Plymouth Tribune, Volume 9, Number 20, Plymouth, Marshall County, 17 February 1910 — Page 3

c

The (Quest of

B

etty 2ty MAGTA

Copyritfit. 1909, fcy VT. G. Caapmaa.

n n xx xx xx xx xx xx xx xx xx xx u xx xx xx u xx xx xx n xx xx xx xx xx xx xx xx

the story. The plot of this romance hinges on fervid human emotionslove, jealousy, avarice, hatred. Every character is intense and graphically delineated. There are two beautiful women Cerisse and Narcisse one like a pure, beautiful lily, all gentleness and affection, the other a siren whose restless spirit thrives only in excitement and change. To their lives are linked the welfare or wreck of others, and where the story is not absorbingly dramatic it becomes startlingly tragic. Since the famous days of the wonderful "mystery stories" of Poe, no romance has approximated his celebrated creations of fiction more closely than this serial. The "Man-Aperilla," the kidnaping of Betty Lancey, the marvelous "diamond" castle in Africa, the mysterious electric launch, the strange characters and their strange adventures, all combine to make "The Quest of Betty Lancey" a masterpiece of modern fiction.

xx CHAPTER L Mrs. Annie Desterle padded uncomfortably up the front stairs to the secend story front room, grumbling loudly at every step. For Mrs. Desterle, who was nearly fifty years old. and who for more than fcalf that time had supported herself nd her husband. Pierre, by keeping a boarding house, had recently begun to grow more than partridge plump. With the rapid obliteration of her girlish outlines, which process might have been checked had Mrs. Desterle been less a mistress of culinary art ard still less fond of her own cooking, had developed an increase in the transportation problem around the Desterle domicile. In these days, from the basement kitchen to the third story front was as appalling a climb to Mrs. Desterle as the Journey up j Washington monument had been when j she and Pierre had taken their honeymoon trip for sightseeing thirty J years ago. "Dear me!" puffed Mrs. Desterle at the second floor landii;?. "I believe I'll ask that woman to move when her week's up. She never gets down to breakfast and the two days she's been here she's acted mighty queer. Don't know why I'm so foolish to toll all the way up here like this, but I've rung her bell twice and she don't answer, though it's most noon. If Pierre was ever around now. Lately he seems to be of less use than ever. Strangers In the house always did make me feel nervous. I'm ui'iat afraid to climb any further; seems like I sense something wrong. And as long as I've been keeping boarders never before did I let anyone come In that I didn't know anything at all about But the poor little thing looked so tired and pretty, and her big bunch of violets smelled so sweet; why, -she was Just like a spirit coming out of the rain. It was so late, too, and. well, as I was none too careful In finding out who she was, but she's had time enough to look around by now. and I'll Just tell Miss Cerisse Wayne, as she calls herself, that shell ..ave to move to-morrow. This Is such a lovely spring day that looking for another room may bring a little color into her pale cheeks. No, I don't want her around. Young Simpson was making eyes at her last night, which Is too bad, for he's engaged to Miss Gentry. And Ada Gentry's a nice girl. She'll be getting mad and leaving next, and then he'll follow, and they're two of my best boarders; 'been here now for even Christmases." Mrs. Desterle's soliloquy and her upward pilgrimage ended with the same breath. At the end of the hall before her the door to the third story front parlor looked ominously funereal in its dull respectability of time-stained walnut. Annie Desterle was born to mergencles, and had been a mainstay and a prop all of her life, but for the first time within her memory her spirit faltered. "Urn," she sniffed, as she approached the door. "It does smell like cigarettes up here. Ada told me yesterday morning she thought she smelled smoke coming from Miss Wayne's room. Oh, Miss Wayne, Miss Wayne. Miss Wayne!" called the landlady In a succession of Crescendos. No answer came, bo tne woman In the hall knocked loudly on the door. Silence still. She tried the door. It was locked, though beneath the firm grasp of this experienced landlady, coupled with a vigorous kick, the lock gave way and the door swung open. Mrs. Desterle's quick eye gave one glance around her, her Jaw dropped and her eyes nearly catapulted out of her head. She stumbled Into the room and over to the bed. She put out her hand, startled, and Impulsively felt of the coverlets and what lay upon them. Her fingers had barely touched the sheet when a noise from the farther corner made her turn. At sight of what was there Mrs. Desterle tossed her apron over her head, and screaming, shrieking, howling, ran into the hall, tumbling down flight after flight of stairs, to fall in a helpless, frothing heap at the feet of her husband, gasping incoherently: "Upstairs, upstairs; at once! My God! My God!" Doherty, the block policeman, who did extra, watch duty on the Desterle premises for the daily luncheon that came from Annie's kitchen, had that instant arrived for his diurnal nibble. At sight of the caim Mrs. Desterle thus prostrated. Doherty made for the telephone. "'Tis a riot call I should be sendln In with Annie knocked out like this." mused Doherty. "For 'tis never she loses her head. But he simply celled the doctor and helped the little Frenchman carry his stricken wife to her bedroom. Annie Desterle lay still till they reached the second floor. At the landing she commenced her writhing again. "Upstairs, upstairs!" her blood-pur pled Hps commanded, and she vainly triad to motion towards the third story sront.

