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“.v'_VV_VVv_V â€" W mum . - mm w minâ€"Wrwww.kwmr-rmrn~u .W . mu...“ ._.........._- $m+mn+u+mwmu+n+mn+n+n+n+mmntn+n A Huusc 0i Ill/8161‘?- m-â€"â€" OR, THE GIRL. IN BLUE mammmn mmmmmmwmm 35 '+33£+§$£ +3zs+mn+ nmmmme magmas+n+n+n+n+nm+n+ CHAPTER XXIV.â€"â€"(C-ont’ 01) At length, at Blackfriars Bridge, I retraced my steps, and some twen- ty minutes later, as I took my key - . ; from the hotel bureau, the clerk,cailfliezsgggga,you from d hsénded me a note, addressed tolscription a; I answered .tgoull. fi‘ urton Lawrence, Esquire, thellau h ’ W1 3‘ 1g t fictitiousiname I had given. .It had‘ “if descr' t- ,n been delivered by boy-meSSenger. a ton); of digit??? 31:3: Theanas discovered! My heart “Yes, the description given 09 leapt into my mouth. _ you by the cabman who drov I to” open the envelope and read | home on that memorable morniengil’? 1ts contents. They were brief and «Ah! Of course’n she ejaculated to the point. - 1 dine win be 01mg- :rs?transcends; is: 0 ' “3 mn’ 1f M1" Burton Law‘ lence. It seenied as though the fact rence will be present this evening _ . at eight o’clock, in the main-line 23,1353cgifiulsifiofirgfed her had someâ€" bc-okin -ofl‘ice of the Bri hton Rail- ,, ‘ g g But I am extremely glad that way, at Victoria Station. An in- _, h ,, tervmw IS of very Dressing import_ we ave met. at last... I assured her. I have, times Without number, ance.” - > The note was signed by that Single hoped to have the opportunity of ithanking you for the great services word which had always possessed such mysterious signification, the you once rendered me-H ’ word “AWL” “I find with satisfaction that alâ€" Hitherto, in my old life long ago, . though Six years haVe 30110 by you receipt of communications from that l lmVe 11013 fOI‘gOtteh your Promise mysterious correspondent had caus- made 170 me,” She said, hel‘ large ed me much anxiety of mind. I 59110115 eyes fixed upon mine. had always feared their advent; “I gave you that promise in ex- pow, however, I actually welcomed change for my life,” I remarked as it. even though it were strange at her suggestion, we turned and and unaccountable that the un- walked out of the station. known writer should know my HAnd as p . acknowledgment of the whereabouts and the name beneath service you rendered by preserving which I had sought to conceal my secret your knowledge of theevents identihY- of that terrible ni . ‘ . - , ght I was enabled I made a haSty dmnel “1 the COE‘ to render you a small service in fee-room and went forthwith to ,.,_t n . u ‘ . Victoria,’wondei'ing whom I should Stun.” She said); Youl Slght was meet The last time I had kept losmled to you' ' ‘J (l ‘ 3 one of those strange appointmentsl ' F01 that” 1,1,0“, can summent' on that summer evening long agolly thank you? I excmlmed- “I in Hyde Park, I had come face to Owe It all to you> and rest assured that, although we have not met un- face with the woman I loved.( . . . Would that I could meet her now! t” thls evenmg) I have never £01" gottenâ€"nor shall I ever forget.” I entered the booking-office, . searching it with eager eyes. Two She smlled Pleasantly, While I lines of persons were taking tickets Sll'Olled.SlOVVly at her side across at the pigeonâ€"holes, while a number . the Shanon-yard of loungers were, like myself,I To me those moments were like awaiting friends. Beyond, upon thea drehm- Edna, I"he WOman who platform, all was bustle, as is usuâ€" had hltherto been a strange ghost al at that hour, when the belated 0.5 the. past, was now actually be- portion of business London is bound Side me In the flesh. for the southern suburbs. From “I have received other notes-mak- thah busy hermihusfif l‘Ihe W681": ing appointmentsâ€"the last, I think, End-trains were arrivmg and d6- a couple of years ago,” I Observed PaY-‘hmg each moment. after a pause. “Did you not meet The big illumined clock showed me then 2” that it was yet five minutes to the She glanced at me with a puzzled hour. Therefore I strolled out up- cxpression.- Of course she knew no- on the platform, lounged around thingof those lost years of my life. the bookstalls, and presently re- “Meet you?” she repeated.