Chapter 111154087

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Chapter NumberI
Chapter TitleHOW THE TRYST WAS KEPT
Chapter Urlhttp://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article111154087
Full Date1875-12-25
Page Number2
Corrections0
Word Count10630
IllustratedN
Last Corrected0000-00-00
Newspaper TitleThe Newcastle Chronicle (NSW : 1866 - 1876)
Trove TitleTregarthen's Tryst: A Christmas Story
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TREUARTHEN'S TRYST.

A CHRISTMAS STORY. SELECTED.

CHAPTER I. HOW THF TRYST. WAS KEPT.

?Break, break, break, On thy cold gray crags, O sea ! But the te.uder grave of a day that is dead Can never come hack to mo. Tennyson. A carious Christmas-eve, with white snow laying thick and soft over the Cornish liilla and moors, nnd blue flashes of lightning glimmer

ing weird and fainc in the horizon, making the sen and sky 'show black by comparison under their strange, unearthly radiance. ' A bad look out for to-morrow,' said one fisherman to another, hs they stood anxiously regarding the weather, ' and an ill-omened night for the business up yonder.' 'Aye, aye, is this the night?' grunted his companion, looking up to where the lights from a large mansion showed clear and bright ' through the darkness, and shone out over the dark waters. ' This is the night, sure eoough. It's twenty yearn te-night since old Tregartben died — you'll mind of it, mate?' 1 Aye, fight well. I don't know that ever I've seen it lighten over the snow since. That was au awful night — storm, and wind, and tempest ; my mother used to say that the heard the old mail's groans even to Milendreth youder. There was something on his mind, more than the parson could pray away, I'm ? thinking.' ' Aye, I doubt there was. Twenty years — how the time does run to be sure. And the heirs are to take possession to-night. There'll bo a mort of squabbling, I'm sure, over the old place.' 'Idou'c think there will. There be bat two left— Mr. Hugh, that's beenaway in the wars, and Miss Ailie, his cousin, who's coming right away from a French boarding-school. . They are to divide the fortnre equally, they say.' ? -. ', Happen they'll marry and share it equally. Tregarthen's a place none would like like to halve.' ' I wouldn't live in it if it was given to me for nothing.' ' Why V ' They say it's haunted.' The voice of the speaker sank to a tone of mystery as his comrade questioned him, and they sauntered off, the one telling, the otker hearing, as wild and weird a story of the supernatural as it ever entered into the brain of a Cornish man to conceive ; and the brains of the dwellers in that western promontory are fertile in the batching and receiving of j»host stories. Hardly an isolated house in the whole county in without its ghost. Tre garthen was an isolated house ; but there was nothing gloomy or ghostlike about it extern ally. It stood bn'Very high ground, overlook . ,ing the sea for runny a mile, but yet sui rounded by woods, which grew, as they do in some of the picturesque Cornish bays, very nearly down to the water's edge. Theie was but a precipitous wall of rock, a stretch of shining gray sand, between the Tregarthen woods and -the water, which looked so calm and glassy on this winter's night. Twenty yeais before our story begins, the master of-Tiegarthen had been a morose, miiantrop'hical bachelor, living alone in the house that had descended to him from along line of ancestors, 'the world forgetting, by the world forgot.' ' He was not without kindred. His two younger brother* were happily married, with homes and prattling ohildren to vary the monotory oi their lives ; but they never came near. him. No. one knew what had made. 7uliu» Tregarthen what he was. . Ha had gone abroad some years before a debonair, light-hearted gentleman, and returned ia twelve months what he re mained to, the day of death.. The property' v was absolutely his, to do what, .ha* liked j

witli;-yet no one fawned upon him in hopes o( prospective'' wealth. There came to be such ; a mystery about him, that eren his brothers, kept aloof, and not even the news of the death of the eldest, and the distress of his widow and her child, drew him from bis re tirement. ' Of course, Hugh will be my heir,' he said to his lawyer ; ' that is, some time, and he must be properly educated. Bat I cannot have' them here.' When the little Hugh was four years old, a terrible tragedy took plane at Tregarthen. A curious night of storm and wind passed over the south coaBtof England, lightning gleamed over the snow, and through the howling of the angrv wind came rumbles of distant thunder. A cry for help at miduight from the chamber of Julius Tregarthen aroused his terrified do mestics, to find him dying. Past all help was he ; and the messenger sent to summon medi cal aid stumbled at the threshold of the French window over the corpse of a woman — a corpse for many hours, as the set face and rigid limb» told only too plainly ; but who she nas, or whence she came, or what she wanted there, no one could tell. ' Driven there by the storm, most likely,' they all said, and carried her into the house, where death was silently waiting for another victim. Julia-) Tregarthen died that nigh!;, never hav ing regained his consciousness. Apoplexy was the cause of his death, the doctors de clared, and the two corpses lay waiting for in quest and burial beneath the same roof. ' Death from natural causes' was the ver dict in both cJfes, and they were buried — Mr. Tregarthen as became tho representative of an old family, and the nameless woman as b*ecame a vagrant and pauper. No one came to claim her, no one came to look at her dead face, or to fold the thin hands over the breast that had once beat high with love and hope. Like the rest oi humanity, she was a nameless, lifeless thing, to be buried and forgotten as soon as might be. Mr. Herbert Tregarthen, the only reniain ing brother, directed the funeral, and assumed all the importance of the family. Hugh's would be a long minority— of course he would be giiafilian conjointly with the mother, and he would keep up the old place in proper style ; he only hoped that his brother had not made any idiotic disposal of the property. Not idiotic, perhaps, but certainly eccentric and pecuiiar. Perhaps the dead man had mistrusted his brother, perhaps his misan thropical aversion to his kind extended to his belongings as well, who caa tell ) Any way, Julius Tregarthen's will came to be regarded as one of the wonder* of the country side, and remained so for many a Ion' year.

