:'-^CiJr-J » - CONFUSION OF CA5TE. Or Gent!Iity Vs. Nobility of Soul. •9«99?9«¥9?99f 99i>??99f 99r#9»9»Cs«»999»?99«999 CHAPTER XXVI. Oflon, as she talked to Doicas, Mrs. Huicourt would jiK'ution her son's name; slie would even spenk o' tiini freely, and wlu-n letters ciiiiie moment, "and I Jid not mean to make you angry, but srtmetinjes, you know, we jest when our hearts are rather bitter and sad. And 1 ojn bitter from him she would read parts of i ""^^ '*"<' to-niglit, Dorcas, for I am Ihem aloud, but she never for a long!8"'*»K ••" make a sacri/ice. and all time made the most distant refer- U'"' natural woman within uie is ence to the term.s on which he and sl""'"''5nK ''om making it. Bear Uorcus .stood together, nor j^avo her with mo a little, my dear. I have any message from him, nor almost i been fighting with my.self all these Kpohs as if she so much us retoguiz- j weeksâ€" more than you know." ed that thev had ever Jiiot. And then slie became .suddenly sil- This ignoring of her position wa.s a relief to the girl at first, but pre- eently she began to wonder a little when it would cease, and then at last there came to her almost a longing that it would cease. "Hoes She Want to make terms with me? â€" and has she not courage to do it?" the began to think. "JJoes she wish to keep me because she think.9 she may gain on influence over me, and make me do what she desires, and give Frank up?" And she could not tell. Some- times, during these days, her love Kiade her suspicious, so that at mo- twecn us. But â€" I was going to tell you â€" we both believed we were about to part, aJid I sjioke to him of you. We had never sjiokcn of you before for many mojitlis. 1 n.skcd him if his feeling for you hafl changed. I haidly know whether or not I hoped that it had changed, but 1 i ad made up my mind that, if it had not, I would buy his last love from him by telling liln to go to you when I was gone; and, my dear, I did tell him so; I told him, when he had laid me in the earth, to go back to you, and to say to you that 1 had sent him. Only, unfortunrtely, you see, Dorcas, after all this had been done, I did not die; and after a week had pass- I cd, I found myself In a very awk- ; ward and unexpected position." 1 She said these last words sudden- [ly, almost with a laugh, and then [ paused for a moment or two before .she went on. ^ "Let my case bo a warning to 'you," she began again, "never to be j too sure of anything that is only go- ing to hapr>en. I exi>ectcd, you per- j ceive, to make a very edifying end, leaving nothing but peace and bless- ing behind me; but I made a .serious I blunder. I enacted my little part- I ing scene a trifle before the. duo time jCume â€" for it was very odd that, al- most as soon as I had made all my pious preparations for departure, I began to get liold of life again. I don't know how Frank felt about it. rooo suddenly up from her She sofa. "Are you tired, Dorcas?" she ask- ed, abruptly. "If you are not tired â€" look, the Bun has hardly set yet, and I think we have each had as much of the other's company for the present as will do us good. You can get half an hour's walk before night comes." She put her hand on Dor- cas's shoulder, with a moment's half "laugh. "Go and dream your dream. Go and be happy, my dear," she said. (To Be Continued). -^ . eHt, and the silence lasted â€" for Dor- cas, with her heart upon her lips, could not break it â€" for several min- utes. "You .see, I aan a woman who has cared for this world." Mrs. liar- court began again at last, abruptly, after that jiause. "I have cared,! hope, for other things as wellâ€" but tor that I have cared too. I have set store by the good things that the world has been able to give me. i and I have tried to get a large mea- | •^"'- ^ "'" afraid that, when 1 knew .sure of those good things forâ€" my '. ^ ^'a** getting better, what I had only son. Perhaps I think that i snid troubled me a good deal, there are, on the whole, some worse ! "ror, you see, my dear, I had not ments it seemed to her as if per- ^-hings than worldiiness, I have i 'H'ite the conscience to draw back haTJS, Mrs. Harcourt was playing a I known many worldly people who are | ffm it. I suppose T would have cruel game, and trying to weave a better than some who call them- i 'Irawn back from it if I could, but web about her. She thought this ' ^^elves saints; but still I allow that, i^o are someUmcs virtuous against sometimes, and then again she be->hen life seems about to end-as j our will, and perhaps-well, per- cnme ashamed of her suspicions. !"»»«, you know, I believed was en<l- ' •>"P'^ -n niy heart 1 thought at that "Onlyâ€" why will she not speak to | '"B *-wo months agoâ€" the worldly me?" she began at last to iisk her- successes we have striven for most appear small things to us. Dorcas, 1 make this admission frankly. 