~-“Cer- turned to the spot indicated in the tainly not.” ' letter. “Who met me, then '2” As I re-entered the bookingâ€"office “I really don’t know,’ my eager eyes fell upon a figure swered. standing before meâ€"a well-dressed figure, with a face that smiled upon me. An involuntary cry of surprise escaped my lips. The encounter was sudden and astounding; but in that instant, as I rushed forward to greet the newcomer, I knew myself to be on the verge of a startling and remarkable discovery. though suspicious. “How did you know that “.1” she inquired. “You lhave never seen 'me before. You were totally blind on the last 0c~ echoed in ’ she. an- “This is the first time I come to you now in order to ask you to grant me a favorâ€"a very great favor.” I “A favor! What is it?” “I cannot explain here, in the street,” she said, quickly. “If you will come to my hotel I will place the facts before you.” “Where are you staying _“At the Bath Hotel, in Arling- ton Street.” I knew the place well. 2,) I n It stood at the corner of Arlington Street The encounter and Picadilly, and was an eminent- one. ly respectable, old-fashioned place, CHAPTER XXV. I At the moment, when my eyes'first \pationized by a highâ€"class clientele. was a startling fell upon the figure standing pati- “And You are alone 2” I inquil“ ently in the bookingâ€"ofiice await- 0d~ thinking it Strange that She ing Inc, I halted for a, Second in unâ€" ShOUlCl thus ask me to her hotel. certainty. The silhouette before “Of COUI‘SB- I have come to Lon- me was that of a youngish, brown- don eXPI‘GSSlY to See YOU,” She l‘e- haired, and rather goodâ€"looking SPOMled- “1 Went down to Bud- woman, neatly dressed in dead laigh‘Sthel‘tOTl two days 3&0, but I black, wearing a large hat and a ascertained at Denhllry feather boa round her neck. had left suddenly.” By the expression of her face I “Whom cl'd you see there?” I inâ€" saw that she had recognized me. I quired, much interested. had, of course, never seen her be- “Your butler. He told me some fore, yet her personal appearance absurd story how that you had be- ...the grey eyes and brown hairâ€"- come temporarily irresponsible for Were exactly similar to those de- your actions. and had disappeared scribed so minutely on several 00- leaving no address.” 2- , casions by West, the cab-driver. I “And you came to London?” regarded her for a, moment in si- “Of course.” lent wonder, then advanced to meet “And how did you find out where her. , l was hidden, She was none other than the un- name?” _ known woman who had saved my She smiled mysterimmy. life on that fateful night at The “It was easy enough, I assure Boltonsâ€"the mysterious Edna! you. A man of your influence in As I raised my hat she bowed the City, well known as you are. gracefully, and with a merry smile, has considerable difficulty in effec- that you and my assumed saidâ€" tively concealing his identity.” r . , . .' _ I foal that, to _you, I am a ‘ But who told you where I was stranger. I recognize you, how- staying?” I demanded. ever. as Mr. Heaton." “That is certainly my name,” I. responded. still puzzled. “And I y0uâ€"â€"well, our recognition is, I be- lieve mutualâ€"you are Edna.” She glanced at me “Nobody. self.” “And yet the police have been searching for me evervwherc, and . ' have not yet discovered me!” I re- qlll'Ckly, as marked. surprised. I discovered it for my- have approached you, and I only. “The police have one method,” she said. “I have an entirely dif- ferent one.” . “Tell me one thing,” I said, halt- ing in our walk, for we were al- ready at the commencement of Vic- toria Streetâ€"that street down which I. had wandered blindly on that night long ago when I had lost myâ€" selfâ€":“tell me for what reason those preVious appointments were made With me at Grosvenor Gate, at King’s Cross, at Eastbourne, and elsewhere?” “You kept them,” she replied. “You surely know.” “No, that’s just it,” I said. “Of course, I don’t expect you to give credence to what I sayâ€"it sounds too absurdâ€"but I have absolutely no knowledge of keeping those ap- pointments except the one at