The following text may have been generated by Optical Character Recognition, with varying degrees of accuracy. Reader beware!

SIR GUYS WARD. A THRILLING. STORY OP LOVE AND ADVENTURE CHAPTKRXXIX. At Ck>*twoode they are all assembled in th* drawing-room, except Archibald, who Is still confined to his room, waiting for dinner : Cyril alone is absent. 'What can b* keeping him?' stays his mother, at last, losing patience as sh* picturus him dallying with his betrothed at the Cottage while th* soup i* spoiling and th* cook is gradually verging towards hysterics. She suffers an aggrieved expres- ion to grow within her ayes as she speaks from the depths of the softest ar.n-chair th* room contain* in which it is her custom to xns'-onoe herself. ' Nothing very dreadful, Idsre say,' re- plies Florence, in tones a degree less even than usual, her appetite having got the better of her sell-control. Almost as she says the words the door is thrown open, and Cyril enters. He is in morning costume, his hair is a little rough, his face pale, his lips bloo.lleu. Walking straight up to his mother, without looking sither to the right or to the left, he says, in a low constrained voioe that betrays a des- l"r*ie effort t* be calm, ' i.o satisfied, mother: you have won the day. Your wieli is fulfilled: I shall never marry Mrs. Arlington: you need not have made snoh a difficulty ab >ut giving your consent this morning, as now it is useless.' ' Cyril, what has happened T' says Lady Ohetwooode, rising to her feet alarmed, a distinct pallor overspreading her lei- tures. She puts out one jewelled hand aj though to draw him nearer to her, but for the first time in all hia life he shrinks from her gentle touch, and, moving backwards, stands in the middle of the room. Lilian, going up to him, oompels him with loving violence t* turn towards her. ' Wny don't you speak *' she asks, sharp- ly. " Have you and Cecilia quarrelled ?' ' No : il is no lovers' quarrel,' with an odd change of expression : 'we have had little time for quarreling, she and I : our days for love-making were so short, so sweet !' There is a pause ; then, in a clear harsh voioe, in which no faintest particle of feeling of her ban temper ao satisfactorily tl.-- after leu minute* her maid give* warning, and ii ready to eur*e the day the waa born. The ue.it morning, long before any one ie up, Cyril take* hi departure by the early train, and for many daye hii home know* him no more. A mighty companion for Cecilia, lilla the heard of ail at Chetwood. all, that u, ex- cept Mm Baauchamp, who privately con- siders it extremely low, and wretched form, to poswss a heart i a'.l. Lady Chetwoode, eager and aniious to atone lor post unkind thoughts, goes down to the Cottage in person and insist* on using iti sad tenant when so tender and sympathetic is she, that, the ice being broken and pride vanquished, the young woman gives way, and, laying her head upon the gentle 'jonom new her, has a hearty cry there, that eases even while it ^au>s her. I have frequently noticed that when one person falls to weeping in the arms of another, that other entertains a loiidreaae for her for a oonaidiM time afterwards Cecilia's incky rain of t-=..~ on this occasion soltens her companion wonderfully, so that Lady Chetwoode, who only came to pity, goes away admiring. There la an indescribable '. ' ilia, impossible to resist. harm about I-erhaps it i* her beauty, perhaps hsr exquisite woman- liness, combined with th* dignity that sits so sweetly on her. Lady Chetwoode suc- cumbs '/> it, and by degrees grows not only sympathetic ->wanls her, but really attach- ed to her society, 'now, when it is too litte,' as pr or Cecilia t!ls herself, with a bitten pang. Yet the friendship of Cyril's mother is dear to her, and help* to lighten t>i.- dreaiy days that trust elapse before the news of her hustiaud's return to life is cir- cumstantially continued. They have all entreated tier to make the Cottage still her home, until such unwel.