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HEART T 0 HEART ; OR, LOVE’S UNERRIXG CHOICE. CHAPTER VL_(C03-.nm-BD_) lroad, and on, till the lights of the little ’I would tell thee. deer. that love is a slave Who dreads thought offreedom. as life dreads the grave ; And if doubt. or terror of change there should Buoh‘ftar would but drive him still clc thee 8" " He gives. and gives all,” murmured the poor girl. were written no one has resigned more for lsve's sake than I have. In giving up l Roger I have indeed given my all.” The increasing coldness of the airâ€"now that the pale Winter sun had set behind the woods of Marhamâ€"warned Hilda that was fast approaching, and slowly and market town trembled in the keen, frosty air. The station was reached, and, cold and tired, Hilda was glad to gain its wel- come shelter. Looking at the clock, the weary girl discovered that she had fully I" to half an hour to wait before the arrivzil of the up express. A porter who was standing about on the “ Surely since those words . lookout for a job perceived her and came forward to relieve her of her bag. He was a stranger to Hilda, so she asked him. to get her acup of tea, and turning into the waiting-room sat down before the splendid fire which blazed in the grate. ‘ The porter brought her the tea and a bath him, and while she sipped the refreshing beverage the man offered to open. At last with a rush and a roar the her final parting from her beloved homelge; he: ticket, the booking office belug sorrowfully she retraced her steps through the deserted park to her own desolate, apartments. I “Do you dine downstairs to-day ma’ain 2" asked Perkins. who was in her mistress’s room when Hilda entered. express train steamed on to the platform, land Hilda. navmg liberally feed the oblig- ing porter, was soon seated in a first class carriage, speeding through the cold, frosty night on the first step of her unknown journey. i In less than an hour the Paddington 'terminus was reached, and feeling, oh so " N°i thank Y0“. Perklmi” “‘3 girllloneiy and weary, Hilda left the carriage answered ; " take some dinner into my land mingled with the stream or eager pass- ,) boudoir, and I shall not change my dress, she added, seeing that Perkins had laid a eugcrs, all clamoring for their luggage. The Christmas holidays were just over and the station was crowded. Hilda Was dress of costly crepe upon the sofa ; “ you pushed and jostled to and fro, and, feeling may put that away." “ Mr. Montacute called while you were out, ma’am,” said the maid, as she pro- ceeded to obey Hilda’s orders and replace the dinner dress in the wardrobe. " He .eemed greatly vexed not to find you at home, and he went into your room and wrote a note; I put it on your writing table, ma’am.” Hilda made no reply, but hastily left the room to possess herself of the last letter which, in all human probability, she would ever receive from Roger Montacute. It was a brief pencil scrawl. and ran as follows; “him so grieved not to see you to- day, my darling; my aunt has given me back my ring and your cruel message, but do not think, Hilda, that I will abide~ by your decision. I utterly refuse to give up my promised wife, and harm told Mrs. Palmer that I‘shall marry you at once, and we will seek a new land: sweetheart, where my strong arm, of which she cannot deprive me, shall work for and protect my wife. I shall see you early to-morrow. Ever your own. Roger.” “ My dear, brave Roger,” murmured Hilda, “ to-morrow I shall be far away. I cannot take advantage of your generosity; I will not. ruin your life,” and sitting down by her writing table she wrote the following reply to his impassioned lilies: very lonely and helpless and forlorn, she zsat down on a bench to wait until the l bustle should have subsided and she could find a porter to answer her inquiries as to where she could procure a lodging for the night. As she sat, weary and dispirited upon the bench on the greatdraughty plat- form, her lovely, pale face, framed in its rich masses of gleaming hair and her exquisite, misty eyes filled With tears. caught the at- tention of a. lady who was passing, and who, after pausing for a moment and attentively regarding the tired figure of the young girl clad in her deep mourning and rich, dark furs, advanced, and in a pleasant, gentle voice asked if she was waiting for a friend. Hilda raised her head and saw before her a tall, tine-looking woman, handsomely dressed in black, her velvet jacket deeply bordered with sable, and a most becoming bonnet of black velvet with azure plumes shading her comely face and silvery hair. The kindly voice and genial manner cheered the girl's drooping spirits, and she answer- ed : “ No, madam, I have no friends in Lon- don : I am quite alone.” “ Then what are you doing here, poor child. alone at this late hour ‘2” asked the lady and Hilda replied : “ I have lost my father and have had to leave my home. I am only waiting to ask a porter to direct me to some hotel where I can pass the night.” “ My poor child,” replied the lady, “ you are too young and pretty to he left to your own deVices :come home with me for to-night, and to-morrow I can. I dare It My Dame“ Roge,_y°ur tender, 10v. Isay, aid younin finding some respectable ing note has touched me deeply, but it has apartments- not altered my decision. Penniless and nameless, I will not let the shadow of my evil fate fall across your path. Farewell forever, darlingz” This slie enclosed in an envelope, and her Guileless,innocent Hilda, lifted her tired eyes to the friendly face that was 'looking down at her, agreed to the stranger’s proposal, and, leaving the crowd- ed station, the lady signalled to a hansom dinner over. “up {or Perkinm land they were soon rapidly driven down “ Tell Parkerto saddle my mare andi ride over to the Temple with this note for l the lamp-lit street. “And what made you come to London, Mr. Montacnte,“ she said, giving her last jmy dear '3" her new aC‘l‘l‘lllll'alll3‘3 “Ind order in her father's house. “ \Vhen is he to go, ma’am i” said her maid. as she took the letter. “He can go now,” rejoined her mistress, i glancing at the hands of the time-piece,; which pointed to half-past seven. ” 'I'liere i is no answer. Perkins, and I shall not red quire you again to-night," and, bidding her mistress a respectful good-night, the maid withdrew. leaving Hilda free to complete her brief preparations for her lonely mid- night journey. , She would have to walk to the neighbor-l iug market town, a distance of five miles, ' in order to catch the express train to town, i which stopped there at half-past nine ; o'clock. She had, therefore. but little time : to spare. bhe had previously attached a5 strap to the travelling bag which contained ; her money and jewels: this she buckled ' round her slender waist, and putting on I sealskin coat and cap. to which she added a thick craps veil,she wrapped herself warm- ly in the large, fur-lined carriage cloak, i which had been purchased for such a farl different journey, and taking the bag which i contained her simple necessaries in her { hand, she opened the door andâ€"her light 3 l l Hilda. And the young girl replied: “I wish to obtain agovarness’s situa- tion. I have had an excellent education, and I have plenty of money to support myself until I hear of something to suit me.” “Where is your baggage,” asked her new friend. “I have brought nothing with me except this bag,” replied the girl, blushing deeply. l “I have my money and jewels here,"touch- ing as she spoke the dressing bag in which she had deposited all her valuables. “I can send for my Leavy luggage as soon as I hear of a situation.” Further conversation was stopped by the arrival of the hansom at. the door of a pretty semi-detached villa, and the strange lady dismounted from the vehicle and opening the door with her latch-key bade the tired, worn-out girl a hearty welcome. “Come in here, mv dear,” she said kind- ly, as she opened the door of a prettily furnished sitting-room at the back of the house. The apartment was bright with fire and gaslight, and in a low chair by the hearth was a tall. slight woman dressed handsomely in a rustling silk of a dark footfall making no sound upon the thick lwme 0010‘, her ll“? elaborately dreaaed carpetâ€"noiselessly descended the stairs. One solitary lamp was burning in thel vast hall to make the darkness and gloom of thel shadowy place more apparent ; the servants ; flea”. were all in their own portion of the manâ€"; sion.uiaking the mental the unusual liberty l and freedom which the absence of a master 3 and mistress enabled them to enjoy. At bright. light streaming from under the. closed door of a small study, where Mr. . above a tired, worn face which once must have been eminently lovely, but which now she emu-ed. which only served bore an expression of nearly self-contempt which too plainly betokened an aching Her deep, brilliant eyes scanned Hilda's face attentively as she rose to bid her welcome. V “Thisismyniece,GeraldineGray,”said the handsome hostess. “ \Vill you get this poor child some tea, love? She is quite exhaust- ed." TiltJ, turning to Hilda, she said: "My Wilmer, w“ 5mm“. was the only sign of daughters are at the theatre to-night, and life perceptible in the great house so lately l sup afterward at. a friend‘s house. They blazing with light, thronged with servants l Will “0L be home “In” late. Mid we never and filled with gay company. so excessively that she could hardly stand, Hilda with difficulty unbarred the heavyi Trembling . keep the servants up." " Pray do not take any trouble for me," ‘ answered Hilda; “ indeed there is no occa- hall door, and, stepping out, softly closed .sion," she added, as Miss Gray rose to leave it behind her. stood outside under the brilliant, frosty stars of that Winter night, she realized for the first time the magnitude of the step she was taking, and knew that she was "out in the cold worlt ." homeless. friendless. with . the door of her only refuge closed behindf her. CHAPTER Vll. nu.