The Syracuse Journal, Volume 1, Number 8, Syracuse, Kosciusko County, 18 June 1908 — Page 3

A LONELY GIRL

CHAPTER XV. Last night there had been rain as the darkness grew to 'dawn, and now a soft moisture is rising from the leaves lying on the sodden ground. Amber, picking her steps delicately, not on the but on the spongy moss that skirts it, goes on her way through the almost leafless wood, her head a little bent and a smile upon her lips that is half sweet, half sad, and full of-a new wonderment. The night gone by had been a strange one for her. For the first time in all her curious girlhood, she had, for one thing, lain wide awake as hour by hour went by, thinking, thinking, and her thoughts carried her far, and far, but always back to one center. That kiss upon her hand! It had gone from her hand to her heart and stayed there.’ What did it mean? That is the burden of all her thinking. Does he love her? Can he love her? Her! her! It is a tremendous question, and takes great answering. A whole sleepless night long —lying with sleepless eyes working it out —is surely but a very short time to give to so momentous, so wonderful, scAShe hardly knows what sort of question it is. At breakfast, held in bondage still by this worrying thought, she hardly dares to look at Hilary; and breakfast over, had slipped away to the eternal comfort, and rest, of the silent woods. Here she will work it out. Here she will be able to think indeed. Softly, but with a little chill in it, blows the wind. Now there are but few leaves left to play with it, to make a pretty fight, to shake their green and tender pennons in its face with saucy defiance. Will she ever “forget”? All at once, walking quietly through the woods, she knows that she never will. She knows that she loves him. Such knowledge is an education in itself. The girl stands quite still staring ■straight before her. She loves him, and he loves her. She is quite as sure of one as of the other. Her soul seems to soar to heaven as this blest thought enters into it; and thqp all at once, in, the twinkling of an eye as it were, it sinks to hell. To love him, to permit him to love her,'wjll mean ruin to him! Sir Lucien would not hear of a marriage between them—-and —Sir Lucien has it in his power to disinherit him. Mr. Everard had told her that. And —and of course there is something to be said for Sir > Lucien. She will be fair! Quite fair. A girl whose father is accused of doing away with very valuable jewels that in no way belonged to him, is , hardly a girl one would wish one’s heir to marry. Unless the jewels are restored/and her father’s name cleared of'dishonor, all joy and hope in her life are at an end. It is at this point of her sad reflections that she lifts her eyes and sees Erian Deane standing a few yards away from her. She is conscious that she starts a little at his sudden appearance, but going quickly forward she gives him her hand, which he takes and holds, staring eagerly at her face. “Alone!” says he. All the love for her that his wild untutored heart undoubtedly knows, does not prevent the touoh’”of sarcasm that enters into his voice. “Not even the handsome cousin to keep you company. Or, perhaps,” with sudden darkening of his frowning brows, “you are on your way to meet him?” “I have come out to meet nobody,” says Amber coldly, and with a glance of scorn. “I’m glad to hear it. I have been” waiting about the place for# days in the hope of seeing you.” “Why should you do that? Why not come straight to the house, and ask to see me? You,” with a little rush, as though the thought is distasteful to her—“ydu are my cousin.” “With all. that lot round you? No! I wanted to see you alone. You remember that last conversation I had with< you?” “No,” distinctly. “I thought it wiser to forget it.” “Your wisdom doesn’t seem to have helped you,” says he with an ugly sneer. “It’s hard to forget—isn’t it? Does anyone forget, I wonder? I would to heaven it weren’t so hard, for then I might perhaps be able to forget you! But I can’t, you see. That’s what it comes to. I can’t put you out of my mind.” “Why do you talk to me like this, Brian,” says the girl very gently, “when you know that it is so useless?” “What I know,” says he, his pale, dogged face now a dull crimson, “is that it shall not be useless. No! Mine you shall be.” 4 Suddenly catching her by both her arms, he compels her with brute force so to turn that a fuller light from the dull sky falls upon her face.' * “You think you love that fellow! Yotf think that he loves you. I tell you, you are a fool. Doubly a fool.” “Take your hands away, Brian,” says she at last, not angrily, not nervously—but with a cold courage, a haughty command, that seems to go to his very soul. He releases her instantly. “Os course I quite understand that you hardly know what you are saying or doing,” she goes on; “therefore I forgive you, and shall bear you n® ill-will.” She lightly brushes down the sleeves of her coat where has hands had held her) All the most violent words of contempt or anger she could have showered upon him could not have conveyed to him -half so clearly as this slow and simple gesture the state of her mind towards him. It is" casting him from her into outer darkness indeed! “111-will from you to me! Why, lam the one who loves you 1 You—are the. only thing I love on earth —the only thing I ever have loved. You think that Captain Adare will marry you! I tell you he neither will nor can. His uncle would disinherit him if he did so. But I—love you 1" “I am sorry,” says she very kindly, . ' -a ;