-ome news arrives. Colonel Train's friend has again written from 1'ussia, but without being able to aid another link to the. chain of evidence. " Ha had not seen Arlington since. He hsd chang- ed hisquartcrs, so they had miiwd, . '. .... can be traced, he goes on :" 'Her husband is j had had no opportunity aliv* ; h* i* coming home. After all,'- ' nim M to "' st*o>deiits with a short unlovely laugh, sad through its vory bitterness, 'we worrjd ourselves unnecMmri(" t ... as not, what we so leered, a widow. ' ' Cyril " exclaims Lilian : she is trembi TIMS' -examining but he himself ' . ! small dvibt he was the man they had so often discussed together. He heard he had gone South llirough Turkey, ireaoing to make his voyage home by sea ; he had 111*11 limed something about preferring that ing visibly, and gaies at him as though modr of travelling to any other. He could, fearing h* may have lost his senses. ">". ooju'y ascertain the exact tune he ' I would not have troubled you about meant to return to Kngland. and would let this matter,' continues Cyril, not heeding Trant know without delay," etc. the interruption, and addressing the room All tin* u tmmently unsatisfactory, and generally, without permitting himself to su*pene preying upon Cec.lia commits ter- look at any one, 'but that it is a fact that must be known sooner or latter ; I thought the sooner the better, as it will end your anxiety and convince yon that this metal liano* you, so dreaded, with a sneer, 'can never lake place.' (iuy, who has corns clo s to him, here lays his band upon hi* arm. ' Do uot apeak to us as though we could not feel for you,' he says gently, pain and remorse struggling in bis tone, ' behove uie ' But Cyril thrust* him back. ' I want neiihnr sympathy nor kind wurds now,' he say*, nercely; ' you failed me whnn I moat required them, when they might have made k'r happy. I have spoken on this subject uuw nnoa for all. From this moment let no one dare broach it to me again.' Guy is silent, repentant. No one speaks; the tears are running down Lilian's cheeks. 1 May nut I ?* she asks, in a distressed whisper. 'Oh, my dear! do not shut your- self up alone with your grief. Have I not been your friend ? Have not 1, too, loved her? poor dai ling! Cyril lei me speak to you of her sometimes. ' ' Not yet ; nor now,' replies he, in th* softest ton* he has yet used, a pleain of anguish Hashing across hia face. 'Ye*, you were always true to her, my good little Ijlian !' Then, sinking his voice, 'I am leaving hom, perhaps for years ; do not for sake her. Try to console, to comfort ' He breaks down hopelessly ; raising hsr hand to hit lips, hn kisses it fervently, and a second later bus left the room. Kor quite two minutes after the door has closod upon him, no one stirs.no one utters a word. (Iuy is still standing with down oast e>ss upon th* spot, that witnessed hn repulse, l.iliiui is crying. Lady Chetwoode is al :) dissolved in tears. It is this particu- lar moment I' loience uboosei to make the first remark that has passed her lips since Cyril's abrupt entrance. Could anything ho inure fortunate ?' she says, in a measured, congratulatory wtiy. *Could anything have happened moro op- portunely? Hei M ilin u >je inm.ttde mar- riage irretrievably prevented without uny trouble on our parts. I isally think we owe a debt of gratitude to this very unpleas- ant husbansl ' Tlorfuce, ' cries Lady Cheiwoode, with vehement reproach, stung to the ijni k, 'how can you Hue cause for rejoicing in the poor boy's misery? Do you not think of him?' After which she. subm.ie* again, with an audible soh, into her cambric. But Lilian is not so easily Mlisriod. 'How daro you spenk so '.'she. says, turn- ing upon Florence will, Met eyes that Hash fire through their tsars, 'V.i.i RID a cold anil heartless wo:n:tn. How should you uderstand what he is feeling, poor, poor ; Cyri' !' This ebullition i.t wruth sceim i > do her good Kneeling down by her aiiiitie, she places her arms round her, and In* another iionem comfortable cry upon her bosom. Florence draws herself up to her full height, whii'h is not Inoeniijirabls, ,t:i.l follow* her movement!) with slow aupernili ous wonder. She hall closes bur win 1 lids, snd lets her mouth tako a slightly disdainful curve, not too great a cuive, but just enough t. > b' .-.ml ,':: the proper disgust ni ; .. . n iem h- exhibition >< ill I r dnn; thai has juit taken pUc*. Bui ai neither Lilian nor l.i.iy (.'.< C*Q aaf> her, aud :u 'i,iy has pitn-d to the firr and is starim.' m' ' '" '!' ! expression <ii slim ,i.