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ROBERTSON'S CHEAP SERIES.

POPULAR READING AT POPULAR PRICES^

ROS

OND

OR,

THE YOUTHFUL ERROR.

■ ■■!'' f
: .if

— BY-

MARY J. HOLMES,

Author of Lena Rivers — Tempest and Sunsliine — Meadow Brook — English Orphans, etc

C O Mr L E 7 F.

T E N T :
J. ROSS ROBERTSON, 55 KINQ-ST. WEST, COR BAY.

1881,

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no s-A-DvconsriD.

CHAPTER 1.

THE OWNER OK RIVERSIDE.

All the day long the September rain had
fallen, and when the night closed in it show-
ed no sign of weariness, but with the same
monotonous patter dropped upon the roof, or
beat against the windows of the pleasantly
lighted room where a young man sat gazing
at the glowing grate, and listf ning appar-
ently to the noise of the storm without. But
neither the winds, nor yet the i-ain, had a
part of that young man's thoughts, for they
were with the past, and the chain which
linked them to that past was the open letter
which lay on the table beside him. For that
letter he had waited long and anxiously,
wondering what it would contain, and if his
overtures for reconciliation with one who
had erred far more than himself, would be
accepted. It had come at last, and with a
gathering coldness at his heart he had read
the decision — ' she would not be reconciled,'
and she bade him 'go his way alone and leave
her to herself. '

• It is well,' he said ; 'I shall never trouble
her again ' — and with a feeling of relief, as if
a heavy load, a dread of coming evil, had been
taken from his mind, he threw the letter
upon the table, and leaning back in his cush-
ioned chair, tried to fancy that the last few
years of his life were blotted out.

' Could it be so, Ralph Browning would
be a different man, ' he said aloud ; then, as
he glanced round the richly furnished room,
he continued — 'People call me happy. Why
was it suffered to be, and must I make a life-
long atonement for that early sin ?'

In his excitement he arose, and crushing
the letter for a moment in his ha- d,
hurled it into the fire ; then, going to his
private drawer, he took out and opened a
neatly folded package, containing a long
tress of jet black hair. Shudderingly he
wound it around his fingers, laid it over
the l)ack of his hand, held it up to the light,
ftud then with a hard, dark look upon his

face, threw it, too, upon the grate, sa>iiii,'
aloud. ' Thus perisheth every mementi)
of the past, and I am free again— free as
air !'

He walked to the window, and pressing
his burning forehead against the cool, damp
pane, looked out upon the night. He could
not see through the iUukness, but had it
been day, hi^ eye would have rented on
broad acres all his own ; for Ralph Brown-
ing was a wealthy man, and tlie house in
which he lived was his i)y right of inherit-
ance from a bachelor uncle for whom he ha«l
been named, and who, two years before oui
story opens, had <iied, leaving to his nephew
the grand old place, called Riverside, from
its nearness to the river. It was a most
beautiful spot ; and when its new master
first took possession of it, the maids and
matrons of Granby, who had mourned for
the elder Browning as people mourn for a
good man, felt themselves somewhat con-
soled from the fact that his successor was
young and handsome, and would doubtless
prove an invaluable acquisition to their fire-
side circles, and furnish a theme for gossip,
without which no village can well exist. But
in the first of their expectations they were
mistaken, for Mr. Browning shunned rather
than sought society, and spent the most of
his leisure hours in the seclusion of his lib-
rary, where, as Mrs. Peters, his housekeeper,
said, he did nothing but mope over books
and walk the floor. ' He was melancholy, '
she said ; ' there was something workin' on
his mind, and what it was she didn't know
more'n the dead — though she knew as well
as she wanted to that he had been crossed
in love for what else would make so many
of his hairs grey, and he not yet twenty-
five !'

That there was a mystery connected with
him was conceded by most of the villagers,
and many a curious gaze they bent upon the
grave, dignified young man, who seldom
joined in their pastimes or intruded himself
upon their company. Much sympathy was
expressed for him in hit loneliness, by the

ROSAMOND.

people of (Jranby, and more than one young
gill wouUl ghuUy have imposed upon herself
the task of clieering that loneliness, hut he
seemed pcifectly invulncni'ile to maiden
charms ; ami when Mrs. I'eters, as she of*^en
did, urged him ' to take a wife and l)e some-
body,' he answered (luu-tly, '1 am content to
follow the example vi my uncle. I shall
prol)ably never marry.'

Still h(! was lonely in his great house — so
lonely thai, tli^igh it liurt his pride to doit,
he wrote tlie letter, tlie answer to winch
excited him so terribly, and awoke witlnn
his mind a train of tlioiiglit no absorbing and
intense, tliat he did not iiear the sununons
to supper until Mrs. Peters put her head
into the room, asking ' if he were deaf or
what '!'

Mrs. Peters had been in the elder IJrown-
ing's household for years, and when the new
owner came, she still continued at her post,
and exercised over her young master a kind
of motherly care, which he permitted be-
cause he knew her real worth, and that
without her his home would be uncomfort-
able indeed. On the occasion of which we
write, Mrs. Peters was unusually attentive,
and to a person 1*0 all skilled in female tac-
tics, it was evident tliat she was about to ask
afavoiir, aud had made preparations accord-
ingly. His favourite watlles had been but-
tered exactly right, the peaclies and cream
were delicious — the fragrant black tea was
neither too strong nor too weak — the fire
blazed brightly in tlie grate — the light from
the chandelier fell softly upon the massive
silver service and damask cloth ; — and with
all.these creature comforts around him, it is
not strange that he forgot the letter and the
tress of hair which so lately had blackened
on the coals. The moment was propitious,
and by the time he had finished his second
cup, Mrs. Peters said, ' I have something to
propose. '

Leaning back in his chair, he looked in-
quiringly at her, and she continued : ' You
remember Mrs. Lefton, the poor woman
who had seen better days, and lived in East
Granby ?'

•Yes.' . '

' You know she has been sick, and you
gave me leave to carry her anything I
chose ?'
., 'Yea.'

* Well, she's dead, poor thiner, and what
IS worse, she hain't no connection, nor never
had, and her little daughter Rosamond hain't
a place to lay her head. '

' Let her come and sleep with you, then, '
said Mr. Browning, rattling his spoon upon
the edge of his cup.

' Yes, and what'U she do days ?' continued

Mrs. Peters. ' 8ho can't run the streets,
that's so ; now, I don't believe no great in
ehihlren, and you certaiidy don't b'lieve in
'em at all, nor your poor uncle before you :
but Rosamond ain't a ciiihl ; site's tldrteen —
UKJst a woman — and it yon dont nund the
expense, I shan't mind tlio troiilile, and slie
can live here till she finds a place. llei'
mother, you know, took up millinering to
gut a living.'

' Ccirtainly, let her come,' answered Mr.
Browning, who was noted for his benevol-
enee.

Till < matter being thus satisfactorily set*
tied, Mrs. I'eteis arose from tiie table, while
Mr. Browning went back to tin; olden men;-
ories wliicli had haunted hint so mueh tliat
day, and witii which there was not mingled
a single thought of the little Kosamond, who
was to exert so strong an influence upon his
future life.

Wl'i

CHAPTER II.

ROSAMOND LEYTON.

Rosamond had been some weeks at River-
side, and during all that time Mr. Browning
had scarcely noted her at all. On the first
day of her arrival he had spoken kindly to
her, asking her how old she was, and how
long her mother had been dead, and this
was all the attention he had pai<l her. He
did not even yet know the colour of her eyes,
or texture of her hair, — whether it were
curly or straight, black or brown ; but he
knew in various ways that she was there —
knew it by the sound of dancing feet upon
the stairs, which were wont to echo only to
Mrs. Peters' heavy thread— knew it by the
tasteful air his room suddenly assumed — by
the ringing laugh and musical songs which
came from the kitchen, and by the thousand
changes which the presence of a merry-heart-
ed girl of thirteen brings to a hitherto silent
house. Of him Rosamond stood consider-
ably in awe, and though she could willingly
have worshipped him for giving her so
pleasant a home, she felt afraid of him and
kept out of his way, watching him with
childish curiosity at a distance, admiring his
nolde figure, and wondering if she would
ever dare speak to him as fearlessly as Mrs.
Peters did.

From this woman Rosamond received all
a mother's care and though the name of her
lost parent was often on her lips, she was
beginning to be very happy in her new home,
when one day towards the middle of October
Mrs. Peters told her that Mr. Browning's
only sister, a Mrs. Van Vechten, who lived
South, was coming to Riverside, together

ROSAMOND.

ler eyes,
it were
but he
there —
et upon
onlv to
t by the
ed — by
which
Ihoiisand
y-heart-
,0 silent
onsider-
illingly
her so
im and
im with
ring his
e would
as Mrs.

lived all
ie of her
I she was
liv home,
I October
pwning's
10 lived
together

with her son Bon The lady Mrs. Peters
iiad never seen, but Ben, who was at school
in Albany, had spent a vacation there, and
she de8cril)ed him as a 'great, good-natured
fool,' who cared fur nothing but dogs, cigars,
fust horses and ])retty girls.

Kosaniond pushed Ijack the stray curls
which liad fallen over face, glanced at tlie
cracked mirror which gave her (ivo noses in-
stead of one,and thinking to herself,* 1 wun-
der if he'll care for me, ' listened attentively
while Mrs. Peters continued — ' This Miss
Van Vechten is a niiglity fin*; lady, tliey say,
aid has liwip-s of ni}.'gers to wait on her at
lionie — but slie can't brings 'cm here, for I
^^iloul^l set' em free — that's so. I don't
b'lieve in't. What was I sayin' ? Oh, I
!inow, she can't wait on lierscli, and wrote
to have her brotlior get some one. He asked
jne if you'd be willin' to put her clothes,
wash her face, and hhciic her victuals like
enougli.'

'Mr. Browning never said tliat,' inter-
rupted Rosamond, and Mrs. Pcti rs replied
— ' Weil, not that exactly, but he wants you
to wait on her generally. '

' I'll do anytaiuii nja-sonable, ' answered
Rosamond. ' Wlien will she be here ?'

'In two or three «lays, ' isuiil Alr.s. Peters,
'and I must hurry, (jr I shan't liave them
north chand)ers ready for her. Ben am't
coming quite so soon. '

The cwo or tiiree days passed rapid-
ly and at the close of the tlnrd a carriage
laden with trunks stopped before tRe gate at
Riverside, and Mrs. Van Vechten had come.
She was a thin, sallow-faced, proud-looking
woman, wholly unlike her brother, whose
senior she was by many years. She had
seen nuich of tlie world, and that she was
conscious of her own fancied suj)eriurity
was perceptible in every movement. She
was Mrs. Richard Van Vechten, of Alabama
— one of the oldest families in the state. Her
deceased husband had been United States
Seiuitor— she had been to Europe — had seen
the Queen on horseback — liad passed the
residence of the Duchess of Sutherland, and
when Rosamond Leyton appeared before her
in her neatly-litting dress of black and asked
what she coukl do for her, she elevated her
eyebrows, and coolly surveying the little
girl, answered haughtily, 'Comb out my
hair. '

' Yes,l will,' thought Rosamond, who had
taken a dislike to the grand lady, and suit-
ing the action to the thought, she did comb
out her hair, pulling it so unmercifully that
]ilrs. Van Vechten angrily bade her stop.

' Look at me, gu'l, ' said she ; did you ever
assist at any one's toilet before ?*

'I've hooked Mrs. Peters' dress and pinned

on Bridget s coUai-, ' answered Rosamoml,
her great brown eyes brinnning witli mis-
chiet.

' Disgusting !' returned Mrs. Van Vechten
— ' I should suppose Ralph would know bet-
ter than to get me such an iguuramus.
NVere you liired on purpose to wait on me ?'

'Wity, no, ma'am — I live here,' answered
Rosamond.

* Live liere !' repeated Mrs. Van Vechten,
• and pray, wluit do you do ?'

' Nothing nnioh, unless I choose, ' said
Rosamond, who being a great pet witli Mrs.
Peters and the other servants, really led a
vei-y easy life at Rivevsule.

Looking curiously into the frank ooen face
of the young girl, Mrs. Van Vechten
concluded she was never intended to
take a negro's place, and with a
wave of her iiand siie said, ' You may go ; I
can dress myself alone.'

That evening, as the brother and sister sat
together in the parlour, tlie latter suddenly
asked, ' Who is that Rosamontl Leyton, and
what is she doing here ?'

Mr. Browning t Id her all he knew of the
girl, and she cuntnuied, ' Do you intend to
educate her?'

' Ediicite her !' said he — ' what made you
think of that ?'

' Because, ' she answere I, Avith a sarcastic
smile, ' as you expect to do penance the rest
of your lifetime, 1 did not know but you
would deem it your duty to educate every
beggar who came along. '

The idea of educating Rosamond Leyton
was new to Mr. Browning, but he did not
tell his sister so — he merely said, ' And sup-
pose I do educate her ?'

* In that case,' answewd the lady, 'Ben
will -not pass his college vacations here, as I
had intended that he should do. '

' And why not?' asked Mr. Browning.

' Why not !' repeated Mrs. Van Vechten.
' Just as though you did not know how sus-
ceptible he is to female beauty, and if you
treat this Rosamond as an equal, it will be
like himto fall in love with her at once. She
is very pretty, you know. '

Mr. Browning did not know any such
thing. In fact, he scarcely knew how the
young girl looked, but his sister's remark
had awakened in him an interest, and after
she had retired, which she did early, he rang
the bell for Mrs. Peters, who soon appeared
in answer to his call.

' Is Rosamond Leyton up?' he asked.

'Yes, sir, ' answered Mrs. Peters, wonder-
ing at the question.

' Send her to me, ' he said, and witl) re-
doubled amazement Mrs. Peters carried tne
message to Rosamond, who was sitting before

■ii?

I SI

ROSAMOND.

the fire, trying in vain to undo an obstinate
knot in hur boot-string;.

• Mr. Browning sent fer me !' ihe ex-
claimed, her ulieoka tluHliing iin. ' Wants
to scold me, I eupposf, tor )»ii!liiig his sis-
ter's hair. I only did what alio told me to,*
and with a beating heart she Ktarted for the
parlour.

Rosamond was afraid of Mr. IJrowniiig,
and feeling sure that he intended to reprove
her, she took the chair nearest to the door,
and covering her face with her hands, be-

fan to cry, saying — 'It was ugly in me, I
now, to pull Mrs. Van Vechteu's hair, and
I did it on purpose, too ; but I won't do so
again, I certainly won't.'
II Mr. Browning was confounded. This was

the first intimation he had received of the
barbaric performance, and for a moment he
t remained silent, gazing at the little girl.
Her figure was verv slight, her feet and
hands were very small, and her hair, though
disordered now and rough, was of a beauti-
ful brown, and fell in heavy curls around
her neck. He saw all this at a glance, but
her face, the point to which his attention
was cliiefly directed, he could not see until
those little hands were removed, and as a
means of accomplisihing this he at last said,
kindly — 'I do not understand you, Rosa-
mond. My sister has entered no complaint,
and I did not send for you to censure you.
I wish to talk with you — to get acquainted.
Will you come and nit by me upon the
Bofa?'

Rosamond's hands came down from
her face, but she did not leave her
leat ; neither did Mr. Browning now
wish to have her, for the light of the chand-
elier fell full upon her, giving him a much
better view of her features than if she had
been nearer to him. If, as Mrs. Peter* had
Baid, Ben Van Vechten was fond of pretty

g'rls, he in a measure inherited the feeling
om his uncle, who was an ardent admirer
of the beautiful, and who now felt a clow of
satisfaction in knowing that Rosamond Ley-
ton was pretty. It was a merry, sparkling,
little face which he looked upon, and though
the nose did turn up a trifle, and the mouth
rather wide, the soft, brown eyes, and ex-

?[ui8itely fair complexion made ample amends
or all. She was never intended for a men-
ial — she would make a beautiful woman —
and with thoughts similar to these, Mr.
Browning, after completing his survey of her
person, said — ' Have you been to school
much ?'

' Always, until I came here, ' was her
answer ; and he continued — ' And since then
you have not looked in a book, I suppose?'
The brown eyes opened wide as Rosamond

replied, — 'Why, yes I have. I've read ev»r
so much in your library when you were goiu-
Mrs. Peters told me I might,' she added
hastily, as she saw his look of surprise, and
mistook it for displeasure.

' I am perfectly willing,' he said; 'but
what have you read ? Tell me. *

Rosamond was interested atonce,and while
her cheeks glowed apd her eyes sparkled,8he
replied — ' Oh I've read Shakespeare's Hi8t«jr-
icul Plays, every one of them — and Childe
Harold, and Watt's on the Mind, and Kenil-
worth, and now I'm right in the middle of
the Lady of the Lake. Wasn't Fitz-Janies
the King? I believe he was. Wlien I am
older I mean to write a book just like that.'

Mr. Browning could not forbear a smile at
her enthusiasm, but without answering her
question, he said, — 'What do you intend to
do until you are old enough ?'

