A Family Affair

The prisoner's faco changed. Ho loowled at her as darkiy as sho had icowled at hitn. "When will your time be up?" she asked sharply. ' Can you teil nie?" the added, turning to the wardcr. "He's in blue, so he's in his last yoar." Mrs. Miller shuddered. Her hands olin hed themselves involuntarih'. "1 want to kuow," she said, addressing the convict, "what arrangement )ou will be willing to make when jou come out. That is the object of my visit" The man looked at lier mockingly. "I have thought of nothing asyet," he said, "except thejoy Ishall feel at onee more returning to the arma of my devotcd wife." The woman's darfc eyes blazed. She leancd her face a ainst the bars, and ulam cd at the shaven faco before her. "How much moiiPY do you want?" she whi-pered. The convict slmigged his uninteresting-looking shoulders. "JJoney is an after-consideraliou I ani pining for connubial felicity." She turncd and paced the narrow space. The warder grew quite interested in the interview. As a rule his duties wer very monotouous e recognhed the faot that the present couversatlon was out of the ordioary run. Tlic woman seemcd to have forgotten his presence. She stamped her loot aud turned tiereely to the convict. ■Look hore," She said; "will you po to America, A stralia, anywhere P Money will be founl." "Certainly not," said the polite coniet. 'ISesides, s:r,' he added, turn ing to the warder w:th ;in assumcd air of differencc, ' I bc'ieve it is a fine oua non, I mean it is indispensable that for some time I must report to the pólice once a month?" The warder nodded. "God help us!" niuriuured the woman. Then turning to the convict, she said: "You'll let me know when you are released?" "Oh, yes. 1 11 let you know fast enough. You'll be one of the lirst I shall come and see. Xow, if you've nothing more to say, 1 11 :i?k to be taken back to my dinner. Good and plentiful as the fare is, I like it better warm than cold." The solid warder could not help sniiling. The timu usually allotted to visitors had by no means expired. It was a new experience to find a convict of h:8 own free will curtailing his privilege. He turned enquiringly to Mrs. Miller. "Got anything else to say to him?" he asked ' No," sho answered sullenly. The convict made her a polite bow as she turned and walked to the door of her own den. Sho stood outsde on the gravel for a moment and gazed mood.ly after No. 1080 as he was conductecl by h:s guardián across the open space and vanishe 1 frora sight round the chapel on the way to his cell. Then she entered the waiting room, wherc she found the civil olicial who had at flrst accosted her. From him she ascertainod the proper office at which the Inquiry she wantod answered should bo made; and upon applying there learned that No. 1080, supposin:; he continued to conduct himself as he had h thorto done, that is. earning the maximum of eight good marks aday, wouldobtainhis ticket-ofleave in about six months' time. 'Then what beoomes of him?" she asked. "Do you just put him outside the gateand teil him to be off?" The olficer smiled. "Oh dear, no. He is asked if he has any friends to go to, or where ho wants to go to. His fare is paid to that place. He is given a suit of clothes and a liltlo money. After that he must to the be=t he can." Nrs. Miller looked thoughtful. ' Is there any one I could vvr te to and ask to be told the day he will come out?" she asked. ' Certainly. If you are a relation or friend, and willing to look after him, and wrote to the goveroor to that effect, no doubt vou would hear frora him." "Thank'you," said Mrs. Miller. Then she gathered up her black skirts, and lef t the prison. She fouud her cab, and was dnven back to the rail way station. It was some time before a train left for Weymouih; so she cl mbed to tho top of Chesil Beach, and sat down gazng out over the sea. Her lips moved, al though the rest of her body was niotionless. She was praying, and the pctition she offered up was that Heavcn would remove from carth a certain convict before the day carne upon wliich he would be entitlei to demand his freedom. A eurlous prayr for a religious woiuan to make, but after all not stranger than th s prayers oflcred up by aDtagonstic armes. The train starled at last, and took her to Weymouth. llore she obtaincd refreshrnent, of which, indeed, she stood much in need Soniehow, she made a mistake in the time, and rui&sed the afternoon train. The consequence was that it was past eleven o'clock whea she rang the bell of that methodically-conducted establ shment, Hazlewood House And the rulo of Hazlewood House was that do servant should on any pretenso be out of doors after half-past nine, or, unless the presence of company demanded it, out of bed after half-pat ten. Her masters were in waiting, and at once took her to task. Sho oxplained that she had missed the train. 'What train?" asked Horace. "The train from Weymouth, sir." "But Miss Clauson lold us you wcro gone to London." "Miss Clauson made a mistake, sir." Horace feit nettled at the idea of any one who held even a vica ious authority from himself to make a mistake. So he said, with sume asperity, " hismust not occur again Mrs Miller." "And,"added Herbert, "the next timo you want a holiday kindly mention the fact to U9 as wcll as to Miss Clauson. We have a rule in these matters." Mrs. Miller courtesied and left the ! room "-he isa curious looking wotran," said Horneo. "I wonder if wc wer6 I right in taking her without a character.' CHAPTER IX. JDMPINO AT C 'NCLUSIONS. Mr, MorJle went away the next week, He oarried his sorrow with him, manI lully ïosolved to do all ho could lo 1 leave it on the surarait of ivont hhme or the Matterhorn, to sink it in the i ake of Maggoire or Como, or to cast ! it upon the llowing Kliine. He told hituself with suoh cheerfulness as be cinilil uiustcrthat he asdeeply woundHd bat not k lied. IJeforo he tieJ tio i label on his portmadleau he discharged ' what his kern sense of honor told huu j wa a duty. He called on the Talberts and informod thetn how he had fared wii li Beatrice. They were very busy bottling ofl' a quarter cask of sherry. With their nativo politenes? the moment Mr. Mordle came in sight they ceased their occupation. Horace turned the tap and rose from the half-lilled bottle, Herbert left the cork hilf-driven in. They greeted their visitor and apologized for bringing him down to the lower regions. Álthough they wore large coarse white aprons fashionod somewhat like a girl's pinafore, they looked two well bred gentlemen. 