JAN. 26 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
fittrarjr lltwtUimg, 
ANNI FUGACES. 
Oh, pilfering: year*, whoso flugors light 
O'er form and feature play. 
And, half in frolic, half in spite, 
Bear every grace away; 
Heed not this foolish burst of tears, 
Your silout task f ulfll •, 
Yet let me keep, O gentle years. 
My Heart's fresh impulse still. 
Yes, quench the love.light from the eye, 
And thin the clustering hair; 
I yield to thee, with Just a sigh. 
Whatever charm was there. 
But, oh ! the fervor and the truth, 
The strength to do and will, 
The pure, unsullied heart of youth, 
Kind robbers, leave me still. 
[Frederick Lanybridge. 
—--- 
HER MOTHER’S SECRET, 
[Continued from page 45.] 
“My mother's name," she answered, overcome 
by his manner,’ was Alice Estcourt] her old 
lover, Mnton; ttDd the man who married her 
called himself Arthur Mortimer.” 
“Arthur Mortimer Tresslder?” he said, with a 
groan “ I am your wretched father! Oh, what a 
tale of shame and woe must now come before the 
world I My rblld!” 
lie held out his handB, but his sight failed 
him, and he fell rorward, with a deep groan in a 
flt. 
Edith rang the bell, and then, despite her 
agony at the words which had escaped her 
father, she stooped and began unfastening his 
cravat. 
When the servants came in, she hade them 
summou Lady Tresseder at once, as their master 
was 111, 
She hastened to come with Royston and a 
doctor, who was among her usual morning visi¬ 
tors. 
“ A slight attack of apoplexy,” said the medi¬ 
cal man; “ let him be put to bed at once, and I 
will see what is to be done.” 
CHAPTER X. 
The sIck-Bed. 
Edith went away stunned and horritled. This, 
then, was the man who had deceived and bet- 
rayed her mother. It not only must be so, but he 
must have been married at the time, as Blanche 
was the same age with herself. 
And the noble-looklug man, so kind and gen¬ 
erous, so sweetly fatherly to her, was, Indeed, 
lior parent, and yet Bho was doomed to hate 
him. 
But not while ho was sick—almost dying. 
Him waited with welling tears, bated breath 
and deep anxiety for news. She was on her 
knees. 
Meanwhile all had been done for Sir Arthur 
that could he done, and after the remedies had 
been applied, the physician expressed an opinion 
that lie would do well. lie had a very excellent 
constitution, and they were of opinion he had re¬ 
ceived a sudden shock or surprise, 
“ 1 have no doubt of It,” said l.ady Tresslder, 
with a strange smile. 
A nurse had been sent by one of the medical 
men, aud she was to remain up all night with the 
sick man. 
Royston would remain smoking in the library, 
to be within call. 
Lady Tresslder Intimated her Intention of lying 
down In her clothes. 
Dinner was announced, and as one must go 
through the duty In times ot sickness, and death, 
every one Joined the table, except Edith. 
Royston, however, gravely sent fur her, and as 
iie might In a few hours be master, neither of the 
ladles dared Interfere. But theli satisfaction was 
unbounded when a message came tnat she was 
altogether too 111 to come down, but would take 
a cup of tea In her bedroom. 
“ Won’t some one see her?” asked Royston. 
“ After dinner,” was the cold reply. 
But after dinner Royston sent up ft note by a 
maid, and begged Edith to corno down to the li¬ 
brary for half an hour. He would not detain her 
longer. Edith came, looking very 111, with tear¬ 
ful eyes and swollen cheeks. 
“ My darling, what Is the matter?” hi8 said, ca¬ 
ressingly. Has your illness auy thing to do with 
roy uncle's sudden attack ?” 
“Yes; something 1 told him,” she faltered, 
“ gave him a great shock, and made him 111. But 
I oaunot, without his permission, repeat a word 
of it. He Is better ?" she gasped. 
"Oh, yes; and will, 1 believe, get quite well,” 
he answered. And so, lu talk, more than half an 
hour passed away. 
While they were yet talking, the butler enter¬ 
ed, and Informed them that sir Arther was quite 
calm and collected, and wished to see him alone. 