It net forth that, ' being of sound mind, etc., etc..' he devsied, first, several large sums I to charities, then legacies and annuities to ser- ! vants, aid then— what made Herbert Tregar- I then's hair stand on end as he listened to it. The estate, house, and gardens were to re main as they were, and the money lying to his account at his banker.*, and out in other se curities, was to be collectd and placed iu the funds at the current rate of iuterest for tweuty years. The house was to be kept in repair, trusty pcrsous being deputed to reside therein, and the revenues from tbe estate were to be corefully collected from time to time. At the end of twenty years — on Christmas-eve, 1858 — his heirs, the children of lijs brothers, ware to meet in the old house and oluirx. their share ?r their inheritance. The will furrlitu- en joined (whoever should live in it to make it bright and liroly, 'to take- warniug by Ills example, and blot out, by the cheerful pres ence of youth and purity, the memory of the foul stain he had brought upon it.' What the stain could possibly be no one could possibly! imagine, Julius jTiegurthen hud lived a pure and blameless life to all out ward seeming, and not a word had ever been breathed against him. Herbert was furious when he heard the will, and declared it should be set aside — that his brother was mud, &c. ; but the lawyer showed him quietly that his clientf'hud been in full j possession of bis senses. A thousand pounds apiece was given to Herbert and the mother of Hugh, and with that, though sorely disappointed, they had to be content. Time rolled on, and long before the twenty years had expired, Hugh Tregarthen lay in the family vault by the side of his brother, arid knew the mystery of the curious will. One by one his children and their mother followed him — all but one — till, when the twenty years had elapsed, and the Christmas eve of 1858 had come, only two persoos were left alive to claim Julius Tregarthen's legacy — Hugh, whose widowed mother had died ..while he was yet a boy, and his youngest ?ousin, Euhlia, or to give her the pet synonym so pretty and bo common in the west, Ailie. Mark Pengelly and Ins wife Mary, who had been placed in charge of the house, were busy for many a long day before the eventful 24th. They had no idea what the two young people were like. Miss Tregarthen had never seen the place, and Hugh had never been there since big boyhood. Theywere old retainers of the Tregarthens, and had stood by the miserable death-bed of that memorable Christmas, and conteinplatod a change with dismay. ' We shan't know the old place, wife,' Mark said, as they, stood watching at the library window for the arrival of the visitors. ' Dost see how it lightens, old woman just as it did that night V ' Uajb ! It's an ill-omened night, she said, shuddering. ' I feel as if evil were coming upon us. You know what the old saw says — ' See tho lightning over the snow, Look for dole, and wait for woe.' Woe came then ; and I've never seen lightning over the snow since. It's coming again to night, Mark-' ' Nothing's coming but a young girl and a fine young soldier, Nance. Parsons, and wedding-bells, and christening* after are more likely to come of it than anything else.' ' You've made up your mind they shall marry,' she said. 'I dare say they will, if Mr. Hugh hasn't found a wife out in the East.' * Or Miss Ailie a lover at school. What a flash ! and, Mark, here comes the thunder. Heaven save us !' That's not thunder ; it's a carriage.' They are coming.' Not they : only one — a young girl of exceed ing beauty, who descended from the carriage' as they gained the door, and paid the drivei with the utmost solf-poMession. - ' Are you Mark Pengelly 1' she asked. ' ^es, Miss.' ? f am Eulalia Tregarthen. Where is my coudin?' * . ? '

« Not come yet, miss. Will you please to ionie in V tl Once or twice he saw the boy, a little fel- / ow in petticoats, but evinced no particular in- 1 rest in him. n She directed a small box — her only luggage * — to be brought in, and shook hands with *ii STancy. ' Are you come alone, Miss V asked the old v woman, in surprise. L ' Yes, quite alone. All the way from Ply- t nouth in a fly only think !' she said laughing, y I wonder what Madame St Amarinthe would o lay if she knew ! Where shall I go?' They took her into the library, and ihe re- f noved her hat and cloak, unveiling a beauti- s iul face and a perfectly shaped head, round i which a wealth of golden brown hair was coiled in a fashion that was wont to drive her school f Fallows mad' with envy, because they could, a none of them imitate it successfully, yet t which cost her only a single twist of the « band to execute. They brought her refresh- t ments, and offered her one of the youngest t servants (for a staff had been engaged pro \ tern) to wait upon her. 1 ' I don't want any more waiting on,' she i said. 'I would rather talk to you because i you know the place. I had a maid, but she ? wouldn't come here. I've heard all about i Uncle Julius, and a dead woman being found \ here in the library. Why, this must be the , very room !' She looked around with curiosity on her | pretty face, but no traces of fear. She had j thorough contempt for ghosts, had Ailie ? -j Tregarthen. i ?Yes, miss; this ia tho room,' Nancy i replied. 'She wa3 found out by that win- | dow. It was just 'such a night as this, too — , lightning and snow.' i ' * And does she walk?1 . j 'She,, miss? Who? * . ? The woman.' ' Not that I know of, miss,' Nancy said, nervously, the colour fading out of her rosy old face at the idea. ? But people say so.' ' I daresay there's a great deal of ghosts in Cornwall, Miss Ailie,' Mark saH, grimly, and Ailie laughed merrily. 'All the better if -she doesn't,- she said; ' I don't want to make her acquaintance, nor Uncle Julius's either, and the tale I was told was that they go hand-in-hand on stormy nights 'round the house, aud arouud tbe house,' us the children say.' ' Oh, don't talk like thar, miss,' said Nancy, imploringly ; ' it makes a person's flesh creep.' ' Well, I won't, but I do like a good ghost — one that you really can fancy you believe in. What a time my 'cousin is. I have kept the tryst more faithfully than he has. !' Born since the death of Julius Tregarthen. the mystery of the bouse had cast no gloom upon her. Too young to sorrow for her pa rents, or to remember more than one or two of her brothers and sisteis, her orphaned life bud been mostly passed at school, and the ad vent of her nineteenth birthday, and her arri val at the old house, had been the one event of her existence, looked forward to with mingled dread and expectation. It had come now, and she fouud herself alone with two pleasant, comely old people, in a cheerful room, well warmed and lit, with the storm outside shot out by crimson curtains.JHnl such a look of home about it, as made her heart leap. Here she was, free from the thraldom of school, waiting the advent of her cousin Hugh the unknown idol of her girlish heart ever since she exchanged her short frocks and trou sers for the more flowing draperies of woman hood. Hugh Tregarthen, though only twenty.four was a hero to many another woman beside his cotikia Ailie. A commission had been pur chased for him very early, and at eighteen he had entered the army, to be sent to the Crimea before be had learned what soldiering really was, and to come unscathed through all the horrors of that disastrous campaign. From there he went to India to help to quell the mutiny in that stricken land, and came back Captain Hugh Tregartheo, with a limp, and a name that made him the idol of all the women, and the envy of all the men. Ailie sat looking at the fire, and wondering what her cousin would be like, and whether she should live at Tregarthen or be bent off elsewhere. ' If he has a wife I shall hate her !' she said to herself. ' Ah, here he is.' The door-bell inng loudly, there was the commotion of an arrival, and Murk Pengelly tlung open the door, announcing— ' Mr. Hugh, Miss- -leastwayB, Captain Tre garthen.' And two gentlemen entered the library. For a moment she hesitated, and then the taller and darker of the two held out his hand. ' My cousin Ailie, I suppose — perhaps, I should say Miss Tregartben ?' ? Oh, no, please — say Ailie.' ' Well, Ailie, 1 am very glad to meet you, my dear. I am Hugh Tiogarthen ; this is my friend, Major Torrens.' CHAPTER II. HOW SOME ONE CAME TO THE TRYST UNBIDDEN. Oh, it was fiightful there to see A ladv richly clad as she, Beautiful exceedingly ! Colsridoe. Major Torrens looked at Ailio as she stood there with tho soft light glimmering on her pretty face and golden hair, and his heart went out to her, and was lost to him for ever. Ho was older than Hugh Tregarthen, though, being fairer, he looked, if anything, younger — a man who had knocked about the world, and seen service in almost every part of it ; but until he stood before this young girl in the old library of this Cornish country house he had never known what love wax. He actually trembled, this soldier of four teou years' service, under the gaze of this young gii 1, a stranger five minutes since ; and the hand that touched her was cold with a pas sionate emotion that startled the nmjor* himself. Hugh Tregarthen saw nothing in his cousin but a pretty, ladylike girl, rather misavsh in her manner, but pleasant withal ; and Ailie was decidedly disappointed in her cousin Hugh. Not that ho was not everything a cousin should be in his manner of greeting her. He was handsome, and a hero, but he- was not like his friend. She thought she had never seen anyone so handsome as this grave, stal wart, fair-haired soldier, who blushed and stammered in her presence like a great school boy. The three soon settled down to a comfort able supper, served to the best of Nancy's skill, and though homely, it wan by no means an uninviting. repast. '' ' -.-'?? - - . .' ' — — ^ ^

