my a good many mgtiqulpr; about England to enter a family as compan- ion. in order to obtain a perfect know- ledge of the English language. She had already been to France and ac- quired French; when she knew Eng- lish. then she had been promised a and mother were dead. and she had no brothers or sisters, and very few friends. “'here was she going to? She was going to a place called Roxham' here it was written on the ticket. She was going to be companion to a dear young ady. very rich. like all the English. whom she had met when she had trav- eled with her French family to Jer- 7â€"â€" “\V‘ “You don’t say 50!" said P ‘ ‘Has she come back to Rewtham What. do you. then. know 1 “Yesâ€"that is. I used to three 1 ago. I live in t‘he next parish." H ‘kl ‘L-__ _ we porter. With the innate gallantry of twenty-one he immediately laid him- self out to make the acquaintance of one possessed of such proud. yet melt- ing blue eyes. such lovely hair; and a figure that would not have disgraced Diana; and. with this view. set him- self to render her such little services as one fellow-traveler can offer to an- other. .They were a~cepted reservedly at first. then gratefully, and before long the reserve broke down. entirely. and “u ‘. wsv5v JULIE the reserve 'hroke down entirely. and this very handsome pair dropped into a conversation as animated as the l‘fl-"u L-nl--_ ‘I‘_,. I‘ | , to bid farewell to Oxford for good, and in due course he found himself in a second-class railway carriageâ€"think- ing it useless to waste money, he al- ways’went secondmd bound for Boxham. at college Phillip sa wbut little of George, since. when he happened to be down at Bratham. which was not often. {or he spent most of his va'a- tions abroad, George avoided coming there as much as possible. Indeed. there was a tasit agreement between the two young men that they would see as little of each other as might be convenient. But, though he did not see much of him himself, Philip was none the less aware that George'3 influence over his father was, if any- thing. on the increase. The old squire's letters were full of him, and of the admirable way in which he managed the estate, for it was now practically' in his hands. Indeed, to his surprise and somewhat to his disgust. he found that (:eorge began to be spoken of indifferently with himself as the Just before the train left the plat- form at Paddington, Philip was agree- ably surprised out of his meditations by the entry into his carriage of an extremely elegant and stately young lady. a foreigner, as he judged from her strong accent when she addressed the porter. With. the innate gallantry of twenty-one he immediately laid hun- self out to ' had their origin in the state of his mother's mind before his birth, when her whole thoughts were colored by her morbid and fanciful terror of her hus- band. and her frantic anxiety to con- ciliate him. At college Philip did fairly well, and. being aCaresfoot, did not run into debt. He was, as his great bodily strength gave promise of, a first-class athlete and for two years stroked the Magdalen brat. Nor did he altogether neglect his books. but his reading was of a desultory and out-of-theâ€"way 01'- der. and much directed toward the in- vestigation of mystical subjects. Fair- ly well liked among the men with whom he mixed, he could hardly be called popular; his temperament was too uncertain for that. At times he was the gayest of the gay, and then when the fit took him he would be plunged int oa state of gloomy depres- sion that might last for days. His companions, to whom his mystical studies were afavorite jest. were wont to assert that on these occasions he was preparing for a visit from his fa- miliar, but the joke was one that he never could be prevailed upon to ap- preciate. The fact of the matter was that these fits of gloom were consti- tutional with him. and very pOSSibly CHAPTER IV. Philip went to College in due course and George departed t) learn his busi- ness as a lawyer at Roxham. but it will not be naressary {or us to enter into the details of their respective (-a- teen during this period of their lives. During the three years that he spent W. then. know her?" LI used Ito tb_rge years of t enâ€"éha‘ll sgi‘d Phi_lip. â€"â€" In.