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.V...v._.e_m.-u1 i l i l l t l I t t. f. E. i i' £ i r - it :._._-MW§g£o-aiflaÂ¥uxsx: :2... , . < E1. __._. . ________________.__._.____ ‘ gflifi+fi+fi+fi12fi+ifit +§E+l§+§¢€+fi Htii-EH fititét +3§+3¢i+3$tift - Bi, er ‘0 OR, THE CONVICT’S DAUGHTER. ‘fi‘tlfitfiifi mmnm+o+m+m fiffiHtHfiH 3324*33. +312+33t+31£+33£+33t+t CI IAPTER VII. At that precise moment. the Eileen of Duncan Sinclair’s thoughts was looking ()0ny up into a young man's earnest face. She stood at the open window of a room, in a house on the right side of the park, and the clustering sweet-peas looking, more brilliant in their coloring, than her beautiful, sparkling face. "flow st 'ange that you also should he lunchmg here to-day t” she had just said in the sweetest of voices, with that up- Waro glance that. had driven more than one youth mad with love for her. “ “Strange!” ejaculated her companion. Heavenly divine, most Miss Riviercr. pleasure.” “What a tirade 3” she cmlaimed, stretching out her hand and picking a sweet-pea, which sue laid carrssingly against- her check. The flower seemed to pale instantly. Lord St. Aubin smiled. “Even the flowers acknowledge your supremacy i” he murmured. “Against your check that. one grows while. Your complexion is an envy to the women of London.” “Oh, a trace to your flattery, my lord,” replied the girl rnockingly, tossing her (husky tread. “Tell me what you have been doing since we last met.” “And parted wasn’t. it? at four this morning, Such an age agcl But that ball was certainly the nicest of the sea- son. At least, I thought so,” he added with emphasis. “Why?” asked Eileen, plucking the petals ofth-e flower with that most cruel insouciance with which women so offe employ their fingers to hide heir feel- ings. - “Can you ask? Because you were kind to an old friend; be‘ausc your Dunran was not there. That is why, fair queen.” - . “You must not speak like that,” she ex- claimed, reprovingly, though a mischievâ€" ous smile twitched the corners of her full red lips. “You forget that. Dun can Sinclair is my fiance, my future hus- hand." lie drew back with ostentatious hor- ror. "I forget! Never! The memory of that Is with me night and day. Eileen, why were you so cruel as to take him and leave me lnconsolahle ?” She sighed. . “Are you inconsolable‘? You hide it well. And, really, now, such questions are rather out. of place. Duncan is a dear fellow, amt-well, I need not ex- plainfil chose him. \‘oila tout!” “Yes, of course. But. isn’t be rather remiss? Where is he now, in the mid- dle of the gayest season we have had for years? lie should be with you, by your side continually, though pro~ claiming proudly: “This is my future bride. Look at her, ye. jealous males; mark her peerlessnesst She is mine, mine! Ah, how happily would I act that 'olei" “Lord St. you!" “Lord St. Aubinl It used to be Jim, plain .lirn!” be ejaculated sadly. “Well, iii-m then, dear Jim. din't. be so sarcastic. I was saying that. Duncan hates London. so keen on his painting. We under- each other so perfectly. That is why i do not. mind his going; why I am Auliin, I'm surprised at It makes him ill. l-le’s content without his continual presence." “But he? flow can he do it? Those lips. Eileen! How can he. forget them? Little girl, you should not have done it. Even now it is not too late to say: ‘Jim, drar Jim, I love you; I will be yours.’ 'Can you not? Surely no lukewarm lover is worthy of you. I love you; I can give you eternal worship. Eileen, you must see it; you must. be mine. Forget that absurd engagement, my own darl- ingln With a quick glance behind him into the. empty room. he moved nearer to her and put his arm round her shoulders. “Eileen, I alone love you. I alone can make you happy. Come to me!" he murâ€" mured, drawing icr closer to him, his face ablaze with passion. Then. as she began to speak and put out h-cr hands to push him off. be seized her to him and crushed her lips with his i'i one long passionate kiss. She struggled wildly in his embrace, but he was big and strong. more than a match for her. It SuClllCti a year before he released her' and met. her indignant eyes with an exultant smile. “flow dare you!" she gasprd, pulling her hands to her disordered