Wtien if was ended, ; Hugh' proposed- that hey should stay and paBS the Christmas there, kilie made no objection ; and as for Major 'orrena, had Hugh asked him to eat a Christ ias pudding out on the beach, with the snew whirling about his head, he would have done t gladly, so that Ailie was by his side. ? Then it's agreed we stay here — afterwards re go into law matters. You will be a rich, leiress, my pretty cousin, and your own mis ress, too, free what to do what you like with our wealth.- Is not the prospect a pleasant me?' ' I hardly know. Cousin Hugh,' she replied, eeling a strange wish creeping over Her, that he had some one to take care of her and her noney. By the terms of her father's will sho was ree from all control. Eighteen had been the ige he fixed upon for her taking possession of he small sum he had been able to leave her, md she was niuetecn now. She used to think hat sho would like her cousin to be the one to :ake care of her and her money ; but she did lot fancy him so now. Perhaps it was that Major Torrens was so much hand.soin er, so jiuch more her ideal of a man. Any way, she caught herself thinking, as she ate her mpper with a hearty girlish appetite, how very nice it would be to have such an arm to lean upon, such a heart to guide, such a head to counsel her in her path of life. The storm still ruged while they were at bbeirmeul — a strange, weird storm, with almost incessant flashes of lightning lighting up the snow' with a blue, unearthly radiance, and the clouds drifting hurriedly across the skyin black masses, driven by a wind that was almost «n felt below. Theie was very little thunder — a constant grumbling in the far distance was the only sound that accompanied the electrical phenomenon of the winter lightning. 1 How curious it seems,' Ailie Tregarthen said, after an unusually vivid flash, * to see lightuing in winter.' She walked to the win dow, and drew aside the heavy velvet curtain; 1 Ah curious as'all this old place seems to be,' sho added ; ' I seem to have come to a region of enchantment.' - ' We must find out where there is anything so earthly as beds in it, however,' Hugh said ringing the bell agaiu* ' Ii'h close upon eleven o'clock !' Nancy Pengelly, being summoned, announ ced that four bedrooms were ready for oc cupation. ' I did not known how many would be here,' she siiid. ' Will you please to see yours, miss V ' Oh, not till I go to bed ; I'm sure it's nice. Where is it V ' Just over this room, miss. The window is right above where you are standing now.' ' Ah. then I'm sure it's pretty and nice, and all that. I'm too lazy to go upstairs till I'm obliged. What's that light over there, Mrs. Pengelly V ' Out at sea, miss ?' ' Yes.' I That's the E'ldystone — tte lighthouse, you know.?' i ' How pretty it looks. And this terrace walk, how far does it go.' ' Along this side of the house, miss, and part of the west side, too. It is considered a vety nice walk in summer time.' ' I'm sure it is. 1 should like to go out now this veiy minute. Plow wild it all looks with the lightning gleaming on it.' As she spoke she unfastened the window, and, in spite of the remonstrances of the old woman, stepped out alone on the terrace. She had been gone but a few moments when a piercing scream broke the stillness The gentlemen jumped up from their gossip over the Ore and hurried to the window, followed by Nancy. They saw Miss Tregarthen hurry, ing towards them, and before, they could leach her; she fell senseless on the snow. Hastily dispatching Nancy for assistance, they rushed out, Major Torrens snatching up the lamp, and Hii£-h following close on his heels. They lifted tho apparently lifelssa form of the maiden from the snow, and carried her tendeily into the room. In a few minutes she opened her eyes, and looked round with a frightened gaze. 4 Where is she V she cried. ' ' What was it, Ailie ? What was the matter, Miss Tregarthen ?' exclaimed both the gentle, men at once, as they bent over her. ' Has anything frightened you V ' A woman out there !' replied the girl, and her voice rose to a shrill scream, as a flash of lightning filled the room with its* blue, un earthly radiance, and a clap of thunder broke over their heads with an appalling roar. 'See there ! There she is nguin, coming up to the window ! A woman with black hair, all in white, with a cloak dragging behind her ! She is beating on the window ! She wants to come in ! Keep her out. Cousin Hugh ! Save me from her, or I shall die !' And, she fell into a passion of hysterical tears, from which it took all the remedies known to Mrs. Pengelly and the two gentle, men to revive her. The clock in the hall was striking twelve, and the storm had died away to the faintest whisper, when she was able to sit up and thank them for their care. '1 suppose I must be tired,' nhe said; I didn't feel so, and the woman seemed to frighten me, somehow, gliding towards me on the terrace. Who was she, Cousin Hugh V ' ' A creature of your fancy, my dear. There was no one there.' ' Nonsense I I couldn't fancy a woman. She came right up the terrace, dragging her eloak behind her, and just this instant she tried to come in through the window. She looked so cold, and wsld, and miserable, I suppose she frightened rue. I never was so stupid before.' ' It was fancy, Miss Tregarthen j we saw no one,' Major Torrens said, slyly caressing the hand her faintness had permitted him to clasp. ' There has been no one here but ourselves.' I 1 do believe you'll try to persuade me I've seen the Tregarthen ghost,' she said with a ner vous laugh. ' Oh, I've heard all about it, and I shouldn't, be afraid of a dozen of the them ; but I sJwuld like to know where that woman went to.' To pacify her they went out and searched, and made inquiries, but no trace of any one could be found. No footmaik in the snow but her own betrayed an intruder. The ser vants had seen nothing, beard nothing, of any one. The night was too bad for any one from the adjacent town to come t4 Tregarthen, and the mystery was unsolved. Ailie was herself the next morning, mirth ful and happy, Hitting in and oat of the old place like a bird, and exploring all its nooks and corner* with a girl's curiosity. Major Torrens told Hugh Tregarthen of the impression Ailie had made upon him, and be fore the eventful 27th had gone by he had — ^ ?

