Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 14, Number 6, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 4 August 1883 — Page 6

THE MAIL

A PAPER FOR THE PEOPLE.

THREE PRAYERS.

Beneath a cross, beyond the town, Before a shrine for sorrows made, Three simple maidens knelt them down.

And from their hearts devoutly prayd.

One dreaming of created things— The purple sea, the perfect sky. Bright, happy bird* with Panted wings,

Glad buos that bloom before they die. The waving woods—the soented air. Clang to her heart, and through her sighs Wan heard the gentle maiden** prayer: "Oh give me beauty for my prise J"

A hidden furnace seemed to glow Within the second maidenf* breast. She heard the stirring trumpet blow

She saw the warrior* plume and crest Ambition dazzled In her eye* That life** reward—a deathless name. Then from her heart came stifled "If I may live, oh! give me fameP

The third fair maiden knelt apart Her eye*—a heaven starr'd with team, Her white arms folded on her heart,

She faced a mystery of yea™A midden rapture seemed to lift Her very KOUI to heaven above "Be mine." shelpray d, "tbte priceless gift.

Let me oe loved by one I love!

Her Mother's Sin

BY THE AUTHOR OF

"DoraThome,""Lady

Damer'* Secret,"

"The Shadow of a sin," "Love for a Day," etc.

CHAPTER VII.

"CALM, NOBLE AND STATELY." No. 00 Park lane was essentially one of those houses that give an impression, no one knows quite why, of limitec means and "keeping up appearances." The sorvants Uved on board wages, and there were no perquisites. Lady Rye ford was an accomplished housekeeper her servants respected her the more that every loaf of bread had to be accounted for. There was not only no waste, but there was no chance of waste. To make six hundred pounds per annum do the work of two thousand pounds was the end and aim of her ambition to bide the fallen state of ber fortunes from the gay world was her chief study.

No. 00 was a small bouse, but it bad boen furnished in the most exquisite taste by the late Sir Alton. There was a handsome drawing-room, all blue and gold, opening into a conservatory, which had been Lady Ryeford's pride. Perhaps no room in London was furnished with greater luxury, or in better taste— "at shrine for beauty" some of Lady Ryeford's friends had called it. Sir Alum had also purchased some very fine plate—and Lady Ryeford was one of those peculiar people who would rather oat cold mutton off silver that the greatest delicacies off china.

Before Lord Cradoc called there had been a very characteristic scene in the bijou residence in Park lane. Lady Ryeford, before sho left her room, rang her bell and sent for her daughter. She had an open letter in her hand. "Irene," she said, when the girl appeared, "I hope you are going to listen to me. I give you good advice very often, but you neglect it."

A look, half defiant, half contemptuous, came Into the dark eyes. Lot me hear what you wish, mamma I will try to please you." "You have never heard trie boast of my family, Irene, although your poor father knew all about them." "About whom, mamma?" "About ray family. He knew,for instance, that I was related to the Hydes, and distantly related to the Cradocs, one of the oldest families in England," and here the lady paused, overcome by her thoughts. "Well, mamma?" said Irene, resignedly. "I married beneath me, there is no doubt," continued Lady Ryeford. the whlto lace fluttering at her throat "but I shall regain my place in society now The Karl of Cradoc has written to me."

Sho did not add that she had almost forgotten the fact that she was related to Lord Cradoc, and that In past years, beyond enabling her to boast to a few inttmate friends, the knowledge of the relationship had been useless to her. Sir Alton Ryeford did uot care to hear of the Cradocs his "set" was quite different from the earl's, and he was disluelln«l to speak of a relationship to those who, in their turn, would never acknowledge him. "l/ord Cradoc has written tome," repeated her ladyship: *'and I need hardly say what extreme pleasure his letter has given me." "No doubt, mamma," said her daughter, dryly. ••I do not like satire, my dear Irene. Pray remember that. What I wish to say to you is this. Do you remember reading some three months since of the wreck of the Princess Maud?'" "Yea, 1 remember something of it, mamma—not much." "UulessI am mistaken—and I most sincerely trust I am—the earl lost two sons in the wreck. How can we find out whether such is the fact?" "We have the Times filed,mamma you forget that YOU wished me always to keep them."

Yes, certainly they are so useful for reference. Go tiown now, Irene, and look for me. 1 think it is nearly three months since."

Obediently enough Irene Ryeford went to the little room that Sir Alton had used as a stody. There she looked patiently through the papers until she found what she sought, and then she returned with it to Lady Ryeford. ••You ars right, mamma. Here to a full account of the wreck. The earl lost both his sons, Alaric and Albert. What a dreadful calamity!"

Lady Ryeford was all attention. "Does it say anything about tbe Succeesion, Irene? Give me tbe paper." She read the paragraph eagerly. "No, there to not one word. What a dreadful thing it seems—both sons lost in soda a terrible fashion! Of couree there may be an heir somewhere or tbe earl may marry again. He to not what one would toidm why be has looked u» up in this very friendly tab

call an man. I wonder Ion?" And Lady Ryeford paused for a few minutes to collect her thoughts, and to wonder If any rumor of ber charms and fascinations could have reached him. "One tbing must be attended to at ooos,lreoe,Mshe saidand understand that I apeak Imperative!v. We most have two complete mourning outfits." "What nonsense, mamma!" cried Irene. "Why shoaki we wear mourning for people we have neret seen Wedtd sot even know that tbenr were related to us and tbey have been dead three months." "My deer Irene, I know beet what Is doe to tbe earl** position. He will be only too ready to apptedefe oompMnaent. Henrietta most go at oaee." "Where, and what fer, maimaf**

rv*

-i

"To Jay's. Tbey dieasee suitable for every kind of affliction. Ours must be mitigated—no crape. Reiv upon it, the earl will be pleesea with wnat is a very delicate attention. "Why should yon aeek to please a man wbohas lived thegweter part of his life without bestowing a thought

U^wfen?you

are a little older and a

little wiser, you will not ask audi foolish queetions. Now remember, when the earl be must find you looking your best, in our most amiable mood, and dressed in slight mourning, Let me have no more trouble about H. "Mamma/' asked the girl, with dangerous gleam in her dark eyes, "will there ever come a time when we shall live without playing* part? We are always pretending. Why can we not be as natural as other people are?"

Lady Ryeford's face darkened. She was ill-pleased when her daughter's conversation tcok this turn. "I have no leisure for argument now Irene, and there is no time to lose. Soo Henrietta at once I would not have the earl find us in ordinary morning attire for the whole world. Order slight

mourning—black,

with delicate shades

of relief Henrietta will know exactly what I mean." There was no more to be said. Irene went to obey a command for which she felt tbe greatest contempt, and Lady Ryeford felt lighter of heart than she had for many years.

Lady Ryeford was one of those women who abominate poverty. She liked magnificent houses, carpets of velvet pile, hot-house flowers, fine horses, luxurious carriages she liked plenty of wellmannered servants, detesting the trouble of doing even the smallest thing for herself she enjoyed choice wines, costly dishes, elegant dresses, she liked plenty of society she reveled in the incense and applause that the world offers only to those who have money, having long since come to the conclusion that the Dest thing on earth was money. Love, honor, integrity, fame, were all good in their way. if accompanied by money—but not otherwise.

Till within a short period of her husband's death Lady Ryeford had enjoyed the advantages of a large fortune she bad not been compelled to ask the cost of any luxury on which she had fixed her heart her purse was always full, her credit unlimited. But since his ruin and death it had been otherwise. Still she had resolved to keep up appearances —and people little knew how plainly the handsome mother and how her beautiful daughter lived or how poorly they flared. No one who saw them elegantly dressed guessed how many hours they spent with their mkid, stitching—stitching until both body and mind were weary no one who saw them bright and smiling could have imagined what they bore or what privations they suffered in order to make a brave show to the world.

To Lady Ryeford, however, her lot was detestable. She drank thin claret, and longed for choice champagnes Bhe drove in a hired brougham, and longed for a carriage of her oyjn she wore dressesthat were turned and died, longing for choice materials of the latest fashion she was compelled to think again and again how many shillings made a sovereign before ube spent one—all of which was unutterably hateful to her. She bad thought that she might perhaps captivate some wealthy city magnate but, handsome as she was, and well fitted to be the mistress of a fine establishment, all her schemes had hitherto failed.

Irene differed greatly from her mother. She was wholly truthful. She hated everything that was false, mean or artificial. Had she been consulted, they would have lived on their income, and in just such a position as that income warranted but that was the last thine Lady Ryeford could have tolerated, and there was nothing for Irene but submission.

Lord Cradocentertanied some little feeling of curiosity as be was ushered into the entrance hall and taken thence to the pretty artistic drawing-room. What would she be like, this other girl who

Daphne,

she might have a charm of her own. He hardly liked to own to himself how bis heart beat and his pulses thrilled.

The footman announced the Eari of Cradoc. Entering the room in which poor Sir Alton had taken such pride, he saw before him a tall handsome woman ght mourning, who held out to him a white hand glittering with ry sweet ana well-modula-ted" voice said, in the most gentle accents "Lord Cradoc! How pleased I am to see you 1"

She was certalnlv a handsome woman, with a fair face aiid fair hair, pleasant, graceful, well-bred yet her manner conveyed to the earl—he could scarcely tell how—the impression that he was false.

They exchanged a few words of courteous greeting, and then Lady Ryeford, turning to her daughter, took her by the band.

This is my daughter. Irene. Lord Cradoc," she said, watching with eager eyes the impression that Irene made upon him.

She was quite unlike Daphne, having a dark loveliness that made the hearts of men beet faster as they gased upon her. No one would have dreamed that she was descended from the blue-eyed, fairbailed Cradocs. For she bad all the brilliant coloring of the daughters of sunny Spain, dark eyes with long dark lashes, an oval face beautiful in contour, with a mouth perfect in its lines—not like Daphne's, sweet and sensitive, but regal in its smileeuor in its scorn.

Though unlike Daphne, she was even more lovely in her particular style. Lord Cradoc thought. Was this tbe rut Oountees

tught. was this tbe future Cradoc If eo, sbe would

be indeed, a queenly one. He bowed before her with a deference that he bad not shown to Daphne but bis heart did not warm to ber tbe same fashion.

Irene said nothing sbe simply bowed to tbe earl—for there was little need for any one to talk when Lady Ryeford was present. Tbe elder woman saw that tbe earl's attention was riveted at once by tbe alight mourning his eyes aongbt bar faoe instinctively. "My first words should rather have been of condolence than of welcome," sbe said. "What a terrible blow for yon! Irene end 1 were distressed to read tbe sad intelligence."

And tbe astute woman of tbe world knew by tbe softened expression of tbe earl Hi face that ebe bad said the right thing. Then ebe placed comfortable chair far him.

Be looked earnestly at Irene. During all this title Irene bad not spoken, bat set looking through the window, as though th? scene baa no interest for ber. He tboupb: what a troe, noble faoe ben was. Yet there wee eontethlng hi it that be bad not read in D*phneV-be coukl no*, tetl what, whether it mm pleasure «r pain, fight or ahadow, la Daphne* Mue eres lay tbe light of heaven and «f happy chfidbood tn Irene's dark mm lay tint towbteb he oonld give nn name—"tbe light thai shone land or as*." As be jra&cbed Iter, his Interest In ber increased.

n*

•1 ^8 iife

i««t be her. He-laid one band gently on here. "My dear," be said, "have you no welcome for me

A deep rose flush covered her face she looked at him with tears in her dark eyes. -1 "I bq your pardon, Lord Cradoc," she Baid. welcome. "I do not wish to win sympathy under false pretences," he remarked, "but tbe light and music being gone from my own home, I am trying to borrow some from others." "I was grieved to read the story of your loss," she said "but it must console you(tipt your boys died so bravely." "It does console me," be replied. "I should not have liked them to go down with a coward's cry on their lips."

"Yes oertainly,

I

do bid you

Her face seemed in a moment to have caught tbe light from his. "No," she said "it is better to die a brave death than live ashamed life."

Lady Ryeford ctfme glittering toward them. My dearest Irene," she said languidly. "Whatcan you know of such things? Ashamed life is as a sealed book toy ou.' "Is it, mamma?"

Lady Ryeford hastened to continue, fearing her daughter might say something that it would be impossible to smile or gloss over. "Irene nas strange notions, Lord Cradoc," she said. "I often tell her that she is a feminine Don Quixote. Sbe ruos a tilt at all kinds of imaginary enemies."

The earl did not altogether dislike tbe character given to her. His heart warmed to her when she looked at him with a bright smile and said: "My likes and dislikes are rather too pronounced for mamma. She likes a dead level of amiable opinion, and I do not." "You have ideas and opinions of yonr own," remarked the earl, smiling in his turn, and Lady Ryeford was well-pleased to find them getting on so well together.

Tbe girl's quick, passionate impulsiveness pleased the earl. He liked' the gleam of the dark eyes, the proud fashion in which she carried herself, the quick flash of satire, and the graceful imperiousness of .her manner. Her charm was not the charm of girlhood, such as had made Daphne seem so fair to him it was the subtle fascination of a beautiful woman. He turned suddenly to Lady Ryeford. "Your daughter does not resemble the Cradocs," he said. "They are all fair she is dark." "Yes I have more of the Cradoc characteristics than Irene possesses," answered Lady Ryeford. "I am like my father," said Irene, simply. "He was was tall and dark."

Lady Ryeford looked distressed. Sbe certainly did not wish details of the late Sir Alton's family to be brought to light, especially inthe presence of her aristocratic kinsman.

The earl grew more and more interested in Irene. He saw that she had great originality of character, and that she was beautiful' enough to win the hardest, coldest of hearts. Then he told them of his journey to Nortbfleld, of the old manor house, of the solitary artist with but one idea.

I want you to know Daphne Eriecote," he said to Irene. ^'She is going to ind the Autumn at foole with Lady [y if Lady Ryeford and yon will

spei Ma lighted join us."

rcia Hyde and myself. I shall be de-

Lady Ryeford's face beamed with delight. In the most ambitious dream of ber life she bad never thought of going to Poole, which had been in her eyes liko some palatial royal residence. "You are very kind," said kind,' are very gently. "What does mamma sa '•I say," responded Lady bat it piest moment of m.

TBRKB HAUTE SATOKBAY WWI^G'MATL

Irene,

ay?" Ryeford,

that it' will be the proudest and hapIV life." Then Lady Ryeford became very interested in Lady Marcia Hyde. But the earl did not tell the story of her dream here as he had at Nortbfleld he felt that they would neither understand nor sympathize. "Of what are you thinking so deeply?" he asked, as Irene's dark eyes rested on him. "I was thinking,"she replied,"of what you have said about Daphne Erlecote. You hope I shall like her do you think she will like me?" "Yes," said the earl, boldly "that I do, most decidedly." "I am not greatly interested in pictures." confessed Irene. "Music is the one thing for which I care." "You will doubtless like each other all the better from having different tastes," he said.

And then, after accepting an invitation to dinner for the next day, Lord Cradoc went away delighted and bewildered. How good it was of them to go into mourning for his sons! He felt grateful, as though a favor bad been conferred him arda Hy letter she received the next day. "I have seen Irene Ryeford," wrote the earl. "She is one of the most strikingly handsome women I have ever beheld—stately and gracious, with a dark faoe indicative of passion and strength. You will be delighted with her. She will meet Daphne in a fortnight's time. Lady Ryeford comes with her but sbe is

upon Lady Marcia H^rde was puzzled by the

Sde—harmless,

uite commonplace by her daughter's inoffeni' you ladies call 'fussy.'

inoffensive, and" what Irene is calm,

noble and stately." "I wonder," thought kindly Lady Marcia as she read, "if my brother-in-law to really a good judge of character or not?"

And in tbe after time sbe recalled ber doubte on the matter. CHAPTER VIII "OOTT FOTUNK IS MADB."

Lord Cradoc did not remain in town eo long as be bad anticipated. There was not tbe charm of novelty such as be bad found at North field, while Irene was most dignified and agreeable, she bad not tbe bright, happy character of Daphne. He was doubtful about Lady Ryeford. With all bar suavity and sweetness of manner, there seemed to him a false ring about ber.

She was most genial and oourteona, kind and hospitable be reproached himself for his distrust of ber but he could not overcome it. It seemed to him that Lady Ryeford was modi more pleased with tbe invitation to Poole than Irene. Tbe mother spoke of it continually, tbe daughter never.

Tbe earl was somewhat Irene ebe was an enigma to him. sew that I*dv Ryeford, while passionately fond of her daughter, yet stood in some Utile awe of ber. lo have understood Irene be would bare had to be acquainted with ber history from childhood—bow, with an innate krve of troth and honesty and a deep hatred of all ess and meannesa, during tbe greater part of ber life tbe bad lived in an atmosphere of deceit. Sbe bad in order to ken np apto degrading nW dooble^leahng. doyov speak as you do, rosmknow that it is not true?" ay.

sloop

•M

appearances we are ruined," Lady Ryeford would answer. "Then let us be ruined but let us, at least, be honest. This absurd farce of always pretending to be what we are not degrades us in tbe end. You cannot alter the fact that our drcumstanoess have been straightened since papa's death." "You need not insult me, Irene, by speaking of my poverty to my face. It is my mtofortune, not my fault." "1 see nothing in it of which to be ashamed." "You do not undrstand tbe world,"

it is likely to make me untruthful and felse," So. mother and daughter talked and argued unceasingly, Lady Ryeford in despair, Irene trying in vain to convince ber mother how contemptible subterfuges were.

The season over, Lady Ryeford, who could not afford to leave town, would shut herself and her daughter in the back rooms. But, when afterward she talked enthusiastically of her visit to Cowes or Ryde, Irene would sit with a face so uncompromising that Lady Ryeford felt her efforts were almost vain. If she had been simply weak or vain, she might have borne such conduct better, but she was ambitious. Her plans ana maneuvers were all arranged with a view to her own self-aggrandizement. What she suffered when wealth failed could only be guessed from the vigorous efforts sbe made to keep from the world the real knowledge of her affairs. Her one great source of comfort was the growing loveliness and exquisite grace of her daughter. She knew that in the world no of heart or mind atoned for a

Jrene's

lain face, and she built all her hopes on making an excellent match. She denied herself almost the necessaries of life to secure elegant dresses and ornaments lor her. It was in vain that tbe girl refused them and delcared that she disliked them "They are the means to an end,Irene," Lady Ryeford would say. "Marry well and I shall be more than repaid for anything I may have done for you."

But Iiene had made up her mind as to one thing. She had to live to please another, but she would marry to please herself there should be no mistake about that—if ever she married at all.

Lady Ryeford did her best to infuse a "proper" spirit into the girl, but she did not succeed. This visit of Lord Cradoc's, which she considered the greatest event of her life, was nothing to Irene. She herself was so anxious to please tbe earl that she would, if necessary, have groveled in the dust to him whereas Irene was most provokingly straightforwad and dignifiea with him, never agreeing with him unless she could honestly do so.

Lady Ryeford was elated over tba earl's visit she discussed It with every caller, and wherever she went it was the one theme of conversation and aha spoke of it, not as a novelty, but as though the earl*had been a constant visitor. "In his distress and sorrow he turned to Irene and myself for consolation," she repeated, until Bhe almost believed the words.

When it was known that the Earl of Crado^not only acknowledged his relationship with her, but was often to be seen at ner house, her social importance increased immensely. Lady Devon, who ha|-hitherto been quite content to send Lady Ryeford an occasional card for her "At Homes," now invited her to ber select little dinners. For many years the great desire of Lady Ryeford's heart had oeen to be admitted on intimate terms at Devon House. Lady Devon had resisted all her efforts but. when she heard that Lord Cradoc called at the bijou residence in Park Lane, the stately countess drove there, and made a point of seeing Lady Ryeford herself. "You must bring your beautiful daughter to my next Dall, Lady Ryeford," she said. "She will make a sensation."

While Lady Ryeford expressed her pleasure, she knew that tbe invitation was not owing to Irene's beauty or grace but simply to tbe fact that Lord Cradoc visited them. "I am afraid I shall not be able to accept your kind invitation," Lady Ryeford replied. "Lord Cradoc insists that Irene and I shall go to Poole for the Autumn."

When she uttered those magical words and the countess, with a gracious smile, said that she hoped to see Lady Ryeford at the Towers during the Christmas holidays, the ambitious mother felt that her highest desire was gratified she bad nothing more to wish. "Our fortune is made, Irene I" sbe cried. "Tbe dear countess has invited us to the Towers

Irene listened very calmly. "It will be a very expensive visit, mamma, and severely tax our yearly income," sbe said. "But it will bring us into the society in which I have always wished to move,'' rejoined Lady Ryeford.

The proposed visit to Poole engaged ber whole time, thought and attention. Tbe earl, although not knowing the true state of her finances, felt sure that sbe was not in good circumstances, and laced in her bands, as be had in es.

placed in her bands, as be had it Daphne's, a check, with many apologies •*I am assuring to myself and Lad]

Marcia the great pleasure of your society and I cannot bear to think that your kindras in accepting my invitation should put you to any inconvenience," be said. "It is tor two hundred pounds," Lady Ryeford remarked to ber daughter when the earl bad taken bis departure. "Irene, how can you say that civility to wasted on a man like the earl

CHAPTER IX.

HW1

ARB SO TIRKD, HEART A»D 1." "Irene," asked Lady Ryeford, "has tbe earl beard you sing yet "I believe, mamma," sbe replied,"that that to tbe only one of my accomplishments which I have not exhibited to him. He has been pleased to compliment me on my dancing be thinks my French and German fairly good be smiled moet amiably when he sew my drawings—a smile that conveyed more than words but be has not heard me ring. Tbatto a pleasure in store for him." "Irene," cried Lady Ryeford, "it to dreadful to bear you treat matters so lightly! Do you know what it means— whether tbe earl likes yon or not It means all tbe difference between poverty and wealth, between obsurity and a splendid poeitkm. How can you treat such a matter Jestingly? If tbe eari likes pjsy1 enrich you without hurting

ButVmamma,

"Wbydo

to eoovey ftdse impressions f" wuset liaa, nnfcsswe keep np

We A pretty

if be should be inbe would be

dined to like me, sandy be wouia oe better pleased by my being perfectly natural with him, and not trying to owltract bim by a display of all tbe edge I possess

V*

™You might be so different, Irene." •aid Lsdy Ryeford mourn folly, ••without losing any of your pride or independence. Ton might do so modi now. Yoasee that my heart is bent npon making tbe earl like as, sad* in short, npam

winning our way to his flavor yon have dooe nothing to help me. Do

-ir ''h

•*v #r

be more amiable. I know tbe earl is fond of music. Lady Galium was telling me yesterdsy that, when he was a young man, he was one of tbe most regular opera goers in London and the other evening, when we were at Lady Clanduff's, how delighted he was with Miss Marcbmont'ssiuging 1 I am sure I saw tears in his eyes. He said that he should probably come in this afternoon at five. Now promise me, that if he asks for a little music, you will sing your best sonss." "I will do what you wish, mamma," she replied obediently: and Lady Ryeford was so delighted*that she kissed her. "But," sbe added very gently, "if I do as you wish and sing to the earl, you will not tell him any stories about my music masters, and what they have said of my voice, will you They do distress me so." "Of course I shall not, Irene," was the half-impatient answer but Lady Ryeford inwardly resolved that she would not loee an opportunity of letting the earl know that it had been stated that Irene bad one of the finest voices ever heard off the stage.

The earl was at the door of No. 90 Park Lane, punctually at five. He found five o'clock lea at Laiciy Ryeford's far more enjoyable than his dinner later on at home. On such occasions Lady Ryeford thought a little display was true economy beside, the florist who sup-

{ng

tlied ber with flowers was a long-suffer-man, accustomed to the taraily settled accounts of fashionable ladies. Lord Cradoc soon felt more at home than he had yet, and Lady Ryeford was quick to see signs of relaxation on tbe faoe that was worn with with sorrow rather than with age. Then, with the tact of a clever woman, she introduced the subject of music, and, finding Lord Cradoc an enthusiast, she whispered to him that Irene had a fine voice. "All the Cradocs love music," he said.

My boys were very fond of it. They both had good voices, and sang well together

Lady Ryeford was always within the mark. Sbe knew that any verbal expression of sympathy would be out of place here: so sbe sighed deeply—a sigh that was far more eloquent than any words could baive been. "Let me look through your music,my dear," said the earl simply. "I could not bear to bear any of the songs my boys were so fond of."

The words touched Irene deeply. Sbe looked up at him with an expression on her face that made it more tenderly beautiful than he had ever seen it. "I would," she said, in a tremulous whisper, "that one of your boys were in my place now. and that I were beneath the sea in his." Then she turned from him abruptly and went to the piano. "I can always ring better without music," sbe said, and the song she sang was one that those who heard it remembered long after—"My Heart and I "How tired we feel, ray heart and I!

