around her. There was no likelihood that we should ever meet again. She would probably marry and forget me. Reason, however, never checked the current of love in the breast of a young man of twenty-six. I yielded to the passion that possessed me, and, as I went about my daily duties, built a thousand castles in air, in each of which myself and Grace Dorland were lord and lady. been agreed on between me and the latter. With the amount-five hundred dollars-added to the farm-profits for the previous year, I bought a little patch of eight and a half acres, which lay between my farm and the main public road. The fact of going about a handsome place and seeing its natural beauties developed by judicious art under my own direction, and the fact that on either side of me lay neglected farms, The summer had not passed-it was about severally of a hundred and nine and two hunthe middle of August-when I went one day to dred acres, which would make up a handsome the post-office, two miles off, to get my newspa- estate if added to my own, engendered covetous pers. The postmaster handed them to me, feelings, and made me think frequently of my and with them a letter having a foreign post-grandfather's missing money. "Where could mark. he have hidden it ?" occurred to me continual I was delighted when I opened it. It was ly. But that was a problem without a probable from Mr. Dorland, and ran as follows: solution. "PARIS, July 9. "Mr. T. A. Story: My agent has bought the Colonel's place for me. I do not like the manner in which it is laid out. From the con- ness, to advance any farther needful amount. I In the mean while every thing prospered with me more and more. My own energy and industry, and my mother's prudent management brought in golden returns. A young orchard, which I had planted on coming to my majority, was now in full bearing; it was a fine season for fruit, and the New York commission merchant, to whom I had consigned my Greenings and Bellflowers, handed me a handsome check when our business was concluded. I was considered by my neighbors to be in "warm" circumstances, and was even talked of for the high dignity of one of the Chosen Freeholders of the county. The preliminary step to this great position, a membership of the Township Committee, had been already attained. It might have been my possible destiny to have become High Sheriff of the County; but though I had decided views in political matters, I left rural honors to more ambitious friends. I may as well, therefore, at this stage of my story say that, although I did become Chosen Freeholder, my preferment has never gone farther. During the ensuing May Mr. Dorland, with his son and daughter, came home. He soon after made a visit to his country residence; expressed himself delighted with the alterations, and the promise which the place gave of greater beauty in the future; set about furnishing and altering the mansion; and then returned to town. I was struck with the alteration in his appearance. There were deep furrows in his face, and his hair was of a deeper gray. I found out afterward that it was on account of his son George, whose health was threatened seriously. The commission involved a labor of love. had long desired to have a place of my own which I could lay out in accordance with my views; and next to that was the pleasure of laying out grounds for some one else, when I had carte blanche as to means. So I went to work at once. I had to make some alterations in the plan proposed. Where Mr. Dorland had indicated a lake on the miniature map he sent I found it impracticable to have it, without water could be made to run up hill. The drive to the house I turned into two, each approaching from different points, and each more than double the length of the single one proposed. The whole grounds embraced a little over three hundred acres, about one-third heavily wooded, and fifteen acres of this was covered by my lake. I drove every thing so rapidly, with a large force of men, that the artificial additions and subtractions were completed by the 1st of November, Certainly foreign travel had improved her when I left it for nature to do the rest. By the manner in the estimation of her friends. She 10th of November I dispatched to Florence, had been presented at court, had moved in the where Mr. Dorland intended to pass the winter, first circles abroad, where her beauty made her a map of the estate, as newly fashioned, and a favorite; but I saw no difference. She seempencil sketches of various views on the grounds. ed the same frank, single-hearted being she had In due time I received an answer expressing been before she had gone abroad. At first, ingratification at the manner in which I had ful-deed, there was a little embarrassment on her filled the trust, and an order on the agent for part for which it was not easy to account, but the exact amount of compensation which had this passed off. VOL. XXVIII-No 163.