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“Well, Mr. Jones, you see I’m back," was the greeting wh. ch a. Toronto merchant gave his bookkeeper the other morning. 3 “Yea, sir , and how have you enjoyed l yourself ‘2” queued the pale- faced individual who was turning over the leaves of a well- thumbed ledger on the desk before him. Inithough some few persons had obtained seed from China and elsewhere, and had made ef- forts to raiseand manufacture tea, although ‘withtbut little practical result in any case. Probably the largest number of plants col- lected by any one person are those collected by a. Dr. Jones in Liberty County. Gm, near Savannah, who some time before the Rebel- lion undertook to raise a. number of plants with a view of making tea. His plantation was practically abandoned, and after the war his daughter, Mrs. Scraven, prepared tea in a rude way from leaves picked from the old trees, of which there were at the beginning of this year 300 or 400 growing Wild in the edge of a forest, the seeds falling from which, scat- tered through the brush, had grown into quite an extended thicket, from which‘Mrs. Scrnven was in the habit of selling plants and seed to those persons who wished to purchase. When. as Commissioner of Agriculture, I wished to promote the cultiva. tion and manufacture of tea. in this country, with a View of supplying our people with home raised ten. and thus decreasing the im- portation of the article. I purchased from Mrs. Screveu plants and seeds for distribu~ tion, and I scattered these throughout the South. and we are now reaping the reward of this efiort by learning from the growth and condition of these plants the soils and cli~ mates best fitted for the production of this necessary article. “I have but a short time since returned from an examination, assisted by Mr. Jack- son, of a large area of South Carolina, in which are found many locations in which the soil and climate were pronounced by Mr. Jackson as exceedingly favorable for the production of the tea plant. This pre- liminary examination showed more land suit» able for tea culture in the belt of country about forty or fifty miles back from the coast. the best land being mostly situated in that portion which is regarded as unhealthy for white people during the summer months, but not particularly unhealthy for the negro, who seems to live and thrive unharmed by the malarial atmosphere of the rich lands of that section. Mr. Jackson assures me that there is no better soil for the plant in those parts of India with which he is familiar, and which has proved so great a source of profit to the English and Scotch tea com- panies.” “Has any tea been manufactured as acom- * ‘ ercial article, and is the quality equal to hat of imported tea ‘2” lie Belmes Ills Fflorta al Cultivating the Pluul in Thin Counlry. [From the Philadelphia. PressJ Gen. Le Due of Minnesota, the Commis- sioner of Agriculture, arrived at Philadelphia recently, and a reporter interviewed him at the Continental Hotel, on the subject of tee culture, the introduction of which into this country has been one of his pet llu'nlkies. “ The tea. plant.” said the General. “ had hem grown and distributed by the Department of Agricul. ture for some years, more as a matter of curi- osity. than with the efiort to make a tea [garden or to estahllsh its growth as a. business, "For a number of years persons throughout the South owning one or more tea plants have made tea as best they knew how. but in a very crude fashion, bruising the leaves and drying them in a Dutch oven or even in the sun and storing them away as a. family sup. ply of the fragrant herb which they pro- nounced better than any they could purchase at the stores. Notably. this has been done in the last two years, or since the publication and circulation by the department of a little treatise upon tea culture and manufacture; But no tea has been made of a commercial character until Mr. Jackson this spring com- menced to manufacture tea in proper form, and send it to the department as an evidence of what could be done, even with the old and neglected plants he had purchased with the Jones plantation.” “It is, I believe, commonly understood that there is abundance of money in our own country now seeking profitable investment. When Government bonds can be floated at four per cent" and tea ofi‘ers a. profit which will be indicated by the difference between the cost of cultivation and thowholesale price, the cost, according to the testimony of Mr. Jackson, will be from fiften to twenty cents per pound, and the whdesale price ofiered in New York is forty to fifty cents. and in Lon- don fifty to seventy cents per pound.” “Do the plants in this céunt-ry only afford the English breakfast; vafriepy of _tea. ?" “By no means. The leaf of the tea plant is manufactured in different ways to secure the different brands of tea for the markets in which it is put. The difference lies in the manipulation of the leaf. Green teas are made without fermentation, whereas the Eng- lish breakfast class of teas are all fermented in different degrees according to the quality desired.” “Am; the profits of this cultivation likély to be great enough to attract capital in this direction ’1” A Bookkeepm": Ilenllhlul Holiday Trip “I must say I’ve had a good time this trip. Just away a month, you know ; made good timeto New York and went straight to the seaside.;;Fusliionable society there, you know. Soon as I got there I felt myself improving in health ; and my appetite wag so good after a couple of dips in the briny, you know, that the number of dishes I called for quite startled the waiter. I tell you sea-bathing is the thing to give you fresh life and energy ; and then the fresh sea breezes, whew l There is nothing in the world like sitting on the beach on it fine evening, imbibing the ozone, listening to the music and watching the peo- ple bathe by electric light. It invigorates you,you know, and when you go to bed you sleep so sounuly that a burglar could step in and take the bed from under you without dis- turbing you.” ‘ “I suppose not,” continued the merchant. “Then breakfast is a great meal. Why, when I’m at home I can’t manager). great big break- fast; but, bless you, at the seaside I ate like a horse. I bathed in the see sometimes twice a dav, that is, morning and evening, and if I’m not in better health than ever I was, I’m a. Dutchman You know, in my opinion, there' a no place for a man to go in the sum’ mer equal to the seaside.’ , “I nieé'er slept so soundly as that,” inter- rupged Mr. Jones. “Yefi, sir, I think a change of air really does? one good.”i “Of course it does; and on your return from the country you feel as if you could do twice the work you did before. I think, Jones, you should have a little relaxation." - “Yes. sir, I want a rest. For five years I havgn’t bequaway from the desk." “Yes ; well see if you can get through what you are'doing now by one o'clock, and then run over to the island for the afternoon. A change of air ’11 do you good, you know.” The book-keeper looked sad.â€"â€"Mail. At a Cincinnati brewery there is a machine recently imported from Germany, which is under contract to make a ton of iceâ€"or to produce cold equal to a ton of iceâ€"for ninety cents. The plan is to station the machine in a side building. and to send the cold air or water through tunnels in the street into the cellars. In the fomenting cellers cold wateris sent by pipes through the tubes,the tubes hav- ing coil pipes inside. Into the storing cel- lers, where the beer is in casks, the cold blast is injected full into the cellar, turning it into a. monster refrigerator. The estimates are carefully made, and confidence is expressedin the success of the plan. â€"You may have seen a young man on one side of a. gate and a maiden on the other side. Why they talk so long is because a great deal can be said on both sides. GEN. LE DUO 0N TEA CULTURE. MAKING ARTIFICIAL ICE TAKE A REST‘ 1/7“ /W / U'ch ragga. 01-98“, “After an absence of nearly twenty~three years, it will seem almost as strange to me as to my daughter Reinette, who, though over twenty years of age, has never been in an English-speaking country. She is as anxious to come as I am, and we have engaged pas- sage on the Russia, which sails from Liver- pool the 25th. I have no idea whether the old house is habitable or not. All important changes and repairs I prefer to make myself, after Reinette has seen it and decided what she wants; but, if possible, I wish you to make a few rooms comfortable for us. The large chamber which looks toward the town and the river I design for Reinette, and will you see that it is made pretty and attractive, so that she will have a good first impressmn ! If I remember rightly, there used to be in it a mahogany bedstead older than I am. Remove it, and substitute something light and airy in its place. Reinette does not like mahogany. Put simple muslin curtains at the windows, and have nothing but matting on the floors ; Reinette detests carpets. And if you know of a pair of fine carriage horses and a lady’s saddle pony, have them ready for inspection, and if they suit Reinette I will take them. If you chance to hear of a trusty. middle-aged woman suitable for a housekeeper at Hether- ton Place, retain her until Reinette can see her ; and please have the conservatory and garden full of flowers. Reinette is passion- ately fond of flowersâ€"fond, in fact, of every- thing bright and pretty. She has just come in, and says tell you to be sure to get her some oats and dogs,,so I suppose you must do it : but for Heaven's sake, don’t fill the house with themâ€"two or three will answer. I can’t abide them inyself. Reinette is waiting for me to go to dinner, and I must close. Shall telegraph to you from New York as soon as the vessel arrives, and shall follow on first train. “DEAR Simâ€"You will undoubtedly be sur- prised to hear that. I am coming home. Once I expected to live and die abroad, but recently, with my failing health, there has come over me a feeling which, were I a boy, I should call homesickness, and which at least is an intense longing to see America once more. Arthur Ber’esford’s face was a. puzzle as he read this letter from one whose business agent and lawyer he merely was, and whom he scarcely remembered at all except as a dashing, handsome young man, whom every- body called fast, and whom some called a scamp. “From Mr. Hetherton. sure,” he said to himself. “What can he want, I wonder? Not money. for it is only six weeks since I reâ€" mitted to him what was due from the rental at his buildings.” “ 0001, upon my word 1" he thought, as he folded the letter and returned it to his pocket. ” A nice little job he has given me to do. Clean the house , air Miss Reinefte’s hed- chamber; move the old worm-eaten mahogany furniture, and substitute something light and cheerful which Reinette will like; put muslin curtains to her windows ; get up a lot of horses for her inspection ; housekeeper, do. ; fill the garden with flowers, where there‘s nothing but nettles and weeds growing now ; and, to crown all, hunt up for .Miss Reinette a me- nagerie of dogs and cats, when, if there is one animal more than another of which I have a mortal terror, it is a eat. And this girl, this Reinette, is passionately fond of them. Who is she, any way? I never heard before that Mr. Hetherton had a. daughter; neither, I am sure. did the Rossxters or Fergusons. Mrs. Peggy would be ready enough to talk of her Paris granddaughter, if she had one. But we shall see. Mr. Hetherton’s letter has been de- layed. He sails the 25th. That is day after to-morrow, so I’ve no time to lose, if I get everything done, cats and all. I wish he had given the job to somebody else. Phil Rossiter, now, is Just the chap to see ' it through. He’d know ex- actly how to loop the curtains back, while as for cats, I have actually seen the fellow fondling one in his arms. Ugh ?” and the young lawyer made an impatient ges- ture with his hands, as if shaking off an im- ‘ aginary cat. Opening thg letter at last. he read as fol lows : “FREDERICK HETHERTON." ” Spare no money to make the place com- fortable.” The morning mail for Merrivale had just arrived, but there were very few letters to- day. 001. Rossiter, who lived in the large stone house on the Knoll, by which name the place was called. had two ; one from his wife, who, with his two daughters, was spending the summer at Martha’s Vineyard, and one from his son Philip, 3. young graduate from Harvard, who had been off on a yachting ex- cursion and was coming home for a few days before joining his mother and sisters at the seaside. There was also one for Mrs. Lydia Ann Ferguson, who lived on Cottage Row, and who. if the sign in her window was to be believed, was the fashionable dressmaker of the town. Mr. Arthur Beresferd, the only practising lawyer in Merrivale, had six, five of them on business, and these he read hastily, as he stood in the post oflice door, and then for a moment studied the superscription of the other. which was soiled and travel-worn, and bore a foreign_postmark. “MR. BEEESFORD Just at this point in his soliloquy, Colonel Rossiter, who had been leisurely reading his two letters inside the office, came out, and remembering that he was a