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<2 m m ■:'■£> 1^ ■ ♦♦ 0^ i''> ; I'. J/ By MAY LEDNARI] 'Wjm ,.v v ^ HT 'JBCTyTJL ■ t.f _ y- ■< ■_ . i« "i: "^E*- »^ -^ — =— ■' ^'T'T/ < ■ 1 •t *f- ^..''~»'jS;*'jxr:A ir: ■«* »■ V ■\A TRIXIE'S INHERITANCE OR: Which Shall Win ? *n < '. A NOVEL, A •f *f- ■»■ » BY MAY LEONARD. SAIKT JOHN, N. B.: DAILY TE'^LOEAPII STEAM PRINT, CANTERBURY SIREET, 1886. ) TRIXIE'S INHERITANCE; OR, Which Shall Win? CHAPTEE I. IX INDIA. "You are better now, pnjwi, darling? ever so iiiiicli better I can see, for your fac(^ is <[uite red and liealthful looking, and you must try and rest now. while I see after Winnifred. I ain sure I cannot tliink what the child will say to that dark, fierce-looking nurse I have en- gaged for her : but tlu?n, I suppose, as we are out here in the centre of India, we must accede to the country's laws, with even such a small trille as hiring a nurse-woman the color of copper." And so from one topic of interest to another, this girl cheerfully skipped -this child ns she might be called for what is a girl of eighteen, to battle with the world and its cold inhabi- tants '* Mr. T)up Rieo, after the death of his wife, which occurred shortly befor(> our story opens, was obliged to leave his home and go to India to secure the legsxl papers from a lawyer there — the said papers being necessary to his securing an immense fortunii which had been left him some j^ears ago. Those documents could not be sent to their owner until he had came to India and personallv siirned for them. Ho it was that having no near relatives to leave them with, lie took his children with Jiim— Winnifred, the youngest, being four years old, and Pauline, his loving companion and comforter, being then scarcely eighteen. Always being of a delicate, weak constitu- tion the voyage, which had been both long and stormy, did not by any means improve the weak state of his health; and now, just one week after their arrival, a very sudden illness had seized him with seemingly greater force than ever, and the intense heat of the clin^ate rendered him altogether utterly pros- trate. Yesterday the deeds had been signed and delivered to Mr. Dup Rieo, which rendered him worth thousands of dollars. And at his death it was to be divided (H|ually b|>ost'(1 to undfi'takn sncli a (•liixri,'p ivs tliat of caring lor two friend less giils among strangers. The jdiysician who \isit('(l Ijini was bur- dened already with a hirgfi family of Ids own. and had his own interests to study. As for the minister, he was a young man just newly ordained, and of course ]\Ir. l)uj> llieo cotdd not ask him to nndeitake the task. I>ut thei'e was one other who came fre- «- CHAPTER If. THE C O N S 1' I H A C \ ^■' I Weary, and sad and lonely wei'e the days succeeding the funeral — sad, indeed, for the girl who now stood friendless. Mrs. Colonel Sheldon, a wealthy lady, who liad stopped with Pauline after her father's death, begged the desolate, grief-stricken girl, to go home with her to the elegant home, which would be glad to receive her ; but Pauline kindly and firmly refused the col- oners invitation — thinking she should stop where lier father had left them. And then it was that Mr. Miserene, in his blandest tones, proposed that both Pauline and Win- nifred should take up their abode at his house, and there make their home. " You know, my dear young lady," Mr. Miserene explains, "you will help to brighten up our lonely house, for there being only my wife and I, we often feel terribly in want of young society. Of course, there is my nephew, Shirley Hugh, but he is almost always away, ^nd we do not see him very frequently ; and then another thing," urges Mr. Miserene, "it is no way for you to be living without an ■elderly lady companion, and Mrs. Miserene will answer the pur])Ose admirably." And Mr. Miserene concluded his words with a knowing smile, which made Pauline think how nmch his small blue eyes resembled those of a cat jusf going to pounce upon some poor little nnoffending mouse ; for wdien he smiled Mr. Miserene closed up his eyes en- tirely as if that was the only way he could enjoy his joke thoroughly. So with a deepened feeling of coming sor- row, Pauline wearily consents ; and two weeks after her father's burial Miss Dup Rieo and her young sister were established inmates of Mr. Miserene's household. Mrs. Miserene, a timid, gentle little woman, who seemed minutely expecting something terrible to happen to her, soon entwined her- self about the aflfectionate heart of Pauline, who truly pitied the little woman, who ap- peared to stand in such awe of her husband. In fact, Pauline could not quite understand what ailed Mrs. Miserene, for her lord and master was apparently everything needful in an affectionate hetter-half. But then, there is such a thing as being too sweet to be true, TI!IXIi:s INHKIUTAXCK 1111(1 prolalily siu-Ii was tlic ciisf witli ^\i: .Mi.M'rciic. Al.nnt !i \v('t!< fit't(>i' tliis Sliirlt'V Ilu^'li (Mine Ikjuh', iiiid if Piuiliiio (linlikcd tlic unrlc she fuirly loathed tin; ii('i»lic\v. Tall and liiinds(jiii(' as any Ixautiful .sculptured (tivok e- grace of a ne])hew to marry the rich heiress, was Horace Miserene's fondest and)ition — wliidi he did his prettiest to further. One other knew of the net which was being spread beneath the feet of the unsuspecting girl, and this pcjrson, who determined to "waru her at whate^■er hazard, of the danger await- ing lier, was no other than the meek little wife of Horace Miserene. One evening, when the small liours were creejting steadily onwaixl, Horace Miserene and his ne})hew were seated at the table in the library, in deei) conversation, and the look on neither face was good to behold. " Well, you see you must propose to the girl, and then, if she consents to be your wife, the fortune can be settled on you, and all will go smooth ; but if the child Win- nifred was out of the way, then your fortune would be complete." And Mr. ISIiserene looked keenly at Shirley Hugh, who sat with knitted brows drumming his cigar on the table. "Yes, it would be better," muses the young man, thoughtfully. " AVell, I have a little plan in ray head, Shirley, and it is this : I shall propose a trip to the seaside for the child, to improve lier health. She can go in charge of her nurse. Then a few di'ops out of a certain small l)ottle the t'ontents of which F shall not mention t(^gether with a heavy bribe to the nurse, to say she just sickened and died, will accom- plish our little scheme adnurably. AVhat do you say to it '.'' "Uncle, you do beat the J)utch for frani- in" ideas ; but hark I what was that sound '. Did you not hear something?" And going to the door, he unlocked it and p(iered out into the passage, but all was dark there and silent as the gra\e. T"en re-entering, and having fastened 'the lock securely, Shirley Hugh again seated himself. " A rat, most ])robably ; this place is gen- erally infested at this season of the year, and especially during the rainy weather," Mi-. Miserene says, reassuringly. "Yes, Uncle, but .surely that was some one,'' and with abated breath thev listened. " You are fanciful to-night, Shirley ; drank too mueli champagne for dinner. Ne\erthe- less we will try on this ])lan; so good-night, and pleasant dreams." As the two men passed through tlie hall and up stairs they were unconscious of the- figui'e, who, after their footsteps had died away, immerged from behind a bronze statue in the dark hall and tlitted away into space. " My love," said Mr. Miserene, one morn- ing at the tireakfast table, ". I think I shall send you all away to the seaside this week. It will do you all the world of good. So what do you say?" " I do not see any necessity of leaving home just now, Horace ; the weather is not at its warmest, and why hurry 1 " Mrs. Mis- erene inquires, as she helped Pauline to a second cup of cotfee. " Well, my dear, I have engaged the rooms for you, and of course you can do no better than follow my advice, and pack up your affairs and start immediately. How does thfr I Olt, WHICH SHAM, WIN i iilua soem to strike you, Miss Pnu 1 int- !" " It makes no (liirt'iciu,L' whatovor to luc, .sir," Paulinn uuswcrcd, ((uictly. *' Ah, tliere is noLhinjj; more (leliy;litt'ul tluiu \ni\n}f near the sea waves and our little one is looking rather peaked.'' And JNIr. Misei- eno touched one of the lou<;' j,'oldeu c urls that .strayed over little WinnitVcd's shoulder. " Oh, Mr. IMiserene, do you think .she looks jiale','" Pauline in(|uires hurriedly, as ishe looks at Winny with startled eagerness. • "Yes, Mlss Pauline, J do most decidedly think that the ehange would benefit your sister. She can be sent with lier nur.se; and you, with Mr.s. Miserene, *can follow them after a few days." Tlien the meek voice of JNIrs. Miserene Itreaks in with the least tinge of firm decision marking its tone. " Horace, my dear, I ab- solutely refuse to either go myself, or allcjw Pauline and W'inniiVed to lea\e this housel" " ^'()U time to s[)cak so to nu' .'" ci'ied the infiuiated miiii, as ho fairly glared at hi8 liitlii rt(» timid wife. " \ Cs, I dure and do ; Ibr remember, IIoi'- :it'e Miserene, 'rats' liu\e cars ' And as Ik; passed ouL^ the door the words "s[iy'' and "eavesdropper'' were spoken lietween his clenched t.eth. " (''ooled n.uain, and liy her,'' he gas[)ed, flinging the iloor behiml him. Pauline, as she sat and listened to this first outbreak of passion between Mr. ^lisereno and 'lis wife, wondered at the ghastly pallor which overspread the face of Shirley Hugh, as lie knitted his brows together and bent his head lower over the ))ap(;r he was reading. In after days Pauline had reason to remember all those signals of the .storm which helped to ■ wreck her young life. CHAPTER HI. THE ESCAI'K. is not ¥ "And .so, my fine lady, yon both i-efuse to become my wife, and insult me to my face in the bargain. Well, perhaps you will be sorry, for I can, and A^ill, make you humble your liaughty spirit to me— and tlu; tinie is not far distant cither." The handsome dining room was flooded with the dying rays of the crimson setting sun, and the bright beams lit up the table, prepared for tea, with its snowy cloth, sihor, and glistening glassware, dainty china, fruit, flowers, and delicate dishes. And here Shir- ley Hugh, coming in from di'iving, had found Pnuline curled up in the wide cushioned v/in- dow .seat, and had asked her to become his wife. Contrary to all expectations she had kindly, but firmly, refused hin-. Shirley Hugh was so angry he could with difficulty control himself. "I am very sorry, Mv. Hugh, but I could not think of undertaking such a solenni stej) as that of matrimony with one I could never love, and," the sweet voice continued, "an- other thing, I could not marry now, until Winny grows some years older, for who has the child to look to but me ? Were I to leave her I should always regret it." And Paidine's tone was decided. " Yes, my lady, and if I tell you a heavy- cloud of trouble is now hanging over this cherished sister, and I the oidy one who could .save her, what would all your high- ilown notions amount to V Shirley asks, sneeringly. " Danger in store for Winnifred ! Please explain yourself, six*. What do you mean? She is in charge of a faithful nurse, and what there is to fedr for her is quite beyond my knowledge ] " " We will see later ; only remember 1" and 8 trixie's inheritance; with a face like some demented creature, 81iirlov iru''h loft the room. Covering her face -with her liands Pauline leaned her head against the cool window- pane, and sobhed. "Oh, Father of the or- phans, help and teach nie what to do, for I am weak and helpless. I pray Tljee to give me strength over my enemies, and power, and keep in .safety my dear sister." Then liastily leaving her seat, Pauline ran up stairs to the nursery to see and say good-night to Baby Winnifred. Passing up stairs the house seemed stningely still and solenm, and won- dering why the servants had neglected to light the gas in the halls, Pauline hurriedly threw open the nurser}' door. All was cpiiet. Turning on the gas, which was burning but dimly, she found the i-ooni in perfect order ; hut the large Saratoga trunks, which con- tained the wardrobe of Winnifred, were ab- sent ; the tiny crib Avas untenanted, and Baby Winnifred was gone ! Turning quickly around, Pauline stood face to face with Shirley Hugh, and to do liim justice, he felt a slight remorse at his conscience when he beheld the white, agonized face of the girl before him. Then, like a wild animal at bay, she confronted him : " Shirley Hugh, I command you to tell me where you have taken my sister ? Coward ! that you should take and so revenge yourself on a lieli)less girl. Not one half hour ago since you swore you loved me above every- thing else, and even tlnn, when your fair, false words were ringing in my ears, you knew perfectly well that my sister — the only person I love on earth — was being taken from me ! Oh, Winnifred ! my darling — my darling — where have they taken you ?" " Oh, what a perfect tragedy queen I You would star in any firat-class company, to whom you might apply and favor with your acting. I am glad to se»i you have some feel- ing. I am really quite astonished at myself for not having found it out before this. But never can I give you back your sister after ! the way you have treated nie. I do not know that T should give you any information as to ! her whereabouts if I could. I would have : you know that every dog has his day, and T am having mine," and whistling a gay o^icra air he turned on his heel and left her. I Scarcely had his footsteps died away when a hand was laid gently on the bowed head of Pauline, and looking up, Mrs. Miserene's face, full of pity, was bending over the weeping girl. ' "Hush ! do' not cry any more," she said, hurriedly ; " dry your eyes and come with me." Silently, almost like a shadow, Mrs. ]Miserene glided to the elegant suit of apart- ments which she occupied. After shutting, and securely locking the door, she bid Paul- ine calm herself, as there was no time to lose in useless weeping. Then speedily pouring out a glass of rich sherry, she made Pauline drink Seating herself she began Last night, I heard the whole plan, which niy wily husband and nephew have been arrang- ing, and they have bribed Winnifred's nurse, so you, my dear, was never expected to see vour sister again alive and well, for thev had it all made up how she should be killed by slow poison. But I have taken this case in time at all events ; and Mrs. Miserene smiled knowingly, and paused to i-egain her breath. " Oh ! Mrs. Miserene 1 Then vou know where Winny is, and will let me go to her," Pauline cries, kneeling by Mrs. Miserene's side and clasping her hands. " Now, my dear, will you please to be (piiet aiid listen to reason for once, if I show you what I have here 1" Mrs. Miserene goes to lier private dressing-room and opens the door. The next instant Winnifred is clasped in her sister's arms, and Pauline is covering her face with teare and kisses. " If you do not behave yourself, Pauline, I shall have to put the child in there again and send you from the room." And Mrs. Miser- I y\ I OR, WHICH SHALL WIN ? 9 r }xft«»r b know n as to d havo , and I ,' 0[iera y when head of serene's vev the; le said, me with w, Mrs. •f apart - hutting, id Paul- e to lose pourinu; Pauline " Last lich my 1 ai-rang- I's iiui-se, id to see they had killed by s case in ne smiled !r breath, ou know ) to her," i^Iiserene's tase to be if I show erene goes opens the is clasped s covering Pauline, I : again and Irs. Miser- ene looked stern enough to put this threat into execution. Pauline regains her self-possession while Winnifred's arms tighten about her sister's neck, and understands ^he is not to speak. " Well, you see Nina got the child all ready and left lier in the nursery, while she went down to tell the man about the trunks. She had not lit the gas for fear some one would pass and see the preparations which Avere going on for their departure ; no one knew of their going but 1 ; so while she was gone down stairs Mrs. Clinde, the new laundress, came to the door and left her little boy in the hall. So T called Tim and told him to bring Mrs. Clinde's boy up, that I wanted to see him. When Tim brought him I gave the child a cake and some candy, put Winny's coat and hat on him, and left him sitting on the nur.sery floor contentedly eating his goodies. Hearing Nina con)ing up stairs, I picked Winny up and brought our little girl here- -where she is safe for the present. But my dear, if you value your sister's life, you must leave this house to-night. My husband is perfectly wild and furious at your refusing Shirley. Nothing Avould bo too bad for him to do, and all because of that wretched money which you possess." " But the child they took, Mrs. Miserene, what will they do al)Out that? They will soon find out their mistake and come and take Winny from me." And Pauline looked helplessly at Mrs. Miserene. ''Well, of course, Nina will bring the child home, and when they return you and Winni- fred must be gone. I have it all 'cut and dried' as it Averc. This evening vou must immediately put a few things together in a valise, and at twelve o'clock you must come to this room. Tim will accompany yon on your journey to carry Winnifred. He is a faithful servant, and one to be trusted ; so if you can be ready in time all will be well yet. I have given all necessary instructions to Tim where to take you, and he understands perfectly, so you need have no fear, A boat will be waiting at the river, opposite the lower gates of the lawn, you will get into it and Tim will row you across and take you to a white cottage facing the river. "Remain there until jjou hear from me. Now go and make yourself ready." Then Pauline goes away to her room while Mrs. Miserene rings the bell, and tells the servant that, as she is suffering with a head- ache, she will require nothing but a cup of tea to be brought to her." All was perfect stillness in the house. At twelve o'clock of the same evening Pauline, wrapped in a grey idster, and carrying a small hand satchel, steps tpiickly into Mrs. Miserene's room. " Oh ! Mrs. Miserene ! they have found out their mistake and that Wiiihifred is in the house, and they are £ven now coming up stairs to this very room," Pauline gasps, as she catches up Winnifred in her arms, coax- ing her to be quiet, for the child is frightened and begins to cr}'. " Never mind, they cannot get the door open — not until I choose to open it — and you see I am pi-epared for any emergency, for I thought, as you could not go out by the door you could easily escape from this window." And going to the window, Mrs. Miserene looks out and calls soUly : "Tim, Tim, are you there?" And faintly the reply comes back — "All right, marm." Tlien there is a loud knocking at the cham- ber door, and Mr. Miserene's tones are raised in loud commands as he impatiently demands admittance. With the greatest coolness, born of despei*- ation, Mrs. Miserene hands Winnifred out of the window to Tim ; assists Pauline co des- cend safely, and, with an encouraging- word in her ear, bids her keep up her courage. As the knocks at the door are becoming 10 tuixie's INHER'TAXCE; more eini)luitic, Mrs. Miseiene closes the it readily yields to Lis efforts. Ho enters the window, and «iuiftly and swiftly unlocks ai)artnient, followed by Shirley Hugh, and the door, ulid when the master of the house finds his wife reclining (luietlyoii the lounge, again renews his vigorous attacks at the door apparently enjoying a very refreshing slumber. CHAPTER IV. TIIK ENC'OL'NTKi:. H "Coi'a I Cora I get up this minute and tell me where that child is, for you know very well," Mr. Miserene calls sharply. Mr. Miserene feels rather small, as he had fondly imagined his wife would be engaged in hiding the two girls, instead of which there she was quietly i ejjosing. Mrs. Miserene looks up with only half- ojjened eyes and regards her husband with well-feigned astonislnueut. "Why, what in the world is the matter, Horace 1 This is a strange time of night to 1)6 arousing the household," exclaimed Mrs. Miserene. " I know I heard