Year: 1879




golden sands;


Wilfred pleaded for short engagement,
but Mr.. Courtaine had his own notions on
the subject He believed that people ought
to allow themselves sufficient time to become
acquainted as far as possible with each 9TH
er's dispositions, and not enter trashy or un.
advisedly" into that compact which should
not afterwards be broken, lest repentance
might chance to come too late. This time OF
probation he fixed at one year; and though
both Wilfred and Daisy were naturally posi-
tive that trial in their case was superfuous,
the latter, as any girl would, professed to CO.
incide with "Papa's'' views, and the former
was too blest by the new prospects which
had dawned upon his life to grumble at lit
tie delay in their ful6llment. Besides, love-
making was a sufficiently agreeable employ
ment for him not to be too anxious to cut it
short; so he read hard, in the anticipation of
soon passing his examination, spent his even
ings with Daisy, laid thousand charming
plans for the future, and was content.


1t was understood that he was to bring his
bride home, when he married, to Madame
d'Arcy's house but Madame had her own
plans, which she did not choose to speak Of
Just yet. During Wilfreds oAice-hours, how
ever, she paid frequent visits to certain ar
cbitect, with whom she seemed to have busi-
ness; and all through these long summer
days, handsome residence, of most substan-
tial and careful construction, was slowly 60
ing up, in one of the prettiest and most aris-
tocratic quarters of the city. This mansion
was designed as wedding gift to her adop-
ted son and she also had ideas concerning a
country.seat on the Hudson, which she inten-
ded purchasing for herself, but which Wiltred
and his wife were also to consider their home,
and run up to it as often and for as long a
time as they should choose. So she, too, had
plenty to occupy her thoughts. Wilfred's
first trial was Daisy's absence, when she went
away during the hot weather to some Springs,
with her father and mother; but as the dis
tance which separated them was not great,
and he had the hope ofjoining her for lit
tie while, after his examination, he consoled
himself with her letters, which came in an
swer to his two or three times week, and
which were next best to herself.


While all the people were happy and en-
crossed, Ralph found small consolation in
the knowledge that his rival had so easily
won the prize which he had not even ventured
to try for. Chance had thrown the young
men frequently together since their first meet
ing, but their intercourse had never become
cordial. In fact, while Wilfred felt only in
difference for Ralph, the latter's sentiments
towards his namesake had soon assumed the
form of positive dislike and gradually deep
ened into absolute hatred. Of this, Wilfred
was ignorant. He had never consciously made
an enemy in his life, and could not suppose
himself the object of detestation which he had
done nothing to deserve. He knew nothing,
of course, of Ralphs inner life; of his strug-
giles and bitter revolt against poverty, his
love for Daisy and consequent disappoint-
ment at her prospective marriage. He only
knew him to be cold and arrogant in his
manner Cat least towards him. and cynical
in his views of the world, and finding no con-
geniality in such companion, troubled him
self little about him.


Mrs. Barstow saw her sons unhappiness
with deep pain. She frequently tried to
draw him into confidential conversation on
the subject of his trouble, at which she only
guessed, for not one word had he ever breath
ed to her of his love- She believed that in
opening his heart to her he would find relief.
All through his wayward boyhood and youth
he had made practice Of appealing to her
for sympathy, and this she had always given
him in full measure. But now it was differ
ent. He had grown silent and reserved, and
seemed determined to keep his grief, whatev-
er it might be, locked up from every human
eye.


At last she could bear his reticence no
longer, and one evening, when he had sat tor
some time motionless, pretending to read, but
as she observed, never once turning the page
of the book over which he leaned, or varying
his fixed and absent gaze, she suddenly threw
down her work, and coming to him laid her
hands upon his shoulders and kissed him.


"My boy, my own boy" she said, fondly,
"tell me all about it, 1t kills me to see you
going on in this way"


"What do you mean, mother ?" he asked !;
L,+ Ii, fooo ebouod that he know her intent
in asking.


II mean that you are hiding some great
trouble from me, Ralph from me, who would
give my life to make you happy. Have you
not always yielded me your confidence !?
What have done to make you think me un-
worthy Of it now?"


:'That is nonsense, mother how could l
ever think you unworthy of it?" he rejoined.
He had made a slight movement to with
draw from her hands, but she did not notice
it, and only put one arm around his neck in
stead. She meant to win him by tenderness
she would not suffer herself to be rebufed.


"Then give it to me-glve it to me, my
son." she pleaded. II am your best friend
you we'll know how love you. Tell me
what it is that weighs so heavily upon you"


"Many things weigh upon me" he replied ;
"hard work with scanty pay, the difficulty of
making earnings cover expenses, and, above
all, the wretchedness of seeing you persist, as
YOU do, in killing yourself with sewing
must not the knowledge of all this oppress