The Penn's Grove record., 1885-03-14

look fingered III hel eyes,
which perplexed and worried me, and
which | could not forget. 1t was only
when Arthur returned to the partner.
ship subject, and we gaily discussed the
advantages that would arise from IT.,
that Ellie's dream ceased to haunt me;
as no one ever limited at the sub
Ject again, | soon forgot all about 1t.
Five years passed away-tive short
happy years-blessed by Providence in
many ways, and darkened by only a sin
gle trouble-little Ellie, my youngest
darling. was taken from us. For a
while / felt as If ] could not be re-
signed. She was the sweetest and pref
test of all the nock-at least so !
thought; and l INDUCED in very wild
and wicked repinings. | felt it all the
more too. because just then | lost my
dear sister Ellie. She married Ernest
Hamilton, and they went abroad.
Ernest was not at all strong. The doc
tors gave his malady no name, but they
strongly advised his giving up work and
trying a few years of complete rest IN
the South of France. His uncles made
him a liberal allowance, and, had 1t not
been for her husbands Ill health, |
think dear Ellie would have been SUI
premely happy. She was not a very
gushing" correspondent, but she never
neglected US, and was devotedly at
tached to my children.
But one day | was rudely awakened
from all my pleasant dreams 10y the
startling intelligence that Lesson Bros.
and Goring had failed. The first shock
of such news was terrifying; but had
no idea of the real meaning CT it till
Arthur told me, some days after, with
tears and bitter self-reproaches, that
failure meant absolute ruin AID perhaps
disgrace, that there was nothing to be
saved from the general wreck, and that
he, more than anyone else, was to blame
that he had %speculated rashly and
madly, and lost everything.
| comforted him as well as | could,
poor fellow, and assured him that
knew he had acted for the best, what
ever other people might think. l en-
treated him to rouse himself and meet
his troubles like a man, and emulate my
bravery; though in truth | felt an alb
iect coward when | thought of the tu-
ture-not on account of the poverty
could face that-but the disgrace which
poor Arthur feared lay behind. When
the affairs of the firm were investigated,
however, Lesson Brothers and Gorlng
emerged from the wreck honorable but
ruined men-that is. the great bulk OF
the loss fell upon their own shoulders
Arthur's especially; and that cOnsoled
my dear husband more, | think, than
anything else.
My little fortune, bringing me in
about fotty pounds a year, was settled
on myself, and on that we should have
to exist till Arthur found some occupa'
ton. Our household was broken up,
our servants were dismissed, and we
went into cheap apartments. Some OF
Arthur's friends behaved nobly to us In
our trouble; for they all seemed to real
ize that he had been i'll advised and UNI
fortunate. not careless or wicked. One
offered to keep Willie at school till we
could recover ourselves a little; another
proposed to do the same for Fred; and
a third offered Arthur a situation in
Ireland as a steward to Sir Redmond
Blake of Abbey lands.
1.-THE place is remote, unsettled, not
In any sense of the word a sinecure, ,
Sir Redmond SAID in his letter, ''hut the
salary is five hundred pounds a year
and the expenses are trifling. If you
decide on accepting the situation, J
should like you to commence on YOU
duties at once. Mind-I warn you be
forehand that you will require both pa
thence and resolution, and perhaps Z
little courage; but IN Englishman anC
a man of business is not often lacking
in those qualifications"
"In go, Maggie, said Arthur, after
reading the letter for the third time
eyes, I'll accept this situation. In thu
present depressed state of trade J
couldn't do nearly so well in London
Five hundred pounds a year in IRELAND
IS a large income, and, as Sir Redmond
says, the expenses are trifing. Yes
Wen go, dear"
Very we'll, Arthur l replied. 81
seems hard to have to go away from thu
children, but 1 suppose it cannot bt
helped. We must make the best of 1t
dear, and it may not be for very long,
Not an hour longer thu, | a help
Maggie. Let me only accumulate {
little capital, and III begin again.
And then Arthur wrote off at once, &C
cepting the situation
A month afterwards, with u two
Youngest children-Minnie and jessie
we placed at school, as we had learned
that there would be only very meagr'
opportunities for educating them III thu
place to which we were going-and ont
trustworthy servant who had nuTsed al
my little ones. Arthur and | started TO
Abbeylands, full of hope and brigh
anticipations for the future, cheerful il
spite of parting with our loved one
and the breaking up of our happy home
At last We reached Abbeylands, afteI
a quarter of an hours drive through
sort of park on the shores of the lake
The house itself stood slightly on a hill
and commanded a magnificent panora
mic view of the surrounding country
for miles With the sea to the back anC
the lake in front, Abbeylands seemed
to rest on a sort of bridge between them
1t was a glorious old house, though
IN a pitiable state of decay. Each sid
of the principal entrance was thanked
by two enormous square towers; and al
arched doorway adorned with rich cary
ing admitted us into a WIDE hall, il
which a turf fire smouldered dreamill
on the wide hearth and filed the room
with a strange, moi unpleasant odor
An elderly man rose up from the SHADOW
of the chimney corner and advanced t,
meet us with a rude courtesy.
"Yer the new agent, Mr.. GoriDg
way IN, SIT. Welcome to Abbeylands
ma'aml I'm Miles Kelly the Dailif.
"Ah, yesI I've heard of you from
Sir Redmond l hope we shall wort
together, Miles, for the good of the ten
ants and the good of the property, ,
said Arthur cheerlly.
II hope SO, sir; but sorra much goOC
there is in either one or the other" Wa
the rather gloomy reply. "Would you
ike to look at the rooms we made read
for you, ma'amp They're not yer,
comfortable; but we did u best-ml
wife au' me. There's hardly a oom il
the house fit for a dog, much less
| Christian, to live IMP
81 dare say we shall manage said