†w u 0's“ lUK‘ [1‘ “DD- " And now there are two more things that [will take this Opportunity to say a word to you about. First. I see that you and your cousin George don't get on well. and it grieves me. You have always had a false idea of George, al- ways. and-thought that he was under- hand. Nothing could he more mistaken than such a notion. George is a most estimable young man. and my dear Ebrother's only son. I wish you would try to remember that. Philip.â€"-blood is thicker than water. you knowâ€"and you will be the only two Caresfoots' left when I am gone. Now. perhaps. you may think that I intend enriching George at your expense. but that is not so. Take this key and open the top draw-er of that secretaire. and give entailedâ€"it has always been the cus. tom to entail them for many genera- “And so. Philip, I want you to go about and make yourself thoroughly acquainted with the property. so that you may be able to take things over when I die. without any hitch. I hape that. you will be. careful and do well by the land. Remember that abig property like this is a sacred trust. be an end of Devil (high-76E?" 5:36 vh-é rapped his cane energetwally on the oak floor. “No, Philip; perhaps 0119. perhaps two, not more than two; perhaps a month. 1erhaps. not. a day. My life hangs on a thread now." And he point- ed to his heart. “It may snap any day, if it gets a strain. By the way. Phil- ip. you see that cupboard? Open it! Now, you see that, stoppered bottle with the red label? Good. Well. now, if ever you see me taken with an attack of the heart. I have had one since you were away. you know. and it nearly carried me off. you run for that as hard as you can go. and give it me to drink. half at. a time. It is a tremen- dous restorative of some sort. and old Caley says that. if I do not take it .when the next attack comes. there’ll “ 1 am glad to see you back. my boy," he said. " You vome to take your pm- per place. If you look at me you will See that, you won't haw long 110 wait before you take mine. I can't. last much longer, Philip. I feel that. Eigh- ty-two is a good age to have. reachï¬Ã©d. l have had my timo. and put. the DI'O' p-erty in ordwr. and now I suppose I must make room. 1 went with the clerk, oltl Jakos, and marked out my grave yesterday. There's a. nice little spot the other side of the stone that they say marks where old yeoman Car- esfoot, who planted (‘aresfoot’s Staff, laid his honesx, and that's where I wish to be put. in his gooi company. Don’t flrréez that When tne time comes, Philip. There's room for another. if you care to kqep it for yourself. but perhaps you Will ’prefer the vault." "lou must not, talk of dying yet. father. Youavill live many years yet†5‘ ‘7- 7‘] 0| yesterday. He is a dear old man. though he has such awful eyes. I never felt so happy in my life as l do now. Good-bye. 0119 o’clock.†And shg was gone. leaving Philip with something to think about. Philip’s reception at. home was cor- dial and reassuring. ll» founvl his fath- er considerably aged in appearance. but its hfmdsum-e and Upright as ever, and at my nose and you will soon change your mind. It's broader, and flatter. and snuhhier than ever. Icon- sider that 1 have got a bone to pick with Providence about that nose. Ah! here comes Hilda. Isn't she lovely! There's beauty for you, if you like. She hasn’t got a nose. Come and show us to the carriage. 1"ou will come and lunch with us toâ€"niorrow. won’t you? 1 am so glad to get back to the old house again; and 1 mean to have such a garden! ‘ Life is short and joys are fleeting.’ as Aunt Chambers always $333. so I mean to make the best of it. While it lasts. I saw your father )'_esterday'._ He is a dear old man. tr} all appedrziâ€"x'féé ‘Heartily glad to see tum. “ I think they must teach you to pay compliments 21L Oxford. Philip," she un- swered, flushing with pleasure, “ but it is all rubbish for you to say that; I am pretty, because 1 know 1 am not,†and then, confidentially glancing rgnnd to see that there was nobody within hearing. Hilda “as engaged with a por- [er in looking after her tl1ings;_“Just we met. Do you ream-[ulnar (humps? How do I look! Do you think you will lika me as much as you used to '5†“I think that you are lacking the same dear girl that you always used to look, only you have grown very pretty. and it is not possible that 1 “hi?