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Imore the old life began again, éééééédééééééééé éééééég 9 ii i’ Gentility g ‘ Vs. I g " Nobility of soul- '1 sewmeoweseflesom $W$¢$$338¢3W3¢3W CHAPTER g XIV. A few weeks Dorcas spent in the excitements of a first friendship and then Il‘rank Harcourt returned to London. Mr. Trelawney had got rid of the thorn in his side, and Dorcas had lost her playfcllow, and once , and the summer days went on as they had been used to do before Frank's revolutionary advent. For a little while the child remained dull and quiet ; her former games had lost their zest for her ; she pined for the companionship that had been hers for those brief weeksâ€"for the plea-ID”)mment sures she had tasted, whose flavor had spoiled her for the food , that had satisfied her before. .. V. _. But gradually the present caine once more to absorb the past, and by fine degrees Dorcas grewâ€"not, together, and neither of them seem- ed to need any other companion- ] ship.’ probably, to forget Frank, but cease to think of him every hour. “I suppose a child’s heart is.really about as unimpressionahle as waâ€" ter,” ‘Mr. Trelawney sometimes thought to himself, as he watched her with speculating eyes. It would be the same if he self wore removed from her, he used to think : she would forget all about him in a few weeks, and be contented with the first substitute that fell in her-way. He told him- self this with a sort of bitterness but, nevertheless, even though he suspectedthat his own fate in sim- ilar circumstances might be the same as Frank’s, h imâ€" it gave him a sense of very unquestionable satisfaction to see how rapidly, 'to all appearance, Frank was forgotten, and with what coolness the little V damsel settled down again into her old content- ment. : V. Perhaps she had really forgotten him ; perhaps she had merely locked up the recollection of him in some secret chamber of her heart, of which she only opened the door when no one saw her. A child’s naâ€" ture is so strange a thing. She had been full of talk about him all the time that he Was with her, carrying his name so perpetually on her lips that other people grew tired of hear- ing it ; but from the first day after his departure she scarcely any longer seemed to miss him most she held her peace about him. So time went on, and the waters seemed to have closed over Frank’s name, and Dorcasâ€"a happy but sedate little maidenâ€"-â€"fell back into all the old ways that his visit had interrupted . and broken up. Once more she became her father’s com- panion, and the pride and gladness of her father’s life. The months passed on after Frank’s departure, and the years passed on, and he never came again. ' Such placid years lâ€"in which winter and seed-time and summer and harvest succeeded one another in a quiet and contented roundâ€"hap~ py, and busy, and uneventful. The hair began to silver as they passed on Mr. Trelawney’s temples, and Letty lost her youth and Dorcas slipped imperceptibly out of childâ€" hood, and shot into a tall, slim girl, with a bright and pretty face, Quaker-like still in a certain quiet and demure expression, yet with light and laughter too behind the lashes of her sweet brown eyes. "She is very like my mother,” Mr. 'l‘relawney often said, and yet he said it. always dubiously, for the girl was like her, grandmother, but yet it was likeness with a difference : the delicate features came from Mrs. 'l‘relau'ney, but the character of the face-a certain modest and yet frank and fearless brightness that it had-«she had inherited from some other progenitorâ€"not from Mrs. Trelawney, nor from her father, nor from Letty. With intense tenderness her father would often look. into her eyesâ€"not really reading much in them, perhaps (girls’ eyes reveal so little), but with passionate love and faith believing that he read a whole world of hidden things. Was there anything a daughter could be to a father that Dorcas was not ? Between them there seemed to be a natural sympathy. deep as their two lives] They spent their days She can prove it. by keeping a record cf your weight. is nature’s own cure‘, and is composed of the .most powerful- rcstoratives and mvxgorators that science has yet discovered. Take the case of Mrs: West, as described in her letter quoted below. She was pale, weak and run down in Her blood was thin and watery, and her nerves so starved and exhausted that she was Dr. Chase’s Nerve li‘ood cured her, and added new, firm flesh to her body "to the cx_tent of eleven pounds. You health. will find her letter interesting. Mr. S. W. West, Drayton, Wellington County, Ont., writes: down, and finally became a. victim of nervous prostration. bition