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_ _.. The Wedding Eve ; Or, Married to a Fairy. CHAPTER XVIII. (Continued). This was the woman my soul longed for. the complement of my own nature, ih being presaged In my dreams, whose diaphanous form had so often seemed to Hit. wlll-o'-the-wispllke. between me "Great Scott! What big words- and big looks! Hervey. If you thought a man was a decent fellow, and saw n\m about to commit suicide, wouldn't you try and stop him? When you came f me in my studio at Kensington a year ago. you Interfered just when I meant and my canvas lorm before my eyes had to jc ; ln the ma j or i ty and It was a ever been blessed oy a sight of her. I i thousand pities you didn't let m alone! wus positively startled to realize howj Anyway j lil[e you respec t you. and Wonderfully like Lilith was to those , a ,j m i,. e you In many ways your no- dream fancies of mine, which had for- 1 tiong are , 00 high-flown and you're too ever pictured a slim, blue-eyed, yellow- 1 Koo( i f or tn j 3 world; but you're one of haired, youthful, unreasoning creature. the best and l can't see you deliberate- i all laughter and all love. I i y setting out to cut your throat with- ' At four o'clock I went to bed at last, 'out a. protest. For Heaven's sake, don't and slept heavily until half-past eight, i marry that girl! It would be a social At nine, while I was enjoying my morn- and artistic suicide. I understand w fl- ing tub never more refreshing than ; men better than you, and though I only after a short night Wrenshaw tapped saw her for a few minutes. I have met at my dressing-room door. i girls of her type before, and : if vmi nt*>' > sir I stand them. No man of sens --.n of that sort. They en r t - -. *otns up to the studio, saylnn as he had graceful, good-tempered, and affe left some canvases and things there." i ate. to all appearance, and full of "Hang the fellow:" I .mittered. below , caressing tricks and ways; but a my breath i tht-y are nothing but ignorant, shanuw. Wray was a despera.e stayer and my heartless, ungrateful, and Immoral train started at eleven thirty-five. , animals. Hervey. don ^WMtorwfcWt "Get rid of him as soon as you can. upon such a woman. She will t and let me have my breakfast." I said her claws and play with it and purr over rJ OU(J , It: and when she is tired of It she will But half an hour later Wrenshaw throw your heart aside, and take h came to me again, a comic picture of de- soft words and pretty tricks to some Bpa | r richer or better-looking man. or even to "That Mr. Wray. sir. he won't go. He's ' some penniless and ugly scoundrel, out got his canvas, but he's taken the arm- of mere frivolity and love of change, chair, and his feet on another, and he's . The only man to deal with that type ol filling the room with his nasty, cheap to- woman Is the bully, who frightens her acco smoke. I spoke to him strongly, i Into faithfulness by oaths and blow; sir- but says he: 'Your master would , W ith such an Ideal and romantic and never refuse an hour's rest and shelter ; sensl itivo nature as yours, marriage will to a man who Is down on his luck and ; Lilith Saxon would mean a tragedy and tired out.' he says. Depend upon It, sir. ' your utter ruin, body and soul. uUe he has come to borrow money. When a me your word. Hervey. not to carry out gentleman leastways a man won't be this mad freak of yours or, at MM put off from seeing another, it's always ; promise me to see Lady Madge before a favor he comes after; and It's gener- you attempt to go down to Bristol. ally ready monev." Wrenshaw seldom delivered himself He was llvldly pale and the perspira- tion stood out upon his face. His un- of BO many words; but he disliked Wray. j looked for vehemence, so utterly at va- I believe, only a little less than he dls- j riance with his usual lazy equanimity, liked Lilith. For my own part I was | partly astonished and partly angered me. , exceedingly annoyed by the presence of i But during his long and passionate pro- thls uninvited guest at my studio. It test I had time to reflect that, being the was especially Irritating to reflect that, man he was he could neither understand although I might Indeed breakfast the love I felt nor the nature of the giit < down-stairs or out of the house, and slip i who Inspired it. So I affected to eat my off to Bristol without meeting him. I breakfast, persuading myself the while ii .