SEPT. 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKE 
f itrrarg Utiacfllanj. 
WHITE CLOVER, 
The distant hills the long day through 
Have fainted in a haze of blue; 
The sun has been a burning fire, 
The day has beeu a warm desire. 
But all desire is over; 
The lights are fading from the west, 
The night has brought a dreamy rest. 
And deep in yonder wood is heard 
The sudden singing of a bird. 
While here an evening wind has stirred 
A slope set thick with clover. 
The fields lisve lost their lingering light, 
The path is dusky through the night— 
The clover ie too sweet to lose 
Herfragrance with tbegathering dews. 
The skies are warm above her; 
The cricket pipes Iub song again, 
The cows are waiting in the lane, 
The shadows fall adown the hill, 
And silent is the poor whip-poor-will. 
But through the summer twilight still 
You smell the milk-white clover. 
The glory of the day has ceased, 
The moon ban risen In the east. 
The distant lulls, the meadow near 
Are bathed in moonlight soft and clear, 
That veils the landscape over. 
And born of rure and strange perfume, 
Pure as the clover’s odorous bloom. 
Dear hupee that are but half conlegsed, 
Dim thoughts and longings fill the breast, 
Till lost again in deeper rest 
Among the blossomed clover. 
INMATES OF LESTER HALL. 
CHAPTER I. 
(Continued from page 597.) 
“ Ruby went charmingly,” she said In a moment, 
perching herself on the table and glancing at her 
sister with a very tender light In the starry hazel 
eyes. “ 1 think. If Rex will let me, I shall be able 
to hunt this season. By-the-bye, I have a letter 
for Rex. Where Is ho 7 ” 
“A letter ? What an unheard-of event l” said 
Mattie with a little laugh. “It Is not a bill, I 
hope, Cecil f” 
“ Ohl no; certainly not a bill,” said Cecil, de- 
ctdedly. •• Superfine paper, and a stately crest. 
Mattie, I believe tc Is rrom Uncle Henry; judging 
from the post-mark, see,” and she tossed the let¬ 
ter Into her sister’s lap, “ there It Is.” 
Miss Lester examined It with a faint flush of 
expectation coloring her fair face. 
“Yes, It Is from Uncle Henry,” she said. “I 
wonder what It can be about?” 
•* He does not often favor us," said Cecil, rather 
disdainfully. “He Is too rich and too grand, 1 
suppose, now that he Is ever so many times mil¬ 
lionaire. Oh, dear i how nice it must be to be very 
rich. 11 one could only be so honestly I” 
“I never heard anything against Uncle Henry,” 
said Mattie, quickly. “Some people do make for¬ 
tunes In these days without being dishonorable. 
Uncle Henry Is very much respected in the city, 
I know,” 
“ How do you know ?” asked Cecil, with a little 
laugh. 
“ I have seen how he Is spoken of in the papers, 
and I have heard of his very great goodness to 
the poor,” said Mattie, as she contemplated the 
letter with Its legible, business-like address. 
“ I don’t think he has been very good to us,” said 
Cecil, with a pout. 
“ We did not want anything from him,” said 
Mattie, hurriedly. “ Mamma used to tell of his 
goodness and care of her when they were chil¬ 
dren. I am sure he would love you, cis, you are 
so much like her!” 
“ 1 wonder what he Is writing to Rex about ?’ 
mused Cecil, sb she came down from her perch on 
the table and stood looking down at her sister, 
who was leauing back in her chair with a moved 
expression on the fair race. 
“ Yes, I wonder too,” said Mattie. “ l hope, oh I 
how I hope, Cecil, that It is to oiler him some em¬ 
ployment. 
•• Mattie 1" exolatmed Cecil, her hazel eyes open¬ 
ing wide with horror at the suggestion, “Some 
employment for Kex 1” 
“ Yes. Why not ?” said Mattie more earnestly 
than she generally spoke, with her color deepen¬ 
ing, and her eyes blightening with excitement. 
“ is there anything dl-gracetul in work, Cecil? I 
would give anything In the world to save Rex 
from the purposeless, Idle lire he leads now.” 
“ Why, Mattie,” said her sister, laughing, “ l 
never saw you so excited. Have you been reading 
Dr. Watts lately, that you wax eloquent on ‘idle 
hands’ and ‘mischief?’ But, Mattie,” and the 
girl's bright face shadowed over and grew momen¬ 
tarily grave, “ I never thought you would like Rex 
to be a clerk.” 
Mattie winced. 
“ I see no harm In any employment that Is hon¬ 
est,” she said, sturdily. “ Why should not Rex 
make a fortune as Uncle Henry has done. He be¬ 
gan with nothing, and now he Is enormously 
rich.” 
