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omy. inthe county. lites asd nos, --81.50 Fen anvvm] | : fio VOLT, No. 20] bus D NORTE TE ER LL RET = ones SE iene ate gmuiy rors PORT PERRY, THURSD sloy mm El ane. Bleeds oh : NOTHING BUT/LEAVES, fron 'the first a { fe Port Pry Standard Mn WHITBY, Nothing but 6aved, the spicit grieves ture; which is to be al Pl BROCK SZ. WHITBY, | 8 var a pared nie, _o _| the colossal 'bag: ANDNORTH' ONTARIO ADVERTISER. |. © | | | ODAWES Proprietor | Or sins indulged A #lept, | girl on the kerbstond A TERR: [i 398 a HL] erprrtreteemrrerree semerreer and; pro ' $e +118 PUBLISHED , | Hinob 4 . : And reap from years of si ; Add > b A THE 'RAILROAD HOUSE Nothing but leaves, shall'liave passed, mi 'Every IHURSDAY Morning ~~ Jes B DU IOAThy ina Xv e , ma Boil y !* A% wun ovvion FORT PEERY. Nothing but leaves, te wibosed sheaves, WOILSN. ORY RE ORES 'LNPAXTONS NEW BUILDING, QUEEN i "STREET, PORT PERRY, C.W., "And contains Notices of 'the Political, So- cial, nd: Moral' of the. day; Ag+ : ; grow ts ; an BR, of with carefully selected ny ) ' : -b! Tumis! <L$1.50' a year; but $1 1f paid in -advaiice, ii 1 TERMS' OF ADVERTISING. en lines and under--3 insertions... . . $1.00 */Aba¥e ten lines, 1st insertion per line...08 Bach subsequent insertion. ... vi... .02 . K@ Proffessional 'and business Cards, six + lines and under, $6 per sunum, $3 for six months. From six to ten lines, $8 per an- Ham, "'9g* Merchants and others can contract "fora cértain'space, with the privilige of (baving new matter inserted at the end of every three months, on favorable terms. I Displayed Advertisements are meas. 'ured by a scale of solid Breyier, and charg- accordingly. : 3 Advertisements sent without written "Ynstractions will be inserted until forbidden and charged for full time. Fry X37 No casual Advertisements inserted unless paid for in advance. Merchants will be expepted to pay quarterly. ¥3* Orders for di ini dverti iments must be in' writing, 'otherwise-the publisher will not be responsible. JOB DEPARTMENT. Because of our intreased facilities Pamph- lets, Hand Bills, Posters, Programmes, Bill Heads; Blank Forms, = Circulars, Check Books, Business Oards, Receipt Books, Ball Oards, &c., &c., of every style and color, can be executed more promptly, and at low- or prices than at any other lish B. MUNDY, Editor and Publisher, © Business Birectory. ONTARIO HOTEL! 'N!SINCLAIR, - - 4 PROPRIETOR. g ny A I] iw Bubscriber begs to state that having «de-farnisted the above establishment, the travelling ie will fipd jt to bes most Wiaforiab nfortable home, ** : Gobd 'Stabling, attentive' Ostlers, and the'best of ncopmmodation are 'always at the service of our customers. X37 The Bar is kept constantly supplied. with Liquors of the choicest brands, i Parties wishing to enjoy.a day or two of Fishing or hunting on Lake Scugog can always be accoinmodated with good boats snd Fishing Tackls, = \ « SINCLAIR. tf, 'Port Perty, August 8, 1 Houseofall N ations. PORT PERRY, C. W. JOHN KIRSTEN - - - PROPRIETOR, Fishing or shooting eg for Lake Bcugog will find at this house good boats, guns, and tackle. ' A new and commodious Hall has lately been built 'in connection with this House 22 x 80 feet, called Port Perry Hall, and is open for Political Meetings, Balls, Cou- certs, or Shows. The, Bar is well supplied with choice Wines, Liquors and Cigars. ; 1 Good. Stabing and Attentive Ostlers. "Port Perry: August, 8, 1866. 1-tf THE ROBSON HOUSE! (LATS BORIPTURE'S HOTEL,) DUNDAS STREET WHITBY, C. W. GEORGE ROBSON - - - Proprietor. Ti subscriber begs to announce that he has leased 'the building formerly known as fecipyre's Hotel, for & term of years, and that he has now renovated and furnished the Bullding throug premiges. are pleasantly situated, opposite the Post Office, and in the centre of the Town. * The Railway Omnibus calls at the Hotel, and the Stages for| Uxbridge and Beaverton leave the door every morning. g Eriind a XJ Qareful ostlers sway in 3iiendance, ACHEUS' BURNHAM, Judge of thet 0. Rf N. Qounty and Surrafisis: Courts. Augast 10, 1868. Tf, Office at the Court House. 