sik ncaeen + you knew," ceplied Jadith. ot walk, he cannot speak, Be otbing he knows of O of beef or men; He is the weakest of the wea! And bas not strength to ober & pen. use ie wants not any. He rules his parents by a c: <a holds them captive a ‘a smile ATES strong through fo fofancy, They euteratand cae. ae In-doors and out, early and late— or, wrapt He governs night and day. Kisses he takes as rightfal due wit Turk-like bas his claves to aa him ; subjects bend before bim a fa one of them. God bless THE DOCTOR. — “ You're almost as fond as mas‘ ir," aaid she. “ It was only Ise night th»: he laid his arms about its neok, as its od with its pswa on his chest, and I do belive there was more than one tear on itso at when he put it from him." “Why, what ipod Jepp doing ‘o be so much noticed ? "’ Letty, a» she led the way into the feee. the dog ‘ lowing close behind, whiniog and an:tting at rd step he went, as though seeh: .g some- ary, nothing in particular, Miss," re plied Judith, ‘only [ gad at parting ; he was always main fond of Jepp—always.’ A aadden “Taintness came over Letty, and she tarned the handle of the door several times before she coald manage to open it. “At paren: Judith!" ghesaid. ‘Did Dr. Lannard Isave Fenmore lass night?" ‘Yas, Mies Letty, and I'd made sure “' He went late in the evaning, and he would not as much as let Joho drive him to the station; he walked off by himself in the duek, with his portmanteau in his hand, just ag any poor lone man might have done.” Doing her best to appear calm, Letty sat down to the table, and poured out a oup of coffee, and while that was being drunk by the tired woman, for Jadith had waiked a long distance that morning, she went bask to the window and koelt there, with one hand resting on Jepp's glossy neok “‘And didn't the doctor call here, Miss Letty ?"' asked Jadith. “No,” replied Letty, ‘ and he hag not been here since Monday last, and be did not stay then, for my father was out.” ‘Well, now, I wonder a: that,” said Jadith ; ‘‘ bat I sappose he is too ill to mind." “Tlt1” oried Letty, with, unknown to hereelf,a ring of terror in her low, olear voice. ‘Was De. ag ill when he went away from home last 2” * Indeed he was, Mies," copied Jadith— ‘'morewore and ill than ever 1 thought to ee him—sach «a fine man as he was, and his father before him—a fiae a manas you oould ses in o long day's ride. And he's a young men, Miss Letty—he's quite a young man atill, though he’s aged and grave for his years mayhap, bat he's kad gore trouble to make him.” “(Yea, yes ; I know he hag,” said Letty. “ Bat I wonder he should go away and be ill. ‘' Well, Miss,’’ apoke up the good woman, boldly, her honest, motherly face all aglow, and one brown, sinewly hand smoothing —_ vigorously, * I think, if I may make d as to jadge, that it is not his body - moch as his mind that is ill and ailing Last night when I saw that he was going off like that, oarrying his own bag, which wasn't right, and refasing in his quiet, sgt Se way, all help from John and me, though he oouldn’s bear to trouble ua, my very heart felt fit to break ; and I pas on my bonnet and cloak, and followed him right off to the station. I dared not let him so much as oatch a flying of me, for you know what a tleman master ia to be obayed, and he had gaid ie as none of us was to go with him ; but I think if he bad gone away like au he wanted, with no one to wish him a ‘Godspeed,’ it would have jaid heavy on my mind to my dying | in day. Sol jast waited about till I saw him § into the train, and settle himself by the window with hia paper to read ; but little, I think, he was heeding the printed words, = hie eyea kept wandering up and down, es if he was seeking for someone, till I fairly trembled lest they should fall on me. Bat forall he looked so, I don’t think be saw much as was going on ; for onoe, as I went nearer to the edge of the platform, @ porter came along, pashing a sani" trunk before him, and 10 get ont of bis way I had to pags right before the window master's carriage ; but blees you, Miss Letty, he never so much as saw m The faithfal servant's syes went brim- ming with tears, and Letty, her face pressed close against the glase, looked ont on the leaden aky and the leaded sea in silence. ‘The last glimpee I had of his face as the train was tearing 5, I shall never forget, Letty—never, were I to live a hundred years; a face, so white, and — and sorrowfal, I hope never to A step sounded in the hall, and a soft voioe . some directions to a servant, and Judith got up, and rubbing the corner of vg shawl briskly across her eyes, pre depart, oe _ voice was that of S Agueten, never looked with a triendly eye sail ve adith. “1 will go now, Miss Letty,” said the ola | lit