r
i MARRIED FOR MONEY
BY THE DUCIinSS,
AUTnoii or niYM.is." "molt.y
BA1VN." ETC., KTO.
CHAPTER II. Continued.
! ""So you know Mr. Mervyn?" aho
Bays coolly.
i "A little. It would take a clever
man to really know him. He it is
rather awkward, all tilings considered
but ho is tho one enemy I have on
earth. . One would wish to be at least
on cood terms with one's wife's
r-frtend?
" Your enemy !"
' It occurs to her as strange, even at
this moment, that llaudal Mcrvyn had
not mentioned his acquaintance with
her husband.
" Well, that sounds rather theatrical
.Let us say that ho objects to my society,
Once I found him out in but that
can't matter now. "What remains is
i tho certainty that he would do mo a
bad turn if he could."
! "And you hate him?"
' "1 really don't know," says George
(Harrington. "I don't caro about soil-
ling my fingers at any tinlo; and at
! least I could hardly surpass the injury
llio has done mu."
i "At least you know all now," alio
mays.
"it Is a pity, for both of us, I did not
Iknow it sooner."
" If I had told you, you would not
have married mo?" she says.
At this ho stares a little, and then
says contemptuously,
"Your alfection for him must be
igrcat indeed if you gave him up for tho
mere cake of lilthy lucre."
"It wasn't that," alio says; "and
there i3 no good to be gained by an ex
jilanation now. "When my declared in
dlfforonco to you did not induco you to
forego your determination to marry
me, nothing else would."
" There you wrong me," he says'coldly.
"I am at least an honest man. I never
hanker after my neighbor's goods."
Sho pales a little at this insult, but
says nothing.
"May I ask," says Harrington pres
ently, "why you did me tho lienor to
marry mo?"
"To tell yon what you already know
would bo waste of time."
" I can hardly believe you sacrificed
your love and your whole lifo for the
sake of r.WKi. u year. Jt isn't good
enough."
" You put it wrongly," slio says, with
some passion, rising in such a violent
fashion as she pushes t lie chair on which
she has been sitting far from her,
" How daro you think that! Wero you
Crowis himself I would not iiavo mar
ried you, but for my father's sake."
"I had no idea your father was so
dear to you," retorts he, with a sneer.
" He owed your father money; ho
could not repay it. There was' only
one way, and I -I was sacrificed! Now
thatjou mndo mo nay what you already
know, are you satisfied? Is your re
venge complete ? 1 1 was well arranged
between you all."
Then, in a second, her passion dies.
" Why discuss it?" she says, with tho
old calm llstlessncss.
' " Your father owed mine money!"
repeat! he, in a somewhat stunned
manner, his face very pale.
"Yes." Then, witli a contemptuous
Btnile, "you would have me believe you
knew nothing of it?"
1 "On my soul, I didn't, says Harring
1on. "All this is a revelation, lean
aiow road between tho lines. My poor
father! so this hi Low ho bought to so
curo my happiness. Alas, how difficult
'a thing it ia to mcddlu with tho threads
of life! Itut your father, cries ho
lleiccly, " what shall bo said of him?"
"Anything you like, says Florenco
coldly. "Tho worst ytu could say
would neither pain nor offend mo. I
have done with him for over. So
much gratitude 1 owe you."
"Don't oveibunlen yourself," says
Harrington drily. Ho pauses for a mo
ment, and considers a little; and then
iigain turns his face to hers. "Mayl
ask you again," ho says, " what you
now intend doing? Is it to bo homo,
or Italy, or where?"
" Deckle for yourself," returns sho
curtly.
" 1 must consider you too." Ho says
this very gently. "However divided
our interests may be, wo are, unfortu
nately bound to each other until kindly
death steps in to do a good turn to ouo
or tho other of ua. Theroforo to
precipitate ourselves again so soon
upon tho friends wo iiavo left behind
will only create comment, and mako
matters oven more awkard for us than
they aro already."
Nio bowh her head, but says nothing.
Sho is looking pale and exhausted, and
ul most incapable of speech.
" Then let us go on to Paris," say3
Harrington. "It will bo dull for you,
but wo need stay there only a week.
