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1 ~. ‘m. . _ . 9.. 4.. . . fix a. ,g . . ”*om-w’» it he neg. m sawâ€"vs new ..- . . . coevmour. '8 9 “ “Oh. yes! I take it house rent is no very expensive here. At all events we will look round at all the cottages and see what kind of places are going. And we must see first whether I can work in the dead stillness of a country life. Somebody or other called it ‘dead still- ness,’ didn’t they? I once went down into the country to do a very special bit of work that I wanted in a hurry. I went down with Goggle Eyes to a farm in Surrey. I came back at the end of a P in my life! Did you know before that horses never go to sleep?" “Oh, nonsense!" “It is true.’ said he solemnly. “Horses never go to sleep, or, if they do. they walk in their sleep. My bedroom was at right angles with the stables where the farm horses lived. They kick- ed the walls and the mangers and the floor all night long. I used to go in and look at them foddered down knee deep in straw. all still. silent. quiet, except for the pulling of the chains through the iron rings of the mangers. But as soon as I got into bed they all began, and they were never still for one min- ute until cock crowâ€"never! At half past 3 or earlier the poultry yard began. And then between the coming of the laborers and the flirting of the young womenâ€"I don't know what they did, because the men did the milkingâ€"and the stentoz'ian voice of the farmer bel‘ lowing his orders I never got any rest at all. Goggle Eyes slept through it He said it was heavenly, it was so tran~ quil. I believe Goggle Ey‘es would sleep through the last 'udgment." However, the éowys Arms proved to be an ideal working place for Jan Stacey. ‘He flourished and throve. and the work grew space. and Entry was more than ever set upon establishing a little seaside home of their own. a little retreat to which they could at any mo- ment retire from the world. At the end of three weeksothe book was finished, and little Miss Winning.- ton went back to London. Alan Stacey and Mary. however, staid on at the curious old fashioned inn. spending their days in boating and fishing and trying to make up their minds in what part of the world they should spend their holiday. If he had a preference. it was for a yacht. but Mary did not fall very enthusiastically into the scheme. and hehad always a lingering fedr that she migfi‘t have a special‘reason for'no‘t wishinglto be on the Sea. Therefore he forl‘ore to press her to consent to this arrangement. for Alan Stacey would have done anything rather than in any way have reminded him of the great tragedy which had fr'eed her from her first husband. ,They allied of the Italian lakes, of the r' ' larly beaten Riviera track and lastly of Biarr'itz. with excursions over the Spanish fren- tier. Upon that they practically decid- THE 'wATCHMArMAto’Es; intention, . Eock bound coast and w . .erlngo Whether PIOVI ku‘irdi1 to her or 1101;, en Alan Stace her that all was ovirfmme “Dear." he said, “th horrible time for you as the report came that t some of the crew of t saw it in the evening never been sure whether not. Perhaps I was selfi from you, but I felt that 1 could notâ€"come and teuc would put you out of my my home, although nothing, out you out of my hem N know anything about it deed by the merest clingy“? would be neither blame ms; in: attached to either of Us. 1 {in}? landlord a lie. I told him that Ed had mistaken you for SOmebQQ and he believed it. I would be very unpleasant for v when his relatives came down were mixed up in the Story in an; and I gave him a tenner to leave. . of the affair as far as is possi‘rfm ‘ was most sympathetic. ' trouble us. We will go back I. at onceâ€"we can get part 05mg tonightâ€"and as soon as possibl will be quietly married in 50m. A the way church, where 2.25ij know anything about us. ' “Dear Alan,” said she. “what the way church will you firi my. body will know anything 2.; 3,31. “Well, dear child, there a; souls in the world who wggld m ., us by blazoning forth iii “merit a the '6th 6f 'flney ilence that followed. . ‘ d was employed business of receipting the ndered‘how many mor , be made out. paid an heir sojourn together. rd Conway found ided to stay with Alan "Then 'she .