Bloomington Progress, Bloomington, Monroe County, 13 October 1899 — Page 3

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CHAPTER I.

"And yet," said Gladie Beaton to her

self, "wise people tell us that there is a doctrine of compensation by which all

things are made equal. I should like to see any wise man who would tell me that

I am as happy, as prosperous, as beloved

as Lenore Audley."

xne girl musing stood at tne open

French window of a beautifully fumiaihed

drawing room. On a couch at the end of

the room lay a lady sleeping, with an ex

pression of angelic patience on what had

been a beautiful face; the blinds were

drawn to shut out the sunlight. On a ta

bie 'by her side stood every luxury that

love could procure a plate of grapes, a ripe peach, books periodicals, flowers. The hands of the sleeping woman were folded

in that most pitiful and helpless fashion which tells that one is almost blind. The girl at the open window had been reading to her, and, finding her asleep, had gone to look for the first amusement which offered itself. Prom the window she

saw one of the prettiest pictures that even

a poet could dream.

A beautiful girl, with a figure graceful

and perfect, was standing cm the lawn a girl who, from the midst of a thousand

others, would rivet the eyes and atten

tion; a fine, supple figure, full of grand, free grace, with a frank, brave courage;

limbs that might have made a sculptor's

study a beautiful face, fair and sweet, yet full of tire and courage 'the face of a dauntless woman, whose resources would be endless. Looking at her, one thought, almost involuntarily, of the great

queens whose names live in legend and

song.

She was standing near a large acacia tree .the white blossoms of which she shook from time to time from her dress and her bright hair. Two gentlemen were with her, and at first sight you yould have

dubbed one knight, the other poet. Cyril Leslie Vernon, a tall, dark man, with a

proudt yet frank face, a courtly manner, a knightly figure, powerful and well built, stood on her right hand. Austin

Chandos, on whose spiritual face poet was

written, stood on hp? left. She looked from one to the other with a laughing

iigm ix. ier lovely eyes.

"My knight and my poet," she said,

you win natter me until I believe my

eeif really a queen. Who says I am iike

Diane, who is a dream of loveliness?"

I say it" replied Cyril Vernon, raising

ms cap and bowing.

"Who says I am like the queen, whom

to look at was to listen to music, and to

love was madness?

"I say so," replied Austin Chandos,

Dowmg low.

of little English girls, who seem to me to live among flowers and kind words. One thing often recurs to me; wo brought with us an old Indian ayah, who had been my nurse; she used to open my hand and look into it. 'Warfare and bloodshed she would say, 'when the line of life began

and, bloodshed again what a fate for

little missy.' "

"That is all nonsense," said Cyril, the

kmght. I do not believe in any of those

superstitious fancies."

"1 am sorry to say that I do," said

Austin Chandos. "I have known more

than one of those old weird prophecies to

oome true." Lenore laxighed. . "My old ayah may have been right.

she said; "and if that is the case, the wonderful events of my life are not over

yet. Gladie is coming."

The girl standing at the window had stepped suddenly on to the lawn, and was

coming toward them. "Is mamma awake?" asked Lenore. "Yes; hut she wished to be alone, so told me to join you." The gentlemen bowed; but there was no great expression of delight on their faces. "I am glad you have come, Gladie," said Lenore. "These gentiletmen are talking of science that verges on the magic art. Do you believe in telling fortunes?" ."Xo," said Gladie. "I believe in no other fortune save that which every man and, woman makes for him or herself." Her voice was clear and musical, but

there was something in it not pleasant

to a keen listener something which made

one look again at her face.

I am inclined to the same opinion."

said Lenore. "One of our best writers

has expressed that well. There is no fate but that which the strong hands of a man

carve out for himself." v

"Those are noble words," said Cyril. But the poet looked doubtful. "Shall we go down to tne riverside?"

asked Lenore. "We shall have time to walk there and back before mamma

wants us."

It was worthy of notice that neither of

the gentlemen seemed very anxious that

Miss Beaton should accompany them

Meith?r of them moved from Lenore's

side, yet each gave the other a glance

wnicn said plamly: "Why are you not no

lite enough to walk with Mists Beaton?"

Lenore quickly appreciated the situa

tion. She turned round.

"Gladie," she said, "walk with me."

And the gentlemen were punished, like

two naugfity schoolboys, by having to

walk together.

.lnis is quite a monopoly, ladies." said

Cyril, the knight, "I do not find Mr.

