Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 21, Number 97, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 24 August 1900 — Page 2

Wedded for Gold

CHAPTER V.—(Continued.) He laid the notes down with a feeling of burning pain, a thrill of passionate anguish that frightened him. Nothing on earth, no power of man, should take her from him. She was his own, and he ■would hold her untiliife was ended. Then lie owned to himwlf that Mr. Haye was right—cruelly right—that without money, with an invalid father, a falling business, he could not take a wife. It was right to defer it. He must be patient. After all, he had not lost her, he reflected. She was still his own. “Have you got some good news there, Felix?” asked the feeble voice of his father; and the next moment Felix had repressed the emotion so rapidly masterTng him as he crushed the letter in his hand. “ „ "It is only a note from Violet, father, he replied; and the satisfied smile ph his father's face rewarded him. Darcy Lonsdale knew that while A iolet was true to his idolized son nothing else would hurt him. They were alone—father and son—for Kate had gone to the nursery—when the hall-door bell rang. Felix said, cheerfully: “Here Is a visitor.” “Few visitors will come here; we have lost a fortune, not found one,” said Darcy Lonsdale, who had never spoken a cynical word before. It was a visitor, and one whom they were both well content to see. It was Evelyn Lester, with a basket of grapes and delicacies of all kinds for the invalid, and, what was better still, with the light of love and kindness her sweet face, and with words of sympathy on her lips. As Felix saw her bending over his father he half wished for a moment that V iolet had done something like this —had come to see them in their distress. It was a pretty picture —the invalid lying on his couch, -the girl with her sweet face and earnest eyes bending over him, and, watching them at a distance, the handsome son. The fire burned brightly, the lamps were lighted, while outside the north wind wailed mournfully. Evelyn took up a bunch of ripe purple Crapes. “I want to see yon eat some of these,” -she said. “Mrs. Lonsdale told that you ate nothing yesterday.” And taking the. grapes out one by one in her white fingers she held them to his lips. How could he refuse? He was so weak and feeblefi, he had been so completely crushed by cruel words, ttygt the girl’s ■simple kindness moved him. “I have been heart-broken, Eve,” he ■said. “I did not care to get well.” “You will live it down,” she returned, gently; “and those who have doubted you will be the first to feel ashamed of their Injustice.” “You have never doubted me, Eve?” “Oh, never! How could I? I should doubt all the world first.” Then she rose from her chair and knelt down by his side. She took both his bands —such thin, worn hands!—in and held them there. “I came to say something to you, Mr. Lonsdale,” said she; “and now that I am here I have hardly the courage. Promise not to be angry with me.” “I could not be if 1 tried, dear child,” he replied. Her face flushed, and the light deepened in her eyes. “You have" known me all my life,” she said —“have you not? —ever since I came here, a little, friendless child.” “Yes, it is true, Eve.” “And you have always been kind to me. I have come to you in a score of childish troubles, and you were always kind to me. Now I you to let me repay you for all your kindness. She spoke so quickly that he could not interrupt her. “I want to help you. You know that I have money, plenty of money, all lying ■ldle—for I want none, and Aunt Jane will not touch it. Do accept it; let me give it to you. I shall never want it, for I shall never marry. Do take it; you would make me happier than anyone i* the wide world if you would. I am so grieved and so sorry that I would go out and work for you if you would let me. If you will not accept it, borrow it until yon can repay me. Do not refuse me — Jet me help you.” Felix had come nearer to her, listening in wonder to the passionate wtfrds. Mr. Lonsdale drew the fair head down nearer to him. “So you would give me all your fortune, Ere?” There was a glad light in her eyes when «he raised them to his. “I would—double my fortune, if I had It,” she replied. “And why, Eve —tell me why you would be so good to me?” The crimson flush burned her fair face. She knew why, but she could not tell him. “Because I love you all, and you are my dearest friends,” she replied. “My dear Evelyn,” said Darcy Lonsdale —and his voice was broken with emotion—“how shall I thank you?” An expresfdon of perfect rapture came over the face. “You will let me do it?” she cried. “You have made me one of the happiest girls in the world.” The thin hand clasped hers, the sunken «yea looked tenderly into hers. “Will I let you give it to me, my dearcat Eve? No —a thousand times no! It la not for the money I am thanking you, but for the thought, the intention. You. have gladdened my heart, yon have dened my life—you have given me the courage to get better, you have given me hope, r shall be so much better for your scorning.” “But that is not the point!” she cried. *Dear Mr. Lonsdale, do accept the money. Ah, if you knew how little I care for it, and |>ow much I care for you —-if you knew the pleasure it would give ■M, you could not refuse!” He drew the sweet face down to his “My dear Eve, I would rather have this

