Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 20, Number 7, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 10 August 1889 — Page 2

•v.- pzyrffi?

CHAPTER XLIL

GEOBOK IS SZZH TO LJLXJOU} Ida and her father reacbud the vestibule to And Edward Carney standing with bis face to the mantelpiece and nervously toying with soma curiosities upon it He was, as osual, dressed with great care, and his face, though pole and worn from the effect* of agitation of mind, looked, if anything, handsomer than ever. As soon as he heard them com'rig, which, owing to bis partial deafness be did not do till they were quite close to him. he turned round with a start, and a sadden flush of color came upon his face.

The squire shook bauds with him in a solemn sort of way, like people do when they meet at a funeral, and Ida barely touched his outstretched fingers with her own.

A few random remarks followed about the weather, which really for onco in a way was equal to the conversational strain pat upon it, bat at length these died away, and there came an awful pause. It was broken at length by the squire, who, standing with bis back to the Ore, his eyes (lied upon the wall opposite, after much bumming and hawing, delivered himself thus: "1 understand, Mr. Cossey, that you have com) to bear my daughter's final decision on the matter of the proposal of marriage which yoa have made and renewed to her. Now, of course, this is a very important question, very important indeed, and it is one with which I cannot presume even to seem to interfere. Therefore I shall, without comment, leave my daughter to speak for herself." "One moment before she does so," Cossey interrupted, drawing indeed but a poor augury of success from Ida's icy looks. "I have come to renew my offer and to take my final answer, and I beg Miss de la Molle to consider bow deep and sincere must be that affection which bos endured through so many rebuffs. I know, or at the least I fear, that 1 do not occupy the place in her feelings that I should wish to, but I look to time to change this at any rate, I am willing to take my .chance. As regards money, I repeat the o£fer that I have already made" "There, I should not say too much about jfchat," broke In the squire, impatiently. "Oh. why not!" said Ida, in bitter sarcasm. "Mr. Cossdy knows it is one of the best arguments with our sex. 1 presumo that, as a preliminary to the renewal of the engagement, the persecution of my father which is *beteg cajxtod on by your lawyer will cease." -"Acutely."

And sho stopped dead, and stared at the glass door as though she saw a ghost Both her father and Edward Cossey followed the motion of her eyes, and this was what they saw: Up tbo steps canto Col. Quaritchand George. Both were pale and weary looking, but tho former was at least clean. As for George, this oould not be said. His bead was still adorned with the rod night cap, his hands wero cut and dirty, and on his clothes was an unlimited supply of incrusted filth. "What tho dickens"—began tho squire, and at that moment George, who was leading, knocked at tho door. "You can't come in now," roorod the squire. "Don't you see that we ore engaged "But wo most oomo In, squire, begging your pardon," answered George, with determination, as he opened the door. "We've got that to say as wont keep." "I tell you that it most keep, sir," mid the old gentleman, working himself into a rage. "Am 1 not to be allowed a moment's privacy in my own house! I wonder at your conduct, CoL Quaritch, in forciug your presence upon me when I tell you that it is not wanted." "1 am sure that 1 apologise, Mr. de la Molle," began tho colonel, utterly taken aback, "but what I have to say is"-—--"The best way that you can apologise is bj withdrawing," answered the squire, with majesty. "I shall bo most happy to hear what you have to say on another occasion.1* 'Oh, squire, squire, dont be such a fttle.

u.. g. «**.

toIdahMberfa»

BY H. RIDER HAGGARD, ft

If tli& engagement is not renewed,

the money will, of course, be called lnf "Aly lawyers advise that it should be," be answered, sullenly "but, see here, Ida, you may make your own terms about money. Marriage, after all, is practically a matter of bargaining, and I am not going to stand out about the prloo." "You are really most generous,* went on Ida, in the same bitter tono, the irony of which mado her father wince, for he understood her mood better than did her lover. "I only regret that I cannot appreciate the genorosity more than I do. But it is at least in my power to give oa the return whioh you deserve. Bo I can no longer hesitate, but once and for all*-*—•

M.1 M» ft,

awe. 1! looked at her. and saw that her adventurers. «yt» wore Hashing and ber breast heaving, and he j.nvo wav. "Oh, very wdl, since my daughter insist* on it, prny eouio in," ami be bowed "If socb an intrusion falls in with your ideas of decency, it t* (or mo to complain." "I acocpt your invitation," answered Harold, looking very angry, "because I have something to fvay which you must bear, and nt onco. No, thank yon, 1 will stand. How, Mr. de la Molle, it is this, wonderful as it may seem. It has been my fortune to discover tho treasure hidden by Sir James de la MoUo in the year 104&*

