OFT OF THE STORM; Or, GRACE WRAY'S TRIALS.

Auckland Star, Volume XXI, Issue 4124, 22 September 1883, Page 2 (Supplement)

OFT OF THE STORM; Or, GRACE WRAY'S TRIALS.

(-o-) BT M.AJOR AI.FOBD ROCIIEFORT.

CHAPTER XIII.

MRS SEVILLE SEEKS OUT I'IiTEK MOXKS, AND WHAT FOLLOWED. " OtTT of the frying-pan into the fire," repeated Tom Pegg. "Do you mean that, Peter ?" "That is what I said," replied Peter Monks, " and I mean every word of it." "But I don't understand you, upon my word I don't," , J " 1 can't, give you points and tho brains to Understand ili m,' sneered Monks.. " But you can try, 1 think I can see a thing as quick as most men. Now, why did the girl and the old man run aw% from the Brooklyn house';" "Why she left Brooklyn I can't pretend to say ; I only know that it looks suspicious, and that if yon want to pie is the charge of larceny, she can't escape, but I hope you won't do this ;it isn't manly. The girl is evidently excited, and it is when the wind shakes the trees that one must pick up fruit." " I think I sco what you mean," said Tom Pegg, closing his eyes to increase his powers of comprehension. '•1 am glad you do," said Monks, trying uot to yawn. -; j\ ow this is Christmas day ; you want to go out and enjoy yourself, and I need to go to bed, for I've' put in a hard week of it and need to lie down and forget myself for a while." "Of course you do," said Pegg, rising and pulling on his gloves. ''Sorry to disturb you. But I say, Peter. " Pegg stopped at the door and looked buck. '■What is it?' " How about the bank ?" " What do you mean ?" " Will it open to-morrow night : " What makes you ask that question V "Oh, nothing, only I understand you wore cleaned out; and then I heard somo of your friends saying they did not think you could start again." " What did you say to that, Tom?" "Oh, I denied it." " And you did right," said Monks, rising and beginning to puce the room. "Should you hear any of them doubt about my ability to open, tell them that there are a hundred thousand dollars to be won in my bank, and more coming after that is exhausted. You look as if you doubted me, Tom." "Well, the fact is," said Pegg, "I knew you were poor a few days ago, and as you've lo3t the littlo I let you have, I can't see how you made the raise." " But I keep my word ?" '' Yes, Peter ; Irll give my allidavit to back that," said Pegg, effusively. He looked as if it would relieve him very much to learn how Peter Monks had got his money, but as that person showed no disposition to enlighten him, he took his departure. Peter Monks did not go to bed, but remained at home all daj-, looking over hia papers and burning a great many. After supper lie had a barber come to his room, and he was shaved and oiled and waxed till lie fairly shone a^ain/ . put on a dress suit, fastened a large diamond pin in his shirt front, and placed a diamond ring on the little linger of his left hand. After his toilet was completed lie took a position before the mirror, and surveyed himself with much complacency. Talking aloud, as was his habit, he said, with a laugh that showed a set of strong white teeiii : " I am forty-one years of age, but when I am dressed up I don't look to be thirty-five. If any other man had lived through what I have, he would look to be a hundred. lam still as strong as a giant, and have a long life before me. A long life." The last three word's seemed, to impress him, for he repeated them over and over. At length he broke out fiercely : " Why, in the name of all the furies, do I want a long life ? What have I to live for:" His own question startled him, for he dropped into a chair and stared at his reflection in tho glass as if lie expected it to answer him. After a long pause he continued, in a bitter monotone :

" I look well there. Once I was thought to bo a handsome man, but I am a wreck— a painted hulk. When I look back at my ife "I loso my faith in eter.lal justice, for were theiv such a thing, Heaven's lightnings would have Hashed down and blasted me the very day I became of age. " And yet—and yet—was there ever a man started out in life with fairer prospects ? Rich parents, who spoiled me by their excess of love ; a brother--a twin brother—like me in nothing- but form and face."

