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n-wrv \1‘ «A. - .'<V>- . ~, ask". .u.,., Swarm-r w'.»<~ . w. « . .« yor paid for her tiny suite was as .I go away?” .little careless of old friends as his quaintances h 4* 0 .V A' . §’~”o“¢":°':”:“:":“:“:"z";°*:":":":":”:”:”:"z’ shock of this killed him. 3 1;. ther died when I was a child, so that “of. :z; I stood quite alone. I was leftwery ‘02. F 0- .3. badly provided for, and I had only I? A .;. such relatives as did not believe in :2: . 93° the practice of holding out a helping 3 2’ hand to those in poor circumstances. :3: :3: “Byâ€"and-by things became a. little! '2‘ . .3. easier, I found employment, Soon 5’ after 'this I was one night walking. (0 .OQOQOOOOOIO...‘ Q. C. C‘ ‘9 0°.“..'....‘...’.‘¢'¢‘.°..Q’.’.°.V...... 1. 6...}? Wthrough one of the Twilight had gathered in Miss Treâ€" Squares in the Weakend 0‘ Lond‘m' .vor’s little sitting-room, but the fire burned cheerfully, and the dancing fl . . . ‘ i, _ ames lit up Miss Tlevm 8 face as ‘Of the big houses I paused. The she sat back in her eh i‘. Her atti- . ’ ‘11 llight was streaming through the tude was one of repose. Some needâ€" lop Cl tr Ice door and I had a fairy lewo k 1 'd -, on 1 a‘ ‘ i « r ay 1 16 in her 'lap She had lglimpse of a flowerâ€"filled nall, dropped it unheedinglyfi Her eyes , y , were absomed her calm white f0,.e_ lstately rooms beyond. l‘hcrc Welc ' voices in the hall, then the door bead drawn torrether in a. uzzled . , D p closed, and a man’s figure came so frown. . . . . swn’tly down the steps that I had Lucy Tlevor always messed m not time to move away, and he alâ€"a grey. Somehow the neutral color most ran into me. A cry of recogf, suited hm" She was not at all .331 nition came from both of us. It was old womanâ€"barely past her thirtieth mv old friend. birthday, in fact; yetell the joy that “I could not escape, as I would should be youth’s dearest gift had rather have done, and he held my dled for her before She was twenty' hand and looked into my face, the Beneath her work a little black opal-mo of triumph in his eyes, _the volume 133’ in her lap, and COUld 0110 flush of success on his face. Oh, it have peeped inside it one would have made me glad to see him like that. seen that its leaves Were covered with.I knew that ho had spent a delight- a beautiful, neat handwriting, in ful evening amongst his aristocratic ink that was just beginning to fade. friends. His voice rang out jubilant Miss Trevor's dreams ware of the in the night air. ' person who had written in that book, " 'Dear little Woman,’ he said (I 00 and thought that the cool summon air would refresh me. Outside one- 'but she was suddenly brought back ,can remember every word), 'I am so to real life by an insistent knocking pleased to see you_ It was on I upon the OUtSidc (1001‘; and riSing wanted to complete my happiness to open it she welcomed the visitor, this evening, 1t is the night, of my ‘1 bright-faced girl With EunShinC in life, LuCy. There was such a crowd her eyes and 11 Pleasant, merry ring of people, and all invited to hear me in her young voice. read to them a play of mine.’ These two Were rare friends. The “He went on talking to me very newcomer, Susie Merling, lived with kindlyâ€"almost as he used 120 (10â€" I her mother in a, flat, in the some think he fancied that he had slighted building as Miss Trevor, only on a. me and that I might feel 3 little lower floor, which made all the difâ€" hurt. But I did not really. I quite feronce in the rent-.11, understood how his engagements de- The small amount that Miss Tre- mantled his time and his thoughts. “Just as I was leavzng him he much as her slender means could a;â€" thrust this little book into my hand. fashionable would express its admiration, its de- It was late, but I had a headache, the forgotten singer the fame and and I er. aloud; and yet she realized that it Was too late for anything to be done that night. Taking up his book, she fingered it with loving hands that were even more tender than usual in their touch. She glanced at the picturesque writing. Here, in this little book, was the best Work he had ever done. If only the world possessed that!, It light»; would perhaps give back to riches that it had once showered upâ€" on him: all that he had lost would be within his grasp again. Then a thought occurred to her. She could sell this book to a. publishâ€" It was a brilliant idea, but her heart grew cold at the thought of it, and her lips trembled. The book which had been for her eyes alone had become so sacred to the lonely, deserted woman. She‘had felt that with this gift, precious beyond all telling, there was a subtle link be- twoen her and the man she had lovâ€" edâ€"loved still. Could she part with itâ€"could she give it up into alien hands? “It is for his sake,” she whisper- ed, “and\,I will do it.” i i * I § § The next morning saw her early astir. She had some experience amongst the world of writers and publishers, and had decided the night before at which houses she would stand most chance of disposing of this book. But the first house she called upon would have nothing to do with it. "Mr. Marchmont’s day is over,” pronounced the head of the firm. "Quite an ephemeral reputation. Scarcely remembered» by half a. hunâ€" dred of the reading public. To pro- duce it would mean a dead failure.” The next house she visited was more sympathetic. One of the partâ€" ners saw her, glanced over one or two pages of the precious manuscript and was visibly struck with the poem. But after some hesitation he ford. She earned a fairly steady inâ€" ‘It is a Playâ€"my first; Perhaps the .told her that he was afraid to make come from penâ€"andâ€"ink sketches, and best thing I have ever Written 01‘ of late she had increased her connecâ€" Shall 0V91"Writei Take it- I give tion amongst editors of popular jourâ€" it to you. Lucy, TOYâ€"for the sake Of nals’ and. this year promised to be old times. It shall never be pub- the best she had as yet known. lished; it is yours. Will you accept “I declare I must have been far it? Andâ€"and forgive me. dear-"l away in drcamland,” she said. He said that; and before I couldI “Not a faVorite occupation of stamlner out thanks he left me there. i yours either, is it, Miss Trevor? I “It Wasalmost with reverence that believe I have disturbed you. Shall I touched the volume. I knew the sacrifice it must have cost him to “Dear chip], no," replied the other, give me thisâ€"the child of his brain brightly. "I was thinking some few which no other eyes than mine Would minutes back how much I wished you CVCI‘ 100k uPOD- I haVe not seen himl were here to share my lonely cup SinCC-" of tea. Sit down, my clear; it shall “Then he really deserted you? It bo‘mode in two minutes." was despicable, Miss Trevor," said So they sat down now before the the girl: in 10W, indignant tones- V fire and drank their tea, and talked "Ah, dear: don't Speak harShly 0f as women who have much in common him- You cannot understand. . His, will talk, enjoying each other’s 80â€" success exceedea anything he had piety, - dreamed of. He was the comet of a When she had started up to let Season" Susie in Miss Trevor had reverently "And HOWâ€"What is he now?” placed that small, blackâ€"bound book Miss Trevor looked down. "Ii on a tiny gimcrack table, and now a don't hear Of‘ him Very Often n0W.H hasty movement on her part over- she faltered. "He wrote something balanced this fragile piece of form- that the critics did not care aboutâ€" turc, and the book fell almost at they were dreadfully severeâ€"and Susie’s feet, Miss Trevor pounced somehow his name seems almost for- upon it with a brightflush on her EOttell- They said that his Work face, and the girl looked at her with had lost all the dainty charm that questioning eyes, _ V had once distinguished it, that his ' “Miss Trevor," she said, solemnly, later poetry has never equalled his “you've been in a sentimental mood earlier Work" this. afternoon.” ' “That is easy to understand," said “What should make you think the girl» With (111th SCOI‘H- "The'l that?” asked Lucy, with a. questionâ€" world had not SPOiled him then. Hcl ing smile, was less selfish, his ideals less ma- “Because I see you with that book. tcrial-n There is some mystery about it I “You would not have said that he suppose you 'think me very inquisiâ€" was selfiSh had you known him.” 1‘0- tive, but