The Cincinnati daily star. [volume] ([Cincinnati, Ohio]) 1875-1880, 1879-10-15
S0UTHBAY SOCIETY.
A Romance Of the Prince OF Wales
Garden Party.
From London societyT
!. CHAPTER III -(CoNTINUED.)

8pprenenSiVely! Miitt .IW"o HFo. yS"io
younger than, her sister, two sons having
been born between them; but she was
quite old enough to understand the fam
fly troubles, and to marvel what fresh
misfortune could have occurred that had
nothing to do with money matters or
Tom. u
Tom was the only variation in the
shape of trouble that Milly's experience
could remember. ...f p...s .l.s
They had not finished breakfast-Su-
sic, indeed, had only just come down
stairs after taking up her mothers cup OF
tea-when a loud and demonstrative
double knock resounded through the
quiet house. c
That is Mr.. Marlees, said Susie, turn
ing apprehensively to her father. Shall
/ see him, as you do not seem very wellT
Mr.. Yarrell hesitated; a quick, SEN
sitive color fed over his face and then
vanished, leaving it paler than before.
Clearly a man not fitted to cope with ad-
versity, to whom the strong, boisterous
world might well have afforded to be
generous. y. ..
Mr.. Marlees was a solicitor in good
practied in a neighboring town, distant
come four miles from Bersey village
He professed, and perhaps his profess
sion was true, that though in the course
of business it often fell his lot to press
Mr.. Yarrell for money, he desired to
stand his friend; and he had accordingly
called so often during so many years to
try and arrange matters that his knock
was as well known as that of the post
man, and his visits as much dreaded as
those of the plague.
All this time Margaret in the kitchen
was washing her hands and rolling down
her sleeves and tying on clean apron,
preparatory to opening the door, and Mr..
Yarrell in the parlor was nervously
walking from open window to firn-tilled
fireplace, and at last saying:
4 wish you would, Susie; and, wait a
moment, dear; tell him I must go to
London this evening, and that I'll call
upon him about
Margaret having opened the door at
that instant, Mr.. Marlees' voice rang
through the hall, and invountarily, Mr..
Yarrell ceased speaking. w
1 won't detain your master one mo-
ment, my girl were the first words SUI
ne heard spoken. Not finished break
fast? That is capital. will announce
myself, thank YOU And before Susan
Could reach the door he was in the room.
Passing Miss. s..Yarrell by, but doing 50
with an apologetical smile, advanced
towards the vicar.
4 fear l am intruuding, Sir Hubert,
but | really could not resist the tempta-
ton of being the first to offer my con-
gratulations. l trust that happiness
now attend you. The past has been bit
ter; even mine may have been hated
presence here often, though Heavenknows
1t has always been my endeavor to pour
oil on the waters. Miss Yarrell, you
look astonished. Is it possible, is it
credible, then, am the bearer Of this
good newsp
Not good news, Mr.. Marlees,' said the
vicar. gently; most sad and terrible;
such fearful DEATH Not a moment
for-for- 1t has uennerved me, he adj
ded, turning aside. Z have not as yet
mentioned the matter even to my wife.
God bless mel exclaimed Mr.. Mar
ices. of course it was very terrible, and
30 forth-sudden, as, you say; but we
must all die sometime, and it is to be
hoped he was duly prepared
DO yom mean that Sir Henry is dead?'
fnterposed Susan, in gradual cres-
cendo.
Yes, my dear young lady. Killed in
a railway accident; lived an
hour, but never spoke after the collision;
his boy was dead when found
%, papa, papa! cried Susan, finging
herself into her fathers arms, the tears
streaming down her cheeks. % poor Sir
Henry and his little boy and his widow!'
Queer family remarked Mr. Marees,
whenahe was recounting the above par
ticulars during the course of the day. Il
went there expecting to find them Jump.
ing for Joy all over the parish, and give
you my word, sir, the father and daugh.
ter took on as if they were broken heart
ed. If I did not know them to be gen.
uine--if / was not as sure they were
sound at the core as that l am standing
here-Pd have said they were shamming,
by Joye | should! But not bit of it.
Sorry for the dead man, who would
have seen the vicar die Of starvation be.
fore he'd have sent him fve-pound
note; sorry for the boy, who stood be-
tween them and twelve thousand year
sorry for the widow, who was never, IN
be bound, sorry for them; and sorry,
dare say, if the truth were known, they
will for the future be able to keep bal
ance at their bankers, and snap their fin
gers at the bishop g,-...
1t was quite true.
A man like the vicar even if he be al
Indifferent preacher and but an incompe
tent clergyman, can not read Gods wore
and preach His message, and receive int
Christ's flock, and read under wintry
skies and summer sunshine that mos
tender and touching Order for the Buria
of the Dead without being sure ther'
was something in it at all; something
which makes the mere fact of stepping
across a grave to fame, rank, wealth, ,