1 confess to you honestly that if I had not suppose<l 1 was dying a lit- tle while ago I hardly think you would bo sitting by my side to- night." She paused again here for a little while, but Dorcai made no answer, 'i'herc was nothiiig that she could say. She sat cjaite still, and with- sonie-lout even lifting her head until her companion cho.se to go on speaking. self, almost passionately. "I am so weary of this silence. Is she not cruel to let all these da.vs pass, and never to tell mc the one thing that concerns me most?" "Yes, I am tired." she sjiid to Mrs. Harcourt tiuickly one night, speaking with a sudden impatient impulse, in answer to a. <iuostion that the other asked. "I httvc been doing nothing, 1 know, but even living ^;eems to tire oi times." "You ought not to feel that â€" i "My dear," Mrs. Harcourt recom- at your age." Mrs. Harcourt an- mcnccd, after this second silence. Kwcred: and then Dorcas laughed ra- ; "it was no ob,iection to yourself per- ther sadly. jsonally that made me try to op- "Do you think age has unv thin,!? to P"^e my son when ho told me first do with it?" she said. 'J think it *-ha-'- '•" wanted you to be hisr wife. is only want of food that has to do with it. Whether we are old or young, if we cannot get bread we starve." And then she thought slie had said loo much, and colored, and rosQ hastily from her seat. "Child, is it I, do you mean, who will not give .von brea<i?" Mis. liar- court suddenly asked. .She was ly- ing on her sofa, and Dorcas was not near to her. but she half ritised her- self as she spoke, nnd held out her hand. "Come here. 1 w.-uit you to sit beside me. (Jonie here, and lot us talk together." she said. Dorcas came, half ashamed, and stit down at her si'.le. "Forgive me for being impatient," filie said, abruptly. "1 ought not to have said what I did." "Wellâ€" if you felt it. it was as well to say it. iierlial's." 1 thought from the first time I saw you that you had a sweet face. I could have loved you. and have been glad that he should love vou, from the beginning, if (you must forgive : me for speaking plainly)â€" if your position had been tlilTerent from • what it is. I had no fault at all to ( find with you except that one â€" that i you were beneath him socially. I Wanted him to marry somi,' girl who ! time, when I was stiU very weak. ] that my boy's gratitude was sweet- 'cr than any" other earthly thing; so lone day, when Dr. Haswell said I I was out of all danger, T a.sked Frank ; what we were to do now, since he had not been able to vut mc under the sod; and it was this talk that I ended in the suggestion upon which jl acted presently, when 1 wrote to lyou and asked you to come here. I promised Frank thiit I woirid ask 'you to come if he would go away, and so he wci>t i" -â€"ami I have j kept my word. And nowâ€" now. my I dear, what is to be the ond of it?" She turned to the girl all at once, ' and imt her hand on hers. There I was a little color in her face, a very ! little tremor on her lips. j "Dorcas, do you love my boy as i well as ho loves you?" she said, ' suddenl.v. I "Do you think 1 should be here 'now if r did not love him?" Dorcas ' answered, with hot cheeks, and al- ' most below her breath. ) "Do you mean that you have found , it so hard to remain here?" "I mean it has been hard to come where 1 know 1 have been looked down upon, and have not been mav is called a gnat marriage, and I should have liked him to do this. But you came in iii.s way, and upset all inv hopes." I -Was that my fault?" Dorcas ask- ed, in a low, quick voice. No, 1 hardly think that. One I "Noâ€" I do not think it wn,s your feel nianv things, but it is gen- fault; I blame you tor nothing. J erally foolish to speak thoni." 'only say that it was .so. and I ask ^•Is that your experience?" And you (for I think you have a frank. Mrs. Harcourt looked at Ilorcas with fair mind)â€" I ask you if you do not an amused smile. "Vou are a very I uiuh.Tstand my feeling in the inat- ivserved woman, my tU-ur." tcr.'â€" if you do not think toy ovro.s- '.â- \re we not both rescivctl, per- ilion was naturalVf haps?" I "Quite natural," Dorcas said. "Wellâ€" possibly;, hut tliut, is not] --j thought and hoped that his the ipieslion, for I am not talking .^ff^.ttion for you would pass away, now of myself. 