670 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
OCT.48 
The countess then offered he r a cluster of finely- 
colored autumn leaves, remarking that she had 
gathered them hereelf. These the girl eagerly 
accepted, though she evidently had no use for 
them. And to this day, though the gtrl has 
merged Into a full-grown woman, nothing Ib pre¬ 
served more tenderly, or held more sacred, than 
the relic of withered, faded autumn leaves. 
6300 
These tokens of reventlal deference are the more 
remarkable coming from a people with whom a 
titled lady has nothing whatever In common and 
who have little to hope for from, the nobMtty, and 
because among her equals the lady Is treated 
with no such marks of respect. There the veil 
of mystery Is torn aside, and she stands among 
them an educated and refined hut weak woman. 
As her social position depends entirely upon the 
rank and power of her nearest male relative, she 
has no Individual authority. Society does not 
value a woman acco.’dlng to her Individual merit, 
but according to the position of her husband. No 
matter how Important and superior her talents 
may be, she cannot gain influence until he rises 
In power. In short, feminine worth and talent la 
swallowed up in masculine rank and wealth. 
Quite a different picture of social life Is pre¬ 
sented by the commercial and professional class¬ 
es. Here everybody lives as near on a footing of 
equality as the most liberal notions of propriety 
will allow. The eold rormalltles, anl strict dis¬ 
tinction between the sexes, observed among the 
nobility, is entirely dispensed with. The women, 
unhampered by the reigning frivolities or fashion: 
free from the haughty air of superiority which 
characterizes every lady of rank, possess that 
strength of character, that quick, natural intelli¬ 
gence and facility of expression which at once 
commands attention and respect, By her gen¬ 
erous Impulses, her natural warm-heartedness 
and genial good humor, she softens and human¬ 
izes the hard lot of the peasantry, and throwB 
Xitcnui] HXtscfllann, 
even a ray of warmth into the frigidly cold cir¬ 
cles of the aristocracy. Considering her large men¬ 
tal capacities, and her vigorous character no other 
woman in Europe Is capable of exercising a 
more unlimited and wholesome Influence over 
society. Her social Intercourse is with the most 
Intelligent and learned, and strangers who are 
apt to judge her social position by that of the 
titled ladles, will be agreeably surprised to see a 
learned Professor In deep and animated dis¬ 
cussion with a lady on sotno scientific subject, or 
a prominent merchant listening to a lady’s views 
on commerce with au earnestness and attention, 
otherwise only to be met with In a counting-room 
council of merchants. These facts are the more 
remarkable when wo consider that lu spite ot her 
influence In society and the respect shown to her 
by the most profound thinkers ot the day, she 
would not dare to utter the word ‘•Emancipa¬ 
tion" without risking her Influence and reputa¬ 
tion lu society. Her talents and abilities are 
only recognized as long as she limits the exercise 
of these to her domestic and social affairs. But 
the moment she evinces any undue ambition for 
a wider sphere of activity, the Professor would 
take his hat and depart with the gentle hint that 
he hoped the next time he had a conversation 
with the madam, it would be upon the philosophy 
of cooking. 
t may he ad led, however, that within the last 
few years very visible and encouraging changes 
have taken place In the! r social position. Whether 
it is owing to the late war with France which has 
occasioned i greater Influx of travel and more In¬ 
tercourse with the people of the now powerful 
empire, or to our.Centennlai Exhibition, In which 
women took a conspicuous part, I do not know, 
but Judging from several new events which oc¬ 
curred immediately after the Exhibition, Includ¬ 
ing the publication of a woman’s paper In Ger¬ 
many and Its frequent allusions to the freedom 
and Independence of American women, I am In¬ 
clined to favor the latter supposition. At any 
rate, they seem to have Imbibed 6ome of the love 
of freedom and equality characteristic of Ameri¬ 
can women and are anxious to break the Iron 
yoke of custom. In this they have the hearty co¬ 
operation rof men who, since having caught a 
glimpse of the high social position of American 
women, and the purifying, elevating Influence 
they exercise over all classes, have changed their 
stern opposition to woman’s advancement Into an 
earnest desire to elevate the sex. The old spirit 
of German pride Is roused, they are vexed to see 
a nation of such late growth eclipse them In en¬ 
lightenment, and progress. Society no longer 
sneers at the word ‘‘Emancipation.’’ And we 
need but look at the Increasing list ot German fe¬ 
male authors, to be convinced of the rapid Intel¬ 
lectual development and the powerful hold wo¬ 
men are gaining, as Individuals in soctety. 
