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Virginie glanced behind her. “ Eush! ” she whispered, 
“the passage-door is open, and I heard that new maid 
brushing the hall only a moment ago.” 
“No matter,” returned Winnie, carelessly, 1 can change 
the combination at any time, and then I shall only have 
the trouble of teaching you a new set of numbers.” 
The door did open at that instant, revealing the monkey 
face and bushy head of Steenie, who was beaming all over 
with delight, in the possession of a black velveteen jacket 
and a pair of red stockings which his young mistress had 
bestowed upon him, for Steenie had been promoted from 
the position of bootblack and knife-cleaner to that of page. 
“ Mass’r Edgar’s waitin’ wid de bosses—has been a waitin’ 
dis half hour,” and Steenie rolled up the white of his eyes, 
and practiced his new bow, bending his supple body with 
the quick, graceful motion of a cat. 
“0, yes,” said Winnie, “I had forgotten all about my 
engagement to ride to the mine with Mr. Swayne. Now I 
must run and put on my new habit. Will you come and 
help me with the buttons, Virginie'? To-day we will play 
that you are my maid; I will have a real one from town 
before long. 
“ 0, let me always be your maid,” said Yirginie; “ it 
is all I am lit for, and I should delight to dress you.” 
“No, that is not your mission, Mousie; I have other 
views lor you,” tapping Yirginie’s golden head, as she 
bent down to fasten a pretty kid boot. “ You must make 
me as fascinating as possible, for I am going to meet that 
young ongiueer, and talk over the plan of sinking a new 
shaft and developing the mine. 0, isn’t it grand,” she 
cried with a little outburst of triumph, “ to be able to 
influence large things, and get out of the petty contempt¬ 
ible existence of a commonplace woman. Then, you 
know, there is the school to look after. I expect you to 
be very much interested in the school, Mousio. You and 
Mr. Swayne will work together beautifully. There, hand 
me my hat. This mourning is too dolorous. It would 
crush me if I did not light it up ; so you see I have stuck 
in a red feather. How comically horrified you look at the 
idea of my wearing red with my crape,” she said, laugh¬ 
ing at Virginie’s puzzled face; “but doesn’t that splendid 
Prince Ilal, in Shakspeare, tell Ills lady love that they will 
see new fashions? There, hand me my whip and gloves. 
Good-bye, Mousie,” kissing Her, and the bright, audacious 
creature flashed down the stairs. 
Old Nanna stood on the gravel path, in front of the hall, 
with her broad, black face puckered into a comical look of 
distress. Nanna’s mourning was as nondescript as that of 
her young mistress, for the suit of sables, laid iu many 
folds about her portly person, was crowned by a turban of 
flaming colors. 
“ 0, little miss,” she began in a lialf-sobbing tone, as 
soon as Winnie appeared in the sunshine, “ ’pears like ole 
Nanna might jess as well be dead and buried. Honey, 
dat new cook from de Port, she’s mighty gran’ and stiff, 
and old Nanna’s in de way, and ole Nanna’s jess no ’count. 
An’ dat new maid is shinin’ de silber-plate dat old mass’r 
kepinbank; an’ nobody but Nanna eber had de handlin’ 
ob dat, honey; and doy’U waste, an’ dey’ll spill, an’ she 
can’t even peep now to save de victuals. Poor miss’ible, 
wore out old creeter; she might better be under gravel.” 
Impulsively, Winnie threw her arms around the old 
woman’s neck, while Edgar stood looking on in silence. 
“ They shan’t shove you one side,” she said. “ Do you 
suppose I am goiug to let anybody abuse my dear, old 
mammy ? I will have the lodge repaired, down at the gato, 
that is all covered with white and red roses in June, and 
you shall live there, looking like a picture, iu your bright, 
little room. Steenie can sleep there nights, and you shall 
have one of Pinster’s children to open the gate, and 
Virginie and I will come and visit you, Nanna, and take 
tea.’* 
The sunshine in old Nanna’s face was again eclipsed. 
“ 0, honey,” she sobbed, clinging to Winnie’s knees, 
“ don’t send old Nanna from you; she dotes on you, 
honey, as de birds dote on de mornin’. ’Pears like she 
toted Miss Susan, and you too, when you was little. She’ll 
go pinin’ away, au’ breakin’ her ole heart a frettin’ after 
3 r ou, ef she’s cooped up in a cage by herself. Let me stay, 
honey, an’ wipe de floors wid de liars of my old head, for 
my beautiful, proud birdie to walk on.” 
Winnie lifted up the old woman very tenderly. “I 
thought you would be delighted with the lodge plan, be¬ 
cause it would make you independent, and you could have 
every tliiug your own way; but if you are unhappy at the 
idea of leaving me, you shall stay here at the hall, as long 
as you live, and have nothing to do but wait upon mamma; 
I will let you keep tlio keys, and then the other servants 
will have to look up to you.” 