BY BERTHA N. CLAY

offer made to me than, any other. You have restored some of my self-esteem, child—some of my self-respect.” Evelyn looked up in wonder, for Felix had bent down and kissed her hand. He gazed at the sweet, flushed face with woudi-r. —■ - “Eve,” he said, “you are an angel! 1 shall never forget what you have said and done. I shall never forget that you have given a desponding, almost despairing man, hope.” So the winter passed. Mr. Lonsdale recovered his health but sl.wly. The spring of his life seemed broken; he found living his trouble down more difficult than he had anticipated. He had withdrawn himself from all positions of trust; he gave yp his office as church warden; he would no longer be overseer. “If they could believe, that of me.” he said, “I will held no trust among them.” And he did not. What business was brought to his pffice he did,* but he no ipnger mixed with his fellow-men. So winter wore away.-and genial, lovely spring heralded by snowdrops and crocuses, came to gladden the hearts and souls of men. /

CHAPTER VI. “Sir Owen Chevenix.” The inhabitants of Lilford uttered the name with awe and respect. Those who had never seen Sir Owen made a point of talking about him; while those who had not only seen him, but talked to him, were elevated almost to another sphere. Sir Owen was a ma® of note. He was that much-to-be-envied person, a millionaire, and he had just purchased the finest estate in Loomshire. It was called Garswood Hall, and lay between Lilford and the town of Oldstone. Sir Own had arrived in great state at Garswood. Servants, carriages, .horses, grandeur of ail kinds, had preceded him. Then came the crowning intelligence, he was not married—this millionaire on whom Fortune had lavished her gifts. Maids and matrons took the greatest interest in him, the grandees of the county waited upon him, fashionable mothers offered him advice about his household, about the parties he intended giving, and about the people he must invite, while the squires were much interested in his stable and pack of hounds. “Have you any pretty girls in this part of the world?” he asked, one day of Capt. Hill, the sporting man par excellence of the neighborhood. “I believe so,” he replied—“l -have heard people say 1 so. It is not in my 1 line, you understand.” “Exactly. Well, it is in mine—and a very pleasant lipe I find it. The only thing I dreaded in coming hither was that I should find nothing but rustic beauty of the milkmaid ‘sort. I have a decided distaste for its and the fact of the matter is, I am looking out for a beautiful wife.” “It is a very sensible thing to do,” said Capt. Hill. Sir Owen Chevenix very soon became the great man of the county. He did not like Oldstone, but he did like Lilford; he* had little patience, with the gentry, but he liked the sporting squires. He was so lavish in his orders, so extravagant in his expenditure, that the tradesmen of Lilford looked upon him as an especial gift of Providence, while his coming seemed to have given frosh life to the county. When the month of blossoms care round Sir Owen was quite settled at Garswood. He had won golden opinions by not going up to town for the season. Now that he was a landed proprietor, he declared his intention of remaining on his land. He had already attended one or two meetings of different kinds at Lilford, and he received an invitation from Dr. Hunter, the vicar, to attend the annual festival of the school children, held always in the month of May. He sent a check which caused the good vicar to open his eyes. Then, someone having told him that all the elite of the neighborhood attended the fete, he went. In a field near the vicarage the school children played to their hearts’ content, while in the vicarage grounds the elite enjoyed themselves io quieter fashion.” The military band from Oldstone was there, pretty white tents were erected; there were croquet and lawn tennis, quadrilles for those who liked dancing, and archery for those who enjoyed shooting. Sir Owen Chevenix, having heard that all the pretty girls in the neighborhood would be there, decided on going himself, and they had kept it a secret, intending to surprise their guests. As a matter of course, beautiful Violet Haye was to be there. Evelyn Lester had been invited, and the vicar had discussed with his wife the advisability 'Of sending an invitation to Felix Lonsdale.