"Why should they lovo her and ignore me? I have beauty, I have wit, I have talent; I could do and dare anything,' Why am I not loved as sihe is? Love or, no lovo, I swear one thing, no matter if vt. takes twenty years, no matter if I do not succeed unit i I I come to die, no matter' what sin, what worry, what evil I work,' no matter who suffers or what they suffer, I raise my right hand and swear that Cyril Leslie Vernon shall love me before he dies; I swear that I will trample all scruple under foot, but I will win hia

lovo! I have found out her secret. She

loves Cyril Vera.m the bovSt; but she shall

never have him, for I swear to win him if

I lose all the world besides."

SOME NEW CHAPEAUX.

CHAPTER II.

Mrs. Audley, blinded by the discharge

of a pistol in the hands of a Sepov in In

dia, under skilled surgical care was, after

many years, quite recovering her sight.

She grew very much attached to the

two cousins, whose coming was her chief

amusement and delight. During the love

ly, warm July days they were there con-

tmualiy; they had grown quite at homo at the Manor House. She would sit in the comfortable invalid chair that Austin had constructed for her, while they wan

dered down to the river. They were sit

ung on the bank one evening Lenore.

Gladie, Austin and Cyril watching tha

gorgeous sunset, and the red lights thai

fell from the western skies over the calm, deep waters. "Did I teffl you," said Austin, "that Miss Elsa Grey had returned home, and a grand fette is ix be given in honor ot the event?" Lenore raised her beautiful head. "Who is Miss Grey?" she asked. Austin laughed. "That question betokens great ignorance of what my uncle calls 'the county magnates,' " he replied. "Miss Elsa Grey is the only daughter and heiress of Peter, commonly called Squire Grey, of Moulesmere a young lady educated in the first Parisian fashion." Lenore looked profoundly indifferent, Gladie vitally interested. "Is she beautiful, Mr. Chandos?" sh asked. "I have not seen her. Cyril and I do not seem to know her, though we often go to see the squire, and he talks ol nothing but his daughter. This fete ot ball, I think it is is to introduce her to the neighborhood." "Are you both going?" asked Gladie, and her eyes dwelt anxiously on the dark handsome face of the maui near her. ilTTT J HI

we snail go so will you every one

Pelt and Pique Hats Are Much in Favor This Season. Felt and pique hats are much in favor. Some are rather mannish in their appearance, lime. lie jane, in Paris, has been wearing a drab felt hat quite in the hatter style, with no other trimming than a baud of ribbon around the crown. Mile. Autocolski went further still; she wore a soft mauve pique hat

i

a mk vara

V9 TfW

MS hl

1 W JM

SOME SEW CHAPEAUX. I

will go," replied Austin. "I expect a per feet furor for everything Ereuch aftei this." "You will be disappointed," said Lenore. "I rihall never imitate. I may orig-

The sweet, sunny Jaugh rang out in the Austin Chandos a very lively companion."

sunlit air.

'I must thank you both, gentlemen,'

auu int; uneenui voice, "lou comnare

me to heroines of every kind and degree-

to queens, whose very souls were dark with guilt, and to sirens who by songs lured men to death. I ought to be more

flattered than I am."

The laughter died away in her face, and

a light came over it, as she raised her

nead prouduy and said

"There's only one title that pleases me, and it is 'a soldier's daughter.' I am

prouder of being Col. John Audley's

aaugnxer tnan l snould be of being crown' ed sovereign of the British Isles- and In dia."

"Do you remember anything of India?"

asked Austin, the poet.

Aot very much. At times a dream

ponies to.me of fierce sunshine and huge

ees, oi dart figures, with quiet, Sly

yements, of sitting under the shade

.listening to the military band, my

. J rast clasped in my father's." India can have no very pleasant mem-

TOT vrm " enirl flvi-il

e beautiful face grew pale and sad

o, do not speak of it. To other Deo-

is all a thin IT of tha naf n

. 0 " - ". jfuv, uic

fiorribiy real. We lived at Cawnfe; had a lovely house there; it was

neu scarlet flowers. . I have the

oie otMie scene before me now. There

a hSree clamor a wild, trrihio

My ..father rnsfliprt inrf-n

- . MIC te, breafjiless, sword in hand. My

wiaspea me to her. I heard noth-

"Do you not" said Lenore. "PerhaDs

Miss Beaton will prove more entertaining company for you. Mr. Chandos, let me

see if that is the truth or a libeJ."

The face of Mr. Chandos lighted up

with wonderful brightness as he took his

place by Lenore's side, and they talked gayly. He fancied that was a decided

matter of preference on her side for him.