When wo return to our homo you can
cauily explain that we; yes, we will
be decidedly tho best pined for a homo
Christmas, and so wo caini) back sooner
than wo first intundud. Nobody will
boliovo you, I daro Bay; but at least uo
body can prove tho lie."
Yes, It is a good plan," sho says
heavily, conquoriiig, by a supremo ef
fort, tho sense of weakness that is over
powering her,
ly rises as oho speukB, and stands
resting her hand on tho buck of her
chair.
"As f.ir thiiweek you are to put in
with me atone," says Harrington hur
ricdly, "don't let it distress you. You
will dine with me, for the sake of ap
pcarances and tho prejudices of your
maid; but beyond that I promise you
shall sec mc only when you desiro ray
presence."
"I thank you for that, at least," sho
says gratefully.
There is a note of passionate relief
in her tone. She makes a step forward
witli a face the color of death. Then
something happens to the wall3 of the
room, she hardly knows what, but sho
dines out her arms affrightedly, as
though to keep them away from her.
"Florence!" cries Harrington, hurry
ing tovard3 her.
She sways slowly forward, and, but
for his arms, would have fallen heavily
to the ground.
CI I APT Kit III.
"I am Just kUx lo leap Into tlio dark."
" We take no note of timo but from
its loss," says Y'oung. To Florence
Harrington these seven days in Paris
arc each one a century in itself, whoso
death is longed for even as its birth is
known. Now, back again in her nativo
country, she feel the hour3 no whit less
wearisome, and chafes and writhes be
neath the yoke that has been laid upon
her.
Sho let her thoughts run with wilful
directness upon the man she loves, or
at least believes she could have loved
had things gone smoothly with her, and
one day is startled by finding herself
face to face with him.
According to some people, Mr. Mer
vyn is a very nice young man. Ho cer
tainly is nice in the matter of clothes,
and feet, and figure; and whatever hair
his barber leaves him curls really
beautifully.
"When Florence finds him standing
m her path with his lint off, ho is look
ing specially handsome, and full of
melancholy. He was not, perhaps, quite
so melancholy the moment before, but
ho must love her indeed to grow so do
spondent tho very instant he sees hor
or sees that she sees him it is almost
the same.
lie really does feel some dejection as
ho gazes at her charming face and notes
how it pales beneath his gaze. She
might have been his, lie tells himself,
had tho Fates been moro propitious.
Hy which lie means, if tho Fates had
endowed her with a liberal income
And now it is all over, and tho man ho
hates most on earth has stolen her
from him.
Hut .v it all over? he asks himself,
as he watches her changing face, and
notes the deep discontent bosomed in
her lovely eyes. To work the undoing
of his enemy seems to Mr. Mervyn a
very pleasing pastime wherewith to
while away these dreary winter days.
Hour by hour this thought grows
with him, and strengthens into a posi
tive determination, to lower tho man
who had once lowered him in tho es
teem of his fellows. It is his sweetest
dream by night and day, and after a
while he tells himself, with a fierco
glow of delight, that lie has succeeded
oven beyond his utmost expectations.
To Florence his love is but a secondary
consideration when compared with her
wild longing to escape from a thraldom
into which she has been forced. A mar
tyrdom tho more terribly degrading
in that she believes Harrington to bo as
indifferent to heras sho to him.
And r.o tho perishablo days coino and
go, and uio dreary silent Christmas
creeps past them, and tho New Year is
at hand.
Opening the door of the library, she
enters the room quietly, and goes up
to where Harrington is sitting. It is
quite ten o'clock, yet thero is some
thing about her of wind and fresh chill
that suggests tho possibility of hor hav
ing been abroad, even on such a night
as this.
It is rainless, truly, but tho frost is
biting, and tho snow is falling softly
between earth and heaven.
Harrington, however, expresses
neither surprise nor displeasure. His-
ng courteously, ho moves to ono side,
thus dumbly inviting hor to como to
the fire.
"I am not cold," sho says with a lit
tle deprecating gesture.
" Kxerciso provides tho best warmth,
certainly," returns ho quietly.
"Yes, I havo been out," says Florenco.
"A little imprudent, don't you
think?" inquires lie, knocking tho ash
oir his cigar, and finally throwing the
cigar Itself (with what appears to hor
almost a regretful glance) into tho llro.