“There is a black mark against the whole family,” said the vicar, who forgot at times that his gospel was the gospel of peace, and thought more of justice than of mercy. “I do not say that Darcy Lonsdale was guilty of that which was laid to his charge, but there is a mark against him.” "Against the father, Daniel, but not the son,” corrected his wife. "You plight as well try to distinguish between husband and wife as between father and son,” rejoined the vicar. “There is another thing,” said the diplomatic lady; “we must ask Violet Haye. She is. in truth, the greatest attraction we shall have to offer, and, as they are lovers, I do fidt quite see how they can be parted on such an occasion.” “I shall do it against my will,” remarked the vicar. “Well, that is far better than not doing it at all,” replied Mrs. Hunter. “Ft will be a kind of test; if we see that people seem shy of Felix Lonsdale, #e must not ask him again.” So Felix received an invitation, If he had known how and why it was given to him he would have placed it under his heel and have gone twenty miles in an opposite direction; as it was, it gave him

unbounded pleasure. He was to meet Violet ; he would spend a whole half day with her. The prospect delighted him. He sat up the greater part of tbe night, so that by his unusual holiday business might not suffer.- It seemed to him the time would never come when he would meet Violet. Nor had beautiful Violet Haye been unmindful-of the coming Tete. Her father had looked grave'over the milliner’s bill when it was given to him; bus Violet had determined on being queen of the fete. Mrs. Brtjyvnson, Mrs. Batflders and Miss Stanley would certainly bo there, • perhaps even La'dy Rolfe, and she must be dressed suitably to meet those potentates. : A beautiful costume of white muslin, rich lace and blue ribbons was provided, with a wonderful little hat that seemed to be made of feathers; and Violet decided that she had never looked so well before. She pictured to herself an easy sovereignty. Eve Lester was the only one she feared; hutthen Eve was never given to dross and flirtation. Lovely. laughing May given her fairest Imnrs for the fete; everyone was full of congratulations —the sunshine, the music, everything was, so beautiful. Felix saw nothing but the bright face of his lore. They walked over the smooth, green lawns together; and then Violet, turning suddenly to 4 her lover, said: “Have you heard all the Wonderful s-ories about the newcomer, Sir Owen (’hevenix?” ‘ "I fiad but little time for gossip,” he replied; “still I have heard that lie is wealthy and likes to spend his money freely.” Violet's face had quite a light upon it as she continued: •'People say that his plate is superb, Felix, I should like to eat my dinner off golden plate.” “It would be no better for that, Violet,” he replied, longing with all his heart to be able to make her such a present. “You know the saying about the dish of herbs ?IL__ “Yes, I know it, but I do not believe in it. How wonderful it must be, Felix, to live in such a grand house, to have so much money and so many luxuries!” “I know something that I would rather have than all Sir Owen’s luxuries,” said Felix. “What is it?” she asked, eagerly. “Your love, Violet.” And she knew that he meant what he said. Soon the fete was at its height. From the meadow came the hearty shouts of the children at play. Suddenly there seemed to be a slight commotion among the guests, and Felix saw the vicar standing with a gentleman who was certainly not remarkable for the handsomeness of his personal appearance; but the vicar seemed to be impressed by his presence. Then Captain Hill joined them, and the vicar went away, leaving the two men together. The newcomer, Sir Owen Chevenix, turned to his friend with a smile. “It is not bad,” he said, “but I see nothing that repays me for the trouble of coming.” Cajrtain Hill turned slowly and motioned to the great elm tree, where Violet and her lover stood. “That is the prettiest sight in these grounds,’.’ he remarked; and a curious, light came over the heavy face of Sir Owen Chevenix as he gazed. At the same time some keen, subtle instinct which he could not understand told Captain Hill that he had acted cruelly. “You are right,” agreed Sir Owen Chevnix, looking intently at Violet—“that is by far the prettiest sight in the grounds. Who is that young lady?” “Miss Violet Haye,” replied the captain. An honest impulse prompted him to add: “She is engaged to Felix Lonsdale,” but a subtle sense that such a statement would be displeasing to Sir Owen restrained him. * “Will you introduce me to Miss Haye?” asked the baronet. “It would be better for Mrs. Hunter to do that,” he replied. “I am not one of Miss Haye’s friends.” Sir Owen walked quickly away. There was a look on his face as of earnest purpose when he saw Mrs. Hunter. She listened to his request, and wondered. “Introduce you to Miss Haye?” she said. “Of course I will, with the greatest pleasure.” Then, oddly, some subtle doubt crossed her mind; but she would not think of it for one moment. Sir Owen Chevenix was the great personage of the entertainment, the great attraction of the fete. She must certainly do as requested. Why not? Violet Haye wns a beautiful girl, and it was only reasonable that everyone should admire her. So she walked across the lawn with Sir Owen, 'who was the observed of all observers.