1 am t-alkiiig of j ,vii^, sorry "for you. Doreas; you you. 1 think y«)U are unusuully re- „i(,y j,.)t believe me. but I did think served. Or. at least. I should say, „f "y,,,, ,o„ even though 1 would you are reserved in general â€" to mo â€" have sucriliced you for my son. 1 to most people. Hardly, perhaps. : ir,,^,^^.,! that yoii would each forget altogether to- everybody?" â€" in in- : the other. Dut when 1 was illâ€"" thir a dry tone, that brought the j she jicgaii this .sentence, and then color in a rush to Dorcas's face. Istoiipnil. and only resumed it otter "Diat is not unnatural. One ' ' should be at least his e(|Ual; per- , thought worthy of hiin." haps I theught (tor T have been j 'So hard that you couici only have proud of him, Dorcasâ€" T have almost , done it ifâ€" you loved him?" believed that no woman he cared for "Yes." could help loving hinOâ€" perhaps I | ••!<; that your true answer? Well, thought it not unlikely that he j j can believe it, tor your face is might even make what IS one an- instinctively more reserved to person than to another," she ewered, halt defiant I.V. â- Exactly. And I think in your case I have hoard tliat you make very marked dilTereiiccs indeed, lie- twc'cn two members of the same fain- tly, for instance?" And then, with fioniething very like laughter in her eyes, Mrs, Harcourt looked at Dor- cas, and Dorcas, witl, an ex|»ression very far indeed riMnovc<i from laugh- ter, returned thi? look. several nionicnts. "When T was ill 1 found thatâ€" as far as he was con- cernedâ€"it was not to he .so." "We spoke about you one night," she said again, presently, "when T thought J had not many more days to live. My sen had be(ui with mo all through m.v illness. Y<ni don't know how good he is to liave with you when you are sulToring â€" what a tender nurse he can be. Wc have loved each other, you see, I'orcas. he iind 1 â€" we have been a great deal to i>ne another. It was not a light •My (leal I am nmkiiig you an- | thing, even from the lirst, to think gry," the elder wonuin said the next [that any other woman had come be- more eloquent than your words, my dear. There, turn it away, child; , we need not talk any more. Only, , sloop down, if you will, before you go, and kiss inc. 1 have never kiss- : cd you yet. 1 suppose" â€" and she gave a sudden laugh â€" "1 suppose , the <|ueen that is abdicating ought to salute the queen that is to be." I "What can I say to you?" the girl began to murmur, in a trembling ^ voice. "I never wished to marry , him it it would do him harm. If you will tell mo I am sellish to hold j to him, I will go away now, and never trouble him or you again." I "My dear," said Mrs. Hai-coiirt, quietly, "from hero to Shopton is hut a four hours' railway journey. Do you think you rouhl prevent i Frank from going to .Shopton to i look for you. if, when he come;; back , next week, he should Iind you gone?" "Is he coming back next week?" she said, quickly. "He tell." me so." "And he knows that 1 am here?" "Yes." "Then you must tell me what to do." Dorcas spoke nervously and quickly. "You must tell me if I am to go or stay." "My dear, you are to stay," the elder woman gravely said. She took the girl's hand, and held it, though with a half-reluctant clasp. "\'ou nre to stay, and takeâ€" what I cannot keep from you." she said. â- "Ihat is the truest wn.v of putting it, 1 suppose." BABY'S OWN TABLETS. For Weak and Sickly Children During the Hot Weather. Thousiands of childi-en die during the hot weather months, because summer complaints and stomach troubles come siuxldenly, and mothers do not have the means at hand to promptly check and cure them. In homes where Baby's Own Tablets are used tliesa precious little lives can be saved, and no homes where ther«' are infants and young children should be witiiout them. Baby's Own Tablets will promptly cure all stomach and bowel trou- bles, and are a great relief to teeth- ing cihildren. The Tablets are sold under a positive guarantee that tliey contain neither opiate nor harmful drug. Crushed to a powder they can be given with absolute saiety to a new bom babe. Mrs. II. Fergu- son, 105 Mansfraid atreet, Mon- treal, says : â€" "I have used Baby's Own Tablets and have found them the best medicine I have ever given my children. My baby has always been small and delicate and suffered so mHch last summer with his teeth that I did not think he would live. Then he was attacked with dysentry, a feverish skin and cough. As the doctor's medicine did not help him, I sent for Baby's Own Tablets and they did him a won- derful amount of good, and he is now getting on splendidly. I gladly give my experience for the benefit of other mother-s" If your' druggis-t doe-si not keep these "Tablets the.v will be sent by mail post paid at 35 cents a box by WTiting direct to the Dr. Williams' Medicine Co., Brock'ville, Ont., or Schenectady, N.Y. ,♦ JOHN BUUL'S FARM. Britain may be viewed as one farm I extending from county to county, interrupted by towns it is true, but surrounding them like the ocean sur- rounds an archipelago ot islands, I Great Britain possesses a total area I of 32,487,389 acres of cultivated iland, of which 7,325,408 acres are ' under wheat, tlio rest being in per- inanont pasture, temporary pasture, root croi>s, fodder crops, and so on. It i!. eludes over 51,000 acres of hops, 73,000 acres of fruit, and 3(»8,- 000 acres of bare fallow. The capi- j tal employed is enormous, and may I be roughly estimated at §1,135,- 000,000, while the amount paid in wages is estimated at S150, 000,000 per annum. There ar« at least 1,- 00t>,0t)0 men, women, and boys cm- ployed in agricultural pursuits in Great Britain who not only cultivate the ground, but attend to 1,500,000 horses, (i, 805. 