hair. “llave you no respect for me? I will never speak to you again.” He looked humlvlc. ‘slicd from his face. “I love you. Eileen! Can you puniin no for that? I was mad, I know. But I love you. . . . Of course you will speak Have we not been friends for Send for your Duncan. if I may I swear i shall do The smile van- to rue. years"? not speak to you. this again, if not.” “it is foolish of you, and wrong," she said in a low voice. the anger dying out of her face. “And you are too sure of my friendship to stand in awe of me. lift a repetition of this will be the death- blow [0 our intimacy. ternrmber that." “Then 1 am forgiven?" “"‘hir; time, yes. lul suppuee Adele + +335Wfi+ “$433131 i +fiifi+fitfi+fi+fi£fi+fi+mm on the balcony were not more fresh . providential, 1 little expected such a She laughed. The rich color in her cheeks deepened. had come in and been you. What would she have said? She is his sister, and would never fongive me for being disloyal to him, for‘she would blame, me. She would not pause to think that you are as strong asl aâ€"-â€"a vice, and re- sistlass when rousedl’ She blushed as lshe spoke, and glanced at him from under her long curled lashes. The desire to seize her again rose strcng within him, but re- alizing that it would not be so easily overlooked, he restrttined himself, say- ingâ€"â€"â€" “But. why (lid you choose him. Eileen?” She made an impatient movement. “Why? Because I love him. Yes, sir, I love him. That is toy reason.” “I will not believe it. You tell in with a family wish. Yott accepted him for that alone. For you twill love me some day. I do not. despair.” She opened her lips with an expresâ€" sion of dissent, thelhot blood rushing if; her‘ brow; but a voice behind them reâ€" called fhcm both to their senses. Their hostess had appeared; “Forgive me, Eileen, for leaving you so long. I had to interview some troublesome parish worker calling for funds. I knew youleould arouse each other. It’s a pity my loth-cr couple failed me. But you like these informal lunch- eons, and do I.” l Adele Larkin, the wife of Sir Charles Larkin and sister of Duncan Sinclair, was a small fair-haircd women, with a broad, cheerful faceland dancing blue eyes. Most people dubbed her homely, but those who knew her wrllâ€"-lhat is to say, DICI‘CL‘CI beneath llhe outer crustâ€"â€" found her staunch and true, of great. moral strength and unselfish generosity. So hone-st was she herself that she was the last to suspect another of evil doing. She saw nothing butfboundless good in hun'ianily. } ’l‘h-erefore Lord Auhin’s embarrass- r'ncnt and Eiteen’s SitddGn nervousness revealed no guilty motives. Perhaps she ntticed nothing peculiar in either of them, or, if she did, attributed it to her apparent lack of hospitality in leaving them so long alone. } llad she known what had really taken place she would have been horrified. The rumor that. Lordl St. Aubin had for years admired Eileen had certainly reached her, but, since the girl had cho- sen Duncan, her cousin, in accordance with the wishes of the family, she at- tached no in’iportanlej to it, and believed entirely in the integrity of lioifither guests. Lord St. Adhin was a special friend of her husband’s, and often launched with them.: More coincidence had brought. him and Eileen there to- gether. ' Besides, she, knew that Eileen was madly in love with Duncan, whom, It must be confessed,lshe thought. rather a casual lover. l “Have you heard from Duncan, Adele?" asked Eilceii,jsniilirig across the lunch table. at. her. , “Yes; only this morning I had a long letter. lle seems to like the place he is inâ€"St. Lawrence, an outof-lhe-way fishing village. But, of course, you know that. He writes every day, I sup- pose.” .' Eileen blushed. Sit-c wished now that sir1 had not broached the subject. Feel- ing Lord Sf. Auhiu’sikocn eyes on her, slit: armwered nonchalantlyâ€"â€" “Oh, dear not We’re. not. so demon- strative as that, Adele. Once a week I write, and receive my answer. That is all!” “Then you know jnothing about the village he is in, nor that. he has discov- ered Uncle Ralph living about a mile off, in a lonely (wattage, her about Sunbeam, the beautiful. liighlyfeducated girl who is the daughter of common people? She might be a Vere de