“hea‘r om the '3 hat the landlor mean the world’s pity. never its scorn. She drew her breath sharp betWeen and. tr her teeth. took her handkerchief 03 the guessed't dressing table and turned and went out ' or the room and down the stairs. Alan Stacey following, And in the best par. lor their breakfast was laid, and in two minutes the delicate fried fish and gold en fresh eggs were brought in. “Fish or eggs and bacon. sweet- heart ?" said Stacey as the apple cheek- ed maid lifted the covers of the two dishes “Eggs and bacon. thank you. Alan.' l the replied. 0 A down . ifé“ . ew he? had as. he Ag . ‘ _'| Papers I you in, l«3 k. 0le . You life. Wild ohm}3 bill. She wo 6 ho; tel bills would receipted for t - . She wondered if EdWa her. and she dec She had never in her life felt less like eating, but it would not do to arouse suspicion by refusing to try to do' so. A man every She poured out the coffee and listened to leave the with a smile that was not very real and yet she while'Alan told her of his farewell to t Basque town the old boatman. At last he stretc better to tell every story get into the pap blazoned from one the other that Alan story as romantic as any ing pages which had She bethought her, in he ‘ and anxiety, “consequences," last clause is, What would the world say t her? She did u dare to think. ts, if they don’t live by the street, after we here, and I asked an ho looked a. cheery 1y to know the neigh- him if he knew any of Stacey. He put ‘Why,’ said he, tleman who is living at ve heard tell So I came tleman who was With what ca’féless, . . a people have W1 ’eml I went dOWn . arted at the door 03* thefhnn‘ ! 5n grandfather, ”0m 1”? Pen". old soul and like r distress . bdrhoodâ€"I asked people of the name t track. t swm'g ne Walked! easy grace of carriage! inch of him! She was sorry d of the world to Stacey’s wife had a . en dear little Cornish village. felt that the pleas would be at once a c from the monotony of were then' leading. one day Alan would wake u for that. she well knew, he end of their love akes it were better an hange and a relief come the life that they her across the table. She dreaded that bed out his hand to I tr‘ . . . . no mm t]. 11y game called} a game in which the 3 me on the righ And the world said." ‘ o themâ€"to he did not '| ofasi he said, “you are “Sweetheart," P ‘70 dull. ’ quite sad at going away. Would you rather stay here ?” She answered him all in a hurry; “Oh. no, Alan; no, no. I am all packed and b9 and ready. Don’t suggest such a thing. What should make you give me such a. Lot’s wife character as that? "I much prefer to be going away. We have been here quite long enough. It is a dear lit- tle place, and you know I always want to stay in a new place forever; it is one of my characteristics, but I think I get tired of them. I think I use them up. I I shall want to come to mess, WOUId be the beginning of t Yes, for both their s go to Biarritz be quite safe there. if he were really seek- ot know; 5 Only she felt resolved that so long as she could keep the secret she would do so. you will come sir ?” she heard the boniface say. . “Yes, I expect we shall come back again the next time I have got a spell of hard work on and want to get out of London. It is difficult to work i " she heard Alan answer; of interruptions iting a story 'back to find the gen Wrinng a story book. " “Then," said Alan Stacey, ng and calmâ€"“then. my good back again. This is not h to settle a dispute of I presume you have a law- I will give you the address of ..