Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 14, Number 17, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 20 October 1883 — Page 6

c.

ftS

Oi

s- -im

A

&

THE MAIL

A

PAPER FOR THE PEOPLE.

Her Mother's Sin

BY THE AUTHOR OF

'"Dora Thome," "Lady Damer* Secret," "The Shadow of a sin," "Love lor a Day," etc.

CHAPTER XLYI.

"DYING OF SEOBBT POISONINO. Sir James Hudson felt that he conld not be mistakes it was impossible. Like all baman beings, he was apt to err bat he bad never made a mistake in bis profession—at least, not such a serious one as this would De. He reviewed in bis own mind all the symptoms, all the evidence be bad beard that he could ap to the case. There was but one solution possible—the young lord was dying no natural death it was neither fever nor atrophy that was cutting his life so short. He could not be mistaken it was poison —slow, secret poison—that was sapping the young life and laying bim low.

At first he thought that he must be mistaken but by dint of patient investigation be convinced himself that he was right. During part of his success ful career Sir James bad made an especial study of poisons. He had written several very valuable papers on secret poisoning, and be felt sure that be reconized the very poison that bad been used. It was a combination oftwodrugs taken singly tbey hurt no one—blended, they made one of the most fatal and deadly poisons. It was no new discovery this fatal combination bad been well known in the days of Ceesar Borgia. At more than one state trial for secret poisoning the use of it had been mentioned but, for obvious reasons, all public notice of it was avoided. So far as be knew, it was mentioned only in one work, and that was a very rare one— "Wilson on Poisons." He remembered that he had been strnck with the ease with which the poison might be used. It could never be traced, and it was long In causing death. There was deadly pains, there was no sharp anguish—simply a slow, gradual sapping of life, a diminution of force, until death came painlessly to the sufferer's aid. Some raw symptoms were peculiar to the use of the poison—a glassy film over the eyes, a strange appearance of the pupils, a blue tint about the lips, and all these symptoms Sir James found in the young heir of Poole. He was dying from the effects this poison. Sir James bad arrived most conclusively at this decision, but for the present he said nothing. The chances were that, if ho mentioned it. there would be no hope of discovering by whom it had been administered.

He set himself to think out the matter. This young lord bad returned to his home after being mourned as dead. Now to whose interest was it that be should die? Who would gain by his death? Neither the earl, his father, nor Lady Marda, his aunt: the idea was out of the question. And it certainly could not be to the gain of the bedutiful girl who was in such deep trouble about him. The two persons who would gain by his death were Lady Ryeford ana her daughter but it was quite impossible to suspect them. He was even shocked that aucb an idea should, for a moment, have presented Itself to him. Who could it be? Sir James was at a loss. He hdsitated fpr a time whether he should tell the oldeari or not but &e ftaredthat, in Us present state of body and mind, it would be a fatal blow to him to know that the life of his son was in peril by the hand of a secret assassin. He felt afraid to trust even Lady Marcia. It would be better for a time to await the course of events. The young lord would be safe, because he would be In trustworthy hands. On the arrival of the nurses BO one else would be permitted to enter the room.

They came that evening and were duly Installed. Sir James tola Lady Marcia, and desired her to inform the whole household thai he took the case into his «wn hand*. For the present no one was to enter the sick-room, and everything that the invalid took was to be prepared in the ante-room by the nurses, under the immediate supe intendence of the dootor himself. These directions were naturally a source of wonder to the household, who were quite at a loss to anderstand tbem.

On one person's ears they fell like a death-knell. Lady Ryeford knew that the crime was discovered: she only wondered why Sir James had pot proclaimedit instantly, aloud. Then she began to realise that he kept the matter secret in the hope of discovering the criminal. She sat with pale face and wildly beating heart while the household were gathered together in the drawing room discussing Sir James' probable success, and counting the anxious moments.

Daphne alone was absent. She could better endure the suspense alone. She had begged that she might be left undisturbed each minute as it passed was laden with the anguish of hours.