voices in here just now, and I believe you have the brat hid away here somewhere, I should think you would 1)0 the tirst to further my nephew's interests. But no. It is just the wny with women — more bother than they are worth halt* of them. Can't tell whether they are living or dead. Come now " — Mr. Miserene goes on imperatively — " let us know w hat you did with the young one ? " " Horace I " Mrs. Miserene says, *' how strangely you are talking; what child do you refer to 1 To hear you now one would think 1 was in the habit of smuggling children away in the house." And Mrs. Miserene goes into the next room and returns with two glasses of .sherry wine, which is veiy strong. She ])ersuades her husband and nephew to drink, as they seem vety much exhausted, and as both men drain the glasses Mi"s. Miserene prays in her own mind that the few grains of a strong sleeping powder will take effect (juickly, and so give the fugi- tives time to make good their escape. Her silent I'equcst is granted, for after vainly at- ; tem})ting to ex})lain their loss, both Shirley Hugh and his unprincipled uncle are feeling , the effect of the strong drug, and, after a few desperate struggles to regain their failing- senses, Shirley helps his uncle to his room. ; Soon after Mrs. Miserene, pausing outside i of their resi)ective sleeping apartments, I breathes more freely as she hears them both sleeping soundly. "And now I must go down to the river and see if the boat has gone off safely, for as soon as Horace awakes he will ha\ e every foot of ground for miles around searched thoroughly, for I expect their rage will be boundless when they lind Pauline has fled too. Poor children, I hope they are safe; and one thing is certain, they ciui never come back here again. If force will accomplish a v object, she will be induced to marry Shirley Hugh ; and if such should happen to be the case, Heaven help her." W'th these .thoughts flashing swiftlv through her mind, Mrs. Miserene hurriedly flings a shawl over her head and shoulders and wends her way down the lonely path leadim; to the liver. She soon reaches the thick shrubbery that alone di\ ides the garden from the broad, white, sandy beach. " Yes, a boat has been pushed off, for 1 can l>lainly .see the mark ou the sands. But hark I was that an oar dip})ing the water 1 " Pausing to listen, Mrs. Miserene draws her shawl more closely about her and shrinks Hd blc fu inj do th( J II 015, WHlfH SHALL WIN 11 tevs the gli, and lounge, ilunibev. Llie fugl- )e. Hev ainly at- i Shirley •e feeling ter a few r failing lis vooni. cf outside artuients, hem both river and or as soon \ ■y foot of oroughly, boundless 00. Pool- one thing back here L11V object, iey Hugh ; the case, ig swiftly hurriedly shoulders onely path reaches the the garden [i. ff, for I can ands. But he water 1 " draws her ,nd shrinks back among tlic trees. For although she ■ showed such kindness toward the helpless girls, still the very grounds seemed full of ' strange figures, and a leaf blown ott' a tree by , the breeze, caused the timid woman to start , nervously. '• I guess they are safe now, and I must get back to the house." Thus thinking she runs hastily back, through the handsome , grounds, lit now by Luna's brightest sheen, and entering a side door she fastens the lock ' after her. On turning round she stands face to face with — Shirley Hugh. I " Ha I your little secret is not wholly your own, madam. Although Uncle Horace never suspected your drugging his wine, 1 did, and : acted accordingly. If you \vould take the trouble to look out of your window you- will see where your humble servant threw his [ wine while your back was turned. And now, j Aunt, tell me where Pauline has gone, for I i know she has left this house, and you can, ■ and must, tell me Avhere ;" and Shirley drew himself into a commanding attitude. , " I never will tell you or any ont^ else j where they have gone ; so you need not try to frighten me," Mrs. Miserenc answers quietly. " By heaven, you shall, or this will end all further attempts to frustrate my plans 1 " and drawing a pistol from his pocket he nourishes it in her face. " Tell me or I will lire," he demands. " Not even ynur cowardly threats will foi'ce me to reveal their present abode," she answers with firm courage. " For the last time -Will you, or will you not?" "No! not if I die: Help! Murder! Help ! " As he is about to fire a well directed blow forces the pistol out of his hand, and falling on the floor goes off, the ball just graz- ing the wall and passed out of the open win^ dow, when a tall military man springs in at the open door, and demands fiercely : " What do you mean, young man, by using firearms so recklessly 1 It is not possible you were attempting to take tliis lady's life l" "Oh, Colonel Sheldon," Mrs. Miserene gasps, " indeed he was, and but for your timely aid I should have, without doxibt, met my death from the hand of tjiis vile man." As his aunt was speaking Shirley Hugh, who was only waiting his chance, turning, leaped from the window and disappeared. Then up the path came another figure, and Tim came in. " It is all right, mum ; all is safe for the present, nmm." Colonel Sheldon explained to Mrs. Miser- ene that riding home rather late from the village, he had heard her cries, and came to the rescue just in time. " Such men would be more at home in the States' Prison than allowed to roam at large. If you should ever want a friend, write to me, and I should be more than happy to assist you ; and now good night. ' Soon Mrs. Miserene hears the colonel's* horse's hoofs as he gallops on down the ave- nue. Then turning to the e\er faithful Tim, she says : "Ah Tim, my heart is almost broken. The very worst has come at last. Shirley Hugh has threatened to kill me, and you know what he says he will do." " Yes mum, very true ; but so long as I have two strong arms, and a mind of my own, they shall not touch one hair of your head — for I know a thing or tv.'o, and time will tell." Tim proceeds to lock the door and Mx'S. Miserene goes to her roonl — not to rest, but to pace the floor vmtil the gray dawn creeps in at the window. Then she threw herself on the lounge and fell into a dull, dreamless sleep. And Shirley H"gh, wandering about the house, soothes himself with the thought that his aunt will not dare to reveal what has 12 tuixie's inheritance ; taken place. ]iut as to what this Colonel Sheldon would think about his actions caused him to fairly dance with passion. With clenched hands and set teeth he vows that revenge himself he will on this man, who, by his interference, has caused so much trouble. Revenge will be his one aim for the future. Colonel Sheldon never knew until after years what sorrow resulted from his rescue of a helpless wonmn, from a wicked, bla(Ck- hearted, designing villain. CHAPTER V. DEPARTURE FOR AMERICA. "An' sure an' it's nieself as often wonders how such wicked people be allowed to live on this blessed earth. An' it's slow but sure. I have come to believe what Fathf ..' Timothy ^ays: how money es the root of all evil. Then again, as my old man often says, a body has a hard enough time to live without ready cash." Mrs. E\'ans thus ponders as she folds up Winnifred's clothes and lays them neatly in the sweet clover-scented drawers of the high wooden closet ; meanwhile casting fur- tive glances at Pauline, who is seated on the floor by the open window, drinking in the beauty of the fi*esh morning air-- for a good night's rest has refreshed her, and she feels strong enough to battle with the whole world, so she tells herself. "And you think we will be perfectly safe liere, Mrs. Evans]" Pauline inquires, looking up as the old woman ceases speaking. " We never have no folks come here, save the man every morning for the milk, and once in a year's run my sister comes to visit me from further up the country. There be no fear of their coming here nfter ye ; so don't trouble your pretty head, for both yer- self and the little lady will be j)rotected from the bad creatures who be a seeking you." And with a final pull of Winnifred's small stocking Mrs. Evans departs to look to the })orridge, which she declares to be burning, and to put into the oven the small cakes she hrtd been busy preparing for little Winni- fred's breakfast. As she is about to call her guests to breakfast, a boy puts his head in at the door and, thrusting a letter into Mrs. Evans' hands, bids her give it to the young lady stopping there. Mrs. Evans carries the missive up to Pauline, and that young lady tears off the envelope and reads : — "Dear Pauline :—KeeTp up your courage, for although I have had a sorry time of it, yet there is help at hand. Stay where you are until you hear from me agaiu. Love to Winny. Yours truly, Cora Miserene." Then tearing the liote up, Pauline takes Winnifred and goes down to the dainty, tempting breakfast, spread under Mrs. Evans' careful directions. They had been most kindly received by Mrs. Evans, who had a nice roona prepared, and her heart had been touched with picy for the lonely girls, and she, in he:* motherly way, had done all she could to make everything bright ; and Tim promised to come over if anything unusual occured. "Pauline, when are we going home, tell me," Winnifred asks as she sups her milk, and looks with big inquiring eyes at her sister. " My darling, we have no home now." And Pauline's voice trembles as she utters the words. " But Winny wants her dear Papa, oh take Winny to Papa, sister Pauline." And the child's lips quiver and her blue eyes fill with tears. " Now, now, none of this," Mrs; Evans puts in. " Who is going to feed my chickens OR, WHICH SHALL WLN ? 13 • the after 5cvie of bla,ck- icl in. at to Mrs. i young 'ries the ing lady- rage, for it there is you hear ERENE. Lne takes dainty, s. Evans' sen most ho had a had been jirls, and le all she and Tim r unnsual liome, tell her milk, her sister, ow." And utters the pa, oh take And the es till with Irs; Evans ly chickens this morning and help me churn the week's | from this wretched country, I shotild bless butter ? And Mrs, Evans' grand-daughter, a | you for ever." rosy girl of fourteen or fifteen takes Winni- 1 " Well, we will see. My wife wants to see fred away to get the food for the fowls, and the child's sorrow is soon forgotten. But not so Pauline, ohe ponders and thinks of all the past, and the dark future : for slu^ knows quite well that as the guardian of hex-self and sister, the law would allow Mr. Miserene to compel them to return to his house, and Pauline, as she thinks of all that has transpired, feels she would rather die first than go where she has been so ill-treated. Whilst she is thinking voices are heai'd below and glancing from the window she utters a half -suppressed cry, for coming up the wide gravelled walk, was a you, and quite likely she can hit on some plan ; but now I must be ofi' though you will soon see me again." And Colonel Shel- don rode away, pitying in his heart the girl whose life should be so bright and joyous, yet that one unfortunate act of her dead father, had been the means of placing her in such misery. That same afternoon Mrs. Sheldon drove over to Mrs. Evans' cottage with her close carriage and carried Pauline and Winnifred home with her. This arrangement was very satisfactory to Pauline, who lool-ed upon Mrs. tall, fine-looking gentlemen, with Miss Winui- 1 Sheldon as a true friend, and confided all the trouble to her which had taken i)lace. " I think, my child, you had better return to your native home, it will be best for both yourself and sister," said Colonel Sheldon after over an hour's discussion over the subject. And, as the idea of returning home was very pleasant to Pauline, he at onc(i sat down and wrote to engage passages for Pauline and fred perched upon his shoulder. Pauline determines, in her own mind, if any one can help her this man can, so she hur- riedly runs down and soon her two hands are clasped in those of the stranger. " Ah ray love, I am more than i)leased to see you, I had a note just a short time since, from Mrs. Miserene, and she asked me to come here and you Avould tell me what the Winnifred, on the first return steamer. trouble was." "Ah, Colonel Sheldon, they were sending Winnifred away, and you know I could never live without her, so Mi's. Miserene sent us hei*e as a ])lace of security until she can tell us where to go. For as far as I am concerned So it came about that a few mornings after Pauline's flight from Mr. Miserene's house, she took an affectionate leave of Mrs. Miser- ene, -svlio had come to say good-bye, and also to the kind Colonel and his wife. Then Miss Dup Rieo stei)ped on board the both Mr. Miserene and his vile nephew, may majestic "Argila," accompanied by her sister,. have every cent of the money, as long as and with a heart of very mingled feelings. Winnifred and I ai-e together; for lam young sailed away with many hearty wishes for and strong and can, and am willing to work their safe and pleasant passage. for both of us. If you could get us away I CHAPTER VI. LOSS OF THE STEAMER " ARGILA." " Well, Shirley, you have put your foot pretty deep in the mire this time I must say," said Mr. Miserene, as he sat by the table in his library, fend glanced with a sneer- ing smile at Shirley Hugh, who lounged on the sofa with a cigar between his lips. "Here, I have received a warrant for your arrest on the charge of attemptea murder !" I 14 tiuxie's inhkritaxce; "^Vllilt :" ho oxdHinind, spnii«,'iiig up and tossing,' liis ci;,'ar in tlie grato. '• You tlou't j moan itf" And Sliiiley's fan^i waswliite with sui)in'essr;d jMission. " YoK, my dear nt'pliow ; oiu- noitrhhor, (.'olonel Sheldon, has liad it issucnl and your only way is to fly the countiy, and I will |>roceed vith the seavcl: for those tiresome ",'irls. 80 you had better make use of your freedom and go as sOou as you like." Shirley paced the floor for some moments. " ( 'olonel Sheldon, hey-. J might have sus- [leoted as much," he muttered. '' Shirle}'," Mr. Miserene says, suddenly, "here is udget of news and despatches from America contained tlu^ news of the wreck of the fine steamship " Argila *' and the fate of all her passengers and crew, who met with a watery grave. Colonel Sheldon and his wife lamented deeply the untimely end of their two young friends ; and not a few tears fell from Mrs. Sheldon's motherly eyes as she thought of her own two children across the ocean. Ijut when Horace Misevene read the news his Joy was complete. He at once divided the fortune of the voung girls : deducting sevei-al thousands, which he settled on Shir- ley Hugh, who had left for New York. Then he conununicated with Afr. Dup Rieo's law- yers, informing them of the death of his charges ; and deftly explaining that out in India, ^Miss Dup liieo, before her death, had ran through with a large j»ortion of her for- tune, which had reduced it to just half of its foi-mer amount. The lawyers, supposing all to be fair and upright, proceeded to inform Miss Sheldon, who resided some distance from the City of New York, of the legac^ left her. bJa hill. if nre niec nati sniil and (whi in steai littl (Ml, WHICH SHALL WL\ ? 15 :h left ft an." serene to his ;om of own in (\ have ing un- will be When Shirley Hugh an-ivwl in New York, lio had a letter from liis nnole, t(^lling him there was no o'^casion for liim to earn liis own bread, for fortune hud indecMl favoi'ed th(>m, !is both Pauline and "VViiniifred had perished on the ill-fated " Argila," lie had made more than enough to keep him dui-ing his life time. Shirley Hugh's joy was unljounded for he well kaew that when Horat-o Miserenc; died he would becpieath (everything to his favorite nephew. Now then; was )io nt.'ea for him daily dreading to spend what money he had. Yes, now his means were unlimited and the best society received him in their homes, and Lieutenant Sliirley Hugh, just late from I India, was one of t]w. bright shining stars and tlie lion of New York society. Many designing mauiiis looked upon him j with marked favor, and for that matter the. fair daughters wcnc not slow in making tlu? most of the attentions paid them by this latest attraction. pers, he g out in , opened walking aad. ■y storm the next America i the fine ^f all her a watery lamented Avo young Erom Mrs. orht of her 30 the news divided deducting cl on Shir- )ik. Then Uieo's law- ath of his lat out in death, had of her for- half of its 1)0 fair and Iss Sheldon, the City of \ CHAPTER VIJ. nuBBV AT IIO.MK. " Bobby I 15obby ! liobby ! Oh sure an' to be sweet and pretty and fit to bo kissed,) where in the world, an' in the name of she walked over to blaster Bol>by and taking patience has the child gone. Well, well, an' him by the shoulder she gave the youngster a its meself as never s"0 such a lad, in all the vigorous shake accompanied by a sound box days I've been on this blessed earth, as ye be. ! on the ear, at which master Bobby laughed Ye be after being the very worst. Ye do ; heartily, and deftly t\\isting himself free of beat all, so yodo; an' its meself as would just her grasp, he ran down the bank, stumbled be after jjivin:' ve the thrashinji ye well over a stone, and rolling over and over fell deserve." with a sounding splash into the river below And nurse Noi-ah wiped the perspiration Nurse Noiah came down the steep hill an off her broad Irish face, as she toiled up a swiftly as her i)ortly i)erson would allow and steep hill, over-looking the river, and eyed reaching the foot stood v.ith uplifted hands, w ith well-merited anger the young genthsman gazing speechless into the water at Bobby who looked at her so complacently from crying and splashing about like a young behind the drooping branches of a hedge of flounder, blackberry Ijushes. Then he was caught suddenly by a big "My glory, how did you get up the big! wave and was b(;ing carried swiftly to sea by- hill, Norah ? Come haxo some berries, they the out-going tide. are most splendid. And master Bobby cram- \ At length nurse Norah, having in somo med his rosy mouth full of the luscious fruit, i degree recovered her breath, began to shout " Bless the child," said Norah, her fat, good- lustily for aid. natured countenance relaxing into a broad i And presently a neat little row boat made smile. •' But he bo the afl'ectionate darlin'."' • its ap]iearance from around a curve in the Then bethinking herself of the time of day, , rocks. The tiny craft was painted a bright and the condition of her charge's janafore, green and on one side in big white letters the (which by the way, looked more like an article ! name, " The Flying Beauty." Seated in this in which a blackberry pudding had been j pretty little nut-shell was a girl of eighteen steamed, than a nice white pinafore for a \ or nineteen or thereabouts dressed in a blue little boy to be arrayed in, and made for him ' sailor suit braided in white, while a white >'^_ Ifi TRIXIES INHERITANCE; straw sailor liat, with blue streamers sat lior lioad. be for ever slipiu' away from me ; but then Mi ,-]iat be he but a baby after all T Jauntily on She had been rowing along quite leisurely, , And Closes began getting the boat hauled but being attracted by nurs3 Norah's cries, ' in, muttering to himself that *' old heads could she picked up both oars, and rowed inland not be put on young shoulders." While Miss with all s[)eed. Then suddeidy she saw the little boy struggling in the water. Trixie ran up to the house to find out the extent of master Bobby's injuries. "Bobby, darling, try to keep your head Eighteen, or I might say twenty years above water ; sister Trixie is coming as soon ■ before my story opens, Ada St. Clair had as she can," shouted the girl, as she bent ^ married ]Mr. Siieldon, who was afterwards every nerve to reach the drowning child. ! made a Lieutenant and sent to India where " I tant hold on nnich longer, sister Trixie," j his regiment was stationed, his wife accom- came in faint gasjis across the water, and j panying him. reached Trixie's ears. But after a few powerful strokes she was alongside of Bobby, and sooit he was pulled into the " Flying Beauty " and carefully rowed ashore. Nurse Norah had, Avhen quite a little girl, been taken bv Mrs. St. Clair, and trained iu her service ; so vv'hen Mrs. Sheldon went to Inf.lia, Norah, then over thirty years old went too, and had been her faithful friend and Niirse Norah, who had been up to the ' servant. house and told them all that " dear master Friend I say, because Norah Avas one of 13ol)by was dead sure,"' was waiting to receive those true hearted Irish girls whom one can them. thoroughly rely upon, for their honesty and " Oh ve wicked bov, its dead ye might have been and its very thankful I am that ye be thoughtfulncss. No woman under the sun had a kinder, truer heart than nurse Norah ; alive again, yv dreadful boy," cried Norah j and Mrs. Sheldon had found her to be made between smiles and tears, as she hugged j of the true metal. Bobby tenderly, and carried him home howl- \ Wlien Trixie, IMrs. Sheldon's eldest dau"h- ing at the to]) of his voice. ter was twelve years of age, she was seized by " He is not very much hurt, for no dying : a fever which Avas raging through the colon- child could scream in that manner," said Miss • ies. For a time her life was despiired of and Trixie, as she stepped lightly from the boat Mrs. Sheldon was fairly frantic, but finally and gave the oars to the old boatmen who she grew better, and when she had somewhat .stood ready to pull the boat up. i recovered Mrs. Sheldon made up her mind " Moses be sure and shake the cushions that hard as it Avould be to part with them, well and hang them up to dry, for master j still lor the children's sake she determined to Bobby brought quite a deluge of salt water | send them to her parents in America. with him and they arc perfectly soaked." " Such a dreadful child as he is." " Now let me see, this is three distinct times he has fallen into the river this sum- mer, is it not ? Moses puts his head on one side, and gazed reflectively on the sands for several .seconds, " Miss Trixie, he be one too many for liie, I never can keep me eye on the child, and he So Trixie and baby Bobby, who was just four months old, were sent to grandmama St. Clair under the trustworthy care of nurse Norah, who parted from her mistress 'mid many tears and would not be comforted until Mrs. Sheldon promised that if it were possible, she would come over to America herself in a few years and visit them all. With that scanty grain of consolation nurse ■ » Mr N ca fo S( fe AV .1 , * f.4 OR, WHICH SHALL AVIN ? 