We seem of no use in the world Our fancies hang gray and uncurled About men's eyesIndifferently

Our voice, which thrilled you so, will let You sleep our tears are only wet. What do we here, my heart and I

"So tired, so tired, my heart and I, For now none takes me on his arm, To fold me close and kiss me warm, Till each quick breath ends in a sigh

Of happy languor. Now, alone, We lean upon this graveyard stone, Uncheered, unklssed, my heart and I.

"Tired eut are wo, my heart and I: Suppose the world brought diadems To tempt us. crusted with loose gems

luiupv UOi v.* Ctoivu fv».

Of powers and pleasures! Let It try. scarcely care to look at even cnlld or the blue heaven

no

We feel so tired, ray heart and I." Tears dimmed the earl's eyes even Lady Ryeford felt ber heart beat faster. It was as though some intangible influence filled the room—the power of reressed passion and a repressed soul,

ES

rd Cradoc went up to Irene. He bent

his white head over her.

I did not know, dear child," he said gently, "that you possessed such power of expression. One must have felt tired of life to be able to sing those words as you do." "I have often felt tired of life," she replied. "And why?" he asked. "Because I cannot lead tbe life I would," she replied.

Without another word she began a gay old Scotch ballad which delighted the earl. Still he kept bis eyes on ber face that song had been a revelation to him. He Lad understood Daphne's bright, poetic, beauty-loving nature at once there were greater depths here— depths of passion, of power and of pain not easily understood. There had been in tbis girl's life what there had never been in Daphne's.

Lady Ryeford's wish that tbe earl should be interested in her daughter was

?onad

gratified. Before he went away, be an opportunity of talking to Irene alone. "I thought," he said gently, "it was only tbe old and tbe sorrowful whoever grew tired of life." "I should think any one would grow tired of it who bad no eepedal interest in it." "But you," he said—"so young and— forgive me—so beautiful—you must have plenty of interest '•I have not," she answered. "I am afraid my heart and soul are full of vague longings, nameless wishes and desires. My life does not satisfy me in the least. I have nothing to do, but yet am one of those who absolutely require a definite object. Dressing, going out with mamma ana entertaining at home, do not satisfy me."

visiting a few friends

Lord Cradoc looked at tbe noble, eager face, with its expression of unsatisfied longing.

But, my dear child,".be said, "you have your mother to love and cherish, and your duties to her." "Yes, I know. I would do anything to make mamma happy, and. I hope never to fail in my duty toward ber,but it seems to me that I could do so much more." "What would you like to do be asked.

That to a practical question," said Irene. "I do not know. When you were young, Lord Cradoc, had yon none of those longings that cannot be ex-

world better than you found it, better because you had lived in it?" "I do not remember—I bad never much leisure. 1 was active In Parliament when 1 waa young, and, oertainly then I bad gnat ideas of what I might accomplish. Afterward, when I succeeded my father. I bad the care of estates and of tenants, then of wife and children. I must say that until lately I bave known bat little leisure."

Then yon do not understand what it to to want an interest in life," sbe said, with a smile tbat was half sad. "I wish I oonld go into Parliament, or bave tbe

[management of an estate, or bave the charge of many tenants. Bnttben lam a woman, and women cannot do soch things." 8be little knew how ber words touched bim—went to bis heart. "Iwiebloould bave tbe management of an estate."

Gbmtkmtdtm BmmUh Boot.

-**x t:

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STRONG FACTS

A great many people are asking what particular troubles BROWN'S^ IRON BITTERS is good for.

It will cure Heart Disease, Paralysis, Dropsy, Kidney Disease, Consumption, Dyspepsia, Rheumatism,. Neuralgia, and all similar diseases.

Its wonderful curative power tosimply because it purifies and enriches the blood, thus beginning at the foundation, and by building upthe system, drives out all disease.

4 Lady Cured of Rheumatism. »y.

Baltimore, Md., May 7.1880. ly health was much shattered by Rheumatism when 1 commenced taking Brown's Iron Bitters, and I scarcely had strength enough to attend to my daily household duties. I am now using the third bottle and I am regaining strength daily, and E cheerfully recommend it to all. 1 cannot say too much in praite of it. Mrs. MAKY E. BRASHKAK, 173 Prestmanit.

My health was much shattered

Kidney Disease Cured.

Christiansbuiv, Va., 1881. Suffering from kidney disease, from which 1 could get no relief, I tried Brown's Iron Bitters, which a cured me completely. A child o( mine, recovering from scarlet fever, had no appetite and did not seem to be able to eat at a|J. I gave him Iron

Bitters with the happiest results. J. KVLB MONTAGUS.

9*

Heart Disease.

Vine St., Harrisburg. Pa. Dec. a, 1881.

After trying different physicians and many remedies for palpitation of the heart without receiving any benefit, I was advised totry Brown's Iron Bitters. 1 have useo two bottles and never found anything that gave me so much relief.

Mrs. JKNNIH HBSS.

For the peculiar-troubles to which ladies are fcubjeft, BROWN'S IRON BITTERS is invaluable. Try it.

Be sure and get the Genuine.

Vital Questional

Ask the most eminent physician Of any school, what Is the Ixwt thing in the world for quieting and allaying all irritation of the nerves and curing all forms of nervous complaint, giving natural, childlike refreshing sleep always?

And they will tell you unhesitatingly "Some form of Hops!" CHAPTER 1. Ask any or all of the most eminent physicians: "What is the best and only remedy tbat can be relied on to cure all diseases of the kidneys and urinary organs such as Brigbt's disease, diabetes, retention or Inability to retain urine, and all the diseases and ailmemts peculiar to Women"— "And they will tell you cxpllclty and emphatically "Buehu."

Auk the same phyfticiann •'What Is the most reliable and Murc»t cure for all liver dlseawHor dyspepKln constipation, indigestion bllllouHiieas, malarial fever, ague Ac.," and they will tell you:

Mandrake or Dandelion I" Hence, when thwie remedies are combined with others equally valuable

And conipound into Hop Bitters, such a [Concluded next week.]

OUNTAIN HOUSE, CHKHHON Hl'KINOH, Cambria county. Pa. Upenn June 2Jd, closec Octobcr 1, lKWi. Reduced rates. Unsurpassed accommodations. On mnln line of Pennsylvania Railroad, 2,200 feet abovo sea level, situated In a park of one hundred acres, amid the matchless scenery of the Alleghenles, its accessibility, pure air, and freedom from malaria, flies and mosquitoes render It tbe most desirable resort In theHtate. Hpcclal rate round trip tickets on sale at all principal in

During 1881 a new hotel was erected—firstclass in all Its appointments, and capable uuun im nil iin (with all Its cottages) of accommodating nearly 1,000 guests. Cottages may be rented by those desiring the quiet and seclusion of home. ...

For descriptive circulars, diagram and terms, add reap W. D. TYLER, Hupt. The celebrated Logan House, Altoona, Pa., is also under Mr. Tyler's management.

Bend for circulars.

MILLER'S HOTEL,

No*. 87,», A 41, WestTwenty-Bixth Street, NEW YORK CITY,

Between Broadway and Hlxth Avenue, near Madison Park.

A quiet, healthy location, convenient by staves, hone cars, s~"i the elevated roads to all partirof the elty.

In the center of retail wade.places of amusements, and the principal notels and churches PERMANENT OR TRANSIENT GUESTS

KATBK—9&60 to 14.00 per day fl0J0to«25J» per week, according toslse and location or rooms. Special rates for famlles or by the year.

Tsrklib, Eectrla, and Koman Bat lis Connected with the hotel at reduced rates to Dr. K. P. KELLER, Proprietor.

O .H. HAYNE8. Business Manager.

OBATEFUI^-COMFOBTIMG.

EPFS'S COCOA

BREAKFAST.

"By a thorough knowledge of the natural laws which govern the operations of digestion and nutrition, and by a careful application of the fine properties of well-elected Cocoa, Mr. Epps naa provided oar breakfast tables with a delicately flavored beverage which may save us many heavy doctors Mils. It is by the Judlefcms use of such artleles of diet that a constitution may be gradually built up until strong ^noujpl^to resist ofsubUemal^^efloaUng around us readyto attack wherever there is a weak lylgt. We may escape many a fatal shaft by keeping ooraeives well fortlfled with jporebtood and a property nourished frame. —{Civil Service

Made simply with boiling water or milk 8oid to tins only (Jglb. and lb.) by Grocer*,

HomSiopsShlc racm U^Lon3on? England

$5te$20&ift&. am A Co-Portland, Maine.

iiil

at bom*. Samnlea free. Addrew ef«n-