“I detest au upstart,” said CeclL 
“ I believe if we could know Uncle Henry we 
Bhould love him even as our mother did,” said 
Mattie. 
“ PerhapB so,” said Cecil, dubiously, 
“Remember our dear mother, Cecil,” said Mat- 
tie, gravely. “ Your remarks reflect upon her, 
you know.” 
“ I beg your pardon, Mattie,” Cecil said, peni¬ 
tently. •* Forgive me, and I will not offend 
again,” 
“ 1 know you spoke thoughtlessly. You are too 
young yet to know how bad it Is for a young man 
not to have any occupation. Oh, Cecil, If 1 could 
get Rex something to take him away from these 
surroundings.” 
“Well, perhaps Uncle Henry’9 letter may give 
him an opportunity,” said Cecil, lifting first one of 
her sister’s hands and then the other to her 
Ups with almost loverlike devotion. “ Rex Is 
so- ” 
" Who la taking my name In vain ?” said a gay 
voice at this Juncture, and looking up quickly, 
Cecil saw her brother standing at the entrance of 
the room, looking down with a smile at the pretty 
group his entrance disturbed, for Cecil sprang up 
to meet him with a gay speech of welcome. 
CHAPTER II. 
THE l.KTTEK. 
Reginald Lester was a tall, slender young man, 
with delicate, regular features, like his sister 
Mattie’s and hazel eyes like Cecil’s, but softer and 
lacking tlielr brilliance. He was well-built, and 
moved gracefully; had muen of Mattie’s mauner 
and some of the languid grace and nonchalance 
whteh had characterized his father; hut the proud 
resolve of bis younger sister, and the sweet, steud- 
fast gravity of the elder, were equally wanted in 
ills face. His expression was discontented, al¬ 
though his lace was naturally sunshiny and serene 
and his voice gay; but the disadvantages of his 
surroundings had had far more effect on Rex 
Lester than on his sisters. He had Imbibed from 
his father’s an exaggerated notion of bis own im¬ 
portance. He chafed greatly against the anom¬ 
alies of his social position, of high family and 
without fortune, of good position without means 
to support it adequately, and with tastes and as¬ 
pirations which he could not gratify, It was no 
wonder that very often Rex Lester was moody 
and dissatisfied and tempted to forget his annoy¬ 
ances In any means of excitement obtainable In 
the little village of Lester. 
It was not such bad fun after all presiding over 
the meetings held at the “Huntsman’s Rest”— 
the only decent Inn In the whole village; for the 
fox-hunting young farmers who met there had a 
great respect for the family at the Hall and tor 
Rex himself, because—although highborn gentle¬ 
man as he was. he was poorer than any there—he 
sat his horse better than any of them, and was 
always In at the death. Rex enjoyed himself 
there, although Mattie, watting up for him into 
the small hours of the night, often prayed him 
with tears to give up the “ Huntsman’s Rest ’’and 
the companions who were beneath him 
Then, too, It was not unpleasant during the hot 
lazy, languid summer evenings, to Saunter down 
by the mlllatream and have a chat with pretty 
rosy-cheeked Annie Hyde, the miner’s daughter, 
who blushed a deeper rose when he appeared, and 
who wjs so pleased and flattered at his laughing 
compliments and gay speeches. There was no 
real harm In Rex Lester, but he was thoughtless, 
careless. Indifferent, and discontented; he was 
young too, Idle, and fond of pleasure, and such 
amusement as was in his reach he would not lose. 
" Who is taking my name in vain ?” said Rex, 
lounging in, and throwing himself down In the 
most luxurious chair. “ What has little Dame 
Burden to say about me ?” 
“ Little Dame Burden” was one of the many pet 
names which Cecil had given to her sister, to 
whom both were devotedly attached, and one 
which the young housekeeper liked better than 
any other. 
“ It was not little Dame Burden who mentioned 
your name. It was I.” said Cecil, laughing. 
“Here Is a letter for you, which I got lrom old 
Job, whom I met on my way home, and who was 
delighted to he saved a trail up the hill.” 
“A letter forme!” said Reginald. “Hand It 
over, Miss Cls, and let us Bee what It Is about 1” 
“ We think It ts from Uncle Henry,” said Mat- 
tie. “ And we are all Impatience to hear Its con¬ 
tents. Open It, please. Rex.” 
“ Little Dame Burden, Impatient and curious, 
miracles are not over then ?” said Rex with a 
laugh, as he broke the elaborate seal which closed 
the envelope, drew out the letter, and began to 
read. 