very sweetly, but as he feels, finally. “What do you mean?” cries he fiercely. “Be sorry for yourself ! When he shows you plainly at the last, that his uncle’s thousands are more to him than a penniless girl—a girl,too, with the story of her father’s dishonor hung round her neck, as her only wedding ornament” —here he laughs, wildly, “how will it be with you then?" “Listen to me,” says she, her voice vibrating with some hidden feeling. “Let me speak. I tell you I shall not marry Captain Adare, or any other man, until my father’s memory has been made clear. You alone can clear it, if indeed”—here she pales perceptibly—“you speak the truth.” She goes nearer to him—her eyes are burning into his. “Is it the truth, Brian? Is it? Why don’t you answer? Why don’t you speak? You say you love me—and love means sacrifice. And if you do know where those dreadful jewels are, give them to Sir Lucien. Give them,” she throws out her hands to him in a little passion of entreaty, “and so far at least prove that my poor father was, nbt a thief!” “And so leave you free to marry Adare.” “Oh, no! oh, no! I was not thinking of that.” “If I did what you Isay”-—he has come very close to her —“would you marry me?” He waits, and waits—and still waits. Then she lifts her face! It would have been so simple a thing to promise, and then, when the jewels* were restored, to refuse to fulful her pledge. But when she lifts her face it is so white and lined with grief that he hardly knows it. Still, she has decided. “No!” says she in a faint, sad tone. His nostrils dilate. “You say that with a face like death itself! Has his supposed -love brought you to look like that? I tell you the time will come when you will be glad to cast all thoughts of him behind you, and marry me!” “I shall never marry you,” says she firmly. They are both standing on the pathway, staring at each other, when a shadow falls between them. Amber’s eyes are still flashing as she raises them to see Sir Lucien. CHAPTER XIV “Oh, yes, I think you will,” says Sir Lucien, coming forward and addressing Amber. “I quite sure you will.” He had only heard the last sentence of tLe conversation between Deane and Amber. “I don’t think so,” coldly. “When I tell you all the facts of the case,” says Sir Lucien, still very agreeably, “I am sure you will see your way to another answer. The fact is that your cousin here knows something about those lost stones of bur house, that your poor mother was entrusted with in a weak moment, by my father—and- ” “Pray spare yourself the trouble of going into it,” says Amber, with a wonderful calm. “I know all about.it! Mr. Deane,” with a glance at him from under haughty, half-closed lids that should have Withered him, “Mr. Deane knows where those jewels are, on which you have set your heart, and the price he sets on their delivery to you is—me. Well,” turning faintly upon them, with grief and tears .and terror and reproach in her beautiful eyes, “I am not for sale!” “You forget one point,” says Sir Lucien, his voice perfectly calm. “It is tc clear your father’s memory that we desire this thing. If Mr. Deane can produce these gems, then the suspicion of you)' father’s having made away with them i:i at an end. If you marry this most estimable cousin of yours, he has promised to let me know where the stones are concealed. You see how the case lies.” He looks at her for the first time fully. “You will consent?” * “No,” says* Amber, for the second time. Her tone is fuller, now, however, anl much stronger. “You refuse!” Sir Lucien’s face of affected suavity now clouds into a sort cf fury. “You refuse! who have been reported as so anxious for the clearing cf your father’s memory in this matter.” “My father,” says the girl clearly, “would not have had me clear his memory at the expense of my own happiness. Be loved me too much for that. ■’ You!” st.e lifts her eyes to Sir Lucien’s—“you, who have never loved anyone, cannot, of course, understand this.” “Hypocrite I” cries Sir Lucien furiously. “You, who have paraded your longing to see your father’s memory made sweet, now, when the chance comes to you, refuse to use it.” “I am no hypocrite,” says the girl, standing straight and firm before him. “I am no sycophant either. I feel” —she turas takes a step away from them—“l shall be t- Brian,” looking back imperiously waff luring the dog-cart for me as soon as you can.” Sir Lucien is about to give a hasity consent to this order, when his glance happens to fall bn Deane. The strange, forbidding, but handsome face is dark with anger; a .stronger, more dangercue anger, than even the girl’s refusal to marry him had called forth. As he looks the older man gasps the truth. Any insult to Amber-—will be deeply, violently resented by this strange, uncouth man “No, no,” exclaims Sir Lucien, with a gesture of his hands. “I shall not allow you, my guest, my—niece—to leave my house before your visit has come to an end. There is no need for such violent temper on your part.” She is silent. War is raging within her —war between love and pride. To gc is to satisfy the latter. To stay is to tatisfy her love! Ohl to be with him for even a few hours longer! To see him, to be near him; though never, never, can he be more to her than he is now. That he loves her, she 'knows. Her clear, sweet instinct has brought that home to Iter.

