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CHAPTER XIX. There is no greater fiction than that for time to go quickly implies that it must needs go pleasantly. Jim has sel~ dom spent a more disagreeable period lthan the hours which follow his con- versation with Byng, and which he passes in his bedroom, with his elbows an the window-ledge, looking blankly out at the Piazza, and at the great “Bride” of Aronolpho's planning, the church of Santa Maria Novella. And yet, when the city clocks, which have chimed unnoticed by hinl several times, at length convey to his inattentive ear .what the hour is, he starts up, shocked and confused at its lateness. He had ~mea.nt to have reached the Villa Schia- vone in time to receive Amelia, and now she must have long preceded him, and be attributing his tardiness to some fresh neglect and indifference. In five minutes he has rearranged his dress, and jumped into a flacre. Through the Perla Romano, and up between the straight row of still and inky cypresses, 'up and up to where the villa door, pro- mising so little and performing so much. opens1 __s so many do, straight upon the road. ‘ The day has changed its ravishing blue gaiety. for a pensive cloudy gloom, and theguesls at the villa are walking about without. any sunshades. They are numerous,.lhough few indeed in, comparison to the Banksia roses on the laden wall, over which, too, a great wistariaeâ€"put in, as the host with a just pride relates, only last yearâ€"is hanging and flinging its lilac bundance. And seen above its clusters, and above the wall, what a- view from this raised ter- race! Jim is really in a hurry to find Amelia, and yet he cannot choose but stop to look at itâ€"from Galileo’s tower on the right, to where, far down the plain of the Arno, Carrara loses itself in mist. It is all dark at first, sullen, purple-gray, without variation or stirâ€"â€" city, Duomo Arno, Fiesole. and all her I li'ibly 011i. Woe0+oec~é~ o-eoeoe oeceo etaâ€"c eons - oeo-toéeeoeoeceq » vith you? Do you where she is?" . Byng stops short in his leisurely pac- ing. “Why,.wllere is she?” he says, look- happen to; know ing round, as his mother had done, but- l l l l l “She was how Where can she have with ‘a more guilty air. five minutes ago. disappeared to?” It is but too obvious that in greeting and being greeted by their numerous alc- quaintances, both poor Alli-elia’s chaper- on and that choperon‘s son have comâ€" pletely forgotten her existence. Always nervously afraid'of being burdensome. Jim feels convinced from what he knows of her character that she is going about in unobtrusive forlornness, the extreme smallness of her Florentine acquaint- ances making it unlikely that she has found any one to supply the place of the friends who have become so entirely oblivious of her. The conviction, prick~ ing his conscience as he hastens con- lrilely away from the vainly repentant- Bying, lends speed and kcenness to his search. But thorough and earnest as it is, it is for some time quite unsuccess- ful. She makes one of no group, she loiters under no Banksia rose-bower, she is no gazer from the terrace at gold- mislcd valley or aurcoled town, she is to be found neither in hidden nook nor evident path. She is not beneath the Loggia, she is nowhere out of doors. She must then, in her loneliness, have taken refuge in the house. lie finds himself in a long, noble room, with a trescoed ceiling, a room full of signs of recent. habitation and recent tea, but which has apparently been deserted for the sunset splendors on the terrace. He can see no single occupant. Ile walks slowly down it to assure himself of the fact of its entire emptiness. By a singular and unaccountable freak of the builders,' the windows are set .