Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 11, Number 48, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 28 May 1881 — Page 6

THE MAIL

A PAPER FOR THE PEOPIJE.

MY MARRIAGE.

»T THE AUTHOR OF "PEKKLOPK," ETC.

IThl* story

was

2a.

rin,

began In Hie Mail, April

Back umrlbers

can

be bad

oi neww-

Mentu, or by sending tlve c*nt« for each oOpy to tbe office of Toe Saturday Evening Jfatl.J

CHAPTER XX.

S Keliria Grant doee not trouble me -i much, after all the is very quiet, and spends a great deal of her time in ber own room. She will not go beyond the grounds. think her grief is too keen and m-ent to wake it possible for her to go amongst strangers yet

In a week we have ail settle*! down

Humphrey.to his painting, Felito quiet solitude, and the tableaux occupy nearly all my thoughts and time. The Invitations have gone out we have written to London for tbe dresseH,' and wo are all trying diligently to read up our parts, so that we shall look the cbar-

actors when tbe time come*. Chris takes

upon himself the building and arrangements of the stage, and C'aptaiii l)ela

court is

Htage-manager

Every morning tind* me at Ripley, for we are hupposed to bo preparing for a full-drens rebearaal at wbifh the Misses Blake are to appear, also one or two mild young men belonging to the neighborhood, suitable for the insignificant parts allotted to tbem. There seems tobe a truce between Georgie and Sir Jasper, for there has boen peace between them for fully three days.

Humphrey laughingly declares that he might as well have no wife, as he mm so little of me and every afternoon be comes over to Ripley, either on foot or in the carriage, to take me home. "I will walk home with you, Mrs. darstairs." Captain Delacourt says, on *oneoccasion. "It is a shame to drag •our husband over here every day away from his pictures."

And so, quite innocently, I say to Humphrey one morning, as I peep into his 'atelier' to say good-bye. "Captain Delacourt will bring me* borne so you need not trouble to come over."

Humphrey says nothing he only lays down his brush and mahl-stick and rises to his feet. "Good-bye," 1 say gayly, and nod to Felicia, who raises her eyes and smiles gravely—I often wonder what she is thinking of, sitting so quietly at her •easel, hour after hour. "Good-bye, Humphrey I shall be back for afternoon tea."

I try to slip past him as he stands, tall and silent, blocking up the doorway. "Won't you let me pass?" 1 say, looking up at him laughingly and then back at Felicia, who is sitting with her head lient over her work and a grest white apron over her black dress. "Humphrey!"

Not a wvrd comes from him and, with a half start, I see that only by a strong effort is he keeping himself under control. "I will come down stairs with yen," he Hjiys, gcttiug out the words with difficulty, as if afraid of saying more.

He opens the door wide. I pass out, and he follows, shutting tbe door again: and together we go down the stairs and into the ball. Thoro we pause, and look at each other, I nover dreaming of the Htorm of passion rising and surging in his heart as I stand, gay and cureless, arrayed in velvet and furs, laughing up at liim as he looks at nm. "Why, Humphrey, what is the matter?" "Madgie, I wish you to wait at Ripley till I coine for you this afternoon." 1 gaze at him in astonishment. "Of course, if you wish it. Hut why need you come, when you are so busy at your picture?"

The veins in his temples stand outsuddenly like cords. "liecause I think lam the tlttest escort for my wife.'"

At the tone in his voice I feel the blood rush to niv f«c» but no dawning of Ins real meaning reaches meyet. Only the old grievance recurs to my mind, and I try to set matters straight. "Humphrey, 1 should like you to come but 1 funded that in these short days you like all the light for your picture.'^ "My picture before my wife?" he savs bitterly. "Madgie. subterfuges do not suit you. Oh, child, would to Heaven I had never left you!"

What does ho mean? With a strange shiver I creep a little nearer to him. "Humphrey, what is it? I will stay •t home if you wish, I cannot go and think ull day that you are angiv with me." "Angry with you!" he murmurs, with a quiver* of unutterable tenderness in his voire. "Mv little Madgie, Heaven forgive me if have judged von wrong-

"lld

yon think I did not want to walk

home with you, Humphrey?" my faltering voire breaKs iu and I look up with wet eyes. "Go, my child," he says, and stooping. Ite pressed his lips to my upturned fl*re.

You will coine for me?" I interrogate and, woman-like, get the Insst of the quarrel after all. "Yea, I will eotae," he says, with a strange smile dawning ID his eyes.

The

stage Is complete, the arrangcfor lighting the tableaux are per­

ntenta for

fect. and—oh. triumph of art!—the curtain goes up and down without a hitch. We are at the height of bliss when Humphrey walks in theafternoou and stands suddenly in the midst of us.

I said I would see you home." says Captain Delacourt and his dark eyes look suddenly into mine. "Humphrey wished »o come," I answer earclwwfy, not hooding tbe implied reproach in his tone '"and it will save you the trouble. Captain Delacourt."

Then Humphrey comes up, courteous and pleasant, talking to Georgie, who is chattering away at hiselliow. "Mr. Oarstairs," she says, "you must come to the rehearsal to-morrow night— a full-dress rehearsal. The Makes are to be here. Jack Harpington.and everybody and you are to i* Steer* to my Jaei." will be anything you like," "Madgie lattn," lome in silence. I feel aggrieved—I know not why—and come to the unwise conclnnk»u that Humphrey's visit to America has not improved his temper, or that the advent of Felicia Grant has made him taw tolerant of o»y many faults and fail-

in?he

next day I see him studying with

a grave cxprewion the programme of the tahkaux vivant*. You aw in ererythlng with Cfeptain IVlaroort," be remarks quietly. "How j» that, Madgie?"

"I don't know. He arranged it all," I answer, "and 1 am sure that it does not

Humphrey knits bis brow®, ley* the programme down, and says no more.

He goes with me to the rehearsal in the evening and not for one moment do I dream of the thoughts passing through his mind. In the excitement that follows, the whirl and hurry of dressing for the different characters, I forget a certain grave, foreboding look that seems to be haunting my husband's face, and taking up its nation there.

I think Georgie forgets that she is Elaine and the sad face bent over Sir Lancelot's shield is sorrowful, more from her own thoughts than the love that wore away the "lily maid of Astolat." "I have gone mad I love you Let me die!'.

Her long lashesdroop aud quiver when Sir Jasper, clad in armor from head to foot, looking a veritable Laneelot, stands at ber side.

I can feel nothing but amuement—a wild glee and hilarity at the whole thing aud Amy Robsart laughs in the Karl of Leicester's face, and in the second scene smiles gleefully at the Queen's feet for Elinor Blake, who represents Queen Elizabeth, takes the part in a very fary of indignation (for even the wildest imagination cannot call her hair auburn —red it is undeniably) and Miss Blake is cut to the heart at poor Chris saying ignorantly— "I think you will make a famous Queen Elizabeth."

So I laugh, and answer with a gay smile Leicester's adoring looks. "You must not look like that," he whispers, bending his head and looking every inch a courtier in his rich and

7

costly you feel it more than that!"

dress. "Mrs. Carstairs, cannot

Feel what?" I ask mischievously for the Karl's face is getting distressed. "Feel as Amy must have felt for Leicester," he whispers, and holds my hand! ''Will this do, Chris?" he calfs out. "Madgie," cries Georgie, "you must not laugh And I try to think of Amy Robsart and look grave.

Poor Chris! His comely face is ilushed and his blue eyes are full of trouble. He appears in the next scene, evidently quite "at sea" about his part, and feeling anything but at home in the dress of a Prussian cavalry soldier.

This tableaux is entitled in the programme "Incident of the Franco-Ger-man War," and represents a soldier bidding a touching farewell to bis sweetheart. Mildred Blake, with a fair wig and long plait down her back, takes the part of sobbing Gretchen, and seems nothing loath to precipitate herself into the stalwart anna of Chris. Crimsoning to the roots of his fair hair, Chris takes her hand gingerly and retreats across the stage as she advances, nearly tripping over his steel scabbard in his contusion.

Captain Delacourt calls out laughingly "Steady, Chris and don't stand like a poker "What am I to do?" poor Chris says and his fare upsets all our gravity.

Captain Delacourt comes to the rescue. "I, say, Chris can't you imagine what a fellow must feel when leaving the girl ho cares for and all that

I can't imagine what I have never felt. Will this do?"—standing at attention throe feet at least from Miss Iilake, who looks plaintively up into his-hand-some face.

Miss Blake feels the part," observes Sir Jasper. 'Yon are pleased to be satirical, Sir Jasper," says Georgie and she looks ut him, standing with liei- long hair flowing over her shoulders as she appears as Jael, the wife o^Heber. "Put your heart in your face, Chris," says Captain Delacourt, who is at his wits' end. "Carstairs, could you group them he adds.

