For Woman's Love. Emma Dorothy Eliza Nevitte Southworth

the good of the present—your best days, lad!—and come back this evening and you shall find your pallet of sweet boughs and soft blankets ready for you," she said.

      Rule stooped and kissed her corrugated forehead and then left the hut.

      The sun was setting behind the mountain, which threw a dark shadow over Scythia's Ledge and Rule's path, as he ran springing from rock to rock down the precipice to the river's side. It was dark when he reached the spot. But the lights from the windows of Rockhold on the opposite shore gleamed out upon the snow with splendid effect.

      Every window in the front of the building was shining with light that streamed out upon the snow; for the shutters had been left unclosed on purpose, this Christmas night.

      Rule crossed the ferry and went, as he had been used to go, to the back door, opening on the back porch, where, four years before, Cora used to keep school for her one pupil. He rapped at the door, and Sylvan sprang up and opened it. He was warmly welcomed, and spent a pleasant evening. The rest of his vacation was spent in a way equally pleasant, and at seven a.m., Monday, Rule was at work, type-setting in the Watch office.

      On the third of January following that Christmas there were three departures from Rockhold. Miss Rose Flowers went East to enter upon her new engagement. Corona Haught, in charge of her grandmother and her Uncle Clarence, went West to enter the Young Ladies' Institute, in the capital, and Master Sylvanus Haught went North, in the care of his Uncle Fabian, to enter a boy's school.

CHAPTER IV.

       Table of Contents

A RETROSPECT.

       Table of Contents

      It was near the close of a cold, bright day early in January, that Mrs. Rockharrt and Corona Haught, escorted by Mr. Clarence, stepped from the train at the depot of the capital city of their State—which must, for obvious reason, be nameless—and were driven to the Young Ladies' Institute, where the girl was left, and as the adieus were being said it was explained to Cora that discretion and social conventionality dictated that her correspondence with young Rothsay should cease. Clarence stated that he would write to the youth and explain that the rules of the school, also, forbade such a correspondence.

      "I will also tell him that he can continue to send the Watch to you, with his own paragraphs marked as before," said Corona's uncle. "There can be no law against that. I will correspond with Rule occasionally, and keep you posted up as to how he is getting on. There can be no school law against your uncle writing to you."

      Cora Haught graduated when she was eighteen. In all these years she had not seen Rule Rothsay. She only heard from him through his letters to her Uncle Clarence, reported second hand to herself. She knew that in these five years Rule had risen, step by step, in the office where he had begun his apprenticeship; that he had risen to be foreman, then sub-editor, and now he was part proprietor and one of the most powerful political writers on the paper.

      The workingmen's party wished to put him up as a candidate for the State legislature. What a power he would have been for their cause in that place! but when the subject was proposed to him, he admonished the spokesman that he was, as yet, a little less than of legal age for an office that required its holder to be at least twenty-five years old.

      After Cora's graduation the Rockharrt family spent a week in their town house, preparatory to a summer tour through the Northern States and Canada.

      One morning, while the whole family were sitting around the breakfast table, old Aaron Rockharrt suddenly spoke:

      "Fabian! Now that my granddaughter has left school, she will want a companion near her own age. Miss Rose Flowers would suit very well. Have you any idea where she is?"

      "Miss Rose Flowers, my dear sir, is now Mrs. Slydell Stillwater, the—"

      "Married!" interrupted all voices except that of the Iron King, who bent his heavy gray brows as he gazed upon his son.

      "Stuff and nonsense! How did you know anything about her marriage?" demanded old Aaron Rockharrt.

      "In the simplest and most natural way, sir. I saw it in the newspapers, about three years ago. And, in point of fact, I forgot it and should never have thought of it again but for your inquiries about the young woman this morning. Her husband is Captain Slydell Stillwater, captain and half owner of the East Indiaman Queen of Sheba," replied Mr. Fabian.

      "Poor child! To be parted from her husband more than half her time. Is Captain Stillwater now at sea?"

      "I think he must be, sir, as there has hardly been time for his return since he sailed soon after his marriage."

      "Do you know where Mrs. Stillwater lives?"

      "I do not, sir; but I might find out by inquiring of some mutual acquaintance."

      "Do so. And, Mrs. Rockharrt," the King added, turning to his little old wife, "you will write a note to Mrs. Stillwater, inviting her to join our party for a summer tour, and as our guest, remember. Fabian, you will see that the note reaches the lady in time."

      "I will do my best, sir," said Mr. Fabian.

      "Very well," said the wife.

      The note of invitation to Mrs. Stillwater was written. Mr. Fabian used such dispatch in his search for the lady that his efforts were soon rewarded with success. A letter came from Mrs. Stillwater, postmarked Baltimore, in which she cordially thanked Mrs. Rockharrt for her invitation, gratefully accepted it, and offered to join the Rockharrt party at any point most convenient to the latter. This answer was communicated to the family autocrat, who thereupon issued his commands:

      "Write and say to Mrs. Stillwater that we will stop at Baltimore on our way, and call for her at her hotel on Friday; but say that if she should not be ready, we will wait her convenience."

      This letter was also written and sent off.

      Three days later the whole family left the capital for Baltimore, which they reached at night. They went directly to the hotel where Mrs. Stillwater was staying, and engaged rooms for their whole party.

      They scarcely took time enough to wash the travel dust from their faces and brush it from their hair, and change their traveling suits for fresher dresses, before they hurried down stairs to their private parlor, whence Mrs. Rockharrt sent her own and her granddaughter's cards to Mrs. Stillwater's room.

      A few minutes after, the young siren appeared.

      "Heavens! how beautiful she is! More beautiful than before! Look, Cora! Was there ever such a perfect creature?" said Mr. Clarence, under his breath.

      Cora looked at her former governess with a start of involuntary wonder and admiration. Rose Stillwater was more beautiful than ever. Her exquisite oval face was a little more rounded. Her fair complexion had a richer bloom on the cheeks and lips. Her hair was darker in the shade and brighter in the light; her blue eyes were softer and sweeter; her graceful form fuller. She was dressed in some floating material that enveloped her figure like a cloud.

      She came, blooming, beaming, smiling, into the room, where all arose to meet her. She went first to Mr. Rockharrt, and bent and almost knelt before him, and raised his hand to her lips as if he had been her sovereign; and then, before he could respond—for she saw that he was slightly embarrassed as well as greatly pleased by this adoration—she turned and sank into the arms of old Mrs. Rockharrt, and cooed forth:

      "How sweet of you to remember your poor, lonely child and call her to your side!"

      "Why didn't you tell me you were going to be married, my dear?" was the practical question of the old lady.

      "It was shyness on my part. I dared not obtrude my poor affairs on your attention until you should notice me in some