17 ' m I \ :r Norah took her two charges and with them came to Vermont, and tliere they had been for five years and better when my story opens. Willow drove Cottage, the residence of Squire St. Claii*, was a dear old liouse per- fectly surrounded by willow trees, from which it took its name. A smooth green lawn in front, kept in ir- roproachablo order by Jerry, the gardener, was the prettiest of all the lawns for many miles around. The flower gardens were something truly elegant. Eoses of every sort, kind, or color, with numberless different named exotics, flourished in the most luxuriant manner. The house itself was white, v/ith many dormer and bay windows, fllled with beauti- ful house plants; balconies ran around the building, and trailing vines (the i>ride of old Jerry's heart) covered the easements of win- dows and doors. The rooms were all largo and airy, and furnished in a comfortable, handsome and j wealthy style. The paintings on the walls ' were masterworks of many famous artists. ; Knick-knacks of i-aro and foreign workman- ; ship were scattered profusely around and in I every apartment, on mantles, tables, stands and brackets, were huge bowls of costly i China fllled with flowers. Iii fact, there were flowcr.5 everywhere. But the sweetest flower ' of all was Miss Trixie, the cherished and half-spoiled daughter of Mrs. Sheldon, and ! the pride and delight of her grand parents, j 'Squire and Mrs. St. Clair. « ■ > ■ B " GB C"I* ■» CHAPTER YIII. MISS COXNV AND SISTER J?:RUSUA. morning on I shall now return to the which Master Bobby got his very unexpected bath in the river. Trixie ran up the steps, and after passing tlu-ough the long, old-fashioned liall, opened the door of a pretty sitting room, in which was seated an elderly lady with snow-white hair, adorned by a tiny white lace cap of priceless lace, while a dress of black silk fell about her in graceful folds— this lady is (Irandmama St. Clair. " Is Bobby very much the worse for his bath, Grandmama," said Trixie, as she threw her hat on the lounge, and i)ulling a hassock | from under the table, seated herself beside ' her grandmother. j " Poor Bobby, he got quite a fright, and 1 1 hope it will be a lesson to him to keep away from the water. The child keeps me in con- ' tinual terror for fear he will kill himself or j somebody else. Of all my family of childi-en, i and I have had ten, not one has caused me the trouble and anxiety which Bobby has," says Grandmama, resuming her knitting and shaking her head with mild displeasure. " Oh well, 1 suppose all boys are a trouble, more or less, and dear Bobby is certainly no excei)tion from the rule." "I do wonder why Shrieve has not been over here lately 1 I expect he has gone off on that old fishing expedition he was telling me of. I guess I shall run over and see Miss Conny ; probably if Shrieve is away I shall find out from her where he is," and Trixie jumped up and began putting her hat on. " Now Trixie, see here, only this very morning your grandpapa was remarking how very tall you were and soon you would be a woman. Now, what do you suppose your mother and father would say to see you rac- ing wild with Shrieve Cortland. (I shall be devoutly thankful when that boy goes back to college.) Your parents, I dare say, ex- pect to find you a quiet, sensible girl, instead h 18 TRIXIE'S IXIIKUITANCE ; of a perfect hoyden ; but it is all our fault in nllowiii<^ you to have your own way so much." And grnndniania looked at tlu; bright laugh- ing faco over hor ,si)Oc(a'.'lc.s, with a sad re- l»roacliful glance in her kind old eyes. ** Now, sui-ely you do not mind my going over to iniiuire after ^Miss Couny'.s health, do you my darling? And some day in the far dim future, I .shall most certainly settle down and bo as meek as a mouse and not look at a boy sideways for fear he might look at me. And you know, dear gi-andmama, there is any amount of time for me to be a woman and wear dresses with trains to them, which Avould render it an utter impossibility for mo to either climb a tree or jump a fence." And Trixie gave a skip across the room as if to be quite sure she was not already troubled • by any such incumbrance. " Yes Trixie, but you will 1)0 eighteen next month, and positively child, you nmst in future act with more propriety," said graud- niama with strong emphasis on the last word. '' 1 promise solemnly to walk every stej) of the way to Shrieve's and back if it will i)lease yon, you old darling." And Trixie vanished out the door and proceeded down the avenue, if not on a run, it nuist be called a pretty brisk trot. She was such a gay, lively girl that if she was not continually on the move she was not satisfied. Grandpapa had always, since she came from India, called her his *' gay little butterfly." True to her promise Trixie walked soberly along the green lane, where the sunlight was dancing in meriy circles among the branches of the tall trees which meet overhead in a perfect arch, all nature's own training. At length she opened the gate of a pretty garden, and seeing a lady of middle age stand- ing with a basket on her arm, cutting flowers which she was busily engaged in arranging into a huge bouquet. " Good morning, Miss Conny, how pretty your flowers arc looking; such pansies as those are not to bo etjualled anywhere. Oh ! what b(!auties," a)id Trixie bent over a high mound and gathered several of the best and largest of the deep purple and gold flowers. " Yes, dear, my plants are indeed beauti- fid," answered the elder lady, well pleased at the praise of her out-door pets. " But Trixie, my love, you quite startled mo, coming in so ijuietly — well, as quiet as grandma herself" " Yes, Miss Conny, Grandma thinks I should be more dignified in . the future than I have been in the past. Oh, Avell, I sup- ])0se I have been rather rebellious sometimes. Lut then one cannot be grave and quiet all the time," replied Trixie, throwing herself into a garden chair, aud placing her hat on the grass at her feet. " Why my love you seem rather of a serious turn of mind, this morning, Has grand- mother's neuralgia been more bothersome than usual lately'? Or what ne\v atrocity has master Bobby been guilty of connnit- tingr "No thanks, grandma has been stronger this season than she has been for some time. As for Bobby he very nearly got finished to- day." " Finished, my child how you talk ; but then Bobby dies and comes to life again so often that I should not feel alarmed ; but what happened nowT' And Miss Conny paused in her work of cutting the dead branches of a rose tree to fasten an obstinate button of her garden glove, and listen to Trixie's reply. " He fell in the river and if I had not for- tunately been out boating he would certainly have been drowned, for no one was near but Norah and she oould render no assistance whatever." " Dear me," Miss Conny says with uplifted hands, looking quite shocked at this last, but by no means new freak of master Bobby's. OR, WHICH SHALL WIN ? 1{) ies as those Oh! what igh mound nd largest i. ed boauti- pleascd at ;e startled s quiet as thinks I ture than 11, I sup- oniotimes. quiet all ig herself er hat on f a serious as grand- othersome Y atrocity connnit- stronfjer )me time, lished to- :alk ; but again so ned ; but 3S Conny the dead obstinate listen to I not for- certainly near but ssistance . uplifted last, but jbby's. 1 ! " Small boys are such a source of trouble. | Now when Shrieve was small he was a per- j foct cherub, we never had anv trouble with h>hri(;v».', the dear boy." | Miss Conny breathed a contented sigh as if poi foctly satisfied as to the W"^y she had j trained up the little nephew, who liad been ] sent, when only a few months old, fath- 1 «!rk'ss and motherless to the two maiden i aunts, jMiss Cornelia and Miss Jerusha Cort- land to be cared for. •* Shrieve is a j)erfect jewel ; but where is ho this morning] " •' Oh yes, my child, you have not yet heard the news. Shrieve is to start for college next Monday, to remain two years. Then he is to enter the navy, and whatever we shall do without his cheerful presence around the house. I cannot think." Miss Conny actually sniffed and shook her head, find wiped her nose in the most de- sponding manner possible. *' Why, what short notice he has had. 1 understood his vacation lasted until next month." " No, my dear, he goes Monday ; but come in and see sister Jerusha ; she is quite ovei'- set, as it were, to think of Shrieve's going." Trixie picked up her hat and the flowers, Avhich she had dropped in amazement at the news, and accompanied Miss Conny up the wide gravelled path, and entered the front door of Honeysuckle Villa. Seated in the morning room, with a cushion at her back, one at her feet, and a cushion at each side of her, was Miss Jerusha. This lady was always delicate, though not afflicted with any particular malady, for, to tell the truth, Miss Jerusha was "spleeny." She considered herself a martyr to suffering, and eveiy week she was supposed to be seized by some new complaint. This week her spine was injured in some mysterious mftnner, aind she was obliged to sit in one particular arm chair in that one particular room, and considered it her par- ticular duty to scold everyone in the house, for the very reusim tli:it she had nothing particular the matter with her. Some people said that .Miss Jerusha had been ci'ossed in love; in fact, ,sho had been all ready to be married souu; years ago to a young gentleman of whom she was exceed- ingly fond. ]*ut fortuniitely for himself, and also for !Miss Jerusha, he found out before it was too late that she did not exactly suit his fancy. So this sceniingly ungrateful young man married another lady, and spoke in loud terms of her superiority and worth, much to ]\Iiss Jcrusha's disgust, who declared all man- kind to be fickle-minded and not to bo trusted. In fact, after this disappoiutnuuit, Miss Jerusha grew morbid and stern ; for when a young and very afiectionato youth sought, in great humility, the hontir of Miss Cortland's hand and heart, she heard him say what he had to, and then coldly advised him " to go from home to some place for awhile and learn a little sense, for she had no patience with such foolishness." By all accounts the young man took the advice to heart, and went. " Dear Miss Jerusha, how are you this morning?" asked Trixie, as she kissed Miss Cortland afi'^ctionately, and drew a chair near the invalid. ** Ah, my child, I am exceedingly ill. No one knows the torture I endure. I hope you will never be afflicted in the same way I am. Dear me," and Miss Jerusha attempted to sit up, which attempt ended in a resigned shriek and a pathetic " Dear me." "No, Miss Jerusha, I hope I never shall be ; but where is Shrieve ? I am impatient to see him," Trixie says, looking inquiringly around the pretty old-fashioned room. " There he is in the summer house ! " " Shrieve ! Shrieve ! Come here, I want you," screamed Miss Conny at the top of her voice from the open window. 20 TUIXIK's INIIKIllTAXCE ; " VcH, Aunt coming," (.'unics tlio reply in d»(!cjfiil tones. •'Oil, njivcr mind calling,' liini in — I'll go out," (luifkJy responds Trixie ns she Hies past 3Hss ( 'oiiny out to tlu! summer liouse, wliero »Slirievo is ))usily engnged in packing up his fishing iiccoutrcnionts with tlie help of Xat, th(! gardeiu'r's sniiill Itoy, " Shrieve, how exceedingly inenn of you not to let me know of your leaving so soon," gnuubled Trixie, as she sat down on a hench and gazed with rueful eyes at the i)reparations going on. "AVell, Trix, it is not my fault, for how ■was I to know what the powers would de- cree ? and ther(! h. no reason why you should look so grim at a fellow," said Hhrieve. "There, Nat, that 'vill do nicely, thank you," lie said turning to the boy; and Nat, grinning, touched his hat and vanished. "Shall we go down to our favorite nook and have a chat?" asked Shrieve, as he tucked Trixie's hand under his arm. " Yes, if you wish ; why do people choose the navy as a profession, Shrieve 1 " " Do — why they wish to be able to render their country some service — why 1" "Why, Miss Conny told me she under- .stood you were going when you left College," Trixie replies. " It is my highest ambition. My father •was an admiral, and I hope I may be worthy of him, and be as brave and noble," explains Shrieve. "You could not be any braver than you are, Shrieve, were you to live to be a hun- dred," Trixi(! says ; for numerous incidents camo to her memory of the boy's generous na- ture. For instance, one day a lad much older than Shrieve, met a i)Oor old man on the road, and took liis money from him which hh daughter in the city had sent to get her father some little luxuries ho could not other' wise hav(! obtained. Shrieve went and gave the old )nan his own (piarter's pocket money, and promised at christmas time to give him half of the money which had been planned out for some of his own pleasure and amusement, but which he gave to this poor man without the slightest bit of hesitation. And many other things of a similar nature. " Yes, Trixie, I thank you very nnich for your kind thoughts of me; may you always think as well of nie in the future as you do now." The woi'ds were spoken in jest, but Trixie had cause in after years to think of thoso words with bitter regret. Now she only laughed and said he would always be the same to her, " And Shrieve you will write often to moll" "Every day," Shrieve answers emphatically. " Now you dreadful boy ; if you write once a month I expect you will think it quite an act of heroism." But Shrieve gives the hand i-esting on liis arm a loving squeeze and declares he will " try once a week anyway." " Y'es sir, that is more to the point," laughs Trixie as she thinks how the days will drag with Shrieve away. _J CHAPTER IX. A VISIT TO NEW YORK. Two years have rolled past, and only this morning Trixie has been overjoyed at the news of Shrieve's anticipated return home. She has ran down to see Miss Jerusha, and that afflicted lady seems almost well. Sho has actually been up stairs three times dur- ing the morning to see if her pet nephew's room is all it should be. OR, WHICH SHALL WIN ? ^ lis inciiloutH yenorous na- ,(l much older I oil the road, II Avliich hin t to got her lid not othor- ent and gave ockct money, 3 to give him n planned out d amusement, man without And many revy much lor y you always are as you do !St, but Trixie hink of thos(; low she only ya be the same often tome?" emphatically. ^ou write once ik it quite an resting on his clai'es he will point," laughs days will draj; )st well. !^ho ree times clur- pet nephew's Miss Conny — her face rounder and rosier than ever — is Hying from attic to collar, and might not have one so good for some time to come. lUit in a year ho hoped to aoo them from garden to stable, to the evident constor- all again; to roiuonibor hint kindly to tlio nation of black Sally, who contidos to Nat friends at Willow tJrovo Cottage ; and above with a broad grin, which shows her white all, to fool no anxiety ahoiit him, for. being tooth to ])erfection, that "IMissis seems like in oxcollent lioalth and spirits, he would enjoy tie man she war roadin' 'bout in do good book, I his Jiew duties with unbounded pleasure." who was possessed wid a debil, and war racin' and tearin' about fit to kill hisself." On the arrival of the letter Nat was dis- patched over to Willow t!rov(^ Cottage for Everything about the house wore a festive j Trixio, ami (Jrandma St. Clair said something appearance ; for oh, how terribly they had missed Shrieve. The house without him was a perfect blank. During those dark months of his absence, Miss Jerusha violently declared she could serious must ail Miss Jerusha ; so putting on her bonnet she accompani((d Trixi«'. " Has Mr. Cortland come home Nat V in- (piires Mrs. St. Clair as they proceed down tlio garden. And Nat, who is in the act of live no longer without seeiuf* her dear boy, turning a series of somersaults over the fence, for she had dreamt ho was ill and dying, and ■ stops to reply with a grin. no one would let her know. ' " No missis I reckon he ain't." And then Even Miss Conny's cheerful face would i with a war-whoop wliieh would have done lose its accustomed smile and grow a shade ^ credit to any wild Indian, Nat disappeai-s. paler as Miss Jerusha went on with her hy- j They find ]\liss Jerusha bathed in tears and .stei-ical fits, and then Trixie's bright looks and words of comfort wouh.l soothe Miss Jerusha and bring back the smile to Miss Coimy's kind face. Now the letter had come saying he was to come home. But oft times when the cup of happiness is almost to our lips, and we are about to drink, one single stroke of fate can, in a moment, dash our hopes to the ground. On the very day of his expected arrival Shvieve was obliged to cancel his visit home, for a time at least — an offer being made for him to enter the navy immediately. The offer was too tempting to resist, and Shrieve accepted, at the cost of not seeing home and friends for another vear at the ft/ shortest. He wrote a most kind and loving letter to Miss Conny, telling ** of his progress at Col- lege — of his eager longing to see them all at home; then of the offer to take the place vacated by a young fellow, who took ill and was sent home. How, he thought, if the present; opportunity was not embraced he Miss Conny explains the trouble. Soon I\Iiss Jeruslia's violent sobbing ceases, and Miss Conny ^\ ipes her eyes and blows her nose with a determined air ; no one can remain long in depressed spirits where grand- ma St. Clair is. For between she and Trixie they cheered up the two ladies to such a degree that before they left the entire party were laughing heartily at the latest escapade of IMaster Bobby. For in these days Bobby seems to have fallen off in