~ sum- ,râ€"gw ~ - THE DEAN AND lllS DAUGHTER CHAPTER XXV. I was walking dowr the High Street one day looking in at the shop windows. rather than about me.wi;en,forsomereason brother, I threw my eyes across the road, and saw approachznz me on the other side of the way the Very Reverend the Dean of Sslchester accompained by no less or other an ecclesiastic than the Very Reverend the Dean of Southwick, and my eyes me: '. use of the two. I made a bow which was most unmis- akably directed to the Dean of Salcliester 5 alone, and intended to exclude his com- piuion, and then quickeninz my pace walked into the very ï¬rst shop which gave me achance of retreat, and which, provi- dentially, was a milliner’s and ladies’ drapera. Here I made several small purchases, loitering over them untilI could see that the coast was perfectly clear, and then' I sallied out, and, as quickly as I could, hurried home. What was I to do? I did not want to leave Salchester if Icould possibly help it. The Meadowsweet trouble if I may so term it, was most probably doomed to a natural death as soon as it was seen that Mr. Meadowsweet and myself continued friends in earnest and not in seeming merely. But my father would be certain, out of mere malice. totell the story from his own point of view, and with his own embellish- ments, to the Dean and to everybody else. He would prefer them to the cruelly misleading reports in the papers, of which I felt certain that his vanity had prompted him to make an album, if only for the value of the sen tencc in which the reporters described the manifest emotion and positive anguish with which he had given his evi- dence. And, when I came to recollect it what a malignant tissue of lies that evidence had been, and how craftin framed to discredit me to the utmost possible extent. This much I might take for granted. Then came the question what would follow: and here I was fairly puzzled. assume with the view of concealing your past history. “Under such circumstances I could have , had but one opinion if you had in any way ‘ misled us by any positive and direct un- = truth. But it would be :nost unfair to lsugges: for a moment that you have at. f tempted to do so. I have heard, more , than once, that you have always spoken of ' your past life as having been sad and ’ sorrowful and nave begged to be excused i from making any reference to it. This shows an honorable intention on your part, 2 but if there has been nosvygm‘iqrhlafï¬here has certainly been a siipprc‘a‘sio reri, which very nearly approaches to it. “You have, for instance, (not that I put ; the point as influencing my own judgment, i but as one which might very well present , itself most unfavorany to the judgment of lothers), allowed yourself to publicly par- : take of the most sacred ordinances of the ‘ Church. That you should have done so is entirely matter for your own ccnscience. I do not presume to question your conduct, ; or to impute to you for a moment any un- i worthy motive. But other ministers of the Church might very well take a different i view, and probably would. I “ I am sure you will acquit me," he l l went on, “of any desire to judge harshly of your conduct, or to in any way dictate ‘ to you. But I cannot help thinking, you will upon reflection agree with myself, that it is advisable that you should leave Salchester. Personally, I shall be sorry to lose you, and I may say the same most unreservcdly for my wife. But you will, Icannot but feel, see that by stopping here you will place many members of the :Chapter, together with their families, in a. ‘position of the greatest difï¬culty and of good feeling, lduty, if not _indeed of positive you ought to do your best at any l personal sacriï¬ce to avoid.†I It is refreshing to meet a gentleman. ;even though he may he bigoted. And I ldoubt, after all, whether clergymen are by [any means so bigoted as it is the custom to represent them. And once again I could not help :hinking of my father, and reflect- ing how meanly and shabbin he had be- haved, not only all through his pitiful'his- tory, but in this last miserable incident in its course. Had there been a spark of manhood in his soul he would have bitten off his tongue sooner than have used it of deliberate mal- ice to drive me out of my little harbor of retuge. “ You are very kind,†Isaid, looking him . ' - r ‘ ‘ u , For the world, as an old proverb runs, is Iran“) "1 “be “we, and I am ‘el'y grill-5' divided into men, women, and priests, and if the two ï¬rst are apt at times to puzzle you, you can certainly say of ecclesiastics as a class, that it is utterly impossible ever to tell how they will act under any given set of circumstances, or even whether they will act at all. So I went back to my lodgings ip a most; unpleasant state of uncertainty. I was no going to \llow myself to be distressed at the me. " matter. let it turn out how it might ; but it Would be a dist nct aï¬'ectation to pretend for a moment that I was not very bitterly annoyed. Early next morning, while I