1 -- NORE RRR Cur OAMPBELL, Esq, Warden. AW) Address, Brooklin, P, 0. rE tree reed: 9 'M. PAXTON, Jr,, Treasurer. Office, at the Oourt House. i 3 LE a HAM PERRY, Registrar. Office on eo: Brock St. 1 EI ARETE ] RN oY IR, Engineer. Office, at the urt House. * 1 I= HOLDEN, Official Assignee. Office in McMillan's Block, Brock Bt. 1 J: MACDONELL, Clerk of the Peace eo and Copnty Solicitor. 1 1 V. HAM, Deputy Clerk of the Crown o and Pleas; Clerk of County Court and Registrar of the Surrogate Court. Office at the Court House. ol (Q00uRANE & COCHRANE, Barristers, Attornies, Conveyancers and Notaries Publis, ho. Iu ce Albert, office opposite ~ the Town Hall. Port Perry, office in Bi ' lows Block. $T = 8. H. Ooomgaxs, WML COOHRANE, Oo. Orown Atty. Port Perry. J HAMER GREENWOOD, Attorney-at- '¢) o Law, Solicitor in Chancery, Notary Public, Conveyancer, &c., Whitby. Rooms next to the Registry office, Brock st. 1 J. WILSON, Barrister, Attorney-at- R. Law, Solicitor 1' Ohancer: y jp Office next to Registry office, Brock street, 'Whitby, w" 1 E MAJOR, Liosssep Avoriowmss, for eo. the County of Ontario. Days for gles fixed, and Terms made known, at this ce. LBERT SPRING, Li0osxsz0 AUCTIONEER for the Townships of Reach, Brock, Uxbridge and Scott. Orders taken at this office, and days of sale appointed. BURNHAM, Clerk of Third Division /¢" Court, County of Ontario. ' Orrion--Over J. Biglow's store, Poi Perry. 3 : a ROYAL CANADIAN BANK! PORT PERRY AGENCY. x "1" JOSEPH BIGELOW, = | if JOSEPH, B Wis MARRIAGE ' LICENSES | py abrmontvy, 0 Issued ot Port Perry. ornon--if Se Ho ki . HENRY OHARLES. spring: rons the middle of the Lot Also! 'St Liot 8 in the 8rd con, Reach; containing 28 acres, i " " * JOSEPH BIGELOW. Port Perry, 21st August, 186. ay DR. JONES, FOR THE COUNTY OF ONTARIO, PRINCE ALBERT. N. McCLINTON, M.D. Physician, Surgeon & Accoucheur. Office & Residence--Sonya, Brock. TEMPERANCE EXCHANGE EATING HOUSE! MANCHESTER. Good Accommodations for Travellers. Mzans at all hours of the day. Good Stabling and attentive Ostlers. JAMES PARKIN, Proprietor. Manchester, Oct. 3rd, 866. 81 » . . Bricks & Drain Tiles Tee subscriber wishes to acquaint the ; Public with the fact that he has now on hand sa large quantity of Bricks and Drain Tiles, at his | Yard, in Port Perry, And is prepared to increase his operations to meet the increasing demand. The subscriber is also prepared to take Contracts for the furnishing and laying up of Bricks in houses, &c. JAMES GOOD. Port Perry, Aug. 7, 1866, 3m Br Tre RS SE SS Sr I NOT OFF THE TRACK! BUT RUNNING AT THE RATE OF : AND . 260. Each for Lettergraphs | i --~ALSO-- WATCHES and CLOCKS, ! AND | Jewelry and Accordeons KF Repaired at J. A. OLARK'S "Photograph Oar, Brock St., Uxbridge. 14-tf Uxbridge, Oct. 30, 1866. EALER -in Drugs, :Obemicals, Dye- tuffs, Patent Medicines, Turpentine, Combe, Coal Oils, rs, Wicks, ) dha dbo groves} Drugs, Ohen ale, ko. nr 7 "Teeth Glofilly Filla; Sole, or Marsh & Trounce's old stand. J. H. BACHE. Port Perry, Oct.17, 1866. Of life's fair opening grain; Weisow our seeds, lol tacos ad weeds, ords, idle words for earnest deeds, | Wé'renp with soil abe aig , Nothing bat leaves, ® ii Nothing but leaves, s4d membry weaved'; No vail to hide the past, And as we trace our weary way, Vf Counting each Jost and mis-spent day, Sajly we find at last-- yi : othing but leaves. Ahliwho shall thus the master meet, Bearing but withered leaves? Ah! who shall 'at 'the Saviour's feet, Before the awful judgment seat! Lay.down, for golden sheaves, . Nothing but leaves? S---------------------------------------- Lady Audley's Secret! CHAPTER XXIIL ' © cuara. : Pray lose no- time in Epturning to the house,' he said earnestly. 'I fear you will soffer from this morn- ing's work. Ty ban ' saline she exclaimed, scornfully, 'You' to me of suffering, when the only creature in this .world who ever loved me hae been taken from me in the bloom of youth, What can there be for me from henceforth but suffering? What is the cold tome ?' she eaid, flinging back her shawl and baring her beautiful . head to' tho bitter wind. 