Gros- vcnor Gate, and I am totally ignor- ant of having met anybody.” She paused, looking me full in the face with those grey eyes so full of my stery. “I begin to think that what the butler told me contains some truth,” she observed bluntly. “No,” I protested. “My mind is in no way unhinged. I am fully aware of all that transpired at The Boltons, ofâ€"-â€"” . “At The Boltons (1” she interrupt- cd, turning a trifle pale. “What do you mean ’2” “Of the crime enacted. at that houseâ€"in The Boltons.” She held her breath. Plainl she was not before aware that had discovered the spot where the tra- gedy had taken place. My words had taken her by surprise, and 1t was evident that she was utterly confounded. My discovery I had :ept a profound secret unto myself, and now, for the first time, had reâ€" vealed it. . Her face showed how utterly taken aback she was. “There is some mistake, I think,” she said lamely, apparently for want of something other to say. “Surely your memory carries you . back to that midnight tragedy l” I exclaimed rather hastily, for I saw she would even nowimislead me, if she could. “I have discov- ered where it took placeâ€"I have since re-entered that room!” “You have!” she gasped in the low, hoarse voice of one fearful lest 'her secret should be discovered. “You have actually re-discovered the houseâ€"even though you were stone blind 1” “Yes,” I answered. “How did you accomplish it '2” " I shrugged my shoulders, answer- ing, “There is an old sayingâ€"a very true oneâ€"that ‘inui‘dei‘wvill out.’ ” “But tell me more. ‘ Explain more fully,” she urged in an ear- nest tone. I hesitated. Next ‘nstant, howv ever, I decided to keep my own counsel in the matter. Her readi- ness to deny that the events occur- red in that house had re-aroused within me a distinct suspicion. “It is a long story, and cannot be told here,”I answered evasiveâ€" 1v. ' “Then come along to the hotel,” he suggested. “I, too, have much to say to you.” I do not know that I should have obeyed her were it not for the mystery which had hitherto veiled her identity. She had saved my life, it is true, and I supposed that I ought to consider her as a friend, yet in those few minutes during which I had gazed upon her» a curi- ous dislike of her had arisen with- in me. She was, I felt certain, not the straightforward person I had once believed her to be. Not that there was anything in her appearance against her. On the contrary, she was a pleasant, smil- ing, rather pretty woman of perâ€" haps thirty-five, who spoke with the air and manner of a lady, and who carried herself well, with the grace of one in a higher social circle. After a few moments’ hesitation my curiosity got the better of my natural caution, and I determined I to hear what she had to say. There- fore we drove together to Bath Hotel. ’ In her own private sitting-room, a cosy little~ apartment overlooking Piccadilly, opposite Dover Street, .sbe removed her big black hat. drew off her gloves, and having invited use to a chair, took one herself on the opposite side of the fireplace. Her maid was there when we enter- ed. but retired at word from her mistress.” “You, of course, regard it as very curious. Mr. Heaton. that after these six years I should again seek you,” she commenced, leaning her arm lightly upon the little table. and gazing straight into my face without ilinchinxr. “It is true that once I was enabled to render you a service, and now in return I ask you also to render me one. Of course. it is useless to deny that a gem-of. exists between usâ€"a secret Evrhich. if revealed, would ‘be dis- astrous.” ' ' “To whom ’3” “To certain persons whose names need not be mentioned.” “Why not ’3” “Think,” she said, very gravely. “Did you not promise me that, in return for your life when you were blind and helpless, you would make no effort to learn the true facts? It seems that you have already learnt at least oneâ€"the spot where the crime was committed.” “I consider it my duty to learn what I can of this affair,” I answer- ed determinedly. She raised her eyebrows ’with an expression of surprise, for she saw that I was in earnest. “After your vow to