TK* Daily ^©portar. •Stiall you be tong alter us?" asked Zillah, who, as I said, was my chamber companion. I». C. IRELAND A (’O. fl'BI.ISHKR». ."Áii hour or two,” I replied, turning away. McMinnville, Or. - - Fob. 12, 1887 I went and sat uluue in the little par lor, trying to collect my thoughts. To any governess the discovery of a clan destine and unw orthy love-affair among her pupils would be most painful, but mv discoveries were all horror together. The more I thought it over, the more my agonized pity for Zillah overcame my grief for lierdec«i|fulness. Love is AN OLD GOVERNESS’S TALE— always so weak, and girlish love al fif teen such a fascinating dream. What FOUNDED ON FACT. ever I thought of the lieutenant, he was very attractive to most people. He was, besides, the first young man Zillah had ever made acquaintance with, and the first human living except myself who BY MIS-> MUI.OCK. had treated her with kindness. But But in tills case, at one glance, even what opportunities could they have had if I had not caught the silly phrase, to become lover»? 1 recollected Zillah's “Mv anirel!”—the same J .heard in the wanderings, evening after evening, in woon ian, mat wooaii-0»! ur any one toe ^rounds of the deserted estate. She would have detected the truth. It came must have met mm there. Poor girl! upon me like a thunderbolt; but know I could well imagine what it must lie to ing Zillah’s disposition, I had just wit be wooed under the glamour of summer enough to glide back unseen, and re-en twilight and beautiful solitude. No ter, talking loudly at the door. Upon wonder Zillah's heart was stolen away! which I found the lieutenant tapping —Thinking of this now , 1 feel 1 am his boots carelessly, and Zillah shrink w rong in saying “heart” of what at best ing into a corner like a frightened hare. could have lietm mere "fancy." Wom He went off very soon—he said, to an en’s natures are differ nt; but some engagement at Belfast, and we started women have been gravely, mournfully, for our ramble. I noticed that, Zillah fatally in earnest, even at sixteen. However, in earnest or not, she must walked along-aide of Caroline, as if she be snatched from this marriage at all could not approach or look at me. I know not whether I was most risks. There could be no doubt of that. shocked at my poor girl, or puzzled to But to whom should I apply for aid? think what possible attraction Chis Not to Mr. Le l’oer certainly. The young man could find in such a mere poor orphan seemed trembling between child—so plain and awkward-loooking the grasp of either villain, father and too. That he could he “in love” with son. Whatever must be dope for her het, eveil in the loWest sense of tha,t I must de rnyiielf of tpy own judg phrase, deemed'all but an impossibility,' ment,”* áííd on niy own responsibility. It was a very hard strait forme. In and if not in love, what possible pur pose could he have in wooing or Want ‘my necessity I instinctively turned to ing to marry her?—for L was simple my best friend in the world, aud—as I enough to suppose that all wooing must suddenly remembered -Zillah's too, 1 determined.U» write and explain all to necessarily be in earnest. Half-bewildered with conjectures, Mr. Sutherland. How well 1 remember that hour! The fears and doubts as to what course I must pursue, did 1 walk on beside Ma little parlor quite still and quiet, except tilda, who, haying quarreled with, her for,the ¡¿lint sound of the'wavers rolling si st ex. kept elo.se to me. She wentdmtr in; foi it was rather a mild night, and tering on about some misdoings or Car our siflall one-storied cottage stood by oline. At last my attention was caught itself in a solitary part of the beach. How vyell I remember myself! sitting by hearing Zillah's name. “I Wotrr bear it always,*’ said the withpttS pen in my bund, uncertain angry child; “I’ll only bear it till Zillah how to begin; for rfeltiawkward, nev ’.gr yayipg written.>to hiái sino». I was a comes of age.", “Bear what?” “Why, that Carry should always have : At first bxlipbst forgot what I had to two new frocks to my ofkp. It’» a write, aboilt. While musing. I was eturÚed by a noise like tb«r opening of shame!" “But what has that to say to Zillah’s a window. Now, aa I explained, our hoUsefWas all onto fiat, and we could coming of age?" “Don’t you know. Miss Pryor?—oh, easily step from any window to the of course you don’t, for Carry wouldn’t beach. In considerable alarm I hurried let me tell* yoti; but I will!” she added into Zillah's room. There, by the dim night-light, I saw her bed was emptv. maliciously, 1 hardly knew whether I was right or Sl^e liad apparently dressed herself fi r wrong in not stopping the girl’s tongue, I saw none other clothes—and crept out but I could not do it. the window. Terrified inexpressibly, “Do you know.” she added in, a sly, at I was about to follow’ her, when I saw whisper, “Carry says we shall all lie the flutter of a ^liawl outside, an^ heard very rich when Zillah comes of age. Pa ' her voice speaking, and ma kept ft very secret; but Carry | “No, cousqi—no,dear,cousin! Don't found it out, and told it to brother Au ask trié. I can’t go away with you to gustus and to me." night. It would be very wrong when “Told wliat?” said I. forgetful that I Misa Pryor knows nothing about it, If was prying’into a family secret, and she bail found us out or threatened, and stung into curiosity by the mention pf I we were obliged to run away----- ” (Ini- Augustus. j mediately I saw that, with a girl of Zil- “That Z|l!ah will then be very rich, lab's fierce obstinacy, discovarv would as her father left her all he had; and I m * most dangerous. 