Ho buried hi.3 face in his hands and s#aycd his body. There was an awful anguish in his voice as he continued :

" Oil, George ! Goorge! youdiedthinking me wicked and hard and cruel, and I was all that, and more, too. God only knows how unworthy of your noble self-sacrifice I was. Still in my heart I appreciated your love, and I would gladly have died to show it, could I have forgotten my selfishness for a moment,

"And the wifo—tho wife I .slandered and put away that I might bo free to make another my—my—"

lie did not finish the sentence, but let his chin fall on his breast, while his nails were buried in tho palms of his hands. In a voice that sounded like the cry of a dying conscience, that seemed to strangle him so that he clutched at his throat and sprang to his feet, the ashy face starino- at the mure ashy face in tho glass, he hissed out :

" Perjurer and murderer ! Oh, villain ! how you have cursed mo ! Where is my child ? You murdered her ! Where is my brother. You slew him! Where is my name? You blackened it and forced me to assume another ! Where are tho high hopes a:id noble aspirations that were once mine in this the city of my birth ? Bead ! dead ! Uoau ! all slain and blasted by you !" lie pressed his hands to his eyes to shut out tho vision, and ran away from tho look-ing-glass. He stood trembling near tho door for some time ; then he said, in a quiet tone : "It does not do for me to bo alone. Whon men are alone tho dead past rises ui> to haunt them.

"I am going to tho opera, and must Steady my nerves, for without doubt she'll be thore with my handsome cousin. She must sco me to-night, if nothing more, bhe must know that I am in earnest." He went into the sitting-room and took a glass of raw brandy ; then placed a bit of cinnamon in his mouth to kill the odour. The opora house was within short walking distance of Monks'a club.

He had secured his ticket in advance, but he did not go to his seat at once, but stood in tho vestibule, while a long lino of carriages drove up to tho archad doorway, unloaded, and passed on.

Ho began to think that Mrs Seville would riot come, when a jingling of silvery bells was heard, and looking out, lie saw a team of black horses, flashing with gilded harness, and tossing their bountiful heads iv all the pride of strength and fine grooming. There was a Mutter of excitement among the group of well-dressed young men about the door, nearly all of whom .seemed to have somo troublo with their glove?. Then Ralph Thornton, tall ami handsome, aided the radiant young widow from the sleigh.

There was an expression of triumph on her face jus .she clung to Ralph's arm and gave a swift glance about her. Many of the young men about tho door raised their hats, ami when the lady had gone by they whispered about Ralph Thornton and the rich and beautiful widow he was soon to lead to tho altar.

Whan Peter Monks saw the .sleigh drive up ho stepped back to the little gate where the tickets Mere taken.

Ho stood so that .she could not help seeing him if she raised her eyes. She came so close that he could see the drooping lashes on her cheeks. It scorned that she must go on without being aware of his presence, but suddenly, as if moved by a power against her own will, she looked up and passed on.

Their eyes met for an instant, but it was an instant filled with more dramatic intensity than could be crowded into a dozen acts on the mimic stage they were about to behold.

His eyes boldly asked: "Will you meet mo?" and hers as clearly answered " Yes."

Did Ralph Thornton feel the little hand trembling a.s it rested on his strong arm? for it did tremble. If so, he attributed it to the sudden change from the cold, bracing atmosphere of the street to the almost tropical atmosphere of the opera house. She laid aside her wrap and appeared in full evening dress, and there certainly was not in all that vast assemblage of beautiful women one who excelled Alice Seville in the richness and good taste displayed in her costume, or in the grace and dignity of her bearing.

She had bee:i to the opera before with Ralph, and on those occasions she was the soul of animation, applauding tho singers with her daintily gloved hands, and discussing with her escort between the acts tho merits of the opera.

But to-night she was so quiet that Ralph feared sho was not well.

"!No,"she replied, with a sweet smile, " I assure you, my dear Ralph, I feel very well, indeed. You may not know that the opera of Faust always makes mo sad."

" If I had known that," said Ralph, "I should not havo brought you, for ono never deliberately plans to be sad, and certainly not for Christmas night." "I assure you I prefer Faust to any other opera, and the sadness it brings resembles sadness only as the mist resembles the rain," she said, as sheaflectionately laid her hand on his arm.

