The following text may have been generated by Optical Character Recognition, with varying degrees of accuracy. Reader beware!

a% Jobbing of all kinds promptly â€" attended to. ALLAN MoFARLANE, Handâ€"made Waggons FOR SALE The EDGE PROPRRTYT. Brick Dwelling, and many eligible building lots, will be sold in one or mure lots. Also lot No. 80, con. 2, W. G. R., Towushtp of Bentinck, 100 acres adjoinâ€" Ing Town plot Durham. In the Town of Durham, County of Grey, including valeable Water Power "‘County of Grey. Sales attended to promp and at reasonable rates. » Rosidence Durbham Ont Horse Shocing Shop. In the old stand. All haudâ€" made shoes. Also Loan aud Insurance Agent, Conâ€" veyancer, Commissioner &c. Loaps arranged without delay. _ Collections promptly madle, Insurance effected. MANEY ‘PO 1LOAN stlowost rates of Interest FIA® one door unorth of #. Boo>‘s Store Durbara S 0. REGISTRY OFFICER. Thoma *« Larder, Registrar. John A. Munro Deput.y-:legintru. Office hours from 1 a. m. to 4 p. m. JAMES LOCKIE, ALLAN McFARLANE l jflllfl'lll, SOLICITOR IN SUFREME CGOURT NOTARY PUBLIC, Commissioner.etc., THE CGREY REVIEVY BUSINESS DIRECTORY. E:n“ allowed on savings bank dopos.ts of $1.0( upwards. Promptattontion and everyfacil emafforded customers living at a distance. & general Banking business transacted Drafts musd and collections made on all points. Dopor t!hrocoiud und interest allowed at curreni AGENTS in ali principe! points in Ontario, Quebec, Manitoba United State: and Eneland DURHAM AGENCY. REV/EW OFTICR, GARAFRAXA 8ST., DURHAAM TERMS3S; $ par year, IN ADVANCE CHAS. RAAAGE Editor & Proprietor W. F. Cowan, Geo. P. Reid, Presgident. Manager StandardBank of Canada Has opened out a firstâ€"class 4 @ ) Residenceâ€"King 8t., Hanover,. W. L. McKENZIE, BSUZR of Marriage Licenses. Aueâ€" tioneer for Counties of Bruce and Grey. MONEY TO LOAN Thursday Morning. Fire Insurance secured, OFFIOE, over Grant‘s Stone. Lower Town, J. P. TELFORD, lICENSP}D AUCTIONEER, for th HUCH McKAY. Head Office. Toronto MISCELLANEOUS. WOODWORK SAVINGS BANK Apply to JAMES EDGE, Edge Hill, Ont. 18 PUBLISKED EVERT in connection. A firstâ€"class lot of for sale cheap. DU RHA M P taken for art LEGAL â€"â€" &A J KELLX, Agon*, H« bowed his head, humbly, touched by the gontle sadness of her words. There was a world of pain in his eyes, she could not bear to meet them. ed, rather would not " Possibly not. Geoffrey, why do you speak so bitterly? Of course, I am sorry that we have met; such a meeting can do no good, can it? It would have been better not. But since this accident has happened, at least let us speak to aach other as old friends who say a few sad words ere they part again, probably for ever." "You are always right, and I am wrong ! Forgive me. But, oh, Rose, it is terrible to me to be with you !" " Let us walk," she said briefly ; she felt that it would be safer than to stand thus face to face in the solitude of the hills. So they walked on slowly side by side, back along the way she had come. "Tell me about yourself?" she askâ€" ed, presently. " What is there to tell?" he repliâ€" ed, wearily. "I want to know how it is with you, how are you making out your life? Are youâ€"arse you happy ?" the last word she almost whispered, as if halfâ€"fearâ€" ful of speaking it. " You are tiving here?" she repeat-! ed, wonderingly. | "Yes, at Hidden Houss. Did you not‘ know it ? My Uncle bought it, he wishâ€" | ed me to live in the country, part of | the year; he has restored the house, | chianged it completely." | "I had not heard it," she said | qu‘etly and somewhat gravely. " If I had knownâ€"*" | He angwered her only with a groan.