connection by marriage with the Hethertons, Mr. Beresford detained him for a. moment by laying a hand on his arm, and thus making him stand still while he explained about the letter, and asked what he thought of it. By urn. Elan-y .I Holmes, author of "Tempest and Sunshine," ” Ethelyn's Mistake,“ " Forrest House," etc. “Think?" returned the colonel, trying to get away from his companionâ€"“I don’t think anything ; I’m in too dused a hurry to think â€"-a very dused hurry, Mr. Beresford, and you must excuse me from taking an active part in anything. I really have not the time. Fred Hetherton has a right to come home if he wants toâ€"yes, certainly, a perfect right. I never liked him muchâ€"e stuck up-chap, who thought the Lord made the world for the special use of the Hethertons. and not adused Rossiter in it. No, no ; I’m in too great a hurry to think whether I ever heard of a daughter or notâ€"impression that I didn't ; but he might have forty, you know Go to the Fergusons ; they are sure to be posted, and so is Phil, my son. By the way, he‘s coming home on next train. Con- sult him ; he’s just the one, he’s nothing else to do, more's the pity. And now, really, Mr. Beresford. you must let me go. I’ve spent a most uncommon length of time talking with you, and I bid you good- morning.” And so saying, the colonel, who among his many peculiarties numbered that of being al- ways in a. hurry, though he really had nothing to do, started toward home at a rapid pace, as if reached to make up for the time he had lustiin ynneoessary 159.11g. Mr. Beresford o loked after him a. moment, and then remembering what he had said of Philip, decided to defer his visit to Hetherton Place until he had seen the young man. “HOTEL MEUMCE, PARIS, June 10, 18â€"‘ QUEENIE IIETHERTON. VOL XXIII. INTRODUCING SOME OF THE CHARACTERS. “Truly, CHAPTER I. n ! Phil was interested in the girl at once, but j Mr. Beresford, who was several years older, was more interested in the numerous ar- rangements he was to make for her reception. ; They had reached the Knoll by this time, and ‘: were met in the hell by the colonel, who did ‘ not manifest the least annoyance because of Mr. Beresford’s presence, but on the contrary seemed glad to have him there as it re- 1 lieved him from any prolonged stay with ‘ his son. i “ Upon my word,” said Phil, “ one would ‘ suppose this Reinette to he a very queen, the way her father defers to her. Everything must bend to her wishes; bedstead, matting, flowers. housekeeper, horses. and cats and ‘Hdogs that’s rich; but I 11 take the last job off ivour hands I know of a whole litter of young puppies which I’ll have in readiness ; for her, besides half a ozen or more cats.” “Now, what under the sun 9, cootoory is, I don’t know," Mrs. Ferguson said. “neither does Anny, and she’s been away to school three quarters ; but there‘s her letter, read it for yourself if you can. Army and me found it hard work to make it out, the writing is so finefied " Philip took the letter, which was written in that fine peculiar hand common to the French, and which was a little difficult at first to deci- pher. But the language was in good English and well expressed, and the writer, Miss Mar- gery La Rue. late from Paris, wished to know if there was an opening for a dreSsmaker in Merrivale. and if Mrs. Ferguson wished to sell out, as Miss La Rue had been told she did. “I wish to mercy ma. would get out of the hateful business and take that. horrid sign out her of window; I’d splitit up quick for kind lings ; I’m always ashamed when I see it ;" Miss Anna said petulantly, for she was foolish enough and weak enough to ascnbe all her fancied slights to the fact that her mother was a dressmaker and had a. sign in her win- dow. Mrs. Ferguson, however, did not share in this feeling, and reprimanded her ambitious daughter sharply, while Philip, who knew how sore she was upon the point. asked her if she really thought she would be any better with the obnoxious sign gone and her mother out of business. What Mrs. Ferguson wanted was to know if he had ever heard his mother or sisters speak of a. dressmaker at Martha‘s Vineyard, a. Miss Margery La Rue, who was a Frencbwomau and who had written to Mrs. Ferguson, ask- ing if she wished to sell out her business, and if it would pay for a first~class cautm-iere to come to Merrivale. “Of course I wouldn’t be any better. I’m just as good as anybody now,” Miss Anna re- torted, with a toss of her head. “But you know as well as I that folks don't think so. and ms. and I are not invited a quarter of the time just because we are poor and work for a living. Even your sisters Ethel and Grace would not notice me if I wasn’t their cousin. As it is, they feel obliged to pay me some at- tention. I hate the whole thing. and I hope I shall live to see the day when I can go to the seaside, and wear handsome dresses and diamonds. and have a girl to wash the dishes and wait on me. There'sthe bell now; some- body to get some work done, of course,” and Anna. flouuced out of the room to wait upon a customer. while her mother asked Philip again if he had ever heard his sister speak of Miss La Rue. saying they must have told her of herself and of Merrivale. Phillp never had, but prom1sed to inquire about her when he went to the Vineyard. as he intended doing in a few days. Then, not caring for a second encounter with the little gal-den haired bloude, he went out of the side door and so escaped into the street breathing r freer in the open air and wondering why Anna ne ed always bother him about being slighted because she was poor, as if it made any matter if only a person was nice and behaved herself pro- perly- , "Ma never ought to have asked you into the work room, and me in such a plight. But, then, you know me. She’d have done the same if it had been Mr. Beresford, I do be- lieve. She’s no sensibility, ma. hasn’t.” This in an aside to Phil, who assured her that. he did not mind the work-room, and did not care for crimping-pinsâ€"he’d seen bushels oflthem. be presumed. But what did his aunt want? He was in something of a hurry to get home, as his father was expecting him and would wonder at his delay. Phil knew he was stretching the truth a little, for it was not at all likely his father would give him a thought until he saw him, but any excuse would answer to get away from the Fergusons. with whom at heart he had little sympathy. Mr. Beresford was the next to accost Phil, and as the Hetherton business was upper- most in his mind, he walked home wimh the young man and opened the subject at once by telling him of the matter and ask- ing if he had ever heard of Reinette Hetber- ton . “Reinstate Hetherton~Reiuette,”Philip re- peated. "No, never ; but that’s a. pretty name, and means ‘little queen.’ I wonder what kind of a craft she is ‘2 Frenchy, of course, and I hate the French. She must be my cousin, too, as I have never heard that Mr. Hetherton married a. second time. When will she be here 1’” Anna Ferguson, who had been called for her mother, but had long ago discarded Lydia. as too old-fashioned. and adopted the name of Anne, was eighteen, and a blue-eyed yellow- haired blonde, who would have been very pretty but for the constant smirk about her. and the affected air she always assumed in the presence of her superiors. Even with Phil she was never quite at her ease, and she be- gan at once to apologize for her hair, which was in crimpingpins, and {or her appearance generally. Two hours latenthe Boston train stopped at the station, and Phil Rossiter came up the long hill at his usual rapid, swinging gait, at- tracting a good deal of attention in his hand- some yachting dress, which became him so well. The first person to ac cost him was his aunt, Mrs. Lydia Ann Ferguson, who insted upon his stopping for a moment, as she had a favor to ask of him. Phil was the best na- tured fellow in the world, and accustomed to have favors asked of him, but he was tired and hat. and in a hurry to reach the quite and coolness of his own home, which was far pleasanter, and more suited to his taste than the close, stuffy apartment, with its large-pat- terned carpet. and turkeyâ€"red curtains, into which Mrs. Ferguson led him, and where his cousin sat working on a customer's dress. “ Eh, Phil, glad to see you,” he said. “ Hope you had a pleasant time ;" then, in an absent kind of way, with a move of his hand, " make yourself at home. You are quite wel- come. I am sure ; both of you,” bowing to Mr. Beresford. “ And now, if you’ll excuse me, I will leave you. I shall see you at lunch time; good-morning, gentlemen ;" and with another very courtly how, he walked rapidly away to the green house, where he was watching the development of a new kind of been found in Florida the previous winter. Left ta themselves the two young men re- sumed their conversation concerning Reinette Hetherton, and Mr. Beresford showed Phil her father’s letter. "Yes, thank you. I am sure I shall be glad to be rid of that cat business.” said Mr. Beresford, "but tell me, about Mrs. Hether ton, Reinette’s mother. I'was too much of a boy when she went away, and you, of course, were younger still. but you must have heard it from your mother. They were sisters, I think." RICHMOND HILL, THURSDAY, AUGUST 19, 1880. Mrs. Hetherton. Frederick’s mother, had come from the vicinity of Tallahassee, and with the best blood of Florida in her veins, was, if possible, more exclusive than her his band, and labored assiduously to instill her aristocratic notions into the mind of her son. Years and years ago, when the Indians still lurked in the woods arennd Merrivale, and bears were hunted on Wachuset ML. and the howl of the wolf was sometimes heard in the marshy swamp around old Cranberry Pond, the entire town it is said, was owned by the Hethertons, who were aristocrats to the back-bone, and who traced their ancestry in a direct line back as far ‘‘as the Norman conquest. Theirs, of course, was thebluest blood in Merrivale, and theirs the heaviest purse, but purses will grow light in time, and blood grow weak as Well, and the Hell:- erton race had died out one by one, until, so far as anybody know, there was but a sin gle member remaining, and he as good as dea i, for any good he did to the people of Merrivale. For nearly twenty-three years Frederick Hetherton had lived abroad, and during that time. with one exception, he had nrver communicated with a single indi- vidual except his lawyers, the Beresfardsâ€" first Henry the elder, who had been his friend andy colleague, and after his death, with Arthur, the younger, who succeeded to his brother's business. When Frederick first came home from col- lege he was a dashing, handsome ySimg man, with something very fascinating in his voice and manner; but to the young girls of Merri- vale he was like the moon to the humble brook on which it shines, but always looks down. They could watch, and admire, and look up to him from a distance. but never hope for anything like an intimate recognition, for the Hetnertons held themselves so high that very few were admItted to the charmed circle of their acquaintance. After her death, however, whether it was that he found life at Hetherton Place too lonely, or that he missed her counsels and instructions, he was oftener with the young people of Merrivale ; and rumors were at last afloat of frequent meetings between the heir of Hetherton and Margaret Ferguson, whose father was a stone mason, but a perfectly honest, upright and respectable man, and whose mother was then familiarly known in the community as the Aunt Peggy who sold root beer and gingerbread in the summer time, and Boston brown bread and baked beans in the winter. Merrivale was not a very large or very stir ring town, for its sons and daughters had a habit of turning their backs upon the old home and seeking their fortunes in the larger cities or in the West, where nature seems to be kinder and more considerate to her children, in that her har- vests there yield richer stores with less of that toil of the hands and sweet of the brow so necessary among the rocky hills of New England. There were no factories in Merrivale, for the waters of the lazily-flowing Chicopee were insufficent for that, but there were shoe-shops there,v and the men who worked in them lived mostly in small, neat, houses on Cottage Row, or on the new streets. which were gradually creeping down the hill to the river and the railroad track, over which almost every hour of the day heavily- laden trains went rolling on to the westward. During Mrs. Hetherton’s lifetime her car- riage had occasionally stopped before the shop door while she bartered with Peggy for buns and cakes, but anything like social ac- quaintance of the Fergusons the lady would have spurned with contempjz. Great, therefore, was her astonishment when 001. Paul Roseiter, who had been ed11- cated at West Point, and whom, in a way, she acknowledged as her equal, fell in love with and married Mary Ferguson, who was the child of her father’s first marriage, and in no way related to Peggy, and who was quite as well educated as most of the girls in town, and far prettier than any of them. The Ferguson’s were all good-looking, with a fair, Saxon type of beauty, and Mary’s dazzling complexion and soft blue eyes caught the fancy of Col. Rossiter