~o‘ high in the wall that each has had to have a little raised dias erected before it to enable the inmates to look comfor- Upon each small platform chain of sister-hilisâ€"â€"one universal frown islands achalx' 01" two, and low over them over every slope and jag, over street and l the curtains sweepi As 'he passes one spire, over Campanil with its marbles, recess. he notices that the drapery is and Santa Croce with its dead. now, as it draws on towards Sim-setting, in the western sky. there comes a be- ginning of light, a faint pale tint at first, but quickly broadening across the firma~ ‘ ment, while the whole huge cloud ca- nopy is drawn aside like a curtain, and, a great bright eye from under bent brows, the lowering sun sends arrows of radiance over palm, and river, and city. All of a sudden there is a verti~ But Stirring a little, and examining more closely, sees the tail of a well-known gownâ€"of. that gown which has met with his near-est approach to approval among Amelia’s rather scanty stockâ€"â€" peeping from beneath the stiff rich folds of the old Italian brocade. It is the work of a second to sweep the latter aside. and discover his poor fiancee all alone, and crouching desolater in ‘l. tow arm-chair. There is something so cal. rain of dazzling white rays on the unmfe her in the “Wilda. something plain’ and the olive shadows, merged so different from her usual uncomplain- all the afternoon in the universal gray, mg, llnpl‘elending fall long and soft upon the blinding green of the young corn. gotten Amelia. . fortitude, something so disproportioned to the causeâ€"his own He has for- careless but not criminal delay. as be Oh? that. that other, supposes-in the despair evidenced by that creature herself made out of sun- her_“"h018 DOSC- that he feels at once rays and. sweet raindrops, were beside terrified and angry. In a second he too, him, her pulses beating, as they solllas stepped up on the little platform surely would, to ills tune, her whole bBSide ller. tender being quivering with delicate joy at this heavenly spectacle. Some one touches him on the shout- der, and he starts violently. Has the intensity,ot his invocation called her spirit out of her light body, and is she indeed beside him?" "What a bad conscience you must have. Did you think that. 't was a bat- liff?" cries Mrs. Bying, laughingly. “Where is Amelia?” he asks, rather curtly, the memory of Byng’s commu- nication about his mother being too fresh in his mind to make it possible lying key. “What have you done with Amelia?" “What a ‘Stand-andâ€"delivcr’ tone.” says she, laughil'lg still, but looking not unnaturally surprised. “Well, where is she?” glancing round. “.s‘he was here five minutes ago with Willie. Poor Amelia!” lowering her voice to a more confidential key. “i am so glad 3’0” sa “Amelia!” he cries. “Amelia! What are you doing up here?" Wilh whom are you playing hide and sock?” - Her words and her smiles are apt to . . tbll‘illlgc‘ and mean a I. Ilo has -graspcl .bflh. lwr whose.lntnsltul'ul l:»;lll'llrr-~;s lze fools even hands. thing is human nature that even at this moment it flash- cs across'bim. with a sense of annoy; uncc. what bull gloves .llllella always v. ears. Ilmvcvcr. he "is not troubled with lhcnl_lol‘lg, for she takes them and Ilc'r‘rol'd hiatus quietly back. “I will tell you,. there is no question of insisting. I should have told you any- lllmv; bllt not llcrc"â€"gluncing nervously round the (Iroppcd rill-taillsâ€"~“llot now!” _“\\7h_v not lie-e? Why not now?” Her face quivers. “I Could not.” she says pileously. “I do not, quite, know how I shall get through telling it; it must be somewhere â€"somcwhere where it will not. n'lattcr if I do break downf” Ilc stares at her ill on unfcignod be- wildenncnt, again slightly streaked with wrath. ‘ “Have you. gone mad, Amelia? or arc you taking a leaf oul of Sybilla’s book? l.‘ you do not clear up this extraordin- ary mystification at once, I shall be com- pelled to believe either the one or the other.” Again her face contracts with pain. “011, if it were only a nlystiticationl” she says. with a low cry. “I cannot tell you here; it is physically impossi- ble to me. int do not be afraid”â€" with an accent- of bitterness. which he is quite at a loss to account. forâ€"“you shall not have long to wait; I will tell you, without fail, toâ€"morrow; 10171101" row morning, it you like. Come as early as you please, I shall be ready to tell you; and now would you'mlnd leaving me? I want to have a few moments to myselfgbefore I see anybodyâ€"â€"bcforc I see Mrs. Byng; will you please leave me?” .1' It is‘s‘o ,apparent that she is in dead- ly earnest, and resolute to have her reâ€" quest complied with, that he can do no thing but step dizzily down off the little dais, feeling as if the world were turn- ing round with him. "A quarter of an hour later he sees her leaving the party with Mrs. Byng, look- ing as simple, as collected, and not very pcrccptibly paler than usual. (To be Continued.) -_.% _ _ fl . “ BRITISH ARMY REFORM. The War Minister Announces Plan of Reorganization. Mr. Haldane, speaking to a Glasgow audience, recently, said plans had been perfected by the Government by which the regular army would be organized. the plans were fal"-rcaclling. Instead of one army corps, and another of small divisions, some of them rather ragged, they had organized regular troops according to .tllis new scheme. which had been worked out by ihc'Gcn- oral Staff, and by the highest military authorities, into six great divisions of three brigades each, with four brigades of cavalry. That was the organization of the home army for the future. As part of the scheme. they had assigned artillery to these divisions. If they dill not find, for the moment. cavalry assigned to Scotland, that was not because Scotland would not have cavalry, bllt because he had not yet got bar‘acks into which cavalry could be filly lodged. But he could lodge something else. They were taking the batteries of artillery that. were surplus to the relplircnlcnts of the fighting bal- tcries~llmt was to say, between thier and forty ball.eries-â€"â€"'.lnd they were forni- ing these into training schools or bri- gades. consisting each of three batter- ies, and they'- wcre going to bring these surplus batteries into various parts of the country to form training schools in order to train more artillery men for the service of the fighting line, for the fight- ing batteries. Two of these training be prompt enough Heaven knows, [Olbl'igades were coming to Scotland, one spring out, answering his least hint; but now she neither speaks nor moves to Glasgow, and one to Edinburgh. He hoped now there would. therefore. be a a muscle Of her face. She Rummy Sums kccner artillery spirit amongst the peo- at all at. his sudden apparition and ad- Ple- , , I comes across her-fl period of thinking, but it had also dress, and no light feat,uresâ€"~tllose features which, now that he looks at them more closely, he sees to be set in a much more pinched pallor than even three watching nights The last twelve months had been been a period of action. -.___._._,x‘__._._ COPPER “AND AS STEEL. _. , and a week of airless worr ' can account * '~ ’ ' - .. . . for him lo answer her m her own mm for. .l (bl. Loms youth DISLOHJ‘S .i Long~Lost “Are you ill?" “No; I am not ill.” ! Art. John Berlien. the Louis youth who The sting of irritation which. mixed announced last week that he llzul dis- with genuine alarm, had besieged Jim's Cm’lfl‘f’d “19 590101 till fellfpcl‘lnt-l COMM-’1' mind on his first realizing her crouch- ed and unnatural attitude, now entire- ly supersedes any other feeling. Is the accidental delay of half an hour, an hour have come at last; Slit”: i5 Patience Pcr' f‘) justify such a parade of anguish as sonified. I must congratulate you upon the excellent training into which you have got her, but I think that._she _was beginning to look a little anxious.’ “And I think ihal you have been giv- ing the reins to your imagination, us There is another delightful garden at the back of'lhe villa. and there, having failed to find her in the first, he now, with growing irritation» at her for not being more immediately seeks Amelia. It is a sheltered leisure- ly paradise, where white rose-trees, with . . millions of bursting buds. are careerâ€"lior being late? me; over the walls in leafy luxuriance, fallen! where double wall-lklwcrsâ€"bloody war- riors, one should call them, if one could at scented row are flowering as we Bl-itains ucv-u‘ see them flower ill our chul'y isle. save in the plates of a Gardeners’ Chronicle. But among them he finds no trace of his homely English blossom. lle finds, in“ deed, him who llLlLl been named as her late companion. Byug. bill it is not with Amelia, but with one of the pretty young daughters of the house that he is pac- ing the straight walk in lively dialogue. Jim accosts his formally: "I understood that Miss Wlbon was i l of In conspicuous, inaturul one, to the humble and unex- iacting one which is habitual to her. I l I this? “Is it poss'blc,” he ilu'plil-es. in a lone t'cing accidentally late? I do not romgllizc you; I am very sorry tllal I was late, and that l have made you angry.” 