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Maps, plates, charts, etc, may be filmed at different reduction ratios. Those too large to be entirely included in one exposure are filmed beginning in the upper left hand corner, left to right and top to bottom, as many frames as required. The following diagrams illustrate the method: Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent §tre filmds d des taux de reduction diff6rent&. Lorsque le document est trop grand pour dtre reproduit en un seul clich6, il est film6 d partir de Tangle sup6rieur gauche, de gauche d droite, et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre d'images ndcessaire. Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la m6thode. 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 c^^ r / GRIM TRUTH. A Short Story, By alexia AGNES VIAL. PRINTED BY JOHN LOVELL & SON, 23 AND 25 St. Nicholas Street. ...■s --?r.*r,ss- z =.;rr:r - •^ ^LEXTA Agnes awa. DEDICATED By Permission TC The Right Reverend JAMES WILLIAM WILLIAMS, D.D., Bishop of Quebec. "T %e tl A : vis: ern she are brc vei an; fev dii an so; pr bt til fe sli GRIM TRUTH. By Ai^exia Agnes Viai,. CHAPTER I. me th T never felt myself. ...so thirsty for improvement as to desire that all my acquaintances should give their candid opinion of me." i — George Eliot. vA FEW years ago, a country town — Kdgevale, we will call it — was visited by a strange and alarming epidemic. Edgevale is in the West- ern Hemisphere, but I do not mention latitude and longitude, lest I should wound the sensibilities of some of my fellow-creatures, for there are not many people who lived through that terrible time that could be brought to acknowledge the fact, unless they happened to be among the ^very few who escaped the disease. Although it only lasted one short week, and did not prove fatal 'any of its victims, leaving them in perfect bodily health, still, with very few exceptions, the sufferers all left their old home and scattered in different directions, as far from their former friends, acquaintances and even relations, as they could possibly get. I have little doubt that some may have emigrated as far as the North Pole, and others might probably be found domesticated among the savages of Central Africa ; but in case there are some of them living within reach of civilization, I think it better to write cautiously, for I cannot bear to hurt people's feelings. I know that if I had gone through the same affliction, I should never have been able to hold, up my head again. GRIM TRUTH. I Of course, the vacant places caused by the exodus were soon filled by other people, and there are a few of the former inhabitants left to tell the tale, and it is from them that I have gathered the facts I am about to record, — a few of the facts, I should have said, as it would be impossible to mention all the particulars I heard, so I will just make use of those cases which appeared to me most interesting". After my arrival in Edgevale — I was travelling for my health — on hearing of the scourge which had beeii sent upon the place, I consulted the old doctor there, who had passed through the ordeal unscathed, as to the possibility of a recurrence of ' he malady ; but he honestly confessed himself to have been completely baffled by it, and refused to give an opinion, saying it was beyond the reach of his profession. I naturally felt ner\'ous, for, besides being in weak health and therefore susceptible to anything contagious, I was boarding in a house which had been occupied by some of the 'CVorst cases — people who had since emigrated, it was thought, to the South Sea Islands. I had hoped to find out from the doctor if the disease were really infectious, but he gruffly told me he knew absolutely nothing about it, had never seen anything like it before or since, and very seldom came across even symptoms suggestive of the complaint, except in children under nine years of age. He concluded with exclaiming, ' * More's the pity ! " So I supposed at the time that he would like to have an opportunity of studying the trouble for the benefit of his profession. '* It's a metaphysician, not a mere physician, you should consult, young man," he said jocularly, as I was taking my leave, " if you can find one." I did not stay very long in the place after my interview with the doctor, as I felt, in case anything happened, I should prefer to be near a medical man who would be more reasoning, but I remained long enough to make a few interesting acquaintances, and learn the facts which, as I said before, I am about to record. t Isoon filled "ts left to Ifacts I am it would [just niakt ealth— on consulted unscathed, - honestly refused to ession. J therefore ise which had since hoped to IS, but he ever seen ross even ider nine Pposed at ying the consult, you can : GRIM TRUTH. 7 A few days before the epidemic declared itself, Edgevale had been shaken by earthquakes, and there had been some very severe thunder and lightning storms which had done considerable damage. It remains an open question whether these calamities had anything to do with the other visitation, but in some minds they are supposed to be the origin of it. Of course, people will be superstitious. It seems, one bright morning during the hot season, the inhabitants of Edgevale awoke to find that they had lost control over their powers of speech. Now, I do not mean that they could not speak distinctly, but that they did not say the words they wanted. Not in the way some people are affected in paralysis by usine senseless words while their ideas are clear, but by being compelled to say what they really thought and felt instead of the thiags they would like to say. In short, they were stricken with Truth. They were obliged to be uncompromisingly and absolutely sincere for one long week ! (A little while ago I called the week short, but then I was not speaking from the sufferers' point of view.) Now, consider what that means ! Just imagine how the best ^f us would feel if we heard our tongues telling out our inmost thoughts -in direct opposition to an order from the brain ! ^ Poor Edgevaleites ! What must their sufferings have been ! What wonder was it that, after they had undergone such sufferings, they fled away as far from their old haunts and old neighbors as possible ! And the worst of it is the world is so small now, that it is difficult to find a place where a person will not meet somebody who knows somebody else who knows all about him. i^ith the be near ed long le facts 8 GRIM TRUTH. \\ CHAPTER II. " He is a strong man who can hold down his opinion." — Emhrson. It was Mrs. Johnson's cook who first discovered that "folks acted strange," when she went to take the milk from the milkman. She was "put out" that morning, for Mrs. Johnson was to have a large garden party in the afternoon, and she had been cooking the day before more than she thought her contract compelled her to do. " How much water did you put in this morning, Jerry?" she asked, and was surprised when he : eplied : — ** About half and half, ma'am." She thought he was laughing it oif, but the distressed look on his face surprised her, and she wondered why he hurried away so fast instead of staying to have a chat. A short time after a stout tram^^ came along limping with a bound up foot, and asked for some breakfast. Jane was a liberal woman and kind-hearted, so .she began to cut some of her mistress' bread and butter and cold ham and pour out some coffee ; but, being a little put out, as I said before, she