Sir James had stated that if by dint of unwearied attention, the youn* lord lived until midnight there was a chance for him. Only a slight chance, it was true still It existed. If then he slept and had no relapse, they might hope. It was only eight In the evening when he told tbem, so that Ihey bad before them lour hours more of lntepse anxiety. wonld have left the she bad dared to do so, for it was a piteous scene. The earl utterly .prostrated by this—to him—terrible blow, kneeling by him war to console and that she would rather have had tosu: ther than witness hearUbrokenf than.

Lady Ryeford room if

lay on a conch, Irene kneeling by him and doing all in her po aoothe him. She told!

eble.MlurSaol

any physical pain rat thf angoisA that Lady Madden

Vi .j

m4 mm

tdy ftjurdla Mad,4n dbeni Bible bn this Had she been sitting by the deathbed, the time could not have seemed more solemn to her every now and then she stopped to read a verse then paced gently up and down the room. She could not cry—the fountain of her tears seemed dry.

Lady Ryeford sat with an open book in her bands. At times she spoae to her daughter and to the earl but her voice had a strange Intonation, and the face bent over her book wore a strange eatprettion. Would he live or die? Midnight would decide hi* fata, Stiewasso utterly self-engrossed that she thought only of herself? The white-haired man whose heart was all but breaking, the fair young girl alone with her sorrow

the young lord dying of terrible exhaust tion and weakness, aid not trouble hen she hardly thought of them, but only of her own fate—whether she would be mother of the Countess of Cradoo or not. That touched her by midnight she would know tl« worst. It seemed to her tnai the time wonld never come.

Then she resolved, in a strange incoherent fashion, that, if all went well, she would try to atone tor her horrible erime. She wonld be good to the poor ahe would adopt and ednaats orphan

children she wonld build a church And presently she found herself with team raining down her face and her whole body shaking with sobs.

Lady Marcia bent down to kits her, ihinktng that she was weeping from sympathy with them but Lady Ryeford shrank from the innocent cares as from the sting of a serpent. "Do not cry," said Lady, Marcia. "Heaven will give him back to us and the gentle trusting words smote her like the sharp edge of a sword.

Lady Ryeford wondered, as she watched the hands of the clock, whether she would have been a different woman if she had had better training. Then her attention was arrested by what Lady Marcia was saying to Irene. "Sir James told me himself, that if he bad been one half honr later, Bertie would have been dead."

The words seemed to fall on her heart like molten lead. Anothor dose, one a little stronger, and by this time her daughter's succession would have been

Sbe

uite safe! Her brain burned like fire. could have screamed aloud as she looked on the patient watchers. To them the life of the boy they loved was all in all to her the splendid inheritance for her daughter was everything. It seemed to her that her feet clave to the ground, that her whole body was becoming rigid.

Half-past ten chimed from the clock on the mantelpiece. Half-past ten! He was still living and if he lived until midnight, the danger would be past!

It was like a dream when she looked up and saw the doctor standing in the doorway. Surely, oh, surely ne had come to say that the lad was deadl It must be so it could not be otherwise! Little did it matter how he had died Irene would be mistress of Poole! But he was slow of speech, this horrible man! She felt the impulse of a tigress to fly at him and make him speak, "No change."

What did he mean? Why did the old earl gasp and shudder? why should Irene wring her hands? Fool, when his death would make her mistress of Poole! No cbsnge! She looked at the dootor, at his anxious face and compressed lips. The room seemed to whirl round her. One hour and a half more of that horri ble suspense! But he must die—he must die!

A low horrible laugb sounded through the room. They were all startled, and looked at each other, wondering whence it could have come. But Lady Ryeford recovered herself in a moment. "What was that?" asked Sir James hurriedly. "It sounded like the laugh of a madwoman."

Lady Marcia thought it must have beep the wailing of the wind. "I have not a minute to spare," said the doctor, "and 1 have some very urgent direotisnB to give. Can I speak with you, Lady Marcia?" "Alone?" she asked. "No," replied Sir James. "What have to say will concern all."

CHAPTER XLVII.