- , mine. No power on earth can force It 18 thisolady to live with you again. She definitely refuses the honor. Everybody in London knows where I liveâ€"or if there be any that don’t know they can very easily find out. every information. “ “You will give me my wife. ” ‘ , “That I never will. While I have d Edward (.onway S breath in my body I will stick to the . ‘ dy here woman who took me in good faith for Old Fields and Timber Lana; , And if I know any- f my friends they will honor th me than they d if she went back to what some ll her duty and you.” repeated Edward Con- “I don’t believe Not ple and fair and aboveboard. I want nothing out of the l want I mean to have. . hite faced hussy be; I was a i IS WI' HE V\.;! | gay. She would , , his vorce Edward Conway. back again, very cutti sir, you can go the place in whic this kind. yer. “And n Lon- don, difficult to keep free andso on. We have enjoyed ourselves very much, I ca Then she hear don’t believe St. Agnes again. “ “Not even to have the cottage?" “No, ” trying hard to repress a shud- der; “110. DOt even to have the cottage. tering the house. Her anxious, strained, ears told her whose steps they were. or to the sanded bar, n assure you. ” d a heavy footfall en- I will give you that you and I are fast tied in wed; Alan. After all, I think you are right Till-L There is no place like London. We will a stay at home a few days before we go They passed her do on. What do you think?” “Just as you please. we shouldn’t. " “Nor I,” said she, for the thought had come to her that. if Edward Con- way was hunting her down, place in the world where you can keep 0 easily as in London. and then she hear I d , h voice saying: “You have a la on t see W y that is passing under the name of Sta- better cey. Which is her room ?" ' Then there was a rush across the h mo e f t 'no'w' . passage, and Alan Stacey burst into the “3111 r or S ayi ° 1 there 15 no room and caught her in his arms “My poor child, " he said, “I have been dreading this for weeks and weeks. t tu ugh, to find her, for The blow has fallen at last.” ' war con emp 0 u '. And by some instinct Mary knew not b't - - - ~ of it! It is all sun only that he had known the truth. all a 1 along. but that he had been the first of the two to hear it Profitably utilized. Every one of the southern stat a larger proportion of unexkirazed than any northern or v7.5.3 writes Henry Stewart. lions of acres of timber I»: mention those old field: 2.-.?- y. " nature foroa fime, durin: ....:,.~. may gather a fresh sum; " 3 crops by gradual decomgu «iii. soil thus exposed to the in southern fa'rmer is makin: a great ‘ take in this way. So mud: n: " ital is lying idle. and worse than for in many instance “ d I thoughtâ€" l scored by the rains and. cut 13:- . and I thoughtâ€"that if ever I got back 3 :15]: Sissllazf‘ffr‘i‘sfre: I: I°d make her eat her wordsâ€"I’d make 3 . 3‘” “ '” ““3 her come like a dog to my feet. ” to the ocean By the Strain-‘ “Herel Get out of this!” said Stacey. sly upon his raving. 3 for worse. ‘thing 0 pa. ' .LV‘i’. rm. 1 u . . a. people would ca yofirself hidden 5 “Lawyers!” Nor would it be easy she had not a single friend or acquaint- ance who had known her at the time of Captain Conway‘s supposed death. ond marriage she would have written 0 Mr. Lawson, to whom she had only a few weeks before repaid the last installment of the £100. at what pinching effort she alone knew. , but he had just died, and with the oth- h‘ b ’0‘ th er officials of the Red River line she W isper e ween em. had no acquaintance. did not walk abroad there was but very 11 .tle chance of her stumbling against Here, on the contrary, it ble to keep out of I \ in lawyers between man' and wife. ..,.1 way, but what I I married you w cause I was mad about her. fool, but men are always fools in that _ way. I’ve been stuck ‘ rried land for a. long time, w nothing to do but to th won’t wife who scorned me, an 1.4. cc. “23:. At the tifne of her CHAPTER XVI car no MAN PUT asuxnnn. There was only time for a hu on a desert is-g here I‘ve had; ‘ She watched M ink about thei -.‘,- ing for her. would never look for her in such a place as"_that. If he were on her track. he would find her as well at St. Agnes as he would find her at There! r«I‘hat was the last! She shut down the lid 0; her dress basket with an air of safisfactipn. Alan’s portinanteau she had finished hali She would put her hat and gloves the on the dressing table. so that s e to run up stairs and ast. She glanced So long as she . . ,. ° give me over to him? “Never. while I live I" Then the door was pushed hurriedly open. and Edward Conway’s blunt feat the way of any one whom you did not ‘ a Presently she would have tures and burly figure appeared before to drive three miles to the station, not. mercifhlly, along the road to Roathlyn. but in the opposite direction. Still, it possible that changed his mind, and in any case sh we'uld not feel absolutely secure until she was out of‘ the neighborhood, she was (But of this desolation of woods and fields and into the safe shelter of the great city. For one with all her heart she had told Alan when the news of Edward Conway’s f0 rescue first reached her. she had come facqto face with the ter- rible and awful tragedy which would end.