Year: 1870

NHS. Au'bheIuOIe, ne must DC Iud8-
unanimous to all that great multitude
who were his interiors, and particularly
must he be fastidiously decor Gus and
tender in his treatment of women. All
these things he did or refrained from
doing, not only out of good instincts
towards others, but out of respect for
himself.


On the whole, be was a worthy and
even admirable specimen of the genus
young man. No doubt he was conceit.
cd; he often offended people by his
bumptiousness Of opinion and hateur
of manner he rather depressed the
human race by the severity with which
he classed this one and that one as
"no gentleman" because Of slight de-
fects in etiguettei he considerably
amused older and wearier minds by
the confidence with which he settled
vexed questions of several thousand
years standing; but with all these
faults, no was a better and wiser and
more agreeable fellow than one often
meets at his age; he was youth whom
man could respect and woman adore
To noble souls it must be agreeable, ]
think, to see him at the present moment,
anxious to know precisely what sorrows
had clouded the life of his betrothed in
the old house before him, and yet re-
framing from questioning her on the al
Turing subject, "because he was a gen.
tleman."


The house itself kept its secret ad-
mirably. 1t had not a signature of
character about it; it was as non-com-
initial as an available candidate for the
Presidency it exhibited the plain, un-
ornamental, unpoetic reserve of Yam
kee Puritan. Whether it were stage
for comedy or tragedy, whether it were
a palace for happy souls or prison for
afflicted ones, it gave not even a dark
ling hint.


A sufficiently spacious edifce, but
low of stature and with long slope of
back root, it reminded one Of stocky
and round-shouldered old farmer, like
those who daily trudged by it to and
from the market Of Hampstead, having
and geeing their fat cattle with lear
hard voices. A front door, sheltered by
a small portico, opened into a hall which
led straight through the building, with
a parlor aud bedroom on one side, and
a dining-room and kitchen on the other.
In the rear was a low wing serving as
wash-house, lumber-room, and wood
shed. The white clapboards and green
blinds were neither freshly painted nor
rusty, but just sedately weather-worn.
The grounds, the long woodpies, the
barn and its adjuncts, were all in that
state of decent slovenliness which pre-
walls amid the more rustic farming
population of New England. On the
whole, the place looked like the abode
of one who had made a fair fortune by
half century or more of laborious and
economical though not enlightened ag-
riculture.


IL must leave you now," said Fos-
ter, when the two reached the gate Of
the "front-yard' II must get back to
my work in Hampstead"


"And you won't come in for a min
ute I" pleaded Bessie.


"You know that l would be glad to
come in and stay in for ever and ever.
1t seems now as if life were made for
nothing but talking to you. But my
fellow men no doubt think differently.
There are such things as lectures, and
l must prepare few of them. Ireally
have pressing work to do"


What he furthermore had in his mind
was, 81 am bound as a gentleman TO do
it,; but he RETAINED from saying that;
he was conscious that he sometimes
said it too much; little by little be was
learning that he was bumptious, and
that he ought not be.


"And you will come tomorrow ="
still urged Bessie, grasping at the next
best thing to to-day.


"Yes, | shall walk out. This driv-
ing every day won't answer, on a pro-
fessor's salary" he added, swelling
his chest over this grand confession Of
poverty. "Besides, l need the exer-
cise."


"How good of you to walk SO far
merely to see mel" exclaimed the
humble little beauty.


Until he came again she brooded
over the Joys Of being his betrothed,
and over the future, the far greater Joy
of being his wife. Was not this high
hope in love, this confidence in the
promises of marriage, out of place in
Bessiei She has daily before her, in
the mutual sayings and doings of her
grandfather and his spouse, woful in-
stance of the jarring way in which the
chariot wheels of wedlock may run.
Squire Tom Lauson does not get on
angeliCally with his second wife. Ii
is reported that she finds existence with
him the greatest burden that she has
ever yet borne, and that she testifes to
her disgust with it in a fashion which il
at times startlingly dramatic. If We
arrive at the Lauson house on the day
following the dialogue which has beer
reported, we shall witness one OF heI
most effective exhibitions.


1t is raining violently; an old-fash-
ioned blue-light Puritan thunderstorm
is raging over the Barham hills; the
binding flashes are instantaneously fol.
lowed by the deafening peals the all
is full Of sublime terror and danger
But to Mrs. Squire Lauson the tempest