Xbero was a universal gasp of astooish-

'""Wbs.tr said the squire. "Why, I ihought thst Uw whtrie thing was a myth." t*»a* Hain't, sir,"said George, with a fly smile. Vos Tve sets* It." |Si«^«nkta*acbair. is the amoantr she asked, in a km,

"I have been utwble tocak*)*t» exactly, brt, v»liasi T. b.mod, itcdktr fifty A poowaa, estfenated an the value of ma of and Ha sd out a hs **al it

inhw'

CM** realising w* i^entof WW** i""*

"IfhoaWnoUdkiw elated, Mr. a* U* sneer "lor il

"Ah," said

"Bat I have," said the ookxrel, quietly. "If I remember right, the last of the original De la Molles left a will in which be specially devised treasure hidden by his father to your ancestor. That this is the identical treason I am fortunately in a position to prove by parchment and he laid the writing that he had found with the gold upon the table. "Quite right—quite right," said the squire "that will take it out of the custom." "Perhaps the solicitor to the treasury may hold a different opinion," said Cossey, with another sneer.

Just then Ida took her band from ber face. There was a dewy look about her eyes, and the last ripples of a happy smile lingered round the corners of her mouth. "Now, that we have heard what CoL Quarith bad to say," she said, in her softest voice, and addressing ber father, "there is no reason why we should not finish our business with Mr. Cossey."

Here Harold and George turned to go, but she waved them back imperiously, and began speaking before any one could interfere, taking up her speech where she had broken it off when she caught sight of the colonel and George coming up the steps. "1 can no longer hesitate," she said, "but onoe and for all I decline to marry you, Mr. Oossey, and 1 hope that I shall never see your faoe again."

At this announcement the bewildered squire put bis band to his bead. Edward Cossey staggered visibly and rested himself against tho table, while George murmured, audibly: "That's a good Job." "Listen, said Ida, said Ida, rising from her chair, ber eyes flashing as the thought of ail the shaqie and agony she bad undergone rose In ber mind—"listen, Mr. Cossey"—and she pointed her finger at him— "thin is the history of our connection. Some months ago I was so foolish, taking you for a gentleman, as to ask your help in the matter of the mortgages which your bank was calling in. You then practically mode terms that if it should at any time be your wish I should become engaged to you and I, having no option, accepted. Then, in tho interval, while it was inconvenient to you to enforce your rights, I gave my affection elsewhere. But when you, having deserted the lady who stood in your way—no, do not interrupt me I know it, I know it all, I know it from her own lips— camo forward and claimed my promise, I was forced to assent. Then a loop bole of escape presented itself, and I availed myself of it. What followed! You again became possessed of power over my father and this place, you insulted the man I loved, you resorted to every expedient that the law would allow to torture my father and myself. You set your lawyers upon us like dogs upon a hare, you hold ruin over us, and again and again you offered me money, as much money as I wished, if only I would Bell myself to you. Anil then you bided your time, leaving despair to do its work. I saw the toils closing round us. I knew that if I did not yield my father would be driven from his home in his old age, and that the place he loved better than his life would pass to strangerswould pass to you No, father, don ot stop me, I will spoak mc mind. And at last I de- ^ycr termined that, costt what it might, I would yield. Whether I could have carried out my determination God only knows. I almost think that I should have killed myself upon my maiTiage day. I made up my mind. Not five minutes ago the very words were upon my lips that would have sealed my fate, when deliverance came. And now go. I have done with you. Your money shall be

By this time Ida had recovered txr 'f. „x ___ 8be steeimxl to fed that ber lover had a- .7^

thing to say that concerned berdeeply-proh-ably she »vad it in hisrvm

"Father," sho said, raising ber vote®, '*1 won't ha vo CoL Quaritch turned away from tho door Itko that If you will not admit hlalm_

id to you, capital and interest, down to last farthing. I tender back my price, and knowing you for what you are, I—I despise you. That is all I have to say." "Well, if that bean't a master one," ejaculated George, aloud.

