The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1887-07-23 00:00:00

METROPOLITAN cATTLm.

The cattle trade has been very quiet. There has beei_
want of animation in the „demand for all descriptions o.
stock. The first arrivals of beass were moderate, awl
quite sufficient for the derrand, which was at no timo
strong. Some fine Herefords made 4s 4d per 81b, but as a
rule the top price for shorthorns did not exceed 4s per
81b. Foreign beasts were in moderate supply and quiet
request at late currencies. The sheep pens were fairly we'd
filled; the demand was limited. Choice fist Downs sheep
made Is 2d, and lrst half-bred 4s 8d per 81b. lambs were
quiet at Is 6d to Cs per Sib. Calves and pigs sold at abo•it
late rates. Coarse and inferior beasts, 38 Od to 3s 6d ;
second quality ditto, 8s 6d to 3s 8d ; prime large oxen,
3s 10d to 4s Od ; ditto Scots, &c, 48 Od to 4s (Id; coarse
and inferior sheep, fis gd to 4g Cd ; second quality ditto,
48 Od to 4s 6d; prime coarse - woolled ditto, 41 8d to
6s ; prime Southdown ditto, 58 Od to 58 2d; lambs,
5813 d to es Od ; largo coarse calves, 36 Od to Is 10d; prim
ditto, 4s Od to 4s Ed ; large hogs, 2s 4d to 3s
and neat small ;
porkers, 88 2d to 34 8d per 81b to sink
small e
the offal. .

METROPOLITAN MEAT MARKET.
The supply of mutton was shorter, and ths trade was
better, at Year rates. There was also a smaller quantity
of Scotch beet in the market; the demand, however, was
very limited, and the advance in prices nominll, the
number alive being larger at Islii,gton, Dept or:, and
Liverpool. The market was well supplied with I iverpo
sides, but were not in very great demand. QuotAtioas—
Inferior beef, is 8d to 2s 4d ,• middling ditto, 2s 4
to 38 Od ; prime ditto, 38 4d to 3s 8d ; Scotch ditto,
3s 6d to 39 lid; American, Liverpool killed, 3s 4' to
Bs 6d ; ditto killed, hind quarters, is 81 to 4s Od ditto,
ditto, fore Quarters, Is 4d to la 8d ; English veal, Re 41 to
4s ; Dutch ditto, 2s 4/1 to Rs 4d ; inferior mutton. 29 R I
to 39 4d; middling ditto, 3s 8d to 4s 4d' prime ditto, 4+ 4d
to 4s 8'; Scotch ditto, 59 Od to 5s '4d: New Zcal.,,,t,
ditto, 2s 6cl to 2s Bd. lamb, is 0,1 to 5s 8d ; large p)rk.
2s Rd to 3s 4d; small ditto, is 6d to 43.0 d per 81b by tne
carcase.

FISH.
Very short supply and moderate demand. Prices, whole-
sale :—Scotch salmon, is per lb; Norwegian salmon, 9d p
lb ; prase, 9(1 per lb; salmon trout, is 21 per lb ;
95 per stone; soles, £4 lOs per box; cod, is each; plaice,
LOs per box; brill, 7s per stone; mackerel, 13s per lox;
whiting, 8s per box; fresh haddocks 15s per box; dried
haddoc s, 4s to es per dozen; whitebait, is 3d per quart ;
live eels, 22s per draft; lobsters, 25s per score • cabs, Ps
per pad • crayfish, is 3d per dozen; crawfish. is 6cl each ;
kippers, per round; prawns, 8s per lb ; shrimps, Is and
2s per gallon. Retail - Scotch salmon, Is 2d per lb; Nor.
weeian ditto, lid per lb ; 19(1 per lb; salmot trout,
is 4d per lb ; turbot. I, per ; soles, Is Ed rer lb ;e,
4d per lb ; plaice, Oil to 2s each; brill, 8d per 15; mackerel,
4d a d6d each; whiting, 6d each; fresh haddocks, 4 I per
lb; dried haddocks, 4d to is each; whitebait. Is 94 per
gasrt ; live eels, is 441 per lb; lobsters, is tc 2s Cd each;
crabs, is to is each •, crayfish, Is 9d per dozen; crawfisi., 9s
each; kippers, is ed per dozen; Dieby chicks, 6cl to is
per dozen; shrimps, 4d and ed per pint; and winkles, 4.1
per quart,
POTATO.

There was a mod -rate anpply of potatoes on sale. The
trade was steady, at the annexed rates: Essex kidneys,
7s to Os; Jersey ditto, Os to La; ditto, round. 8e to Dia:
Cherbourg round, 8s to us per cwt.

r. •
•

NOBLER THAN REVENGE.

