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He had been in the company of Norah a whole evening. and they had only exâ€" changed a,few words, and those, on her part, of the coldest! What was .the meaning of it? What had he done that. she should treat him so? Had her father, the earl, been putâ€" ting pressure upon her, and per- suaded her to give him up“? Was she so fickle that a few days' .absence had been sufficient to bring her forgetâ€" fulness? When he got to The Chequers he was surprised to find the little inn wrapped in slumber and darkness. He had not Xpet'ted Mrs. Brown or o’cIOck a. n1. was to the good folks of Santleigli an unearthly hour. He knocked at the door, gently at first, then, as no response came, more loudly. He stood there for some minutes, five or ten, perhaps, but if The Chequers had been a tomb in- stead of an inn it could not. have been more silent. The time was going on, and the station was some distance. 'As he stood there in the quiet street the {temptation to give up his {ourney to, Brittany, give up everything, and rcâ€"' grain to :lear up the trouble withl orah, assailed him strongly; but' be resisted it with all his mentali force. To turn back now that he hadl got his hand to the plow and the first furrow cut, would be almost unl- manly. Norah herself would be the first to regret it, if she did not even reproach him; and as for Jack Wes. Icyâ€"well, Cyril could almost hear his cynical voice girding at him forl throwing away the first chance of] winning fame and fortune. He knocked again presently, as the clock chimed out the half hour, he resolved to leave his things in Mrs. Brown’s care. He Would write toi her from London. After all, he couldl procure his artistic tools and some} clothes when he got to town. 't .would be rather awkward traveling. in dress clothes, but he had an overâ€" coat, and he could keep it buttoned over his coat and gleaming shirt front. There was only just time for him to catch the train, and even if he succeeded in waking Mrs. Brown some time must elapse before she could get dressed. Yes, it would be much better to leave his things and catch the train. Delay was always dangerousâ€"in his state of mind, ex- ceedingly so. He buttoned up his coat, and with a last glance at the windows of The Chequers, went quickly down the street. Events were shaping their course as they have a habit of doing, and in leaving Santleigh without seeing Mrs. Brown, or any person who could tes ,tify to his presence there that mornv ing. Cyril was but blindly following .‘the distatos of Fate. The station was to the left if Santleigh Park, and Cyril left the road and struck into a bypath. As he did so he heard the voices of the Willage folk coming toward Santlcigh, but he did not stop, and went on his .Way as quickly as possible. The night was gloomyâ€"the gloom that precedes the dawnâ€"and Cyril‘s mood fully harmonized with it. Every yard he but between him and Sant- leigh Court seemed to lengthen itself ominously, and his spirits fell Iowan and lower as he neared the station. There were no voices to be heard how, and the stillness of the weird hour was only broken by the shrill screech of a carncrake. He seemed so utterly alone and solitary in the stillness that it was with a start and an exclamation of surprise that he saw a man half-lying, halfâ€"sitting against a stile. Cyril had almost stumbled over him and started back, eyeing him almost, angrily. It is unpleasant to be startled. The man seemed to be asleep, but as Cyril was licsitating whether to Wake him or not, he decided the question by slowly rising, and shakâ€" ing himself very much as a New- foundland dog shakes himself when aroused from a short nap. “\l'hy, my good fellow, I i‘tumblcd over you! ’ ’ “Ilid you?” said the man quietly. “‘I reckon that would have been as, bad for me as for you.”~ | Cyril started. He had heard the] .voice before somewhere, but he could not recollect for the moment where. “Do I know you, my friend?'-" he asked, peering at him. “It isn't likely. sir,’ he said, in~ differently. "I’m a stranger in these parts. Have you got such a thing as a light about you?" Cyril took out hi7! matchbox and struck it light. and 5;; it burned up nearly 7 I hr! uttered an exclamation of sur- prise. 4 “Why, it’s Furlong, isn’t it?” .‘.e said. 