Ida, who had never looked more beautiful thwn she did in this moment of passion, turned to seat herself, but the tension of her feelings and the torrent of her wrath and eloquenoe had been too much for her, and she would have fallen had not Harold, who had been listening, arnased, to this overpowering outburst of nature, run up and caught her in hisartna

As for Edward Cossey, he had shrunk back involuntarily beneath the volume of her •corn till he stood with his back against the par r!ri wall. His face was white as a sheet dee, and fury shone in his large dark eyes. Never had he desired this woman more fiercely than be did now in the moment when he knew that sho had escaped him forever. In a sense ho was to be pitied, for passion tore his heart in twain. For a moment ho stood tbm, and then, with a

begging your pardon for the word," said spring rather than a stop, he advanced across George, in exasperation. "Dont go a-knock- the room till ho was toe* to facewlth Horing of veur head agiu a brick wall" old, who, with Ida half fainting still in his "Will you be off, sir!" roared bis master, anas and her head npco his shoulder, was In a voice that made the walls shake. I landing on the further side of the great open

t.^r

be lifted his

tfc* amiire.

tell you what! ."C

with frr?, ",T

{cr

to*-

j»

lis be

thaV"

fn__

At any rate, if the

is an adventurer, hs has adventured purpose, as is easy to see and he

poi to Ida lying in his arms. "Hold yoor tongue, sir," roared the squire, as Md reliev1-- his fr^,£-r- on his reyour oar

"You ai lways

In where it isnt wanted." "All tif *. —allri ihe imp-iu: ihouldnH be sich." "Do you nf '.i'i1 allow turning fiwrou^ ihe old you mean to allow this man to many your di»v. tor for ber money iUv Cossey," answered the wopire, with fch poUtesrand mo«fc old fa«l«. ed bow, "whatever sj: iy I msy by y° It '. atmy mm herselL ffitstsk ^oksa TsrycJs short I have afaswmMtly nothing —id to her wopds."

said ^—r® his rs

'---nOdss^y, a*. "Do

it for yoo

speak for jr, and la

siting Pooled

and «d I

!aGkdabtmiat

re as !'..*• is my revenge on -if tfc-rt »M«unaa g* [oceo,

I t*

sa i_ii I -•Co aadnot t*»yoo,aadl irfTi

W **'.

I taken away frwa jroo, tf iw: itk"./ 1

IsropMtf,«adX«il h*mt -.1 of .r--throwft ib ovortbs I and It®®

ieo

Jl A of

'tflsfisj

1 tb-o

UiH yf-« »,af. Sit-'*' ^eswal kted. irarsi

r. t."

f®i«i(i

1 fHTRRB HAUTE SATURDAY EVENING MAIL,

Vnnw you Sff~and you forbade thai man KM hoosei" be paused for breath and to collect his words.

Again tho squire bowed, and his bow was a study in itself. Yoa do not see such bows nowadays. "One minute, Mr. Cossey," be said, very quietly, for it was one of his peculiarities to tKwvMTM abnormally quiet in circumstances of real emergency, "and then I think that we may close painful interview. When first I knew you I did not like you. ^Xterward, through various circumstances, I modified my opinion, and set my dislike down to prejudice. You are quite right in saying that I encouraged the idea of a marriage between you my daughter, and also that I forbade the boose to CoL Quaritch. I did so because, to be honest, I saw no other way of avoiding the utter ruin of my family but perhaps I was wrong in so doing. I hope that you may never be in a position which will force you to such a decision. Also at the time, indeed never till this moment, have I quite realised how tho matter really stood. I did not understand how strongly my daughter was attached in another direction, perhaps I was unwilling to understand it. Nor did I altogether understand the course of action bj* which it seems you obtained a promise of marriage from my daughter in the first instance. I was anxious for the marriage because I believed you to bo abetter man than you are, and because I thought that it would place my daughter and her descendants in a much improved position, and that she would in time become attached to you. I forbade CoL Quaritch the bouse because I thought that an alliance with him would be the most undesirable for everybody concerned. I find that in all this 1 was acting wrongly, and I frankly admit it. Perhaps as we grow old we grow worldly also, and you and your agents pressed me very hprd, Mr. Cossey. Still I have always told you that my daughter was a free agent, and must decide for herself, and therefore I owe you no apology on that score. So much, then, for the question of your engagement to Miss de la Molle. It is done with. And now as regards the threats you make. I shall try to meet them as occasion arises, and if I cannot do so it will be my misfortune. But one thing they show me, though I am sorry to have to say it to any man in a house which I can still call my own—they show me that my first impressions of you were the correct ones. You are not a gentleman, Mr. Cossey, and I must beg to decline the honor of your further acquaintance," and with another bow he opened the vestibule door, and stood holding the handle in his band.

Edward Cossey looked round with a stare of rage, and then, muttering one most comprehensive curse, he stalked from the room, and in another minute was ^riving fast through the ancient gateway.