-, . .,.. , i,,i.i.... _....._ that I must forgive his abuse of Lilith,. PACKAGE Why take chances by asking for "A Dollar's Worth of Sugar ?" CANADA SUGAR REFINING CO.. LIMITED, SUGAR BuyREDPATHin Original Package* and you'll be sure of full weight highest quality absolute purity. Kin.' i liri-iiui and Queen Alcxaadriua. An unconventional photograph of the Rulers of Denmark, taken at Buckingham Palace on the occasion of their recent visit to England. should practically leave Llllth's reputa Oon in his hands, since he was quite unprincipled enough to find out for him- self the many new portraits of Lilith which 1 had taken down from the walls and placed just. within my desk and quite artful enough, by pumping the un- friendly Wrenshaw. to discover that she had visited the studio not many days MO. seen since It could be only his genuine con- t cern for my welfare which Inspired II "I am sure you mean well. Wray." I therefore observed, as calmly as I could. | when he had finished speaking and stood i holding on to the back of a chair close i to the table at which I was seated, "and therefore I cannot resent what you say . IJitte W il-on a fr lend of his. bad as I .houl.l otherwise do. But you must n nw> dlnln* with hpr t?te-a-tet at a understand that this Is the laat time knT <3l a t n e1t Wil ?e h , e a r u t ran t a *$& that LimiT. name Is mentioned betw.ea Brookton had recognized me by her side In a cab: and Madge had already openly put the most unjust and cruel Interpre- tation upon my relations with her. Certainly I was to marry Lilith at once, and so put a stop to all possible ecandal; but it was intolerable to me to think that her name should be made light of, even for a short time, by a man of so bitter a tongue and so cynical a disbelief In women as Nicholas Wray. L'nder these circumstances 1 resolved to see him. and so at least get him out of the studio. From Wilson's account I iruessed. too. that he was In very low water, even had not his own words to Wrenshaw confirmed the Idea. For many months none of his brilliant black-and- white work had been seen about town, and I could not bear to think that a man of such brilliant capabilities should really be In want, even though his mis- fortunes were more often than not the result of his foolish excesses. Moved by all these impulses. I ascend- ed to the studio, and found Wray just as Wrenshaw had described him. taking his ease upon a couple of chairs, and filllr.s the room with smoke from his pip*, a handsome amber-mouthed and elaborately carved one which I had never seen before. Wray looked, as ever, handsome-, pic- turesque. and dirty. In spite of the hlfty life I had heard he was leading. his tall frame was less thin than be- for A Icofely knotted yellow silk scarf end-rind the wide turned-down collar of his llannel shirt, which, with that brown velvet painting-coat of mine, which he had calmly annexed after his last visit to me. helped to produce a very strik- ing and unconventional ensemble. "Hello. Hervey! I thought old Wren- chaw was lying!" was his greeting, as he lazily stuck out white hands. one of his long. "1 had told him I was not at home to anybody." I answered shortly. "I am onlv in town for a few days, during us until she has become my wife." He drew a long breath sharply throujth his teeth, and remained silent for several minutes. Then, in a strangely subdued manner. he took his hat and his canvas from the chair on which he had tossed them, and , without once looking back at me he left the studio. "I have warned you" he muttered. with his hand on the door. "I can do no , more. The consequences be on your own head." CHAPTER XIX. Little enough I thought or cared for | Nicholas \V ray's warning as I took my I place In the train on my way down to ' Bristol. My mind was wholly concerned with wondering how Lilith would take my wooing, what she would say. and how she would look at me. Had she not herself wished that all days might be like the brief time we had spent together In London? Had she not, ' little more than a year ago. clung to me. sobbinjr her heart out on my shoulder, and imploring me not to leave her among strangers? Had she not professed her willingness nay. more, her eagerness to adopt