Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 14, Number 11, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 8 September 1883 — Page 6

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1 THE MAIL

W A PAPER FOR THE PEOPLE.

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Her Mother's Sin -"SIF!

THK AUTH0K OF

"Dora Thome," "Lady Darner's Secret," "The Shadow of a sin," "Love for a Day,"etc.

CHAPTER XXIII.

"THK FDTTFBK COUNTESS OF CBAOOC AMD MISTRESS OP POOLE." "Lady Marcia," said Daphne, solemn ly, yet with a gleam of laughter iu her blue eyes, "1 believe that you would like me to be mistress of Poole." "What induces you to think that, Daphne?" asked Lady Marcia, wonderingly, as though her most important secret bad been discovered. "Well, your eyes follow me so wist fully, and I think I know what the rea BOD IS." F. ^.r/'What, my dear?"" "Because I am like Alaric. Is it not so, Lady Marcia? Tell me. Youdonot base your wish for my success on any higher ground it is not because you think me suited for the position, but because I have Alaric's face." "Well, my dear, I think you are right." allowed Lady Marcia, meekly "butI did not think you would read me I

so well. My opinion, of course will not have much weight." "I do not know," said Daphne, "that I should be best fitted for the post. I think sometimes that my nature is too bright and buoyant for great responsibilities." "Yet you have borne great responslbiiities all through your life, Daphne." "Of a different kind, Lady Marcia. Looking at the matter from Lord Cradoe's standpoint, that the honor and glory of the house are the primary consideration, I do not think I am a suitable successor." "Of course it will be a magnificent position, but I am sure that I myself J.should shrink from it. Although only coronet is at stake, one cannot but think of Shakespeare's words, 'Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown." "Yes, Lady Marcia, happiness does not necessarily dwell in the high places of earth. I am not ambitious I would not be a queen if I could—so lonely, so

Isolated. Indeed, I am not sure whether I would wish to be Countess of Cradoc." On that, day they had bad a pvere fright about the earl. He bad not seemed well of late ne lobked pale, and be complained constantly of great fatigue and weakness. Tn the morning, as he was reading his newspaper, resting in an easy chair, he had fainted, and. there had been great consternation in the household. He was well again before the doctor leached Poole, but the medical mail looked very grave after visiting his lordship. ^Vhen he spoke to Lady Marcia, he said that there was no immediate danger, but that the earl was in a low, weak state—that the action of the heart was impaired, and that it was impossible to say what might not occur, tody Marcia was terrified, and she sent at onoe for her chief adviser and friend, Mr. Rigbv. The good lawyer was distressed when he heard the news. "He has never got oyer the loss of the boys, and be never will," said Mr. Rigby. "The earl should begin to make Ms arrangements at once. If you will permit me, I will speak to him myself."

The result of the conversation was that the earl sent later for Lady Marcia and Mr. Rigby. They found him waiting for them in the library, looking sadly weak and ill.

Your lordship must be careful," said 'Mr. Rigby. "I/et us save you all the trouble and anxiety we can.'* "I have been thinking." remarked the earl, "of how we shall best arrive at our decision respecting the succession. The two girls are both well known to us we know their dispositions thoroughly. We

make as wise a choice now as we could in two years' time we had better, therefore, have no further delay. It ,j rests with us three. Let us each take a sheet of blank paper, and write on it the name of the one whom we believe to be the best fitted for the position. That will be the fairest plan." "Yes," said Mr. Rigby "and may heaven direct us rightly! lhe earl handed a sheet of writing paper and a pen to Lady Marcia aud Mr.

Rigby. '•Now," he said,

Mwe

RW

will each write

down the name of the girl we think best fitted to be the future mistress of Poole."

There was not a sound as the name was written, nor did there appear to be the least hesitation. Lady Marcia paled as she wrote, but her hand was firm Mr. Rigby acted with business-like promptitude and the earl wrote with slow deliberation. t! When they had finished, Lord Cradoc said: "Now, Rigby, you take the papers and read out the names."

The silence was as the silence of death while the lawyer gathered the three folded aheets in his hand. He opened the first and read, in a clear, firm voice, "Irene Ryeford the seoond—"Kene Ryeford the third—"Irene Ryeferd and there was a pause, during which the earl fancied that he could hear his own heart beat.