Poor manl Lot us pity him, for ho also certainly got bis full due. Qeorge followed him to the outer door, and then he did a thing that nobody had seen him do before—he burst out into a loud lanxrh. "What are you making that noise about!" nritttd his master, sternly. "This is no laughing matter."

Him!" replied George, pointing to the retreating dog cart "he's a-going to pull down tho castle and throw it into the moat and to tho plow over it, is he? Him—that varmint! Why, them old towers will be astanding there wnen his beggarly bones is dust, and when his name ain't no more a name and there'll be one of the old blood sitting in them, too. I kiiaw it, and I bev alius knawed it. Come, squire, though you alius du say, how as I'm a fule, what did Ite11

Didn't I tell yer that Prowirfn^o weren't a-going to let this place go to any laryers or bankers or thim sort. Why, of course I did. And now you see. Not but what it is all owing to the ooloneL He was the man that found it, but then God Almighty taught him how to do it But he's a good un, he is and a gentleman, not like himand he onoe more pointed with unutterable scorn to the road down which Edward Cossey had vanished. "Now look here," said the squire, "don't you stand talking here all day about things you dont understand. That's the way you waste time. You be off and look after this gold it should not be left alone, you know. We will come down presently to Molehill, for suppose that is where it is. No, I cant stop to hear the story now, and besides, I want CoL Quaritch to tell it to me." "All right, squire," said George, touching his red night cap, "I'll be off and be started. "George," hallooed his master after him but George did not stop. Ho had ti trick of deafness when tbo squire was calling aqd he wanted to go st mewhere else. "Confound your roared the old gentleman "why dont you stop when I call you?"

This time George brought his long, lank framo to a standstill. "Beg pardon, squire." "Beg pardon, yes—you're always begging pardon. Look here, you bad better bring your wifo and have dinner in the servants' ball today, and drink a glass of port." "Thank you, squire." said George, again touching his red nisrhtcap. "And look here, George. Give me your bund, man. Here's a merry Christmas to you. We've gone through some queeriah tirrxm about this place together, but now it ftlmnut looks as though we were going to end our days in peace and plenty." "Same to you, squire, I'm sure—same to yon," said George, pulling off his o|i "Yes, yes, we've bad some bad years, what with poor Mr. James and that Quest and Cossey (he's the master varmint of the lot, be is), and the bad times, and the farm and all but, bless you, squire, now hat there'll be some ready money and no debts, why, if I dont make out son -how so that you all geta good living out of he place, I'm a Dutchman. Y«,itfs been a ba and we're getting old, but there, that's now it is, the sky almost alios clears toward nlghtfalL God Almighty has a mind to let one down easy, 1 suppose." "If you would talk a little less about God

Almighty, and cotae to church a littte mors, it would be a«ood thing, as Pve told you before," sr. a the squire "but there, go along with you.""

And the IK fellow want

t' "*5

CHAPTER Xl.m.

I S A S I S

The squire turned and entered the bouse. He generally was fairly noisy In his movements, but on this occasion be was exceptionally r* Possibly be had a reason for it.

On rear ig the vestibule be fount Harold and Ida standitag si3e by as though they were beir MOed. Itwm impossible to resist the tefasion that they had suddenly amr^i attitafc because it happened to be tfe ctkD into which they oould ocNtm. -':.1L

Then* v.vs a mon-ntti sflf-vTB, and then Hara took Ida* sad and led her up to when _r father "Mr. I- iM vw he '. '-.mpfy, "on--taore I aru- yoor ughter in um riagei I •*-. uanydi»qpnttfiatf.:. th r«|p*bA !»y m- i-ut ee.fv|iv th t,

:,~r

rr, •"•Sechr*

.'tea- •=. a w: .. lyoer sr.-i S* p'.'HrfL .•4Qes^trhlNp,sw rs4tt» «*I lawp

•Ivsfs m,

already in 'your preaeooe tdd "Mr. Cossey under what circumstances I was favorably inclined to his proposal, so I need not repeat all that, gtaregardsyonr nww although they wouB have been quite insufficient to avert the ruin which threatenad us, still you have, I believe, a competence, and, owing to your wonderful and most providential discovery, the fear of ruin seems to have passed away. It is owing to you that that discovery, which, by the way, I want to hear all about, has been made had it not teen for you it never would have been made at all, and therefore I certainly havo no right to say anything more about your means. As regards your age—well, after all, 44 is not the limit of life and if Ida does not object to marrying a man of those years, I cannot object to her doing so. With reference to your want of occupation, I think that if you marry Ida this place will, as times are, keep your hands pretty full, especially when you have an obstinate donkey like that fellow George to deal with—for I am getting too old and stupid to look after it myself and, besides, things are sotopsy turvy that I cant understand them. There is one thing more that I want to say I forbade you the bouse. Well, you are a generous minded man, and it is human to err, and I think tlmt perhaps you will understand my action and not bear me a grudge on that account. Also, I dare say that at the time—and possibly at other ti.^3—I said things that I should be sorry for if I could remember what they were, which I can't and if so, I apologize to you as a gentleman should when he finds himself in tho wrong. And now I say, God bless you botli^ and. I hope you will be happy in life together and so come here, Ida, my love, and give me a kiss. You have been a good daughter all you life, and so Quaritch may be sure that yen will be a good wife toa"