me 2” she asked. “Remember that, to acâ€" knowledge my indebtedness for that vow, I searched for the one speci- alistwho could restore your sight. To my efforts, Mr. Heaton, you are now in possession of that sense that was lost to you.” “I acknowledge that freely,” I answered. “Yet, eVen in that you have sought to deceive me.” “How?” “You told me that you were not the writer of those letters signed with a pseudonym.” “And that is true. I was not the actual writer, even though I may have caused them to be written.” “Having thus deceived me, how can you hope that I can-be free with you '2” “I regret,” she answered, “that slight deception has been necessary to preserve the secret.” “The secret of the crime '2” She nodded. ' “Well, and what do you wish to tell me this evening '4” _ She was silent for a moment toy. mg with her rings. “I want to appeal to your genâ€" erosity. I want you to assist me."- “In what manner?” “As before.” “As before!” I repeated, greatly surprised. “I have no knowledge of having assisted you before.” “What?” she cried. “Is your memory so defective that you do not recollect your transactions with those who waited upon youâ€"those who kept the previous appointments of which you have spoken?” “I assure you, madam,” I said, quite calmly, “I have not the least idea of what you mean.” “Mr. Heaton!” she cried. “Have you really taken leave of your sen- ses? Is it actually true what your butler has said of yenâ€"that on the day you left Denbury you behaved like a madman?” “I am no madman!” I cried with considerable warmth. “The truth is that I remember nothing since one evening, nearly six years ago. when I was smoking withâ€"with a friendâ€"in Chelsea, until that day to which my servant has referred.” “You remember nothing? That is most extraordinary.” “If strange to you, madam, how much more strange to me? I have told you the truth, therefore kind- ly proceed to explain the object of these previous visits of persons you have apparently sent to me.” “I really think you must be jok- ing,” she said. “It seems impos- sible that you should actually be unaware. ’ ’ “I tell you that I have no know- ledge whatsoever of their business with me.” “Then if such is really the case, let me explain,” she said. ‘First, I think you will admit that your financial transactions with our Gov- ernment have brought you very handsome profits.” “I am not aware of having had any transactions with the British Government,” I answered. “I refer to that of Bulgaria,” she explained. “Surely you are aware that through my intermediary you have obtained great concessionsâ€"â€" the docks at Varna, the electric trains at Sofia, the railway from Tirnova to the Servian frontier, not to mention other great undertak- ings which have been floated as companies, all of which are 'now earning handsome profits. You cannot be ignorant of that 1” (To be Continued.) MATCHING FARM TEAMS. Matching horses is an art, and an art which quite a number of farmers and horsemen seem unable to master. It requires some skill and judgment to bring together a pair of horses .that resemble each other in all characteristics sufiici- out to work in harmbny.‘ A man has to have more than the color (f the animals in mind to do this successfully. To have a team closeâ€" l\ alike in color and markings is desirable, but it’s not the whole thing. as some men seem to think. Action comes first when consid- ering the matching of horses. Proper action; strong, clean, vigorous a buyer more. quickly than anything else. Style is required in the ac- tion of any class of horse. A snappy, straight and balanced movement of the motive apparatus; a team, each of which stands up to {movement of feet and legs, attracts tie bit in about the same way, are attractive to buyers and l ' to the man who drives theiiifmsmg In a farm team, strength and conâ€" formationnnight possibly be placed before action; at any rate, it should come second. A team ill-matched in regard to strength and staying powers, is a mighty poor asset. In selecting horses to work against each other in a team, get them in general conformation as nearly alike as possible, good and strong behind, and muscled well in the back and loin, short and thick in the middle, with muscles, not fat beneath the hide. Size, to a -'ec’- tain extent, may be sacrificed for strength and conformation, but only Within certain limits. A dif- ference of a hundred pounds or so in weight doesn’t matter greatly when. a pair is being matched up, but if much more than that, the difference in size will be so clear as to detract from the value of the team. Size is important, but it comes after strength, just as strength and conformation follow action in relative importance. 