000 cattle. 26.500,000 sheep, r.nd 2,381,000 pigs, besides countless poultry. Such is John Bull's farm. A Ore elland An Old and Highly Respected Resident Cured of Kidney Disease and Liver Troubles by Dr Chase's Kidney-Liver Pills. Kr. .John Wilson, a retired carpenter who has lived in Wolland, Ont., for .^0 years, writco :â€" "Som« years ago I was attacked with kidney trouble, and 1 booame so run ilown and emaciated that my entire ap- pe.'.rance was KngBe."ti\o of pliytical derlino As time went on the complaint grew worse and beoame com- plicated with liver trouble. I had ha<i pains across the back and up the spinal column, bad spells with my heart, in\in under the right shoulder, ^ilioua headache about half the time, indigestion, fever and reit-- luiWese at night and depreS-ion of gpirits. "At times 1 was incapacitated for work, and had spent probably one hundred dolla-s in dilTcrent medl- Ciiies with no perccivablo results.. Ooctorn' advice proved likcwi!0 of no avail. "Finnlly on the advice of a friend X began taking Dr, Chase's Kidney-Liver Pills, and in a ahort timo the bad fiymptonis began to gradually disai>pear, and by the time I had uand fit\'C or six boxes I was enjoy- ing loiter health than 1 had in many yearB, all of whlah i» due to the virtues of Dr. Chase's Kidney-Hrer I'illB. "Kiiirc m.v recovjry 1 hi«,ve advised otheiB to piofit by my exjieilencc. Some have done so and are well, while other.*) did not and have miccuintcd to this dreadful disease. I am a living witness to Uie valtie of this great medicine, and 1 a.m full of enthusiasm in imftartlng the good news to others who ar» afllicted M I VV(«, " Dr ( hn»e'» Khln«y-Uver Pills, one pill a dose, 25 cents a box, At fill dea'er* or Edmaaaon, BatM tt fia^ T«roulo. To 7)-ov5 to you thai; Dr. Chisc'fl Ointment iaaeortain and absohite curs for each nnd every form ot Itchintr. bleoUhiR.'vndproLru.liDurplloi, the marufaoturer?! have KUtvmutoed it. Seotc:;- tlmoniiit'" in tlie (!ftiir prcs.>i nn<l ai^k yonrnciKh- bora what Ihcy ih\a\i o' It. \on can uso it and get your monev bu' k if not cured. fiOc a box. at all dealers cr EDMANEO.N.IJiTES f; Co.. Toronto, SPONGE COLLECTING. This industry, which is one of the largest in the State of l'"l(MMda, is carried on almost entirely l>y ne- groes. The sponge.; aro gathered by means of a long pole, with a hook attached to the lower end, with which the sponge lishernuin is very expert. He lies prone upon his stomach in the stern of a hoat. look- ing through an ordinary water buc- ket with a gla.ss bottom. which does away with the glare from the water and allows him to survey the bottom leisurely while the lioatman row's i>r sculls the boat, A schoon- er lii.si at anchor near b,v. from which a half-tlozcn or more of these small boats fish. which returns to port when it is loaded or at night, as the case may be. The men all share and share alike of the cargo, the captain receiving a larger portion and thc> owner of the the profit. vos:-:cl one-ciuarter of DON'T BATH TOO MTTOIl. "I used to take a bath every morning, but two a week is my lln,- it now." says a well-known athlete. "Instead, 1 use a Hesh-brush every morning for an hour, and I've nev- er been in better condition in my life. 1 start at the top of my head with a hair brush, then take the flesh-brush â€" it is made specially for the purpose â€" and finish the job down to my feet until my skin is nearly the color of a boiled lobster. It keeps the pores free nnd open, clears away the dead cuticle, doesn't ener- vate the system like a bath, and. above all, is the finest exercise you can get. Rubbing the body vigor- ously with the brush, changing from hand to hand as the muscles of the arm tire, will keep you supple and bimble. It's a great thing." BUHN WOOU TO KEEP IT. Best Manner to Preserve 1*.» Pur- ability. In spite of tlie substitution of iron and steel for wood in house and bridge building, and in the con- struction of ships, piers, and other structures, the consumption of wood increa.ses yearly. AH wood «J*i:ays, and its value depends chiefly upon its durability. The simplest