was still wondering what might happen, I was, I cannot butconfess, astonished to be told that the Dean himselfâ€"not the Dean of Southwick,but the Dean of Salchester itself -â€"would be glad to see me if I Were disen- gaged. I, of course, replied that I should be delighted to see him, and in he came. I have hitherto omitted to describe Dr. Propert, and I may perhaps (Osveniently do so at this point. Unlike my father, he had taken a high University degree, and had for some years acted as a Fellow and Tutor of his College. In this capacity he had preached several University sermons, which without being markedly heterodox or mili- tantly orthodox, had yet given rise to con- siderable discussion of a character entirely favorable to their author. After this he had been invited to preach what I believe are termed show sermons to fashionable and critical London congrega- tions, who, like the Athenians in the days of Paul. are always seeking after somet'iing new. This had led to his gracious notice by a certain most exalted personage, through whose personal influence he had been elevated to the Deanery of Salchester, with the entire concurrence not only of the I fashionable world, but of Printing House Square, the inspired voice of which pro-l nuanced him to be. in these days of doubt] and difï¬culty, perhaps the very best man that could have been selected for the pre- cise piece of preferment in question, and had gone on to draw a most learned and interesting parallel between him and Cyril of Alexandria, and Tillotson, and Keble, and a dozen or so of other eminent ecclesi- astics. Personally, fortune had favored Dr. Pro- pert. He was a man of fine presence, if notnltcgetiier of handsome features, and would have made a capital ï¬eld ofï¬cer of Foot Guards. He was now, to all appear- ances,just about the wrong side of ï¬fty, but by very little, and now that Iam recal- ling these details, I may as well add that he had a faultless seat in the saddle, and in many other respects contrasted more than fivorably with the county squires of the neighborhood. ‘ Aftera little exchange ofseutences about nothing in particular, the Dean told me. as I had expected, that he came to speak 3 to me as a matter of duty, upon a very painful and difficult subject. . I had guessed as much, and I told him so. “That is why," he continued, I have. taken the perhaps unusual course of calling I alone, because I wish, if you desire it, that what passes betwtnen us should be known to no one bu: ourselves, unless you think fit to make it public on your own ac- count.†. "I shall certainly respect your conï¬- dence," lanswereii, “ whatever it may be that you have to say.†“ You are very kind," he replied “ and I think you will be acting prudently. Of course you saw me yesterday with your father, who was somewhat surprised at- seeing you here. and from whom I gath~ cred with astonishment, and I must also admit not without a considerable amount of pain, that you had been stopping amongst in order a name, which you under mistaken advice, in George Sabine I also told the. truth. my father I also told the truth, without concealing any portion of it, and carefully in! to you for the interest you have evinced in me. I think, upon the whole, you are right, and I promise you, although of course I am in no way bound to do so, that I will leave Salchester as soon as I can possibly make the necessary arrangements. I shall be very sorry to go, and still more sorry to lose several among you whom I have already learned to consider as my friends ; but I al- most agree with you that whether up to now I have been acting rightly or wrongly,there is now, at any rate, but one course open to “Believe me, it is so,†he answered. "Obviously I shall keep my own counsel,†I continued, “as to the causes of my depar- tuie ; and in return for this promise, I have one favor to ask of you, and that is to let me now, and here, shortly tell you the true story of my marriage, and of my divorce, and to form your own opirim t nit as to my father’s share in the events it contains. †“You have a clear right to ask that of me," he answered, but with an air of evi- dent relief at seeing the business end as he had wished. “It is my duty, under the circumstances, to hear and to thoroughly consider and test anything you may have to say.†' Would any woman have done otherwise than I did? I told him the whole story from beginning to end, leaving out nothing that told against me, and carefully doing justice, as I always have done and always shall do in my own mind, to the highly honorable and digniï¬ed manner in which my husband had acted throughout. I spoke of him without a word of bitter- ness. always found himâ€"honorable, and, but for Oi Of his foibles: a man to be admired. avoiding anything that might be construed into vindictiveness. And I then added, what of course he knew, that I had come to Salchester solely to hide myself and to rest. “ And now,.