Thev looked in relief at each other. "We are all agreed, it seems," said Lady Marcia. "Irene Ryeford, then, will be the future Countess of Cradoc and mistress of Poole." said the earl. "May heaven bless her and grant her wisdom and steadfastness!" "Amen!" said Mr. Rigby. "I think we have made the wisest choice. It is irrevocable now, and will be a great relief." "I believe that each of us loves Daphne best in our hearts," said Lady Marda. "I am sure I do she is like sunshine to me. And I am sure, Thane, that von must love her best, because she has Alaric's face. I cannot speak positively for you, Mr. Rigby. But, though we love her most, we all threesee that Irene will beet fill the position." "True," said the earl. "True," echoed the lawyer/ «And then Lord Cradoc turned to his adviser. "You need lose no time now, Rigby," be said. You can begin the preparation of the needful documents to-day, If you will: and the moment it Is ready I will sign it." "I wlU attend to that first,- said Mr.

w«s decided that the earl should speak to Irene as early as possible. He promised to send for her when he felt "We must make Daphne happy," whispered Lord Cradoc to his sister-ln-law.aa she went away. "You may trust to me on that score," abe replied. "Irene will for the future belong to you, but Daphne will be my

charge "and Lady Marcia was well content with the decision that left her for her own the girl she loved so well.

The anxious suspense, the trying ordeal of weighing and judging character, were past

BOW,

the terrible tension, the

conjectures and doubts, and Irene had won. She, by virtue of her sterling qualities an* evident capacity for governing, was to be mistress of Poole.

Lady Marcia could not help wondering whom Irene would marry—whether she would be content and happy while Lord Cradoc tried to collect his ideas and think over what he had to say to her. He hoped it would please heaven now that he should live a little longer. He would to teach and train Irene himself for some years above all, he would see her safely married to some good man who would understand and appreciate her position. He had heard from Lady Ry" ford, who carefully suppressed the

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of Arran Darleigh's existence, that the young Earl of Studley was attached to her daughter but a marriage of that kind would never do. It was not likely that the Earl of Stndley would consent tc forego his name and adopt that of Cra doc.

He was more at rest than be had been for along time. He had been tossing continually on a sea of doubt now that was at an end. There would still be difficulties to face but they were as trifles compared with the great one just vanquished.

Presently he fell asleep. His head, so mueh whiter than it bad been only seven months before, lay back on the velvet cushion of his chair. He dreamed that he stood on the seashore with his boys— Alaric with the laughing eyes, and Bertie with the sweet, thoughtful face—that he kissed them with passionate kisses—held tbem to bis breast with passionate dries. "I thought vou were drowned!" he cried to tbem. *'1 have been in such bitter trouble and distress—I thought you were drowned!" And they answered him with cheerful, loving words.

CHAPTER XXIY.

"YOU WEBB BORN TO GKBATNESS." "Irene," said Lady Ryefoid, "the earl has sent for you. Oh, iny dear child, do be careful! I know that Mr. Rigby was with him this morning, and that some very special business was transacted. Do be careful."

Something—perhaps the keen, almost painful anxiety on her mother's facetouched Irene. She grew impatient at times, and rebelled inwardly against her mother's worldliness, her want of truth, her love of scheming but she lovedher, and would always do her best to please her, if she could with a clear conscience. "Dear mamma," she said, patiently, "I will be careful, although I do not see what I am to be careful about." "You do not underbtand, Irene. I assure you, my dear, that lam trembling with anxiety. Look at/my bands I cannot even hpld my fan".' You seem to forget all there is at stake. You may be Countess of Cradoc, Baroheto Hyde, and yet you are as cool and unconcerned as though it were merely some paltry pittance that was at stake." "That is the proper wayin which to meet great events, mamjtm. All the anxiety, fuss, nervousness, ind fancy in the world kill never atterjhatters." "My dear Irene," criecrLady Ryeford, "you were born* to greatness you have such grandeur of character. go, dearcnild. Do not keep the earl Waiting. He is in the library, aqd Lady Marcia says that be wants'to see you at once. Oo, Irene, and be careful. I could never go back toPark Laos and privation after this—never!"

With the echo of these words in her ears, Irene sought the earl. She found him sitting In the library, with a strange and bewildered expression of face. "What is the matter. Lord Cradoc?" she asked, kindly. "rou do not look like yourself." "My dear Irene, I have had a dream that has agitated me terribly. Indeed, at first I could not believe that |t(was a dretm. It seemed to me that ^T could hear the breaking of the

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on the

shore, and the ling of my boys' laughter. I scarcely know now whether I am awake or asleep, Irene." "I am sorry to see yon like this, Lord Cradoc," she returned. "Let me sing to you, or read to you." "My dearest Irene," he said, rousing himself, "I sent for you because I have much to say to yon. Sit down by my sicte*"

But Irene* took a footstool, and sat down at the earl'a feet. Hers was not a loving, caressing nature like Daphne's, but the pitiful, yearning look in the old man's eyes touched her neart. She took the cold, trembling hands in ber own soft and warih ones she bent her beautiful head and kisssd them. "I wish," she said, "that I knew how to comfort you." "You win, Irene, you will. I am sel fish to think only of myself. I have sent for you to tell you important news For the future you must be to me as dear daughter, for It is decided that you shall be my heiress. You are to be mistress of Poole and Countess of Cradoc."

She grew pale even to the lips, and for some row moments was unable to utter a word. "You will be pleased to know/' he continued, "that we all— that is, Lady Marcia, Mr. Rigby, and myself—agreed in our choice. It is not, you understand, that we love you better than Daphne, but that we consider you better fitted to fill the position. You have a firmer grasp, greater capability." "I do not know what to say," she replied. "I am grateful—indeed, I am grateful. I appreciate the magnificent compliment of such a choice out I do not know whether I should be glad or sorry. It is a great responsibility, and I am but young."

You are old in wisdom and experthe said, gently. "You are my ughter and heiress from this moment. You must live with me your

ence, adopted daughter interest and mine must be one for the future. You must be to me asa beloved child, in the place of the ones I have lost.

Daphne's arms would Ions before this have been around his neck, and her loving face pressed to his. Irene stood trembling, her face grave and her eyes steady, as though oppressed by serious thought. "I will do my best," said Irene, "to be a loving child to yon."

The earl took his hands from her clasp, and laid them upon her head. She did not bear the murmured words, but she knew that the earl was Messing ber and offering up a fervent prayer for her and she was silent, though her heart was fut) of emotion. Then be continued: "While I live your task will be easy, Irene: but I do not think I shall live very long. What are thoae lines of youi* Irene?— #l»t -re never never a chink In the world

Wbv.r they listen fat words from below f* If tbei» be such, Irene, I have beard the voice* *.f my boys calling for me. It Is after gone that yon will fed the burden and The weight. Mr. Rigby will bes^-d friend to yon while be Uvea, but in all probability yon will outlive him many years. Now, Irene, I want yon to make a few sacrifices for ma Will yon, fi of all, glv» up London and live here etui rely

"That will be no sacrifice," she said, "I should like it bert." "Then I want you to study many things, so that you may thoroughly understand the management of an estate, and know when your agents ara at fault." "I will study anything you wish," she replied gently. "I only wish to please you." "I have not been well lately,"

foing

said

The girl's face, lately so pale, flushed, and her eyes flashed with alight of happiness. "I will endeavor to do my duty," she said. "I will try never to think of myself. but always of others—to dos little of the good your sons would have done. But, dear Lord Cradoc, let me go now 1 will come again at any time you want me. I feel I cannot talk to you any longer at present."

Lord Cradoc kissed the beautiful face quivering with emotion, and Irene quitted the room. Her first thought was of others. "Poor mamma, how pleased she will be!" she thought. "I must tell her first" "She went straight to her mother's room, where Lady Ryeford was in a state of intense anxiety. She was pale and almost breathless when Irene reached her she gazed with a pathetic appealing eyes intoner daughter's face. "1 have hardly the strength to ask you, Irene but is there—is there any good news for me?" "Yes, mamlma the very best you will think it."

And Lady Ryeford sank back in her chair. "Thank Heaven! What is it, Irene? Tell me quickly, dear child. I have said little about it, but the very thought of going back toPark Lane has been Intolerable to me. Tell me your news quickly.

Irene's face flushed deeply. "The earl has told me that be adopts me to-day as bis daughter and beirees. I," she continued slowly, "am to be mistress of Poole and Countess of Cradoc," "My dear child!" cried Lady Ryeford: and for once in her life she succumbed to a violent fit of

Irene In great side.

srics.

Hstress, knelt by her

"Mamma dear, pray do not give way. What will they think I shall die of shame if any one ever knows that you thought so much of this. What can 1 say if Lady Marcia comes Do control yourself." "1 cannot help it," said L«dy Ryeford. "You not know what I have suffered, nor how great the relief is. My darling child, I always knew that you were bom to great fortune." '•Do not say anything about it chamtnta, until the earl speaka of it, for he was in great trouble when I went to him. He had been dreaming about bis boys, and seemed hardly awake, hardly nimself when I went in. Yet ne was so kind to me. But you know mamma, I am quite sure that they aU love Daphne. They cannot help it she is so bright and sweet."

Ah, but she is not aacleverasyou," rejoined the mother exultingly. "and they found it out "I hope it is all for the beat." said Irene, walking restlessly up and down the room, her face flushed, her bands burning. "Mamma," she added. "I am more unnerved than I oould have thought it possible tO be I cannot remain still." "I do not wonder at it, Irene. It Is glorious news. I think my heart will never beat quietly again." "I hope," said Irene gently, "that Daphne will not be disappointed." •-Daphne," returned Lady Ryeford, in a scornful tone—"Daphne oould never have been mistress of Poole she is but a child 1 You, a perfect woman of the world, could take your place anywhere, IreneI You muat not forget how much you owe to my training and to me." "I shall never forget it, mamma, and I hope some day to repay you," replied Irene.

And for the first time in her life, ambitious Lady Ryeford was happy. CHAPTER XXY. «*A FMBl'lVa KVKKIKQ."

Lord Cradoc bad invited Sir Trevor to dinner, and, Mr. Rigby having promts to come, his lordship thought ne would take the opportunity of making hia intentions concerning Irene public.

When the ladies of the household, with the guests, were In the drawing room before dinner, be approached Irene and took ber by the band. She looked very beautiful, very stately, in her favorite enters, pale amber and black, while tonight some of the famous Cradoc diamonds shone on her neck and in the coils of her black bair. A feeling of pride and exultation possessed the earl as he led her forward. His voice was tremulous as be spoke. "I wish,.' be said, "to present to you, my, relations and dear friends, my adopted daughter and heiress, Irene Ryeford. If it should please Heaven to spare her, she will be mistress of Poole and Countess of Cradoc."

Daphne, looking quite feiry-like in ber dress. with its trimming of ivy leaves, was the first to come forward to congratulate ber. She advanced with a sweet smile and a brilliant light in ber beautiful eyes, with white outstretched arms, fair, rran k, charming. Of jealousy, disappointment, bitterness, there waa not a trace on the nir young face. "I congratulate you with all my heart, Irene," be said.

The two beautiful beads made a fair re as the girls kissed escb other, waa not even a shadow in Daphne's clear blue eyes.

Then, standing at a little distance from Irene, she scanned ber with a laughing graoe. "You look like tbechatelatne of Poole," she said. "Long life and happiness to you, Irene."

Daphne's sweet unselfishness and tone magnanimity impressed those present beyond expression—for, If die baa shown some little disappointment or mortificalt would have seemed but natural, cooId not have issued mors1 frou tbe trying ordeal.

TEKRE HAUTE SATURDAY OTW0 MATT,

the

earl, "and I fancy the doctor does not think very favorably pt my state of health therefore, now that the important decision has been made, the sooner everything was concluded the better. Mr. Kigby will draw up my will at once. Do you remember telling me, Irene, when we were in the park, what you should do if you had a great estate "Yes. I remember it perfectly," she replied "but, believe me, I never dreamed of this." "I am quite sure you did not. If I had thought you bad any notion of what was

to happen, yon* words would have ad little weight with me. Being unpre meditated, they first opened mv eyes to your worth. What you said, too, about the cottages carried conviction with it. You will wish Lady Ryeforu to live here with you, of course?" added the earl. "Yes. And the pleasure the change will afford my mother will be to me a source of greater happiness than all else, said Irene. "Oh, Lord Cradoc, I can scarcely realize it all! I have never dreamed of possessing riches or title." "So much the bettef, Irene. You will be none the worse for not having wasted time in day-dreams."