gave the man his breakfast and a piece of her mind at the same time. " Now, why in the world don't a great big large man like you work for a livin' instead o' beggin* this way ? " " I don't like work. That's why," was the answer. Jane glanced at the man, and thought the poor fellow must be ill, he looked so queer. " What's the matter with your foot ? " she asked in gentler tone. " Nothin'," the man gasped, but he looked worse than before. " He's off his head with the pain, poor thing," said the impulsive Jane to herself. GRIM TRUTH. -Emerson. folks acted [man. She 'ave a large L' day before ry ? " she ook on his ^ay so fast th a bound voman and and butter It out, as I ler mind at you work ust be ill, ler tone. )re. mpulsive " r,et me do it up for you more comfortable like. You wouldn't be l^ndaging your foot for nothing, I'm sure ; " and she came nearer. " Oh ! yes, I would. It pays better." He put his foot up and sat on it, while he devoured his breakfast with an expreSvSion in his eyes, such is one may see in those of a hungry dog who is gnawing a bone he is Afraid of losing. ' ' lyook here, my man, you may take yourself off. What do you mean T)y asking me for breakfast when you are well and strong enough to earn your own livin' ? " "I told you I didn't like work." Then a crafty gleam came into the man's eyes. " Hes the pleeceman ben here lately hevin' tea?" he asked. Poor Jane ! She wanted to deny it, but instead of that she heard her own voice saying : — " Yes, he was here last night." She had to go into the dining room after that to lay the table for breakfast, so the tramp made a comfortable meal at his leisure, and pocketed a few silver spoons, as his unwilling honesty of speech did not extend to his deeds ; after which he left the house and the neigh- borhood, and was never seen again. Jane said as little as possible all day, but she did 1: . work so well that her mistress had very little occasion to speak to her, Mrs. Johnson attributed her silence to suUenness, but was quite willing to overlook that as long as she did her work well. " Oh ! if she will only not give warning till after I've recovered from the tennis party, it will be all right," said the poor lady to her hus- band. Kntertaining a large number of one's mere acquaintances is a task which has made even phlegmatic people ' ' hot all over ' ' in the depth of winter ; but imagine the feelings of an emotional lady, who had issued one hundred and fifty invitations, nearly all to comparative strangers, «a^ 20 GRIM TRUTH. V \ 1:1! when the thermometer registered 90 '^ in the shade, and her servants showed a rebellious spirit ! The Johnsons were new-comers in the place, and this was their first piece of hospitality on a large scale since their arrival, in return for a whole winter of invitations. They were a sociable couple who like to have their intimate friends drop in without ceremony, and hardly ever sat down to a ietc-d-tetc dinner, and the favoured few who frequented their house did not expect to be entertained ; so it was not surprising that Mrs. Johnson felt that she must be on her good behaviour, and dreaded the arrival of her own guests on this gieat occasion. It was particularly unfortunate that the epidemic should have broken out just the day of her party. If it had been a day sooner the hostess would have been spared even the attempt to entertain, for her guests would have been too shy to appear in society had they known what was wrong with them. She first noticed something strange when Miss Watkins, the heiress, whD was sitting on the verandah a few feet from her, burst into tears while talking to a young bai'.k clerk to whom she was engaged. Only a few guests had arrived, and there seemed to be some difficulty among the tennis players, and no one would begin to play. To avoid no- ticing a lover's quarrel, Mrs. Johnson left the verandah and joined the little group at the tennis court. " I suppose you are all afraid of sunstroke this hot day," she said, instead of the little bit of pleasantry she had prepared, and she noticed that they all looked excited, while some of the girls had tears in their eyes. There was a silence of some moments, broken at last by a warm- looking stout gentleman in a soiled tennis suit, v/hose eye she caught. " You may well say so," puffed he ; " and besides that, these girls here have had the impertinence to tell me that I can't play at all. The fact is, they like the young men better, and so I told them, and they had to acknowledge it, too." it % '•tj:r- servants [their first urn fcr a lo like to ardly ever •equented surprising iour, and . It was n out just ess would sts would I'as wrong le heiress, into tears id. Only ty among iv^oid no- id joined she said, e noticed s in their a warm- : caught, lese girls 11. The ind they GRIM TRUTH. XI Well, I am not surprised atthat," said Mrs. Johnson with enga- giBg simplicity, while her indignant guest gazed at her speechless with astonishment. ' ' Perhaps it would be better to wait till it is a little cooler for a game. It is quite pleasant on the verandah. Come, Mr. Temple," to the stout gentleman, "and rest a little before exerting yourself. At your age, a man should be very careful. ' ' Roused at finding himself addressed, the poor man, whose looks Suggested an attack of apoplexy, turned on his heel with a snort, and walked away to a summer house, where an elderly young lady was sitting alone. Mrs. Johnson then turned to a handsome young fellow in flannels, who was looking very uncomfortable. " You must get these young ladies some ice cream, Mr. Jenkins," she said to him ; but as there was no response, she turned to the excited girls and said, much against her will : — ' ' You all look as if you had been quarrelling. What is the mattf ^" " He said playing tennis with ladies was awfully stupid, unless they #ere uncommonly good players or particularly nice girls," answered the prettiest of the group, glancing at the uncomfortable young man. That poor unfortunate, who would have been grateful to the earth if it bad swallowed him, bowed without his accustomed grace to his hostess, as she turned to him with a look . of distress, and then to the aggrieved girls, and walked ofi the grounds and out at the gate, with- out a word. New arrivals claimed Mrs. Johnson's attention just then, and came in such numbers that there was not much opportunity for conversation ; but she could not help noticing that some of the first arrivals were going away without bidding her good-bye. Some of the more cour- ageous ones, however, ventured to take leave of her, among them an overdressed lady and her two daughters. U 'HI I H m r liil It i ■ 12 GRIM TRUTH. (( It You are hurrying away very soon, ' ' said the hostess. " I am afraid , you have not enjoyed yourself." ^Dear "No, not at all," said the over-dressed lady, who was nervously .derst skaking hands with Mrs. Johnson at the time. \ That little ceremony came to a very abrupt end, and the two ladies tifeat stared at each other for a moment, while one of the daughters ex- claimed : ** I told you how it would be, Ma." f ' ' I am sorry you have been disappointed, ' ' came with an effort at last fron* Mrs. Johnson. j ** Disappointed ! — I never expected to enjoy myself," returned the other, growing a deeper red than before. ' ' Then why did you come ? " ** Because I thought it would be advantageous for the girls to be seen at your house." This was complimentary^ in a way, and Mrs. Johnson knew that it was sincere ; but it caused her a pang too, for she felt sure that experi- ence would teach th.ie ambitious people that there was very little advantage to be derived from her entertainments. j| She gave her hand to the daughters in turn, mustering a smile as she said kindly : — | ** Well, I hope next time you come you will have more amusement, I think gentlemen are always lazy in hot weather." | "Nothing in the world would induce us to come again," said the elder girl, while the 3^ounger one exclaimed : — ! * ' Do tell us why you did it ! " \ "Did what, my dear?" " Invited us here to be treated this way." " I gave a party because I wanted to gain influence in society," faltered the hostess. ' ' If anything unpleasant has occurred, it is not my fault. I hoped that every one would have a happy afternoon, and I cannot understand why people behave so rudely." "'i GRIM TRUTH. 