The Arkansaw traveler., 1884-07-05

| All yours. IT you Wouto oEly nave II! MY l darling,' he wen, on, seizing her two hands, " couldn't you set little fond of something besides the place-a little l fond of me, Janey? Would it be so hard :"
 They had reached by this time the first i little trim cottage with its towering l laurestinus, its gravel path. and tidy for get-me-not beds, set roundly in the twin l sloping grass plots.
 Often enough the mos, ordinary and i familiar objects have the power, in mo- ments of excitement, to bring us back to | our ordinary selves, to what we may con- | ceive to be our duty, and the more usual i tener of our lives. At such moments we 1 catch at straws, remembering words 1 1 spoken to us in childhood. and torture l significance out of the growing of cock | or the striking of an hour.
 Some such mental conflict seemed to be fighting in the young girl who had now reached the cottage gate. She had turned back for an instant, and suffered her eye to travel over the sleeping land- scape. The white mis, crowded up into the hollows of the undalating downs so that the crest of Swallows Hill, with its dense black wood. looked like some island in frothy sea. One end of Caliows farm only loomed out of the mass of trees agains, the pale milky sky. S-award, the little dapple clouds were breaking like foam before young crescent moon which was rising over a distant ridge of hills IL was lovely, unearthly night. in which il would be especially hard to say hard things. Ferhaps this girl felt i, would be easy on this calm, serene night to yield to words which seemed to vibrate in her pulses, and carry her, as on the breast of some smooth flowing river, to the inward peace that would be in tune with the outward scene. The night seemed to speak of satisfaction and rest Yet 1t was only for moment that she 1 suffered her hands to lie in the grasp of the man who was pleading SO earnestly A dogs bark was heard in the distance, and at that moment shadow crossed the window of the brigktly-lighted cot 1 tage. The girl snatched her hands away, | and sprang by her componion. Her de- termination seemed to receive fresh | spur as she now faced the cottage, and | pealed quickly a, the bell.
 It IS no use-no use what you wish | never-never-never can be-" she whis- pered vehemently, while her eyes flashed 1 into the young mans. Do you hear | l me .-never" and with this most dismal of all words in human language on her | 1 lips, she passed up the garden, and, as the door opened, disappeared into the | brightly-lighted hall.
 CHAPTER II. The Callows farm was an old Eliza bethan house which, from its command. | ing position on the crest of the gently 1 rising down, known as Swallows Hill, 1 could be seen for miles around. It's 1 original lines had evidently not been de- 1 void of some architectural grace, but an | ugly Georgian wing to the right of the l house, which had been added in the last I century, gave the building an uncom- for,able and lopsided appearance. The place had, besides, a grass-grown and | mildewed look, sort of vacant, forlorn | air. such as you sec in a dog who has | lost his master. Yet it was not empty |; save for the larger rooms of the Georgian wing, the house was occupied.
 Mrs. Brock. the mistress of Callows farm, indeed never left the grounds, hay ing been confined to her room for many years by spinal complaint which rob- bed her oi all powers ofwalking.
 She was an only child, and had in- herited the place from old Callow, a shrewd, thrifty, if slightly parsimonious gentleman, who died when she had at tained her thirty ninth year. It was some nine months after this respectable gentlemans decease that the mistress of Callows farm married Mir. Brock, dash ing but impecunious man. -about-,owr. whom she had met at some foreign spa. From this day forth things were changed at the Callows farm. For time all went merriiy enough. The new master knew nothing of parsimony and loved goou cheer. and pleased himself hugely in his new country home, riding to hounds in the winter, and playing with the manage men, of the farm.
 IL may have been that his talents were not of the peace.making order. His temper 1t IS to be feared, was that of the hot and slightly overbearing kind. tis indispu,able that the overseer who had been on the Callows farm for twenty years, Jeff wi,h long tale of grievances, and that wan, of management made things go badly at Swallows Hill.
 The new country gentleman's ardor tor the country turned out to be some what intermittent there were months to- gether in which he was no, seen near Yarmouth, and in which, it was whis- pered by neighbors, he had gone back to his old haunts in town. True, Mir. Brock displayed himself in all his bravery at the hunts breakfasts, and in entertain ing his friends at dinner. He liked to imply an expensive mode of living, and among other things to be called the squire" and be taken for staunch conservative, In reality 1t was not in Squire Brock's na- ture 10 be stanch about anything, even m matters which affected him more closely than political principles, but he perhaps took it to be part of country gentleman's propaganda to talk of @bla- tans radicals" and ~rasoally agisa,ors." 1 don't pretend to be a politician