tain a slip of paper, lialf written, half printed, 
that looked like a certificate. Upon the envelope 
was Inscribed, In faint, feminine characters, 
*• From my dearest husband, June the third, is—;" 
and In one corner it was endorsed with the name 
of Ada Carlsforde. 
Noel did not reel Justified hi examining the In¬ 
closed paper, and he carefully placed the envelope 
and Its contents In his pockot-book, there to re¬ 
main till ho should find some opportunity of rev 
turning It to Its owner. 
•‘Then you don’t think this of any consequence?” 
Inquired Irene, who was Impatient for his opinion. 
“ You don't think with me that It. must have been 
let fall by some one who went pi the cabinet ? i 
am positive it was not lying whore l found ft 
when r was last. In the room yesterday afternoon.” 
Yes, Noel did agree with her, though he advised 
her to say nothing respecting the Hading or tins 
paper until he gave her leave to do so, He now 
felt tolerably certain tint It was Miss carlsforde 
horseir who had visited the library, and, having 
been frustrated by the presence of Irene In the 
purpose, whatever It might he, that brought her 
t hither, had returned later nt night, and then re¬ 
moved from the cabinet certain papers or other 
articles she wished to have, nut whether she 
was residing In the neighborhood, or actually In 
the house, lie was puzzled to decide; and after 
pondering over the eccentricity of her conduct till 
Irene had tired ot his grave silence and loft hltn, 
he resolved to dismiss the subject from Ills thoughts 
till he could discuss It with Llllltan Gray, whom ho 
was half Inclined to suspect 01 being In t he heir¬ 
ess’s confidence. 
(MIAPTICR XV1U. 
Cf.KM 10NT ratNFORTH. 
Noel was still in too weak a condition to endure 
fatigue and excitement without sulferiug H orn the 
reaction; and r»r. Monson, when he paid Ids daily 
visit, found his pulse so high, that he j>eremptorUy 
banished everyone hut JepUson from his patient’s 
chamber, till the sedative he prescribed had re¬ 
duced the feverish symptoms. 
It Noel had been left to himself, lie would have 
rebelled against these restrictions, tor tills was 
the day Clementiiunforth had fixed for Ills visit 
to Carlsforde, aud 1 roue's brother was extremely 
anxious to see the young man to vv horn the heed¬ 
less girl had so hastily pledged herself, hut Joph- 
son wlio was an old soldier, aud prided himself 
on never disobeying orders, guarded him so jeal¬ 
ously, that not even ills prime favorite, Hllllau 
Uray when she came to the door with some flow¬ 
ers, was permitted to cross the threshold. 
“ Beg pardon, my lord,” he said, when Noel de¬ 
clared that he must see Mr. Dunforth, it only for 
ft few minutes: ‘'but orders is orders, you know, 
and I had mine direct from Dr. Monson. Lie’s 
commanding oil leer Just at present, and I’m an¬ 
swerable to him; dtsdplhie must lie observed, 
sir." 
“If you will do nothing else, at least you can 
recall Miss Gray, and let. me give her a message 
for Mr. Dunforth,” the invalid urged. 
“ Very sorry my lord,” said Jephson, “hut. it’s 
’gainst orders to let you talk too much, and you 
wouldn’t be able to avoid ltui let a woman luto 
the room.” 
“ Don’t speak disrespectfully of Miss Gray 1” ex¬ 
claimed Noel, sternly. 
••certainly not, my lord; she’s a young lady I 
admire too much; and you'll never find we mili¬ 
tary men impertinent to the fair sect, my lord; 
hut truth Is truth, find there's no denying that, be¬ 
twixt Mrs. Burst, and Miss Gray, and Miss Est- 
court, there Is a deal more t alking goes on in t ills 
apartment than Is good for your lordship, with a 
broken log, and a head that’s been one maas of 
confusions; let alone that Dr. Monson forbids It.” 
Arter which harangue Jephson withdrew Into 
the dressing-room, and left Ills patient to his own 
reflections. 