| These were things that he felt that| he could never speak about to her ;| away from her he was able to force | his thoughts from the past, but in her | presence he only knew once more that | she was the love of his life, who had driven him from her presence for ever, | and that in that outer darkness where | she was not there could be no peace‘ for him for ever. " What are you doing here? and how do you come to be riding on the Downs? Oh, I s3ee, you must be staying at Codâ€" disham with your father ?" "I am living here," he answered, reâ€" gaining his selfâ€"control, and his voice at the sight of her quiet face and at the sound of her tranquil and naturâ€" al questions. It was Ross who came forward and spoke to him. "Geoffrey !" She spoke his name softly, with a certain cremulous eagâ€" erness which she was unable to hide, and she held out her hand to him. In an instant he had alighted from his horse and was beside her, his hand grasping hers, but he could not speak. Perhaps she read his thoughts, in the pathetic reproach of the sad eyes bent upon her, for she answered him The sight of her was a shock to him, The blood rushed tumultuously to his brain, he pulled up his animal with a jerk that nearly sent him on to his haunches, and then stood stockâ€"still, looking at her. " What in the name of fortune brings you here?" she asked with a smile. So absorbed was he in the interest of his mount. and so intently was he on the lookâ€"out for the smallest sign of any of those.evil things which he more than half expected to discover in his new purchase, that it was not until he was cloge upon har that, lookâ€" ing suddenly before him, he perceived the solitary figure of a woman in mourning garments, standing with a startled face and hands grasped conâ€" vulsively together, straight before him, right in his very path. To The Moor might have been taken for a black horse, but for a slight indicaâ€" tion of tan about the muzzle, nevert ht"‘ less there was not a single white hair upon him from nose to tail. Now ”.“5- the knowing ones tell us, is a sure sign of temper ; and it was of temper that Geoffrey suspected him, and yet he could not actually find it out, nor, m-’ deed, could he lay his finger upon any specific blemish. He had now given him l a pretty good trial, for upwards of an | hour upon the hills. The Moor swung | his head from side to side as he gallopâ€" I ed, chucking it up cccasionally in an uncomforiable fashion,. but this might! only be a trick. Again, he pulled “[ bit. but then he was very freshâ€"and he | also had that sidelong uncertain glance | out of the corner of his eye, which is | reckoned as an untrustworthy sign| both in man and beast. More than that | Geoffrey found it impossible to accuse him of ; he went with long easy swingâ€" | ing@g strides, that carried him swiftly ; over the ground; took a considerable | fence or two in cold blood and without | an instant‘s hesitation, and altogether | comported himself on the whole in a satisfactory manner, | CHAPTER XXXVL Geoffrey was taking the now horse he had bought for his wife in Lonâ€" don for a gallop across the Downs ; she intended to ride him for the first time toâ€"morrow, and he was taking advanâ€" tage of an offâ€"day to give him a trial of speed. his is only a stroke of good luck, but sometimes again it points to an un known and hidden defect, which the owner has been clever enough to conâ€" ceal, and which the buyer only finds out afterwards to his cost. 3 Truth to say, he was not over well pleased with his purchase. There was something he did not altogether like about The Moor, as the horse was namâ€" The Moor was undeniably a handâ€" some horse, big boned, with good shoulders, and absolutely sound in wind and limb, a horse up to weight, too, and yet he had bought him at a comparatively low figure. Sometimes ed ; he did not think, indeed, that had his mind not been so absorbed with other things that day in London, that he would have bought bhim. : . e had known," he