Year: 1873

Adu never SusIcd " any EhCot OAtChe AZ
the frivolities of the court, she had
lived in its atmosphere, and the utter
seclusion of her country home preyed
upon her health and spirits. She ought
to have been happy. Reason says yes,
but Fact says no. Many have been vir-
tuous, but none have ever been or can
be happy because they ought. Serena
drooped; and, when she had been ten
years Lady Daneham. and was twenty
nine years old, she possessed little of the
beauty, and none of the vivacity, which
had been hers at nineteen.


The kind Providence sent her another
child, and on this infant were poured
forth all the treasures of affection which
for so long had no outlet. What TO
her mattered now disturbances in poll
ties or differences in religion? Was not
the child always the same? What cared
she for the growing discomfort of the
nation with the court and its ways,
while dwelling in the pure air of her
home and the light of her baby's smiles?
What was it to her that public conf
dence was shaken, while little Lionel
took his first steps in safety? What
signifed the license of the rich and the
misery of the poor, while the young
lord of Daneham ate well and slept
soundly? Thoughts and cares were CEN
tired on the one loved object alone, and
for two years she enjoyed her bliss un-
distured. Then came change, but not
yet to her. The dark February MORN
ing, when the name of the courteous
living; the morning that filled with dis
may the crowd of courtiers, favorites,
and sycophants, that thronged White
hall, and filled with ambitious hopes
the mind of him who paid SO dread a
price for his ambition, brought her 30
grief; she cared little. whether son or
brother of the departed monarch filed
the vacant throne, and was scarcely
reused by the impending shadow of war
that came creeping over the land.



The story of the fatal rebellion of
1855 is too well known to be here dwelt
on. The short struggle of Monmouth,
the darling of the people, for power; his
total overthrow, and the terrible ven-
geance taken on him and his adherents,
are familiar to all. But momentous
events never seem so great to those en-
gagged in them as to those who contem-
plate them afar off, or view them by the
light of aftertimes; and the peace of
Daneham was scarcely shaken by the
storm that briefly but fercely ragged
around it; its lord was on the safe side,
and its lady dwelt in safety. She had
heard in her quiet the echo of the riot
of Sedgemoor; she had listened to the
joyous peals OF the Chedzoy bells; she
had shed pitying tear for the fate OF
the deluded and unhappy leader, and
had done all in her power (alas, but lit
tie could be doDeD for the relief of the
suferings of his wretehed followers
nearer home. The war was over. Nc
one then knew that a yet darker tragedy
was still to come


1t was an August morning, bright and
fair. Sir Lionel had been summoned tc
London on important business, and the
lady of Daneham was alone. She was
in the garden with her boy and his nurse
when she was distured by the coming o.
one of the men-servants with fear in his
looks.


"My lady," he stammered, "there are
two men without who desire admittance
but, o my lady! let them not in, for
think they be rebels"


"Thou art but lying knave," saic
the lady. "What should rebels do a


Daneham? Is not thy master faithful
subject of the king?"


"They are worn and weary, my lady


and travel-soiled. They look not like


honest men on lawful business. The


elder bade me deliver this token; and


though fear to give it, / dare not keel


it back. Omy lady! receive them not


The Tangier Regiment lies at Taunton


and they say their leader is a fearful


man, son of Satan; and these are no


times to run into needless danger"


The lady of Daneham had turned


shade paler.


"Who told thee the Lambs were a
| nI hour


of their leader?" she asked of the man


He was an old and tried servant, so hi


freedom went unreproved.


"My lady, Colonel Kirke's name ha


come before him, and they say he


making it good. L have heard it is be


lieved one SO cruel could never hav


been born of woman and lain on


mothers breast. The stories I hav


heard are not fitting to be told you


ladyship, but"


"Peacei"


The lady of Daneham struck her han
to her heart, and gave a sudden gas


and cry; she had opened the little packe
which till now had lain unnoticed i
her hand. The attendants did not Sc
what it contained, but they did see tn
ghostly change that came over the fac
of their mistress. The blood recede
from her cheeks, and left her ashe
pale, and, though she tried hard
compose herself and to speak, ht
trembling lips uttered no sound.
at is as feared" said the old mai
"My lady, think we'll. Tell me to sen
the men away; do not see them, for God
I sakep'


az will not see, them, Matthew. Civ
l them this line"


1 She wrote few words on the tab
: that hung at her waist, folded Il
parchment, and gave it to the man; the
followed by the nurse, took her way t
: ward the house.


!, The servant returned to those WI
g waited for him, but his rectitude w
! not proof against his curiosity.
e He opened the parchment; it contai
u ed these few words: