Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 5, Number 30, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 23 January 1875 — Page 7

£j£ I

THE MAIL

A PAPER FOR THE PEOPLE.

[Written for the Mall.] BERT A'8 WELCOME.

LAURA

Over the river with Jewels rare. Clasping the bands of her gold-brown hair, Ijoviugly watching the Uny bark, Tbftt bcttnt tho@ Nwlft cr the waters uftrk} With feet Just touching the crystal sea, lierta's wal ing and watching for thee.

Over the river when life ih past, The pearly portals reached at last, The cross exchanged fcr the starry CJOWD, Thy sheaves at the Savior's feet laid down, With outstretched bands by the crystal sea, Berta will Joyfully wrlcome thee.

One Too Many.

fcY CHRISTIAN REID.

[Author of-Valerie Aylnier" "Morton Home,'

Rots Beverley'3 Pledge," etc.]

CHAPTER VI.—Continued. During the week of suspense which had passed, Mr. Deverell certainly tbftueht that he had braced liis nerves to bear the worst of Esther French. Yet hew little he had done this, these same nerves told him now. That one hoarse word, the echo of the physicians fiat, burst involuntarily fr»m his lips, but he sot thein firmly alter that. The mighty paog of sharp agony which wrenched bis iieart should be borne in silenoe, even although no effort of will could Hubdue the horrible sense of darkness and desolation which in one second Bottled like a pall over the things of life.

This is very unexpected, very terrible," he said, after a minute, still a little hoarselv. "Where is Miss French? How did she fall into your hands? Good God!" (with a ring of the keenest suffering in his voice) "was there no means by which you have let those who are her lriends know of her illuess before this?"

None," Dr. Wilmot answered, quietly. "Do you think I should have negleotod them if there had been? It is true I might have applied to tho police I did not think of that. In truth, I have thought of little save how to keep death at bay from her since she first came under my care."

And when was that?"

This day a week ago. As I was making my morning round in tho infirmary —with which you are, perhaps, aware that I am connected—one of tno Sisters of Charity who aet as nurses came to ine. 'Doctor,'she said, 'I have a new patient for yon. This morning I went to mass at Ht. Victor's. As I was leaving the church, a man followed me, and directed my attention to a woman who had fallen insensible at the foot of the hhrine of Our Lady. I discovered on approaching hor that it was a mere girl, evidently or gentlo rank, and evidently p.lso, dangerously ill. Finding that no one knew anything about her, 1 decided on having her brought here, our own house being too far away, and now I want you to go and see her. I fear she is very sick.' Of course I went at once —though I knew that Sister Thorcsa's judgment was almost as good as mine— "and you may imagine iny surprise when 1 found that I knew tho patient. "No," as Mr. Deverell made quick gesture, not by name, but simply as the owner of a very charming face which had attracted mo more thau onco on tho street especially on one occasion, when I set tlio brokon paw of hor little dog. She had fainted from exhaustion in the church, I suppose. At least, whon I

I (L

r. wns yf| J||.'

Or«r the river on tbo petti lined shore, Where naiut'sand angels wander o'er. The Jeweled banks, of the cjystal m, Berta's waiting ana watching liar thee.

Over the river where cares all cease. And nMgbt invader the land of peaee, Where weary ones sorever rest Their tired heads, on the Savior braast, By the dimpled waves of the crystal sea, Bane's waiting and watching for thee.

then two Sisters of Charity in their dose blaok robes, with long rosaries •winging at their atdea. finally they reached a door before which Dr. Wilmot paused and tapped. After a moment's delay, it opened, and an6ther mster, with afresh bright face, set in the large white bonnet of the order of 81. Vtoeent dS Paul, appeased. 44

Ah, doctor, I am glad yon bav©-oome,"she said quickly. "Tbe poor child has been very impatient for you. I hope this la Eric whom you have brought?" she added looking at Mr. Beverell.

Let me present Sister Theresa, Mr. Deverell," the doctor said. "You can best explain to her why Eric is not here. As for iua, I must look at my patient."

While Mr. Deverell, to the best of his ability, was doing as he was bid, the doctor entered the room.

