St. Joseph County Independent, Volume 21, Number 38, Walkerton, St. Joseph County, 11 April 1896 — Page 6

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CHAP TER XX. -(Continued.) Vanity did not care for the soldier s admicatiou, which she had soon enough peiceived; but the cause of her complete indifference was beyond Maud Xevilles ken. Vanity was infatuated about M illie Know, in spite of his misconduct she loved Sum.more than ever. This was silly and weak of Vanity; but consider, reader, how few stories uvaid be written if a few people iverc not silty and weak: and remomber how frail is the heart of wont in. Her madness was at least sincere. Vanity thought nothing of the handsome dragoon for whose admiration several girls of rank and fortune were sighing, ali because her heart was full of Willie Snow, weak Willie Snow, the man whom she still j called her own. and whom she believed had been given to her in a solemn ami tender hour beneath the saffron skies, and to the music of the dying evening wind. Mistress Maud Neville was prompted by a humane desire to keep the heart of tier brother in safety and to guide h:s । affections aright. This desire IrcquenCy possesses active and high-minded matnms, and from it unspeakable benefits ac crue to humanity. A flor one of these morning encounters between grass-plot and balcony, when Vanity had retired—‘‘Sit down here, Tom," said Maud, in-diciit-ing a garden seal; “what a pleasant cigar you are smoking this morning'. Now, Muster Tim. have you counted up the heirtA you have broken since you came down here?" “Oh, I don't know about that'." the dragoon replied. "1 really don’t give my rwl to it—not much, you know, M indoy.” “I suppose you will marry, Tom, and 1 suppose,” Maud went on, ‘‘Arabella HardcasHe will be the woman?" “Han't say," Toin replied diffidently. “But, Tom." Maud said, with an adUHrable air of surprise, "have you and the Hardcastles fallen out? You did not speak in this way a few days ago.” At which our dragoon's blush, just receding, broke out most visibly. "In one word," Mami said, looking him j full in the face, "there is a newcomer. I Pf.uk I can guess.” In this way Maud contrived so skillfully that there and then her brother confessed that he admired Vanity Hardware, and she, like the tactician she was, received the intelligence with perfect com- ; posure, not protesting. This only she h i id: "Sho is very handsome, good, kind; but ! then, Tom ” "1 know what yon mean," Tom remark ed, seeing she hesitated. "Ought we to visit her?” "Well, you see, Tom, we have to ask such questions." "If you had to choose for mo, and the chwice lay between Arabella ami my newcomer ——” "Really. Tom, I should not know what to do." That may seem strange enough, but Mind could not bear the idea of having Arabella Hardcastle for sister-in-law. Her dislike was not a recent affair. Mrs. Hardcastle had brought her up from infancy, and hud managed to make her, as child, girl and young woman, cordially detest her guardian. Arabella, too, had always been pitted against Maud. But j that potent old lady had managed to on- ; tangle Tom Pembroke, for Tom was easy i na hired. Accordingly, when Tom told his sister 1 that he had ready taken a fancy to Vanity Hardware, that sensible and straightforward young woman was in a fix. I’erhaps of the two she might have preferred Vanity; but all lady readers will see that fihere were very grave objections to a marriage with this brave, beautiful, but certainly most nondescript heroine. "Which of the two would it be, Maud?" Tom saw 'his advantage, and pressed his question. Maud traced a pattern on ■ftho gravel with her foot, raised her eyebrows, as if to signify that she was put in an unfair position; but she made no ansvycr. “Os course," said Tom, "I am now talking on the supposition mat I felt such a wtep to be desirable, and also that—Miss Hardware would have me.” “Oh, Tom, ridiculous' Os course she would!” "How do you know?