Six months after our marriage a gentleman came in a carriage to my house, and asked to see me alone. I conducted him to my library, and closed the door.

He was a man of polished address, and evidently of strong character. He introduced himself as Dr. Vaux of the private insane asylum at Hillside. At this announcement I felt a slight consternation and bewilderment, that I think was apparent in my

manner.

"About a year ago," said he, after some preliminaries, "I received a patient whose name may not be unknown to you-Mr. George Sloewick."

"Good heavens!" I cried.

"You know him ?"

"I have known him very well."

"Yes. He was placed in my care by his father; pronounced insane by his family physician. I have given his case the best care and particular attention, but he is incurable. At present his physical strength is fast failing; in short, I fear he is dying. But as life fails reason returns, and as I now consider his state perfectly natural, and his reason lucid, I feel required to treat his wishes with indulgence. He desires to see you, and I have come for you."

"For me?" I said, involuntarily. "He has made in my ear some dying confessions that induced me to seek you without delay," continued the doctor, significantly.

The words went through me like a knife. I felt myself tremble violently. I rose to my feet, and for an instant the grave professional countenance of the physician was not before

me,

for the lovely and appealing face of Velore Vere hovered in the air within my vision close to my swimming eyes,

"Take some water," I heard the doctor say. "It will calm your excitement."

tals of the asylum. My companion gave me some refreshment, for I was, I confess, very nervous, and then I followed him through several light pleasant corridors to a door.

"Is he quite prepared to see me?" I asked. "He is waiting," was the reply.

I was ushered into a chamber of moderate size. The light was subdued. A woman stood at the side of a bed fanning the ghastly face among the pillows. The head was shaven, the cheeks deeply fallen; I never should have known George Sloewick-not even by his voice.

"Come close," he said, in a strained whisper, motioning me to the bedside.

Dr. Vaux placed a chair for me, and stood with a hand upon my shoulder.

"I can talk only a moment," said Sloewick, with a painful effort. "I killed her-I killed Velore Vere. You see I had money hid there under a chestnut tree, all the money I could get. My dog saw me bury it. He was a sagacious brute. He dug it up, and I killed him for it. I was burying him near the spot, and I was all marked with his blood, you know, when she came and saw me. I thought she saw all, for there lay the bags of money as Sultan had pawed them out of the dirt. It was all the hiding-place I had; I thought she would tell, and I determined to kill her. Perhaps, after all, she did not see the money; I don't know; but I pretended sick the next day, and told her that I was in great trouble, and wanted to talk with her. She promised to meet me near the bridge. She came. I strangled her. Then I hid all day in the woods. At night I heard you calling her. I stole out, and tried to kill you too; I thought I had. Then I ran away and got safe to the city. No one ever suspected me.

"You see I'm dying now. Don't let any innocent man suffer for what I did. The

"Now you are better. You understand all I can tell you, I think," he added, after a moment. "The murder of that beautiful girl, with which the country rang two years ago, is no longer a mystery."

I rose and began looking for my hat. When a servant had brought it, I followed Dr. Vaux to his carriage.

I was too confused to observe what course we took. I only realized, with a sudden

You will know it because it is splashed with Sultan's blood."

He stopped here. He evidently wished to say more, but was unable. The doctor started forward and raised him to a sitting position. When he laid him down he was dead.

As Sloewick had said, the money-some five thousand dollars-was found; but no one appropriated it, and it was donated to a charitable institution.

VICTORIA ROSSITUR leaned down from the saddle, and held her gloved hand condescendingly towards Stephen Lincoln, with a smile that displayed to the fullest extent every one of her dazzling white teeth, saying:

"You will be there to-night?" “Will you?"

"Certainly I shall."

"Yes."

And then she rode away, her elegant habit falling over the shining side of the handsome horse, her hair and the drooping feather from her odd hat floating back in the air, like a dark pennon, and Stephen Lincoln stood like a statue until the purple haze in the distance swallowed up the beautiful vision.

"What a fool he is!" said Ferd Favor, lashing the tops of a dwarf rosebush that grew near the piazza of the hotel.

'Why!" drawled his chum, Mat Ellingwood. "She is the handsomest woman I ever saw, and would fascinate a sultan."

"You are as big a fool as Steve!"

"And why, pray, is the man a fool? Do you call a man a fool for admiring, or even falling in love with the most beautiful woman in the country?"

"I do, when that woman is the artful designing hypocrite that I know Vic Rossitur to be. He ought to know her. He met her a year ago, when he was in a law-office studying, copying, doing drudgery, for aught I know, and she never took the trouble to recognize him on occasion of their second meeting. Now, because old Lincoln, his miser of an uncle, has had the grace to die and leave him all his property, our fair Vic remembers distinctly that she has seen Mr. Stephen Lincoln before, and forthwith shows her white teeth and gives him her first dances. And he, one of the noblest fellows that ever drew breath, believes her an angel. He will find out his mistake."