interruptâ€" harshly and bitterly, "you perhaps have come so near Y |__"Hush! hear me out. It might be | that it would be the best thing, and yet it is not always that we in our , Ignorance can judge what is the best. |Yet, dear love, whom I have loved so | well, something tells me that never |in this world shall you and I stand thus face to face alone again togethâ€" ‘er. Never shall we speak heart to heart as we are speaking now; so hear me, dear one, and, in the days that are to comse, remember these last words ithat it has been given me to speak | to you." S + 4 \ always want what they haven‘t ot, "And then love is not all! thank God and fiespise that which is ‘their gwn it is not alli It is, after all, but a property." small portion of that dreary road we Angel, who was used to her sister‘s call life, along which each of us must | cynical remarks, and was never very wend his way. It blossoms like the quick at a repartee, took no notice of flowers by the roadside, but it is not| this axiom, but sat nursing her knees, the road itself. We can, if we choose, | with the tears running down her find out many other good things that cheeks, a very picture of wretchedness. are worth living for ; duties to others,| JuPOT® flung her arms about her, all kindness and charity to those about the old maternal instinct awaking us,; and above all that solemn trust, again within her. y God‘s best and hxghes; gift to the "Oh, my darling! what is it that creatures made after His image, the troubles you? _ Surely you can afâ€" brain and the inteliect which He hgs, ford to forget this wretch, this vile given us. Is this sacred charge to be | commonplace creatureâ€"he will never fiung aside as nought, just because w" trouble you again. Did you not say are a little unhappy ? â€" Is this unâ€" | he had gone away !â€"is it not all over speakably precious thing to be hidâ€"| now ?â€"then why not tell Geoffrey and den for ever, and buried in a napkin in | get it off your mind ?" the earth? Geoffrey, love may be to | 881 !1,/ Geoffrey ! Oh, Dulcie, I dare men the greatest of earth‘s blessings; not!" and then she fell to weeping if its highest dream is realised it beâ€" again. ‘"If Geoffrey loved me, it comes the most Godâ€"like thing in the‘ would be different, but he does not universe; but if across its pages L* love me, there is that other woman sad word ‘"Never" chance to be inâ€" â€"his own sister told me soâ€"that marâ€" scribed, then let us not waste the resiâ€" ried woman he has always loved| due of a life that is given us for better What chance have I ?" things in tears and vain repinings, othâ€" But Dulcie only laughed. erwise it will but drag us down, and To . Bs Conlinued its very memory become a curse. (To Be Continued.) Look!" and like a prophetess, she six« pointed suddeniy across the plain, WHAT SIZE DID HE CARRY.: whilst her beautiful face glowed and f o shone with an almost unearthly enâ€"| D» Tanqueâ€"You can put a coup‘e of thusiasm. "Look! how great and how | hip pockets in the trousers Just like wonderful is this World of ours in| my old ones. _ which we, poor pigmies, make our| Tailorâ€"Yes, sir. By the way, were feeble moan. _ Will the unchanging| th« old ones quarts or pints t "Geoffrey ! had God willed it otherâ€" wise, we might perhaps have been very happy together; we thought it ourâ€". selves once, did we not? shutting our eyes with wilful blindness to the many | dangerâ€"signals that‘raised their warnâ€"| ing arms in our path. Then, :1t| length, the flood of our destiny swept remorselessly between us and divided us for ever. _ Yet, if I were to live for | a century, I could never regret the | poor love that I gave you, for the| past sweetness was worth all the presâ€"| ent pain! And you, you will never| be sorry, will you?