\lr.Dean,†I concluded,rising and offering my hand, “I must seek rest and a hiding-place elsewhere. I shall go as soon as possible, and I can only hope that I shall be as soon as possible forgotten." The Dean was cordial in his manner, but evidently relieved at the torn affairs had taken. , “ You will certainly not be forgotten at the Deanery, Lady Craven," he said. “ I have no secrets from my wife, but she and I will always think well and kindly of you. I can answer for her as certainlyos for my- self. Slioulnl chance bring us anywhere together again, pray remember that we consider you our friend, and hold you in the list of our friends. I am sure you are right in going, and were I you, I should not needlessly defer my departure. Let me again assure you of my full belief in all you have told me, and of my sorrow and sym- pathy. He shook hands very cordially and took his leave, and some two hours afterwards his gardener brought round a lovely bouque: of flowers, attached to which was Mrs. l’ropert's card, and the intimation in her autograph that they came with her kindest regards. Isaw the messenger myself, and with a heavy heart sent back a message of thanks. By noon next day I had completed all my arrangements, paid all my bills, disposed of my pony and carriage, and taken an af~ fectionate farewell of my little maid, whose sorrow at having to leave me was only equalled by her astonishment at the unex- i deposn boos". assuring her of the fact that five pounds stood to her credit. I took her round to the Post Office myself, and went through the necessary formalities. The poor child was fairly amazed, but I am sure that the present had nothing whatever to do with her manifestations of ibly actinglregret at my departure, which were very been led to sincere and, in spite of herself, denionstra~ embarrassment; and this, as a. mere matter “ I spoke of him in fact as I ad pected present of a Post Ofï¬ce savings bank’ tive. She was a nice bright girl. and l hope she has married 0: will marry a good bus- band. I had written to Mr. Meadowsweet a re- quest which he could hardly refuse, that he should be at the station to see me 06. He was there as boldly and as regardlessly of possible Salchester opinion as need be. And he also was armed with some hot-house flowers which I knew must have come down from London, and with a copy of the Christian Ymr. He saw me into my carriage, remained talking to me at the door, did not ï¬nally shake hands until the train had begun to move, and then stood watching it from the platform until it turned a curve before reaching the bridge over the river, and so hid him from sight. I put the flowers by and opened the book. Right across the title-page he had written in his own bold, clear hand, “ Lady Craven. from Sebastian Meadowsweet, with every hearty good wish.†He at any rate was not ashamed that, should know we had been the closest of friends and possibly even more. Ido not mind confessing that I kissed the volume and put it tenderly by in my travelling bag before turning to a yellow covered ecclesiastical novel of Trollope ’s which I had purchased at the bookstall as being more or less appropriate to the occa- man. So the trainâ€"it was the expressâ€"tore on through the pleasant country until we began to reach canals, and then brick-ï¬elds. and then suburbs, and at last drew up in that busy focus of life, the Great “'estern Terminus at Paddington. A brougham, for which I had written, was waiting for me, and I very quickly found myself again within the hospitable portals of Rawlings’, tired with my journey, ready for supper, and a little annoyed that it was too late that night to go to the play. I badly missed my little maid, but there was my supper at any rate, and there are worse things after a long journey than a good English mutton outlet and a glass of champagne. My sleep that night was sound and it was past ten o’clock the next morn- ing before I rang fir my chocolate. I I'm far as I was concerned, all the world -â€" CHAPIER XXVI. After a couple of days again devoted to maps and guide-books, with their corres~ ponding pros and cons, I decided upon Easthampton as my future abode. I was very much in the position of a chess-player who apparently has all the board open to him, while in reality every square is hopelessly blocked. There are plenty of foreign watering-places but in every one of them there was the certainty, rather than the risk, that my husband would be perfectly well known by reputa- tion at any rate, and that I myself should be recognized. England was my better chance, though even in England there were difficulties. At one time I almost thought of the Chan- nel Islands, where, so long as you pay your bills. once a week with regularity, nobody cares who you are, what you are, or what may be your destination, either in this world or the next. But the Channel Islands, except for a. very few weeks in each year, are practically as remote from civilization as the South Sea Archipelago itself, and far certainly less enjoyable. So I gave the preference to England,and, as I have said, pitched upon Easthainpton, of which I could say. with even more truth than the Tichborne Claimant said of Wop- ping, that I had never been there in my life, but had heard that it was a very re- spectable place. Easthampton is on the South Coast,somc- where between the Solent on the east, and Plymouth on the west. It was originally a ï¬shing village, and that too, not so many years ago. A London physician liked the air and built himself a Swiss chalet there. Little by little he began to buy up the land “as an ox licketh up the grass of the ï¬eld.