Then Lady Marcia kissed the beautiful heiress and Lady Ryeford added her congratulations. Mr. Rigby made a polite little speech, and Sir Trevor kissed her hand, wishing the while that it were the hand of Daphne Erleeote. "I am so thankful—do not think me selfish—that you are not to be heiress of Poole," he said to Daphne, as they sat at dinner. "That sounds very ill-natured, Sir Trevor," she answered, laughing. "You ought to condole with me I have missed the chance of a largo fortune, Why should you be pleased?" "Because," he declared, with sudden passion, "I should like to offer you everything you can wish for myself. Nothing in this world will ever be of any value to me unless you share it."

Daphne only laughed again. "For one who had ignored the exist ence of the fair sex for so many years," she said, "that is a very oourteous speech." "I wonder," he said ruefully, "if you will ever do anything except laugh at me?" ••I am afraid," returned Daphne, with alarming frankness, "that I never shall."

It was quite a festive evening. The earl was brighter and more cheerful than he bad been for some time Lady Ryeford was in the gayest of spirits Lady Marcia was quietly happy Daphne, who migut have been depressed when she remembered what she had so narrowly missed, was as blithe, as bright as ever

Later on in the evening Irene stole up to her and passed her arm round he neck. "Daphne, how good, how delightfull" unselnsh you are! I am afraid that, if were in you place, I could not be so." "But you would indeed," said Daphne. "You know what our bargain was."

Irene laid her head against her friend's. "You shall not suffer m^re than I can help," she said. "If ever the&e broad, lands are mine, your father shall have the wish of his heart, and the Erleeote Gallery shall be an accomplished fact and you shall be^ my sister. Daphne. You shall share everything with me. me." "There is to be no division of lands or money," observed Daphne with a pretty imperious gesture. "No that will not be needed. I shall be able to help you without that," said Irene.

She had been outwardly very calm, in the face of her mother's wild emotion and of all the congratulations offered to ber but she felt a raging fever in her veins, a fierce throbbing in every pulse, and she longed to be alone to think over the whole matter.

Whet a glorious future stretched before her, holding everything for which, in her secret heart, she had longed—power, control, scope for what sne felt to be ber own great capabilities! Visions of the happiness she could confer on others rose before her. Her hesrt softened as she thought of the happiness she oould bring toner mother, who had borne so many humiliations and mortifications while endeavoring to keep her place in "society" long after she had ceased to have the necessary meaning for so doing. She could not rest for the thoughts that thronged through her brain. The atmoepbere of the bouse seemed stifling she must go out. So, when the household were wrapped in slumber, which Daphne's golden head lay upon the pillow, and In her sleep she half smiled, half sighed that she was not countess. Irene went out on to the terrace to seeif the fresh sir would quiet the intense excitement which had mastered ber.

All hers was the grand pile of buildings, with the fortune it wntsined in pictures and works of art hers were the broad lands which stretched out far and wide before her, hers the coronet, the grand old motto—"I hold what I held."

It was not wonderful that she who had been compelled to count every shilling should be in some measure overcome by the grandeur of the prospect before her. She stood in her favorite place against the marble balustrade, ana, as the night wind fsnned her brow, it seemed to blow away all wild-fevered fancies and cooled the fever that ran riot in her veina. Then a great calm came to her she was mistress of herself again, and ber first steady thought was of ber lover, and what difference this change would make to him. She knew that ne was too manly, too independent to be drawn one jot nearer to her. that he was not a man who would ever ne willing to live on the wealth of a wife, and inlier own beart at that moment she felt that money and position won by bim lot her would have been dearer to ber.

Then another thought came to ber. She must tell Lord Cradoc of her engagement—and perhaps that might affect his decision. She knew that, as his adopted daughter, be must have something to say about her marriage it waa a question that affected him now. She would, however, always be true to Arran. She felt that he was dearer than *11 the world, than life itself, to ber she would not give him up to be a queen. Whatever else happened to her, to the one love of her life ahe would be true.

