Terre Haute Weekly Gazette, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 7 June 1883 — Page 2

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THURSDAY, JUNE 7, 1883

HRQUBH DANGER

•niMiiii—l ini'H il

IlPE IN AUSTRALIA.

I v, v' i* fa t#

*r»iC' Mi

CHAPTER m.'

HERBERT ARCHER'S RIVAL.

Flo Grainger bad not long enjoyed her sense of escape from a proposal which intuitively she knew threatened her, when, the sound of a horse's a proach causing her to turn, she behe Herbert Archer evidently in pursuit.

She bit her lip with annoyance, and for an instant hesitated how to pro* ceed. Her inclination was to avoid him, but she felt not only would flight be undignified, but an insult to which •he had no right to subject him. "A man's love does a woman honor," she reflected, "and should win her respect and consideration though she cannot reciprocate it. After all, better that the moment when he must know the truth should not be delayed. Yet It is hard to give anyone pain."

Checking her horse, she rode at a slower pace, and Herbert Archer speedily gained upon her. As he reached the aborigine, leaning forward, he slipped some silver' his hand. -j? nena jeck," ne said, "l wish to speak with your young mistress—you understand you can drop a little back, I will be her escort, and while I am near you may be sure no harm shall overtake her." "A'right, Misser Archer, Jeck unnerstan perfly," erinned the Australian, as he pocketed the coins "Jeck not inrupt."

Herbert Archer, with a nod of ftp* proval, galloped on. "Jeck thought it strange missie should ride off d'rectly handsome Misser Archer put'm nose in the station. Missie guess'd he'd follow, be, he, he. Can't deceive old Jeck."

The aborigine, marvellously satisfied With his acuteness, reined in the horse he tode to its slowest pace^ and fell into a deep reflection upon his own concerns.

Meanwhile Herbert Archer had overtaken Flo. "The loveliness of the morning has, I see, tempted you to ride, Miss Grainger," he remarked. "I saw you as I was about to leave the station, but

1J A. !i.1 A. -A

could not go without saying farewell." The speech in no way allayed the girl's suspicions, for she knew it was not true, but she replied quietly: "Leaving, Mr. Archer? I understood you purposed remaining an hour or two with uncle, so should have returned before your departure."

There was just a pause for a moment, the young man's eyes were lowered, then bent on her full of earnest passion. "Why do I hesitate? Why beat about fhe bush?" he exclaimed in low, quick accents. "My intended stay was to

chance escape. I dared to follow.— Forgive me. Bo not say that I have offended?" "Offended!" she repeated with assumed lightness, though her pulse fluttered nervously. "Forgive! What is there to? My ride was to be but a short one. You must return with me to the station, Mr. Archer, for uncle will not like you to leave without luncheon." "Whether I do or not, Miss Grainger, the next few minutes must decide," he answered impressively. Then leaning aver towards her, his eyes ardent, full :f fire, seeking hers, he continued: "You must decide, Miss Grainger.— "Surely you can guess, yon must Know nat I have to say?"

Flo's cheek was pale, her eyes were lowered, her hands trembled as die strove to draw rein, for they were entering a thick grove of trees, as she murmured faintly: "I hope, not—I—I think not that is, there are some things better never said."

A shadow passed over his handsome

"But this thing must.be said." be answered. "Whatever your reply, whatever my wretched fate, I must now speak. Nay, do not stpp, do not seek to turn your horse. Florence, Florence, wtthali du are

Sfe

Florence,

Florence, my destiny, my happiness are in your hands. Speak, reflect btofore you answer. Think that you have it in

our power to render a man's life-*-a now full of healthful hope, of joy and energy—a useless ruin, a misery, a wreck. One little word can do this then, Florence, as yon are powerful be merciful, pity, fpityl"