'I‘he chill reproach of his words sccms l I l There is such a mock uphraiding. in tic-l" l “Angry!” she rep-cats: “angry willlyou! In all those have I been angry with you?” There is such a lncck upruidillg in her “Then what is it?" he cries brusquely: “what is it all about? I think I have a right. to ask you that: since I saw youl “1,, last Something must. have happened to you to produce this extraordinary change." Slic- llcavcs a lung dragging sigh. “Something has llllpptflfld to me; yes, something,r has lulpponodl” “But wllat-â€"â€"\vllut kind of a something? 01h .VOU “1'0 (JUNO “ll-5'! a job in New Zealand. years how oftcnmmh. . | l I l out merchants or i '1'; the hardness of steel has suddenly found himself famous. Investment com- panies, hardware dealers and capitalists all over the country have wired fillll,~ y even and hour and a half, enough I Offel'll'l‘s' bit! 3”“15 [01’ “1‘? 58(3le- llcrlien says he has refused to nego- tiate with any of them, biz-cause he hopes l to get the $l(lfl,0f)f) that he has been told . cold displeasure, “pm 1 am 10 [Hummus been offered by the (Liovcrnl‘llent to “a missing 5mm 01- Ihjnggmio myyihe first man who could harden cop-, It was a more! 13013 ' :accidel'lt; it. is not like you lo make a usual,” replies be, walking off in a hull. lsccne. Scientists have tried long to discover ;the process for hardening copper. 0w~ ing to the fact. lllllf it will not rust, it would make ideal tools and also armor plates for battleships. v D‘I"“‘~"‘_"" \\'Olll{ IN NEW ZISALAND. It. is said that. nobody is ever out of There is on club- fiovcl'nlllenl (lflplll'lllll'flll, which keeps a record of all who lose employ- . . . . . . . . . .ll'lellt and hot 13 them to 'msilions. Ull- eonnmt any “HI-511(61an mm this mien g tone that his ill-humor gives way to at ’ I I I ' pieaceâ€"-stocks in ‘ Migrant IV'clgu-e apprehension. vancillg railway fill-c to take them lo lpinccs where help is wanted, seeking nl'auul'oolllrcrs who want. men. and as a last resort giving unemployed some ocuupalion on Government. operations. __,...,c.__ v _._ ..._.._-.. ’A HIS GIJCIILVIZSS. Ullc-lcâ€"â€"“\-\‘Zult lllllfile you look so un‘ happy, 'l‘oulllrvf“ 'l cl'l'nl‘lyâ€"--“ ’I louse nobody culls GYCI‘ have a right to knowâ€"l insist upon me good unless. l'n'l doing something I F knowing; tell me!" I don't want to do." through her I‘ttllll'l' ill~litting gloves. Sc“! I pity any man who attcllipts to rats. winter lambs without plenty of succu lent food, such as silage or mots <. some kind, or better yet, both, write.- .-\Ir. J. I WINTER LAMB FEEDING;"‘ I S. \V'oodward. As soon as,tlu Ianlb is able to take his rutions' l'cgu lurly, the ewe should have an incrcast of lnilk-ln‘oducing food. Nothing is hot» ler than silage and roots, together 'wilh clover or alfalfa buy for rough- age, and wheat bran, oil meal and a little corn for grain. She should havc enough of those, so as not. to fall away in flesh,- and unless good enough to carry over for another year’s use should have enough corn added to enable her to make 20 or more pounds of gain be sides feeding the lamb. ' May is fed to the ewes at 6 o’clock in the u'lorning, grain at 8 o’clock and sil- age or roots~at 10 o‘clock. At noon have the feeding racks fill-ed with good. bright wheat, oats or barley straw aru. let them pick what they like, the bal- ance to be thrown out to litter the pens. If. is a fact that .the higher they are grained the more straw they will eat. Al. 3 pan. feed grain and again at 5 o‘clock feed silage or roots and follow by filling the racks with buy. From the way the sheep attack the feed in the morning I have sometimes thought it would pay to feed during the night. Whatever the time and rotation adopt- cd for feeding, it is very important that the strictest regularity be observed. Not only should they be fed at the same hour each day, but each pen should be fed ill the same order. If not, the shep- herd will be reminded of his irregularâ€" ity by a concerted bloating nearly deafen him. The object of feeding the lambs is to hurry them along so as to get them to .a marketable size and condition as quickly as possible, for the younger the lamb can be sent to the shambles the more profit. Twin. lambs are not, as. a rule, desirable, especially early in the season. As a rule, one lamb will be all the ewe can properly feed and when old enough for shipment, will be much plumper and make more profit than would two. For