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fiancee. - - CHAPTER XXVI.-â€"(Continued). “To whom? What would Mina. gain by Lord Chesterleigh for a father? f what use would it be to her.” Money? She will earn, in the most do: lightful way,_ more than she Will know w at to do with. What. would,Lord Ches- gain by the revelation of the A daughter of whom he knows no- acquirin Rank ? terleigh truth ‘ thing; and, on the other hand, he would lose a. daughter. Lady Edith. to whom he is devotedly attached. And think of her!” “I am thinking of her," said Clive hoarsely. “Quite 50. Of course. you, with your ‘correct and highly-toned mindâ€" “For goodness sake, don't mock me!” groaned Clive. “Pardon. But you are thinking at the ethical, the moral side of the question. of course; the ‘duty’ of revealing the truth. My dear fellow. do you him-81110 this case of Mina’s is without parallel, that it stands alone? What about the Warsdale peerage? It is generally kn0wn that the present real earl is out in the backwoods of America. Penslsigh baronetcy? . The man who bears the rite is the cousin of the real man, who, for family reasons, keeps a store in: British Columbia. What aboutâ€"oh, I could recall several cases to your mem- ory. And in. this one, bear in mind. it is not. a. question of succession. They are both women; no title, excepting the mere courtesy one. ‘Lady,’ is at stake. It is just probable that Mina. will marry a. title: she is beautiful, gifted enough to catch half the peerage. And Lady Edith -â€"_â€"” He paused, and Clive turned and faced him with a white, drawn face. "Lady Edith will marry me.” he said. Quilton said nothing, but stood. his face absolutely impussive and expressionless. “That is now certain."- “And yet you love Mina?" remarked . .~-.Quilton in a matter-of-fact tone. Olive.eyed hi-m steadily. "And yet I love Mina," he said grimly. “Quilton, I have seen her, spoken to her again. was a mistake. She â€"-God help us both!â€"‘ .she cares for me still. . And I had re- solved to tell Lady Edith the truth, to give her her freedom, to obtain mine, and marry Minaâ€"if she would have me. But now, now that Lady Edith isâ€"in trouble. has this dark cloud hanging over her life, .Iâ€"I must. stand by her." ‘ Quilton nodded. “Noblesse oblige," he commented. “Exactly. Well. that’s your affair. So you see that Lady Edith will have a title of her own-oh, you will end in the House of Lords, of course!” ‘jLord Chesterleigh suspects nothing?" and Clive after a pause. He spoke in the dull voice of a. man who has lost all in- terest in life. who has slipped back into the row of spectators. , “Nothing. He does not know that I was Juanita’s, his wife’s, lover, before he mar- ried her. I was at Quetta with him. bu‘ did not make myself known. I did not meet him until after his second marriage: and I should not have attempted to stop it, if I had knovin him: for I, too, believ- ed Juanita. to be dead: until I saw her that night at Palace Yard. I stood close beside you, but in the excitement you did u not see meâ€" » a knock at the door, ' There, came and Quilton slipped out. He came back in a. moment or two, his face pale, his eyelids almost covering his eyes. “She is dead," he said. CHAPTER 100711. One night, some months later. Clive was coming out of the House; and as he pass- ed through the usual crowd. who made a lane for him, he was gazed at with eager curiosity and interest, and those of the spectators who were familiar with the House and its members nudged those who were not so fortunate, and whispered. "That's Mr. Olive Harvey, the Right Hon. Clive Harvey, President of the Local Gov- ernment Board!” They watched him as he went down the steps and along the cor- .ridor. some of them no doubt enviously. but.possibly a few with another kind of feeling; for they could not fail to see that the successful politician did not look, not- withstanding his success, as happy as we still think a. man ought to look when he has gained his heart’s desire. ' They could not fail to see that he was thin and pale and careworn; hiswell- knit frame was held erect, and the keen grey eyes looked straight before them: but there was no glow of satisfaction. in them, no indication that he was revelling- in the triumph of gratified ambition. His was not only a. look of overworkâ€"for it is possible to be overworked and yet to be happyâ€"but that of a man who has some secret outside his public life, some- thing preying on his mind. The Liberals were in with a .big ma- jority; and it was they who now lounged with an air of complacency in their seats, and talked and laughed with the manner of men who have been° victors in the fight, and are enjoying the spoils; and Clive’s friends