--i||>,' il upon hu hand" un |irc-*lltly flotts shs IK p mill' to H>. ' I a rutli. . v,ndi' rilile ravages upon both face and form. Her large eye* look at one full of a Milled mil- ano'ioly ; her cheek* grow mote hollow daily ; her once elastic ttep has grown si >w and fearful, aa though she dreads to over- take misfortune. Kveiy morning and even- ing, ua tha not hour dra ws nigh, she sn.Tcrs mental agony through her excessive fear of what a letter may reveal to her, sharper than any mere physical pain. Cyril has gone abroad ; twice Lilian has received a line from him, but of his move- ments or his feelings they know nothing I 'eeilia has maimgrtil to yet both these curt lette.-s into her poisesMon, and no doubt treasures them, and weeps over them, poor koul, a a stint might ovnr * rolic. Ar:hiiii'd, now almost rcoovered, has left tliem mluc:ant!y for change of air, in happy ignorance of the sad even's thai have Ix-en starting up amoi g them .unre his aooi- d.'nl, as all those aware of the ciroumstanc- es naturally shrink from spsaking o: them, n I show a united detire to prevent the unhappy stor/ from spreading further. 80 day succeeds day, until at length nutlets come to a crisis, and hopes and fears ar* at an end. CHAPTKR XXX The strong old winter is <!ead. He has died slowly, painfully, with many n daeper- .ito struggle, many a bird ruht. to reassert his power : but nownt. Imt he'ia'oly buried, piuhed out of sight by all the soft little armies of green leaves that h.i \ . risen up in battle against him. Above his gravn the sweet I rave young grasses are springing, the mynid flower* are bursting into fullor luaiity, llto bitds, not now in twovor Uire<'S, but in countless thousands, am "ij'ding moloilioualy among the as yet balf-opetimUenroii, ni.ikin< all the woods merry with Hun tender madrtgaU The whole laml is awaka and .utir, crying ' Wel.xime' tj> the dower crowned enring, aa *lin rliefl with winged fset over lleld, ami brojk, and iipl.tnd. It is'tliu lirst urerk in March, a wonder- fully soft, and lainl>-like March even >( this e.tny age of ils existaii.'e. Archibald has a<iin raturnad to Ciii'twoodo, stror.g and w>'ll, having (Men printed to do so by L*dy t'l.etwoode, wh'i lias by this lime brougnt heiself, most reluctantly, tobeli,-ve his presence necessary to Lilian's happi ness. Tati'y has also turned up quite unexpect- edly, which makiii hn wulcome p>rhip-, a dfgri'n mop"!ordial. luiloed, the amount of leave Mr. Mm;rve contrives to get, and the ftuornfnl manner in which ho reg-\r Is it, raise within the Ix>iioni8 of hii numerous friendo faelings of admiration the moat in leii'c. ' Now will yon tell me what is the rood of B.ving one a miser.iMe fortnight litre, ami a contemptible fortnight th*re' h ankf, pM.h>v.ic.il!y, in tones replete with unlimited disgust. ' Why can't they give a :ell< w ;t di: rout thr-e months al onee, urd lot hi. n enjoy himself? it's beastly , lint's what it is! keeping a man arindl|t| . hard duty morning, noun, and ' for H i* more than that in your case : it is oiutely fnniish,' relorti Mi-s Cliesney. ii'\. 'It ahnw-v an utter disregard their o\V'i peraonal ennifort. Your 1 AII'I !>! Inlf a one ; wtir.i 1 h.., I ihuiilcl jivo you six in nubs' leave twice M-jr, if only to :< ' rid if yon.' 1 '.V. b w'n rii.inra would 1 b ul your .Milini Mr. MiiV l >e. iipmed Arlington is expected to arrive ; and Colonel Tram, as nervous and pas*:onatsly aniious for Cecilia's sake as sbe can b* for her owa, has promised to meet it, to go on board, se* the man face to lace, so as to end all doubt, and telegraph install word of what he will learn. Lilian, alone of them all, clings wildly and obstinately t> the hope that this Arlington may cot he tSe Arlington; but sh* is the only on* who dares place faith in this bar- ren suggestion. At the Cottage, likeonedistracted, Cecilia has locked herself into her own room, and is pacing restlessly up and down th* apart- ment, a* though unable to sit, or know quiet until the dreaded morrow comes. At Chetwoode they are scarcely less un- easy. An air of impatient expectation per- vades the house. The very servant* (who, it u needless to say, know all about it, down to the very lightest detail) seem to walk on tiptoe, and wear solemnly ths de- jected expression they usually reserve for their pew in church. Lady Chetwoode has fretved herself into one of her bad headaches, and is quit* prostrate ; lying on her bed, she torments herself piling the agony ever higher, as she picturesCy ril's increased despair and misery should their worst fears be confirmed, forgetting that Cyril, being without hope, can no longer fear. Lilian, unable to work or read, wanders aimlessly through the house, hardly know- ing bow to hide her growing depression 'r^.r. her cousins, who alone remain quite ignorant of the impending trouble. Mr. Musgrave, indeed, is so utterly unaware nl the tragedy going on around him, that he chooses this particular day to b* especially lively, uot to say larky, and overpowers . Lilian with his attentions ; which so dis- tracts her that, watching her opportunity, shs finally effects her escape through the drawing-room window, and, running swift- ly through the plantations, turns in the direction of the wood. She eludes one cousin, however, only to throw herself into the arms of anothnr. Half-way to th* Cottage she meets Ar.-hi bald coming leisurely towards her. Take me fora walk,' he says, with hum- ble entreaty ; and Lilian, who as a rule is kind to every one except her guardian, tells him, afier an unflattering paus*, he may accompany her to such and such a distance, but no farther. ' I am going to '.be Collage,' shs says. 'To : 'h,. ij.iy of Hhalolt, this mys- i tenons Mariana m her moated grange?' asks Chesney, lightly. Odd as it may sound, he has never yet been face to face with Cecilia, Her deter- mined seclusion, and her habit of frequent- ing the parish churoh in the next village, which is but a short distance from her, has left her a stranger to almost every one in the neighborhood. Archibald is indeed aware that the Cottage owns a tenant, snd that her name is Arlington, but nothing more. The fact ol her never being named at I 'hetwoode ha* prevented' hi* asking any i lie ijuestions and thereby making any dis- coveries. When they have oome to the rising mound that half overlooks to* Cottage garden, Lilian comes to a stand-still. ' Now you mutt leave me,' she says, im- peratively. Why ? W'e ar* quite a day's journey from the Cottage yet. L*t me see you to the gate.' How tiresome ynu ar* V says Miss Chesney : 'just like a big baby, only not half so uice : you always want more than you ar.j promised.' As Cheeney makes no reply to this sally, she glances at him, and, following the di- rection of his eyes, sees Cecilia, who lias come out for a moment or two to breathe the sweet spring air, walking two and fro among the garden paths. Il u a very pal* and changed Cecilia upon whom th*y look. Why,' exclaims Chesney, in a tone of rapt surprise, ' surely that is Miss D'jncan !' 'No,' amazed, 'it is Mrs. Arlington, Sir Cuy's tenant.' ' True,' slowly, ' I believe shs did mar- ry that fellow afterwards. But I never knew her exoept as Miss Duncan.' ' You kniw hsr ?' ' Vory slightly,' still with his eyes fixed upon Cecilia, as she pace* mournfully up and down in the garden below them, with bent head and slow, languid movements. Once I spoke to her, but 1 knew her well by mght ; iditi wai, ihe i, one of thu loveli- est women I ever saw. Hut how changed shs is ! how altered, how white her face, ap- pear* ! or can it ha the distance makes me think so? I remember her such a merry girl almost a child when sh* married Arlington.' ' Yes ? She doe* not look merry now,' says Lilian, the warm tears rising in her eyes : ' poor darling, no wonder shs looks depressed !' \Vhy?' 'Oh,' ays Lilian, hesitating, 'some- thing about her husband, you know.' 1 \ on don't mean to say shs is wearing sackcloth and the willow and all that sort of thing ior Arlington all this time?* in a lone, of astonishment largily flavored with contempt. 'I knew him uncommonly well before lie married, and I should think his lew! h would have been a cause for rejoicing to his wile, abi-e all others.' ' Ah ! that i just it,' says Lilian, con sumed with a desire to tell : she sinks her voice mysteriously, and sighs a heavy sigh tinctured with melancholy. 'Just so,' unsympat helically. ' -Some ttonien, 1 believe, are hopeless idiot*.' ' They are no'.,' indignantly ; 'Cecilia is not An idiot ; she is miserable because he is anvo Now wnat do you think ?' ' Alivs " incredulously. ' Kxactly <o, with all the air of a tri umphant ia nut i'. 