Lancey

F. WEST Copyright in Great Britain o

HE QUEST OF BETTY LANCEY is a remarkable serial. The word "remarkable" scarcely describes the merits, the intensity of plot, and situations of this strange and wierd but absolutely entrancing work of fiction. Its conception is phenomenal, its range takes in two continents. It is up to date in style, development and a variety of rare scientific developments that bring out the best detective instinct and employ wireless telegraphy and other modern appliances to the purposes of

XX XX XX 0 n n H XX XX n H XX XX XX XX XX XX XX XX XX XX n xx XX XX u XX "I'd better be seeln what's wrong in the top of the house," suggested Doherty, as they lay Annie on the bed. "Who could be up there now?" The policeman stepped blithely past Miss Gentry's room, with but a casual glance Into Its domestic depths, straight to the wide opened portal of the third story front and across the threshold. The perfume of the room was the first greeting. An odd penetrating odor that savored of things forgot, and things undone, a fragrance belonging to the mystic places of shadows, and not to one of the clean, well-soaped, and better dusted apartments of Annie Desterle's boarding house. On the cheap oak table that had been drawn close to the bed was a great bowl of dying violets. By the flowers still burned a drop light and beside this an opened fallen book as if the occupant had baited sleep with story. A gold cigarette case half emptied was under the table, and the stubs of the remainder of its contents sprinkled the floor. On the bed, clad In a soft gown, lay a young ana beautiful woman. tier Upj were softly parted, the dark lashes touched the curve of her cheek so gently that In spite of her pallor Doherty, who had looked on the dead many times in his fifteen years of police duty, pinched the thin white arm again and again and patiently held a mirror to the cold white lips before he cöuld believe that it was the girl's body only, and not her body and soül that were outstretched before him, and that she was quite dead. lie looked around the room and saw no empty vials, nor boxes, nor even a tattling white paper that might have held those silence-bringing powders women suicides affect. On the bureau was a Juggle of woman's clutter hairpins, a half dozen long Jeweled hatpins, and one thick gold bracelet set with a very large ruby. The combs and the brushes were elaborate specimens of the goldsmith's craft, and from an overturned and broken bottle of fragile glasu, heavy scent was slowly trickling, Rouge, cold cream, and savory rice powders were Jumbled In sore disorder with the collars and cleaned and soiled handkerchiefs. Even a silk stocking. small of foot and delicately green of tint, had found a resting place upon the neat linen cover of the bureau. The woman's clothing, all of the rich est make, was tossed carelessly on a big chair. A large traveling case of green morocco leather, the same soft. dull shade as the , gown and long had first come to the house, was the only luggage In the room. It bore a silver monogram, "C. W.," and was empty save for soft lingerie and two letters addressed In a masculine hand writing on heavy white paper and post marked New York. The superscription on each was the same. Miss Cerisse Wayne, Co Doubleday Franz & Co., Bankers, San Francisco, California. Doherty. thrusting, his fingers with in the first envelope, was withdrawing its enclosure when a Jlbbering over his shoulder turned him faint and sick. The policeman swerved his head. And there, grinning into his face, with its hot breath smiting his cheek, Pat rick Doherty saw the most hideous apparition mortal men might conjure out of the depths of delirium, a most fearful and terrible object. Neither gorilla, nor ape, nor man. nor demon, was this thing. It was "all four, with the repulsion of the snake. Tall, gross and hairy, its pelt the exact russet shade of the curling hair that veiled the dead woman on the bed, its eyes, black In the cornea, and white in the pupil and Iris, with half hands, and feet half hoofs, the skull of an ape, the leer of a drunken man. It grinned and smirked at Doherty. Doherty pulled his pistol. He aimed at the thing. Then he shut his eyes and staggered to the hall, blind with the flash and crazed with fright. At the door he looked back. The Thing, grinning even behind the veil , of smoke, was standing motionless where Doherty had been and beside It were the two letters addressed to Miss Cerisse Wayne. The report of the pistol had called Pierre Desterle from his wife's side. "Patreeck, Patreeck." he cried. "I'm coming. It is Pierre. What Is it?" Pierre was mounting the top stair when Doherty leaned over the banisters and pushed him back. "Not here," gasped the policeman. "Send to the station. Tell them quick the dog-catcher a riot call hurry hurry!" The Frenchman saw the Irishman's rosy face now white as chalk and his sunken eyes. The Thing within Cerisse Wayne's room began Jlbbering again. The policeman threw the frightened Desterle down stairs and waited in awful fear till help should come. CHAPTER IL As the Fiftieth street police station only a block from the DevttrU's