Ida did as sho-was- hid, and then she went over to her lover andi took his hand, and he kissed her on the- forehead, and so, after all their troubles* thay finally ratified tho cont: id we, who»Bov& followed them thus far, have perhaps been a little moved with struggles, hopes and fears, will not grudge to re-echo the squire's old fashprayer,. "God bless them both." bless them. both. Long may they live, •ppiiy. may they live, and for very long may their children's children of' the race, if not of thanamerOf Dfela Molle, pass in and out through the- old. Norman gateway and past the sturdy Norman towers. The Bpisseys, who built them^ here bad their habitation for six generations. The De la Molles, who wedded the- heiress of the Boisseys, lived here for thirteen generations. May the Quaritchcs, whose ancestor married Ida, heiress of the Do-la. Molles, endure as long!

Surely it is permitted to us to lift a corner of tho curtain of futurity and to see, in spirit, Ida Quaritch, stately and beautiful, as wo knew her, but of a happier countenance, seated, on some Christmas Eve to come, in the drawing room of the castle and tailing to the children at her knees the wonderful of how their father and old George, on this vary night, when the great gale blow, long years ago, discovered the ruddy pile of gold hoarded in that awful storehouse amid the bones of Saxon or Danish heroes, and thus saved her to be their mother. Wo can surely see the wide and wondering oyes and the fixed faces as for the tenth timo they listen to a story before which the joysof Crusoe will

grow

pale, and

hear the eager appeals for confirmation made to tho military looking gentleman, very grizzled now, but grown better looking with the advancing years, who is standing warming himself before tho fire, the best and^most beloved husband and father in the whole country side.

Perhaps theffe taay be a vacant chair and another tomb among tbo ranks of the departed Do la Molles perhaps the ancient walls will no longer echo to the sound of the old squire's stentorian voioe. And what of that! It is our common lot.

But when be goes the country sido will lose a

man

of whom they will not see the like

again, for the breed is dead or dying a man whose very prejudices, inconsistencies and occasional wrong headed violence will be held, when be is no longer here, to have been, endeiu-ing qualities. And for manliness, for downright English, God fearing virtues, for love of queen, country, family and home, they may search in vain to find his equal among the thin blooded gentility of tho cosmopolitan Englishmen of tho dawning Twentieth century. His faults were many, and at one tinw he went near to sacrificing his daughter to save his house, but he would not havo been tbo lie was without them.

Ami so to him, too, farewelL Perhaps ho will find himself better placed in the Valhalla of his forefathers, surrounded by those stout old De la Molles whose memory ho regarded with so much affection, than here in the Victorian era. For, as has been said elsewhere,-, the old squire would undoubtedly have toked better in a chain shirt and abattlo ax than ever he did in a frock coat, especially ith his retainer George armed to tbo teeth hind him.

They hissed, and it was dene and out jrom tho church tower in the meadows broke with clash and clangor the glad sound of. the Christmas bells. Out it swept over pitleuand fallow, over grove and wood. It floated down th«» valley of the Ell, it beat agafcst Dead Man's Mount (henceforth to the vulgar mind more haunted than ever), and echoed up the castle's Norman towers and down the oak vestibul& Away over the common went the message of Earth's Savioor, away high into the air, startling the rooks upon their airy courses, as though the iron notes of the world's rejoicing would fain float to the throned feet of the World's Everlasting King.

Peace and good will, ay, and happiness, to the children of men white their span is, and hope for the beyond, and Heaven's blessing on holy love and all good things that are. This was what those liquid notes seemed to say to the most happy pair who stood band la in the vestibule and thought of all they had escaped and all that they bad woa

WelL Quaritch, if you and Ida have qaile tow staring at each other, which isnt very interesting to a third party, perhaps yoa will not mind telling as how yon happened on old Sir James de la MoT hoard."