44Youcan

Haw

hor, sho was not insensible, but wandering with fever. From that lime until to-day sho has not onco been froo from delirium, although sho has raved very little—too little to give us any clue to her name or friends. This morning, she is clear and sano, though evidently hinkingfast: and when I told her the truth rogardingher condition, she asked mo to come at once to you and request that a certain 'Eric,' of whom she has Mnoken more often than of any ono else, should be brought to hor." "Sho did not send for mc, then?" said Mr, Deverell, quickly.

I fahgv." answered the doctor, with a tact which did him credit, "that she thought you weuld not need to be sent for vmon you once heard of her condition."

Whether alio thought so, or whether it is you have merely been considerate enough to say so, it is nevertheless true,' said Mr. lHvorell, quietly. "I shall sond messenger at ouco for Eric Byrne, and then, if you have no abjection, I will return to "tho infirmary."

Dr. Wilmot making no objection—indeed, the touo of tho speaker left no room for any—a note was accordingly written and \iispatched to Eric, "understand that you are not to stop for a moment until you find Mr. Ilyrne and deliver this mto his own hand*. It a matter of life and death," Mr. Deverell naid to the messenger, who knew bltn well, and therefore was not likely to bo negligent. Then he dashed off another note to Hortense and before the ink had dried on the superscript ion of the latter, he was standing up. buttouing his coat across his cheat. "I am at your service now," he said, briefly, to Dr. Wilmot* And then the two "went out together to where the doctor's carriage was standing before the door.

It was a short drive, and a silent one. Knowing that, let its name be what it might, It was in truth nothing more than a hospital for disease and suffering to which they wore going, Mr. Deverell's heftrt sickened within him as he thought of Esther, the fair, swee maidon who had wined to him too fragile and too dainty for even the ordinary rough placcs of life, thrown by chance into such a spot like some poor viotim of ornel want or object of kindly charity.

It is horrible!" he said, as they reached their destination. Hut Dr. "Wilmot dailled with a little natural pride. People often said that this institution was mare than wife or child to him.

I do not think that yon will find anything repulsive here," he said, "On the contrary, I often flatter myself that it la verv attractive." led the way, and they entered. Certain!v, In the outward aspect of the place, there was nothing repulsive, but much that anyone might well have esteemed attractive. The reception rooms looked spacious and pleasant, the corridors were wide aud lofty, aud the staircases easy and winding. All the arrangements for air and light were perfect even the glimpses through open doors or the chambers or the patients left an impression of brightness and comfort. As they went along, they passed a tew people-a surjreon who a topped Dr. Wilmot, and drawing him aside, said a few words, a man on erutch£8 who smiled and podded brightly,

/,r

come in

too," the Sister said, beckoning to the lawyer, after she nad listened to him for a moment.

When he came in, be thought he had never seen anything rtiore fresh and charming than everything appeared. It was more like a bower than a sick-chamber, with the iun streaming hrightlv through some green j. lant at the window, and the pure little white bed with a stand beside it on which a few fragrant violets were placed. The dark eyes he knew so well smiled a welcome out of the pale, sweet faco as he drew near, and a trans- is6* W parent hand was extended to him.

It is so kind of von to come," Esther said, faintly. "Have you been uneasy about me? I did not mean to stay away so long. It would have been a poor return for all vour goodness to give you so much trouble. I nope you did not think I meant to do it?"

I was sure you never meant to do it," ho answered", touched by the thought lor others which even at this moment seemed her most natural impulse. "I have been terribly uneasy about you," he went on, "and have made every effort to find you, but it never occurred to me for a moment that you had wilfully remained away."

She smiled gratefully. "You are so kind," sho said again. Then, after a moment, sho whispered, "Ana Eric? What did he think?"

Porliaps I had better let Eno speak for himseif," Mr. Deverell answeied, smiling a little sadly. "He will probably bo here iu a lew minutes. You must forgive me that I came before him."

Forgive you?" she repeated, in her faint voice, which still had tbo same old chord of music thrilling through it, and opening the eves which looked larger and darker than ever in thepale, wasted face. "What should I forgive? That vou are far kinder than I deserve? You must not ask me to forgive that. I am so glad, so very glad," she went on, earnestly, "that you did come before Erie. I wantod to speak to you alone." '44 And was that why yon sent to me? he asked, eagerly.

Sho smiled a little. "Did you not know it?" she said, feebly. "I thought vou would." Then she looked piteousiy at Doctor Wilmot. "Can you not give mo something that will help me to talk?" sho asked. "I—I must explain things to him."

Dr. Wilmot's first answer to this appeal was a decided denial but ho seemed to chango his mind almost immediately, for boforeany remonstrance could be uttered, he turned quickly and gave a direction to the Sister, who glided to a table across the room and brought back a spoonful of a dark liquid—something between a cordial and a stimulant— which she gave to Esther. While sh^ was thus engaged, the doctor touched Mr. Deverell on tho shoulder and drew him asido.

It is better to let her say what

her mind than to torment her by forbidding it," he said. "But don't lot her talk more than you can possibly help. I told you an hour ago that she was extremity. Well," as tho other started,

I thought when I went away but there are ono or two slight, very slight symptoms for tho better since my return. Don't hope anything, but don't oxcito her. I am going out now, but I shall bo back in ten or fifteen minutes."

Ho spoke very abruptly, and before the lawyer copJpUEeply turned and left tho room. Then, with the faint gleam of hope which had been given warning

than consoling him, Mr. Deverell wont back to Esther, lying among the white draperies of the bed, whiter than they.

It is not mtich to explain," she whispered, as he came and sat down, bending over her. "Only I am so weak, any talking is difficult to me. What I chiefly want to say is that I did not mean to go away. I want yott to understand that. It was wrong of mo to go out that morning, when I was so ill, but I did not know then how ill I was and I wanted to mail my Iptter to Eric. I was afraid he might think of me what—what Hortense did. Perhaps you may have heard that she was very indignant with me fbr

have'hsftrd It," he sifd. "But, believe int. no one eould be more sony for anything than Hortense Is sorry for her unjust suspicions now."

Is she?" said Esther, gently. "Iam glad aha does not think so badly of ma, though I am sorry she sfmiid be grieved. I have thought since tben that she had seme right to be angry. I took too much for granted. You know IM now do you not? Hortense did not cafe for Eric, after all, and I pained you for nothing. I wanted to tell you thia myself. I wunted to ask you to torglt# me for tho harm I worked. I—I wonder it it isanv excuse that I meant to act for the best?"

You did act for the best," he said, quickly, almost vehemently. "Esther, my darling, whatever aisa you nay think. don*t blame yourself for what you did that night. You acted according to an impulse of self-sacrifice such as does not come to many people, and you have

tour

reward in this, at least, that you nocked the fetters off two people who else might have worn them to their dy-

unlived,vantt its 'best ana sweetest gifts ntasted Whv she said, looking at him with sad pathos in her eyes. "Only because I havo felt—ah, so keenly, so vividly— that I am one too many in the world. I fblt it plainly—as plainly as if it had been a revelation—when I knelt in St. Victor's a week ago. Everything about my life seemed spread before me like a picture, and I saw plainly that I was only a source of trouble and complication to everybody, that I had only brought harm to you, to Hortense ana to Eric, and that if I were only removed, everything would be smooth and clear to each one of you. Now, you know, this was a very terrible thing to realize. And it was because vou were all so kind—more than kind—that 1 felt it so sharply. I did not care about

onlv an object of charity and compassion—but I did care for darkening the lives of those I loved, and making existence more of a complex and bitter thing to them than it would else have seemed. I was in sore and terrible strait, and my last tangible recollection is of praying to God for some refuge—any reiuge, I said—in which I could escape, not from life, for I was not insane enough to ask that, but from the circumstances of life whleh made mo feel (forgive me that I repeat the expression again) so entirely one t»o many in the world. And," she added, sinking the voice which had seemed to gain something like power over the last sentence, "you see that God has hoard me."

Mv poor child," he said, gravely, more "anxious at the moment to quiet her excitement than to do anything else, if God heard your prayer and answeredit as you think, it must have been to show vou how entirely you have been led away by tho foolisn fancies of fevered illness. If you conld know, If you could even imagine, what hours of anxiety your absence has cost more than ono heart during the past week, you would never utter again tho obnoxious phrase which you have twice repeated.

One too many,'" he said, as if with a certain sense of unamused amusement. "You—you of all people! Why, the wry stones over which yoa have trod might laugh at such folly. Surely no one else trod them whose passing away would take so much sunshine out of so many lives."