Rosamoi d's countenance fell, and after
tapping her foot upon the carpet awhile, she
said, 'Mrs. Peters will get me a place by-
and-by, and I s'pose I'll have to be a mil-
liner. '

' Do you wish to be one ?'

' Why, no ; nor mother didn't either, but
after father died she had to do something.
Father was a kind of a lawyer, and left her
poor. '

' Do you wish to go away from here, Rosa-
mond !'

There were tears on the long- fringed eye-
lashes as the young girl replied, ' No, sir ;
I'd like to live here always, but there's noth-
ing for me to do. '

' Unless you go to school. How would like
that?'

' I have no one to pay the bills, ' and the
curly head shook mournfully.

' But I have money, Rosamond, and sup-
pose I say that you shall stay here and go
to school ?'

' Oh, sir, will vou say so ? May I live
with you always ? and forgetting her fear of
him in her great joy, Ifeosamond Leytcn
crossed over to where he sat, and laying both
her hands upon his shoulder, continued —
' Are you in earnest, Mr. Browning ? May
I stay ? Oh, I'll be so good to you when you
are old and sick !'

It seemed to her that he was old enough to
be her father then, and it almost seemed so
to him. Giving her a very paternal
look, he answered, ' Yes, child, you shall
stay as long as you like ; and now go, or Mrs.
Peters will be wondering what keeps you. '

Rosamond started to leave the room, but
ere she reached the door she paused, and
turning to Mr. Browning, said, ' You have
made me so happy, and I like you so much,
I wish you'd let me kiss your hand — may I?'

ROSAMOND.

but

It was a strange question, and it sent tlio
bluod tingling to the very tips of Mr. Brown-
ing's fingers.

• Wi»y, ye-es.l don't knu«r. What made
you think of that ♦' he saitl, and Rosamond
replied, — ' I always kissed father when he
made mo very happy. It wa« all I could
do.'

'But I am not your father,' stammered
Mr. Browning ; ' I shall not be twenty-five
until November. Still you can do as you
please. '

• Not twenty- five yet?' repeated Rosa-
mo. jd ; * why, I thought vou were nearer
forty. I don't believe I'd better, though I
like you just as well. Good night. '

He heard her go through the hall, up the
Btaira, through the upper" hall, and then all
was still again.

' What a strange little creature she is, ' he
thought ; • so childlike and frank, but how
queer that she should ask to kiss me !
Wouldn't Susan be shocked if she knew it,
and u on 't she be horrified when I tell her
I am going to educate the girl. And sup-
pose Ben does fall in love with l;er. If he
knew a little more, it would not be a bad
match. Somebody must keep up our family,
or it will become extinct. Susan and I are

the only ones left, and I ' here he paused,

and starting to his feet, he paced the floor
hurriedly, nervously, as if seeking to escape
from some pursuing evil. ' It is terrible,' he
whispered, * but I can bear it and will,' and
going to his room he sought his pillow to
dream strange dreams of tresses black, and
ringlets brown, — of tierce, dark eyes, and
shining orbs, whose owner had asked to kiss
his hand, and mistaken him for her sire.

CHAPTER III.

bsn's visit.

The next morning, as Mrs. Van Vechten
was slowly making her toilet alone, there
came a gentle rap at her door, and RDsa-
mond Leytou appeared, her face fresh and
blooming as a rosebud, her curls brushed
back from her foreheati. and her voice very
respectful, as she saiil — ' I have come to ask
your iiardon for my roughness yesterday.
I can do better, and if you will let me wait
on you while you stay, I am sure I shall
please you. '

Mrs. Van Vechten could not resist that
appeal, and she graciously accepted the
girl's offer, asking her tlie while what
had made the change in liar behaviour. Al-
ways frank arid tivitliful, Rosamond ex-
plained to the lady that Mi. i-irowning's

kindness had filled her with gratitude and
determined her to do as she hud done. To
her Mrs. Van Vechten said nothing, but
when she met her brotiiiT at the bn akfast
table, there was an ominous frown upon her
face, and the moment they were alone she
ifave him her opinion without reservtv But
Mr. Hrowning was firm. ' He should have
something to live for,' he said, 'and Heaven
only knew the lonely hours he passed witli
no object in which to be interested. Her
family, though unfortunate, are highly res-
pectable, ' he added, ' and if I can make her
a useful ornament in society, it is my duty
to do so. '

Mr. Van Vechten knew how useless it
would be to remonstrate with him, and she
gave up the contest, mentally resolving that
' Ben sliould not p.ass his college vacations
there. '

When the villagers learned that Mr.
Browning intended to educate Rosamond
and treat her as his equal, they ascribed it
wholly to the influence of his sister, who, of
course, had suggested to him an act which
seemed every way right and proper. They
did not know how the lady opposed it, nor
how, for many days, she maintained a cold
reserve toward the young girl, who strove in
various ways to conciliate her, and at last
succeeded so far that she not only accepted
her services at her toilet, but even asked of
her sometimes to read her to sleep in the
afternoon, a process neither long nor ted-
ious, for Mrs. Van Vechten was not literary
and by the time the second page was reached
she usually nodded her full acciuiescence to
the author's opinions, and Rosamond was
free to do as she pleased.

One afternoon when Mrs. Van Vechten
was fast asleep, and Rosamond deep in the
' Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner,' (the form-
er having selected that poem as an opiate
because of its musical jingle,) there was the
sound of a bounding step upon the stairs,
accompanied by the stirring notes of Yankee
Doodle, which some one whistled at the top
of his voice. Rosamond was about going to
see who it was, when the door opened and
disclosed to view a long, lank, light-haired,
good-natured looking youth, dressed in the
extreme of fashion, with a huge gold chain
dangling across liis vest, and an immense
diamond ring upon his little finger. Tiiis last
he managed to show frequently by caressing
his chin, where, by the aid of a microscope, a
very little ilown might possibly have been
found ! Tliis was Ben I He had just arrived,
and learning that his mother was in her
room, had eiitei-ed it unceremoniously. The
unexpected apparition of a beautiful young
girl startled him, and he introduced himself

;kM,

ROSAMOND.

to her good graces l)y tlie very oxprewivo
»'x<'lftiiialion, 'Thunder! 1 beg your piinhm,
Mii's,' he c(tiitir(Ui'(l, a» he met her .surpriHe<l
and reproving glaiioe. 'You BCiired ine ho I
diihrt know wliiit else to Ba,Y. It's a favour-
ite exjdTHsion of mine, but I'll (|uit it, if you
say so. I>o you live here?'

' I wait u))on y(Hir mother,' was the quiet
answer, whicli came near wringing from tlie
youDi; nuiu a repetition of the oil'unaive
woni.

Ihit he remembered himself in time, and
then continued, ' How ilo you know she's
my mother ? You are right, though. I'm
Ben \'an Yeehten — the veriest dolt in
Hchncd, tney say. lint, as an otl'sct, I've got
a lieart as big as an ox ; and now, who are
you? I know you are not a waiting-maid I'
Rosamond explained who she was, and
then, rather pleased with his off-hand nian-
ner, began to cjuestior. him concerning his
journey, and ho forth. Ben was delighted.
It was not every girl who would of her own
accord talk to him, and sitting down beside
her, he told her twice that she was hand-
some, was cautiously win<ling his arm around
her waist, when from tiie rosew<K)d led-
8tea<l there came the sl)arp, (j'lick word,
• Benjamin !' and, unmindful of JJosamond's
presence, Ben leaped into the middle of the
room, ejaculating, ' Thunder ! motiier what
do you want?'

' I want her to leave the room, ' said Mrs.
Van Vechten, i)ointing toward Rosamoiid,
who, wholly ignorant of the nature of her
ofl'ence, retreated hastily, wondering how
she had di.spleased the capricious lady.

Although Ben Van Vechten would not
have dared to do a thing in direct opposi-
tion to his mother's commands, he was not
ordinarily afraid of her, and he now listened
impatiently, while she told him that llosa-
mond Leyton was not a fit associate for a
young man like himself, ' She was a sort of
nobody, whom her brother had undertaken
to educate,' she said, 'and though she
might be rather pretty, she was low-born
and vulgar, as any one coi^ld see. '

Ben confessed to a deficiency of eye-sight
on that point, and then, as his mother
showfed no signs of changing tlie conversa-
tion, he left her abruptly, and sauntered off
into the garden, where he came suddenly
upon Rosamond, who was finishing the An-
cient Mariner in the summer-house, her
favorite resort.

'So we've met again,' said he, 'and a
pretty loct ire I've had on your account.'

' Why on my account ?' asked Rosamond ;
and Ben, who never kept a thing to himself,
told her in substance all his mother Ixad
said.

' She ttlwavB wakes in the wrong time,'
le, ' and t "

' Spunky,
that. But
I've no no-
mother does

wakes
said he, 'and she saw mu just as I was ab lut
to givt' you a little bit of a hug — so '—and
he proceeded todi^moiiHtrate.

Kosamond'H temper was up, and cipially
indignant at mother and son, she started to
her teet, exclaiming, 'I'd thank you, sir to
let III*! alone. '

'W'hew-ew, ' whistled lion,
ain't you. Now I rather like
pray, don't burst a blood vessel.
ti(»ii of making love to you, if
think so. You are too small a girl.

'Too small a «irl,' repeated Rosamond,
scornfully. 'I'm fourteen to-morrow — ((uite
too old to be insulted,' and she darted away,
followed l)y the merry laugh of the good-
luiiiKired Ben.

1 wo hours before, Rosamond would not
have been so excited, for though nearly four-
teen, she was in thought and feeling a very
child, as was proved by her asking to kiss
her benefactor's hand ; but Mrs. \ an Vech-
ten's remarks, repeated to her by Ben, had
wrought in her a change, and, in some re-
s))ects, transformed her into a woman at
once. She did not care so much for the
liberties Ben had attempted to take, but his
mother's words rankled in her bosom, awak-
ening within her a feeling of bitter resent-
ment ; ami when, next day, the lady's bell
lang out its summons for her to come, she
sat still upon the door-step and gave no heed.
'Rosamond,' said Mrs. Peters, 'Mrs. Van
Vechten is ringing for you. '

' Let her ring, I 'm not going to wait on her
anymore, 'and Rosamond returned to the
book she was reading.

Meantime, flurried and impatient, the lady
above stairs pulled at the bell-rope, growing
more nervous and angry with every pull,
until at last, as she heard her brother's step
in tlie hall, she went out to him and said, ' I
wisli you'd send that girl to me. I've rung at
lea.st fifty times : and dare say she's enticing
Ben again. 1 knew it would be so. '

Going hurredly down the stairs, Mr.
Browning sought out Rosamond and said to
lier, ' My sister is ringing for you.'

' I know it, sir ;' and the brown eyes,
whicli heretofore had seemed so soft and
gentle, flashed upon him an expression which
puzzled him.

' Thegi why do you not go ?' he asked ; and
theyouiig girl replied, ' I shall not wait upon
her any more.'

' Rosamond !' said Mr. Browning. There
was severity in the tone of his voice, and
Rosamond rouseel at once.

' She says I am vulgar, and low-born, and
have designs upim Ben,' said she, * and it's a
falsehood. My mother was as much a lady

ROSAMOND.

at
•iiig

Mr.

and
ipon

here
and

and
t'sa
lady

i.i »la*. I am not vulear, and T )iate lion,
ind I won't Htay hero if I nuiat wait on hor.
Sluill I ^o awav ?'

If RoH.iindnclUift, tlio life of the lu)U«c
went with htr. This Mr. Hiowning knew ;
Imt man-like, he did not wish to he coiKjuer-
od by a^vonnn, and after (jUrRtioninj,' lier as
to the nature of Mra. Van Vechten'M oUcncc,
lie answered, * My Hiater Hny« 8(»nie foohHli
thinga, 1 know, hut it in my reipicMt th.it
you attend to her while nhe Htaya, and 1 ex-
l)eut to he obeyed.'

'i'in' 1 1st word was unfortunate, for Kowa-
inond iiad a wtrong will of hor own, and tap
|)inj,' her little foot uj)on the ground, hhe
Slid Haucily, ' And Hupposc you are not
()l)eyed ?'

lie did not toll her she must leave Kiver-
sido, hut h(( said, ' Vou munt answer for yoii»'
dirtohedieiieo to me, wlio hav<! certainly Honio
light to control you ;' then, feariiij,' that his
own high teiniicr might he tried, mi.ic than he
cared to have it, hewalkedawayjiist iiitimeto
avoid lutaring her say, ' she oared no more for
him than for his sister !'

Ivosaniund was impulsive not to repent
hitterly of her con 'not ; and though siic per-
siateil in leaving Mrs. Van N'eohten to
herself, and refuseil to speak to lien,
whose face, in coiisoijuence, wore a moat
molaiicholy expression, slie almost cried her-
self sick, and at last, startled Mrs. Peters,
just as that lady was stepping into bed, by
declaring that she must see Mr. Browning
before she slept.

Mr. Browning sat in his library alone. He
did not usually retire early, but this night
he had cause for wakefulness. The burst of
})a88ion ho had witnessed in his protege, had
carried him back to a time when another
than little Rosamond Ley ton had laughed
his wishes to scorn.

' And it is ever thus with them !' he said.
* Are all women furies in disguise? — and
Rosamond seemed so irentle, so good. '

He did not hear the low knock on his
door, for his thoughts were far away in the
south-land, where he had learned his first
lesson of womankind. Neither did he hear
the light footfall upon the floor, but when a
sweet, tearful voice said to him, ' Mr. Brown-
ing, are you feeling so badly for nie?' he
started, and on a hassock at his feet saw
Rosamond Leyton. The sight of her was
unexpected, and it startled him for a mo-
ment, but soon recovering his composure, he
said gently : ' Why are you here ? I sup-
posed you were in bed. '

Rosamond began to cry, and with her
usual impetuosity replied, ' I came to tell
you how sorry I am for behaving so rudely

to you. 1 <lo try to govern my temper so
hard, but it sometimes gets the ni!i.»ttory.
\V(>n't you forgive me, air? It wasn't Kosa-
mond that acted so — it was a vile, wicked
somebody tilse. Will you forgive mo?' nnd
ill her dread that tlu' coveted for;L;ivoiioHH
might b(> withhold, she forgot that he was
only twenty-four, and lai<l Inr luail upon
his kiivo, sobbing like a little child.

* Had she done like tliis, iiow dillcront
would my life have been,' thought Mr
Browning, and involuntarily oaie.ssiiig the
ourly heard, he was about to speak, when
Kosamoiid iiitorrupted liim, saying,

' 1 won't deceive you, Mr. Ih owning, ami
make you think I'm better than 1 am. I
am sorry 1 acted so to you, liut 1 don't be-
lieve I'm sorry .about Mrs. Van Vochteii. I
don't like hor. for sh(( always treats me as
though [ were not near as good us she, and I
oan't wait on her any niore. Must I? Oh,
d n't iiiiiko me,' and slie looked beseeching-
ly into Ills face.

Ho eould not help respecting her for that
inliorn fooling, Mhich would not permit her-
self to betiiimplod (town, and though lie felt
intuitively that slie was liaving hor own way
after all, he assured her of hia forgiveness,
and then added : ' Mrs. Van Vecliton wdl
not recjuiro your services, for she received a
letter to-night, siying her presence was need-
ed at homo, and she leaves us to-morrow. '

* /Vnd Ben?' she asked — 'does he go,
too?'

• He accompanies his mother to New
York,' Mr. Browning said, 'and 1 lielieve
she intends leaving there with a friend, until
his school commences again.'

In spite of herself, Rosamond rather liked
Ben, and feeling that she was the cause of
his banishment from Riverside, her sympa-
thy was enlisted for him, and she said, • If
I were not here, Ben would stay. Hadn't
you rather send me away ?'

'No, Rosamond, no; I need you here,'
was Mr. Browning's reply, and then as the
clock struck eleven, he bade her leave him,
saying it was time children like her were
in bed.

As he had said, Mrs Van Vechten
was going away, and she came down
to breakfast next morning in her
travelling dress, appearing very un-
a^iiable, and looking very cross at Rosa-
mond, with whom she finally parted with-
out a word of reconciliation. Ben on the
contrary was all aflFability, and managed
to speak to her, telling her he should come
there again in spite of his mother.

After their departure the household set-
tled back into its usual monotonous way of
living, with the exception that Rosamond,

liii

ROSAMOND.

)eing proiiioted to the pop* of an equal,
jecatne, in many respects . •- real mistress
or Riverside, though Mrs. j. ^.^rs nominally
held the reins, and aside from superintend-
ing her work, built many castles of the fu-
ture when her protege would be a full grown
woman and her master still young and hand-
some !

CHAPTER IV.

Rosamond's education.