13 I am afraid nervously two ladies ighters ex- n effort at eturned the girls to be new that it |that experi- very little smile as she musement. , ' ' said the 1 society," d, it is not noon, and *' Come, Bessie, everybody is going," said the mother. " You'll only bear some more disagreeable things about ' upstarts ' if you stay. I un- derstand it all ; they just meant to snub us." " No, really — " began Mrs. Johnson ; but her husband came up at that moment and prevented any further conversation. "Kmily, Miss Wade is in hysterics down in the summer house," he said hurriedl}^, and she saw by his ruffled countenance that his after- noon's work had been as hard as hers. What has happened, Jack ? Perhaps Dr. Selwood had better see " Oh ! dear no ! He would do her more harm than good. She's had a row with old Temple. The old fool asked her her age, and she told him the Truth, now she thinks she's seriously ill, and wants a vehicle to take her home. ' ' ' ' Have you ordered one ? ' ' " Yes, I did so before I came for you." They were hunydng through the grounds as they spoke. Such pretty grounds they were, with gay flowers dotted, at intervals through them, and many bright rugs and painted chairs and seats for the accommoda- tion of the guests, besides the picturesque refreshment tents. But the distressed faces of the guests were sadly out of keeping with the festive scene, and Mrs. Johnson noticed that instead of cheerful conversation and laughter there was a sullen silence among some of them, while from Other groups she could hear the sound of angry voices. As she neared the summer house with her husband, they saw the rubicund Mr. Temple coming towards it toe from one of the tents, with a glass of ice cream in his hand. Mr. Johnson walked over to him quickly, while his better half joined Miss Wade. " Look here. Temple, you'd better keep out of the way till Miss Wade gets a carriage," he said. "You'll only excite her again. I'll give her the ice cream," and he held out his hand for it. i!l! H GRIM TRUTH. Mr. Temple drew back indignantly. "I'd like to know who has the best right to attend to the wishes that lady, sir, you or I ? " * ' I have, most certainly, since she is my guest, and you have alread been the means of giving her a fit, or something like it, by your stupid ity." In response, Mr. Temple glared at his companion, and started again towards the summer house. Mr. Johnson heard an excited female voice from that direction, and in his anxiety to prevent any further trouble, stepped in front of his gues: and tried again to take the ice cream. " I say now you mustn't be a fool. Temple," he said ; " give me that stuff and I'll give it to her." In avoiding his host's outstretched hand, Mr. Temple spilt some ot the ice cream on his tennis shoes, and his rage knew no bounds. ** Confound you for a meddlesome brute ! " he roared. "I'd kick you if — if — if — I wasn't afraid." P Mr. Johnson burst into a loud laugh as he looked down at the poor excited little man, whose face wore an expression akin to despair as lie said the last words. " Why in the world won't you let me take that ice cream to Miss Wade, like a sensible man ? I only wish to avoid any more rows. I don't " I " Rows, sir, rows i I would give you to understand that Miss Wade har^ promised to be my wife. ' ' Mr. Johnson was speechless for a few moments. " Upon my word that beats all I ever heard ! " he said when he had recovered himself. " Why didn't you tell me that before ? " and he stepped aside. ' ' But how is it you decided so hastily after asking her rude questions ? I wonder she had anything to say to you. ' ' ' ' You've no business to wonder at anything. Miss Wade is a woman 1 of sense, sir, and the most candid person I ever saw. Told me her age . (t ia Te tic y< to lo y GRIM TRUTH. 15 le wishes c lave alread ^our stupid [tarted agair ction, andir. ofhisguesi ^ive me that pilt some 0! unds. ['d kick you at the poor espair as he im to Miss )re rows. I Miss Wade hen he had ?" and he asking her s a woman le her age right out, and how many of your society women would do that ! — and she quite agrees with me that the girls of the present day are not suffi- diently retiring and are wanting in judgment." " Well, Temple, let me congratulate you. I think it's the best thing that could have happened. Much more sensible than hanging round pretty girls young enough to be your daughters. ' ' in spite of these kind words the happy man looked decidedly warlike Its he allowed his host to shake him by the hand. Meanwhile, Mrs. Johnson had gone to Miss Wade, whom she found ^Aushed, but comparatively calm, with a triumphant expression in her lye, which she (Mrs. Johnson) was at a loss to account for. " I'm so sorry, dear, that you've been so annoyed by that dreadful J^r. Temple. He has no more manners than a dancing bear. Your carriage will be here soon, so come with me to the house. ' ' Miss Wade drew herself up and looked dangerous as she answered : — "It is very painful to me to hear you speak in that way of Mr. Temple. Do please go away and don't let him find you here." " I can quite understand that you don't care to hear his name men- tioned. But surely, even he would not be so stupid as to tease you lagain. At any rate I'm not afraid of him, and I'll stay with you til you are ready to go. " Naturally this sympathy was not appreciated by its object, who, much to Mrs. Johnson's distress, broke into sobs and then gasped rather •loudly : — ' ' It was always this way ! Whenever anything like this happened to me, some woman was sure to spoil it all by her interference. ' ' "Spoil what? I thou^^ht you wo aid be glad to have me with you just now." " I am not at all glad. If he sees you here he won't like to come, and who knows but he may change his mind. ' ' " But do you wish Mr. Temple to come ? " ** Yes, he told me to wait till he fetched me some ice cream." ,^;.a* i6 GRIM TRUTH. \\ "Oh ! well, never mind. Even if he does forget, and it would be just like him to do so, Jack will get you anything you like." The sobs broke forth again, and Mrs. Johnson lost patience. •' To think of a woman of your age making such a fuss about a little ice cream ! ' ' " I don't care for the ice cream a bit. I " ' ' Well, what do you want ? What do you care for ? " " Mr. Temple," answered Miss Wade sullenly. " He said he would come back to me in a few minutes." *' Is it possible you wish him to come, after the way he behaved ? " " I think he behaved very nicely," returned the other, as she wiped her eyes, and arranged her collar. ' ' Then I must have been misinformed. Jack told me he had been rude. What did he say to you ? " " He asked me to marry him," answered the