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wâ€"TIX'AWJKE’JWWA I”. f... mum. Mimicâ€"WK,» W», a-â€" ’\ A «K. W“ ..~...,-_v~_~w.ou Mwnawu.www . g- p, “.S’...‘ .,,..,,. < .' w“ -*W*ME‘WO‘S¢£WWR- ,fl,~4.pc l 's 2, s s 5‘W‘ r . , Hahn." ’ was», a >4 i s p...__.r- émwmmmwmmwommmmmmmmmmmm l A House éf‘uysru CHAPTER XXIX. At fiveb’clock that same afterâ€" noon I alighted from a hansom beâ€" fore'the Langham Hotel, and pre- senting my card at the bureau, in- quired for Miss'Anson. The clerk looked at me rather curiously, I thought, glanced at the card, and entering the telephone-box, spoke some words into the instrument. on the first floor, where I waited until a. gentlemanly, middle-aged, fairâ€"headed man entered, with my card in his hand. ‘ “Good afternoon,” he said, greetâ€" ing me rather stifily. “Her High- ness is at present out driving. Is there anything I can do ‘l I am her secretary.” “Her Highness?” I echoed, with a smile. “There must be some mis- I was shown into a small room I'have take. called to see ' Mabel Anson.” M188 IIe regarded me. with some sur- prise. “Are_ you, then, unaware that Anson is the name ado ted by Her Highness to preserve liar incogni- ta :1” he asked, glancing at me in quick suspicion. aware of her tion ’1” “No!” I cried, in blank amaze- ment. “This is indeed a revelation to me! I have known Miss Anson intimately during the past six years. What is her true rank?” “The lady whom you know as Miss Anson is Her Imporial.Highâ€" Ross the Archduchess Marie Elizaâ€" beth Mabel, third daughter of His Majesty the Emperor Joseph of Austria.” “Mabel ! The daughter of an Em- 1‘ I)! “Are you not real rank and staâ€" Francis peror I gasped involuntarily. "Impossible !” He shrugged his shoulders. He was a foreigner, although he spoke English probably. H “You are surprised,” he laughed. Many people have also been sur- prised, as the Archduchess. living ii: England nearly her whole life, has frequently been taken for an Englishwoman.” “I can’t believe it!” I cried. “Surely there must be some misâ€" take!” I remembered those days of long ago when we had wandered to- gether in Kensington Gardens. How charming and ingenuous she was; how sweet and unaffected by worldly vanities, how trustful was; that look when she gazed into my eyes! Her air was never that of the daughter of the reigning House of Hapshourg-Lorraine. She had possessed all the enchantment of ideal grace without the dignity of rank, and it seemed incredible that she was actually a princess whose home was the most brilliant Court of Europe. “I can quite understand your surprise,” observed the secretary “But what is the nature of your business with Her Highness ‘3” “It is of a purely private na- ture.” ‘ He glanced at the card. “The Archduchess does not re- ceive callers,” he answered coldly. “But at least you will give her my name, and tell her that I have something of urgent importance to communicate to her,” I cried cag- erly. He licsitatccl.' “If you are, as you allege, an old friend, I will place your card before her,” he said at last, with some hesitation. “You may leave your address, and} if Her Highness consents to receive vou I will communicate with you.” b “No,” I answered in despera- tion; “I will remain and await herl return.” "That is impossible,” he respond- ed “She has many engagements, and certainly cannot receive you to-day.” I recollccted that the letter I had found at Denbury made it plain that we had parted abruptly. If this man gave her my card without any word, it was more than likely that she would refuse to see me. Therefore I entered into argu- ment with him, but while I was speaking the door opened suddenly, and my love stood before me. She halted there. elegantlyz dressed. having just returned from! her drive. and for a moment we faced each other speechless. “Mr. Heston!” she cried, and, then, in breathless hurry arising! from the sudden and joyful sur- piisc. she rushed forward. l wellâ€"an Austrian most â€"â€"â€"oâ€" -â€"â€"â€"â€"-â€"d‘ on, THE elm. IN BLUE ovmrommmmmnmma mmmmwlmo mmmm-k V .i fiéfifixâ€"ifigégm :13 Our hands grasped. For the mo- ment I could utter no word. The secretary, noticing