" What?" sho says sharply.
"Your meeting him in tills sort of
way, and unattended."
She starts as if shot, but rallies dl-
ectly, and walks straight up to tho
llro.
" 1 didn't know you wore your own
detective," sho says coolly; "but as it
is so, 1 am glad of it. It simplifies
matters; and makes it easier for mo to
tell you why 1 camo hero to-night."
"After all, my words but expressed n
mental certainty," ho says slowly; "1
had nothing to build upon. Do not
teach yourself to think more harshly of
mo thun you need. When I saw you
had been out, of eourso I know Well,
and you havo something to toll mo, you
say?"
' Yos, It is on my mind, and I must
get rid of it. This Ufa wo aro landing J
I uan stand it no longurl"
" It Is dull, certainly," says Mr. Har
rington. "One cannot blamo you for
Buch a speech as that. Even J find it
insupportable."
"Well, I am going," says Florenco
recklessly.
" Yes! and witli whom ?"
" You know; Randal Mervyn," ro
plied she, with a defiant glance. It is a
glance, too, so full of weariness, and
almost childish anger, that from his
soul he pities her.
" I think, perhaps, you might have
made a better choice," he says. "Hut
that is your own affair. Existence
here, I know, is barren to tho last
degree, buthow do you propose im
proving it?"
"Any chango must bo an improve
ment." She creeps closer to the fire, as if
chilled, and holds out her small hand
to the genial warmth. A ray from the
fire catching tho diamonds in her rings
draws iicr attention to them. Slowly,
mechanically, sho slip3 them from her
fingers one by one, and lays them on
the chimney-piece.
" 0, pray don't do that," says Har
rington. You will miss them, and they
aro of no earthly uso to me. It seems
to mo such a silly thing to make one
self uncomfortable in this sort of way."
"I am happier without them. Of
course, I might havo gone away with
out giving you warning," sho says,
turning her face up to his; "but I
knew you would lay no embargo on
my going; on the contrary," bitterly,
"I know you would rather rejoice at it."
"Shall I? Well, never mind that
now," says Harrington; "leave me out
IN A SECOND UK HAS TWINED HIS HAND IN MICItVYN'S COLI.AI!, AND BnOUGIIT
HIM ON HIS KNKKS IIHI'OHIC ':.V. .
of it altogether. 1 don't suppose I was
over really in it. Y'ou aro going to try
lifo anew with Mervvn. vou sav?"
"Yes." Her voice is so "low and
tired that either excitement or passion
would bo almost impossible' to it.
Hut-"
' Thero must bo no hindrances," in
terrupts sho doggedly; "my mind is
qultomadoup. If you detain mo now,
it shall bo to-morrow. And if not then,
somo other time."
1 You quite mistako me," says Har
rington calmly. " I seek to placo no
hlndranco in your way. Why should
I ? A prisoner would bo to mo a most
embarrassing possession. Oo where
you will, T shall not seek to detain you.
Indeed, I must thank your for you be
havior on this occasion; you havo
spared tho idlo conjecturing and angry
searching that usually accompany this
sort of thing. It is really tho most
comfortably arranged affair of the kind
that I havo ever known. Well; and
when are you going?"
As soon as possible," sho says, puz
zled by his careless treatment of what
sho regards as a tragedy. Is her ven
geance, then, to bo incomplete?
"It is a serious stop. I should tako
timo to consider it if I wero you," says
Harrington thoughtfully. "To chango
from ono ovil to another can hardly
bo termed wise."
"It cannot at all ovents bo a chango
for tho worse," sho says bitterly. "To
him at least I am something; to you,
nothing."
"Aro you so suro of that?"
"Iiavo you over spoken even ono
word of lovo to mo? Do you treat mo
as ho does?"
I daro say not; but tho reason for
my stupidity is obvious: I novor loved
I never thought of love in connec
tion with any ono but you. Ho. I un-
orstand, lias had considorablo experi-
once."
"It is your part to malign him," sho
says, with cold dial lin,
"Thero you mistake me again. I
owo both him and you a debt of grati
tude, but no grudge. Y'ou are doing
me a very good turn, which I acknowl
edge. Hy your goodness I shall be
enabled to obtain a divorce; and, as
the gods cannot always prove unkind,
I dare say some time or other in the
future I shall induco somo heart to
love mc."