the squad drawn out by Pierre's hysterical summons had little time and" less opportunity for speculation ai they traversed this distance. The tacltj sentbnect prevailing was that either Desterle was drunk or that Doherty v.t. s ' sprung a bit In the head." "What's the matter. Pat?" asked Monahan, grabbing the palsied Doherey by the Shoulder, while a dozen more officers piled into the little hall and overflowed into the front room. "Riot call for a tuicide!" sneered Finn, who had always hated Doherty, and who, the first to cross the threshold had been the first among them tc discover the body. "Say. but she's i looker, anyhow, and What's that! What's that?' shrieked Finn. The Thingr, which had been cowering behind a chair, had arisen and stepped out before the policemen. Doherty' fright was fleeing, so he led the squad, and they advanced. The duel between the one and the dozen now besan, They clubbed at it. they shot at it, they grasped at it. but blows, shots, and clutches all missed fire and effect Strive as they would It eluded them They herded it into their midst and round and round the room the sträng struggle went on. The table wai overturned and the bowl of violet! struck against the shade of the falling drop light with an eerie crash. Suddenly the pursued turned pursuer Plunging straight for Doherty II wound its hairy arms around his neck and dug its long claws through th padding of his coat shoulder into 'his flesh. Monahan pulled a blanket from tht bed, FInnerty a sheet. They tied tha

sheet round the long hind legs of th Thing, they threw the blanket over its head, and they held It firmly there, till in the fright and fight to free Itself th monster loosened its grip on the fainting Doherty. The squad of officers, exhausted lr body and staggering In mind, could roll no more coverings over th scratching, writhing shape battling ta rid Itself of the swathings that rendered It helpless. The odds were that this horrible caricature of man and ape would overpower them. "If only Finley will send the dogcatcher," groaned Monahan, "then we'd have some place to put the beast." The end man of them all went out of the room and dragged the prim little mattress off Miss Gentry's bed. Just as he came up to the confused heap In the center of the death cham ber, the Thing with the surge of a bursting dam, rose up and scattered Its captors like straws. Doherty, re vived now, but mad with pain, shot out his great ox-arm and hit the mon ster squarely between the eyes. ReelIng. swaying, stunned for the time. It ! i fell over on the bed directly across the frail white dead. (To be continued.) WILD GEESE. They Never Feed Without Throwln ' Out Scouts or Sentries. Some pf the common sayings con cerning birds are stupidly wrong. "You stupid goose!" 13 an expression constantly heard, yet the goose, wheth- , er wild or tame, 13 most sagacious, i Wild geese, for Instance, never feed without throwing out scouts or sen- j tries. J. G. Mlllais describes how he saw a flock of geese feeding with sen- , tries .out, and how after a time one 1 of the sentries went up to a bird that ', was feeding and gave it. a gentle peck j on the back. The latter thereupon left f Its grazing and went off to take up ' guard, while the sentry took its turn to feed. "Gentle as a dove' 13 such a com mon proverb that the dove has become the emblem of peace. Quite a mis take, for all the dove and pigeon tribe are great fighters, and in the breeding season the cock birds indulge in battles royal. The foolish prejudice against all birds of prey Includes that pretty little hawk, the kestrel. Nov?, if the kestrel were known as the mouse falcon It 13 possible that keepers would not invariably shoot it on sight. The kestrel lives mainly on mice and wlreworms. It 13 quite Innocent of killing partridges. , In a game preserving district in southern Scotland kestrels were practically exterminated a few years ago. What was the result? Over a tract of country of 1,200 square miles field mice increased in such myriads that the grazing was absolutely ruined. One sheep farmer lost 58,000 in one year. TAIL AFRICAN" GRASS. Deantlfnl Scenes at Nicht on the Veldt "When Fir Spreads. Unlike a good deal of South Africa, Rhodesia is largely wooded. In some places the forests are of value, but a large proportion is not valued for its timber. The grass in this part of Africa grows to a phenomenal height. In the valleys, and especially In the valleys of the Sabi and Zambezi ruers it reaches Its greatest height. To say that the grass is often twelve feet high i3 no exaggeration. Naturally it is very easy to lose one's way in this grass if one i3 unfortunate enough to stray from the beaten track. It. is the custom there to burn this grass off each year when it gets dry. This Is usually in August and September or even In October. Fires burn for miles, and as the country is largely a wilder ness little damage is done by this method of destroy! ag the grass. It Is a beautiful sight at night in the fire season to see the hüls for mile3 around encircled with flames. After the grass has been burned the rainy season usually begins, and li is then that the country is at it pretti est. The grass Is then green, and the foliage oa the trees Is beautiful. The old leaves drop off gradually, and the new ones take their place before the trees are bare. The new leaves are of all shades of the rainbow, and It Is much like the fall scenery in this country when the dead leaves are fall ing from the trees. Waterfalls are nu merous In the mountains, and there are many of great height, although the rivers are usually small in volume. Springfield Republican. A Larjce Receptacle. "I watched your sister fixing her hair the other day," said Mrs. Nagget, "and I must say she s not tne most refined person in the world." "No?" replied her husband, with a belligerent air. "You don't approve of her, eh?" "Well." she retorted with a disdain ful sniff, "you never see me with my mouth full of hairpins. "Of course not." he snapped; "what do you want with so many hairpins?" Catholic Standard. Misunderstood. The attendant You mustn't handle the musical instruments, 6ir. The Visitor Oh, don't you be afraid I can't play 'em! Cleveland Plain Dealer. There Is no way of keeping th heart clean save by aiming at positlve virtues. Davies. Coney Island is sometimes visited by 500,000 people a day.

Velvet in black and other deep rich tones is very much In favor for formal gowns, and especially for walking suits. It is also used for long, handsome top coats, often with a soft white fur. The sketch shows three velvet models, each one serving in a different garment. The first figure shows a long coat of smoke gray velvet over a princess gown of gray satin cloth. It Is quaintly cut and partly covered with arabesque? of tarnished silver

Women of the Future. There is not a country in the land but bristles with Jane Austen women, says a writer. With a good many exceptions, one would not be sorry to see them go. They are kindly, but small deadly small. The woman of the future is not of this type. She is far too busy to be womanish, but she will never grow out of being feminine. She is shedding her smallness. Like the genie in the Arabian Nights, now the cork has been removed, she is darkening the whole sky like a pillar of smoke; but presently the smoke will settle into "a figure of gigantic size." She will be the Meredith woman, softened by reality, as Galatea softened into life. She will not glide about with uplifted finger like Agnes, nor drive tired men to distraction with her prattle, like Dora, nor weep eternally when George Is unkind, like Amelia. No. when she feels hysterical she will go and sit on a Himalaya till she is cooler, and when her husband annoys her out of her usual placidity, sticking a ,few pigs In Texas or India will soon put her straight. And with it all Bhe will wear her frill3 as well as ever. Health and Peauty. Beef tea Is one of the best stimulants and the poorest of foods. Acld3 taken before mcal3 and alkalis taken after meals lessen acidity. You should not take tea or coffee with any meal containing fresh meat. Malt preparations are the best remedies for dyspepsia caused by foods containing starch. In combing the hair use a coijib with blunt, widely separated teeth. Never use one with sharp teeth. Much vinegar causes gastric catarrh, whereof comes indigestion, which in turn gives rise to redness of nose. Lettuce and onions promote sleep. Resting with the head to the north is esseutial for the repost of some people. The most useful of all drugs for rickets is iron, not lime. Lime i3 useful, but iron compels the system to assimilate it. Comfortable Sweater. This sweater Is rather heavier or closer knit than the regulation garments of this sort. It is all white, in a small block design, and trimmed with large white pearl buttons and arge flat collar, in ribbed stitch matching the belt and cuffs and piece down front. The jaunty cap is also knit and makes a chic finish to a very pretty skating or sledding costume. Woman's ' I'ocket. Pockets simulated and pockets honesiy made to serve the purpose for which they are intended are a feature of the new coats, but more of those ot the cover all variety than of the mod els that appertain to the tailor-made dress and coat costume. The pockets ape placed in various positions; In one case the foldover front of a coat hides it, though there is easy access to it. In another instance the pockets are placed inside the coat in the old-fash-icned manner as part of the lining. They are useful, and, though not very large, women are thankful for them. Dry Cure for Colds. A French physician has been writing in one of the Paris papers about a cure for colds which he says 13 very old, but which a long time ago fell Into disuse and was practically forgotten. It is a very simple remedy, the only requirement being that the patient refrain from all liquids for a period of from twenty-four to forty-

VELVET IN FAVOR FOR FORMAL G0WNS;

braid. The one in the center is a black afternoon gown worn for teas, weddings and musicales. It is a belted princess, with bands of fur at the edge of the long skirt and the short sleeves. The. belt Is of black satin, with an immense rosette in front, and one long tasseled end. The hat is of velvet with white feathers. The third figure shows a street suit of dark blue velvet with stitched seams and military frogs in front.

eight hours. A spoonful of tea or coffee may be taken at meals and a small glass of water at bedtime, if thirst is very great. Rut it' is much better to do without all liquids entirely, if possible. It is not necessary, says the physician, to remain indoors while the cure is being tried; in fact, he recommends that the patient get out of door3 and breathe the fresh air. He calims that the "dry cure" Is Infallible. Silk blouses are severe. The sleeves are fiat, with little or no fullness. Flat jet ornaments, as well as those of metal, are frequently used as trimming. The vogue for gilt is now at its height, and silver trimming is also in demand. Tasseled ornaments and fringe vie with each other for chief favor in trimming. Some of the new bracelets encircle the wrist and end in a tiny jeweled bowknot. Coats are a bit closer than the halffitting ones of the past season, t and skirts are usually plaited. Bows on shoes are more la evidence than ever before. In fact, there are bows and bows and bows this season. A quaint pelerine and muff was of nhite fox, with one large pink velvet rose on each piece and silk cords and tassels. A novel trknming is made of two bands of black velvet ribbon fagot-id together, with a gold braid under the open stitchery. Transparent scarf coats of tulle or chiffon will be general favorites in al liance with evening or ultra-elaborate afternoon toilettes. There is every reason to believe that the coat with belt and deep peplum will be used again, since coats are de creasing ih length. Copper Is one of the most popular tones of the season, but it is of a reddish shade, not the brown or yellow one of former years. The jersey of 20 years ago is again In style, but this time it Is in lustrous silk, and hooks down the side and Is elaborately decorated. Favorite shopping bags of the day are as big as ever, but they are flar, and are carried under the arm with the straps over the wrist. Braiding upon coats has lost none of its vogue, and all manner of original results are gained by Its combination wUh silk cordings, rattall buttons and made ornaments. Tiny flowerlets are scattered over the evening gown of satin and placed vith the view of giving the gown a good hem finish. The flowers are partially covered with thin tissue drapery. Wonif n and the Stmge. An English writer favors the stage as a career for women. He Kays: "After all the clap-trap as to the 'danger of the stage' for women is said and done and the stage obviously Is no more dangerous than the city office, the west-end counter, or the public house bar the really clever girl, with education, good looks, a little influence and cash, and plenty of pluck, might do a great deal worse than try the stage. "One of the worst professions for men. if we believe the pessimists, it is one of the best for women; one of the few. where they are on an absolute equality with, if not in a position sunerior to. mere men. And what is a matrimonial bureau!" It will be observed that a girl who vould be an actress must have cleverness, education, beauty, influence, money and pluck. A girl with all that equipment would never need to earn her living. She need only select a husband and a home. The Happy Habit. Mothers who are constantly caution ing the little ones not to do this or nor to do that, telling them not to laugh or make a noise, until they lose their naturalness and become lit tie old men and women, do not realize the harm they are doing. There is an irrepressible longing for