though not a word has been said by him ■ to her that she can dream upon. Nothing, accept that kiss upon her hand last night. What magic lay in it! what wondrous charm! she—she alone can tell. And because of that sweet knowledge, and with its power full upon her, she wrestles with, and overcomes her pride, and, as all true lovers will, lets love stand triumphant!" “As you wish,” returns she coldly, to Stir Lucien. “My visit, however, will be over in a few days.” , “In the meantime,” says Sir Lucien, who is afraid of Deane s frowning watchfulness, “you will, I hope, understand that you are a very welcome guest within cay doors.” She lifts her eyes to his for a moment ; it is a little time, but his sink before hers, jfhen, turning away fiom both men, she is soon lost amongst th a trees and bushes. “A troublesome subject,” says Sir Lucien, shrugging his shoulders as she disappears, and turning to Deane, whose gaze is still fixed on the corner where the last inch or so of her gown had been seen. “You have courage, my good Deane! You might make a better bargain with me, perraps. “Her or nothing!” The answer comes clear and stern. Sir Lucien suppresses eery cleverly an expression of deep disgust. What fools sone men are, he tells himself, and all forth a sake of a woman, “You have given me your word that I can have the girl it. exchange for the gems. That’s good enough for me. But it will take time and help.” “It shall be as you will,” slowly—icily, “As 1 4 will! What about her? Can you compel her to my will?” “I think so. But 1 tell you that she’s in love with that nephew of yours, and that it wil take you ill your time to get her to marry me.” “In love with Hilary?” “I don’t know wha : his name is," saye Deane sulkily, “but Um talking of your nephew, anyway.” “I am sufe you are mistaken.” “Are you?” with i snarl. “I’m not Jou think you know a lot, don’t you? I tell you she is in love with him, and I tell you once more, he is in love with her!” ” * “No, no! Impossible. I have watched them. Impossible, I tell you. And even if it were true” —reading and answering the look in the other man’s sac shall come to nothing. His life, his future, lies in my hand. Lies” (holding out his exquisitely shaped old Land and pointing to the hollow of the palm) “here!” His voice has fallen very low, but his eyes tell a good deal. .They at all events convey to Deane tie certainty that if Adare should persist in his mad infatuation for Amber, Sir Lucien would cut him off with the proverbial shilling. “I can see what you mean,” says Deane, still in a very surly tone. Aud then, “You will be it Madam’s dance?” “I don’t think so/’ says Sir Lucien, who abhors Madain and all her works. “You had better be there,” says ths other with a threatening air. “I shal! want your support your countenance You’ll have to keep an eye on the girl thai night, whilst I”—he takes a step nearer to Sir Lucien, and lays his hand upor his shoulder. “A wJrd, Adare.” Sir Lucien winces at . i his familiarity—“l shall keep an eye on him. Then, ws shall compare notes, and know. One has. only one pair of eyes, my good fellow. You’ll help me?” “You forget yourself, sir, when you speak to me Ijke that,” Sir Lucien, his brows darkening. “Go, 'sir. Go !” haughtily. “Oh! None of your rot,"” returns Deane, with a coarse laugh. “Do you think you can dismiss me now, with an uppish word or two? Have you forgotten those letters of yours? You’ll come to that dance, do you hear? You spoke a moment ago of having four precious nephew in your hand. Well, as you hold him, so I hold yon.” He spreads Out his palm towards him. “Here! Just here!” say® h« with a laugh of dial»olical delight. (To be continued.) She Made Matters* Worse. “They say country folks are too blunt,” remarked Miss Lamson, “but you give me a blunt one every time, instead of one of these folks that thinks she has so much tact she’d better go round smoothing off other people’s edges.” “That Mis’ Prouty boarding .over to The Willows been here?” inquired her brother, solicitously. “Yes, she has!” snapped Miss Lamson. “She came yesterday, bringing that young woman from Boston to see our old china and so on. “She was a kind of a blundering girl, and when she asked me if father made that hundred-an< 1-twenty-five-year-old high-boy, and if the china that I’d told ’em was over eighty-five years old to my knowledge was one of mother’s wedding presents, it kind of tickled me. “But in come that Prouty woman alone to-day, saying she felt she must apologize for her friend. That she was very young and ‘hadn’t any appreciation of relative ages,’ and ‘of course it was perfectly absurd for any one to talk that way, wil h my hair still thick on my head,’ and a lot more talk like that x .x’* ' * « uo it as; well ’aFl could, and thanked her for her -good intentions, but I can tell you that whereas I had a good laugh yesterday and felt quite young and skittish, to-day I feel old enough for father to have made that high-boy, and had a few years to spare beside!" The Vl’lly Owl. A party of horsemen were traveling along Bridge creek, a tributary of Bad Water river, Wyoming, when their horses suddenly shied off the track at the sound of a “rattle.” Search waa made for the snase, but it was finally found that the srand proceeded from the burrowing owl, which lives tn ths burrows of the prairie dog, often, It B said, to company with the rattlesnake. Seated on a poet the party heard ths owl give a third irattle. And whenever they passed the spot ft gave warning by its rattle, aid the hearses always shied off the track In alarm.—Amerh can Naturalist. ,