Evidently a brighter future Is dawnmg for our 
German sisters. Although In a country governed 
by the Iron sceptre of hereditary monarchy, they 
can never hope for the unlimited opportunities 
and grand privileges offered among the free, self- 
governed people of America, they can, by degrees, 
elevate the tone of society. 
--——♦ ♦ ♦- 
HOME STUDY. 
The Chautauqua Literary and Scientific 
Circle. 
Fob the benefit of many Inquirers who have ad¬ 
dressed us In regard to “ Home Study," we pub¬ 
lish the following about the newly-formed enter¬ 
prise designated the “ Chautauqua Literary and 
Sclentlflc Circle:’’ For a year back a few days 
of each session have b«en given to scientific and 
' THE DISCARDED DAUGHTER. 
IN FOUR CHAPTERS. 
BT ELLEN HUNTER. 
6320 
5. Studies In the sclenoe of everyday life. 
The following are the questions candidates for 
membership In the class of 1882 are required to 
sign: 
1. Give your name tn full. 
2 . Your post-office address. 
3 . Are you married or single ? 
4 . What is your age ? Are you between twenty 
and thirty, or thirty and forty, or forty and fifty, 
or fifty and sixty, etc.? 
5. If married, how many children living, under 
the age of 16 years? 
6 . What Is your occupation. 
7. With what religious Idenomlnatlon are you 
connected ? 
8 . Do you, after mature deliberation resolve to 
prosecute the four years’ course presented by the 
C. L. S. C.? 
8 . Do you promise* to give at least four hours 
per week, from October ;i to July 1, to the read¬ 
ing and study required by this course ? 
10. How much more than the time specified do 
you hope to give to this course of study ? 
Persons answering the above questions and 
forwarding them to the Rev. J. II. Vincent, D. D., 
Plainfield, N. J., by or before Nov. l, 18T6, will be 
enrolled on the first class of the C. L. S. C.—the 
class of 1 SS 2 .” 
6337 6337 
literary subjects. But this year has seen the In¬ 
auguration of the most important enterprise 
that the association has undertaken—the Chau¬ 
tauqua Literary and Sclentlflc Circle for the Pro¬ 
motion of Home Study. Ills a gigantic under¬ 
taking, as It aims to assist anybody deslrlDg It, 
anywhere In the United Stales. It has the ma¬ 
chinery and means with which to push forward 
the work, und It will give a powerful impetus to 
study and investigation. Annexed Is a specific 
plan of work, 
1 . Name .—Chautauqua Literary and Sclentlflc 
Circle. 
2. Objects .—It is the aim of the C. L. S. C. to 
promote habits of reading and study lu nature, 
art, science, and In secular and sacred literature, 
tn connection with the routine of dally life, es¬ 
pecially among those whose educational advan¬ 
tages have been limited, to secure to them the 
college student’s general outlook upon the world 
and life. 
3. Plan, -This end shall be promoted by indi¬ 
vidual study In the Une3 and textbooks which 
shall be 'Indicated, by local circles for mutual 
help and encouragement in such studies, by sum¬ 
mer courses of lectures and “ Students’ Sessions’’ 
at Chautauqua, and by written reports and ex¬ 
aminations. 
4. Membership '—Members shall be received on 
application and registration, and continued on 
condition of success in examination. Forms of 
application will be provided. 
6361 
6 . Course o/ Study.-The course of study, to be 
hereafter announced, shall cover a period of four 
years. A tentative course for the flr3t year haB 
been arranged as follows: 
1. Studies in English history and literature. 
2. Studies in Greek history and literature. 
3. Studies in Biblical history and literature. 
4 . Studies In astronomy. 
CHAPTER III. 
“ THOMX61” 
The old servant touched his cap. 
Take my horse. I shall want him at nine.” 
John Romalne went up the path under the 
aromatic pines, dashing and handsome, whist¬ 
ling an air from “Travatore,” and carelessly 
clipping at the dead flower-stalks with his sliver- 
mounted rldlDg-wh Ip. it had been a blue, hazy 
Indian summer’s day; the clouds hung dreamily 
over the sea,—the air was heavy with a slum¬ 
bering sweetness. 
A figure stood in the low window aB ho came 
along the veranda. He heard the soft coo of a 
dove. It was fluttering on the sill,—a snow- 
white fan-tall, looking with round eyes at the 
little Jewelled hand which the figure held out 
to It. She called to it. softly. 
Edith Earnscltffe, tn a dinner-dress of sweep¬ 
ing silk,—the hue of May lilacs. There were 
falls of misty lace here and there about It, and a 
white shining line of pearls round tho lovely 
arm and throat, and in the wan, golden hair. 
The proud young face, with Its pansy-colored 
eyes and damask cheeks was very fair to see. 