"WHOEVER THAT MAY BE, IT IS THE POISONER." Sic James Hudson looked very griive. The sound of Lady Ryeford's wild laugh had startled bim, for he felt that, if ever the laugh of a madwoman had fallen on his ears, he had just heard such a laugh. After a slight pause, he said "Lord Hyde lies in a half-conscious state, and we are giving him stimulants of one kind or another every few minutes. As I have said before, if wo can keep life in bim until midnight,and then by the blessing of Heaven he. should •leep, he will, I think, recover. But we shall want tb'e utmost care. The slight^ eat noise awakening him suddenly might cause his death, so I gest that the whole household should retire early and preserve profound slldnce. Have no fires, no lights we cannot be too careful. If he sleeps and all goes well, I shall not send for you—you will know that no news is good news bat, if I see at midnight that matters are going wrong, and that my patient is losing instead of gaining ground, I will sena for you to bid him farewell. "You will impress upon all, will you not, Lady Mar da, the need of absolute quiet "I will," she replied. "Doctor, may I keep watch with you?" "i think not, Lady Marcia. It will be better that we should be quite-done. You may trust to my sending for yon. If, just as he was falling psleep, a sigh, a breath, aroused him, I should never forgive myself. I shall be alone with him the nurses will be within hearing of my bell but in such a crisis I will trust to no one but myself."

He went up to the earl and held oat his hand. "Good night, my lord," he said "pat your trust in Heaven. I hope, when the morning comes, tour boy will be given back to you." "Have you any hope?" asked the earl, his eves aim with tears. es, I have a faint hope," replied the "I think the chances are In is favor."

What impulse suddenly caused him to look at Lady Ryeford Her eyee were fixed on him, and there was a lurid light in tbeir depths, So strange that he was startled and shocked.' Why should she watch him in that eager, intent fashion? "That is the woman who laughed," he !«xt *iOi said to himself but the next feoment he recoiled from the tile#, forhe approached him with calm face mad outstretched hand. He surely mart have imagined that strange look on her feco -i-her nerves must be pnstru •'Qpod night, a low deir voice "oh

laid, In dgood

wishes go with yon." "Good night, Lady Ryeford," ha retamed, little thinking how and when ha /should s«yher *R»in. fjJT

As he left till room, TJaay Marcia went to the earl. "Thane," she Aid, "you must not be left alone. Let Irene and me stay with u. You could not sleep if you went irefis a^goop fire in your ng-raOmt we^will/draw the sofa rfeaf it, and you shall lie down until midnight is part then, if we hearnoth ing.we shall hope all is well." "Yon are always thoughtful tor me, Marcia," be saldi "I was indeed afraid to be left alone."

Lady Marcia left tbem for a few minutes to give her orders, which the butier promised to aee carried out.

As if by magic, every sound In the vast mansion was hashed wad the thoughts of every soul in the place were centered In the room where Lord Hyde lay.

Will you come with oat" Lady Marcia asked Lady RyefOrd. "No, 1 prefer to go to my own room," she replied.

Yon should take something," added Lady Marcia. "Your hands burn, and your face is like fire."

She shrank from the kind gentle glance. "No, thank yon," she replied "I am worn out with anxiety. I will say goodnight and may we have good news in the morning!7

Lady Ryeroid went to the trembling

"Too wm pray to* »y poerboyt"

"I will," she answered, looking with unfathonable eyes into his face. Last of all she bent down to kiss the dark beautiful face of her daughter. "Do your best to comfort him, Irene, she said. "I fear be will not see his face again."

So she passed out of her sight. A few minutes later profound silence reigned. The earl's dressing-room was at some distance from the room where Lord Hyde slept, and there he and his relatives remained the earl lay on the sofa, Irene knelt by his side, and Lady Marcia sat in the great arm-chair.

It was a wiim night the moon shone only fitfully through the clouds, and the stars gave but little light. The great stillness strnck awe into the hearts of the watchers. ,,

Sir James Hudson had seen that all his wishes were carefully executed. The bed-room in which the young lord lay possessed great advantages as a sickroom. An ante-room led from the corri dor into it, and on the other side was a large dressing-room. Here the doctor stationed the nurses, ready in a moment if he wanted them. In the ante-room everything was prepared, in Ihe event of the young lord requiring anything.