I Would give worlds to Plied Miss Trevor, earnestly. "He know What is in that book. In a was merely weak and Carried away way I am jealous of. it; you think a by success until he was false to what great deal more of it than you do was best in him. That was all." of me.” Susie had other matters to attend “Nonsense, door,” said the other, to besides taking tea with her dear but her pole, swootfaco went, Grim. friend Miss Trevor, so presently she son once more. “It was a present, said 8’00d'bye and Went on her Way. given me years ago by someone I Miss Trevor, left alone, cleared cared for," away the teaâ€"things, took them out "I 'am sorry,” said the girl quick. into her little kitchen, washed them ly;' she had detected the note of up and 13111? them away in the CUP‘ pain in the elder woman’s voice. board» and then. returning to the “It is all right," smiled Miss Treâ€" sitting-room. took up the morning vor; “itâ€"it happened long ago_ He paper, Which she had not yet looked has forgotten me by this, but once at- we were Very dear to each other; at Su'ddenly She gave Du little cry, and least, he was to me,” leaning her head forward read with “And is still,” said the girl to strained eyes the few lines that had herself. , ' caught her attention:â€" “Ho was a, poet," went on Miss “We learn with regret that Mr. Trevor, and her voice Was a little Wilfrid Marchmont, whose poetic tremulous. “We met in London gifts attracted considerable attention when he Was unknown. He used to some years back is lying 591’3011515’ tell me of his dreams of fame, used in at his apartments, 5, Westover to read me his poems, before he Street, I-Iampstead. Mr. Marchmont found any other pubno to take in- has not been before the public very tel‘est in them. He called me his mUCh Of late years. 311d “70 fear that little sweetheart, I was only a, he has fallen into poverty. That his girl then, little more than a childâ€" popularity has declined is, we venâ€" and I took his words more serious- ture to think, due in no small mea- ly, perhaps, than they were intended. sum to 11i1n501f~ His later llm‘tl‘y He had a, very hard struggleâ€"but he has decidedly lost those qualities would say that the thought, of me which first won him fame. lint his comforted him, that, so long as he public still existsâ€"as a public must had my symoathy, my loveâ€"and I always exist for those who have gave him bothâ€"the world's coldness €000 Work to Offerâ€"11nd if Mr. would not, trouble him, Marehmont has in his portfolio any- “But one day fortune smiled on thing ulna} ‘130 his first PubliShed him. A volume of verse attracted a, book of verse there is little doubt great deal of attention, was praised that bOth pecuniary and artistic in all the important reviews, mid, success will be his once more.” like Byron, he awoke to find himâ€"l The paper dropped from Miss Tre- self famous." vor’s shaking hands and a mist came “And then?” over her eyes. He was ill and in “Well, we seemed to drift apart, Want. needing a woman's help. a woâ€" sonlehow. He was made a. lot of in man-'8 Pity- 011. Why had he not sockny,irndted to the best houses as sent for her? lie nfight have knovnl the chief guest. Heâ€"he became a that. though all his butterfly ac- had left him to die success increased. I did not see alone. She WORM be‘tl‘ue- much of him, and when he visited us “What can I (10?" she asked herâ€" there was no lnore talk of love or self, desperately. of marriageâ€"as there had once been. She got up from her chair with a “My father lost all his money,” quick, impatient movement. [he want on, after a pause, “and the “I cannot stay here,” she said an ofler for itâ€"â€"the publishing risk was too great, despite what the newspaper had said. Still persevoring, Miss Trevor went to .the last name upon her listâ€"a comparatively new firm, noted for their enterprise. Here she obtained better success. The junior partner saw her. He took the book from her, retired with it to his private room, and kept her waiting an hour. At the expiration of that time he sent for her to come to his sanctum, and informed her that he would accept the poetic play for publication. "It is a fine thing,” he said; “it should go