Year: 1873

Wy uSA iuOtuSl t'uo a. W q J , ASpui -
ed the rich presents which were
showerod upon her.


Among all who paid court to
Dora, I feared only one, the young,
rich, handsome, aud accomplished
! Count Ernest Won Walters, who
pressed his suit with unremitting
ardor. What chance had the poor
clown against this man? Yet l
! fancied If he were only out Of the
way need not despair of winning
her. Did she not love my sister,
and had she not often spoken kind
ly to me, and praised my acting and
singing? But this day [ had learn
cd the worst-that her kindness
to me sprang only from gentle
and friendly feeling for the broth
er of the cir! she had learned to
love like a sister, and that she had
promised to become the wifo Of
| Count Won Walters. What won
der that I went to my dgings
with despair in my heart:


My little sister exerted herself
to make things cheerful in our
quiet sittlng-room, she suspected
nothing Of the real cause of my
downheartedness, for she, my
confidant in everything else, had
never been intrusted with the Sc
cret Of my love for Dora; and in
tthe hope of drawing me out Of my
moody silence, prattIcd on about a
number of unimportant matters.
She was Interrupted by a knock at
the door, followed by the entrance
of our landlady. The good soul
apologized for: coming in at so late
an hour, but the postman had
brou ght letter for me just after
we had left for the theatre, and as
It bore a foreign postmark, she
thought It might be important |
should get it that evening. |
thanked her mechanically, but a
glance at the postmark caused me
| to tear the letter open with ca.
ger and trembling fingers; for I
| had often heard my father speak
of an only brother who had settled
in England in early youth, and
from whom vague reports came,
from time to time, of a successful
mercantile career. The letter
was postmarked London, and the
heavy black border lines told tho
story before the seal was broken.
NV uncle was dead. I1c had nev-
er married, and on his dcath-bed,
remembered his only brother, he
had left all his wealth to him or
his children. For o moment l ielt
stunned and faint; and Ada, throw
ing her arms about my neck, beg
| ged me to tell her what bad news
was in my letter to make me look
| so strange and palc. l took her
on my knee, and told her we were
rich, and would have no more need
to act in the theatre. We would
leave this miserable little town
and go to Berlin.


To my surprise, Ada again put
| her arms about my neck, and
whispered softly, "Need we leave
the theatre Immediately, dear
brother.?"


"No, child" said I, wondering
what she could mean "but tell
me why you should want to stay
another day. when you can leave
at once and be free from this sla-
yery?"


"Because, dear brother" she an
swered, hesitating and blushing,
"Frauiein Dora told me l was a
great deal prottier than she was,
and a better dancer; and that l
should have the first place in the
new dance they are to put on the
stage next week. Oh, would
like to have such a triumph once! !!
1t would be such a pleasant way
to say good-by to the stage"


I could deny her nothing, my
little sister; and though for me it
was like going into the torture
room of the lnquisition to enter
the theatre and see Count Ernest
on such familiar terms with Dora,
I consented for the present to con-
ceal my good fortune from our
friends, and 60 on just the same as
if nothing had happened.
! The eventful evening came at
length. The play was interspersed
with ballet-dancing, and was to
end with q grand transformation
scene in which Ada and Dora
were to rise as sea nymphs, in q
| shell-like Car, from the waters OF
a mimic lake. It so happened
that, just before the last scene,
! went in to the room underneath
the stage, where the machinery
for raising the car was placed, i'm.
PEELED by strange fereboding OF
impending misfortune, to assure
myself that everything was in or
der; and that no preca auto q
against accident had been neglec
ted. There T found the mas
ter machinist, d ark and
gloomy visaged man, standing by
the car, muttering to himself IN IN
an undertone, "Better she should
die than marry the Count. He
has bewitchcd her, as he does al
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