grace. Nothing seemed too bad for the child to do, and poor grandma was in constant terror as to what depth his next ex- ploit would lead him. ' And of all the poor creatures in the world to be pitied, that person was inirse Norah. Her best lace caj) was bound to be worn by Bobby when the spirit inclined his lordship to turn somersaults or other mad antics on the nursery floor, or out on the stairs and in the halls. One evening nuree Norah had been to town and purchased for herself a long wished 22 tiuxie's inheritance ; for unci niucli dosircd dress of tlie true sliain- rock color. It was bought and sent lionie, and, as nurse Norali was absent down stairs, the servant laid the parcel on the table in the nursery to await the return of the owner. Master liobby being in the room alone and seeing the parcel, curiosity prev tiled and he tore off" tiie paper wrapping. Soon the bright hue chainied his eye and putting the skirt around him and the jacket over his head, the door was opened and Bobby passed out into the hall intent on a promemide. Hearing .son." one coming up.stairs lie got out of the window on to the woodshed, and there capered about in wild glee. Suddenly, his long garment being rather inconvenient, he fell over the side into a huge hogshead of water beneath. Then nurse Norah w:is summoned amid loud shrieks to bind up a broken arm, head, or leg, and Bobby looked for a week after as if he had been a sad victim to toothache or mumps. While nurse Novah liourly laments the untimely fate of her brand new dress, whicli, as may be imagined, presented a sorry appearance after its bath in the hogshead of rainwater. One morning in the latter part of January Trixie received a letter that seemed to convert her up to perfect bliss. **0h grandma, what do you think?" she exclaimed, bursting into the dining room ■where grandma was giving the new girl a "dressing down," as Trixie called Mrs. St. Clair's mild rebukes to the servants. " Well my love, what is it ?" remarks the old lady as she gives Patty a parting injunc- tion with regard to the manner she is to per- form her menial duties, and her required obedience to Molly, who cooks fit for a king. My, you should just taste Molly's i)ies and cakes, then you could appreciate her cooking capacity. " Why I have just had a long letter from Madge Vanderleon and she has again asked me to come pay her a visit. Now grandma dear, can't I go just for — well — say three weeks f Trixie suggests persuasively. "Well child ask grandpa, and if he con- sents I have no objections." "You old darling, of course grandpa will say ' yes.' And Madge wants me to go next Tuesday. So by the time I get my 'traps packed,' as nurse Norah says, it will be Tuesday." And Trixie embraced grandma enthusiastically and rushed upstairs. How- ever, her haste was doomed to be of short duration. In the uj)per hall, just opposite the nursery door stood a large rocking-horse belonging to Bobby. The proud owner was seated thereon, seemingly enjoying himself immensely. In passing, Trixie's dress caught in one of the reins, and the consequence was Master Bobby, horse and all were, without ceiemony, pre- cipitated on the floor. Boljby, of course, screamed at the top of his voice. He was not much hurt, but in bad humor, because Norah refused to allow him to dig out the red coals of the nursery stove with a treasured pair of knitting pegs belonging to Norah's grandmother. So he screamed and screamed until grandma said in her most severe manner, that she would certainly put the rocking-horse away to give to some good little boy who never cried with temper. This threat had the desired effect, and Bobby was soon after busily engaged in catching two poor half-frozen flies and putting them in a bottle, " for," to express his own words, " to keep for next summei'." " Madge Vanderleon lived quite a distance from Willow Grove cottage — in New York city. Trixie and she had been school-friends, and after leaving they had kept up the correspond- ence. Trixie had often been invited to visit Madge, but owing to different causes, she had never gone,, but now grandpa's consent was OR, WHICH SHALL WIN ? 23 \v grandma —say three Bly. if he eon- randpa will 5 to go next my * traps it will be id grandma lirs. How- be of short the nursery jelonging to ted thereon, snsely. In one of the ister Bobby, Bmony, pre- at the top h hurt, but refused to oals of the r of knitting nother. So randma said she would ,way to give • cried with eflfect, and engaged in and putting 'ess his own ;e a distance New York friends, and ! correspond- ited to visit iscs, she had consent was I gained, and on Tuesday Miss Trixie started on her visit in charge of a trustworthy man- servant. Madge was wild with delight to see her fx'iend again, and as they sat and chatted be- side the cosey fire in Madge's own special sanc- tum, on the evening of Trixie's arrival at the handsome stone mansion, no one could begin to relate the thousand and one subjects which were discussed. " Oh Trixie, mother is to give a large party one v/eek from next Thursday and I am so pleased you are here, you dear ; I can scarcely realize the good news yet," Madge says, clap- ping her hands enthusiastically and rocking Isack and forth in her wicker chair opposite Trixie, who thinks, as she looks at her friend, how handsome she has grown — for the pale- blue silk evening dress, trimmed with white silver spangled Spanish lace, just suits Madge's delicate style of beauty, and altogether, she looks very sweet and lovable ; for the matter of that Madge always looks pretty, and Trixie tells her so. But Miss Vanderleon pouts, smiles, and declares she has been to four evening parties, three dinner parties, three kettle-drums and a sociable, with operas thrown in, during the last week, and says she feels " worn out." " So your friend Mr. Cortland has entered upon his navy duties; how you must miss him," remarks Madge, as she pokes the coals in the bright grate. "Yes, poor old Shrieve, he disappointed ■us all most woefully by not coming home be- fore joining his ship," Trixie replies, gazing thoughtfully in the large gold-framed mirror, over the mantle, at the reflection therein of the dainty apartment and its two occupants. " I think he must have been your * best boy;' was he not, Trixie?" Madge inquires teasingly. " Shrieve and I were always the very best friends ; he always seemed like my brother, and he gave me this gold locket just previous to his leaving home ;" and Trixie unfastened the black velvet band from her throat, and passed it to Madge. " How pretty ; why there are your initials in seed pearls," Madge cries, as she holds the massive gold ornament nearer the iire-light. " But pearls are rather an inilucky set of stones — they mean tears," Madge says as she hands it back. " Oh, I am not in the least superstitious, so it does not signify," says Trixie, as she clasps the jewel about her neck. She never dreamed that Madge's Avords would recur to her, and with them vivid and startling mem- ories of the never returning past. " Yes, but now about this party of mine ; are you not perfectly delighted to think you are here 1 " asks Madge. " Why certainly, but I never was to a large party in my life ; and another thing, I have no dress nice enough," objects Trixie, with a very regretful sigh. " Now, my dear little friend, that is just what I was going to ask you about. It is to be a bal masque, you understand, and I want you o be * Juliet.' A friend of mine asked me what character I intended to assume, and I said 'Juliet.* He immediately said he would adopt that of ' Romeo.' So you see, Trixie, he will think it is I. So be sure and answer all his questions just as if you had always known him. The suit is all complete and will fit you exactly." " Yes, but would it be fair to deceive the gentleman," asks Trixie, bewildered yet pleased at the novel pleasure in store for her, " It would not be a bit of harm, and oh, Trixie, the fun there will be," answered Madge, laughing gaily at the prospect. " Yes, but he might find out, and then I should feel pretty cheap." " He will not be a bit the wiser, and I shall be ' Winter,' as white becomes my com- plexion," Madge says smiling. " But tell me who this young man is, to % I / 24 trixie's inheritance ; ■vvlioin I ain to be ' Juliet ' ; is he an admirer of yours]" inquires Trixie. "An acbnii'er of mine] listen to the child. Why no, but he is real nice, and his name is Lieutenant Shirley Hugh. Frightfully rich, good lookuig— distinguished himslf in the late Avars as many times as he has fingers and toes, and is all that any girl's heart could possibly desire." •'Very well, Madge, my ang(?l, I shall try my prettiest to bring this most bewitching gent to my humble feet. I shall do all I can, and if I fail it will be no fault of mine. And that reminds me 1 nuist away, or I shall lose my "beauty sleej),' as grandpa says, and I cannot afford to lose one atom with such a prize in view," replies Trixie. " I never considered how tired you would be," Madge exclaims, ruefully, as she hastily rises to ring the bell for Fanny, her own maid, to show Miss Sheldon her rooms, and to perform any duties for her which she might wish to have done. The suit of apart- ments allotted Trixie adjoined those of Madge, and were furnished with taste and elegance. After dismissing Fanny, Trixie draws a huge easy chair up to the fire, and placing her feet on the bright fender, slowly falls into a reverie, and liVes over again the past events of the week. CHAPTER X. THE PRIZE IS WON. \.\ " ]\[iss Vanderleon is ready and waiting. Miss, and asks will you soon be down]" Trixie was fastening a rose of vivid crimson in the bodice of her dark green riding habit, and wondering secretly, if the effect would prove satisfactory, when the maid appeared with the message from her mistress. " Yes, I am coming now. Oh, there, is not that too provoking ]" for a more energetic pull than was intended, had brought off two but- tons from the long buckskin gloves Trixie was drawing on. " Now I shall have to wait and have them sewed on. J]ut here, never mind, hand me that broad silver bracelet, it will just cover the space beautifully." And clasping the massi\'e ornament, as she went, Trixie hast- ened down stairs to the open door, where Madge,' already in the saddle, was impatiently awaiting her appearance. Mr. Vanderle-^n assisted Trixie to mount, then threw himself into his saddle and they were off." "Now, my love, which way are we to go]" inquired the millionaire of his daughter, as they trotted the horses down the avenue. "Oh, papa, we must show Trixie every- thing and everybody. First we will show her our celebrated falls, then, papa darling, the Row, where everyone is seen and to be seen." " Such glorious mornings we have for out- door exercise, at my home, Mr. Vanderleon, you should come down to Willow Grove Cottage, and help grandpapa shoot grouse. He has the surest aim of anyone in the country," Miss Trixie concludes with enthu- siasm. Mr. Vanderleon was quite tall, and not particularly " thin." Some people considered him rather stout; his own daughter used the word " massive " when describing her father. Then Mr. Vanderlegn was a perfect gentle- man, respected by the leading men of the city, not only on account of his wealth but for his sterling qualities. Then too, if you were a business man, and he was unknown tO' you, it would be a loss not to be acquainted with one of the most influential men of the city. But above and aside of all this Dudley vith sucli a you would she hastily T, her own rooms, and which she lit of apavt- e of Madge, d elegance, ie draws a md placing ly falls into past events lie avenue. L'lxie every- ! will show ipa darling, L and to be ave for out- Vanderleon, How Grove loot grouse, one in the with enthu- ill, and not e considered ter used the ; her father, [•feet gentle- men of the wealth but too, if you jnknown tO' ! acquainted men of the this Dudley OR, WHICH SHALL WIN ? 25 Vanderleon was a model, loving, attentive, husband, and an affectionate, fond father. Altogether a pleasant genial man. And at this moment as he smiles at. his young com- panion, very few would refuse to acknowledge him handsome. " Is that a lact 1 "Well, I should enjoy the shooting very much, providing 'grandpa' should send me a kind little note of invita- tion, for sometimes those gentlemen Avho are such good aim generally never can find too much game for themslves." "Ah, Mr. Vanderleon, such is I assure you, not the case with grkndpa, and you would be truly welcome." And the girl nods in an assuring way. "Now papa and Trixie, stop talking about shooting and give your attention to the per- sons and things about you. " See," goes on Madge excitedly, " there is Captain Fulton, sitting in that pretty Vic- toria with his sister, do you think him nice looking Trixie V " Very distinguished, yes ; is he a friend of yours T inquires Trixie. " Yes, he often comes to spend the evening and go to the theatre, opera or concert with us. Ah, he is looking this way now." And as Madge speaks the blonde gentleman with the bonny blue eyes, lifts his hat and smiles pleasantly to Miss Vanderleon, who bows and acknowledges the recognition with heightened color, and Captain Fulton wonders in his lazy way if any one set their horse to better « advantage. Mr. Vanderleon, with his two companions, had reined up their horses to listen to a new popular waltz the baiiil was playing. Sud- denly the spirited chestnut mare which Trixie rode reared, and giving the reins a quick jerk, the silver bracelet which she wore unclasp- ed and fell from her arm. A dark gentleman with flashing black eyes and magnificent black beard, stepped forward from the railing near which he had been standing, and picking up the ornament, pre- sented it with a profound bow to the owner. And Madge with a pleased cry exclaimed : " Oh, 3'ou have returned from your trip, welcome back." And stooping from her horse she shook hands with this gallant gentleman, and turning to Trixie said, "Allow me to present to you my dear friend who is visiting me Miss Sheldon, Lieutenant Shirl^' Hugh." Ah, Trixie, ray dear, did no kind angel whisper to you at that moment that it would have been better had you never crossed the path of this dark, handsome stranger. Lieu- tenant Shirley Hugh 1 Be that as it may, Miss Sheldan smiled, and Lieutenant Hugh raised his hat, shook hands and expressed his pleasure at meeting a friend of Miss Vander- leon's ; and then the horses liecame restless and Mr. Vanderleon proposed a start. So amid parting smiles off they go, and Lieu- tenant Hugh, giving one glance at the slight figure of his new acquaintance in the saddle, smiled to himself, and then turned and joined those who, like himself, were promenading. " Sheldon! where have I heard that name? Good Heavens ! can it be possible 1 If so, it is just the luckiest card that ever fell in your hands. Shirley, my boy, you are to be con- gratulated," he chuckles to himself, and his face assumed a smile of fiendish delight. Turning on his heel our hero proceeded up the road to C street, where was located the most popular and fashionable club in the city, and where all the first-clcss men of the day road the news, talked scandal and poli- tics, discussed their neighbor's business, and all other interesting particulars and topics. But as often as the thoughts of Shirley Hugh were left to themselves, the name of Sheldon would recur through his mind like an electric flash, and ever and anon the cun- ning smile played about the corners of his handsome shapely mouth, and the expi*ession, " By Jove, if it is only true," would escape from his lips in an almost audible whisper. ■•N% in' 26 trixie's inheritance ; r The Siinu! night Trixie had a letter from a prominent lawyer, and the next day the world was made aware that Miss Trixie Sheldon had fallen heiress to a large fortune from friends in foreign lands, and no one was more sought after and flattered than Trixie. Admirers flocked around her, and proposals for her hand were the order of the day ; and no one rejoiced so much in her friend's hap- l)iness as Madge Vanderleon. In the midst of all the excitement came the fancy dress ball. The evening arrived, "bringing coaches and carriages packed with visitors, and soon the brilliantly lighted rooms were thronged with a dazzling assemblage. Trixie had given up the plan of masking in Madge's costume, and chose instead a simple suit, called the "Morning Fairy," and very sweet and jjrotty she looked. She was quickly spied out by Lieutenant Hugh, and after they had finished their waltz they repaired to the conservatory. Trixie took off her mask, and, standing by a stone fountain, dipped her fingei's idly in the clear water, and then they talked of distant friends. Trixie happened to mention Shrieve's name casually through the conversation. "Do you know Mr. Shrieve Cortland?" inquiies the lieutenant in surprize. " Do I know him 1 '' said Trixie, and her laugh rang out sweet and clear as a bell. " Well, I should think so ; he is one of my dearest friends." " Then, I suppose, you are aware of Jiis good fortune ? " tShirley Hugh inquires. " No ; what do you mean f A.nd Trixie looks up in her companion's face, and won- ders what makes his eyes rove about so rest- lessly, and afraid to meet hers. " Nothing. But being a friend, I should imagine yci would be aware of his engage- ment to a handsome, talented actress." Lieutenant Hugh spoke the words slowly and watched their effect. " You must certainly be mistaken ; for if such is the case he would have told me. Pray what authority have you for thinking so?" And the girl drew her head up haughtily and cried in her heart : " Can it be true 1 Can it be true T Lieutenant Hugh, bending his handsome head, replied softly: "The authority on which my information is founded was the erentleman's own words to me," " His own words ! Shrieve going to marry an actress !" And with a fainting sensation at her heart, Trixie grasped the arm of a chair, and sinking into it covered her face with her hands. For Shrieve had been so much to her ; and then to turn about and treat her like this was perfectly heartless. Then the soft tones of Lieutenant Hugh whispering with great tenderness: "My dar- ling, forget this man who has treated you so meanly, and even now may be laughing in his sleeve at his cleverness in deceiving you. Forget him and give yourself to me, who loves you devotedly. Miss Sheldon, Trixie, answer me, and say you will be my cherished wife." And Trixie, in all the fierce despair of those first angry moments, thinks this would show Shrieve Cortland and the whole world how much she cared for him, and in the ex- citement and on the impulse of the moment, turns, and putting her hands into those of Shirley Hugh, says in a low, sweet voice — sti'ange the voice seems to sound in her own ears — " Yes, Lieutenant Hugh, I will be your wife." And Shirley Hugh, bending Lo bestow the first kiss upon the brow of his future wife, can scarcely control bis exultation ; for the game he has set himself to play has been won easier than he could ever have hoped. Ah, me ! in the long years to come, when sorrow and grief are shadowing their he$yy wings above her head, perhaps Trixie Shel- don will reproach h'jrself bitterly for her wilful spirit, and cry aloud for help and no I T OR, WHICH SHALL WIN ? 