the first few weeks, it. will pay to select the best one and kill the other. However, a few of the host. may be saved, so that should a lamb happen to be lost. one may be put upon the lamblcss ewe. Later, if the shepherd wants to make the most money out of his business and is willing to give the extra care, be may save'bolh lambs, if good ones. As such as the first lambs have been taken from the ewe, the twins may be sep- arated, putting one on u eve from which a lamb has been sold. This lamb will 'be raised and fitted for the market as quickly as was the first one. strange lambs sometimes with much difficulty. A stubborn ewe can uSually be brougl*1l_into submission by being so confined that the lamb can help itself a' will. For this purpose use a crate or hurdle, without aboltom or top. In one end have a hole just large enough for the ewe’s head to pass. Fasten so she cannot drive the lamb away. Each Iside is left Open so that the lamb can readily get at the teats on both sides. :\\7ith a little assistance for a few days, lif very young, or a few times, if older, it. will be competent to help itself when the ewe' is confined. They should be placed in a small in- closure and the ewe released at night. It will be a rare case if the ewe does not take kindly to the lamb in two Or three days. At about two weeks old, the lamb will be able to eat and digest more food than is furnished by the mo- lther and it should be induced to eat all fit can digest. First of all. it will pick out and eat bright clover heads and leaves, or the leaves of well-cured alfalfa. As soon as one liegil'ls to eat, the others will very quickly learn. that will Ewes own FEEDING GRAIN TO COWS ON GRASS Several cxperhncnls have been con- ducted to test. the advantage of feeding grain thus. The conclusions reached 'wcre, ll‘lal the grain led when grass was plentiful and while it was yet succulent, (lid not bring any profit. over and straw the cost of the groin. In some instances, as when grain was [le ill large quan- tities, it was said that the increase in {milk and butter fat dill not pay for the least of tile grain. The conclusion has lgone extensively abroad. lherrforc. that. it does not pay to feed cows grain or Intent on gross. when the supply of the .grass is abundant. l I on: not. prepared to accept such :1 iview, says I’l'ol'. ’I'llomus Show. It st-clns to me it is a conclusion reached ‘W‘ltllulll- considering every phase of the question. If the illcl‘mlscd return in .lnilk or butter fut pays for the cost "f lthe grain. and no more. my contention lis, that. in the cud. feeding ls attend- Icll with profit. f If the grain is thus paid for. one item lof profit is found in the pasture saved. yll is only rousol‘lulllr- lo stiill‘lt'm't’ that for every pound of dry nuillor consumed in the grain. an equal amount of dry [matter will rcn‘mill uncuuslunml ill the pasture. This would l’ncun that the cur- rying power of :1 posture is incl-cased lo the extent of the saving effected by feeding grain. l A second item of profit Will probably 'lle found in what is bu-mcd the test- dual effect of the grain funding. This has been brought out. by Prof. l'lobel-ls at Cornell. Six cows were sl‘llcvlcd thle had been. given a liberal allowance of grain on pasture the previous season. and six were also selected that had been grazed ill the same field, but without / .ui grain. ng summer produced Illlll till} other lot: of in milk, also, made a letter develop: ncnt than the boilers. in the other. This .:csult. is in accord with the. view of .llilll)‘ practical men on this question. A tlnrd llfllll‘cwof from the fertilizer obtained from the ,‘rain. \\’hcre wheat, bran and cotton- <.ed meal were full. the advantage would 1e Considerable from this, source. Put- ting lt-l‘lcse three items together, that: should represent a satisfactory profit. 'l\'Gll when the increase in milk pro~ lluction and bultcrfat did‘not more than pay the cost of the grain. '- €4â€" ANTI-SL'ICIDE BUREAU NEEDED. People of Austrian Capital Have a Ten~ dcncy to Sclf~Destruclion. In Vienna, the seemingly gayest of cities, on antiâ€"suicide bureau, such as. has bcen established in London, is bad- ly needed. The year’s record of self- l'nurdcrs shows that Vienna stfll retains nor had preeminence alnong European. capitals in respect to the percentage or... her population who voluntarily cut short their lives. The figures for 1906, just published, show that 425 persons committed sol-- cidc, while another 707 tried to do it... but failed. The figures reveal some curi- ous anomalies which nlllst sorely p112»â€" zlc psychologists. More suicides take.