â€"that you on:e‘ loved me? It can never do us any harm that we have loved sach other truly. In this crue!l world men‘s| hearts are so much oftener prone to | burn with hatred and anger, than with the pure steady glow of the fire that: is, after all, of Divine origin. I He beni his head with a murmur of submission to her will. " Ah, Rose!" it was a cry of pain wrung from his very soul. She held up her hand with a gesture of deprecation. "Geoffrey, I think you are right. The best thing I could do now for you is to cease to livea" Her eyes shrank away from his, she having known could not bear to see the stricken the love you agony in the face she loved so dearâ€" that is good ly. ‘Vaguely, aimost blindly, they wanâ€"| all the highes dered out across the glorious breadth been fed and 1 of landscape beneath, across the great ful nature, an sweep of the curving hills, across the cious mind. tender grey of the plains beyond, that | ways, you h: melted softly in the far distance into| will obey yo the faint line of the sky. Just at the | death. As I s first she saw it all indistinetly and will be your unsteadily, conscious of nothing, saye do that which of the pain at her heart and of the| will try and hot burning tears that welled up slowâ€"; wish. I will s ly into her eyes, so that they blotted ; worldâ€"where, out all save the knowledge of her great may meet | n sorrow ; but presently something else not be asham awoke in herâ€"a dull, dim comprehenâ€" me." sion of the why aond the wherefore of And so the} life‘s martyrdoms, a halfâ€"numbed sense spoken betwee of the greatness of this beautiful world| lingering â€" har and of the utter smallness and nothâ€"| look into one ingness of man‘s poor little hopes and | was over. _ T dreams; and as it dawned more and | to his horse an more upon her soul, there came with woman turned it, as well, a strange, mysterious preâ€"| slight figure science of something so infinitely with bowed he grander and greater than the present| was hurrying passing moments, a something that! upland slopes enveloped her in a sudden calm, stillâ€"‘ And ever ; ness, as though she had been lifted up words rang ir above this Me@n Material carth into| again, with a a world that was better and higher| "Whilst you than the passionâ€"tassed whirlwind of| you are alive, human suffering. I "Oh, God !" s Then she spoke to nim agatn, an:} her voice was sad, yet very sweel an tender. " Ah, yes, dear friend. Is it not the best counsel I can give you, the best thing my love can still do for you?" He stood still suddenly and caught both her hands in his, pressing (hem with a passionate gesture against his breast, and looking down into her beautiful face with hungry eyes, and pale lips, set into hard lines, that told of his soul‘s keen suffering. y " You know," he said, hoarsely, "that whilst you are alive, I shall never love another woman." " Then teach her to love, you, Geofâ€" frey. It will not be a hard lesson, believe me, for her to learn," and she smiled a little pale, wan smile up into his face. " She is your wife, rememâ€" ber ! bound to you by the holiest ties, ties that are strengthened by the same interests and hopes and the same muâ€" tual dependence. Believe me, a husâ€" band can always win a young wife‘s heart if be chooses. Think how entireâ€" Iy her life is in your hands, to spoil or to render happy, just as you see fit; teach her to love you, and love her yourself." * And youâ€"you tell me tnis!~" he said with a strange emotion. "You set me this, task, Rose ?" & not according to his words, but acâ€" cording to that instinct of absolute comprehension which is the strongest and subtlest tie that can bind a man and a woman to each other. . 