Humphrey accordingly advances to the stage, bends Chris's stiff elbow, and places Gretchen close to him, with one iiand over her eyes aftd the other held tightly by the soldier.

Capital! It takes an artist to group a picture!" cried Georgie. "Oh, Chris, you look splendid!" "I feel an awful fool!" he says, and lieats an ignominious retreat.

Miss Blake looks from one to another appealingly. "Did I Took well I felt so frightened."

We all assure her that she looked the part and more, and the rehearsal goes on with unabated riger. "How Bee would to Humphrey and "I think tfiatyoug he answers. "Look answers, srene."

glory in this!" I say ho smiles. lory in it, Madgie," Look—that is a pretty

It is Georgie representing "The Dcl#ourt'sp at aim but brotl

and her brother Hnguenots.

('live Mrs.

Delimi t's propriety having taken fright iM|but brother and sister taking part in siWi a touching srene. Georgie looks very pretty with her hair swept off her face and her dark earnest eyes uplifted.

I see Sir Jasper watching her, and he •nds his contemplation with a short weary sigh. By a clever a application of soapVaptain Delacourt has made away witn his moustache, and his handsome regular features suit the character well. "You did that well, Clive," Sir Jasper says. "The attitude and expression were perfect."

Captain Delacourt laughs. "I was tiring to believe that it was not Georgie," "he answers and suddenly our eyes meet, and something in the expression of his makes my cheeks burn. His dark eyes so plainly tell his meaning that I crimson with*anger. ft all passe* in a second, and then I hear Georgie calling me for "Beauty and the Beast" is the next scene on the programme. The curtain rises on a garden of roses, and the Beast is lying dead, with Beauty kneeling beside him. Humphrey is enveloped in dark woolly skins, and roses lie around. I laugh as I bend over the poor Beast, and the curtain falls.

Captain Delacourt suggested that when It rose again there should be a transformation, and that lie should he the Prinee instead of Humphrey. "For Carstairs is too tall, and princes dont wear beards." "They do in this country," was my rejoinder.

And so my husband stands as the Prince, gloriously attired in ail* aud silver lace and there are wonderful lights and rosy hues that make the stage writable faiiy land. "Beauty got to lore the poor Beast," Humphrey says, with one of his grave sweet smiles, "Remember that, Beauty." "Yes, Beast," I answer and Mrs. Delacourt says this la the prettiest tableau of all.

S

"Felicia, 1 wish you were coming." I am standing dressed in the drawing roam, waiting for the carriage, and I present a strange contrast to Felicia Grant in her black crape. "I am afraid you will be lonely.**

She smiles a little sadly: "I mean to stud v. If 1 am to teach, I must learn and 1 bad better begin my new life at onre."

A bracelet falls from my wrist on to the ground. She picks it up and Hasps it on my arm. and then her sad, sweet eves look np into mine,

I know ho refers to his look and meaning last night. I never forgive impertinence." I answer in an equally low voice, blushing as I speak, and then look up to see Humphrey watching me intently, with a stern nnu

loving expression.

CHAPTER XXI.

My four Maries come flocking in, Georgie as sweet sad Maty Hamilton. And I think there is a similitude, for Georgie is pale and pensive. I know she is thinking of the time when she must stand as Elaine, and never let the world dream that she loves Sir Lancelot rerily and truly as dearly and hopelessly as'the "Lily "Maid." So Mary Hamilton's eyes aro sad with no imaginary sorrow.

It is the first tableau, aud \ve all feel a thrill as the strains of music fall upon our ears and the curtain rises slowly. I know there are rows and rows of people watching us, and I gaze with a fixed smile at Darnley bowing before me in a graceful attitude, his hat held unswervingly in the same position. Tho two minutes soem an eternity then tbe curtain falls. We hear a burst of applause, and the Queen, her Maries, and Darnley feel immensely flattered. "You have brought down the house," Darnley whispers but I doubt if Mary herself was one half as fair."

TERRE HAUTE SATURDAY EVENING MATT,

"Mrs. Carstairs, do you know what your husband said of you "No. Tell me." "That you had the sweetest, most lovable face that was ever given to woman and he spoke the truth." "The sweetness is all in my face then," say, with some bitterness. "Felicia, I should be a happier woman if I had a better heart and a less lovely face.," "Our hearts are what we make them." she whispers softly.

In silence I look at the quiet figure in sombre garments, and wish with a sudden wild longing for the dear old home life, with Bee's companionship to make my happiness. Oh, for the days when I was madcap Madgie, happy and lighthearted, before men told me my face staked

win a child's love! "Our hearts are what we make them," so Felicia Grant says. But I ask myself, is it not rather that they become what they are through the action of others "Why so grave, Madgie?"

Humphrey's voice breaks in upon my reverie ana I say with sudden and well-assumed cheerfulness: •'How do you like my dress?"

I think as I speak what a fine looking man my husband is, and how perfect a gentleman he looks in his evening dress. And in spite of the beard, I find an absolute pleasure in contemplating thegrave rugged face with the gleam of laughter in his eyes. "How do I like your dress? he echos, stepping back a little and gazing more at my face than the dress. "You look like Marguerite to-night."

I am wearing a plain white cashmere dress, with sleeves tight to the wrist and puffed at the shouldfer. It is made high to the throat, with a raff lace and swansdown. Round my neck is a broad gold chain with a locket, and I wear gold bracelets to match. "Do you like it?" I ask, and read the approval in his eyes before he speaks. "I won't say all I think," he returns, smiling. "The dress suits you and you suit the dress. What do you say Felicia?" "I think it is very pretty and very becoming," she answers.

And other people thjjik so besides Humphrey and Felicia. "Madgie, I iieversa^ you look so well! Your dress is lovely!'"Georgie whispers. And everybody is asking if the beautiful Mrs. Carstairs is to be here to-night. I am so glad you are looking your best?"

Captain Delacourt is in a state of wild excitement, and Chris'is at his wits'end. "This dressing up is to much for me," he says piteously. Mrs.*Carstairs will you tell me what I am too do, for I have not any idea, when or where I appear, or anything?" "No humbug, Chris!" calls out Clive.

Captain Delacourt is terribly in earnest to-night, for something has gone wrong with the curtain. When it is up, human ingenuity fails to bring it down again. But Humprey succeeds in putting it right. The lamps are lighted, and the stage is da/zlingly bright.

At the last moment most of the actors are following the example of Chris, and grow nervous suddenly. The three Misses Bluke in a state of excessive nervousness and frantic excitement, seem to think of nothing but rouge ana powder. With their faces plentifully flowered, cheeks reddened, and eyebrows blackened, they are evidently satisfied with their appearance. "Won't you make up your face Mrs. Carstairs?" they ask in a breath, as I stand arrayed as Mary Queen of Scots in black velvet and diamonds with my face as nature made it.

Mrs. Carstairs, is independent of that sortof thing," Georgie says withagleam of mischief in her eyes.

I see the Misses Blake exchange glances and with a laugh, I run down stairs and find Captain I)elacourt waiting impatiently as Darnley. "My Queen!" he says, and bows low before me, his plumed hat in his hand. His rich dress suit the lithe well made figure admirably, and right well and handsome he looks. "Am I forgiven?" he whispers, raising soft and penitent eyes.

And so the tableaux go on. all more or less successful. Chris rendered bold bv despair, conies to the front in a manner that I think surprises himself as much as anyone clM. The Misses Blake flutter and quiver, #nd lay on more powder and rouge at evfery opportunity. "Stop them, for mercy's sake !'f says Captain Delacourt. "There Is no necessity for this tremendous making-np."

Humphrey looks bored and unhappy. Flushed with excitement, I have no time to study his grave looks. But, when the curtain falls on Leicester and Amy Robeart, I find Humprhey waiting for trie at tbe stage door, and ignoring the Earl of Leicester, be takes care of me himself. "Mrs. Carstairs bi tired. I was going to get her a glass of wine," Captain Delacourt says eagerly.

But Humphrey walks past him and gets the wine himself. "When is this mummery to stop?" he asks. "Madgie, there has been too much of it—far too much." "It is nearly over Jnow," I answered cheerfully and we are gotttg to dance afterwards Chris is going to get the room cleared. Shall 1 Keep all the quadrills for you Humphrey?"

Georgie comes hurrying in. "Maagie. you must go and dress. And, Mr. Carstairs, yon oaght to be attiring for the Beast."

BV-and-bv the tableaux are all over, a little group of us are congregated together just before tbe dancing b&rins. "Miss Delacourt, how well you act," lisps Jack Hartringttm. "Yes," cried Mildred Blake, "she looked so like Elaine! Fancy, Mrs. Car«airs, *he had real tears in her eves!"

I feel quite angry at Mildred Blake as I note the pride and distress struggling In poor

Georgie"*

heard every word, and I am glad to see that he has the good feeling to turn away and take no notice.

The next moment the music strikes up. There is a rush and confusion, and a quadrille party is rapidly formed. Two men make their way rapidly in my direction one is Captain Delacourt, the other my husband. They both reach me together. "May I," begins Captain Delacourt. "Madgie, this is our dance," Humphrey says in a quick and determined manner and I lay my hand upon his arm and go with him, but not before I hear a voice whisper in a quick, disappointed tone— ..... "The'n^xt waltz, then, please."

In perfect amity Humphrey and I dance the quadrille. "Beauty and the Beast," Georgie says gaily. "Mr. Carstairs, never was man more maligned." "Beauty and thePrinee," I return, and see my tall grave husband smile suddenly into my mirthful face. "I wonder if I have quite forgotten how to watlz?" he says presently. "Madgie, would you mind trying with me by-and-by?"

I promise to waltz with him as many4 timee as he pleases, and wonder meanwhile why Humphrey has suddenly come ont as a dancer.

Everybody is dancing with much glee, and desperate energy, as people usually do at an impromptu dance which comes with the delight of an unexpected pleasure. To the great joy of the Misses Blake, and indeed all the eligible and ineligible girls present, officers are plentiful to-night and, the men being in the majority, even ugly, uninteresting girls are in demand. "I thought your husband did not go in for fast dances?" Captain Delacourt says. "He has waltzed with you three times. Mrs. Carstairs, I think it is very unfair"—turning his reproachful eyes on me. "Poor Humphrey, he can't dance a bit!" I say, laughing. "But it amuses him." "And our step suits perfectly," Captain Delacourt murmurs, ana then, very abruptly, "I am going away next W66k«^ "Are you?" I answer with cool indifference. "Has your leave of absence come to an end?" "Yes and it is just as well"—speaking shortly, his fingers playing with the tassels of iny fan, and his head bent down. "Why so grave, Leicester?" I ask,

3o not question me about my thoughts, Mrs. Carstairs," he says, his eyes flashing suddenly into mine. "For Heaven's sake, don't look at me with those innocent eyes of yours! You do not know what I am!"

At the unwonted agitation of his voice and manner I become warm and uncomfortable. "I do not understand you," I falter. "Thank Heaven you don't" he returns in a low tone, his face averted. There, Mrs. Carstairs, I haVe broken your fan! I am very sorry!"

Unconsciously he has crushed the poor little white fan iu his grasp. It was Bee's wedding present to me, and I am very sorry that it is broken. Taking it from him, I look sadly at the wreck. "You must allow me to replace it," he whispers. "No," I answer "you could not, for my sister Bee gave this when I was married." "And any relic of that occasion is, I am sure, very precious," he rejoins, and then, more bitterly, "Mrs. Carstairs, you area very good actress no one can tell which is acting and which is reality." "Mrs. Carstairs, may I have the pleasure of this dance?" a voice breaks in suddenly. "Yes," I say,

and

go off gleefully, with

Sir Jasper Vane, glad to get rid of Captain Delacourt for I hate men in queer humors, and he is evidently out of sorts this evening.

Something prompts me to probe Sir Jaspttte little about his feelings towards Georgie. I have noticed that only once has ne danced with her, and yet his steady eyes look frequently in her direction. Georgie is in high spirits again, either real or assumed, talking gaily, with sparkling eyes, that look as if tears had long been strangers there. "I like Geergie Delacourt better every day," I remark. And her face is so pretty—lovely, sometimes. Do you not think so?"

Does bethink of the white arms that clung so pitifully about his neck once? I fancy he does, for his voioe is full of suppressed feeling when he speaks. "Mrs. Carstairs, I know what I thought of her face once, aud also that it is better for me not to think too much about her now."

Long after I think of his words and it seems strange that these two, who care so much for each other still, should be divided, when three words would reconcile them. I am sure it I cared for anyone—which I do not—I would rather live at war with that one person than at peace with anyone else. It seems altaost absurd to see Sir Jasper Vane and Georgie Delacourt both thoroughly miserable, both wretchedly unhappy, and each behaving asifr the other werean object of the utmost indifference.

With girlish impetuosity I speak out my thoughts. "I wish you and Georgie were friends again."

His face is inscrutable. 1 have never met any man who could keep such control over his thoughts. His answer sends thoi blood to my cheeks, and I feel miserably snubbed. "Pardon roe, Mrs. Carstairs, but I do not wish to discuss the subject." A moment later he smiles quite pleasantly. "Shall we have another turn. The room is pretty clear now."