27 told me. • thinking head up " Can it handsome hority on 1 was the ; to marry sensation arm of a I her face ,d been so about and artless, lant Hugh "My dar- bted you so lughing in jiving you. » me, who on, Trixie, f cherished despair of this would 'hole world I in the ex- le moment, ) those of ;et voice — in her own I will be bestow the uture wife, n ; for the s been won 3ed. ome, when heir he^y ^rixie Shel- y for her lelp and no aid will come. But, as is best for us, we know nothing of what there is in store. And well it is ; for had this girl known what the years held for her, she would have prayed heaven to let hcir die now, before the evil overtook her. CHAPTER XI. THE AUNTS PLEA FOR SIIRIEVE. There was the most intense excitement and astonishment in society circles, for the engage- ment of Lieutenant Huaih with the richest heiress of the season and on this side the continent, had been publicly announced, and scheming mama's had bemoaned their very decided defeat in failing to get their daughters off so quickly as this " country chit," as they described Miss Sheldon. She had gone off in her first society season, and the defeated mama's declared it was all owing to Mrs. Yanderleon who, though seem- ingly so guiltless, v.'as a most designing match- maker. Trixie has finished her visit to town, and soon the gay society circles will know her no more, for grandma has written to say they cannot get on any longer Avithout the ■*' Light of the house." Bidding good-bye to all the giddy whirl of pleasure and excite- ment, she leaves it all and returns to the peaceful, quiet homestead, to be petted and welcomed amid smiles and teai-s by the joyful inhabitants of Willow Grove Cottage, and all the neighbors and friends, for miles around, who came to congratulate her on the large fortune and approaching marriage. Lieutenant Hugh was impatient for a hasty wedding, and would brook no delay. And often during the time which intervened before his nuptials, Shirley Hugh, ran down to spend a couple of days with his lady-love, and be most cordially received by Squire St. Clair and his wife. " Well, well ; you are going to leave us, my dear," Miss Jerusha, says as Trixie — who has run over to see the sisters — seats lierself in a low American rocking-chair, opposite Miss Jerusha, and tells the sisters of her late visit. " Now," continues Miss Jerusha, fretfully, " I always had a strong notion that you and Shrieve were very much attached to each other." "Indeed Miss Jerusha, Shrieve, I am afraid, has forgotten me long ago, for he is now pay- ing his addresses to a veiy popular Actress, whom, report says, he will shortly marry," and Trixie's red lips curl scornfully, as she waits with beating heart to hear Miss Jerusha's reply. " Shrieve Cortland marry an actress?" Both Miss Conny and her sister ejeculated, raising their hands in horrified surprise. " Yes, so he informed a friend of mine who happened to get acquainted with him when Mr. Cortland's ship was somewhere on the coast of India." " I don't believe one single word of it ; some one has made the story up, for Shrieve thought there was no girl like you in the world, and you know what I say is the truth." And Miss Conny rocked herself back and forth \\ ith a vicious swing in her dainty willow chair, while Miss Jerusha carefully turned the heel of a sock she was knitting for Shrieve and murmured "dear me, dear me." Then in order to change the subject, Trixie told of the numerous delightful pleasures she had enjoyed. Miss Conny forgot for the time her just indignation and said, while a pleasant smile lit up her round rosy face, " I never can see any good in these late parties and such affairs, keeping people up out of their beds when they 28 trixie's inheritance ; T j'i! should be asloep. I fancy there is nothing like the old time style, when you asked a few of your friends into tea, where strawberries and cream, sponge cakes and cream biscuits, currants and preserves, were the fashion. -For if anyone does enjoy preserves and hot short cake for tea — at six o'clock in the after- noon remember — it is nie." Then Black Sally, the best cook in the country to make pies and cakes, comes in with a glass dish of pears and a siher basket filled with rich, dainty citron cake, of which Miss Conny presses Trixie to partake. " I never had the cou -age yet to refuse any of Sally's cake," Trixie says as .she lieli)s her- self, and smiles at the dark vision, in a huge white apron and cap who laughs heartily and declares " dat is de truth missey, no one can make better, if I does say so myself." Then after administering a sharp rebuke to the large white and gray cat who has followed her in, Sally goes to the kitchen to superin- tend the preparations for dinner, for no one is more particidar about her dessert than Miss Jerusha ; and often poor Sally's prettiest efforts fail to please the eccentric api)etite of the invalid, who often says she "just believes Sally knew she would not care for so and so to-day." And those words caused Sally the most bitter and offended feelings, when "missis +,Kii rv • p jicr nose at victuals fit for a king." 7 \Qii .Saily would vent the phials of her '. x..t\i on every person and thing in the house, ».?\til her 1 ^ings getting the better of hpr, she, for days afterward.3, would be kindness itself flavored by the most unwearied patience, for " poor Miss Jerusha was sick and poorly, and never knowed what she was half de time talkin' bout." "And now t must go," Trixie exclaims rising, after she has done full justice to the cake and fruit, " for I have promised to help Bobby fly his kite, and if I do not keep my word he will be pouring down blessings on my devoted head." " Do you think he has improved any in his j behaviour since you left home V inquires Miss I Conny who likes master Bobby very much, i when she can stuff him with cake and other j eatables, but when that part of the programme I is over and he goes poking hi.s inquisitive ! little nose into all the thousand and one knick-knacks which make up her parlours, Miss Conny trembles least he either break her I valuable ornaments or kill himself. ! For one day he had come over to pay her a visit, and mi.ssing him for a while Miss Conny I hurried to find her visitor perched on the ] mantle, among pounds worth of costly gim- crack •, admiring himself in the wide, old fashioned mirror, and since that day nothing i would induce her to have Bobby to see her without nurse Norah was sent to see he did no mischief. ; " I do not think, as long as there are so ; many to allow him his own way, he will make I much of a good boy ; I have sad hopes for I him myself, and the last time Shirley came j down he brought him a bicycle. How we I laughed ; but grandpa has ordei'ed Norah to lock it up until Bobby can get his legs to- grow a sufficient length to reach the wheels." " Your future husband is seemingly veiy generous," Miss Jerusha says, with a slight coldness in her tone. "Very. Grandpapa says he will destroy Bobby by giving him so many handsome presents and money," says Trixie, smiling at the expression of disgust on Miss Jerusha's face. " He should keep his money — some day he may have need of it all," Miss Jerusha replies severely. Trixie laughs lightly, bids the two sisters a gay good-morning and departs. Once outside of the gate the happy look leaves her face, and, wending her way home- ward, a rush of old memories flash over her mind. *' Oh, my heart ! my heart will surely t\ OR, WHICH SHALL WIN ? 29 any in his uires Miss ery much, and other Drogramme inquisitive I and one r parlours, L' break her > pay her a diss Conny ed on the 30stly gim- wide, old ay nothing ' to see her see he did here are so e will make d hopes for liii'ley came How we I Noi'ah to his legs to he wheels," lingly very ith a slight t^ill destroy ^ handsome , smiling at is Jerusha's 5ome day he usha replies ;wo sisters a happy look ' way home- ,sh over her will surely break," murmui-s the girl. " Every step of the road, and every object around, reminds me of you, my love, my love ; oh, my dear lost friend." And sinking on the mossy bank Trixie sobs out the pent up feelings of lier heart, with only the calm blue heavens to gaze upon her. A hasty step is heard approaching, and as Trixie lifts her head, and dashes the tears from her eyes,, she beholds Shirley Hugh standing beside her. " Why, what is the matter now?" inquires the lieutenant. "This is a i)retty way to welcome a fellow, I must confess ; are you not glad to see me V " Of course ; I am glad you have come. I was having a quiet thinking spell all to my- self," Trixie says, as a wintry smile still plays on her trembling lips. As they walk, along Shirley Hugh wonders if she has begun to regret her choice, and has any foolish thoughts concerning tliat fellow in the navy. So he determinos in his mind that the sooner they are married the better, and that evening decides that matter, for tho wedding is fixed for the seventh of April — • just three weeks to come. Trixie feels as if the last drop has filled lier cup, for she has questioned her own heart I in solemn quietude, and found that it does not belong to the gallant lieutenant, but that all her affections are lavished on Shrieve Cort- land, who has thrown her over ; but if she died in the action, the girl vows, she will keep her word and marry this man, whom she is beginning to hate the very sight of, ' and loathe, with all the deep feelings of a I wild, passionate nature. CHAPTER XJI. FOR BETTER — FOR WORSE. The seventh of April dawned dark and gloomy. The rain-clouds blew across the lieavens like huge black mountains, and the wind moaned fitfully like some creature in pain. All is confusion at Willow Grove Cottage, for the house is packed with visitors. Madge has come down to act as one of the eight bridesmaids; and also her very ardent ad- mirer. Captain Fulton, who is to assist Lieu- tenant Shirley Hugh. At twelve the bridal j)arty swept into the church, and very pretty the bride looked in her white, frosted-silk dress. As Trixie walked slowly up the long aisle, leaning on 'Squire St. Clair's arm, she felt as if she would cry aloud in her anguish of mind. At the altar Shirley Hugh waited to receive his bride, with a white, nervous look on his usually calm, placid brow. The solemn service "begins, and Trixie's lips trem- ble so violently she can scarcely repeat the responses. " Those whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder." The solemn words are uttered. And putting his wife's arm in his, Shirley Hugh walks with a quick step to the vestry, where Trixie signs her maiden name for the last time ; then they pass down the church, and the smile on the groom's face is not of happiness, but deep triumph, as he assists his wife into the carriage, steps in after her and shuts the door. " Thank heaven ! we are out of that crowd," are the first wox'ds uttered by the supposed happy bridegroom as he sinks back in the coach and closes his eyes. " Why do you not say something, Trixie 1 It makes me nervous to see you, who are al- ways so merry, sitting up there like a marble statue," Lieutenant Hugh says impatiently i 80 TRIXIf:'s INHERITANCE ; as he looks at liis wife, wlio sits palo and gifts, which had been sent from fai- and near silent opi)osit(j him. j by loving friends. Colonel Sheldon and his " I thou'dit you were tired and would I wife had sent to their daughter from their rather not talk," she replies gently, for, al- j far Indian home a box fitted up most mag- though there is not a particle of affection in ! nificently with priceless jewels and costly her heart for this man whom she has sworn | Indian laces and silks. After the presents I)eforc God's altar to honor and obey, still she ; Avere dr.ly viewed and commented upon, there is going to try and bo a good wife to him, : was a carpet dance for the young people, and and prays slui may be enabled to fulfil her card and other more sober games for their promis((. elders. They do not speak again until the house is Xot until the largo number had gone to reached, then Lieutenant Hugh whispei-s in : their homes, and the house was once more his bride's ear as he lifts her from the carriage, : quiet, then Mrs. St. Clair began to relizo the " For heaven's sake, Trixie, brace up and \ utter loneliness of the place without the bright, don't look so deuced sentimental ; one would ' gay presence of her grandchild, but having a imagine to look at your face that I was some I stout heart, she bore up bravely against her terrible giant of whom you stood in hourly dread." feelings of depression, and bestowed all her love and attention on her unruly gi-andson, But not a v.'ord passed from the white lips master Bobby, who required, as nurse Norah of Trixie Hugh, as she silently passed uiistairs j expressed it, " more than a regiment to kape to change her dress for the pretty brown ' their eye on him." satin and plush travelling-suit. | Miss Conny had declined the invitation to Then the elegant, costly collation was the mari'iage, saying ?.k ovpnr^p^ that '* sister served. But the bride might have been stone ' Jerusha's health required her presence at for all the warmth or cheerfulness there was j home." about her; and no one present, to hear the: This was another trial for Trixie who bright, witty replies of the groom, could sus- deeply resented Miss Conny's refusal. But pect all the gaiety he assumed was forced. | for some reason or another that lady had her Soon the last toast has been offered and own ideas about being present at the marriage, responded to, and grandmamma had shed a numerous quantity of tear.s, and grandpapa's voice had trembled when giving his farewell blessing. The only one entirely unaffected by the parting was Master Robby, and he was in such a perfect fi*enzy of delight at everything going on, that all Nurse Norah's energies were called forth to kee[) him in order. And then the bride and groom drove off to the train, amid showers of rice and slippers ; the bells rang, and the people turned out to see the departure of their favorite, *' Miss Trixie." After the departure of the happy couple, the guests remained at Willow Grove Cottage to examine the large number of wedding and not even grandmama, St. Clair, dare question Miss Cortland when she said " No " to a thing in a certain decided manner. And as if to verify her sister's statement, Miss Jerusha was attacked about this time with an unusually bad spell of head-ache, the kind of which " no other mortal suffered with but herself," she Avas fond of saying, and it seemed to cast a gloom of depression over the house, this time more than ever before. It was not until Lieutenant Hugh and his wife had finished their four month's trip, and had settled down in their new home in the city, that Miss Conny gathered the fortitude to tell grandmama about Shrieve's promotion, and to ask if master Bobby might be forbid- OR, WHICH SHALL WIN? 31 V and near on and his from theii' most mag- and costly le presents upon, there people, and >.s for their ad gone to once more o relizo the t the bright, ut having a agiiinst her wed all her y grandson, lurso Xorah lent to kape Invitation to that '* sister presence at Trixie who efusal. But lady had her ;he niari'iage, Clair, dare B said " No " inner. And Bnient, Miss time with an , the kind of id with but nd it seemed iv the house, [ugh and his th's trip, and home in the the fortitude 's promotion, ht be forbid- den to chase the hens in the garden where they had rooted up the flowers she had planted. " Grandmama, St. Clair, expressed her joy at Shrieve's good fortune, and also promised that a severe and hasty punishment should be inflicted upon master Bobby, or the " ter- ror of the neighborhood," as he was styled, for he was the centre of all the mischief that happened, and probably it was some time after this, before he chased hens in Miss Cortland's or any other person's garden ; for grandpapa was told of the oftenco, and lie used the old maxim of " not spnring the rod to spoil the child." For days after Bobby wor(> a most solemn look, and Ijchaved really angelic, all of which nurse Norah attributed to the "dreadful chastisement, sure, that the poor youngster of a darlint had given him, tho dear." Probably this was the conclusion tho neigh- boi's came to, for there was peace for the time being at least. '-=r3MtSrT---^=-' CHAPTER XIII. NOT ALL SLNSHIXE. " So you are pleased with the arrangments, Trixie 1" Lieutenant Hugh asks, as he returns to the drawing-i-oom, after showing his wife over the handsome and elegantly furnished home which he has had prepared for their occupation. " Yes, indeed, Shirley ; no one could be otherwise than satisfied," Mrs. Hugh returns, as she goes over to the long lace draped window and pushing aside the heavy drapery gazes upon the busy throng outside." " Fine view from those windows," the master of the house goes on with a contented glance around. " Yes, magnificent," his wife answered, without removing her eyes from the street below. " Well, why in the name of all the saints do you not sit down, and not stand there, as if I was a stick or a stone, to whom it was not worth your v.'hile replying to or taking any notice of 1 " Lieutenant Hugh says, his tone showing signs of rising anger. "Excuse me, Shirley, shall I play you something?" replies Trixie, as she moves past him and goes to the elegant Chickering piano, and sitting down, runs her lightly over the smooth ivory keys. lingers Throwing himself impatiently into a loung- ing chair the lieutenant says, sharply : " Sing something ; I never yet saw the sense in people donging on a piano without letting the people know what you are driving at." So dashing into a brilliant little waltz song Trixie does her best, and sirms with a seemincr light, gay heart. At the conclucion Shirley Hugh, rising from his seat, says more gra- ciously : " Now that is something like. You have a first-class voice, Trixie, and if you practice up, I shall not be afraid to have you sing before any one," saying which he threw his arm about his wife's waist and kisses her lightly on the cheek. " Now, I must be off to meet a friend of mine at the club, and if you wish to do so you may order the horses and go for a drive." "But, Shirley," she replies, as she shrinks away from his caressing arm, "I would rather you would come with me. It would look strange for me to go out alone, right after our coming home," and the girl toys with the beautiful diamond rings on her fingers, and tries not to notice the dark frown on her husband's face. A, il \r7 32 'ntlXIK's I\HE11ITAX(JE ; 1 1 "Why not call urouiul for your bosom friend, Miss Vandorhson ; slu; is not such a 'terror' as y»ur husband is," li(! replies, inockin;;jly. " JUit just for till! sake of what [leoplo will say, do conic ; won't you, Shirley, ploas(!?" Trixie iiii)>lorin;L,'ly asks her husband. " Bother take what people will say. I told you before I have an engagement which I can't bniak," Shirley answers. '* Very well ; if a stranger has more claim on your attention than your wife, you liad Itetter go," she r(!