11 ■ 1 ’ ""-l'/t —— . ' 111 * i

I New Figure for Women. Long graceful lines are the thing now, ladies. The new empire and db

land them. And the new slanting front corsets insure them. No matter how hard you have, tried to acquire hips and curves, fashion decrees that they must go. A few minutes in the parlors of a fashionable importer were convincing. “Look carefu'ly at the woman who has just come in,” said the interpreter of modes. “Bier

rectoire gowns dem: ■ 1 • I

THE NEW FIGUBE. gg ure looks Jifc e an hour glass, doesn’t it? Well, just mark the difference when my corset fitter gets through with her. She will make her over to fit the newest Paris models in gowns.” And it was even so. The woman who had gone in pudgy, thick-hipi>ed and flat across the back, came out transformed. The line descending from the bust was a straight slant. Her hips

THE GENUINE DIRECTOIRE GOWN WHICH IS EXCITING FASHIONABLE SOCIETY. z---o ; A h a jm 1 / WJfe i ! 1 1 il* * /’ 1/ ! T til"7 W\rfi4 w; W. W inw w r VW - a, » f— xXW

had the -slope of a girl’s. The back was as round as if padded. “But just see how nay skirt tangs in folds,” she said protestingly. “Os course,” answered the corsetiere smilingly. “We don’t make over gowns; we make over figures. The modiste must do the rest.” Then she explained the merits of the new corset. The garment is made very high in the back to hold the shoulder blades in place. Over the hips it measures thirteen incligs from the waist line to the bottom. Four sets of supporters are so joined as to ‘pull the flesh of the hips down and backward, giving the rounding back effect. ■ When the hips are unusually large the waist line is let out. By increasing the waist measure the hips are made to look smaller. < “Although proper corsets are absolutely necessarj r to the wearing of fashionable models, correct undergarments are almost as essential,” said the corsetiere. “All bands, folds and shirrs should be done away with. Everything must be as smooth and straight as the lines of the corset” When You Are Tired. Don’t grit your teeth and work harder. Ease up a little. Don’t talk any more than yen can heln. Tajktog takes vitality. Lie down in a place if only for fifteen minutes. Don’t read anything in which you are not interested. , Don’t feel that everything must oe' done in one day. There are 364 more. Realize that it is better to leave things undone than overdo youreelf. Avoid people and their woes at that time. Seek some one frivolous. Don’t try to improve yourself. Give your mind a rest. And don’t forget that a little lemon juice in cold w-ater in the morning is a great help. « The Unwelcome Guest. A guest who is rarely welcome is the one who insists on just running out to the kitchen or up to the nursery to speak to you for a minute when you have sent her word you will be down soon. The one who talks to you about the things that have happened in other women’s houses. You know your home will not Cscape. She who keeps telling you how delightfully a mutual friend