†like; you more than 1 used to.†“ 0h, t’hi.ip !" she (tried. with a blush, †don’t; you know me! Haw I changed much! 1 shouldhavekmnvn you any- where; and 1 am glad [U see you. aw- fully glad, exvuse the slung, but it is such a relief to be able in say ‘awful’ without being pulled up by Aunt Cham- bers. Just think it is three yezirs sincg "Hilda. Hilda, here I am! How do you do, dear! \Velvume home.†and she was about to seal her “'t‘it'flllle with a kiss. when her eyte fell upon Philip standing by; - suade her Aunt Chambers to accom- ? pany her. but without SUCCESS. that lady Leing too much anaehml to Jersey to ; IeaVe it. During the course of a long ‘stay on the island. the two girls had ' lewme fast friends, and the. friendship had culminatel in an offer being made =b." Maria Lee to Fraulein von Holtz- |hawen. to come and live with her as vompanion, a proposal that exactly suitel the latter. The mention of Miss Lee's name had awakened plea-ant recollections in Phll- ' ip’s mind. recollections that, at any oth- er time might have tended toward the sentimental; but. when under fire from the blue eyes of this stately for- eigner. it was hnqwible for him to feel sentimental about anybody save her- self. "The journey is over all too soon." was the secret thought of each, as they stepped on to the lloxham plat- é form. Before they had finally said good-hye. however. a young lady with a. dainty figure. in a shady hat, and pink and white dress, came running alongthe ylatform. THE DURHAM CHRONICLE. September 23.1897. Take It to‘l’leces «ml Examine Its “eunu- Iul Mechanism. To one who has never studied the mechanism of a watch its mainspring or the balance-wheel is amere piece of metal. He may have looked at the face of the watch, and while he admires the motions of its hands and the time it keeps he may have wondered in idle amazement as to the character of the machinery which is concealed within. Take it to pieces and show him each part separatelyâ€"he will recognize , neither design nor adaptation nor rela- tion Letween them; but put them to- gether, set them to work, point out; the offices of each spring. wheel and cog; explain their movements and then show him the result. Now he perceives that it is all one design -â€"that, notwith- standing the number of parts. their diverse forms and various offices and the agents concerned. the whole piece the cogs on this wheel are cut and regu- latedâ€"adaptedâ€"to the ratchets on that etc, and his final conclusion will be that such a piece of mechanism could not have been produced by chance; for the adaptation of the parts is such as to ahmw .it to be according to design and obedient to the will of one intelli- ; genoe. ' , .. “an,“u “vuuuv lull": ï¬Ullal'c of the water. This is done by means of a l‘eautiful piece of automatic and defi ate manhinery, acting upon small vanes or rudders. This is so set that after it has made its preliminary dive the torpedo will rise, and. after afew osillations, settle down upon the fixed horizontal course for which it is set. The full speed is about 3m knots an hour, though it is desired. the engines may be set to tarry the torpedo a greater distance at a slower speed. Great as this speed it is not sufficient to insure their keep- ing ahead of the modern torpedo destroyers, and for this reason the bow launching tubes are no longer built into the fastest boats. \,VlutJL\/#‘0Uu all Drl Vt†to ejeiz't the torpedo In just the same way as a sheil is fired from a gun. The disrharge of the torpedo starts the propeller engines, which continue to drive the torpedo after it has entered the water. Before it is fired provision is made for causing the torpedo to travel! at a certain. (1ch1 _be_.low the surfave “.3 L I flow This Terrible Engine of War Is Sen! Against am Enemy. As our readers are doubtless aware. the Whitehead torpedo is nothing more nor less than an air-prepelled cigar- shaped little ship, (arrying its own air f-hamlmrs amidships, its propelling engines in the stern and the deadly charge of guncotton in the bow. \Vhen a warship goes into action she carries several of these torpedos ready charg- ed with gum-otton and compressed air. When she. is within striking distant-e of the enemy, one of them is plaved In the launching tube, a