whispered to her that he thought her lovely beyond all created things. ' .- But we need not linger over this part of our gtory ; their love aud their liappineHS lias little to do with Tregarthen's Tryst. Hugh took up his residence in the old house, and within six months gave his cousin and her fortune to the man he loved best on earth. A pretty wedding, a lovely bride, a hearty farewell from all, and Tregarthen was shut up again ; but only for a little while thii^tUne. Mr. and Mm. Torrens were to take up their residence there when the honeymoon was ovei, renting the old place of its new owner. Hugh Tregarthen was away with his regi rneut, a bachelor still, leading a pleasant, easy going life, such as* plenty of money and the absence of care alone can ensure. Tregarthen was his — a sum of money equal to the value of half the estate had been handed over to Major Torrens as his wife's Jrowry, and that gentleman being wealthy as well as his bride, the old house was to be kept up in a style un dreamed of by many generations of Tregai theus. Ailie declared she would have the style of everything preserved. The heavy old furni ture was 'in keeping,' she declared. One special peace of antiquity she begged of Hugh for her very own, ' to have and to hold,' she laughingly declared ; and he gave it to' her. It was a enmberaomo old carved cabinet, full of yellow-looking papers, and she declared its ugliness to be perfection. ' Keep it by all means, my dear, and put it in your diawing-room, if you like,' he said laughing. ' That I will. I mean to rummage to the verry bottom of it some day. Who knows what I may find among all those rusty old letters V ' Nothing that will pay you, my dear. The lawyers went over everv one with me. They ought to have been burnt before now.' But Ailie laughing declared nothing should be touched till she came back, and turned tho key of her treasure, and carried it ofl' with her in triumph. A happy wife she came back, all joyous hope and anticipation, to take up her abode in her abode in her family home, so altered and re novated now that she scarcely knew it for the same place. But Tregarthen did not agree with her, at least — it seemed so. From the first day of her settling down there she began to droop. Month after mouth passed by, and she faded perceptibly to all. Major Torrens consulted doctors and friends, and fretted him self hourly about his wife, and tried to believe what Ins was told — that it wash er condition, that when the baby, ft- hose advent he was so ardently hoping for, was born, she would be well again, &c. ; but lie could not blind him. self to the fact that more than coining mother hood ailed his once brilliant Ailie. 'I'm losing my reason, Hairy,' she said, one night, when Christmas was coming round again. ' I am going mad ! It is not bodily illness that ails me.' ' Going mad ! My darling, what a notion ! What makes you think so?' 'That woman! She will kill me !' ' What woman V ' The woman I saw on the terrace the night we came here. Harry, I see her so often.' ' See her ! My darling, there was no woman there !' ? No, that's it; but I saw one I see one now, night after night — a woman with white, wild face, and long, flowing hair. She comes up the terrace to thia window, and stand here as I saw her then. Sometimes she fades till in a heap here, close to the casement, sometime she stands still till she seems to fade away in the darkness, and I wake as if from a bad dream, sick and shivering with a horror that has gone near to kill me.' Her husband clasped her to his breast, gathering her in his arms an though he would fain shield her from all harm, aud he thought with a creeping shudder of the story concern ing the place. He must set to it. ' It is no fancy, dear. I should know her anywhere, she is so peculiar looking. Her eyebrows are very dark and arched, and her hair parts on one side, and waves from her forehead in a peculiar manner. She has a curious mark on the back of her right hand.' ' How closely you must have seen her, dear.' ' I always feel as if I must ; I cannot take my eyes off her, and then when I wake — for it must be a dream, Harry — oh, I cannot tell you how I shudder with cold and horror !' 'My poor darling, how you must have suffered ! But we wfll go away for a lime. In London you will see fresh faces, lead a new life, and forget, 1 hope, all that has been so terrible here.' Ailie gladly consented to leave Tregarthen. Her untold fear had been weighing her down till sho was becoming almost a monomaniac. The major was a man of prompt action, so he was not long before he had removed her to London, and placed her in the hands of one of the most eminent physicians of the day. It was not long before they weie met by Hugh, full of sympathy for his pretty cousin, but radiant with some* secret happiness of his own. The secret wns too big to be kept. Mr. and Mrs. Torrens had not been in Lon don an hour before they fouud it out. Hugh Tregarthen was . in love, and going to be mar ried. Chapter III. HOW THE TRYST WAS REMEMBERED. In her cars ho whispers gaily, ' If my heart by signs can tell, Maiden, I have watched thee daily. And I think thou lov'st me well.' Tennyson. It was even so — Hugh Tregarthen had met his fate, and in a place at which the world, had it known, would have held up its righteous hands and shuddered in horror. He had first seen the girl he loved on the boards of a the atre — had heard a joyous young voice singing in the conventional village scene of a stage merrymaking— had looked to see whose voice it was, and had lost his heart for ever. ' I must be going mad,' he said to himself, as he caught himself watching at the stage door, in a drizzle of fog-charged rain, to see his new divinity pass out ' Cora Benzozeni' was the somewhat singu lar name put down in the bills, and he imag ined it to be assumed, He was mistaken ; it had been the girl's mother's name, and she had never been known by any other. He saw ' her go out with an elderly person, who mi^ht have been her mother, and walk quickly away plainly dressed, and simple and quiec in man ner. He tried to forget her face,' and to keep: away from the Royal Polygon - Theatre, but it was no use— night after night he was attracted )here by the charms ef her. young voice. Hers was no grand position in the profeision she got her living by — no coronetted carriages ; thronged the doors while their owners flung ;