entertains while you are doing your prettiest to keep her amused. The one who gives you advice how to bring up the children, or who looks disapprovingly when you grant them a request that does not meet with her ideas of fitness. The woman who says what a lovely wall paper, but jvhy did you get it so dark, or so light, or so something it is not. She who will talk to your servants whenever you are not around, ignoring them in your presence. She who repeats what she has seen or heard while a visitor in your house. It may not be anything that matters, but it gives you a creepy feeling of distrust. The woman who has not tact enough to keep out of a-family argument; or she who airs her own views when she knows they will stir up some , member of your household. To Keep Rug Straight. If the edges of your rug seem hopelessly curled, turn it over and thoroughly moisten the curled portions. Let it remain flat and upside down until perfectly dry. You will be delighted to see when you turn it back that it is as flat and shapely as a new rug. Sometimes the dressing has entirely gone from the edges, in which case it is

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best to apply a coat of glue, after moistening, and allow to dry thoroughly before turning back. \. ' ■ / Women and Anaesthetics. The perils of the use, or, rather, the abuse, of drugs by women to alleviate pain received some striking illustrations last week, says the London Queen, In one case the dangerous drug wds , taken to induce sleep, the patient’ suffering from that dreadful disorder, insomnia., In another it was taken without the advice, and in the secondagatost the advice, a medical man. And this is the lesson to be learned from these and all similar cases of self-destruetion by self-administered toxic drugs. It is not necessarily that these powerful drugs are dangerous to life, but that they are assuredly so when not used by the advice of qualified medical men. The. self-adminls- - /

tration of medicines, drugs, specifics and “cures” is at all times to be strongly deprecated, but when it is the case of taking laudanum, cocaine, atropine and the like without a doctor’s orders, it is well-nigh criminal. Deaths so caused are the more deplorable in that these very drugs, poisons though they be, are, in the hands of properly qualified medical practitioners, capable of rendering the greatest possible service to suffering humanity, whether employed as medicines, as soporifics or as anaesthetic's.

To the next generation I say, said Mme. Sarah Grand, the other day, if you would have the power to develop the best that is in you begin by developing your own physique, look up to a true ideal of natural beauty and

attain to it—by soap and water, a high serse of duty, a healthy appetite and plenty of room for digestion. Lord Knollys has shown bis devo- • tion to tlie English royal family by naming his only daughter Louvima, which is a. combination of the names of the king’s three daughters, Louise, Victoria and Maud. ■ . Duchess Carl Edward, of Saxe-Co-burg-Gotha is an accomplished typewriter and stenographer. She learned her trade in a German business college and boasts that she could earn 100 marks per month if thrown on her own resources. 'A daguerreotype of a young man and girl taken from the body of a soldier on the battlefield ( of Chancellorsville during the American civil war, ha?l been returned to the girl in the pic tr re, Mrs. T. W. Stowe, of Milford. Conn., after the finder had searched foi her for thirty-three years. Emergency Treatment. If one is ever seized with a sudder. hemorrhage from the lungs the firs;, thing to be done/ iMfore the doctor gets; there, is to take dry salt as quickly ati possible. This often prevents further bleeding entirely. A tablespoonful o:’ salt is not too much to take, provided it is done gradually so as not to choke. The patient should, moreover, keep perfectly quiet and free from excitement and stay to a room not too hot Tlie Finishing Touch. ) If your mahogany furniture look? dull and smeared this is an excellent polish to use after your cleaning n finished: Take five parts of pale testa, two and a, half parts of palm oil, four parts of benzine, one-quarter part of verbena extract and three-quarters of a part of peppermint extract. Keej this tightly corked, away from fire anl light, and shake before it is used. Yoi can use this on different 0 woods. Men Etiave a Hard Time, Anyliotv. The women are becoming so much in love 'Jidth an Atchison married man, becaus<he takes off his hat when he meets ms wife on the street, that h!s wife ha;s become alarmed and requested him to discontinue the practice.— Atchison Globe.