ATI

amusement, for rollicking fun, in young people,' and if these longings

were more fully met in the home it would not be so difficult to keep the boy and girl under the parental roof. A happy, joyous home is a power ful magnet to child and man. The sacred memory of it has kept many a person from losing his self-respect and from the commission of crime. Fun 13 the cheapest and best medi cine in the world for your children is well as for yourself. Give it to hem In good, large doses. It will not only save you doctors' bills, but it will also help to make your chil dren happier, and will improve their chances in life. The very fact that the instinct to play the love of fun is so imperious in the child shows great necessity in its nature which if suppressed will leave a famine in its life. A sunny, joyous, happy childhood Is to the individual what a rich soil and genial sun are to the young plant. If the early conditions are not favorable, the plant becomes starved. This is true with the human plant A starved, suppressed, stunted child hood makes a dwarfed man. A joyous, happy, fun-loving environment devel ops powers, resources and possibilities which would remain dormant in a cold, repressing environment. eedleTork Notes. A running or darning stitch is the best for padding small spaces In French or satin stitch embroideries. A lovely centerpiece of fine linen was beautifully decorated witn Mounteniellick embroidery In the mast exquisite design. Chinese, Indian and Bulgarian em broideries are favorites for all kinds of bags, card case3 and veil and hand kerchief cases. It is better to use light-blue transfer paper for tracing embroidery designs that the dark colors, as these are apt to rub off and soil the article. A linen or denim shoe bag, with one Japanese motif of simple though striking design on each pocket, is a useful and attractive gift for a .man. Practical and attractive lamp mats are made of linen in gray or the nat ural color embroidered in shades that harmonize with the furnishings of the room. To pad a wide edge for a button holed scallop, go over the outline with a row of catstltch or with the loose chain stitch. This saves many stitches of padding and serves the same pur pose. Hat for a Yodiik Girl. While this is a Parisian model, it could nevertheless be copied by one ot the many private and inexpensive milliners for a very reasonable amount of money. If the exact shape is unobtainable, a near duplicate should be covered with black velvet and trimmed generously with white marabout. The result is, indeed, pleasing. The Home Storeroom. The cellar or other similar room in which vegetables and fruits, either green or canned, are stored for winter should have the windows open on mild days for ventilation and for lowering the temperature of the room for chilling the store. The cooler they are held without freezing, the better they will keep. Bacteria which cause fermentation and decay cannot grow and multiply in low temperature. Dry cold will-always hold them in check. Best Thins; That Happened. Man is a lazy animal, and the best thing that ever happened in his his tory was when Adam's wife ate the apple and they both were turned out of a tropical Eden to earn their bread by the sweat of their brows. Lancet,

A TBgÄffiDC

Tiy MUS. LOVBTT CA.MEHOJV Selber ! ! Gras Con try," "A Daughter's Heart; "A Sister's Sis," -Jack's Secret," Etc, Etc.