As mine?" said Esther. Then she smiled a littlp. "You are laughing at me," she said. "But I was in earliest."

And so am I," he said, suddenly, passionatelv—"more in earnest than you would readily believe. God knows I can vouch that to one at least the life out of which you passed would scarcely be worth the having.

You are thinking of Eric." she said, he would gontly. "I know he sorry, my poor toy bat not like that."

was

not

Kle

I?" rfftasked, a sudden adit

light shining over her faco and In her eyee.

Ah, you make me almost happy.

I have thought so much of the useless pais I gave you—regretted it so bitterly. It is good to bear that It waa not pain, after all."

a ton*

And this, Esther, th owe to you. And Hortense and' Eric 7" said Esther, joining her frail, shadowy hands together in the intensity of her eager-

thinking of Eric at all," he

answered, impetuously. "I was thinking of myself, Esther. Is that strange to you he went on, noting tbe wonder which overspread her face. "Ah, my darling, you must hava been blind not to seenow my heart long si nee turned-&> vou—turm even when It was in honor bound t» Hortense. From that mockery of a tie you came like my good angel to release me, Esther and even then my firs thought waa that it left toe free to offer my life to you. I did not believe that yon really loved the man who had valued you lightly. I do not believe it now. But I did not mean to •peak like this so soon. Only when you talk of being nothing to any one, Esther can I fall to tell you that you are everything to me

In tbe passionate excitement of the moment he had fortptten the doctor's warning. It was only when he saw the blood beginning to dome into Esther's

cheeks with quiekebband flow that remembered it. Bat it was too late then. Whether for good or for ill, hit words bad been spoken,

You are very good, BOT tnormared, faintly, grasping as it were at a familiar phrase in the bewilderment whieb had come to her. "But I understand hfff it is," sib# added, alter a moment, With a strangely grave and gentle "You are marry forme, and you fain make me think that compassion is love. But I—I know better. And then,' as he was aboot to apeak, "will yen fopgive me if I say that it doee not matter very much? Theee things seem to have seceded far away froth where I stand, •be ended, simply. ««what I feel may not matter to yon," he said, a little sadly. Bat still you must not think that if IS compassion, or friendship, or kindneeaLoranything else on earth but love. Shall I1give yon one

Froof

of it Will yon believe me when aay that on your recovery you will be forced to choose between Eric Byrne

""^EHoT^said Esther, With a little gasp. "But Eric lovea Hortense."

So flu- from that, he told her in my

YAt"iiL*r.r/~_y.!i

TERRE HAUTE SATURDAY* & i£NTNGrj MAIL.

WANT ME?" ir^sencethat his love for her had been a nere fancy, which died utterly as soon is he was brought face to face with the Tear of losing you. He is moro than willing, he is eager, to lay his heart your feet, Esther and God knows pat I prove the sincerity of my love for lou when I beg you to live for him if lou cannot live for me." 1,4

It—it is impossible," said Esther, more faintly than sho had spoken yet. Whether sho meant to dispute his assertion with regard to Eric, or whether sho meant that it was impossible to live for either of them, it is difficult to say. The words had scarcely passed her lips before an exclamation from Mr. Deverell caused Sister Theresa,- who had been standing by a window at the farther end of the room, to turn quickly, and as one glance at Esther's face made her hasten toward the bed, tho door opened, and Eric Byrne, followed by Dr. Wilmot walked into the room.

myself—about

being

Am I too late? Is she dead?" tho young man asked, turning a startled glanco back to the physician, as he caught a glimpse of the death-pale face lying on the pillows of the bed.

Not quite yet, I believe," answered the doctor, after a moment's pause, during which h§ strode forward and examined the patient's pulse and skin. "Another'explanation' would finish her off, however/' he added, dryly. ou have paid excellent attention to what I told you," he said, looking grimly at Mr. Deverell. "If you haa tried to make short work of*tho case, you could not hhvo set about it better. Now, bo kind enough to take that young gentleman out of the room, and remembof thut unless sho is in the very article of death, there are no more interviews until she is out of danger." "What do you think of her? For God's sake tell mo your opinion of the ease!" Eric said, passionately, to Mr. Deverell, as they found themselves ignominiously ejected from thosick-chaui-ber and walking down the corridor outside.