our mutual cm- barrassment, discreetly withdrew, closing the door after him. Once again I found myself, after tpose six lost years, alone with my ove. ' “At last!” I cried. "At last I have found you, after all these months!” I was earnestly gazing into-her great dark eyes. She had altered but little since that night long ago at The Boltons, when I had discovered the traces of that hideous tragedy. I “And why have you come back to me now?” she inquired in a low, strained voice. “I have striven long and diligentâ€" l‘, to 'find you,” I answered frankâ€" ly. “becauseâ€"because I wished to tell you how I love youâ€"that I have loved you alwaysâ€"from the first moment that we met.” A grave expression crossed her countenance. “And yet you forsook me! You calmly broke off the secret engage- ment that we had mutually made, and left me without a single word. You have married,” she added re- sentfully, “therefore it is scarcely fitting that you should come here with a false declaration upon your lips.” ,' .- . “It is no false declaration, I swear,” I cried. “As for, my wife, I knew her not, and she is now dead.” , “Dead!” she gasped. “You knew her not! I don’t understand.” “I have loved you always ~ al- ways, Princessâ€"for I have only ten minutes ago ascertained your true ran ” ' “Mabel to youâ€"~as always,’ said, softly interrupting me. . “Ah, thank you for those words!” I cried, taking her small gloved hand. “I have loved you from the first moment that we met at the Colonel’s, long agoâ€"you remember that night?” “I shall never forget it,” she fal- tered in that low tone as of old, which was as sweetest music to my ears. V “And you remember that even- ing when I dined with you at The Boltons‘l” I said. “Incomprehen- sible though it may seem, I began a new life from that night, and for sin whole yea-rs have existed in a state of utter unconsciousness of all the past. Will you consider me inâ€" sane if I tell you that I have no knowledge whatever of meeting you after that night, and only knew of our engagement by discovering this letter among my private papers a couple of months ago ‘2” and I drew her letter from my pocket. “Your words sound most remarkâ€" able,” she said, deeply interested. “ {clate the whole of the facts to me. But first come along to my sitting-room. We may be inter- rupted here.” And she led the way to the end of the corridor, where we entered an elegant little salon, one of the handsome suite of rooms she occu- pied. She drew forth a chair for me, and allowing a middle-aged gentle- womanâ€"her ladyâ€"inâ€"waiting, I pre- sumeâ€"to take her hat and gloves, we once more found ourselves alone. How exquisitely beautiful she was! Yet her royal birth, alas! placed her beyond my reach. All my hopes and aspirations had been in an instant crushed by the know- ledge of her rank. I could only now relate to her the truth, and seek her forgiveness for what had seemâ€" ed a cruel injustice. . I took her unresisting hand, and told her how long ago I had loved her, not daring to expose to her the great secret of my heart. If we had mutually decided upon marriage, and I had deliberately deserted her, it- was, I declared, because of that remarkable unconsciousness which had blotted out all knowledge of my life previous to that last night when we had dined together, and I had accompanied the man Hickman to his lodgings. "But tell me all,” she urged, “so that I can understand and judge accordingly.” And then, beginning at the begin- ning, I recounted the whole of the amazing facts, just as I have nar- rated them to the reader in these foregoing chapters. I think the telling occupied most ’ she g 33$ g. a it ‘Q 3,! s i t ‘ I returned to Vienna. but soon be- part of an hour; but she sat there, her lovely eyes fixed upon me, her mouth half open, held dumb and motionless by the strange story I unfolded.