'I say," said the cúrate, nervously, "you know I'm off'theday after tomorrow." "Yes. We wish you a pleasant trip.1' "Thanks. Sure to enjoy myself. I want to teil you soruething before I go." They begged him to speak. They thought it was some petty parish mat ter on his mind. "Do you mind taking off your aprons for a minute? Somehow my news doesn't secm to fit in them." Without a word they untied Iheir pinafores, folded them up, and laid them across the sherry cask, "Shall we go upstairs?" ;isked Horace. "Oh, dear, no. This will do capi tally. What I want to teil you is this. Last week I asked Mis Clausou to marry me. She rcfused. Thought yo i ought to know." Horace looked at Herbert; Herbert looked at Horace. They stroked their beards meditatively, but for some time ncillier spoke. ' Well, said Mr. Mordle, ' tlint's all." "l think. Mr. Mordle," said Horace, gadly, "vou ghould have consulted us tirat" "Qaite so," said Herbert. "Don't see it ;it all. Miss Clauson is of aze. But it doesn't matter - I te 1 you no.v " Tne brothers shook their hearls gravel-. "i teil you" said Sylvanus, 'because I am go ng away to euro m3-se!f. V hen I eomo back I should like to be able to visit vou as before. You necdn't be airad." "Miss Clauson must decide," said Horaee. "Kxactly so," said Herbert So the m:itter was left and Mr. Morüi: went away with a clear i onscience il' a heavy iieart. The brothers relurned to ther fascinatiogoccupatioD, and worked away for somo time in silenee. Three dozen of sherry must have been bottled before Horace spoke "It is timo Beatrice was married." Mes." said liis brother; "but she isn't a marryinj girl. Hie takes after us, I think." There was always a comfort in this ivlleetion; especiaïly now, when the fume of Miss Clauson's good looks had spread throughout half Westshire. It was indeed time that a suitable suitor made his appearanco Tne chances weru tliat in a year or two the girl migbt fa!l into her úneles' oíd maidish ways. For the Talbert's were now getting into a domestic groove down which itseome;! likelv they would slide until the end of their lives. They had of course seen the e;reat world and the vanities thereof and now they found that thcre was nothing like home, sweet home- especially when the disposition of the home lover is such that ho takes an immense intere t in every detail which makes up that sweetdcss. W ilh the ex'eptonof the perrennial visit to town they had not left Hazlewood Houso for any 'ength of time, since they settled down to rulo its fortunes. They went to London this ycar for the last week in M ay and the vvhole of June. But Miss Clauson d:d not accompany them. She said outright that she hated London, and loved Oakbury and its belongings. So at Oakbury she stayed A very curious choico on the part of a young lady who might, had she wished to do so, have spent the London season mingling in the pursuita and gayeties of what is called the upper circle. So when Miss Clauson refused to go to London she extrlcated her uncios from a dilemma. She stayed at Hazlewond House and for live weeks ruled Whittaker and the other staid servants as well as she could. Hcatrice was now just past twenty two. It was really high time that a suitor came, and the 'Tabbies,' who could easily have adapted their feminino gifts to match-making, began to think over the eligible young men in the couuty. Then Fate produced some one, whom, until now, sho had kept in the background. But whether eligible or not we must discover by and by. Beatrice, entering the library one morning early in August, found her úneles in high conclave. She saw at once that something had happened, and for the moment fcarcd to hoar that the red currant jelly recently made from her own receipt, and altnost under her own supervisión, had turned moldy. It was not that Miss Clauson was particularly fond of rei currant jelly; her fears wero simply on account of the distress such a catastrophe would cause her úneles' kindly natures However, the matter was not so serious as she imagined. L'ncle Horace handed her an open letter. "Read that, my dear, and teil us how we shall answer it." She read the following: "Deaií Mu. Talbkrt: - You and your brother have seyeral times asked me to pay you a visit. May I como for a weck or two this vacation? I am rather knonked up by hard work, and my doctor tells mo I had better spend some t me in a quiet placo in the country. So I remembercd your kind invitation: and if quite convenient to you, would como straight from Oxford to your house. 'f conree, though rather overworked, I am not aninva'id or I should not think of tnispassing on you. Yours sincerely, Fkank Cahkl thehs'." "Who is Frank Carruthers'"' asked Beatr'ce. "Some relation to us, is he notP" "His motherwas my Vither's halfsister." "What relation does that make him to mo?" Horbert stroked his beard and grap pled with the problem. "He must be your half h'rst cousin onco removed." he said at last. ' Exactly so," said Horace. This pointbcingsettled Miss Clauson requested further information about Carruthers. Thereupon Horaco went into family history, which it will perhaps be better for us to look up on our own account. On such occasions Horace was apt to become rather prosy. [TO BE CONTIUUED.l