BY THE
Author of" The Heiress of Atherstone Grange."

CHAPTER XIL
GOOD BYE, SWEETHEART.
'Farewell, a word that must be, and hath been—
A sound which makes us linger—yet, farewell.'
--BYnoN.
Tree two who were most interested wondered a little
perhaps that the rest of the household did not guess
the secret that made Helen somewhat grave, and pretty
Midge her old self again. It seemed to Miss Ramsay
that everyone must be aware of what she and Frank
hail agreed upon, and to Madge, as if her mother and
sister ould nct help knowing what had befallen her
to make the world such a paradise all of a sudden.
No me suspected. Norah was really glad to see
liage so much better. It was very des."essing to
'lave hr moping and always low-spirited, and she
was very fond of her sister, and alarmed about her,
and it was like a gleam of sunshine to have her looking
and moving about like her old self again.
You'd never be ill if you knew how miserable it
makes us all c 5 ild,' she said when they had retired to
their own room, If you only knew how different
the house seemed when we came in and heard you
singin , you would never have the mopes again.'
I won't,' Madge replied, with her old smile that
had been so rare of late. 'Never, never, never; I've
done with moping., Norah, for all time.'
That's good hearing, dear. But what has made the
difference?' Has anything happened?'
Nothing. What was to happen?'
I'm sure I don't know. Has anyone been here? I
thought perhaps Mr. Clayford might have been read-
ing you a lecture on the enormity of giving way to
listlessness and so forth. He told mamma that you
cught to be roused.'
Did ho? lam very much obliged to him. I wish
he'd mind his own business.'
Madge!'
'Well I do. He's always interfering with what
does not concern him. He hasn't been here, I'm
thankful to say.'
Norah stared at her sister in amazement. Such rank
blasphemy against their idolised clergyman made her
d, übt the evidence of her own ears.

' My dear Madge, what has come to you ?'she asked.
How has Mr. Gaylord offended you?'
Ile hasn't offended me at all. But I wish ho would
mind his own business, that's all. What does he want
me roused for? What is it to him?'
What it is to all of us, I suspect,' Norah said with
a smile. Never mind. Something has roused you
that's very evident. I should like to know what
it is.' _ _ _