"How ?"

"I will help him."

The object of their conversation having watched his enchantress out of sight, now came up and checked them. Verily, this man was one of Nature's noblemen! His face-with its rich healthful color un

What a grand fellow he was!

Ferd Favor worshipped him. There was something heroic to Ferd, who was a big bunch of weakness and good-nature, in a man who could get up at sunrise with a steady hand and an appetite for breakfast, and push back the wine at dinner with a polite "no, thank you," and nothing more; or that could throw aside his cigar and novel, and go out at a moment's warning for a wild gallop across the fields or a row down river.

It was a shame that he should fancy Vic Rossitur-a woman whose heart, if she ever possessed one, was withered and deadened by hundreds of flirtations, by love of money and contempt of poverty, and by the crushing out of every emotion that tends to make a woman worthy of her name.

Ferd clapped Lincoln on the arm with an indifference so studied and affected, that lazy Mat Ellingwood indulged in a subdued explosion, and lost his meerschaum over the piazza railing.

She

"The sweetest woman you ever saw. used to be my sister's seamstress and governess, but a little sum of money came to her recently, and so she is now independent." "And you are in love with her, hey, Ferd?" "Me!" with supreme contempt. "I shall not marry these ten years; and if I do, it will not be my luck to get a good wife. I shall get a regular out-and-out demon-like Rossitur, for instance."

The clear eyes wandered away, and a flush reddened his cheek. "Jupiter, Steve! Ray and the babies. introduce you."

There she is. There's
Come along, and let me

A pretty group came up the lawn path, consisting of four children that had arranged themselves in a little flight of stairs, from four to ten years of age. With them, holding them in check with a gentle hand, came a young girl. She was years younger than Vic Rossitur, but she had eyes that had been wet with tears, and lips that had quivered with grief, and all that Heaven could bestow upon a mortal shone forth in her lovely face.

A heavy mass of silken brown hair waved itself in a natural coiffure from her low forehead, and unconfined fell over the snowy shoulders that peeped from their covering of black grenadine. Eyes blue and deep, a healthful glow, a happy face, made Ray Verne's beauty, and Stephen Lincoln saw and honored it.

"Vic!" Ferd Favor impatiently pulled the lace of her snowy shawl that night, and beckoned her very near the window out of which Lincoln had that moment stepped. "Well, what is it?" she asked, drawing

near.

"Are you really going to marry Lincoln ?” "Did he hire you to ask me ?" "Hire! It sounds like him."

"No, it does not! Well, yes, I think I shall marry him. He is better than any of the rest of you. And he has more money." "Not so much as Perrin, yonder." "He is finer looking. Perrin is an idiot." "Vic, Lincoln is too good for you." She laughed a saucy defiant ripple. "He will not be, ten years hence, if he marries me." And she floated down the room, gathering her laces in a fleecy cloud about her; and Ferd, the confidant of the world at large, who was supposed to know everything and say nothing, sat back and hummed an opera.

Ten minutes after, Stephen Lincoln had the hand of the angelic-faced ex-governess upon his arm, and led her past Miss Rossitur without a glance toward her from his splendid eyes.

"What's the matter, Ferd? are you going to have a fit?" asked Ellingwood, just then. "No; but I've got the best trumps in the pack. You can bet your pile on me."

Ellingwood went off in disgust, and so did Vic Rossitur, before the drawing-room was emptied. She had been very sure of winning that magnificent looking man, his elegant home, and his love. She was sure of winning but for that idle gossiping tongue of hers,

which had been set in motion by Ferd Favor. She wondered very much that after that night he avoided her, or gave her when they met the same respectful politeness that he gave the sex, and no more. She had been too successful in life to doubt her power, or believe that a rival could exist, and so she believed him jealous, and in her old style flirted and thought to wound him.

The summer was well nigh past, and she was thinking one afternoon, leaning over the piazza railing, that Lincoln was too deeply wounded, and that something must be done or she must lose him, when Ferd Favor came up.

"Come down to the little house at the end of the walk, Vie. I have something to tell you."

She had nothing else to do, so she put her hand on his arm and walked down.

It was a cosy place, quite covered on two sides by an old grapevine, and it was a wellknown retreat for lovers. As they neared it, Vic drew back, and held Ferd firmly.

That quiet-faced girl, Ray Verne, was sitting there, crotcheting a gayly-colored mass of worsted into some inconceivable thing, and Stephen Lincoln's hand was resting for the moment on her head.

"How busy you are, darling. Are these fingers never weary ?" he asked.

"This is not work. This is play." "You make play of everything. Ah, pet, there are so few like you in the world."

There was no earthly reason why he should have kissed her just then, but he did, with an at-home air that was an evidence that it was not for the first time; and Ray only flushed a little, and looked prettier and happier than before.

"Why did you bring me here ?" asked Vic, with bitterness.

Fred laughed a little.