\)lies, and gathering up her .sweei)ing train of white mull Mrs. Hugh loaves the room and proceeds to lier own apartments with a swelling heart, full of con- tempt for the mean-spirited man whom she is bound to love and lionor and obey. Heating herself near the ojjen window, she gazes with clasped hands into the deep blue sky. " Oh, merciful heaven I liolp me to endure with patience the path I have marked out for myself. It is, I know, a just punishment for going wilfully against the dictates of my heart. Oh, Shrieve, Shrieve, why do I, the wife of another, still keep on loving you the way I do ? Oh, my darling, can I ever get your image erased from my memory — can I ever forget you T And there all alone the girl sobbed out her grief and love. " But for all her misery the world was none the more changed — for the sun shone just as brightly, and the song-birds in their cages gave vent to their sweet, happy songs ; and the world moved on as serenely as if hearts, were not breaking, and sorrow and misery were unknown. In the midst of her tears the maid comes to say, " Miss Vanderleon is waiting to see Mrs. Hu<^h." Trixie bathes her swollen eyes and goes down to find Madge, arrayed in a charming French costume, pacing the draw- ing-room impatiently. " Oh, Trixie, my darling, how glad I am to see you onco more ; but what is wrong — are you ill T And drawing her friend down on I the lounge by her side, Madge scans the white, ] sorrowful face with the dark lines under her ' eyes, which not oven tlu^ njady smiles of I welcome can (piito dispel. ! *' No, dear ; only I am so dragged out travelling fi'om plact; to place. We have been I very gay, and, as you know, I am not used to I very much dissipation, but with a few days I rest I shall be rll right again." j "And Lieutenant Hugh, where is he?" I ]\Iadge asks, somewhat shari)ly, for Trixic's j face is not that of a happy bride;, and Madge \ determines to sift matters thoroughly. I "Oh, I did not feel well enough to go out, and he went alone," Trixie replies, vainly trying to cover her husband's ni^glect as best she can. "Well, you are to get your bonnet on and come for a drive with your own little Madge j the Victoria is at the door, and I suppose Larry will give me a long lecture for keeping him Avaiting. Yes, Larry drove mo over, and said he would be pleased to drive \is both out." " Ah, Madge, and so you arc engaged to Captain Fulton. I wish you every happiness, dear," and Mrs. Hugh bestowed a trembling kiss on her visitor's lips." " Yes," Madge says with a bright blush, " Larry says we are just suited for each other, but hurry now and we will go." 80 Trixie goes upstairs with a lighter heart, i presently she comes down, and soon they are bowling over the smooth street. Gradually the expression of sorrow leaves Trixie's face, and she is replying gaily to Captain Fulton's j funny remarks. But Madge notices, with a bitter pain at her heart, the absence of Trixie's old, merry, light-hearted, cai'eless laugh, and Miss Van- derleon wondera if Trixie's marriage has been a mistake, and if she would have had that wistful look about her eyes if, instead of Shirley Hugh, she had wed Shrieve Cortland, her sailor lover. di on, WHICH SHALL WIN ? s:j wrong — aiv, ul down on 3 the white, s undor her ■^ smiles of ragged out 'e have been not used to ii few days icro is he"?" for Trixie's and Madge ^hly. ,0 go out, and ainly trying best she can. )nnet on and ittle Madge ; id I suppose e for keeping mo over, and us both out." 3 engaged to 'ry liappiness, I a trembling bright bhish, or each other, , lighter heart, soon they are t. Gradually Trixie's face, ptain Fulton's litter pain at e's old, merry, ,nd Miss Van- riage has been have had that f, instead of ieve Cortland, i Many admiring eyes followed the dainty Victoria and Captain Fulton's handsome bay horses. Shirley Hugh, crossing the street with his graceful, swinging gait, paused to look at the carriages which contained his wife, his brow darkens and he mutters as he pro- ceeds onwards : "Ifer own carriage and horses are not enough, but she nnist go and be dependent on strangers. Ah, my fair lady, you arc soon beginning to go your own sweet way. How- ever, T will talk to you about it at dinner time." Then he went into the club and played billiards until six o'clock, his hour of dinner, after which he started for houu; in no very amiable frame of mind, liaTing lost heavily at the gaming table. Such was the man who had bcou the choice of the pure-hearted village! maiden — Trixio Sln^ldon. I A wise man once said, ** Marriages are but I lotteries : some draw prizes and oftener ; blanks." ! Verilv such seems to be the case. CHAPTER XIV. TllK RKOOGNITION. " Buela, Avhere is your mistress ]" Shirley ' called on me ; and Captain Fulton, she; and I Hugh asks cf the pretty maid who is going have had such a delightful drive. I was (juite up to Mrs. Hugh's room on an errand. j sorry when we had to come in," luiswered " She has just returned from driving a few ' Trixie, as she looks smilingly, unabashed at moments ago and is dressing for diimer, sir," j the dark, stern faco, of her husband. answers the maid, respectfully. " Well, for the futiire, you take my advice " W(!ll, say I am in a hurry and wish to ; and go out in your own carriage, and be in- see her as soon as she can come." ! dependent of any and every one. If you had " Very well, sir ;" and having received her j no horses in the stables there would, no orders slie goes on upstairs. i doubt, be a big time," Shirley says in a stern Humming a tune of the latest opera, ' tone of \oice. Shirley Hugh strides into the music-room to "I think I have the liberty of going to await the appearance of his wife. He was drive with any of my friends I chose to," not long alone, for soon a rustling was heard Trixie replies, haughtily. through the hall and Trixie entered looking very bright and pretty in her dress of grey and cardinal satin and garnet jewelry. "Were you in a hurry for dinner, Shirley?" she inquires. " Well, I say you shall not ! " thundered the lieutenant. And Trixie, finding him getting into such a towering passion, says : " Very well, shall we have dinner]" "Yes, and we are invited out to-night — A " Yes," her husband answers, as he turns ; are we not 1 " Shirley Hugh asks in a more -from the window, and coolly surveys the I amiable tone;, as he takes his seat at the pretty figure before him. | dinner table. " How well you look to-night. Apparently ! " Yes, I believe we are ; do you feel equal your drive improved you. How was it you ; to the exertion of going]" Trixie asks, did not order your own carriage ? " inquinis ; sarcastically. Sliirley Hugh. I " Oh certainly, my love ; I am charmed to " Well, you see, Madgf drove around and take my beautiful-tempered wife around C 34 TRIXIK's INHEHITANCE ; ftinong my friends." And Lieutenant Hugh Bpoko tlio truth, for lio was in reality very proud of Iiis wife and her charming manner. For lie loved licr as niucli as his sclllsli dispo- sition would j)ermit of his earing for any one. At nine o'clock that evening Shirley Hugh might well bo pleased with his choice, for as lie entenxl the hrillia.it, over-crowded recep- tion rooms at Lady F 's, with his wife on liis arm, Trixic^ was certainly the fairest woman in the large assend)ly. A trained dress of a creamy pink thit, fes- tooned with rich lac(! and roses, with dia- monds and rubies set in dead gold, in lier ears, on her throat and arms — Mrs. Hugh was indeed a fair vision to gazo upon ; and no person was better aware of the fact than the man at her side, who to judge from out- ward appearances, was one of the most loving and devoted of husbands. Madge Vanderleon and lier mother were also pi'esent, and, as a matter of course. Cap- tain Fulton was there to dance attendance upon his lady love. Madge was looking perfectly angelic in her pale blue silk, tulle and lace, with flowers and strings of delicate pearls, wound about her white throat and round, plump arms. Poor Larry was awfully smitten and generally broken up. During tlie evening Mrs. Hugh was re- quested to sing, and, without waiting to be coaxed (as now seems fashionable), Trixie consented, her husband stood beside the piano to turn the music. The piece she had chosen was one she had sang in the old days long before when gay New York, Shirley Hugh or any of the lively throng around had been things undreamed of. Times unnumbered she had played and sung it while Shrieve, "fired away," as he used to say, on the violin ; and every word as she sang brought back vividly those happy, careless days at Willow Grove Cottage, with her boy-lover at her side — ■ | " Tliy voice is near ine in my dronms, In accents sweet and low, Telling of liapi)inc8S and love In days long, long ago. ^N'ord after word I think I hear, Y'ot strange it seems to me, That tho' I listen to thy voice, Tliy face I never see. Tliy fac'o I never see, thy face I never see, And tho' I listen to thy voice, thy face I never see. " From night to night my weary heart Lives on tho treasured past, And every day, I fondly Su,y, ' He'll como to me at last.' liut still I weep, I watch and pray, As time moves slowly on ; And yet I have no hope but Thee— - The first, the dearest one ; The first the dearest one ; the first the dearest one, And yet I have no hope but thee — the first, the dearest one." A slight tremor was noticed in tho fair singer's voice as she sang the concluding bars. But they did not know the tempest which raged in the lieai't of the woman, or that tho heart beneath the rich satin dress was nigh to breaking. Having finished her song Ti'ixie rose, and as she swept from the piano, amid loud mur- murs of applause, her eyes became riveted upon the door leading to the conservatory— the next instant the gentleman, who had been standing thei'e lefc his post of observation and, crossing the drawing-room, was soon clasping the hand of Mrs. Hugh in both his own. " Trixie, my darling ! is it indeed you 1 " he whispered. Trixie, for the instant, forgot everything and answered : " Oh, Shrieve ! it is not true what they told me, and you have come back to me." As Shrieve does not answer she follows his gaze, and meets the stern, angry look of Shir- ley Hugh fixed upon her. Going to his side Trixie looks up in her husband's face, and says, "Shirley, here is your friend, Mr. Cortland ; why do you not come and speak to him 1 " But without taking any further notice of dc OR, WHICH SHALL AVIX ? 35 kins, cr see, ace I never see. heart ray. ee- the dearest one, -the first, the d in the fair ncluding bars. ;empest which an, or that the dress was nigh 'rixie rose, and raid loud mur- )ecame riveted conservatory — 1 who had been )f observation, om, was soon gh in both his indeed you ? " got everything rue what they ack to me." • she follows his ry look of Shir- looks up in her Shirley, here is hy do you not irther notice of his wife's words ho turned abruptly on his nid a rthnn of water, please," and Hhrievo heel and lei't the room. " Is that vonr husband. Trixie wliv (iid hun iedly disajipeius. Jh; has sciuccly gone when Shirley Hugh you not introduce me?" Shrievc^ asked, cliok- enters, and Trixie knows, by the expression iiig down the agony ho was afraid his voice I of his lace — half guilt, half detlanco — that ho Avould betray. is aware she has been told of the deception "Introduce you?" Trixio says, in surprise, j he has practiced ujion her; and she can with " Surcily you and my husband are very well j dilnculty bring herself to look at him in a acquainted; you know you informed hiin of friendly liglit. that v(U'y interesting event you were contcMsi- jtlating. ].ly the wn^', where is the lady ? " and Mrs. Hugh laughs lightly as she strives to maintain her composure. " Como ! it is tiino we were going. You have been loitering around with that fellow quite long enough. You never can iind any- thing to talk to nu) about, but can juml)le off "As true as heaven is my witness I have any amount of trash in other people's ears," never laid eyes on tlie man l)efore to-night ; 81iirl(!y llngh excluinis, looking scornfully at and wliat you mean by 'the interesting event' i the pretty Hushed face of his wife, and * the lady' I cannot comi)rehend. There! "There is no hurry to leave, is there!" is but one 'lady' for mo in all the world — ! Trixie speaks the words (juictly, but her feel- but she forgot me, and, perhaps, 1 was not ' ings are very much ruffled. " I say you are to go home with mo now ! and you shall — do you understand?" The words were spoken so loudly that Trixie, fearing some one would hear the displeasetl tones, arose, and stepping past hin», said : "Very well — I am read v." A few moments later, when Shtievo re- turned with the glass of water, he tinds Mrs. worthy of her," Shrieve answered bicterly. They had sauntered into a dainty little ante-room, and as Mr. Cortland ceases speak- ing Trixie sinks into a chair and presses her hand suddeidy to her side. " Are you ill ! what will I get for you ? " Shrieve demands, as he looks with .".larm into the white fixed face of his companion. "A slight pain — that is all; you might get Hugh gone. CHAPTER XV. THE aOVERNESS. "And you can give me no references what- ever ? Well, I never engaged any one with- out them before; but you seem to suit so well, and I am in such sore need of a gover- faess just now that — well, I think I will try you." " Oh, madam, I can never thank you enough, and I will try my best to please, and do my duty faithfully." Mrs. ALStor looked compassionately down upon the girl beside her, and wondered if the three unruly little ones would learn to con- duct themselves properly under the training of this girl, who, in her black dress of mourn- ing, looks little more than a child herself. "You are in nimu-ning for some friend who has lately passed to rest ? " the lady inquires gently. " My dear father, madam," the girl replies, with a sob she cannot keep back. " Poor child, poor lamb, left to the cruel world's care when so young ; and your name is Pauline Fairville, I think you said 1" "Yes, Pauline Fairville — my father is Mtam 3G TRIXIE's INHERITANX'E ; i :' dead, and my sister uiid I are alone in the . world." " Oh, you have a siister then ; how (;ld is she?" " She is almost five years old, nuulani," the girl replies. "And the child must, of course, come with you. AV'ell, you may both come to-morrow, for I like your faco, and feel sure I can trust my children to your car(\" And pressing lier hand warmly Mrs, Astor bids her visitor good-bye." '* I do not think I shall repent taking her, poor girl. If any of my children were left to theuise''-'js, as those two young creatures are, 1 should wish people to be kind to them," says this generous-hearted woman, going up stairs to dres& for dinner, feeling she Iiad made lighter the path of a fellow creature. The following day the new governess ar- rived, accompanied by a modest trunk, and a small tot of a girl, with golden curls and eyes of heaven's own blue. Mrs. Astor greeted Miss Fairville warnily, and bestowed a motherly kiss upon the child • — Winny ; and the little one, encouraged by the sweet, winning smile, on the lady's face, threw her small arms around Mrs. Astor's neck and kissed her. This won the first vic- tory for Miss Winnifred. The three pu|)ils were next introduced, and Pauline, as she kissed each girl tenderly, won their hearts by her gentle manner — Laura, Mellow and Georgie declaring their new teacher to be a i)er£ect love ; and as for Winny, evcuy one in the Astor Jiouseliold were her willing slaves. "A very pretty governess you have for the cliildi-en, Gertie. How long has .slie been here 1 Not long, 1 wager, for the actions of your three treasures never allowed any one to stay longer than a couple of months— but this one looks as if she had pluck enough even for them." The brother and sister are seated in the pailoi-, from which place can be heard the {liano in the music room, where Miss Fairville is busy teaching Georgie Astor her lessons. And the even manner the " scales " wcnt^ performed sliowed that the young pupil of ten years had been drilled by a skilful instructor. " She is very handsome, poor little thing ; an orphan, with no friends. She has b(X'u here almost two years now, but your being absent from home so much made you ignorant of the treasure we have found." "By Jove ! what a voice, hark !" and Ross Fulton lifts his linger and assumes a listeninjr attitude. Probably the practising lesson was finished and the teacher had, at the request of Georgie, sang this dear old time-woru Spanish ballad, "Juniata." It must have, been a favorite with both teacher and pupil, for no less than three distinct times was it sang. "Ai'e you smitten by a voice, Ross?" his sister inquires gaily. " It would be strange indeed if our poor little governess would accomplish the feat of arousing the affections of a young gentleman whom all the young belles have tried in vain to please." " Well, I cannot help it Gertie, I never heard a voice like it. She could com])ete without a blush with Patti or Xeilson." " Pretty hard hit," Mrs. Astor says with a grim smile. " But how is Larry's foot pro- gressing — has the swelling gone down any 1 " " No, the doctor says it is worse than hti at first expected, and it may be weeks before he can walk on it, and Madge is almost beside herself with anxiety. I think she is as fond of the boy as he is of her." And Ross settles himself again comfortably in his chair. " Yes, Madge is a sweet girl, and if Lar)y and she marry I am sure they will be hapi)y." " I see Cortland's ve.ssel has returned and he is looking finely ; I bet he will mark out. a great life for himself, following the footsteps of his father who was something pretty high in the navy." .^H OR, WHICH SHALL WIN? 37 heard the iss Fairville her lessons. cales" Avero. ; pupil of ten il instructor. little thing ; he has hocn t your being you ignorant !" and Ross les a listening ng lesson was the request Id time-woru t must havti er and puinl, es was it sang, p, Rossr' his 1 if our poor sli the feat of ng gentleman ! tried in vain ertie, I no\(n' 30uld compete S^eilsou." or says with a i-ry's foot pro- e down any 1 " vorse than hti i weeks before s almost besid« she is as fond xd Ross settles H chair. , and if Larry /ill be happy." returned and will mark out. g the footsteps ig pretty higli "Yes, and I heard something about an With glad cry the child gets down and attachment between Lieutenant Hugh's wife puts up her rosy lips for the gentleman to and this Mr. Cortland ; did you hear of it? " kiss ; tlien she ran to her sister. "Deuced pretty woman that wife of Hugh's, i Ross gazed with deep admiration after the too good for the fellow it is my belief. They \ tall figure, as she left the room, with a grace- say he treats her badly, but then a person ' ful bend of her stately head, with the child should not take in all they hear now-a-days. Some people are always trying to bake their cake in other and everybody's oven." And Ross curls his lip and looks sarcastic. *' Mrs. Hugh is a great friend of Madge's, I know she thinks everything of her." " Ah Winny, my darling. What is the mat- ter love?" " Ross Fulton turns his eyes toward the door and beholds a child, who is certainly not one of his nieces, with her mouth puckered up ready to cry, with a small grey kitten clasped tightly in her arms. " Miss Fairville's sister," Mrs. Astor ex- plains. "Who has been abusing you dear?" she askc, as the child comes in and lays her tear- stained face, and the cat, on Mrs. Aster's lap. " My poor pussy " — sobs the ba''>y voice — "hurt her paw," and Mrs. Astor sees the eat's leg is cut. Ross comes to the rescue, and in less time than it takes to tell, Winnifred's tears are dried, and she is smiling graciously upon Ross as he deftly binds up the feline's injured limb. After this painful operation is completed she willingly agreed to sit upon Mr. Fulton's knee, and edified him with an account of her playmates, her doll, toys, and in fact, did her utmost to amuse him Until a tall, handsome girl, with Hashing dark eyes and jet black hair, with a dress of plain black fitting to ]»erfection her exquisite figure, calls gently from the door : " Come, Winny. I am afraid she has been bothering you, Mrs. Astor 1 " by the hand. " Why did you not introduce me ] " Ross demands, impetuously. "Why, my brother, I never knew but what you had met Miss Fairville before. If I had but thought. But wait : I will call her back." But there was no need to take this trouble, for Pauline had forgotten tlie roll of music she laid on the table when she came for her sister, and at this moment she came back for it. " Pauline, my love ;" for it had come to this that Mrs. Astor was fairly charmed with this girl and treated her as one of her own. " Let me make you acquainted with my brother — Mr. Ross Fulton, Miss Fairville." As Ross clasped the hand of his sister's govei-ness in his, he knew that his fate was sealed. As for Pauline, she very quietly ac- knowledged the introduction, and, taking the music from the table, left the room. " Is she not sweet?" Mrs. Astor asks with enthusiasm, "and the children progress so finely under her tuition. I cannot think what would become of them, were she ever obliged to leave us." Ross Fulton thinks ten times more of his little sister Gertie Astor than ever, for her brave defence and kindness to the strange girl. " It is not every one would take a stranger and make of her, but it is just like Gertie — one of the best natured souls in the world." Thus i)ondering, Ross takes his hat from the ruck in the hall and departs homeward. i t . ',f 38 trixie's inheritance ; CHxVPTER XVI. THE STORM. "And all the dear ones at home, Trixie, how are they 1 " 8hrieve Cortland is leaning his arm on the niantle in IMrs. Hugh's draw- ing room, and as he speaks his eyes rest upon the pale, fair face of his child-love, who looks more like marble in her dress of black satin and Spanish lace. " I intended to run down and see them," he continued. "But I cannot bring myself to go now, after what has hap- pened." Shrieve sighs, but there is no ti-ace of reproach in his tone. " I had a long letter from Grandmama ves- terday. 