I' M

CHAPTER XXVI (Continued). He had died, but he had died happy! He believed her to be staunch and true, and he knew nothing in his last moments of that terrible letter it had taken her such hours to wTite, and In which she had told him that she had seen once more at a distance the face of the man she loved, and that having seen It she felt she could never, never give herself to any other on the face of the earth. To her dying day Irene never ceased to be thankful that he had not read it. for had poor Joe Taunton opened that letter, she would have felt herself to be guilty of his death. As it was. he died loving her, trusting her, believing in her, and his last aAlon after leaving her the previous day, had been to sign his name to a will that left to her everything belonging to him that was not strictly entailed upon his cousin, the heir-at-law. He had left her a clear forty thousand pounds, absolutely rmd entirely, besides the Cottage at Chatswell which he had already given to her; she had in addition the many beautiful Jewel; and ornaments he had lavished upon her. Moreover, he had left to Lady Garland a legacy of four hundred and fifty pounds, presumably to clear those trousseau bills which had been run up by her so ruthlessly on Irene's account. Yet Irene was for a long time very Inconsolable, and for some months her health suffered severely. Her aunt, who was in no hurry to get rid of her now that she was an heiress, persuaded her to leave town almost immedir ately; and, throwing up her owr engagement to stay with her daughter, she accompanied her to a quiet seaside place on the south coast of Devonshire, where for many months the two ladies lived in the strictest retirement. And It so happened therefore, quite naturally and without any effort of hers, that Irene never happened to hear of the death of Rupert Carroll's wife until long after. One day, wandering by herself along these sands at low tide beneath the red sandstone cliffs. Irene suddenly met a lady and gentleman walking arm and arm towards her. Even now, although she knew that she was mistaken, and that this man was not her Rupert, his extraordinary likeness to him startled her once more and made her heart beat violently. Almost Involuntarily she stopped, and Lord Netheryllle, recognizing her. Instantly stopped too he smiled and lifted his hat. "Miss Garland! I think It is time I claimed acquaintance with you on my own account." he said, pleasantly, "though I am not the man I believe you take me for. Will you let me present my wife Lady Nethervllle we were married yesterday in town, and have come down here for a breath of sea air and a little quiet honeymooning," and Irene found herself shaking hands with the very lady with the yellow hair whom she had so often seen with him before. "Lord Nethervllle thinks you must have taken him for his cousin. Miss Garland." explained the bride, who seemed to have softened down her rouge, and looked all the better In consequence. Happiness had improved her in every way. She was quieter both In dress and in manner. "Pray, tell me, Lord Nethervllle," inquired Irene, blushing very mach, "howit is that you resemble Mr. Rupert Carroll so extraordinarily?" "He Is my first cousin, as my wife says, and our mothers were twin-sisters, whose resemblance to one another was, I believe, very remarkable. This. I suppose, accounts for the likeness between their ons.M After a little pause, Irene found courage to say: "And Mr. Carroll? he Is quite well. I hope?" "He was quite well when last I heard of him. thanks," he answered; but he did not volunteer any further Information about Rupert, except to mention the death of his wife, and Irene was too shy to pursue the subject CHAPTER XXVII. It was a lovely morning In the Llrt week in April; the trees were all -ob-Ing themselves in haste with that fresh and tender greenery that heralds the approach of early summer; the lilacs and laburnums were bursting Into flower; the apple blossoms In the orchards scented the air with their delicate perfume; the garden borders were gay with tulips and hyacinths, and the birds were singing thanksgivings In every bush and from every tree top. The old cottage at Chatswell was awake and alive betimes this lovely morning. Billy had been sweeping and weeding, and rolling the gravel paths with assiduous diligence for a week past. Clean white curtains had been put up In the diamond -paned windows all over the house. And one little bedroom in particular had been newly scrubbed and cleaned and furbished up with special and loving care. In the garden, as in the house, the six little pale-faced London children were working hard; some were helping the cook; some were gathering rhubarb and parsley In the kitchen garden, or picking large bunches of pansies and of wallflower to decorate the house, and that one little upper bedroom In particular. There was a general a!ro. happy bustle and excitement over the whole establishment. For Miss Garland, their beloved benefactress, was expected to-day to come and stay with them. Miss Glbbs, the matron, alone was anxious and preoccupied; for Irene had given her tc understand that her visit might very likely be prolonged Indefinitely. In which case she imagined that Miss Garland would take up the duties of matron herself in the little home, and that her own services might be no longer required. This thought made Miss Gibbs very sad. for sh was fond of the place and the children, and she had no wish to leave it Her heart beat anxiously when Irene alighted at the gate from the fly which had brought her from the station. Irene had never looked more lovely. Not all the gay, fashionably-made gowns that she used to wear when she was reckoned the smartest as well as the prettiest girl in London society, set off her beauty one-half so well as did this simple dress of Quaker grey, guiltless of fringes and trimming., and all of those wonderful combinations of cut and of drapery In which town dressmakers are wont to display their skilL Irene had surely gained some deeper experience, some wider sympathies, some graver perceptions of life. There was a tender and serious womanliness about her now, that had been lacking in her of old. The very way she met poor Miss Gibbs' tremulous questions showed how mindful she was of the feelings of others. "Turn you out Miss Glbbs? What n ideal" she exclaimed, in gentle surprise, "Oh, Indeed, I should not treat