-* he rejoined. “I am not so sure of that.” And he spoke so seriously that Maud f>-l‘ lie nine have some reason for his i ■lll.night, and she was greatly astonish I. 1 Wiicy wealthy, handsome, dashing, good- , humored Tom Pembroke, the prize for an ' wart's daughter, asking poor and pretty 1 mid helpless Vanity Hardware to be his wife! And fancy her saying No! Here would be materials for a novel indeed! CHAPTER XXf. At last the little patient was discharged from her hospital; and, all danger from I infection being over—so the doctor said ' —Maud Neville was able to thank her benefactress in person. That energetic young matron could not but feel that Tom ' needed no excuse for being smitten by j A'anity Hardware. Maud felt a secret respect for the young actress, and could not but utter her thanks with the sisterly wnrrnKi which sho desired to express. And yet could Maud have read Vanity’s secret! The actress was possessed with an idea w hich Maud would cer-, tainly have called wicked, if not mean. Her soul was concentrated upon her purpose of wayward affection and merciless! revenge. Iler calculation was that Nancy’s attractions would be about used up by this time. Vanity judged her just the woman to fatigue a man soon. Willie had known her spell once. .She knew exactly how to captivate him. This wicked, reckless purpose made Vanity grave and calm and superior as she talked with 3^l aml Neville. Maud poured out her thanks, praised Vanity’s bravery, and said whatever the vcnision suggested. Vanity heard her with an air of condescending interest, as

one listens to the thanks of a grateful child. "I am glad I risked it," she said, speaking to her own heart while appearing to answer Maud. "If I had died I should not have cared. But 1 am alive!" “Alive!" repeated Maud Neville. “But suppose your beauty had gone!" Vanity shuddered. Then she remembered her own former thought. "If tied or Fate had wanted my beauty, it would lune been taken. Now 1 am twice rn;. own.” This was Greek to Maud; but she had somelhing to say herself. X.iuity was standing at the window, looking into the garden. At a sight of the soldier outside Maud saw a sarcastic smile upon the lips of tiie actress, lint it vanished quickly. "I am so proud of my brother!" "N" wonder." Vanity replied. "He is a handsome man.” "Tom is good as well as handsome. O, ho has a noble heart! For till his easy, self-indulgent ways, he thinks more of i other people than of himself. You may smile." she continued, with growing imprudence. "1 suppose you have guessed that my brother admires you. But let me tell you that my brother is not the style of man who can fancy one woman and L>ve another!" "He looked twice at mo when once would have been enough." This Vanity -aid with graceful gayety. "But I vow I did not think he would he .o told yon." "He did tell me!" cried Maud, eagerly. "That shows what Tom i-! But I have not been wise. Tom only just mentioned it to me in passing. <»f course yon know." Mho stroke ! Vanity's hand, "and you will n it be offended with me; there would bo many, many thing-, to be thought of be fore before -” "Before he married mo." Vanity finished the sentence with ch arming playfulness. "You really are good-natured!" Maud exclaimed. "It is so good of you to take it in that kind of way. 1 wished to be | straiebt forward, but you might so easily have taken offense." "Make yourself easy." Vanity answered, i resuming her amused look. "Your broth । er will have no need to consider prudence or anything else. 1 would not marry him if he asked me." "What!" exclaimed Mami Neville. “Not marry Tim!" I “No," Vanity su'd cleverly, “for I love somi b -dy else." i “Do tell me forgive me for ask.ng. Is i he handsome?" "Hand-ome! Oh. more than handsome to mo." Vanity kep: her own secret looked in her breast. The strength of her purpose, the conviction that her wrongs in the past just lib d her present schemes. » tubed her to accept Maud Neville's < .nig :a: ulat ions with perfect calmness. Vani-.i was a law unto herself. Bat another and mightier hau l ihnn her own will was to fashion her future. I That very night the smallpox laid her low! ! I’oor Vanity! The doctor had pronoun. ! ed her safe frem all danger; bit seme its- ! scrutable speck of infection had found its way into her blood; and the lace, whose beauty site had an hour before regarded with a thrill of vindictive pride, was nt < the mercy of this destructive disease. The whole establishment was upset, ami I the doctor, in his fresh alarm, insisted that ■ the family should depart, Maud Neville ! made one bold proposal to nurse Vanity herself, but th s was sternly forbidden. | and Sister Catherine, who happil to be I in the neighborhood, declared that she would wait upon Vanity and see her 1 through the disease. In this manner the fitful life of Vanity Hardware wound its way into the valley of the shadow of death. As the malady progressed Vanity grew delirious. “Willie, ’Willie'." she murmured, in a voice deep as the note of a nightingale, and just as though she were thing the words on his breast, “we will bo so happy —far away over the sea. living and loving together. Away, away from this horrid Eugland! Oh, how 1 hate England I" Sister Catherine know a great deal of Vanity's former history. Listening to these wanderings, which were repeated with a significant persistency, she gradually discerned the filament of real feeling and intention on which the whole was threaded. “If you live," she said, speaking aloud, “poor, wandering vhild. 1 will try to teach you that there is another love than this!” Vanity heard rhe words, and answered, still wandering: "O, Willie, it is too late now, “‘1 am dying, dying only I here importune Death a while, until ' Os many thousand kisses, the poor last ! I lay upon thy lips.' ” "O, Father!" the Sister cried, “slay I this child's beauty, and then raise her up I to be Thine for evermore!” CHAPTER XXII. ■ A unity s illness might be compared to । the course of a river. There was the ! snatch of delirium when the patient was I impetuous and fitful; then came the pe- I | riod of blindness and silence, as if the | i stream, sinking down between deep banks, j I rolled on dark and noiseless to the sea. | "Tell me," she moaned to Sister Cath- | erine one day, after the doctor had gone. . “is there any hope?” "Yes, child," sho answered soothingly; I “with care you will recover.” “I don't mean that," she replied. “Shall I bo marked?” > “He fears you will. I don't wonder if i you grieve over that pretty, sweet face. But listen, child; you have to learn to say. ‘Not my will, but. Thine, be done.’ And you will learn to say it.” “Never,” cried Vanity—"never! Listen, there is a man whom I loved, and who loved me. We had promised ourselves to each other, and a woman came and stole ! his heart.” "Then lie is hers—not yours.”

“I meant to win him back,” Vanity eon. tinned; “I knew he could not resist me. But now my face is destroyed, and all is over, and I want to die.” “Thank God, who has given you time for repentance,” the Sister said gravely. "His ways are not our ways. He is leading you by paths you know not.” Two or three hours later Sister Catherine, finding her a little easier, said to her: "Would you like me to tell about a man who-once—wanted to marry me?” There was a strange tremor in -that usually calm voice as the Sister spoke. “Do let me hear it,” Vanity said. “We met when he avas twenty-live and I twenty-one, and we both were poor. We fell in love. I think he really loved me. I know I really loved him. The story is commonplace enough- at least to the ear.' After we had waited five years for a fortune to enable us to marry, he secured a good appointment. My heart was throbbing with bliss when I received a letter from him. written in a style of cold justice and formal honor, which stabbed me to the heart. He had ceased to care for me. 1 wrote and released him, and when 1 closed the letter I looked up, and there was my life around me, a desolate wilderness. My strength failed, my face grew aged with anguish, my hair turned white. I watched the signs, and was glad of them. 1 had been well taught, or I might have killed myself. IV<> iv<-r<> living in the country, and one Sunday morning 1 went out for .-in early walk. Since my sorrows 1 had never gone to church, and I heard the bells ringing in the village for an early service. The idea struck me that 1 would go in and see if there 1 could calm my mind. As I entered the clergyman was reading the sentence, ‘Come unto Me, all that travail and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.’ “Now. let me tell you a fact. As I knoh there it seemed Io me that an invisible hand was put into mine. I did truly and actually feel as if a hand clasped me. 1 looked r.p. No one was near me. The clergyman was some way off. Then I seemed to hear a voice saying: ‘Are there no sorrows beside your own? X breaking hearts but yours? No sick nrss? \o hunger? No nakedness?' Thon for the first time I realized that I was >nly one in a great fellowship of grief. I was overwhelmed, but with a blessed sorrow now. When the cup came to me I could scarcely hold it. The elergym.i’i saw my agitation, and kindly helped my trembling hand, and 1 saw my own tears running down into die wine I tasted. But from that moment there was a now life before mo. Ami I have been happy ever Sims' in my own way. People s.iy all sorts of things about religion; I only know what religion has been to me. A new life a new life when tiie old one was withered and blasted and de.id! All that was twenty years ago." “What be ame of him?” V.in.ty ask-sl “He went his nay and pr spered. He i« married now, with a large and happy family." C'inrago. energy, tenderness, and rare knowledge of the heart wore shown by Sster Catherine. She ncxer i" p.i tom e with \ amtj ; sie mwer shrunk from reproving her re. kless n.itions; and sho ni" er 1> st sight of the moth<>d by w hich sho must lead this w andering child of Nature into the w ay of peace. Sister (‘aUi'iiio gradually gained gtoiind. She ncier lost an ojq.ortun’ty. and she read \ unity’s character w ith t ire Insight. In spite of all the sick actress would pour forth in her pass:.mate broken hearted way. the sister k 'pt repent.ng that life was hue, and Giiat there was a life open i* Vani'y. At times, with accents of scorn, sho would contrast this with Vanity's old ideal; and a* last \amty fairly confessed that the sisier's eoncept tton of life was higher than her own. \ an :>'s lull heir; emy . d t n >.v "1 have been - > w ild and < ?.ful, and my ! life is so broken up. and everything has j gone to pie. < s. and there is nothing left! i But it iou will help me. I will live is you I t<dl me. and ti.it be afra.d, ami try to da j tiie best I can!" A little im lent then s. Ped Vanity's resolution. Sho felt her hand draw :i gentI ly toward the sister, who clasped it fast, I after wh.. h the sick girt fek tears falling ! d<w v upon it like rain. And Vanity I knew that these were tears of love and I joy. and all that the sister had said to her j almut goodness became a reality in a moI ment; and from that hour her feet were ! s. . up 'll the way M life. (To be continued J Flowers in the Phillippincs. Nearly every traveler in the Phlllippines finds niueh interest in the prodigious growth of flowers. There ar? over thirty varieties of orchids in the forests, and dozens of lilies of inntumoth proportions that are never seen outside of the tropics. The Malapo lily is the largest. Ils leaves are often six feet long and two feet wide, while its stems are three inches in diameter. It is in bloom live months in the year, and its blossoms tire as large as a peek measure. Carnations grow in phenomenal variety all over the rural districts, and frequently cover an acre or more, while goraninnis, whose luxuriance excites exclamations of surprise from nearly every beholder for the first time, grow like trees ami great clumps of bushes. Geraniums that have grown up the trunk and along Hie limbs of immense forest trees are to be seen frequently. The lazy, indifferent natives seldom touch them, and they grow on and on for years. Along ttie rural roads there arc everywhere wild poppies of the most delicate yellow flowers and large stems. From the trees in the forest there are hundreds of vines and parasites ot the most brilliant blossoms, and in the spring season tiie nir all over the several islands j 8 for । a time fairly heavy with floral fra- | grance. Both the Tagals and the Bocals have I no taste for the superb flora of the rhillippinra, and one seldom secs any kind of a flower or vine cultivated at the home of a native. The tropical luxuriance sometimes causes a beautL ful wild geranium ora species of ehrvsanthemum to spring up at the side'of a bamboo lint, and, because the natives are too lazy to do what is not absolutely necessary to comfort or life,' it will not be torn up or molested. In a recent magazine article John Morley says; "There arc probably not six Englishmen over fifty whose lives need to be written or should be written."

