Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1878-10-13

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varying kindness with which Mrs. Maynard
| treated her huaband? while, as regarded my
self, although she of course felt that there
was difference between us, she would scarcely
condescend TO acknowledge its existence, and
| treated me V th a generous affection which
| made me sometimes warm toward her in
spite OF myself.
But then, that sudden parting with Arthur
| Melford What was the cause Of that dreary
farewell? Was it not probable that the daugh-
| ter OF young Melfords employer had found
| out that her fathers usher was acquaintaned
with me, and had she not felt it her duty to
inform my father Of the cladestine and pre-
sumptuous courtship ofthe poor and despised
| young man?
Eighteen months passed away My father
had retired from his share of the business in
which he had so long and SO profitably en-
gagged, and we were residing in pleasant lit
| tie retreat in quiet watering place on the
Kentish coast. 1t was Autumn. Seabridge
was getting dull; the myriads who annually
flock to the unpretendng yet popular littl
town, were falling off with the yellow leaf In
another brief mouth they would all be gone.
We fingered to the last, for my father en-
| joyed the rough weather that let in at the
| beginning of October, the Seabridge pier with
I It's tarpaulined sailors, formed his daily prom
enade 1t was the season of the equinoctial
| gales, and the casualties at sea were becoming
| frequent and serious. The autumnal visitors to
/
| gan to experience difficulty Ill taking their
constitutional walks; trades people became
anxious about their plateglass, and like so
many sailors on board ship, prepared for a
long spell of bad weather. One evening we
were seated rourd COSY fire. when a word
or two spoken by my step mother tony father
reused my curiosity to q high degree. 1t was
III reference to the bad weather that Mrs
Maynard spoke.
Terrible indeed at SEAL" she said. Ellis
ship will be due soon Heaven grant him q
safe voyage honew
wondered to whom Mrs. Maynard's remarks
bore reference. After our early supper my
father suggested that we should take turn
of the pier.
"Theres fine sea running," he said; "and
as we return to London next week we must
axe the most of the briny.'
We readily acquesced and having wrapped
ourselves up III our Warmest garments, set
out The night was very dark, and the scant-
| lily lighted and narrow streets of the town
looked desolate and deserted; but round the
custom-house, which was opposite the pier,
Was assent ed group of sailors who, from
their excited demeanor, were evidently dis
cussing some grave calamity. We pressed
on eagerly, being anxious to learn the cause
of the excitement. One of tho toughest and
heartiest of the old salts informed us that the
| llfe-boat was about to set out to the rescu, of
large clipper ship which had struck on the
| Eddy Sands, the crew of the light-ship having
| fired an alarm rocket
In the course Of a few moments the life-bcat
| toWed out by the steam tug, left the harbor,
| AS they dashed out into the pltchy darkness
of the night a loud cheer rose from the crowd
assembled at the pler-head, and many silent
prayer was breathed for the safety of the gal.
liant mariners and the success of their endeav-
ors. We determined to remain on the pier
until the return of the ife-boat, which,
| it was said would probably be in
the course OF an hour and a half. We whiled
away the time by taking brisk pedestrian ex-
ercise and although the night was cold and
cherries, we felt to much interested in the
fate OF the good ship which had run aground
to think OF any Inconvenience we might ex-
perience.
Nerrly three hours elapsed before there
were any signs of return Of the life boat, but
at the end OF that time shout from the ex-
pcctant multitude announced that she was at
hand. A general rush was made toward the
head of the pier, and in few minutes the YES
sci and the steam tug had glided into the
quiet waters of the harbor. The greatest excite
ment prevailed. 1t was soon ascertained that
the name of the wrecked ship was the Alder
ton, from New York The captain and the
whole of the crew and passengers were saved,
and as they landed on the pier they were
scrutinized with curious eyes by the good
people Of Seabrldge.
"Here comes the captain exclaimed one,
as tall, Misunderstanding man mounted the
wooden steps by the landing pl ace; "but who
is that with him?- one of the passengers, of
course"
But what was it that I saw My father and
his wife hastily rushed forward with a cry of
surprise, and seemed to recognize the hand
some young man who landed with the captain,
and the young man himself greeted them
cordially; Then heard my father say:
'Thank God for this, my young friend!
You are saved!-saved!'
In another instant found myself face to
face with Arthur Melford
Florence, dearest, I am at last able to
throw of the mask, and to explain to you all
tSat has seemed so mysterious, and has alloy
ed the love that should subsist between us.
Oh, Floy! | have long noticed your GOODNESS
toward me, and it has made me miserable:
but thank Heaven! there will sood be an end
to it."
1t was my stepmother who thus spoke to
me. We were alone together. 1t was but an
hour since we had SO unexpectedly met Ar
thur Melford.
81 am so astonished-bewild by what
has happened to-night-that 1 hardly know
| what to say" I replied. "Our meeting with
Listen, my dear girl" interrupted Mrs.
Maynard, land l will explain everything. You
must know that and Arthur Meliord are dis
were poor, and he was left an orphan at an
| early age. When he was seventeen he be-
came junior teacher at my fathers school at
Hackney. My father treated him with I'M
| varying kindness, and in return for which he
| gave him most Jealous AID energetic services
Arthur always looked upon me in the light of
a sister,and made me his confdant in many of
| his private affairs. But he had no secret
| worth the telling until he accidentally met a
certain Miss Florence Maynard; and when he
| told me-mind Floy, was like a sister-that
| he had lost his heart to that young lady, and
| asked for my advice, hardly knew what to
say. He was poor, REFLECTED, and your father
was rich. L was still in doubt and perplexity
on the subject, and had almost determined to
place the affair before Arthur in its true colors,
when one of those strange chances which
sometimes occur, introduced me to your
| father.
Now, am not going to confess much, Flor
ence, but I must little. When Mr. May
nard proposed to me, put into execution a
very cunningly- devised plan. I told him the
story of the loves of Arthur and Florence, and
promised him my hand on this one condition,
that he should do his best to improve Arthur
Melford's worldly prospects. Your father
asked me to introduce him to Arthur, and l
did so privately. The interview was satisfac-
tory in its results, for Mr.. Maynard arranged
| that Arthur should go to Canada for a year or
so to mercantile house there, which was in
timately connected in its relations with his
own firm. Arthur joyfully acceded to the