He believed—nav, he could have sworn—that he had locked the door leading from the ante-chamber to the corridor and be had given the nurses strict orders to keep it locked, or all his precautions would be in vain.

Sir James sat intent upon bis duties. On a little standby his side were various cupsand glasses, from one of which every few minutes the doctor administered a teaspaonful to the patient.

Eleven struck, then half-past. The profound silence of the house was unbroken. "Lady Marcia has carried out my orders well he said to himself."

The grave tension of his face relaxed he felt more hope. The beat of the languid pulse was stronger there was a slight return of color to the white face, a slight movement in the weak hands. He had greater hope. Now if he could sleep!

As the night advanced the silence seemed to deepen. The doctor was a man of strong nerve. He had never feared death in any of its terrible forms, but the pale face on the white pillow, the dim shadows of the large room, lighted only by the solitary shaded lamp, impressed him greatly.

A quarter to twelve. Heaven be praised, there was no relapse op to the present! The last spoonful of cordial had been eagerly swallowed, and the white lips haa parted for more the pulse was surely stronger, the face surely of less ashen tint. Ah, please Heaven, the old earl would have his son back.

Hark What was that A sound so faint that he could hardly distinguish it. The next instant dead silence again prevailed.

He administered another spoonful of the cordial, and then he heard the sound once more. This time there could not be a doubt that some one was in the ante-room,the door of which he felt sure he had locked. In an instant he had touched one of the nurses on the arm, holding his finger to his lips in token of silence, and the next minute she had noiselessly tsken her post by the sick man's side, and the doctor showed her which glass was to be used next.

Then came the sound again, but it was so faint that the nurse did not hear it. The doctor opened the door of the anteroom softly, and then closed it behind

The xpom '%i„s ity^darkness, bat he seemed to feetsome cme was there. Then he beard a light rustle and some one passed ont at the door. Witb lightning speed he followed. Out in the cbrridor a fitful gleam of moonlight fell at that moment, and he saw plainly enough the figure o! a woman. "Whoever that may be, it is the poisoner," be said to himself.

The figure seeded to fly down the broad oorridor but he followed rapidly. Ah! would be ever forget the horror of that moment? The woman reached the top of the broad staircase, and then— whether one foot oaught. in the carpetr whether she missed a step, he never kne#—he heard the terrible thud of a falling body, a half smothered groan, and saw by tbe fitfnl light a dark figure lying in the hall below. Then all was again profound silence.

The doctor's heart stood almost still, but he did not delay—he hurried rapidly down the long staircase.

He could do nothing in the darkness. So he made his way tack to tbe anteroom: candles and matchea were there. Happily no one else bad beard tbe terrible aound, tbe thud of a heavily-falling human body..

CHAPTER XLVIII.

"NKVM A BRIGHTER JCNB DAY." It was a shock, bnt hardly a surprise to Sit James, when, on raisins tbe worn an'a bead from tbe ground, he sarw the faos of Lady Ryeford. The flying figure had been strangely familiar to him. Her wild look, the mad laugh, {came back to hia mind. He tried to raise her bat one glance at her face showed him that ahe was dead. Death must have been instantaneous. She had had no time to suffer or to repent. Then he saw clenched in her right

Indeed so mis­

take! It waa'a amallphal which she held in. her fingers. He took oat tbe stopper and amelled the contents, and then he knew in very troth that tbe wretched secret poisoner lay before him. Thia waa the mixture which from first he felt sure had been used to deadly purpose. He placed it in his pocket, uncertain yet as to what he should do. The face of the dead woman seemed to plead tor mercy.

Tbe next atep to be taken was to find Lady Marda. She had told him where her loom was, If he had occasion to send for her.

He laid the heavy head on tbe stair, and hastened to tbe sick-room to look at tbe patient. Surely be waa better! He had fallen into a deep sleep his breathing was now natural^tbe livid pallor and tbe blue tint of tbe lips bad disappeared. If any faith waa to be placed in the signs, tbe young heir waa saved.

He went away, noiselessly closing tbe door, relieved from one great anxiety, but oppransd by loothor*

He pasaed on to Lady Mania's chamber bat there waa no answer to his summons. Then it struck him that she in all probably sitting up with earl. Strong man as be was, he shuddered aa he passed through the dark corridors on his way to tbe earl's room, when he thought of the dead woman lying at tbe toot of tbe stairs.

