The Van Buren press. [volume] (Van Buren, Ark.) 1859-1914, 1878-05-07
MISCELLANY.
A Terrible Mistake.

luulan NeueFal WHO uleu covered WITH
fame, and left her alone and literally
friendless in Bombay, where he breathed
his last.
His dying words were: "Go home,
my poor girl, to your Aunt Ariugford,
at Elmsley, near London, and stay with
her until you are married TO Walter"
For Gen. Guild and Col Cary had
been friends together and comrades in
many battle, and had long ago afllanced
their motheress children to one another
the wedding to take place as soon as
the young man had attained his ma
jority.
SO here was the orphan girl nearing
the end of her journey, and gazing
wistfully at the strange and unfamiliar
land of her birth.
There was one clause in her dead
fathers will which had REQUIRED to Do
ra's mind with ever present pain, ever
since she had first heard it; and that
was, should she, upon making the ac-
quaintance of Walter Cary, refuse to
marry him, the bulk of her fortune
should be passed over to her cousin, Pen
elope Arlingford.
That her dear father should think it
necessary tn coerce her into compliance
had rung from her many tear. Wholly
IMMERSED in the strong-minded ways of
some English maidens she had never
dreamed of disobeying him, or Of choos-
ing mate for herself.
The journey was over at last.
Miss Guild found herself in quiet
country house, surrounded by the most
fervent assurances of welcome from her
sole surviving relatives, who, of course,
knew all about her affairs, and treated
her with the most delicate consideration.
Mr.. Arlingford was bluff and hearty
gentleman farmer; Mrs. Arlingford a
reserved lady, who, however, seemed
kindness itself, while Penelope, the only
daughter, and Dora's possible rival for
the fortune, was gentle faced chestnut
haired girl of twenty, who greeted Dora
by winding her arms around her and
laying her cheek TO hers without a
word.
In the course of the evening of Miss
Guilds arrival, while she was giving her
aunt some account of her voyage from
India, she observed her cousin Penlope
standing out on the lawn, talking earn
es,ly with gentleman.
1t was brilliant night in midsummer
the moon with and searching as great
time light, shone on the pair, and showed
Miss Arlingford's companion to be not
only young and handsome, but also a
lover.
His hand held hers, and his stately
head, was often bent in unmistakeable
leaned toward him in all the loving con
tidence of returned affection.
Very soon they entered the parlor,
and Walter Cary was directly presented
to Miss Guild.
And the lover of Penlope!
Dismay, CONSERVATION, fell upon the
heart of the orphan. There could be no
mistake--every look, every action of the
two betrayed it.
She was affianced to a man who loved
another.
The cold touch of his hand on hers,
the distant salutation, as if she were the
merest stranger, proclaimed that he was
resolved to ignore the contract which
was between them.
Dora shrank into the darkest corner
Of the room, and bitter disappointment
filed her soul.
Very soon however, the conversation
going on around the table arrested her
attention. Walter Cary was telling Mr..
Arlingford and Penlope an account of a
strange murder which had lately &C.
Cured
THE man." said he, "was rather a
clever chemist, and accomplished his
purpose in manner savoring more of
the exploits of the Arabian Nights
epoch than those our day. He got
possession OF her journal, and impreg
mated it's leaves with a sort of volatile
poison, which she Of course inhaled the
first time she made record in the book,
the result being a mysterious death which
no one could account for
The eyes Of Penelope Arlingford were
fixed upon the narrator with pulsatlng
eaperness which arrested the attention
of the orphan.
"What conld it have been ?" she al
most whispered.
Don't believe it, remarked Mr.. Ar
lingford stentiourly.
The lovers were gazing at each other,
and there was a half smile on the feat
ures OF each.
Soon after this, Dora, Being consid
cradle weary after her railway journey,
was conducted to her bedchamber by
her cousin, who again embracing her in
mute, clinging fashion, hoped she
would rest well and left her
Not one word had been said about her
betrothal to the young man in the par
lor. Her claims had been wholly ig-
nored. Her cousin was likely not only
to rob her of her inheritance, but of her
husband also.
The young girl retired to bed with
feeling of desolation at her heart which
may be easily imagined, and fell asleep
weeping bitterly for her old, happy In
dian life, when she was the idol Of her
father and darling of her ayab.
She woke-or rather she struggled
back to concousness-with these words
running through her mind" the result
being a mysterious death, which no one
could account for"
| 1t was disagreeable remark TO Occur
to one in the middle of the night, and It
rouses her to a preternatural waketul