"To show you that all men are not fools, and that there are other women in the world besides yourself."

"Is this all you wished to say?"
"Yes. Isn't it enough ?"
"Yes, quite."

She never forgave him, for, said she, "Had it not been for him, I might have been in Stephen Lincoln's carriage to-day, instead of that bread-and-butter Ray Verne."

It might have been so, but Heaven or Ferd Favor mercifully ordered it otherwise, to the lifelong happiness of Stephen Lincoln and his wife Ray.

CHAPTER VIII.

⚫ IN WHICH I AM HUGGED, BUT NOT BY THE BEAR.

BEN's two "shavers" bore the names of Dave and Kit, respectively. Though not as tall, they were both considerably heavier and stronger than myself. Dave, the elder, was very good-natured, yet rather soggy. But Kit was a genius. His name had rather puzzled me, at first. I then learned that "Kit" stood for Christopher Columbus, and on this wise. Ben's early education had been a little neglected. He hadn't learned to read till after his marriage. But Mary (the pretty ruddy woman who met her lord in the door) could read, and had taught the art to Ben. One of the first books Ben had perused, was a "Life and History of Columbus." He had finished it about the time of Kit's birth; and had become so impressed by the character and important services of the great navigator, that he had named his second son after him, as a humble tribute from an obscure admirer. But these facts were learned afterwards. On the evening of our arrival, something was

evidently "in the wind" with Dave and Kit; and as it drew near eight o'clock, they began to hold little whispered conferences, and frequently went into an adjoining room. At last they went out into the yard; but presently Kit's head reappeared in the door, beckoning me to come out. I went out. They were both in front of the door. Dave began to say something, but laughed. Whereupon, Kit asked if I knew what day it was? "Thursday," said I.

of the girls you know."

I hid as directed, and saw Dave and Kit

"Yes-we go up easy and hang it on the door, and then knock and run. And then they out and chase us-like blazes too, sometimes. And it's an awful disgrace, you know, for a boy to get caught and found out! We most always catch the girls, though."

"What do you do then ?" I inquired. "Do? why kiss 'em, and go home with 'em!" cried Kit, bravely. "Dave don't, though! He don't dare to!" "I do too!" exclaimed Dave. "He don't either," said him one time last spring. hung him one, one night;

Kit. "I watched There was a girl and she didn't run

a bit fast. Wanted him to catch her, I know.

boys had got back to my hiding-place before the door opened and Amy and Sam came out. They secured the basket, looked about a little, and then went back into the house.

"O, they've no spunk!" exclaimed Kit. "But wait till to-morrow night, and you'll see the fun!"

We went back home, and to bed up in an open unfinished chamber. I could see "The Dipper" through the cracks in the roof! But there were no "buttons." Anything but buttons for me. During the night somebody removed my pants from the foot of the bed and sewed up the rents made by the bear. No questions were asked; but I made it a point to keep Mrs. Cromley's woodbox filled all that day. Ben went back to the "pits" taking his ox-team. He was going to bring the bear home when he came next. I had intended to go with him; but hanging Maybaskets promised such sport that I gave it up. During the day I posted up on the subject still further, and by night felt competent to hang one myself. We prepared the baskets

“That's all a lie!” cried Dan, indignantly. "Kit thinks he's an awful brave chap among the girls! But I just hope Nell Bellenger will get hold of him to-morrow night, that's all!"

"Who's Nell Bellenger ?" I asked.

"O, she's one of old Bellenger's girls. We're going to hang for them to-morrow night. They're game one, I tell you. Gave us a most unmerciful race, last spring. They caught Billy Burns, too, and did something to him he never'd tell what-Nell's so strong, she handles us any way, you see she's sixteen, and a good deal bigger than we. Janet's smaller; she's my age. Kate is about Kit's age. Then there's Lucrece, older; she's seventeen. O, it's risky going there, but it's fun!"

and one for the redoubtable Nell. Mrs. Cromley helped us weave them, and furnished a quantity of preserved "flag root." Dave and Kit had already laid in a store of candies and maple sugar. I had a scarf-pin and an odd shirt-stud, which I put in for my share. Evening came, but we waited until half-past nine-till old Bellenger should be abed. The night was hazy but moonlit.

"Rather light," said Dave, as we made our way furtively along the road.

"Can you run fast, Guy ?" asked Kit.

I prided myself on being a pretty fleet runner. What with Bonny and others, I had had considerable practice.

"Well you have to pick up, I tell you," said he. "They rush out the moment we knock. They're always on the lookout these nights."

We were to make three "heats" of it; and

"I'll tell you," said Dave to me; "you'd better hide here behind that stump, seeing you don't know much about it. Kit and I will go up and hang it, and then run back

logs about a quarter of a mile below. Kit was to hang the first one, Dave the next, while I claimed the honor of pinning on the third. But in order to distract the chase, we were all to go up each time, and run off in