tormented lady, *' since you must know everything." *' I beg your pardon. Miss Wade, for my rudeness. Jack must have misunderstood. It is really refreshing to see some one happy this dread- ful weather," and she left the summer house and joined her husband who had just separated from Mr. Temple. ** Our assistance was not required, Jack," she said, as they walked back to the house, and then she heard Mr. Temple's side of the ques- tion, and the two laughed heartily for the first time that terrible after- noon. They returned to the house to find that all their guests had escaped except the old doctor, the one I consulted, who was standing on the steps with a puzzled smile on his face. Jane, from the seclusion of a refreshment tent, had heard and seen a great deal without interruption, for no one had required her services but Mr. Temple. " Lord have mercy on us ! " she cried, devoutly crossing herself, " they are all took the same way ! I won't give warning now, for the end of GRIM TRUTH, 17 would be I' ' Ice. lout a little he would ehaved ? " she wiped had been ited lady, must have this dread- er husband ey wajked f the ques- rible after- quests had :anding on md seen a T services self, "they the end of the world is not far off, that's certain sure ! — and all these elegant refreshments will be wasted ! ' * Mrs. Johnson's laugh became rather hysterical as she realized in a measure what had befallen her, and it was only the good doctor's firm handling and her husband's immediate decision to leave Edgevale at once which kept her up. •* I wonder why the Chesters did not come," she said, after she had rested a little and taken a biscuit and a glass of wine. * * Things would not have been so terrible, I am sure, if they had been here. Mrs. Chester is so amiable and her husband has so much tact — he always says the right thing. I hope he is not ill." Mr. Chester was the young rector of one of the largest churches in Edgevale. Dr. Selwood smiled. " I saw him this morning," he said, " and he Iqioked remarkably well. Perhaps he has lost his ,tact like the rest ol your friends and discovered his condition in time." " And then Dr. Jewell — he is such a ladies mm. He would have been invaluable." "I noticed that his rooms were to let as I came here ; but he was in the best of spirits last night at the club, and I know his practice is ■very large." "What has come over everybody, Dr. Selwood? Will it be like this wherever we go ? " The doctor put up his finger. "If you talk any more you will not be rested for your move." Xhen rising. ' ' I must be off now ; so good-bye, Mrs. Johnson, but you will see me in the morning. Keep as quiet as possible, you know ; don't tire yourself talking." Mr. Johnson accompanied his kind friend to the gate, where they saw Miss Wade and Mr. Temple getting into the conveyance which had n ordered for the use of the former alone. " There," said the doctor, when he had heard the story of the betro- B ^01^ I iS GRIM TRUTH. thai. " You see, some people are happier already for the new state ( things. I am sure that if real downright candour were the fashior society would be ever so much pleasanter, and of course nioi wholesome. There's too much humbug altogether." * ' Of course there is, but wait till the millennium before you do awa with it entirely. I have had enough candour this afternoon to last ii, a long time. I can't say I should like every Tom, Dick and Harry t tell me just what they think of me, or to show me too clearly what the are themselves. In this world perfect sincerity can only exist betwee: verj^ dear friends or very deadly enemies, and one person cannot have: very large circle of either, so a little humbug among one's acquaintance; is inevitable. We did without it this afternoon, and you can't call the result a success.'* * * Things haven't got into working order yet. Society is in a statt of transition. Wait till Truth is firmly established here, and Edgevak will be the happiest and most prosperous place on the face of tht globe!" If it does business with the rest of the world I am skeptical as to tlit prosperity. But I shall not be here to see, and I doubt if there will bt much society left to be purified. I, for my part, am not anxious to set any of my fellow-citizens again, except yourself, doctor, and I expec they will be as shy of me." ' ' You are a new comer, but I should think people who have take: root here would hardly leave their homes because they are obliged tf speak the Truth ! " *' Well, you must write and tell me how Edgevale prospers. I wil. give you our new address before we go away." The issu< adv( rour repc He plea acc( rep( Joh hee I enc an} Tvei pre the the tei: an< i!i|m GRIM TRUTH, 19 new state ( the fashior. [course mor you do awa 'Oil to last 11; land Harry t Jrly what the: exist betwee: :annot have, icquaintance can't call tlit y is in a statt and Edgevalt e face of tht tical as to tht ' there will bt mxious to set and I expec: 10 have taker ire obliged t( 5pers. I vvil CHAPTER in. " The mind as well as the body has its self- protecting instincts." — Charles Re \DB. TlBtE morning after the tennis party there were no daily papers issued, and when Mr. Johnson went down to the printing office to advertise his house, he found everything closed. As he was looking round for some one to explain this state of things, he caught sight of a reporter connected with the establishment at the corner of the streets. He had often had a friendly chat with this young man, and he was pleased to see somebody who could give him some information, and accordingly advanced towards him. But to his dismay, when the reporter saw him drawing near, he vanished down another street. Mr. Johnson quickened his steps and turned the corner, and when his ffiend of a day or two before saw that he was pursued, he took to his heels and ran with all his might. It would be impossible to mention all the difficulties the Johnsons encountered before they were able to take their departure. Hardly any one was willing to do business with them, and so many people were in the midst of moving, too, that there seemed to be very little prospect of letting their house. At last — it seemed a long time to them before the happy day arrived — they got away, taking with them the now faithful Jane, who was a model of silent industry when not telling her beads, and leaving their house with a placard on its walk". and its gates, on which was printed : — House to let. Apply to Dr. Selwood, 460 South Street. 