'And when she had believed him dead, too, for so long I I* r, n it hard upon her, poor thing ! to have him nine t. i lite, nyain so disagreeably without a word of warning? I really think it quiU 1 enough to kill her.' ' Well, 1 never : say i Mr. Chesney, staling at her. It isn't an elegant remark, but it is lull of animated surprise, and satisfies Lilian. ' !s it not a tragedy ?' she says, growing more and more piiiful every moment. ' Al was going on wt>U(il doesn't matter what, when suddenly someone wrote to Colono Trant to say he hid seen this odious Mr. Arlington alive and well in Russia, am' that he was nn his way home. I.shal always' viciously' hale the man who wrote i' "! would think he had nothing else to write about, stupid cieatuie Inn i it not shocking for her, poor thing '' At this, seemingly without rhyme or features, sb sweep* out of -tin! Ira'.vini: r)'it |iv> 'IT i.rn chamber, and ^J > lid sin, in. or U.u i< b::n){ing 10 Knglun Ithuirum To d ty ii 1 1; ', iv. T'i ni'irrnw, a ' i .' mi wurn her tnaslmuow , i , M.I, .,).! a depraved delight in other M to letrn herf its. To nvirrow tin; | p,..i|,'' .Millering",) Mr. I 'hmney bur a loud enjoyable laugh, and continues it for some seconds. Hs might perhaps have continued it until now, did not Lilian see it to wither his mirth in the bud. ' Is it a cause for laughter ?' she asks, rathfully ; 'but it is just like you ! I don't believe you have aa atom of feeling. Pos- itively I think yon would laugh if auntie, who is almost a mother to you, was dead !' 'No, I should not, 1 declares Archibald, subsiding from amusement to the very low- est depths of sulk : ' pardon me for contra- dicting you, but I should not even smile were Lady Chetwoode dead. .She is perhaps the one woman in the world whose death would cause me unutterable am row.' 'Then whv did you Uug'.ij list now !* Because if you had seen a man lie dead and had atiendod his Mineral, even yon might consider it a joke to hear be was alive sod well.' ' Yon saw him dead !' ' Yes, as dead ss Julius C<esar,' morosely. It so happened I knew him uncommonly well years ago: " birds of a feather,' you enow,' bitterly,' " flock together." ' We locked for a considerable time. Then I lost sight of him, and rather forgot all about inn than otherwise, until I met him again in Vienna, more than two years ago. i saw him stabbmi, I had been dining with him that night, and helped to carry him home ; it seemed a alight affair, and I left him in the lands of a very skilful physician, believing lim out of danger. Next morning, when I called, he was dead.' 'Archie,' in a low awe-struck whisper, -'is it all true ?' ' Perfectly true.' ' You could not by any possibility be mistaken ?' ' Not by any.' ' Then, Arohie,' says Lilian, ol*inuly, you are a darling !' ' Am 1 ?' grimly. ' I thought I was a demon who could laugh at the demise of his Mst friend.' N'onsenss ' tucking her hand genially beneath his arm , " I only said that out of vexation. Think as little about it as I do. [ know for a fact you are not half a bad y. Come now with me to the Cottage, : hat I may tell this extraordinary, this de- lightful story to Cecilia.' Is Cecilia Miss Duncan ?' No, Mrs. Arlington. Archie,' serious- ly, ' you are quit*, utterly sure you know all about it ?' Do you imagins I dreamt it ? Of course [am sure. But if jou think I am going iown there to endure hysterics, and be made damp with tears, you aro much mis- taken. I won't go, Lilian ; you needn't think it ; I I should b* afraid.' 'Console yourself ; I shan't require your assistance,' calmly ; ' I only want you to stay outside while I break thn good news to tier, lest sh should wish to ask you a ques- tion. I only hops, Archie, you are telling me the exact truth,' severely, 'that you are not drawing on your imagination, and that it was no other m%n of the same name yon saw lying dead ?' Perhaps it was,' replies he, hurhly, turn- ing away aa they reach the wicket gate. D > not i tir from where you are now,' says she, imperiously : ' I may want you at iv moment.' So Archibald, who does uot dare disobey her command', strays idly up and down uiiisidethe hedge, awaiting his summons. It is rather long incoming, so that his small stock of patience is nearly exhausted when he receives a message begging him to coma in-doors. As he enters the drawing room, however, he is so struck with compassion at the sight of Cecilia's large, half-frightened eyes turn- ed upon him that be lose] ail hi* ill humor and grows full of sympathy. She is very unlike the happy Cecilia of a month ago, still more unlike the calm dignified Cecilia who tint catr.e to Cbetwoodc. She is pal* a* the early blossoms that lie here and to place credence in it. Chesney confess* to some sensations of shame. 