--E A few days after the family had come to reside for the summer Grace Dorland rode over to see my mother. I now saw a great deal of Grace. Mr. Dorland was very fond of me, and continually pressed me to visit him at leisure hours, consulting me on various alterations and improvements which he engaged in-some, by-the-by, no improvement at all. George Dorland, whose health at this time began to fail visibly, took a strange fancy to me, and haunted me like a shadow. I felt that prudence required I should absent myself from Grace's presence as much as possible; but what young man of that age was ever prudent in a matter of the kind? I heard her say so to a lady yesterday. She says your opinions are good, you know, on every thing." "Well," said I, seeing that he paused, and being still uncertain what response to make. "The fact is that I am confoundedly deep in love with her, you know, and somehow I don't seem to get along. If you would speak a word, you know, you might help a fellow." This was still more startling. I woo Grace Dorland for another! I merely said that I would think about it, and answer him to-morrow. He went away, and I let my men fix the fence to suit their own fancy. I was done with work for that day. That night I slept none. I tossed about uneasily till dawn, when I arose. The fresh morning breeze cooled my fevered head somewhat, and I reasoned the matter clearly. Mr. Dorland had a great many visitors during the summer, and among the rest a Mr. Anson, the young English gentleman whom I have mentioned previously as a guest of Colonel Annis. He was a man somewhere between twenty-eight and thirty, handsome, well-bred, and in the possession of ample means. He was the avowed suitor of Miss Dorland, and her father I felt that I had no hope to win the love of evidently favored his claims. His family was Grace Dorland, nor her father's consent to margood, for he was the heir-apparent to an old En-ry her, if I had hope. Here was a young man glish baronetcy, and the heir-possible-if I may certainly, I hated him thoroughly—but a so phrase it, for there were three lives between it young man of gentle blood, of unimpeachable and him-to a viscount's coronet. To be sure habits, handsome, agreeable, and rich. He it was only a Scotch peerage; but a live lord is could confer on her every luxury - he could something, and the match would be a very brill- surround her with that society for which she iant one for Miss Grace. A very manly fellow was best fitted. If my love were really pure, was Frederick Anson-perfectly at ease in gen- why not urge her to accept what my judgment eral society, but timid before Grace, exceeding told me she should? I gradually reasoned myly. There was nothing, one would think, to self into this view of the case, and when Anson embarrass him there; she was rather cordial called, told him that I would plead his suit at than otherwise to him-indeed to every one ex- once. I dared not, in fact, trust myself for cept me. Her manner to me grew more distant another day. every day, as though she suspected my attachment, and had determined to let me know that I had no hope. I was a poor farmer that year. To be sure I went about my business with method and regularity; but there were divers little pieces of neglect by which my crops suffered. I grew moody too, and irritable; so much so that my mother noticed it and spoke to me on the subject. I parried the inquiries by saying something about my liver being out of order-a most disingenuous answer. If there were any physical disorder, the heart was in trouble, and not the highly important, but less notable viscus on which I threw the blame. One day Frederick Anson dawdled over to my farm to whip my trout-stream. That was the pretext, but there was more behind. After a few casts-without flies, I verily believe-he threw down his tackle and walked to where I was superintending the repair of a fence. He intimated a desire to speak with me, and I walked aside with him. After a deal of preliminary observation, on various queer topics, he burst out at last with "You are a great favorite with Miss Dorland?" Had he fired a mine at my feet, though I might have been more hurt, I would not have been more astonished. I did not know what reply to make. "She is a little reserved to you, I know," he continued; "but she thinks a deal of you. I rode over to Mr. Dorland's. The coast was clear. The father had gone out to take a ride on horseback-a morning practice-his son was with him; but the young lady was at home. At When I entered the presence of Grace Dorland my embarrassment may be conceived. length I opened my mission, awkwardly enough; but had scarcely got well into the subject, when Grace rose to her feet indignantly, and I followed her example. "Sir," she said-but emotions choked her utterance, and she burst into a passionate fit of tears. I spoke on, however, determining to fulfill my task, and her reply was a continuous sobbing, like that of a chidden child. In the excitement of the moment I seized her hand. Recollecting myself, I was about to withdraw my own hand from hers, but her fingers retained mine, with a nervous, convulsive clutch. "Miss Dorland," I said, "I have urged these views because I love you too well to not place the matter before you in a true light. Had I the wealth, the position, and the advantages of Frederick Anson, I would not be pleading for him, but for myself. For I love you-have long loved you-oh, so passionately!—but I am not so selfish--" "You love me," she murmured. "Don't be offended," I replied: "I could not help it, nor help avowing it—but forget all about that. Mr. Anson is a gentleman-” I felt that she was about to fall, and clasped her quickly about the waist to lead her to a chair. She looked up at me-she said nothing -the glance was withdrawn-a deep blush fell over her face and neck-and I felt then that I was beloved with a love that had coexistence with my own. Her lips met mine--he who has loved and been beloved will conceive my feelings -he who has not can form no idea of the happiness of that moment. "By-" The sentence was never finished, but the speaker looked profanity. It was Mr. Dorland who had entered and surprised us both in this interesting position. Grace slid from the room. "Well, Sir," said he, after a short pause, "can you tell me how long this comedy has been going on?" "I can tell you all, Sir, very briefly," I answered. What did I care for his wealth then? Grace loved me. "Suppose you let me hear," he said. I