the first time he reined his horse in front of the shop where small beer and gingerbread were sold. Hetherton Place was nearly a mile distant from the village, and on the side of a hill.the ascent of which was so gradual that on reach- ing the top one was always surprised to find himself so far above the surrounding country, of which there were most delightful views. Turn which way you would the eye was met with lovely landséape pictures of grassy meadows and plains, of wooded hill-sides, sloping down to the river’s brink and stretching away to the sandy shores of the ponds or little lakes, which, when the morning sun was shin- ing on them, sparkled like so many dia- monds, on the sunny valley of Merrivale, where our story opens. Nothing could suit Mr. Beresford better, for though he was several years older than Phil, the two were fast friends, and later in the day. when it was beginning to grow cool, they rode together toward “Hethertan Place," which had been tenautless since the death of old General Hetherton, which had occurred ten or twelve years before Col. Rossiter at that time was thirty five or more. and had never evrnced the slightest interest in any one of the opposite sex. In- deed, he rather shunned the society of ladies and was looked upon by them as a very pe- culiar and misauthropical person. He be» longed to a good family, was an orphan and rich, and had no one’s wishes to consult but his own ; and so, after that first call at Peggy's establishment, and when Mary entertained and waited upon him, it was remarked that he seemed very fond of small beer. and that it took him some time to drink it. for his chestnut mare was often tied before the shop door for half an hour or more, while he sat in the little room where Mary was busy with the shoes she stitched, or closed, as they called it, for the large shoe shop near by. At last the gossip reached Mrs. Hetherton, whose guest the colonel was, and who felt it her duty to re- monstrate seriously with the gentleman. The colonel listened to her in a dazed kind of way, until she said. although no harm would come to him, he certainly could notwish to damage the girl’s good name by attentions which were not honorable. yqu “No, only half,” Philip . replied. "My grand ather Ferguson was twice married, and mother was the child of his first wife. Grandâ€" ma Ferguson, as most everybody calls her, is only my step-grandmother, and Mrs. Hether ton was her daughter Margaret, and, as I’ve heard the most beautiful girl in Merrivale. It was her beauty, of course, whiah attracted Mr Hetherton, and 1' Imagine it was a love match, for he was proud as Lucifer and very rich, while she was poor andâ€"audâ€"well, she was a Ferguson,” and Philip changed 0011 r a little as he said this; then. as Mr. Beresford looked curiously at him he added, laughingly. “not that I am in the least ashamed of my relatives, for I am not. They do not afi'vct me one whit. I am just what I am, and a cart load of Fergusons can’t hurt me, though I’ll confess that grandma and Aunt Lydia do try me at times. But wait and see what Miss Reinette thinks of them. She’s all Ferguson on one side of the house ; no haliblood there. When are you going over to investigate the place, and wouldn‘t you like me to go with INTRODUCING MORE OF THE CHARACTERS. I?” CHAPTER II. “Thank you, Colonel Rossiter. You have said enough for me to understand you fully. You may be proud. butI em prouder still, and I decline your offer, which, the way you made it, was more an insult than an honor. I know I am poor, and that fathel is onlya day laborer, but a. better, truer, worthiet man never lived and I hate you for thinking to make me ashamed of him ; while his wife, though not my mother, has always been kind to me, and I will never turn my back upon her, never! The man who marries me will marry my family, too, or, at least W111 recognize them. I wish you good morning, sir," and she walked from the room with all the hauteur of an oflended duchessJeaving the crest-fallen colonel alone, ,and very much bewildered and uncertain as to what had happened. We have dwelt this long upon the woeing and wedding of the colonel, because the Ros- siters and Fergusons have as much to do with this story 32 the Hethertons, and because the marriage of Mary Ferguson was the means of bringing about another marriage, without which Reinette, our dainty little queerr. could never have been the heroine of this romance. Mary would hardly have. been human if her sudden elevation to riches and rank had not affected her somewhat. II: did affect her to a certain extent, though the villagers. who watched her curiously, agreed that it did not turn her head, and that she fitted wonderfully well in her new place. “Acts for all the world as if she was born to that grandness, and ain’t an atom ashamed of me, nuther,” Mrs. Peggy said, never once suspecting that Mrs. Rossiter, as she mingled more and more in her husband’s World did sometimes shiver, and grow cold and faint at her old-fashioned ways and modes of speech. As for the father He enjoyed to the full see- ing his daughter a lady, but laughed at her endeavors to mold and polish him. “ ’Tain’t no use, Mollie,” he would say. “You can’t make a whistle out of a pig’s tail and you can’t make a gentleman of me. My hard’old hand shave worked too long in stone and mortar to be cramped up in gloves or to handle them wide forks of yourn. I shall allus eat with mv knife ; it comes natural-like and easy, and shall drink my tea in mv sasser. But I like to see you go through with the jimcracks. and think you orter. if the colonel wants you to. Yo 1 allus had the makin’ of a lady even when your hands, where the dia- monds is now, was cut and soiled with hard waxed ends, and nobody ’11 think the wus of you, unless its some low-minded, jealous per- son who, when they see you in your best silk gownd may say how you was once poor as you could be, and closed nigger shoes for a. livln’. That’s human nater, and don’t amount to nothin’. But, Mollie, though you can’t lift Peggy nor me, there’s your sister Margaret growin’ up as pretty and smart a gal as there is in Merri- vale. You can give her a hist if you will, and mebhy she’ll make as good a match as yon. She’s the prettiest creetur I ever see.” This wasa concession, uni Mary, who, while standing by her family. had not been insensihle to the good fortune offered her, surrendered. and in less than a month was Mrs‘ Colonel Rossiter. and mistress of the handsome stone house. where her father was always made welcome, and her step-mother treated with kindness and con- sideration. And in this John Ferguson was right. for Margaret was