and colleagues thought and expected that he would have been enjOY- ing his share of the good things; for he had been made President of the Local Government Board, and “his appointment had been-received with general approval. It was said quite openly that. if luck stood by him. he would one day, be Premier. But if he displayed no satisfaction or grati- fication in the honor which had been be- stowed upon him, he certainly proved the wisdom of Mr. .Graham's choice; and Clive quickly earned the reputation of be- lntg “a glutton for work." ‘ ndeed. he seemed to share his time be- tween his Office, the House, and Grosvenor Square, where Lord Chesterleigh and Lady Edith frankly and openly displayed the delight and pride in his appointment which appeared to be lacking in Clive himself. And yet they, too. seemed to be uneasily aware that there was some-l thing wrong. Lord Chesterleigh ascribed it to overwork; and Lady Edith tried to accept and to share this diagnosis of Clive’s condition ; but she was possessed by a vague and indeflnable sense of “something wrong,” which not even Clive's devoted attention to her could dispel. And, indeed, he was the most devoted of He had always been what is called at- tentive to her: but since the election his manner had been marked by a chivalrous devotion which had a note of tenderness. an air of protection, which though it should have gratified her. only accentuat- cd her vague and nameless apprehension. Eye and lip service, however watchful, however unremitting, is a poor substitute for love. It_is strange and awful the amount of ill-treatment a woman will hear from a ,man uncomplainlngly while she is ure of his love for her. Women of the Iower orders will cheerfully endure even blows if they are sure that the heart of the brute who ill-treats them still beats for them; and there is‘ little‘difl’erence at core between ’Ai'riet, the costermonger'g girl, and your Lady Edith Chesterleigh. If Clive had been at times impatient, I brusque. and, yes, even brutal, Lady Edith would have borne the treatment with More than MV-iiiiinity. if she could have What about the] and eager: to forestall her slightest desire, to gratify every whim. The pride which was her chief characteristic had been lulled, hypnotized by her love for him: but it was only lulled. only sleeping, and it might be awakened any moment, and cast forth flames and ashes like any aroused volcano. .. Clive was thinking of”'h'er as he passed out of the House that night; in fact, he was always thinking of her. He lived in the endeavor to thrust Mina out of his mental sight. out of his memory, and to implant Lady Edith there. The House had settled down to legislation. Hither- ,to his marriage had been an impossnbil- lity; but now that he had well started 'his 'work at the Office, it might be possible for him to marry and get away for a short honeymoon. In his condition of mind, a decisive step. like that of his marriage to Lady Edith. was most welcome: it would settle things {for ever; it would place an insurmount- able barrier between him and the'past, qwhich meant, of course, between him and Mina. He found Lady Edith in her boudoir. She had just returned from, a reception, and Sara. was removing her mistress’s light opera cloak. The woman salaamed as Clive entered, and moved to the door with downcast eyes, but at the door she paused an inapprcciable moment, and shot a. glance of doubt, suspicion, and something like malice at Olive, a glance which he did not notice. , “How tired you look, dearest!" said Lady Edith. as he took a. seat beside her. and raised her hand to his lips. “It's quite wicked the way you're working. Far ther says that you must go away for a rest and change." “In intend doing so.” said Olive. “1 t came to you to-night to speak about itâ€" I’m afraid I’m very late; but I had to speak to-night: there was an attack on me by some of the Socialist party‘; and I had to answer it. Not that it did much good; for they are implacable." Ho smil- cd. "They appear to hear me a. personal 'grudge, ’But never mind that. I have Idecgded to go awayâ€"if you will go. With me I, His face crimsoned, and she caught her breath. "Yes, dearest.” he went on. _ you to mary me at once. There is no reason why we should wait any longer. We must be married quickly. I'm afraid we lshan't be able to afford a. long honeY- moon; there is so much to do at the 9f- lice; and they want me in the House. Her bosom heaved and her eyes glowed- She drew a. little nearer to him, and leant her head on his breast. “I will do whatever you wish. Clive." she said. "Yes; I will marry you when- ever you like. Butâ€"but are you sure that you want to marry me so soon? You are so busy, so absorbed. Oh, I