was about to pour forth my thanks when he interrupted me. "After this prostration of my hopes," said he, "I am desirous to be rid of this ungrateful girl as soon as possible. I told you of conditions under which I would give my consent. They are these. I will send at once for our clergyman-you shall be married immediately-and leave my house, never to set foot in it again." He would not listen to his daughter's entreaty, but was as good as his word. In two hours' time we had been married, and were on our way to my house. Grace sobbed a deal, but she soon took comfort, and by the time we arrived at home she smiled and blushed with happiness. And now I shall hurry over a space of more than six years. Grace made me a good, contented, and happy wife. Every year added to my worldly prosperity; and every two and a half years or thereabouts something both costly I told him the simple facts, and I could see and valuable was added to my family. Mr. that he believed me. Dorland held out for three years, during which "Since this is so," said he, "why not carry there was no intercourse between us. At that out your first intention ?" time George Dorland, who had sunk into hopeless decline for some time, died. The lonely father then sought reconciliation with us, to my wife's delight. Our eldest boy, little Francis, soon took his dead uncle's place in Mr. Dorland's heart. The young hopeful came very near being spoiled by his grandfather, and was quite as much at Dorland Park or in Philadel I heard him talking in a tone of expostula-phia as at the farm. There he ruled Mr. Dortion to his daughter in an adjoining apartment, land most rigorously, but the old gentleman and I heard her voice reply. I could not dis- evidently liked it. tinguish the words. The conference was a long one, but it ended in the return of Mr. Dorland, Grace following. I did not dare to look up. "Mr. Story," said he, "the position and merit of my daughter might lead her to aspire to a better match than this." I was about to speak, but he went on. "Don't interrupt me. I know enough of your character, and the impulses of a young man of good principle and unaccustomed to society, to divine what you are about to say. But I made up my mind years since, that in a matter of this kind I would not cross my daughter's inclinations." I looked at Grace. She was radiant. My heart beat audibly, and I could scarcely breathe. Mr. Dorland went on. One day, however, I had been out, assisting to gather my wheat-sheaves into the barn, and on my return went into the library to get a key which lay in a private drawer. Here, though it was prohibited ground, I found Master Francis engaged in mischief. He had gone to my secretary, which happened to be open, taken out a bundle of letters, and scribbled over their backs. By way of varying his amusement, he had served one letter, and that was grandfather Telling's, in a different fashion. He had taken a penful of ink and traced out the water-mark, which was a swelled baton, or staff—a punning allusion by the maker to his own name, Baton I ex and the ink marks were on the written side of the sheet. I gave the little fellow a sound spanking, and his outcries brought his grand"If you marry when and how I wish, she is father and his mother to the rescue. yours. She has chosen, and she must abide the plained the cause of the punishment, and showconsequences. No heroics, if you please. I un-ed the inked letter. derstand all that. It is proper that I should tell you one thing. My fortune is intended for my son. I will give Grace a marriage-portion -don't interrupt me-money to the value of your property and no more. You shall never receive a cent from me besides-unless-" and He stopped, picked up the letter, regarded it he curled his lip sarcastically-"unless that with a stare of astonishment, and then exammissing money of your grandfather should hap-ined it with great minuteness. pen to turn up, when I pledge you my word to match it dollar for dollar." "Pooh! pooh!" said Mr. Dorland, taking Frank in his arms; "there is no great harm done after all. There, hush crying, dear, and go to my room, and I'll show you something funny. That silly letter is only—” "You "See that!" said he, triumphantly. owe little Frank a ton of sugar-candy at least." It was now my turn to look astonished, and marks which Master Francis had made, it preto regard the letter intently. With the ink sented this appearance: My dese Grand Son :- You have come to a state unpleasant if you find the means to make from me "Read downward," said Mr. Dorland, "and you will see the words: 'You will find the cash under the big pear-tree, east.' That had been my grandfather's favorite spot to sit and smoke during the summer days. Of course we lost no time in digging at the place indicated, and there the missing money was found. It was all in gold, amounting to over one hundred and eighty thousand dollarsa huge sum, but less than people supposed the old gentleman possessed. It must have been buried at various times, as it was in several tin boxes, some of which were so rusted that they broke as we raised them, and others again were entire and in good condition. And thus the Telling Treasure was recovered. G. Telling, not mine; but the old lady waived her rights. Of course I bought the coveted farms on either side of me. Mr. Dorland was reminded jocularly of his promise to match dollar for dollar whenever the treasure was found; but he declared that he was unable to fulfill his pledge on a notice so short. We had a merry time that evening. I may mention, what I forgot to do, that Frederick Anson was very much startled at the marriage of Grace and myself, and left the country in disgust. He is now a baronet, and