“ anuso riitavss. While her life lasted Hilda could never, As the great bar was shot . the {00"}; into its place with a dreary clans: and Hilda E require. . ” A good night's rest is all I " Oh nonsense, my dear," responded her hostess good humoredly. “ Do you think We Londoners are so inhospitable as ' that 3 A good cup of tea Wlll refresh you. and I should advise a spoonful of brandy in it to prevent your taking cold." V ” The Ice will be very welcome, but no Ebrandy, thanks," replied Hilda. “ I never jlike spirits and have a distracting head- i ache." The door at that. moment opened, lid- mitting Miss Gray,wno carried a little tray with adainty tea laid upon it. But Hilda recall without a shudder the events of ; could not eat, though the cold chicken and that night, when she home. leaving fled from her V delicate shoes of bread and butter looked all hope, all happiness, ‘ most tempting, and was glad to follow her behind. The memory of that night recur- v hostess to the pretty bedroom prepared for ring to her‘ln her happiest hours had power l her. to cause her a rang of agony, such as one 3 Bidding her new acquaintance a grateful slippers, she noiseleesly entered Hilda‘s room, and after looking for some time at Ll1¢‘-‘1I3"I!l)' girl asshe lay sleeping profoundâ€" iv. her golden hair scattered over the pillow,she took something from the dressing, table and withdrew as notselessly as she had entered. A How long Hilda had slept she knew not, stood in her deserted apar1metits. Perkins could give him no comfort when he question- Hilda's flight. glooniiest view of the affair. "0h, Sir," she cried repeatedly, “I wish I had not left her alone last night ; l The waiting-maid was bore the same dissolved in tears and disposed to take the lenibtmdcreu in satin stitch, l l l clue to llilda's friends. elaborately that was emblazoned in pearls and pink coral upon her ivory-backtd brushes. When she had been found her long. golden ha;r,unoavered monogram, when she was roused from her feverishlthere nasa wildness in her eyes I didlto the bitter blast, streamed in its rich slunibers ly a bright light shining in her not like, but says she, ‘ l‘erkins,’ says l protusmn over the black si.k cloak, lined she, ‘I shall not require you any more i With Russian sible, which she wore over eyes. Hastily rising from her pillow, she oeiield Miss lx‘ray bending over her. ” “You is the matterI" exclaimed the girl, as she noticed that Miss Gray’s face Was very pale. “ Huih!" replied Geraldine hastily; “rise and dress, and I will tell you.” “ But what is it 3" said Hilda, hardly awake yet, but rising, nevertheless, and beginning to put on her clothes. ” You must dress and flee from this accursed house at once 3" replied the other. “ Child, you do not guess half the evil to which every moment you remain here exposes you E” “ “ by. then, do you stay?" asked l Hilda. frightened by Miss Gray's words and manner. “ Why do I stay 1’” says the latter, with a bitter laugh. “ Because 1 have no other home. Ah, would to heaven some hand had been outstretched to save me when I entered these evil doors 1” “But I do not understand,” said Hilda, terrified, she scarcely knew why, by Ger‘ aidine’s mysterious words. “ My poor girl i" said the older woman, laying her hand very tenderly on the other’s arms, “this house hides many evil deeds, of which I dare not tell you; but as you value your peace and happiness, go at once before the day breaks." ' “ I am going,” sobbed the poor girl, as, with trembling fingers she buttoned her; “ I know you mean i There you will find some one who will find you a night’s lodging. You have money ?” she asked. And Hilda, putting her-hand in her poc- ket, produced ner purseâ€"a dainty toy of pearl and silverâ€"in which she had placed ten sovereigns before setting out on her journey. “I have plenty here for the present,” said the girl, “and have also a large sum of money, besides souie'valuable jewels in my dressing bag,” turning to the dressing table, where she had. deposited it when she went to bed. But it was no longer there ! “Where on earth is it ?" cried Hilda nervously, as she looked about the room, but nowhere could she discover her missing treasures. “0h, Heavens! what shall I do '2” she exclaimed in despair. “You have been robbed, poor child," said the woman. “Did I not tell you this was a cursed house ‘3" And then, as Hilda stood white and trembling before her, she added, passionately : “It is my aunt who has taken your jewels and money, but do not stay to search for it ; it would be use- less.” And Hilda, quite broken down by this last calamity, slowly and sadly stole down the dimly lighted staircase, behind the woman who had rescued her. The servant opened the hall door, and as she did so a gust of wind blew the fast- falling snow