know it is inevitable. But sometimes I feel as if â€"â€"ns if I. only occupied a subordinate po- lsition in your life: as if you loved your work first and me afterwards." He put his arm round her and essayed to caress and smile her doubts to rest: but to-nigbt her vague apprehensions found a. voice, forced her into speech. “Clive, sometimes I am conscious of a. terrible, horrible feeling that I do not possess the whole of your heart; thatâ€"- that you do not love me as I love you. All, but that would be impossible; but I fear sometimesâ€"it creeps over me like a chill, like the touch of death itselfâ€"- that if,'by some evil chance, we were sepa- rated, that if all were over between .us. you would not care, would not sullen”. “My dear Edith,” he began, with a chill like that of which she had spoken creep- ing over him; but she broke in again be- fore he could continue: “If there are any grounds for my fear. if for any reason I am right in this dread lof mine, I want you to tell me. _I could gbear it from your lips. It would kill me. but I should not complain. What I could not endure would be to discover it in other ways. That would not kill me, but would drive me mad." She drew herself from him and stood erect, her face white, 'her eyes flashing: she was at that mo- ment the personification of the pride that is all-devouring, implacable. Clive took her hands and down beside him again. "My marriage with you is the one aim and desire of my life, Edith,” he said gravely. "Put all such thoughts away from you. Believe me when I say that my whole life shall be devoted to making you happy." “You can make me happy with a word. a look." she said; “and you know it. Oh. IClive, if you knew how I loved youâ€"but lyou never will know! Yes; I will marry you whenever you likeâ€"you know that." Lord Chesterleigh knocked at the (1901‘ while they were talking and. arranging the marriage; and he entered into the discussion with a joy and a pleasure too obvious for concealment. Lady Edith de- cided that she could get her trousseau to~ lgether in three weeks;.and 'an approxi- mate date for the marriage was chosen to- wards the end of that period; and Clive went home with’that sense of relief which follows on a momentous decision. Notwithstanding his exalted political po- sition and his increased income, he still occupied his old rooms in Burleigh Street, still very often dined off a mutton chop. and still smoked his old briar. Now and again he met Quilton on the stairs, or Quilton came to his rooms; but the con- versation of the two men was almost en- tirely confined to olitical and similar subjects; Mina an the unhappy woman, her mother, were never mentioaed. Quil~ ton's manner to Clive was as impertur- able and indifferent as it had been in the early stages of their acquaintance; or, if there was any change, it was indicated by a certain tone of pity and sympathy; anyway, Quilton had not treated Clive lately witli_the touch of sardonic irony which he displayed on one or two occa- sions some months before. That night Clive paused at his door, and then went up to Quilton's room. He was conscious of a desire to tell him of the approaching marriage. He knocked ‘at the door, and Quilton opened it cau- “I want drew her O'Wl’l tlously; a very little way; but, seeing that it was Clive, at once opened it wide- ly and beckoned him to enter. Quilton cleared a chair by the simple operation of tilting the books and papers upon it to the floor. and Clive sat down and leant his head on his hands. He was the Right Hon. Clive Harvey, a. possible Premier; but at that moment he felt. that. he would willingly change places with the solitary worker who lived in that, cheer- less room. Quilton pushed his tobacco pouch across the table. and, seating him- self on the arm of his writing-chair, filled his own pipe. . .“Anything the matter?" he inquired in a casual way. felt certain that a passionate love for her lay behind it; but he was never impla- tient,._nevcr brusque, always courteous __ _. _. w... M_.w~‘_â€"«___ c_... fies]: from the Gardens of the finest Tea-producing country in . ~/- z -I . Ceylon Tea. my itâ€"it’s delicious. .mMâ€"._.. _ s nA Clive roused himself from his reverie. “The matter? Oh, no. I' am 80mg t0 b0 married in about vthree weeks; and I thought I should like to tell you. Will you come to the ceremony, QuiltonP“ “Much honored by the invitation," said Quilton; “but marriages are not in my way. All the same, I wish you luck. Where are you going to spend your honey. moon? Try Switzerland. You look to me ofl color, as if you wanted toning up; and there is nothing like a. dose of Al- pine air. Things going all right in the House?” "011. Yes.” said Clive listlessly. "I