'I would walk from here to London barefoot through the snow, and neyer stop by the way, if 1 could bring. him back to life. What would I. not do to bring him back? What would I not do. Tuc words broke from her in a wail of passionate sorrow; and clasping her hands before her face, she. wept for the first time that day. The violence of her sobs shook her slender frame, and she was obliged to lean against the trunk of a tree, for support, Robert looked at her with a tender | compassion in his fate; she was so like the friend whom he had loved and lost, that it was" impossible for him to thinkof her as a stranger; impossible . to. remember that they had met that morning for the first time. a 3 ' Pray, pray be 'calm,' he said, i" hope even against hope, We may both be deceived, your brother may still live. ! 'Ohl if it were 80,' she murmured, passionately; ' if it could be so. 'Let us, try and hope that it may be so.' . ; 'No she answered, looking at him through her tears, 'let us hope for nothing but revenge. Good bye, Mr, Audley. Stop; your dddress,' : He gave her a card, which she put into the pocket of her dress. 1 will send you George's letters,' she eaid; * they may help you, Good- bye, She left him half bewildered by the passionate energy of her manner, and the noble beauty of her face. He watched her as she disappeared amongst the "straight trunks.of the fir-trees, and then walked slowly out of the plantation, ¢ Heaven help those who stand be- tween me and the secret,' he thougkt, "for they will be sacrificed to the $2 a doz. for Photographs, | memory of George Talboys. CHAPTER XXIV. GEORGE'S LETTERS. Robert Audley did not return to Southampton, but took a ticket for the first up-train that left Ware ham; and' reached Waterloo bridge an hour or 'two after dark. The snow; which had" been hard 'and drisp'in Doreetshire,'was a black and ficuay slush in the Waterloo road, hawed by the flaring lamps of the gin'palaces and the glaring gas in the butchers'shops. = *What a pleasant thing life 'is,' thonght the barrister. © What an unspeakable boon--' what' an over- powering blessing! Let an make 'a calcatation of his existence, gubtradting fhe ee on which ne as been 'thoroughly happy--rea and e ily t ik ones arrierg pense t0 mar his enjoyment Sat th ir itepmial ni e brightness' of his out one horrizon. Let him do' this 'and something t at she wanted him to be sutely he will laugh in atter dark- peas of soul when he sets' down 'the sum of bis elicits, and discovers the pitifal smallness of the amount. = , 'Look at marriages, for instance,' mused Robert, who was as 'medita- tive in the jolting vehicl miler a0 if ng on fe. prio. Look at marriages! 0 is to say which shall be the one nine mistakes? Who shall decide SELECT READING. |i man, | ing. She drags her husband on. to cloud | and sovews, and. pulleys; until some: "| Seconds; and they riot in battle, and ta: | tion. If they can't agitate the uni: o for, whose | verse and play at' ball with hemis- occupation he was to pay nce a | pheres, they'll make mountains of he had Po ding a | welfare, vexation out of domes: the wide loneliness of judicious selection out of the ninety- fowl owed doit be ide ud ERTS i TUITE W forentlo fra waowodntafelsl ated ni ip dear i "I vd oa vi bowlovar |) between? vv dortie pied CN wi ia 1 Aid 40) ane {3 gaiviyg | EA woe aha * BI Rain ren warn] ara soovaici lf vai vim EB ooo4 $1.00 PER ANNUM, IN ADVANCE. tren: ot & | That, girl ontue kerbatone der, waiting, 0 'cross the street my. chai the who cold make me afl Yet I pass her by. 1 with thie mud from 1 {helpless ignorance; mission do the awful If that girl; Clara Tally five minutes later, 1 I'Dorsétshire, t i and unwormanly, and Whisuld have gone to my grave with dat mistake' ps and parcel of my whind, I took er for a state yd ha@tiless auto- | 'maton; I know Hor iow ilhtbe a noble 'ahd beautiful woman. What an in | calculable difference thighnaly::mdka in my life, i left fthat house, t into the wintée day. with the determination of abafidoning all further" thought 'of 'théfsccret of George's: death. I seco', and she forces me onward upondhe lvath- some, path--the