2o " Life seems very hard, Geoffrey. Do I not know it, too? You have heard, perhaps, of my trouble and my loss Yet, for us both, if we only look for it, there is enough left, is there not, to bring to us a fresh spring of purâ€" pose and of hope? You have the love of your young wife." l y â€"‘*I have not. g'di_if," he said quickly, and a little brokenly. " She does not love me." n ies TORONTO Johe e *"You mean, that you would not have married Geoffrey t _ Well, Angel, then \1 am glad that you did not know it, and that things are as they are. Geofâ€" \frey, at least, is a good manâ€"Captain | Lessiter is nothing but a weathercock, and an evilly inclined weathercock, |__Meanwhile, in the drawingâ€"room at \Hidden House, Dulcie Halliday sat | crouched upon the ground at her sisâ€" |ter‘s side, holding both her bhands in ‘ hers and listening to the story of her mistakes and misadventures. |_ ‘"Oh, my poor, foolish Angel !" she | was saying. "What could make you Angel, who was used to her sister‘s cynical remarks, and was never very quick at a repartee, took no notice of sA EL Tc mt aBinl A 1 . i "Oh, my darling! what is it that troubles you t surely you can afâ€" ford to forget this wretch, this vile commonplace creatureâ€"he will never trouble you again. Did you not say he had gone away ?â€"is it not all over now ?â€"then why not tell Geoffrey and get it off your mind f" Then Angel began to cry softly. "Oh, Dulcie! think of the shame and horror of it, that a man who bas passâ€" a girl by, as long as she was free and cared for him, should insult ber by an offer of love, as soon as she is the wife of another man and beyond bis reach!" Dulcie smiied grimly. *"That, my dear, is no uncommon thing in man. It seems to me, that ‘thou shalt not covet‘ should have been addressed to the male sex only. They always want what they haven‘t got, and despise that which is their own property." _*‘Tell Geoffrey! Oh, Dulcie, I dare not!" and then she fell to weeping again. "If Geoffrey loved me, it would be different, but he does not love me, there is that Oth@r waman too "If I had known it!" sighed Angel miserably. "Oh, my poor, foolish Angel!" she was saying. _*"What could make you believe that I loved Horace Lessiter? Had you no eyes to see that,. indeed, I almost grew to hate him for naving won your heart, and that the offer of marriage he made me before he went away only annoyed and distressed me unspeakably." It was the last and greatest effort of the humain sacrifice of sei$. "Oh, God !" she cried out aloud in her anguish, casting up her desolate face to the heavens above her. _ "If God be faithfu! indeed, and prayer indeed be true, then grant me this, only this,â€" that I may die, so that he may live to forget me !" "You are the noblest woman on earth! _ Always your influence has been with me for good, never for evill If, indeed, as you suy, we are never to see one another again, then to my dyâ€" ing day I will bless the gond God for having known and loved you, and for the love you have given to me. _ All that is good in ms comes from you ; all the highest sources of my soul have been fed and nourished by your beautâ€" ful nature, and by your good and graâ€" cious mind. 1 have obeyed you alâ€" ways, you have never musled me; I will obey you, now, always, to the death. As I swore to you long ago, I will be your ‘true Kanight,‘ and will do that which you desire me to do. I will try and make myself what you wish. I will so live, that, in that other worldâ€"where, perhaps, without sin we may meet and love againâ€"you will not be ashamed to own me and greet And ever as sho went, the same words rang in her ear, over and over again, with a terrible reiteration : *"*Whilst you are alive, never| Whilst you are alive, never, never |" And so they parted, all had been spoken between them; just a clasp of lingering hands; just a tearâ€"laden look into one anoiber‘s eyes, and all was over. _ The man flung himself on to his horse and rode madly