Yet, vexed as Noel had been at missing Clement 
Dunforth, lie was far from gra tilled to learn on the 
morrow that Mrs. Hurst had pressed the young 
man to remain at the Park till Lord Cailsfoi de was 
able to see him. Irene’s suitor might be the most 
amiable of men, the most devoted of lovers; yet, 
until Noel had satisfied himself that lie could wel¬ 
come him as a brother-in-law, It was not pleasant 
to know that he was domesticated with her; and 
when Dr. Monson paid his next visit, Ills patient 
told him with such vehemence that lie must ho 
permltied to see Mr. Dunforth, that the surgeon 
consented to the Interview, for he saw that he 
would do as much or more harm by forbidding, as 
by permitting it. 
Clement Duuforl.li’s appearance was certainly in 
his favor, though Noel could not help thinking 
t hat tilts grave young lawyer was the last person 
to ha ve won the affect ions of one so thoughtless as 
Irene, lie had none of those ready smiles and lit¬ 
tle gallantries at hand which would have recom¬ 
mended him to her, aud occasionally tliero was a 
flash in Ills deeply-set eyes, and a stern knitting of 
his brows, that would have made a more sensitive 
girl teel halt afraid to offend him. Yet. the Impres¬ 
sion that he had astern, It well-restrained temper, 
was generally forgotten when he began to speak, 
for he had such a low, well modulated, and thrill¬ 
ing voice, that some had been heard to say Mr. 
Clement Duulorth would owe to It ills successes at 
the bar. 
He evinced no embarrassment when ushered In¬ 
to Noel’s room, though he must have seen how 
keenly and anxiously ha was being surveyed; and 
It was with a happy blending ol sell-respect and 
cordiality that he made a few polite Inquiries, and 
congratulated tlifl Invalid on the progross he had 
made. Yet,, In spite of the favorable Impression 
Ills mlIress created, Noel was conscious of being 
repelled by an intangible something In his visitor s 
look and manner for which he could not. account. 
No one could express himself tu choicer language, 
no one appear more desirous to win ids esteem, or 
more deserving of It, and Noel, searching In his 
heart for the reason why he could not reciprocate 
tbees friendly advances, began to think it must lie 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
with htmsell; that his long Illness, and his annoy¬ 
ance at Sirs. Estcourt’s reticence, had combined to 
render blm irritable and distrustful. 
“ Irene has given me no satisfactory reason,” he 
said, presently, “why l have been kept In Igno¬ 
rance of an engagement to which she tells mo that 
her mother has consented-’’ 
“ Yes,” said Mr. Dunforth, answering the latter 
part 01 this speech only, “Mrs. Estcourt consents, 
and 1 hope wo shall see more of each other, l.ord 
Carlsforde. Irene Is so proud and rond of her 
brother, that for her sake you and l must begood 
friends.” 
Tills was very pleasantly said, blit, it did not 
touch upon the sore tojilc of the concealment that 
had been practiced: and Noel returned to It. 
“1 hope with you that we shall be able to bo 
friends: but why. I ask, have 1 not been made ac¬ 
quainted with the engagement ?" 
“ Pardon mo, you did not ask me why ; nor 
could l have answered. If you ha-l. You must not 
make me answerable for any of Mrs. Estcourt’s 
ami ngements.” 
Noel bit his Up. 
Was It, then, wholly the fault of hlsstep-mother ? 
and had she been foolish, nay, wicked enough to 
load thlsyoung mail Into a proposal made perhaps 
In llie belief that Irene would be handsomely 
dowered. The suspicion had already crossed him, 
and he felt that Clement's mind must be Imme¬ 
diately disabused. 
“ I may not discuss Mrs. Ksleoui t's motives for 
her sllouce; doubtless they are good ones, anil 
she has a right to dispose of her daughter as she 
pleases; but as Irene’s nearest relative, l hope J 
may he permitted to inquire if you are aware that 
site Is wholly without fortune? 
Clement bowed. 