She resolved that she would speak to the earl in the early morning. Ferhapa, after all, the grand domain and the title might not be bers. All would depend on how he received the news of her engagement. He was kind-hearted,she knew but he was also very proud. He was ambitious, too, if she read bim rightly, and thought much of the claims of rank. ButArran was a Radical—be disliked the aristocracy—he bad a thorough contempt for class distinctions. The fact that his uncle wss a baronet did not in the least affect bis viewa. And Irene, who had made light of and laughed at tbem, now saw in tbem a very serious possible obstacle to tbe earl's wishes.

She wondered whether b-. r-oud lover would ever consent to gi bis own name and take that oT auuiner man— whether he, who believed in tbe rights of tbe people and tbe principles of true .iberty and equality, would consent, ss it were, to be bought over. She smiled as she remembered his face when ber mother spoke, as she dearly loved to do, of her tiued friends. "It will be a test of his love and of mine," she said to herself.

The fever was gone now ber eyes were heavy with sleep she could rest now, although the future was no longer certain, for, come what might, she was determined to be true to Arran. It was Arran who haunted ber dreams that night, not the coronet.

On tbe following morning Irene went to the earl when he had finished his breakfast. "1 am at your service, my dear Irene, whenever you will," be replied.

And tbey went together to tbe library, which was alwaya known as the earl's aaorning-room, and where no one ever intruded without permission.

Lord Cradoc little dreamed of what his adopted daughter bad to say to bim.

CHAPTER XXVL "B rr A LOVI STOBT

It was not so easy a task as Irene had imagined, this telling of her love-story. She scarcely knew bow to begin. She felt a shy, nervona tremor, such aa she bad not experienced when speaking of it to ber mother come over her.

II waa a vary different matter, telling hn wa* love-story to Lord Cradoc. He

was not lacking in sympathy but she feared—and by this time she bad grown I really to fear ft—that the earl also would disapprove of ber engagement. If he! did,tbe coronet, title, estate, all must go I the? were as nothing in comparison with herlove. Her worldly training, tbe mercenary motives that had been sought to be instilled into her, the false atmosphere in which she had lived—none of these had harmed her noble nature. They would have utterly ruined some girls she had recoiled from them unhurt. "I thought," she said, looking up with a smile into Lord Cradoc's face, "that it would have been easier to tell you than it is. You were young once, and yon loved some one very dearly. Perhaps you did not find it easy to—to— "Courage, Irene! You have something to tell me which is difficult to say.

Trust me, my dear we are father and daughter now. Even if I do not approve, you need not fear m'e. Speak to me as you would to your own father if he were living." "Ah," sighed the girl, "my own father Life was very different to me when I lost him. I want to tell you, Lord Cradoc," she said, "that I am not alto•getherfree. As you have adopted me hitoyour heart and home, I am bound to tell you this." "In what way are you not free he ashed. "You think me very nervous and foolish," she said, lier face flushing "but I have never spoken of this to anyone except my mother." "Is it a love-story he asked. "Yes," she replied. "And you never told even Daphne he continued. "No it is too dear to my heart. I Could not speak of it," she said, gently, "even to one so sweet and kind as Daphne."

The he knew that it was not a girl's fancy, but the constant, faithful, passionate love of a woman that was in question. "1 waat to tell you all about it," said Irene. "I met Arran Darleigh three years ago. I was a very young girl then, but old enough to appreciate him. 1 had lived—remember, I Dlame no one—from tbe time of my father's death in what might be called an atmosphere of shams, and Arran was so true, so manly, so honest, that my heart went out to him before I knew it. He looked at matters in aright light he did not propound selfishand worldly, false and parrow notions as noble theories. He seemed to me noble, frank, daring and generous. I loved bim almost without knowing it. and he loved m& We did not think that there would be any great obetacle to our love. He comes of a good family, tbe Darleighs of Froude, and is a barrister by profession."

She paused. Tbe earl looked kindly at ber. "Go on, my dear," be said gently. "I cannot," she answered. "I wanted to tell you how I love him but I do not know bow. He seems to me tbe other half of my own soul, the better half of my heart. To me there are but two spots in this world—where he is and whete he is not. Do you understand me "Perfectly," he replied. "Go on, Irene." "I was too happy," she said, "at first, to think what mamma would say. The worst that I anticipated was that would insist upon our waiting until Arran bad made bis way in the world. But the result was far worse than that. My mother would not bear of our engagement. In vain' Arran told her how dearly he loved me. that he was sure to succeed, and that if sbe would only permit us to wait for a short time be would be in receipt of a good income and be able to offer me a home. In vain he told her that he did not intend to rest until be had reached the highest rung of the ladder and had the world at bis feet. She would not hesr of his proposal she dismissed him, forbidding bim to come the houseagain, to write to me, or try to see me. But we were pledged to each other, and, loving aawe did, we could not give each other up. So he told my mother frankly, adding that he should go on working and waiting for me until better times came. He tola her that he would stoop to nothing dishonorable, no clandestine correspondence or meetings but that at intervals he should write to me. and that, when by accident he met me, he should always treat me as his sfflanced wife. Ab,me, how long the years have been 1 We have neither of us been guilty of one act of deceit. However much my heart baa ached, I have never written to ask him to see me but I.think my sorrow has made me older than my years. At rare Intervals, such as Christmas and on St. Valentine's Dsy, he has written to me and I have answered him. We have met by accident, too, and a great source of happiness to me has been tbe fact that we have lived not very far apart. I could not be wholly desolate when be waa so near me. I hold myself pledged to him, Lord Cradoc." she ioneluded. "I have promised to oe his, and —it is well to speak plainly—I would rather be bis wife, If he be had not one abiHing in tbe world, than Queen of the Indies." "My dear Irene," said the ear),gently, "when 1 first saw you, I knew, from the expression of your fsce^o different from Daphne's, that your life had a history. And this is it, Irene?" "Yes," she replied "if my face conveys a story, it Is one of faithful, unchanging love. You know the Cradoc motto, 'I hold what I held.' Now, Lord Cradoc, you will tell me what you think of my love story?" "It is very natural, Irene, and very pretty but I doubt whether you have acted wisely."

Her face fell, and the light died from her dark eyes. "I thought," she said, slowly, "that you would be my friend." "So I am, my dear child more. You lik

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indeed lam

lain speaking. Let me

speak plainly. While I do not think that fathers or mothers should try to ooeroe their children's affections, I think that children should try to study their parents in tbe important step of choosing husband or wife. Your mother has certainly devoted herself to you, and no doubt sne expected you, in your turn, to marry well. Iam quite sure that if my boys had lived, I should have liked tbem to marry in their own sphere." "But who can say a word against Arran?" she said, quickly. "Why, he is more highly educated and far more intelligent than bis fellows, as a rule." "It is a troublesome question," odd tbe earl. "I h?rdly expected this com-

iHcation, Irene I waa unprepared for "I thought I had better tell vou at once," she remarked. "It Is right that you should know." "Certainly," be said. "You are loyal and truthful, Irene, and I admire tbe straightforward wayin which you have told me your story. Nothing, I suppose, would indoce you to give him up?"

He never forgot the look that came into her dark eyes. "Nothing," aba replied. "I would far rather yield up my life."

He was disappointed but be could not refrain from admiring tbe constancy of tbe girl. Yet be wished with all bis beart that matteia bad been different.

Irene watched the change in hlaface.

"I?," she said, slowly, "you thin that what I have told you should induct you to reconsider your decision, Cradoc, do not hesitate to say so. first duty is to my lover. Do not to say wnat vou will to me." "My denr Irene,"said the earl, slowly "I do not clesriy see my way. You must let me think." [TO BK CONTINUED NKXT WBKK.](

THE MEADOWS OF MARYLAN. SPRINGFIELD, PWNCB GEOBGE'S MD. Mr. has. G. Addison, of the abov place states: "I sprained my right kne causing intense suffering, and tbe useo orutcbes for several weeks. I found relief in other remedies and finally tri the miracle of cure, St. Jacobs Oil. In short time I could bend my knee—whic had been as stiff as an iron-rod,—layin aside my crutches and was able to wal as well as ever."

