pEveverrerT ert frre rveveervererrrrrers © wes ant bt he verter The Coming, of See 5a Pretty --_ Tee 22 rrr T,.. . "On the contrary." Lady Damer gays, vivaciously, "I believe she has softened his heart to such ex- tent--he was pleased at your atten- tion to her, it was very good of you, m--that I belleve you. t any- thing, if jon only go bee right way to rk! He ed to gettio ten Psa money specially on you, because you paid 'Mintie'--such a nanic! -- some compliments and made her laugh |" Lady Damer says, laughing to her- self. "You heard him yourself about the diamonds, and the saddile-horses, and yacht, and the place at Cowes, that is pretty well for a beginning, and we will take care to keep him up to his promises," her ladyship says, laughing again quite gayly, "but more remains behin "You will have eighteen hundre pounds allowed you antil Gillian s herits her money--it does come to her on her marriage, but there is some delay about paying over the money before she is. twenty-one, and does not wish you.to bea inconveni- enced.or to delay your marriage oa any account! He will give her twenty thousand from himself--ten | of which are to ba settled on you; that was the concession because you made 'Mintie' laugh. Gillian is to have twenty more, and forty Wf she is the only. surviving child. So you are sure of sixty-five thousand pounds Bingham--a _possi- bility of eighty-five, your debts paid off, and equivalent in allowances and presents to quite two or three thou- sand more. Rather better than it promised to be a few hours ago, is it not?" she asks, exultingly. "As a mat- ter of fact, you are sure--quite sure --of nearly fifty thousand pounds in hard.cash and its equivalents in less than a month's time, Bingham!" And Lady Jeannette wipes' tears of cetelel relief and emotion from her ayes. And then Captain Lacy rises up nervously, and moves to the other side of the fire, folding his arms, and facing Lady Damer' pale and re- solute--much as he would have stood to be shot. "Aunt Jeannette, I all your kind efforts for my welfare," he says, steadily ; 'I am very grate- have been as me in am sorry to disappoint you and 'dieplease you but--I cannot marry Gillian Deane after all!" "Can you not ?" Lady Damer says, quietly, with a sort of cold despair erushing her and numbing her into quietness, and the heart that some- times troubles her beating | slow and painfully. "Why, Bingham ?' "Because, rg lhe says, desper- ately, "I can't marry a girl whose heart and Pot are full of love for another man. I can't marry a girl who--who--fell on her knees to me --this evening to beseech of me to spare her," Lacy says, flushing. "A girl who dreade and abhors the idea of marrying me, who told me. she would sooner die ten times over than marry me! No, Aunt Jeannette, I can't, and I won't! I don't want a broken argat ran ,Yietim ; I want a contented wife "Yes, yes; I know Lady Jean- nette says feebly, feeling quite sick i and faint indeed; "but why has all this come up now? She and you seemed to be such good friends; she seemed growing quite fond of you. What cause can there be?" "T will tell you," her nephew. says; "andI would -not for © Gillian's. for- tune three times over have heard or know; what I know now a month hence. Half a million would not re- compense me for being married to-a woman who felt toward me as she The cause might have hap- pened any ddy--on our wedding day, erhaps; it makes me hot and cold to think of it--just as we were start- ing on our honeymoon tour! She met her lover, Aunt Jeannette. George Archer has come back to England. and he and Gillian met face to face this evening !" CHAPTER XXXVIL. "Is George Archer at home again! And she met him, you -say%" Lady Damer asks, in that same low, wear- jed-out tone; and her nephew looks at her in some surprise. Her face is always pale save for the irtistic tinging about the cheek bones, now it is ghastly white--dead- white, and the rouge shows up un- naturally. * ger she met Boers I am oucky to Bingham Lac enswers, | Fis turaliy." she Riceg vie a pate castic ring in her weak, voice, trying to moisten her 3 yd ° Pearmeee 7 Na ai ig. At his death | it thank you for' not compr 3 gin ait Sr ok * 5 George Arcler left Darragh in the manner he. 2! "Because he chose," Lady Damer retorts, briefly. " You asked me that question before, and I gave you that answer before. He went because he choose to go." "Now, Aunt Jeannette, that is. no answer at all," Lacy says, determin- "You. knaw the reason that} 9) Gillian edly. sent George Archer away. I'wish you would tell me and trust.me. I would make no bad use of any knowledge And--I want to steel-bright eyes 'barning like fires in her haggard white "Yes, I ao," Lacy aay ys, doggedly, with his hands thrast in his pockets and his eyes downcast.,"'They were awfully spoony--in love) I mean-- she was, at all events, poor iittle soul, and it has nearly broken her gs Aunt" Jeannette." as the young lady, who'is your cunt 'ised wife, confided, to you that her love affair with Mr. Archer has 'nearly broken,.her heart?'" ast Lady Damer, with scornful incredul- My should -- a. if she never oS a word to me!" Lacy says, steadily. "I aiveys knew she was deeply in Jove with him though TI never knew before this evening how far Ht -had gone: And I wisht from my soul, aunt, that, Instead of trou- bling any more about her--uselessly troubling--for I would not marry Gillan, now, any more than I would shool her or poison her, I wish you would play the good genius for those two=that poor 'little girl and the fellow she #ves--adores madly--on my word she does, Aunt Jeannette! TH Leth forget this evening. "The meeting between the young lady ad this newly-turned-up love seems to have affected you certain- ly--turned your brain,.. I should think," Lady .Damer says, trembling _ the: fury that shakes her like ed in'a storm. "Tt did affeet me, Lacy retorts, sternly, honestly, as he has seldom ventured to speak to his imperious" relative. "I eam not ushamed to say it, either. It would have affected you, too, if--you could remember the time when you did not disdain™tuch feel- ings ae an But there is little use in usin g@ any, such reasons or argu- meuts, I know well; I must only make you understand at once and fohever that I .refuse to' have hand, act or part in forcing that poor girl Aunt Jeannette!" 'to marry ma for the sake of the money.:.I 'don't love her, and she is not the sort of a woman I could ever love, though she ig a gentle,-tender- hearteu little creature. I won't*make her Qvretched, te a give a good deal if? T hea to make her happy with the' x, she loves s0 flesperately." "Then, in that case, Ifail to see what obstacles remain in the way of the young lady ~ being ic 'with e man she loves 60 despe , a Ee ooatetie sneers, xyaeth Sairer big lip 8 Oh, nov Rant, tnasi that," Lacy bitterness ; 'you yin "koow better says; with quiet ever, Jeave your work half done. You know weil that you haye'put Gillian and George Archer as far ere' aseyou have put Anne nd mé. Anne's pride heiped you Soh in one case I know and: Ibelleve. George 'Archer's pride helped you equally well in the other." eee dare to speak e, Bing- ham! To dare to taunt me with having sayed you from the foliy you were plunging into!" Lady Damer says, hoarsely. "I saved you from utter ruin--the ruin and disgrace of mesalliance--and thatismy thanks!" "Please don't talk nonsense nbout a mesalliance!" Lacy says, sternly. "You know quite well that Anne O'Neil is your own cousin, tliough in the third degree, that she Is my equal in birth, my superior in evVery- thing else! because you treated her like an upper servant is no reason why I should regard her. as any- thing but one of the best-bred and ard aaa gentlewomen I ~ obiteed | Anr I to understand that there has Veneta been "-a second affecting meeting?" dy Damer demands, with a conyrulsed sort of smile--"that both your . clandestine sweethearts met you and Miss Deane so opportunely this evenin ng. I did end ar ge ere 3 Medias ps thing | Fo ; ' wag there, walking on coolly within a yard, of her, pretending not to see 'e ri 4 { "Mr. Archer |" she said, and he cer- tainly ou, per pretend he had not heard her; the poor child thered it almost in ae sharp page ae eor, ayanes juet' glanced at , took out hia peer, and raised nis hat an inch x) TON How d'ye do!' he eaid, with the coldest indifiesencd in his tone that he could well assume, looking aside even while he spoke to her ; and at that moment a man met him, call- ing out: 'George, ie that you? I've yoko looking for you ev erywhere ? e said, 'I was twice at your of- | flee this afternoon, Mr. Dalroy,' and moved. aside im earnest conver- sation with this other person without 60 much as another glance 'L. never eaw a man be- have in such a manner to a woman before," Lacy says, indignantly--'to a girl he knew well had loved him cher very w have knocked him down with pleasure and kicked him afterward." "Always supposing you were able, 'al y sneers again. "W ell, what happened next?" "She turned around ited like one stunned," Bingham Lacy says in a low tone, *more as if he talks to him- self than from any hope of interest- ing his auditor, "and as she saw me she caught me by the arm. 'Cap- tain Lacy,' she said, 'take me away. Take me away--somewhere.' "A train came up beside us at the same instant, and | hurried her and myself into an empty carriage and the train went on and we saw _no more aM Geroge Archer. "Bu © poor' child; poor little Guiien 3 : declare golemnly I think she went mad for ths time being. She sat there in the corner without speak- ing or moving, staring out through the window into the darkness' with ~ white, wild face, until we came Victoria, and then she leaped up We denly, et me out! Let me out! she said, and she tugged at the door handle. 'Let me out,' she ke pt'on re peating in a loud, wild myself out if I'll kill myself if you don't! Let me out.!' until I wae afraid of a scene, and helped her out, and then she be- gan' running up and down--up and down--looking everywhere for him the heartless brute ! until she had to stop with sheer exhaustion, and then she prayed and begged me to look for iim ~ 'Oh, Bingham, look for him and fina him for. me!' she said, with her hands clasped and the tears stream- ing down: her face, I tell you it wae the most awful picece of business I wae ever in of the kind!" Bingham interpolates; excitédly * 'Bingham, for tha love of Heaven, look for him, and find him for me!' she kept on saying. And I did look, and ran up and down, and . peered into every carriage carefully, and whet I fame back and told her there wae no sight of him anywhere, an the train went on as I was speaking to her, she just dropped down in a ewoon. at my feet! "T had to have her carried into the aiting-room and get brandy and sal volte for her, and then when she recovered we took a cab and drove about a little. as she begged me not = bring her home at once ; and th 2 e went het into. the park, into t Birde: age Waik eat down there for half an hour, and she told me the whole é&tory there, "Did you kaow, Aunt Jeanctte, that she was engaged to be mar- ried to'George Archer?" Lacy asks. "I knew they were lovers; I did not know they were promised husband --_ wife. I did not know all -the ove of her heart was given to him; t did not know he left her without the least farewell, but a letter which sho burned unread, as it deserved. She confesseds+that she burned it through jealousy, for she thought that Anne O'Neil loved him, and that he loved her. Do you know, Aunt Jeanette, how she could receive such an impression as that?" "However she received it, I be- Heved it was true enough,' Lady Damer says, coldly, coon fad now a almost what she may say or Icave unsaid. "IT believe Anne O° Neil always preferred him in her secret heart to you, though of course your infataa- tion flattered lier pride and ambi- tion. I believe' he never cared one H: gave her unmaiden eubtiel and Fal enough o her feelings to she did this ev al It was unpleasant for y of cour fs one of those Xoolish, soft-hearted ecstasies ©) stand Gi wo 8 st vy ie Baap under- hggeannchy es had pk and a, ohi or, or, hotter still, three - or to adore: 'and go into. goes | only ene s ean offer for her, or that accept, is that she has been, indulged to Yh, uttermost by a ting, ed rane and au finteleent father. If & in, they out Sealine ah "ait thought sh get whether he 'wished 'tt 'Moiealt not; and w she didn't get him she has naa hyateribal and pasegres- able over her disappointment in ay of spoiled-child grief and ieane not ere Bogie m or "I believe ber heart is breaking," Lacy says, gravely. "I believe George Archer'a. beliavior to her this even- ing has been a cruel. wound into her very soul--a wound that will 'never be effaced, treat the matter as you like, blame her as you Jike. I am tell- ing you what I believe is the real truth; she besought me not to tell any one of her folly--her 'miser- able folly,' she called it. I knew I must tell yon to make you under- stand how matters now stand--so I made that promise with a. reserva- tlo; but I. made no reservation in promising her what she asked me . To befriend her; to be kind pny brotuerly to her; to pity her, and relieve Pes from ler promise of marriage; and I promised her faith- fully I Said be just what she wish- ed me to be, and nothin ng, more. I promised her--on my honor." "Certainly," Lady Damer assents, lly. "Be whatever she asks you to be until she return to her sénses. You haven't taken leave of yours, I suppose? I wish that-- that per- son had stayed wherever he went, if it were at the bottom of the At- lantic! In any case, I trust Miss Deane has delicacy enough to not make very many confidants respect- ing this insane passion of hers for @& man who does not reciprocate it in-the least !-I- shall be utterly dis- graced if this story come to her father's ears, to say nothing of that shrewd American woman !" "It will not come to her father's ears" Lacy says, quictly, "and, Aunt Jeannette, I hope Ican trust you to remember I have spoken to you in confidence. You will understand, however, that I cannot discuss any marriage settlements or arrange- ments - with Gillian's father; at present," (To be Continued.) + Salil adic iliataladid be ae a oe he de + WHERE ARE THE : co + EMPRESS' JEWELS & Ce Se See ee ae ee a Se Se ae Se ae ice ee a Qn the coast of Corfu a story is told which will perhaps some day pass into folklore, for 1t is of the stuff of which legends. is made Whether it is true 'or not, no oue can say, but the fishermen of Corfu believe it and dream of "1t. When the Empress of Austria re- celyed the news of ler son Rudolf's death, she was wearing a famous neckiace of oriental pearls. That night, so the story goes, the attend- ant whose duty s to care for the jewels, swas horrified to see that the superb pearls