“she has berse.lt been impressing tills fact upon 
me within the last, hour.” 
“ But you were not aware of It when you de¬ 
clared yourself. You Imagined, naturally enough, 
that as the sister ot a peer she would have a mar¬ 
riage portion,” 
“ My dear Dol’d carlsforde, you forget turn I was 
paying m.v addresses to Miss Ksl.’ouri before you 
succeeded to the title,” was the suave reply. 
“ And yet 1 knew It not,"’ muttered the perplexed 
Noel. “ Why did 1 not hear this from you. Mr. 
Dunforth ? Did Mrs. Estcourt request you to keep 
me In the dark ?" 
“ Certainly not; but, on the other hand, she did 
did not refer me to you; and by t he time 1 began 
to think It odd that you testified no interest In an 
affair that so nearly concerned y our sister's hap¬ 
piness, l learned that Viscount Carlsforde was 
dead, and you had quitted London.” 
“As Mrs, Estcourt practises so much secrecy,” 
exclaimed her aggrieved step-son, “she may not 
have thought proper to tell you the position In 
which the late Lord Carlsforde’s will has placed 
me." 
Clement Dunforth looked politely attentive, and 
Noel briefly explained how her father’s remorseful 
affect ion tor his child had rendered the heir to the 
title penniless. 
“ But you will marry the lady,” was the com¬ 
ment, spoken so confidently that Noel reddened 
with angry emotion. 
"No, sir; 1 certainly shall not attempt to wed 
an unfortunate girl solely that l may enjoy her 
property. Never! And Miss carlsforde has testi¬ 
fied a repugnance to the scheme as great, as my 
own, by withdrawing from the house until I am 
sufficiently recovered to quit It. As this Is a very 
distasteful topic to mo. we will now take leave of 
It for ever, Mr. Dunforth. 1 should not have allud¬ 
ed to it It I had not felt that It was only Just to you 
to make you understand that Irene brings you 
nothing but herself.” 
“ Thanks tor your candor, but the explanation 
was quite uncalled for. I am not mercenary, and 
some of my legal friends are wont, to say that those 
fellows often succeed most who have nothing to 
back them but their own energies. We will hope 
Unit this will be ray case/’ 
“ Then, as yet, you have no sta nding at the bar 7” 
“No standing!” Mr. Dunforth coolly echoed. 
“ 1 have my reputation to make, as well as my for¬ 
tune.” 
“Aud yet you meditate marriage. Isn’t this 
rather rash?” 
“ It would be very,” was the smiling reply, “ ir 1 
contemplated rusldrig luto wedlock before the 
tables and ohutrs are purchased. Ireue must he 
content, to wait till 1 can make her a home.” 
Realizing how positively Ids sister had assured 
him that clement would hear of no delay. Noel did 
not know how to reconcile such conflicting 
speeches; but, at the risk of being considered over 
ullielouS, bo asked if, under these circumstances, 
Mr. Dunforih had acted wisely, or even .rightly, 
in persuading Irene to agree to what might be a 
long and therefore, unsatisfactory engagement. 
“ 1 might answer that, as Mrs. Estcourt conseiUs 
to entrust me with her daughter’s happiness, no 
one else has a right to interfere,” Clement an¬ 
swered, but in so smiling and suave a manner, that 
It, would have been difficult, to take offense; “ but. 
to Irene's brother, I shall only say—yes, 1 am 
forced to admit that It was a selfish act on my 
part; but 1 cannot wish It undone." 
•' Irene Is so young.” her brother expostulated. 
“ i fall to sec how you. at least ten years her 
senior In age, and double that In worldly experi¬ 
ence, could have been attracted by my childish 
sister." 
“ Am l the first, man who has had a fancy for 
educating a w ife to his mind,” laughed Clement, 
ruing from his seat. “ You will find a spleu ol ro¬ 
mance, Lord Carlsforde, In the most matter-of-fact 
of our sex. But your attendant Is making signs to 
me that 1 have overstayed my time. -May 1 come 
and see you again to morrrow ? 1 am collecting 
some Information at Corby, and Mrs. llurst kindly 
invites me to spend all my leisure here. Do you 
Indorse tin- invitation ?" 