'Somehow,' he says, 'it never occurred to me your tenant might be Janper Arling- ton's wife and the pretty Miss Duncan who tor* my heart into fritter* some years ago. And I knew nothing of all this terrible story about her husband's su) posed resus- citation until to-day. It is a "comedy of errors." I fesl inclined to sink into th* ground when I remember how I hav* walk- ed about her* among yon all, with full proof of what wo-ild have set yen all at rest in no time, carefully locked up in my breast. Although innocent. Lady Chet- woode, I feel I ought to apologize.' 'I shall go down andmslko her come up to Chetwojde/ says her ladyship, warmly. 'Poor girl ! it is far too lonely for her to b* down there by herself, especially just now when she must be so unstrung. As soon as I hear she has Had that letter from George Trant, I shall persuade her to come to us.' The tictt evening brings a latter from Trant that falls like a little wsrsa seal of certainty upon the good news of yesterday. 'Going- down .o the landing- place, writes he, 'I found th* steamer had really arrived, and went on board instantly. With my heart beating to suffocation I walked up to the captain, and askei him if any gentleman named Arlington had come home with him. He said " Yes, be was hero just now, " and looking round, pointed to a tall man bending over soms luggage.. " There h* il." he said. I went if to the tall man. I could see he was of a good height, and that his hair was black. As I noted this last fact my blood froze in my veins. When I was quite closs to him lie raised himself, turned, and looked full at me ! And once more my blood ran warmly, oomforUably. It was not th* man I had feared to se*. I drew my breath .juickly.aud tomake assuran.-e doubly sure, determined to aak his nams. ' " Sir," I said, bluntly, forgetful of eti. quette, "is your name Arlington '" ' " Sir," replied be, regarding me with calm surprise " it is." At this moment I con- fuss I lost my heed. I bream* once more eighteen, and impulsive. I grasped his hands ; I wrung them affectionately, not to say violently. ' " Then, my dear sir," I *iclaim*d,rapt- urously, " low* you a debt of gratitude. I thank you jrith all my heart. Had you not been bom an Arlington, I might now be one of the nost miserable men alive ; as it is I am one of the happiest." ' My new friend started. Then he gave way to an irrepressible laugh, and shrug- ged his shoulders expressively. ' "My good fellow," said he, "be reason- able. Take yourself back to the excellent asylum from which you have escaped, and don't maks further fuss about it. With your genial disposition yon ar* sure to b* caught." 'At this I thought it better to offer him some slight explanation, which so amused j him that he insisted on carrying me off with him to his hotel, where we dined, aad where I found him a very excellent fellow indeed. ' ID this wise runs his letter. Cecilia reads it until eauh comforting assertion is shrined within her heart and doubt is no longer possible. Then an intense gratitude fills her whole being ; her eyes grow dim with tears ; clasping her hands earnestly, she falls upon tier knees. (TO HE t OM-IM ro.) The turf employs 20,000 St. Peter's, Rome, costs $.10,300 a year for repairs. Williamspor,, IV, will tax "fir* " sal* $1,00*) a month. ...... -... j Four time* more Irishmen res.de m the there in soft wanton luxuriance upon hsr United States than Englishmen, tables ; her whole face is eager and exoect- Slie is trembling perceptibly "' ant. She is trembling perceptibly Irom head to foot. ' 'A hat ia it you would tell me, sir ?' shs asks, with deep entreaty. It is as though she longt yet fears to believe. 1 I would tell you, madam,' replies Chesney, respect and pity in his tone, tak- ing and holding the hand she extends to him, while Lilian retains ths other and watches her anxiously, ' that fears are groundless. A moat gross mistake has, I understand, caused you extreme uneasi- ness. I would havs you dismiss this trouble from your mind. I happened to know Jaspsr Arlington well : I was at Vienna the year he was there , we met often. I wilnessed th? impromptu duel that caused hia death ; I saw him stabbed ; I myself hslped to carry him to his rooms ; nsxt morning he was dead. Forgive me, madam, that I speak so brusquely. It is best, 1 think, to be plain, to mention bare facts.' Her* he pauses, and Ceoilia's breath comes quickly ; involuntarily her fingers close round his ; a question shs hardly dares to ask trembles on her lips. Archibald reads it in the silent agony el her eyes. ' I saw him dead," he says, softly, and is rewarded by a grateful glance from Lilian. Cecilia's eyes close ; a dry, painful sob oomes from between her pallid lips. ' She will faint,' cries Lilian, placiug her arms round her. ' No. I shall not.' By a great effort Cecil- ia overcomes the insensibility fsat creeping over her. 