Tbe door was ajar, and he saw tbe earl lying on the oonch, with doeed eyea. Irene #aa kneeling

ght sounded

from the dock in tbe tower. '•Twelve!" said the eld earl. "Now weahallknow whether my boy is dying or will Bra."

There waa a movement at the door, end they all three alerted. cry raw to

Lady Marda's lips but Irene in a on* ment had placed her hand over thei* "It is good newa I bring yo«/' said Sir James—"good news. Low? Hyde is sleeping, and is better." Tb*n, looking at Irene, and remembering what lay at tbe foot of the stairs, he shuddered. "You may rest 'in peace," he added to the earl, "you may dismiss all your fears, for I believe your con will recover. I would not bid yoa hope unless I had good reason. I believe that with the morning sunlight he will be given back to yoa. Miss Ryeford"—turning to Irene—"it will be as well for you to remain witb Lord Cradoc I want Lady Marcia to bslp me."

They left the room together, and, when they stood in the corridor, she said to him: "Spare me one me one moment while I tell Daphne the good newa." "1 cannot spare you one moment," he said gravely. "Something very terrible h|g happened, and I want yoa to help

"Not sarely to Lord Hyde?" she cried. "No. Lord Hyde is better, and is sleeping, as I have told you his life now depones mainly on quiet. This Is another matter. Lady Ryeford has had a terrible accident." "Lady Ryeford?" cried the astonished lady. "Why, ahe is the last person in the world of whom I should have thought! Lady Ryeford?" "Yes," he replied. "Now, remember, tbe slightest noise may cost Lord Hyde his life. Bear thst in mind, and you will be able to control yourself." "Isball not forget," said Lady Marcia. "Tell me the worst at once." "Lady Ryeford has fallen down the stairs—down the grand staircase that leads to tbe ball—and I am afraid she is terribly injured." "What a fearful thing!" oried Lady Marcia, in dire consternation. "Let me go to her at once, Sir James." "By all means that is why I called you. But stay. Lady Marcia—can you bear a further stock?" "Yes," she replied calmly. "I am grieved to tell you that Lady Ryeford is dead." "Dead?" she repeated in dismay and they stood looking at each other in silence. What shall we do?'' she gasped at last. "You have two trustworthy servants— Mrs. Moore and Grey. WiU you wake tbem?" "How did it happen?" she asked. "Simply enough. She was prol going down stairs and missed her footing." "What should she be going down stairs for at midnight?" asked Lady Marcia. "What indeed! Being in the anteroom, and hearing a slight noise, I hastened to see who it was. Lady Ryeford was at tbe top of the stairs, in the very fust of descending the first stair, when she missed her footing and fell to tbe bottom." "Then you saw her fall," interrogated Lady Marda.

VI saw her fall," he repl'ed, "and I shall never forget tbe sight or the sound while I live. I need scai cely tell you that I hastened after her but she was dead." ".What a horrible thing! I will not give way, Sir James but the news has taken my strength away." She leaned against the wall, so white and powerless that he feared she would faint but after a few minutes, she rallied, and said to him, "I will call the servants now, Sir

"Impress upon them that there must be no nose," be said* "We have the living to think of as well as tbe dead." "Do not consider me foolish," said Lady Marda, "but, Sir James, I am afraid to go through all those long dark passages alone. Will you come with me?"

Soon after the two astonished and terrified servants stood with-Lady Marda and tbe doctor at tbe foot of tbe stairs, where the dead body lay.

There was little enough said when they raised her. Mrs. Moore told tbem that Lady Ryeford often went down to the the library at night in search of books, for she was a bad sleeper. Sir JAmes said nothing he had not made up his mind yet what course to pursue. He knew only too well with what deadly intent she bad gone into the ante-room with tbe fatal bottle. She must have been puzzled on finding the place in utter darkness then hearing him, and fearing detection, she had fled away, not thinking whether she waa going, only seeking to avoid being found with the very bottle in her handa. In her hurry ahe had slipped and fallen. Whether be should reveal this Sir James could not yet determine.