This explanation satisfied Ralph. Why should it not ? She wa3 his affianced wife, and could have no reason to deceive him about such a slight matter. Alice Seville's mind was not on the opera ; she hoard tho people on tho stage much as if she were in a dream, and she was aware of the lights, the tiers of fashionably-dressed peoplo, and the motions of the orchestra leader in front, but all the time .she was thinking about that man sho saw in the vestibule, anrl wondering^ what would be the outcome of the meeting that was now inevitable.

Ralph Thornton's mind was rambling from the opera as much as that of his companion.

It was not Marguerite, but Grace Wray ho saw on the stage. Indeed, he did not sco the stage at all. He was again in tho conservatory, looking through an open window at the beautiful girl who stood under the chandelier in his mother's sitting-room, with the golden light falling on her head till sho looked like ono of Raphael's madonnas.

When they left the opera house Alice Seville did not look around, for she dreaded to see that man again, but she was the ono object at which hundreds of bright oyes gazed, for her engagement to Ralph Thornton \v;us a standing topic in the world of fashion.

Ralph had just handed Mrs Seville to the sleigh, and was about to got in himself, when the young lawyer, Harry Gray, after bowing to the lady, laid his hand on his friend'a arm and asked in a low voice: " I say, old fellow, can't you come down to the office to-morrow ''." "Certainly," replied Ralph. "What's up?" '■I feel pretty sure that I have traced dow~> one of our men." " Which one?" " Monokton." " I wish it were the other." "This one is within reach." " In Xcw York?" "Yes, Ralph." " Strange that he hasn't shown himself." " You would see a reason for his hiding if you know all." Good night."

"(iood night, Harry," said Ralph, as ho sprang lightly into tho sleigh and to whisked off by the spirited blacks.

Mrs Seville's spirits rose when they reached home, and she apologised for having~aeted us if she had tho blues, when tho truth was she had never spent a more delightful evening in her life. Of course, Ralph believed her, and he was very glad to have added to her happiness, though he no longer felt that her presenco was essential to his own bliss.

After Ralph Thornton had left the house the following morning, Alice Seville made haste to <ro out.

She told Mrs Thornton that she had business with her lawyers, and she refused to have the carriage sent for, .saying that who preferred to walk.

She went out heavily veiled and wearing a plain costume that would not attract attention to herself.

The restaurant attached to Monks's dub was considered reputable, for many ladies when out (shopping stopped in thore to lunch. Mrs Seville, without any hesitation, or any nervous glance- about nor, walked into the restaurant and half pushed aside her veil, for to one coming in from thoglaro of snow and sunshine the place seemed quite dark.

Sho had not gone many steps beyond the door, when the waiter Ram, approached her, anil, with a profound bow, ho asked in a mysterious whisper : "la this Mrs Seville ?" "I shall answer to that name for the present," she replied, and again she let the veil fall over her face. " You wish to see Mr Monks ?" "Mr Monks," she repeated; "yes, I wish to see Mr Monks.' " He is expecting you." " Indeed ?" "Yes ms.'am, and told me to conduct you to the? parlour as soon as you came," said the waiter. "Did you ever see me before?" " Never, ma'am." " How, then, did you know me ?" " I can hardly explain." "Very well; lead the way." By a private stairs that led up to Peter Monka's quarters, the waiter conducted- Mrs Seville to the sitting-room doseribod in previous chapters.

Ho knocked, and without waiting for a reply, opened tho door and stepped back for her to enter. Then he closed the door again and went away on tiptoe. _ Mra SevillesawPoter Monks on the oppo- | site side of the table, andfadvaneing boldly towards him, she threw back her veil, with a fierco gesture, and in a voice full of suppressed anger, she said : " You sent for me, and I have come." " I sent for you and I knew you would come," said Monks, with a mocking smile, and an imperturbability of manner that was maddening. " I have been thinking you dead." " Hoping me dead, you mean?" " Yes, as there never was and never can be a good reason for your living. But you are alive, and, as usual, hard up." " Alive and hard up, Alice ; and you are alive and rich. But I'll tell you what—" He paused, and with a gesture of impatience she said : "Go on. lam listening." " A man that leads my life might as well be dead as be poor. I am poor and want money." " And you sent for me to bleed me, to blackmail mo," she said, her eyes Hashing, and her voice trembling with indignation. " Did you say blackmail ?" he asked. "I did," she replied. " Then no more of such talk to mo, Alice ; I won't stand it."