had lost their lustre and looked dull and dead. She spoke of the matter to her mistress, Maly in her sorrow did not even sa "x. month or two later the Emprées had occasion to call for ber pearls, and on opening the case found every pearl of the necklace 'a lustreless gray. She called the court jewellers into consullation,' but nothing could be done to restore the pearls to their former beauty. Finally a famous chemist of Vi- assured the Emprese that if the pearls -could be t in the sea forr@iong time the action of the salt watef would bring ba¢k their- color lustre. The Empress went to While there she w one with Father Ambroslus, an d monk. who was her friend and contin. to a wild t on the shore of the island, and there they hid the pearls securely in a fissure under the surface of the water and left. them. There the pearls were w hes the Empress met her evdden and tragic pect Father Ambrosius fell, dead in es, cloister when told of the Gaoath his mistress. The pearls, so ae a tellers say, await a lune somewhere along the ru ae Ne and are Sigs to. be the Capt. Kaas treasury Corin Taking Se story for what H 1 sworth, the fact remains that there are.om record man ay curious instances in ahich denrls apparently .sympa- thized. wi the } of thelr wearers. j iealth and "mood Pearls, too, often ose color and Lae ig Sto for no per ceptible reason. ar many cases -never regain their All through the Orient there are jewellers famous a8 tors of sick and to certain .of these doc-, of great valué are fre- rulers Sisde ts age in ' iB Lhe. ibs with a monogram fe chee a ed on the wrist, or, in the case e long gerbes at top. ; One of the most' stunning shirt waists of the senate of heavy silk .in plain co sth a large ~ monogram ssubreiacted on the sleeve, just above the right enff, and an- other stylish waist has the mono- ita hed the smali ge on the . black and white. wear small but striking embroider- nograms. Linens have, of course, always displayed monograms, if 'the expense did not bar their owner from the indulgence. So, too, there have al- ways , been who sported monograms on hel nina and glass, but Sere say that the fad grows mor & an more common. pe One of the latest developments of the monogram fad is the canéle shade of fine gold or silver conouae with a raised mon nin ase goli or silver on the Midd: "Of the shade. Under these, of Riggs silk shades in any color nray and even a single Sendiontieke fitted out with a canle'an such a shade is no mean present for a wo- man of fastidious tastes and much of this world's goods, A MOTHER'S WARNING. Speaks of a Trouble that Af- flicts Many Young Girls Headaches, Dizziness, Heart Palpi- tation, Fickle Appetité and UVallor the Early Symptvctus of Decay. (From the Sun, Orangeville, Ont.) Hard study at schuol, coupked with tlee lack of attention which every, young girl mergiug into womanhood sluould have, is res sible not only for tbe many pale faces and atten- ua forms met with such lamen- table frequency, but is responsiple also for Use loss of many valuable young lives. First there is an oC-+ casiomal headacne, and a sallowness complexion, Trom which swges, i these eurly symptoms are negiected, the condition grudualiy grows worse und worse, util decline or consump tion sets in und death claims an other victim of purental neglect. Upon moilers especially deyoives & zat reapers as the pag i e iol- towing truthiul 'story a a report- er of che San py Mrs. 0, Hermun, of Yhird Avenue, Egat carries a lesson to other motuers. Mrs. Her- mun said: "About fifteen monte ugo, my daugiver, Kate, while at- tending 'the public school st hard. \e noticed that she began to compiain of headaches. This was followed by a lisilessness and an gt- ter indifierence to the things that usually interest young girls. We con- sulted a doctor, ana ene took hottie after bottle of medicine, but with no benefit, Often she would arise in the morning after an aimost all a quiver and would be at- the palpitate violent! ly, and we were. really afraid sie would not recover, At tuisstage my husband su that we should try Dr. Willams' Pink Pills, and he ught home s6v- eral boxes: Kate only takenthe pilis a few weeks when there wase great change for the better. She grew stronger, began toeat better and to have better color, and from this stage it was not long until she. was again enjoying the best of health and able to resume her a iegeare at school. ight aiso tell that these pills cured my dag Emma of an attack of rheumatism, so that you see we have much reason , and Iearnestly re- daughters may be sulfering as mine ~ Dr. Williams' Pink Pills eure all diseases that have their origin either ina poor or watery conditionof the blood or shattered nerves. It is be- cayse they make rich red blood and strengthen the nerves with every Gose that they cure such troublesas an- aemia, consumption in its i trouble retpirnp o an ed form. Dr. Willan Pink apghy aS one Poses for re vile, Ont. wait alecovers.