“I wLll come at once,” said Royston. 
“Oh, my lost love!" said Edith. "Now you 
will know all, and we shall be parted for ever! 
But go ask me no questions I" 
And Royston was obliged to be satisfied with 
this, as he could not keep his uncle waiting. 
lie went to the room, aud found his uncle to 
all appearance alone. Ho had sent away the 
nurse. 
“ Close the door,” ho said. In a low tone; “ and 
then give me a cordial. 1 must not say much. But 
now rasten the door. Wo must keep the foarful 
secret as long as possible." 
“Uncle,”said Royston, kindly, “you are agi¬ 
tating yourself. Walt until the doctor comes.” 
“No; right must be done,” he insisted: “and 
I want you to do It. So now you must start for 
Longmead, and make certain researches, if what 
Edith told me can be substantiated, she Is my 
only daughter and heiress l” 
“GreatHeaven!” cried Royston. 
“ Yes, It Is wonderful. But the wrong, if there 
was one, was no doing of mine,” ho went on. “ I 
have been deceived." 
“ But as her mother only died six months ago, 
what about Lady Tresslder ?” urged Royston. 
"My supposed present wife is simply Widow 
Baker," groaned the crushed man, “ and I am a 
bigamist! How is the poor girl ?” 
“ Utterly overcome,” he answered. " Evidently 
she looks at things from the dark side.” 
“I fancy,” the other answered, “she has 
nothing to fear. If Mrs. Marshall can be identi¬ 
fied with Alice Estcourt, there Is an end of the 
matter. If I live, I can prove the Identity of 
Arthur Mortimer with Arthur Mortimer Tressl¬ 
der. Besides-” 
“ But what do you want mo to do now ?” asked 
his nephew. 
“Take down the names of a few places—the 
place where we were married, the place where 
we lived; theft visit the doctor ai, Longmead, to 
whom she told all, and who signed her state¬ 
ment," he went on again, sipping his cordial. 
“ Then come back, aud I will tell you what to 
do.” 
“Everything shall be as you say,” was the 
nephew’s reply. “ Edith, my cousin 1” 
"Aud my heiress," the other went on; “you 
will have only the entailed estates.” 
“And her, more precious than all!" answered 
Royston. 
“ I hope so, my dear boy. Now send back the 
nurse, and I will sleep.” said the Baronet. 
The nephew hurried away, and had scarcely 
gone ten steps when a ghastly figure came from 
t,he head of the bed. It was Lady Tresslder. 
she crept out of the room with extreme caution, 
and going along the passage, entered Edith's 
room. She rose hastily, as the mistress or the 
house entered. 
“Is anything the matter? Is Sir Arthur 
worse ?” she gasped. 
« Your father Is better," was the cold response. 
“Be not astonished, girl. I know that this dis¬ 
graceful discovery has been mado. 
“ How can you know It?” faintly said Edith. 
A no matter—I know It, Either you are the off¬ 
spring of a wicked Intrigue between my husband 
and some other woman, and then you have no 
right to remain an hour in my house,” she went on 
pitilessly; “or you are his lawful daughter—In 
which case I shall leave the house to prefer a 
charge for bigamy!” 
Edith shuddered. 
“Fancy Ills honored name bandied through the 
streets!" she said with a hollow laugh. “But 
he married me with a wire and child living, ne 
will be sent to prison for seven years—a pretty 
ending ror Sir'Arthur Mortimer Tresslder 1” 
Edith did not hesltatu one moment, in either 
case, her presence. In the house was not right. 
For her own part, she saw no likelihood of her 
mother’s marriage proving legal. How could the 
matter be proved after all t hese years?” 
“ I will go at once,” said Edith, quietly, “ and 
you shall not hear of me again! Let one of the 
maids call a cab, while I pack up.” 
Her luggage was put Into a vehicle while Roys¬ 
ton Binoked in the library. 
She had plenty of money, and she bade the 
cabman drive to a respectable quiet hotel near 
the railway station. There was no name on her 
boxes, and she gave the name of Estcourt, 
Meanwhile Lady Tresslder had gone to her 
daughter’s bedroom. 