20 GRIM TRUTH. The doctor helped his friends oif much against his will, for he \va very reluctant to lose them, and disappointed to find that so few hat the courage or desire to brave the trouble out. His services wert required as a go-between with some trades people and others wh avoided a personal interview, for the Edgevale people had grow accustomed to the doctor's frank and sometimes grufi" ways, andh was known in almost every home. During the week the epidemic raged, his time was more fully taker. up in a variety of ways than it had ever been in his professiona, capacity, though he had never been an idle man. He told Mr. John son in his first letter to him that no Holy Father had ever been st burdened with confessions as he was, and he was more than ever anxious for things to adjust themselves. He knew the addresses o: almost every one who left the town, but, of course, he was bound in honour not to reveal them, and he could often say : " What fun it wil: be for the public if ever I get brain fever ; and if this kind of thing lasts much longer, I shall certainly have it." He was almost single-handed in his work among the sufferers, foi 5^oung Dr. Jewell, who had had a large practice, had left the place ven suddenly. The morning of the famous " at home," he had called, as usual, on a wealthy lady patient who had suifered for some time fr<3m a nervous complaint. It was a very warm day, and she was fretful, as people art apt to be who spend most of their time in the house wrapped in self contemplation. She had found Dr. Selwood too blunt and bracing for her disorder, and when Dr. Jewell appeared on the scene, she though he was all his name expressed, and in a short time his daily visits to her were an institution. " When shall I be well. Dr. Jewell? I am tired of this. When'' shall I be able to go about like other women ? " she demanded, with out her usual docility. " You are quite well now, physically," he answered, while his hand: " an< yo«ir Sh brigl *M ofth tob( it (( was, dan (( (( doei '^ GRIM TRUTH, ar J, for he wa It so few hai ^rvices wer: others wh had grow: ^ays, andh |e fully taker professiona: Id Mr. John .n-er been s( re than ever addresses o: /as bound ii; at fun it wii: :ind of thing sufferers, for le place very IS usual, on a ni a nervous as people are Lpped in self i bracing for she thought lily visits to his. When mded, with- , while hi^ handsome face became very red, and he looked longingly at the door ; '• and there is no reason why you [should not fulfil all the duties of your position, if you liked to set about it." She looked at him in surprise for a moment, and then her face brightened. V Oh ! you are going to try that new treatment you were speaking of the other day. Tell me how to set about it, for I should dearly like to be a strong woman again. Do sit down, doctor ! " *' No treatment is necessary ; you are a strong woman now." " How can I ever thank you, then, for all your care ! The moment I awoke this morning I felt different, and could not understand how it Wits. It's all your doing, dear Dr. Jewell," she exclaimed with enthu- siani, " you have cured me by your untiring zeal." " Not at all, not at all " ^V Oh ! you are too modest now, doctor. Do sit down. Why, how s it come about that I am well to-day after being an invalid for nths? " You were well enough all the time," and the polished man of the rid chewed his fair moustache, and kneaded |his hat in his hand till 'was shapeless The invalid sat bolt upright in her cushioned chair, and asked with flashing eyes : — ' ' Then why did you come here to attend me so regularly, pray ? ' ' * ' Because " — he tried to keep back the words, but they would come — ** Because you wanted me, and — " "I wanted you to make me well," she interrupted ; " but if I was not ill, what did you come for ? " " My fee ' ' He grasped his poor crumpled hat, and made his escape down the stair and out into the street, where he presented such a startling appearance that a policeman at hand would certainly have |:ept him in sight, had he not been afraid it might lead to conversa- tion. So the poor doctor made the best of his way home unmolested, ""iind lost no time in making arrangements to leave the town. 22 Gi<\M TRUTH. That same morning Mr. Chester, ^vhose non-appearance at the tcr: party Mrs. Johnson had so deplored, was very busy among his pco parishioners. 1 will not distress the reader with a detailed account of what curred. The people of the lower class acted differently while undert new influence f^oni their more refined fellow-citizens, and, instead avoiding one another, nearly all of them seemed anxious to have itot and gain all the information that they could possibly gather frc their afflicted neighbours. The eagerness with which some of the; would listen to the disclosure of secrets detrimental to the characti and well-being of their friends was disheartening to the hard-workii. clergyman, and when, after frankly interchanging their opinions i each other, they would resort to blows, he felt himself utterly helples He could do nothing to make peace even when tongues alone were; use, for he discovered that he was far too frank himself, and the n spect and affection hie parishioners bore him was not of a sufficient, tough material to endure after they heard how he despised their lo ways. The clamour and noise in the street was awful, and he coul find no policeman anywhere to appeal to ; so when he returned hori; he frightened his poor wife by the worn and awe-stricken look on hi face. " Oh ! Fred, you look as dreadful as everybody else. All the tow: is going mad, I do believe." •' Yes, it seems like it — but I wish to be alone," and he avoidei further conversation by shutting himself up in his study. The next day he and his wife went to the country, where thev stayed for the rest of the week, only returning on Saturday for tli; Sunday duty. As they drove homeward through the now quiet streets they saw notices on some of the churches of other denominations, t the effect that the services would be discontinued for the present. " Fred," said the lady, " hadn't you better follow their example ? " No, dear," answered her husband. " With our beautiful liturgy the I .1 ■»*- GRIM TRUTH. 93 ce at the tci [ong his per t of Avhat hile under I nd, instead to have it 01 gather frf some of tlu: the charact; hard-workii; ir opinions :terly helple,v alone were : f, and the n a sufficient: ised their lo and he con! eturned hori; n look on hi All the to\v: I he avoidec where thev irday for tlk quiet streets iiinations, t present. ' example ? tiful liturgy the service will be a comfort to many, I am sure. If it depended upon myvSelf I would undertake it." *• But the sermon ! " V I have sermons by other men better than anything I could write, ftl]^ I will read one of them. Of course, I will explain how it is." pn Sunday, poor Mrs. Chester felt all the sympathetic nervousness, aJl she took her seat in church, which is undergone by most women lose male relatives occupy public positions. But, as her hUvSband had the service was a comfort to the small number present, who ^ked as if they had " gone through something." The congregation isisted of a few frequenters of each ol the closed churches besides a rinkling of Mr, Chester's own people. Yhe choir consisted entirely boys, as none of the basses and tenors had remained in town ; ^t the singing was sweet and fresh, though not so full as usual, and service was quite a success. ■^The rector had nothing original to say except the notices and ihe preface to the sermon. ** My friends," he wished to begin w^hen in the pulpit, but as he looked round the church, he saw very few who could with strict Accuracy be called by that name. * ' Dear brethren ' ' seemed equally difficult to say, though he knew that, in a sense, they were all brothers and sisters, but, while he failed to realize the fact, it was impossible to use the words. He thought of ' ' Dear people, ' ' but the first w^ord was out of the question, as there were only one or two people in the church who were dear to him, and " people " alone would never do. There was a pause that Mr. Chester thought would never end, dur- ing which these thoughts passed through his mind, as he tried to pre- pare his little introduction. How readily the ' ' dearly beloved ' ' had slipped from his tongue only the Sunday before, and now he could not have uttered the words to save his life ! What a judgment had befallen him for saying more ill 24 GRIM TRUTH. than he meant, or not meaning what he said, thought