†Then he built one or two pleasant villas, which he let, on distinctly advantageous terms, to brother medical men. It was then discovered for the ï¬rst time that the air of Easthampton would arrest consumption in its earliest stages, and was an absolute spe- ciï¬c for all infantile diseases. Fashionable valetudiuarians flocked to it. The railway opened a branch line. Old .‘Esculapius was wise in his generation: he intended to be a baronet, and to found a family. There were three hotels in the place ; but he would only allow one public- house, and sternly refused so much as a mod of land for a dissenting conventicle of any denomination whatever. The old land jobber’s wealth grew like that of Jacob Astor himself. The fore- shore, which he had purchased by the acre, he let out on building leases by the square foot. As there were no poor in the place, no poor-rate, and nothing even remotely approximating to a slum, the average mor- tality was astonishingly low. And at last apier was built, not for the vulgar purposes of commerce, but- to afford a promenade and a landing place for yachts. For me Essthampton had this great ad- vantageâ€"that I should not be likely to be identiï¬ed unless I went into society in my own name, which I had no intention of do- ing,and also that, although the place was expensive, it was yet quite within my means. Accordingly I took Sea View Bungalowâ€" so-called, Isupposcbecauseithad noveranda, a second floor, and a set of garrets over that -â€"and I furnished it modestly and unpre- tentiously, but very prettily, although I say it, gave my taste full scope. I also, ofcourse, started not a pony-basket, buts. respectable victoria, with a strong sedate cob. I took three seats in the parish church, and sub- scribed liberally toall the charities; but carefully avoided acquaintance of the min- isters of the altar, who, with their Wives and daughters, knew their “ Crockford†as well as the members of the Irish peerage knew their “ chrett.†My exercise beyond the bungalow garden was a daily drive. If I wanted a walk I drove a mile out up into the country, dis- missed my carriage with intructions to the coachman to meet me again, and took my walk by myself among the-lanes. It was a dull life and yet a very pleasant one. I had my flowers. I took tobree ling canaries, and I had a regular supply of books from London through the railway bookstall. I thus had enough to do ; and if I am told that my days must have hung heavily on my hands, I can only answer that I was busy and he py as compared with what I had been eit er at Ossulsion, or in St. James’s Square, or even at Sal- cheater. I Hugo Cardinalis. l ment on the whole Latin Bible. I dwell upon all this, because I might otherwme seem to be hurrying my story. m. i C ’* ~ I A PITIABLE SPECTACLE. I! But for the present, at any rate, I am in A Settlement of the tuned states Tar-m an uneventful part of it. Had I krpt a diary it would have been a blank for day after day, little better or more signiï¬cant- than the wooden cross of Robinson Crusoe, nore Icmoie Than Ike-r. The news of the past few days from Washington only shows that the :arifl’situa~ with its six consecutive short notches lion is in a more unfortunate way than regularly followed by a deep one. At last, however, the time came. The barracks were ï¬nished, and the cavalry, a regiment of Dragoons, and the infantry, a battalion from a double battlion Linc regiment, came down to their new quarters, ï¬lling the whole place with animation and bustle. As soon as they had settled dowu com- fortably, it began to be known that the Queen's Musketeer's intended giving a ball and inviting all the residents who were what might be ofï¬cially described as upon the local Court Directory. I need not say that Mrs. Gascoigneâ€"that is to say. myselfâ€"was among the number of those who received a card of invitation. 