“ Girl,” hissed the mother, “we must he up and 
doing. If your rather lives, we are ruined! 
Edith Is your elder sister and the only legitimate 
heir to Sir Arthur. Let her right be proved, and 
we are outcasts. You know how,your father loves 
us!” 
CHAPTER XI, 
Twelve Events. 
When, next morning, Royston entered his 
uncle’s room, ho found that gentleman very calm 
and collected. He hud enjoyed a good night’s 
rest. 
“ Well, Royston, my boy,” he said. In quite a 
cheerful tone, “ are you quite ready to go ?" 
“ Yes, uncle, answered the young man; “hut, 
before I leave, I must convey to you some rather 
unpleasant Intelligence. Miss Edith has left the 
house.” 
“What can It moan?” exclaimed the Baronet, 
In a tone ot deep irritability. “She must be 
found. How did It happen ?” 
“Well, sir, I have held a strict Investigation, 
and by threatening the household In your name, 
have learned part of the truth,” he said. “ It Is 
not pleasant,” he added, in a hesitating kind of 
way. 
"TeU me all. Time is everything!” cried the 
other. 
“Just as I left you, Lady Tresslder was seen to 
leave your bedroom, whence she went to Miss 
Marshall’s,” ho continued; “then my aunt went 
down and ordered the cab to be sent for, in which 
she shortly after wont away." 
,ju"Send a messenger to Linton’s at once,” said 
the Baronet, anxiously ; “ probably she has gone 
there 1" 
The man took a cab, with a note from Royston, 
but no tidings had been heard of her. Most likely 
his young friend would write. 
“ Go," said the Baronet, sternly, “ and let right 
be done. Satisfy me that Edith la my child, an^ 
I will publicly own her, come what may. Be not 
long gone; spare neither trouble nor expense.” 
“ Leave all to me,” replied Royston, and hur¬ 
ried out without seeking an Interview with either 
aunt or cousin. Ho need not have troubled lilm- 
self; they were out. 
When they returned, they asked for Royston 
Yorke, and found that he had taken his depart¬ 
ure. 
The two eminent doctors who came twice a 
day had, on the second occasion, an Interview 
with Lady Tresslder, who was very anxious. 
While they sipped their wine, the question was 
discussed. 
“Then he Is progreasing well?" she said, after 
they had made a favorable report. 
“Yes, my lady,” replied one. “Unless some¬ 
thing very unexpected happens, he will be up 
and doing as well as ever In a week. His consti¬ 
tution Is excellent.” 
" That Is good news," was tbe reply. 
“ She seems really anxious about hor husband,” 
snld one of the doctors, as they went down stairs. 
“ I did not think It of her." 
“His death would make Royston Yorke the 
Baronet,” answered his friend, drily. 
“ Something In that," remarked the other. 
Lady Tresslder entered her boudoir, and sent 
for Blanche. She was very pale and haggard, 
some might have thought from sorrow, while 
keener physiognomists might have suggested 
fear. Blanche entered, looking weary and 
anxious. 
“ How will It all end?" she said pettishly. 
“ If your father lives, badly for us. As things 
stand at present, I have a rich Jointure, my own 
fortune setr.led on me—on you after my death, 
while Sir Arthur has left you a rich legacy. I 
have seen his will, and since he knew that Roy- 
ston would not marry you, he has added some 
more, showing mo the will. But If this woman 
steps In, wc are lost; the will Is null and void." 
“ But surely my father would not let me fall In¬ 
to poverty?” pettishly cried Blanche. 
“ lie is not your father.” she answered, in a 
low, hushed whisper. “ You were born one year 
bpfore wc were married. My first husband was 
your parent. You are two years older than you 
chink.” 
“Why this cruel deceit?” huskily asked the 
girl, utterly crushed and overcome. 
“Your father and I were traveling In Rome 
when he was killed by an accident. 1 had a 
young baby, but I kept It out or sight. I met 
Sir Arthur, who was fretting himself to death 
about the death of his first wife, he told me, 
“Somo one had told him that she had eloped 
with a certain major; but that person being 
found, proved that ho had been employed by the 
then Baronet to make believe with the girl that 
she was not his wife ; that, maddened by this 
discovery, she had escaped to the river and 
drowned herself. 