The dove balanced Itself daintily on her finger¬ 
tip, picked at the pearls on her wrist, and flut¬ 
tered away at the tread of Romalne. 
He doffed his cap. 
“Am 1 lie tropV’ 
She laughed, and gave him her hand. 
“No." Her eyes said a great deal more. Ro¬ 
malne looked down the glided length of the 
crimson drawing-rooms. 
“First In the field, "he said. 
“No; papa has taken Miss Eckhart and his 
other guests into the picture-gallery. Shall we 
Join them ?’’ 
His knowing dark eyes laughed at her. 
“Oh, I am quite content to remain here,” 
“ But-’• blushing. 
He threw himself down near her, half-gal- 
lantly, half lazily. 
“ I have ridden from the harbor to say good-bye 
to you. Don’t quarrel with me." 
“ Good-bye ? r 
Edith plucked so nervously at the pearls on her 
wrist that he expected to see them go rolling 
away over the door. 
“ I return to town to-morrow.” 
“Indeed!” 
“Are you sorry 7” mischievously. 
She colored again. 
“ Yes. It will be so dull here, and we are to re 
main a month longer.” 
Her sandal-wood fan was lying on the window¬ 
sill. He took It up. 
“ Does Miss Eckhart accompany you to town ?’’ 
“Yes.” 
“ For the winter, 1 suppose?” 
she looked at him suspiciously, hut the careless, 
handsome face reassured her. He toyed Idly with 
the fan. 
“ Papa has decided so.” 
Romalne laid down the fan satisfied. Wise Ro- 
malnol There was‘another secret looking out 
from Edith Eiirnsr litre’s eyes which he might 
have learned more easily still. She loved him. 
Dinner came. The Earnscllffo dining-room was 
long, and wide, and sumptuous, with Its rich ta¬ 
bles and glittering sideboards. Squire Earns- 
cllffe sat in state amongst his guests. Miss Eck¬ 
hart was at his right hand. 
She was la complete black, pale and statuesque. 
Her rich hair was brushed away from the blue- 
veined temples; the eyes beneath looked larger 
and blacker than ever, and the lids had a white 
droop. They flashed up Involuntarily at Ro- 
malne‘8 earnest gaze. Both bowed. 
“ A marble Juno," he said to Edith. 
Down on the shore. In the little wind-swept 
graveyard of the hamlet, there was a new mound. 
Old Hans lay there. Hagar had been at Earns- 
cliffe a month. It was the squlre’8 work. He 
treated her as daintily as If she had been born a 
princess. A thousand little favors laid at her 
feet dally; a studied regard for her case at all 
ttmes; a quiet, unobtrusive watch of her slight¬ 
est movements, and bis c“ld, proud manner that 
always grew so humble before her,—Hagar could 
but notice these things. 
She had quick Instincts. They held her aloof 
from every member of the household; they froze 
the thanks on her lips. She grew cold, grave, and 
reticent. 
Romalne and some of the younger gentlemen 
left the table with the ladles. Presently Edith 
came sweeping past him towards the music-room 
on the arm of a bearded artlBt. The arrowy, 
stde-long glance shot from under her long lashes 
at his cool handsome face, was quite unheeded. 
He was watching Hagar Eckhart. 
“A penny for your thoughts, Monsieur,” said 
Edith. 
“They are too precious for barter,” he an¬ 
swered, smiling. 
She went on. 
Hagar was standing at the marble table, with a 
cluster of flowers and a slender Etruscan vase 
before her. 
He went to her side. 
“ What have I done, Miss Eckhart ?” 
She turned. 
“ Done?” 
“Yea; you have ceased speaklDg to me alto¬ 
gether.” 
The flowers were put quietly Into the vase. 
“Pardon me.” His dark eye3 watched her, 
half-tender, halt-laughing. 
“ If you will talk with mo now.” 
“ Well?” in a little annoyed tone. 
“ Tell me how you like Earnscllffe.” 
8 he was looktng over his shoulder at the au¬ 
tumn moon In the purple southwest. 
“ I like It.” 
She stood so dim, and fair, and still In the un¬ 
certain light, with her long black dress sweeping 
around her, that Romalne half held his breath. 
“ Do you know the place la haunted,” he asked. 
“Yes,” smiling; “hear Itl” 
It was the low sigh of pines, and the sea on the 
rocks. 
“No,” said Romalne, “that is not It,—haunted 
by a legend.” 
8 be lifted her eyes, as wondering as a ohlld’s. 
“ Have you never heard It?” 
“No.” 
“The old servants or the hamlet fishermen 
would tell It to you with a better grace than 
mine; It Is as familiar to them as the sea Itself.” 
There was something in Romame’B face that 