Sho makes no answer to this. Some
thing in her face a vague restlessness
and her determination not to sit
down, reduco speculation to certainty
witli him in a few minute3.
Y'ou are going to meet him again
now?" he says, witli calm question.
"Yes," defiantly.
"It would be ncces3ary, of course, to
mako arrangements. You have not
told me, I think, when vou intend
going?"
"To-night, if possible. There is an
up-train at midnight."
As she says this, still with a touch of
defiance about her, a sigh escapes her.
It does not escape him.
"Hut consider the cold. Why not
wait until tho morning, and go up to
town comfortably? Take your own
ponies to the station, and your lug
gage, and that. To be without ones
luggage means misery. I would avoid
tho orthodox secrecy, if I were you,
and tho usual conventionalities. An
affair of this kind must necessarily bo
vulgar; but, by stripping it of its worn
out trappings, I don't seo why you
could not mako something almost
attractive out of it."
"It is kind of you to interest your
self so much," she says sneeringly.
I have always folt an interest iu
you." Then suddenly, " You aro look
ing palo and tired. Think of the jour
ney that lies before you; and let mc
entreat you to tako at least a glass of
wine before you start."
"No, no!"
"Why not?" He pours out a glas?
as ho speaks, and brings it to her
" Thero is no reason why you should
refuse to tako a simple cordial from
tho hands of tho man you swore ' tc
lovo and honor;' wo will say nothing
of tho " obey.' a3 it would havo been
my pleasure to turn tho tables, and
obey your slightest whim, had things
been different. Y'ou are going to be
tray mo to-night; but at least let us
part friends."
Thero is a cynical smile on his lips:
but, her head being bent, she is ignor
ant of it.
"Whero do you meet him?" ho asks
presently.
"At tho smaller gate, at tho end of
tho garden."
"Ho has a conveyance for you?"
" Ho has a carriage."
" If ho is there now you should not
delay him. Hemember what a severe
night It Is. New Year's-eve, by the
bye. Well, I hope your next year,"
with a courteous glance, " will bo hap
pier than your last"
"Y'ou aro very kind," she ijays.
"And now, good-bye."
"Not yet. Not here. Let mo ac
company you as far as tho garden
gate."
" You ,'"
"Yes. Why not? I am ono of tho
advanced school of thought; ono of
those liberal beings who look with
I leniency upon anything. Why should
i any humau thing bo unhappy, if it can
accomplish an escape from its misery?
It is misery to you to bo with mo or
without Mervyn I roally don't know
I which. Y'ou cry to yourself, 0, that
I I had wings Ilka a dove, for then would
I flee away and be at rc.t:' Nature
not having endowed you with these
useful appendages, you wisely make
another way for yourself to escape."
"Why should I tako you out at thlj
hour?"
"For no reason, excopt that I want
to go. Y'ou see," pointing to the dog
whip be3lde him, " I was really going
out, whether or no, to tho kennels.
Let mo see you to your destination
first."
"There is really no necessity," sho
says, drawing back.
"Perhaps not. Hut I have a fancy
to see the last of you. What! will you
refuse this small request of mine, when
probably we shall never meet again?
Como, let mc take you to Mervyn.
When with him I shall understand you
are in safe keeping." Again the
3hadow of a smile, replete with sar
castic bitterness, crones lib face.
CHAPTHU IV.
"ThcrcM neither hoiifsty, m.mliooil, nor
Ooo.l f -Ho.vship hi tlic '."
The snow lias ceased to fall, and a
dull moon shines sullenly from between
two clouds. It gives sufiicient light,
however, to let Mervyn, at the wicket
gate, see that two Ilgure3 aro approach
ing him instead of one. lie starts in
voluntarily, and makes a movement
as if to go.
" Y'ou needn't run away," says Har
rington, the grave ghost of a humorous
expression lighting his eyes.
Thus openly addressed, Mervyn pcr
forco comes to a standstill, though
tho desire for (light is undeniably
written upon his brow.