woman; “ aa Tin sure I een 708 kindly for the coup of egg the time I gee you, you'll hag th pled “Thank you, Judith. Good morning," hope next | fi in,” the Ve a Oningeal’” said Mrs. Atherton. That was all, but it meant a great deal, and —_ knew is did ; but she would not —* it. Atherton rang the bell ee when the servant came, bade her to re- move the breakfast things, her ans imply- ad since. “ fon had better write to Misses Poyn- ton,” she said to Letty. ae she was going out of the room. ‘I thiok it quite time you told them whether you are going or not.” “I will write this morning. Is will do in an hour or eo," said Letty, glancing at her costly little wate, one of the treasures of her brief heirese-ship. She went up-stairs to her own room as she epoke, and once there, locked herself in. The room was as small ae it was the first Letty lay down to uleep in it, had showered apon ber. It looked out on the came little avrip of garden and lonely stretch of jellow sand, with the great eca boundery tine; and there the line ended. In those days the small white bed was dreped with the simplest white draperies, aud on the tiny table stood s tiny painted glass that swung between thin poles de- void of ornament, ana the white boards were sparely covered with atripe of dragget. Now the amall coach was a tiny nest of snowy lace and linen, and on the well- furnished dressing room table a glass, almost too large for the room, swang nicer ite eive oarved pillare. There a thiok, rich carpet on the floor, all a- hoon with lilies and roses on a delicate gray ground, and on the walls hang some re- | excellent, well-chosen water-color aketohes. suppose m vater felt | Alt t its om | oes wae not a prettier, 30: dozier room in ingdom ; even the pale November iighs coming through the sweeping curtains of pink and white that fell over the old-fashioned, deep- seated window, seemed to shine clearer in that room than in any other in the house. Letty had grown acoastomed to all this a ih even ag she had been accustomed to the scanty furniture in the daye “er by; and it made no imp nm on She went and flang herself down on the broad, low, window-seat, and drew the delicate lace curtains round her as care- lessly ae she woald bave drawn the simple muelin ones that ased to hang there. She gathered herself ap in a heap, #0 to speak, and clasped her arms round her knees, aod rested her face on them, and sat there perfeotly atill for = little time. Thers was a great yearning of pity in her heart as Letty thought of thas lonely man, sitting with bis white, sorrowfol face, ane out on Fenmore, in the obill dask a November evening, gray, murky and ssisecaiun She saw, io imagination, that pale, sorrowfal face, as plainly as if she and not Judith, had stood on the platform, and watched it ‘fying past. She felt with a shrinking pain, that the settled look of sorrow on that weary face had its origin in something connected with herself. She loved him too well nos to know shat hia heart was bey cold to her, and again and ain she wished poh this ill-fated money hed never ame to her—that she was still ain, poor Letty. ‘ wT I should know then,” she said, ‘‘ if he loved. He would be free to come and tell me so,if he did; bat, as it is, his pride drawa him back, and we may bed ae each other, and never telling ou Andthen the picture she hed :o rawn seemed so pitiful to her, that she buried her face in her olag ed hande, and buret into passionate sobbing. “Tsball never see him again!" she wailed. “Oh! he might have come and said ‘good-by.’ If only for one little minute, be might have come. That outburst over, Letty got up and brushed her hair away from her face, and .y Blood for a few seconds gazing dreamily at ber own dark reflection i in the mirror. “ It is very plain,” she said, sadly, humbly almost, i thongh in b:ing so she was guilty of soms wrong—‘'ao very plain, it is no wonder he oares little for leaving me. Bat her letter must be written at onos, if at all; and Letty eat down to her little — = write it. Poynton were new-made friends, bat toall sppearancea they were very trae ones; and they had sent the kindest of letters some three weeks before, inviting Letty to their house—a pleasant envagh mansion, by all accounts, standing the midat of its own grounds on the out- axtris of a breezy Yorkshire moor. She had not oared to yo then—she did not care to go now, bat fora very different reason; still, any place w r than Fen. more, she thought, for the time being; and this letter was to tell them when they might expect her. It was not in time for the early ost. When Mra. Atherton came knocking he iy she had to go away egain empty. “ anit itis not quite finished,"’ Letty called out to her from within; but she did not open