any menial position so that she might nnt be parted from me? And, ; above all, had one not escaped from Mrs. ' Jackson's at midnight, a fortnight ago. for the mere pleasure of walking up and < down the street outside my studio door? : How could I help thinking she would be glad to receive me In my new char- ; acter of a humble suitor for her hand? It was not. surely, a question of vanity. I was her only friend. For weeks after entrance into Morland House establish- ment she had. as she admitted to me. looked for and longed for my visits every day. Her present position was uncertain and invidious: but as my wife' It would be cure. And best encourage- : ment of all for an anxious, eager lover, there was that soft kiss of hers "like which 1 have been extremely hard at 1 Diana's kiss, unasked, unsought." that work: and In two hours' time I am leav- 1 had quivered upon my cheek when we; Ing London again. So you will excuse last parted. me If I begin my breakfast." H* lay still for a fw moments. star- Ing <*t me over his pipe, and smoked on In *il. ;, . while 1 rang the bell and gavu sortie orders to Wrenshaw al'out my . "May 1 ask where you are going in such a. deuce of a hurry?" h Inquired. as tlu> door closed on the man. "1 am going to Bristol." "To Itrlslol. ehT It wouldn't bo a bad In such thoughts and recollections I I beguiled iny journey. A cold, moist wind I was blowing over the downs as I drove I up from tlix towii in an open fly, tha driver of which enlivened the way by de- scanting upon the popular local topic of the number of suicides frustrated or successfully carried through from Clif- ton Suspension Bridge during the last year. 1 wished, with the unreasonable- ness of lovers that the weather hail not notion for me to *ro to Hrlstol and ask I changed so suddenly for the worse, and ' my Cousin, Kate Morland. put me up I that the near neighborhood of Morland , for <i few nights. Wolild > uu like a 'House wt-re not renowned as a sulrMe mind are unformed. And. then, she is so much attached to me that It would break her heart to part from me suddeii- Besldes. although It sounds egotis- tical on my part to say so. where would she find the affectionate sympathy, the real home Influence which she enjoys under my roof?" Mrs. Morland was evidently much ex- ited. Her sweet voice actually shook with feeling, and I hastened to assure her that I had no Idea of removing Lll- Ith to any rival "finishing" establish- ment. "But Lilith Is no longer a child." I went on. "She Is a beautiful, marriage- able young woman and. In short. Mrs. Morland. 1 have come down here to ask her to be my wife." Every trace of color faded from Mrs. Morland's face. "Your wife!" she repeated blankly. taring at me with a consternation she did not attempt to conceal. "Mr. Hervey. Is this a jerft? Everybody knows that next season you are going to marry I.ady Margaret Lorimer." "Kverybody Is wrong. Mrs. Morland. Lady Margaret has dissolved our en- gagement." "And you reaJly thought." Mrs. Mor- land said, rising from her seat In her growing excitement, "you could really possibly think of proposing marriage to a girl In Llllth's station of life just to pique and spite your former fiance? Surely such a proceeding would be al- together beneath you. Let me beg and entreat you to think better of such a preposterous plan." "There has never been any question with me of piquing I.ady Margaret." 1 said. "Pray dismiss such an Idea from your mind. I wish to marry Miss Saxon because I love her. and for no other reason." "Oh, my dear Mr. Hervey." Mrs. Mor- land exclaimed, in her softest and most persuasive tones, sinking down on her seat again and Joining her hands In what appeared like very real anxiety, "for vour own sake, for the sake of your family, your genius, and the splendid career before you. I Implore you to give up all Idea of such a terrible mesalli- ance. Lilith herself regards you with respect and gratitude, wholly In the light of a protector or father "There are just eleven years between us." "Years are nothing. Remember your relative positions. As far as I can ga- ther. Llllth's early training and asso- ciations were of the lowest and most sordid kind. You have educated her out of pure charily: but If you were to marry her, would the world believe It* You know how shamefully censorious people are. Could you bear th sort of thing that would be said about your wife?" "The world Mrs. Morland." I said. "Is nothing to me. An artist mokes his own world." (To be continued.) On the Farm fellow-traveler?" "No. Wruy," I replied emphatically. certainly should not." "Well, that's frank, at any rate!" he obser\"d. luuKliins impcrturably. "And may I ask what tU?s you to liristol of 11 places T" "t!u:i-ly you must remember." T said, that :i young Kirl in whom I nm deeply Inter.