crooke@iby way. of watchfuliess and suspin., How can I'say tq this sister hy' dead friend, * I believe' that brother has been murdefed | ove that I know by 'whem, bat I take no step; to set my; doubts a or to confirm my fears I' Ica say this. This woman Knows half secrét; she will soon pussess heigl of tlie rest, and thén-+-and 'then #4" The cab stopped in the Robert Audley's meditatio had to pay the cabman, submit to all the dreary mechanism of life, which is the same oy y e todb nidst of ard he glad or sorry--whether married of hung, eleval woolsack, or disbarred by er;benchers 'on //some "m, technical = tangle of .wro which is a social enigma, outside the forum domesticus Middle Temple. wad cabman to drop him at of Chancery-lane and he the brilliantly lighted. e : ing to the dining saloon of The Lon- don, and seated himself at one of the snug tables with a confused sense of | emptiness and weariness, rather than any agreeable sensation of healthy hunger. 'I accept the dominion. of that pale girl with the statesque features and the calm brown eyes,' he thought, '1 recognize the power of a mind 'superior to my own, and I yield to.it and bow down to it. Pve been act- ing for myself, and thinking for myself, for the last few months, and I'm tired of the unnatural business, I've been false to the leading princi- ple of my life, and ve suffered for my folly. I found two grey hairs in my head the week before last, and an impertinent crow has planted a delicate impression of his foot under my. right eye, Yes, I'm getting old upon the right side; and why--why should it be so?' gr He pushed away his plate, and lifted his eyebrows, staring 'at the crumbs upon the glistening damask, as he pondered the question-- "What am I doing in this' Galere? he asked. 'But I am jn it, and I can't get our of it; so I'd better sub- mit myself to the brown-eyed girl, nd do what ghe tells me, patiently and faithfully. What'a wonderful solution to life's enigma there" id' in petticoat government! Man might lie in the sunshine and cat lotuses, and fancy it 'always afternoon,' if his wife would let him! 'But she wont; bless her impulsive heart and active mind! She knows better than tbat. Whoever heard of a woman taking life as it ought to be taken? Instead of supporting it as an unavoidable nuisance, only redeemable by its brevity, she goes through it as if it was a pageaut or a procession, She dresses for it, and simpers, and grins, and gesticu- lates for it. She pushes her neigh- bors, and struggles for a good place in the dismal march, shé elbows, and writhes, and tramples, and pran- ces to the one end of making the most of the misery! She gets up 'early and sits up late, and is load, and restless, and noisy, and uopity- the woolsack, or pushes him into Parliament, She drives him full butt at the dear, lazy machinery of government; and knocks buffets him about the' wheels, and cranks, body, for. quiet's sake makes him made. are Semirandes, 'and Cleopatras, dnd Joan of Arcs, Queen Elizabeths, and | Catherine: the murder, and clamour, and despers- tic molehills; and social storms in household teacups. Forbid them to hold forth upon the freedom of i : 2h af " - thie: shape ofa mid or) the! chat: f|ter of a smal d-servant. To /Jercature, © in this yol | ft | Wtfaight brown Tiair, and uplifted the 4 dark muss in his despair. | seemed dreary in their arderly quiet eal them therivdakip sex: is!tol lutte idpous; gnockery.. Bhey are the ongek sex, i ongek scx, the, ngisigr, the mo raoveivg, lie thon Lf aid ha » yred by hor- | ror, and: pawe: shape one syllable of these teller words. ft CHAPTER'XXY. youing? barriste: ly his hand ours hove fultoly A sex.' hoy 5 --anyt hs they : u Mr. Audley pushed "his * hands: "throagh the thick' luxuriance of his +d hate women,' lie thought, sav- agely. 