One year has passed away since Mrs. Van
Vechten departed for the South, and up the
locust lined avenue which leads to Riverside,
the owner ol the place is slowly riding. It
is not pleasant going home to-night, and fto
be lingers by the way, wondering why it is
that the absence of a ch'ld should make so
much differ* ^ce 'n one's feelings ! During
the year Roscinicnd had recited her lessons
to him, but with many others he fancied no
girl's education could be finished unless she
were sent away — and two weeks before the
night of which we write he had taken her
himself to Atwater Seminary, a distance of
more than two hundred miles, and then,
with a sense of desolation for which he could
not account, he had returned to his home,
which was never so lonely before. There
was no merry voice within the walls — no
tripping feet upon the stairs — no soft, white
hand to bathe his forehead when suffering
from real or fancied headache — no slippers
waiting by his chair — no flowers on the
mantel — no bright face at the window — no
Rosamond at the door.

Of all this was he thinking that Novem-
ber afternoon, and when at last he reached
his home, he vent straight to his library,
hoping to find a letter there, telling him of
her welfare. But letter there was none, and
with a feeling of disappointment he started
ii^rhe parlour. The door was ajar and he
uf.ught glimpse of a cheerful blazing
xlre within the grate. The shutters, too,
vpre open and the curtains were put back

I'ltst as they used to be when she was there,
t seemed l:ke the olden time, and with
(jpirits somewhat enlivened he advanced into
the room. His favourite chair stood before
the fire, and so near to it that her head was
leaning on its arm, sat a young girl. Her
back was turned toward him, but he knew
that form full well, and ioy fully he cried,
* Rosamond, how came you here ?'

Amid her smiles and tears, Rosamond at-
tempted to tell him the story of her griev-
PDO ^. She was homesick, and she could not
leaiu half so much at the Atwater Seminary
as at home — then too, she hated the straight-

jacket rules, and ha^^ed the lady-boarder,
who pretended to be sick, and wouldn't let
the sciiool girla breathe, especially Rosa-
mond Leyton, for whom she seemed to have
conceived a particular aversion

Pleased as Mr. Browning was to have
Rosamond with him again, he did not quite
like her reasons for coming back, <ind he
questioned her closely as to the cause of her
sudden return.

'I shouldn't have come, perhaps,' said
Rosamond, 'if that sick woman hadn't been
so nervous and disagreeable. She paid
enormous sums for her board, and so 5lrs.
Lindsay would hardly let us breathe for fear
of disturbing her. My room was over hers,
and I had to take off my shoes and walk on
tip- toe, and even then she complained of
me, saying I was rude and noisy, when I
tried so hard to be still. I made some hate-
ful remark about her in the hall, which she
overheard, and when Mrs. Lindsay scolded
me for it, saying she was a very wealthy lady
from Florida, and accustomed to every atten-
tion at home, I said back some pert things,
I suppose, for she threatened to write and
tell you, and so I thought I'd come and tell
you myself.'

There was a dizzy whirl in Mr. Brown-
ing's brain— a pallor about his lips — for a
terrible suspicion had flashed upon hir.i, and
leaning forward, he said in a voice almost a
whicpjr, 'What was the Florida lady's
name !'

' Potter, or ^orter — yes, Miss Porter, that
was it. But what is the matter? Are you
sick!' Rosamond asked, as she saw how
white he was.

' Only a sudden faintness. It will soon
pass off, ' he said. ' Tell me more of her.
Did she see you ? Were you near her !'

' No, ' answered Rosamond. ' She was
sick all the time I was there, and did not
leave her room. The girls said, though, that
she was rather pretty, but had big, black,
evil-looking eyes. I don't know why it was,
but I felt afraid of her — felt just as though
she was my ev"' genius. I couldn't help it
— but you are sick, Mr. Browning — you are
pale as a ghost. Lie down upon the sofa,
and let me bring the pillows, as I used to
do.'

She darted oflf in the direction of his
sleeping-room, unconscious of the voice
which called after her, asking if it were not
dark in the hall, and bidding her take a
light.

' But what dees it matter ?' he said, as ho
tottered to the sofa. ' She is not here. At-
water Seminary is two hundred miles away.
She can't harm Rosamond now. '

By this time Rosamond came with the

Ri
ov
ur

mimff^l

ROSAMOND.

the

pillows, which she arranged upon the sofa,
making him lie down while she sat by, and
laid her hand soothingly upon his burning
forehead.

' We will have tea in here to-night, '
she said, ' I told Mrs. Peters so, and
1 will m.vke it myself. Do you feel any
better ?' and she brought her rosy face so
near to his that he felt her warm breath upon
his cheek.

'Yes, 1 am better,' he replied, ' but keep
your hand upon my forehead. It assures me of
your presence, when my eyes are shut. '

So Rosamond sat beside him, and when
Mrs. Peters came in to Jay the cloth, she
found them thus together. Smiling know-
ingly, she .vhispered to herself, ' 'Nater is
tlie same everywhere, ' and the good lady
bustled in and out, bringing her choicest bita
and richest cake in honour of her pet's return.
That ni gilt, freed from boarding-school restra-
int, Rosamond slept soundly in her own pleas-
antchamber,buttoRalphBrowninfi;, pacing up
and down his room, there came no moment of
unconsciousness. He could not forget how
near he had been to one who had embittered
his whole life — nor yet how near to her young
Rosamond had been, and he shuddered as if
ti. 6 latter had escaped an unseen danger.
Occasionally, too, the dread thought steel
over him, ' suppose she should come here,
and with ber eagle eyes discover what, if it
exis+^^s at all, is hidden in the inmost recesses
of my heart. '

But of this he had little fear, and when
the morning came he was himself again, and,
save that it was haggard and pale, his face gave
no token of the terrible night he had passed.
But what should he do with Rosamond ?
This was the question which now perplexed
him. He had no desire to send her from
him again, neither would she have gone if he
had — and at last he came to the very sensible
conclusion that the school in his own village
was (juite as good as any, and she accordingly
became an attendant at the Gramby Female
Seminary. Here she remained for two years
and a half, over which time we will pass
silently and introduce her again to our lead-
ers, when she is nearly eighteen— a graduate
— a belle — and the sunshine of Riverside.

CHAPTER V.

BROTHER AND SISTER.

During the time which had elapsed since
Ben Van Vechten first made the acquaint-
ance of Rosamond, he had net once been to
Riverside, for failing to enter college, and
overwhelmed with mortification at his fail-
ure, he had returned to Alabama, from

which place he wrote to her occasionally,
always addressing her as a little yirl, and
speaking of himself as a very ancient person-
age in comparison with herself. But that
Rosamond was now no longer a little girl
was proved by her finely rounded figure, her
intelligent face, her polished manners and
self-reliant air. And Rosamond was beauti-
ful, too — so beautiful that strangers invari-
ably asked who she was, turning always for
a s coid luok.when told she was the adopted
sister or daughter — the villagers hardly
knew which — of the wealthy Mr. Browning.
But whether she were the daughter or the sis-
ter of the man with whom she lived, she was
in reality the mistress of his household, and
those who at first slighted her as the child of
a milliner, now gladly paid her homage as
one who was to be the heir of Mr. Browning's
wealth. He would never marry her, the
wise ones thought — would never marry any-
body — and so, with this understanding, he
was free to talk, walk, and ride with her as
often as he chose. He liked her, the peo-
ple said, but did not love her, while Rosa-
mond hcBuelf believed he almost hated her,
so strangely cold and harsh was his manner
towai d her at times.

This coldness had increased of late, and
when the Lawries, who, next to Mr. Brown-
ing, were the most aristocratic people in the
place, suggested that she should accompany
them for a few weeks to the Springs, she was
delighted with the plan, and nothing doubt-
injr that Mr. Browning would be dad to
have her out of the way, she went to him for
his consent. She found him in his library,
apparently so absorbed in reading that he
did not observe her approach until she stood
between him and the light. Then he looked
up quickly, and as she fancied, an expres-
sion of displeasure passed over his face.

' Excuse me for disturbing you, ' she said,
rather petulantly ; ' I liave to break in upon
your privacy if I would see you at all.'

He gave lier a searching, look and then lay-
ing aside his book and folding his arms, said
pleasantly, * I am at your service now. Miss
Ley ton. What is it you wish?'

Very briefly she stated her request, and
then sitting down in the •window, awaited
his answer. It was not given iTumediately,
and when he did speak, he said — 'Rosa-
mond, do you wish to go ?'

' Of course I do,' she replied, •' I want to
go where it is not as lonesome as I find it
here. '

' Lonesome, Rosamond, lonesome, ' he re-
peated, ' Riverside haa never been lonesome

since ' he passed a moment and then

added, ' since you came here. '

The shadow disappeared from Rosamond'-'

■«

ROSAMOND.

^ace, as she replied — ' I did not suppose you
cared to have me here. I thought you did
not like me. '

'Not like you, Rosamond?' and over his
fine features there came a look of paia,
v'lich increased as Rosamond continued : —
' Y >u are so cold at times, and shun me as
it were ; inventing excuses to drive me from
you when you know I would rather stay. '

' Oh, Rosamond, ' he groaned, ' how mis-
taken you are. The world would be to me
a blank were it not for you ; and if my
manner is sometimes cold and cruel, it is be-
cause stern duty demands it should be so.
I cannot lay bare my secret heart to you of
all others, but could you know me as I am,
you would not censure much, butpitj'^ more.'
He paused a moment, then, scarcely know-
ing what he said, he continued — ' Rosamond,
we will understand each other. I shall
never marry — never can marry. In your in-
tercourse with me, will you ahvavs remem-
ber that ?'

'Why, yes,' answered Rosamond, puzzled
to comprehend him. ' I'll remember that
you say so, but it is not likely y oil '11 keep
your word. '

'lam not trifling with you,' he said.
' Marriage is not for me. There is a dreadful
reason why I cannot marry, and if at times
I am cold towards you, it is because — be-
cause '

Rosamond's eyes were riveted xipon his
face ; — darker and darker they grew, becom-
ing at last almost black in their intensity.
She was beginning to understand him, and
colouring crimson, she answered bitterly,
' I know what you would say, but you need
have no fears, for I never aspired to that
honour. Rosamond Leyton has yet to see
the man she could love. '

' Rosamond, ' and Mr. Browning's voice
was so low, so mournful in its tone that it
quelled tliie angry feelings in the young girl's
bosom, and she offered no resistance when
hf^ came to her side and took her hand in
his. saying as he did so — ' Listen to me. You
came here a little girl, and at first I did not
heed you, but you made your presence felt
in various ways, until at last I thought I
could not live without you. You are a
young lady now — the world calls you beau-
tiful. To me you are beautiful. Oh, so
beautiful, ' and he laid one hand upon her
shining hair, 'softly, tenderly, nay, proudly,
as if she liad been his child. ' I am not old
yet, and it wouM l>e natural tliat \vu should
love each other, but we must not — we can-
not. '

' And lest I should love you too well, you
have tried to make me hate you,' interrup-
te 1 Posamond, trying in vain to release her- ]

self from his powerful grasp, and adding,
' but you can spare yourself the trouble. 1
like you too well to hate you ; but as I live,
I would not m^rry you if I could. I mean
what I say !'

He released her hand, and returning to his
chair, laid his head upon the table, while she
continued — ' I know just about how well
you like me — how necessary I am to your
comfort, and since fate has decreed that we
should be thrown together, let us contribute
to each other's happiness as far as in us lies.
I will think of you as a brother, if you like,
and you shall treat me as a sister, until
somebody takes me off your hands. Now, I
can't say I shall never marry, for I verily
believe I shall. Meantime, you must think
of me just as you would if you had a wife.
Is it a bargain, Mr. Browning?'

Slie spoke playfully, but he knew she was
in earnest, and from his inmost soul he
blessed her for having thus brought the
conversation to a close. He would not tell
her why he had said to her what he had —
it was not what he intended to say,
and he knew she was in a measure de-
ceived, but he could not explain to her now;
he could not tell her that he trembled for
himself far more than for her, and it was not
for her then to know how much he loved her
nor how that love was wearing his life away
because of its great sin. He was growing
old now very fast. The shadows of years
were on his brow, and Rosamond almost
fancied she saw his brown locks turning
white. She was a warm-hearted, impulsive
girl, and going toward him, she parted
from his forehead the hair streaked with
grey, saying softly to him. ' Shall it not be
so ? May I be your sister''

'Yes, Rosamond, yes,' was his answer ;
and then, wishing to bring him back to the
point from which they started, Rosamond
said abruptly — 'And what of the Springs ?
Can! go?'

The descent was a rapid one, but it was
what he needed, and lifting up his head, he
replied, just as he had done before, ' do you
want to go ?'

' Not as much as I did when I thought
you were angry, and if j'ou would rather, I
had quite as lief stay with you. '

' Then stav, ' he said, ' and we will have
no more misunderstandings.'

The next evening, as he sat alone in the
ppvlour, a servant brouglit to him a letter,
the superscription of which made him reel,
as if he would have fallen to the floor. It
was nearly four years since he had seen that
ha.i.l-writing — lie had hoped never to look
up(Mi it again — but it was then; before his
eyes, and she who wrote that letter \/a8

ROSAMOND.

coming to Riverside — ' would be there in a
tew days, Providence permitting. Do not
commit suicide on my account,' she wrote,
' for I care as little as yourself to have our
secret divulged, and unless I find that you
are after other prey, I shall keep my own
counsel. '

The letter dropped from his nerveless fin-
gers — the objects in the room swam before
his eyes, and like one on whom a crushing
weight has fallen, he sat bewildered, until
the voice of Rosamond aroused him, and
fleeing to his chamber he locked the door,
and then sat down to think. She was com-
ing to Riverside, and wherefore ? He did
not wish for a reconciliation now — he would
rather live there just as he was, with Rosa-
mond.

' Nothing will escape her, ' he said ; ' those
basilisk eyes will see everything — will ferret
out of my love for that fair young girl.
Oh, Heaven, is there no escape?'

He heard the voice of Anna Lawrie in the
yard. She was coming for Rosamond's de-
cision, and (j[uick as thought he rang the
bell, bidding the servant who appeared lo
sen<1 Miss Leytou to him.

'Rosamond,' he said, when she came to
the door, ' I have changed my mind. You
must go the Siprings.'

' But I'd rather stay at home — I do not
wish to go,' she said.

* I say you must. So tell Miss Lawrie
you will, ' he answered, and his eyes flashed
almost savagely upon her.

Rosamond waited for no more. She had
discovered the imped ment to his marrying.
It was hereditary insanity, and she had seen
the first signs of it in him herself ! Magna-
nimously resolving neve*" to tell a human
being, nor let him be chained if she could
help it, howev^er furious he might become,
she weiit down to Miss Lawrie, telling her
tihe would go.

One week from that day was fixed upon
for their departure, and during that time
Rosamond was too much absorbed in dresses
and finery to pay much heed to Mr. Brown-
ing. Of one thing she w - sure, though — he
was crazy ; for what else made him stalk up
and down tlie gravel-walk, his head bent
forward, and his hands behind him, as if in-
tently thinking. Once, when she saw him
thus, she longed to go out to him, to tell hiin
she knew his secret, and that she would
never leave him, however unmanageable he
should bc3ome ! But his manner toward her
now was so strange that she dared not, and
she was almost as glad as himself when at
last the morning came for her to go.

' Promise me one thing,' he said, as they
stood together a moment alone. • Don't

write until you hear from me, and don't
come home until I send for you. '

' And suppose the Lawries come, what
then ?' she asked, and he replied, ' No mat-
ter ; stay until I write. Here are five hun-
dred dollars in case of an emergency,' and he
thrust a check into her hand. 'Stop,' he
continued, as the carriage came round — 'did
you put your clothes away where no one can
see them, or are you taking them all with
you?'

' Why no, why should I?' she answered.
' Ain't I coming back ?'

'Yes, yes — Heaven only knows,' he said.
* Oh, Rosamond, it may be I am parting
with you forever, and at such a moment, is
it a sin for you to kiss me ? You asked to
do so once. Will you do it now ?'

• I will,' she replied, and she kissed, un-
hesitatingly, his quivering lips.

The Lawries were at the door — Mrs.
Peters also — and forcing down his emotion,
he bade her a calm good-bye. The carriage
rolled away, but ere its occupants were six
miles from Riverside, every article of dress
which had belonged to Rosamond had dis-
appeared from the room, which presented
the appeaiKince of an ordinary bed-chamber,
and when Mrs. Peters, in great alarm, came
to Mr. Browning, asking what he supposed
had become of tliem, he answered quietly —
' I have put them in my private closet and
locked them up !'

CHAPTER VL

MARIE PORTER.

The Hotels were crowded with visitors.

Every apartment at Hall, from basement

to attic, was full, save two small rooms,
eiijht by ten, so dingy and uncomfortable,
that only in case of emergency were they
offered to guests. These, from necessity,
were taken by the Lawries, but for Rosa-
mond there was scarcely found standing
point, unless she were willing to share the
apartment of a sickly lady, who had gracious-
ly consented to receive any genteel, well-
bred person, who looked as though they
would be quiet and not rummage her things
more than once a day.

' She was a very high-bred woman, ' the
obsequious attendant said, ' and her room
the best in the house ; she would not remain
much longer, and when she was gone the
young lady could have it alone, or share it
with her companions. It contained two beds,
of course, besides a few nails for dresses. '

'Oh, do take it,' whispered the young
Miss Lawrie, who was not yet thoroughly
versed in the pleasure of a waterinir plii^",

'\\

■' ' .,

ROSAMOND.