he ; and then and there he began to preach himself a little sermon. ** It is not the words that are too extravagant," he said to himself, and the silence grew unendurable to his poor wife ; ' ' but the fault is in me, that I do not feel all that they express." Never was so short a sermon preached in a pulpit before. After thai he braced himself to say the following : — " I am going to give to-day a seruion of an eminent Christian now- living, instead of words of my own. i have no doubt you all know my reason for doing this, and it is my earnest prayer that when I speak to you straight from the heart, you and I alike will have profited by the lesson we are now learning. ' ' Mrs. Chester breathed freely again, while her husband began the discourse he had selected, and Dr. Selwood found it hard to suppress a jubilant " Hear, Hear." It was the first instance of moral courage the doctor had seen to refresh him since the epidemic broke out, and he began to hope again that better times were in store for Edgevale. He had always considered that the young rector was too plausible, and his careful way of choosing his words used to irritate the plain- spoken doctor, who preferred a little recklessness in a young man ; while, on the other hand, Mr. Chester found the doctor wanting in polish, though he held him in high esteer\ But after the service! have described, a firm friendship was established between the two. The doctor dined at the rectory that memorable Sunday, and they agreed to work together among the sufferers. and then] to himself i the fault is GRIM TRUTH, 25 CHAPTER IV. ristian now 11 know my n I speak to )fited by the began the to suppress )ral courage )ke out, and f Edgevale, 3 plausible, ;e the plain- oung man; wanting in le service I m the two. ', and they " The world's grown honest. Then is doomsday near." — Shaksperb. Chester's church and choir had sustained a severe loss in the arture of a successful lawyer — one of the tenors I mentioned as ^ng missing from the service, or perhaps I should say the proprietor dl one of the tenor voices. It was a particularly sad case, as he left a wife and young children to mourn his loss. But this is not day will see om the right 'e is any one 5 fault— must ^ nost aboutit id on with a ■ the circum- indow in the v^ous-looking led t'~ say :—! ore notice of G/?/Af TRUTH, 27 »> (( " No, sir.' " Talbot?" " No, sir." " Littlefield? " " No, sir." " Benson ? " ' * Yes — sir ? ' ' The boy last addressed spoke the words as if asking a question, but he changed colour, while he looked back at the master with more courage than ease. ' " I am speaking of the breakage of the window in the lecture room. ' ' " Yes, sir." " Do you know anything about it ? " I •' Yes, sir." Did you break it ? " Yes, sir. " Benson's legs were twisted round those of his chair, and he hacked the desk with his knife, in a helpless way, while the despair on his ,ce was almost pathetic, for telling the truth was a new and painful perience to him. " Why did you not tell me at once, instead of causing all this ouble-?" ** Because I wanted ^'■ou to think it was Simpson," answered the boy, staring at an ink spot on his desk, while he was conscious of the aze of a hundred pair of eyes. ** I will see you after school, Benson," said Mr. Ingram, sternly : and now to work all of you," for the boys were inclined to become sorderly at hearing these wonderful confessions from such a char- ter as Benson. ' The morning passed very easil5\ There was no cheating in the les- ns, and a great deal of awe-struck silence among the bad boys, who foon discovered that they could not trust themselves to speak. The master's spirits revived as he noticed the improved state of things, ;Sii 9S GRIM TRUTH. and a wonderful amount of work was got through that da5^ Durini^ the week, of course, he lost a number of pupils ; but in spite of that, he was quite proud of his school, and when I saw him he spoke of the epidemic as one of the greatest blessings that had ever befallen him in his professional capacity. He had, of course, suffv^red some social inconvenience. \ •'■f ■?■:■ CHAPTER V. '• For love will still be lord of all." — Scott. One day towards the end of the week I write about, a young girl might have been seen strolling along a country ro?d in the vicinity of Edgevale with no companion but a large mastiff dog. Solitude was a thing so much sought for by everyone at that time, that her lonely appearance excited no remark. She was a pretty, slender girl, with soft grey eyes, and a proudly sensitive mouth. She might have been called beautiful, if it had not been for the paleness of her face and the troubled look on her fair white forehead. She held the huge dog by the collar as if she found comfort in his presence, and he walked quietly by her side in sympathetic silence, occasionally glancing up at her face as if he felt that he was in her confidence. A few days before he had been her only confidant. All the little (?) worries, vexations and griefs, inseparable from young ladyhood, had been poured into his softly-flapping ears, and he had never seemed in the least bored by them. He had always taken her part against every- body, if the expression of his eyes could be relied upon, and best of all had never repeated a word. gl GRIM TRUTH. 29 l5^ During pite of that, spoke of the illen him in some social — Scott. young girl : vicinity of itude was a her lonely girl, with have been ;r face and ! huge clog he walked ancing up e little (?) hood, had seemed in nst every- best of all But during the last day or two, dreadful things had happened. When her brother Joe teased her because she looked sad and senti- mental, she had told him things that even Nero had never heard, and that she had only half known herself. While she thought no one knew her trouble, it seemed quite easy to bear. It was nobody's business if she lay awake most of the night, as long as she was ready to pour out her brother's coffee in the morning, and attend to her invalid mother. Jp|e was just as full of fun as ever, apparently, and the life of every party she went to, so that she often wondered at herself for not caring more. Then one morning Joe tormented her till she said things she could have killed herself for saying, and Joe too — ^Joe especially. So the cruel wound was opened, and she knew of its existence as she never would have done if prying eyes had not found it out. " Oh ! Nero. You're my only friend. You're the only person in the world that isn't hateful," she said, as she took a seat on the grass the roadside, under the elm trees. Her faithful friend stretched himself at her side, and laid his head her lap, while he caressed her hand and gazed at her with a devo- n in his eyes such as only a dog can feel for a human being. Her head dropped upon his great neck, and she cried as if her heart ould break. A low growl from her companion roused her, and looking up she saw a speck in the distance which looked like a man on a bicycle. Rising quickly she dried her eyes, straightened her hat, and turned to walk in the same direction as the bicyclist was riding, so that it would ■ Hot be necessary to meet him face to face, and devoutly hoping it might trove to be no one she knew. ^ She felt a strange nervousness as the soft whirl of the wheels sounded near, and she turned her head and looked across the fields in the opposite direction from that whence the sound came. The whirling ^ound suddenly stopped, and with a jerk the rider almost stumbled off the bicycle, exclaiming : — 