They laid the body of the hapeless lady on her- own bed, and tbe doctor expressed a wish that Irene should not be told tbe fatal truth until morning. Mrs. Moore called one of the maid-servants and while the young lord slept the sleep that was to restore him to health, while tbe earl prayed, and Irene read from tbe great Book of Comfort, tbe pitying women performed the last sad offices for one whose violent passiona bad lead her to an awful death.

It was a strange contrast. In on# part of tbe grand old manaion grim Death reigned aapreme in another the Angel of Life waa wooing a striken creature nek to health.

Lady Marda persuaded tbe ear* to go to bed Bertie waa better, and he would aee him in tbe morning. She made Irene alao go to her room a few hours rest and sleep would strengthen her and render her better able to bear tbe coming blow. Sbe herself never thought of rest. She had had no great regard or Affection for Lady Ryeford, whose character she bad not admired but tbe horror of that awful death waa a ahock to her.

None of the initiates at Poole vrtll ever foiget tbe dawn of tbe following morning—the tbe thrill of delight that went through the boose when it waa known that the young lord waa better and would live, the thrill of horror with which all beard of the terrible aeddent that had load to Lady Ryeford's death. Tbey broke tbe news uently to tbe earl, who was overcome at bearing it. Daphne trembled when Lady Marda told her. "How strange it seems!" sbe said. "Last night one life waa given tons, and another taken."

But Daphne forgot all sorrow what she looked once more on the face of tbe man sbe loved.

Lord Hyde waa not told tbe newa until some weeks after tbe funeral—not, in fait, until he had left Poole for a time, with all its sorrowful memoriae behind hint.

Irene's grief was terrible to witness. It waa ail the greater from tbe remembrance that there bad been times when ahe bad been impatient witb ber mother, that sbe had failed in obedience and docility to ber, that she bad been unable to aay a word of farewell. "If I conld bat have knownP rite moaned again and again. "Ob, I*dy Marda, if we ooaid bat foresee things!"

When Sir Jamee beard tboee words and witnessed tbe grief of tbe girl, be decided tbat be wonld keep aflenosoon-1 earning tbe crime. It haa been JP*evented, and the poor sinner was wad no good could be gained by revealing it. Tbe knowledge of it would brMK bar danghter'a heart and embitter ber whole Ufeu If lady ByeCerd baa lived, we woold have felt tbat ahe moat be

punished dead, he would screen her memory. Sir James destroyed the only trace of her crime—the fatal bottle. There was an inquest, at which he, with 'Lady Marda and the two servants, gave evidenoe, and the verdict was "Acddental death."

Lady Ryeford was buried in the -jurchyarfl at Abbey Dale. A white marble monument tells of the deep regret felt for her. The lips of the only man who knew the Becret of her life and death were closed forever in this world.

The greatest sympathy waa expressed on all bands for tbe family—above all, for Irene. Arran bad hastened to her the moment he heard the news, and had done his brat to console her. Happily, no idea of her mothera sin ever entered her bead if there had, shame would have well-nigh killed her.

When Lord Hyde was well enough to travel, he accompanied his father to Italy. Irene's marriage was postponed, and the earl said now tbat, when the time of mourning had expired, he should like the two marriages to take place together*and the time he appointed was the June of the following year.

country dpu ble wedding Abbey Dale—of the sweet, fair-haired girl who became Lady Hyde, and of the beautiful bride with the dark face and eyea, noble and atately, evidently so deeply in love with the grave, haudsome hustMnd who walked by her side. No one hat* yet been able to dedde which was tbe lovelier.

All tbe friends of the family wei% there—Mr. Rigby, thankful that this episode in the Cradoc family had ended so happily Sir Trevor, heart-broken at losing Daphne, but determined to endeavor to find some one just like her and others. Even Claude Lorraine Erlecote had left his beloved pictures to be present, and was an object of great interest to everyone, especially to Aunt Matcia. Not one friend was forgotten.