t’ere, he adds.” The , color ebbcd from Eileen’s face. lord St. Aubin alone noticth that. Sir (Eharlrs was too absent-minded to see anything, and Adele lhad not looked up as she spoke, or perhaps she might have realized that something was amiss. “How strange!" liirirn'itrrerl Eileen, with a poor attempt to smile. Then her eyes met. Jim’s in pro‘ud appeal. lle plunged headlong into a descrip- tion of the latest play of the day. adroii- 1'1 keeping the ball of the conversation on his side of the table. Eileen shot him a grateful look as, a‘ few minutes later, he held the door open for her. But. whilst Adele chatted lightly about. most things pleasing to the feminine mind. Eilcen’s thoughts were with Dun- can, the man she loved. A sudden wild jealousy against Sunbeam, the child of cmnmon parents, l‘who might be a Vere de Vere,” hart sprung up in her heart. For a moment- she felt like a tigress about. to shield her youna. Dun- can was hers No other woman should take him from her. i She had won him after years of patience. She would not give him up. “Eileen,” said Lord St. Aubin, when they were alone again for a few min- utes, “you will come? to me yet. I love yritl! l\'o village prodigy should take me from you!” i "Don‘t!" she moaned, dropping her eyes from his, anxious to hide the agony in them. “I am his.: Village prodigy or not, he is mine.” i The man of the world smiled to him- self. Ile prided himself on knowing Eileen better than she knew herself. In ~23. him better than Duncan, the girl concealed for 'this neglected seemed, and at the last minute her fa- arhst-eousm. ther could not force her into such a‘hate- -â€"- Eileen Riviera was rich. I-Ier cousin ful marriage. Though she did not relv Duncan was the squire of a midland 01 that‘ thought. Good as he had aI- REPORT OF village and the owner of much land. ways been to her she knew that, as pan”; FOR 1996 But his purse was meagre and the place llefty had said, he was “terrible when ‘ ' heavily mortgaged. Eilecn's money was roused.” She was young and in his -â€"â€"- to alter all that, and bring back a‘reign power. He had a right to do with her gr splfimmml szh tlietilliapidated half. as he. wished. She might. refuse to mar- lSlafiSliCS Show That There “'89 3 Ah“ ‘ince ieir cu ' oe< ieir names had ry Dan, but he could still force her to . . , . -' .- been coupled by designing relatives. that. He knew that she would never be-l u'edse at M“ m onenccs hit Duncan. feeling that Eileen did not tray him by making a scene. coran “la grande passion”,in his heart, “Nevertheless I shall have strength.” had studiously avoided her, and only, shr- nnised, as they walked silently along A Vel‘b' SflUSmCtOU‘ 1011mm 0‘ “he re" as the years went by and he met no the steep road leading from the village l‘Ol't for 1900 of the Commissioner 0!? woman that he could prefer to her, did to the town of Olnay, five milés ahead. I‘OliCC for London, England, which \\'8«S= he come .to look upon the proposition “And he loves me still too much to be issued recently, is that there was a de- with willing eyes. lt‘inally, reading the really unkind l” crease in the number of offences corn- 811‘1’5 696114 In hO-I' toll-tale face. and Once her thoughts flew to Duncan ulttcd during the year though curi- concluding that great love was not. for Sinclair. He had promised hclo. if the (“51)- Cnx,u;rh 430 '.~ ’~ .. ~ ~" -. 5 ) 3 _ ‘ H ‘ .7 . . ,3 , penons were sentenc h.m, he proposed, and their engageâ€" worst came to the worm, she could go ml 1..) MCI-m .Sepvmugc .1. 00m area ment was announcd at the beginning of to him and remind him of his promise. “111,571; 1;, 196: ‘ ’ ‘5 p the season. The sea fret deepened as they walked. n t . . 0' . â€"â€"â€"- It hung like a heavy grev pull over land . {he nunnm or persons aprghended‘ CHAPTER VIII. and sea. A thin drizzlinigr rain began to ‘3‘}“93 “Xmas,” year was “9’89? a de' ” ‘ fall. Darkness crept up from the distant (T'eubeflf “420 as 0011mm.“ Wm} the. Put on your hat, Sunbeam, and come mus. The mad seemed (ml-1,0 forsaken [MC-Ceding years. Of these, 3,418 Were with me,» said Bill, rising from his [0,} (To be mmmued) ' convicted at Sessions, 96.335 were con- lahle'and positing his chair back noisily. ' ’victcd by magistrates, 630 were acquit-~ “\Vherc are you going to take her?” ted, bills ignored, etc., all. Sessionsr During Your. .._.... -4... COMMISSIONER b?