His hand on her bridle, the horses had paced side by side into the deeper recesses of the forest, and Flo was helpless to check theif progress, for Herbert Archfer's fervent passion overwhelmed her. His dark eyes once on hers, she felt unable to avoid, them, they held her like a spell. Then as he abruptly bent his head before her on his hands, and almost passionately sobbed forth his prayer for her mercy, her lip trembled, tears swam into her eyes. "Do not speak thus! Do not say that!" she ejaculated, distressed. "Oh. yon must not, Mr. Archer, you—you must not think of me in that way. Oh, I have wished so often to -tell you, but —but I could not. How could IV" "Tell me what, Florence? In the name of Heaven, what?" he cried, abruptly catching her hand. "You knew my love—you saw how I worshipped you?" "I feared so," she whispered with averted face. "Feared!" jg* "Because I could not return it." "No, no, ho!" he broke in, "not that. )r feared you could not? Surely, Flornce, such a passion as mine must win esponse. Listen, dearest. You are to ae all in all. My dreams! are peopled "nrith your sweet presence. My waking thoughts have you ever before them. I worship you. Be mine, Florence, and my love shall never havfc beeri equalled. My one idfca, my one effort, shall be to assure your happiness. Not a wish but I will trv to eratifv it. Do with me

won you will. Orive me tnu flan a ism* takame as I am, .Florence only give ymirhajaffto press your Up?your slaro —but yet your husband. Give me at least hope that in time this may be!"

Oh, pray, pray cease," implored Flo "Uh, pray, pray cease," impiorea jrio

He drew slightly back. A strange whiteness was on his face, his lips were set, his dark eyes were full of fire as he looked upon the young girl, her head drooped, averted. Then he leaned near, his tones husky. "Florence, reflect you know not what you say. You know not me. You must, you shall be mine. I cannot live without you." "Mr. Archer she ejaculated, her pride aroused. Then she cowered and shrunk away as her gaze lighted on his face. "Yes, Florence, mine you must be mine. Though you were to *hate me, 1 must yet love you. I must call you wife."

She uttered a cry of alarm and moved her horse. Rapidly his hand was on the rein. "No, Florence, dearest Florence! you must not leave me until you have promised. Do not fear, darling. I will not harm you, but I cannot let you go until I have your promise." "Never!" exclaimed Flo, her anger roused. "Mr. Archer, you are a coward to speak thus, to threaten' me. I despise you."

As she spoke, by a quick, sudden movement she plucked the bridle from him. The horse reared and swervld sharply round. A cry of pain burst from Flo's lips, for her temple had come in violent contact with the branch of a tree. She swayed in her saddle, then dropped back, ner senses for a moment leaving her.

Herbert Archer had seen the accident and, with an exclamation Of alarm, darted forward in time to prevent her falling. In a space his manner had changed. Terror, as he gazed on the pale, lovely face resting on his shoulder. dominated aB other feelings. "Florence, my Florence!" he exclaimed, "speak, dearest. She has fainted. Yes, only that."

Lifting her tenderly in his strong arms, he dismounted and rested her on the grass, supporting her head on his arm. Would she not come to? How still the air was if it would but blow on her face. How tightly the ridinghabit gripped the soft, white throat.

In a second his nervous fingers had untied the ribbon, and plucked open the first buttons of the habit to admit the breeze. That was better, the life waa coming back.

Ah! what was that? A slender hair chain fastened about the throat. They were sacred, beloved treasures worn like that.

Herbert Archer felt the blood rush to his head, then swiftly back to his heart.

It was dishonorable, but that should not deter him. He threw one hurried glance round then drew the hair chain forth. As he had guessed, a miniature locket was attached.

Her father's likeness ^Perhaps her mother's. Something whispered to him it was neither.1 Eagerly he pressed the spring. The coVer opened, and a deep curse burst from his lips as he beheld the young, handsome, manly face that smiled—to him it seemed defiantly—out of the locket. "Is this my rival? Is it a dead or living one?" he muttered. "Is this why she refused me? If so—better for him if dead, or better for both if he never crosses my path."

A movement of Flo's, who was recovering, aroused him. Closing the locket be returned it to its sacred resting-place, buttoned the throat of the habit, and clumsily enough tied the ribbon then he drew to a respectful distance waiting her recovery.