8he said they were all well, and hoped you would come home as soon as the vessel arrived," Trixie replies, as she leans her head wearily against the back of the green plush chair. It had been two years since Mrs. Hugh had met Shrieve Cortland, on the memorable night of the ball, when Trixie had learned through what deception Lieutenant Shirley Hugh had married his w'fe. Yes, two years in finding out the state of a mistaken fancy. Now Mr. Cortland has again returned ; learned the address of Lieutenant Shirley Hugh, and has called upon his friend and playmate, to find her cold and formal in her manner toward him — for she has vowed be- fore God to honor and obey Shirley Hugh ; and if her heart breaks, she will keep that vow faithfully. " You should not disappoint your aunts, they who are fretting at your tardiness every hour that passes," Trixie says after a pause. " Yes, there are a great many things I should do that I don't, and I suppose that is one of them." And Shrieve's eyes wauiler to the opposite wall and rest on the life size poi'- trait of Trixie,which Lieutenant Hugh ordered to be painted during their visit to Italy, and he notice th a start the changed look of the pale, set face before him and the rosy cheeked, bright-eyed girl in the picture. And the girl as she sits there, seemingly so cold and indifferent, is almost breaking her heart as she thinks of what might have been and what is. But we all make such mistakes now and then." " I suppose you have heard our new star 1" Trixie asks, as she strives feverishly to keep the conversation from refering to personal to})ics. " No, I have been so busy lately, I have been nowhere but sevei'al recei)tions I have been almost dragged to." " We intend going to-night, if you Avould care to see her, we have a seat in our box." "Thanks," Shi'ieve says; for although lie cares little to see this famous actress, still he will be near Mrs. Hugh, and to be in her company is sufficient bliss. Then Madge Vanderleon is announced and Shrieve after a few moments bids the ladies good afternoon. " What a splendid fellow your friend is, Trixie dear," Madge says warmly. " Yes, he is liked by most everyone, I think. But how is it Madge you are hei'e to-day V " Oh, Larry's foot is much better, and so I only stopped a little while, and then ran around to see you ; and Larry has amused me so very much. His brother Ross has fallen dead in love with the governess of his sister's children. Larry says she is awfully nice look- ing. An orphan with no friends — her little sister is with her, a 'golden haired angel,' Ross says ; and altogether poor Ross is very much 'broken up.' Madge laughs lightly, for she is very happy herself and wishes every one else to be so to." " Poor thing," Trixie says pityingly, " it is a ingly, "it is OR, WHICH SHALL WIN ? 39 3d look of the rosy ture. emingly so eaking her have been 3h mistakes new star V ily to keep to personal ;ely, I have ions I have you would u our box." although he ess, still he be in lier iiounced and s the ladies i,| ir friend is, one, T think. 3re to-day V ;er, and so I d then ran 3 amused me is has fallen if his sister's Ily nice look- s — her little lired angel,' Ross is very ghs lightly, and wishes ;l sad to be friendless, it is worse I think than actual poverty where a family is all one happy circle. See how happy they can be in each other's love and sympathy, even though they may not be able to tell where their next meal is to come from. But you will remain and go with us to the opera?" And Madge smilingly consents. Dinner is kept waiting until seven — one hour pas', the usual time — for the master of the house. And at seven when he does not come Trixie and her visitor take their's alone. " Lunching with some of his friends, I ex- pect," Trixie says by way of explanation for her husband's absence. Madge sighs and wonders ii this occurs every day, and Miss Vanderleon forms wishes for the absent Lieutenant that are certainly not blessings. Then at eight when Shrieve Cortland -appears in irreproachable evening dress, he finds Mrs. Hugh and Madge playing duets in the drawing room. " Practising," Trixie explains, " for a soci- able they are to play at." So, as Shirley Hugh has not yet come home, Trixie orders the carriage and the three attend a new opera which is being well re- ceived nightly by crowded houses. After this evening it gradually came to be a common occurrence for Mr. Cortland to accompany Mrs. Hugh — when her husband was not at hand — to concerts, operas, theatres, bazaars and sociables ; then affairs suddenly came to a climax. One afternoon there had been a large num- ber of callers at Trixie's home — as it was her reception afternoon. The rooms were almost empty when Shrieve Cortland strolled in, so Trixie bid her last guest good-bye and was turning to make some trivial remark to her late caller, Shrieve, when the curtain drapery was suddenly pushed back from the folding doors, and Shirley Hugh strode in. "Ah, you are here again, young man; things have come to a pretty pass, when it is the common rei)ort in everyone's mouth, that my wife is neglected by me and that she depends upon Mr. Cortland for her escort in public. But it will be so no longer. No, by heaven ! I shan't allow it." And Shirley Hugh brings his hand down heavily on the back of the chair against which he is leaning. " There is no need for you to speak in that manner. Lieutenant Hugh," Shrieve says calmly ; " I merely accompany Mrs. Hugh for old friendship's sake, and I see no reason why you should object." "Well, I say — and what I say I mean — ■ that my wife shall not be danced attendance upon by you, or any other fellow. You had better get a wife of your own, if you are so fond of toting around after the women,' laughs Shirley Hugh, scornfully, as he looks exultingly at Shrieve, who despite his efforts to maintain his composure, has turned a shade pale, his lips tighten, and the easy smile has given place to a look of determina- tion. " If you were any one else but who you are. Lieutenant Hugh, I should not allow these words of yours to be passed over ; and I do not think any gentleman would speak as you have in the presence of a lady, let alone his wife." " You good-for-nothing young prig- -you dare to tell me to my face that I am ' no gen- tleman,' and 'my words not to be passed over.' Do you think or mean to challenge me to a duel 1 " and Shirley Hugh trembled so with passion that he could with difficulty speak distinctly. Shrieve Cortland's voice was very calm as slowly and distinctly he replies without a tremor : "Yes, Lieutenant Hugh, you understand me correctly." " Oh ! Shirley ! pray do not talk so reck- lessly ; do you not know either one or the other, must lose his life," cries Trixie, laying \^ 40 trixie's inheritance ; r her hand pleadingly on her husband's arm, Ijut he shakes her oft', replying fiercely : " Hold your tongue 1 What do you know about my business?" Then turning to Shrieve he says, with an oath : " Leave my house, and never darken the 1 door again so long as you live; and a day or so will decide how long that will be ! " As Shrieve goes fi )m the room he sees Trixie throw herself on a couch Avith a sharp cry, and .Shirley Hugh standing by the table in the centre of the room, his arm uplifted, as he waves Shrieve Cortland from the room — and Shrieve remembers the black look of anger on the lieutenant's face ; for that was the last time Mr. Cortland ever spoke to or saw Shirley Hugh alive. But scarcely an hour had passed after this scene when the household were thrown into a violent confusion. Shirley Hugh, who had been seemingly so well and strong but a few hours before, was suddenly seized with par- alysis, and for several hours his life was despaired of. He had been looking out of the window at the crowds passing on the street, when suddenly he threw up his arms and fell to the floor. His wife hastened to his side, but he could not speak to her. He was immediately taken to bed and physicians sent for. This would 1)0 the result of a "sudden fright and intense excitement," the doctor told Mrs. Hugh. Days and Aveeks passed and there Avas no change visible. Shrieve Cortland's ship had again been ordered abroad, and he had gone Avithout seeing Trixie again ; and she often thought, during the tedious Aveeks and months of her liusband's illness, that it avus the hand of a merciful Providence Avho had thus prevented the intended duel from being fought. During his sickness Shirley Hugh had be- come very humble and gentle. He appeared very much more affectionate to his Avife, and kinder to those around him Trixie, Avho during the first part of his ill- ness, was nearly distracted Avith his irritating demands, Avondered at the change, and did all in her poAver to be all an affectiour^e fond Avife should be. Eoss Fulton had painted Pauline and Win- nifred's picture, and it excited much admira- tion from his friends. When Shirley Hugh Avas a little better, Ross Avent to see him one day, and by A\ay of amusement showed him the pictured faces of Pauline and Winnifred. "Who is if? Who is it?" he cried excit- edly, raising himself up, and clutching Ross by the arm. " Why, Shirley, old man, Avhat ails you 1 " But ere he could reply Shirley Hugh had fainted, and for eight Aveeks afterwards he Avas speechless. "Queer," Ross thought, "that he should be so afiected ovei a picture, though it is such an uncommonly fine one. I believe Shir- ley Hugh has some mystery connected with bi-^ past life ; perhaps the faces recalled some past memory." Ross little kneAv how near the truth he was. After eight Aveeks Shirley's speech came back ; then he had a talk Avith the doctoi". "And 1 can never get better?" Lieutenant Hugh says, as he lies bolstered up in bed, looking like the shadoAV of the strong man of a year ago. " No, sir," the physiciaix answers, gently. " I can give you no hope — can do nothing for you more than Avhat I have. But if you keep quiet, and do not bother your brain over anything, it is impossible to state hoAV long you may be among us." The Avords, though spoken with an air of cheerfulness, did not blind his patient as to the true state of affairs ; and after he left Shirley Hugh sent for his Avife to come to him. s wife, and t of his ill- s irritatinir and did all our>e fond e and Win- ch admira- ble better, by ^\ay of 'ed faces of :ried excit- ;hing Ross ails youl" Hugh had rwards he he should ougli it is ^lieve Shir- ected with :alled some how near oech came doctor. Lieutenant ip in bed, ng man of •s, gently, lothing for Jut if you our brain state how an air of ient as to iv he left > come to OR, WHICH SHALL WIN ? 41 •'Are you better, Shirley 1" Trixie's voice is low and gentle as she stands beside the bed and gazes on the frail, colorless face of the man whose days are almost numbered. " Yes, little wife, as well as I shall ever be in this life ; as for the life to come, I leave that to some one higher." Trixie feels stai-tled, for up to now the lieutenant had stoutly maintained that he would do "this," "that" and "the other," when he " got around again." Now he speaks so calmly of the fast approaching end that for a moment a mist seemed to prevent her seeing the objects around her. "Trixie," Shirley Hugh's voice trembles, and he looks entreatingly into hia^ wife's face, "could you forgive some one who had done you a great harm — yes, a very deep wrong — • if that person were dying and your words of forgiveness would quiet his last moments on earth, would you utter those words. Would your' " Heaven forbid I should refuse to do so," Trixie murmurs very solemnly. " Ah little wife, Uod grant the other whom i I wronged may be as merciful in her forgive- ' ness. The sick man paused for a moment, then went on. When I was in India my uncle was ap- pointed guardian over two orphan girls, who j were left friendless in a strange country. They wei'e very wealthy, those girls, and to get the eldest to marry his scapegrace nephew was the sole desire of my uncle's heart ; and to accomplish this end he left no means untried. The nephew proposed and was sternly refused by the girl, who pleaded the youth of her sister as a reason of her rejection, that she could not marry until her sister was some years older. This so enraged the nephew that he at once took steps to remove the little one from her sister's care. He arranged plans which would have been successful had not his aunt interfered. She sent the girls away by night in charge of a faithful servant. The same night the nephew met the aunt return- ing from the shore, where she had gone to see if the girls had got off safely ; he demanded that she should tell him where they were gone. She refused ; he drew his pistol and was about to fire when a hand dashed the weapon aside, and it went off without doing harm. Then in the darkness the nephew escaped, but the next day a warrant was issued for his arrest on the charge of attempt- ed murder. The uncle gave him enough money to leave the country, and he escaped to New York. He had been there only a short time when intelligence was received of the loss of the " Argila," the steamer that the orphan girls wei*e in. The uncle took so much out of the fortune belonging to his charges and sent the lawyers just half of the immense wealth he had been making use of. The nephew was thus made rich for life, for his uncle had seen that he was to be well pro- vided for. But now he must have revenge on the mjin who had been the witness of the attempted murder of his aunt ; and in New York he met, wooed, and married that man's daughter, and then led her a most miserable life, of which he is ashamed now. Then one day this nephew was looking from the win- dow in his home and saw passiiig on the street below the two he thought buried for- ever in the deep sea — the two orphans he had wronged. He was seized by a sudden illness, and when able to have visitors to see him, a friend showed him the pictured faces of the same two. Then I lied to you about Shrieve Cortland ; I had never seen him, but in order to win you myself, I insinuated his intended marriage with another. " Oh ! Trixie, my dear, can you forgive me for all the misery you have suffered T Will Pauline ^ .xp Rieo forgive me for all the misery I madt her suffer 1 Is there, do you think, any pardon for me in Hoaven or on earth?" Shirley Hugh is very excited, and though i : i i 42 TIUXIE'S INHI ftlTANCE ; \i the snowy coverlid, so spotless, is no whiter than the face of Mrs. Hngli, still she exerts herself to control her feelings for not during his illness has her husband talked so much, and she is afraid now of the consequence of his agitation, " You should pray to be forgiven, Shirley, and try to undo the wrongs you have done. As for myself, I forgive you all, and pray Heaven may do the same." Trixie is really shoc^;>^ .'J^<. knew her husband to be of a wild, uM'-f^,' r 1 temper, and of cruel nature, ,\nd thao he i.a'l r'eceiv- ed her from the f .it, — '• i': a defra,. ' . a would-be murderer, nud n i^cou: V^V i, Heaven! what had she ever done to i.i^ri. such punidhment 1 " " And so Mrs. Astor's governess is the proper heiress of all the wealth I am enjoying while she is slaving out her life for her daily bread?" Trixie asks faintly. "Yes, he)' father willed the property to you on his daughter's death ; but as you and Heaven are my witness, I never knew them to be alive. I understood they perished on the ill-fated steamer *'Argila." But hasten and send for Pauline Dup Rieo; I must ask her forgiveness before I die I " Trixie sent not only for Miss Pauline Fair- ville Dup Rieo, h\ t for the clergyman also — for it was plain to all that Lieutenant Hugh could not last out the night. At eight in the evening the large, hand- some chamber, where the sick lieutenant lies breathing his last moments is silent, save for the quiet ticking of the marble clock, and the heavy breathing of the dying man. Mrs. Hugh knelt by the bedside holding one thin, frail hand in hers. The doctors stood at the foot of the bed watching anxiously, while Pauline Dup Rieo stands straight, cold and silent, looking with undisguised loathing on the face of the man pleading so earnestly for one last word or forgi\ eness from her lips. " Miss Fairville, you will surely not refuse to say the word to quiet him 1 " one of the doctors says, imploringly, as he looks with pity and admiration into the face of the girl, standing calm and haughty, looking so much like an avenging angel. " Forgive ! " The dying man opens his eyes and looks beseechingly up in her face, "You talk of forgiveness, when you have done so much wrong to me and mine ! " she returns, fiercely. " If you do not forgive, your heavenly father will not forgive you your sins," the clergyman says quietly. He has often, dur- ing his ministry, attended the death-bed of the dying, but as he looks from the face of .' -i man, lying so white and ghastly, and then at the girl standing near, he prays he may never be called upon to witness such another scene. " Pauline, forgive ! I cannot die until you do ! " And Shirley Hugh, with a supi'eme effort, lifts himself up and looks at those around him. Then he says, quickly : " Trixie — sing ! sing ! " And soon the clear voice of his wife is raised in a softly musical strain : — When the dark waves round us roll. And we look in vain for aid, .Speak, Lord, to the trembling soul — " It is I ; be not afraid. When we feel the end is near, Passing into death's dark shade, May the voice be strong and clear, " It is I ; be not afraid. When in sickness lying, Dark with fear of dying, Blessed Jesus, hear us, Let thy help be^near us. When life, slowly waning. Shows but Heaven remaining, Blessed Jesus, hear us. Light of all, be near us. The invalid's face assumes a calmer expres- sion, as the soothing words fall on his ear, and when Trixie had finished Pauline steps quickly to the bedside and laying her hand on the head of Shirley Hugh, says gently : OR, WHICH SHALL WIN? 43 one of the looks with of the girl, ng so much opens his n her face, you have nine!" she heavenly sins," the often, dur- !aih-becl of the face of lastly, and e prays he tness such e until you a supreme s at those his wife is all, er expres- n his ear, line steps her hand jently : " Yes, Shirley Hugh — I forgive you for Jesus' sake," said Pauline, as she lowered her head reverently and knelt with the others. With the words "Thank God!" and an upward look and smile into his wife's face, Shirley Hugh passed without a struggle to his long rest. CHAPTER XVII. FRIENDS FROM INDIA. " What shall I say to him, Pauline ; poor fellow, he seems to be in a terrible plight 1 " " Say I have a severe headache, and when I am better I will see him." Pauline Fairville Dup Rieo has resigned her situation as governess to the Astor fam- ily, much to their gi'ief and disappointment, more especially to Ross Fulton; for of course i ; it would never do to allow the heiress, Miss Dup Rieo, to work among the ordinary teach- ers of the day. Trixie has resigned every right and title to the inheritance she has been enjoying in blissful ignorance of usurping the place of another. And now Pauline and Winnifred are Mrs. Hugh's guests until the summer, when Mrs. Shirley Hugh will return to Wil- low Grove Cottage, to reside with her grand- parents, 'Squire and Mrs. St. Clair, who yearn, with a terrible longing, for the return of their pet and darling.. Lieutenant Hugh's funeral had been con- ducted with all the pomp and splendor due to a distinguished gentleman. After one is fy>dead, no matter how great their sins may have been, those sins are calml}'^ looked upon [ as virtues. "^ Trixie had received the sympathy of all her acquaintances and friends, and Society mourned over the necessary absence of one of their bright stars on account of her husband's death. And she has invited Miss Dup Rieo and her sister to make their home with her until July, when she leaves New York and returns to the quiet home life at Willow 'Grove Cottace. At the present moment Mrs. Hugh is seated at the small gipsy table near the tire, answer- ing