Thus adjured. Ha. began his thrilling story, telling the whole history of the night in detail, axsd if his bearers bad expected to be astonished, certainly their *«"«ctatioas were considerably more that full "Upon my word," "id the squire when he had done, "I think I am beginning to grow superstitious in my old age. Hang me if I dont believe it was the finger of Providea Itself that pointed out those letters to you. Any way, Tm off to sea the spoCL Bon and got yoor hat, Ida, my dear, and we will all go together."

Ami they went and looked at t: farimfnl ot red gold, ym, and 4-v.. -d down, all three of nto tfa ehi-i pra in the bowt— the Akpi...• t, ir.• •, oc og thence awed aad sOant, sealed up theplaas .mm

ofBoisin is

,4 003ICXU8S09L ooowrr. morning sacii fahab»t«n*« tm a* happened to be about mr lat sseiag at -diaary fa* cyr.ii: gdtow» Ibltoa^Wt, itmmi

On the

v3fc« -."L*

And they vent and Icfoked. at ths cheat brimful of t*d gold. bemg13Hveh7 or rather led, by no lass a psr son than George himself, while behind it. walked the well known formtof the old squire,. arm in arm with CoL Quaritch..

They were still more interested, however, when the tumbrel drew up at the door of the bank—not Cossey's, but the opposition bank., —where, although it was Boxing Day, the manager and the clerk were waiting, apparently, for its coming.

But their interest culminated whan»they perceived that tho cart only contained ft few flour sacks, and yet that each of these sacks, seemed to require three or four men to lift it with any comfort.

Thus was the gold safely housed. Upon: being weighed its value' was found to beabout £53,000 of modern money. As, bow» ever, some of the coins, were exceedingly rare, and of great value to museums and colt lectors, this value was considerably increased,. and the treasure was: ultimately sold. for £55,254. Only Ida kept back enough of th&choicest coins to make a gold waistband or.girdle and a necklace for herself, destined, no* doubt, in future days to form the most, cherished heirloom of the Quaritch family.-.

Qn that same evening tha equire and Harold went to London and opened .up oommutnications with the solicitor to the treasury.. Fortunately they were able, to .refer to .the.will of Sir Edward d&Ja.Molle, the seound. baronet, in which he specially devised to his., cousin, Geoffrey DoffeHeigh, .and.his beics forever, not only his estates, but his lands,, "together with the treasure hid thereon or elsewhere by my late murdered. father, .Sir James de la Molle." Alsoithey produced ,thei writing which Ida had found, in., the cdd. Bible, and the. parchment discovered by George among the. coin. These three doenr ments formed a chain of ovldence which avea. officials interested for tho treasury .oould not refuse to admit, and in the upshot the crown, renounced its claims, .and the .property.- int the gold passed to the squire, subjoct to.tho payment of the same suooeasson duty which he would havo been called upon to meet had. he inherited a li^esom from*&icousinntjtho present time.

And so it came to pass that.when the mortgage money was due it was .paid. to tho last* farthing, capital .and interest, and Edward. Cossey lost his hold Upou Honham omver..

As for Edward Cossey himself,,we may say one more-word.about Jhiouu.. Ih duecoourseof time he gotxiver. his violent passion, for.Ida sufficiently to allow hta. to raakoa.brilliant marriage with tho only daughter.of. an. impecunious peer. She keeps har name and. title and he plays the part of. the nncessaj^r husband. Aayhw, my rosier, if it is your glorious fortune to frequent .the. gilded, earns of tbo great,,yoa may meefc Lady noria Tallbdt andMr^Cossey. If ypuifrii meet him, however,, it may be as well to avoid biro,.for tho events of his life havo uat. boon of a r.atnro to improve his temper. Thi&> much then of Edward Cossey.

If after leaving the gilded, saloons offimsaid you..should, happen, to wonder. d«wm Piccadilly or tho Strand,,as the«ase„may be«, you may lueot onQthor character in,thifehiar tory. You may soe a sweet, jalo face*, still stamped with a childlike roundnessnmLuim.--plicity, but half hidden.in.tho-aoarao hood.of the nun. You may seo her, oudiif. you carcx to .follow you may find what is the work, wherein sbo seeks her peace. It woulcLshock yon you would fly from it in horror.t but ia her .work of mercy and loving kindness—-and. she does it unflinchingly—and among, hsr fellow nuns there is no. one mora btdovwi than Sister Agn$&. So good-by to.hor oJus.

Harold. Qnaritch and Ida.were married In the spring, and the village children strewed the churchyard path—the same path, where in anguish of foul thoy had met and parted on that dreary winter's night—with, prim•es and violets.