And who cast rueful glances at her cheerless
pen, so ditt'erent from her airy chamber at
home.

So Rosamond's trunks were taken to No.
20, whether she herself followed them. The
first occupant, it would seem, was quite an
invalid, for though it was four in the after-
noon, she was still in bed. Great pains,
however, had evidently been taken with her
toilet,and nothing could have been more per-
fect than the arrangements of her ..."'lows —
her hair — her wrapper, and the crimson
shawl she wore about her shoulders. Rosa-
mond bowed to her politely, and then, with-
out noticing her particularly, went over to
the side of the room she supposed was to be
hers. She had just lain aside her hat when
the lady said, ' That open blind lets in too
much light. Will you please shut it Miss

1 don't know what to call you. '

'Miss Ley ton,' answered Rosamond, 'and
you are — '

' Miss Porter, ' returned the speaker)
' Rosamond started quickly, for she re-
membered the name, and looking for the first
time directly at the lady, she met a pair of
large black eyes fixed inquiringly upon her.
'Leyton — Leyton, 'replied thelady, 'where
have I heard of you before ?'

' At Atwater Seminary, perhaps, * suggest-
ed Rosamond, a little doubtful as to the
manner in which her intelligence would be
received.

A shadow flitted over the lady's face, but
it was soon succeeded by a smile, and she
said graciously, ' Oh, yes, I know. You
annnyed me and I annoyed you. It was an
even thing, and since we are thrown together
again, we will not quarrel about the past.
Ain't you going to close that blind ? The
light shines full upon my face, and, as I did
not sleep one wink last night, I am looking
horridly to-day.'

'Excuse me, madam,' said Rosamond, *I
was so taken by surprise that I forgot your
request,' and she proceeded to shut the blind.
This being done, she divested her-
self of her soiled garments, wash-
ed her face, brushed her curls, and was
about going in quest of her compan-
ions, when the lady asked if she had friends
there. Rosamond replied that she had, at
the same time explaining how uncomforta-
ble they were.

'The Hotel is full,' said the lady, 'and
they all envy me my room ; but if I p ly for
the best, I am surely entitled to the best.
I shall not remain here long, however. In-
deed, I did not expect to be here now, but
sickness overtook me. I dare say I am the
•ubject of many anxious thoughts to the
person I am going to visit.'

There was a half-exultant expression upon
the lady's face as she uttered these fast
words, but in the darkened room, Rosamond
did not observe it. She was sorry for one
thus detained against her will, and leaning
against the foot-board, she said, ' You suffer
a great deal from ill health, do you not ?
Have you always been an invalid ?'

' Not always. 1 was very healthy onoe,
but a great trouble came upon me, shocking
my nervous system terribly, and since then
I have never see a well day. I was young
when it occurred — about your age, I think.
How old are you. Miss Leyton ?'

' I am eighteen next October, ' was Rosa-
mond's reply, and the lady continued, ' I
was older than that. Most nineteen. I am
twenty -eight now. *

Rosamond did not know why she said it,
but she rejoined quickly, ' Twenty -eight.
So is Mr. Browning !'

'Who?' exclaimed the lady, the tone of
her voice so sharp — so loud and earnest, that
Rosamond was startled, and did not answer
for an instant.

When she did, she said, • I beg your par-
don ; it is Mr. Browning who is twenty-
eight.

'Ah, yes, I did not quite understand you.
I'm a Httle hard of hearing. Who is Mr.
Browning?'

The voice had assumed its usually soft,
smooth tone, and Rosamond could not see
the rapid beatings of the heart, nor the
eager curiosity lurking in the glittering
black eyes. The lady seemed indifferent,
and smoothed carelessly tlie rich Valen-
ciennes laoe, which edged the sleeve of lier
cambric wrapper.

' Did you tell me who Mr. Browning was,
dear ?' and the black eyes wandered over the
counterpane, looking ever' where but at
Rosamond, so feurful was ^;heir owner lest
they should betray the interest she felt in
t' e answer.

'Mr. Browning,' sraid Rosamond, 'is — is
— I hardly know what he is to me, I went
to his house to live when I was a little,
friendless orphan, and he very kindlj'^ edu-
cated me, and made me what I am. I live
with him still at Riverside.'

' Ye-es — Riverside — beau-ti-ful name — his
country-seat— I — sup-pose,' the words drop-
ped syllable by syllable from the white lips,
but there was no quiver in the voice — no
ruffle upon her face.

Raising herself upon her elbow, the 'ady
continued, ' Pray don't think me' fidgety,
but won't you please open that shutter. I
did not think it would be so dark. There,
that's a good girl. Now, come and sit by
me on the bed, and tell me of Riverside.

'vTigBr -)^

ROSAMOND.

was,
the
at
est

t in

live

-his

rop-

ips,

-no

jre,

ide.

Put your feet in the chair, or take this pil-
low. There, turn a little more to the light.
I like to see people when they talk to me. '

Rosamond complied with each request, and
then, never dreaming of the close examination
to which her face was subjected, she
began to speak of her beautiful home-
describing it minutely, and dwelling some-
what at length upon the virtues of its
owner.

• You like him very mucli, ' the lady said,
ncdding a little affirmative nod to her own
'question.

* Yes. very— very much,' was Rosamond's
answer; and the lady continued 'And
Mrs. Browning ? Do you like her too ?'

' There is no Mrs. Browning, ' returned
Rosamond, adding quickly, as she saw in her
auditor's face an expression she did not un-
derstand, ' but it is perfectly proper I should
live there, for Mrs. Peters, the housekeeper,
has charge of me. '

'Perhaps, then, he will marry you,' and
the jewelled hands worked nervously under
the crimson shawl.

' Oh, no, he won't, ' said Rosamond, de-
<jidedly, 'he's too old for me. Why his
hair is turning gray !'

'That's nothing, ' answered the lady, alittle
sharply. ' Everybody's hair turns gray early
now-a-days. Sarah found three or four
silver threads in mine, this morning. Miss
Leyton, don't you love Mr. Browning ?'

' Why, yes, ' Rosamond began, and the
face upon the pillow assumed a dark and
almost fiendish expression. ' Why, yes, I
love him as a brother, but nothing else. I
respect him for his goodness, but it
would be impossible to love him with a mar-
rying love. '

The fierce expression passed away, and
Miss Porter was about to speak when Anna
Lawrie sent for Rosamond, who excused her-
self and left the room, thinking that, after
all, she should like her old enemy of At-wa-
ter Seminary very much.

Meantime ' the enemy ' had buried her
face in the pillows, and clenching her blue
veined fists, struck at the empty air, just as
she would have struck at the owner of
Riverside had he been standing there.

' Fine time he has of it, ' she muttered,
' living there with her, and she so young and
beautiful. I could have strangled her — the
jade ! — when she sat here talking so enthu-
siastically to me, of him ! And she loves
him, too. I know she does, though she
don't know it herself. But I must be wary.
I must seem to like this girl — must win her
confidence — so I can probe her heart to its
core, and if I find they love each other !' —
she paused a moment, then grinding her

teeth together, added slowly, as if the sound
of her voice were musical and sweet, ' Marie
Porter will be avenged !'

That strange womaji could be a demon or
an angel, and as the latter character suited
her just now, Rosamond, on her return to
her room, found her all gentleness and love.
That night, wlien all around the house was
still, the full moon shone down upon a
scene which would have chilled the blood of
Ralpli Browning an<l made his heart stand
still. Upon a single bedstead near the win-
dow Rosamond Leyton lay calmly sleeping
— her brown curls floating o'er the pillow —
her cheeks flushed with health and beauty —
her lips slightly apart and her slender hands
fc>lded gracefully upon her bosom. Over
her a fierce woman bent — her long, black
hair streaming down her back — her eyes
blazing with passion — her face the imperso-
nation of malignity and hate ; and there she
stood, a vulture watching a harmless dove.
Rosamond was dreaming of her home, and
the ogre, standing near, heard her mur-
mur, '#clear Mr. Browning. '

For a moment Marie Porter stood im-
movable — then gliding back to her own
couch, she whispered, ' It is as I believed,
and now if he loves her, the time I've waited
for so long has come. '

All that night she lay awake, buminot
with excitement and thirsting for revenge,
and when the morning came, the il'ness was
not feigned which kept her in her bed and
wrung from her cries of pain. She was
really suffering now, and during the next
few days, Rosamond staid almost constant-
ly at her side, administering to her wants,
and caring for her so tenderly that hatred
died out of the woman's heart, and she
pitied the fair young girl, for in those few
days she had learned that Rosamond did not
know herself, though she was gradually
waking up to it now. It was a long time
since she had been separated from Mr.
Browning, and she missed him so much,
following him in fanCy through the day, and
at night wondering if he were thinking of
her, and wishing he could hear the sound of
her voice singing to him as she was wont to
do when the twilight was over the earth.
Anon there crept into her heart a feeling she
could not define — a feverish longing to be
where he was — a sense of desolation and
terrible pain when the thought of his in-
sanity, and tbe long, dreary years which
might ensue w>en he would lose all know-
ledge of her. She did not care to talk so
much of him now, but Mrs. Porter cared to
have her, and caressinglv winning the girl's
confidence, learned almost everything—
learned that there was an impediment to his

;

ROSAMOND.

inarryinj?, and that Rosamond believed that
impediment to be hereditary insanity —
learned that he was often ritful and gloomy,
tri'ating his ward sometimes with coldness,
and again with the utmost tenderness. Of
the interview in the library Rc)samond did
not tell, but she told of every thing else —
of his refusing to let her come to the
Springs and then compelling hex*, against
her will, to go ; and Marie Porter, holding
the little hands ia hers, and listening to the
story, read it all, and read it aright, gloat-
ing over the anguish she knew it cost Ralph
Browning to see that beautifnl girl each day
and know he must not win her.

' But I pity her,' she said, 'there is coming
to her a terrible awakening, '

Then, fcr no other reason than a thirst for
excitement, she longed to see that awaken-
ing, and one day when they sat together
alone, she took Rosamond's hand in hers,
and examining its scarcely legible lines,
said, half playfully, half seriously, ' Rosa-
mond, people have cidled me a fortune-teller.
I inherited the gift from my grandmother,
and though I do not pretend to mu?li skill,
I can surely read your destiny. Vou love
Mr. Browning. I have known that all
along. You think of him by day — you
dream of him by night, and no thought is
half so sweet as the thought of going home
to lii • But, Rosamond, you will not
marry .jiii. There is an mpedinient, as
you say, but not insanity. I cannot tell you
what it is, but I can see, ' and she bent
nearer to the hand which trembled in her
own. • I can see that for you to marry hiin,
or — marK me, Rosamond — for you even to
love him, is a most wicked thing — a dread-
ful sin in thesight ot Heaven, and you must
forget him — will you ?'

Rosamond had laid her face upon the bed
and was sobbing hysterically, for Miss Por-
ter's manner frightened her even more than
her words. In reply to the question, ' Will
you ?' she at last answered passionately,
' No, I won't !' It is not wicked to love him
as I do. I am his sister, nothing more. '

Miss Porter's lips curled scornfully a mom-
ent, and then she said, ' Let me tell you the
story of my Hfe, shall I !'

No answer from Rosamond, and the lady
continued : ' When I was about your age I
fancied I loved a man who, I think, must
have been much like Mr Browning '

' No, no,' interrupted Rosamond. 'No-
body was ever like Mr. Browning. I don't
want to hear the story. I don't want any-
thing Vnit to go ho! le. '

* I will not tell her until it's more necessary,'
thought Miss Porier, ' but if I mistake not
she will go home much sooner than she an-

ticipates.' And she was right, for on that
very night Mr. Browning sat reading a lettei
which ran s '/Hows :

'I find myself so happy with your littli-
Rosamond, who chances to be my room-mate,
that I have postponed my visit to Riverside
until some future time, which, if you contiuui
natural, may never come — hut the mom-
ent you trespass on forbid(Un ground, or
breathe a word of love into lier ear — beware !
She loves you. I have found tliat out, and
I tell it becaus(! I know it will not make
your life more happy, or your punishmeiil
easier to bear !'

He did n »t shrink — he did not faint — Ik
did not move, but from between his teeth
two words came like a burning hiss, ' Curse
her !' Then, seizing his pen, he dashed oH
a few lines, bidding Rosamond 'not to delay
a single moment, but to come home at once.'

' She knows it all,' he said, ' and now, it
she comes here, it will be so much worse. 1
can but die, let what will hai)pen.'

This letter took Rosamond and the Law-
ries by surprise but not so Miss Porter. She
expected it, and when she saw how eager
Roiiamond was to go, she smiled a hard bitter
smile, and said, ' I've a half a inind to go
with you.'

'What! where? To Riverside ?' asked
Rosamond, suspending her preparations for
a moment, and hardly knowing whether she
wer ' pleased or uf-t.

, Yes, to Riveiviilp, ' returned Miss Porter,
' though on the whole. I think I'd better not.
Mr. Browning may not care to see me. If
he does, you can write and let me know.
Give him my love, and say that if you had
not described him so incorrigibly an old bach,
I might be coming there to try my powers
upon him. I am irresistible in my diamonds.
Be sure and te 1 that ; and stay, Rosamond,
I must give you some little token of my affec-
tion. What shall it be ?' and she feigned to
be thinking.

Most cruel must her thoughts have been,
and even she hesitated a moment ere she
could bring hersell to such an act. Then
with a contemptuous ' Pshaw !' she arose
and opened her jewel box took from a private
drawer a plain gold ring, bearing date nine
years back, and having inscribed upon it
simply her name 'Marie.' This she brought
to Rosamond, saying, ' I can't wear it now ;
— my hands are too thin and bony, but it
just fits you, — see — ' and shellaced it upon
the third finger of Rosamond's left hand !

Rosamond thanked her — admired the chaste
beauty of the ring and then went on with
her packing, while the wicked woman seated
herself by the window and leaning her h(.:ad
upon her hands tried to quiet the voice! of

ROSAMOND.

(lonscience which had cried out against the
dee(] she had dune.

'It does not matter,' she thouifht.
'That tie was severed years ago, — by
his own act, too. The king shall go. But
will he see it ! Men do not always ol)servi'
such things, ' and then, lest he should not
quaff the cup of bitterness prepared lor him,
she wrote on a tiny siieet of gilt-edged
paper, ' Look on Rosaniond'a third linger."

This she carefully sealed and gave to
Rosamond, bidiling her hand it to Mi.
Browning, and saying in answer to her look
of inquiry, 'It is about a little matter con-
cerning yourself. He can show it to you,
if he thinks proper !'

'The omnibus. Miss, for the cars,' cried a
servant at the door,- and with a huried
good-bye to her friends, Rosamond departed
and was soon on her wey to Riverside.

CHAPTER VII.

MAKING LOVE.

An accident had occurred to the down-
ward train, and Rosamond was detained
upon the road for a long time, so that it was
already dark when she reached the Granby
depot. Wishing to surprise Mr. Browning,
she started for home on foot, leaving her
trunks in charge of the baggage master.
All around the house was still, and stepping
into the hall she was about passing up the
stairs, when the parlour door suddenly
opened, throwing a glare of light upon her
face. The same instant some one caught
her ronnd the neck, and kissing her twice,
t»nly released her when she exclaimed, ' Mr.
Browning, 1 am surprised at you !'

' Mr. Browning ? Thunder I Just as
though I was my uncle !' cried a famdiar
voice, and looking at the speaker, Rosa-
mond recognized Bwi Van Vechten ! He
had come to Riverside the day previous, he
said, and hearing she was expected, hud
waited at the depot four mortal hours, and
then returned in disgust.

' But how did you know me ?' she asked,
and he replied, ' By your daguerreotype, of
course. There is but one such beautifu'
face in the whole world. '

He was disposed to be compiimentaiy,
and Rosamond was not sorry when his
mother appeared, for in her presence
he was tolerably reserved. Mrs. Van
Vechten greeted Rosamond politely, but
the old hauteur was there, and her mamier
seemed to sav, ' If you are educated and
refined, I can't forget that you were once
my waiting-maid.'
* Where is Mr. Browning?' asked Rosa-

mond, and Bun replied, ' Oli, up in his den
having ilie .sua sL's. He moi;ei there all tlie
time. Can't yiju l)rc;i,k him of the blues?'

' ril gi) and try,' an.swurcd Rosamund, and
«lie started up tiio stains, followed by Ben
whose uiutlier called liim l)iick, bidding him,
in a low voice. ' >t 'V whero lie was, and not
make a fool of hiioseU. '

Shu coidd trust iit'r brotlier, but not her
son, and she thus did tiie former the great-
est favour she could have done— she let him
moot young Kosaniond Leytun alone. The
evening was ijuite dully f(jr .luly, and as,
since the receipt of Miss I'urter'is nute, Mr.
Browning' liad seemed rather ugueish. there
was a lire burning in the grate, and it cast
its shaduws upon him as he satin his accus-
tomed chair. His back was toward the
door, and he knew notidng of Rosamond's
return un il two, soft, wliite hands were
placed before his eyes, and a voice which
tried to be unnatural, said, ' Gues-i who I
am.'