Florence, glancing nervously from
one man to tlio other, tell3 herself at
this moment there is a mental beauty
that far outdoes the merely physical
"I know all about it," says tho ugly
man impertu'rbably. "Mrs. Harring
ton, having found life with mo insup
portable, is desirous of trying it with
you. I think myself sho shows bad
taste; but that is so natural a conceit
that I dare say you will excuse it. She
tells me you intend to travel. Continu
ous ciiange is alwaxs to ue desired on
such occasions; but I hope you will bo
able to make her happy. She is ex
travagant in some ways. 1 like an
extravagant woman myself," says Uar
rington pleasantly. "Hut it doesn'
suit all purses."
" I don't understand you," says Mer
vyn, with a miserable attempt at
haughtiness.
"Then I must try to mako my mean
ing clearer. Look here," says Harring
ton, changing his tone suddenly, and
turning sharply upon tho other, "lot us
drop hints and come to business. Y'ou
are in debt, as I know; you aro on the
point of absolute ruin as I swtnert. In
six months you will not havo enougl
money to keep yourself going, to say
notlung oi anouier. i give you a
chance of beginning a new life else
where. If you will
alone to-morrow I w
leave this place
1 give you 5033.'
The crisp, clear
silence follows it,
voice ceases, and
Mrs,
Harrington
throwing back her hood from her face,
stares with passionate impatience at
tlio man in whose love she had believed
a minute ago. Will ho uerer speak
Is thero to be a hesitation, a choice, be
tween her and a paltry sum of money
" If I thought," he stammers at last
lamely, " that it would bo for her hap
piness to leave her in peace,! "
"If you aro about to make any allu
sion to Mrs. Harrington, I must beg you
to leave it unsaid," interrupts Airs,
Harrington's husband unpleasantly
"Como to the point. Y'ou will take
the money, and bo gone ?"
There is another silence, even more
distressing than tho last. Florence,
immovable as a statue, stands erect;
Harrington is beating his foot angrily
on tho ground. As for Mervyn; ho is
ruined thero wa3 no exaggeration in
that suspicion and tho money is
temptation, and
" Considering all I am giving up
he begins, too confused, perhaps, to
comprehend the enormity of his words
"There, don't be a greater black
guard than is strictly necessary,' says
t.eorgo Harrington, cutting him short
with a frown. " Y'ou accent mv terms ?
I hat is well. To-morrow morning you
shall havo my cheque, and now you
shall have this!"
In a second ho has twined his hand
in Mcrvyn's cellar, and brought him on
his knees before him. Halsing tlio dog
whip, ho brings it down with uncontrol
lable fury upon his shoulders again and
again, until tho miserable craven cries
aloud for mercy, grovelling at tho very
feet of tho woman to whom ho had been
half a horo at least, an hour ngo.
AVith a final cut, Harrington flings him
far from him, and, taking Florence's
hand with impulsivo haste, hurries her
toward tho house until they are out of
sight and hearing of tho frightened
wretch they have left behind.
Then, tho fierce fit of passion and re-
vengo over, Harrington stops and
breathes heavily. Tho livid pallor de
parts from his lips, tho baleful llro from
his eyes; ho even smiles.
Florence, terrified, breiks into bitter
weeping.
"Come homo, yon little silly fool,"
says ugly Harrington, not altogether
unkindly; and then he actually laughs
aloud, as ho may who wins. Hut pres
ently, seeing how she sobs and trembles,
ho goes nearer to her, and Anally places
his arm round hor.
Hut sho shrinks from him.
I wonder yon cuu bnr to touch me."
sho says, ahlvejlng. 44 1 suppo after
thh. n ' i'1 H "i father.'
Yu.u o.ol jh.uj 13 ivi. yo.ir ii.i
b ind," siy? (-ir;n U.uv. i ,,-u i,"if yo i
v. i'l or.ly tru t hi n."
"O (!Oi-,'e, tli.it wor 1 tmi' nnbes
mo quite! How ca i yn tr it )nsf"
"1 would trust yr.i with my lifo
nay. with f.ir more, my ho.iur this very
moment," says H irrin;t 3 i simply, "ic
spite of all that has co'ne and gone. A
woman who foun.l a ditliculty in run
ning away from her husband, without
first apprising him of her intention,
can't havo much tho matter with her.