see that some of your Socialistic friends are making themselves a nuis- out of the House appear to be as bitter as those inside it.” "Oh, do they?" said Clive. "Yes," said Quilton, staring at his pipe. “There's a. man named Koshki who seems to have his knife in you. Know him? But. of coume you do. Gentleman speaks with a Polish-Germanio-Whitechapel alien ac- cent. and adds to his other charming qualities an inherent dislike of soap and water." h‘Glive laughed mirthlcssly. "Oh, I know ini.” "Just so. And, of course, you know you‘re being shadowed?" said Quilton, as casu- ally as before. “Oli, am I?" . “Yes; very closely and very neatly shad- owed. I happened to spot this as I saw on coming out. of the House the other night. And a lady is taking part in the game." _ “A lady?” said Clive, with some display of interest and curiosity, “What lady?” “A lady of Oriental type,” replied Quilâ€" ton. “Lady Edith's Hindoo servant, Sara." "Oh, you must be mistaken/59am Clive with a smile. “ "Not very easy to mistake a lady with so conspicuous a presence," said Quiltoii. “She appears to have struck up an ac- qualntance or friendship with our friend Koshki. To tell you the truth, while they have been shadowing you I have been amusing myself by shadowing them. Yes; that's just ltâ€"amusing myself." "But, good heavens, why should Lady Edith’s servant shadow me?" exclaimed Clive. Quilton shrugged his shoulders. "Can't say. I should have thought you might have known. You don't seem to be ner- vous about it?" Clive laughed and leant back with something like amusement on his lined and haggard face. "Scarcely. Why shou‘d I be?" There was a silence for a. minute of two, and Clive relapsed into reverie again; then he rose to go: but he hesitated and said in almost a harsh and dry voice: "Have you heardâ€"have you any news?" "Yes." said Quilton at once. "She has been ill. Breakdown, the doctors-call it: they have ordered her to give up singing l and take a. rest, a. long rest, the sword wearing out the scabbard, I should say." Clive's face grow still paler. and the A case of eyes he raised to Quilton were heavy with pain and trouble and despair. "Notâ€"not seriously?" he asked. almost inaudibly. ' “Oh, no," replied Quilton. put matters right.” “Whereâ€"where is she?" asked Clive thickly. ‘ Quilton stared before him. "In about three weeks. you think?" he said. as if he had not heard the question. "Let me know when the date is quite fixed, so that I can give a gorgeous account of the af- fair iii the Beacon. What wretched wear ther we have been having lately, eh?" _ Clive knew that it was no use his ask: ing any further questions. With a. sigh As he opened it “A rest will he moved to the door. Quilton said: , “By the way, I should keep my eye 11D- on that fellow Koshki, to say nothing of Sara. Koshki deals in dynamite, and our friends. the Hindoos are most of them familiar with the use of the knife.” Clive shrugged his shoulders. with an indifference too profound for contempt. and went down the stairs with a. slow and heavy step. "CHAPTER XXVIII. The weeks rolled on,‘ and Clive moved through them like a. man in a dream. Now, Nature keenly resents the kind of affront he was offering to her, and she retaliated with insomnia. He could not sleep, and lie-dared not take narcotics; for, clever as we are nowa- days. no chemist has been able to discover a narcotic that will not affect the brain: and of course, Mr. Clive Harvey, the Cabinet Minister, had to keep his clear and in working order. Meanwhile Lady Edith was busy with her trousseau; and it engaged so much of her time that she saw very little of Olive, excepting at night, when, flushed with his Parliamentary work, he did not look as bad as he really was. And yet. at times, she caught a. look on his face which awak- ened her vague uneasiness; but she lulled it to rest by the reflection that in a little while they would have left London, and Clive would get the rest he so sorely needed. They were within a. week of the Wed- ding, when one night a telegram was brought into the House for Clive. He opened it" listlessly: then started and stared at it like a man who has received a sudden shock. a “No bad news, I hope?" said Mr. Gra- ham, who was sitting beside him. Clive mechanically handed him the tele; gram. “My brother Adolphus is dead,’ he said. He left the House at once and went round to Grosvenor Square. Both Lord Chesterleigh and Edith happened to be in; they were, of course, aghast at the news; and Lady Edith went white; for in an instant she saw that the wedding would have to be postponed. “My poor Clive!" said Lord Chester- leigh. “It is so sudden, so unexpectedâ€"â€" and1yet he was always delicate and all- 1ug I: “Yes,” said