' Rosamond — darling — have you come
l)ack to me again?' he exclaimed, and start-
ing up, he wound his arm about her, and
looked into her face, expecting, momentari-
ly, to hear her say, ' Yes, X know it all. '

But Rosamond did not say so. She mere-
ly told him how glad she was to be at home
once more, in her delight forgetting that
Marie Porter had said she loved the man
who held her closely to his siile and
smoothed her wavy hair even while his heart
throbbed painfully with memories of the
past and treinl)led for the future. He
longed to speak of her room-mate, but
he dared not betray his kno\A ledge of her
existence, and lie sat there waiting, yet
dre .ding to hear the hated name.

' Did you ruoiu alone ?' lie asked at last,
and now renieniljciing the words, ' You do
love him, ' Rus iUiund moved quickly from
his side. 'She dues know,' he thought,
and a silent moan of anguish died upon his
lips. But Rosimond did not know — the
movement was actuated by mere maidenly
reserve, and sitting down directly opposite
him, she told him of Miss Porter, whom she
said she liked so well.

'How much of an i valid is she ?' asked
Mr. BroW'ung, when he could trust his voice
to speak.

' Her health is miserable, ' i-eturned Rosa-
mond, ' She has the heart disease, and her
waiting-maid told me she was liable to die
at any time if unusually excited. '

It might have been because Rosamond
was there that Mr. Browning thought the
room wa% brighter than it had been before,
ind quite calmly he listened while she told
him more of her new friend. .,

n ;

! i 1

|.!
■It
i

ROSAMOND.

• She seemed so interested in you, and in
Riverside,' said Rosamond. ' and even pro-
posed coming nome with me '

Mr. Bf-owning startdl suddenly, and as
suddenly a coai snappe<l out upon the car-
pet. This was an excuse for liis movement,
and Rosamond continued, " She thought,
though, you might not cure to see her, being
a stranger, but she sent you her love, and — .
You are cold, ain't you, Mr. Browning?
You shiver like a leaf. Ben said you'd had
the ague. '

Roaamond closed the door and com-
menced again. 'Where was I? Oh,
I know. She said if you were not
a confirmed bachelor she would try her pow-
ers on you. ' '* She was irresistible in her
diamonds," she bade me tell you. But have
you an ague chill, reallv ? or what makes
your teeth chatter so? Shall I ring for more
coal ?'

' No, Rosamond, no. Fire does not warm
me ; I shall better soon. '

Rosamond pitied him, lie looked so white
and seemed to be suffering so much, and she
remained silent for a time. Then remem-
bering the noto, she handed it to him, and
turning toward the fire, stooped down to fix
a bit of coal which was in dang.n- of dropping
from the grate. While in tliis attitude a cry
between a howl of rage and a moan of an-
guish fell upon her ear — her shoulders were
grasped by powerful hands, and looking up
she saw Mr. Biowning, his face distorted
with passion and his flashing eyes riveted
upon the ring glittering in tlint firelight.
Seizing her hand, he wrenched it from her
finger, and glanced at the name — then, swift
as thought, placed it upon the marble hearth
and crushed it with his heel.

' It's mine— you've broken it,' cried Rosa-
mond, but he did not heed her, aad gather-
ing up the pieces, he hurled them into the
grate — then, pale as ashes, sank panting in-
to the nearest chair.

Rosamond was thunder-struck. She did
not suppose he had had ti ne to read the note
and never dreaming there was any connec-
tion between that and his strange conduct,
Bhe believed him to be raving mad, and her
first impulse was to fly. Her second thought
however, was, ' I will not leave him. He
has these fits often, now, I know, and tfiSt
is why he sent for me. He knew I could
quiet him, and I will. '

So Rosamond stayed, succeeding so far in
soothing him that his eyes lost their savage
gle^m, and were suffused with a look of un-
natural tenderness when they rested on her
face. He did not ask her how sh^came by
the ring for he knew it had been sent as an
insult to him, and he felt a glow of satisfac-

tion in knowing that it was blackening on
the grate. Ben's voice was now heard in the
ball, as king if they intended staying
there all night,and in a whisper Mr. Brown-
ing bade Rosamond go down and apologize
for him. She accordingly descended to the
parlour, telling Mrs. Van Vechten that her
brother was too much indisposed to come
down, and wishc' to be excused. Mrs. Van
Vechten bowed coolly, and taking a book oi
prints, busied herself for awhile in examin-
ing them ; then the book dropped from her
liand — her head fell back — her mouth fell
open, and Ben, who was anxiously watching
her, knew by unmistakable sounds that she
was fast asleep. It was now his time, and
faithfully did he improve it, devoting him-
self so assiduously 'to Rosamond, that she
was glad when a snore, louder and more
prolonged than any' which had preceded it
started the lady herself, and produced symp-
toms of returning consciousness.

The next day, and the next, it was the
same, and at the expiration of a week, Ben
had determined either to marry Rosamond
Ley ton, or go to the Crimean War, this last
being the bugbear with which he intended
frightening his mother into a consent. He
hardly dared disoV^y her openly for fear of
disinheritance, and he . would rather she
should express her willingness to receive
Miss Leyton as her daughter. He accord-
ingly startled her one day by asking her
to sanction his intended proposal
to the young girl. Nothing could
exceed Mrs. Van Vechten 's amaze-
ment and contempt. She would never con-
sent, and if Ben persisted in making so dis-
graceful an alliance, she would disinherit
him at once. Ben knew she was in earnest,
and so fell back upon the Crimean war as a
last resort. ' He would go immediately —
would start that very day for New York —
he had money enough to carry him there,'
and he painted so vividly ' death on a distant
battle-field, with a ferocious Russian rifling
his trowsers' pocket,' that his moth«r began
to cry, though she still refused to relent.

• Choose, mother, choose, ' said he. ' It's
almost car time — Rosamond or the war,'
and he drew on his heavy boots.

• Oh, Benjamin, you will kill me dead. '

*I know it. I mean to. Rosamond or
the war !' and he buttoned up his coat pre-
paratory to a start.

' Do, Ben, listen to reason. '

• I won't — I won 't ; — Rosamond or the
war 1 I shall rush into the ttiickest of the
fight, and be killed the first fire, of course,
and black is so unbecoming to you.'

' Stop, I entreat. You know you are

Id.'

id or
pre-

the
^f the
Urse,

in are

ROSAMOND.

*fraid of cannons :' tliis was said beseech-
ingly.

' Thunder, niotlicr ! No, I am't 1 Rosa-
mond or tlie war— choose quick. I hear the
whistle at East Granby.'

He left the room — went down the stairs,
out at the door, through the yard, and out
into the avenue, wiiile his (list muted mother
looked after him through blimling tears. She
knew iiow determined he was when once hia
mind was msale up, and she feared his

{►resent excitement would last until he was
airly shipped, and it was too late to return.
He would never fight, she was sure, and at
the first battle-aound he would fly, and be
hung as a deserter, no doubt ! This touched
her pride. She would rather people s.'iould
say of her boy that he married a milliner's
daughter than that lie was lunu , and hurry-
ing to the window just as Ben looked back,
hoping for a signal, she waved her hand for
him to return, calling out at the top of her
voice, ' I relent — I relent. '

'I knew the Crimea would fetch, her.'
«aid Ben; 'lucky I thought of that,' and
without going to hia mother at all, besought
out Rosamond. Half an hour later he aston-
ished the former by rushing into herpresence,
and exclaiming, ' She's refused me, mother ;
and she meant it, too. Oh, I shall die — I
know I shall. Oh, oh, oh !' and Ben rolled
on the floor in his frantic grief. As nearly
as she could, Mrs. Van Vechten learned the
particulars of his interview with Rosamond,
and, though at first secretly pleased that he
had been refused, she felt a very little piqued
that her son should thus be dishonored, and
■when she saw how wretched it had made
hira, her feelings were enlisted in his behalf,
and tihe tried to soothe him by saying that
lier brother had a great deal of influence
with Rosamond, and they would refer the
matter to him.

' Go now, mother. Don't wait a minute,'
pleaded Ben, and Mrs. Van Vechten started
for her brother's library.

She found him alone, and disclosed the
object of her visit at once. Rosamond had
refused her son, who, in consequence, was
neary distracted, and threatened going to
the Crimean war — a threat she knew he
would execute unless her brother persuaded
Rosamond to revoke her decision, and think
again.

Mr. Browning turned as white as marble,
but his sister was too much absorbed
in her own matters to heed his emotions, and
she continued —

' Of course it will be mortifying to us all
to have her m the family, and may be Ben
-will get over it, but they must be engaged
somehow, or he'll go away. I'll send her

the room, but Mr.

dress, exclaiming,

hear me. I never

up to you immediately, ' and she hurriedly
left the room inquest of Rosamond. For a
moment Mr. Browning sat like one stupefied;
then, covering his face with his hands, he
moaned, * must this come upon me too ?
Must I, who love her so niadly, bid her
marry another ? And yet what does it mat-
ter ? Slie can never be mine— and if she
marries Bon I can keep them with me al-
ways, and that vile woman will have no
cauae for annoving me. She said Rosa-
mond loved me, but I pray Heaven that may
not be so. '

A light tread echoed in the hall, and with
each fall of those little feet, Ralph Brown-
ing's heart throbbed painfully. Another
moment aud Rosamond was there with him
—her checks flushed — her eyelashes wet
with tears, and her whole manner betrayed
an unusual degree of excitement.

' I understand from your sister,' said she,
* that you wish me to marry Ben, or leave
your house. I will do the latter, but the
former — never ! Shall I consider our inter-
view at an end ?'

She turned to leave
Browning caught her
' stay, Rosnmoiid, and
uttered such words to Mri-. Van Vechten. I
do not wish you to marry Ben, unless ytni
love him. Do you lovehim, Ros\mond? D6
you love anybody ?'

This was not what he intended to say —
but he had said it, and now he waited for
her answer. To the fir?t question it came
in a decided 'no, I do not love him,' and to
the last it came in burning blnahes, stealing
over her cheek — her forehead — her neck, and
speaking in her down-cast eye. She had
never believed that she did love her guardian
until ^ that he wished her to marry an-
other jn it burst upon her in all its force,
and she could no more conceal it now than
she could stop the rapid beatings of her
heart He saw it all in her tell-tale face,
and forgetting everything, he wound hia
arms around her, and drawing her to his
side, whispered in her ear, * Darling Rosa-
mond, say that you love me. Let me hear
that assurance once, and I shall be almost
willing to die. '

' Ladies do not often confess an attachment
until sure it is retiurned, ' was Rosamond's
answer, and doubly forgetful now of all the
dreary past, Ralph Browning poured into
her ear hot, burning words of love — hugging
her closer and closer to him until through
the open window came the sound of Mr.
Peters' voice calling to the stranger girl who
had that morning entered service at River-
side as a waiting-maid in general. Maria
was the name, and as the ominous word fell

i ;

"'I

(

-»•«» ^

ROSAMOND.

upon Mr. Browning's ear, he started, and
pushing Rosamond from him, turned his face
away so she could not see the expression of
mute despair settling down upon it. S nk-
iog upon the lounge lie buried his face in its
cushions while 1\< iiimond looked curiously
upon him, feeling 8ure thatahe knew what it
was that so affected him. He hud told lur
of his love — had said that she was dearer to
him than his life, and in confessing in tlis
he had forgotten the dark shadow upon
his life, and it was the dread ot
telling it to her — the pain of saying ' I love
yju, but you cannot be my wife,' wliich
atTected him so strangely. But she knew it
all, and she longed to assure him of her
sympathy. At last when ho seemed to be
more calni, she stole up to him, and kneel-
ing at his side bent over him so that her
bright hair mingled with his own.

'Mr. Browning,' she whispered softly, 'I
know your secret, and I do not love you
less,'

• You, Rosamond, you know it !' he ex-
claimed, gazing fixedly at her. ' It cannot
))p. You would never do as you have

•done.*

' litit I do know it,' she continued, taking
both Ins hands in hers, and looking him
steadily in the eye, by way of controlling
him, should he be seized with a sudden at-
tack, ' I know exactly what it is, and
though it will prevent me from being your
wife, it will not prevent me from loving you
just the same, or from living with you either.
I shall stay here always — and — and — pardon
me, Mr. Browning, but when you get furi-
ous, as you sometimes do, I can quiet you
better than any one else, and it may be, the
world will never need to know you are a
madman !'

Mr. Browning looked searchingly into her
innocent eyes, and then, in spite of himself,
he laughed aloud. He understood why she
should think him a madman, and though he
repented of it afterward, he hastened to un-
deceive her now. ' As I hope to see another
day, it is not that, ' he said. * It is far
worse tjian insanity ; and, Rosamond,
though it breaks my heart to say it, it is
wicked for me to talk of love to you, and
you must not remember what I said. You
must crush every tender thought of me.
You must forget me — nay, more — you must
hate me. Will you, Rosamond ?'

• No — no — no, ' she cried, and laying her
face in his lap, she burst into a passionate
flood of tears.

' Leave, ' he whispered, ' or I shall go mad,
for 1 know I am the cause of this distress. '

There was decision in the tones of his
voice, and it stilled the tumult in Rosamond's

bosom. Rising to her feet, she said calmly,
* I will go, but I cannot forget that you de-
ceived me. You have wrung from me a con-
fession of my love, only to throw it back
upon me as a priceless thing. '

Not thus would he part with lior, and
grasping her arm, he begnn, ' Hcavon knows
how much more than my very life 1 love
you •

He did not finish the sentence, for through
the air a small, dark object came, and,
missing its aim, dropped upon the hearth,
where it was broken in a hundred pieces.
It was a vase which stood upon the table in
hall, and Ben Van Vechten's was the hand
that threw it ! Impatient at the delay, he
had come up in time to hear his uncle's last
words, which aroused his Southern blood at
once, and seizing the vase, he hurled it at
the offender's head — then, rushing down the
stairs, he burst upon his mother with
' Great thunder ! mother ; Uncle Ralph is
making love to Rosamond himself, and she
likes it too. I saw it with my own eyes !
I'll hang myself in the barn, or go to the
Crimean war !' and Ben bounded up and
down like an India-rubber ball. Suddenly
remembering that another train was due ere
long, he darted out of the house, followed
by his distracted mother, who, divining his
intention, ran swiftly after him, imploring
him to return. Pausing for a moment, as
he struck into the highway, he called out,^
' Good-bye, mother. I've only onechoiceleft —
War! Give my love to Rosamond, and tell
her I shall die like a hero. You needn't
wear black, if you don't want to. Good-
bye.'

He turned the corner — he had started for
the war — and mentally resolving to follow
him in the next train, Mrs. Van Vechten
returned to the house, and sought her
brother.

' Ralph, ' she began sternly, * have you
talked of love to Rosamond V

Mr. Browning had borne so much that
nothing startled him now, and returning
her glarce unflinchingly, he replied, 'I
have."

' How, then — is Marie dead ?' the lady
asked.

' Not to my knowledge — but hist, ' was
the reply, as Mr. Browning nodded toward
the hall, where a rustling movement was
heard.

It was the new girl, coming with dust-pan
and brush to remove the fragments of the
vase, though how she knew they were there,
was a question she alone could answer. For
a sing e instant her dull, gray eye shot a
gleam of intelligence at the occupants of the
room, and then assuming her usual appear-

ROSAMOND.

it back

^e you

jh that
turning
led, •!

|ie lady

was
toward
it was

list-pan
I of the

there,
For

shot a
|of the

PiRar-

ance, she did what she came to do, and do-
narted. When they were again alone, Mrs.
Van Vechten demanded an explanation of
her brother, wlio gave it unhesitatingly.
Cold-hearted as she always seemed, Mrs .
Van Vecihten had some kind feelings left,
and toutiied by her brother's tale of suffer-
ing, she gave him no word of reproach, and
even unbent herself to say that a brighter
day might come to him yet. Then she spoke
of Boil, announcing her detorrniuation of
following him that night. To this plan Mr.
Browning offered no remonstrance, and when
the night express left the (Jr uiby station, it
carried with it Mis. Van Vetchen, in pur-
suit oi the runaway Ben.

CHAPTER VIII.

NEWH.

Nearly two weeks had passed away since
the exciting scene in Mr. Browning's library,
and during tliat time Rosamond had kept
herself aloof from her guardi.ui, meeting him
only at the table, where she maiiitaned to-
ward liim a perfectly respectful, but rather
freezing manner. Slie was deeply mortified
to think he had won from her a confeision of
her love, and then tcld her how useless —
nay, worse — how wicked it was for her to
think of him. She knew that he suffered
intensely, but she resolutely left him was
growing more and more a wearisome burden,
and wiien, just one week after the library
interview, he received a note in the well re-
membered handwriting, he asked that he
might die and forget his grief. The letter
was dated at the Springs, where Miss Porter
was still staying, though she said she in-
tended starting the next day for Cuyler, a
little out-of-the-way place on the lake, where
there was but little company, and she could
be quiet and recruit her nervous system.
The latter had been terribly shocked, she
said, by hearing of his recent attempt at
making love to Rosamond Leyton ! 'In-
deed, ' she wrote, 'it is to this very Icve-
making that you owe this letter from me, as
I deem it my duty to keep continually before
your mind the fact that I am still alive.'