boquets and jewels at her pretty' f«.f m. ?) w.& .imply » hardworking, mode.t gi j Jl earned her living honestly, and wa,a^ S ful member of the Polygon company7 *? Hugh TregartUen was not a man to,in JK girl, affections lightly, and then whfaJ». 1 down the wind when his fancy h.dJntS self He set about his wooing like thehono* able gentleman he was; for, with nonehuX world to gainsay him, if he had taken a beX garwoman home to queen it at Tregarthen 3* resolved, if this young actreas proved worthS* to make her his wife. Jmf He found out where she lived, and called cM the elderly persoa-a Mrs. Barton-mM whom she resided. He timed his vieit wbS he knew the girl was away, and stated hiiiS tention in a straightforward, honest way thX considerably astonished the comely, clcanUM old woman, whom he presumed to be Cora'K mother. W ' No ; I'm not her mother, sir,' she replie* in answer to hit question, ' though she'i likeR dear daughter to me ' W 'Then who is she ? What is her name I1 W 'Ah, that I don't know, sir ! I don't kno«! whether she's a right to any name but the onff she goes by— it was her mother' t. Poor Cor* Benzonezi ! She was a prettier creature thaff her daughter, lovely as my darling is!1 I, ' Tell me all you know about her-don'li keep anything from me. If she ia base-born, I don't think it will make any differtnee intn feelings, so she be good' and pure herself. ' ' That she is, bless her,' said the old Wr fervently. ' As to her birth, I don't suppo'i anyone will erer know about that. H( mother, poor soul, said sha was marriei though heaven knows whether she eier hi been, or if she had been deceived, like so man; Ah, me, it's many a long year ago now!' ' How many V 'One and twenty years, sir. Cora'i i that, though she doesn't look it. Ah me? K shall be a lonely old woman when anj oiM takes her away from me.' -M, Hugh Tregarthen could have listened iff1 day to the praises of the girl who had jv suddenly stole his. heart away from him, biS he was eager to hear more of her anteced(i|» The story the old woman told was a cunoifl1 one, but she offered to give him proof of iflr truth, if prsof were needed 9. She stated that she knew Cora's motlfl.' very well as an actress in Paris, where.Jifl'1 own husband was employed as a propntjH: maker in one of the theatres. The ;on^E lady, being an orphan, lodged with them, tJH, was like a sister to her. A lucrative enjajjH) mont w.is offered to her at Berlin, and jljK went thither, remaining away over a yea» keeping up a correspondence with her oA friend the whole time. S ' I thought her letters grew rather cofl strainod at last,' Mrs. Barton went on; bjH there came one after a while, asking me -oi|H I take her in again. ' She was in tioitlcS she said, 'and had no one in the wodiH help her through it.' Of course I »iiH would, and as soon as they got my letttnljH carne back. She was only the shadow of uH own self, and was on the eve of becominjjM mother. ' I'm married,' she said bhttrljM when I asked her about it; 'an honejl woman, as you English people call it. Wfl you take care of me till I can go to my hn band ? I have plenty of money.' It wan a question of money between her and me, fi I liked her very much. She n«ver niw her husband's name to me, nor show nier marriage lines, she only said iS after the child was born she would go to hi and make him do her and it justice. W little darling — for I've looked upon hen mine all her life — was born in Novemh 1838, and three weeks afterwards her molt- went away.' .' Deserted her?' ' Heaven only knows, sir. I don't shintiH meant to do so. She left her in my clwjH and she left all her own things and !M valuable jewellery — Cora has it now-M told us she was going to her husband. H were loth to let her go, for she wasn't filH travel, but she said she should go mad if )? stayed, and she went. She bade us to tiH good care of the child, and said she should ? back in a fortnight ; but from that hour* never saw her, nor could get any clue to «? became of her. We never could hear ofafl gentleman who seemed to pay her more paifl cular attention than any othor— she wasnuB sought after by every one — and nothing PS ever happened to throw any light on the am tery. My husband grew so fond of ibe chj that he kept her. She brought a bles« with her, for we prospered well until he difl and now she helps me. I keep a home for hfl and she earns the money.' ? 1 And a neat little house it was, Mr. Tregfl then thought, as he listened to the ctirfol story. A fitting nest for such a pretty budj How he sped in his w-f|mg need notbetoj here. His utmost scrutiny could discover* flaw in Cora's life, and he laid his heart it ? feet with the feeling that, if she refusei bfl the world would hold no more joy for dim life no more pleasure. B She did not refuse him. She soon leW« to love this soldierly gentleman, who bluiH and trembled in htr presence like a boy,jj she said ' Yes' with a shy blush of PleaJ mounting over her cheeks, and a feeling tH there had suddtnly opened to her a «HiJ happiness and brightness she had never ittm ed of in her wildest visions. She bad no m how wealthy her lover was— two or three Njj dred a year and a snug little home tud tm the height of her ambition,. and it neverenWJJ her head to imagine the duties of TregirtM| or the household of which she would be m tress. & am Having no friends to please or orTendj whom their marriage could be of any poMiJ interest, they resolved upon a very qu'et'l ding, and keeping their secret from all exam those immediately concerned. So Con«| on with her duties at the theatre, prepwmgj the meantime a modest trousseau, w''ch'|*| Hugh Tregarthen laugh mightily in secrrtj he thought of the silks and lacea he w°u«l tonish his wife with when he took her no— « his bride and his darling to be, to tin 0| Cornish house by the sea.' . Tj Matters Were in this train when Major w rens brought his wife to London. HogD happy secret was let out before Aili. had c^ down from refreshing herself after her jouwj In answer to the major's inquiries, **0« gave him a brief sketch of the history ofjW* quaintance with his fiancee. ? The major tt tened in silence until Hugh Uld him ibe *? an actress. ' j ? A what T , ,...„ l| And Major Torrens s«t bolt upright ia i£ chair, and stared at his fritnd, «nly btblfI- him to have «one man. |