‘God alone knew how. she did not from between them. dare to speak. As she'sat there, trying Biarritz. he answered: These old fields may be used ‘3. ing millions of sheep if criy the There’ll be no ‘dog l plest kind of culture were gigs: 50. my 1 There are many cror ” on these old land her pursuér. was almost 1mp0551 breaking in ruthles “Get out of this! to your feet’ about this lady. good fellow, put that out of your mind ! . at once. Take what steps 3911 like I pense‘as would afiord a much ‘ We shall 130’“ defend‘; profit ppr acre tha’n the lands f. 1f what you doucnly 3 with eitheracorn or cotton. y. That’s l ing will immediately stop the we and gullyiug of t and the remains of the manure of the sheep will improve their fertili regular culture again.‘ of sheep will be the salvati; ‘ . . '- ‘EI'J‘. ' an hour before it want to see. them. “at 111:1: It was apparent to the meanest ob- servation that the man was beside him- on. He stood just within Enter a divorce HIS hands thrust deep 11 Please yourse take yourself out of our wa 31 we ask. At all events get out of this I rbom. It’s mine. " “And thatâ€"that is my wife!" “That’s as may be settled in court Get out of my room!” “Not without my wife. " “I promise you you will, and you a. he won only just ~hav ~ u fetch them after breakf at her watch; Oh, he had h'ad plenty of time to get back from ‘seeing the old _ boatman. and’she tttn‘ed to the window to look whether he.w.ere not coming. She Only gave one ’g was at the end of the room and com- manded a full view (if the irregular c‘obble paved street And as Mary’s eyes were turned'to look along it she saw Alan Stacey and Edward Conway walk- ing up the street. self with passi the doorway. down into lis,~.trousers pockets. eying first one and then the othgr with his fiinty eyes, and upon his lips was a ter- rible sneer. “Well, Mrs, Conway," he began st, “have you no sort of welcome e. your long lost husband, given up 1' lost years since, ydur little more than bridegr’oom? Still silent? Have go a good deal (1 you. nothing to say?" Her lips moved, but no sound came was might have ‘ . Desi? héland by the e crops grow until . ' lance. The wmdow ty are Tr": 5”; A.“ t-.. at for afterw ard. ld moment she wished i: d ‘ I w1 mg. . . , south from its admitted 31.: uicker than you like if‘ is due to ovcrprddmiix- if . stableâ€"cottonâ€"an'd the neglect means of restoring fertility ‘ry dinary mefhods of good farming. All through the south there is‘a ‘ quantity of valuable timber 12.1 . which there is an . even now feeds and ’11 l But now that .. , ' t at once. how, come. you don’t get ou f: Iii " CHAPTER XV. To run ni'rriin END: Mary only gave one horrified glance llage street, ere she cowered the shelter of the white “Still silent? No fond word of greet- 0, h d . - .ing? Too much astonished, eh? You to force the egg and t e elicate strips made sure I was dead and gone. didn’t you? But Edward Conway is not got ordergrcwth ¢ r. along the 5a of bacon bit by bit down her throat. ed, yet they lingered in the little fish- back behin ing village from sheer inability to tear di themselves away. And during all this time they had never seen a London newspaper. $v- eral times Alan Stacey had said" in joke a I...) . of cattle and millions c could be kept on these is f profit. for they prices, and in some district afiord ample feed for flocks WiZEOEI help. But by thinning out she recalled the ver first time that she . . , . The man who in law had ever seen himâ€"jhow. he had refused rid of so eas11y as thatl Don t you think ‘1 with absolute scorn to inquire into her character. how‘he had told her that honesty was the dominant note of her he had many times given mity curtains. Yes; it was he! owned her; the man who had bought her with a pfice; the man who had treated her as a. bond slave. He wasnot much changed. His hair and beard 'c‘h W1“; are held at veil 5 they it! Edward Conway has been under for :2 a. good long time. and Edward Conway has got up again, and he has come back again to his happy home and his loving little wife that he left behind him. " f. Y: WI ...q .'