1 put out the light uncle Henry was a great nabob, because I and kept quite still). he married an Indian princess and got “I can’t, indeed I can’t«” pursued Zil all her money. Now. von see," she con lah’s voice, in answer to some urging tinued with a cunning smile, shocking which was inaudible; adding, with a on that young face, “we must be verv childish laugh,“You know Cousin Au civil to Zillah, and of course sue wifi gustus, it would never do for me to go give us all her money. Eh, you under mid be married in a cotton dressing- stand?’’ gown; and Miss I’ryor keeps all my best I stood aghast. In a moment all > Clothes. Dear Miss Pryor! I would came clear upon me: the secret of Mr. miii’Ii rather have told her, only you say suinerianu s giiaiTnanslifp—of his tetter i she would be so much the niore sur to me intercepted—of the money lately prised and pleased when I came back sent—of Mr. Le Poer’s anxiety concern i married. And you an? quite sureth.it ing his niece’s life, and his desire to ¡ she shall always live with us, and never keep her hidden from the world, lest I return to Yorkshire again?” she might come to a knowledge of her Her w ords, so childish, so unconscious position. The whole wa - a tissue of I of the wrong she was doing, perfectly crimes. And, deepest crime of all! I startled me. All my romantic notions now guessed why Lieutenant Augustus i of girlish passion following its own wild wished, unknown to his father, to en will were put to flight. Here was a trap her still childish affections, m;irry mere child led away by the dazzle of a her, and secure al! to himself. new toy to the brink of a precipice, I never knew much of the world and j She evidently knew no more of love and its wickedness; 1 believed all men were marriage than a baby! like my father or Mr. Sutherland. This I For a little time longer, the wicked discovery for the time quite dizzied my lover I cannot call him—suitor, urged faculties. I have not the slightest rec his suit, playing with her simplicity in ollection of anythin!' more that passed a manner that he must inwardly have on that sea-side w^lk.except that, com laughed at all the time. He lured her ing in at the door of the cottage. I to matrimony by puerile pet names, heard Zillah say in anxious tones, such as "My angel”—bv idle rhapsodies “What ails Miss Pryor. I wonder?” I and promises of fine Imuses and had wisdom enough to answer, “Noth i clothes. ing, my dears!” and sent them all to “I don’t mind these things at all,” bed ooiH poor ZillC.!?. inm>w»*i- THE HALF-CASTE. not go wun you. only yoiPsAy tliaCWhen I aiu married I shall have nothin# to do, and you will never scold me. and 1 shall have Miss Pryor always near me. Promise!” Here wm a pause, until the child’s simple voice was heard again: “I don’t like that, cousin. I won’t kiss you again. Miss Pryor once «aid we ought never to kiss anybody unless we love them very much.’-' “And don't you love me, my adorable creature?” “I—I'm not quite sure; sometimes I love you and sometimes not; but I sup pose I shall always w’hen we are mar ried.” “That blissful day must be very soon.” said the lieutenant; and I thought I heard him trying to suppress a yawn. “Ixjt us settle it at once, my dear, for it grows late. If you will not come to-niglit, let me have’ the happi ness. the entire felicity, of fetching you to-morrow.” "No, no,” Zillah answered; “Mias Pryor will want me to help her to pack. We leave this day week; let me stay till the night before, then come for me, and I'll have my liest frock on, and we can lie married in time to meet them all be fore the boat sails the next day.” In other circumstances I should have smiled at this child’s idea of marriage; but now the crisis was far too real and awful; and the more her ignorance lightened her own error, the more it in creased the crime of that bad man who was about to ruin her peace forever. A little he tried to reverse her plan and make the marriage earlier, but Zil lah was too steady. In the obstinacy of her character—in the little influence which, lover as he was, he seemed to have over her—I found her safeguard, past and present. It would just allow me to save her in the only way she could be saved. 