IBULINHDEIS

you so ungratefully! I am only try ing to arrange for the purchase of those three cottages across the road in order to turn them into another home In that case we should be able to take In twelve or fourteen children Instead of six, and I should put you in charge of the new bouse, and retain the supervis ion of this one myself, but I should not think of losing your services altogether. and for the present. I have only come to talk over this new idea, and to stay with you a littlo while as a guest." Mies Gibbs breathed anew and thanked her effusively for her kindness, and Irene went on to talk to her little pensioners. Presently, when the children had all gone into the house for their dinner, Irene wandered down by herself to the river side. A stout iron fence ld been set up at the end of the garden, lest any of the chlMren should stumble Into the water, but she opened the locked gate with the key 6he had brought with her. A narrow pathway ran outside along the side of the river. She sat down close to the edge amongst the rushes that bordered the path. It wa all very" still and peaceful. The quiet stream flowed placidly past her. the willows opposite mirrored their drooping boughs in the tranquil water; there were no lilies yet. neither the golden buds of the yellow ones, nor the regal crowns of the white ones; it was too early in the year for them, but on the island opposite, the king-cups were spangling the ground, and a brightbreasted kingfisher sat motionless on a willow Lough watching for his prey. There was neither skiff, nor canoe, nor punt, belonging to the Cottage now. A longing came over Irene to go upon the water to those who love boating, the river becomes a positive worship, and the sensation of floating upon the ever moving and varying stream, with its shadows and Its green reflections. Is one of purest and keenest delight "It is all changed!" thought Irene with a sigh. "It Is like myself tht same yet something quite, quite different! The past never renews itself never!" But all the time 6he experienced the same almost childish longlnt to be out upon the rippling water. At that moment her ears caught the distant sound of a sharp and regular click. It was out of sight and yet It came nearer and nearer. Irene knew that sound well. It was the ring of the punt pole as the Iron strikes down amongst the stones on the bed of the river. She experienced a vague excitement -as it drew nearer, and she bent eagerly forward to watch the opening of the back-water. Presently she saw a punt glide out of the shadows round the far end of the Island. A man stood In it. The purt Bwung round and came towards her. The man was facing her she sprang to her feet then stood stock still, trembling violently, yet motionless, waiting for him with a wildly beating heart. He was quite close to her now. she could see his face plainly; the dark eyes that flashed with Joy, the lips that smiled a welcome, the grey hair that curled crisply beneath the straw hat Was she dreaming? Was she mad and was this an hallucination of her brain or was she dying, and was it her last vision of-the lovely world shewas leaving forever? Then he came quite close, and the punt graed upon the shore; he held out his hand to her. "Irene, my love! Irene!" he said, and she knew his voice, and that it was himself, at last and no vision or dream. "It is you! It is you!" she repeated, bewilderedly. "How wre you here? what miracle has brought you back ta me?" Then he laughed happily, and grasped her hand and drew her down r the punt by his side. "You did not see me in your train this morning? I followed you frora town. I came home frm America only yesterday, and I went at once to your aunt's house. When I heard from the servants that you were coming to Chatswell to-day, I determined to fol low you here, Irene; I thought that it" would be as sweet to you as to me that we should meet again here here, on the very spot where we parted on that happy moonlit night so long ago! Come, let us go up to the lasher to gether, my love, whom I lost so mis erably, but have found again at last; nevtir to lose again. We have so much, so very much to say to each other! Come out on the dear old river with me, and let me tell you all." So she went with him to the old place under the weir, and there. A In sight of the tumbling waters, .where long ago he had told her of his love, the strange and tragic story of all that had parted them, was made clear fa her at last There is not a happier couple now In all England than Mr, and Mrs. Carroll; they live entirely In the country. In a charming house they have bought about three miles from Chatswell. whose gardens slope down to the riv ers edge. Cottage Convalescent Homes have increased and multiplied, and Miss Glbbs reigns supreme over eigh teen pale-faced London children who are now their constant inmates, whilst Billy Watson has been promoted to the proud position of head gardener, wit a boy to order about under him. Lads Garland Is dead, she succumbed to Influenza last winter abroad, but Louise Carroll Is very well, end is a frequent visitor to her brother's house; she has become very fond of her new sister-in-iiw as she used to be of poor Agatha, and by-and-bye when a smal' Louise and a yet smaller Harold have been added to the family group, she developed into the most abjectly devoted maiden aunt In the world. The Nethrvilles. too. often com down to stay with their cousins; as they have no children of their own. little Harold, as heir to the title, cornea in for a good deal of attention' from Lord N'etherville. ! But Irene often says to her husband: "After all, I cannot think why I over mUtook Netherville for you. Rurrt; he is not half so fjood-lookin?!" "Put then his hair is not grey!" h replies, laughing. "No, but that only makes you .11 ths handsomer!" she retorts, fondly. (The end.) Temperamentally Affected. "Clothes make a great difference la people," said the thoughtful woman. Yes," answered Mrs. Flimgilt, "1 have known one of ray new gowns to change my husband into a perfect bear." Washington Star. This is the highest learning, 1 The hardest and the best; From self to keep still turning. And honor all the rest. George MacDanali.