into the house. Hilda shiver- ed with cold and fear as she glanced into the snowy street. Sobbing bitterly, the poor girl descended the steps out into the pitiiess cold and heavy falling snow of the Winter night. The street was quite deserted when Hilda reached the slippery pavement, and, tired and exhausted as she was, she found it well-nigh impossible to struggle on, encum- bered as she was with her heavy cloak and long, crepe-trimmed skirt, to say nothing of the bag she carried. After wandering for some time, vainly seeking to find the police station to which the woman had directed her,she could go no longer,but sank down upon the stone steps in the shade of ' the portico of a large building which, though she knew it not, was one of London’s famous hospitals. The sufferings of the unhappy Hilda would soon have been over had it not been that rescue was at hand. A cab drew up at the portal of the hospital, and the cabby, assisted by another man, lifted from it the figure of a wretched woman beaten almost to death by her brutal husband. When she had been tenderly carried into the accident ward the young man who had brought her in, in descending the steps, spied the body of Hilda as she lay huddled up against a pillar. His hasty exclamation of surprise brought the cabman to his aid, and between them the inanimate body of the poor girl was raised from its snowy bed and borne into the hospital. And before morning the idolized daughter of Mark Deloraiue was tossing from side to side upon her bed in the fever ward, raving in all the delirious fever. agonies of brain CHAPTER VIII. sousnonv's nannra’o. It would be impossible to describe thei consternation felt by all the inhabitants of the Abbey when the flight of Hilda was discovered. When Perkins entered her mistress’s room on the morning succeeding - the day on which the poor. friendless girl had so foolishly quitted her only shelter she preceived at once that something un- . usual had happened. The room was in disorder, the bed exactly in the same state I; as it had been when she had left her mis-l tress the proceeding evening, and the clusters of wax lights on toilet and mantel-_ piece burned down into their sockets. i Perkins, in dismay. hastily left the room! to summon the housekeeper, and the news of the flight of their former mistress soon spread through the house. Hilda's can groom hastily saddled a horse and, without waiting for any orders. galloped 06' to the Temple. where, it is needless to say. he found Roger Montacute ready enough to accompany him to the Abby and join {in the search for the mining Hilda. .‘lr. Wilmnt had. to-night.’ you know, sir, she would a}. 5 her sealssin jacket : iier heavy crape skirt ways have her own way, would my poor was rent and torn swivel With the snow, mistress. Uh, sir 3 what if my poor, dear ithrougii which she had waded in her flight lady ’ave a bin and gone and drownded through llle midnight streets. “’hnt had her poor seli”â€"â€"a renewed burst of tears E brought her to such a terrible pass? the from Perkins. and Roger interrupted her 2 doctors vainly asked each other as they impatiently : lexamined their unconscious patient. Not “ For Heaven’s sake, Perkins, don’t talk l povertv,ihey agreed. Her piirse contained in that horrid manner : what should Miss enemy 13“). her weld! and Chain W583 Deioraine make away With herself for." lcostly toy of blue enamel set with dia- “I don’t know, .i’m sure, sir," sniffed i iiioiids, and two diamond rings glittered the offended damsel, “ I’m only a servant, l upon the finger of one white hand. Well, and as such, of Course, can't be expected to i they ulna! wait in patience until She know much about my betters, but Ican [recovered her reason before they could and Wlll say as my poor, dear young lady, i hope to find the key to this strange enig- died. and I’m sure she was crying in her room for hours upon hours yesterday after Mrs. Palmer had been and showed her up so, poor young lady 1" between his teeth, something that was not a benediction on thus hearing that his aunt’s visit and her treatment of Hilda had become the common property of the servants’ hall. To turn the conversation he asked Per- kins if she knew when her mistress had left the house, and whether she had taken any things with her. ” I don’t know, I’m sure, sir, what my mistress took. I’ve been that finrried ever since I found that her bed had not been slept in that you might knock me down with a feather; you might. indeed, sir," said Perkins, assuming a die away air, and looking at the young man as if inviting the exquisite expanse of wood and water, fertile meadow and undulating hills, upon which his darling’s glad eyes had so often gazed, and upon which but yesterday she had taken her last look, when with the bitterness of death in her heart she had exiled herself for his sake from all she loved. And Roger swore an oath to him- self as he stood there that he would seek and, if