No sooner did recollection return than Fid sprang to her feet. .. "Do riot be alarmed," said Herbert Archer, "the branch of yonder tree struck you, and yott fainted. I trust you are not much hurt." "More mentally than physically .sir," she responded, coldly, "where is my servant? How is it ne is not here?" "He is here—see^' as Jeck loomed in sight. "Your insensibility lasted but a few second^" "But for you, Herbert Archer, it would never have occurred/' she rejoined, haughtily. "No, sir I can dispense with your help and your escort," as she sprang into the saddle unaided. "I can neither forgive your words nor your behavior." "Florence, is the great love I bear you no excuse?" he pleaded. "I cannot' will not believe that, unless"—he fixed his eyes intently on her—k*I have a rival."

The blood mounted to her Cheek, but she replied quietly: "Mr. Archer, you have forfeited all right to put that question. You and I can scarcely be friends even any longer. Farewell."

She turned her horse's head as she •poke. He stood near his. "Jflorence," he said, "you are dearer to me than all women. Iyet must hope —I will."

She did not perceive the expression in, his eyes as she moved away. It was that of a man who had formed a resolve, and would let nothing balk him. She made no response, but, gathering her reins, was about to ride from the trees, when the silence was broken by the sound of a clear, rich, manly voice singing: "I love to hear the ringing rifle,

The smiting ax, the falling tree ,: What though our life be poor.and Jowly,

r*:

if it be honest, what care Flo Grain, horse roun sounds: her breath came quickly a startled yet joyous light' Was in her eyes as she fixed, them along the vista of trees, flecked \rith bright "stiiishine.

totaid

iiger had quickly swung her ia in the direction or the quicti

Herbert Archer kad also turned. "By Jove, Mark." added a voice as the sonc ceased, "it's all v^rv wpll to sav

kea himself

firoblematical,

THE TERRE HAUTE WIDELY GAZETTE,

estop*? con*

B: as. side oy siae with nil brother He came through the trees upon the others then he dashed forward, as

UUH»S

piteous!?, whohad become nervously-- thftgirlaJ aware that Jeck was not in sight. "Mr. Can it be? he ejaculated. Archer, you should not speak like that, tnjWV 4 it is not like a man—you—you frighten ..f/1"1?1

sight

Archer, you should not speak like that, »t like a man—you—you frighten me." ^otriike ffmaHtoiove? To lore to your own sacrifice, to fed even the scorn and frown of (me woman are better than the most honeyed smiles of all the rest Oh, Florence, you cannot say no to such an affection. If you have the heart of a woman it must move you." "It does, deeply, Mr. Archer," she rejoined, trying to steady her agitated voice. "The more so that I cannot requite it. Oh, do not ask for hope. It would be wrong, cruel, to let you have that belief. I respect you—I like you much—but—but no more."

CHAPTER IV. «,_

HARK HILTON SCENTS DAHOBB.

In that happy reunion neither Flo nor Philip haa a thought to spend on Herbert Archer. Their hands clasped, for a space they were silent in their suririse, their eyes speaking, however,

and—you are so beauti-

ul that I have feared, and had terrible dreams, wherein I saw you another's." "Even had that occurred. Philip, as I confess, once or twice, to please my uncle and aunt, it might," she answered simply, "my love would ever have been yours. But Heaven watched overme— yes, it must have done—preventing me taking a step I must ever have repented." "Then your affection is still mine, darling?" he asked eagerly. "As ever, Philip. Nothing, I feel, can ever alter it."

He Taised her little hand passionately to his lips. "Heaven must have watched over me also, Flo." he remarked. "It has helped me to find you, and to claim you as mine."

As he spoke a change came over hia features they became grave as he continued: "That is. if Heaven Will yet befriend fife, dearest, and enable me, to _win the fortune to maintain a wife.