“ Bress your heart alive, honey,” cried the old creature 
in a transport of delight, kissing Winnie’s feet, as she 
mounted into the saddle, and in a moment she was canter¬ 
ing down the avenue by Edgar’s side, like a fairy princess 
riding through an enchanted landscape. 
Yirginie stood in the place where her friend had left her, 
with a heart ill at ease; for she had carried a secret bur¬ 
den many days. Would not all be changed? she had 
asked herself with much perturbation of spirit, when 
Bradley Halcourt appeared as the affianced husband of 
Wirmifred? Could she remain in that house as the pet 
and favorite of his proud, young wife ? She was haunted 
by tlie thought of Winnifred’s cold, altered looks, when 
her love for the stranger had turned to distrust and hate. 
Though impulsive and affectionate, she knew that Winnifred 
could be hard, for was she not habitually hard to her 
mother ? Something she had not dared to own to herself 
rose up to face her, and, with a stifled moan, she put her 
hands to her eyes, to shut out tlie golden sunshine, and 
then suddenly resolved that she would write to the good 
pastor, Viardot, in Geneva, and ask him to find some 
asylum for her in her native land; there, engaged in 
humble toil—it mattered not what—she would try and for¬ 
get this strange, sad episode in her lonely life. 
As she shut herself into her little chamber, she saw 
lying on tlie dressing-table a folded letter, and, as her eye 
fell upon it, an evil foreboding intruded upon her already 
disturbed mind. The note was not very clean, and it was 
addressed to her in a hand with which she was unfamiliar. 
After a moment’s hesitation, she took it up, and opened it, 
and her eyes traced these words: 
“Miss Yirginie Duval: If you wish to hear tidings 
of your uncle, Walter Freeborn, you will visit the pine 
grove, at the north end of the lake, this afternoon between 
the hours of three and four. You are requested to keep 
this communication secret, and to como alone, or else it will 
be impossible for the writer to confer with you.” 
There was no signature, and Yirginie, as she read it, 
experienced a strange tremor, and sinking of the heart, 
instead of the joy that might have seemed natural at this 
first token in evidence that her uncle still lived. Since the 
great blow which his failure to meet her in New York 
had occasioned, she had thought of the possibility of find¬ 
ing him with inexplicable dread. Tlie mystery thrown 
around this strange note only added to her disquietude, 
and she sat for a long time upon her little bed, holding it 
in her hand, and trying to steady lierself with the hope 
that uncle Walter might be about to appear just at the 
proper moment to help her solve her life problem. 
At three o’clock Winnifred had not returned, and Vir¬ 
ginie tied on her liat, resolved to walk to the pine grove. 
Her face was pale, and the large blue eyes, with a pathetic 
wistfulness in them, looked as if they had wept. Now, as 
she left the door, she called to the great hound, Hector, to 
follow, for, it had occurred to her that in a conference with 
a stranger, it would bo well to have this faithful creature’s 
protection. The autumnal quiet was absolute, for a golden 
haze brooded over the distant hills, and the waters of the 
little lake lay smooth as a polished steel mirror, reflecting 
the sky tints and brilliant foliage in its clear depths. 
The path Yirginie took in her rapid walk skirted the 
lake, and passed not far from the fisherman’s (Finster) 
cottage, where a boat was drawn up on the little beach 
filled with a brood of bareheaded children. Virginie, as 
she climbed the bank to get into the grove, was hidden by 
trees, but she had a clear view of the cottage door, and, to 
her astonishment, she saw the large, slow, heavy form of 
Mrs. Braithwaite, clad in black, with the slight lameness 
in the left foot, entering that humble portal. She could 
hardly credit the evidence of her senses, for it was the 
first time, to her knowledge, that Mrs. Braithwaite had 
strayed so far from the Hall for many months. 
The pine grove was dense and dark, like a temple 
devoted lo the infernal gods. The tall tree-stems admitted 
furtive gleams of light that stole along, and were quenched 
in the deep, green gloom. Tlio mat of pine needles rustled 
stealthily under Yirginie’s feet, and the twilight made by 
the boughs had hardly closed around, when Hector 
bounded from her side, and, in a moment, a tall, slender 
man advanced out of the trees, patting the dog’s head. 
Ho was decently clad, and had a noiseless, cat-like tread. 
From his supple form, and the character of his dark, 
watchful face, it was impossible to tell Ms age. The 
shining black hair clung close to his temples, and his eyes 
had a trick of roving about, taking in everything without 
looking at anything. 
“ You seem to know my dog-,” said Virginie, in a low 
voice, as he came towards her, and raised his hat ? 
“ 0, yes, miss ; I always make it a point to get acquainted 
with the large dogs in the neighborhood where I am stop¬ 
ping.” 
“ Did you send me this note?” Yirginie asked directly, 
drawing the scrap of paper out of her pocket. 
The man glanced behind him, and drew a step nearer. 
“ Perhaps I did, and perhaps I didn’t; at any rate I came 
here to meet Miss Virginie Duval; and I can assure you,” 
he added, the peculiar smile curling about his thin lips, 
“ that your uncle, Walter Freeborn, is an affectionate uncle, 
and that he feels the deepest interest in his lovely niece.” 