well. We shall build up Mr. Marchmont’s reputation once more. I suppose he has commission- ed you to dispose of it for him?” Miss Trevor hesitated and succeed- ed in evading the question. She went away jubilant. The pub- lisher had promised to have the work produced without delay. He was not a man to lose time. Having concluded this business Miss Tl‘eVOI‘ visited sundry shops, where she bought a variety of delicacies such as would be likely to. tempt an invalid appetite, and then with a queer little thrill in her heart she told the cabman to drive to West~ over Street, Hampstead. At last the cab drew up before a shabby houseâ€"a typical lodgingâ€" houseâ€"and in answer to her ring a slatternly .maidâ€"ofâ€"allâ€"work came to the door and looked with astonishâ€" ' mcnt arr-the quiet, ladyâ€"like woman, dressed in pearlâ€"grey, who stood beâ€" fore her and asked to see Mr. March- mont.‘ llikin't ’ere. Was took to the ’or'spital this morning," said the danlseL} hospital?” asked Miss Tre- vor,. faTteringly. “The ll‘letropolitan," answered the girl; and, thanking her, Miss Trevor turned away and reâ€"entered the cab, telling the man to drive her to that home of suffering. ' When she reached there she asked to see the house-surgeon, who, after listening courteously to her request, referred her to the nurse who had charge of the case. Upon interview- ing that person, 'a bright, capable woman, with a strong face and quiet, steadfast eyes, Miss Trevor was giv- en permission to see Wilfrid March- niont. “Ile is very ill,” the nurse warned her; “enteric fever, but we hope to pull him through." Lucy Trevor had prepared hersell for a shock, but when she reached the bedside she could. hardly recog- nize in this still figure, with the emaciated features, the man she gave a tiny cry, and the nurse ut- tered a. warning hush. But the pa- tient had heard, and he opened his eyes. There was no recognition in their depths, though his blackened lips mumbled strange and incoherent Words. She sat there a few minutes, strok- ed the thin, white hands, and then she felt her self-control was equal to no more, so she left the hospital, saying she would come again the next day. I I O O i Q There was a sharp tussle between life and death, but Wilfrid March- mont pulled through, and Miss Tre- vor could never forget the day when his brain cleared and he recognized her. “Lucy!” he murmured, as she took her place by the bedside and the nursa discreetly vanished. He looked up into tlleical'nl, sWeet face, eloâ€" QUent with all love, all sympathy, and his heart throbbed with re- morse and pain, and dropping‘ her hand he turned his head away. "Are you not glad to see me?” she asked. “Glad?” he echoed, looking at her once more. “What can I say to ex- press my gladness? All my friends have failed me except youâ€"you whom I treated with ~such carelessness and indifference.” "We can forget that now,” she said, gently. “You had other interâ€" ests in lifeâ€"other friends.” "I was a fool, who mistook the false for the real, tinsel for gold. I was a fool, Lucyâ€"such as all men are when they allow themselves to become intoxicated by the foolish flatteries that people utterâ€"flatteries that sound so much and mean so little. It was you 1 should have turned to in the hour of my success; you I should have asked to share good fortune with me. But I wor- shipped at other shrines, and I have been punished. My power of writing languished and died in that artificial atmosphere. It was not suited to me, Lucy. I should have kept up my former standard'away from society, cheered by your companionship; for, now that I have had time to think over things, I realize that it was your gentle sympathy and encourageâ€" ment which taught me to write. Without them I should never have succeeded. And how ungrateful .I was! If my position were otherwise than it is, if I had anything to offer you that was worthy of your acceptâ€" ance, how gladly would I lay it at your feetâ€"how gladly! But I have nothing but the love of a man who has recognized his mistakes.” She turned away 139 hide the glad tears that came into her eyes. Poor, faithful heart, it seemed too beauti- ful to be true. That he should care