"Ah, trattnen I had notifoi

[uicklyand drew

foeter-

*Flor11

"My-nval^hissed Herbert Areherthrongh hirteeth, and, leaping on his horse, he dashed away among the trees. "Hallo!" reflected Mark,'who had observed the dark, threatening scowl,

4'who

is that, I wonder? Whoever it is, there's danger in him, I'd svtear. If it is to Mr. Phil, hell find he's got two to deal with."

pm Ian guage more eloquent than words, la it a dream? Can it be? It seems •o wonderful/* finally exclaimed Flo. "Dream! Pray Heaven, no!" ejaculated Philip Bathurst. "It would be cruelty indeed again to lose you, Florence, after all my search." "Your search? Have you searched for me then, Philip?" a pleased tender light in her eyes. ^'Have I not, dearest? Adelaide and Melbourne are well acquainted with the name of Grainger by this time. Nevertheless, failure pursued me." "Ah," she smiled, "if you had only tried Sydney. But why the need of search,Thilip? I left word with Susan to tell you all." "Thereby hangs a tale," laughed Philip Bathurst, his heart light enough now as he gazed once more into the race of his beloved. "That very morning after our last interview, a telegram summoned me to my uncle, who had met with an accident, and the letter I wrote you under cover to Susan, informing you of the cause of my absence, fell somehow into the hands of Miss Dawes _j„i..... "Oh, Philip, never!" .f "It's a fact, and. ha, ha, ha! what a commotion it created. When I returned, and could not see you nor Susan, who at once had been packed off bag and baggage, driven to despair I called on Miss Dawes, when, after favoring me with every opprobrious epithet a lady can use, she showed me to the door no wiser than when I came." "Poor Philip! had I had time to write 1 did not know where to address you, and I was crushed by sorrow. My father-—" "I am aware, dearest," he interrupted, to save her the pain of the recital, seeing the tears suffusing her eyes. "One of Miss Dawes's pupils, a dark, lively brunette, divining the truth took compassion upon me, and managed to convey to me the intelligence, and also your address in London?' "That was Maude Pierce," smiled Flo "she used to quiz me unmercifully about you, Philip." "I know she won my warmest gratitude, though the news came too late.— On reaching Lad brook-crescent I found you twain flown. Ah, it is well to laugh now, out, oh, the misery to me of that period, darling. All I could learn was that you had gone away with an uncle, it was believed to Australia." "Poor Philip!" and instinctively the girl put her gloved hand on his. "And in all this did your love remain mine?" "Flo, can you doubt it? If so, there's Mark, my foster-brother, yonder he shall tell you, with unmistakable proof, it did. And yours, dearest? You were sO young then, so long a time has elapsed, our ever meeting again was so

Yes, it's

true—don't look frightened, but I am a beggar. Mark and

are on our

even now wealth "You lated. "Yes," he laughed, "theyoung swell you kriew at Brighton, Flo, wno did nothing to kill time but smoke on the esplanade, do a little boating and sailing, who scented his handkerchief with mfllfleur, and wore anew pair of gloves every day, liuw is .compelled to wear Solomon's clothes instead of Poole's, to dispense with the luxuries of perfume

ban pick "Oh, Philip!" and the gentle eyes were full of concern. "But "But I told you I was heir to a rich uncle. Sol was. Flo but rich uncles are arbitrary, and often want too much their own way. Near.his estate was another. find Unci" Bathurst, so that the two should be united, desired me to wed the heiress.

IIp

save me my choice—

the I^dy, or—disinheritance. I confess

I was such a lazy, luxurious fellow, that

smile on her lips, "but the realitv scarcely comes up to the sentiment. "WLut. von heard me?'1 he lauched.

By the Way, you

had a dent Flo Colored ae she answered: "A friend—a friend of my uncle's.— His station is the next to Shady Creek. But come, Philip." she proceeded, to present Uie turn rhe conversation, had taken, "I must introduce you to my unele and auufc I can' promise him who ftonfin savedme injury, perhaps death. eonae.

old Jeck, who was never happier than when talking, and whose tongue was so loosely hung that in flvo minutes Mark h&d learned almost everything about Shady Creek, ita sayings and doings, and also Herbert Archer." "He very rich—Misser Archer," as he and Ids companion followed their master and mistress "he marry Missie Florence." "Marry Miss Grainger!" cried Mark. "Zackly. He love ner. Missie love him. Jeck sure he ask her "be his wife this very noon." "If so," reflected Mark, "1 imagine Mr. Phil will just put a spoke in his wheel. Now I understand that look. He's a rival. If Mr. Phil carries off Miss Grainger, Mr. Phil must look out."