“ impossible! I am not In my own house,” an¬ 
swered Noel, shortly. 
“ Well then, I shall accept without your doing 
so, and spare you the responsibility of answering 
for my good behavior. Adieu, till to-morrow.” 
But when element Dunforth reached the door, 
lie suddeuly returned lb lean ever the lied, and, 
with suppressed eagerness, exclaim : 
“One question before I go. That girl—Hllltan 
Gray ! It Is not the first, time that l have met her. 
What is she doing here?"—-To be continued. 
-- 
SCIENTIFIC TEMPERANCE. 
This is the new basis on which, we are per¬ 
suaded, t emperance doctrine will win brilliant vic¬ 
tories in the near future. Helen lists are giving 
close and successful study lb tbe action of drinking 
habits on the structure of the brain, within a 
few years great progress has been made In giving 
us the physiology of drunkenness. We have long 
known what arc the general moral and mental 
effects ot Intemperance. The destruction or con¬ 
science, Judgment and will, and the wider physical 
and social results are patent to the commonest 
observation, it. makes wonderful transforma¬ 
tions of the mliul. body and social organism. The 
world has long known it Is the most gigant ic evil 
In Hie way ol Hie world’s progress arid happiness. 
In a general way the world has long known how 
thoroughly drunkenness wrecks the body and 
mind. The evidence Is too common and the de¬ 
monstration too appalling to leave room for Igno¬ 
rance of these final results. But, tale scientific In¬ 
vestigations have given us the physiological and 
chemical reason of these last results. 
It Is In these the world should be profoundly In¬ 
terested. The scientific basis will furnish new 
temperance arguments and people who ore too 
coarse lo feel the appeal based on sentiment or 
morals may bow to one rested In science. 
Microscopic examination has shown the effect nt 
alcohol on the blood. Dr. Harriiiiun )u a series of 
experiments in Boston shqvved that alcohol pro¬ 
duced these among other essential changes in red 
blood corpuscles. It acts specifically on the color¬ 
ing matter, making 11 colorless. It distorts and in 
some eases wholly breaks up the red corpuscles 
and produces a parasite vegetallou In the fluid of 
the blood and hydro-carbon substances can readi¬ 
ly be delected by the mioroscojie. in throwing 
upon a screen magnified corpuscles, bolh nr 
healthy blood and of that which had been sub¬ 
jected to the action of alcohol, the difference was 
marked and striking. The. effect of the alcohol 
was thus shown to be destructive ot the very life 
currents of the body ami, of course, having a de¬ 
teriorating effect upon the whole system. 
But as the vigor aud tone of the brain la hugely 
dependent on the purity or the blood with which It 
is supplied, ttls manifest that the effect of alcohol 
would be deleterious to t he brain and to all mental 
action In precise ratio to the quantity taken 
hi to i ho system. Recent investigations have 
made It clear not only that, alcohol ]« bud for 
the brain, but that it Is specifically on the brain 
that It does Its most harmful work. It lssome- 
i lines said oi the drinker, “ Hie liquor lias gone to 
the brain.” That Is precisely where all liquor 
goes, not as a sanlLiry or Hmlc agent, but as a 
Steadily and scientifically destructive agent. 
It may work slowly, well-nigh imperceptibly In 
Us hardening and deadening effect, blit it surely 
goes to the brain of all who use It, It. surely 
weakens that brain, and it taken in sufficient 
quantity will as certainly destroy reason and con¬ 
science, as It will destroy the body. Indeed, It has 
been shown that It acts first on reason and after¬ 
ward on the body. It benumbs and confuses the 
drinker’s brain, before It makes him stagger, or 
puts him to sleep, lie is garrulous In a partially 
dethroned mind before he falls luLo the gutter. 