1 hesitated for some time. Then I decid- ed to accept but not to go, and to plead a sick headache as an excuse, if I should ever hereafter be asked my reason for stay- ing away. When the evening came. either I must have thought better of the sick headache, or else must have forgotten it, for I most certainly dressed myself very care- fully and went. I want to describe my dress. It was a high-cut black velvet of that kind which announces its excellence by the way in which its folds hang. It was trimmed with pointdace. and my jewels were my favorite pearls. Beyond thoseI wore no jewelry whatever, except a large ï¬re opal. stone is not one which ladies as a rule effect; but for myself, I have always had asort of superstitious fancy for it. I knew as I entered the room that there was not a woman in it better dressed than myself, or, to speak quite candidly, with anything like my taste. And men have an instinct over taste in a woman’s dress exactly as women have an instinct over wine, al- though wholly ignorant of vintages, and even of brands. I danced most of the square dances, de- clined the round dances, was taken down to supper by the major himself, and yield- ed to his entreaties that after supper I would join the cotillon. I was then driven rapidly home and went to bed with the proud consciousness that I had scored a distinct triumph among the men, while giv- ing the women aslittle occasion for jealousy as possible. (To an cox'rixrnn.) â€"â€"â€"+______ “ THE BOOK OF BOOKS." [low the Bible Was Divided Into Chapters and Verses. he Division of the Scriptures into chap- ters and verses, as we have them, the ancients knew nothing of. This division was the invention of Hugo, a Dominican monk, who died in the year 1262. He be- came a cardinal, and is commonly known as This man wrote a com- In doing this he wanted an index of the Scriptures, and to forward his work he set a great number of monks to collecting the words under their proper classes in every letter of the alphabet. In this way the ï¬rst concord- The ever, and the prospects of the question being satisfactorily settled by the Confer- ence Committee more remote than at any previous stage of the dispute. The tone adopted by Senator Gorman in laying down the law to the President is a sign of the scramble that must» soon take place between the professional politicians for what gain or capital can be made by popular appeals arising out of the gross abuse of duty on the part of the Senate as a chamber. It is worth while to examine the facts which now confront Congress. The tariff bill having been shockingly maltreated in the Senate to advance the interests of cer- tain members of that body, it went on to a Conference Committee so that both Houses might agree upon it. There was no possibil- ity of any such agreement being come to and in due course the representatives of the Senate on the committee brought back to their Housea formal report. Thespeecbes which followed upon the report to the Senate have but served to increase the inharmonious relations of the two Houses. So that, if the dispute is to be continued, the next step_ is to appoint another con- ference committee. If the Senators desire to be more auto~ cratic still, they can at once resolve upon the‘indeï¬nite adjournment of the whole subject. This, however, might- be taking dangerous action. It would make the dis- honest inteptions of the Senators apparent to everybouy, and would greatly strengthen the Bresident. Admittedly the Senate is at war new with the House and with the authority of the President. By sitting down calmly, and ignoring the necessity for any further efforts, sincere or otherwise, to make the passage of the bill a possibility, the second chamber of the Legislature would bring itself into open conflict with the people. Whilst Congress continues sitting the affairs of the country and the interests of all classes of the people, ex- cept the professional politicians and agitat- ors, must go from bad to worse. As long as Senators like German ï¬ght about tech- nicalities they will have the excuse that they are standing out for the independence of the Senate, and full freedom of action within the Constitution. If they give the President an opportunity to do so, he can be relied upon not to hesitate about decisâ€" ive measures of force. It is in him to play the part of dictator, but that must always be a dangerous role. The provocation must now be next to unbearable, for the people. They are suffering outrage with exemplary patience, indeed, while their dishonest and intriguing lc islators keep within the Constitution. ow long they can afford to keep quietisugrave question, for elements are growing up in the west which threaten the national peace, and despite military vigilance, may yet strike at. the unity of the Republic. Never in history has there been such wanton sport made and dangerous liber- ties taken by legislators, whether popular, hereditary or appointed, with the machin- ance of the Bible was constructed. The el'YOf representative government- whole intention of the work of the monks was the easiest ï¬nding of any word or pas- MHâ€" MEASURING ELECTRICITY. sage of Scripture; to make it answer the An Englishman llas Invented a Simple purpose the cardinal found it necessary, in the ï¬rst place, to divide the book into sections, and the sections into other divisions. These sections are the chapters into which the Bible has ever since been divided. When the concordance was pub- lished everybody who read the Bible wanted a. copy, and for the sake of using it all the Bibles of the Western world were divided into chapters. I But