'A look of surprise came. over the man's rugged face. and he stared un- der his bushy brows at Cyril. “That’s my name,” he replied, “and youâ€"â€"? You are the young gentleman I saw at Mr. Wesley’s?” “I am,” said Cyril. “This is a strange meeting, Mr. Furlong! This is the last place in the world I should have expected to see you in.” “The place i‘sn't half bad,” remarkâ€" ed Furlong, glancing round calmly. “I’ve seen woxse, and I’ve seen betâ€" ter.” “Butâ€"but, if it, isn't a rude quesâ€" tion, what are you doing down here?) asked Cyril, hurriedly glancing at his watch. “I was trying to get a little sleep,” replied Furlong, as coolly as if it were quite the usual thing to pass the night in the open air. "Not a very comfortable bed, I’m afraid.” “I’ve had better, and worse,”- rc~ turned li‘urlong, as before. “Do you know any one down here?" he asked. “I see you're. rather curious to know what brought me in these out» ofâ€"the-way parts, sir,” he said. “Well, I am, I confess," assented Cyril. “And I'm hanged if I could. tell you," said Furlong rith a short, gruff laugh. “The fact is London and I don’t agree together for long, sir. It’s well enough for a townâ€"bred man, but I've been a wanderer all my life, and after I’ve been shut up in one of your great cities for a week or two Iâ€"Well, I just begin to suf- focate.” “I know the feeling," said Cyril. “Look here, I’ve got to catch the market train, and my time‘s short; perhaps you won’t mind keeping me company for a half a mile; that is. unless you'd rather go to bed again." “No, I can put my snooze 'oll‘," said Furlong. “And so you have tramped down here for change of air?” “Yes, and change of thonghts; more of the latter than the former, Mr. Burne. It's difficult for a man to leave off thinking in a big city, and I’m not so fond of my thoughts as to want ’em always with me.” Cyril remembered Jack Wesley’s halfâ€"expressul bint'as to the man’s antecedents, and glanced at him rather curiously. "But what made you choose Sant- leigh?” he asked. “Is that the name of this place? I didn’t know." “The village lies the other side of the park.” “'And the big houseâ€"what is that?" “Santleigh Court, one of Lord Ar- rowdale's country seats," replied Cyril, and he stifled a sigh, for with the mention of the name back came the thought of Norah. “Ah! Well, I didn’t choose it in particular; all places are alike to me so that there are plenty of green fields and fresh air," said Furlong. “Somewhere I can breathe, and can lose the feeling that the houses are drawing together and coming on top of me." "I understantf’ said Cyril. “And my friend, Mr. Wesley, does he know that you have fled from the houses?" “ch," replied Furlong. “I told him I was going to take a few days' holiday, but I didn't say in what. direction I was going; I didn't very well know myself, you see. Per- haps, sir"â€"hc hesitated for a mo- mentâ€"“perhaps, if it doesn't make any difference to you, you won't mention that you’ve met me?" “Certainly not, if you don’t wish it,” he said; “b11tâ€"â€"” “You’re wondering why I should ask you, sir?" said Furlong. “Well, it seems rather strange,” said Cyril. "I. don't see’ why you should care whether Mr Wesley knows 01' does not know that I have met you." ' Furlong did not respond for a while, and )yril felt, rather than saw, him looking at him sidways from under his bushy brows; then he said: "Strange? Yes, I dare say: but I’ve got my reasons, sir, and they are not altogether whimsical ones. If you insist upon my telling you ” “Oh, come, I haven’t the least wish to pry into your private af- fairs. If you have good reasons for. keeping your movements secret, that should be sufiicient for both of us: it is for me, at any rate." “Thank you, sir. I dare say I shall : be back before Mr. Wesley me.” There Was silence between them for a while, but Cyril every now and then found his companion glancing at him covertly; and he smiled to himself, as he thought that if Mr. Furlong was a bad character, how easily he could deal him, Cyril, a blow and case him of his watch and chain. " But the idea (lid not"al;irm him, miser "You’re traveling by an early train,” said Furlong. "Yes," said Cyril, with a. sigh, “I am going to leave England; for some time, I’m afra.id."~ “Yes, Sit“? On pleasure, I hope?" “No; business," said Cyril. “That’s pleasure sometimes," ro- marked Mr. Furlong, philosophically. They were nearing the station lights and he stopped as he spoke. “Going back?” said Cyril. 'l‘chll, thank you for your company; I wish you an enjoyable holiday " “Thank you, sir,” said Furlong; “and you won't mention to any one that you chanced to meet me’?” “Not to any one,” said Cyril, with a smile. “Good-night; or, rath’ er, good-morning." They parted and Cyril hurried on, but, happening to glance back, he saw that the man had left the high 'and he could not get} up any definite dstrust of that gentleman. ' road upon which they had been walkâ€". ing for some little time past, and had struck into the wood again. When Cyril got to the station the train was just coming in. There were one or two persons on the platform, which was dimly lightedâ€"a farmer or two, and two or three women go- ling to the market town, and yawn- ing emphatically. Cyril was making his way to the booking office, when one of the “'0 men, who was carrying a couple of bundles and a basket, and was ap- proaching the ticket hole, let one of the bundles drop. Cyril picked it up for her, and she took it and thanked him, but in her efforts to get out her money let the basket drop. Cyril’s good nature was always to the front, let the circumstances of the condition of his mind be what they might. “Let me get your ticket for you. Where are You going?" “Oh, thank you, sir. To London, lplease. 'A single.” “Two thirds single, please," he lsaid. The booking oflice clerk gave him one. “Two,” said Cyril. “You said one,” remarked the clerk with a sullen yawn. “I said two, but it doesn't mat- ter. I want two, anyway." The man flung the other ticket down in the courteous manner for which the station agent is so justly famous, and Cyril looked round for the woman. He found her just outside the bookâ€" ing ofizco door. gave her the ticket, and helped her and her bundles into. a ,carriage. When he followed her he saw that she was a young ‘woman of tbe'humâ€" ble but. respectable class, and as he put the bundles on the rack for her he noticed on one of them a direction label, “Nova Scotia, by the ship Penelope.” “You have a long journey before you, I see,” he said. “Yes, sir,” she responded. “I’m going out to join my sister in Canâ€" ada. She’s- in" service there, and have got a good place for me.” “I’m glad to lidar that," he said in the frank pleasant way. Well, I hope you will have a good time.” Then he settled himself in his cor- ner, and once more gave himSelf up to thinking of Norah. CHAPTER XXI. Guildford Berton had remained un- til nearly all the guests had gone; and after Norah had vanished he had, so to speak, transferred his at- tention to Lady Ferndale, hovering about her and rendering her little services in his peculiarly unobtrusive fashion, so that Lady Ferndale felt almost remorscful for her poor opinâ€" ion of him. Indeed, when at last he came up, hat in hand, to take his farewell, she smiled upon him more graciously than she had ever done before. “You have been very kind, Mr. Berton,” she said. “I 'don't know how to thank you enough for taking so much trOUble,” " But even as she spoke she caught herself asking mentally what it was in Mr. Berton’s dark, handsome face which jarred upon her. “I have taken no trouble, Lady Ferndale, but have just enjoyed with the rest what has indeed been a de- lightful time. I only hope that you are not quite worn out with all your exertions. It is a pity that you- could not have retired with Lady Norah, but that Vvould have been impossible, I suppose? I trust Lady Norah will have recovered from her fatigue tomorrow." “Oh, I hope so,” responded Lady Ferndale, and she looked at him keenly, for there was something in the tone in which he spoke Norah's name which caught her ladyship’s acme cars. “So that is it,” she murmured, she watched him walk off in his leis- llrcly, iiupassive manner. “Yes, he ihas been paying court to her all day. I’oor man, I wonder how he would feel if he knew how much Norah dislikes him!” \l’hatevcr ,his feelings might have ibecn under such l-znmvlcdgc, ixir. Guildford Berton was in the best of * red ihumors with himself as he sou. out into the cool, curly l‘nul‘llll" and as be carefully chose a, cigar from his case and cut it; a smile of satisfaction illtted over his dark face... livery man in the game of life has occasional irmings, and VGuildforli Berton had enjoyed some pretty suc- ccssful innith that. day. lndccd. as he went over it all as he walked along, he was conscious of a feling of surprise at the good fortune which had attended lzi1n. llc meant winning Lady Norah, by fair means if possible, by foul if foul Wash oilckfihs l and linoleums with warm water and Sunlight Soap, rinse clean and wipe dry. The colors will be preserved and the surface unharmed. ‘ Common soaps fade the colors and l iaiur: surface. Sunlight Soap cleans. freshcns and preserves oilcloths and linoleums. Sunlight Soap washes clothes white without injury to the most delicate Fabrics, or to the hands, for it. contains nothing that can injure either clothes or hands. Sunlight Soap is better than other soaps, but is best when used in the Sunlight way (Follow directions). Equally good with hard or soft water. 