away. The woman turned her back and bent her slight figure before the breeze, and with bowed head and tearâ€"blinded eyes was hurrying back across to the grassy Her eyes, Heavenâ€"inspired, were | raised to the heavens above, and a fitâ€"| ful gleam of winter sunshine breaking ; suddenly through a rift in the ciouds| illumined her beautiful face with an| almost superhuman brightness. _ Till} the day of his death, Geoffrey l)ano! never forgot her as she was at |hati moment, with the glow of a glorious| enthusiasm in her kindling eyes, with : the light of the sunâ€"god in a golden flood upon her lovelinessâ€"the spirit â€"within shining through every feaâ€" ture, and the inspiration of her puré| soul reflecting itself in the grand beauty that scemed to be above and | beyond that of the daughters of men. Passionateiy, brokenly, bhe spoke to her, with the impetuosity of a deep and fervent adoration, such as men have felt for the Holy Virgin; such as they rarely feel towards an earthly woman. It went through his mind at that moment to marvel how such a one as he could have dared to love such a woms«n as this, for surely the "cleansâ€" ing fires" of suffering bad purified this great heart inta the refiner‘s most unsullied gold. course of nature, of winter and of sumâ€" mer, of day and of night, be altered, do you think, for all our cries and prayers? Will the grand sweep of earth and sky, of hill and valley, be changed for our foolish repinings, Of will the Potter pay heed to the pots, which in the grand scheme of universal welfare are distined to be crushed inâ€" to powder? Learn Nature‘s highest lesson from her teachings, Geoffrey ! Rise above your destiny, do not sink and grovel beneath it ; take your place in the battle of the world and fight the fight of life for the good of othâ€" ers; not for that small contemptible thing that is called happiness and pleasure. _ Work for others, and not for yourself! Oh! that men would but learn how much greater is sacriâ€" fice than indulgence; how infinitely nobler and more blessed it is to die for others than to live for self !" 19 CHAPTER XXXVII. ce Lessiter? at, indeed, I for naving the offer of #%. Aay person who takes a paper trow the post office, whether direeted to bis name or auother, or whether he has subâ€" scribed or not is responsible for the pay. 8: If a subscriber orders his papor 10 be stopped at a sertaintime, and the publiehed continues to send, the subscriberis bound 3 pay for it if he takes it out of the por‘ office. This proceeds upon ke grorm! hat a men must pay for what he uses. Newspapor LAWs. â€"=8+~ We cal)! the epecia‘ attention cf Por masto‘s and subscribors 4o the following s1 nopsis of the nowepaperiavs : 1. If any porso® orders his paper discor tinued, he muet pAaY all arreages, or the publisher may coxtin® 0 to send it until pay mentis made, and collectthe whole an ovnl whether it be taken from the office or not. There can be no lega ) discontinnance unti ptvmentumapk. Lumber, Shingles and Lath always Jn Stocli. Baving Completed our New Factory we are now prepared to FILL ALL ORDERS PROMPTLY. We keep in Stock a large quantity of Sash, NDoors, Mouldings, Flooring and the differâ€" sagh and Door Factory. lhe eves of the worl Bxed on South American are not viewing it as a , _ _ y \ " _____ 77 CRLPnot be grinsaid. The great discoverer of this medicine was porsessed of the knowledge that the seat of all digsoase is the nerve centros, situated at the bas» of the brain. in this belief he had the best pclentiate and _ medical men of the _ world oocupylnÂ¥ exactly the same preâ€" mises. ndeed. . the ordinary â€" layâ€" man recognized this prineiple long ago. Everyone knows that leot disease or injury affect this part of the buman system and death is almost certain. . Injure the #pinal cord, which is the med‘um o‘ these nerve cenâ€" tres, and paralyst: is BUre to fallaw #* _ _ s OOES 1 der, but oriticel and exr have been studying this mears, with the one res u found that its elagim of (Ive qualities carnot be «.3 4)\ 1. 