, as one who had expected himâ€" as one who had been waiting for this moment. " Estelle I ' he said. " My darling I My beloved I " With the old light, eager treadâ€" the old suggestion of a bird running to its nest â€" she came down the steps and into the shadow of the wall, where, forgetting husband, child, her name of wife, her fair fame, and all the present savs that she was his, she flung herself into her old lover'a arms, and sobbed out her soul on his lipa. (To t>e Centlnnadl. t â€" • Abuts uf the Brain. It is well for us to know that the emo- tions oanse more unhappiness and orims than any ovher function of the brain. Itia its emotions that wear away the brain, and not intellectual work. Very few people sof- ter from intelleotual work, and, it my memory serves me, I do not recollect ever having a mathematioian for a patient. It is not intellectaal work tbat oaases ner- vous dyspepsia, but the emotions, snob aa anxiety, fear, sorrow and lova.â€" .Dr. Wm.A, Hammond. • How she got in : First Little Girlâ€" Do you live in a flat ? 1 thought they didn't take ohildren in flats. How did you get in 'I Second Little Qirlâ€" I was borned in.â€" Puck.