Edgefield advertiser. [volume] (Edgefield, S.C.) 1836-current, 1896-01-15

S been now some
five weeks at Saltburn, in a large
house which Mr.. Vane had rented fol-
the summer. Henry Vane, ESQ.,,
owned o good.sized mansion in Bel
gravia, where he had lived for the
past eight years during the London
season; and an estate near Noting
ham, amid picturesque scenery, where
he generally resided when not in Lon.
don. Each summer, however, he
rented his house at Saltburn: for moi
only Emily, but himself, too, was
charmed with the quiet, beautiful
Yorkshire watering place. From all
of which it will be at once surmised
that Henry Vane, ESQ, was a man oi
wealth.
LIS money had been acquired
abroad, and though of his family
nothing or little was known by society,
he was received by some excellent
houses; for even titled person does
not care lightly to offend one whose
income is 100000 year.
Emily Vane saw neither sea mol
hills. Her thoughts were wholly oc.
cupied by two letters in front of her.
Both had come that morning, and
both were proposals for her hand.
The first of item was from the Earl oi
Seacroft, who for some time had been
paying Miss Vahe noticeable atten-
tions, and who, both as regarded per.
sonal qualities and position, was in.
deed no bad match fos any English
maiden. He was yet young and fairly
wealthy, and for some months-in
fact, since Emily had "come out"
had been a victim to her beauty and
charms. She admitted to herself that
Lord Seacroft's proposal was not one
to be lightly set aside.
The other letter was from Mr.. HUI
bert Wells. Emily had met him about
six months ago, at q country house,
since which time he had been her de-
voted admirer. She frankly con-
fessed to herself that she liked him,
that she liked his society, that she
knew that lie loved her. But Hubert
Wells was not rich, and had no par
ticular position. He had only about
s400 year, which his father, long
since dead, had lett him to live upon.
Emily Vane still sat, looking first
at this proposal, then at that. She
had for the past week or two expected
both, and SO unsettled and doubtful
was she that she had given neither
suifor any cha pSes-cfA ;propcsinssspar-
sonally. But now it had come-both
on one morning! The ordeal had to
be faced; the decision to be made
Her pride, her love for her father, her
wish to raise the name of Vane, said
"Seacroft;" yet there was small
voice underneath which whispered
"Hubert."
In her perplexity she picked up the
letters, and went to see her father in
his study. Emily yane's mother had
died at her birth; her father was her
closest confdant. AS Emily entered,
he rosed up and kissed her lovingly,
then, smoothing her hair, said quietly
(Which of the two is it to be love?'
The beautiful girl gazea at him with
eyes half dimmed with tears, as she an.
swered, blushlngly:
(Which ever my papa likes He
always chooses for the best. :"
"Well, my dear, suppose should
say Lord Seacroft? 1 have always
wished such a husband for you
titled, yet noble in natures best
ways"
"Yes, papa"
"Yet l like Mr.. Wells.
Emily's heart beat shade quicker
s'He cannot give you what the Earl o
Seacroft can, and what have so otter
pictured you; and yeG-and yet-ht
Is his fathers son!"
The girl gazed, half in fear and as
tonishment, for her father was as pale
as death, and shook visibly.
"What is it, papa?" she said.
"Sit down, my love-" replied Mr.
Vane. SIT has only come, as I ielt
certain some day it would. God has
brought it out in His time. I must
tell you now. Don't be afraid, Emily.
It is the secret OF my life which I've
hidden for thirty-fve years; now you
must share it. [ feel I should not bt
doing right if I let you choose today
without telling you of it. When you
have heard my story you must choose
for yourself, and be assured your
choice, whichever it is, will please me-
AS for what you will hear, it will re
main your secret and mine; shal
keep it as before, and l must beg o
you to do the same all your life. ever
from you husband"
Emily sat in doubt and fear, sure
that the kind father who had SO loved
her would not tell anything to distres
her, if he could help it; and yet anx
ious as to what such an awful secre
could be. The master of Olton sat il
chair with his face away from tn,
light, watching intently that dear
sweet face of his daughter, upon which
the full sunlight shone.
'Thirty-fve years ago convic
ship was sailing from England TO.
Botany Bay, under the command of {
bravo captain and crew. There wer'
no fewer than forty convicts on boarc
desperate fellows OF every descrip
tion-thieves, highwaymen, manslay
ers, all kinds of villains. Among then
wac one whose case had excited mucl
interest at home, since many peopl'
believed him innocent-m"rally, a
any rate-of crime he was said t.
have committed. Among a gang o
poachers one night he, their superio
IL