"You won't?" she said stopping back, and watching lii^ face to see if ho were as earnest as ho would have her beliove.

" You are a nice person to talk of bleeding and blackmail ! You began your career by blasting lives: you wrecked my life, and the life of every man who has trusted you. Hear mo out. It was you who parted mo from my wife nnd made me a wanderer. So long as I had money you clung to me like a leech, then you cast mo off and made up to my rich cousin in California and married him ; but ■ I did not interfere. In order that you might enjoy your wealth, I gave out that I was dead, and more than that, Alice, I originated the story that he was dead—"

"He! Whom do you mean?" she asked.

Coming nearer to her, ho sank his voice, and said :

" Can't you guess!" "Why should I try to guess when you are so ready to tell me ?"

" You are right, Alice, quite right. That man is your first husband. Ah, I see that you doubt me ; but he is living, and is now in this city."

" I .shall not deny what 1 am not sure of."

Alice Seville sat down, and with a smile that became her, and which was in striking contrast with her first expression, she continued :

" You brought me here, not to tell me these tilings, but to have me help you." " You are right." "How much money do you want?" " Five thousand dollars to begin with." " That is a large sum." "Yes ; but I may wantmoro to-morrow ; for I have been in bad luck, and you ara tho cause of my poverty." "And what am 1 to receive in return for all this money ?" "My silence." " What guarantee of that can you give ?" "The poorest possible guarantee—my word. By Jove, Alice," he said, with an admiring glance at her pale face and earnest eyes, " you carry your years well : you don't look a day older than you did seventeen years ago. No wonder you have won my young cousin Ralph as you did other members of the family." "Seventeen years have made me indifferent to flattery," she said, as she took a roll of bills from hor wallet, counted them hurriedly and pushed them towards him with an expression of contempt. Peter Monks counted tho money in his turn, and said, as ho put it into his pocket : ".That is right to a jienny ; do you want a receipt?"

Instead of replying, she rose, and after a pause, during which her eyes were on the floor, she asked :

" Where is Horace Weld now ?" " You mean your husband—you were never divorced ?"

" I asked you where Horace Weld can be found now?"

"I cannot tell yon where he is at this moment ; but in the disguise of an old man, whom my patrons call 'Moses,' he has been regularly cleaning out this bank, and I am sure he will lie here again to-night." " You are not deceiving mo '!" " You can come and .see for yourself. I'll fix it. But I say, Alice, whether I win hiss money or he wins mine, itjshould comfort you to know, so long as you furnish the funds, they are not going out of tho family." She made no comment, but acted as if she had not heard him. Looking up at length, she asked : " Why may not you and I bo friends again '!" " Are we not good friends, Alice V" he replied. " But I -want to work with you." " Good ; I am in for that." "When can I see you again »" she asked, as she extended her hand. " Whenever you make an appointment," he laughed. "I am always at home to my banker."

CHAPTER XIV.

GRACE WIUY AGAIN* RENEWS THE BATTLE OF LIFE. AVhen Grace Wray and her uncle reached Bauer's Hotel they were exhausted in body and cist down in mind. But the generous German woman, as we have seen, soon made them feel that they were under her protection, and that for the present, at least, they could rest without fear of pursuit. The Christmas morning was well advanced before they woke up. In the meantime the stout servant had made up the lire, and the little parlour was a model of cheerfulness.