0 CTUS, Tille pors bly successâ€" ful for the moment, can never be lastâ€" ing. _ Those in poor health soon know whether the remedy they are using is simply a PNs®ing ineldent in their exâ€" perience, bracing them up for the day, or somethmg that is getting at the seat of the discase and is surely and permanently restoring. The eves of the = orld â€" are Uteralv B Greu ts las c en es h ud ! In the matter of go« Iring m asures, twhile ful for the moment, c ing. _ Those in poor t whether the remedy 2 ge ce > 6 ent Kinds of Dressed Lumber tor outside shecting. Our Stock of DRY LUMRE is very Larse so that @ll ordere can be filled. A Discovery, Based on Scientific Principles. that Renders Failure Impossible. WAEN EVERT OTHRR ERLPM HiG MILED it CVRB Beyond Doubt the Greatest Medical Discovery of the Age. TXE HES DF THE Â¥.0T Aro Fixed Upon South Ameri can Nervine. I is ud Comeeee . P Coocg "Of Oe B ""~ Ned‘um 0‘ these nerve cenâ€" should anyone es, and paralyst; is sure to follow. nesw while this Here is the Arit prineivle The trouâ€" eat their hands Wor sare by Mo Farlane & Co n M#A W s# Cmeis _ Woonirg eS *4 ~ ENE X& T '4,””//"“““‘\\\ k"vdf\w { & ,\\:‘\‘\X 94 .o â€"ZERN ‘x. zm ’””Ml(u\\\\\\\\\.‘- hi â€" VE ¢ ;" & j S DU H j ‘.fi“*’% " \\ ‘.‘\ U + k * y \ a e I a Niz * N 7 ” ch sef A \ £_1] / 6 AS 2 p / \ A$4 // :;?.v + l2 .\;’3:\ A &‘ Tug \ C / n l“‘\\ fl MERI E / wen. JA was i y m * ~~" A C V P P o °: PSÂ¥ & [ ou | se 88 f 4#X ) { NERV INE :1‘% P ",l« W ;; éf‘:w ~<,+ â€"N® j .o¥‘ ~'.'/ -’T% t ' ';‘5'43"*’\ e =‘fat.s :% e s Max s s e . :,}a,g‘ Y # Mes ,p-’..'s,"h d e % > Ay ani B2e c ALy ‘Qi; azâ€". h & C 4 PH f / 4 c , & &’9,-\ J '»\\ A < & :4 ‘ poik: i *~a. « Psn C us / Z2 o_3 wl isnn®> es e _ m * 1 )"‘:?:‘.-' 9 Ip» o<t A C h\- ze i _ s We < _: B ‘-\ 4 ' :_: F¢ 3z ~= x 8 PR v a "l\'\‘t \ a v" e ~W P rimv C N % & E* A\ (cn‘" 3 t _ S%% \~ ComA f P y v», > k & 'e T BRA ee) YWez { 3P § %‘3 A<' ”"”‘MI\‘\\"’ " Lgl FAd ~zoge. > ‘ / & Lz P _ ocm M C ® ® K\"' & 12 2299 % e q + â€" Gying this medicine for the one resultâ€" they have ite eJMt:‘\ of perfect curmâ€" 1 MB \_> e# * 8 u?un\\\\‘\ of good health tempor Td _ are Hterally an Nervire. They & nineâ€"days‘ wonâ€" experienced men L&AWS. ~anitkiidicis ) qoepreprier â€"â€" E. =â€"incg x NCLAVINEL 35A 8 * 2. 8 ogt m« 3( S -a.»&x«-. Tt A 1.3 Aie â€" usns se e R@ & BARK\\ 2 mc tm Lo l\ C yuel h Wl % F])) \\ Tiz 8 4 J $sip â€" §\‘ "’;;I.:.‘"'"‘ 1\_{‘;1, ks wouf t DARN® "wh 2¢e> 24 & f . x z. es 3\‘“ T & "J,'\".. P AXâ€" C .-.-;‘;n\\\"" "rradats lsnd Toh temmmaina ns o m lt oo C Pb U QLL4 â€" e oie MX G. & J. McKBECHNIE The eyes of the work have not b*®® dbrap pointed in the inguiry into the #uU@ cesse of South Amerie@an Norvins FPoeoâ€" ple marvyel. it is trwe, at its worderful medical qualities, Lut they know P# yond all question that it dooe «y®"Â¥* thing that is claiured tor it _ It stand# alone as the ome sreat c~ertain curin® remedy of the nineternth oent=ry. Wh»® should anyone sufter disiress and witk* nem while this rem»~‘; i1 praoulomi# a* their hands 1 ble with medical (rsatmeont â€" @=t @&lly, and with nearly all medicines i# that they aim s#simply to tseat the org#® that may be disensged. South Ameri0c@® Nervine passes by the @rgans, and im« mediately applies its curative powe‘® to the nerve centres, from which !"