and could scarcely drag myself about. Food, I used three boxes with great benefit. thin when I began to use the remedy, I was very proud of the increase of weight. Then the following spring I became rather poorly, and it again built me up, and gave me such a. good I was so pleased with the cure the Nerve Food brought about that I recommended it to others, and they have told me of the benefits they had obtained from this pro- You may use‘ this testimonial in order that others may learn of the good there is in Dr. Chase’- appetite. that I wanted to eat. nearly half the time. operation. Nerve Food." If you have been affected as Mrs. Wes; has, if you are not feeling real strong and well, you will be aur- priscd at the good that Dr. Chase's Nerve Food will do you. far and wasted forms, and brings new hopes, new confidence and new life to take the place of deapondency, weakness and disease. 50 cents a,_box,6 boxes for $2.50, at all dealers, or Edmanson, Bates & 00., Toronto. l l talked of him at all ; even when she is fl111 0f hard things. Letty always l | l l He taught her Latin and Greek, and on the whole she took to these languages pretty kindly. She also, happily, became instructed in hisâ€" tory, and geography, and in various other excellent things. It soon grew to be not only her father’s daily occupation, but his delight, to teach her. He put almost .all other work aside- that he might devote himself to this {morning and evening she and her studies were his one most thought. Perhaps the girl had a,little more teaching than vas quite' good \ or wholesome for her, yet on the whole she throve upon it, and she enjoyed it too. She perpetrated was quick in apprehending, and she grew graduallyâ€"to some extent, at any rateâ€"to love these studies that SD for & g00d were so dear to her father’s heart : for his sake probably in the first place, yet also perhaps a little . for themselves. She could enjoy Homer when he' read it to her in his musi- cal voice, and could even catch something from him of his own on- thusiasm. Gradually, as the years passed, she became more than a pupil to him : she became a help in his work. He could trust the careful fingers to make correct extracts for him, and the careful eyes to search for many a reference and note. The work she did was possibly dull for her some- times, or at least it would have been if her love for him had not made it clear to her ; but that love beautified it all. She was proud ‘of being useful to him with a sacred pride ; she would not have let any other hand take one iota of her labor from her. So these two lived in one another; and as for Lettyâ€"â€"! her own place, that was not in the inner circle the heart of either of them. gentle, loving, feeble woman had to guess live her life as she best could, doing the work that fell to her to do, but closing her lips for the most part over all her futile regrets and futile longings. It was hard, per- haps at times ; but then the world patiently thought, and if she had her troubles she had also so much besides to make her glad. If, indeed, Mr. ’l‘relawxiey and Dorcas could have loved her a little betterâ€"l But then they wore so different from her: they ivere gentlefolks, and she was only a poor woman, and so it would not have been natural, she supposed. She was glad, with pure, unselfish love, that Dorcas was such a little lady ; she never for a moment wish- ed that it, had been otherwise, or grudng her husband one gram of his delight and satisfaction in the child. And she would look, with eyes made tender with love and thankful- ness, at the little maiden, whose delicate and dainty prettincss was so far removed from anything that the unkindest lips could have called vulgar or unrefined and (in spite of the S\vord in her own 'heart) feel proud that it should be so. “Yesâ€"she don’t take after you. Letty, or any one of the lot of us.” Mrs. Markham sometimes emphati- cally said. Mrs. Markham had long ago taken another situation as housekeeper in a distant county, and, though she was growing old, was still buxom To prom. to you that Dr. Chase’s Ointment 18 a certain and absolute cure for each and every form of itching, bleedingand protruding: piles, the manufacturershave guaranteed it. See fes- tlmonials in the daily press and ask your-neigh- born what they think out. You can use if: and get your money back if not cured. (10c a box. at all dealers or EDMANEON,BATES £5 Co..’l‘oronto, 533'. Ghase’s Qintn‘ient and healthy. Every year or two she would come to see Letty, and Stay with her for two or three days, and during these visits Mr. 