-su'il is in thi- cure of your cousin, Mrs. Stanhope Morland?" "Oh. ah. yes. of course! Ku-t is. 1 havon't bi'iMi r.i-jir my cousin for so Ions, and h:iv,'ti't h-ard from you. (and I'd for- to my inquiry, gotten nil iibuiit It. Hut. now i hat you ! drawlng^rooni? centre. Hut the slsiit of the low-lying building nestling among its elm-trees set my heart bounding with u boyish delight and rny blood UnKliiiK In my veins, so j that 1 longed to spring out of the c:ib. anil Pound on ahead, shouting to Lilith that 1 was i-omine to bear her off as; my briile. Another and an older servant than the girl I had seen i>n the occa.-lon of my : last visit, opened the door to me. M rs. Morlaml atul -Mi.ss Saxon were, both at home, she said, glibly in answer ' Would 1 walk Into the recall it. 1 remember a nui.- dancing beggar-girl you have somehow picked up, who insisted upon ha\iniT supper with you mid me in the studio, and Mrs. Morland did not keep me wait-: ing long. She rustled Into the room in a, handsome ttray silk dress, elaborately trimmed with laco an I steel, her eurlv I wanted to spend her life with you." (dark hair dressed In the latest style. "1'lease be careful what you say." I and looking altogether like a plate in a Bald coldly. "I am going down to I fashion pap-r. She held out a small.' Bristol lo-diiy to as>k that girl to be my|l'luiii|>. much-ringed ham! for me to j Wife." | shake, but 1 noticed that its touch was Wr,*v sprang up In his chair. He had I strangely cold and clammy, and thut her grown pale with excitement, and was ! comely, fresli-complexunied face wore i at me incredulously. I an anxious expression which she strove! "Wlmt iii the. world are you talking vainly to nu.sk In smiles. about'.'" ho exclaimed. "In six months you will I'f man led to l.:uly Margaret Lorlm "i , the (tuners nre full uf It " "IVllghted to see you. Mr. Hervey.] Pray sit down. 1 ,was so sorry Ulith I was not hero yesterday. liui you see. "Tlioy will have to bo tilled with con- ! the dour girl li:id seemed just a little bit I tradi'-tlons. I.ady Madge dissolved our, "ot exactly 111 but driH>py lately, and! engagement yesterday morning." ; 1 thought a day or two at the. seaside "Oh, ;>. lover's quarrel! That Is no- ] ol the house of a lady who was once one t thing." said Wray. In tones of roller. "If ! of my assistant touchers a most charm- 1 you re:illy linvo teen keopinx th.it dune- j ing and cultured woman of responsible lag i-Mll'.l lit Kato'a school all this time, age would do the dear child good. Lll- ' and It li.is come 'to I.ady -Madge's earn i Ith Is growing very fast, and she i->- I through some Infernally rooo-naturod quires u little petting and change of air friend, of coursn there would ba rue- now and then." I'm re- loua. That magnificent woman would "it Is very thoughtful of you J n tigress of Jealousy, ntnl would sure," 1 said, speaking with "somi, l= - I ifook no rival, She Is quili. right, mind, serve. 'But Lilith will. 1 hope, have She Is a superb creature; and as to that i Plenty of change from this time for- Tlrl- pooh! a mere thread-paper, unde- i ward. ' Telo->ed tMnjr, If I remember rightly. 1 1 A look of unmistakable alarm flashed fckotched her and your cat nslecp to- 1 into Mrs. Morland's eyes. ft." 1 " 1 *- l thought she. was about che's a child, man. a mere Dd vou arc what Is It? Thlrt 'Twenty-elg-ht. And Lilith Saxon Is 4Toutoeu." "In ycm's, perhaps, nut you look ilrty on my word you do. and shs Ok fourteen! It Is preposterous, Her- A mad freak on your part, born . t twelve. "You do not contemplate taking her re child, away from here, surely?" s!u- sussested rt y7" -The placo suits her so adinlrablv and plqno because vou have flth that splendid wonmn. quarreled No man his right senses would descend from Heau'ttrul, Urilllant accomplished, and >ea!tliy tolled ladv to a little. Ill-bred, Informed, uneducated ir.iiix of a danc- nm-rlrl." "You are apcn'KIng of Iho lady who Is to bo. wiie my wife." I said, springing from ,i\y rhalr, "mul unless you Instant- ly apotORlM and i-rtrar-t your words. I must nsk you to Uv.io this house and nevoi to visit it aRjin 1 ' , - - - 'ably, and she is making such progress. And then pardon me but it Is UM utulerstnmting always that pupils remain with me not less than two years. 