the door lest bs ‘pale face and red eyea should tell too ;isi uly why the letter was not finiehed “Tt might have been written twice over,” thoaght Mrs. Atherton, ag she leisurely down stairs, bat she said nothing. When the letter was finished, it was such a eorawi that Letty was asbamed to send it, eo she tore it a began to write another. Her mend was throbbing, her hand burning and unsteady ; websing at all was positive pain to her; bat she perse at length to write a letter that tches. n 2° narrow lane cing again to their calls and ories; — om pee stood quietly watching a amtles. def » Savage, utterly miserable, soon attracted Dr. Len- nard’s and help also, when he saw the real condi of the boy. He what no one had ever done before but the dead mother, to whom this little weak- ling had been far dearer than the other seven brown. legged, sturdy urchine all pat together. He spoke kindly to him; he had ing shat they shculd have been taken away - er, | time at Fenmore witdout his lovs moat tamed, they pina about hin and made much ‘of him, thinking more of a soft answer from ‘“‘Oroes Johnny" than they would have thought of a real sacrifice from any other. ihe, then, was the child who, looking up. rmiled at Letty; and the tof thas grove little face, with ite wistfal eyes, once e fierce in their light, glancing up softly at ner, brought De. Lennard and his many kindly —- deeds so forcibly before her that she looked down on the boy through a blinding mist of sears. troop passed by, the crippled lad the laet to disappear, and peer gat looking out drearily, ber heart and brain both numbed with sharp 7 Sbe had no reason for saying 80; she bad never heard it even in the idiest slag gossip, bat she kept re. peating is over and over to hereelf, halt unthinkingly : ‘I shall never see him agai ; he will not come back to Fenmore.’”’ She seemed as one who, standing out alone on some rugged headland, pointing into the ses, saw on one side heavy storm-oclouds drifting ap to overwhelm her, and on the other side the clear light of noon; bat the brightnesa seemed going from her further away every instant, and the dark cload wrack drawing nearer, till she loat all hope of ever emerging from out the shadow of that heavy darkness. She loved Dr. Lennard with all her heart, and he was gone from her. He loved her, she hoped, she knew; still he was gone. What prooability was there thas he would ever care to come back again? The hope of winning his love openly one day had shone down upon ber like the light of a blessed noon, that hope was dying out, it had died. The thought of spending a lite. was & heavy blackneas; and sitting there in her own little room, looking out on the shifting grey sea and the palely shining yellow gands, she felt that blackness surge and settle round her, never more to be lifted up. Hearing the sound of wheels on the gravel, and looking down, she saw the trap stand- ing before the door, svidently waiting to carry to the station. She had forgotten all about the strange letter and this haaty journey, and shs went hastily down now, to bid her father good-by. He stood in the hall, giving eome parting directions to Mra. Atherton, the well- pleased emils still on hie face, straggling through a thin veil of mysterious aly wit ne was warmly moffied already, the da was obill, and the night wosta be ohillier atill, and is would be deep night before he could reach London; bat Letty, kissing him, drew the high oollar of his ooat atill closer round hie neok. * Don't stay away longer than you can help, father. I wish you had not to go at all," she said, clinging to him. “Do you indeed?" aaidhe. ‘ Then, like many another, you wish a very foolish thing. Isis morefor your sake than my own that I am going.” “Qh! father, if +t is only on my account you are going, do stay,” cried Letty. “I would rather have you stay with me than 6 lt thie visit could giveme. Do stay, father. He pus her arm from about his neck, a little orosely. ‘* You know nothing of what you are telking about,” he said, getting into the trap, and settling the rug acrogs his “I ghall send the trap back with Mrs. Hall’s boy. Good-morning, ladies.” He geve the horse a emart touch with the whip as he spoke, and dashed off for the atation. Letty's talking had made it a hard mat- ter for Mr. to reach the station in|, time for the up- nti for London. If he missed that he would have to wait till the next day before he could go. Seemingly he had no intention of or he was making the horse go almost at “fall 8 between the high, narrow h Mre. Atherton went indoors immediatel Letty stood in the porch, gazing wist after her father. Her lot in life appeared very sad-colored as she got a glim of it then—always the same duties, the same