The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1868-11-21

ing HOW uetr Sic WIS 10 MN, HUI colne
to hope for time when l should supplant
him in her care and love. I knew that l
was welcome in the household lit consisted
but of himself and herr, and left the rest
to time and constancy- AS matters stood,
l was too poor to marry, until the discove-
ry of the five hundred pound note Weakened
a hope which determined should only be
realized according to tho dictates of strict
honesty.
At nine o'clock on the morning after the
discovery, old Graham appeared at his
desk, punctral as St. Paul's. I entered
into careless conversation, and at last
preached the subject of the payment to
Wylde.
"You have been in the Office long time,
Mr.. Graham" said edo you happen to
remember y man who used to come about
here named, if remember right, Wylde,
William Wyldc 9''
| He turned cadaverous color, and his
| fingers wandered aimlessly to his scanty
gray hair.
"What-what do you know about
Wylde ?" he asked in his timid manner.
81? o, very little. l know he is an ac-
tor, that's all. He used to get money paid
him ON behalf of one of our clients, did he
not ?" l answered carelessly.
"I-I don't; it is not my department. I
don't pay money. I never heard of him"
said Graham, nervously.
| No T
don will KNOW I replied.
Mr.. Murdon was our cashier. The old
man grew more agitated than before.
| "You had better not ask him, he re-
turned, hastily. "Mr. Murdon does not
like to be troubled with such-with these
aimless questions. What business it is of
yours?''
| go, none merely asked, Then he did
get the money!" pursued, pointedly.
eyes, yes, of course,-at least, l don't
know never heard of him it is not my
department. Go to your desk"
1t was evident he did know, but would
not tell. Under his nervous shambling
manner that fact was apparent. Equally
apparent was it that nothing could be got
out of him further than what he had I'M
consciously disclosed. l bothered him no
more, but went Oh with my daily work,
and towards evening, when the Office was
closing, approached him again.
care you going straight home, Mr.. Gra-
ham % l asked.
eyes, George, yes ; l am going home.'
''If you have no objection, 1 will walk
that way with YOU
Certainly; II shall be glad. Of
course, George. Come with me by all
means"
| We walked towards old Graham's house
at Remington, discoursing on different
topics. l was careful not to alarm him
with too hasty a reference to the subject of
the morning, for l knew his nature, and
how liable he was to take fright, and how
reticent he could be if sharply questioned.
Besides, did not care to offend him. The
regard of his daAghter was too valuable for
that.
| She met rs at the door, with kiss for
her father and warm smile for me. What
a bright-eyed, glad-hearted, round little
divinity she was. With such a light in my
home l would not have cnvied old BUSTER
himself, with a wife in May Fair of many
pounds avoirdupois, and three stately
daughters who might have sat sentries at
the Horse Guards. And when she brought
us into trinity ordered parlor, which her
taste had rendered attractive beyond the
landlady's rosiest dreams of luxury, and
presided over a pleasant arrangement of
| the cups and SaucerS and water-creSses: 4
very IIebe of the tca-table, a thought visit
fully of Wylde's bank note in my pocket,
and of all the comfort it could purchase to
lay at my darlings feet.
After tea her father left us for moment
together. 1t was an opportunity not to be
| lost, if I would learn whether she knew
anything of what was evidently within old
Graham's knowledge, and what he would
not disclose.
drew my chair close to hers. ''Kate,"
I began, II want to ask you something in
confidence.
| She moved back hastily. 81 am afraid,
George, we mustn't have any condolences,
at least, if they are very particular.
"Why, Kate, dear?' 1 asked in some
astonishment. 'What do you mean %
80, don't call me that" she cried in Il
distressed way ''there must be no more
of that between you and me-"
| 'But Kate Are we not good friends"
80 yes, yes ; but friends only. Don't
look unhappy; I didn't mean to wound
you : but indeed, indeed, you must be
guarded, for your own sake and mine, in
the feeling with which you regard me-"
''Guarded Good heavens, why??"
Because" answered Kate, with a sob
which she strove hard to stifle,-''because
I am going to be married"
| In the suddenness with which the blow
fell upon me did not notice that the door
had orened, and that tall, sallow-faced
man stood contemplating us. A harsh,
sneering voice woke me from my misery.
'sIt is we'll you have made the announce
ment to our young friend here said the
|
and all such interlopers should know they
are trerpassing upon private preserves
when they make free with my property"
started up in undisguised trepidation.
" Your property, Mr. Murdon y 1 cried.
"Do you men to say that yo~ are going to
that you have the right to say this ?"
I had never liked our sallow-faced cash.
Ter: at that moment l positively hated
him. He was a tall, corpulent man of five
and-thirty, with a yellow skim and yellow
whskers, which would not grow on his
checks, but wandered aimlessly down his
long neck, and ended somewhere out of
sight He had an execrable taste in dress,
for he wore pale yellow shirt-collars, which
matched villainously with his hair and face,
and green scarf. His short coatee and bag
gy trousers hung from, rather than cloth
ed, his ungainly stoutness. He had halt
when he walked. His features might have
been handsome but for sneer which always