“ asked his sister. “As it. gets dark the sea fret will get worse. You don’t. know the place enough to run risks in a mist what’s as bad as a London fog at. lirrrcs.” “Bosh! I know my way like a cat. ’Sides, 1 know what I‘m about. Don’t you flurry. Corn Sunbeam, and ’urry up or we shall be late. I‘ve to meet. some one at ’rtf way ’ouse, and you’d be sorry to miss ’im, 1 know.” The smile accompanying his words struck a chill into the girl's heart. as she turned to the door. She knew whom they would meet. Also that in a very short time her father would ask her what she had decided to do, and their equally strong wills would again come into con- tact for the second time that day. A shiver ran through her as she entered I10? little room. If only he would kill her! He had been so good to her hat Sir-t; did not like to thwart him, and yet what else could she do? Ilad not Mr. Sinclair said that one must. defend one’s honor at all costs? With a cry she flung herself on her knees by the bed and prayed for help in the coming struggle. The same fears had assailed her aunt. For in her brother’s face she saw no- thing but obstinate detern'rination, and trembled for the. ehildshc worshipped. She could not. understand Bill's attitude at all. lIad his seven years” iniprison- ment killed the love that had so softened him in the days of old" 'l‘ears rushed to her eyes, but she blinked them back, saying huskin : “You don’t mean to be too hard on her, Bill. W'on’t you give her a. little longer to d-rcide? That eddicaiion she“ had wouldn't fit her for such idt. _. You‘ll be patient, won’t you, ’cos you love her.” Ife frowned. “She must. settle one thing or t’other I want some. return for what to-nighl. I’ve done.” “But you won’t frighten her. will you? You‘ll be patient? I wish you’d let. me Come, ice, I might help her to give in.” “No, I don't want two of you. You’ve had your chance all day. I left. you alone a purpose. That. wlfippcrsnapperl with ’is laugh hein’ ’rrc I couldn’t bring Dan as .far. For all you know this gun- tleman ain’t as hinnoccnt as he looks. We can’t. be too careful. Me an’ Dan meet toâ€"night to fix up plans. If she gives in. she’ll be in them. If she dru'f’t she’ll be frightened enough to make her give in lo-morrowâ€"â€"â€"â€"” “You don’t mean Gentleman Dan to really marry her, then ?” asked the woman, a gleam of hope in her eyes. “That depends,” he replied in a low voice. “I don’t. show all my ’and at once, you bet. You don’t catch me by the tail, I-fetly Green, I can tell you. Now shut up, ’erc she comes. And give over frettin’. I haven't kept her so long to suddenly get. rid of her now she has more value than ever before. If she’d ‘pr we might be millionaires in no time.” Sunbeam came in smiling. She kissed her aunt affectioruttrly and turned to her father, who was watching her thought- fully. “I am quite ready now, daddy,’ she said in her old bright voice, which brought a look of relief to her aunt’s anxious face. “It will- be quite like old times to go for a walk with you.” An expressioi of hesitation flashed across his face. 'l‘hen, turning his eyes from her face, he slouched towards the door, saying over his shoulder: “At any rate, we’ll show these bloom- iu' villagers that you ain’t. ashamed o‘ ycur ticket-o-leave man, eh? And pre- shous few of them can walk alongside such a fine set-up young woman as yer- sclf. You might be a. duchcss if you play your cards right." ‘ She paled slightly. “I don’t want. to be anything but myself. Sunbeam, your little daughter,” she replied, tucking her hand into his. He granted incredulously, but drew himself up nevcrll'ieless with pride. For her sweet words Were honey to him, and, for a moment, an overwhelming feeling of love for her possessed his little soul. IIelty had asked him to be patient with her. Of course he would be. Gentleman Dan was hard to circumvent, but. even if Sunbeam refused to act as accomplice in their plans she would not really nrarry Dan. He would save her from that somehow. In a day or two he could allay her feelings, after the threat had I worked the result he wanted. But the threat would not be required. He felt sure that she had decided to obey. Iler very smile told him so. He little knew that. her reassured man- ner was due to the decision she had made: to the peace that had seemed to come suddenly as she arose from her knees in her little room. For she felt convinced that she had chosen the only right way the world and her own heart could approve. A decision that meant his inner heart- he was sure she loved that her body must suffer to keep her ~ ~' ‘ ura.:"v‘b:~£n., i v.21, I TERRIER A VERSATILE DOG. _.