Neither Violet nor her itfver saw the two until Mrs. Hunter spoke. “Miss Haye,” she said, “Sir Owen Chevenix has asked me to introduce him to vou.” Violet’s face flushed hotly—it was sudden, it wa£ such a surprise. This was the rich baronet of whom so short a time before she had been speaking .with such awe and wonder. She bowed, and murmured a few words—she never rememberwhat they were; then, as a matter of course, Mrs. Hunter was compelled to introduce Felix. Sir Owen acknowledged* the introduction by a few careless words. The whole scene occurred in the radiant sunlight, in the midst of blooming flowers and happy faces —yet it was the prelude to a terrible tragedy. “A beautiful day,” said Sir Owen to Violet; “a charming scene, too —quite rural, quite pastoral—the kind of thing 1' like. I hear that we are to have quadrilles. Will you favor me with the first, Miss Haye?” She answered “Yes,” because she did not know how to refuse him. “I had no idea that this kind of thing could be so well managed in a place like Lilford,” said Sir Owen. “It inspires me with an idea—l must really give a fete at Garswood.” “That would be very pleasant,” returned Violet, shyly. “It would if you were there,” thought Sir Owen; “and there you shall be the queen of the fete if I can manage it.” Aloud he said: “Have you seen Garswood. Miss Haye?” “I have been in the park,” replied Violet, “but I have not seen the house.” “There is plenty of room for a fete there. lam -Quite in love with the place myself—it has such fine old trees, such grand oaks and elms, such fems, and all that kind of thing." , Violet wondered whether it were fashionable to be always speaking of “that kipd of thing,” and why it was that the ifcrQnet had such a dearth of ideas.

“Yon will remember you have promised me the first quadrille, Miss Haye. I see Lady Rolfe. I must pay my devoirs to* her,” and with a low bow Sir Owen turned away “What splendid diamonds!” cried Violet. “What a horrible man!” thought^Felix. Violet had been struck, with the gems, Felix had been chiefly impressed by the awkward gait and ungainly carriage. He turned to Violet. (To be continued.)

NEW BUILDING MATERIAL.

Brick of Quartz Sand and Lime Said to Be Superior to the Old. For thousands of years men have been making brick out of clay, and pretty good brick, too. But recently a new kind has come into vpgue. It is composed chiefly of quartz sand, bound together with a small amount of liine. In the process of manufacture the compound is subjected to the’influence of steam at high pressure. When properly made this brick is said to be hard, .water-proof and able to resist the action of acids. A lack of uniformity in the quality has been noticed, however. “Limestone brick,” which are made in cold, wet weather, seem to give l less satisfaction than those produced under other meteorological conditions. But there is now promise" that this difficulty will soon be obviated. A consular report from Germany announces that a chemist, Wilhelm Schwartz, ha's found a way to get good results every time. The secret lies in controlling the amount of moisture admitted to the compound and in maintaining the temperature within certain limits for a time. The former part of the process is managed in a vacuum, so that no dampness can be Imparted by the atmosphere. Herr Schwartz has invented a machine of his own to do the mixing. Much confidence is expressed in the substantial value of the innovation reported.—New York Tribune.