SOMETHING FOR EVERYBODY Ir rigation is enlarging the oases of the Sahara desert. The Nile contains a greater variety of ish than any other body of water. There are upward of seventy species of edible seaweeds growing on the coasts of Hawaii, and about forty of these are to common use by the natives. There are in Europe 10,000 women and girls who earn a living as artists’ models. It is strange to say that there are not ten Among them who possess a perfect face and figure. Sleeplessness is often caused by the head being exposed to the cold, while the rest of th|e body is warm. In nine canes out of ten, if the head is covered. with a silk handkerchief it will induce skep. Take water in which walnut hulls have soaked overnight and pour it on a spot of ground. In a very few hours the fishingworms will come to the surface and can easily be secured for your; expedition. - The vessel movement on the Great Lakes last season aggregated 73,769 vessel of 99,166,409 net tons register, cleared from the various lake ports, compared with 76,097 vessels of 94,094,316 net tons register cleared during, the preceding season. . ; The Express mentions a case of a private who for failing to recognize find salute his officer was condemned to march past and salute a barrack pump for two hours each day for a Week. The choice of the substitute anyhow showed modesty on the part of ■he officer.—lxmdon Punch. Messrs. Palerno and Cinngolanl, the nventors of “tachyol” (fluoride of .silver), an antiseptic employed In surgery, have found that a solution of one part In 500,000 of water will destroy ill germs, Including B. subtills, its germicidal effect being much greater than that of chlorine, bromine or ozone. Great activity Is being displayed by the Turkish government in building bridged along the important strategic routes in ■ Macedonia and eastern Roumelia. In the vilayet of Salonlca a Belgian firm is building three great bridges, and a Bavarian firijn Is building a bridge entirely of military con* strtiction. In the battle which has been waged against the water hyacinth whicn chokes up many of the rivers in the southern part of the United States, the matter has been complicated to a serious degree by the fondness which cattle exhibit for this plant. It is almost without foqd value, but there is something about it which attracts the animals and they have been known to be lured to death in the efforts to secure the hyacinth. The typical American is popularly supposed to be a shrewd, hard, levelheaded man of business, and that estimation is right, as far as it goes. But beneath these salient characteristics lies a fund of sheer sentimentality and emotional isra which can not be beaten in any other country.' Ypu will find , it in American fiction, and you will get it in the archaic melodramas that still draw tears and cheers, sighs and smiles from American audiences. — Ladles’ Field. Owing to many swindles perpetrated recently through forged and stolen letters of introduction, a card of photographic identification invented by a Pittsburg man'has become popular fti that city. Now when the Plttsburger’s friend asks him for a letter of introduction, he takes the friend to the nearest photographer and Is photographed with him in an attitude of presentation. Then he writes his hote on the picture. And when It is presented the recipient has no’doubts as to the identity of his caller. The great practical utility of the magnetic survey made in the -Pacific ocean by tlie yacht Galilee since 1905 is shown by a new magnetic chart, from which it appears that the charts previously used by navigators in the Pacific ocean were, erroneous along some muchrtraversed routes to the extent of. from three to five degrees, and the errors at times were systematic. Errors of this magnitude are of important in practical navigation, where the indications of the compass should be as accurate as possible.—Youth’s Companion,Minnesota is just fifty years old, and its development during this period has been marvelous. During the half century the population of the state has grown from 150,000 to 2,000,000. The wealth of Its people "was approximately $30,000,000 fifty years ago, and the assessed valuation of their property now is 51,000,000,000, or ”SSOO per capita instead of S2OO. There are now more cultivated farms supporting prosperous; families than, there were men, women and children in the state fifty years; ago. 1 An organization has recently been effected with the object of conducting a complete scientific Investigation and exploration of the Pacific ocean and its islands. While the chief energies of the institution will be devoted to ethnology, the geology and configuration of the region will also be investigated, and studies in zoology and botany will be carried out, as miso Os winds and ocean currents, wlthaXlew to throwing light on the dlstrlbutlon?rfx__ animals, plants and of the human race. Expeditions are to be dispatched in a specially equipped vessel, and It is expected that fifteen years may be needed for the work.