Grace (md lier uncle had been up but a short time, when Mrs Bauer came in -with a beaming face and the heartiest greeting and most kindly inquiries. The smii was shinins; in the little windows, and, with the ehoery fire, it made the parlour a jewel of warmth and comfort compared with the rooms in the tenement which they left the night before. .Mrs Bauer saw, when she first set eyes on Grace, that hey's was no common face ; but when she came to see it this morning she acted like one fascinated. Her big, bright face and her honest eyes beamed with an admiration which she had too much taste to give other expression to at that time. "Now, my frionts," said Mrs Bauer, when the stout maid came in with n amoking hot breakfast, "deso rooms is yours so long as you stay by me. After a vile, bimeby, mabbe it was bo dot de young lady, Miss-— Miss—"

"My name is Grace Wray, and my uncle's name is George Wray," said Grace, crossing over and taking Mrs Bauer's hand. " Den I shall call you Grace?"

"Yes, Mrs Bauer, call me Grace." "Grace; yes, I like dot name. But I wish to say dis : Mebbe to-morrow—for today we don't tink nod Sings 'bout bizneas dot you tell mo your drubbles, unt eof you can york by sometings, den I tinks I can help you, eh !"

'" God bloss you, Mrs Bauer !" eaid Grace, deeply touched by the good woman's kindness. "But whenever you can hear mo I will tell you all, for I feel I can trust you, and when you have heard mo I am sure you will not like me the less."

" You can trust mo ; but come unt eat de breakfast, tint after a vile you unt me takes a Talk de hotel rount."

With the adoration of a devotee kissing tho image of a saint, Mrs Bauer pressed ho" lips to Grace' 3 cheek, and walked quietly out, as if she had just performed an act of worship.

"Ah, Grace, my child," said Georn-e Wray, as they sat at the little table eating their palatablo Christmas breakfast, "we should never lose faith in God. Last night, and often before that, my soul was in rebellion against. Heaven, but something has always happened to sliovv me that I was weak when I should have been strong and complaining when I should havo been patient. I somehow feel this blessed Christmas morning as if tho tide of misfortune might yet turn and flow back." "It will—it will, Uncle George !" cried Grace, "I havo never lost faith. I feel—l know that behind the clouds is the sun still shining, though some days are dark and dreary."

" Your days have been made dreary by me, my darling; but what could I have done without you?"

She did not reply directly, but, rising from her chair, she came over, and, stuntC ing behind him, she put her arms about his neck and kissed his powder-marked face ; then resuming her place, she said :

" What could I have done without you, dear uncle ? What have Ito live for but you ?"

On their clouded lives the sun shone cheerily through that bright Christmas day, and their brief respite from an awful anxiety was like an oasis of bliss in a broad desert of agony.

After breakfast Mrs Bauor brought George Wray a big handful of cigars and the comforting information that Conrad waa in a much bettor humour that morning, and that at any hour during the day that would suit Mr YVrr.y lie would come up and do himself the honour of, apologising for his rudeness, and drink forgetfulne.su of thepaatand to tho friendship of the future in a glass of Rhinewein.

Mrs Bauer did not say that she had frightened Conrad into this commendable course, nor did she intimate that if her husband had manifested a spirit of disobedience or revolt, he would be simply adding another rivet to the chains by which she held at onco to his duty and her own apron strings.

Under the plea of showing Grace the hotel, Mrs Bauer took her in the afternoon to her own room, and with a tact and grace that showed unexpected refinement of nature, she draw from tho girl the sad story of her life.

Perhaps it would be better not to say "drew,'' for Grace, after asking secrecy for the present, plainly and frankly told Mrs Bauor all she knew of her own life up to this time

And tho good woman waa so affected by the touching recital that sho burst into tears, and crying with Mrs Bauer was by no means a child's matter.

When she became calm again, Mrs Bauer asked Grace if she could sew, and boing answered in the affirmative, sho want on to say that a niace of her own—not of Conrad Bauer, she wished it undetßtood—wag tho forewoman in the millinery establishment of a lady named Mrs Lansing, who employed a score or more girls. Mrs Bauor had been assured by her niece, Katrina Gsosbartz, that the girl/? at Mrs Lansing's averagod more ttoan a dollar a day, and that their money was ready for them every Saturday night ; and she felt very certain that, if Grace was willing she could have a place in this shop. Grace gladly accepted Mrs Bauer's offer to help her, paying, in conclusion :

" But before I take another place I want to get two cheap but comfortable furnished rooms, where my uncle and I can live without attracting attention." "You loaf dot to me," said Mrs Baner, tapping hor shining forehead. " I tolo you T tinks of somodings." But beyond this Mrs Bauer did not explain herself.