‘ "Once or twice she gave vent to ejaculations of surprise, and I saw that only by dint ofsuprcmc effort did she succeed in preserving her self-control. I told her every- thing. I did not seek to conceal one single fact. . w 7 “And he was actually murdered 1.) my'liouse?” she cried, startin up at last. “You were present?” I explained to her in detail the events of that fateful night. “Then at last the truth is plain !” she exclaimed. “You have supplied the key to the enigma for which I have been so long in search!” “Tell me,” I said, in breathless earnestness. “All these years I have been striving in vain to solve the problem.” She paused, her dark, fathomless eyes. fixed upon me, as though lacking courage to tell me the truth. r “I deceived you, Wilford, from the' first,” she faltered. “I hid frontyou the secret of my birth, and It. was at my request Colonel Channingâ€"who, of course, knew me well when he was British At- tache at -Viennaâ€"~refused to tell you the, truth: You wonder, of course, .that I should live in Eng- land incognita. Probably, howev- er, you know that my mother, the late Empress, loved England and the English. She gave me an Engâ€" lish name at my baptism, and when only five years of age I was sent here to be educated. At seventeen came tired of the eternal glitter of palace life, and a year or two latâ€" er. as soon as I was of age and my own mistress, I returned to Lon- don,‘took into my service Mrs. An- son, the widow of an English offi- cer well known to my mother, and in order to preserve my incognita Emswzrswms‘cwa man you met on that night?” “Hickman!” I cried. "Was he really a policeâ€"agent?” “Yes. He induced you, it ap- cars, to go to a lodging he had taken for the purpose, and withâ€" cut my knowledge gave you a drug- ged cigar. You fell 11 TMWMMWVW WEANIN G FOALS. and this enabled him .to thoroughly overhaul your pockets, and also to g.) to your Foals: as 3 THIS, had better be weaned at five to six. months old. They should be used to being kept in a box stall with the dam part of each day for some time before weaning, and, while the mare is tied, some chopped oats and bran kept. in a box or manger for the foal. to nibble at. If the mare is needed fcr work, she may be returned to the foal twice or three times a day, and then less frequently each day, thus drying-her gradually, or, as. some prefer, the foal may be wean- ed by taking it away from its dam at once, for good .and all, provided it has previously learned to eat and drink, in which case the mare shOuld be kept far enough away to prevent her hearing the foal call, and milked twice a day at first, and of the events that had passed.” later once 8’. €135” do 8N0”; trouble “I had none, I assure you,” Ilfrom manimitis, till she is sufiic1- said. cntly dry to be safe. If there are. chambers during the night, enter with your latchâ€"key, and make a complete search, the re- sult of which convinced us both that you had no hand in the missing man’s disappearance, in spite of the fact that his dress-stud and pencil- case were in your possession. On the following morning, however, when you were but half consciousâ€"4 Hickman having tnen'returned from making his search at Essex Street â€"â€"you accidentally struck your head a violent blow on the corner of the stone mantelâ€"shelf. This blow, so severe that they were com elled to remove you to the hospita , appar- ently affected your brain, for when I met you again a month later you seemed curiously vacant in mind, and had no recollection whatever “It seemed maWellOus that you two foals on the farm to be weaned, should be utterly in ignorance of 1" is better to keep thfim hogether what followed,” she went on, her for company, “3.0118 15 hkCly to sweet eyes Still gazing. deeply into worry from loneliness. After the. mine_ “You told me how you loved fly season is over, it is good practice me, and I, loving you in return, to allow the foal the run of a yard m. entered upon ,, clandestine en_ ti paddock daily for exercise, and gugement that was to be secret from Shomd log fed regularly 8’ fairly an. A few, Summer months went liberal ration of a mixture of chop- by, happy, joyous months, the most pad Oats and'bl‘a'n, MIC}: if 3Y§i1' .lisfiful in an my life, and then able, a carrot or two, in addition your love suddenly cooled. ,you in what good sweet clover hay it. had embarked in financial schemes “in deaf-'1 up between meals. This- il.