long cyclin- der of metal of approximately the same internal diameter as the external dia- meter nf the torpedo, and when the oluevt 1s Within range a small charge of powder or (-ompressed air serves Ln ‘3 A 1‘ ‘ What between thoughts of the young lady he had set himself to marry. and of the young lady he did not mean to marry, hut whose eyes be admired. Philip did not sleep so well as usual that night. u uv wuvu V' ULDUO “ That redc-haired fox has plotted in vain." he thought with secret exulta- tion. And then he set himself to con- ‘ sider the desirability of falling in with ’ his father’s wishes as regards marriage. Of Maria he was, as the reader is aware, very fond; indeed. a few years before he had been in love with her, or some- thing very like it: he knew too that she would make him a very good wife. and the match was one that in every way commended itself to his common sense. and his interests. Yes, he would certainly take his father’s advice. But every time he said this to himselfâ€"and he said it pretty often that eveningâ€"â€" there would arise before his mind's eye a. vision of the sweet blue eyes of Miss Lee’s stately mmpanion. \Vhat eyes they were, to be. sure! It made Philip's blood run warm and quick, merely to think of them; indeed. he could almost find it in. his heart: to wish that Hilda 7 ~ vv mv‘ Philip went out of his father's study considerably touched by the kindness and consideration with which he had been treated. and not a little reliev- ed to find his position with referem-e to his succession to the estate so much better than he had anticipated, and his cousm George’s so much worse. 6‘ mn been wrong; but I have always wished to do my duty by you. my boy. Don’t fOl‘get to make the bait of your time athhggch to-morrow.†“I. don’t think you need be afraid. Phillp; but I won't keep you any long- er. Shake hands. my boy. You'll. per- haps think of your old father klndly when you come to stand in his shoes. I hope you win}, Philip. \Ve have had ‘many a quarrel. and sometimes I have shire stockâ€"our family married into hers 1n the year 1703. BeSides. her pro- perty would put yours into a mug- fehce. She is a sharp girl. too, and qulte Qretty enough for a wife. I hope you w111 think it over, Philip." “Yem father; but perhaps she Will not have me. I am going to lunch there _to-morrow." HOW TO- EXAMINE A WATU I. FIRING A TORPEDO. (To be Continued.) a mass~ of glittering plate, rare flowers and EXQUISITE CHINA. Servants were hustling here and there putting the final touches to the sump- tuous board. when, suddenly there tot- tered feebly into the saloon the wraith of the master! of all this opulence and But from reliable sources of inform- ation a correspondent in London is able to state the fact that Mr. Goele died from starvation. His poor, emaciated frameOwas reduced to the last stages facts are well known that Mr. Goelet suffered thus for four years, and that but for the unremitting care of his faithful physician he might have died at any moment during the period menâ€" fDr. Dawson devoted day and night to Mr. Goelet, watching his every sym- ptom, ready to take alarm at once and fan the flickering flame of life. This vigilant physician was the only watcher by the sick man’s couch during the last hours of his life. Mr. Goelet was too ill to take part in the lavish en~ tertainment offered the Princess of Wales on board his yacht during regat- ta week at Cowes. There was a bril- liant function givenâ€"a luncheon party to Her Royal Highness. The banquet was spread in the saloon. the table was w"- v “vau True, his disease was not called by this name. It is said that he died from a complication of diseases. JJr. Daw- son, the personal physician of Mr. Goe- let says nothing beyond the fact that his patient died from a complication of diseases; the two Drs. Hofl'meister. of Cowes, whose father is surgeon ap- othecary to the Queen. and who carried out the embalming operation. with the aid of two other physicians from Rydm isle of Wight, were equally reticent as to the unmediate cause 01' Mr. Goe- let's death. FRIEND OF ROYAL'IY actually ‘Qiedufrom starvation. â€"vâ€"-"’ w..