â€" One That “’as Devofpd to Snake Kil- lingâ€"Making Sure of a Fox. Of all our dogs there is none so ver- satile in mind and body as ‘the terrier. There is no service that a dog can do for us in sport or as a companion, says a writer in Blackwood’s Magazine, that he not capable of. I knew one terrier in India who cc- voted herself to the dangerous and ex- citing s‘port of snake killing. ller inc- thod' was ‘to irritate the snake into sit- ting up. She would dance around if, sparring for an Opening, as it were. Then Witt-I]. incredible switlness she dari- cd at the reptile and gripped 'it close behind the headâ€"a sharp bite and the snake was dead. She was marvellously successful until on an unlucky day when one of her puzip'es was with her she found a snake; the puppy got in tier way at the criti- cal moment. and the snake struck Nel- lie on the nose. The wound was slight, it was cauterized at once and a sirtmg dose of whiskey administered. Appar- ently Nettle. was quite well the next morning, but as she was playing with the puppy she suddenly turned head over heels and when we reached her she was dead. , ' A fox once went to ground in a narâ€" row drain; two terriers were running with the pack. The first went '11, and . :nable to get. up to the fox, caughtl hold of the brush, the only point he could reach. I The second ‘tcrricr also went in, but Could not, of f'joursc get far, as his coin- =_nan'ion blocked the way, so he caught hold of the first 'terricr's tail: Then came the whipper in and he studied down, put in his iii-33.3 and feeling the second terrier he caught :hold of hint and pull- ed him out. There was consilerahlc resistance, tut at length, to the :nnusement of the field, the second terrier appeart-d hold- ing tight to the tail of his predecessor. who in. his turn was holding on ‘to the brush of the fox. , If your terrier is to do his best for you in the field he must share your home, or if he lives in a kennel you must he often with him, that my m;- pcrience is that. the '10ng that have been the. best for work have been those that have lived with me day and night. A dog so studies your face that he learns to anticipate your wishes, almost to read your expression. Moreover he picks up a good many uords when he is always in the house and l have generally found that there are some. words which are so thrilling that they have to be spelled out. by ll'lCIllI'K‘i's of the family. The sound of them is too exciting for the small friends under the table or seatcd on their favorite chairs. The terrier that lives in the house. develops a vocabulary of his own and onnllmew well hal three distinct. tones. With one he called his mistress when he was in trouble or wanted help; in another, res'icc'tfully in'fperious. he 11‘ vited a trusted friend to take him out. ylf he wanted the servants he would put hi- head through the barristers of the kitchen staircase and bark sharply and imperiously. Eeach tone was known and recogniz- ed. and I never knew him to d-meive by using one in the place of the others. '- â€"â€"___.â€" ,- I! SMALL CIIIPS. There are women masons in Vienna. In South Africa baboons kill sheep. The English do not much like. tomaâ€" toes. A good $15,000. I.i()ll(l()ll average. dcrs a year. Paris eats 90,000 pounds of snails a day. The racoon washes eatingr it. Saint Jetiseph, No, is the healthiest town in the, world. ' Cannibals do not like civilized iicslr_ it. is too salty. The thumb is stronger than all the other fingers together. pack of bounds is worth but eighteen mur- its for-d, lief-ore and 19,451) were disdharged by magis- trates. DECREASE IN CRIMINAL -l«‘l~‘ENCES. There was a decrease of 1,141 in the number of criminal offences reportett during the year, and a. decrease