1 cminm do myself Justice In less than that time. I thought I explained my custom In this respect to you on the occasion of your Hist \isit and I certainly understood that you agreed to the arrangement." "If Miss Saxon leaves Morlaiul House before the two years are up." I said very coldly, for I was thinking of Lll- lth's worn-out boots, and threadbare gloves, "you will not be n loser If I find that I entered into any agreement of the kind you suggest." "But she Is much too vou'.ig and too Ignorant to leave school yet. She knows nothing *f the world. Her manners and "tirannyV Tribute. The Rev. Mr. Lawrence had boar<k<l for so long a time with the. Granb.v family that when he was obliged ' remove to a new field of labor, the family keenly felt his loss. "The best pastor we've ever had in this town." declared Father Granb.v, heartily. "I don't expect to see his equal again." "Such g'xxl company,'' said Mo- ther Granb.v: "and so svmpa-rhetic if the least thing went wrong." "He was the easiest man to cook for I ever knew," contributed Aunt Ann. "He was always satisfied with what b-- had to eat, and he never gniviiiled." "He h;:d such a serene disposi- tion." sighed Sister Laura. "He brought JIM atmosphere of peace whenever he came into the house." "Granny" (Iranby. in her cor- ner bv the fireplace, shook her head dolefully as she added her tri- bute of affection. "I'll mi^s him dri'tfully," she mourned. "'Ho was the best hand at IftehinK moth millers ever I did see." Can't Sidestep That. "Pon't take any notice of the cook, my dear." "But John. I have to take it when she gives it to me." "When I marry it will be for love onlv." "Is that sol" "Positive- ly." "And if sonii' poor man pro- poses to you ?" "l>ut he won't. I shall take RCHX! cave n<-t to fall in love with a;iv nrm who isn't able to provi-h' mo with what luxuries I require." Feeding the Calf. The mother's milk should be fed the first week, beginning when the calf is 24 to 3U hours old. The milk must be fresh and warm, about 95 to 100 degrees Fahrenheit, and must always be fed from a clean pail, preferably a tin pail. A wooden pail is too hard to keep sweet and c-iej.ii. The second week whole milk from any cow may be fed. and the third week, if the calf is in good health and growing nicely, the change to jkiin milk may be begun. Do not make the mistake of feeding more skim milk simply because the cream is removed. The whole milk con- tains about as much protein as the calf can handle and when swim milk is fed in large quantities the calf gets more than he can ute, and as a consequence a sick calf is the re- sult. The change from whole milk to skim milk must be gradual : from one half to Ij-j pounds a day, de- pending upon the size and vigor of calf. To an average calf, two weeks old, we would feed about twelve pounds a day of whole milk. The first day of the third week, or when it is desirable to begin the change, the daily feed would be eleven pounds of whole milk and one pound of skim milk ; the second day, ten pounds of whole mirk and tvro poumis^of skim milk, and o until the complete change is made. It is just as essential to feed the skim milk warm as the whole niilk, al- though when the calf gets larger and stronger, six to ten weeks old, a gradual change to cold milk may be made. Allow the calf a clean, airy pad- dock or box stall in which to get exercise. Give him some well cur ed hay. such as timothy and clover. or timothv alone, as soon as he w:!! eat it. which will be when he is ir.