'Thank you, sir,' she says to Archibald : ' Your words sound liks truth ; I would I dared believe them ! but I have been so often '' she stops, half choked with emotion. ' What must you think me but inhuman?' she says sobbing!)-. 'All women except me mourn their husdand's death : I mourn, in that I fear him living.' Madam,' replies Archibald, scarce- ly knowing what to say, ' I Uo knew Jasper Arlington ; for mo there- tun., it would be impossible to judge you harshly in this matter. Were you, or any other living soul, to protend regret for him, pardon me if I say 1 should deem you a hypocrite.' ' Yon must believe what he ha* told you,' says Lilian, emphatically : ' it admits of no denial. But to morrow at a 1 events will bring you nsws from Colonel Traut that will compel you to acknowledge its truth. ' ' Yes, yes. Uh that to-morrow was here!' murmur* Cecilia, faintly. And Lilian un- derstands that uot until Tram's letter is within her hands will she allow herself to enfrt-tln hope. Silently Lilian embraces her, and sh* and Archibald return home. .**. At Cheiwoode very intense relief and oleaaure are felt as Lilian relates hsr wen d rful story.. Kvery one is only too willing During the complicated process of manu- facturing stamp* they are counted eleven times in order t > guard against pilfering. It is estimated that 119,000,000 copper pennies have b**n lost to circulation in th* century since the United Stales began t* coin money. The pastor of the Kaptist church at Ukiah, ( 'al., has been asked to resign for prophesying that the end of the world will take place before th* clou* of the present There is a churoh at Kirkwood, Us., owned by Presbyterisns, with a Metho- dist pastor, and the seats were originally owned by Baptists and donated by Episco- palians. More dogs go mad in cold weather than in hot, as shown by statistics. Canada and all Northern countries show a large amount of oases, while in Indtsi and Africa the discs** is exceptional. .,, Anent (kefchance of death in war, s> car* fully deducted calculation at the bsvtth o Soltrrino, a bloody aajgajzement, shows tba 700 billets wore expended for every ma wounded aud 4,'JUU for each man killed. In California it U found that peach- stones burn as well as th* best coal and give out more heat in proportion to weight. The stone* taken out of the fruit that is tinned or dried are collect eti and sc Id at the rate of $15 a ton. I'rofeas'irships of " folk music " are lobe established in some Russian universities by the (foverument. The patriotic object is to preserve th* characteristic native song*. ot the country, rescuing very many from threatened oblivion. On one of the islands of the coast *l Maine lives a man now 50 yean, old, wh*> was born thsre. aud baa never been off th* idami. He has accumulated a fortune in the grocery business, and is content to live and die on the few ssagirt acres. Between the ages of '20 and 40 prisoner* die of consumption much more rapidly than people outside of confinement, but whether this is owing to the confinement, or to the previous lives of the convicts, it is not clear. Few criminals of any kiud liv* to be eld men. I Th* anchor* of the new Cunard vestei Campauia weigh s.J tan* each. They have been tested to bear a strain of I'JO tons. Th* . weight ol the cables and anchors together amounts to about 108 tons. Th Chinese aro shown by statistics to bo longer lived than any other intim, which fact is attributable to their abstemious habits and their remarkable freedom from phthisis, or pulmonary consumption. | The total number of mn it e iu Kngl i4 , and Wales increases by 1,7'Kj a year. Fii- teen thousand people go mad every year, an I five out of every It), 000 peopU alive in ihi* country enter an asylum as inmates during the year.