possible, find the women he so do- votedly loved, and far from all those scenes which were fraught with so much pain for both of them, he would work for his Hilda. happier in the possession of her steadfast love than with all his aunt’s boarded thous- ands. startled him from his reverie, and with one A hasty explanation from Perkins stride he turned and reached the wardrobe, by the open doors of which the waiting maid was standing. “ What is it, perkins? found ‘.’" asked the young man, who had turned White to the very lips. “Look here, sir.” pointing to a shelf in the wardrobe, upon What have you replied the maid, which were piled morocco cases of Avery shape and color. “ My poor mistress has been and left all her beautiful wedding presents! Oh, Lord 0’ mercy, whatever, should she have done that for, unless she was going to put an and tip her poor self?" And Perkins, moved to a fresh burst of grief at the dismal picture she had conjur- ed up, broke into fresh sobs. "U0 be young man, better able than the lady’s maid to appreciate the delicacy of mind which made it impossible for Hilda to re- quiet, Perkins." replied the tain the costly gifts that had been offered by himself and their many friends on the occasion of the marriage of Mark Delo- raine’s heiress. “Has she taken no clothes with her ?” he asked,as Perkins,fidgetedover her mistress’s drawers and wardrobes. “No, poor lady ! Nothing but what she stood upright in except her fur coat and the big cloak her pa sent for from Russia. How could she carry anything with her 2” she asked. And Roger only replied by a bitter sigh. His lovely, tenderly reared darling wandering through the Winter night alone and unprotected l The thought stung him to madness, and he exclaimed : “What on earth are we to do, Perkins? 0h. Heavens ! here 2” "She have took her own jewels. sir,” I wish Wentworth were said Perkins, returning at length from the survey of her mistress’s things, "and I know she have plenty of money,so perhaps she’ll be all right,”she added. “Leastwa e, if she don’t get robbed and murdered for the sake of her jeWels. We do hear such shocking things nowadays, I'm sure the things as Mr. Mason reads us in ‘the room,’ out of the Police News. is enoughto make one’s blood all of a curdle 1” But Perkins’s cheerful surmises were addressed to the empty air. for Roger had left the room to consult Mr. Wilmot as to the best plan to be intelligence of the missing girl. long Nigel Wentworth arrived from town pursued to obtain Before to join in their consultations.and telegrams were dispatched to the different stations along the line. and also to Scotland Yard, requesting the services of a skilled detect. ive ; but all to no purpose. The week wore away and there were no tidings of the lost Hilda. Strange to say,no one had observed her at the station. and the porter. remem- bering the‘half sovereign with which Hilda had "tipped" him, preserved a discreet silence on the subject of the lovely golden- haired passenger by the 8:30 express. Meanwhile the subject of all this anxiety was lying upon her narrow bed in the whitewashed ward of the hospital at whose doors the had fallen down insensihle on that fatal night of her arrival in London. Her recovery was for along time extremely doubtful. The anguish she had endured at her father’s awful death, the discovery of the secret of her birth, the breaking or! of her engagement with Roger Montacute, were amply comment to cause the brain fever which had struck her down, and when to all these causes were added the dreadful events of the first nightin London and the exposure to cold of the snow streets, it will not be wandered at that the experience I- en some careless finger is, good night. Hilda soon laid her aching laid u- v ' a half-healed wound. ',- hea-i upon the pillow. and worn out by the Wm“: ;ae had left the pink “1.! snack . fatigue and excitement of the day,she slept out into trie high road she walked rapidly '5 profoundly. along through the woods of Martiam, ‘ So mun-i indeed was her slumber that where she had so often rambled in the days : she did not hear the gentle footi'all of her that were no more; along the hard, want“ hostess, as clad in dressing gown and already dispatched a telegram to Nigsllskilled physicians and the trained nurses Wentworth, informing him of the younglwho surrounded Hilda'e bed shook their lady’s flight and requesting his presence at , heads gravely and were more than doubtful the Abbey. fof the result of the battle fought between It was with feelings of rage and grief the exhausted sufferer and the rider of the almost modeep for utterance that Roger Pale Horse. entered the home of his lost darling andi heavy mournin v dress. kindly, but. ohl where can I go at this time of night, too?" Miss Gray stopped in her occupation of hastily packing Hilda’s few things, and. him to make the attem t. turning to the frightened girl, said gravely: “ Well, Perkins, suppose