'l‘relawney would treat her with great kindness, and Letty would always have much to say to her that she c‘ould say to no one else. The last time that Dorcas- A'.IY c"! had I I l Well, Letty had truth they thoughtâ€"but brought _ _ of marriage at times so curiously near The I their lips ained Essen Found And Was Brought Back From Nervous Prostration to Health and Strength by Using Dr. Chase’s Nerve Food. There is no faith cure about Dr. Chase’s Nerve food. You do not need to imagine it is doing good. You This food cure acts in a perfectly natural way. -â€"“.About two years ago I got terribly run I had no appetite, seemed to lose interest and am- Hearing of good results from the use of Dr. In a. short time I gained eleven pounds, and as I was very It‘puts color in the cheeks, rounds out angu- spoke bad grammar, seen Mrs. Markham was when she Was about fourteen years old, and for nearly three years after this Mrs. Markham happened to pay no other visit to Shepton ; but when the girl was seventeen she at length came again, and the six or eight days that she stayed with Letty then amply sufiified, I fear, for the shrewd, ob- servant eyes to find out a good deal to which poor. Letty, in her tender cowardice, would gladly have kept them blind. - Till now.Dorcas had lived on the whole a secluded life, but yet, though she had had few companions, there had always been certain houses in Shepton that had been open to her, so that she had been by no means altogether without friends. They had, for instance, 'been-kind to her at the vicarage ; Dr. and Mrs. (libâ€" son too had often asked her to visit them, and perhaps some half dozen other families amongst her father’s old acquaintances had taken some notice of herâ€"partly from old friendship’s sake, partly from kindâ€" nessto herself. At the time of Mr. ’l‘relawney’s marriage the whole of Shepton, as you know, had agreed that he had a. piece of egregious folly, and they; had punished him for it by declining to visit Letty, and while a number of houses that had been open to him once became closed to him, and people who Would formerly have greeted him with a cordial shake of the hand, if they had met him and Letty in the street. passed him now with a bow. So Letty did not trouble Shepton society with her presence. andâ€"soâ€" ciety being grateful to herâ€"was, per- haps, the more kindly treated by it. on that account ; and as for Mr. Trelawney and Dorcas, they mixed 3 little in it, in a very moderate way, and Dorcas had her friends and favorites, and indeed, on the whole. was, perhaps, made a. good deal ofâ€"-â€" because‘pcople wore so sorry for her. they said, and because it was such a terrible disadvantage to a girl to have a mother like Letty. “Of course nobody would ever be so cruel as to say a word to her, but she is sure to hear the truth sooner or later, poor dear,” they often said ; and in their tenderness over her the story of her father's that, if Dorcas did not. it, it was almost more her fault than theirs. But yet, up to this time, she had not guessed it, and, happy in her ignorance, and in her unconsciousâ€" ness that there was anything in her history that was kept a secret from her, she went her way without susâ€" picion, and took her place in the little world amidst which she lived, frankly and fearlessly ; until, when she had a little while passed her seventeenth birthday, there came this visit of Mrs. Markham’s, which set her pondering about various things of which she had scarcely thought before. In truth, at this period of her life, the girl in her heart was a rabid little aristocrat, and whatever was unrefined or common, even though it might be so only in outward apâ€" pearance, found little favor or charâ€" ity in her sight.- To a large extent it was because he was so perfect a gentleman that she was so proud of her father, and if her mother had been as perfect a lady, she would have loved her better than she did, I am afraid, by a good deal. As it was, somehow she knew instinctiveâ€" ly that Letty was not like her father. She knew itâ€"she seemed alâ€" ways to have known it : vaguely, as far as any comprehension went of wherein lay the difference between them, but very certainly and clearly indeed as to the difference itself. But yet to her mother’s shortcomâ€" ings Dorcas had been so long accus- tomed that she had comeâ€"as was only naturalâ€"to accept them simply as matters of course, without Wou- der or question, or onlyâ€"when they were brought prominently before herâ€"with a little occasional annoy- ance. They were not aggressive faults (poor Letty’s failings all her life had been so much more of the negative than the positive kind) 2 she might be a little different from other people, but she was not startling, andâ€"and vulgar, as surely Mrs. Markham Was ‘:‘ She could not make up her mind to like the latter, that was the honâ€" est truth of it. She was a dainty little lady, and she was ashamed to think that this redâ€"faced woman, who called her father “sir” and and could not In fact, it prostrated. Chase's Nerve be kept from making the beds and mending everybody’s stockings, was her mother's aunt. I am afraid that during these days the girl made many a time. and filled her with fears that she knew were very cowardly. How could she still hope now, when Dorcas was almost a. we- man, to keep it any longer hidden from her that she and her people had been so far beneath her father’s class ? and yet she had not courage to tell the secret to her that she had tried so long to keep. “I ought to do it, perhaps,” she said to Mrs. Markham sadly one dayâ€"“I feel that many a time : but when I think that, if she knew 'it, she’d look down upon me (for she’s hard at timesâ€"oh, I think we're all of us hard when we're very young l) I don’t know how to do it. And yet I feel she’ll find it out. some day. and make it Worse for me than if I told her now.” , “Well, Letty, my dear, if I was you, I would tell her, and have done with it," Mrs. Markham reâ€" plied to this speech. V"You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of; and, for my part, I think better of Dorcas than to believe she’d ever cast it up' to you, or bear a thought on her heart against you for it. She couldn’t do that, Letty, and you her own mother, though maybe she is a little bit still just now, and stuckâ€"up with pride, as girls often are at her age. But she’s a good girl in spite of that, and she couldn’t be good and not be tender over you.” ' “Aunt Markham, mamma lived with you, did she not, when she was a little girl ‘2” Dorcas said a. day or two afterwards, abruptly, to Mrs. Markham herself ; and Mrs. Markhamâ€"knowing how much in the dark the girl had been keptâ€"took a. moment or two hurriedly to arrange her thoughts, and thenâ€" "She lived with me before she married your father, my dear,” she said. "She came and stopped with me after her own mother died.” “Oh lâ€"and was that in London?” “N0 ; here.” The word slipped perceived that it would have been wiser to have omitted it. “Here in Shepton ?” in a tone of great surprise. “Yes.” Mrs. Markham gave her answer unâ€" willingly, but with Dorcas sitting before her, looking with her' keen eyes into , her face, how could she help giving it ? “In Shepton ! Then here ?” cried Dorcas. “Yes, my dear, I 'lived here for a bit." "And that was when papa fell in love with mamma ?” IIYOS'II “And mamma was your house ?” “Fromâ€"yes, yesâ€"she was married while she was stopping with me.” “Papa and momma always talk so little about old times. It is odd that. I never knew before that you lived in Shepton. What house did you live in, Aunt Markham ‘2" asked Dorcas placidly. But this was too much for Mrs. Markham. She suddenly rose from her seat, on the pretext that her sewing was finished. “Perhaps I'll show you some day,‘ my dear,” she said, with great out- ward selfâ€"possession, but inward un- easiness, and, taking up her work- basket, she walked away, and left Dorcas alone, puzzled, but still far from guessing the truth. ' (To Be Continued). $__.__. THE 'BLOOM '01: HEALTH. you lived married from h. How to Keep Little Ones Bright, - Active and Healthy. Every mother knows that little children need careful attentionâ€"but they do not need strong drugs. When baby is peevish, cross or unwell, it is an unfortunate fact that too many mothers (lose them with so-called “soothing” medicines which stupefy and put the little one into an unâ€" natural sleep, but do not remove the cause of the trouble. What is wantâ€" ed to make the little one bright,- cheerful and well, is Baby’s Own Il‘ablets, which will promptly cure colic, sour stomach, indigestion, constipation, diarrhoea, simple feâ€" vers and teething troubles. They give children sound, refreshing sleep, because they remove the cause of the trouble. These tablets are guaran- teed to contain no opiate or other harmful drug. Mrs. James Found, Valentia, 0nt., says:-â€"â€"-“Before I got Baby’s Own Tablets, my baby was very pale and delicate, and so peev- ish that I had to walk the floor with him day and night. The first tablet I gave him helped him, and that night he slept soundly. Since then the tablets have made him perfectly well, and he is now a fine, healthy looking baby, and is getting quite fat. I Would not be without the tablets if they cost a dollar a box." Baby’s Own Tablets are ‘good for children of all ages and are taken as readily as candy. Crushed to a powder, they can be given with ab- solute safety to the youngest. weakâ€" Sold by all druggists or sent postpaid at 25 cents a. box. by addressing the Dr. Williams Medicine 00., Brockville, Ont. €â€"â€"._.