for her, have found her necessary to his happiness, his work! And when next she came she read to him from a number of papers she had brought with her reviews upon his new bookâ€"published a week beâ€" fore. There was no dissentient voice. The critics had nothing but praise for it. The poet was raised once more upon the pedestal of fame which he had earned years before, and then lost. The book promised to be a financial as well as an ar- tistic success; An impetus was giv- en to the sale of his published Works. Fortune smiled on him once more. . - “When I get better, if it is God’s will that I do,” he said to himself, in all humbleness of spirit, "I will ask this faithful woman to share the rest of my life, and try to atone for my past folly and neglect." He did get better, and found that happiness which might have been his years ago had he only, by being true to Lucy Trevor, been true to him- self as well.~â€"London Tit-Bits. _.____.+..____â€"â€"â€"â€" FOR SURGICAL WORK. .â€" Surgeons Are Interested in New Cinematograph. The Paris correspondent of the London Daily Mail says: Dr. Doyen, the eminent French sur- geon, has invented an apparatus which is likely to excite considerable interest in the scientific world. The novelty consists of an ingenious apâ€" pliance by means of which cinematoâ€" graphic projections are thrown upon the screen with the relief which acâ€" companies the object in nature. Dr. Doyen was good enough to re- ceive me in his splendidly-equipped institute in the Rue Piccini. In a room oil the operating theatre was fixed an ordinary cinematograph, and when the instrument was set in mo- tion I saw Dr. Doycn and two asâ€" sistants engaged in an operation for the removal of an abdominal cyst. At first I remarked nothing unâ€" usual, but when Dl‘.. Doyen said,"Now look through that.” I took hold of something which appeared to be a padlock, but which, on examination, I found to consist of two small semiâ€" circular aluminuln plates, with some mechanism between. and a couple of apertures for the. eyes. As soon as I looked through this the scene Was changed. Instead of the usual cillelnatograph picture, with everything on the same plane I saw Dr. Doyen, in his operating blouse, standing in the foreground, his skilful hands manupulating sharp, wicked-looking instruments, his as- sistant helping him on the other side of the “subject,” and another doctor administering the chloroform which kept the patient unconscious of the great crisis through which he Was passing. ' The illusion was perfect, and while the cinematograph band was running off the picture it all seemed so life- like that the spectator felt as if he were actually present at the opera- tion. ‘ The utility of the invention con- sists in the possibility of displaying before the eyes of almost any num- ber of students typical surgical oper- ations in their minutest details and in the most lifelike aspect. +_..__._._ “Pa,” said little Jimmy, “I was very near getting to the head of the class ‘ to-dav.” "How was that, Jimmy '2” “’Why, a big word came ,all the way 'down to me, and if I could only have spelt it I should have gone clear up." ' __â€"â€"¢_.â€" {fuse you. nothingâ€"neither fame nor fortuneâ€". llS FIGHT TURKS- BULGAIRIAN Wâ€"O-MEN JOIN IN- SURGENT ARMY. ._._: The Romance of KrIStm Petkova. â€"â€"Some of the Women Are Officers. In the desultory warfare which is being carried on against the Turk in tl.e Balkans women have come to the front again as soldiers. Among the Bulgarian insurgents, who invade Macedonia and raid villages are a number of ulnazons who are sure of foot in the mountain climbing and sure of aim in the fighting which is carnied on in village and on the mountain side. These Women, unlike others who have enlisted iii tlze armies, do not 'attempt to conceal the fact that they are worsen. Some of them wear their hair hanging free to .disâ€" play the fact that they are alnazons. For a civilized, or supposedly civ- ilized, country, the woman soldier is an almost unknown quantity, and for that reason the,fair soldiers of Bulgaria who are risking the perils of an u::-ecognlzed war fare against the Turk are attracting attention. A ROMANCE. Kristina