The Newtown bee., 1879-06-03

sfantly increasing interest. In fact. he did not blame George at all he regarded nm as one who, in an unfortunate hour, had fallen into the hands of a power which was too great for him. He pitied the happy bridegroom, and re- solved as soon as possible to release him from the tolls of the woman who had charmed and enslaved him.
 In vain Georges wife smiled upon and entertained Mark Ripon. He visited her house, indeed, for it was necessary to watch her movements; but neither her {. smiles, nor songs, nor attentions moved Mark. He had go,-e through that de- fusion once, and was not to be deceived again. It was one great point in his favor that George had taken house in such situation that he could keep the young wife under very close surveillance, and he was confident that sooner or later he would prove her all that he believed women universally to be-.
 But month after month went by, and George was more in love than ever. There had also come to the happy home, over the way from Marks, fine little boy, that had been called after him, and a blue-eyed girl, whom not even Mark | could yet find in his heart to regard as false and dangerous. He was even ventuling to make Mrs. George Downes that ex- ception said to be contingent on every rule, when suddenly all his suspicious were forced into active life and prom thence.
 One day-a very wet one-a close car riage drove up to Georges house, and Mrs. George, heavily cloaked and yelled, was driven away in it.
 "v Very well, ma'am," said Mark, sus- piciously, to himself, i've shall see whether you confess to having been out to-day" .r
 So he went over to Georges, played a rubber or two with his favorite, and tried every way to induce confession as to the drive in the rain but the young wife would make no allusion to it. This was on Monday. On Thursday, at the same hour, the carriage came again, and Georges wife went away in it. The next week she went out sn three differ ent days, and twice, the weather being fine, he noticed that she wore her very best satin dress, the rich blue brocade that had been one of her wedding suits.
 The affair was beginning to look very black to Mark, for he had satisfied him. self that George had been told nothing whatever ofthese clandestine excursions. >On the next Monday he had carriage waiting, and when the lady went out again he directed his driver to keep her well in sight. In this way he followed 1 her beyond the aristocratic precincts of the city, to little house set back in a garden quite in the suburbs. 4 very handsome foreign-looking man met her at the door, and led her with many smiles into the house. -. l Mark sent his carriage home, and, in spite of the cold, patiently waited. After an interval of two hours Mrs. Downes' carriage returned, the same gentleman put her carefully into it, and she must have driven at once home, for when Mark passed the house she was sitting 1 in her plain merino dress at the window, nursing his namesake. She ran to the door and begged him to come in, but Mark was full of his discovery, and answered, gruffiy: Ask George to come to me after dinner; have some thing to tell him."
 1 George heard what his godfather had to say, with face half angry and half incredulous. "It must have been my wife's sister, he said. a.s
 Mark laughed scornfully at such de- | fence, and, moreover, stoutly asserted that it was Mrs. Downes, and not Mrs. Downes' sister "Come on Thursday, and see for yourself George"
 If do, godfather, it will not be be- cause I suspect my wife, but because I am sure to prove you wrong"
 Still George thought it singular that he could not by the most adroit ques- tioning get from his wife any allusion to these mysterious visits. At length he said: Emma, will ask for Thursday afternoon, and we will go out to Ald- borough Woods, and get the holly and mistletoe for Christmas. What do you say?"
 'sI can't go Thursday. George, dear; l have so much to do.n
 " IlaC have you to do!
 More than I can tell you. Is it not near Christmas, and does not that imply all sorts of housekeeping dutiese But will go with you Friday. dear" George was little cross at the refusal, and answered, gloomily, No; he had l lost the wish to go now" Then both were silent, and the evening was not 8 pleasant one. All the next day he told himself that he would not go and watch his wife Thursday; yet when the day l came he was sitting with his godfather at the window. At the usual hour the carriage arrived, and Mrs. Downes, with l her hair as elaborately dressed as if she was going to n state dinner at the bishops palace, ran down the steps, and was soon driven rapidly away.
 Well, godfather" he said, pleasant 1 ly, that is Emma, certainly, and she is I very remarkably dressed; but, for all l that, I am sure she has some good req son for what she is doing. l believe l will wait until she tells me-"
 Don't be such fool, George; go and question your servants"
 After little renecUlon, George crossed to his own house and rang the bell. The housemaid seemed astonished at his ap- pearance, and when he asked where her mistress was, said she had not seen her since she had taken her orders for dinner. Then George went up to the nursery. 1aa w here is your mistress, Annp"
 Is she not in the parlor, sirP''
 ssYou know she is not. Where did she go in the carriageP"
 {. Indeed. sir, it is my business to mind