Let us forget to-night. It is known
but to that cur and you and me; and
he, I fancy, will bo slow to speak of it"
"Hut you will think of it."
"Not I; or even if I do, it will be only
to laud myself afresh for my clevei
treatment of a grievous evil. I un
masked a villain jiut at the right mo
ment, and before tlio necessary wit!ie33."
"If you had treated me differently
just at first had shown me that you
loved me"
"Nay, then I should have been a
clumsy fool, and havo lo3t my game.
Now I breathe the air of heaven with
renewed lungs, and hope again there is
still a chance to win your love."
" ' Hope, that somo fool has called
the anchor of the soul,' " murmurs she,
copying the tone and words he had used
on the evening of their marriage to a
nicety. He smiles, and sho smiles too,
because youth is warm within her, and
it is so hard to be always sighing. Still,
the smile is followed by a sigh.
Hut the ice being slightly broken, hi
bends down to her, and kisses hc
warmly.
"That is the first real kiss I have ever
dared to give you," ho says, his plain
faco lighting up until it is nearly hand
some. "Now I begin to woo you in
earnest. And thero is ono thing, sweet
heart: let no sense of mistaken grati
tude, of revulsion of feeling, induct
you to fancy you lovo me until you
really do. Let mo bo your suitor foi
the present."
She makes him no answer to this.
They have regained the house now)
entering the hall, a glow of warmtb
smites on their hands and faces.
"At least tell me," ho say3, looking
into her nervous eyes, " that you find
it plcasanter returning to a warm fir
than to be hurrying, on such a night as
this, through sleet and snow."
She shudders.
" What have you not saved me from!"
she says. She half puts out her hand,
as though to touch him, and then tim
idly draws it back again.
" Now, I will have none of that," he
says, in his masterful but tender fash
ion, taking her hand and laying it upon
his heart.
" There is one thing," she says, with
downcast lids. "Since our marriage,
though T have not kissed you, I have al
least kissed no one else." She blushes
excessively as she says this, but she
lifts her head and looks him very
fairly in the eyes. Ho draws his breath
quickly.
"I thank you for that," he says; and
then moro lightly, " after all, I bclievi
your liking for him was moro fancy
than anything else."
"And obstinacy," confesses she, In
a low, sweet tone. " My father was so
averse to him; and besides, he used to
say sweet words to mo when all the
world seemed unkind."
"And when J", who should havo pro
tected you, was silent and reserved.
The blame must rest with me, for I was
the better man of the two," says Har
rington boldly, " and should havo found
victory easy. After all," quaintly,
"thero aro other things as worthy of
commendation as a (Irecian nose."
'Ah! what is that?" exclaims she,
starting violently. Even as sho sneaks
the sound of tho calm, sweet, solemn
bells ringing in tho New Year is borne
to them upon tho wing3 of the rushing
wind
" It is another year begun," says Har
rington gravely. "Let us pray that in
it may bo found happiness for us!"
THE KND.
Canada Bill's Funeral.
Canada Hill was tho greatest nionto
man and eross-roader that wo ever had
in this country. Ilo died at Scranton,
a., and 1 remember Ids funeral very
woll. Wo went out to tho graveyard
witli tho body, and just as tho cortin
was being lowered into tho grave ono
of the party broko uiit: "I'll bet a
hundred to fifty lie's not in tho box!"
and thero wasn't a man to tako it.
For," said another, "I've known him
to got out of as tijrht
plact-o as that"
Udl was known from
nno end of tho
country to tlio othor.
It was a story
generally circulated
just before his
icath that ho had offered a railroad
corporation $2r,000 a year for tho priv-
logo of playing nionto and doing "con."
work generally, and guaranteeing to
lacklo no passengers but ministers.
From an Interview witli a Confidence
Man.
It Might Have Bean.
A fair and buxom widow who had
buried three husbands recently went
with a gontloman, who in his younger
years had paid her markod attention,
to inspect tho gravos of hur dear de
parted. After contemplating thorn in
mournful silenco sho murmured to hor
companion: "Ah, James, you mignt
avo been in that row now if yon had
nly had a little moro courage!
St. Albans Messenger.
tt