And it was his honest opinion which the lawyer gave when he said, despairingly, "I think she will die."

Hut notwithstanding this assertion, she did not die. The disease, instead, took ono of those capricious turns which diseases (in the young and naturally healthy) sometimes do take, to the astonishment of physicians ana the confusion of science. A vital power which had hitherto lain, as it were, dormant and unsuspected, seemed to assert itself Irom the hour in which Mr. Deverell was summoned to the bedside of a dying woman, and there made his strange ana totally unexpected declaration of passion. Whether it was this, or his assertion with regard to Eric, which seemed to give new impetus to Esther's forces of life, was not of much importance, siuce the result remained the santo. The doctor who growled deeply at first over iutcrview, began before the efiV

gei noti miif fat» thai„t world—r. .. .• tt^rf «*».* -fc ly laid aside by the touch of a strong hand. "You are everything to me," Mr. Deverell had said, with a passion which seemed to shake her out of herself and the vague, unreal world into which ahe had wandered. It had seemed such an easy solution to all her difficulties, such an easy answer to all problems, to lie passively on her bed of pain, and so drift away from life aud life's weary burden of pain and responsibility. But now all thia waa changed. Seeing how far she was wrong, realizing, aa she now began to do, how much she was to all those whom she bad thought to free from tbe complication of her presence. the natural impulse ot life rose op to second the physician's efforts. "All that liie needs for life" ia aometimes, at least, "possible to will." And so it waa here. The will which had lain passive, inactive—nay, acquiescent—waked sudden.lv to a sense of responsibility ,»od aaaerted ite power.

few days ago the worst symptom was In the mind/' Dr. Wilmot said to |1 r. Deverell. "Now it ia tbe beat. Where she was before merely passive, the patient now seems interested and anxious. I ought to beg your pardon for speaking so sharply the day the Mated. After all, you did her more ood thai her something which motive to live.

MO#

than my drugs or

Sister

Theresa'r

had. her something which gave her

a motive to live," said Mr. Deverell, thinking of what be had said regarding Eric's love.

And so tbe days went on, and by tbe time another week had ran its oonrse Hertense had Insisted on carrying Esther away from the infirmary and kind Sister Theresa, though not away from Dr. Wilmot's arbitrary supervision, and CTtablfahimy her once more in the pleasant, familiar chamber she had quitted more than* fortnight before. »«How nxtch it looks like home I" ahe said, a little wistfully. "Hortense, yon are spoilicgme. What shall I do when

I go away from this pleasant nook for good and all?" "If yon ever go away'for good and all,'" said Hortense, amlling a little, "I hope it will be to some nook enually aa pleasant as this, Esther. Now yon must go to bed at once yen knew fir. Wilmot eaid that, and' here ia Mario reader to put yon there.

to put you

_j»d When may I see EHc asked Esther, Imploringly

If you are very good, the doctor says you may go down to-morr w, but remember it is only in case you are very good end keep very quiet. However, he will be here htamu to aee you, and aay what asuat, ee must not he done."

It waa in consideration of her almost nervona anxiety, nerhape, that the doctor waa extremely pueable the next day, and gave hie conaent very readily to her leaving her chamber for "half an hour in the library," aa Eather herself mildly put it. "Of course, if there Is a lover in the case, it will be much more •K—» half an hour," he said afterward with a shrug, to Miss Ralston. "But unless she talks herself into another fever, It will not be likely to harm her, I

^consequence of this medical view of things, Esther found herself dressed, and making her way in rather a faltering and uncertain manner down to the library, just as dusk began to tremble softly over the city roofei and spiree. The house was very quiet at that time—Mrs. Kalston was at her toilette, and Hortense also in her own room. As Esther paused for a moment, and leaning over the carved balustrade, looked down at the lower hall, she did not even hear tbe echo of a servant's footfall along the silent corridors. When she opened the library door, she found that duak had gathered a little more deeply here than elsewhere. The heavily-curtained Windows admitted very little even of such light as there was, though tbe rosy glow of the coal fire made amends for the withdrawal of the waning day. Its soft radiance seemed to meet her like the smile of a genial face, despite the fact that It strove vainly to pierce tho shadows, which, having fled to the many nooks and oorners, sullenly refused to be dislodged. The whole aspect of the room was so charming that Esther, ever susceptible to outward influences, felt involuntarily brightened and cheered as she crossed the floor. But when she reached the hearth rug, a surprise was in store for her. From the depths of a large chair a well-known figure rose and extended its band.