And there at. tho old aliurcli door,, when the wreath.is-on ber brow. and.the-veil about her faco, let.us bid farewelL Ida. and her husband, Harold Quaritch. iHJt Em

Blood Pol don

Is very liable to follow oontaet of the hands or face with what i» known as poison ivy, espeeially iu Ifcoi weather or if the body is perspiria« trmly. The trouble may subside fo* a time, only to appear in aggravated Sotiu when opportunity offers. The gve»t purifying pow. ers of Hood's HarsajMurilla thoroughly eradicate every trace of poison from th« blood, as the cures It has accomplished conclusively show. It also cures soaofula, salt rhram and all other affections arising from inpure or poisoned bloodi

Next week The Mail will lug^a the publication of two interesting mtm serial atoriea.

Beautiful Jim:

An episode In the British military service, by John Strang* Winter, the famous novelist. Splendidly illustrated,

Done in the Dark,

Or, the Fair Plotter of the Cabin.

By T. C. HARBAUOH.

I A splendid romance of the early days of Virginia, ull of stirring incident of the ni '-«captivating style.

Tf T'^ W "7 -T1o -V

A"*&<

-t

A Little Girl's Mistake**

Little Lizzie may not havo made su«ht a mistake after all, when Bha-told' her playmate, that mamma was ever somuch better since she bsspn1 taking. "Golde* Medal Discovery*'' Lizzie-'meant-Dr. Pierce'8 Golden Medical Discovery,. bwt many a restored safitarer hasfelt that the discoverer was -worthy ^of &<- golden aiedal. Better than* all thejmedalsris the consciousness-that thousands of eases of Consumption, "Liver Complaint," Kidney Diseases? and dieeases of the blood, have beewetired b\rit*. Lizaie'»Munma was one of a«ounuess~ army who have learned by experiencethe virtaes of the "Discovery" for -diseased livers and consequent impure--blood Jt cures all Skin, Scnlpand«croulous Affections, Salt-rhetMMy Tetter,. Brysipelss, Boils and kindrod^ailmentst It is the enly medicine of Its class, sold' tty druggists, under a po$\4fotiytitTmteethat it witt benefit or cure in all cases of disease-far which it is recoBamendedvorractoney paid for it will be refunded!1.

Person* wishing to improve their, memories or strengthen their power of attentio» should send to Prolv Loisette{. 2ST PiftbAve., N. Y., for hi»'pnosp«ctuapest free*, as advertised in another column.

Baoklen'i Amies Salve.

The Best Salve In the world far Guts, Bruises,'. .. ... .Sores,- TetSoreea Uleens Salt Rheum, Fever* Sores, TeV r. 0bapp«4 Hands, Chilblains*. ter. UI*ap]»4 Hands, CbUhlataMt.-Cornflu-ana--~-Cornst-and--itilsfeln emplions, and positlY«ly»cures Piles,, onno iwanired. It is guaranteed to. give perfect'sattsnicUon, or money refunded. 25e. per box. For s^le by Carl Krletensiein,- 8. W Cor. 4th nnd Ohio.

BEST IN THE WORLD.

TDlie Fisture Great Cstes of 'Skiau IMaeoses by the Chafaicvtra-Remediea-v

Hoy oM-jmar sod a half old., Faoe and. lM»dy la a terrible cowMoii, NliisroT^ erMtwIih mk«, SnlplMiniiprlngR 1MI.1

Cured by Cntlcura Kenkedlas. lltevoniHed yonr CuticurraiUlntedh}s-iu (vro. 0fts«a utlew proved to lut «nvc«iviti{uLi The.ftrnt wtta In the case ot a bt jr.a year

HU4

old.. S-fitter and btxiy '.n«re in torxihie.-(1half rondltloiu, tbe former belna comujetfiljri cov^ eral with, sores. I took t'Juu lo th«^IaH«ena... SnlnhianSprtnini, but tied! Cuot linsw.»vo nujif. Iiwn&41ien.advfaed to try

Jh*.