Gladie Beaton lingered in crossing the

patn that led down to the river, while

uyrii evidently wished to remain as near

as possible to Lenorehe liked to catch

the chime of sunny laughter, the ring of

ner gay words.

'I am afraid you are disappointed." she

said. "You came to see Miss Audlev.

and now you have to put up with me."

l am very fortunate," he 6aiL "to

have the pleasure of talking to you, Miss

jseaton."

'But it was Miss Audley you came to

see," she said; and he wondered a little

at the persistence in her tone. He did

not see the keen anxiety in her face as she watched his. 1

"Certainly I came to see Miss Andlv.

and I met Mr. Chandos, bent on the same

errand; but because a man sets out with

only one pleasure in view, that is no rea

son why he should not enjoy two."

ller face cleared a little. "If it really be a pleasure." she said.

doubtingiy.

How can it be otherwise?" he asked.

with great politeness; but the dark eyes, watching him so keenly, saw that while

he talked to her, while he carefully re-

"l eIasl1 ot swords, the cries of moved every bramble from her path, he puotnet and aunt, my father's deep was looking at the beautiful figure in the

"i6'us as lie called them dastards

s.

TO

in a woman and child. I, who speak

u &v aie m the heart of this green

M saw my p,etty sirVlsh auut kUJ.

i saw my rather carried off; and I eft, so they told me, with my mothdead. My father was shot that day, fightingto the last moment for

vgusa laaies and children who were

Iana ueienseless. voice rang out, clear as the sound rlanon.

nobler soldier ever served Enrrinnr?

1 in India, than my father. John

Ktdwey; my one great pride is that I am his child. My mother's life and mine

were saved by Sergt. Maj. Henry Beaton; he helped us safely off to England; and my mother brought his daughter,' Gladie, back with her. Both her parents were subsequently killed, and she has been our adopted child and sister ever sinde, and will be while we live; the old ties are strong." "What a childhood!" said Austin, the poet; "I do not like to think of it." "Ye it was different to the childhood

figure in the

A flush of indigna Suddenly she stop

gray trailing dress, tion burned her face ped.

I think I will go back to Mrs. Aud

ley," she said; "she may want me."

Cyril said nothing; he did not press her

to go or stay, but stood quietly while she decided. He bowed as she Dassed

him, and then hastened to overtake Le-' nore. When she had walked on for some short distance, Gladie Beaton stood still to watch him.

"Is it fair?" she cried; "is it fair?

Heaven has given her an angel's face, she has a laugh like the chime of silver bells, she has a voice like music, she has

money, she has everything, and they both love her the dark-haired one with the eyes of fire and the fair one with the pale face they both love her, and no one loves me; they worship the ground she stands on, they watch her similes, they hang on her words; they love her they love hea." A flush of plfssionate anger came to her face, her eyes grew .dark, her scarkit lip trembled.

inate, but imitate never.'

"I anticipate great amusement," said Austin. "My unde talks so incessantly of Miss Elsa Grey, that I quite expeot he will give us an aunt." Gladie's face fell.

"You do not, surely, think Sir Joyce lyn wiia marry?" she asked.

"I cannot tela. I wish he would," said

Austin.

so do l," added Cyril. "1 cannot imagine why he did not marry years ago." "But," said Gladie, "if he did so you could not pray pardon my plain speaking

you would not be his heirs."

"For nry part," said Cyril,, the knight, "I would then thousand times rather fight my own way in life, make my own for

tune and enjoy it, than I would take any

other man s place. '

"And I," said Austin, the poet, "have no wish for wealth, only that I might

live for my art."

4xou are very singular characters," said Gladie. "I did not think real people

were ever indifferent to money only people in books." "I should like to make it for myself," said Cyril. "I onjly want enough to live on, so that I may devote my life to my mistress and queen, poesy." Gladie turned hei: handsome face from them to the river. "I understand practical people best," she said. "It seems to me that money is the stepping stone, to everything else." "Not quite," said the knight. "Not at al," said the poet. But Gladie remained unconvinced. Then Lenore said the sun had set, and they went back to Mrs. Audley. The;

told her about the coming of Elsa Grey.

"J. neard Lady Mostyn speak of her," she said. "I shall be glad when she

comes home, Lenore. I hope you will like

her. Yrou have not many friends."

No, but, mamma, I should not like

many. 1 prefer the few we have and home."

There was no other thought in the

girl's mind, but Austin and Cyril both

looked pleased, and felt even more pleased than they looked.