I am biting my lip with vexation, and wishing that 1 had more tact. "I am afraid I have offended you by my plain speaking," says .Sir Jasper, as the clear space becomes suddenly full of gyrating couples, and we retire grace-

"ffo," I answer, stnilingagain "It was my fault. I dont think that 1 shall ever learn the ways of tbe world. Sir Jasper, and know when to say a thing, ana when not." "The way* of the world!" be repeats musingly. "The bondage we are all more or less subservient to! Don't get used to it, Mrs. Carstairs keep fresh and natural while you can." "Is the world unnatural V11 ask, looking at tbe fragments of Bee's poor little fan. "Unnatural Need you ask Is not tbe whole* thing asbam? And tbe hearts of the living men and women arethegreatest shams of all."

It is like one of Georgie's speeches, like one of ber reckless assertions. He strokes bis moustache as be speaks, and bis eyes look suddenly at Georgie her­

self,

face, £ir Jasper baa

standing radiant, with a group of worshippers around. "All shams," he goes on. "None of tbem live up to what they really think."

I have often wondered why, when tbe world goes wrong with people, they should find solace in railing at tbe rest of human nature. When things go well, tbe world, shams and all, fc a good n*ofId enough hot when tbe tide turns,

all the goodness seems to vanish, and they are all hollow,—only tinsel and mockery.

Even Sir Jasper is bitter, and I have heard him condemn the bitter vein in Georgie. ra &

CHAPTER XXII.

It is very dark as Humphrey and I drive home at two in the morning not a star is visible, and the clouds seem to come dewn and reach the earth.

Captain Delacourt escorted me to the carriage, and I cannot forget the look on his face it startled me then, and it startles me still, as we roll on in the quiet darkness, wearied and fatigued, with the sound of dance music and the hum of many voices still ringing in my ears. Leicester's face haunts me as he looked this evening. "Did you enjoy it?" I say to my husband. ^'Weren't tho tableaux pretty, Humphrey?"

I feel a feminine deeire to discuss the whole thing over again, remembering how, when long ago, we girls at homo used to meet in Helen's room, or mine perhaps, and talk over every incident of the evening with a keen delight I can never feel about parties now—the joyous old times when Lena once gave a rosebud to a blushing lieutenant, and kept the rest of the bouquet for ever as a memento. Hew Bee questioned and cross-questioned, and wove a romance on the spot, founded on Lena's poor little rosebud!

To-night I feel the old girlish longing to have a good talk, to discuss everythingand everybody but to my leading questions Humphrey makes little response. "I am glad you enjoyed yourself, my child," and from the tone of his voice, I infer that he did not. "Are you tired?" I ask next, feeling wide awake myself, and in a terrible talkative mood. "Tired? No Madgie, I am thinking how I shall say to you what I have to sav."

What is it Humphrey ?"—turning to him in the darkness with a quick little heart-beat at the gravity of his voice.

His hand gropes about till it reaches mine, and he draws it into the shelter of a strong warm clasp. "I am going to read my child-wife a lecture," he says in a low voice. "You won't be vexed with me, dear?—for I am very much in earnest about this." "But what have I done?" I say, laughing a little, my hand stealing closer into his. "Madgie," he begins in a low toue, and as if the words hurt him, "have you ever thought how very beautiful your faoe is, and that other meu might think so as well as myself—the one sweet little innocent face that I love so dearly "Humphrey?" "Hush, dear! Let me speak. Did you wonder why I danced with you tonight? It was aone with a purpose. I wanted the world to see you and me dancing together. Do you know what people have been saying, dear? They say vou have no love for your husband'!"

My band gives a twitch in his, and his fingers close over it more tightly. "Wait, Madgie. My wife has been to blame innocently, but unwisely. 1 do not say that you meant any harm, dear but it would be as well to see a little less of Captain Delacourt. I was mad tonight to hear them dare to talk about my wiie!" "Humphrey?"

I drew myself up, and feel my face grow crimson in the darkness. "Who talks of me? Who dares couple my name scandalously with Captain Delacourt's?" I ask my husband. "The world, child. Tell me, oh, my darling, that there is no truth in the story I would believe your lips against the whole world." "You believe the world's evidence already," I say bitterly. "Say it is not true?" lie persists, pressing my hand in both of his. "I could bear vou not to care for me, but I could not liear for any other man livingto win your heart."