Miss French, I am very glad to see you," Mr. Djve.el s^id, in his familiar voice, with uis peculiarly quiet and unembarassed manner.

There

is a great deal of magnetism in

manner, for, taken by surprise as she was, his tone at once set Esther at her ease. Although she had not met him before since tho day at the infirmary when ho had spoken such words of unexpected tenderness, she found herself shaking bands with him in the old fashion and answering his inquiries about her health with little besides a trembling chord in her voice to betray remembrance.

44Yes,

was saying, somewhat nervously, as she sank into a deep chair ho drew forward. '•The doctor was very good to-day—ho said I might come down this evening. I amafraial tormented him, however I was so arxious to see Eric."

Then she stopped short, conscious that this did not seem very gracious. But before she could apologize, Mr. Deverell had answered in the same tone— thoroughly commonplace, yet thoroughly cordial also—in which he had spoken first

44Have

Then there was a silence for a minute. The softly flickering firelight rose and fell manv times over Esther's graceful profile and bent head, over the bronzes, tbe busts and the books, before Mr. Deverell, standing before hor and loaning against the end of tho mantel, spoke again

You are looking better than when I saw you laat," he said then and something—a slight softening as it were—in his voice made her lilt her dark eyesautl glance at him. "I ought to look better, ought I not?" sho asked, smiling a little. "Should I not be the most ungrateful person in the world if I did not. In consideration of the many shortcomings of appeaarance which are still visible, however, you you must remember that it is only ten days since 1 sent for you to make my last dying will and testament."

You have managed to do very well in those ton days, I think," he said smiling too.

Then there was a silence again. It is rather difficult to keep up a conversation a bare exchange of commonplaces, ither found and Mr. Deverell. who jgbt have come to her rescue with the [perior tact and ease of worldly knowlige, seemed little disposed to exert rnself. In truth, he was wrestling

Ith a sudden temptation which had me to him to pnt hia fate once more tbo touch, even although Esther came ,wn merely "to see Eric." Suroly „jen the worst fa certainly better than such auspense. be waa thinking, when Esther herself looked up and spoke:

Do you know that being here in the library with you, Mr. Deverell, reminds me of the last time we were here together? and remembering bow kind you were to me them, I hope yon will forgive me If I venture to touch again noon the subject which we then discussed."

There ia nothing you coflld choose to do that I should not easily forgive you," he said, "But why ia it neceaanry to reopen that subject Haa not all, been said that could be said "No," she answered quietly, "there ia something still left to say, and it is thai: you have been very generous and nnselftah heretofore, Mr. Deverell will yotf not be generous and unselfish fctill, and help mc to bring together two people who sincerely love each other, but wTxo are kept apart by 1 know not what of pride and misunderstanding

Don't rate my generosity and unselfishness too high," said Mr. Dever-

my power butjfesh and blood are only flesh and blood, after all, and I should be glad if leould serve you without also serving him." "Serve me?" repeated Eather in astonishment. "But I waa not speaking of myself. It waa Hortense whom 1 meant."

Hortense V1 be repeated, inturnaatoniihed. "But how can I serve Hortense in the way you mention 4, "Yoa can861*6 her." the girl said earnittly, "because, although ahe told both yon and me that she did not care for Eric ahe was deceived by pride and anger, and she knows now, aa well as I ktrew then, that she does care for him. Dont think that ahe baa told me so," she went on quickly "but I have watched her cloeely, and I am sure, oh, perfectly mure Of it. Hortense is very proud

but ahe has betrayed herself more than onoe, ee that even 1 understand her." "Since she haa done aev" he aaid, "I may tell you that it haa been very clear to me ainoe the night you Aret opened my eyea. But you forget that there is aame one beaidea Hortense to be considered. You foiget that Eric Byrne declared in this very room and in my presence that it was you alone that he ever eared for."

