The mountain Democrat., 1864-05-14

his horse, sprang to the ground, stopped,
and then, holding up pocket book, cried
-" Look here, Miss Morton" L5:A.S0oG
in considerable amazement, as had dis.
tinctly seen him draw the pocket book
from bis bosom, put it on the ground and
then take 1t up again. NV father riding
up, asked what was the matter. William
exhibited the pocket-boOk, saying he had
just picked it up. My father advised him
to open 1t and see ifthe name of the own.
er was inside. He complied, and they
examined it together. There was no
name. The book contained roll of bank
notes; and William, observing that they
must advertise it, put it in his pocket
You will wonder that all this time con
tinued silent. But remember how young
| was, and how shy. Besides, had not
the slightest idea what it could all mean
that there was a mystery-a secret
! which Deloraine wished to veil under this
apparent trouvaille, believed, and since
he had not intended to take me into his
confidence, | fancied it would be dishou.
orable to betray him. For his part he
had not noticed my silence, but remount
ing. began to chat gaily on Indifferent
subjects, and was even more than usually
fascinating and attractive.
a few days after wards ar advertisement
appeared in the local papers stating that
a gentleman had found pocket book on
Il Hill, containing bank notes, and
that they would be restored to the owner
on application, provided he could describe
the contents Of the book, and tell the
number of the notes. This advertisement
appeared daily during the remainder of
our stay at the seaside. My father re-
marked that Delorane'S honesty put him
to great expense, ard that it was singu-
lar that no one claimed the pocket book !;
then we took no further notice of the mat.
ter, though secretly wondered what it
could mean.
Once more before we left our sea. side
home, Deloraine urged me to become his
wife secretly. He was sure, he said, that
ny father would forgive me when once
We were married; and also should have
been sure Of that; indeed, believed he
would not have refused his assent at all,
although Deloraine was, as he avowed,
poor for | was rich Welsh heiress, as
you know. However, my lover was as
strangely timd as | was confident in my
beloved fathers goodness and would
have me keep his secret, and wait. Thus
we ,arted without any engagement hav-
ing been made between us.
found my home in the Welsh valleys
dismal enough when | returned to it
| missed the animation of the bathing
place; the society of bonny Kate; tho
sentimental devotion of her brother. -
Without excitement, without employ
ment, grew weary Of my dull existence,
and called my ennui disappointed love-
After all, my dear, ii the busy young la.
dies Of this part Of the country don't do
much real good for others, they do some.
thing for themselves in keeping their
minds employed. 1t is astonishing how
much foolish love imaginings are thus
kept in check. As for me, gave way to
the vaincSt regrets and the most profit
less day-drcaming. cast from me Gods
great gift of time slnfully, reckles>ly-
my sole occupation being that of writing
long letters to Kate, which she rarely an
Swcrcd. But one cannot be idle and dis
contentcl with impunity. | was natu-
rally delicate, and began to pay for my
vain imaginings the tax OF loss of health
and good looks. My poor father was
alarmed for me. He called in physician,
and as the doctor could not detect the
real cause Of my lassitude, he judciouSly
baniShed me, and sent me again to the
seaside. We had only been absent from
it five months. 1t was March (close to
the asSlzc time) when We again took pos.
session Of our former lodgings; but much
had happened during that period to "star.
tie" the place from its propriety." My
maid came to undress me the night Of our
arrival, quite eager to communicate her
news.
'Oh, ma'am,' she cried, you remem.
Der the Miss Deloraine you used to ride
with when We were last here, and her
brother!'
'of course l replied, with beating
heart. What Of them?'
We'll, ma'am, they say Mr.. William is
taken up for forgery, and will be hanged
| nearly tainted; but my pride upheld
me in my servants presence.
What nonsense l said; how can
you repeat such idle scandalI
Well, | don't believe it, of course;
but the poor gentleman is in prison at
A on the charge. They say that no
end Of forged notes have been passed
here, and all have been traced back to
Mr.. Deloraine, his servant, or the ladies'
| was horror struck. | did not believe
it; yet doubted. | had not heard from
Kate for long time, and surely there
must be some ground Of suspicion to
cause Williams detention in prison, if he
were really there. When saw my IA
ther next morning, told him Sarah's
tale. lie was greatly astonished, and de-
clarcd he would ascertain its truth by ri.
ding over to A after breakfast.
How long, how miserable the hours
were till he returned But he came with
a bright face: his heart relieved from a
load Of kind anxiety.
1t is quite true that the poor lad is in
prison, he said, in reply to my eager in
quires; but by mere accident. You
remember his finding q pocket book p
Well, he was so mprudent-bei press.
ed for money, he says-as to use some of
those notes, intending to keep the mum,
bers, and return the amount he spent, if
they were ever claimed but they proved
to be forged and he has been taken up
for passing them. He had actually di.
rected his lawyer to appeal to us as wit
neSSes Of the manner in which he obtain
ed them, and the latter is gone TO Bryn
Gcllert'
My heart ceased beating for the mo.
ment as l remembered how | had seen
Deloraine take the book from his own
bosom; but | was quite silent. Between
horror and fear could not speak.
My father continued: