fittrarg Ulisrtllatig. 
PROVEN. 
My love spurred over the mountain skle, 
And “ O for an adamant wall!" be cried. 
" Whose summit that uppermost star should hide; 
Straight over its terrible hiiflit I’d ride, 
For my heart is Kladsome and yonusr and strong-. 
And never a barrier could stay me long 
With this lovo my soul o’erflowing.” 
My love rode down to the broad sea side, 
All down to the kiss of the onward tide.— 
A kiss like the kiss of a toying bride; 
And, ** O for a mystical sea!" he cried, 
" Whore the waves should clamor like beasts of 
prey; 
For I by this love could their fierceness stay 
With never a tremor showing.” 
My love he caino to my waiting side, 
And his broad arms offered a haven wide. 
So I launched my lifo on Its beating tide, 
Fearing no evil with him for a guide; 
A little star touching the disk of the sun. 
And the moon looked down on the hearts made one 
With passionate love o’erflowing. 
My love was brought to a mountain side. 
Where the way was weary and rough and wide; 
And “ O't is a perilous road!’’ he cried; 
"Push on ! fora woman may safely ride; 
And I at the foot till you come again 
Will wait in the levelling autumn rain, 
Or harvest the springtime’s sowing." 
My love was brought to a broad sea side 
Where the waves grew higher at every tide; 
And " Sail as’t were Heaven you sought!’’ he cried. 
“ For God shall a woman most safely guide; 
And I will pray as never before,— 
Will wait and pray on the desolate shore. 
Where the oold fierce winds are blowing." 
My lovo was laid at my weary side; 
And’t was ’’ O for a surer hope 1 ’’ he cried; 
And my poor weak love on my bosom died. 
Alone I had passed tip Grief’s mountain side, 
Aioue had ferried Sin’s faoming tide; 
And over it all God made luo brave, 
Yet under it all my heart would crave 
A lovo who should share the going, 
Boston Transcript. 
THE MARKED HAND. 
“ Is this the lost stoppage, guard ?” 
"The very last, Miss. We shall have a long 
run of two hours now before we reach Ohenworth 
—no more disturbances of any kind; so just take 
my advice—make yourself comfortable, and have 
a good nap, I wish you pleasant dreamsand 
the old guard nodded good-naturedly, as he 
locked melu. 
I was glad to be alone at last. It had been very 
pleasant during the early part or the Journey to 
observe the faces and manners of my fellow- 
passengers ; but now they had all got out, and 
I felt quite prepared to take the guard's good 
advice. 
It wasa comfortable first-class carriage, with 
the usual two divisions on each side, and lighted 
up on this dark December afternoon by a dlmly- 
fltckei lng oil-lamp. I took off my hat, stretched 
my feet across to the opposite Bide, and, closing 
my eyes,[begun to think a little. First of all my 
thoughts took a retrospective view—back to the 
little parsonage on the green hillside, to the pa¬ 
tient, hard-working father with the Incessant 
cough, which ended at last In a quiet grave under 
the yew-tree, to the gentle widow-mother who 
followed hint after a few months of hard strug¬ 
gling with poverty and sickness—next to stirring 
memories of nappy school-days, and then to the 
monotonous life wtth two old aunts on the wild 
Yorkshire moors, and Unallyto Reggle'B appear¬ 
ance on the scene, which changed the wholo 
course of my existence. 
1 was on iny way to spend Christmas with Reg¬ 
inald’s family. It was my first visit to them, and 
I felt nervous about ID for two reasons—first, be¬ 
cause 1 had been so unaccustomed to visiting, 
and, secondly, because It, is always trying lor a 
girl to go amongst her new relatives for the first 
tuna. However, from all Reggie had told me, 
about mine, and from their kind letters to me, I 
felt convinced that there was really not much to 
fear. 
At about this time In my reflections the border¬ 
land between waking and sleeping melted away 
and 1 found myself in a dream. The place was a 
church, the subject a wedding, the parties con¬ 
cerned were Reginald and myself. I had a hazy 
Idea of light dresses and bright faces, and there 
was a feeling of great happiness in my heart; 
but nothlDg was very distinct till I heard the 
words, "Those whom God hath joined together 
let no man put asunder," aud then—then I knew 
that something had come between Reggie and 
me. it was a hand, a woman’s hand, peculiarly 
white, long and thin, with a bright red mark 
reaching from the wrist to the knuckle or the 
middle finger. I remember In my excitement 
striving in vain to push It away and to reach 
Reggie on the other side, l remember glancing 
down at my bridal dress and seeing It changed to 
one of deep mourning; and then with a sharp 
cry of pain I awoke. 
I awoke—but I did not experience that feeling 
of relief which generally follows on waking from 
an unpleasant dream. Something was still 
weighing on [me. I sat up and looked about. I 
knew from the Inky blackness outside and from 
the peculiar sound of the train that It was now 
: passing through a tunnel. The flickering light 
of the lamp tell on the seat In tlio opposite cor¬ 
ner of the carriage. In that seat sat a figure— 
the figure of a woman dressed In dark domes and 
very much muffled up. She ware a thick black 
veil over her face, and she sat bolt-upright, as 
still as if she had been a statue or a ghost. I 
looked farther, and perceived a small traveling- 
bag by her side; that relieved me. Ghosts do not 
usually travel with luggage. She must be a hu¬ 
man being after all. But how had sho got In ? 
How hud she crossed over me without waking 
me f Why did she sit In that peculiar position ? 
All these questions puzzled me, but I saw no way 
of solving them just yet. I was arrald to speak, 
so 1 could only sit still and wale, my eyes fixed 
r wltu a sort or fascination on the strange figure 
opposite to me. 
I glanced at, my watch; It wanted half an hour 
to the time when we should reach Chenwortb. 
She must show her ticket there, and I should at 
least see her move. The time seemed very long 
till the train began to slacken Its speed, and I 
knew we were drawing up to the ticket-platform. 
I got mine out that I might have leisure to ob¬ 
serve my fellow-traveler. Our carriage was near 
the end of the train, and I was growing more Im¬ 
patient every minute. In time however the man 
appeared at our door, holding the small lantern 
usual on such occasions. 1 handed my ticket at 
once; my companion was some time in producing 
hers, and, when she did so. a corner of her cloak 
fell back and displayed her left hand. Tt was un¬ 
gloved, peculiarly white, long and thin, with a 
deep red mark reaching from the wrist to the 
knuckle of the middle finger—In short, the hand 
or my dream! 
1 cannot describe what I felt then; a cold chill 
seemed to run through me, and a feeling of faint¬ 
ness crept over me, so that I was thank tul Indeed 
when the train reached the station. My fellow- 
traveler got out. and I heard the welcome sound 
of Reggie’s voice. 
“ Why, Nell, how cold you are! You’re frozen 
to death, child; yet you seem pretty well wrap¬ 
ped up. Had you a foot-warmer ?" 
“ Year—1 felt chilly only just now. But stay, 
Reggie. While you are looking arter my luggage 
I want to speak a word to the guard. There are 
two trunks aud a small tin bonnet-box; you will 
find them marked In full. I shall be back In a 
minute." I pushed through the crowd to where I 
saw the guard standing, and touched him on the 
shoulder. “Guard.” 
He turned round sharply. 
“Did the train stop between Lodeford and 
Chenwortb i” 
* OH, yes 1 The engine wanted water, so we 
were obliged to stop at a little station rather 
more than half-way between. You must have 
been very fast asleep not to notice It." 
“ So 1 was. Did any one get In ?” 
“ Yes; strangely enough, there was one passen¬ 
ger—a lady." 
“Thank you—that Is aU I wanted to know. 
Good night.” 
As I threaded my way back to Reggie and the 
luggage I rapidly strung events together and 
came to a conclusion. The lady, in getting in, 
must have gently moved my reet In order to reach 
the other side of the carriage. This no doubt par¬ 
tially roused me. I probably half-opened my 
eyes, caught sight of the hand that was touching 
me, and so mingled It wlili my dreams. Much re¬ 
lieved by this reflection, I was able to enjoy the 
drive home with Reggie; but I did not say any¬ 
thing of my adventure. 
Cedevllle Manor Is a fine old family mansion. 
It looked stately and cold on that dark winter 
day, standing amidst the snow-covered walks and 
bare leafless trees; but I soon found the cold 
Stateliness was all on the outside. 
Inside were warmth and light, bright faces and 
merry voices. My welcome was even more affec¬ 
tionate than I had dared to hope. I was passed 
from one to anot her to be kissed and caressed, rill 
Lady Cedevllle herself finally carried me oil to 
my room, and left, me In peace to dress for dinner. 
When that operation was performed, I heard a 
light tap at my door, and on opening It, round the 
youngest of my new sisters-ln-law, Louise. She 
was as sweet a girl as bright eyes, llowtug curls, 
and a warm heart could make her. When wo 
went, down-stalrs, I had leisure to observe the 
rest of the family. 
There were Lady Cedevllle, tall and dignified 
but wtth a kind, motherly manner; Mint tea, her 
eldest daughter, also tall and dignified, engaged 
to the fair-haired young Captain leaning over her 
chair; Marian, the second, gentle and fragile, sel¬ 
dom off the couch; and Louise, already described, 
not long emerged from the school-room. Of the 
sons I thought Sir Henry, the eldest, rather stern 
in manner, but very polite, and particularly at¬ 
tentive to his mother. Frank, the second son, 
was away at sea; and Reggie, tho youngest, with 
curling brown hair and eyes to match, sensible 
about most things, but Infatuated on ono point, 
need not be more minutely described. 
I spent a very pleasant evening, and that night 
enjoyed the dreamless sleep of good health and a ] 
light heart. i 
The next morning Louise came down to break¬ 
fast with a very doleful face and a pair of very i 
red, swollen hands. < 
“ 1 don’t know how it Is,” sho said, holding them i 
up to view, “ that my hands get so much redder 
than any one else’s. I have triad glycerine, chli- t 
blaln ointment, and all the rest of It, but without 
resultr-on the first frosty day I am Just as bad as 1 
ever. Cau uo one suggest any oure7" \ 
We all sympathised with her, and many sug- i 
gestlons were made, all of which Louise promised 
to try In turn. 
narrow room smelling strongly of dust and mold- 
lness. 
[ “ By the way,” said Captain Lewis—Minnie’s 
J Intended—“ what became of that governess of 
yours, Louise, that I met here last year? She 
had the whitest hands I haye ever seen—almost 
1 too much so. in fact. Where is she now ?” 
I noticed a sudden silence fall over the party at 
’ this question. J noticed Loulso grow a shade 
paler; and every one looked fidgety till Lady 
Cedevllle came to the rescue by saying— 
“Sheleft us at midsummer; Louise had quite 
’ grown out of the school-room by that time.” 
Then the conversation turned upon other topics 
; —but Louise spoke no more, and seemed to have 
suddenly lost, her appetite. 
After breakfast she offered to show me over 
' the house. Tho last room we came to was long, 
( low, and pleasant-looklng, with book-cases all 
round It and a bright fire In the grate. Louise 
drew me In and shut the door. 
“Come In, Nellie," she said. “This Is my old 
school-room. It Is called the library now; but 1 
" Rke the old name, and I love the room better than 
any in the house.” 
She placed an arm-chair by the fire for me, and 
threw herself on to the rug at my feet. From 
talking of the school-room we went on to school¬ 
days. I told her some stories of mine, and asked 
her how she had liked hers. To iny surprise and 
sorrow, the only answer was a sudden burst of 
tears; and then the story came out at Intervals 
and through the sobs. 
“ Did you notice, Nellie, how queer we all look¬ 
ed this morning when Arthur asked that ques¬ 
tion about my governess ?” 
"Yes. I noticed, dear; but don't tell me any¬ 
thing that distresses you." 
“ No, It won’t distress me, Nellie. I should like 
to tell you, as you are to be my sister. Listen, 
then. Miss King was her name—iny governess; 
but she was nor. like a governess, Nellie—she was 
more a dear friend, an elder sister. I cannot teU 
you how fond I was of her. Very few people In 
the world came before her In my affections; she 
understood me so thoroughly, and was so gentle 
aud patient with aU my faults. She had had a 
great deal of trouble la her life, and that made 
her depressed in spirits, and quite strange In her 
manner at times. We thought nothing of It at 
first, but oi late years It Increased so much that 
mamma consulted the doctor, and then, Nellie, 
the truth came out—she was going out of her 
mind! We did all we could. She was sent away for 
along holiday, surrounded by everything bright 
and pleasant, and came back again apparently 
quite restored. But about the time or Reggie's 
engagement she broke out again far worse than 
ever; and,” added Louise, suddenly kneeling and 
taking hold of my hand, “ her madness took a cu¬ 
rious form, Nellie. It was love for Reggie.” 
I felt a queer shiver run through ms at this 
point, but 1 made Louise go on and tell me all. 
“ Well, It was the day Reggie wrote to tell us 
about you. Mamma read the letter out at the 
Breakfast table. We were, of course, In great ex¬ 
citement. when, In the midst of our talking and 
laughing, l saw Miss King suddenly turn as white 
as death and leave the room. 1 followed her up¬ 
stairs. She locked herself Into her room, and I 
could hear her pacing up and down, and saying, 
In a voice that makes me shudder even now, 1 He 
shail never marry—never, never, never, while I 
live 1' There she remaiued the whole day, refus¬ 
ing to open the door or to take any food. Towards 
evening the sounds ceased. We forced open the 
door, and found her lying in a dead swoon on tho 
ground. From that hour she was raging mad. 
They took her away soon after, and she Is now 
confined In a lunatic asylum not far from this. 
No hope Is given of her recovery—aud oh, Nellie, 
how 1 loved her! ” 
The sobs came thick and fast now, and I let the 
poor child cry, not liking her the less for the 
wurru, faithful heart which prompted such tears. 
After that the days sped by swiftly aud pleas¬ 
antly. I never was so happy In my life. To see 
Reggie, to be with him aU day aud every day was 
enough In Itself to account for it; but, besides 
this, nothing could exceed the kindness of the 
whole family, especially Louise, who became 
almost more thau a sister to me. Christmas Eve 
drew on, and a large party of friends and rela¬ 
tives were Invited for the occasion. In the course 
of the evening the conversation turned on ghosts. 
AU were expressing their opinions, some utterly 
scouting the idea of their existence, others de¬ 
claring, with a little affected shudder, that they 
“ really halt believed In them." 1 did not Join in 
the conversation, though I noticed Reggie otten 
looking half-expectantly In my direction. At last 
he quietly left his seat aud took one next to me, 
and, when the conversation was at the loudest, 
he said, In an undertone: 
“ Nellie, do you believe In ghosts ? 
“ Why do you ask, Reggie 7” 
“Because," he said, "there Is a legend in the 
Cedevllle ramlly that, If anything extraordinary 
is to happen to any member of it In the course oi 
the year, a ghost appears on Christmas Eve. The ! 
place of Its appearance la an old gallery hung ! 
with ancestral portraits at the top of the house. 1 
Now I do not lu the smaUest degree believe In the 1 
legend, but still I have a fancy, a strange fancy, 1 
to pay a visit to my ancestors every Christmas 1 
Eve. No one tntho house knows of this habit— I 
they would only mock at tt If they did ; so hlth- i 
erto l have always gone alone. This evening I £ 
want you to come with me. Will you, Nellie 7 " t 
“ 1 will go,” 1 answered, looking into his brown 1 
eyes. 
An hour or two later I found myself following • 
Reggie up curious winding stalls to an out-of-the- - 
way back part of the house where 1 had never V 
been before. Presently we reached a long, high, y 
8 “ Here we are,” said my guide, holding the can- 
f die high that I might have a good view. “No 
e ghost yet. Allow me to introduce you to my 
t ancestors;” and he began explaining the curious 
old portraits of all ages and lu all varieties of 
t custumea. 
g Suddenly, as I was gazing at ono old lady with 
f tower-Uke headgear and a waist In close proxim¬ 
ity to her arms, 1 felt my wrist grasped by Reg- 
3 gle. I turned quickly. He held the candle on a 
level with his face, and I could see that It was 
9 ghastly pale, while his eyes were fixed with an 
3 expression of wild fear on some object at the 
other end of the gallery. At the same moment a 
r cold blast from tho open door sweeping In blew 
out the light, and we were left In total darkness 
j —only for an Instant though. As our eyes be- 
5 ca me accustomed to It, we could distinguish a 
faint bluish light at the far end of the room, and 
j la the very midst of the light stood the tall whl.e 
[ figure of a woman. She was motionless as a 
, statue, her left hand was stretched out, and the 
first finger pointed toward Reggie. 
I For a moment I thought I must have sunk to 
, the ground as my eyes fell on that hand. I knew 
. it so well—long, thin aud very white, with a deep 
L red mark right across It—again, most unmistak- 
l abI Y. f be hand of my dream! For about three 
. minutes she stood so; and then, as It seemed, 
t noiselessly disappeared. After she had gone, we 
remained as if rooted to the spot, till the firm 
conviction that was tugging at my heart broke 
forth in passionate words: 
'• Reggie, that Is no ghost.no spirit! It is a 
woman—a living woman! I havo seen her be¬ 
fore—I know i nave 1” 
In my excitement I would have pressed for¬ 
ward, in spite of the total darkness, to the spot 
where she had stood, but Reggie held me back. 
“ It would be uselesi now, Nellie,” he said—and 
his voice sounded bo arse aud broken. “ Nothing 
can be done in this darkness. Walt till daylight, 
and the place can be examined." 
•• What—and have us all robbed and murdered 
In our beds 7 Let me go, Reggie—let me go |” 
But he would not let me go; ho held me tightly 
wtth his arms around me, and he laughed a little 
as he whispered— 
" If any one Is murdered, It will bo me, for the 
finger pointed towards me; but I have no fear. 
NelUe, you are trembling like an aspen leaf, and 
you are as cold as an Icicle; lor my sake, darling, 
come away—for my sake!” 
That plea was not to be resisted. I suffered 
him to lead me quietly out of the room, down the 
dark wlndlDg stairs. Into the light and warmth 
of the other part of the house. Not t ill the next 
morning did we tell of our adventure, and then It 
was received with a provoking amount of In¬ 
credulity. However, alter breakfast, we suc¬ 
ceeded lu forming a party for the examination of 
the premises. 
“Bhall we go armed?” asked Captain Lewis, 
producing a formidable-looking revolver. 
" By all meanslaughed Reggie, who seemed 
to have quite got over Uia first fear, and to be 
convinced that some one was playing a trick. 
But no such thought consoled me, as I followed 
tho rest of the party up to the north gallery. 
Arrived there, we pointed out the spot where the 
figure had appeared. Captaiu Lewis examined 
It. carefully; he pushed away some of the pictures 
from ono side of the room, but nothing could be 
seen but an old damp-looking wall. Still un¬ 
daunted, he examined the other side, when 
presently a loud exclamation startled us all. 
He had lifted up one of the heavy portraits hang¬ 
ing at the eud or the room, and, on touching 
what seemed a tiny black speck lu the wall, a 
little door flew open, and revealed a small closet 
behind. This, again, communicated with a long 
passage, ending in narrow steep stairs, which 
were round to lead tight, down to another secret 
door opening into the back hall. One and all, 
we crept through the aperture, and down the 
passage, scarcely wide enough to admit one at a 
time, and so low that we were obliged to bend 
almost double. 
When we were ail assembled In the back hall, 
we could do little but look at each other it\,blank 
amazement, till Sir Henry came to the rescue by 
explaining that many old houses were built with 
these secret passages; he had heard that this 
house was quite a famous hiding-place In Jacobite 
times, but he had never known of this particular 
passage before. Still this did not explain tlie 
mystery of the preceding evening, nor did It at 
all relieve my mind, inquiries were Instituted, 
but without success—uo clue could be found to 
the perpetrator of the “trick,” as everybody 
would persist In calling It. The affair became a 
nine-days’ wonder, and then died out altogether. 
Not so with me however—all real enjoyment of 
my visit was over. I dared not eommunlcsta 
to any one the terrible anxiety gnawing at my 
hemrt. Night after night I lay awake reasoning 
with myself, but the awmi presentiment of evil 
seemed to be hanging over me, and I could not 
get rtd of it. People began to notice my pale 
looks and nervous manner. Reggie grew quite 
unhappy about It—and this be told me one day 
when we were walking out together. It was our 
favotlte walk round by the cliffs. The sea looked 
grand on that day. with the dark, melancholy 
grandeur of a winter sea. There was something 
almost ominous In the sound of the waves upon 
the beach and the walling of the wind among the 
trees. 
“TeU me all about It, NelUe," said Reginald. 
“ You are 111—I know yon are. You are unhappy 
—miserable; to see you so makes me wretched. 
Whom should you tell if not me? Why won’t 
you confide In me ? 