They talked, as they rode home, oi

Elsa Grey; neither of them liked the idea;

it would bring about changes; they had a dim presentiment of evil connected with it. They did not speak of Lenore thev

had never epoken to her of Jove, nor to

each other of the love they had for hei

it was more safe aud more easy to talk

of Elsa Grey.

"I prophesy evil from the coming ol Miss Elsa Grey," said Austin. "I would far rather that she remained in Paris?," said Cyril. Yet neither of them knew why thej said so. That evening when they reached Eastwold, the first thing Sir .Toycelyn told them was that Elsa Grey had reached home. "Look out your poems, Austin," he said. "Cyril, brush your spurs. Here is a lady worth fighting for, aud the best man will win." The grand ball at Moulesmere was giv

en, nut ignore declined the invitation, nor did Gladie care to accept it; but the day afterward the leading county journal contained a long, eloquent, animated description of the debut of the heiress ot Moulsemere. Sir Joycelyn smiled as h read it. "I must see about my plan at once," h said, "or she will be wooed and married before we know where we are;" and then he laid down his ,aper to think. Cl be cwatinnedj

without any trimming at all; it had a straight brim like a man's hat and was

worn over the eyes. Handsome hats for fall are trimmed with daintily

twisted ehiffonue. A new reddish straw hat is very broad, turned up on

the left side, with two deep scallops,

in each of which was lodged a Louis XV. bow in black velvet ribbon. There

was no other trimming except some

choice heads of feathers placed in all

directions. For women who are in

dined to be stout straw toques, with

wide rolled borders, trimmed very low, are most becoming. A drapery of lace, mousseline de soie, or a few rosettes suffice for trimming. A bird of para

dise feather drooping over the border

of the hat aud showing beneath a veil

always looks well.

MASTERS IN "TOUCHING" ART.

Two Smooth Methods of Raisins Fuuds

Practiced by Dead Beats. "The man who 'touches' you by means of a messenger-delivered note.

containing a ballad-and-waltz story of the predicament he is in and his terrific need for if 2) in.3ta.ntl3', considers the-

percentage about right when he puts

one out of two such 'touches under

wire.

"I stood for one like that once," says

a writer in the Washington Star. 'Said nis wife was ill, and that he needed the money the worst way. I split tlie amount of his 'touch' in two and sent the half to him. That evening I saw him out at a suburban resort, taking

dinner with his wife, who looked to be, and was, in Amazonian health. He has bated me ever since. I wouldn't mind that, however, if he'd only make good." "Then there's the jolly 'toucher.' " "S'pose it's all off up at my camp,' he says with all the good humor in life. Found my groceryman sitting on the steps when I went home yesterday afternoon, and I had to put up a scrap to get by him. S'pose he's seized one of -the kids for ransom to-day.'

-vny uon t you pay your grocery

bill, then?' you ask him. " 'Dern the luck. I don't know why

I don't,' he says, laughing all over. 'Got mixed up in a poker game last pay day aud, saj", what d'ye s'pose happened?

I got four jacks in a jackpot, and I just ask you, man to man, didn't it look like

a pipe? Well, sir, if one o' the other

ieliows didn t have four kings, I hope I may never,' etc. If you haven't got

the sense that you came into the world with you'll cough up more or less strongly to help out this jolly ass with

his groceryman. (I grieve to remark.

in parentheses, and in a hushed tone,

that I didn't exhibit the sense I was

born with once just once.)" . .

Intricacies of the Language. "Zee America ine language ees oue zat

ees asily c-omprehendez, I don't zink," said the French boarder to the young

man who never eats veal.

"You seem inclined to kick about it."

"Oui. I am notations making of ze leetle oddities zat I encounter in ze, vat you call orthography." "Yes?" "Oui. You spell s-h-o-e?" "We do." "And blue, b-l-u-e?" "Exactly."

"Well, what of it?" "And bluing, b-l-u-i-n-g?" "Well, haven't we a right to?" "Oui. But why are you so economical as to smuggle out de leetle e in bluing and make him so conspicuous in shoeing? Ah! Zat is where I has got yu!"

"Tommy, who was Joan of Arc?" asked the teacher. "Ncah's wife," was Tommy's guess.