Dangerous Voyage.

Deep-water sailors are apt to view with contempt the seamefi who go on coastwise ships, but these longshoremen are often skillful, and certainly they are exposed to many dangers. A New York exchange describes the voyage of the schooner William Bell from Charleston, S. C., to New London, Cpnn. It foundered at sea in a furious gale, and the captain and five men went down with it. Two seamen, named Lowd and Robinson, kept themselves afloat and found refuge on the roof of the cabin, which had become detached. To this the two men clung until the hurricane had spent its fury. On this novel raft they spent five days and nights, without food or drink and with very little rest, as the waves frequently swept over them. Robinson twice slipped into the water, but each time was rescued by Lowd. In their hunger they ate part of their leather sea-boots, and when picked up by a passing schooner they were on the verge of delirium; but they were rescued in time, and soon recovered.

How They “Coort” in the North.

A Glasgow servant girl went home a few evenings'*ago with her bead wrapped up in a shawl. Her young mistress asked her what ailed her, and was told that she was suffering from a bad attack of toothache, brought on by sitting in the park. “But ypu ought not to sit on such a cold, chilly night as this,” said the mistress. “You should walk at' a spart pace.” \ The girl looked at her a minute as though pitying her ignorance, and then answered: “You canna coort right walking; you must sit doon - !”—London Answers.

Hence His Tears.

Pastor—Well, my good man, how is your wife? Countryman (beginning to sob)—She —she—died last night. Pastor—My dear man, control yourself. Remember at this time the Inexhaustible consolations of Countryman—And she did not even tell me wnere she had hidden the money she has been saving ever since we were married.—New York World.

Safety Elevators.

Elevators have now been rendered safe In case of fall by means of air cushions. An elevator in the Empire Building, New York, was allowed recently to fall twenty stories. The fall of 300 feet did not break eggs lying on a marble slab in the middle of the car nor spill water from a glass.

The Human Brain.

A German biologist has calculated that the human brain contains 300,000,000 nerve cells, 5,000,000 of wlrfch die and are succeeded by new ones every day. At this rate we get an entirely new brain every sixty dass.

Burglar-Proof Glass.

Burglar-proof glass has been Invented by a smart manufacturer. It is made by pouring molten glass over a network of steel wire. It is especially adapted for skylights and jewelers’ windows.

Book Output.

Germany publishes more than twice as many books as France every year, from 20,000 to 25,000 being her annual output to tbe 10,000 of France. We have an Idea that If dogs were allowed to choose their owners, they would all flock at the heels of the boy who goes barefoot. Victory invariably perches on the banner of the man who never lets doubt creep Into his heart. The Japanese as a people have a heathenish way of minding their own business.

CYCLISTS TO GUARD ENGLAND.

Gen. Maurice Evolves a Plan for Use of Wheel in War. All sorts of suggestions have been made from time to time as to the use of the bicycle in war, but up to the present time the wheel has not gone beyond the experimental 'stage in the army. There is a tendency among the officials in the war departments of tbe different countries to ridicule the introduction of the bicycle into military tactics. But now one of England’s noted generals, a man old and experienced in the art of war, comes forward with a

SIR FREDERICK MAURICE.

scheme for the repelling of an invading force from England’s shores, and one of the most Important factors of the plan is the bicycle. The officer who. conceived the scheme of thus utilizing the wheel in war is Gen. Frederick Maurice, commandant of the military arsenal and training ground. Sir Frederick Maurice’s position and his remarkable war record, which began with Ashanti, continued through the Zulu wars, and ended, as active service, with particular lustre in the Sou-

CYCLIST SCOUTS CROSSING A DRIFT IN SOUTH AFRICA.

dan and In Egypt, would be sufficient to center expert as well as public attention In any military plan suggested by tjim. The idea of an unofficial defensive force of armed cyclists came to him through noticing how those of his men who are cyclists overcame what is one of the greatest difficulties of military training in England, the distances lietween the army headquarters and the rifle ranges. These men, he observed, slung their rifles over their shoulders, spun over to Blsley, or even to Brighton from Woolwich, had their practice