There was never a brighter June day, never a greater profusion of flowers, deeper love or greater happiness. The earl seemed to have grown young again. Yet, in the midst of their happiness, they did not forgot their dead—the grave in tbe old churchyard, or that iu the depths of the green waters-

Three yeais have passed since tbea, and on a bright June day a great festivity takes place at Poole—the christening of the little heir, whom his parents have called Alaric, after the beloved dead. Once more relative and friends are all gathered together—the earl, with the sunshine of happiness on his face Lady Marda, beaming witb content Sir James Hudson, who has given himself a few days' holiday Mr. Rigby, to whom the birth of an heir to Poole has been an event of the utmost importance Arran Darleigh, now one of tbe most famous men in England, and his beautiful wife.

Their happiness is complete. On tbat day Lord Hyde persuades Mrs. Darleigh to accept the ola Manor House, and she is both pfcasdd and amused with ber new title of, "mistross of West Lynn." Daphne never tires of exhibiting tbe accomplishments of her woaderful litte son, and the etel never wearies of admiring them. Later on sbe mentions tbat tbe famous Erleoote Gallery has been opened, and tbey discuss its wonders.

Sir James stands apart watching the gay groups. He knows the whole story now of the earl's choice, and he feels that if the responsibility of the dedsion bad lain with him he oould not have chosen. He watches Daphne, with ber glorious ha|r, her sunny, blue, love-lit eyes her- long, blue areas sweeping the ground, ana a knot of white roses in her Delt—fair, sweet and true. Sbe playa with her cooing baby she laughs with the earl. He watches Irene, too, noble and queenly in her dark lovelineas, a world ot passionate lore in her dark eyes, of poetry in her face, talking so earnestly that Mr. Rigby, to whom she is speaking, listens as to in oracle, and he thinks of her mother's sin. He rejoices that he kept tbe terrible secret.

Tbe sunlight flashes Over the gleaming river Wray the birds sing,the bees murmur to the flowers, tbe wind whispers to the leave*, and Lady Marda thinks of her strange dream' wherein all the sweet voices of nature called "Daphne, Countess of Cradoc!"

THK BHD.

NEXT WEEK.

Farjeon's New Novel.

Next week'a issue of tbe Saturday Evening Mail will begin the publication of B. L. Farjeon'| new atory, "Mike Patc^ett a Romance of tbe Gold Fields." It is now appearing in thia country in only two other papers besides Tbe Mail, from the author's advance proof sheets, and la the latest and most characteriatic production of his powerful pen.

No writer of romance, since the death of Charles Dickens, haa abown himself aacb an original delineator of character and ao life-like in the personality of hia sketches as Mr. Farjeon, and hia repute tion has placed him at tbe bead of living noveliata. Hie transition from tbe stem tension of a dramatic situation to a touch of tearful pathos la Witb him as sadden as the April abower, and in this Ilea one of tbe chief char ma of his writings, Every reader of thia new story will thank Tbe Mail for tbe rich and rare treat.

Asujaum*HAM, MASS., Jan.. 14, 1880. I have been very aick over two years. They ell gave me up as paat cure. I tried tbe most alcillful physicians, bnt tbey did not reach tbe worst part. Tbe lungs and heart would fill upevery night and distress me, and my throat was very bad. I told my children I never ahould die in peace until 1 bad tried Hop •Bitters. I have taken two bottles. Tbey have helped me very much indeed. 1 am now well. There were a lot of sick folks bete who have seen bow tbey have helped me, and they used tbem and are cured, and feel as tbanktul as I do that there ia so valuable medidne made.

MRS. JULIA G. GUSHING.

THE

first real skin cure ever discovered

was Dr. Benson's Skin Care. It cares all rough* and scaly skin diseases and makes tbe akin smooth and healthy. It ban ornament to any lady's toilet.

PARAL YSIS, NINE TEARS. •After having suffered for 9 years with paralysis," save Mr. Joseph Yates of I Patersoh, N. Jersey, "I waa cored by Samarium Nervine? Mr. Yateaaotborige this statement. Yoar druggist keeps it. Pit. Better and

Moore's PanieT*»l«Bjy"

Bneklea'i Arnica Salve. The greatest medicine wonder of th world. Warranted to speedily cure Bora Bruises, Guts, Ulcers, Salt Rheum, Fever Sores, C&noers, Piles, Chilblains. Corns, Tette Chapped Hands, and- all skin eruptions guaranteed to cur® in every instance, money refunded. 25 cents per box. Fo sale by Cook & Bell and Quliok A Co. (tf.)