With a blanched cheek Mr. Browning read
this letter tJirough — then tore it into frag-
ments, wondering much who gave her the
information. There were no spies about his
premises. Rosamond would not do it, and
it must have been his sister, though why
she should thus wish to annoy him he did
not know, when she, more than any one
else, had been instrumental in placing him
where he was Oiice he thought of telling
Rosamond all, but bfi shrank from this, for

she would leave his house, he knew, and,
though she might never again speak kindly
to him, he would rather leel that she was
there.

And so another dreary week went by, and
then one morning there came to him tidings
which stopped for one instant the pulsa-
tions of his heart, and sent through his
frame a thrill so benumbing and intense that
at first pity and horror were the only emo-
tions of which he seemed capable. It came
to him in a newspaper paragraph, whicli in
substance was as follows ;

' A sad catastrophe occurred on Thursday
afternoon at Cuyler, a little place upon the
lake, which of late has been somewhat fre-
(luented during the summer months. Three
ladies and one gentleman went out in a
small pleasure-boat which is kept for the ac-
commodation of the guests. They had not
been gone very long when a sudden thun-
der-gust came on, accompanied by a violent
wind, and the owner of the skiff, feeling
some alarm for the safety of the party, went
down to the landing just in time to see the
boat make a few mad plunges with the
waves, and then capsize at the distance of
nearly half a mile from the shore.

' Every possible effort was made to save
the unfortunate pleasure-seekers, but in
vain ; they disappeared from view long be-
fore a boat could reach them. One of the
bodies has not yet I eon recovered. It is
that of a Miss Porter, from Florida. She
had reached Cuyler only the day previous,
and was unaccompanied by a single friend,
save a waiting-maid, who seems overwhelmed
with grief at the loss of her mistress. *

This, then, was the announcement which
so aff'ected Ralph Browning, blotting out for
a moment the wretched past, and taking
him back to the long ago when he first knew
Marie Porter and fancied that he loved her.
She was dead now — dead. Many a time he
whispered that word to himself, and with
each repetition the wish grew stronger
within him — not that she were living, but
that while living he had not hated her so
bitterly, and with the softened feeling which
death will always bring, he blamed himself
far more than he did her. There had been
wrong on both sides, but he would rather
now that she had been reconciled to him ere
she found that watery grave. Hand in hand
with these reflections came another thought i
bewildering, intoxicating thought. He was
free at last — free to love — to worship— to
marry Rosamond.

' And I will go to her at once, ' he said,
after the first hour had been given to the
dead ; 'I will tell her all the truth.'
He rose to leave the room, but something

ROSAMOND.

and whispered in hit ear,
Bomo niiHtuke. Cuyler ia

ataid him there,

' There may bo

not fur awuy. Oo there Hr^t and inveiti-

jjate. '

Fur him to will waH to do, and telling
Mrs. I'ftcrH he nhould bo absent from honio
for a time, he started immediately for
Cuylor, which he reached near the
close of the day. Calm and b«>uu-
tiful looked the waters of the lake
on that Hummer's afternoon, and if within
their caverns the ill-fated Marie slept, they
kept over her an unruiilod watch and told no
tales ot her last dying wail to the careworn,
haggard man who stood upon the sandy
beach, where they said that she embarked,
and listened attentively while they told him
how gay she seemed that day, and how jest-
ingly she spoke of the dark thunder-head
which even then was mounting the western
horizon. They had tried in vain to find her,
and it was probable she had sunk into one of
the unfathomable holes with which the lake
was by some thought to abound. Sarah, the
waiting maid, wept passionately, showingthat
the deceased must have had Homegoodqualit
ii' , )r she could notthus have attaulicd a»orv-
aiib to her.

Looking upon Mr. Browning as a friend of
her late mistress, she relied upon hmi for
counsel, and when he advised her immediate
return to Florida, she readily consented,
and started on the same day that he turned
his face towards Riverside. They had said
to him, ' If we find her, shall we send her to
your place ?' and with an involuntary shud-
der he had answered, * No — oh, no. You
must apprise me of it by letter, as also iter
Florida friends — but bury her quietly her ,'

They promised compliance with his wishes,
and feeling that a load was o& his mind, he
started at once for home. Certainty now
was doubly sure. Marie was dead, and as
this conviction became more and more fixed
upon his mind, he began to experience a
dread of telling Rosamond all. Why need
he know of it, when the telling it would
chrow much censure on himself. She was
not a great newspaper reader — she had not
Been the paragraph, and would not see it.
He could tell her that the obstacle to his
happiness had been removed — that 'twas no
no longer a sin for him to think of her or
seek to make her his wift;. All this he
would say to her, but notliing more.

And all this lie did say to her in the sum-
mer-house at the foot of the garden, where
he found her just as the sun was setting.
And Rosamond listened eagerly — never
question ng him of the past, or caring to
hear of it. She was satisfied to know that
she might love him now, and with his arm

around her, ihe Mt there alone with him
until the August moon was high up in the
heavens. He called her his 'sunshine'— his
'liuht'— his 'life,' and pushing the silken
cui-Jm from ofl' her childish brow, kissed her
a^ain and again, telling her she should be
his wife when the twentieth day of No-
vember came. That was his twenty-ninth
birth-day, and looking into her girlish face,
he askeil her if he were not too old. He
knew she would tell him no, and she did,
lovingly, caressing his grayish hair.

' He had grown young since ho sat there,'
she said, and so, indeed, he had, and the re-
juvenating process continued day after ilay,
until the villagers laughingly said that his
approaching marriage had put him back ten
years. It was known to all the town's folks
now, and unlike most other matches, was
pronounced a suitable one. Even Mrs. Van
Vechten, who had found Ben atLovejoy's
Hotel, and still remained with him in New
York, wrote to her brother a kind of con-
gratulatory letter, mingled with sickly senti-
Mieutal regets for the 'heart-broken, desert-

It
up

and now departed Marie.'
was doubtful whether she came
to the wedding or not, she said, us
Ben had positively refused to come, or
to leave tne city either, and kept her
constantly on the watch lest he shouhl elope
with a second-rate actress at Laura Keene's
theatre.

Rosamond laughed heartily when Mr.
Browning told her of this sudden change in
Ben, and then with a sigh as she thought
how many times his soft, good-natured heart
would ])robably be wrung, she went back to
the preparations for her bridal, which were
on a magnificent scale. They were going to
Europe — they would spend the winter in
Paris, and as Mr. Browning had several in-
fluential acquaintances there, they would
of course see some society, and he resolved
that his bride should be inferior to none in
point of dress, as she was to none in pomt of
Deauty. Everything which love could de-
vise or money procure was purchased for her
and the elegance of her outfit was for a long
time the only theme of village gossip.

Among the members of the household none
seemed more interested in the preparations
than the girl. Maria, who has before been in-
cidentally mentioned. Her dull eyes lighted
up with each new article of dress, and she
suddenly displayed so much taste in every-
thing pertaining to a lady's toilet, that Rosa-
mond was delighted and kept her constantly
with her, devising this new thing and that,
all of which were invariably tried on and
submitted to the inspection of Mr. Brown,
ing who was sure to apf rove whatever hi

ROSAMOND.

RoHainon«l wore. And thus gayly «pnd the
halcyuii hoiirH, Itiiiiging at Innt the fa(lint{
leaf and thu wuiling October wind ; but to
KuHiiUtond, basking in the Hunlight of love,
there cnnie no warning note to tell her of
the dark NovtMnber day» which were hurry-
ing swiftly on.

CHAPTKH IX.

THR lUTEST AT RIVKRSIDE.

The November days had come. The satin
drcsB wu8 niaile- -the bridal veil sent home
- tlie wreath of orange, too ; and then one
niuniing when the suminer, it would soem,
had come to revisit the sepones of its brief
reiyn, Mr. Browning kissed his bride elect,
and wiped away tne two big tears which
dropped from her eyelashes when he told
iiei that he was going away for that day and
the next.

' Hut when to-morrow's sun is setting, I
shall be with you again,' he said, and he
bade her (juiet the fluttering of her little
heart, whicn throbbed so painfully at parting
witli liim.

' I don't know why it is,' she said, 'I'm
not one bit superstitious, but Bruno howled
so dianuiUy under my window all night, and
when he ceased, a horrid owl set up a
screech. I told Maria, and she saul, in her
country the cry of an owl was a sign that
the grave was about to give up its dead, and
she looked so mysterious that she frightened
me all the more—'

' That Maria is too Buperstitious, and I
don't like her to be with you so much, ' said
Mr. Browning, his own cheek turning slight-
ly pale as he thought of the grave giving up
its dead. Thrice he turned back to kiss the
little maiden, who followed him down the
avenue, and then climbed into a box-like
seat, which had been built on the top of
the gate-post, and was sheltered by a syca-
more. *Here,' said she, 'shall I wait for
you to-morrow night, when the sun is away
over there. Oh, 1 wish it would hurry.'

He wished so, too. sind with another fond
good-bye they parted. The day seemed
long to Rosamond, and, though she varied
the time V,y trying on each and every one
of the new'dresses, she was glad when it
WT.S night, so she could go to bed and 'leep
the tiine away. The next morning the de-
pression of spirits was pone ; he was com-
ing—she should wait for him beneath the
sycamore — pqfsibly she would hide to make
liim believe she was not there, and the
bright blushes stole over her dimpled cheeks
as she thought what he would do when he
tound that she was there.

'Ten o'clock,' Hhc said to hcrnelf, aa she
heard thu|^ whistle of the upward train.
•Seven hours more and he will come.'

Going to her room, she took a book, in
which she tried to be interested, Mucceeding
BO well that, though her windows command-
ed a view of the avenue, she (Ud not see tliu
lady who came slowly up the walk, casting
about her eager, curious glances, and paus-
ing moie than wnce to note the exceeding
beauty of the place. Once she stopped for
a hmg time, and, leaning against a tree,
seemed to be debating whether to turn back
or go on. Deciding upon the latter, she
arose, and quickening her movements, soon
stood upon the threshold. Her ring was
answered by Maria, who betrayed no sur-
prise, for from the upper hall Mrs. Peters
was closely inspecting the visitor.

' Is Mr. Browning at home ?' the lady
asked.

•Gone to Buffalo,' was the laconic reply,
and a gleam of satisfaction flitted over the
face of the questioner, M'ho continued :
• And the young lady, Miss Leyton ? Has
she gone, too?'

• She is here,' said Marin, still keeping her
eye upon the shadow bending over the bal-
ustrade. ' What name shall I give her !'

' No name. I wish to surprise her, ' and
passing on into the parlour, the stranger
laid aside her hat and shawl with the air of
one perfectly at home ; then stating herself
uDon a sofa, she examined tiie room as
curiously as she had examined the grounds
of Riverside.

• It seems a pity to mar all this,' she said,
'and were it not that I hate him so much, I
would go away forever, though that would
be a greater injury to her than my coming
to lite will be. Of course he's told her all,
and spite of her professed liking for me, she
is glad that I am dead. 1 long, yet dread
to see her amazement ; but hist— she comes.'

There was the sound of little, high-heeled
slippers on the stairs, the flutt .r of a pink
morning gown, and then Rosamond Leyton
stood face to face with — Marie Porter ! The
grave had given up its dead, and without
any visible marks of the world prepared for
such as she, save, indeed, the •increased fire
which burned in her black eyes, the risen
woman sat there much as living people sit —
her head bent forward — but her lips apart —
and a look of expectation upon her face. But
she was doomed to disappointment. Rosa-
mond knew nothing of tlie past, and with a
cry of pleasurable surprise she started for-
ward, exclaiming, 'Oh, Miss Porter, I felt
so cross when tohl a visitor was here, but
now I know who 'tis, I am so glad, for I am
very lonelj' to-day. '

ROSAMOND.

The hard woman swept her hand a mo-
ment before her eyes, and with tkat move-
ment swept away the kindly spirit, which
whispered, 'Don't undeceive her. Don't
(|uench the light oi that bright face, nor
break that girlish heart. '

But it was necessary ; Marie Porter knew
that, and though she repented of what she
had done, it was now too late to retreat, and
all she could do was to brea^ the heart of
the unsuspecting girl as tenderly as possi-
ble.

* Why are you so lonely ?' she said, ' This
is a most beautiful spot. I believe I'd like
to live here myself. '

* Oh, yes, 'tis a lovely place. ' answered
Rosamond, ' but — but — Mr. Browning is not
here, 'and she averted her crimson face.

* Is Mr. Browning so necessary to your
happiness ?' Miss Porter asked, and bring-
an ottoman, Ros?.:nond sat down at her visi-
tor's feet and thus replied : ' We talked so
much of him at the Springs that it surely is
not foolish in me to tell you what every
body knows. Now, you won't laugh at me,
will you ? Mr. Browning and I are going to
— oh, I can't tell it ; but, any way, your for-
time-telling is not true. '

' Mr. Browning and you are going to be
married. Is that it?' the woman asked ;
and with a quick, upward glance of her soft,
brown eyes, Rosamond replied, ' Yes, that's
it — that's it ; and oh, you can't begin to guess
how happy I am. He is not crazy either.
It was something else, though I don't know
what, for he never tohl me, and I do not
care to know. The obstacle has been re-
moved, whatever it was, and it has wrought
such a change in him. He's so much younger
— handsomer, now, ai)d so kind to me. I'm
glad you've come. Miss Porter, and you'll
stay till after the wedding. It's the twen-
tieth, and he has bought me so many new
things. We are going to Europe. Just
think of a winter in Paris, with Mr. Brown-
ing ! But, what! Are you crying?' and
Rosamond started as a burning tear fell
upon her forehead.

' Rosamond Ley ton,' said Miss Porter, in
a voice husky with emotion, 'I have not
wept in eight long years, but the sight of
you, so innocent, so happy, wrings the tears
from my stony heart, as agony will some-
times force out the drops of perspiration
when the body is shivering with cold. I was
young like you once, and my bridal was
fixed — ' She paused, and stealing an arm
around her waist, Rosamond said pleading-
ly, ' Tell me about it. Miss Portei-, I always
knew you had a history. Did the man
die?'

' No — no. Better for me if he had — aye,
and better, too, for you.'

This last was a whisper, and Rosamond
did not hear it. Her thoughts were bent
upon the story, and she continued, • Will it
pain you too mach to tell it now ?'

' Yes, yes, wait, ' Miss Portei said, * Wait
until after dinner, and meantime, as I can-
not possibly stay until tlie 20th, perhaps
you will let me see your dresses. '

Nothing could please Rosamond more, and
gay as a little child, she led the way to a
large upper room, which contained her wed-
ding outfit. Proudly she displayed her
treasures, flitting like a bird from one pile
of finery to another, and reserving the most
important until the very last.

'There's the dinner-bell,' she suddenly
exclain.ed, ' I did not tJiink it could be one.
Only four hours more — but come, let us go
down and after dinner, if you'll never tell
Mrs. Peters, nor any body, I'll try
on my bridal dress and let you see
if it is becoming. I want so much to
know how it looks, since Maria put the rose-
buds in the berthe. And then your story.
I must hear that. '

Ais they were going down the stairs Miss
Porter took Rosamond's hand and said,
' How is this ? — Where is my ring ?'

Rosamond could not tell her of an act
which now that it no long«.L liad insanity for,
an excuse, puzzled her not a little. So she
made some trivial excuse, M'^hich, however,
did not deceive brr auditor. But the latter
deemed it wise tu .-lay no more just then, and
silently followed her young friend into the
dining-room. Dinner being over they went
up to Rosamond's chr.mber, the closet of
which contained the bridal robes.

' Two o'clock, ' said Rosamond, consulting
her watch, then bringing out the rich white
satin and exquisite overskirt of lace, she con-
tinued, ' I shall have just time to try this
on, hear y ur story and get dressed before
Mr. Browning comes. How short the day
seems, with you here ! I told him I'd be
sitting in that litte box which you possibly
noticed, built oifcthe gate-post against the
tree. — And he'll be so disappointed not to
find me there, that maybe you won't mind
my leaving you awhile when the sun is right
over the woods. '

'Certainly not,' answered Miss Porter,and
the dressing-up process began, Itrsamond
chatting gayly all the while and asking if it
were very foolish for ner to try on the dress.
' I should not do it, ' she said, *4f you would
stay. Can't you ?'

The answer was a decided negative, and
adjusting her little shpper, Rosariond stood
up while her companion put over her head

ROSAMOND.

J con-

the satin dress. It fitted admirably, and
nothing could have been fairer than the
round, clubby arms and plump, well-shaped
shoulders which the short comings of the
dress showed to good advantage. Now the
lace over-skirt — now the berthe — and then
the veil, with the orange-wreath twined
among the flowing curls, and Rosamond was
dressed at last.