: isnowmrs.harrison I • MRS. DIMMICK IS WEDDED TO THE EX-PRESIDENT. Ceremony Is Modest Mnoush to Please ' the Groom and Beautiful Enough to Charm the Bride —Only a Few Guests Are Bidden. Simple Services. The marriage of ex-President Benjamin Harrison and Mrs. Mary Scott Lord Dim--1 inick took place in St. Thomas' ProHxstant ] Episcopal t’hurch. New York, at 5:30 ! I o'clock Monday afternoon, the Rev. Dr. John Wesley Brown otlb-iating. Two I hours later they had left New York, and before noon the next day ihe bride was installed in her new home at IndianaiHilis. This, the most notable wedding of the year in the light of its interest f.u- the ' whole country, was the qutete.-si. Not ! more than thirty persons saw the ceremony, and fewer still were bidden to the post-nuptial collation. (inly the immediate relatives of Mrs. Dimmick and the lifelong friends of Gen. Harrison who had borne with him the burden of n rm timinl government were there. All the members of hts immediate family were 1 conspicuously .ilisent. Mrs. Dimmick was given away by her brother-in-law. Lieut. John F. Parker. I . S. N.. and Gen. Harrison was supported by Gen. B. F. Tricy, ex-Secretary of the Navy. Two ushers’ E. I'. I ibbott, the ex President's private secretary, and Daniil M. Rnnsdeli, sufficed to seat the guests. (»en. Harrison s ingr.iitu'd repugnance ! to anything approaching publicity in rela tion to hts private affairs extended to his matrimonial plans. Jr mattered not to! him that the whole country w.mld run I eagerly every detail touching the marriage of one who had walked so manv years in the public eye, and who had Howl'd in office at the head of the nation. 110 want- 1

A /Ha we™ M pln ■ f •; T ? i 1 'A| 51 j - j ' I No. ®■ N ! n'tx nN' 1 w X TATES'^ xix r thom \s‘ p\Ris!i < num 11. (In which Ex-Pr.- id mt llarr.S 'ti v.as marri d. >

ed a quiet wedding. md M . Dimmick, was of the same mine. Hem- i: w.is that the few b4d i to tin 'it: :mmy were ask ed to keep s. tim Imur. ' Gen, Hanis n left the I’ifrh Avenue ' Hotel. a. ompincd by Gen. Benjamin i X vil' k "X \vWjr .4' \ & '4bgSJ I W ' -a , MKs. BENJAMIN JIAKt:isON. F. Tracy, in a elose carriage, at ■> o clock 1 and was driven to Rev. Hr. Brown's i house on Pifty-tbird street. They passed [ through the house to the vestry, where ; they awaited the coming of the bridal i party. The bride left the home of her sister. Mrs. .John I'. Parker, 40 Emu Thiriy-cighth street, a .>: 10 o ehe k. She was accompanied by her brother-in-law. Lieut. John I'. Porker. who gave her t away. They arrived at the entrance at > 5:20 o'clock and proceeded to tiie tower ■ room, where the bridal procession formed. They proceeded to the chaneel. । where Gen. Harris > n . ne ompanied by his groomsman, Gen. Tracy. received his ’ bride. The ushers, standing to one side, ’ faced the altar as rhe bride and groom ' stepped forward to the altar rail, where * the rector. Dr. Brown, was waiting, Dr. ; George William Warren, organist of the ' church, playing the bridal music from ’ ‘•Lohengrin." and during the entire ceremony playing very softly Mascagnis intermezzo in the “Cavalleria Rusticana.” That portion of the matrimonial service known as the marriage service proper, the ' recital of which lasts only about fifteen minutes, was used, and immediately the blessing w*» pronounced Gen. and Mrs.

Harrison, followed by Mrs. John F. Parker and Gen. Tracy, Mr. Tibbitt and Mr. Ransdoll, Lieut. Parker and Mr. and Mrs. inchot, walked down the aisle to the strains of rhe ‘Tainihatiser” march of ' ,<gner, and entering the carriages waiting at the entrance the bridal party was driven to the residence of Mr. and Mrs. 1 inchot, 2 Grammorcy Park, where light refreshments were served, and where the party donned traveling attire for the trip b> Indianapolis. Hundreds of valuable presents wore received by the couple. Col. E. S. FetgU- / wl I BENJAMIX HAKBISOX. [From lib latest photograph Copyright by Pach, New York.] sui sent a silver service; ex-Secretary Tracy's friendly sentiments wore embodied in a silver fish service: Gon. and Mrs. Morton sent a silver fruit basket; exSecretary Whitney sent two handsome j compotiers for bonbons. The present of the bridegroom was a magniticent string of pearls. The Bride’s Life Story. Mrs. Harrison, who is a small but very graceful woman, .if rather dark complex*