even more beautiful than her sister Mary. To the same dazzling purity of complexion. and large, lustrous blue eyes, she added a sweetness of expression and a soft- ness of manner and speech unusual in one who had seen so little of the world, and which procured for her the souhriquet of “ The Rose of Merrivale.” Mrs. Rossiter, who was al- lowed to do whatever she pleased, ,acted upon her father‘s suggestion and had her sister often with her. and took her to Beston for a winter, and to Saratoga for a season, and it. was in the Rossiter carriage that Frederick Hetherton first remarked the fresh, lovely young face which was to be his destiny. He might, and probably had, seen it before in church, or in the shop where he occasionally went for beer, but it. had never struck him just as it did now, framed in the pretty chip hat, with the blue ribbons vieing with the deeper. clearer blue of the large bright eyes which flashed a smile upon him as he invol- untarily lifted his hat. A week went by, and then the colonel sent his love aletter of six pages. in which.he capitulated generally. Not only would he recognize the family, but in proof thereof he would buv the large stone house called the Knoll, which was at present unoccupied, and he had heard for sale; Here they would live. in the summer at least, and during the winter she might like Boston for a. change. but he would not insist upon any- thing Which did not meet her approval. All he wanted was herself and that he must have. But it was not. for Mary Ferguson’s blue eyes had played the very mischief “ith the Colonel‘s heart-strings. and he could not give her up, and the next. day he told her so in a letter of three pages, which she promptly re- turned to him, with the words : It came to him at last that he was refused by Mary Ferguson, the girl who closed shoes for a living. and whose step mother made and sold root beer. “ Is the girl crazy 7" he asked himself, as he precipitately left the house. “Does she know What she was about to refuse meâ€"me who would have made her a lady ! And she says she hates me. because I will not marry her family. Well, well, it’s my first; experi- ence at love-making, and I think it will be my last.” “ Tho man who marries me must recognize my family.” He did not finish the sentence, for Mary had disengaged her hands from his by this time, and he always insisted that the struck at him, as she rose from her seat and. with flashing eyes. looked him straight in the face, while she said : Fred Hetherton was very fond of pretty faces, and it was whisperel that he did not always follow them for good, and there were rumors afloat of large sums of money paid by his father for some of his love affairs, but, however that might be, his intentions were always strictly honorable with regard to Margaret Ferguson. At first his pride was greatly shocked when he learned who she was, for he was quite as proud as any of the Hethertons, and he shrank from Aunt Peggy more than Mr. Rossiter had done. But Mm- garet's beauty overcame every scruple at last, and when his father, who had heard some- thing of it in town, asked him if it were true that he was running after old Ferguson’s "I do not mean that you are never to see them,” he said, “but anything like intimacy would be very undesirable, for there would be a great difi‘eience between your position as my wife and theirs, andâ€"” Then he roused up, and without a word of I d ) ghter, he answered boldly‘ “Yes, and I reply, started for town. and enteiing Peggy’s shop, strode on to the back room, where Mary sat at her work, with her gingham apron on and her hands besmeared with the shoe- maker’s wax she was obliged to use in her work. They were, nevertheless. very pretty hands, small and white, and dimpled, and somehow the colonel got them both between his own, and before the astonished girl knew What he was about, he had asked her to be his wife, and told her how happy he would make her, provided she would forsake all her family connections and cleave only unto him. int nd to make her my wife.” A terrible scene ensued, and words were spoken which should never have passed beâ€" tween father and son. and the next day Fred Hethertnn was missing from his home and Margaret Ferguson was missing from her’s, and two days later Aunt Peggy donned her best clothes and went over to Hetherton place and claimed relationship with its owner by virtue of a letter just received from her daughter, who said she was married the previous day, and signed herself “Margaret Hetherton.” Then the father swore his big- gest oaths, said his son was his no longer, Upon the elder Mr. Beresford, who had been the general legal adviser. devolved the duty of huntingnp the heir, who was found living in Par sand who wrote to Mr. Beres- ford, asking himto take charge of the estate and remit to him semiannually whatever in- come these might be accruing from it. The house itself was to be shut up as Frederick wrote that he did not care if the old rookery rotted to the ground he would never go back to live in it ; never go to America. at all, but he would neither have it sold or rented. he said. And so it stood empty year after year, and the damp and mold gathered upon the roof, and the boys made the windows a. target for stones and brick-bats, and the swallows built their nests in the wide-mouthed chim- neys, and the bats and. owls flew unmo- lested through the robms, where once the aristocratic Mrs. Hetherton trailed her velvet gowns ; and the superstitious ones of Merri- vale said the place was haunted and avoided it after nightfall. and over the whole place there brooded an air of desolation and decay. Nothing could he colder or more unsatls factory than were these brief line; to the sorrowful parents, to whom it Would have been some comfort to know how their daughter died and who was with her at the last, and if she hada. thought or word for the friends across the water, who would never see her again? But this solace was denied them, for though Mrs. Roesiter wrote twice to the old addresq of Mrs. Hetherton in Paris, she never received a reply, and so the years paSSed on, and the history of poor Margaret’s short married life and death was still shrouded in mystery and gloom, when General Hetherton died without a will ; and, asamatter of-course, his property went to his only child, who, so far as the people knew, had never sent him a. line since he had lived abroad. Thus it is not strange that the letter to Mr. Beresford announcing his return to America. and speaking of his daughter. was a Iurprise and revelation both, for no one had ever dreamed there was a. child born to poor Mar- garet before her