001- cr comes last of all in the major points to be considered. A differ- ence in color, however marked, is among the least objectionable fea- tures in a team. Yet, strangely, some men consider it the allâ€"import- ant consideration, and will match up horses so unlike in action and temperament, that one’s whiflie- tree is always scouring the wagon wheel, while the other is drawmg ahead keen and strong to the bit, so unlike in strength and conformaâ€" tion that one is fagged out hours before the other shows fatigue; but if the two stand about the same 'n height, weigh up very nearly alike, and resemble each other in color. and markings, they are rated as a well-matched team. In reality, they are anything but matched . FATTENING FOWL IN PENS. The proportion of farmers who fatten their fowls in coops in this country is small compared with the number of those who do not fatâ€" ten at all, but send their fowls to market in a lean state, and there- are also numbers of poultry keepers who enclose fowls for a couple of weeks in a pen or shed. Something can be done towards improving the condition of chickens by shutting them up in a shed and feeding liber- ally on nutritious and high fattenâ€" ing foods. The foods may be male up in the same way, and may con- sist of the same ingredients as re- commended for crate fattening. It is best not to shut up a large num‘ ber of birds together, and the numâ€" her not to exceed twentyuwhilst half that many would do still bet- I | ter. Cockrcls and pullets must not be penned in one lot, and the near- 61 all the fowls in a pen are l'.; an- other in breed, age and size, the better. Chickens may be penieul in any kind of enclosure, where they will be undisturbed an 1 where they cannot take too much excl-else ; but a shed or covered pen is best, as the floor will keep dry, and the birds will be all the more content- ed from being shut away from the sight .of birds roaming about the yards. . _ ' The experienced fancwr \‘v‘lll al- ways get best results frorn' fatten- ing in coops; but the beginner is generally more successful w21h fat- tening fowls in pens, because there 1 is not the Same tendency to loss at appetite, provided that due care is taken to feed only sweet i‘llll .vnolc- some foods and not to focal more than the birds will eat at any meal. There are opportunities of feeding a greater variety of stuffst; fouls in pens than to those 'n coops. Whole grain may be given own 1011- ally, although it is not re': nnmond~ ed unless the birds become listless, and show marked loss of appetite, and green food may also be fed oc- casionally as a pick-mcâ€"up. Ol-‘an- liness and thorough ventllation in the house are absolute essentials to succcss, and. it must not be suppos- ed for a moment that th: "pun sys- tem” of fattening is one which lends itself to carelessness, and ‘nc smrk- ing of duties which ought to be per- formed with machine-11kt regular- ity. 'I‘ Poppertonâ€"“Wife has Youn . g left me in gene shopping and charge of the baby, and I am re- gularly put to it to know how. to keep the little fellow quiet.” Grim- shaw (after regarding the bowling and contorti‘ng juvenile critically)â€" "I should think you could easily keep him quiet, both in a vocal and physical way, by gagging him careâ€" fully, tving his hands behind his back, binding his feet together, , nailing his clothes to the floor, and itben administering cliluuxform to ! him.” N...â€"â€"m~ ma-wmxummwbflfflimfhm .s ' 4 fl 5”» .,,' '»,~‘J‘AVJ‘.\MNW-/‘..“- “ - - my (“as ,-.-_~_,>»_,..i_,..fs,,,.~.’._ _ . ; . Q“'."‘?1‘*Â¥~Tfif+'*’i¥fi‘?“l