..e 3 life; that that they might as well be dead and very buried for all'the news they had of the wer world. and almost every day he declared W88 that he must write to John’hnd tell him to send on the papers. But as Mary did not write it someh‘ow remained un. done. and they continued in their ige norance of passing events. So nearly, a month slipped by. “We rehlly ought to make a move, sweetheart,” said Alan one afternoon when they were sitting on a rock watching the sun sink slowly down into the water. “Yes," said Mary. “but it has been charming here. I don’t. ” with a great sighâ€""I don’t think that the time has been wasted. " “My dear child, no time could be wasted to me that has been‘spent with you. What a thing to say! Of course it has not been wasted. This place has served 0hr tdrn well, but we both want change. you as well as I. Do you-know. timber and sewing these lard: grass the sheep would be eas over the worst of the seascr. i: fofl. The valuable timbe be retained to come into use There are millions of the that angwhere else would twenty or more dollars. can go back for each one. By roads are made. this ti dred per cent profit on and in the me be made 00 W38 5““ as herself aw yby being too honest. by not being able to tell, at the right mo- ment, the harmless, necessary lie. And if I tell the truth I must needs confess that she was at this juncture afraid to tell himâ€"afraid to own that she had shared his life and love while the barrier of a. great secret lay be- ' tween them. She told herself that it I y to carry the news straight to him then that day . when her horrified eyes had first fallen upon that announcement in the papers which was Shaded, "survivors of the; It was not easy then; now it was almost impossible. She felt . that she could not face the look of sur- prise in his eyes; she felt that if every- thing came out. and he should ask her to stay with him. longer ask it as a favor. So more and more she realized the need of keeping it all a dead secret, of hiding from Ed- ward Conway as long e white, but his fa ther beaten as of yore, and his gait the same pronounced sailor’s roll He was apparently talking excitedly ' and was gesticulating wildly with his hands. Alan was'listening, as he loung- ed along with his hands in the pockets of his jacket and his pipe between his teeth. The figures of the two men passed under the window and out of her sight. would have been so eas but Mary stood there like a woman who was petrified. Stood there, holding for support to the frail curtain, waiting for She waited as Marie Antoinette may'have waited under the guillotine. In five minutes it will be all over: in four; in three; in two; in one. It was close at handâ€"about to fall. Yes! She tore herself away from the support of the curtain as she heard a footstep on the stair. tered the ro'om. “Well, sweetheart. are you not near- “You shall never come back to me! I would never have lived with you again! You knew it!" “Oh, you’re thinking still of a bit of a tifil What’s that between husband and wife? Have you never tified with this Johnny that you took up with as soon as I was gone?” “This lady is my wife, sir.” put in Alan Stacey, with dignity. “Your what?" “My wife, sir! again most inopportunely may annul '5‘. CC. had 1' WCSE‘ Ey 5:5 fvest - “a. be worm as the? 5. ‘44; 73?, wre: ... ~ n‘ ‘9: “'1“? “A “Then, my good sir, you. again.” Your turnin I don’t want to make a scene or a row. many hun g up You’re an older man than I am. and I purchase, our marriage, but no slur will rest upon 3323:9213: (ffo 3122:1511 lift :13] 91:52: | thls lady. There ’8 nobody who knows time your presence is unpleasant to me and distasteful to this lady, and