Esther smiled a little sadly, and shook her pretty graceful head. "I know Eric," ahe said. "I know bow impulsive and generous he is. He thought that when he aaid it, but it is not true. A hundred things I can put together now tell me how lone aud how well he haa loved Hortense. He would have willingly—nay, I think he would crifice hin himself to me, if I would let him. But I shall never do "Perhapa you will think diflerentlv when he comes to plead his causo," said Mr. Deverell.

Although a flush came over lier face whleh waa not ail of the firelight, Esther still shook her head.

Nothing he could say would change my resolution," she answered, in her soft, plaintive voice. "That is fixed. I —I hope to bring Hortense and himself together." Then with one of tbe sudden tender impulses which made more than half her charm, she held out her hand. "Yon must help me to doso," she said.

What Mr. Deverell replied as he took that slender hand and looked down into the sweet face, smiling with an April flicker of brightness it is scarcelv possible to tell. For once he was thrown so far out of the range of his usual conventionalities that, man of tho word though he was, he had not even a convenient commonplace behind which to shelter his emotion. It was only after several moments had passed that he was able to speak with anything like bis usual manner.

Esther," he said then, gravely and quietly enough, though a thrill of passion was vibrating through his voice,

I said that if God spared you, it would be necessary for you to choose between Eric Byrne and myself? Esther, you must make the choice now."

441—how

I am almost well again," she

you not seeu Mr. Byrne yet?

Of course, then, you must be very anxious to meet him. Has ho come? Am I detaining you from him Don't let me do so."

Ho has not come yet," Esther said. "He" will be shown up when he docs come. William knows that'I am in the library."

German scientists have been lately comparing their observations regarding the nourishment of very small children. They unite in condemning the soups and various other substitutes for milk which have been of late years introduced among which are Lieblg's soup, Nestle's infants' meal and Ilartenstein's Leguminose. The stomachs of' new born children are ill-adapted for the digestion of soups and gruels. Nestle's meal, an alimentaiy compound which has been very favorably spoken of in Germany, is said to make the children plump and fat, but does not contribute to the physleal development of the child. It's use jf they strongly disapprove. "Cows milk is the best substitute far nurses' milk that is known. The use of condensed milk containing sugar they countenance it is advisable to dilute it at first with eighteen parts of water, and afterwards with fourteen parts and twelve parts.

Until their fourth or fifth month condonsed milk is found to agree with infants. After that period its continued use is said to produce poverty of the blood and catarrh of the stomach. After that point tbe Leibing soup is approved aa an excellent nutritive substance for children. The surest criterion of proper nurture of a babe is its increase in weight. Tbe usual weight of a nowborn Infant Is from six to nine pounds, Mid the daily increment under natural conditions, should be about one ounce, j.i-st vV C"

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can I?" said Esther, con

scious that her heart gave one great leap into her throat. "There is no choice possible," she went on, relinc

vain attempt to reclaim tho hand he held, and breaking into a low, soft laugh. "For all his magnanimous resolutions,J1 donbt if Eric would havo me and you —oh, Mr. Deverell, it cannot be that}ou really want me "Can it not be?" said Mr. Deverell and now he did not veil the passion in his voice. "Ah, my Esther, I have wanted you so wearily that I never dared hope for a moment that you would ever come to me. Things for which we have keenly longed raroly do, you know. Esther, my darling, is it true? Have you indeed come to me at last?"

If you arc quite suro you waut me,.''„ said Estherf humbly.

THE JSf UJBSEJl Y.

When a child's ear becomes painful, everything should be done to soothe it, and all strong, irritating applications should be avoided. Pieces of hot onion or fig should not be put in but warm flannels should be applied, with poppy fomentation, if the pain does not soon subside. How much children suffer from their ears—unpitied, beause unknown—it would probably wring tho hearts of those who love them suddenly to discover. It is often very hard, oven for medical men, to ascertain that the cause of a young child's distress is seated in the ear, and frequently a sudden discbarge from it, with a cessation of pain, reveals the secret of a mysterious attack, which has really been inflammation ol' the drum. The watchfulness of the parent, however, would probably suffice to detect the causo of suffering, if directed to this point, as well as to others. If If children cry habitually whon their ears are washed, that should not be neglected there Is, most likely, some cause of pain. Many meinbranos re destroyed from discharges which take place during "teething." Whenever there is a discharge from tho ear, it would be well to pour in warm water night and morning, and so at least try to keep it clean.

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