«* The Baronet was susceptible; I was an Inter¬ 
esting young widow, and obtained unlimited 
powet over him. We were married, and traveled 
about tor years. 
“ When we took you from a school, I persuaded 
1 dm, as we had no children, to adopt you as his 
heiress. 
“ To a certain extent, he did ; but never gave 
you out as his child. He aUowed the Inference 
to be arawn." 
" Then 1 have the honor to be Blanche Baker!” 
said the girl, with savage bitterness. 
“ Inless we can crush this girl,” was the sav¬ 
age response. 
“ How Is that to he done ?” asked the girl. “Do 
you expect me to slay or poison her 7" 
“ You might do worse,” was the response whis¬ 
pered In her ear. “ But here is a man who has a 
formidable attack of apoplexy, who was consid¬ 
ered dying. We stand on the verge of ruin. No 
one can prove the Identity of the two women ot 
different names but sir Arthur. He will, li he 
recovers, do so.” 
“ What then ?” asked Blanche, gloomily. 
•* He must die 1” was the answer of this modern 
Borgia, speaking In a hollow tone. 
“Mother,” said the girl, after some reflection. 
"I understand many things that I did not before. 
If Sir Arthur has not shown me the deep affec¬ 
tion of a parent, he has treated me well and 
kindly. I will do nothing against him. If he 
dies, well and good ; but 1 will have no hand In 
it." 
“ You would betray me ?” gasped the mother. 
“ No ; only let me know nothing, and then I 
cannot speak," was her answer. 
With which she walked away. 
Lady Tresslder looked at her tor a few minutes 
In silent contempt, and theii followed. 
Not another word did she say of the project 
which she had ventured to unfold. She kept It 
wli liln her seething aud teaming brain. But she 
was determined not to fall from such a hlght 
without a struggle. 
The day passed slowly. Many called, but no 
one was admitted except the doctor. Mr. Un¬ 
ion sent round to say that he had heard no’tid¬ 
ings of Edith, hut he had privately issued a de¬ 
scription of her to every police-station and offered 
a considerable reward. 
As soon as Sir Arthur was well enough, he 
would pay his respects. Ho was very anxious to 
know why Ma lemotsello Marechale had left, and 
hoped there was no fault on her side. 
When this message arrived, the Intimate fam¬ 
ily physician. Dr. Wilcox, was In the house, and 
sir Arthur got him to write these lines: 
“Dear Linton:— The poor girl left under a 
very sad misapprehension, which 1 will explain 
when l see you. A. M. tkkssidkr.” 
One of the servants sat with the Baronet while 
the nurse took her meals and got a little sleep. 
She camo on again at eleven, when, If need bo, 
she slumbered In her cosy arm-chair. She was a 
very excellent woman as nurses go, and only 
gave way to slumber when compelled by utter 
exhaustion. 
This woman, sent by the doctor, was, In a word, 
shruwd and faithful. She saw that the Baronet 
was comfortable, smoothed hla pillow, gave him 
ills dose, and then composed herself. 
“ It I Hhould dose off Just a little, sir," she said, 
respectfully, •• just pull that white cord"—she had 
tied It to the head of tbe bed and to her own arm 
—“ and I’ll he up lu a minute." 
" Very good,” said the sick man, and closed his 
eyes In search of much-needed Bleep. 
No sound was heard but tbe ticking of the 
watch on the table, of the breathing of the nurse, 
and Sir l rthur prepared lor slumber, There was 
an anodyne in his draught, and he would proba¬ 
bly- sleep sound. 
He dozed, and then went off, as she believed, 
Into a deep, sound slumber. Then he dreamed; 
yes, dreamed, oddly enough, that he was In the 
same room, but rat her under somewhat changed 
circumstances. 
The nurse appeared to have disappeared, and 
another woman had taken her plaoe. She 
was taller, and dressed in white, and moved 
aloDg the floor without making the slightest 
sound. 