you look over “If you had to pass the night in the her things,” said poor Roger, with a break workhouseâ€"aye, even wander about till in his kind. manly voice as he spoke; morning without a place to lay your and.going over to the window, he stood head. I should still urge you to leave this leaning against the frame and gazing over roof at once; but if on go a short dis- tance you Will reach the police station. l 1 Roger turned very red and muttered” l l l had neve seemed like in rself since her pa ma. (TU iii: coxrixnso.) this in Till: BIBLE. no crass soox THAT IS ABLE TO coupsrs wrru 1r. Two Hundred Million (‘oplss or the In- gplred Word In Circulationâ€"Its value Eniphnslzed by its (‘rltlcs. There is an article in the current issue of The London Quarterly Review giving facts and figures to show that never before has there been so great a demand for the Bible as there is today. In England alone about 3,000,000 copies are issued every year. In nearly every other civilized coun- try the circulation of the Bible is simply encrmous, and atthe present moment there are more than 200.000.000 copies of the book in circulation in 330 different langua- ges, while the demand for it is INCREASING ALL THE TIME. The story told by these statistics is im- pressive enough. but perhaps the remark- able interest now manifested in all ques- tions relating to the llible is even more suggestive, says the New York Tribune So many books about the Bible are con- stantly appearing that it is impossible to keep track of them. And the demand for good books (it the subject is still un- abated. Doubtless this interest is due in part to the investigationsof the new school of so-called higher critics, and it is therefore critical rather than spiritual. But, however that may be. that fact still remains that there is no other book in the world that is able to compete with the Bible in the in- terest, if not the affection, of men. Timid Christians, it is true. are alarmed at the growth of the critical school of Biblical scholars, but unless the Bible held A SUPREME AND UNIQUE PLACE in the thought of the world, no critics would think it worth while to get at its meaning, or if they did the great mass of intelligent readers wouldn’t care a button what they said. Col. Ingersoll or John L. Sullivan can easily fill a big ball, largely, we suspect, with the same class of people ; that is a fact the importance of which we would by no means under estimate. But while two or three thousand people are yelling with delight over the “mistakes of Moses,” or the ease with which the “big fellow” can still go through the dumb show of fighting multitudes of earnest and intelligent men and women in eveiy walk of life are pond- ering over the message of THE BOOK OF BOOKS. and, however, imperfectly, are trying to order their lives according to its moral precepts. The present day critical investi- ation of the Bible may in some respects modify or change the popular conception of it. Indeed, it has done so in a measure already, but in so far as we can see it has in no degree weakened the hold of the Bible on the conscience of Christendom. Nor is there the faintest sign that modern civilization intends to part with any of the essential principles and ideals which it has learned from that venerable book. Possibly Moses may have made mistakes; he was great enough to do so. But. no mistake he ever made compares with that of those who think to elevate and ennoble the world by splitting “the ears of the groundlings” with coarse s‘eers at religion and the Bible. New Way to Gain Time. John was a dull boy at his books. and although almost nine years old had diffi- culty in spelling very short and easy words But now and then he showed a gleam of something like intelligence. One day a younger scholar asked teacher how to spell " hail." What kind of ” hail?" asked the teacher. By a coincidence another child presently wanted to know how to spell “ tare." What kind of “ tare" do you mean 3 the teacher inquired. That afternoon in the spelling-class the teacher asked John to spell “ slate” John did not remember, but he disliked to say so. What kind of slate do you mean? he asked, with a very innocent drawl. Would Take No Risks. The insurance agent stepped briskly up to the Dutch saloon keeper. Want your life insured ? Nup. Your brother’s 3 Nap. ‘ Your wife’s l Fer what 2 So when she dies you get the money. Uf I insuret my house not it burnt up dey buy me anuder. Now if Katrina «has dey buys me anuder vile. huh. I keep my Katrina. Pleasant Prospect. Neighborâ€"l hear that your master has married again an d ll tall or a bridal :0 2r. Uncle Moseâ€"Imit‘t know bout him takin‘ a bridal to dis one, boss. but he did tuclr They had tried in vain to discover any . 9.4419 to his fust wife, shore. . . rm: . - Th; exquisitely ‘ tine lacs-trimmed linen which she were as ed her again and again as to the reason of {well as that contained in her traveling Lag,