+____ Maud: "But you must have given him encouragement, Nell." Neil: "Why, my dear, how foolish! Of course, I used to take walks with him almost every afternoon. and of- ten go to the theatre and skating rink withIhim, and have him to din- ner at the house, and .go to 'church with him, and dance with him at the class, but really never gave him any encouragement.” Letty’s heart ache ‘RENDERS from Mrs. Markham’s lips before she ‘ ____.___._-...._._‘ POUR DIGESTIUN. f DYSPEPTIC MISEB ABLE. Food Becomes Distasteful and 3“ Feeling of Weariness, Pain and 'Depression Ensues. " From LeSorelois, Sore], Que. Of the diseases afflicting mankind dyspepsia is one of the worst to enâ€" dure. Its victims find life almost a- burden. Food becomes distasteful;; they suffer from severe pains in the stomach; sometimes excessive heart? palpitation, and a general feeling of? weakness and depression. Thoughr this disea‘se is one of the most dis-j tressing, it is one which, if the pro-j per remedy is employen, can be readâ€"f ily cured. Thousands throughout this country bear testimony to the efficacy of Dr. Williams’ 'Pink Pills asl a never failing cure. Among them is Mrs. Adolphe A. Latrousse, a well! known, and highly esteemed lady reâ€"i ‘ siding at Sorel, Que, She says:â€" "For two years I was a constant sufâ€"Z fcreerrom bad digestion and its ac4 companying symptoms. Food became distasteful and 1 grew very weak, Ii suffered much from pains in the atom-1' hell and head. I could not obtain, restful sleep and became unfit for all. housework. I tried several medicines without finding the least relief and If continually grew worse until in the end I Would vomit everything I ate. I had almost given up hope of ever being well again when one day I read of a case similar to mine cured through the use 2531' Dr. Williams' Pink Pills. I determined to give these pills a trial and am happy toâ€"day that I did so, as by the time I had taken. eight 'or nine boxes my strength had returned, the pains which had so long racked me disap« peared, my stomach would digest; food properly and I had fully regain- ed my old time health, and have not since had any return of the trouble.” Dr. Williams' Pink Pills are a pure- ly tonic medicine and unlike all pur- gatives, do not weaken the system, but give life and energy with every dose. They are a. certain cure for anaemia, dizziness, heart troubles,- rheumatism, sciatica, indigestion, partial paralysis, St. Vitus’ dance and the functional ailments that make the lives of so many women an almost constant source of misery: Sold by dealers in medicine. or sent postpaid at 50 cents a box or six boxes for $2.50 by addressing the ' Medicine 00., Brock«‘ Dr. Williams’ ville, Ont. HERBTC R'l‘ FINN} K. The Herbert frock develops lj'eautiâ€" fully in linen or colored or white pique. Then again, it does well in serge, or in any of the lightly wo.vâ€" en goods of spring. The wide colâ€" lar on this little doubleâ€"breasted costume is its most attractive feaâ€" ture. The use of flu: ruliie is opâ€" tional. Narrow braid might. to used to decorate the. collar and cuffs with good fabric, or a dark shade of cotâ€" ton, the shield and small collar may be of white pligue to give a. dainty touch. Quantities of material required.â€" The size for two years will require two and three-fourths yards of’ goods thirtyâ€"six inches wide, or'one and oneâ€"half yards of goods fiftyâ€" four inches wide. The sire for four years ‘ will require thrre and one~ fourth yards of goods thirtyâ€"six inâ€" ches wide, or one and three~fourths yards of goods fifty-four inches wide. _____._...+ a..--__.. Mrs. De Fadd: "The latest fashion is to have the piano built into the wall.” Mr. lle l-‘add (wearily): “Well, that’s sensible! Let’s wall up ours.” Clerk: ""1 Would like to get off early, sir, as my wife wants me to do seine odd jobs round the house while it is light. mmugh.” The Manâ€" ager: "Can’t possibly do if.” Clerk: “Thank you, sir. You are very kind.” A lady was looking for her hus- band, and inquired anxiously of a housemaid: “Do you happen to know anything of your master’s whereabouts?" “I'm not sure, ma’am," replied the careful domes- iic, "but I llfink they're in the wash." In Great Britain there are only 52- books in public libraries ‘ro each 10‘ of the popularlion. li‘rance has 129 and Denmark 4-12. THE LIFE or THE- .flvfin ipu.w¢fisfis€¥€fi’m ' sky: Maw. 1.2g": a... «Jar; usage}: 1%“ mgégfflfi- c131,, _-. A . '9‘.“ . w a; swarms?“ 3'2-1 a _ s12 -£'$?~:é:rf "‘r «0:! l .l. V; .w -...« N .I..< â€"-~â€"~..4W)-V . < l f