At his words the whole tide and fullness of his meaning rushes over me in a wave, and my words come in choking

.JO

you mean that I care for Captain Delacourt—I, who am your wifo? Humphrey, is that what you have been thinking of me ?"—snatching away my hand and bursting into a storm of weeping, bitterly humiliated, hurt, stung beyond expression. "My poor little Madgie," he cries, and holds me close to him, "the world will never fail to attribute the worst of motives. Nay, dear, it is not worth such bitter tears."

But the tears rain down my burning cheeks, because this wicked, shameful thing has been said of me. "I wish I had not spoken," says Humphrey. My child this hurts me sorely."

I hide my wet face on his breast. "Humphrey, did you believe it?" I say, feeling a quiver run through him as be answers. "I know that he made love to my wife and I also know that she is an innocent child, and does not understand how little it takes to set the world talking. And now, darling, my lecture is over. Give me your band again, and let there

_We now and always," I whisper, and sigh deeply. Peace, I say, and peace I desire between my husband and myself as long as we both do live. If I could but love this man whose arms tremble even to hold me in their clasp! "It has all gone wrong," I add presently, with childish earnestness. "Humphrey, if you never had seen my face!" "It would have been happier for you perhaps, child," be replies "but for me the happiness is in having you for my own*" "Humphrey," I say, it is not our fault if we do not agree other people will not let us. Yon and I together are quite sometimes, are we not?" am happy if you are content," he answers.

hapjjy

I tell him that I am content, that 1 want nothing, desire nothing now. Is he convinced? I know not.

The next day I come to him in the library and stand behind his chair, my band upon his shoulder— a small brown heedle»M hand, that rests upon hisbtoad shoulder in perfect indifference. He is writing, but lays down his pen as I come in, and raises bis bead to greet me with a smile. "Humphrey, what do you wish me to do about Captain Delacourt?"

I have been planning tbe question an the way down-stairs, and say it like a lesson now, with hot cheeks,

W"ls*i*all

JSP!

rer"fn|"

bering tbe conversation that passed last

He draws me round tUl I face him, and bis eyes scan my features narrowly. "Look at me, Madgie." 1 lift my eyelashes and let my eyes look into his. "What do you think you ought to do yourself?" he asks. "I don't know it Is all the same to me," I answer, and flinch a little from

tbe same to

you,"be

wonder!ngly

Cbntimted on

repeats

to himself. "He is not a

Third Page.

Holmai PAD£

Operate throngh tho Forces and tin Circulation.

mADBMAKK.

Hainan's Ague. Liver and Ntairl Pad. for Malaria, Ague aiul Troubles. Trice, £2.00. Hainan** Special Pad. Ad«|«. old chronic cases. 58.00. Holnna't Spleen Belt FoAcases of cnlarjjed Spleen anil' ui

Liver and Stomach troubles. Sa.00. Hainan'* Infanta' Fade. For at. of Infants and Children. S1. «0.

Holnan'a Abdomlijal I': inc, Ovarian and Bluddor trouble.-. Ho

I man's Renal or Kidney I»a«l| Kidney complaints. $2.00* Hoi man's Pectoral Pad. For of tho Chest and Lungs, jsS.OO. Holnan's Absorptive Medlr

Body Plaster Tho lx*st Plaster n| world. Porous on rubber base Hainan's Absorpllve MfdUf

Foot PlR«t+m. For cold feet. and *luy:ish circulation. (Per jviiri A S a a

Balks. For colds, rheumatism nn| eases where a medicated bwth is, tit also nn excellent foot bftth. (Pei package) 25e.

FOR SALE HY AI.L 1)KUUGIS1 Or sent by mail, postpaid, on receipt or The Absorption Salt is not "mailable,' must be sent by express at purcha-soi pense.

Beware of all bbgus pads only made on the reputation of the genuiue. See that each pad l»oaw the Private 1 nueStamp of the Holman Pud Coni|. with above Trade Mark printed in ucroer!

Dr. Hohnun's advice is true. Full In I sent free on application. Address I HMLNAX PAD '».

P.O. Box 2112. 7"i liroadwu.v, N'.J

/A

7/ERt

A Compound Tincture of the most vc able remedies known to the medl profession, prepared upon strlc pharmaceutical principles.

As «xperieoc« of twenty-five years provm it the aruMMt Antidote to Malaria ud «U ottaer A| influMWM known to the world.