30 GRIM TRUTH, is iiil ' * Why, lyouie ! were you going to cut me ? I knew who you were whet* " I was ever so far away, because of Nero. Here, Nero, old fellow ! " ^^llir The bicyclist was young, and his handsome brown face fairlyiM, "H beamed with health. His flannel suit showed off his compact figure to % ^3 advantage, and there was a brightness in his dark eyes and a glo\i; f "^r upon his face, which was perhaps accounted for by the exertion oi -^.A coming up the hill. He was no ; tall, but his build and carriage were ^« so manly that his rather low stature was hardly a disadvantage, anw his head was set on his shoulders like that of a young prince, — I mean, as we suppose young princes' heads ought to be set on. The young girl bent over the dog and spoke to him, taking his collar'' in her hand again, as the young man walked beside her, pushing the | bicycle. " I was wondering when in the world I was going to meet youl again," he continued. " How fortunate that I came across you now, I didn't see you at Mrs. Johnson's party." " No, I didn't go. Is it true that she has gone away ? " " Yes, didn't you hear about that? " ** Joe told me she had gone, but we've seen so little of anybody this week that I've heard no particulars. Nobody has called, and I haven't cired about going into town. I suppose her party was a farewell affair." " No, I don't think she had any idea of going away before it came off." ' ' What made her decide so suddenly ? ' ' asked the girl in surprise, '* She was so disgusted with the way everybody behaved," and he } turned to look at the landscape. ' ' What a lovely view one gets from f this rising ground. ' ' k " Yes, it's very pretty. But how did her guests behave? I thought" the party was to be very select. ' ' | *' Yes, all the nice people were there, but they didn't all behave nicely," and he looked uncomfortable. ^e gr GRIM TRUTH. 31 u were whet' fellow ! " face fairly act figure tc and a gloir exertion 0; arriage were antage, am ce, — I mean, ig his collar pushing the o meet you| s you now, I nybody this ' tid I haven t 5 a farewell fore it came in surprise, :d," and he le gets frouij ' I thought, all behave Do tell me all about it. What happened?" she said, turning face for the first time upon him. [er eyes had lost the traces of recent tears to a great extent, though ^y had a heavy look which added to their softness, and her cheeks lispre still flushed from the surprise of his sudden appearance, while the brown hair beneath her sailor hat was tossed in a picturesque way ^ch increased her beauty. [e was looking uneasy when she turned to him in questioning sur- [se, but his look of embarrassment gave place to a wistful glance of :h respectful tenderness that she turned away again. Uncon- msly, he moved nearer to her, without answering her question. You were at the party yourself, were you not? " she asked with a ightened colour. '* Yes — I wonder how long this hot weather is going to last." I" It was very hot the day of Mrs. Johnson's tennis party. Were ;re any good games ? " "No, I don't think they plaj^ed at all." ["You speak as if you had nothing to do with it. Did you not ly?" " No, I didn't go near the grounds." j** You are so reticent about it, I shall think you behaved rudely too, ^d helped to drive Mrs. Johnson off," said the young lady mischiev- isly. [Her companion bent over the dog and patted him, getting a low ^owl in response. ** What a cross brute he is ! We used to be good friends, too." ** Joe likes him to be reserv^ed with strangers." Am I a stranger, Louie ? " And there was a tone in his voice [hich brought the colour to her face again. " Nero thinks so, evidently, and I think you are very disagreeable rt to tell me the news. I am so quiet here in the country, that I low nothing of what goes on." s^ GRIM TRUTH. * * There has been very little going on. I never knew such a quie" week. I have been out on the bicycle alone every day after bank hours and so many of the fellows are away that I have had double work.' ' ' Bridget told me there was a great deal of sickness in town, anci that lots of people were going away. You look very well, ' ' ' ' I never was better in my life ! I feel as if a weight had been liftec'1 from my heart." He spoke impulsively, and said the last words almost against hii| will. " Well, there's something strange about you to-day. Were you asj peculiar at the ' at home ' ? " " Yes, I was a little peculiar," he said .sheepishly. ** Poor Mrs. Johnson, after going to so much trouble ! " " I wasn't rude to Mrs. Johnson, I hardly spoke to her — I say, that's| a splendid looking horse in that field." •* Whom were you rude to, then ?" she inquired laughingly. " Katie Watkins, since you ask me," and he met her glance a little: defiantly. " I am sorry I asked you rude questions, Charley, and I don't know why I was so inquisitive," answered the girl humbly. Then she con- tinued with an attempt at carelessness, ' ' I dare say it is not so ven serious though, for Miss Watkins is sure to forgive and forget, so ij don't suppose there's much harm done," * ' There is no harm done, I^ouie ; but I don't think Miss Watkins willj ever forgive me." " Why, what ever did you say to her? — but you're losing your after-, noon's ride." " I told her I proposed to her because she had money," answered^ the young man with a frown upon his face and a heightened colour, while he looked straight before him. " Oh, Charley ! how could you say such a thing ? You ought to be ashamed of yourself." T he h t< i( GRIM TRUTH. such a quie : bank hour> Die work." n town, an 33 >> d been liftK ; against lii; Were you a: -I say, that'; ingly. lance a littk don't kno\i iien she con- not so ven forget, so I Vatkins will \ your after- ," answered! med colours DUght to be r I don't know how I said it. She was asking me sentimental ques- ts, and I told her the truth. I was ashamed of myself at the time." [* If you told her so, I am sure she would forgive you. She knows care for her now." [' But I don't care for her, Louie, and that's what I told her. I told I never cared for any one but you." /Ouie's face was a study. [* Go away this minute ! You've no right to speak to me like this," the delicate hand which held the dog collar trembled. [' I didn't mean to speak this way, or to mention poor Katie at all," liidthe young man with a deeper blush, " but you asked me ques- is, and I had to answer them as I answered hers the other day. I ['t help being a fool, and I don't know what's got into me." Well, go away now, please, and then there'll be no more harm fe," she said with a great effort to be calm. 