is evil necessarily connected with these amusements, or that they may not safely be enjoyed by those who have time, and who need an outlet for their spirits, or by those who wish to guard these pleasures by presiding over them.'
'Don't persuade me!' exclaimed Anne. 'I gave my word to Mr. Pilgrim that nothing should induce me to dance or play at cards.'
'Mr. Pilgrim had no right-' began Rosamond; but Julius hushed her, saying, 'No one wishes to persuade you, Anne. Your retirement during Miles's absence is very suitable and becoming.'
'Till we live in the Bush, out of the way of it all,' said Anne.
'I wish you could have seen one of our real old Christmas parties; but those can never be again, without mother herself or Mrs. Douglas.'
'Do tell me about those Douglases,' said Rosamond. 'Cecil hinted at some romance, but seemed to think you had suppressed the connection because he was an attorney.'
'Not exactly,' said Julius, smiling; 'but it is a sad story, though we have no doubt he bore the guilt of others.'
'Something about two thousand pounds!'
'Yes. It was the year that my mother and Raymond were abroad. She had been buying some property near, and sent home an order from Vevay. It did not come, and was inquired for; but as it was an order, not a draft, it was not stopped at the bank; and in about a fortnight more it was presented by a stranger, and paid without hesitation, as it was endorsed 'Proudfoot and Moy.' Old Proudfoot was away at Harrogate, and came home to investigate; young Proudfoot denied all knowledge of it, and so did his brother-in-law Moy; but Raymond, working at the other end, found that the waiter at the hotel at Vevay had forgotten to post the letter for more than a week, and it was traced through the post to Wil'sbro', where the postman remembered delivering a foreign-looking letter to Archie Douglas at the door of the office. It came alone by the afternoon post. His account was this: They were all taking it rather easy in old Proudfoot's absence; and when a sudden summons came to take the old farmer's instructions for his will, Archie, as the junior, was told off to do it. He left George Proudfoot and Moy in a private room at the office, with Tom Vivian leaning over the fire talking, as he had a habit of doing in old Proudfoot's absence. As he opened the office door the postman put the letter into his hand; and recognizing the writing, he ran back, and gave it in triumph to George Proudfoot, exclaiming that there it was at last, but he was in danger of being late for the train, and did not wait to see it opened; and when he came back he was told that it had been merely a letter of inquiry, with nothing in it, and destroyed at once. That was his account; but Proudfoot, Moy, and Vivian all denied any knowledge of this return of his, or of the letter. The night of this inquiry he was missing. Jenny Bowater, who was with an aunt in London, heard that a gentleman had called to see her while she was out for a couple of days; and a week later we saw his name among the passengers lost in the Hippolyta off Falmouth.'
'Poor Jenny! Was she engaged to him?'
'On sufferance. On her death-bed Mrs. Douglas had wrung from Mr. Bowater a promise that if Archie did well, and ever had means enough, he would not refuse consent; but he always distrusted poor Archie, because of his father, and I believe he sent Jenny away to be out of his reach. If any of us had only been near, I think we could have persuaded him to face it out, and trust to his innocence; but Raymond was abroad, Miles at sea, I at Oxford, and nothing like a counsellor was near. If Jenny had but seen him!'
'And has nothing happened to clear him?'
'No. Raymond hurried home, and did his best, but all in vain. George Proudfoot was indeed known to have been in debt to Vivian; but Moy, his brother-in-law, an older man, was viewed as a person whose word was above all question, and they both declared the signature at the back of the order not to be genuine. Archie's flight, you see, made further investigation impossible; and there was no putting on oath, no cross-examination.'
'Then you think those three had it?'
'We can think nothing else, knowing Archie as we did. Raymond showed his suspicions so strongly, that old Proudfoot threw up all agencies for our property, and there has been a kind of hostility ever since. Poor Vivian, as you know, came to his sad end the next year, but he had destroyed all his papers; and George Proudfoot has been dead four or five years, but without making any sign. Moy has almost risen above the business, and-see, there's Proudfoot Lawn, where he lives with the old man. He claims to compete with the county families, and would like to contest Wils'bro' with Raymond.'
'And Jenny?' asked Anne. 'Did she bear it as a Christian? I know she would.'
'She did indeed-most nobly, most patiently. Poor girl! at her own home she knew she stood alone in her faith in Archie's innocence; but they were kind and forbearing, and kept silence, and the knowledge of our trust in him has bound her very close to us.'
'Was that call, when she did not see him, all she ever heard of him?'
'All! except that he left a fragment of paper with the servant, with the one pencil scrawl, 'A Dieu!'-a capital D to mark the full meaning. She once showed it to me-folded so as to fit into the back of a locket with his photograph.'
'Dear Jenny! And had you traced him on board this ship?'
'No, but his name was in the list; and we knew he had strong fancy for South Africa, whither the Hippolyta was bound. In fact he ought to have been a sailor, and only yielded to his mother's wishes.'
'We knew a Mr. Archibald Douglas once,' said Anne; 'he came and outspanned by us when he was going north after elephants. He stayed a fortnight, because his wagon had to be mended.'
'O, Julius! if we could but find him for her again!' cried Rosamond.
'I am afraid Archibald Douglas is not much more individual a name than John Smith,' said Julius, sadly.
'That tells as much against the Hippolyta man,' said Rosamond.
'Poor Archie would not be difficult to identify,' said Julius; 'for his hair was like mine, though his eyes were blue, and not short-sighted.'
'That is all right, then,' cried Anne; 'for we had a dispute whether he were young or old, and I remember mamma saying he had a look about him as if his hair might have turned white in a single night.'
'Julius! Now won't you believe?' cried Rosamond.
'Had he a Scotch accent?' said Julius.
'No; I recollect papa's telling him he never should have guessed him to be a Scot by his tongue; and he said he must confess that he had never seen Scotland.'
'Now, Julius!' pleaded Rosamond, with clasped hands, as if Jenny's fate hung on his opinion.
'How long ago was this?' asked he.
'Four years,' said Anne, with a little consideration. 'He came both in going and returning, and Alick was wild to join him if he ever passed our way again. My father liked him so much that he was almost ready to consent; but he never came again. Ivory hunters go more from Natal now.'
'You will trace him! There's a dear Anne!' exclaimed Rosamond.
'I will write to them at home; Alick knows a good many hunters, and could put Miles into the way of making inquiries, if he touches at Natal on his way home.'
'Miles will do all he can,' said Julius; 'he was almost broken-hearted when he found how Archie had gone. I think he was even more his hero than Raymond when we were boys, because he was more enterprising; and my mother always thought Archie's baffled passion for the sea reacted upon Miles.'
'He will do it! He will find him, if he is the Miles I take him for! How old was he-Archie, I mean?'
'A year older than Raymond; but he always seemed much younger, he was so full of life and animation-so unguarded, poor fellow! He used to play tricks with imitating hand-writing; and these, of course, were brought up against him.'
'Thirty-four! Not a bit too old for the other end of the romance!'
'Take care, Rosie. Don't say a word to Jenny till we know more. She must not be unsettled only to be disappointed.'
'Do you think she would thank you for that, you cold-blooded animal?'
'I don't know; but I think the suspense would be far more trying than the quiet resigned calm that has settled down on her. Besides, you must remember that even if Archie were found, the mystery has never been cleared up.'
'You don't think that would make any difference to Jenny?'
'It makes all the difference to her father; and Jenny will never be a disobedient daughter.'