Lovers are proverbial for neither walking nor riding fast. Thus nearly an hour elapsed before the little party came in sight of Shady Creek. Once during that time Mark had felt certain he haa caught sight of Herbert Archer hovering stealthily among the trees on their track.

It occurred to him how easily in this wild and beautiful wilderness a rifleball might fell its victim, and yet the flrar Sfifo* "I'll just speak to Mr. Phil," he pondered "then if he's really ousting this Herbert Archer, Herbert Archer sna'n't move a dozen yards that I dont know of, until I am aware of his purpose." "Colonel, come here. Who is this with Florence? Not Mr. Archer," exclaimed Mrs. Crane, seated in a rocking-chair in the verandah.

The colonel, coming from the inner room, inspected the approaching party. "Not .Aicher? No. Never saw him before. Some one Flo's picked up in the bush." "Picked up in the bush! You speak, brother, as if strangers were blackberries. Who can it be?" "We shall soon know, Kate, for they have alighted, and are coming straight here. He's a fine, manly-looking fellow, and a gentleman, I'd swear."

A moment after Flo had ascended the verandah, followed by Philip Bathurst. There was a glow on her cheeks, a sparkle in her eyes, which, however, slightly fell before the colonel's steady gaze. "Uncle, aunt," she said, "let me introduce to you Mr. Bathurst, the genfeiemanjvho saved me when my horse *rair away from Brighton. I knew that the hospitality which is accorded to eve: trel owetr my "This he!" cried Colonel Grainger. "You are right. Florence. Sir, you are welcome—heartily welcome," extending his hand. "We owe you much." "Indeed, Colonel Grainger," began Philip "the time is "So long back that, like a generous man, you have forgotten your good deeds out, sir, I can assure you we nave not forgotten our gratitude. Welcome, I repeat, to Shady Creek. Sit down, perhaps you have been riding far." "Since five o'clock, colonel, this morning. We eamped.out last night." "Camped out, Mr. Bathurst? Your station "I have no station as vet that is, I hope, to come," smiled Philip. "J am on my way to the diggings." "Really. I hope, however, you are not in such haste to get to Tom Tiddler's ground but that you will give us a day or two of your society? Kate, pray see that refreshment, is prepared."

eiyone at Shady Creek, would be jbiv, so to him to whom I may have irea my life."

Mrs. Crane, putting down tier work, entered the house, bidding Flo follow. She was very thoughtful. The lines in her forehead were deeper as she gave her orders. As she returned, looking her niece in the face, she said abruptly: "Flo, you've been a mystery to me, but now I expect I know 'all about it.— Mr. Bathurst is the reason why you would never think of Herbert Archer."

Oh, auntie, dear auntie!" and the

1 hii her blushing face on the old [y's bosom. "Yes, you are right 1 love him so dearly. But I fancied we

£3

should never meet again, therefore was silent. Now, auntie, I will tell you all. Yon will not be angry?" "That depends, child. What is he?"

gentleman, auntie."

"That's not everything. What's he got with which to keep you, child?" To which Flo made this frank and

avowal: auntie. He is

beggar."

"Only now. He is going to make a

S)nt

i't you

ri. ou marry a beggar! cry. I suppose you

will wait until the fortune's made. But

you'll see what your uncle will say to it. Mr. Bathurst, I trust, will not accept his hospitality under false pretenses." "Oh, auntie, I am sure he Will not. He is a gentleman." "Oh, handsome is hajidsome

was annoyed at this evident obstacle. One thing consoled her, the knowledge that her brother would never let Flo marry a penniless suitor, though he was a gentleman.