He If she is a girl of ideas, as you say, why does she conceal them? She -She wants to get married. Life. Maud Do you like to have men flatter you? Ethel Oh, I don't mind, if they happen to be photographers. Bazar. Good man Do you know where little boys go that smoke cigarettes? Bad boy Yep! Dey goes out in de woodshed. Landlady Isn't this a good chicken? Boarder It may have been a good chicken morally, but physically it was a wreck. Judge. "I suppose you have become pretty thoroughly familiar with golf by this time." Familiar with it? Yv'hy, sir, I think in golf. Chicago Tribune. A Literary Pursuit. Hoxey That young chap in the golf suit writes for

a living. The Lady For the magazines? Hoxey No; mostly to his father. Life. Browne Waiter, bring me a dozen oysters on the half-shell. Waiter Sorry, sah, but we's all out of shell-fish, sah, 'ceptin' aigs. Rochester Union and Advertiser. "I wish to see some of the current magazines, please." "Current magazines? Certainly. John, show this lady the Electric Spark and the Storage Battery." Ex. "Long before I met you I had heard of your family,-' said the count. "Yes," replied the beautiful girl, coldly; "I believe papa is quoted in Bradstreet's." Chicago Evening Post. "Clementine, what did you do with that curtain goods you boaght last week?" "Well, it was entirely too gay and loud for curtains, so I made a shirt waist of it." Chicago Record. "Yes," said' the excited man, "he tried to act' the hog and treat me like a dog, but I soon showed him he was playing horse with the wrong man when he monkeyed with me!" Indianapolis Journal. "Don't touch me," said the chrysanthemum, as it leaned away from the rose. "I would be fooKsh to attemptit," replied the rose; "it's a well-known fact that you haven't got a scent." Chicago News. BLew Himself Off: Bentley How

did Larkins meet his death? When we

left him last night he seemed unusually jolly. Vesburgh- He tried to blow out the electric light in his room and burst

a blood vessel. Harlem Life.

Aeronaut I'm going to Philadelphia

next week to give a balloon ascension and want some handbills printed. NewYork Printer Yes, sir; how would this

do? "Professor Parryshoot will rise from the dead at 4:30 sharp." Puck.

"I'll tell you," said Sammy Snaggs, that man talked straight from the

shoulder." "Samuel," sa:d Mr. Snakes.

severely, "you should not use slang." "But, father, this was a deaf and dumb man, and he used the sign language." "Tell Mr. Cuthbert I'm out." "I haf alreaty told him madanie is in." "Then say when you came upstairs you found me out." "But, madame, he alreaty says he has found you out, and zat is vy he must see madame." Pick-Me-Up. Mrs. Unsoflst They say that the Minneapolis can steam twenty-four knots an hour. Mr. Unsoflst That's what she can do. Mrs. Unsoflst I suppose they steam them so that the poor sailors can untie them more easily. Brooklyn Life. Weaving a spell: He I am a; in favor of the English than the American mode of spelling. She Yes? He Yes, indeed. Take 'parlour,' for instance; having n' in it makes all the difference in the world. Boston Christian Register. "Mi White," said a lawyer to a witness in the box, "at the time these

papers were executed you were speculating, were you not?" "Yes, sir."

'You were in oil?" "I was.

'And

A Fisherman's Paradise. The record just published of a fish

ing expedition in Lapland should be

good reading for anglers. The nartv

was oue of two rods, with followers.

L'bey fished for eleven days, aud se

cured a total ol '2H2 salmon ami 115 grilse, weighing in all nearly 5,0(10 pounds. The best day's catch for one rod was thirty-three salmon and twen-iy-two grilse, or a total weight of 553 pounds'. It should be added that the tisliing party had to wait their opportunity, for when they arrived at their destination the river was frozen, and when the thaw came there was at lirst 00 much water for Ashing. The Ulobe.

what are you in now?" "Bankruptcy," was the solemn reply. Tit-Bits.

Guest (attempting to carve) What

kind of a chicken Is th!s, anyhow? Waiter Dat's a genuine Plymouth Rock, sah. Guest (throwing up both

hands) That explains it. I knew sh

was an old-timer, but I had no idea sshe dated back to the Mayflower.

"Goodness! We'll miss the opera.

she said, impatiently; "we've been waiting a good many minutes for that mother of mine." "Hours, I should say." he replied, somewhat acrimoniously. "Ours?" cried she, rapturously; "oh, George, this is so sudden." Then she fell upon his neck.Standard Times. Widow Jackson Wy, it was like dis way, parson. My husband went up on de hill top to pray for rain aud got struck by lightning. Parson Johnson

But yo' mustn't lose faith in prayer,

sister. Widow Jackson (complacently) Oh, no, parson! Dat proves de Lord

do answer prayer. Not alwavs In da

way we ask for it, but in a way dat'U

be best for all bauds. Judge.