method of preserving is charring. Every old farmer knows that if he burns the end of a post in the fire until it is covered with a thin coat of charcoal it will last from ten to thirty years longer when set in the ground than if put there in its normal condition. Next to this are the paints, which do excellent work in cold and tem- perate climates. A piece of wood painted every two or three years will last centuries; but this does not apply to wood employed mi ships oi in the piles of wharves and bridges. Marine animals bore througJi th« paint, and attack tho wood bcneutli it. When you reach the tropics, paini is almost worthless so far as pre- venting the attacks of white ants is concerned. They bore a hole through the paint, go into the in- terior of the log of lumber, and eat out all the tissue without disturb- ing the paint skin on the outside, The only "process which seems abso- lutely efficient is to charge the wood with some poisonous fluid, which ii antiseptic, non-volatile, and per- manent. Solutions of zinc, iron, copper, ar. scnic, and mercury have been tried, nnd have all given good results.. The best were obtained by forcing through the pores of the wood a Strong solution of the double chlo- ride of ammonia and mercui-y. Af- ter the wood was charged it was laid aside to dry, during which op- eration the ammonia and the watei evaporated, leaving the corrosive sublimate uniformly distributed through the tissue. ^ ORANGE EIVEE COLONY. A General Scheme of Small Farmi Is Proposed. The question of the settlement o> British farmers on the land in Or- ange River Colon.v has now entered the sphere of practicability. The subject is one which presents many difficulties. Pastoral farming, which is there the .staple type, ne- cessitates huge farms, and also en- * courages a state ot idleness aniens the farmers themselves', P.y placing settlers on large farms their influ- ence is practically nil, since there is necessarily little opportunity for in- tercourse with their neighbors. Sir IT. J. Goold-Adams, tho Lieutenant- Governor, has therefore decided on a policy of small farms in cases of set- tlers taking up Government lands. He has at his disposal nearly 300.- 000 acres, which he is increasing by purchase and by tho lapse of leases of Government farms. At present there exist altogether 160 settlers, comprising those be- longing to the Scottish association, colonials from over sea. and others who served in the late campaign. 1'hey are being given an oiiportun- ity ot studying the new features of farmi.ng in South Africa, pending their taking up farms permanentl.v. Subject to the approval of the home authorities, farms will be given to such settlers (if approved) on lease or on purchase terms, the purchase price Icing equivalent to thiit.> years' rent. The diliiculty now arises that small farms are unable to feed suflicicnt stock to pay a fair piolit. Init the Oovernmcnt's intention is to encour- age a,i;riculture. In o'dci- to furthot this end an engineer his been ap pointed to survey tie OoverameiU property for the purpose' .>f devisinf a schoino of irrigation, whereby i great iiroportion of th' land can bt brought under cultivation. Th« scheme is one which promises suo cess . There is no doubt that the slip- shod methods of farming gcnerallj adopted by the Boers hn'. e resiiltoe in a vast amount of land being Ibti practically unvroductive. It is t( be hoped that British enterprise wil helji to remedy this state of things and signs are not wanting that smcl enterprise is likr-ly to be ai'.^licd Three thousand apr>licntions ifoi' farms have been received from in tending British settlers, ncarl.v al with capital One of the most en tluisiastic suiiporters of the schemi of settling British oniigriititsnnnnni of settling 11riti^h iiiiniiLiruiits oi the land. Ulr. Abo Bailev, is dosirour of furthering the scheme by purchas iii.g lanil both in th(> Ornii.ije Hive ("olonv and in the t'al>e t^oion.v with the object of placing sucli in digent settlers; on it. Everythirj will be provided for them until the* are able to support them.selves, am- the.v will be nllov-ecl to purcha.s< their farms on easy terms BRITAIN'S OLDEST ./(tntiii;. The oldest judge in the Unite* Kingdom is .Sir William Drinkwatcr who is now in his ninet.v-first year When he retired from his deemstoi ship of the Isle of Man. in 1897. h had tho rtght to celebrate his jubi lee of ofHce, and had cn-atpd a recof for judicial tenure. ITo has seen fiv .Sovereigns on the English thront and retains sufllcioMt activity t servo on the Isle of Man hospito coniniilfee. to manage hi.-i estate c Kirby. near Douglas, and to re.suit: i the iKirse exercise which nn acciden ' Fom<' years ago conipcVad him t I abaudon for a time.