weary round; one day the sample of the many, with no one beet her father to live for, an an “Will it never “ond? " ghe thought, ag she stood there. ‘“ Any change mast be for the better.” Presently she went in-doors, and down to the kitchen, to eee that Jane was gues ive ready for the early oe of late Mra. PH Es Atherton bad left many of ne some people might eae ought t0 er own duties, to Letty'’s OHAPTER Vv. “THE WOMAN HE HAD COME DOWN TO MARRY." * Any change mast be for the better,” said Letty, in her weariness, that dull No- vember moraiaog. Ia Letty the only onein the world who bas 20 thought—so ssid? Have we notall, at one time or another, been so tired and siok of the monotony of our lives that we would have hailed any o a relief? | his y change as »| Toiling along in the lowly vaneyi, 3 we rat looked up toward the ah passionate, those glowing summits first, to catch the smiles of the m ve gone to “ “Tam Team going to Halston,” she said, when Atherton at dinner, ‘‘and I @ al- rendagae written to Laura to - she may 6x- pect me on Saturday nex ery , dear," “Fy Mrs. Atherton, smiling,‘ thik you need the change.” That was Toesday, and by Saturday morning at breakfast-time Letty had all her 2 com cor] a boxes were packed an gel penn were all piled tober in ibeball; Letty hereelf, pale and tired- ng, eat at their late penak fant | Ser hair pushed into a ailk net, her feet in elippers, and one of the oldest and plainees of her morning wrap- pers round her. Is was not a very becoming toilet for a young heroine, but then there was not a particle of the heroine tty. every bit as tired as she looked, and three times as m: ; er were lying neatly folded in the hall; her hair would have to be plaited and twisted up artistioslly for the journey, or rather for inspection at the endof it, and what ble than to let it be now, and to take her breakfast in peace and quiet, undisturbed by thoughts y pte visitors or shabby morning wrappers. But the very time we are the least fis t0 be seeen—that ie, thoes among uswho are ever unpresent- able—is juss thetime of all others shat in — one pops in to see us. tty did not escape this fate—why should she? MHeiresses are only mortals, and breakfast was scarcely over when, chancing to look up, she was astonished startled almoat, to see her father pase be. fore the window, Ernest Devereux with him. Mrs. Atherton saw them, too, and settled the ‘ribbons of her cap complacently —she was not in deshabille ; but Letty rose hastily, too disturbed to remember her fatigue; she wasa true woman, and morning dresa was a fright. 8d with a few rapid bounds she esosped up the staircase, ae Mr. Leigh and his companion came into the hall. ‘Why, who is come, Mrs. Atherton?" was Mr. Leigh's salutation to that lady, as sr came gracefally forward to welobens im. ‘No one, my dear sir,” was the reply; ‘but we are about to lose some one inatead. ral Letty ia going to-day on a visit to Ernest sto pped short in his greetin giance aside st the piled-ap boxes, and bes at Mr. Leigh's cloudy face ** Confoundedly bard,” ” he thought, “if I have gone through all the bother cf the past few weeks, and come here only to find my laet chance slipping out of my fingers; I may pack off back to Calais aa soon as I please, after this." ‘Jost like her perversity, and the per- versity of things altogether,” Mr. Leigh was thi g; ‘bat I'll see to it that those boxes are unpacked before the hour’s ont, or I'll know why.” The two gentlemen had walked from the station ; they were dusty and tired, and Mrs. Atherton’s cup of good tea was very welcome to them. After breabfast Ernest Devereux want to room, the same he had occupied when with Obarles Temple on his rag visit. He found a fire burning the hearth, and everything and comfortable. Bat he did not look very comfortable in mind, whatever he ‘ieee be be in body, as he flang himself into the low, ohints-covered rocking-chair, and laying his o 668. | lege over the buffet, sat smoking moosily. His face was pale and set, his hard mouth harder than usaal, and there was @ sullen light in his blue eyes that reminded one ir. resistibly of an animal that felt itself in the toils, and saw open to it but one — chance of escape. one chance speedy marriage with Elizsbeth zak, |e heireva in her om t. Letty Leigh he ony the —— he i4 $ eager to marry. His chance of ever Suing that seemed small enough just at present. The respite hebad | 4 won, with infinite and endle ess m.