, 1879-12-01

book, to step to her side, and take the
heavy organ-lid into his own hands
His words we're the most ordinary; but
to the one who spoke them they had a
deeper Significance. 'Let me help
vou," he said. and Miss Alcastor, never
lifting her eyes. bowed her head, and
sped away down the little chapel aisle,
through light and over shadow, the
gold and purple glories raining down
their luminous showers upon her as she
went: fed from him and was gone.
De Courcey closed the organ, locked
it, and pocketed the key.
"Angry with me, I suppose, for
speaking to her," he thought; "but
angry or not. sne will be obliged to
come to me for her key.
She came for it that evening, and
asked as queen might.
From that hour the young organist, in
her poor, black dress, became to De
Courcey the central personality of the
place. It was, in fact, very unpleas-
ant position, that of Miss Alcastor.
You may think little of these persecu-
tions. While world is lying in wick
edness; while the whole creation is
groaning; while kingdoms are being
rent, battles fought, and lives sacri-
feed; while all the tragedies of this
human life are being enacted; it seems
very small thing to you, doubtless,
that one young woman. here among the
green hills, if being pursued to death
by the dragon of social ostracism.
AL the same, it was grievous to be
borne; and Edward De Courcey, whose
life had been one long trail of sun
shine. from his soft cradle to the spring
bed of this present. was conscious of
his whole chivalric soul rising up, and
Miss Alcastor, an enchanted maiden,
persecuted of demons, and sore test
ed.
" l have made discovery" contided
Miss Leslie to our friend one day. The
time was the evening twilight; gold
and purple afterglow, flushing all above,
and transfiguring all below. De Cour-
cey was strolling along the garden
paths, and Miss Leslie and another of
her race and species had just revealed
themselves to him from a Wisteria-
arbor. The discovery is this: What
would you give to know the name of
the man whom Miss Alcastor's father
"What would I give? Really, I
fear I must be deplorably wanting in
curiosity" De Courcey's tone was not
encouraging. But that mattered little
to the speaker. On she went, bending
near. until her red lips nearly touched
his ear.
"The name of that wretch's victim,
by the oldest of condolences, was
Would you believe it? The name
Was"
DE Courcey !"
Another voice had taken up the word.
Another figure stepped out of the
shadows of the shrubbery, and stood
before them.
"Miss Alcastor ~ gasped Alice Les
lie.
eyes," in a tone scarcely above q
whisper. The young girl was gazing
down at the blonde little lady, with
steady eyes: but her face was pale as
an early star flashing white against the
golden sky.
"Yes." she went on, "the name
was De Courcey, and he was the
uncle of Mr.. De Courcey here"
"What, my uncle, Van De Courcey ?"
said De Courcey. "Then the term vic
tim belongs on the other side. Let me
tell you. Miss Leslie" and he turned to
her, since you have thrust this name
upon me, that this Van De Courcey is
the individual of whose character and
career our family, from old Ponce De
Courcey, down to your humble servant,
have least reason to felicitate ourselves.
Shall we go in, Miss Alcastor ?" and ,
turning from Miss Leslie, he offered his
arm, with the profoundest obeisance to
the music-teacher, and walked away with
her.
"Thanks 1t was very kind of
you," was her only remark.
"She is cold. I believe that Alice
wasn't far wrong about that" thought
De Courcey.
The summer days waxed and waned
guests came and guests went to and
from Cliff House; yet, meanwhile, the
slight, flexible figure, in its worn black
dress, the white face growing whiter,
the large, sad eyes, larger and sadder,
all these we're making themselves more
and more an abiding picture before our
hero's eyes. ct was pity that begun
it," he confessed, subsequently.
" Why, don't you know, if you find a
kitten the victim of obloquy, you di-
rcctly adopt it into your heart. I'm
agine me, then, rousing up in my ire to
champion Miss Alcastor.
De Courcey still kept his seat in
chapel near the organ. To be sure. he
seldom received word for his pains,
but not unfrequently his watching was
rewarded by look. Do you compre-
hend how this timid glance of appeal,
this flash of shy eyes the next instant
yelled, how it fed his hungry soul for
whole days? "And yet it is only that
I wish to be her FRIEND" he told him