the little note Ross Fulton has this morning sent to ask for a private interview with Pauline. That young lady is just now reclining gracefully on a couch, her head tied up in a white silk handkerchief plentifully sprinkled with cologne, suffering all the agonies of a sick headache. So she had given Mis. Hugh free permission to answer her letter. " Oh Trixie, tell him anything," she says trying to speak unconcernedly but failing most miserably ; for Pauline is not insensible of the deep regard Ross Fulton cherishes for her, and she can safely say — and satisfy her mind — that it certainly is not her fortune he is desirous of obtaining, but the affection of his sister's friendless governess, who by some strange turn of Mother Fortune's wheel, has now been suddenly placed in the lap of luxury and the highest social esteem. For when Mrs. Hugh " took any one ui)," as the saying goes, every one was anxious to pay his or her share of homage to the fortunate being. " I think you had better write it yourself, dear," Trixie says as she rises from her rock- ing chair to stir the tire, into a brighter blaze, and just then the door is burst impetu- ously open and Winny runs in. Her appearance puts further thoughts of writing to Ross Fulton or any one else, out of the question, for she is the pet of the household ; everyone in it bows with smiling good will to the slightest command of the little golden-haired lady, who rules supreme 44 trixie's inheritance f {i|!t «i>! over tlio hearts of all from far and near, from nursery to the kitchen. Closing the door gently ))ehind her, aho, looks fiom her sister to Mrs. Hugh, wlio stands by the white marble fireplace in her trailing dress of black cra})0. " Come to me darling," Trixie says as the child still stands clasping the knob of the door. " I got some one here," the little one says slowly, "some peoples who loves us all," she cries delightedly. Then the door is pushed open, and a lady and gentleman enter. Pau- line springs from her sofa, exclaiming joyfully, " Mrs. Hheldon," and Trixie, with a smothered cry of " mamma," " papa," is clasped in the arms of the tall military gentleman. ** Yes, it is indeed papa, and we are return- ing for good from India and on our way to the dear old home," Mrs. Sheldon says in a subdued tone of thankfulness. For the years have been very long, and oftentimes a desire to once more behold the dear, familiar faces at home, would almost tempt her to fly back to them ; but now the period of exile is ended and there will be no more parting. Mrs. Sheldon turns to Pauline and lays her hand tenderly upon the orphan's head. " Ah, my dear, now you must tell us how you are here safe and well to welcome us back. How many, many times 1 have wept when I i-ealized the sad death of you and dear little Winnifred. Tell us, my child, by what intervention of Providence you came to be saved on your fatal voyage, which proved destructive to so many of your fellow passen- gers." ** Mamma, Pauline was quite ill before you came. What a capital cure you and papa have proved if you have been the means of scaring her headache away." And Trixie laughs the old ringing laugh as she looks with love and gladness at the beloved faces of her parents which she has not seen since she was (^ little child. But Pauline declares gayly she feels quite well, and Avillingly begins her interesting narrative. " After we left India the voyage for several days was very pleasant, and although we knew no one on boai'd, save the captain, who was like a father to me in his kind attentions, Winny and I enjoyed the sea and all the strange novelty of things around us. After six days of beautiful weather, a severe gale of wind and rain set in which caused a great flutter, for every one at once became ill. During the night of the 8th our vessel col- lided with another iron steamer, and instantly afterward the fearful words of * we are sink- ing ' rapidly passed from mouth to mouth. The captain came to nie and said he would do nil he could to save our lives, and if he failed, God would protect us if such was His will. Ah me, when I think of that night and the terrible howling of the sea and wind, the screams and cries of the women and children, the oaths and prayers of the men, and our ship going rapidly from us. It all is as fresh in my memory as if it happened yesterday. The boats were got out, and the captain stood read}' to assist us in. Four or five men made a rush to get in first, but the captain pushed them back, saying in a clear, steady voice,. ' I said the women and children first ; then, cowards, it will be your turn.' But as he spoke one pulled a knife from his pocket and thrust it into the captain's breast, inflicting a dangerous wound; they then jumped into the boat and pushed oft". The other boats were quickly launched and filled, but the sea must have swallowed them up, for we never saw them again. The last boat contained the captain, first mate, two ladies, Winny, three sailors and myself. We were nearly lost several times, for the sea w& . furious ; but after several hours of wretched suspense we were fortunately picked up by a passing brig- antine and treated with every kindness. My dear friend, the captain, got cold in the wound. he ro\ we lod eii -.Siii Jels quite terestinjr '1' several ough we ain, who tentions, rl all the After ere gale ^l a great came ill. essel col- instantly are sink- mouth, kvould do le failed, His will, and the ind, the children, and our as fresh jsterdav. V lin stood en made i pushed y voice,, i; then, t as he ket and icting a into the ts were 3a must 'er saw ed the r, three ly lost is; but nse we S lirig- 3. My wound - OR, WHICH SHALL \VL\ I 45 he had received and died before we reached New York, and we witnessed with deej) sor- row his ])ody consigned to the deep. When we reached New York I found a comfortable lodging and at once began to look about for employment, for in looking over some old papers of my landlady, 1 read the account of the. loss of the " Argila " and all on board. .Something warned me if I let Mr. Misereiie know of my existence he would insist upon my returning to him, for the law would be on his side as my legal guardian, I would I'ather have drowned than over return to the man whom, from the first moment I looked upon liis face, I hated. " Oh dear, Mrs. Sheldon, believe me, I have often wished for your kind, motherly sympa- thy, and the colonel's Stirling encouragement and advice. " Then Winny took ill, and for some days the doctor shook his head very gravel}', and as I bent over the sick bed of my darling sister, I cried to God in my anguish why had He not let us die together on the fatal ship, and not let me be left utterly alone. But He in his gracious mercy restored her to me, and with much care she soon grew better and regained her old brightness. I saw by the papei" Mrs. Astor's advertisement, and she — I think God must have put it into her heart to treat us kindly — took my sister into Iier home and heart, and her goodness I never can appreciate too highly. By her and her entire family I was treated as one of their own. Then Ross Fulton, Mrs. Astor's bro- ther, asked me to be his wife, and I refused — not because I did not return his affection, and was unaware of the nobility of his chai-- acter, but I thought perhaps some day I could tell him I was not always the poor governess I then was ; and, thank Heaven, that day has come. When I. was summoned to the side of Shirley Hugh's dying bed, I found it almost beyond my strength to for- give him, but I did; for althoxighhe wronged me, still, afterward he righted the wrong. Then 1 made Trixic's acciuaintance, and I felt the keenest pain when I found, by the existence of myself, she was deprived of all her wealth. She brought Wniny and I to her home, and has been — oh, so good to us — more like a sister, in fact, than anything else." "Poor dear," Mrs, Sheldon says, "you have suffered much ; but T hope your path in the future will be more smooth and pleas- ant." " Amen I " said the Colonel, heartily. "You have acted bravely through all," " And Mr, Miserene, Avliere '.> he t " Paul- ine inquires. " Oh ! my dear ; poor soul, he fell from a high landing and after much suffering he died. His poor little wife will be lonely ; but it is to be hoped her life will be more peaceful. During his life, he let no one around him rest with his wild ideas and fancies." " Poor Mrs. Miserene," Pauline says, softly, " I can never forget her." Just then the servant came to tell Miss Dup llieo a gentleman was waiting her pres- ence, and on going to the reception-room, Pauline finds Ross Fulton, looking very anx- ious and exj)ectant. " I could not wait for you to write and so called for your answer from your own lips," ,^r. Fulton says, anxiously. / Pauline, with a frank smile, lays her hand in Ross Fulton's, and replies : " You have waited very jiatiently. I love you, and will jii^ your wife." Ross Fulton, "as he folds lier in his arms, says earnestly : " Heaven grant no cloud will ever rise to dim our happy future, for I will do all in my power to make you happy, my darling, and make you forget the past years of sorrow." 46 TRIXIE's. INHERITANCE ; I TIjc day for tlie inarriugo was not fixed. But Ross iiloadod for a double wedding, for Madge Vuiiderlcjon and Larry were to l)e united on the second of June ; so Pauline consented, and as there is little time to spare aflairs have to become considerably rushed. 3««r CHAPTER XVIIl. DKPAKTUnE FUO.M NEW YORK. Mrs. Sheldon and the Colonel had been coaxed to remain until Trixie should be n^ady to accompany them to Willow Grove cottage ; J)ut they were too anxious to see Master Bobby •md all the dear home friends. But on the first of June, the day before the great event, they came back to bo present at the ceremony; for Colonel Sheldon was to give Pauline away, while Mr. Vanderleon officiated in the same capacity to his daughter. It was all a very grand and costly aft'air, this double wedding of two of the fairest and wealthiest ladies of the season. And so they were married — as millions have been before and will be again — amidst flashing of jewels, the oddur of rare plants, the smiles of friends, and the usual amount of criticism; but the words of all were alike, both brides were charming and the grooms looked proud and happy. After they had gone the invited guests were having a dance at Mr. Vanderleon's mansion. Trixie smiled and then sighed, as she sat before her parlour fire, for she had driven direct from the cliurch to lier own home, she had no heart for the gay doings, but the brides had desired her not to fail being a witness to their happiness. So she, with her mother and father attended the ceremony. And now as she sits there with Winnifred on her knee, she thinks sadly of her own wedding day, and prays with a sob that those girls' lives may be far different from her own. She is left in charge of Winny during her sister's absence. Mrs. Sheldon has gone to rest before tea, and the Colonel is occupied with the Tirnes in the library. Presently Colonel Sheldon enters with the paper still in his hand. "I see ShrieAO Cortland, your old play- mate at home, has been doing great things lately. I have not the slightest doubt that young man will be famous one of these days — they talk of promoting him again. It is truly wonderful how some young men make their way in the world ; better than men used to in my days. And her father as he puts on his glasses again and seats himself under the gaslight, does not see the look of sufFering that passes over his daughter's face. She rises and cells him "as Winny ha& gone to sleep she will carry her upstairs." And, on reaching the nursery she dismisses the nurse, and says she will stay with the child until she is soundly asleej). So the nurse goes away muttering that " misses look& more like a ghost than ever, only what ailed her was a mystery." It was strange that the name of Shrieve Cortland could send a thrill through her whole being ; could she never forget 1 Wduld the remembrance of his every word and gest- ure never fade from her memory 1 " Many such a battle is fought every day in thousands of hearts, even amongst those around us ; but the world never knows — such feelings cannot be sympathized with in the common place every day life. They must be fought and conquered alone with the help of a watchful Father, who is the only one to soothe with a blessed peace. And to this Helper Tiixie went and poured out all her feelings at His feet. There was a gi'and chance of bargains for Paulino to spare nsbed. in Iiis I play- things iht that cse days . It is n make an men r as he Jumself look of sr's face, uiy has ^stairs," ismisses 'ith the So the es looks It ailed shrieve ?h her Wduld d gest- ly day those —suck in the List be lelp of 3ne to > this ill her as for OR, WHICH SHALL WIN ? 47 those wishing to furnish their houses, for all of Mrs. Lieutenant Hugh's elegant and costly furniture was to be sold at auction. Colonel and Mrs. Sheldon, with Mrs. Shir- ley Hugh and Winny Dup Rieo, leave the city the second week of July for Willow Grove Cottage. Pauline Fulton has not yet rotiu-ned, nor will she for some time. As Larry's foot has began to trouble him again, and as Madge feels very anxious concerning her husband, Pauline and Ross have decided to remain with them until he recovers somewhat, and then travel homeward by easy stages, which will necessitate considerable time to accom- plish. So Trixie has taken Winny with her to re- main until her sister's return, and the child is unboundedly happy and content. She is spoiled by everyone, and is always monopo- lized by Master Bobby, who looks upon Miss Winnifred as his (^special property — and she is always willing to be guided by his superior wisdom ; ai:d to have a willing victim to " boss " is Master Bobby's highest ambition. And so the time flies bv. One evening Trixie sat out on the pleasant flower-decked verandah, half thinking, and paying only half attention to the novel lying on her lap. " Mrs. Hugh, will you please step up stairs; Miss Winnifred is very sick and your mother is very anxious 1 " " Trixie starts, as the voice of W'innif red's nurse recalls her to the present, throws down her book and runs quickly to the nursery, where Winny lies in her bed with flushed cheeks and wide, sler j^less eyes, with nurse Norah and Mrs. Sheldon leaning over her, with deep alarm written on their faces. Grandmama St. Clair is giving instructions in low, hurried tones, as she moves quickly about the room, her placid face looking very grave. This was the beginning of Winny's illness. The child tossed about all night in hi^h fever. Tlie doctor said her constitution was far from strong ; that she had not fully lu^eovered from her previous attack, and nothing could be done but to give her tonics to keep her strength up, and that was all. The restless- ness gave place to a languid listlcssness moro alarming than ever. She cared for nothing but to lie down. Trixie dispatched for Paulino to come im- mediately. But when INIrs. Ross Fulton arrived her coming failed to produce th© eff*ect they hoped for. The child clasped her thin little arms around Pauline's neck, and kis^sed her— then she seemed to forget to feel any surprise at her return. Pauline was nearly frantic. " Do you not want to go back to the pretty, lively city, and our pretty new home, my darling i" she would ask. " Winny wants to stop with Bobby till the gentle angels comes to take mo to my dear papa," the child would reply, and for hours she would sit and look at the sky, as if she expected to see something strange appear. " Sure an' now what mischief have ye been getting into, ye wicked rogue" — nurse Norah has hunted the house high and low for her two charges ; and now she has gone through the gardens, calling as she goes along. The search would have been fruitless, had not nurse Xorah's quick ear heard some one sob- bing in the most heart-broken manner, in fact, it would " most melt the heart of a stone, sure an' it would." And this woeful sound led her to the spot where Master Bobby lay flat on the grass, crying "fit to break his poor little heart." Winny sits beside him, despair depicted on her countenance, her big blue eyes looking too sad and serious for the wee baby face. " Don't you cry any more, dear Bobby, but it's the truth," she is saying as nurse Norah appears, and Master Bobby's cries become louder than before. 48 THIXIK's INHElllTAXCK ; 11 " Coiiic )i(i\\, It'll nurse Noriih wlint all this racket is iil)out," slit; says, ns she sits down Jjesid*; the cliildroii iind proceeds to gather tlicm IkhIj into hci- cujuicioiis apron. Winny snys she is <,'oin,L,' to dio, and leav«^ me, and go up with tlie Itright angels, and she wants mo to 1j(! a good Itoy so I can go too, an' f want tf) go no\T, and she suys I can't for over so many years yet." And Master IJoliby broke down completely. " Xorah's darlin' must not he afther talkin' that way, ye know, slus will soon be well, an' live to see poor old nurse Xorah buried yet." J5ut Winnifred looks so much like a being fi'om anotlier world as sh(! sat there in liei- wliite dress and yellow hair, that nurse Xorah got ([iiickly up from lier seat, and sternly ordered them both to get home. At this moment Koss Fulton and grandpa 8t. Clair passed by on their way home from shooting, and with a gay laugli Koss lifts AVinny ("his baby,"' as he calls her,) in his arms and prepares to carry her hom(\ while Master Bobbby liovers near, determined lie ■would keep his eye on his pet and favorite, for fear she would really prefer the angels to him and go oft' suddenly some day when he was not looking. The next dav was warm, still not too warm, -and Trixie had i)roposed taking tea on the lawn instead of indoors. Colonel Sheldon , has carried Wiiniy out and the child is sing- ing dreamily to lierself. Black Sally has come over with a message from Miss (,'onny to ask them over to tea at th(! cottage, as it is so i)leasant and Miss Jtu'usha was wanting some lively company j "An' what ails de baby?" Black Sally alway , called Winny " de baby." The child sat in a ! largo wicker chair, with crimson i)lush pillows at her back, and as ^Irs. Sheldon glanced to- ward her, she thought it only the vivid hue of the cushions that made the; child look so ghastly, but Sally knew that something was wrong. " Oh Sally, Sally, look up there," the baby voice crii.Ml. And Sally looked where the small flngf.'r pointed to the sky but declared, "do hunb mus' bo dreamiu', fur she seed nurtin." "Oh Paulino! Trixie! See, sc(!thobrigl beautiful angel coming for Winny. Oh, all of you kiss nic (piick ! Oh Bobby, Bobby, bo good and como to me in heaven !" And witli her arms lifted toward the sky, Winnifred Saxony Dup Rico fell back in Ross Fulton's arms a corpse. And it seemed by those who witnessed her happy death that the sky sud- denly became a bright fiery crimson and then faded slowly into a calm, peaceful blue. The little form was laid away a few days after and Ross Fulton took his wife away to foreign lands, to see if change of scene would make her forget this second blow. !Madgo and Larry lived their careless, gay life in bustling city style, while those at Wil- low drove cottage lived in quiet, peace and contentment. CHAPTER XIX. ALLS WELL THAT KXDS WELL. Four years have passed since they laid little Winny in her pleasant shady resting place, where Mrs. Hugh is now placing fresh roses and pansies on the little white marble -cross that bears the name of Winnifred Sax- ony Dup Rieo. Twice every week during the season of blooming flowers, Trixie per- forms this labor of love, always accompanied by Master Bobby, in whom there is a most remarkable change for the better. He is gradually foreaking his mischievous habits and becoming a really good boy. It is the / C»R, WHICH SHALL WIN ? 40 1 tea at d Miss inpaiiy 111 way ossessing the unfaltering love of one of the noV)lest and most generous hearted men — for love had won where riches failed." And Pauline, as she clasps her little daugh- ter, Saxony, in her arms, laughs long and merrily, for she knows that Trixie Cortland's words are true. (■ i I' )lc?r=. / ""^^JU 'Al