‘ the City__you were becoming em treatment should be continued riched by some concessions in Bul- “71"?llgh the “’lntel‘, the ,amoun‘tof garia, it was whisperedâ€"but your 8mm, and Other feed being graduâ€" 1ove for me slowly died, and you ally increased as the foal grows. married a, woman twice your aggiolder. Attention should be given Can you imagine my feelings? I caused her to pass as my mother. was heartbroken, Wilford_utter1y'grow long and unshapely unless I took the house at The Boltons, heart_br0kcn'n and’only Colonel and Mrs. Chan- ning knew my real station. I was passionately fond of music. and de- sired to complete my studies, he- sides which I am intensely fond of London and of life unfettered by the trammels which must hamper the daughter of an Emperor.” in London to,that at your father's Court ’l” “Exactly,” she answered. “At twenty-one I had had my fill of life at Court, and found existence in London, where I was unknown, far more pleasant. Besides Mrs. An- son, I had a companion a young Englisliwoman who had been gover- ness in a well-known family in Vi- enna. Her name was Grainger.” “Grainger’l” I cried. “Edna Grainger l” “The same. She was my compan- ion. Well, after I had been estabâ€" lished at The Boltons nearly a year I met, while on a visit to a country house, a young man with whom I became on very friendly termsâ€"Prince Alexander, heir to the throne of Bulgaria. We met often, and altthough I still passed as Mabel Anson, our acquaintance- . . _ [weeks longer, wandered aimlessly four, "You Preferred 3' (Inlet, fl'ec llfe lhither and thither, and then at last ship ripened into a mutual affcc-, tion. With a disregard for the con- venances, I induced Mrs. Anson to invite him on several occasions to The Boltons. One morning, how- ever, I received a private message from Count do Walkensteinâ€"Tros- \burg, our ambassador here, say- ing that he had received a cipher telegraphic despatch that my father, the Emperor, was very unwell, and his Excellency suggested that I should return to Vienna. This I did, accompanied by Mrs. Anson, and leaving the woman Grainger in charge of the hoigsehold as usual. I wrote to the young Prince from Vienna, but received no reply, and when I returned a fortnight later searched for him in vain. He had mysteriously disappeared. A few days before, in my dreams, I had seen the fatal raven. the evil omen of my House and feared the worst.’ “Then the man who was murder- ed at The Boltons on that night was none other than Prince Aler- ander, the heir to the throne of Bulgaria!” I cried. “.Without a doubt,” she answer- co'. "What you have fiust told me makes it all plain. You took from the dead man’s pocket a small gold pencilâ€"case, and you will remember that I recognized it as one that I had given him. It was that fact which caused me to Ituspcct you.” “Suspect me? Did you believe me guilty of murder ’2” “I did not then know that mur- der had been committed. All that was known was'that the heir to the throne had mysteriously disappearâ€" ed. The terrible truth I have just learnt from your lips. The discov- ery that the little gift I had made to him was in your. possession fill- ed me with suspicion. and in order to solve the mystery I invoked the aid of the police-agent attached to our Embassy, and invited both of you to (line, in order that he might meet you. You will remember the l trimmed and rasped occasionally to “But I knew not what I was doâ€" keep them in 800d Shape- in l” I hastened to declare. “I 1056,] you dwaykalway, My REGULARITY IN FEEDING. brain had been injured by that A horse that is fed regularly will NOW, and all my tastes and {90111193 be in better condition on three incaâ€" thereby became inverted.” sures of oats in the day than one~ “I remained in England 3: few that is fed irregularly will be on He knows exactly when-his . attendant will feed him, and does. returned to Vienna and plunged 110- not weary for his meals; whereas a. to the vertex of gaiety at Court, horse that is fed at any or all times. in order to forget my sorrow.” is never really satisfied, and will “And that woman Granger? worry while waiting for his care- What of her '1” 7 less attendant and his