'Don't call it harm that these wretched mistakes are put right. Now so much has been said, give me a little hope. Can you ever care [me, lyouie ? " he pleaded with his very heart in his eyes. I ao care for you now — Oh ! go away. I didn't think you could be lateful." Hateful ! Don't say that. You don't hate me." Yes, T do." Her lips were quivering and her eyes full of tears, but would rather have died than give way. *he happy light faded from her companion's eyes for a moment, and he asked : — How can you hate me and care for me at the same time ? " I don't know — I wish to be alone, Charley." The way in which slis said his name gave him courage, and he said in a low voice : — " But you do care for me a little, don't you ? Will you ever love me and forgive me for all — for being such a contemptible wretch ? ' ' ^* Yes— Oh ! do go away." - Tpe came very near instead, but she shrank from him, and Nero u GRIM TRUTH. growled again. " Just listen to me one minute, Louie, and then I'll go." He leant against his bicycle while he spoke, and she waited wilt the faithful dog by her side. "You know, I was always an extravagant fool, for before fatlit ■ lost so much money I had everything I wished for. When I cam here to the bank my salary was small, and after a time father got tirt of paying my debts, and he told me I'd have to be independent of hir and marry a rich woman. Poor mother urged me to do the same, fo-^. she thought I never could be economical. But I never, never woulcl have thought of .such a thing, only that idiot Lightbourne was swetl ^. on you, and you seemed to encourage him and were so cool to me, tha^HB I thought I had nothing to wait for. I never had a happy momer. ^^^ while I was engaged to Katie, except when I forgot it now and thee J and I had every intention of breaking it off when I got an opportunity ^^ Of course, I am sorry for the way it came about, but it's a good thint over for both of us." He paused out of breath, and nervous from hi long harangue, and looked at her. " Yes — but go away now." " Do you want me to go? " " Yes." His face fell at this. "Shall I go forever?" " Oh ! no," and she raised her eyes to his face as she said the won quickly. " Then I may come back in a little while and we shall be goi friends — more than friends ? " " Yes — but good-bye now," and she held out her hand. He took it in his own and held it for a moment or two, while Nen glance inquiringly from the young man to the maiden, as if trying understand what it all meant. L,ouie watched her lover as he mounted |his bicycle :nd sped awa; under the trees, and then she and Nero turned into the gate, for slii Lad reached her home before they parted. I GRIM TRUTH, 35 waited will 'before fatlid hen I eani: :her got tire indent of hin the same, fc never woul ne was swet ol to me, tb ippj' monier; ow and thee opportunity a good thini vous from hi said the wort ;hall be gocx 1 D, while Ncr s if trying t id sped awaij gate, for slii CHAPTER VI. l^ARLEY Clement did not allow very much time to elapse before he il^iled himself of Miss Louisa Forest's permission to call again, and degrees Nero got quite accustomed to him, and so did all the rest of family. Of course, the epidemic had passed away by that time, things were beginning to adjust themselves again after it. i^he engagement was not a very long one either, as speedy promo- ti|n in the bank came to Mr. Clement, owing to the departure of so tiy of the clerks in the prevailing panic, and before very long he was a position to marry." It was at the house of the newly-married pie that I spent some of my happiest hours while in Edgevale. hey were rather reticent on the subject of the epidemic, and Mrs. ment always coloured up at the mention of it, especially if her er Joe happened to be present, while her husband would laugh fliid turn the conversation. It was not always an easy thing to turn the conversation if Mr. ^|||anple were holding forth, for he was never tired of discussing the [Uble from its cause, which he attributed to earthquakes and not to robes, to its effects, which he declared ought to be as beneficial to as it had been to him. He generall)' losed these long harangues ;h :— And that's how I came to marry Sophia." e intends to be prepared if it should come again, and to that end ps himself in a state of aggressive truthfulness, which is very ing to any one not in a robust state of health. He is|a very kind iband in his way, but still Mrs. Temple has a good deal to put up Jtf GRIM TRUTir. with. He is anxious that she, too, should be fortified against anothj attack, and so is constantly taking her up if she says anything whici he thinks smacks of insincerity. In that way he applies a .sort i moral vaccination, as he maintains that if one is thoroughly inocil lated with truth, there is no danger of the graver trouble of unvvilliii| frankness with entire Iv.ss of reserve. Mrs. Temple used to be called " Sophia" in her maiden da\>| but now her husband declares that to shorten her baptismal name; a species of insincerity that he cannot tolerate. I have often heard him interrupt her when .she was engaged in con] versation with a vi.sitor. *' Sophia, are you quite sure your statement is correct ? "or. " Btl a«:urate, Sophia ! ' ' Sometimes if he heard her indulging in an>- connnonplace civility^ he would say, warningly : — " Don't say anything you don't mean, my dear." She generally received the.se reminders with a faint smile, soiiit' times remarking to her friends that it was just " lidward's way." Tlicre is another person who was continually discussing the epidt 1 niic, and that is Mrs. Jordan, the proprietress of the house in which!; boarded, which house, as I remarked in the first chapter, had haul occupied by some of the worst cases. She did not take the happy view of the case that Mr. Temple did as it had deprived her svu'denly of her most paying l)oarders. and sli had never done so well nice. " Why my hou.se should be blamed, sir, I don't .see," .she would sa\| with tears in her voice if not in her eyes. " There was many took] bad in tlie town besides my boarders. They do say as all disease these days comes from microbes, and I'm sure I never had an>Uiiiit; like that in my house. The worst I ever had was a few moths, ami I always doused every one well with canfir. Never a cockroach or an\ thing made a home here, and it's taking the bread out of the widow .v GRIM TRurir. 37 a i list aiiotli; ything win ies a son u^hly iiioc of uiiwillii:, luideii (lav. inal iiaiik aged ill o: ?"or, "li lace civilitv smile, soiik s way." I the epick ' ill which I jr, had hcti: Temple di'i ers, and >\\ e would .s;i; many took all discan [1 anytliiii:: loths, and \ 3acli or aii\ he widow > fatherless' mouths to say it was my house done it. It was no insects started folks telling on themselves like that ! " These things are carried in the air," I said. Then they never got into 7ny house. I'm not one for draughts. ce to make my bojiiders comfortable." [Yes I'm sure your boarders caught the disease elsewhere." lis .soothed her, and she continued in a different strain for a few ites. [it was the solemnest time ever I pas.sed through, for there was a pie week I hardly said a word. Why, there's lots hasn't been right leir heads since, sir. Whenever I think of it, when I'm not feel- luite myself, I just goes into the parlour and I summons up all my I declare, I've bin afraid to open my mouth ever since." remarked here, that I had been taught that true courage consists )ing our duty in spite of fears. Miat's just what the Reverend Mr. Chester says, sir, and I'm srre tell you in a minute that it was no fault of mine that the Jen- bes was took so bad." ['m sure he would," I said, trying to escape by edging nearer the t was their inside consciences made them say the things they did. they said the awfulest things. I could tell you lots," and she d wistfully. wever. an eiigaf^emeiit made it impossible for me to hear more. e inhabitants of Edgevale speak of it as having gone down in a gjMft measure since the trouble, but there are others who see .signs of y iniprovement, and sa>' that there is a good deal of business d<^| in a ((uiet way. All agree that it is a delightful place to live in, and extrc nely healthy. I can vouch for the latter, as the benefit I derived from my short sla>' there was wonderful, and I feel strongly tempted to accept Mr. and Mrs. Cleiiu-nt's cordial imitation to visit next summer.