death. In fact, the Fergusons themselves had almost forgoteu the existence of Mr. Hetherton, and had ceased to speak of him. though John. who had now been dead {our years or more. had talked much in his last sickness of Margaret, or Maggie, as he called her, and had said to his wife: “Something tells meyou will yet be brought very near to her. I don’t know exactly how, but if she may she’ll come back to you ; not Maggie herself, but something; it is not clear quite.” And now at last she was coming back in the person of a daughter, but Grandma Fer- guson did not know in yet. Only Mr. Beres- ford and Philip held the secret, for 001. Rossiter counted for nothing, and these two were driving toward Hethernon Place on the warm June afternoon of the day when our story opens. To this letter Mrs. flossiter replied, asking her sister if she were really content and happv, but there came no response, and nothing more was heard from Margaret until she wrote of failing health and that she was going to Italy to see what a. milder climate would do for her. Weeks and weeks went by, and then Mr. Hetherton himself wrote to Mr. Ferguson as follows : “ GENEVA, SWITZERLAND, May 15th, 18â€". “ Mr. FERGUSON,â€"Y0ur daughter Margarrt died sud‘ienly of consumption in Rome, the 10th of last month, and was buried in the Protestant burylna ground. Then the older Beresford died, and Arthur. succeeded him in business and took charge of the Hetherton estate, and twice each year wrote formal business letters to Mr. Hether- ten. who sent back letters just as formal and brief. and never vouchsafed a. word of infor mation concerning himself or anything per taining to his life in France. notwithstanding that Mrs. Rossiter once sent a note in Mr. Beresford’s letter, asking about her sister’s death. but to this there was no reply, except the message thatfiehe died in Rome as he had informed her family at the time. Scurcely any two men could be more uu like each other than the two men who walked slowly through the Hetherton grounds, com~ menting on the neglected, ruinous condition everywhere apparent, and the vast amount of lab.>r necessary to mature the park and gar; den to anything like beauty or order. A terrible scene ensued, and words were spoken which should never have passed beâ€" tween father and son. and the next day Fred Hethertnn was missing from his home and Margaret Ferguson was missing from her’s, and two days later Aunt Peggy donned her best clothes and went over to Hetherton place and claimed relationship with its owner by virtue of a letter just received from her daughter, who said she was married the previous day, and signed herself “Margaret Hetherton.” Then the father swore his big- gest oaths, said his son was his no longer, that he was glad his wife had died before she knew of the disgrace, and ended by turning Peggy from his door and bidding her never dare claimhcquaintanceship with him, much less relationship. What he wrote to his son in reply to a letter he received from him announcing his marriage no one ever knew, but the result of it was that Frederick determined to go abroad at once, and wrote hisifather to that effect, adding that with the fortune left him by his mother he could live in luxury abroad, and asked no odds of his father. This was true, and Mr. Hether- ton had no redress, but walked the floor of his great lonely rooms foaming with rage and gnashing his teeth, while the Fergusons were crying over the letter sent to them by Margaret who was then in New York, and who wrote of their intended departure for Europe. Mr. Beresford, as the elder, will naturally sit first for his mental and physical photo- graph. In age he was probably not more than thirty five, though he looked and ap- peared somewhat older than that. He had received a first-class education at Yale. and when he entered the law he devoted himself to it with an energy and assit‘uity which, had he lived in a larger town than Merrivale. would have placed him at the head of his profe<sion. There was no half wav work with him. Whatever he did, he did with all his might. and his services were much sought after by people in the towns around Merri- She was very happy. she said, though she did want to come home for a few days just to bid them good-by, but Frederick would not allow it. She would write to them o‘ten, and never, never forget them. Then came a few lines written on ship-board. and a few more from Paris, telling of terrible homesickness, of Frederick’s kindness, and the pearls and blue silk dress he had bought her. Then followed an interval of silence,a.nd when Mar- garet wrote again a change seemed to have come over, and her letters were stilted and constrained like those of a. person writing under restraint. but showed signs of culture and improvement. She was still in Paris, and had. me<ters in French and music and dancing. but of her husband she said very little. except that he was well, and once that he had gone to Switzerland with a party of French and English, leaving her alone with a waiting-maid whom she desurlbed as a para- gon of gnodness. WHOLE NO. 1,155.-â€"â€"NO. 12. ME. BEBESFORD AND PHIL. CHAPTER III. Yoizrs. “ F. HETHERTON.” At the time our story opens Phil was twen- ty-five years old, though from the delicacy of his complexion he looked younger, and might easily have passed for twenty-one. Tall, willowy. and graceful in figure. he was. like all the Ferguson race, blue-eyed and fair.with a profusion of soft brown hair. which curled just enough to save it from stillness. People called him handsome, with his frank, open, boyish face and winning smile; but he hated himself for it, as a handsome man was an abomination, he thought, and he had times of hating himself generally, because of that nat- ural distaste to application of any kind, which kept him from being what he felt sure he was capable of being it he could but rouse himself to action. Had he been a woman, he would have made a capital dressmaker, for he knew all the details of a lady‘s dress, from the ar- rangement of her hair to the fit of her boot, and could detect at a glance any incongruity in color, and style, and makeup. To his sisters he was invaluable as a critic, and no article which he condemned was ever worn again. It was strange. considering how un- like to each other they were. that Phil and Mr. Beresford should be as fast friends as they were Each understood perfectly the peculiarities of the other, and each sought the other’s society continually. With Mr. Beresford the fact that Phil was a Rossiter covered a multitude of sins.