It was a tolerably lengthy epistle, covering the 
four sides ora sheet, and written In the legible, 
buslness -1 LkecaUgraphy tu which it had been ad¬ 
dressed ; rather more cramped, perhaps, but still 
perfectly clear and distinct. Reginald Lester 
read It through rapidly, then he turned over the 
sheet and perused It again, this time more slowly, 
and with a darkening brow and flushing cheek.' 
His sisters watched him eagerly; then, as he 
flung the letter on the table with a muttered ex¬ 
clamation of “Coniound his Impudence!” Cecil 
burst Into ft fit of laughing which rang gavlv 
through the hall. 
“Good gracious! What has offended your 
mightiness ?” she said. 
“ Hush, cedi,” said her sister, gently. “ What 
Is It, Rex ? May I read the letter?” 
" ot course you may ! 1 never heard such Inso¬ 
lence!” said Rex, naughtily. “ Wants me to go 
Into his office!” 
“Who does?” laughed Cecil. "Uncle Henry? 
Does he really ? I wish he would taxe me l” 
“ You are only a child, you know nothing about 
tt,” said Rex, contemptuously. 
“ Weill” said Rex, emphatically, as Mattie con¬ 
cluded her perusal and laid the letter thoughtfully 
on the table. " Don't you think Mr. vicar’s pro¬ 
posal a most insolent one, Mattie ?’’ 
“ Insolent I” said Mattie, warmly, the color rush¬ 
ing into her ialr face. “ I see nothing but what la 
extremely kind and generous In Uncle Henry’s 
letter." 
*' Kind and generous I" repeated Rex. “ a clerk¬ 
ship In his counting-house i” 
“ But, dear Rex,” said Mattie, gently still, and 
very earnestly, "It Is not a clerkship he offers 
you—although even If It were It would be both a 
kind and generous offer—but he says that If you 
will go to him and learn your business, you will 
be to him as a son. Think, dear, what such an 
offer means—wealth, power and influence! is It 
not better than Idling away your life here? on, 
Rex, do consider seriously before you reject such 
a proposal! I cannot tell you how happy It will 
make me If you accept, because I know how much 
happier you will feel. Uncle Henry Is so respected 
and looked up to. It Is not as If his wealth had 
been made in a questionable manner; you know it 
is not so; you know that he Is most scrupulously 
honest and honorable.” 
“ Doubtless! ” said Rex; " but, my dear Mattie, 
no Lester was ever perched on a counting-house 
stool yet.” 
“Oh, Rex!” said Mattie, reproachfully, while 
Cecil’s laugh rang out again clear as silver. 
“ Rex,” how absurd you are!" she said. 
“ Am I ? perhaps so; but I am only keeping to 
the rules ot my order," he said, rather grandilo¬ 
quently ; and Cecil’s sweet, mocking laugh rang 
out again. 
“ ‘ My order!’ ” she repeated. " What order Ls 
that?” 
" nush Cecil, dear!” said Mattie, with an en¬ 
treating glance. “ Rex ls, T hope, a gentleman- 
not from any accident of birth, but because he Is 
true, honest, and faithful! Uncle Henry is a 
gentleman, too,—a noble, upright gentleman—for 
the same, the only true reasons.” 
"But Mattie, do you really mean that you wish 
me to accept this offer 7 ” said Rex, Incredulously. 
“ 1 do, indeed I" said Mattie, bravely. “ If 1 bad 
dared i would have asked Uncle Henry to make 
you just such an offer.” 
“ Good little Dame Burden)” said Cecil, as her 
sister disappeared behind the oaken screen, “ How 
kind she Is! Rex, you must do this, If only to 
please her.” 
“ But, Cls, and Reginald put his arm round his 
young sister, and drew her to him,” would you 
like to see your brother a clerk ?” 
“ Nonsense, Kex, you would not be a clerk,” 
said Cecil. Uncle Henry would only give you 
the position his son would occupy U’ he had one. 
He was so fond of mamma, you know, and he 
would be sure to like you so much. Besides,” she 
went on, meditatively, “ it would be so unutter¬ 
ably Jolly | Mattie ls not here to be shocked at my 
adjective—to be able to go to the theatres, and see 
all the slgnts! Oh, do take Uncle Henry’s offer, 
Rex, darling, and go. You win soon get rich, and 
then you can send for Mattie and me I” 
“ You selfish girl ”’ he said, laughing. “ is that 
why you want me to accept? WeU, It sounds 
rather tempting, when one comes to think of It! 
I wonder what sort of a fellow Uncle Henry ls ?” 
" 1 am sure he must be very nice!” said Cecil, 
eagerly. “ He ts so much thought of by every one. 