“ place in summer than in winter. In. the month of May when all nature was proclaiming the joy of living, 48‘ per- sons decided that death was preferable- -anld terminated their existence. In- drearer November, when the birds had. ceased singing and bleak winds waited. mournfully through the leafless treesr only 28 persons yielded to the convic~ 'tion that life was not worth living. The motives assigned for suicide also- disclose some perplexing problems. For instance, only 31 persons committed: suicide because of poverty, while two more shuffled off this mortal coil be~ cause life had dealt loo generously with- tthem. and they had become satisfied- with it. I there. is neiihe other world where marriage nor giving in marriage. The oldest victim was a man of 87; the. youngest a little girl of eight. What dire tragedy of to take the leap in the dark does not. ‘appefll‘; _ fact awakens a feeling of infinite pity. Poor little mite! May her soul rest in. peace. The men greatly outnumbered the- women, which can hardly be regarded- as proof of the superiority of the male sex. There were 3'13 of them who took. their own lives in the last twelve- months and of women, ‘113â€"4ittle more- than a third as many. In the n'lethods chosen for making their exits, Iner showed a. much greater partlality for bullets than did women. Only twelve of the latter shot themselves while 118- =mcn chose that way of ridding themf selves of the burden of life. Despairing won'lal'lhood displayed the greater pref: erence for poison. l'l‘hirly-twe women swallowed fatal droughts. ‘l‘wentw leight women selected the most ghastly? form of suicideâ€"throwing themselvetb from top-story windows. -~â€"arâ€"â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"-â€". TO 'ron'rono 0R DEATH. -Russlan Rehlgccs Sent Back to Their Enemies. The London Chronicle tells of an arc- ceedingly painful scene which recently marked the sitting of the Grimsby Im~ migration Board an aggravated case a! many that make a commentary on the» conditions of life in Russia. One family of Russian fugitives were Jews, named Shitzk-a cabinet maker, his wife, a son of ten and two daugh- tersâ€"who came from the province of Minsk, and wished to join a son and: brother in Glasgow. But. the malice! officer found them all to. be in a pith ably debilitated condition. The man had bronchitis and general weakness: the boy was minus one eye and suffered from‘ trachoma, and one daughter was also afflicted with trav- ciloma. Just before being asked to retiredbe father fell down and clasped Dr. Grange, secretary to the board, around the legs and begged pileously to be allowed to stay. crying out that. to send him back to Russia would be to send him to torâ€" ture or death. The children added their cries and fears In those of their» unhappy patents. Observers of the scone were visibly affected. Questions drew from the man an ad~ ‘mission that revolutionary meetings had; been held at his house in Minsk. His. lhonlc, he said. had been ruined in com .scqucnce, and his life was now at 'slakc. When the family’s plantings had been- !sllllcd the court. considered the pathetic, ‘u difficult, problcl'n before it. Then Mr. Smilll, the stipendiary .\=Iagistrate, who presided. announced that. although the case had many sad features, they felt there was no alternative but to reâ€" fuse the family leave to land. "the- man‘s health was extremely bad, and will: twrl children afflicted as those twere it should be unsafe to admit them- When thence/s was interpreted the whole family broke down, the man de~ claring that all were doomed. l ‘_..-...___..,x._.._..__.... I ON WORK. 1 Some men work for honor, Some men work for fame; But they take the money y . M- " l slain. All v.’cr~.'~ put ll‘ponvjr-aslllh The lot grained 'lllc l‘f‘ecbt‘l» .. tG‘ZS more The heifers in this profit .would arise " Sickness was the motive alleg- 9 ed in 100 cases, while love affairs gone-_ . wrong drove 6?. to destruction, and dis-gr .mestic strife impelled 23 to flee to {the V. childhood caused her but the bare mention of the- -»Asy r