Now is the time

To treat Catarrh of long standing. Ely Cream Balm reaches obstinate cases, where all other remedies fail. It ia not a liquid or snuff and is easily applied. Price 60c.

Catarrh and Hay Fever.

For twenty years was a I sufferer froa* Catarrh of the head and throat in a very aggravated form, and during the summer with Hay Fever. I procured a bottle Ely's Cream Balm and after a few applications received dedded benefit—waa cured by one bottle. Have had no return of the complaint. CHARLO PARKBB, Waverly, N. Y. (Price cents per bottle.)

Mr. A. Nichols,

Of this place, says he suffered froi Catarrh for years. He purchased a bottle of Ely's Cream Balm of us. He now almost cured, and saysyouean not recommend it to highly, we are selling more of Ely's Cream Balm than all other catarrh remedies, can hardl keep a supply on hand.—EVKRS BROS. Druggists, independence, Iowa.

Oar Present, Blessings, gOur blessings are not appreciated uhV we are deprived of them. Most notabl among them is health, the lack of whic magnifies our other burdens. A hackincough, a severe cold or any throat lung disease is very troublesome b«t all these may be quickly and permanen ly removed by Dr. Bigelow's Positiv Cure. Trial bottles free, of Gulick Co.

Bock Ci»nly Cough Cure. Warranted to Cure or moneyrefun Coughs, Colds, Hoaiseness, Throat an Lung troubles, (also good for children. Rock Candy Cough Cure contains th« healing properties of pure white Roci Candy with Extracts of Roots ar Herbs. Only 25c. Large bottles $1. cheapest to by. For sale by Guliok A Co

Positive Onr» for l*lles.

To the people of this Countrv would say we have been given tb Agency of Dr. Marchisi's Italian Pi* Ointment—warranted to Cure or moni. refunded—Internal, External, Blind Bleeding or Itching Piles. Price 60c. Box. Forsale by Gulick A Co.

THE

SATURDAY EVENING MAIL

Is sent to any address

3 Months for 50 cents..,

Addreefl, P. S. WESTFALl!^ Terre Haute, Ind.

Protessional Cards. E. GLOVER,

|Oorner of Eighth and Poplar Streets^ CALLS PROMPTLY ATTENDED. aGrTBLEPHONK.

R. w. C. EICH ELBERGEB,

OfcoltMt.'nnd Anrlat.

Room 18, Savings Bank Building. .£*. Terre Haute, 1^ Offloe hours,

T, KICHAJUMON. a. w. VAH VAIOAB RICHARDSON 4 VA» ^ALZAJ

DENTISTS.

OVTICB—Seuth west owner Fifth and Mr streets, over National State Bank (entrant on Fifth street. Communication by Te? phone.

GW.

BALLEW,

DENTIST,

•Mee, Mala Street, ew •Id esafffiloaory atawl. TKRRK HAUTE. IND. 1

Oan be round in o«oe night a»H ox* 1

CO.

LINCOLN, »EMT1W

Office, 19% B. Sixth, opposite P. I), traoting and artlOoial teeth •poolaltiew, work warranted.

jpRANK PRATT,

hapMftwr aaid Dealer la

ITALIAN MARBLE AND GRAfr

MONUMENTS,

tit&taMXj, TaaeSf OOR. FIFTH AND WALNUT Tg&ftS HA PTE. IMP.

SAVE MIOVB

Terre Haut« Eye Inflrmar,

R. D. HALEY, J, E. DUNBA of New York, of St. Louis, late of T^ton^ Winebeste will treat all diseases of tbe Eye, 10 days,

suited at all home during the day. City ferencea: J.T.Mustek, drugjdst, next doof port office. N. H. McFerrin'.lleaJerln agri fund implements, west side public souHiram Foults, grocerman, corner 1st Main. a

•JHSWKS