BRITISH CYCLE CORPS WHEEL.

and reported back again in wbat seemed him incredible time, and the matter set him a-thinkhig. The ld< a reached a further stage when the general discovered that many cyclist clubs about , Woolwich were In the habit of competing among themselves in rifle shooting as well, taking out arms of their own, traveling to some safe place on the and shooting at targets. His plan, as It stands at present, Is to demonstrate his Idea to tbe public at Brighton, using, however, only the military cyclists, then to try to persuade the various cycle ciube of England to take up rifle shooting, and so eventually branch out until every cyclist In England who will consent is mustered into the service. How best to train them wljl, of course, come afterward. The general is to give a practical demonstration of his plans at Brighton within a short time. He will endeavor to show the special facilities presented by England for the use of a large body of rifle cyclists for defensive purposes. A force of infantry, supposed to be that as an invader fiewly landed at Brighton, will start pn the march toward London, and the duty of ths cyclist force then

will be to act as scouts and pass detailed reports of the enemy’s movements to a mythical force supposed to be gathering in the Interior, to show how obstacles could be placed in his path and natural supplies, such as cattle, etc., could be removed from it; testing to what extent his force could ba surprised and ambushed by well-train-ed corps of rifle cyclists; demonstrating not only how much an Invader could be delayed until an adequate force could be marshaled to meet him, but how swiftly the cyclist army could cope with the ordinarily difficult matters of support, relief and fresh supplies of ammunition.

CARRIED A CANE.

It Kept Him from Leaving and Losing His Umbrella. “You wonder why I always carry a cane except when I am carrying an umbrella,” remarked a well-known Philadelphian the other afternoon. “Well, I don’t mind telling you. It’s all on account of umbrellas.” “Can’t see the connection,” rejoined the friend to whom he was talking. “Don’t suppose you could. But you will when I have explained. You lose an umbrella every once in a while, don’t you? Put it down somewhere and walk off and leave it?” , “Yes, I have had that happen to me frequently.” “Well, I used to, but not since I took to carrying a cane. An acquaintance out in Chicago put me on to the scheme. ‘Get a cane of some kind,’ he said to me one day, ‘and carry it every day and every night that it doesn’t rain. By that means you becomesoaccustomed to having something in your hand you are lost without it. Then, when a rainy day or evening comes and you are compelled to carry an umbrella about with you the benefit comes in. Say you have gone into a restaurant and when you come out the rain has stopped., You walk out into the street without your

umbrella. Presto; after you have taken perhaps a dozen steps you miss something. Your cane-carrylng hand is minus the burden it usually bears. Back go your thoughts to your umbrella and back go your steps to get It. Simple? Of course It is, but the simple things oftentimes prove the most valuable.” With this sage remark the wellknown Philadelphian walked off down the street swinging his bamboo stick with a well-satisfied air.—Philadelphia Inquirer.

“Jericho, All Out!”

This is the cry, according to a tourist’s letter from the east in the Kleine Zeltung, which is now resounding on the sacred banks of the Jordan. On the river where St. John the Baptist once baptized his penitent hearers, a steamboat is now plying with religious pilgrims and gay pleasure-seekers for its passengers. The present passenger steamer is really the second of its kind. About two years ago the intelligent Abbot Pachomius, the head of the monastery of St. John, near Jericho, made an attempt to navigate the Bibildbl stream with a little steamer of his own. The experiment proved so successful that a new passenger steamer, of modest size and power, was placed upon the river last year. It starts regularly from the bridge near JericHo, and steams to the southern end of the Dead Sea.—Glasgow Herald.

Street Through an English Church.

One of the best-known Instances of churches with streets through them Is that of St John the Baptist’s Church in Bristol, England. The church Is sit uated right over the ancient gateway Into the city of Avon, and the towering spire standing high above the neighboring houses and streets is a remarkable sight, as one surveys [t from the roadway below. • ? • ,

Parisian Superstition.

Superstition Is so common In Paris that cards tastefully embellished and containing a list of “hours to be avoided” are extensively sold. Honesty never contributes anything to the whits man’s burden.