Petkova is one of these soldiers. The uniform she wears is a. distinctly serviceable oneâ€"strapped leggins, coarse woolen trousers, and loose fitting blouse, with cartridge belt around the waist and around the shoul-uers, musket strapped to the back, and saber at tl.e side. There is a romance connected with her service ill the Bulgalian ranks of the Macedoxian army. 1for fiance is a young officer in the same army. During one of the mountain climbing raids which are undertaken to drive the Macedonian peasants into revolt against the Turks he led a detach- ment against a village where the Turkish forces were found in unexâ€" pected numbers. A quick retreat was all that saved the Bulgauiau solâ€" diels, but ill this flight the young officer was captured, being in the rear of the retiring B..lgarialis. His comrades, llavi ~g escaped to the mountains, carried the news of his capture to Kristina. 1n lter des- pair, knowing that there was little chance of anything but death for hiln, she gathered about her a numâ€" ber cf insurgents for an attempt at rescue. ' They rctraced their way delvn the mountain to the village and were planning a night attack when the young officer suddenly appeared among them. He had succeeded in cluding the guard placed over him and had made his escape. The young girl, however, had cast her lot with the Bulgarian cause and to be with her lover during the. cam- paigns she deLided to enlist as a .soldier. He protested at first, but finally relented, being willing to al- low' nor to brave the dangers since she showed the spilit necessary for it. . Among the other women who are seeing service in the Bulgarian army in Macedonia are some who are officers, most of them being noncomâ€" inissioned. Arnoudova is a Sergeant, but unlike Kristina, she is desirous of appearing as a man. In her uni- form she appears to be a sturdy, good looking youth of 21. FIGII-IT FOR HOMES. The character of the Warfare being. carried on in the Balkans is of a kind which would attract women to the service. At least, it is a repeti- tion of the kind which has attracted them in times pastâ€"a repetition of the desultory but fierce struggles \vhli:h have been waged with all the gieater feroiiy because they have been lillel‘gal-i2.eci. ‘ Religion and race prejudices are among the causes \vhi h make the legarians and Matedozian troops the natural enemies of the Turks. It is a struggle for homes and churches, and such a stingng always has claimed the most active interest on the part of women. When {.m‘eign policies cause a war =.it is seldom that women get closely Iin touch with it, but as soon as homes are threatened they will be found identified with the men. Fron- tier life in America demanded that the women be as ready With a- rifle as the men, and the condition in the Balkalzs now presents a similar pro- blem to the Bulgarian women. â€".+â€"~â€"-â€"â€"â€" THEY BOTH llAI) DOUBTS. 'A certain professor, who shall be nanleiess, tells the following good story against himself, relating to an expeirience he llllil when crossing the Atlantic from tl‘e United Statesm- (eitily. He had been unable to get a stale-room for himself, but, on asâ€" surances by the purser that he would have for a roomâ€"mate sonic companâ€" ionable gentleman, he. accepted what 110 could get. “Now, after a short while," says the narrator, “I began to find myâ€" self thinking of some valuables that I had about me, and went with them finally to the purs‘ur, to entrust them to his keeping. ” ‘I would explain to you,’ I said to the purser, ‘thut I can very much pleased with my roommlate. That is, I find him a gentleman in every resrzect, and I Wouldn't have you think thatâ€"that isâ€"â€"I wouldn’t have you think my coming to you with these valuables is»e:‘â€"â€"aâ€"â€"any reflec- tion upon him, you know. pearance is in every wayâ€"-â€"â€"’ “And here,” the narrator says. “the purser interrupted me, with a. somewhat broad oil-lilo. “ 'Yes‘., (in, it's all right: to has Don’t take chances of proposing to come in me with some vn‘llablesu al- a girl on Friday; she might not rcâ€" iso, and he says the Tory sumo thin: I}! {about you. Ills ap- , - ~ - n‘i‘v”w1\‘1n 1K~c‘.‘.~ i ;.dw7.sfl.