On their entering the sitting-room thrv found the two had quitted the veriindah, and were pacing backwards and forwards by the gum-trees in serious talk. Flo's heart fell. What could they be speaking about?

be speaking abou }, no Philip it Cra

ne than Philip Bathurst, as if he Aunt Crane's remark re

had heard

tak$h the lady, had .not my guardian ang^l, in the remembrance of a sweet dtar face I had loved, aud lost in Brighton, interposed and saved me. So I accepted disinheritance, and started for Australia to make a fortune, and find, if Fate would be good to me—as it has —Miss Florence Grainger." "Oh, Philip!'' the girl's lips trembled, and her eyes were bright with tears "you accepted poverty far ipy. sake?" "Yes. Flo,'' nonnced Nay, don commonly ^"By it'^MlVeryw^fl /o SaysO,-*1 Ke9 seriously: Srtfd Ffo, imitating his" voice, a mfrrfy *mcelv,

specting false pretenses, determined to P1 acquaint the colonel with the truth of hi love, and his position, boldly asking his consent, as her guardian, to his and Florence's engagement. Thus he remarked: "Colonel Grainger, will you grant me a few moment's private conversation, as I feel I have no right to accept your hospitality without first acquainting

banishing

1 1

*ove ^er-

Bathurst?"

passionately."

And Florence loves you?"

ts!iP

dops rnlnnel. Hut she hav«

,'Cv v-

told you so?" inquired tne young y«n eagerly. ••Shenastoldsikanothintr. Howaver. reaa tne trutn ner eyes wmen sne introduced you. I regret she has been so secretive." "PQjjotbUuMher, colonel. Bather Maine me wno am the elder. Besides, we neither believed we should have the happiness to meet again. Our love has h^been^ittle fnftto^r^^ro^^ff^h approval. May I tell it you? May I also Inform you who I am, for as yet I am a stoanger." "Yes." said the colonel, rising. "We will go yonder by the gum-trees. We shall be undisturbed."

In his secret heart he was already taken by the frank, outspoken manliness of Philip Bathurst. He remembered, however, it was probably Florence's future at stake, and fair seeming was not always fair doing. Of course, as natural sequence, Flo, a school girl, would fall in love with a young, handsome fellow but who was this fellow? An,adventurer.perhaps.

Who he was Philip Bathurst was not slow to inform him, and each sentence he uttered the more won the colonel. He saw now why Flo had never inclined toward Herbert Archer, and loved the girl for her fidelity. "You know now, Colonel Grainger, who I am, also my prospects," concluded Philip. "And the latter, you will own, Mr. Bathurst," remarked the other dryly, "are not very brilliant." "On the contrary," smiled Philip, "they are almost below zero. Still, for stock-in-trade I have hope, youth, health, and a determination to succeed. Besides, though that is the last thing I could advance, my uncle may relent." "Then what do you need of me?" "First I wish, colonel, to have nothing hidden from you. Secondly, your consent to my marriage with your niece when I have acquired a home and an income worthy of her acceptance." "Mr. Bathurst," rejoined the colonel, halting in the path, "you have been frank with me I will be the same. I ought to be, for I owe you gratitude but it is Hot that. I like you. You have spoken honestly and like a man. Win the fortune, ana if by advice I can aid you I will. Ill not ask a large one, and if Flo keeps of the same mind, my consent is yours. There's my hand upon it."

Philip grasped the soldier's palm with much emotion. Every obstacle, apparently, was fading from his path. After all, now smoothly the course of their lovepromised to run. "Now I see the ladies have returned," proceeded the colonel, "let us join them. You must need refreshment."

That evening, as Flo stood in the verandah watching the silver moon rising over the distant range of hills, Philip came out to her. "Oh, Philip." die murmured, as he stood by her side, "you have told uncle everything. I am so, so glad." "I could not have accepted his hospitality, darling, without doing so." ne answered. ,, v. "And he says?" "That you may be mine, love, directly I have a home to offer you."

W a a "What, dearest?" "I thought I heard a rustle among the bushes yonder."

The young man went towards them, but all was still. "It was nothing, or, at least, only some night bird, love," he said, returning at the same moment the colonel called from within: "Come, oome, Flo the night air is yet chill. We must have no coldcatching. Besides, Mr. Bathurst, we are early people in the bush."

Philip and Florence at once entered. The windows were closed, and the blinds drawn.

Directly it was so, the figure of a man stole from the bushes, moved swiftly and cautiously to the gate, and disappeared among the shadows of the trees.