'They're bold, brazen abom inable creatnres, invented for the annoyance and destruction of their _saperiors, Look at this bukiness of' poor George's! Its all | women's work from one eid to the other. «He' marries. a. woman, and his, father casts him off 'penniless ang Brofes oman's sionless. He liears of the death and he breaks his heart--his good, honest, manly heart, worth a million of the treacherous lumps of self-interest and mercenary, calcula tion which beat in women's breasts, He goes toa' womah's houseand he is never seen alive pgain. And now another woman, of whose existence I had never, thought until this day. And--and then," mused Mr. Audley, rvither "irrelévantly,' there's Alicia, 00; "she's another 'nuieance. She'd like me: to cwrry hevl know; aud she'll make me do it, I daresay, be: fore she's done with, 'me, But I'de much rather not, though she is a dear, bouncing, generous'thing, bless her pour little heart. Rovert paid his bill and rewarded | the waiter liberally. The snug rooms in' Figtree-court to Robert Audley upon this particu lar evening. He bad no inclination for his French novels, though there was a pucket 'of uncut romances, comic 'and sentimental, ordered a month before, waiting his, pleasure upon ove of the tables, He took hi "It's comfortable, but it scems so londly to-night. If poor George were sitting opposite to me, or--or even George's sister--she's very like him--existence might be a little more endurable. But when a fellow has lived by himself for eight or ten years he begins to be bad company.' He burst out laughing presently, a8 he finished his first pipe. "The idea of my thinking of George's sister," be thought; ' what a preposterous idiot Iam I" \ The next day's post brought him a letter in a firm but feminine hand, which was strange to Him. He found the little packet ' iy. ing on his breakfast-table, Leside the warm French roll wrapped in a nap- kin by Mrs. Maloney's careful Lut rather dirty hands, He contemplate the envelope for some minutes befor opening il--rnot in any wonder as to his correspondent, for the latter bore the post mark of Grange Heath, and he knew. that there was only une per- son who was likely to write to him from that obscure village; but in that lazy dreaminess which was a part of his character, ' From Clara Talboys," he murmur. ed slowly, as lie looked critically at the clearly-shaped letters of his name and address. * Yes, from Clara Tal- boys, most decidedly; I recognise a feminine resemblance to poor George's hand: neater than his, and more decided than his, but very like, very like. He turied the letter over and ex- amined the seal, which bore his friends familiar crest. I wonder what she says tos me I' he thought. '1's a long letter, I daresay; she's the kind of a womau 'who would write a long letter--a Tetter that will urge me on, drive me forwatd, wrench me out of myself, I've no doubt. But that can't be helped--so here goes I « 7 He tore open the'envelope with a sigh of resignation. It contained nothing but' George's two letters, and a few words written on the flap: '1 send the letters; please preserve and return them. --C. T.? The letter, written from Liverpool, told nothing of the writer's life, ex- cept his sudden determination . of starting for a new world, to redeem the old. ' The letter, written almost immediately after George's marriage, contained a full description ot. his wife--such a description as a man could only write within three weeks of a love-match,--a description in which every feature was minutely catalogued, every grace of form or beauty of expression fondly dwelt upon, every harm of manner loving: 1y depicted. . . 'Robert Audley read the letter three times before he laid it down, * If George could have known for nations and wrongs of mankind, and they'll quarfel with Mrs. Jones abotit serve when he wrote it,' thought the wrioty of ocenpatien; do thes? Tet oot rcashes, ssa, oor, d tors ) it Tet them be quiet--if they can.) | whose spare bedrooms were always I find myself driven into a eoruer by |! the fortunes that had been ruined in | what purpose this description would |. a on Jonuary Ilyngth slowly out. of Cristmas BY, and Robert lingered in towu--atill lonely evenings. in his quiet sit om in Fig-icee-court, still wandered listlessly in the Tem- ple Gardens on sunny mornings, absently listening to the children's babble, idly wa!ching their play. He had many friends :among; the inhabi- tants of the guaint old buildings pound him; he had other friends far awayain pleasant country. places, at Bob's service, whose cheerful fire sides had snugly luxurious chairs specially allotted to him, But he seemed to have lost all taste of com- panionship, all sympathy, with the pleasures and occupations of his class, since the disappearance of George Talboys. The ome idea of his life had become his master. He was the bonden slave of one gloomy (iougbL oto horrible présentiment. Al dirk Gloud ' wag broodipg above his uncle's house and it was his hand which'was to give the signal for the thunder-clap and" the tempest that was to Fain thut noble life. ¢ If she wouldonly take warning and yun away,' le said to 'himself sometimes. a 'Heaven knows, I have given ber a fair chance. Why doesn't she take it and ran away? He 'hoard' sometimes from: Sir Michael sometimes from Alicia. The young lady's letter rarely contained more than a few: curt Jines, informing him that her papa was well; and that Lady Audley wasin very high spirits, amusing lLierself in her frivo- lous m nner, and with her usual dis- regard for other: people. A letter from Mr. Marchmont, the Southam schoolmaster, i going on very well, but that he was behindhand in his education, 4nd had not yet passed the intellectual Rubi: con of words of two syllables. Cap- tain Maldon had, called to see 'his grandson but that privilege had been withheld from Lim, in accordance with Mr. Audley's instructions." The old man had furthermore - sent a. percel of pasiry and sweetmeats to the little boy, which had also been rejected on the groand of indigesti- ble and bilious tendencies in the edibles. Towards the close 'of February, Robert received a letter from his cousin Alicia; which burried him one step further forward - td wards his destiny, by causing him to return to the house from which he had been in a mauner exiled at the instigation of his nncle's wife. 'Papa is very ill' Alicia wrote; ' not dangerously ill, thank God; but confined to his room by an attack of low fever which has succeeded a violent cold. 'Come andsee him, Robert, if you have' any regard for your: nearest relations. He has spoken about you several times; and I know he will be glad to have you with him, Come at once, but say nothing about this letter. _* From your affectionate cousin, ' Avrcia) A sick and deadly terror chilled Robert Audley's heart, as he read this letter--a vague yet hideous fear, which he dared not shape into any definite form. 'Have I done right?' he thought, in the first agony of this new horror --¢have I done right to tamper with justice, and to keep the secret of my doubts, in the hope that I was shield- ing those I love from sorrow and disgrace? What shall Ido if I find him ill; very ill; dying perhaps upon her breast? . What shall I do?' One course lay clear before him; and the first step of that course was a rapid journey to Audley Court. He packed his portmanteau; jumped into a cab; and reached the railway sta- tion within an hour of his receipt of; Alicia's letter, which had come by the afternoon post. The dim village lights flickered faintly through the growing dusk when Robert. reached Audley, He left his portmanteau with the sta- tion master and walked at & leisure- ly paicé through the quiet lanes that, led away to the still lonliness of the Court. § nits } A mournful presentiment crept in- to Robert Audley's heart as he drew | nearer to his uncles house. Every: changing' outline "in the landscape was familiar 'to him; every bent of the trees, every oaprice of the un: trammelled branches, every undula- tion in the bare hawthorn ge, broken by dwarf horse-chestnuts, stunted willows, blakberry and! hazel bushes. ¢ What would become of this place [ WHOLE No. 20. as he drew nearer to the ivied arch- way, and the still water-pools, coldly grey in the twilight; * Would other people live in the old house, and sit under the low oak ceilings in the homely familiar rooms? Ouly one solitary light was visible in the long irregular range of win- dows facing thie archway, as Robert passed under the. gloamy