15: LEVER BROWSE-ills LlMlTED. Toronto were necessary; and as to scruplcsâ€"â€"!Way, notwithstanding that she had well, no such word as “scruples” ' been unintentionally of such use to was in his lexicon him toâ€"niglit. Some natures delight in plottingl As he wall-zed along he tried to and scheming, and (iuiidford llerton’s i think what he should do with her. was one of them. In the silent soliâ€" Becca was not easy to get rid of. tude of his gloomy cottage he had ' He might, if he had set about it spent many an. hour. since Norah's earlier, have procured her a good arrival at the Court, in trying t0.situation in London, but Norah had, find some means of securing her; but by taking Becca into her service, all to-llay them had actually been 110 unconsciously destroyed his chance of need for scheming. Everything hadigetting rid of her in that way. played into his hands: even Cyril As to marrying her! He smiled himself, although unconsciously. sardonically at, the thought. HO had feared that When Cyril The person he meant to marry was arrived he would seek out Norah and Lady Norah, not Becca, South, the monopolize her; but events he. oc- .Village girl who had served to amuse curred which, trivial in themselves, bin, and while away 8, dun hour m had kept'them apart, and then had two, come the scene between Cyril‘ and ‘ Becca. If Guildford Berton could have “staged” it personally he could not have done so to greater advantage to himself. Not only to Norah, but to any one, the placing ,of the ring on Becca's finger by Cyril would A city physician, who is described have looked like love~making. and-as possessing a “hairâ€"trigger” temâ€" Guildford Berton looked up at theiper, althoUgh he does not suspect it, Stars With an almost (10VOUt than'i‘ltells of one of the many experiences fulness that his luck had promptedlwhich try his patience; but this one him at that moment '00 ask Nora-h touched his sympathies too. to come into the air. To her it It isn't Often that 1‘ get, (wt of mUSt hflVO seemed as if Cyril W?” ,patience, said the doctor, but yesterâ€" earrying on at least a flirtation With‘dav I was tried beyond endurance; Becca, and Guildford Berton lmexviwgmied by the senseless talk of WO_ how‘Norah would regard such a ppo~ men who make a fad of being. invm ceffimg' ,, t ,lids, and worried still Worse over spokefaiilczodi‘lfbwnyxghcel Mr. Burne ‘the. Page Of a woman Who has been he muttered, vith a siriister smile. smmng at death fm‘.m9nths' JuSt “That little scene with -Becca will’a‘S I thougll't my 0.“:ng 8 work “jas‘ require a great deal of explanation.” Over 8* Suanger mashed on seemg‘ ‘ me. She was young and elegantly But still an explanation might be ‘ . ‘ offered and accepted, and he knit his dressed; and calmed a covele‘d M19th or- her arm. _ brows trying to scheme some way H v H of preventing it. He did not know, .1 waft you to 500 POby'” 9118 as yet, that Cyril was having Sam- said. ’ He has such a. cough. Hero leigh by the early train, and might, She opened the basket and took out be absent for months, or Guildford ‘an ordinary black and white cat. “I Berton's spirits would have risen took off his collar to have it mend- still higher. ‘ ed, and I’m afraid he took cold, He was a little uneasy, too, about .poor dear. Can’t you help him?" his position with Becca. I was angry all through. “I an: Even clever men have-their weak not a cat doctor, madam,” I said. moments, and in one of these weak I was going to ask her why she moments Guildford' Berton. had al- didn't find something better to take lowed himself to be smitten by Rec-ca luv hm- time than a cat, but She CV1- South'S black 03’03- He had begun dcntly didn’t see that I was out of by meeting her secretly and flil‘tlng,paticncc_ with her, and almiostdnsensibly hel “But couldn’t you do Something lhad drifted into pronusmg to marry for him?” she went on. 1:“re'l‘e so ‘01" . . fond of him. 'He was our little .Sbe was pretty and fresh; 'hcr half‘gh-TS pot the very last thing Sh3 w11d, defiant manner had taken hisievm. Spoke about before She diaéfi - u .' . 'i » l fore Now = . . . fancy’ b t some 1“ me )0 l lh'an-d w-e prize it for her sake." had appeared on the scene he had; I . . , _ l_ _ grown tired of Becca, and now she YCS‘, I (hd' trealcdlhat Pat' and I m proud to say I cured him. threatened to be very much in his mum-Wm" (To be Continued.) THE DOCTOR WAS SOFTENED. have put a. yr “7.73 YOU HAVE‘I‘JTYTIHNG T0 9‘- A‘x’, SAY IT TO BOTTLE OF :58: SE IE!"-