NEURALGIA AND SIOH HEADACHE. In Aurora, 111., lives Mrs. Wm. Henson. Sbe says: "Samaritan Ne cured me of neuralgia, vertigo and sick headache."

STRENGTH

to vigorously push a business, strength to study a profession,'"'1 strength to regulate a household, strength to do a day's labor with-®*? out physical pain. AH this repre-% sents what is wanted, in the often,, heard expression, Ch I wish I*** had the strength!" If you are^! broken down, have not energy, or? feel as if life was hardly worth liv-^f. Ing, you can be relieved and re-p* stored to robust health and strengths by taking BROWN'S IRON BIT—* TERS, which is a true tonic—# medicine universally recommended* for all wasting diseases,. ic5

501 N. Fremont St., lialtimors ||, During tfie war I was in-ga jurcd in the stomach by apieco^ of a shell, and have suffered?/ from it ever since. About Cour^ years ago it brought on paralysis, which kept me in bed sixf months, r.nd the best doctorsin the city said I could not live. 1 suffered fearfully from indigestion, and for over two years could not eat solid food/ and for a large portion of the time was unable to retain cven liquid nourishment. I triedj^ Brown's Iron Hitters and now^»' after taking two bottles 1 anv. able to get up and go around? and am rapidly improving,

G. DECKER.

FITTERSI«*

BROWN'S IRON

a complete and sure remedy for1' Indigestion, Dyspepsia, Malaria,, Weakness and all diseases require ing a true, reliable, non-alcoholta tonic. It enriches the blood, gives new life to the muscles and tone

[Continued.] CHAPTKR II.

wonderful and mystsrious curative power is developed wnlch is so varied in ito operations that no disease or ill health can possibly exist or resist its power, and yet it is

Hsrmless for the most frail woman, weakest invalid or smallsst child to use. "Pottenta "Almost dead or nearly dying" I

For years, and given up by physician? of Brigbt's and other kidney diseases, liver complaints, severe oougbs called consumption, hsve been cured.

StK^Ul

1

Women gone noarly crazy! From agony of neuralgia,nervouBnese. wakefulness and various diseases peco* liar to women.

People drown out of shape from exerocla» ting pangs of Rheumatism. Inflammatory *nd chronic, or rafferlBg from scrofula, erysipelas!

Salt rbemn, blood poisoning.dyspepsia, indigestion, and In fad almost ail diseases nail Nature is heir to

Have been cured by Hop Bitters, proof of which can be found in every neighborhood of the known world.

The only known cpecifle for BpDeptlc Flta.TI Also for Spams sad FaDlag Slekneas. JTerrons WealmeH it laatantirrelleTesaad cores. ClesntM blood and quicken* sluggish circulation. Wtntnb Usesgennsof disease and asres sickness. Can*

flA SKEPTIC SA1DI1

-gif blotcheisndstubbornbloodsores. Eliminates Boils,Caifatncles sndScslds. crTermanenUy sad prompUf corespsralysU. 7es.lt Is achcrstlag sad bealthfal Aperient. KIlUBcrofals and Kings ErQ, twin brothers. Cbsngesbsd breath t? good, jrenwr-

ingthecsnse. Boots Mllcms tendencies snd makes clear complexion. EqnUed by none in tbe delirium of ferer. A charming resolvent sndataatcbless laxative. It drives Sick Headache like the wind, |y

Contains no drtstto esthsnlo or opiates. Be» jg

Kg (THE MEAT) iEjv|gfC|0|ll|QHHE|R|0|R

Hersstbe bniaof morbidfafides. promptly cores Bheumatism by looting It." Bestows llfe-glTlng properties to tbe Mood. Is guaranteed to core si nerroos disorders. HTEsHsWs when stl opiates fall. Befreebes the mind sndinrlgorstestbe body. Cores djspepsla or money reftmdsd.

tWlEIWEWlFWllLlS]

Dtaesscsof the htoodowattaeeaessnr. dorsud in writing by erertftytboasandlesdiBge** lisis.

IIISIJIIMISSIHIyliflrlsnshi

T7 snrtirnrnr

(•TTorsslebf sDlesdtBgdreggists. SlJBO. X4D Hi *. I fifiuoi Miaitt., rnirari

ST. JOftEPH, MO.

y*r tssaawalstossdi