The daily phoenix. [volume] (Columbia, S.C.) 1865-1878, 1865-08-23

day and on Thursday, when her sore
throat was SO bad that she could not
20 out with me-. :" ~.
eyes, sir, replied she, s:it was the
same two."
emily jane" said I, solemn1y,
''always tell the truth. I know all.
Where is your mistress gone to Ill by
herself to-day, with her hair SO neatly
arranged, and a flower stuck i'll the
left side of her head? and that after
telling me she was too busy to move
out. Concealment is worse than use
less. Where is she?"
''Wild horses shouldn't do it," re-
turned the domestic resolutely. "I
told her I would keep it dark, and I
won't bctray no confidence as has been
reposed in me You must find it out
all of your own head, sir. o dear, o
dear!"
Here, to, my confusion, Emily Jane
cast her apron, by q sudden and dex-
trous movement, over her features,
and in that blinded condition rushed
down the kitchen stairs like bull
strng by bees.
At that moment the front door bell
rang with violence such as none of our
visitors except the captain dare to use.
My wretched heart seemed to expert
ence little throb of Joy. He at least
then-and I confess my suspicious had
been turned in his direction, for wa,
it not his profession to guard us from
foreign foes, and to destroy our do
mestic peacc-he at least. I say, unless
there was more than one-I dared not
trust myself to finish the reflection,
but opened the front door with my
own hands.
1t was somebody in uniform, but
not the captain. Telegraph for Mrs.
r. squcaked the boy in his shr;E,
thin voice; please to sign on the
right and side" Then dancing Il
double shuttle upon the door step, in
order to keep himself warm, he broke
forth into b&t];;d, "There's somebody
in the house with Dinah, there s
somebody in the house l ",uor; there's
somebody in the honse with Diaah"-
I didn't like this i,npudence, and I
didn't like his song, but there was
nothing for it but to submit. What
could Anna Maria he doing with tele-
graphs? s'From Rupert Mrrrington.
6 Cupidon Villas, st. Johns Wood.
Pray be punctual this time, am en-
gagged until twelve. trust you will
be looking Your best, not pale, lis Oh
Monday and Thursday"
s'There's somebody in the house
with Dinah, there's somebody in the
house Ihno7o"-I rushed out with the
receipt in my hand, and the boy
snatched it and took to flight, for he
saw that I was dangerous. What
could this dreadful message mean? or
rather what moaning could it have but
one? Rupert Merrington! not at all a
steady sounding name, to begin with
the sender, too, was evidently no busi-
ness man, or he would have not eX-
ceeded his twenty words SO foolishly.
It had q military smack all over. (and
didn't like that notion-a military
smackY Merrington, OF course, Wa;
an assumed name. The handwriting
was good, and so far unlike the cap
tain's but then people don't write
their own telegraph messages. l felt
that some immediate action was ne
cessary, or that should be sunntocatcd
In a couple of minutes I was in /
Hanson, bound for Cupidon villas, il
q state of mind easier imagined thar
described; and yet I had often real
descriptions of it in novels which pro
fessed to describe aristocratic life. nnt
often had seen upon the stage (al
though principally in farces) the hus
band racked by jealous pangs.
What had there been to laugh at il
that, I wondered now. Why SHOULD
the tcndercst emotions of the hear
be made the subject of buffoon? Blu
what a wicked looking set of house
were those which [ was now passing
If bricks and mortar, and especial
stucco, can look vicious, certainly 81
Johns Wood possesses pattern, tor
What number, sir?" shouted m.
, driver tbrouuI tho hole in the 1Oo1