There Is a corollary to this scientific fact. Of 
course these experiments are made on the brains 
ot Inebriates. But the logic of them goes farther 
back, aud Infallibly points out the peril or moder¬ 
ate drinking. If alcohol goes lo the brain to work 
destructively, it will do Its work in tho exact ratio 
of the amount of It. ITool' alcohol will work faster 
than that, which Is diluted ; distilled liquor, faster 
than fermented; but each will do Its utmost to 
break down the man. Brandy will shoot the 
drinker most swiftly lo the grave. But Wine will 
slowly, and scientifically, according to the amount 
of alcohol It contains, work toward the same re¬ 
sult. 
if the conclusions of doctors are correctly drawn, 
they overturn totally and forever the Idea ad¬ 
vanced by moderate, drinkers, that wine and beer 
are wholesome, but whiskey Is ruinous. The dif¬ 
ference Is only one or degree. 
A further argument for total abstinence, is herein 
suggested by the met Unit the taste for diluted 
alcohol Is the precursor of a, mate for purer alcohol. 
The moderate drinker uses wine for its alcohol. It 
is the alcohol eltoet he prizes. It will lead Win on 
to seek more oi it. But even should this not he 
the case, out or Ids wine lie nan la the course of 
years distil alcohol enough Hi his brain to weak¬ 
en lnielleeUnd action and deaden moral sen¬ 
sibility, Thus science ponds the way of the Bible 
when it declares tho unwisdom ot the man who 
allows either wine or strong drink, either fer¬ 
mented or distilled liquors, to deceive him .—The 
interior. 
-- 
RIPPLES. 
“ Oh tell me, Leaudei’,” she said, 
“ Now what would you do wore l dead ?” 
Tho warm stamp of horeye 
Bogged muue tender reply, 
Aud alio blushed an she hang down her head. 
“ I'd remember lliee always, dear Jane 
Tlrm, biting tlio head of his cane. 
Ho added In this Saddening strain: 
“ For darling, you sec 
I never could lie 
Such a fool as to marry again.” 
TDK TKOUBI.ES OF A POET. 
Whii.e Col. Bangs, editor of the Argus, (Ameri¬ 
can) was sitting In his office one day, a man whose 
brow was clothed with a thunder entered. Fiercely 
MAY 24 
seizing a chair, he slammed his hat on the table, 
hurled his umbrella on the floor, and sat down. 
“ Are you the editor?” he asked. 
“ Yes.” 
“ Can you read writing?” 
“ Of course.” 
“ Read Hint then.” he said, thrusting at the col¬ 
onel an envelope with an Inscription on It. 
“ B —said the Colonel, trying to spell It. 
“ That’s not a Jt; It’s an 8.” said the man. 
“ s ? Oh, yes, 1 see. Well, the words look a lit¬ 
tle like • Salt tor Dinner,’ ” said the Colonel. 
No, sir," replied Hie man, “ nothing ot the kind. 
That’s my name—Sain’l H. Brunner, l knew you 
couldn’t read, i called to see about, that poem of 
mine you printed the other day, on the ‘ Surcease 
of Sorrow/ ” 
•• I don’t remember It*” said the colonel. 
“or course you don't, because It went into the 
paper under the IntamoUS title Of • smearcase. To- 
Morrow.’ ” 
“ A stupid blunder of the compositor, 1 sup¬ 
pose.” 
“ Yes, sir, and that Ls what 1 want to see you for. 
The way t hat poem was mutilated was simply 
scandalous. I haven’t slept a night, since, ft ex¬ 
posed me to derision. People think 1 am a fool. 
Let me show you.” 
“GO ahead,” said the Colonel. 
“ The first line, when I wrote It, read In this 
manner: 
■ Lying by a weeping willow, underneath a gentle 
Mope,’ 
That Is beautiful, poetic, affecting. Now, how did 
your vile, sheet present It to the public ? There it 
Is. Look at that. Made It road In this way— 
' Lying to a weeping widow, toiuduce her to elope,’ 
That is too much—It's enough to drive a man 
crazy!” 