Clive in a low voice; "and that is why I did not attach any great importance to some of his letters, forgive me! I must go down at once: he â€"â€"-he is at Rafborough, and I don’t know where Bertie is." round him vaguely, (To be continued.) once," said Quilton: “and those who are - He got up and looked Sealed Lead Packets Only. 0“ BLACK, MIXED or GREEN. alarms first VIGIL FOR DEAD PRIEST KEPT FOUR CENTURIES: â€"- Remains Known to _Be in Cave Somewhere With Guards in Attendance. Peter Oleson, a Danish mining engineer and mill owner, declares that he owes the escape of himself and his wife from Zacapu, in the State of Michicogan, Mexico, to the influence of a. Danish monk who lived in that .part of Mexico nearly inO years ago. He tells the follow- ing story: Father Dacio, a Danish monk, went to Mexico 'in the early part of the sixteenth century. In 1540 he founded the Town of Zinsonsa. He worked among the Indians and so far endeared himself to them that the memory of his life is to-day their most treasured tradition. When Father Dacio died his body was embalmed and hidden away in a subterranean cave, where it was installed in a sitting posture in an armchair carved out of solid rock. From the day of his death until now, so tradition goes, candles have been kept burning in his un- ,derground resting-place, and three Indians have kept constant vigil over the place, the location of which is said to be Known to the Guards Only, who never leave until taken by death, and the two oldest Indians of the tribe, which treasures the tradition. ; For 300 years the secret had been ' handed down by its custodians to ’those selected by virtue of their age to receive it and keep it and pass it along at the approach of the reaper. . Several of the Popes, so the story goes, have sought to have the reâ€" mains of Father Dacio removed to ,, V<.A»_4‘”MMWMMW. ~ ~ --- :3. Rome, but the Indians bake refus‘id either to give them up or to reveal their location. There is a tradi.’ tion, says Oleson, of one priest sent out by Home to learn the location of the subterranean tomb who won. the confidence of the Indians to the’ extent of inducing them to show: him the cmbalmed body of the monk. He was blindfolded and led. to the place. tied over his eyes the priest cut the string of his rosary and, under pr04 tection of his cloak, dropped a. head at frequent intervals. The beads were to guide him to the place when: a chance offered later on to make, the trip without escort. Indians Honest and Faithful. The Indians kept their word and- l-ed him to the candle-lighted cave where he saw the silent figure of the ancient monk, sitting upright in”- . his chair of stone. He was blind-‘ folded again and led back. When: the aged Indian ‘who had led him to the tomb removed the bandaged from his eyes the other holder 80‘s the secret, who had accompani A them, handed to the priest a haziin ful of beads with the remark: “You dropped these.” Oleson says that he bad man? warm friends among the Indian and has every reason to believed. the story is true and that som where in the vicinity of Zinsons the embalmed body of that IRIS-v: sionary of long ago sits in- a. stone chair, staring with unseein‘g eye at the everlasting candlelight whic keeps alive in the hearts of th ._â€"_.._.â€"__ and worked for the memory of His. Own Good Deeds. true. I have talked with. one 0 the old chiefs who is said to have. the secret of the subterranean' tomb. I have heard the story 0% Father Dacio from his lips. I knew, solely because I was a Danei When the Indians first learned that, deeply interested, but surprised, that I had not known Father Dacio} I tried to explain that 1540 was a’ long time ago. They said theyi knew that, but that Father Dacid was such a. great man that every}; body must have known him. “They. accepted me because I was a Dane,- and I know when I go backiny property will be just as I left it.‘ If the Indians who promised to care for it are ,dead, they will have delegated the duty to somebody, else. They may be ignorant, as the world’s idea. of knowledge goes, but they have the capacity for re«[ membering a friend. When J udg4 cment Day comes Father Dacio- will- be- able to testify.” WM ...____â€"- Concrete Hog Houses and Feeding Floors Enable you to raise bigger. hogs and better pork without heaVicr feeding. concrete feeding floor permits the aniâ€" mals to clean up all the eliminates the possibility disease. To you they feed without waste, and of your hogs contracting Mean Bigger Profits Hog houses of concrete are sanitary, easily cleaned, maintain an even temperature and give plentyof light and air, which tend to better the quality of pork. 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