.Mrs Bauer's niece was a mature German lady of forty or thereabouts, and she had the thrift and energy of her masterful race.

"Miss Katrina Groshartz, Milliner," was the legend on her business rcirds ; and, it may be added, in passing, that these were the only kind of cards .she used.

Katrina Groshartz Mas the chief manager for Mrs Lansing, and Mrs Lansing was a beautiful, refined lady, " who had seen better daya," and proved ?he was worthy more of them bj' building up a large and profitable business.

After breakfast the following morning, Mrs Bauer, accompanied by Grace, went to Mrs Lansing's, shop, where they found every one up to hor oye«i in business.

Talking to her nieco to one side, Mrs Bauer told her why she had conio, and with the warrantable authority that her character and relationship gave hor, sh« naid, in German :

" Katrina, you must maku a place for this girl; she will bring you a blessing."

"If she can work," said the practical Miss Groshartz, "thatis all I want. But I must first see Mrs Lansing. Come, nnd I will introduce you both."

Mrs Lansing did not look liko the woman of energy and ability that her successful establishment would indicate.

She was dressed very simply in black her manners were retiring, and there was that about her sweet, sad faco that told of trials, if not resisted, that had been borne with angelic patience.

A flush came to her white face when she set eyes on Grace; and it was evident, when introduced, that she restrained the impulse to extend her hand.

Miss Groshartz, who was positively plain-looking, and therefore had a contempt for beauty, said :

"My aunt thinks the young lady can sow ; but she does not look as if she had had much practice."

" That is not necessary," said Mrs Lansing. "If Misa Wray has taste— and I think she lias—we can set her to work on bonnets. We need another trimmer, Miss Groshartz."

" Yea ; but the work is very particular." " Very well, we can soon tell what she can do. Are you ready to go to work at once, Miss Wray?"

" I am, madam," was the prompt reply. And so Grace was at once set to work at trimming hats and bonnets, a labour for which her deft fingers, exquisite taste, and artistic sense of colour harmony especially qualified her.

Mrs Bauer went back to the hotel in line spirits, and at onco told George Wray what she had done.

Before ho could thank her—so full was his heart—she continued :

"Now oaf I told you sometings secret, mobbe you won't tell Grace, eh ?"

"Not if you wish me to keep silent," ho replied.

"You must not say one wort till I hafo got it all fixed. I hafe found dree loafiy lecdlo rooms ride away cloao here, unt I fix 'em oap. Den mebbe in two odor droo days I take you unt Grace rount for a valk, unt we goes into dem leedle rooms and finds everytinga shust like home, eh ?"

Without waiting for Goorge Wray to givo his opinion of this splendid enterprise, Mrs Bauer hurried out of tho room, her bi", shiny faco ono vast substantial smile.

Among tho boarders at Bauer's Hotel was one Hans Klopoeh, a porter in tho employ of Davis, Lent & Co.

Through this man Tom Pog"-, it will bo remembered, learned of tho whereabouts of Grace and her uncle, and tho game person now kept him daily apprised of what was going on.

It so happened that Mrs Lansing did a great deal of work for the houso of Davis, Lent & Co., and .so it was not unusual for Tom Pegg to visit tho millinery shop in order to pay bills or make other contracts. Mrs Lansing had 'taken a dislike to Tom 1 egg, but she was far too shrewd a business woman to let him see it, though she usually transacted her business with him. through Miss Groshartz.

Miss Kotrina waa never surprised to sco the junior member enter the place. Indeed, the oftenor ho came tho better sho liked it; first, because it meant more business ; and in the second place, because sho know that Tom Pegg was a b.-icholor just as well as she know that she was a maiden, from whoso oft-assailed heart all hope of matrimony had not yet been driven.

