The Milan exchange. (Milan, Gibson County, Tenn.) 1874-1978, 1880-09-09

ElhG IFS DtlDNetlh MUOlt eOuolOur sliit
is noble, she is magnificent, and human worth
is a higher thing than mere caste and
fashion"
"Hughl he must be madr' repeated his
mother. looking at her son with compassion
ate kind OF suspicion breaking through her
indignation.
"Mad or not If this thing goes on he must
be banished from home," said his father stern
ly.
- 1 shall be grieved," returned Julian; "but
/ must wait in hope and possess my soul in
patience. You viii do me and her justice in
the end"
leave the room. sir" Numbered his
father. "YOur insolence, your pedantry are
intoierable. Leave this room now give you
till tomorrow morning to know whether you
will have 20 leave the house rs welln
Father you viii be sorry for your hardness.
You do not know what an angel of goodness
you are rejecting said Julian gently; but ne
obeyed the command and withdrew leaving
his two handsome aud unhappy parents in de-
spair at this untoward event, aud without
much hope that their wrOng-headed son would
see the errors OF his ways-and, seeing, would
amend them.
If they were outraged, what was Clarencel
His indignation against his nephew went as
far beyond theirs as his love fell short; and
had there not been the gallows in the distance
he would have put pistol TO that disturbed
and disturbing head with no more compunc
ton than he would have killed weasel in the
henroost, or a canker worm at the root of
sapling oak.
I" He is insane, and he must be put into a
lunatic asylum" said Clarence. "You owe it
TO yourselves, to our family and our past. not
to allow such disgrace as this to stultify our
whole history. He must be confined close
We have case enough for a certificate"
But the father and mother, though they did
not reject, did not quite indorse, the sugges-
A TsaH1f 4 at-fr in,
Fiction to their family pride, truly; but mad
son was almost worse. Between the two what
comfort was left them! And there was no
chance ofJulian's submission.
The next dav found him as firm and fixed as
he had been the day before. He loved Debby
Scambler and he meant to marry her at all
costs: and neither tears nor reprOaches,
neither prayers nor threats moved him from
his resolution. So that nothing was left to
Hugh Arm trong and his wife Julia. save the
carrying out Of their ultim3tumand the Danish
ment from home of the son who did not respect
the traditions OF that home. They could not
keep him out Of the estate, but during their
lifetime they determined that he should enjoy
nothing which should uphold him in his wick
edness, or make his crooked path more
straight or smooth.
- DO not know what ! can do to earn my
daily bread, +" said Julian with quiet, half mel
ancholy philosophy; " but | will do something.
W uGu YOU Ndll lllC YOU tdll Stliu lOl me DuL
until ] am sent for | shall not trouble YOU
with my presence again.
And with this he left the oldhome and went
up to LOndOn-that maelstrom of youthful
hope and energy and incapacity and despair
to see how best he could make his bread with
never a trade nor profession at his fingers
ends, and in a world where competition Is so
fierce and workers so much in need Of work.
1t had to be done. If he were worth anything
he must show that he was able for his hfe's
work-that he had strength and energy enough
to carry out his plan and to justify his action
of ability by his maintaining his ground. He
tod Deborah to keep up both heart and faith
to believe In him and to love him; to resist all
temptations that would be offered her-temp-
tations Of wealth if she would abandon him,
of doubt in his sincerity, of belief III his death.
She was to be steadfast through everything
and in the end all would be well. He would
be faithful and she must be firm, and together
they could conquer love and the world.
To all of which pretty Deborah said Yes"
weeping in her lovers arms and feeling that
her heart must breaE-it could not bear so
much despair and not give way. But hearts
do not break, in spite of all that poets say and
lovers feel; and the two poor young people
parted and went on living and eating aud
sleeping much the same as usual, only very
unhappy and feeling very desolate.
OF course James Scambler, DebOrah's faith
er, was against the match. He was fine, SEN
sible, faithful, kind of man, who had no false
ideas in any direction.
81 Like to like he said when Julian spoke
to him on the matter; " he was dead against
all unequal pairings in man or beast. Joe
Williams, the senior gamekeeper, was the man
to his mind for Debby; and she would be better
off in everything but money if she took him
rather than the young Squire for whom she was
not fit"
He set his face like a rock against the match
but what could he dol Debby was of age and
must marry with whom she had a mind. He
would only forbid all intercourse with the
young Squire, by letter or by word of mouth
alike, while she was under his roof, and for
the rest he was as powerless as the great folks
at the Hall itself.
All this he said to Julian himself and re-
peated 10 the Squire and his lady; and as
they were fair-minded people they confessed
that they had no case against him, and that he
was as little to be blamed and as much to be
pitied as themselves.
They took his word for it that he would
keep Debby close; and they did not dismiss
him from their service as at first they thought
they would have done. When they thought
more calmly of it they considered it would be
better policy to keep him on. They would
have him more under their own eye, as it were,
and would know Debby's mode Of life and
movements.
To all of which Clarence gave his assent.
Ever revolving his plan in his own mind, but
taking no one at the Hall into his confidence
as to what that plan was.
One day. not long after Julian's departure
James Scambler received a letter, telling him
that an old uncle of his, who lived at an I'M
prOnOunceable place somewhere in the heart
of the Welsh mountains, had died and left him
his farm, and that he was to go down at once
and take possession. Surely it was Providence,
he said to himself with thankfulness and ioy.
1t was the way marked out for him by Heaven
itself to take him and his out of danger and a
position that had become almost intolerably
irksome to him. Proud and upright, it was a
terrible thing for him to be the father of the
girl whom the young Squire fancied, aud to
feel in some measure responsible for all the
grief and perpeXity that had come on his mas
tiers at the Hall through that fancy for his
girl He was glad of this order of release, and
bidding Deborah mind the house and keep in
doors during his absence, he set off for this
place with the unprOnOunceable name TO take
up his inheritance and prepare for a new life
which would, he hoped, set all difficulties at
rest.
1t was a wild autumn night when James
Scambler left his home, and Debby, for the
first time in her life felt afraid TO be alone.
The wind rayed among the trees and the rain
poured in torrents on the roof; but she fast
ened the door as well as she was able-they
were honest folks in those parts, and fasten-
ings were not very secure-and then she went
upstairs, and, all dressed as she was, laid her
self on her bed, feeling somehow more at home
in her own little room than she did down in the
larger, darker kitchen below. She could not
sleep How the wind howled and roaredl 1t
was like a heavy weight pressing against the
walls, and seemed as if it would have carried
the little house clean away. She felt as if
everything must be swept off like so much dust
and chaff. while the rain threatened to swamp
all that the wind left standing. Between the !
two, with the sense of loneliness and her sor-
row in addition, she was wretched enough, |
poor, sweet Debby Scambler, whose only sin |
was in her beauty and tears, of which she was |
ashamed but which she could not Tepress, |
flowed over her fair cheeks on TO the pillow be- |