'lt's the thought of going to the seaside—to dear,
di lightful Scarborough,' Madge said; 'of getting
away from everybody we see here. I think I have
only been bored after all. I don't believe there was
the least little bit of anything else the matter with
me. It's all gone now we are going away.'
'You must have been very much bored indeed,' Norah
said, wondering at her sister's queer mood. 'But we
shan't get away from everybody. Mr. Gayford told
mamma this evening that he should take a holiday
most hkely, and run down to see us, and Mr. Hather-
le'gh will be sure to come. I suppose he was here
to•day ?'
Oh, yes, he was here,' Madge said, with her face
hidden by the lid of a box ottoman into which she
had suddenly found occasion to dive. 'He and Helen
had quite a long talk together.'
' Ab, I suppese they are settling their worldly affairs.
What a qurer thing it must be to have been given
away like that, and to know for so many years what
was before them. They will be quite like Darby and
Joan before they are man and wife at all.
Madge's only answer was a grunt. She was pre-
paring herself as quickly as possible for bed; while
Norah lingered at the window, as she often did, with
the door of communication betw•en their rooms open
so that she could talk to her sister.
Did you see him?' Norah asked presently; and
Madge replied from her couch in the corner.
"Oh, yes, I saw him.' Nothing could have been
more indifferent than her tone, and Norah went on;
Frank's name had evidently started a train of thought
in her mind.
I'm glad the affair is coming off soon.'
Why, dear?'
'For your sake, Madge. I used to think that Frank
—that is Mr. Hatherleigh—was rather inclined to flirt
with you. I don't mean anything wrong,' as Madge
gave an indignant fling and bounce that made her
sister smile; but it might have made Helen uncom-
fortable if he had persisted in it, and—'
And you may set your heart at rest on that score
now and for ever,' Madge exclaimed, her eyes flashing, if
her sister could only have seen them, with an energy
very unusual with her. Mr. Hatherleigh never had the
slightest intentlon of flirting with me nor I with him;
he is a gentlemen.'
And you are a lady—and a fiery little puss into
the bargain. Child, what have I said to make you
fire up so? Gentlemen do flirt with pretty
,girls
whether they aro engaged or not, and plenty of mis-
chief is worked by it. I only say lam glad that our
Madge will he safe from all that sort of thing when
once Helen is married. Has she said anything to you
about the dresses? She has been very lukewarm on
the subject so far, and it is time we saw about ours.
I suppose we are to be bridesmaids, and the Jarvis
girls, if their mother will allow it.'
There was no answer now. Madge was under the
bed-clothes, with her head covered up. She could not
trust herself to any conversation with her sister on
such a topic, with her heart throbbing as it did with
her new-found happiness. She dared not speak lest
she shou'd betray herself, and tell Norah that the
wedding she spoke of would never be—that when
Frank Hatherleigh stood at the altar with his bride
it would not be Helen Ramsay, but herself. She must
keep the secret for awhile, till Helen had spoken to
Mr. Jarvis, and then—ah, what then? Would any-
thing stand in the way? She could not think there
would. Frank was well-to-do and a gentleman, and
there would be nothing mamma could possibly object
to, nor Mr. Jarvis either. She had not tried to win
him away from Helen—she would have been very un-
happy if the marriage had come to pass, perhaps she
would have died. Girls did die of wich things, and
she had felt very like it lately. But her conscience
would have been clear.
She heard Norah talking on about the wedding
dresses, and saying something about their being fair,
and the other girls who would be brid, 'maids for the
most part dark—and in the midst of - all she fell
asleep and dreamed of Frank and the Orange new
happiness that had come into her life.
What has come to her?' Norah said to herself, as
she watched the happy smile on Madge's sleeping face.
'I must have been mistaken when I thought she was
giving her heart away where there could be no gift in
return. I fancied at one time that she thought too
much of Frank Hatherleigh. It was fancy, or she
could never have spoken of him as she did just now.
Never flirted with her, didn't he? I never saw flirt-
ing if he did not; and I was afraid there was more
hehind it. I shall get at it some day, perhaps. But
there has been more in Madge's illness than mere
debility from natural causes, and I am truly thankful
;hat the wedding is to be so soon and Mr. Frank
Hatherleigh going away from Hillford ; he has been
too much here.
Madge had regained her courage and self-posseasiox
a little by the morning, and was able to get up and
face Norah and her questions and remarks with
tolerable equanimity. She longed to burst out with
her secret, and tell her sister all about it; but both
Frank and Helen wished for secrecy for the present,
and she would be very careful. It seemed something
too good to be true to wake up and see the sun
shining., and not wish that the weary day was over,
as she had got into the way of doing lately.
She could hardly believe in her own bliss, or realise
that it was not all some blissful dream, from which
she should waken to find Frank and Helen still going
to be married, and herself the most miserable girl in
all the wide earth. She was so radient while she
was dressi nee that Norah remarked again on her bright-
ness.
I think Helen and you have changed places,' she
said, making Madge's heart leg) with a sudden spasm
of terror, her words were so pointedly true. Some-
thing was the matter with her last night.'
I know one thing that is the matter with her,'
Madge said composedly, her face hidden by her
luxuriant hair.

What is it?'
'She is afraid of Mr. Gayford:
'Afraid of him
Yes.'

Why?'
'I don't know, unless it is what makeo me afraid of
him; he seems to be able to read one's very thoughts.
, I am sure last night he—'
'He what?' asked Norah, as Madge suddenly
stopped.
'He nearly made me te'l him something I would
rather keep to myself,' was Madge's saucy answer;
and Ncrah smneliow came to the conclusion that it
would be as well to leave her sister &one till she
chose to explain what had come over her and cared
her in such a mysterious fashion.
There was a little change in Helen's manner when
they all met at breakfast the next morning, an
indefinable something that struck them all, but which
they could not understand. They all wondered, when
they came to know what had happened, that they had
not guessed at something of the sort. Her smile was
as ready aq ever, and her voice as cheerful, and there
were no traces of tears or any agitation--and yet
there was a certain vague presence of regret or sorrow
that seemed to bok out of her eyes and ring in her
voice.
Asked if she expected Frank, she replied instantly
and with a smile tint she did. He was to be in Hill-
lord that afternoon; he was going to receive some
money which had fallen to him through the death of a
I riend.
a fortune,' Helen said; only a small legacy—
he knew nothing about it till he had a letter from Mr.
Jarvis yesterday morning. He will come here for a
cup of tea if you will give him one, Mrs. Churchill.'
My dear, he shall have a dozen if he wants them,'
the kindly lady said. We are always glad to see
him.'
Madge caught herself blusting furiously at the
reehtlou of Frank's name; she bent over her cup and
saucer, but the tell-tale red would come into her face,
and she conscious, to her dismay, that Norah was
watching her. and finding out all that was in her