As a consequence, Miss Groshartz nover permitted Tom Pegg to sco tho girls undor her charge, some ot whom were quite pretty even before Grace's coming.

She wanted him to feast his eyea on her, and her only, and hlio fondly behoved that he did.

Great, then, was her surprise when one day Tom Pogg suuglit her out and asked to bo shown through the .shop. This was not an unreasonable request, and though Miss Groshartz did not lilco it, sho had tho tact to seem pleased, and to say, with her sweetest smile :

" Oh ! I shall bo proud to show you do shop around, Mr. Pegg. But oaf you first egskuse me, I nee dot all is nice."

Miss Groshartz went into tho shop, and informed the girls that a gentleman—"ono of Mrs Lansing'.-- goot goostouiers " —was about to inspect thu place, and she wanted them—under tho penalty of instant dismissal—not to look up from their work till he had left.

When Miss Groshartz appoarod, escorting Tom Pegs, and talking in her parlour voice, the fair daughters of Eve did not look—at least not so as to attract attention, but if the forewoman imagined that they did nob see, and take the full measure of her visitor, then she showed a wonderful ignorance of tho swivel capacity of the human eye, and the unfathomed resources of the sex when there is a curiosity to be gratified, and a forbidden man to bo seen. Tom Pegg talked in a loud voice, and in his anxiety; to appear an authority he showed to Miss Groshartz, and all within hearing, his lamentable ignorance. Grace did not look up. The instaf^ he entered the shop she recognised BS^fice, and the blood leaped to her fart^?%>king it very red, and then 'ck again, leaving it very pale. <^^£ 1?^1" fi""or* s'lo arranged tho foatgßgj^N^^.ver.s on a hat, and she was in h^ifcsi^pSßgjVl l'"gg would leave the room w'£jggggsojg^ her. How could sho know tu;i,_^i===3S»- in coming was expressly to Tom i halted noar the beautiful bonnet trimmer, and although MissGroshartz showed a great desire to lead him away from that particular place, he persiited in standing and talking for fully five minutes, and Grace could not, but feel that he saw and recognised her. She breathed easier when he loft, though sho did not feel like herself for the rest of the day. As sho hurried home that evoning, and was nearing Banor'a Hotel, she heard her name nailed, and looking up, she saw Tom Pegg standing boforo her. His manner was bold and confident, and his breath told hei that he had been drinking. '■ I wish to pass on, sir," said (irace, trying to avoid tho arms lie extended to oppose her. "Why, Grace Wray," he laughed, " don't you know mo ? la this the way you treat an old friend :" " I have seen you whan T worked for your firm, but otherwise sir, I do not know you," she said, with a dignity that staggered him. " Oh, yes, you do know mo. Hero, take my arm and let us talk as we go on. I know you ran away from Brooklyn, and all about it—"

lie tried to seize her arm, but with Bur prising strength she flung him back.

He ran at her, this time with an oath, but before he could again lay li.-md.s on her a tall ligun; suddenly appeared on the soeno and leaped between them.

" Yon consummate coward !" Tom l'r.ru' heard this shouted by the man who confronted him.

The next instant ho felt fingora of steel pressing on his throat, and lie was hurled from the sidewalk into the street, where ho fell heavily.

He- staggered to his feot and demanded : " What do you mean by assaulting mo Ralph ThorntonV"

" Another word, you dog !" thundered Ralph Thornton, "and I will break overy bone in your vile carcass."

Tom Pegg evidently believed that tho young man would like to carry out this threat, for he held his peace, showing that he was not wanting in a certain kind o£ prudence. Ho .saw his assailant raising his fur cap, and he hoard him saying to Grace : " My name is RalphThornton. Pormitme to be your escort, -Miss Wray." Tom Pegg could not make out Grace's reply, but he saw her taking the proffered crm and walking oil". He brushed tho dirt from his clothes, and waiting till "Ralph and Grace were out of hearing, he ground his teeth, and .*aid, in a malignant whisper : "I'll pay you for this, Ralph Thornton. Ha ! ha ! I wonder if he knows that it is in my power to prove that he is escorting a thief ?" (To be Continued.)