- +] ises, from the mo re pene Fito and if this throw was but « short one; : failed, he had nothing to look forward to but “ ag in Franos or ag until as his oredito of watobing | for him, gens up all hope of ever getting their dues creme dela creme, a into quite sure the old f Meanwhile, Mre. 0, by Mr. had sought Letty in her own room, whi' she fied on the unlooked- or interruption. She had to tell her that ; he“had frothed |} therton! you can't know how muck I hete it!” * Yes, mes I do pe eaid Mrs. oageot ary and ee will ‘ell a per thas you will let him snow which you willdo, in, gay an hoor's time.” (To be Continued). They Make Goed s«rvants. Boffelo Sunday News: “If I had fifty ogpcrr servants to morrow morning at ‘clock they would all be gone in an hoes, " said Mr. Stephenson, of the Univer- sal Em yment Bureau toan ioquirer the other day. ‘* Why do I epscially advertise to farnish Canadian servants? Well, because they are not afraid to work. They come here and say they want places, and — them right awey i ; they don’t want ta d their money come here tu apply “oe out evenings, a atay a "good while y want the same w rade here that the aaushian girls get. If they have been receiving $250 a week in Oansda they want $3.50 or $4 here. Often a lady comes here and asks for a Oasnadian servant, saying that che has had one and wants another. American girls seldom want to get a place under two or three days after they come, even if they could have jaet the situation they are look- ng for. They will waist sill they bave t the laet cent, and then take the first that offers. They are very pertioa- , too, about the amoant of work they do, and tte kind, and still they want wages. One lady complained to me that her last girl \Amerioas) wanted to go out every evening in the wee and Friday afternoons, and refused to after dinner on Sundays, so that she couldn’s find any time to go out herself. I have an advertisement now in the Oanadian papers for 80 girls. If the Government would allow me to have an agent over there I could have "150 gent over at one time and no difficulty in finding places for them.” At the Mikado's Court, His Imperial Majesty comes firet and all alone. His arm is 100 sacred, too separate, to be taken in public even by ‘the Empress, who comes behind, a email, exquisitely graceful lady, dressed in a mauve satia toilet of Parisian style and mauve bonnet, with parasol to match, all borne with the ee charm _ beocomingnesa. er Imperial Mojeaty, also passin singly. a bevy of ladies of the co an, ai but ‘ 4 aropean dress, and any oy ad ‘adios the giatlemes of the palsce in black frook- — and nr on His Majesty wears the uodreee uniform of a general _ colored trousers and black braided with gold lace, and on the Aes close-out brows a kepi of scarlet with a Hie bow in recognition of all bare bended heads is the slightest possible fclicetine which rigid — “= ‘uae yet withal socoomps: by y, benign and Pall of S sadal soos” will i. his lips almost smile, hia eyes are alert and lighted, his air is, one m almost dare to say, genial, and these nods of the Japanese Jove must be measured by loyalty with a micrometer. The Majors Blunder. ao late Major Barttelot was educated Ragby, where he ig still remembered aa the herc of one of the most delightful schoolboy blunders. ‘“ What is the mean- fog of the word ‘ adage'?"’ was the q which wae being asked by the master. Various shote were made of the usual wild escription, when it ~."1e to young Bartte- lot, who, without hesisation, replied, “A P to put catesinto.” Everyone laughed; and the master, who was as much mystified as the rest, called him up at the end of the lemon and asked him what had pat such an idea into bishead. ‘ Well, sir,’ esid Barttelot, looking very much injured, ‘‘doeen't it say in 6 ‘ Like the poor oat in the adage’ ?”’ A Philaathropist of India. The Times of India recently contained « record of the generous gifs of Harkisondas Narotamdae, cf Bombay, who has placed atthe disposal of the Government the munificent sum of Res. 100,000 for the iat stad constructing a lunatic asylum ‘emales “Four years ago,” writes David bid ost Brookville, Ont., May 1888, ‘“‘ I had @ severe attack of uma and not stand on my feet. The pain was ex- ting. I was red purged in true orthodox atyle, but all to no I was advised to try St. Jacob's 2 01 which I did. I bad my ankles well rabbed and precalinin with flannel saturated with y- In the without President Literary Circle at a recent meet- clearly, and showed so forcibly how very 3 vade hi would be for Letty, tine real extetrene 4. De they ? — sees of the house, to go away and leave a guest to + you ought fo heat my husband when his own resources, that Letty, not | loses convinced, began to feel vary “ Bat,” she urged," I was going before I tion said knew of his visit. He must see that I was, vote ct 100 to 10 they is eae by! sey.” before | $180 a year in him to enje_ Yea, to be sure,” said Mrs, Atherton. | that laxury. The Duchess of Fife gave birth to daughter yesterday. «