, inn, ami of a very bright and attractive 1 appearance, s rol l d : > Gon. Harrison through Ins la <• \ to, who was her aunt. Sho was bun in Primoton. Pa., where twst of her younger life was spent. H r mclier's marruge to Russell P. i I. wd proved an unhappy one. Soon after the war Mrs. Lord left her husband and joined her father. Dr. Seoti. at IndianI apolis. Ind., the two daughters going with her. Wcr tiie return of his daughter to his horn - in Indianapolis Dr. S-ott was called to Springfield, li!.. io take charge of a Pri shy’eiian institution that is now ka <tvn as C m .r.tm College. Mrs. Lord ami her children ;p- 'ompanu d him. In 1^75, w’ -o D". Scoi; loft Springfield. Mrs. Lord, with her two children, moved to Prim .con. X. .1 . wh, re for five years Mrs. Pi'p .'■ < : .i I’riiD • *’ 'X b’.iru- . ing < -uool munag. I by Mrs. Mmlitr. wife of urn of the j-.r d'essors of the theological s hool. Later sho attended the female college at Elmira. N. -I. I was in Princeton that Mamie T*>rd became a |it> n:ed with Waiter Erskine i Dimmick. and two years later they ran away and were married, their efforts io reconcile their relatives to the union having proved unavailing. Yeung Dimmh'k was the son of Samuel E. Dimmick, one I of tiie loading lawyers of northern Pennsylvania. whose largo fontune was left, to ! his throe sons. Their honeymoon was i hardly ended before Mr. Dimmick was stricken with typhoid fever. His young bride nursed him with such devotion and PXm HARBISON'S INDIANAPOLIS HOME, tenderness as only the noblest natures caa put forth. Day and night she was at his bedside, but the dread disease was relentless, and on Jan. 16, 1882, three months after marriage, Walter Dimmick died.

Saved from Destruction. This Is what happens when the kidneys rescued from Inactlvltj^by Hostetter's Stom»| ach Bitters. If they continue Inactive ths/ are threatened with Bright’s Disease, diabetes or some other malady which work* their destruction. Malarial, bilious and rheumatic ailment and dyspepsia are also conquered by the Bitters, which is thorough ana effective. When He Is Not Working. A man who has been sick at home a week says that the first day his wife said: “Darling, don’t sit in that draft,” but now she says: "Haven't you any better sense than to sit in that draft?” —Atchison Globe. The Modern Way Commends itself to the well-informed, to do pleasantly and effectually what ; was formerly done In the crudest mani ner and disagreeably as well. To cleanse the system and break up colds, headaches and fevers without unpleasant after effects, use the delightful liquid laxative remedy, Syrup of Figs. Lost for Good. Amid many international uncertainties It seems finally settled that this country has lost William Waldrof Astor. —New York World. With but little care and no trouble, the beard and mustache can lie kept a uniform brown or black color by using Buckingham's Dye for the Whiskers. Scandal, like the Nile, is fed by innumerable streams; but it is extremely difficult to trace it to its source. "My dear fellow, she is an angel. How exquisitely lovely her complexion is. They say she uses Glenn's Sulphur Soap.” It is a terrible thing to see one working who never smiles. Spring Medicine Yonr blocd in Spring is almost certain to le full of impurities—the accumulat on of the winter months. Bad ventilation of sleeping r> oms, impure air in dwellings, factories and shops, over-eating, heavy, improper foods, aiiure of the kidneys and liver properly to do extra work thus thrust upon them, are the prime causes of this condition. It Is of the utmost importance that you Purify Your Blood Now, as when warmer weather comes and the tonic effect of cold, bracing air is gone, your weak, thin, impure blood l will not furnish necessary strength. That tired feeling, loss of appetite, will open the way for serious disease, ruined health, or breaking out of humors and impurities. To make pure, rich, red blood Hood’s Sarsaparilla stands unequalled. Thousands testify to its merits. Millions*take it as their Spring Medicine. Get Hood’s, because Hood’s Sarsaparilla Is the One True Blood Puris er. Al druggists sl. Prepared only by C. I. Hood & Co., Lowell, Mass. Hood’s Pills r ood’* Sarsaparilla. One as good as another. It Is easy to say that one preparation is as good as another, and it 1 is easy to waste money by buying something 1 you know nothing ; about —and receiving no benefit* When the body is weak and you want to give it strength, when health is faffingy what wisdom is there in experimenting with a substitute, when for a fevz cents more you can buy the original article? For more than twenty years Scott's Emulsion Has been the standard Cod'liver Oil emulsion* It contains more pure Norwegian Cod-liver Oil than any ; other emulsion in the world, and will stand the test of time as being a perfect, inseparable emulsion* You can't afford to take a substitute for it*