? 'And you are going to marry a woman o ? . boards of a theatre-a painted puppet wh ? run the gauntlet of public admiration til Ike is proof against blushes and shyness, and Enlist makes a woman lovely. Hugh, you Knust be mad !' . W 'Stop. Torrens— you are speaking of my Ifature wife,' Hugh Tregarthen said, gravely. ft Miss Benzonezi is a lady. Ladies can ?List on the boards, whatever your prejudices IL you lead to think. She is a pure, good El That she is nameless and friendless is K fault of hers. She will find names and ?Lids in her husband's love. - _ ?'I beg your pardon, Im sure,' said the ; Kior, holding out his hand. ' I might hava Ewn you would not choose unworthily ; j E there is such a glamour round stage ' Koines, lhat a man is taken in before he has j Ke to 'look about him. I thought you ' Eht have made the blunder of mistaking ' We for fiems- thal was a11 7 * Kff j (,;,(], I should have found it out before E K«,' was the quiet answer. ? If I did not E Eon what Hie woman I have chosen to be a | ?egarthen's wife ehould be, I should have ' tK (old you, nor mentioned her name in ' '?lie's iiearin^'. She will like ber, I'm sure.' v '?When shall we see her?' B mil nil! briig herto-morrow.' ' ' l ''?Ailie was herself again in the fresh atmos- ., 'Were, to. which her husband had brought g' n» With Tregarthen she had left behind „ ?'all her fancies, and she evinced all a n -Snail's interests in the little dish of romance d '?tared up for her ''delectation. She de- e '?red it ivas quite like a novel, and ' so nice leWolisin Hugh to fall in love with some one J '??oily knew.' . t; ''?And she has no mementoes of her parents, q Wfi thing,' said the sympathising Mrs. h Sens; 'nothing to remind her of them? S lonely she must feel ?' 'BSh« has been well cared for, my dear. al °!»:fostcr. mother idolizes her. Of her real iBer she has one memento — a clumsy S( *V't| a'most as big as a plate, with her a jjHrait in it. She wears it round her neck tl HKnually— out of sight, of course — and I'jflj npo» it as a sort of talisman. Tt seems jjVinother b.rie Mis. Barton, the woman a '?'» brought her up — guard it as she guarded n iM'.'tei for l'lilt 'l wou'd estahlish's Cora's j, l'WrftyJ if any doubt were ever cast upon it. '^?ii't see how, but Cora watched it accord v PWhatisitlike?' v tVWL common looking gold locket with a fvKf front, nothing more, very thick and jj ' 'iBjy, but Cora will show it. to you yourself. 8 *e!Siinust try and like her, Ailie, for my t m ?Insure I shall !' replied Ailie, warmly. 'SBjtfie morrow Ailie was all expectation as '?jBjwr approached for her introduction to ^ M.rHkroine of the 'remance in real life' as (| 'li^B?''' Hugh's courtship. She was all 0 ?vH^nd excitement as she heard the carri- \ .^?p at the door. She rose from her seat, '.vBkt smile of welcome in her joyous eyes. v °. -Bilon' me the pleasure of introducing my ?tlt'lM^ lo 'lnr new COUSIn'' sa'(' fJi'gli. t '.'^?y, leading the blushing girl forward. JBw henvens. Ailie, what is the matter !' ,^Kcti Maj'ir Torrens, in alarm, springing i JjHfafe'8 »ide.' .^Heyes wcie instantly turned on Ailie. | wiBf''' ^a'c ant' r''^- 8t!ir'llS wildly upon ' , ^^Rtho, half afraid at the singular recep- ( , .^^Btimk back, and tlien shrieking, ' That WtiB! '^lie woma' ' l|avc seen so often' at '\ ; lWr'ie' ''' '''' c'llt1D to her husband's side, i '^^Br Torrens clasped his wife to his breast iveml«rma-v- 1 raotkH!6 's Ullu'e'i I expect. I ought ] ^?itold you so,' Hugh replied, inwardly i .^Kliis cousin Ailie and her fancies at tne i vinti^K °^ l'ie seo- ' ^'rs* '^orrens 's vely - ^,^?1, and her nerves are all unstrung. She i id ioHIlrtlcr'i)reseiu|y-1 i 3W__^B^ her from the room, and left her for a | |(j ij^putcs, when he went back to see what i n't fitB1'''0 ^ilie's nerves had evidently re- ] id jf|R*85?ere shock. From the sofa she was j i to tiBt0'ler ke''- ravi'g wildly of the woman ; jouW:M?ream' am' imploring her husband to ; hour Hf''01' 'he dreaded spectre. She des- ] , t0 -|Bjlet over and over again, till both the ? ir ofift'1* '*u'n ue£a-- to feel uncomfortable, - ire-uBKnieinbered how entirely the descrip- i yil9agH{ieilwirh Cora's personal appearance ring W$^ arched eyebrows and dark hair, 1 the iP 0I)e side, aud there was a mark on - the duM which Mrs. Burton told him she had 1 blwsiB'|aa\ But Cora had never been near 1 he d«B'in— never anywhere in the west ; and BfotWre Hugh thought of it the more he ?d, without coming to any satisfactory TnOTJ?' on tile matter. curioWCora was sorely distressed at the result ty bitdMntroduction to Hugh's friends — the tt be ttB that every day Ailie was reported to be BOWriMS0 !11 that ller Iife was sa'1 10 be in irUt?Mi At 'enStn ller DaDy w»s born — a sed bi^elicate boy— and with his birth her ' b'«tt''e'1 ' but the nallucination about ^^Pnde-elect remained as strong as over. ' hluH^-8 're identical»' 8he persisted. ' I DM^fcissomc mystery about the girl. If wyi^Bitros her, evil will come of it. There's ^'JB ^Tregarthen, Harry, and she will rdreHK^ 'ens was very mwch annoyed at I noiiB'u51' Heliked Cora very much, and icebiBL gh was bound U8 in her- Tnere id km1'8 for !t but to take his wife abroad, r«ntaK,'* clianc0 and time to Temove the rtrtheB- ?* she had got i' 'er head ; aud be 3«re.about that Hugh's wedding was ?,??»» even he intended it to be, from ffendB0*,:0' llis friel«l and cousin. No ona pM^Kv8aboutit t5U» one morning, the ktwm!l° rld was electrified by the [ exMHFjv1!1 of tne marriage of ?' Captain iji'«'1Jm' late°f 'he 5lst Regiment, »riB|K^,?enzoneni. ubimWI^Cora Denzoneni was no one had Mf^B^'1 She had never been heard of iuWWT'H and there was no one who rhoi«?* any light on the mystery.. tb« «W««e«l lime t0 her now how peop]e *M'i wa8 a haPPy »if«V safe in her °j ix re* Bnd whu m°re weaitb « -»« ?!»i,an,Iler wildest drMW8 !m.i ever ,^lli) i? Jmd not Mgl'teiwd her, in ^11 'gh style« with any sudden dis SfMZ* n'aSnificence. He had let her r^lkKa.!6''81 and T^garthen wa, all he hei*W fern°W- They were in 'o h«»y fe?W ''eir hon«ymoon tour; it '\mZ , p° roaminB »bout from one vBS of va8tte- plea8ant plans - 1 I* lnter«»t 'n the pl.ee wh«r« her