“ V ‘Vuo (I‘ll: to give feists calculated to make all the old Roman entertainers tum 1m- easily. in their tombs, multi-milliomiire bon vwant, “vw'u I Ogden Goelet, one of the richest men in the United States, a man who sup- ped with princes. and who was able to give feasts calculated to make all lheqolgl Hyman entertainers tum un- â€"vâ€"rw-- I And wlfat mgrâ€"in the irony of fate when it perpetrates the horrible jest wnlqh forces a man worth one hundred mréhons go starve to dentht Was Not Able to Take Any Salli! Foul Whal- cn-r. and Medical science Could I). building In Help IIIII. l One hundred millions of dollars! This is said to be the fortune left by Ogden Goelet, of New York, who recently died in London. Try to imagine. what those figures mean. Think of the land, build- ings. rentals, coupons, bonds, mort- gages, horses, yachts, jewels they may represent. With a hundred millions a man should move mountains and buy countries. There should be no comfort, no luxury on the whole wide earthl that should not be his. ' Starvation ! “What a formidable word. It sug- gests all that is [rightful and cruel- hollow cheeks. sunken eyes, \saning strength. .tottering limbs, a living deeth, hopelessness, despair. AND YET OGDEN GOE‘JST DIES OF STARVATION. WAS WORTH $100,000,000. 'xnelancholy existence. Others reach matnmony but. ï¬nd no solace or comfort than. notima are found in all stations of lifezâ€"The farm. the 08100. the workshop. the pi H19 trades and the professions. .______________ SYPI-IILIS EMISSIONS STRICTURE CURED LATER excsssgs IN MANHooo‘ ’ MAKE NERVOUS. DISEASED MEN untold léoiiea-tvor‘fï¬y 'An-â€"-â€"A :__. _, _____ ate wind-swept waters of the MARE}. One [hundred millwcn dollars repre- sents enormous opportunities. The which young Goelet inherits can scarce- ly be grasped. Probably he himself fails to realize it. It is worth think- ing about. _ -'w-'J It surprised many people to learn that the family will not accompany Mr. Goelet's body to this country. But it is not now considered good form {or friends or relatives of one who has pass- ed away to travel with the body. So embalmed by the same process used in the case of royalty, the dead man comes back to his ngtive country alone. ~vâ€"O .00". 'lubn o A strange voyage this. Unaccompaniâ€" ed save by his sailors, who were devot- ed to the genial. kindly master, the deagmilliangire comes home. __'_'â€"vâ€"â€"â€"- v wwvu “‘11qu Millions oi dollars have for him crumbled to just. thisâ€"a narrow house on a lonely craft. adrift in the desol- ate wind-sweat waters of Hm. Atlgnnn luxury: He surveyed the table with his pathetic eyes and feebly asked: “\\'hat is all this fuss about ?" The mass of the dead man's superb fortune will go. it is said, to his only son. Young Goelet is still a lad. about. seventeen years of ace. He has inherit- ed his father's looks. complexion and hair. He is not a stalwart: youth. T4. _-_ “-â€" â€"â€"' The yacht Mayflower, which was the scene 0 fmany of Mr. Goelet's social triumphs,b whereom he had often en- tertained the Frame of “'ales at feasts that outshone those of Lucullus. and wherean he sank after untold suffering into his last sleep, xyjl} br_lpg him back. luxury: He were designed to supply a model purgative to people who had so long injured themselves with griping medicines. Being carefully prepared and their in- gredients adjusted to the exact necessities of the bowels and liver, their popularity was in- stantaneous. That this popu- larity has been maintained is well marked in the med al awarded these pills at the World's Fair 1893. President Polk in the White House chair While in Lowell was Doctor Ayer; Both were busy for human weal One to govern and one to heat. And. as a president's power of wit! Sometimes depends on a liver-pi! ‘., Mr. Polk took Ayer's Pills I trow For his liver. 30 years ago. “33.01118. FEB-BY. cm FERBYJ Ayer’s Cathartic Pills 50 Years ‘Of Cures, Fifty Years 8 OF FARM at the Mich Durham in Jamm ( a: ' prurerhf. divisiml nfl of the said 'I ï¬fty “(Haw n of ml 3 0W set w nfl‘é der; i and mu tare. ' pmpvr? fruum I well. " ma (1! thitm! Also Everything a which are ONE: PR1 Lower Town, ‘V ( DRYGOOI GROCEI BOOT! SIIOJ Tll‘ "'1' Jul q‘nrnyu 01118 to the BI A!" m'U (1‘ R F. Y ANCE Co.. a INSURANCE no Middangh mm. in the as Carson. A ertv [wing ion of Lot \u amid 1‘0“ u. h 30?“: mare or 01172.3 m-rm under cuttix at There is a IO? pâ€"a \l 0611mm CCDS( I. 3 It