I know you are going to say «yes.’ Rex; and In a 
few years I shall be talking of my brother, Reginald 
Lester, the Merchant prince!” 
‘“How pleasant It ls to have money!’” said 
Reginald, laughing, as he repeated the quotation 
after her, “ We have not much of to pleasant¬ 
ness, have we? But we wlU, Cecil, if Uncle Henry 
gives me a chance. After all, we are his nearest 
relatives, and he has a right to do something lor 
us ! Shall I write to him at once and accept ?” 
‘Do, there's a dear brother,” said Cecil, coax- 
tngly. “ Dame Burden will be so delighted, and 
Uncle will be pleased to think that you auswered 
him by return of post. See here. Rex, It you like 
to write at once I will ride over to the vlUage and 
post the letter before eight.” 
“ You are taking my breath away, Cecil, you 
are so energetic,” said Reginald, smiling, as she 
brought him pens and ink and paper, and pushed 
a chair up to the table. 
“Energetic,"said Cecil, laughing, “of course I 
am energetic. There, sit down and write, and 
mind that you are civil. 
Reginald threw himself into a chair, tossed 
about the paper and pens for a minute or two, 
muttered something about It being a great bore, 
but ilnully made an attempt, tore it up, then 
wrote off another note, which, when It was 
finished, he handed to his sister for inspection. 
Cecil read It with an air of extraordinary 
gravity, handed It back to her brother to he 
sealed and directed, then replaced the Utile rid- 
iog-cap which she had removed on her entrance, 
and took up her whip. 
“Mattie Is safely InstaUed in the kitchen,” she 
said, gaily; “ I shaH he back In time for tea, and 
our sister will be so delighted to hear that you 
have done so!” 
“ All right. Here you are, Cls; and look here, 
my child, ride Ruby quietly, and don’t jump any¬ 
thing,” said her brother. “I cannot have you 
talked of as a little wild hoyden.” 
Cecil laughed, 
“Cannot you, indeed? Since when? since you 
have had a cUance of being a merchant prince?” 
she said, saucily. 
“You shall have a finer horse than Ruby, when 
1 am a rich man, Cecil. Meanwhile make haste 
or Mattie wlU have finished the muffins; and If 
you are not ready when they are, she will be 
dreadfully disappointed.” 
Off flew Cecil, leaving her brother to ruminate 
over the change in his prospects, and to coDjure 
up all kinds of dreams of wealth and pleasure from 
his connection with his rich uncle. Cecil ran 
lightly round to the back premises, saddled Ruby 
herself, sprang lightly into the saddle, and canter¬ 
ed away down the drive on to the high road, it 
was a straight line to tbe village by the road, and 
generally Cecil preferred finding her way to the 
village by fields and lanes. On this day, however 
she went straight and 3 wlft, keeping Ruby at a 
quick trot. In order to reaeh the post-office before 
the departure of the evening mall. 
“I’m not too late, am I, Mrs. Pritchard?” she 
said, greeting the old postmistress with a smile. 
“No, Miss Cecil, quite ten minutes to spare, I 
hope youTe quite well, ma’am and Mica Lester, 
and the squire also.” 
"All quite well, thank you, Mrs. Pritchard,” said 
Cecil, with a srnUlog nod. "No, thank you, I 
won’t get down, as l must he back at the Hall in 
time lor tea Good afternoon." 
“Good afternoon. Mtss Cecil,” said the post¬ 
mistress, with a curtsey ; and having posted her 
letter, Cecil turned Ruby’s head homewards and 
went her way, feeling that she had put Reginald’s 
fate Into her uncle’s hands, and that she and 
Mattie had given him up for good and aye. 
Cecil’s heart sank a little as she pondered over 
the change. They had been so happy together at 
Lester Hall, and Rex had been such a dear, good 
brother to her, and they had suited each other so 
capitally—how could she do without him ? True, 
Mattie had been anxious sometimes; she had 
thought that Reginald was too idle and purpose¬ 
less ; that hla visits to the Mill had been too fre¬ 
quent, and she had wished openly that he did not 
go so often to the “ Huntsman’s Rest;” but It bad 
been so dull at Lester for Rex, It was only natural 
that he Bhould amuse himself a little. Cecil was 
too young to guess at the danger of such amuse¬ 
ments as flirtations with pretty Annie Hyde, and 
evenlDgs spent at the “Huntsman’s Rest.” She 
supposed It was all right, as her faith In her 
brother was perfect. Rex was in her eyes all that 
was true and noble. 
“How she would miss him,” she thought, 
mournfully, as she turned Into the drive, “ and 
how much Uncle Henry would love him when he 
knew how good and nice "he was 
“ You have been out riding again, Cecil,” said 
Mattie, coming out to the great stone steos as she 
rode up. 