\vhile more demo- cratic Phil cared but little who Mr. Beres- ford’s family were, but liked the lawyer for himself, and spent a great deal of time in his office, where he once actually began the study of law. but gave it up as soon as a party of his coll ege friends asked him to join an ex- cursion to the Adirondacks, and he never re- sumed it again. From the description given of our two young men the reader will un- doubtedly think them far from perfect. And so they are, for our story is made up of very faulty characters, but natural ones withal, and such as We know and meet every day of our existence. We do not believe our readers will like Philip Possiter the less for thislittle incident. or because even in his youngmanhood he had a mouth which any woman, young or old, might like to kiss. A handsome month it was, with full red lips which always seemed just ready to break into a, merry, saucy laugh. but which you felt intuitively had never been polluted by an oath, or vulgar word, or low ins.nuation against anyone. In thought. and Word and deed he was as pure as any girl, and held all women in the utmost respect. because his molher was a woman. ”Forgive you. Phil? Of course I will, with all my heart, and kiss you. too. Any woman. young or old, would like to kiss a mouth like yours.” “ For the dear Lord’t sake how you sent me. thu; upon airth brought you here 1" she exclaimed, turning toward him with her night cup border flying back, and her tallow candle in her hand. Phil was half crying, too, as he replied : “ Icould not go aWay without kissing you once more, and having you kiss me. You haven’t done so since that time I got so plauuy mad and called you names. I’ve cried about. is fifty times, I‘ll bet. I want you to forgive it, and kiss me, too. I’m awful sorry, granny.” The pet name for her in his babyhood, and which he had long since discarded, dropped from his lips naturally now, and putting down her tallow dip the old lady took him in her arms and nearly strangled him as she subbed : Always peculiar, Col. Rossiter had grown more and more peculiar and absent minded with every year’ of his married life, and as a natural consequence his wife, whose character was stronger than his, had developed into a. self-reliant, independentwoman, who managed her husband and his afifairs admirably, and for the most part let her children manage them- selves. Especially was this the case with Phil, who was her idol, and whom she rather enâ€" couraged in his idleness. There was money enough, she reasoned. for the colonel was one of those fortunate men in whose hands everything turns to gold, and there was no need for Phil to apply himself to business for several years at least. By and by when he came to marry,it might be wellenough to have some, but at present she liked him near her ready to her bidding, and no queen ever re- ceived more homage, or a mother more love, than, did Mrs. Rossiter from her son. For her sake he would do anything, dare anything, or endure anything, even to the Fergusons, and that was saying a great deal, for they were not a. family whose society he could en- joy. But his mother was a Ferguson. and he was bound to stand by them, and if the vul- garity of Mrs. Lydia, his Uncle Tom’s wife,or the silly afi‘ectation of his cousin Anna, ever made him shudder, he never gave a sign, but bore up bravely and proudly, secure in his own position as a Rossiter and a gentleman. She never called hiiii so again, or kissed him either, until the night three years later when he was going away to school next day. And then she did not offer it herself. She said good-bye to him, and God bless you, at his father's house, and Went back to her own home, where she had lived alone since her husband‘s death. and which seemed lonelier to her than ever, because on the morrow the boy Phil would be gone. Phil was her idol, he pride, and his daily visits to her had made much of the su:.sniue of her life, and as she undresseJ herself for bed, and then 'went to wind the tall clock in the kitchen corner, the teams rolled down her face and dropped from the end of her nose. which she blew vigorous- ly on her buff and White checkered handker- chief. She was a little deaf, and standing with her back ‘to the street door she in irher sew not heard anything until she felt a pair of arms close tightly around her neck, and Phil’s lips were pressed against hers. â€"It was not a Presidential candidate at Cincinafiti but Robert Lowe, who said of him- splf: “There are (our latin verbs only which are both active and passive, and they exactly express my positionâ€"vapulo, I am beat; veno, I am sold; exec, I am out; fio, I am done. To his grandmother he was always atten- tive. She was not his own blood relation, he reasoned. and she was old, and so he allowed her to petand fondle him to such an extent as sometimes to fill him with disgust. Only once had he rebelled against her maudlin tender- ness, and that when a. boy of ten. “Granny’s baby,” she was wont to call him in her gush- ing mood, and this sobriquet had been adopt- ed by his school fellows, who made his life so great aburden that at last on one occasion, when she said to him as she patted his youna, fresh face, “ Is he granny’s baby? Yes, he is granny’s baby. He likes to be called granny‘s baby,” he revolted‘ openly, and turning fiercely upon the astonished woman, exclaimed : “ You jus‘ hush up, old woman, I’ve had enough 01 that. I ain’t your baby“ I ain’t no-body’s baby. I’m 'ten years old, and Wear roundabou's. and I’ll be darned if I’ll be called a baby any longer.” . - u In stature he was medium size for a. man, but finely formed, with a head set erect and square upon his shoulders, and crowned with a profusion of dark brown hair. which curled. slightly around hisforehead. His complexion. was dark, almost swarthy, in fact, and his eyes thnso round, bright, restless eyes which mako you uncomfortable when fixed npon you, beu cause they seem to be reading your inmost secrets and weighing all your thoughts and motives. Business he had none ; employment none; but for this useless life his mother was, per- haps, more in fault than be, for she was vir- tually the moving power of the family, or, as the villagers termed it, ” the man of the house." , vale. so that he was always occupied an! busy. But whether it was from frequem contact with the class of people with when he often had to deal, or from something innate in himself, he distrusted human na- ture. and did not always throw over the fault! of others the broad mantle of that charity which thinketh no evil until the evil it proved ; and those who dealt with him most intimately found him hard and unsympathetic, though always perfectly honorable and up. right. [To BE CONTINUEDJ