“ Pm sorry.” said the Colonel; “ hut— 
“ And then take the fifth verse. In the original 
manuscript It8ald, plain as daylight— 
"Take away the Jingling money; it is only glittering 
dross,” 
A man wit b only one eye, and a cataract over that 
could have read the words correctly. But your pi¬ 
rate upstairs there—do you know what he did? 
He made It read— 
‘Take away tho Jeering monkeys, on a sorely glati- 
dffltd li o«s,’ 
By George ! 1 fell like braining hi in with a shovel! 
l was never so cut up In my life.” 
“ It was natural, too," said the Colonel. 
“There, for instance, was the sixth verse. I 
wrote: 
I I am weary with the Omni tig of the ocean ub itheaves.’ 
II is a lovely line, too; hut Imagine my honor and 
t he anguish of my family when 1 opened your pa¬ 
per and saw the line transformed into— 
' I am wearing out my trousers, till they're open at the 
knees.' 
That Is a little too much ! That seems to me like 
carrying the thing an Inch or two too far. I think 
l have a constitutional right to murder that com¬ 
positor : don’t you ?” 
“ i think you havp.” 
“ Let me read you one more verse. I wrote— 
■ 1 swell the flying echoes ns they roam along the hills, 
And 1 feel my soul awaken (o the eestacy that thrills.’ 
Now what do you suppose your miserable outcast 
turned that into? Why, Into this— 
* I smell the frying sheen as they roast, along the bulls, 
Aud I peel my soul mistaken in the eestaey that whirls.’ 
Gibberish, sir, awful gibberish! I must slay that 
man. Where ts he?” 
“ He Is out just now,” said the Colonel. “ Come 
In to-morrow.” 
"1 w ill,” said the poet; “ and 1 will come 
armed." 
Then he put on his hat, shouldered his umbrella, 
and drifted off down stall's. 
An estimable Louisville young man who teaches 
a class at Sunday-school and occupies a prominent 
position In the choir has a fancy for the maiden 
who sings the alto. The hist time he called on her 
he found her, with her father and mother, enter¬ 
taining tho minister. Concealing Ills disappoint¬ 
ment with as much grace as he could command lie 
Joined t he dignified circle and maintained his share 
ol the conversation very credit ably, considering 
the untoward olrowie;t.u/tees, The minister who 
had been something of a traveler In bis time, 
turned the talk to his hobby, and was reveling In a 
gorgeous description of Ids favorite country, Bra¬ 
zil when the small boy of the family, who was 
building a block church on the floor spoke up: 
“ Ma, has sister Floy ever traveled any ?" “ No, 
child, no—you rnustn t speak when others are talk¬ 
ing.” “ Then, when 1 was a-lyin' under the sofy 
Sunday night, and slater and Mr. John come In 
from church and was n-settln’ In the nig rockln- 
cheer, how come her to say that t he nicest land 
she ever was In was Lapland?” 
“ on one occasion when Phoabe t’ary was at tbe 
museum In New York, looking about at the curiosi¬ 
ties,” says Barnum, “ I preceded her and had 
passed down a couple ot steps, .she, Intently 
watching a big anaconda In a case at the top of the 
stairs, walked off (not noticing them) and fell. I 
was just in time to catch her lu my arms and save 
her from a dangerous fall. • I am more lucky than 
the first, woman was who fell through the Influ¬ 
ence of the serpent,’ remarked l’licebe, as she re¬ 
covered herself.” 
An old gentleman, without tact, on meeting 
some ladles whom he had known as girls In his 
boyhood, cordially remarked: “ Bless me ! How 
i Line files! Let me see. It Is fifty-two years come 
next April since we used to go lo school together 
lathe red school-house. 1 was a Little chap, then, 
you remember, and you were fine young women.” 
The old man could never understand why hls cor¬ 
dial greeting was received so coldly. 
“ Geokoh,” slio said, to the perspiring young 
man, “ I love you just the same, but as our city 
relatives are coming next week, mother thinks 
you’d better stay away, because your long hair and 