Then she leaned over a chair, and he knew It 
was that In which the real nurse slept. 
Then she gazed at the bed with a fixed glance. 
Her eyes were like coals of fire, and a steam 
seemed to come from her mouth. 
“Her hair was perfectly dishevelled, and from 
her bosom sbe took sometblDg—a bottle. 
This she held over a small glass on the table 
—a glass from which he usually drank—and into 
this she dropped—something. 
Then she turned and fled noiselessly away,with 
a wUlte, scared face and quivering Ups. 
Then .sir Arthur Mortimer Tresslder knew that 
ho was awake, and bad seen his wjfe. * 
“ Wretched woman!” he said to himself; “she 
somehow knows all, and wants to poison me be¬ 
fore I can prove tbe rlgbtsof my child. Heavens! 
if she were to succeed I could never do justice to 
my poor Alice, murdered by my cruel father. And 
yet It is a temptation. Well, It must he thwart¬ 
ed." 
A nd he pulled the string, at once awakening the 
vigilant nurse. 
“ Anything the matter, sir?” she cried. 
“ Oh, no ; only I cannot sleep, and It Is nearly 
my time lor another dose,” he said. “ Nurse,” 
he added. “ you are a discreet person, and will 
allow me to do What I wish without asking ques¬ 
tions. Put the glass In the cupboard at the head 
ot my bed. Just as it Is, and glVB mo tbekBy.” 
The woman started, but obeyed, noticing as 
she did so, there was sediment In the glass. 
She selected a clean glass, rinsed It, and gave 
the Baronet his medicine. 
Shortly after he slept, nor waked until dawn. 
He was calm aud collected, but stern beyond his 
usual manner. When Doctor Wilcox came, the 
medical man saw the Baronet was agitated. 
“Send Che nurse away,” said Sir Arthur, “and 
now rasten the door. You have done so? Well, 
take this key, and take a glass from out the cup¬ 
board there—my medicine glass." 
Wondering excessively, the physician obeyed, 
and brought the glass out. 
“ Don't waste that," the Baronet went on, sar¬ 
castically ; "don’t waste a single drop, but when 
you go home test It for poison, and let me know 
how many doses it would take to kill me.” 
“ My dear friend-” began the physician. 
“ Come back at lour o’clock,” said the Baronet, 
querulously; “and then we will talk about the 
matter. I have much to say." 
The doctor saw to him, gave the nurse some 
fresh Instructions, one of which was at his own 
request, that he should not be disturbed under 
any pretence whatever, even by his own wife 
This excited no comment, as It is very usual to 
be excessively cautious lu such cases. 
At tour he returned, with a very white and 
serious face, which made Iho Baronet smile. 
“ Was I right, Wilcox? la there a prisoner In 
the house?" he asked, 
•• There Is ! Four doses taken four consecutive 
nights would have killed you, and left no trace 
under the circumstances," he replied, solemnly; 
•• but, In the name ot Heavon, how did you dis¬ 
cover It?" 
“ I saw It done,” was the reply; “and bade the 
nurse, whom I awakened, put It under lock and 
key.” 
“ But, my dear friend, do you Intend to do 
nothing?” said the doctor; “It Is your bounden 
duty." 
“ 1 shall do nothing until the time comes,” was 
his sorrowful reply. “The fact Is, there Is a 
great domestic tragedy going on in this house. 
If I recover, there will be great changes ; hut I 
want all my Intellect and thought to do Justice. 
But now I am only on my guard 1 shall know 
what to do.” 
“But will you not warn che evil-door?” said 
the doctor; “It should be done." 
“ 1 wish to have the evil-doer wholly In my 
power,” was the sad reply; •* It may save much 
trouble." 
As the master of the house was obstinate, and 
could not be controlled, Wilcox yielded, but took 
the precaution to put a powerful antidote In bis 
sleeping draught. 
That evening, the nurse still fast, asleep, and 
the sick man awske, but pretending slumber, the 
awful vision of the night before again appeared, 
and the same performance went on over again. 
Once more the small glass was locked up, and 
this went on for four nights more. 
Doctor Wilcox affected to believe sir Arthur 