Half an hour later, Philip Bathurst, entering his bedroom, found Mark waiting him. "You here, Mark? I say, old fellow, we have fallen into comfortable quarters, eh?" exclaimed the young fellow. "There's not a man on earth happier than I am to-night." "Then, Mr. Phil, you've told the colonel?" "And got his consent, Mark. I have but to win a fortune, to win a bride." "Win a fortune, Mr. Phil, and overcome an enemy." "An enemy? Why, man, I can have none here.'r "A bitter one, if I mistake not, Mr. Phil. Do you remember, when we came upon Miss Grainger, sbe had a companion?" "Yes, a friend of the colonel's." "And a lover of the niece's. If I judged him rightly, he will not easily brook your coming between them." "Nonsense, Mark! What absurdity!"

You ought to have seen the look he gave you, Mr. Phil." "Possibly, Mark. I can imagine the look I should give in his case But looksvold fellow, never killed yet. Why, how grave you are! Surely." with a merry laugh, "you don't think, my unfortunate rival will order one out to a round of fisticuffs, or challenge me to a duel? Just because we have left England behind us, Mark, we have not civilization. Our camping out, I itckon, has made you nervous. There, old fellow, get to bed. think jre both shall sleep soundly to-night."

Mark Hilton took his leave ashamed to state his fears further, but his opinion was by no means altered. "Mr. Phil didnt see his look," he repeated mentally as he turned into bed. To- owitiou tk«n ofth story will foa 'din th^ proceeding usues o: thi piper.

y—--«•

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Address with ataR rv

PEARLINE

I HE IIFS THING KXOWX I'Hr

^shir^andBleachin H«nl Hot sr CaW Water. J#'. CIMK Mid 80i*»» AMA

it in iT a to I t., rich or t. s&ould be without it. v.*rs. BE WAKE of imitatlir' -••1 ^csiuuca to mislead.

PUARLIKE

vAI 'fc .t)tiir-saving compound, vtr.TH tlio ftl-ove symbol, and name at

fVUS. raw YORK.

THE

'miration OF TBS

W O

Mrs. S. A Allen 'Si

WORLDS

HairRestorer

IS PERFECTION/hu Fmblie BenAcitrw. Mrs.

,=• ft', A. ALLEN has justly earned this tide, and thousands are this day rejoicing

,, ing, invigorating, and beautifying the Hair. Her World's Hair Restorer quickly cleanses the scalp, removing

color, giving it the same vitality and Insurious qoaatity as in yovth. OOKPUMXVTABT. "My

hair is. now restored to its youthful color I have not a gray hair left. I am sat-

isfied that the preparation 7,Ms not a dye, but acts on the secretions. My hair

BEFORE -AND AFTEjOl

lectifc Appiiancfit are sent on 30 Days' Trial.

0 wm QFILY, rou -n OR OLD.

1 HO are rafferln* from Ksuvors Dsnurr, •/aV,

Cosr VITALITY, LACK

-V

over a fine head of hair produced by her unequaled preparation for restor

,n«i

Dandruff and soresti the fall the hair, if gray, is changed to its natural

ceased to fall, which is certainly.an advantage to me, who was in danger of becoming bald." This is the testimony of all who use Mrs. St ^ALLEN'S WORLD'S HAIR RESTORER.

Hilt* That is the

expression of many who have had tketr gray hair res«»cd to its naturbl

RSSTOUB.

Itisaotadye.

or Ksarie

sit SljCUt.

FORCE MI

m*#. .V A#rtx" vKSES-iaa. and il those diseases ^ATRXR: AXTSES art Sfffiy r':! r.I coair.ote restu'

.'uuirmn, Cectwrjr.

*LT» I'ACSES. •jon"' joo»aiv« Uswv® 'lisoovcrr of tbc

l«rll'lflstratwii i^ijih:cyr,ee. Ad4rcu8

«TAJH 3ILT .J3,

SOMETHING ',°R.

HaiiVhwv t* feS

«n'.l Streeimeti st

.Send stunii or pMgecxta- 6?*

V. a- is*