shade of the rustling ivy, restless in the chill moaning of thé wind. He, recog- nized that lighted window as the large oricl th his. uncle's room. old house it had been gay with visitors, every window glittering like a low star in the dusk; now, dark and silent, it faced the winter's night like some dismal baronical habitation, deep in a: woodland soli- tude. ¢ The man who opened the door to the unlooked-for-visitor, brightened ps he' recoguized his = master's nephew. _ 'Sir Michael will be cheered up a bit, sir, by the sight of you he suid, as he ushered Robert Audley into the fire-lit library, which seemed desolate by reason of the baronel's easy chair standing empty on the broad hearth- rug. * Shall I bring you some din- ner here, 'sir, before you go up stairs?' the servant asked. 'My Lady and Miss Audley have dined early during my master's illness, but I can bring you anything you would please to take, sir.' I 'Ill take nothing until I have scen my uncle, Robert answered, hur- riedly; 'that is to say, if I can sce him at once, He is not too ill to ra- ceive me, I suppose?" hLe added, anxiously: : _ 'Oh, no, sir--not too ill; only a little low, sir, This way, if you please.' ' He conducted Robert up the short flight of shallow vaken stairs to the octagon chamber in which George Talboys bad sat so long five months before, staring absently at my lady's portrait. The picture was finished less brilliant hues were Killed by the vivid colouring of the modern artist. The bright face looked out of that tangled glitter of golden hiir, in which the Pre-Raphaelites delight, with a mocking smile, as Robert paused for a moment to glance at the well-remembered picture. Two. or three moments afterwards be bad passed through my lady's boudoir and dressingroom, and stood upon the threshold of Sir Michel's room. The baronet lay in a quiet sleep, his arm lying outside the bed, and his strong hand clasped in his young wife's delicate fingers. Alicia sat in a low chair beside the broad open Learth, on which the huge logs burn- ed fiereely in the frosty atmosphere. The interior of this luxurious bed- chamber might have made a striking picture for an artist's pencil. The massive furniture, dark and sombre, yet broken up and relieved here aad there by scraps of gilding, and mas- ses of glowing colour; the elegance of every detail, in which wealth was subservient to purity of taste; and last, but greatest in importance, the graceful figures of the two women and the noble form of the old man would have formeda worthy study for any painter. Robert paused upon the threshold, fearful of awaking his uncle. The two ladies had heard his step, cau- tious though he had been, and lifted their heads to look at him. My lady's 'face, quietly watchiog the sick man, had worn an' anxiously earnestness which made it only more" beautiful; but the same face, ~ recoguising Robert Audley, faded from- its deli- cate brightness, and looked scared and wan in the lamplight. 'Mr. Audley!' she cried in a faint tremulous voice. warning gesture; 'you will wake papa. How good of you to come, Robert, she added, in the same whispered tones, beckoning to her cousin to take an empty chair near the bed. : - The young man seated bLimstlf in the indicated seat at the bottom of the bed, and opposite my lady who, sat close beside the. pillows. He looked long and earnestly at the face of the sleeper; still longer, still more earnestly at the face of Lady Audley, which was slowly recovering its natural hues. / + He has not been very ill, bas he I' Robert asked in the same key as that in which Alicia had spoken. My lady answered the question. - "0h, no, not dangerously il]; she said, without taking her 'eyes from her hnsband's face; but still we have been anxious, very, very anxious, ; 'TO BE CONTINUED. There are only two things worth looking at in a hofse--action and soundness; for I never saw a critter if my uncle were to die ?' lie thought, that bad good activn that was a bad beast. bas ; CB . When last by Jad looked at the now, and hung iu the post of honour i e windov Py * Hush!' whispered Alicia, with a oped