The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1882-12-30

thing almost like faint sob.
"Well, never mind, aunt" said her
nephew. "Mark, you know, hates the
country; so dull for town man..
$50 dull, dear? L don't see. We to
have dancing tonight and dancing tomorrow
night, and those other amusements heard
you and Cora planning-and l thought there
was great deal in contemplation. Well, II
he would not enjoy himself don wish him
to come. I can't understand his enjoy
ments-they tell me very disquieting stor-
les about him. IF he were like you, Mark,
as much in nature as in name !! she said,
looking sadly on her nephew. "You are
more my son than he.
She had had her dream about that grace
less Young fellow who was source OF SO
much anxiety. If he and Cora had liked
each other! But it was not to be-
Like me in name he is indeed, laugh
ed Mark; ''but as unlike me in nature as
possible. At school they used to call him
the "Black Mark" and me Mark, the
perfect maD," out of the Bible you know,
and that's how we were distinguished. was
an awful prig, I'm afraid-a sort Of mix
ture of Quaker and Puritan, while he was
as reckless and disorderly almost as-as-
as Cora here.
"What do you mean, sir p cried Miss
Ailsworth, and even old Aunt Alice
laughed.
at is fair hit, Cora,' said the latter.
"You certainly need to cultivate more care
full habits. | found your diamond ear
rings on the parlor-mantelpiece this morn
ing; and your watch-where was 1t, Roslna
found your watch last week p
II don't know; but it might be any
where" replied the beautiful young lady,
with rather scornful smile in Mark S dl-
rection. II should hate to be perfect.
Some peoples virtues are more hateful
than other peoples faults"
every well, Miss Ailsworth, " said Mark,
serenely. "Some day you will meet with a
serious loss, and though [ don't usually re-
joice at misfortune, 1 shall on that occasion
give my feelings free vent
Swiftly the winter twilight approaches,
and though the sun had not quite touched
the western hills, there were already the
signs and tokens of the coming night.
Mark Croxton accompanied the ladies
back to the house, and then strolled about
until dusk, smoking cigar; and then up to
his room he went to prepare for the COM
pany expected in the evening.
After while came a subdued knock at
the door. He was rather surprised to see
old Tom Willis, coachman, gardener, fac
totum, and what not, about the place, who
smiling mysteriously, came in, holding a
note between his thick finger and thumb,
which, without singl word, he delivered
and withdrew. The note astonished Mark,
and very properly, for it read as follows:
"MR. MARK CRoxroN Il have followed
YOU down here to Middlefeld and will be at
Briar Hill to night at the gate that leads into
the orchard. | wish to see you, and it will
be the worst thing that can happen to you if
you refuse to meet me. l will be there be-
tween nine and ten. MARY LOTUS"
A mistake, clearly. He had never
heard of Miss LOTUS; and the inference
was natural-her note was intended for the
other Mark-his rakish cousin, who had
got himself into an ENHANCEMENT with this
young person.
Well, our hero, something of the man.
of-the-world in his way, felt that he must
keep the appointment and explain, other
wise Miss Lotus might bring about more
mischief than she perhaps intended.
So, philosophizing upon the folly of youth,
Mark dressed for the evening, and being
ready soon, and restless, went down stairs
again to the parlor, ON the possible chance
Of meeting Cora there. But he was disap-
pointed.
The piano was open, and he sat down to
pick over the keys, and suddenly his wan
dering eye caught sight of pretty little
pearl portemonnaie lying on the music-rack.
Cora's, of course, for her name was on the
back. Needless Cora He took the low
ers liberty of opening the pocketbook,
and was not the least surprised to find a
roll of bank notes within-one hundred
dollars
So like Cora.
He was vexed with her; to man of his
severely correct habits, this sort of reck-
lessness was profoundly annoying, and he
could not help thinking of the future be-
fore him with such a young lady as his
wife.
II must try to get her into better habits,
or we shall have decided misunderstanding,
and many of them"
So he placed the portemonnaie in his
pocket, with the firm determination to say
nothing about having seen it until Miss
Cora had had sufficient fright, after the
discovery of its loss.
Dancing parties in the country, as we
know, begin and end at what old-fashioned
folks describe as ga reasonable and proper
hour"
Mrs. Croxtons guests began to arrive
about eight o'clock, and soon the parlors
were full The leading people of the coun-
ty were there-some had come twenty
miles-and very brilliant and animated
scene the throng presented.
Mark Croxton-a rather shy man-did
not present himself until the crowd had
pretty well gathered, when he contrived to
enter without being much noticed, under
cover of a resounding duet by the accom-
plished Miss Linnetts at the piano.
He paid his respects where they were re-
quired, and then took up his post in a
rather out of the way spot to look on and
muse undisturbed; and he was deep in
know not what sublime reverie when, all Of
sudden, it occurred to him that it must
now be considerably past nine o'clock.
Among so many, to come and go unob-
served was easy; and quietly he slipped
away, and he was soon out Of the house and
in the grounds in the clear starlight.
Lighting cigar and drawing his coat
about him, quietly he glided to the point
of meeting. And as he approached the or
chard gate figure emerged to meet him
the slim, graceful figure of young girl
thinly clad and shivering
She was very pretty, he could easily tell;
but her features were thin and little hag-
gard, and in her large bright eyes there
was gleam of menace and passion.