-m three to four weeks old. Alfalfa in small quantities may be fed, but with this ruughage there is danzer of the calfs eating more than he can properly digest. Grain may be fed as soon as he will take it. and for this purpose a mixture of bran and crushed oats or crushed oate alone is recommend- ed. Protect the Tree Root*. In digging a tree, preserve as many of the roots as possible, espe- cially the fine roots which feed the larger ones. Do not let these roots dry in the sun or wind. They should be protected with burlap. canvas or straw until they are set in the ground. This is especially true of evergreens. Exposure < the roots to the eun or wind will set the resin in the root and stop further development of the plant. This is a matter that does not/ seem to be well understood, or at leas: heeded, by our tree planters. Thou- sands of evergreens are destroyed each year by care'ess Land.ing. either in the nursery or, as is the usual case, by the planter. One cannot be too careful in handling either the evergreen or the hard- wood trees to keep the roots from drying. Suuliuitit. Sunlight is one of the best and cheapest disinfectants at our dis- posal, and we should take advant- age of this fact at every opportun- ity. In the construction of barns or shelters of any kind for animals, ample provision should be made for the admission of the maximum amount of sunlight. Southern ex- posure is desirable, that is. having the majority of the windows facing the south. The warmth this pro- vtdea in o>'d weather is desirable, and much of the excessive heat in summer can be avoided by provid- ing suitable curtains or screens. Most disease germs are easily kill- ed by direct sunlight, as has been repeatedly shown b' e.\|>eriments. Both Conic Itack. "You know what a boomerang is, don't you, Johnnie .'' "No, ma'am." "Why. a boomerang is something you throw out and after a little while it turns and comes back." "Please ma'am, it's sometlr.u' like the prodigal son. ain't it ,'" The Proper Term. "What's ihat ?" cried the new doctor in the mining camp. "You say v.iu have 'shooting pains' i:i your back, Whv. you're \vo;i:i<i <!. man !' "That's what I said -'shooting pains,' " said Plute Fete. CIRES BY A POLISH IM1VSVNT. I'alifnt Svnd> Only ChriMiuii Name and Uud> of Birth. Stanislaus Ratajcsyk. a Polish peasant living in the hamlet of To- polca, near the ancient town of Lenczyca. Russian Poland, has won fame in Russia, Germany and Aus- tria for his strange cures. The patient, who may be in New York, Vladivosti. ck or Warsaw, sends by mail or ,v-:re his Christian name, with exact date < f birth. That is all. On getting his data, Stanislaus puts the letter, message or card before him on a table, sits d-'Wii in front of it. drinks a glasa of cognac and goes into a short trance Then he says to his secre- tary, "I see such and such a thing in the patient s body. He must do t>o and so." The secretary writes down the medicines and treatment and the prescription g es to the address sent with the Christian name and date. Stanislaus can neither read nor write, but his cures bring him enor- mous crowds, as well as staeks of letters and despatches. Though Topolca is more than 30 miles from the nearest railway depot, patient* of all sorts and conditions, from the poor peasant who can pay nothing, to the rich in their cars and furs, flock to him. When they come, stead of sending their names post, he- does not ask them details, but goes into a trance and tella them what is the matter. His fee ranges from a few cents to $5. according to a patient'* purse He also levies a toll of * bottle of French brandy from all, except the very poor. Many scientists cf Europe have vainly sought to solve the mystery of the peasant's strange power. A correspondent made the tediouj* journey to Topolca to investigate. When he arrived at the healer's house, Stanislaus was saying to a ll'i^ian official who was suffering from alcoholism : "What is the use of your coming to see me' I can only heal the body; it -.< y>;! r sul that is ill. Contro'. that and y< :u w:i'. be well." Turning to the correspondent he grumbled: 'You are not sick. You have come to find out whether I am a fraud or not. You are not from these parts, but I cannot tell where you are from, as my gift only ap- plies to the sick, not to the healthy." His latest striking achievement is to grow a fine crop of hair on o> perfectly 1'a'd i>.ite. and since news of it got al>r. ;:<i his bouse has been besieged by rich people wlio are iiair'ess. He ^iys his rciTifdy for baldness is ;i dicoctin . f s;i:ike- weed. e, in- s by , For all shoes - wisy to use ' *-<S . . liwvtv . ' ;iv- -.-- -' .. -*i> ;?'aV. . . 9jt .''fJffff* BSci*. .