Year: 1865

Ut OSUGuSUuIS S6COuu u4OAI dSO DOHu-
perhaps even now the object nearest thy
heart is this perfdious meeting will
yours alone in the little cottage outside


the town-and perhaps not


Mr.. Watkins vent out.


Towards the close of Jhe afternoon, a


little woman hooded and veiled, might


have been seen hastily walking throug h


the streets Of the town where the house


of Wilkins and Watkins was located, and


her steps were evidently directed towards


the outer limits of the town. Could the


the disguise which concealed her have


been penetrated, and the purposes which


filed the brain Of that hooded little


figure been read, a certain pretty cottage


in the outskirts would have been found


to be its stimulant, and certain James


Watkins, whose ears were to ring with


the voice Of Therapeutics. twas Mrs.


Watkins-that much outraged woman


and her indignation was earnest and COM


plete. The distance, however, from her


home-her ruined home, the scene of her


blasted hopes and expectations-to the


cottage was very long, and fatigue of


body, whatever novelists may say to the


contrary, exerts a. controlling influence


over all feelings of the human mind, ex-


cept love, which nothing can change. I


have consulted proper authorities on this


point, and am sustained in saying that


ioye-the real article, Imean, as different


from the spurious sort as the bottled


cider they sell at the shops is from real


apple juice-never changes. Fatigue


worked change in the temper of her
anger, and by the time she had arrived in
sight of the cottage, she felt more like
crying than scolding, and sitting down
upon a stone in the gathering dusk, she
indulged in few tears, deeming herself
at that moment about as wretehed lit
tie woman as could be imagincd. She
felt very lonely, and any seeing her thus.
who would not be disposed to cowhide
the perddious Watkins must be devoid of
chivalry indeed.


A light cleaned from the window of
the cottage for a moment, and beautiful
figure was seen to draw down the curtain.
Mrs. Watkins-the quassi widow, who
felt as if she had already embarked on
her solitary voyage over the stormy
waves of time, looking back to pleasant
bay brim full of lighthouses, from which
her bark had been swept by the ruthless
gale of mans falsehood-startedu up, and
felt new resolution steal into her little
heart as she gazed upon the form of the
one she was convinced was her rival
She dried her tears with her renewing
strength, and stood looking at the house
at the window-vhere the light still
shone upon the curtain. A momertafter
a chasse drove past where she stood and
stopped before the door. She saw the
man get out and secure the horse to a
post, and, the door opening on the instant,
a food of light from within revealed to
her gaze the false man whose heart she
had deemed her own exclusive property.
All, Watkins. She saw him trip up the
steps that led to the front door, and in
moment her ears were assailed by a vol
ley of sounds denoting welcome more
warm than platonio feeling would prompt.


She was concealed from their view by
the shrubbsry, and the surprise was such
that she was irresOlute for a moment as
to how she should act. She had failed
to provide herself with a dagger or any
other murderous weapon, and hence a
was out Of question. There was,
amid the whirl Of emotion that flledher,
strange to say, no feeling Of haired for
the false Watkins. The rePIOach in
tended for him she had already trans
ferred to the e.woman whom she felt had |
drawn him from his allegiance, but she
could not be brought to hate the man she /
had loved so well, that she felt she still /
loved maagre all his duPIioity. The
closing door left her standing in the
mind as well as body.


Mrs. Watkins brought her body from
out the shadow, but she thought the
shadow from her heart, like the beak of
the raven in Poe's peom, would be lifted
never more. As she stood gazing upon
the window where she supposed her IN
famous lord was sitting in guilty DALI
auce with his Delilah, a white hand
reached outside the, curtain and raised
the sash As the bee pouuoes upon a
rosein June, as hen-hawk dashes among
q flock Of chickens, as a horse-fy darts
Upon his prey, and as a mosquito with
angry Importantly thrusts in his bill, 50
did Mrs. Watkins avail herself of the op-
portunity of listening afforded by that
open sash, and she crouchcd by it as a
cat might be supposed to watch by
mouse hole. There was a sound of tink-
ling glasses within, and other indications
Of an agreeable evening, while soft voices
to a whisper, and many tender ]