1 listened till I heard her say good bye to her cousin, creep back into the dark room through the <q>en window, and fasten it securely as liefore. Then I stole away to the parlor, and support ed by the strong excitement of the mo ment, wrote my letter to Mr. Suther- .laiid. There would be in the six days just time for the arrival of an answer, or— himself. I left everything to him, merely.stating the facts, knowing he would do right. " At midnight I went to bed. Zillah was fast asleep. As I lay awake, hour after hour, I thanked Heaven that the pom* child, deluded as siie has been knew nothing of what love was in its reality. She was at least spared that sorrow. During all the week I contrived to keep Zillah as near me as was possible, consistent with the. necessity of not awaking her suspicions. This was the more practicume, as sne see>iied to cling to me with an unwonted and even painful tenderness. The other girls fTumbled sadly at our departure; but uckily all had been definitely ar ranged by their father, who had even, strange to »ay, given me money for the journey. He had likewise gracefully apologized for being obliged to let us women-kind travel alone, as he had himself some business engagements, while his son had lately rejoined his regiment. I really think* the deceiving and deceived father fully credited the latter fact. Certainly they were a worthy pair! I made all my plans secure, and screwed up my eourage as well as I could; but I own on the evening previ ous to our journey—the evening which, from several attesting proofs, I knew was still fixed for the elopement—I be gan to feel a good deal alarmed. Of Mr. Sutherland there waH no tidings. At twilight I saw plainly that the sole hope must lie in my own presence of mind, niy influence over Ziliah, and my ap|>eal to her sense of honor and affec tion. I sent the children early to bed, iving I had letters to write, and pre pared myself for whatever was to hap pen. Now many may think me foolish, and at times I thought myself so like- w ise, for not going to Zillah and telling h ?r ull I had discovered; but I knew her chai icier better than that. The dea of b ing betrayed, waylaid, con trolled, would drive her fierce Eastern t ature into th«» very eommission of the madness she conti in plat d. tn every thing I must trust to the impulse of the moment and to the n suit of her aud- dt niy discovering her own position and the villainous plans laid against her. Never in my life do I remember a more anxi( us hour than that 1 spent sitting in tne dark by the parlor win dow; whence, myself unseen, I could see all that passed without the house: for It was a lovelv night, the moon hitrh ud over the Lough, and making visible the Antrim mils. 1 think ib all momenta of great peril one growaquiet: so did I. At eleven there was a sound of wheels on the beach, and the shadow of a man passed the window. 1 looked out. It was the most iinromantic and common place elopement with an heiress; he was merely going to take her uway on an outside car. There was no one with him but the carman, who was left whistling contentedly on the shore. The moment had come; with the en ergy of desperation, I put off the shawl in which 1 had wrapped myself iu case 1 had to follow the child, for follow-' her I had determined to do. were It necessary. Quietly, and with as ordi nary a manner as I oould assume, I walked into Zillah’s room. She was just stepping from the win dow on to the beach. She hail on her best frock and shawl, poor Innocenti w ith her favorite white bonnet, that t Iuid lately trimmed for her, carefully tied up in a kerchief. I touched her shoulder. “Zillah, w here are you going?” She started and screamed. “Tell me; I must know!" I repealed, holding her fast by the arm. while Au gustus rather roughly pulled her by the other. “Cousin, you hurt met” she cried, and instinctively drew back- Then,for the first time the lieutenant saw me. I have often noticed that cunning and deceitful people—small villains, not great ones—are always cowards. Mr. Augustus drew buck as if he find bean shot. I took no notice of him, but stdl avnealed to Zillub. To be Continued. Advertisments, etc., intended for publication in The Weekly Reporter must be handed in Tuesday morning. We.cannot in future deviate from thia rule. FIREMAN'S FAIR Garrison Opera House, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday, February 22d, 23d and 24th, 1887. LIST OF PRIZES. There will be prizes given on the following named exhibits: 1st and 2d prize for best and 2d best ex hibit of Kensington painting. 1st and 2d prize, for beet and 2d best ex hibit of Kensington embroidery. 1 st and 2d prize, for best mid 2d best ex hibit of outline work by a child under 14 years of age. 1st and 2d best, for best and 2d best ex hibit of work of any kind by a boy under 14 years of nge. let Rnd 2d prize, for best and 2d best ex hibit of crayon work. There will also be h prize given for the heaviest, lightest and prettiest baby under 1 year of sge. Following fan list of prize« offered: Forth» prettiest baby, gold necklace; lightest and heaviest baby under one year of age, each a ' gold ring; outline work by a child under fourteen years, first prize, ear rings, second prize, si rap book; Kensington embroidery, first priz< napkin ring, second prize, box | writing pn|M»r; kensington painting, first prize, manicure set, second prize, bracket: ora von work, first prize, paper holder, second prize, pitcher; boy’s work, first prize, paper holder, second prize, inkstand. Parade of Firemen Tuesday af ternoon. Doorn will be open at 7 o’clock, p. in. dally, «luring tlie Fair. —All are invited to Attend— Admission 25 Cents. By Order of C ommitter .