Th« only aWufe rur* for til AlfbctlortM of I Kidney*. In Lhrcr Complaint, Uy*pe»l ulaoraersof tho DowWIb, tad Ml All! tlous of the Throat and Lann, it is £eaefou«, while ft remedy for complainth poc to U» female it has no equal.

NOT A BEVERAGE

Bat ail old reliable Hoanehold Itenu thoroughly adapted to aaaitt nature. It lappuM tone to the utomach, rein?uroraton I digestive organ*, utimulatai tho (eoretioiM. nnd I motinff a regular action of tbe bowels, enablm e« organ at the hod* to perform its allotted work larljr and without interruption.

Ita higheet oommondatHUM oone from those have nsed it longest and known it besi Nowliore so popular ut in lAnoaster, Piv,, whe has bean in use for more than a quarter of a oentul

Highly commended a (ifncral and Ap|N»tueer. Kola ly Druggist*

ovenrw!

THE ME88KN0ER OF HEALTH A largo slued paper descriptive of diwiMO, itn and cure, will be mailed t'roc to any aadri. applloation to

THE MI&HLER HERB BITTERS Lancaster, Pa. I Hr*We strongly reootnnwnd tn mothers Prt, Parker'* Pleuiiant Worm Hyriin. It no Wis, is easy to take, and no aftor-pEgnlo roqu Prioe, 23 cents.

[THE ONLY MEDICIW1

IX EITHER LIQUID Olt DBY FOB! That Act* at the name time on

Intf urn, rax sown in tu Kionrt. I

WHY ARE WE 8ICKI

JBecauM we allow tfute great organs, Ibtcome clogged or torpid, and poltontI shutnortart therefore forced into the bh' I that thouldU expelled naturally,

KIDNEY-WOR"! WILL SURELY CUR

|KIDNEY DI8EA8E8, LIVER COMPLAINT IplLKS, CONSTIPATI0X, UBWA

DISEASES, FEMAI.E WEAKI*ES»E AND NERVOUS DISORDERS,

Iby

causing free action of thete organs restoring their power to throw off disease.

TThjr iwffor Billons p«ln» sad «chesf Why tormented with PI

1M,

Comtipat.

Why frightened over disordered Rldne Why esdsre aer?oo» or tick headachei Use itiNKV-WORTand rejotof in he.

It is put up in Dry Vegetable TTORM, In

«na one package of which makes six quarts

AJko In Uqald Fer*. very C«m« for that readily prepare nrlt with efficiency la either to OCT IT Of TOUR DRUGOIiT. FfciCS, #1. I WELLS, BICHABDWW

|latsfljactsthoseeqsalcannot

C0,,'Pr0pV

I (WUI send tbe dry io»t-patd atMbKlie*,

TUTT'S PILL

INDORSED BY

PHYSICIANS, CLER8YMEH, AM THE AFfllCIED EVERYWHERE. THE GREATEST MEDICA

TRIUMPH OF THE AGE.

8YMPTOM8 OF A,

TORPID LIVER.

Loss

of sppetite,Nausea,bowel*eostire,

PirnTn'theEfoadtW^th tfulTeeniiationTn

iftetfack paft^Painunder

the shoulder-

blade. fairness sfter esMn«, with a dUin clioation to exertion of body or mind, Imtabilitjroftemper,Low spirits.Loss

of memory

with a feeling of having

nefc

feeted aonie aaty, wear!new. Dlzsines^ Plutterlns: of the Heart, Dots before tbe ere*,TeIlow"Bfcin7Headache,1Be*UeaaBess atlalgfilTHghliTcolored Urine. IF Tsnx^W AWTDIOi ARE WHEEDED SERIOUS DISEASES WILL SOON B£ DEVELOPED.

TU I'M FILMtreespeciallyadapted

to

cwb ca*es,4me doae effect* aueliaehange of feeling as to

astonish

the stifTerer.

They iMTreseike Appetite, andkante the body to Take mm rteal». thu« tbe Is •••iIsWf S sn1 by tbrtrTaaleArUeannthe SltnM»» Oiasiis. SwhirWeel. awjw

looed-

Price cent*. SS ftmrmy %!.. N.V.

TUTT'S HAIR DYE.

QUAR lUiaw Warners* changedI toaOtownr Bui** by a sisal* application of ttoW Dyk. It impart* a natural color, acts Ioatsataneoaslr.

Drugfi*t*,cr **iti oo of ft. Office, 35 Murray 8t-, Mew York.

or. trrr*

s*»r*L

'i

MtfcW na4 I rsat ee iffllnUtt#