VuHcunvRejiMH

dies. wJiiub, 1 did. He toclk.gne auud*OMe.half bottlearoCVaticura 11OHOIvwat, hun J« is skin Svnsfls smooth as could b«v-and Js Uvdu^v. I. !u»od:tlie t"*iHenra on hi iwces.and^lxiitj'utihin washing hias. He dye* !years.of. a«*t and all riu 1st#. ThO.otUsr riw».' rwns«(dtsease'af tho scatnlvhluh .was curcdu W a blng tha-Vtttirura, one bu£U« of, ,C»i\«urrt Ra-»-Boivsuti hates used. Tlu\y,.hnv» ,K«|ovan

oesstul: Itm every

CMISC

HUO—-

vKeworl |ittft'A ailvWuM|j.

tlio-ues-of th»m. It is Hi«rar|sl«irihew aobiitliwltl improve tdfrr tUcirirvatnuuiU rManuBe«d them for«nK.dUieai)« .ofnthe*. jslGia^as-beiac the best l«i|ihe low-axpetlenee, nnd I Ms.xcivdK^xHtand.UlO" mn-anubomtni. JOHN «. BKKO,., ^Unetlean House.,

Aw VabMisble 8k|»DlMiuw.£uralli SihaMWkeen afflictedUifl».jMa«tihi,wMtli aisMinnwase tho iiK'S()W04UXe(UE«*e*na., Vif fnu&'Nwit* covered wit lt i»etihn a««tores,- iuud: tho ituhilac and burniim werett^mMitunhsar--

Seeing your Gntimura .Remcdlm*

wwuwiy «»n« iwnusiwpiK V4 rvu* ontilto. 1 call mys«lf.cupffl,«(pUdafofr whlQll. 1 make this pnuu ,sta^uM^at.

Mns. CL A. ^ttf)ElU(:«fc. BWM«yprtKktiV'*»nk. CutlecM K«nvMtl«S

«ur»»very species .}octHr! uinUflktln«r, itc)Uia«. burning, noaly^t^.Minply dtesAMs ofit4l»Mkln, scalp, blood, jrith ilosaalitiiUr, and all humora,

BK»UIOEH,. MII)VLONRF.. HOWS,

soalo* and crusts, jjfh«|l^caimu(«.ecpaftilous or (HMitafrloun, w.'is^av^ywC.iBOfiaud.tUilRitdier nsnuedtes fall. (told everywhere. Bort.r, 25 cents R« the Potter Drug Boston.

MTHend for '*How to CsssHkin. Diseases.'* pages, SO 11 lu strati oas.^ad 10»t«etlmtffllals. ARV'Q Hkln ewu4 B*aln|smorve£tuidi beauDaDI 0 tided ^r. Vutlcur^oap). Ahstnlutely ptrre.

PAINS AND»WEAKNESS

Of females «lii*U»My (tllfiwel by th-slk new, eliJHMit^ nodi iwfallible AntMote to, (SsJnv. InthuminaMou, ar.A WeaHnc«s»ttW.CatloiMra Anti-

Pain Plantar. The fl«i aMd oulfic Instantaneous pniarktlilpg paster..

LOUSE'S. EXTRACT LOVER

HE GREW

nuoa

rr otm»e

Caaesrs, Swes, Ulcers, awsUlngs., Tumors, Atascesssfc Blood Polsoalng, Sfsll-. R|euin. Caesrrh. l&ysipclss, Rheumsttasat, aad all Bload and SWt. DISSSMS.

Paxes, $1 lfejcaaj

Plat. Bottle, or 6 Ba*les for Kb. Ext*act"$2.60 UMSE&KD CLCT4

Bold by J. it C. BAUB.

94 Mllea %h» Shortest, 8 Hours tho Qulclcest.

CINCINNATI to NEW ORLEANS

Tf MB *t HOURS.

F1 "reTral.-). v. f^r.Uayr 8lS' .nit'sri- !S.r-' «h U»OUt 110 Mll«s U»s Shortest, hours tbo Quic*' from CINC3IHNATI to TACKSONVILLi., Fla,

Time 28 bout*. Tt Ofh Hlecpers without sage. The Short Line between Cincinnati

.. Kjf-. tiHM 2 Teiin.. tii.'^a, 7 "i'U it,t 5,18 •••n. OS f, 11

I i. Af! I: I'.

Wi 1'

'~a 1-

readers :*i.i w® no hi,--ri !'!y r^-ornrn^ntjijjg tin-til for eVf-ry |k/u--». O O a to 4 ".•* yt-i lif-a?-" -tart. Ti," »i,'. w#i' audi wt-U iu.-.

J.C.OAUI.T,'

I: "ttnij

tours.

N. OrJe and 'Mm la. on j! i»: iiziiljps Of

roil*'

itgthel '»of lookout

ttiiinon acres of !-'?id In A'-.-.'iama, a tr"f „r, .. I'!.. |.-«.r -s r:t v. NOb r...ir:h HkH, """"•SI 1. E1WAJUM.O. P, *T. A.

RATI a