Yirginie shrank back from any nearer approach, for this 
man’s gallantry was insupportable. 11 He has a singular 
mode of showing his interest,” said she, in cold, faint 
tones. “ He left me at the moment of my greatest need to 
the charity of strangers, a prey to the most cruel anxiety 
as to his fate.” 
“ Now don’t be hard on your uncle,” the man returned, 
as if he were coaxing a child. “He would have met you 
if he could. The fact is, he was detained against his will. 
Your poor uncle has been very unfortunate.” 
Yirginie could scarcely keep from trembling, visibly. 
There was a terrible, cold, heavy load upon her heart, but 
she managed to say, with a touch of resentment, “ If my 
uncle was ill why did he not send mo a message ? Why 
did he not write ? ” 
“He was not ill,” returned the man slowly, and almost 
in a whisper, and fixing his strange eyes upon her, with a 
power she could not resist. “ He was detained, I tell you, 
against his will." 
“ Where was he detained ? ” 
“ Do you wish to know ? ” 
“Yes, tell me all,” she faltered. 
“ Ho was confined in prison; he could not write to you 
because he had changed Ms name, and was not then known 
as Walter Freeborn; but ho has since made his escape. 
The mistaken zeal of Bradley Halcourt, in trying to find 
him, in advertising Mm all over the country, has raised the 
very devil, and obliged your uncle to keep in hiding much 
longer than otherwise would have been necessary.” 
Virginie felt as if she had received a staggering blow. 
She tottered back and put her hands to her head with a 
loud moan : “ My uncle a convict—a felon ?” 
“ Why do you use such unpleasant words ? Your poor 
undo was the victim of circumstances ; any decent jury 
would have acquitted him on the ground of emotional 
insanity. You, at least are bound to bo charitable.” 
11 1 will not judge Mm,” murmured the poor girl, with 
blanched cheeks, “ until I know of what crime he is 
accused.” 
“No, I wouldn’t judge Mm,” he returned with a leer. 
“ And it is about time, ray pretty little niece, that we 
dropped this disguise. You must already have suspected 
who I am. Your affectionate heart must have recognized 
your fond uncle.” 
Yirginie sprang back with a cry, and her gaze was 
arrested by the large, shambling form of Father Dooley, 
who was moving through the trees, at a little distance, and 
had stopped at the sound of her voice. The three gazed 
at each other a moment in silence, and then her companion 
raised his hat, nonchalantly, aud the priest passed on. 
“ The old priest has gone to confess Madame Braithwaite,” 
said the man in a careless tone; “ he will have to hold 
liis tongue. You see I am deep in the secrets of the old 
Hall.” 
Virginie had already begun to move swiftly out of the 
shadow of the trees. “I shall make no secret of your 
arrival,” said she, with pale defiance, and the scared look 
of a hunted animal in her blue eyes;’ “ I shall speak to my 
friend, Miss Braithwaite, immediately, and I shall send 
word to Bradley Halcourt.” 
“ 0, no you won’t.” The velvety, treacherous voice 
was not raised. “It won’t be an easy thing to let your 
line friends know that your uncle is an escaped convict, is 
hiding up in a miner’s hut, on the mountain. You see I 
can make it appear that you have had knowledge of me 
from the first I can prove to this Bradley, as clear as 
daylight, that you have wormed yourself into his con¬ 
fidence, and have had secret meetings with me. But I am 
a loving, kind uncle, and I shan’t do it, but you will take 
good care not to go back on me.” 
This man filled her with loathing and horror, and the 
poor girl turned now with a kind of desperate courage, 
and her voice sounded harsh and strange in her own ears. 
“ What do you want of me ?” 
“ What should I want but a little help and regard from 
my own niece? You are a deuced attractive girl, and you 
can make your attractions pay. Already you arc in clover, 
living with a great heiress, who fairly adores you. You 
can get what you please, and you can wind her about j-our 
finger; and you owe it all to me who sent for you to come 
over, and put you in the way of making your fortune.” 
“ I have never taken money from Miss Braithwaite. I 
earn nothing. I am simply a dependent in her house. 
She has given mo only a few presents of clothing.” 
“ But you must take money,” said he, in his soft, exas¬ 
perating tones, “ and you must come instantly when I send 
for you. The time may arrive when it will be necessary 
for you to introduce me to your friends.” 
Yirginie had but one thought, to free herself from that 
hated presence. She shook off the hand ho had laid on 
her arm, and fled, panting and breathless, down the wood- 
path, almost into the arms of Bradley Halcourt. 
(To be continued.) 
TRUST. 
I cannot see with my small human sight, 
Why God should lead this way or that for me; 
I only know He saith, “ Child’ follow me.” 
But I can trust. 
I know not why my path should bo at times 
So straightly hedged, so strangely barred before; 
I only know God could keep wide the door. 
But I can trust 