the sooner you relieve us of it the better. l flow, out you go!" “There was a momentary scufiie, and . . . then the door was shut and Al up With me. She married me With all . . a - - ‘ due formality and blessingof the church. cey 5 back was against It. He an Until you have legal proof that our marriage be no marriage she is my aniime ah some income may tron sheep fed in these sheltered. $728335 â€" and well watered pastor ' impression abroad that south is overrun by wars. This is far from bein flocks are now runnin the blow to fall. Arikhama. n BS. The: here that will not pity her, and pity uni: part6: her doubly, first, for having been mar- L ' : ‘ ried to you at all; secondly, been the victim of a terrible chain of This lady did not take irisâ€"t: p v‘he case a large on ' hing IO IS “'33" Q for having a, had he could no «at circumstances. an Sta- Then Alan en- population. of course. must be where tracts of I‘ an acres are lying unused. ‘ were on one side of the door and Ed- ward Conway was on the other. as she could and On his side Edward Conway beg two or three times lately I have thought you looking ite careworn. and you have nothing, looking at her anxious- ly and searchinglyâ€"“you have nothing to be careworn about ?" 1y ready for breakfast?” he asked. The sudden revulsion of feeling, the overpowering sense. of relief almost broke her down. She caught hold of the dressing table to steady herself. but of trusting to blind chance and Provi- dence to free herâ€"to free her this time beyond all shadow of doubt. There were still some trivial arrange- ments for Alan to make when they had from several years’ personal of the writer. not a sheep ha in this way. The pee sparse settled tracts mostly and the dogs are Ira: wife. " “She is coming back with me." said Edward Conway. shutting his teeth hard and snapping the words out as if afrantically to beat at the door; then he kicked. and at last, when the stout panels showed signs of giving way. there was a sudden cessation of the. she“ . “Nothing,” said Mary. She could feel the sob in her throat: she wonderâ€" ed that he did not hear it. "I think you are right," she said, after a mo- ment. “and that it is time that we were moving on You have quite decid- ed on Biarritz, Alan?" . his lips were rattraps. “She is never going with you. will never have anything to do with you She would never have lived with you again under any cir- cumstances. You took advantage of her. You bought her with a price. efiorts to enterâ€"a pause, a groan and i sheep, the sound of a heavy body tumbling to the s the ground. ‘ ‘Hush l for a second or two could not speak. At last she choked down the great knot in "““t r her throat and asked him a question. M4 “Who was that you came up the street with ?' finished breakfast, gratuities to be giv- en, one or two little bills to be paid and the landlord's account to be settled in full. She could hear him in the little room across the passage, explaining to He never looked at her as he answer- mine host that he had no doubt as to the honesty of the billâ€"it was no use and will h the pastures with-c... ‘ ing with the sheep. All 1:12". what is known as the mo the backbone of the caste “Yes; they’ve all stopped talking. I United States heep, throng againâ€"never. Something has happened 1’ said Stacey to Mary. “Oh, Alan!” up He was'doing something to his pipe. You “As well as any other place. We ed have never been there. They say it is bright and gay and exhilarating. If we don’t like it. we can move on some- . where else. " (Wk-“”371! Iam ashamed tosay 1" . heard the landlord's voice a minute Twenty-five cents is - ago. I shall open the door. " “Oh. no; don’t. Alan! He may shoot you." “No. no! Listen! He has had a fit!