of l,~ 318 in the number of felonies relating to property. The these offences increased by 4'26 to 505- rcspcclively. The proportion of felon- ics to each 1,000 of the estimated popu- lation was 2,391, and was the lowest recorded during the period for which. statistics ‘are available. Burglaries decreased from 512 to 445 in IIouse breakings decreased from 1.5522 to 1,450, but the number if apprehensions increased by sixty, and the convictions by forty-nine. Violence- ltc the person was used in only three cases of burglary and one house-breaking. Of these offences, 713. were committed in houses left with no person in charge. SIEVENTEEN CASES OF MURDER. There were. seventeen cases of inurâ€" der of persons over “one year of age during filth“). In only two cases were u! arrest; made. In the case of the “Stiulio Mystery,” where Archibald fv'akley, a young artist, was brutally murdered, the report says that after prolonged enquiry evidence to justify an arrest. was not forthcoming. The. other unsolved mystery was. the death cf :1 vmman in the Edmonton Infirmary aflcr' a-i illegal operation. . The “finger lT-f‘il’lis” system continued to give unqual'lied satisfaction, not only in the United Kingdom, but also, it 13 said. in all other countries where in- fz-oduccd. Identifications still show an upward trend, although signs are not wanting that high-water mark has al- most hen reached. At Scotland Yard, 'fiL’F’Ffi identifications were affrritrd km the year (as against 6,186 in. 190.3). Of these, 2,982 were for the metropolitan pt’lice and 3,704 for provincial forces. V 54 ’I‘OMVHOOD’S OLD HOME. The Old House. at W‘an’stend Has Falâ€" len on Evil Days. The disappearance of the house in which 'J‘om flood lived at Wanstead, one of the most picturesque of country dwellings, is now only a matter of days. The building lies in the midst. of :harming surroundings. The approach to it from the nearest station, Snares brook, lies through the wellâ€"Wooded commons peculiar to Essex, and the house itself lies back, nestling in a garden of aims and planes and varic- galed hollirs. The. design of the gar- den is quaint and old fasl'iioned. A broad carriage road divides on either side of a circular flower bed, and ad'- niits one to the main entrance, :1 low wooden door. To the right of the main block of the building are outltousm with dmrs lower than the level of the ground, which at one time served as kennels, while to the left is a. crmservatory, still. tenanled, by a few half-forgotten plants. The house has an air of deso- lotion and of gloom. in‘recent times it has been used as a meeting place for local clubs, and over the. door is an untidy notice advertising refresh- ments. All the old paintings and the fine carved mantlepieccs have been long removed. The oak flows are soiled and grained with dirt, and the light woâ€"z‘sd boarding which replaced the. grand old mantles adds to the .n'lelancholy and sadness of the ‘iiuild~ ing. Sprigs. of ivy are growing through the chinks and crannies rt the walls. The evil days on which the house has fallen are typical of floods later life and of his sad story. Time tool? from him all that he held dear, and the inspired writer of “The lh’idgc of Sighs.“ “Eugene Arum,” and many ,‘n’iolhcr masterpicCe was left to mourn the lus< of frimids, of children, and of health. lit-fore death came to him as a merciful rcl'ir-f to The closing years of his life. saw some of his finest \Wfrk â€"-i‘in’: “Song of the ' l i. ' '1 'ivcrare live seven .. .. . . . n“ “I” ’3“ ‘n ‘ {a ’ Hurt,“ with its sad refrain years longer than the fat. Kite. day. a Chinese. national holiday. occurred last month. An ny‘ert Chinese kite flyer will easily keep six or eight kites- going on one string. *V--â€"M \Vorkl ‘\‘\'orkt Win-k! , ,\\’lfilu the cock is crowir'fg aloof! And \\'-(Jl'I{â€"~\\'r-Jl'l{â€"â€"-\V'iI‘Ii. Till the stars shiuc tin-«nigh the roof] it‘s 0! to to a slave When a man gets religion he has {0 Along with the lrirbarous Turk. gr. to work and build up a new reputa- tion. \‘v'hi-rc wmnan has never a soul ti sax/H: if to“: in a Christian Work! apprehensions for' case r f“ end his sufferings.’ doubled what a fount of pOSSISIII]t:1IC]I1<lll\iI'g ifi-fifiafilé ILntgg; tergfhlgetrligrri‘gIPIig I I. v