there is but one life between him and the Scotch peerage. I don't envy him, however, though he is Sir Frederick Anson now, and Viscount Craigies in prospect, while I am just Telling A. Properly the money was my mother's, and Story. OUR AN EXPERIMENT. and yon, with them. I feel sometimes as if they would hate me, and I almost hate myself UR little girl was growing up in a way that for it, standing guard in the way I do. But surprised her mother and myself. She was the only child we had, and of course it was a great thought with us what we could do for her that would prove best and wisest the right thing altogether. Considering what our one girl has been to us, I am filled with amazement when I read of the patriarchs and their tents full of children. Letting young ones take their chances seems such a dangerous way of doing the business, though I know it is quite possible, on the other hand, to train a child out of all common sense, common usefulness, and earthly and heavenly beauty. Indeed I've seen it done. Where there's a houseful of children it isn't likely any one of them will grow up with the notion that the world was made particularly for him, or with that everlasting craving for some new thing which, when he comes to be a man, you may safely bet on it, will amount to a spirit of depredation and ravage and covetousness that will stop nothing short of Bathsheba with David, or the Temple with Herod, Piracy with John Bull, or a profane clutch at the Monroe Doctrine on the part of Louis Napoleon. how can I help myself? Who will stand guard if I don't? It isn't your business, unless you see that I'm incapable. If she were away from home a while all this would be broken up." I feel as if I ought to say here that my wife wasn't in the habit of expressing herself in this manner. I had never seen her so roused and so disturbed as she was now. I was going to say "And we, too," when she spoke of this necessary breaking up—when it occurred to me that it had probably cost my wife the greatest effort to make this proposition. So I said, "Well, Phoebe, what is the rest of it? For of course you haven't thought as far as this without thinking further. What do you mean we shall do about Pauline? Are you sure it would be the wisest thing to put her beyond temptation, supposing we could do it?" "Yes! out of such temptations as she has. I don't believe it's likely that Pauline would ever get to thinking as these other girls do, that home is the last place in the world agreeable to stay in. But every one of those girls ought to be at home three-fourths of the time you see them patrolling the streets. There's actually work to be done by somebody whose back and feet are aching-whose tired faces ought to make them blush. But if you want to make the saucy, worthless jades hate you, just hint to them there's some need of them off the sidewalk. Pauline is contented, I think. She's an For my part I should have been perfectly content if Pauline had been supplied with only so much learning as her mother could give her. But she had been sent to the public school in Salem-her mother insisted upon it-and now there was another plan working in Phoebe's mind: that I could see well enough long before she was ready to share it with me; for the wo-obedient child, she knows her duty, and she man was clear as crystal. does it; but she can not learn much more at One evening as we sat in the piazza after tea this school in Salem, and she's learned quite she said, "Just us, we must do our duty by enough of such companions as she has. I dePauline." clare, Justus, I'm terrified when I ask myself "Yes, truly, I hope so." That was the an- what's going to become of these young people." swer I made to Phoebe. "Send Pauline to Lucy for a bit," said I; I "But we're not doing it, Justus," said she, felt like a coward saying it. I could never have after a little pause. "How is that?" I asked; and I confess I wondered that she should bring a charge like that against herself and me. "Is it possible you don't know what an idle, restless, worthless set of girls is coming on here in Salem ?" "What kind of girls, Phoebe ?" said I, opening my eyes wide as if I were filled with amazement at her speech. Indeed I was surprised; and for her sake, as well as my own, I wanted she should express her opinion a little more clearly-differently I mean. Phoebe didn't like my question, for she answered, quickly, "Is it possible, Justus, you haven't noticed what perfect vagabonds these girls are getting to be! I wish our minister would preach on some of the proverbs of Solomon till they should see there was some application to be made of them. It's enough to frighten one-at least it frightens me, to see the way they swarm about this house. And, therefore, always a good reason why Pauline should go up and down, hither made such a proposition except in extremity; and the expedient I had never thought of before dropped from me as if it were the result of deliberate meditation. My wife surveyed me with the profoundest satisfaction. "I've been thinking of it for days," said she. "There's nothing else to be done.” "Lucy has been urging us to visit her this long time-why not go-say to-morrow? Any day you are ready I am." "There it is again!" said my wife in a tone of such unmistakable displeasure as brought me to my feet. I don't know that I was ever more startled by any word of hers. My mild acquiescence in, and attempt to further her wishes, had met with a response which would have moved me to indignation if it had not surprised me so much. But as my eyes followed hers to the streetcorner, on which her eyes were set, what did I see? An explanation at least of her wrath. There was our Pauline, walking along the pave |