‘ And so it proved to be. The excite- ment,. the great mental struggle and the physical strain to which the un ill used her. but you struck herâ€"your little more than bride And you can ask her when - she has tasted the sweets of a real mar- riage. when she has known what ‘it is to live with a man who would thrust his hand into the fire rather than raise it against a womanâ€"you can ask her to go "Oh, a chap who asked the way: "that was all." “The way to where?" “I directed him to, Roathlyn. He is his going over the items; that he had not the least id‘éa how many whiskies and sodashe had had. and that if he : , had no objection he would prefer to setâ€" half way there by ““3 time. Come, let tle the account without any further ar- , _, , guments. Then she heard the landlord Shihgvcfzdtefihgt “1:951:11; wasdinémense protest that he wanted them to come e W a war onway back again, and therefore he was par- sheep in this extensive same estimate is quite so lowland country, from t highlands to the Atlantic C feeding is needed only in for- for two or three days at 025 .. son]! tiqu " , child“ , “Then we will go home tomorrow ‘2" “I think we may as well,” he replied. So she set about packing up her few us go‘ down‘and get our breakfast. ” l -.. ‘ 1““ a; a“.._..ahi:‘.< . _ v. . .. 1:: v -.. <1? i: 1‘" L 2 v"«' '2, belongings She had taken only the f most plain and simple serge gowns with l this is not required if V in grass which is mowed this occasional need. 811 back to the slavery and degradation 91 tunate man had put himself in trying to force open the door had all done their work. was doing in thht part of Cornwall. She had never heard him speak ticularly anxious that Mr. Stacey should of having ' - - , ‘ , go thoroughly into the bill, so that If been m Cornwall. ”he had never heard there was anything to which he object- for 113." to .. life with you? Think. my good sir. 18 if d 8T iher. A single trunk held everything likely?" that she had. 'She packed a good deal that evening, and in the morning she got up early and finished it ofi before breakfast time. _“I don’t know whether it’s likeIY.” said Edward Conway. “I; know what the law is. and I mean to have it. ” “I Will never go backto him. never!” it was for a change of pasture: h the woodland feeding- of these forests will ' flocks and put them in am When Alan opened the door, to find Edward Conway on the stone wit floor of the passage in a fit of apoplexy. and Mary was practically a free woman. of his having any connection with any one in Cornwall or with Garnish people, and then she reminded herself, half bit- terly. that she had known very little of ed he might meet him at once. “My friend.” said Alan. “you will never make your fortune. Here you have entertained us to the best of your f‘I will just run down to the village,” and Alan. “and settle up with J an ‘Trevethick. and by that time you will be ready for breakfast. " Mary flashed out. “As for you, you jack a dandy.” Edward Conway went on, taking no no- tice of her interruption, “I didn’t know thdt some little seasons .1 f of. " .. » mm” . ' . him at all. But what was he doing here in St. Agnes? It was no use shirking the situation. She must dare and risk all at this jnncture. Nothing would be They raised him from the floor and car dition tied him to bed. but he never spoke or with in unusual showed signs of consciousness again. feted wit For a few hours he lingered. breathing ability. You have satisfied wife and myself, and we are obliged to you for all the trouble and pains that you have been at to givé‘ba h. my emely . hi himpwity. In 3 else in the wide world has “Yes. I shall be ready. ” said Mary, smiling at him. you this morning when I saw you stand- ing talking 3t the old- man’. d002, furnishing gained by cowardice. And. after all. he could never forcé her to goback to - heavily and with labOr, and during those hours of anxious waiting Mary a good time. I am quite satisfied that all more prolific in thebill is all right and that there ianot ,for the profitable raisins 9‘ She watched him go down the villa street with eyes full of pride and lav? .Whet .a man he WanL wan. .52.»... .. â€"' "‘1 ”" asked i ’ ' 3°“ f ’09 knewsomcpeople here staid down on the beach. listening to onrm south. but He could only it the very worst e o w n ' , EL _e;e “m 9363 3h: ”’99“ thchboating of.tho wammjhg .gcnerous‘naturc’l I W 1135 5,351 13 1 her. case wfl‘ would a single item in it to which any reason- able mansions! raise maidenhea- '3... 33’?” ' .. .. w s........... y... . Wm «a. n __ a when...” 7‘ -7... , . . .. www.wmm.. .w.m~.w.flfi..wm ., .. .1... ,