unknown father must have lived, and Hugh though it barely possible 'that he might gather some information respecting her mother in the Prussian capital. Ho haunted the theatres assi duously, hunted up old play-goers and actc.s, and succeeded in finding more than one who remembered the Cora JJenzonezi of twenty years ago. She had been very popular, evi dently, and flyblown, spotted portraits of her still existed in out-of- the-way shops and coffee houses. No one could remember any one of her admirers who was more particularly atten tive than any other ; but one of the old em p/oijes of the theatre where she had been en gaged remembered that a young Englishman, resident in ILerlin, had left the city about the same time that the dancer had snddenly broken her engagement and gone away. Their en deavours to find out his name proved fruitless ; Jut Hugh Tregarthen perscrved, and hunted' ;hrou&h old records and papers, till he almost ;ave up the search. At length he lit u\ion some old books of the thciitre, in the posses iion of a man who had held a situation equi valent to acting manager in England. He had tnown Cora, he said, very well- indeed, he lad loved her in a timid, hesitating sort of vay, and had kept the records of her triumphs, is men will keep old memoranda that can give hem nothing but pain to read. From him Hugh Tregarthen gathered many itt-le facts regarding the aclressa'a habits— how he had lived out of town, in a vury retired way 'ith an old woman, who died during hcrengn?;n lent ; how she had suddenly left, to every onu's ismay, leaving everything behind her, and not ven claiming the salary due to her. The old man rather liked the telling of all lese bygone tales, and let Hugh Tregarthen look -vcr his faded bills ami yellow old books ivith he utmost complacency. Suddenly the young orniehman came upon his own name — Tregar- en. ' What is this ?' ho asked. j t It was a memorandum of boxes lot in (ho the- j o tre during the- year of Cora's engagement, with r 10 names of the persons who had taken them. ' ' Ah, that was the Englishman,' the old man lid, suddenly, looking at his book. ' Ho tnok I box, and bo killed the gentleman who had s lie one next to it.' | ' Killed him ?' c ' Yes ! They fought — no ono knew what i bout— and the Englishman killed the other ono \ ight, juat outside the city. Then ho went nway.' I Hugh looked at tho record with a strangely 1 eating heart/ ' No. 24,, grand Her, Julius Trcyarthcn.' ( Could it bo possible th:xt his uncU had had i light to do with the disappcarancu (,-f tho dancer t .'hoso child he had married ? i IJo conld find nothing furthor, and rctnrnnd ' o Cora, perplexed and nnconifortablo. Should ) io ever find out anything ? A strange idea pns- ] eased him that he should discover tho secret of I he Tregarthon mystery and tho secret of his j ] rifo's birth at tho same time. j : ' You look worried, dear,' Cora said to him. ' ( Have you discovered anything ?' ' Nothin', save the fact that my uncle Julius ^regarthen was in JJerlin tho year oi j-our uother'a engagement. Suppose you should turn iut to bo my cousin as well as my wife, darling ! Vo should be doubly united then.' ' We couldn't be more so than wo arc. See vhat I have done, Hugh.' ' What, dear V I Uroken my locket — only the glass. Will you ako it to bo mended V ' Yes. Can yon part with it for so long V I 1 must. See, it iacuniing all to pieces. I nustbavo loosened tho rim as well.' Ho took it from her hand, and in handling it he rim came qi: i to oil', lotting tliu miniature fall nto Cora's lap. ' Horo is a piecn of paper behind it,' he said ; : put there to keep it in its place, I suppose.' Ho unfolded it, and suw that, it was covered ?vitli writing, in a cramped, feeble hand. With io small astonishment ho rctid — ' In the belitf that my child may some day have to. prove that she is born in lawful wed lock, 1 write this paper, 1 am Julius Trc ;arthen\s- wife. We were married in the Lu theran chuurch at Spandau, by a clergyman called L'aul I3crgone. It was on the 28th of Dctober, 1837. I write thi-t, and hide it here, because my husband, believing me falsi1, has taken from ine by force the only record of our marriage, and the priest is dead. My child is honestly born. Though appearances were against me, I was true to him. He will know it some day, 1 am going to seek him ; [ know he lives in England. Heaven will point out the place to me, and show me the way to regain my husband's love. If he spurns mp, I will appeal to the law to help me.' The fragment broke off abruptly, as though the writer had been disturbed, or overcome by emotion, and Hugh silently refolded it, his heart beating wildly at the strange words written therein. They went to Spandau, but, alas [there was nothing to be learned there. The very 'name of the clergyman seemed to be forgotten, and the church had been burnt down a dozen years before. 'We may find something at Tregarthen,' Hugh said, hopefully. ' I don't believe I have explored half, the nooks and corners of the old place yet, and Mr. Julius Tregarthen was continually writing, by all accounts. We may find some record of this escapade of his among papers I have overlooked — who knows V At Paris en route for homo, they met Ailie and her husband — the former in such renovated health that she could bear to moot Cora, and make acquaintance with hoi-, though she still persisted in her extraordinary resomblanee to the phantom, er fancy, which had so troubled her at Trognrthen. 1 Harry says ifc must hnvo boon a prevision ef Hugh's marriage.' ? she said, gayly, dandling her boy, ' Perhaps it was, but I hopo I shall never see you look- as that poor creaturo looked — so wild, and worn, and dishevelled ?' A strange thought crossed Hugh that it might bo Cora's mother in tho flesh — not dead, but a wanderer, for some nnexplained cause ; but ho did not utter it. Ho told the major and his wifo of the writing in the locket, and how they wero going to have a thorough search through the house for further evidence. ? I wish you two would come with us,' ho said, ' I should like your help, if Ailie has got over herfeara.' -....,-,?;. 'I havo forgotten I ever had any, .she re plied. ' If tho TrcRarthen air will suit baby, I'm ready to go. So long as no ghosts harm him, they are welcome to prowl ns they choose.' ' Baby' was paramount now j as long, as nothing would injuro him, sho was content to go wh'ero thoy chose. So Major Tor rens, Ailie, the young gentleman who ruled their household went with Hugh and his bride to Tregarthen. A right joyous wel come they received. The people wero glad t» see tho old house open oncornore, and received the dark-hnircd wife of their new lord with I ruo Cornish zeal. 01d,Kanoy Pengclly alone wag reticent of praise or gladness at Cora's ad ' Do you not see it, Mark ? »re you blind P' she asked him, when, the first greetings over, they had retired to Iho privacy of their o wn- room, to rest and ch»t. !???? .' ?.?'??Qeti+tet*--'1'-:1''''1^- :;WI; r',.': ''''?'The new mistress— is it tho dead1 'woman cenv to life again, or is it another spirit— h»a-