“ Yes,” said Cecil, soberly. 
“ Where have you been, dear ?” said her sister 
glancing at the grave little face In surprise. 
“ To the post-office.” 
“ To the post 1 What for ?” 
“To post a letter from Rex to Uncle Henry,” 
said Cecil, slowly as she dismounted, and stood for 
a moment with the bridle over her arm. 
“ A refusal ?”sald Mattie, eagerly. 
“No—an acceptance.” 
CHAPTER III. 
DEPAKTUHE. 
Mr. Henry Daton, the great city magnate, 
was evidently a man of prompt and decisive s o- 
tion. The day following that on which he had 
received Rex Lester’s letter came another letter 
to Lester Hall, fixing the day tor his nephew’s ar¬ 
rival in the city, and enclosing a check for fifty 
pounds lor traveling expenses. 
This last, circumstance told considerably In his 
favor, for Rex had passed the Intervening twenty- 
four houre In a state ot uncertainty and depres¬ 
sion, not knowing whether he was moat vexed or 
pleased at the decision he had made. The Idea ot 
constant occupation was anything but pleasing to 
Rex, especially occupation which would keep him 
Indoors all day; and he had not really tbe faint¬ 
est conception of a business life, and could only 
picture It to himself as long hours passed perched 
up on a stool before a desk with Interminable rows 
of figures In a huge column which he had to add 
up. But Mr. Dawn’s cordial letter and enclosure 
seemed w place things In another fight. 
-Uncle nenry seems to be very liberalMattie 
said. “Rex, l do so hope you will get on well to¬ 
gether, and that It he should prove at all crotchety, 
you will give in to hts wtshes. You knowhow 
lonely he Is, and how much trouble he has seen In 
the death of his wife and only son. You will try 
and make It up to him as far as you can, will you 
not?” 
“Ot course-of course,” said Rex, a trifle indif¬ 
ferently. 
“You need not worry yourself, Mattie. I have 
no doubt that we shaU get on perfectly.” 
“I hope so," Mattie answered, cheerfully; and 
although she went about her domestic duties as 
carefully as of old. her heart was a little heavy at 
the thought of the separation from her brother, 
although she rejoiced that a field ot active em¬ 
ployment was open w Mm. 
The days fled swiftly by m the excitement of 
Reginald Lester s preparations tor departure. Not 
that there was really very much to prepare, for ot 
course the city tailors would be better able ro sup¬ 
ply Mm with what was necessary in the way of 
clothes, and Uncle Henry had hinted as much in 
Ms second letter. 
But Rex had a good many farewells to make, 
and Ms sisters clung w him with Increased affec¬ 
tion. He (ell the parting from Ms sisters and hla 
home more than he had thought to do. 
“ It ls strange that Uncle Henry should not have 
said anything about us,” said Cecil to her sister. 
“ I mean about going w see Rex.” 
“ We must wait to see how Rex gets on.” said 
Mattie. “ I dare say ho will give him a week’s 
holiday sometimes to come to see us, CeclL I do 
hope all will go right!” 
“Of course it will go right!” said Cecil, care¬ 
lessly. “ What makes you anxious about Rex 
now, when you wished so mucu that he should 
go?” 
“I don’t know, hut sometimes I reel as if some¬ 
thing terrible will come of this 1" said Mai tie, 
rather despondently. 
"Nonsense, Mattie! you are overworking your¬ 
self. and feel nervous!” said Cecil, cheerily. •* Put 
on your habit, and have a canter on Ruby; it will 
do you good.” 
Mattie laughed as she turned away. Cecil’s 
universal panacea was a canter on Ruby ; but be¬ 
fore the Laugh had died away the anxious, sorrow¬ 
ful expression came back to her face. Rex was so 
Impressible and easily ltd, she could not help feel¬ 
ing anxious about him: but If she could have had 
a glimmer ot the future—she would have bitten 
out her tongue rather than have added one word 
to induce Mm to accept Cuele Henry’s offer; and 
she would with more satisfaction have followed 
Mm to his grave than have helped him with Ms 
preparations for Ms voyage. 
The days slipped steadily and swiftly on until 
the day fixed for hla departure came. It was well 
known In the village that the young squire was 
going away to be with his uncle, of whose wealth 
and magnificence the good people of Lester spoke 
with bait'd breath; and he would be the heir, in 
all probability, people said, and Lester Hall would 
once more resume Its old splendor. They were 
sorry to lose the young squire, who was very popu¬ 
lar with them; he had none of the.prlde.of Ms an- 