' How do I look ?' she asked, but Marie
Porter made no immediate reply, a id as she
gazed upon the young girl, so beautitul, so
innocent and unsuspecting, who can tell of
the keen anguish at her heart, or how she
shrank from the bitter task which she must
do, and quickly, too, for the clock pointed to
three, and her plan was now to strike the
dove and. then nee ere the eagle came. Sho
would thus wound him more de^^ply, for the
very unceitaint}' would add fresh poison to
his cup of agony.

' How do I look ?' Rosamond asked again,
and after duly complimenting the dress, Miss
Porter added, ' I promised you my story,
and if I tell it at all to-day, I must begin it
now, for it is long, and I would finish it ere
Mr. Browning comes. '

' Very well, I'm all attention, ' said Rosa-
mond, and like a lamb before its slaughterer
she knelt before the woman, bending low
her graceful head to have the wreath re-
moved.

This done. Miss Porter said, ' have you
any camphor handy, hartshorn ? I am some
times faint and may want them. '

'Yes, both, here, in the bathing-room,'
said Rosamond, and she brought them to the
lady, who placed them upon the table — not
for herself, but for one who would need them
more — for poor, poor Rosamond. The dis-
robing proceeded slowly, for the little
girl was well pleased with the figure re-
flected by the mirror. But Miss Porter could
not wait, and when the wreath, the veil, and
berthe were removed, she seated herself by
the window in a position which commanded
a full view of her victim's face ; and forcing
down the throbbings of her heart, which it
seemed to her were audible in that silent
room, she commenced the stoi'y.

CHAPTER X.

THE STORY.

* My home, ' began Miss Porter, ' is, as you
know, in Florida. I am an only child, as
were both my parents, so that I have now
living no nearer relative than a great-uncle
—a superannuated clergyman, who superin-
tends my affairs, and who, in case I die

before he does, whinh is very probable, will
be heir to my possessions.

' It IS now nearly ten years since my father
started for Europe, and I went to an adjoin-
ing state to visit a widow lady, whom I had
met in New Orleans the winter previous. It
is not necessary that I should use real names,
consequently I will call her Mrs. Le Vert.
She was spending the summer on her plan-
tation, which she called her country-seat.
It was a large, old-fashioned, wooden build-
ing, many miles from any neighbors, and
here she lived alone — for her only son, a lad
twelve years of age, was at some northern
school. At first I was very lonely, for the
secluded life we led at Holly Grove was
hardly in accordance with the taste of a
young girl. JStill, I did not mind i+. as much
as some, for I cared but little for gentlemen's
society, and had frequently declared that I
should never marry.

' Towards the last of July, Mrs. Le Vert'a
brother came to visit her. He was a hand-
some, boyish-look mg youth, six months
older than myself— just out of college — full
of life and very fond of pretty girls, par-
ticularly if they chanced to be wealthy. '

' That's a little like Ben, ' said Rosamond,
and Miss Porter continued :

' From the first, Mrs. Le Vert seemed de-
termined to make a match between us, for
her brother was poor, and she fancied it
would be a fine idea to have the Porters' es-
tate come into the Dunlap family. So she
threw us c >nstantly together— talked of me
to him and of him to me, until I really began
to believe I liked him. He, on the contrary,
cared for nothing but my money. Still he
deemed it advisable to assume a show of
affection, and one night talked to me of love
quite eloquently. I had been to a dinner
party that day, and had worn all my dia-
monds. He had never seen them before, and
they must have inflamed his avarice, for I
afterwards heard him tell his sister that he
never should have proposed if I had not look-
ed so beautiful that night. I was irresisti-
ble in my diamonds, ' he said. '

Miss Porter paused a moment to witness
the effect of her last words, but Rosamond
was looking over her shoulder at a wrinkle
she had just discovered in the waist, and did
not heed them. Still she was listening, and
she said, ' Yes — go on. You were looking
beautifully that night. Did you consent to
marry him ?'

' Unhappily, I did, ' returned Miss Porter,
' for I had made myself believe that I loved
him. I wished that he was older, to be sure,
but he said we would wait u itil he was of
a^e. This plan, however, did not suit his
ambitious sister. She knew I intended

1.1

ROSAMOND.

asking my father's approval, and from what
she heard of him she feared he would never
consent to my marrying a poor student, and she
urged an immediate union. But I persisted
in writing to my father, who answered im-
mediately, forbidding me to think of young
Dunlap, ordering me to go home, and saying
he always intended me for John Caslwell, a
neighbouifnjf ours — a millionaire — a booby — a
fool — whom I hated as I did poison.

' Not long after the receipt of this letter I
was suprir^ed by the sudden appearance of
Uncle Bertram, who had come at my father's
request to take me home. This roused me
at once. My father was a tyrant, I said, and
I would let him knowl could do as I pleased,
In my excitement, I fancied I could not exist
a moment without Richard Dunlap, while h ■
declared that life would be a blank for him
if passed away from me. At this moment
Mrs. Le Vert suggested that we be married
immediately — that very night. Uncle Bert-
ram fortunately was a clergyman, and could
officiate as well as any other. In justice to
Richard, I will say that he hesitated longer
than I did — but he was persuaded at last, as
was Uncle Bertram, and with no other wit-
ness than Mrs. Le Vert and a white woman
who lived with her as half waiting-maid and
half companion, we were married. '

Rosan»ond was interested now,andforget-
ing to remove her dress, she threw a crimson
shawl around her shoulders, and dtting
down upon the bed, exclaimed, ' Married !
You married ! Why, then, are you called
Porter ?'

' Listen and you shall know, ' returned the
lady, a daik look setting: down upon her
face.

' Scarcely was the ceremony over, when I
began to regret it — not because I disliked
Richard, but because I dreaded my
father's displeasure, for he had a
most savage, revengeful temper, and
his daughter possesses the same.'
This was bitterly spoken, and she continued
— ' Hardly an hour after we were married, a
negro brought a letter to R chard from an
eccefltric old man for whom he had been
namr;d. In it the old man said he had made
his namesake his heir, provided he did not
marry until he was twenty-five.

' *' I know just how frollickin' you are, ' he
wrote, • and I know, too, how unsuitable
and how unhappy most early marriages are
— so my boy, if you want Sunnyside, wait
till you are twenty -five before you take an
extra rib. I hate to be bothered with letters,
and if you don't answer this, I shall con-
clude that you accept my terms."*

* Mrs. Le Vert fct once suggested that, as
the old gentleman had already had two fits of

apoplexy, and would undoubtedly soon have
the third, our marriage should for a time be
k,.pt a secret. '

• But he didn't consent ' cried Rosamond.
*Yes, he did,' answered Miss Porter,

' and though I, too, said it would be best, I
began to distrust him from that moment — to
think that he preferred money to myself.
Uncle Bertram promised secrecy and wont
back alone, and then commenced a life of
wretchedness, which makes me shudder even
to recall it. With the exception of my own
servant, who dared not tell if I bade her be
silent, the blacks knew nothing of our mar-
riage, and though we lived together as man
and wife, so skillfully did Mrs. Le Vert and
Esther, her white domestic manage the mat-
ter, that for a time our secret was safely
kept. A few of the negros discovered it ere
I left ; but as they always lived in that out-
of-the-way place, it never followed me, and
to this day no human being in Florid.-*, save
Uncle Bertram, knows of the marriage.

' I am very impulsive, and the excitement
being over, my afiections began to cool.
Richard could have kept it alive had he
tried, but he did not. On the contrary he
was alone, and when with me was always
tormenting me with conscientious scruples
about deceiving " the olu man." '

*0h, I like him for that,' cried Rosamond,
' I like him for that. Why didn't you let
him tell?'

'Because,' returned Miss Porter, 'I had
fears that father would disinherit me, and if
Richard lost Sunnyside, we should be poor
indeed. '

A shadow passed over Rosamond's face,
and she said involuntarily, 'I could be
happy with Mr. Browning if we were poor. '

• Marie started and answered quickly,
* What has Mr. Browning to do with my
story ?'

' Nothing, nothing, ' returned Rosamond,
•only I was thinking that if you loved
Richard as well as I do Mr. Browning, you
would not have cared for money. '

' But I didn't,' returned Marie. 'I was
mistaken. 'Twas a mere childish fancy. I
never loved him. I hate him now. '

She spoke vehemently, and w'len Rosa-
mond said mournfully. ' Hate your hus-
band J' she replied, * Yes, more than hate,
or I had never come to tell you this : but
listen — from indifi"«-ence we came to cold-
ness — from coldness to recrimination — from
that to harsh words— from harsh words to
quarrels — and from quarrels to blows !'

She uttered the last word slowly, while
Rosamond exclaimed, 'Not blows, Miss
Porter ! No man would strike a woman,
almost hate him, now.'

ROSAMOND.

The proud lip curled scornfully—
a gleam of satisfaction shot from
tie keen black eyes, and Marie went
on. ' He would say — nay, does say I
was the most to blame — that I aggravated
him beyond human endurance — but he pro-
voked me to it. Think of his swearing at
me, Rocamond — callinc; me a she devil and
all that. Think, too, of his telling me to
my face that he was driven into the marriage
M'hoUy by his sister — that he regretted it
more than I, and to crown all, think of his
boxing my ears ! — he, a poor, insignificant
Northern puppy, boxing me — a Porter, and
a Southern heiress !'

She was terribly excited, and Rosamond,
gazing at her face, distorted with malignant
passion, began to fancy that the greater
wrong might perhaps have lain with her.

After a moment's pause, Marie began
again. ' When we had been three months
man and wife, he wro^e to the old man, con-
fessing his marriage, and saying sundry
things not wholly complimentary to his
bride ; but I intercepted it, read it, tore it
up, and taunted him with it. I believe I
called him a low-lived Yankee, or something
like that, and then it was he struck me.
The blow sunk deep into my soul. It was
an insult, an unpardonable insult, and could
not be forgiven. My Southern blood was all
on fire, and had I been a man, he should have
paid for that blow. I feel it yet ; the
smart has never for a moment left me, but
burns upon my face just as hatred for him
burns upon my heart !'

'Oh, Miss Porter, ' cried Rosamond, as
the former trround her teeth together, ' don't
look so terrible. You frighten me. He
struck you, but he asked your pardon sure ?'

' Yes, he pretended to, but I spat at him
and bade him leave me for ever. His sister
tried to interfere but she made the matter
worse, and as my father was on the eve of
embarking for America, I determined to go
home, and when he came, tell him the whole
truth and ask him to seek satisfaction from one
who had dared to strike his daughter. Rich-
ard made a show of trying to keep me — said
we had better live together and all that,
while his sister called us two silly children
who needed whipping. But I did not heed
it. I went home to Uncle Bertram and
waited for my father, who never came. He
died upon the sea, and I was heir of all his
vast possessions. Then Richard made over-
tures for reconciliation, but I spurned them
all. You've heard of woman-haters, Rosa-
mond — I am a man-hater. I loathe the
whole sex. Uncle Bertram excepted. My
marriage was of course a secret in Florida.
My servant, who knew of it, died soon after

my father, and as Uncle Bertram kept his
own counsel, more than one sought my
hand, hue I turned my back upon tliem all.
' Four or five years ago he wrote me a
letter. He waa then master of Sunnyside,
for the old man left it to him after all. He
was lonely there, he said, and he asked a
reconciliation. Had he never struck me, I
might have gone, for his letter was kindly
enough, but the blow was a barrier between
us, so 1 refused to listen, and exulted over
the thought of his living there alone all hia
days, with the secret on his mind.

* The sweetest morsel of all in the cup of
revenge was, however, for a time withlield,
but it came at last, Rosamond. It came at
last. He loved a beautiful young girl,
loved her all the more that he could not
marry her. '

She drew nearer to Rosamond, who though
still unsuspecting, trembled from head to
foot with an undefinable emotion of coming
evil.

* I saw her, Rosamond ; saw this young
girl with hia^ name upon her lips when wak-
ing — saw her, too, with his name upon her
lips when sleeping, and all this while she
did not dream that I, the so-called Marie
Porter, was his wife, the barrier which kept
him from saying the words her little heart
longed so to hear. '

There were livid spots on Rosamond's
neck — livid spots upon her face, and still
she did not move from her seat, though her
clammy hand clutched nervously her bridal
dress. A horrid suspicion had flashed upon
her, but with a mighty effort she threw it
otf as injustice to Mr. Browning, and men-
tally crying, 'It cannot be,' she faintly
whispered, ' Go on.'

'The summer I met her,' said Miss Por-
ter, ' I was at Cartersville, a little out-of-the-
way place on a lake — '

'You're telling me true?' interrupted
Rosamond, joy thrilling in her tones.

' Yes, true,' returned Miss Porter.

' Then bless you — bless you for those las'-
words,' rejoined Rosamond, buryingher fac*.
in her companion's lap. ' A terrible fear for
a moment came over me, that it might be I.
But it isn't. I met you at the Springs. Oh,
it it had been me, I should most surely
die.'

'But she did not — the young girl,' re-
sumed Miss Porter. ' She had a brave,
strong heart, and she bore up wonderfully.
She felt that he had cruelly deceived her,
and that helped her to bear the blow. Be-
sides, she was ^d she knew of it in time,
for, had he married her, she would not have
been his wife, you know.'

Rosamond shuudered and replied, 'I know.

ROSAMOND.

but my heart would have broken all the
same. It aches so now for her. But go on,
how did she find it out ? Who could have
strength to tell her ?'

There was a pause, and each could hear
the beating of the other's heart. The No-
vember wind had risen within the last half
hour, and now howled dismally past the
window, seeming to Rosamond like the wail
that young girl must have uttered when she
first learned how her trust had been be-
trayed. The clock struck four ! Rosamond
counted each stroke, and thought, 'One
hour more and he will be here. ' Marie
counted each stroke, and thought, 'One
hour more, and I must be jfone. '

' Rosamond, ' she began again, * what 1
now have to confess is an act of which I
have repented bitterly, and never more than
since I sat within this room. But it was
premeditated, and believe me, Rosamond, it
was not done for any malice I bore to that
young girl, for I pitied her so much — oh, so
much, ' and her hand wandered (jaressingly
over the bright hair lying on her lap. .

' We went out one afternoon — two ladies,
a gentleman, and myself — in a small sail-
boat upon the lake. I planned the excur-
sionand thought I shoula enjoy it, but we
had not been out long when my old affec-
tion of the heart began to trouble me. I
grew faint, and begged of them to put me
on the land. They complied with my re-
quest, and set me down upon a point higher
ffp than from which we had embarked, and
near to a dilapidated cabin where lived a
weird old hag, who earned a dcanty lij^eli-
hood by fortune-telling. I told her I was
sick, and sat down by her door where I
could watch the movements of the party. Sud-
denly a terrific tlmnder-storm arose, the
wind blew a hurricane, and though the
boat rode the billows bravely for a time, it
capsized at length, and its precious freight
disappeared beneath tlie foaming wave. For
a moment horror chilled my blood ; then,
swift as the lightning which leaped from the
cloud overhanging the graves of my late
companions, a maddening thought flashed
upon my mind. '

'But the girl — hasten to the part,' said
Rosamond, lifting up her head, while Miss
Porter went back to her chair.

' T shall come to her soon enough,' return-
ed Miss Porter, continuing her story. ' No
living being, save the old woman at my side
knew of my escape, and I could bribe her
easily. Fortunately I carried the most of
my money about my person, and I said to
her. " There are reasons why, for a time at
least, I wish to be considered dead. Here
are twenty dollars now, and the same shall

be paid you every month that you are silent.
No human creature must know that I am
living. " I saw by the kindling of her eye at
the sight of the gold that I was sate, and
when the night shadows were falling I stole
from her cabin, and taking a circuitous
route to avoid observation, I reached the
midway station in time for the evening
train.

' Tree days later in a distant city I read
of the sad catastrophe— read that all had
been found but one, a Miss Porter, from
Florida, and as I read I thought "he will
see that, too !' He did not see it. Before
going to Cartersville I sent to Sunnyside a
girl who was under peculiar obligations to
me, and one whom I could trust. She
was employed at last about the person of
that young girl, who had lived at Sunny-
side since she was a child, a friendless
orphan. '

There was a quick, gasping moan as if the
soul were parting from the body and Rosa-
mand fell upon face which the pillows con-
cealed from view, while Miss Porter hurried,
ly proceeded :

' That is but little more to tell. I wrote
to the girl who took her own letters from
the office. I told her all, and from her heard
that the bridal day was tixed. The obstacle
was removed — not insanity, but a living
wife. Need I say more ?'

She paused, but from tlie bed where the
crushed, motionless figure lay, there came
no sound, and she said again. ' Speak
Rosamond. Curse me, if you will, for saving
you from an unlawful marriage. '

Still there was no sound, save the low
sighing of the wind, which seemed to have
taken a fresh note of sadness as if bewailing
the unutterable desolation of the young
girl, who lay so still and lifeless that Marie
Porter's heart quickened with fear, and
drawing near, she touched the little hand
resting on the pillow. It was cold — rigid —
as was also the face which she turned to the
liglit.