ven help us ! — couie to hnunt the place and bring us ill luck? It's her fnce, Mark — her vury face— mid thei brown streak on her] hands too !' 'T Murk said ' Nonsenso !' but ho could not help noticing the strange likeness. All his fears of the supernatural rnnished when his master sent for him and his wife io the library, and told l.im ho had every reason to believe lhat their yotin-r mistress was the child of their dead

master and a French lat'y, and asked him to aid him all ho could in searching for pnprrs, and clcarin' up the mystery of what Mrs. Tor rens had seen. 'My idea is that the poor lady is alivo, and that ili.it these was some mistako about her death.' ha

said, aud Mark opened his round eyes very wido at the idea. ' Lord love you, sir, the woman we buried was dead enough, unless she has got out of her cof fin. It can't be her as walka 1 Your good lady might bo ber come to life again, she's ao liko her.' Ailio gavo up the key of her pt't montrosity, as Hugh called the old cabinet, and they sot to work to wads through the mass nf papers it con tained. Is'ot a lino appeared. to throw any light upon tho strange statement found in Cora's locket — no mention .of wife or child. The cabi net was emptied, and its contents — papers of no canscqucnce — were turned out into tho waste paper basket to be burnt.

J vrisli you joy of it, Ann.', Hugh said, asr they stood regarding it somewhat rut-fully, »s a thing that had promised 'much, only lodccuivo them at last. ' .ft '11 bo beautiful when ita cleaned and var nished,' Ailio declared, ' and all this rough wood planed. Here's a loose bit. Oh, how I have hurt my hand !' ' How, dear ?' ? ' ' With a splinteri Look hero !' The blood was running dowu her white hand from an ugly scratch. 'Break the bit of]', Henry,' said she to her husband, 'or some ono t-lscivill hurt themselves is T have' 'It is a misty ''it,' he said, pulling at- it, ' Why lie thing's coming to pieces !' as, with a snap md a crack, the whole of tho back came out, ?evcaling a space wherein lay books and papers. Look here, If ugh— your work isn't ended yet.' A bundle of letters and a book wore the first lungs that eamo lo Hugh Trcgarlhen's hand, md ho opened them. A hasty glanco at the atter made him turn away from the rest to the :mbrtisurc of the window, and in a few tno nents he passed round to his wife, his lips very ,vhilc with emotion, and placed the record of lis mother's marriage with his uncle in her land. The book was a diary, recording every event jf that briqf time abroad which had wrought so nuch mischief. It told how lie had met the laucor, and married her, and for a time belioved :his lower world to be heaven in his infatuation. Then had come n doubt of her faith — a proof, as !i« buliovoil, of her infidelity — the duel of which [high had heard at JJerlin, and his flight from that city in disgust and horror. There were [litiful, beseeching letters from tliedeserted wife, iddressed to a distant post-office — evidently tho July clue sho had to his residenco- imploring a hearing, -and ollering proof of her innocence, which made ahe tears come into Cora's eyes as sho read them ; and there was a fragment in a tremulous hand, dated the very night of his death— December 24, 18S8 :— ' She has found me, as I feared she might some day. Sho has implored admittance — here, to Tregarthen — the homo that has never yet been sullied by the presence of a wanton. I can, hear her tapping at tho window as I. write, her voice sounds above the thunder, which howls its disapprobation of her presence' here. ' Lonk for dole and wait for woe,' the old Cornish proverb says when wo have thunder storms in winter. What woe is she come to work? lam ill — her presence has upset mo. Will sho dare to proclaim who she is, and make a parndo of her shame to my servants !J My curses light upon her fnl.se 'face? Again! My brain burns — an iron hand is on iny throat! Js it hers? No, for I hear her voice outside si ill. ' Julius— husband— for heaven's sake?' Aye, call on heaven, madam, and if it bo as deaf as I, pou will find small mercy there. I must hide the certificate— she shall not have it, to flaunt hov offspring through the world as a pure, honestly born Trcgnrthon. 'Twill puzzle her to find tho secret of the okl desk.' Ho nnist have thrust tho packet whoro they found it before ho was seized with the mortal illness which boro him off, cruol and unrelenfc-. ing tojjtlie last, Was CoaaBenzonozi guilty or innocent ? Hea ven alono can tell. Her child's tears fell over tho long -hidden record of her misory and blighted bopes. ' Sho shall have a nameless gravo no longer, my darling,' Hugh Trugarthen said to his wife. ' She will bo livid in the Tregarthon vault, and her true name recorded thoro.i ' Uut the slander, Hugh — tho name your undo brands mo with.' ' We won't bolieve it, my darling,' he said, gently. ?' Were it a thousand times true, you arc my wifo.^JUy name, is yours now. Wo will think of her gently, and at this best, as a wronged Duffiiring woman, who expiated all her faults by death. Some day we shall know all. They we're standing in the window, on tho very spot where the wretched wife had died, when Hugh Tregarthen clasped her child to his heart and spoke loving words of her dead mother. Tho moon hud risen, and shono upon Cora's upturned faco, as her rosy lips sought her hushand's in gratilied response for his words. 'Was it fancy, or did flic four who stood thnro see u shadowy form in tho moonlight moving over tho memorable spots Not wan and dis hevelled now, but calm and still, with a face of petico. It might sayo boon fancy, but they drew closer together- instinctively us they gazed at tho figure, as faint in its ouiliuo as that of the Whito Lady of A venal. As they looked it faded, and Ihey saw nothing but the moonlight trees, and Iho gleaming sea below them, and the gentlemen rnn for lights,' nud talked of the effects of light and shnde, and tho wonderful pranks played by immaginatiou ; ).but Ailio declared she had neon tho woman' of 'her former visions, and Cora, deep down in her heart, believed thnt her mother's luce had looked upon her with a welcoming smile. It may bo that ' there are more things in heaven and earth than aro dreamed of in our philosophy.' No one can fathom tho secrets of tho unseen world ; (hey serve for stories by tho Christmas lire, and the old dumes on the Cornish seaboard love to tell tho talc of Julius IVe Rarlhcn's curious will, nud to revert, with bated breath, to tho episode of tho denizn of tho spirit land 'who came unbidden to Tregnrthon's Tryst. ' '