® ergans of the body receive theinr supp‘¥ of nerve fluid. The nerve cont"©* healed, and of neecssity ihe 0°@*M which has shown the sutwond eviceno® enly of derangemeit is healoed Indi« gertion, â€" nervousness, _ impoverish<0 blood, liver compla‘nt all ow* theif nrigin to a derangemes®t of the n* centres. _ Thousands bear tesiim:{ that they have been cured of th troubles, evem when they haove be Bo derperate as to buile ihe #kill the most eminemt physlans, boosa South American Néer.ins has gone he:_dqul.rtm and cure? there. Firstâ€"Class Hearsa. f the Best Quality ) OFAbeâ€"ASboSh NA Uhcaper UNDERTAKJING Promptliy attended t JAKE KRE8S, JAKE KRESS Furniture ssill to be found in his id Stapg oppesite the Durham Bukery, *Seotmipt N h: sw ealed. Indiâ€" impoverishc® l1 owe their of the nerv® ir tesiimony red of thes® *" Why, Angel, 1 rnlly‘ a lucky girl! To think all the trump cards in y have such a grand gam fore you | Chance. indee ‘OIII‘ and pretty, and im fâ€"as good us gold as hawthorn blossom ? amny man could resist to work to try and w would not sit and orvy I would try with al main to see if I coul« of that ‘other woman yourself, defy the spi spiteful sisterâ€"inâ€"law, that it was a wicked you! Begin this very " Do you think 1 co "I am sure of it Ar & grand advantage i ally a man‘s wife. Ob enough, you will suc you I" Then Ange) & sister‘s shou}de, " Duleie," she secrel to tell y I have made a I always thoug loved Horace Le seeâ€"and theref« ecould never love was married, | . would be a good that I could be n â€"since 1 think dreadful man s tried to say d Geoffi eyâ€"somett to me. Perhans to me. Perhag felt, the disgu perhaps it is « bag hurt me, a which is eating know how or w covered all at with him ! Oh fully in jJove !" "Oh, Ange!} ered the blu unfeigned | de have jove as your battle! mor some spoke ; they ed in each Then very face and i« me‘s eyes. " Duleie. " o l(y deal * Don‘t t] â€"but don‘t Geoffrey is Adonis, with flavouring of But all this time 3 a word about her ow Truth to say, Dutle She knew that she w an explosive machine bosom of her family little bit afraid of th fusion she was certa herself. That Duilcie, sensible, should be herself away in a rec dent faghion upon a without hber father‘s would certainly be m in bread and cheese w of it somewhat gallit She felt, too, that re: special reason to sho eye for her folly. If frey now, there wou} excuse. Geoffrey ha charm of jlook and m to storm successfully feminine hearts ; the interesting and poeti fascinating about Ge on earth could there t Faulkner. that a girl And then «t lowly position heartily . of a rueful disgust savages anre im and gigantic st: standard of exee way Indian !" Nevertheless, Dulcie of her infatuation, ar emaliest intention of from her bargainâ€"on from the confession © After her little talk went out and walked the garden, pacing the the newlyâ€"laid out pa of it that her intentios er be kept a secret ; he written to and Ange! must be told. " A hundred and t year," she said alound grim sense of amuser posterous, of course ; were nothing at ali ; t} mantic idiotey vwould feally fuller!" The w« ly out of her mouth, | practical opportunity pirations to their utte liday and « his + The gecond post had | a servant came out al a jetter. It was from very first glimpse s of a most unprecedents a vague wonder at its began to read : ‘ " My dearest Dulci« over between us for ex ment must be broken o dismissed me from th now know why, but th Trichet‘s doing. Of c« marriage out of the qa for yearsâ€"I am a par youâ€"I con‘t write mol bowled over. Your ne« rather you didn'tâ€"M} For some moments staring down silently with no other sign of «lightly heightened « much regret to be oblij three words that fel! s erately from her lips. They were neither 1 fined words, and I on from a strict sense of cause to render a tale ab varnishedly truthful, occasionally, to offend itiee of punctilious pe that the apology I tem measure mitigate the â€" CHAPTER XXXxVIi He is cons id« sake f Diamon doubt of it. 1 m ver could , tha uld i oth &¢ en A d [X8 believe Dujeie d n @ h UQ Di J C 8| € cheas hear «i