heart throuili her foolishness, and she could not help
it, and was ready to cry at her own stupidity. Helen
came to the rescue, and carried her off to her own
pretty room out of way of questioning and worry.
'You little goose,' she said, when they were alone.
'Do you want all Hillford to know?'
No,' replied Madge. guiltily.
Then don't blush whenever Frank's name is
mentioned or they will guess. Stay here with me
this morning, and I'll keep Norah from talking to you
about it. She suspects.
'Oh, Helen!'
She does; I saw it in her eyes at breakfast. Never
mind, Madge, it will soon be over. Keep your secret
and mine, dear, till we are away, and then it can
come out as soon as you like.'
The afternoon brought Frank, and set Madge's foolish
little heart in a flutter that well-nigh betrayed her.
But she managed to greet him with outward calmness
at least, and vanished into her own room, while he
went to Helen in the garden, and talked to her and
told her that he had been to Mr. Jarvis.
I could not rest till I had told him, Fairy, he said,
looking in her face somewhat sadly. 'lt was better
to get. the plunge into cold water over at once.'

6-What did he say, Frank?'
'Not much, dear. Ah ! I have no right to talk to
you like that now. I shall learn in time.'
'You have a right to talk to your sister how you
please. Remember that always. Well?'
told him we both thought it would not be for
our happiness to marry, and that I would never have
said a word but that you were of the same mind as
myself. I said I had done nothing dishonourable,
and-'

You need hardly have told him that, Frank. Ile
knew it, I_am sure.' _ _ .

'He said so. He said my father's son would not;
and he has promised to be my friend still, and he is
going to come here and hear what you have got to say
for yourself, and—and—he's the best fellow that ever
walked the earth.' And Frank hid his face for a
moment, and dashed away the tears that would rise
to his eyes in spite of himself.
Then, that's all well over,' Helen said. Did you
tell him anything about Madge, dear Frank?'
Not yet. I could not. I have said nothing to
Madge herself.'
No, but I have.'
'You?'

Yes. I propose to take quite a motherly interest
In you, and she has recovered wonderfully since last
night, Frank.' And Helen smiled through the tears
that were standing on her eyelids.
You are the best girl that ever lived,' he said,
passionately. 'Where is she?'
Upstairs. I will bring her to you. But you must
take care, mind. It is to be a strictly clandestine
affair till after we get away. I can go away some-
where else for a while, if it hasn't blown over by tha
time our month at Scarborough is at an end. lam
not going to be wondered over, I can tell you.'
They were in the garden, under Madge's windcw,
and Helen softly called up.
'Madge, dear, come down,' she said; and Madge
showed a blushing face at the window, and presently
ran down and joined them.
Norah, your suspicions are nonsense,' Mrs.
Churchill said to her eldest daughter, as she watched
the three. 'Whatever has brightened Madge so
w3nderfully, it is nothing to do with Mr. Hatherleigh ;
she would not be so unconcerned with him if it were.'
Unconcerned! Poor Madge's heart was beating
so she could hardly stand, as she joined Helen and
Frank. Her mother, from the window could not see
that her eyes were full of tears, and her red lips
quivering with the agitation she vainly tried to
repress. She only saw that her daughter joined the
other two, and walked beside them as they all dis-
appeared into the shrubbery.
Here she is, Frank,' Helen said, when she knew they
out of sight of the house. 'My gift to you, remember
that, and prize her as you should. Nay, never cry,
dear Madge; there is no harm; things have only
righted themselves before it was too late, and I am
thankful that it is so.'

She turned away as she spoke, and Frank folded
Madge in his arms, and kissed her with a heart too
full for words for a moment or two.

Don't be afraid of me, dear Madge,' he said, after a
pause. 'There is nothing to come between us now.'
'Oh, but it seems so wicked,' the girl replied, look-
ing half frightened at his vehemence, so unkind to
Helen. . .

'Helen gave you to me, remember that,' he said.
'You will understand it all better by-and-by. She is
a noble creature, and I love her dearly; but not as a
man should love the woman he takes for his wife.
You are that woman for me. Lift up your sweet face
and say, "Frank, I love you."'
She said it without words. She lifted up her face
and let him kiss her, and then nestled to his heart as
if she had found her true resting-place. Not for long.
It was Helen who leaned on his arm when they went
in-doors to the tea that Mrs. Churchill had promised
him, and it was to the others that he told them what
he was going to do.
'I have to be at Mr. Simpson's by six,' he said,
and after that lam going over the river. There's a
man on the other side has a dog I want to see, and I
shall go back to town from Beechcroft Station.'
He waved a farewell to them all as ho went out of
the gate, and so passed away out of their sight behind
the roses that sent in whiffs of their sweet breath with
every wave of the soft breeze that was just stirring
the tree tops.
(To be continued.)