* It is death !' she cried, and a wild shriek
rang through the house, bringing at once the
servants, headed by Mrs. Peters.

' What is it ?' cried the latter, as she
saw the helpless figure and beautiful upturned
face.

' It's death, madam — death, and it's com-
ing on me, too,' answered Miss Porter,
clasping her hands over her heart, which
throbbed as it never had done before, and
which at last prostrated her upon the
lounge.

But no one heeded her, save the g'"l Maria.
The rest gave their attention to Rosamond,
who lay so long in ih^ death-like stupor

ROSAMOND.

that others than Miss Porter believed her
dead.

The clock struck five ! and echoing from
the Gianby hills the engine whistle came.
Then a slight tremor ran through her frame,
and Mrs. Peters whispered joyfully ' There's
life — there's hope.'

Along the highway the returning traveller
came with rapid tread, but 'neath the syca-
more no Rosamond was waiting.

' She is hiding from me,' he said, but his
search for her was in vain, and he rapidly
hastened on.

All about the house was still. There was
no Rosamond at the door — nor in the hall —
nor in the parlor — nor on the stairs ; but
from her chamber came the buzz of voices,
and he entered unannounced, recoiling back-
wards when "he saw the face upon the pillow,
and knew that it was Rosamond's. ■ Every
particle of colour had left it ; there were
dark circles beneath the eyes, and a look
about the mouth as if the concentrated agony
of years had fallen suddenly- upon heri

' What is it ?' he asked, and at the sound
of his voice, the brown eyes he had been
wont to call so beautiful unnlosed, but their
sunny brightness was all gone, and he shud-
dered at their dim, meaningless expression.

She seemed to know him, and stretching
her arm toward him as a child does towards
its mother when danger threatens, she laid her
head upon his bosom with a piteous wail —
the only really audible sound she had yet ut-
tered.

' Rosamond, darling — what has come upon
you?' he said, 'and why are you in your
bridal dress?'

At that word she started, and moving
away from him, moaned sadly, ' It was cruel
— oh, so cruel to deceive me, when I loved
and trus :ed him so much. '

' Won't somebody tell me what this
means?' he demanded, and Mrs. Peters repli-
ed, ' We do not know. There's been a
strange woman here, and she was with Rosa-
mond when it happened. '

* Woman ? What woman ? And where
is she now ?' he asked, and Mrs. Peters
replied, ' She was faint— dying, she said,
and Maria took her into another chamber. '

Mechanically he started for the chamber —
hearing nothing— seeing nothing— thinking
oftheuamclessterrorthat had fallen upon him.
He did not suspect the real truth. He mere-
ly had a vague presentiment that some one
who knew nothing of the drowning had come
there to save his Rosamond from what tiiey
supposed to be an unlawful marriage, and
when at last he stood face to face with his
living wife, when he knew the grave had
given »p its dead, he dropped to tlie floor as

drops the giant oak when felled by the licht-
ning's power !

Marie Porter, even had she been cruelly
wronged, was avenged— fully, amply aveng-
ed, and covering her face with her haiuls.
she moaned, ' I iiaye killed them both, and
there's nothing left for me now but to die 1'

CHAPTER XI.

THE END.

Over the horrid awakening which came to
the wretched man, we need not linger ;
neither is it necessary to dwell upon the first
few days of mystery and dread, when death
seemed brooding over Riverside, and rumour
was busy with surmises and suspi'-ion con-
cerning the stranger, and the relation, if
any, which she bore to Rosamond Leyton.
We will rather hasten on to the morning
when to Mr. Browning the joyful tidings
came that Rosamond was better — so much
better, indeed, that he could see -nd talk
with her if he ckose.

Only once siij^e the fearful night when he
found her moaning in her bridal ' '-.'ss, had
he stood by her bedside— for, ..nough he
longed to be there, he could not endiu'e to
see her turn away from him, whispering as
she did so, * It was cruel — oh, so cruel to
deceive me so. ' Neitlier had he been near
Marie Porter, consequently he knew nothing
of the means by which she had imposed
upon him the story of her deatli. But
Rosamond knew — Rosamond could tell him,
and from no other lips would he hear it. So,
when he learned that she was better, he
asked to see her alone, and Mrs. Peters, to
whom he had necessarily confided the story
of his marriage, carried his message to Rosa-
mond.

For a moment Rosamond did not seem to
hear, but when the message was repeated,
the great tears forced themselves from be-
neath her long eyelashes, and rolling down
her cheeks, dropped upon the pillow.

*He might have spared me this,* she
said, ' but if it is his wish, I can see him.'

With a mighty effort she stilled the vio-
lent throbbings of her heart, forced an un-
natural calm upon her face and whispered —
' Let him come now ; I am ready.'

He was standing without the door, so ^war
that he heard the words, and in a moment
he was at her side. Falling upon his knees
before her, he clasped her hands in his, im-
ploring her forgiveness for the great wrong
he had done her in not telling her the truth
at first. ' But I am innocent of the last,' he
said ; ' believe me, Rosamond, I thought her
dead, or I had never asked you to be my

ROSAMOND.

wife. I know not how she deceived me so
terribly, but you know, and I have sought
this interview to hear the story from
your own lips. Will you tell it to me, dar-
ling — Miss Leyton, 1 mean,' he added hasti-
ly, as he saw a shadow of pain flit over her
face.

' I will if I can, ' she faintly answered,
and summoning all her strength, she re-
peated to him what Miss Porter had told
her, except, indeed, the parts with which
she knew he was familiar.

' The plot was worthy of her who planned
it, ' he said bitterly ; then, as Kosamond
made no reply, he continued — ' she told you,
I suppose, of our married life, and painted
me the blackest villain that ever trod the
earth. This may in part be true, but,
Rosamond, though I may never know the
bliss of calling you my wife, I cannot be
thus degraded in your sight and offer no
apology. I was a boy — a self-willed, high-
tempered boy, nineteen years of age, and
she aggravated me beyond all human
endurance, seeeking ways and means by
which she could provoke me. I loved her
at first — nay, do not turn away incredulous-
ly. Heaven is my witness that I loved her,
or thought I did, but 'twas a boyish love,
and not such as I feel for you. '

* You swore at her, ' said Rosamond, un-
able to reconcile love with an oath.

' Once, only once,' he replied. I blush to
own it, for it was not a manly act. '

' You struck her, ' and for the first time
since he had been in that room the brown
eyes rested full upon his face.

'Yes, Rosamond,' he answered; 'I own
that, too, but she goaded me to madness,
and even raised her voice against my sainted
mother, who had borne so dastardly a son
as I?'

' And Riverside ?' said Rosamond. ' Did
your uncle die deceived ?'

' Never — never, ' Mr. Browning exclaimed,
starting to his feet. 'I told the whole
truth, or I would not have lived here a day.
Rosamond, I have greatly sinned, but she
has not been blameless. She insulted me in
every possible way, even to giving you her
wedding ring, and then, lest I should not
see it, wrote to me "to look upon your
finger. *No wonder you thought me n)ad !'
"' * Her we ding ring ! Could she do that ?'
said Rosamond.

' Yes, hei weddinc[ ring. It first belonged
to Susan, who gave it to me for thepccasion,
and two weeks after I had it marked with
Marie's name and the date of our nmrriage.
It is broken now, and I wt)uld to Heaven I
oould thus easily break the tie which binds
me to her, and keeps me from you ! Oh,

Rosamond, Rosamond, must it be ? Must I
j live my life without you, when I need you so
much — when my heart longs so to claim you
for its own ?'

He covered his face with his hands, and
Rosamond could seethe tears dropping slowly
through his fingers. Terribly was he ex-
patiating the sin of his boyhood, and what
wonder is it, if, in his agony, he cried, ' my
punishment is greater than I can bear !'

Rosamond alone was calm. She seemed to
have wept her tears away, and the blow
which had fallen so crushingly upon hei* had
benumbed her heart, so that she now did not
feel as acutely as the weeping man before
her. Very soothingly she spoke to him, but
she offered no word of cheer — no hope that
all would yet be well. ' Tliey would Dear it
with brave hearts, ' she said, * and he must be
reconciled to his wife. '

* Never — never, ' he exclaimed. ' The
same roof cannot shelter us both, and if she
choofflBS to stay when she is better, she is
welcome to Riverside, but I cannot share it
with her. '

Neither said to the other, * it may be she
will die,' for such a thought had never in-
truded itself upon their minds,and yet Marie
Porter's life was numbered now by days.
The heart disease, from which she had long
been suffering, was greatly aggravated by
the strong nervousexcitement through which
she had recently been passing. Stimulants
of a moat powerful kind had created a kind ot
artificial strength, which haa enabled her to
come to Riverside, but this was fast subsid-
ing ; and when bent over the motionles i
form of Rosamond, and feared that
she was dead, she telt, mdcied, that
death would ere long claim her as
his own. The sight of her husband,
too, had well-nigh been mo e than she could
bear. For nearly uine long years she had
not looked upon liis face. His hair she re-
membered, too— his soft, dark, wavy hair,
through which her fingers had sometimes
strayed, in the far back days at Holly
Wood, before she was his bride. He would
not be greatly changed, she thought; and
when, on that fatal night, she heard his
coming footsteps, she pictured him in her
mind much as he was that winter-day, when,
standing in his sister's door, he bade her a
long good-bye. Nearer and nearer he had
come — faster and louder had beaten her
heart, while a cold, faint sickness crept
over her.

' Open the window — I cannot breathe,' she
gasped ; but ere her request was obeyed,
Ralph Browning had fainted on the thres-
hold, and she had asked that she might
die.

ROSAMOND.

re-

She had seen him only for an instant, but
thai sutiiced to tell her he was changed from
the dark-haired, handsome boy, into the
gray-haired. suflFering man. His eyes had
met hers, but the fierce hatred she expected
was not there ; and the look of utter hope-
less despair which she saw in its place,
touched her as reproach and resentment
could not have done.

' Oh, I hope I shall die,' she said, as she
hid her face in the pillow. ' I hope I shall
die.'

This wish she uttered every hour ; and
wlieii, at last, the physician said to her,
'Madam, you will die,' she answered, ' It is
well !'

She did not ask for Mr. Browning, for she
knew he would not come, but she inquired
anxiously each day for Rosamond ; and
when, at last, she heard they were together,
she laid her hand upon her heart, and watch-
ing its rse and fall, smiled to think how
fast her life was going out.

' Listen, Maria,' she said, ' Listen tn what
they say, and hear if they talk of me. '

Noiselessly Maria glided to the door of
Rosamond's chamber — 8to«d there for a mo-
ment and then as noiselessly came back re-
peating to her mistress the substance of what
she had heard, together with sundry little
embellishments of her own.

' He will give you Riverside and go away
himself,' she said, and Miss Porter quickly
rejoined, ' Go where? Go with whom !'

' With Miss Ley ton of course,' returned
Maria. ' He said he would not live without
her.'

' The wretch !' ejaculated the angry wo-
man, all her softer emotions giving way to
this fancied insult. ' He might at least wait
now until I'm dead. I'll go to him myself,
and see if in my presence he dare talk thus
to her. '

She was greatly excited, and spite of the
painful throbbings of her heart, and the
dizzy sensation she felt stealing over her,
she stepped upon the floor, and hurriedly
crossed the room. The eflFort was too much
for her feeble strength, and she sank faint-
ing upon a chair. The girl Maria had seen
her faint before, but never before had she
seen so fearful a look upon her face, and she
ran in terror to Mr. Browning, beseeching
him to come ' for her mistress was dying
sure, and would trouble nobody much
more.'

For a moment he
when Rosamond said
Taking the fainting
tirnis he laid her upon
ly, though not as tenderly as he would have
Iain his Rosamond there.

hesitated,
'Go,' he

woman in
the bed as

but

went.

his

gent-

• Call Mrs. Peters, ' he said, and when
that matron came, he bade her give to the
invalid every posi^ible care.

Slowly Miss Porter came back to life,
but it was only to faint again, and each faint-
ing fit it became more and more apparent
that life was ebbing fast. They did not say
to Rosamond tliat she would die, but they
told it to Mr. Browning, who heard as one
who hears not. Every other sensation seent-
ed to have given place to a feeling of horror,
and when at the close of the second day
word came to him that she was dying, and
had asked to see him, he arose mechanically
and walked to her sick room as calmly as he
had visited it the previous night, when he
knew she was asleep. One glance, however,
at her white face and wild bright eyes roused
him to the reality, and bending over her
pillow, he forced himself to take her hand in
his, saying kindly, 'Mane, do you know

'Know you?' 'Yes,* she answered.
' You are my husband — my husband. ' She
lingered upon that name as if its sound re-
called to life some olden feelinc — somt
memory of Holly Wood, where they first had
met.

'Marie, you are dying,' he continued.
• Shall we part in anger, or in peace ?'

' In peace, if you will, ' she answered. ' 1
have had my revenge — but it is not as sweet at
some say it is. I would rather, Ralph, that
I had never known you, for them I should
not have been the wicked wretch I am. '

Mr. Browning did not ' ^nly to this, and
for a few moments there was silence, during
which she seemed to sleep. Rousing up eie
long, she gasped for breath, and grasping
nervously her husband's hand, she whisper-
ed, ' I am going now — there's no sham tliis
time — five minutes more, and you are free tc
marry Rosamond. Be kind to her, Ralph.
Deal with her not as you dealt with me, and
— and — come closer to nie, Ralph. Let me
whisper this last so as no one can hear. '

He bent him down to listen, and summon-
ing all her strength, she said, not in a whis-
per, but in tones which echoed through the
silent room — * Never, never strike Rosa-
mond, will you?'

* ***** *

Rapidly the story circulated that the
strange woman who lay dead at Riverside
had been Ralph Browning's wife, and hun-
dreds flocke<i to the funeral, hoping to gain a
view of the deceased. But in this they wei-e
disappointed, for there was nothing visible,
save the handsome coffin, on whose silver
plate was inscribed the word ' Marie. '

Some said that 'Browning' might have
been added to the name, and while (t.hpis

ROSAMOND.

marvelled that the husband wore no badge of
mourning, a few said wisely that the mourn-
ing was visible in other than the usual signs
— m the hair gray before its time, and in the
deep-cut lines which a living sorrow alone
had made. And so, amid surmises of the
past and foretuUings of the future, the ill-
tated Marie was laid in the village vault,
until word could be received from her old
uncle, who might wish to have her rest
among the balmy groves and fragrant flowers
of lier beautiful Florida home.

And now our story winds to its
close. Ralph Browning was free indeed,
but deatli had been at Riverside, and
the shadow it had left must disappear ere he
took to himself a second bride. Rosamond,
too, must recover from the blow which had
fallen so crushingly on her — must learn to
confide again in the man she loved — to think
of the cfreat wrong he had done her as the
result of an' early, boyish error which he
regretted even more bitterly than herself.

And so the warm spring rains had fallen
and the April blossoms were bursting from
the dark, moist earth ere the wedding morn-
ing came. At the bridal there was no satin
dress — no orange wreath — no flowing veil —
bub there wah perfect love shining in the
beautiful brown eyes of the girliyh bride,
while the fine face of the bridegroom wore a
look of perfect happiness, as if the past were

•?*j

all forgotten, and th'' 'i was bright and

new. Europe was th 'lostination.nnd

among those who . mp >! them to New
York, going with tliv .1 to the vessel's

deck, none bade them ii more atTectionate
adieu than Mrs. Van Vechten herself. She
had spent part of the winter at Riverside,
and had learned to appreciate the gentle girl
whom she knew was to be her brotlier'H wife.
Ben. too, was of the party. He had listen-
ed in amazement to the story of his uncle's
first marriage, wondering how it could have
been kept from him, and renienilierinsf
several little incidents, the meaning of which
now he understood. He had given up the
Crimean war, as well as the dancing girl,and
now he had given up Rosamond, too, but he
bore it quite heroically, and ever after took
esppcial pains to speak of her as ' My Aunt
Rosamond.' For more than a year tiie
bridal pair remained abroad, and then re-
turned again to Riverside, where now the
patter of tiny feet, and the voice of child-
hood is heard, for children have gathered
around the hearthstone, and in all the world
there is not a prouder, happier wife and
mother than the little Rosamond who once
on a dreary November day listened, with a
breaking heart, to the story of Ralph Brown-
ing's Youthful Error.

THE UiD,

» ■

,*'■•

ft .rt

* ■

i <

! .'», ■ «.' ('.

.[., I. ,f >,..,:-

* ;•

was bright and
'lostination.nnd
• I tliem to New
to the vessel's
•re affectionate
I herself. She
at Riverside,
the gentle girl
' brother's wife.
He had listen-
of his uncle's
it could have
renieniliering
aning of which
1 given up the
.ncina: girl, and
tl, too, but he
er after took
as 'My Aunt
1 a year the
and then re-
here now the
oice of child-
lave gathered
all the world
ier wife and
id who once
^ned, with a
^alph Brown-