meals. Ir- “She left my eel'Vlce abOUt aJ‘regularity in feeding is also a pro- month after that nigh!) When you ductive cause of many stable vices. met With your aCCident at The BOI- No more straw or hay should be tcn5~ I have 11013 seen hel‘ Since-u placed before a horse in the morn- I the“ 1‘61?!»th hOW for the 1395‘“ ing than he will eat up cleanly in month I had been Closely wall/011mg an heur, a less quantity should be her, and repeated the conversation gwen at midday, and in the even, I had Overhean at Hull betwee,“ ing she should never get any more. her apd her Winters on the prev“ than will reasonably serve him over- ()u‘s night. , night. Regularity in feeding is im- rllhe womzl'n’ after leavmg my portant in any class of live stock Serwce’ has, It Seems, Somehow be‘ in insuring the best results. come an agent of the Bulgarian Government. She knows the truth,” she said decisively. “We must ob- tain it from her.” “It wasa woman who struck the young Prince down !” I exclaimed quickly. “Of that I am certain. My love reflected for a brief in- slant. “Perhaps,” she said. “The wo- man was jealous of the attention he l FARM NOTES. In filling walls with sawdust, whether for silos, icehouses or root- bins, the sawdust should be dry and well packed down, or it will shrink and settle and leave empty spaces. There is such a thing as being too economical about the expenditure of' money for farm tools. True, tools If all kinds cost}. And yet, the man , ' ’J pdld mf’fo be Continued.) who expects to keep up with the processmn in these days ot sharp I“? _‘ competition must be prepared with PERPETUAL. the latest improved farm impleâ€" Bowscr met Jenks the other day, do hls “ 01k Plow!)th «Mid and asked lllm what he was domg Rve can be sowed for a cover empi- foll a h'vmg' .' ' . .1 . n lhtc as October, but the earlier- Usenmg' a dco‘lonmfm piiwceld it is sown the better growth it will 'La'St mne‘ I saw you you were make and the more perfectly it will. selling an insect powder to be . ‘ 1 _ I When loved- kled on the floor.” COVel he grl’um'_ . ‘I p . “run under, rye adds nothing to the seil but organic matter made from plant- food already in the soil. On the. other hand, (crimson clover, being: a legume, takes nitrogen from the: air and stores it up in the soil. For this reason it makes a far better- cover crop than rye. . There is no labor more universal among cultivators than the attemp- ted destruction of weeds and there! i‘: none which is commonly gone. about with more irregularity and want of system. Weeds infest nearâ€" lv all cultivated grounds, and their destruction is generally attempted after they have grown a foot high, more or less, either by laborious. hand labor, or more rapidly but more imperfectly with thcnvork of horses. In the garden, it is mostly performed, if at all, by the hand; in the large cornfield the ploy and' cultivator turn over or tear up the- largc weeds and leave many un- touched. Thc true management. should be the commencment of this labor with the planting or revving, of the crop. “I know; now I am going round to the same houses selling this disinâ€" fectant to get the smell of the in- sect powder out of the house. Next week I’ll sell a mixture to drive away the smell of the disinfectant." w..._.a-_«.___ HER LAST CHANCE. Bi-ide-Elcckâ€"“Mamma insists on our having a stylish church wed- ding.” Groom-Electrâ€"“I wonder why ’1” Bride-Electâ€"“She says it will probably be the last time I’ll ever have a chance to show off in good clothes.” ___.__,zr___..__. QUITE PROPERLY BACKWARD. l “He’s quite a classical scholar, isn’t be?” “Well, he’s backward in reading Hebrew.” “You don’t say? I thought he was particularly good at that.” “So he is but that’s the way you have to read Hebrew.” >1«_.. PROOF . Sniggins (angrily)â€"-“Do you know come over to ‘ .â€" ...___....-‘~... __ .w..â€"â€".â€" There are more than 5,000 motor-- bcats alreadyon the canals of Fol-- lan l. The growth of the heard is; strongest in most men on the right» hand side. that your chickens my yard!” Snooksâ€"“I supposed did, for again.” that they they never come back t his heels, which will be liable to- ;_I If i i l 1 > iffy