the subdivisions of chapters were no then, as now, by verses. Hugo's way of subdividing was by the letters A,B,C,D, E, F,G, placed in the margin at equal distances from each other, according as the chapters were longer or shorter. In long chapters all the seven letters were used, in others fewer, as the length of the chapter was re- quired. The work of Hugo was much im- proved by thosa who followed him, before the close of that century. About the year 1430 there lived among the western Jews a famous rabbi called labbi Nathan. This Jew was much con- versant with Christians, and havmg many disputes with their learned men about their religion, he came to the knowledge and use of the Latin concordance to their Bible. He was so much taken with the work that he set about making such a con- cordance to the Hebrew Bible for the use of the Jews. In composing his work he found it necessary to follow Hugo’s division of the Bible into chapters ; but he did not follow his method of dividing the chapters by the letters A, B, C, etc. He numbered the verses by afï¬xing the numeral Hebrew letters in the margin at every ï¬fth verse, and this has been the usage of the Jews in all their Hebrew Bibles ever since, except that latterly they have introduced the com- mon ï¬gures for numbering the intermediate verses between every ï¬fth. Nathan’s work was completed in 1445. Soon after this a Latin Bible was publish- ed after this pattern, with the chapters divided into verses, and the verses so numc bercd. So that, as the Jews borrowed the division of the books into chapters from the Christians, in like manner the Christians borrowed that of dividing the chapters into verses from the Jews. But to this day the Book of the Law which is read by the Jews in their syna- gogues every Sabbath day has none of these distinctions ; that is, is not divided into verses as the Bible is. -â€"-â€"â€"â€"-â€".-â€"â€"-â€"â€" Forgotten . A child wept bitterly. “ Lost!†it walled. Tho multitude paused and looked with pity upon the picture of distress. “ Lost 1†The multitude swept on its way. “ Lost !†Meanwhile two men and six women, all bearing a strong family resemblance to the borrowing child, tarried in another part of the tent and stared at the giraer eating hay. Yes, they had all come to take care of the little one, and for no other purpose. Sort of Meier. One of the greatest trials of the central station superintendent is the erratic nature of the record of his “diagram,†or, in other words, the irregularity of the demand for current on the part of his customers, says the Pittsburg Dispatch. A “demand indi- cator†has been introduced, a correct means of ascertaining the actual call each consumer makes upon the generating plant of the cen- tral station. The influence of this instru' ment on the habits of the consumer is said to be most salutary for himself as well as for the station. Instead of burning a great many lamps at a time for short periods ho is induced to burn a normal number of lamps for long periods, thereby uncon- sciously “flattening†the station load dia- gram and equalizing the work of the plant over an extended period. At the same time a generous provision is made whenever the consumer wishes to have a special blaze of light. Once a month he gets an electric light “bonus.†He gives twenty-four hours' notice in writing to the station, and the indicator is short circuited for the space of time he desires. He can then burn any number of lamps in excess of his usual maximum, and the demand is not re ister- ed. Another meter for the recording of current used is the invention of an Enâ€" glishman. It is said to measure thesupply of electricity to consumers with as much simplicity and accuracy as can now be obtained in the use of gas. lts action is obviously simple. It is well known that when an electric current is applied to water it generates ; the gas thus generated is collected in a receiver, and by ingenious mechanism the discharge of this gas each time it ï¬lls the receiver moves the record- ing dial similar to that on a gas meter. All the attention the meter requires is said to be the addition of a little water in the course of three or four months. M“ They Make Good Soldiers. A country that can produce good sol- diers ought to be able to raise good offi. cers. That Canada can do the former an American of considerable experience in war has testiï¬ed. Major Edmond Malet said the other day in Boston that Canadians make the best soldiers phyai. cally that he has ever seen. In his com- pany, the 8lst New York Volunteer Infantry, in the late war, he had forty.ï¬vo of them, and no hardships could dampen their gay spirits nor toll exhaust their hard frames. In those terrible forced marches of the army of the Potomac in the ?eniusula, with the thermometer far it in the ninties and the dust a foot deep, w en thousands of men fell out by the road-side, many of them never to march again, these Canadians trudged along cheerily, beguiling the weary way will! joke and song. Q s I. --..s..