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Many years afterwards he owned, to one who was everhis closest-friend, that a whole lifetime of suffering had been compressul into those few short years that had followed his father’s death. The whole plan and purpose of his youth had been marred; his heart wasted by a passion that was denied satisfaction; and lastly, just as he was beginning to turn to his neglected wife with a. sympathy and interest that promised well for her future happiness, suddenly he found his name outraged and his home forsaken, and the load and terror fif an unbearable remorse laid heavily upon rm. That was a strange winter to Hugh Red- mondâ€"the strangest an! saddest he had ever passed; when he spent long, solitary days in the old Hall; and only Edeâ€"generous, kind-hearted Etle For thuugh [he pqllnrunused by suffering was sli“ Ih- re, and lhnse who saw hnn Enid [hm Slr Hugh Was auroan man, 3% there w.“ n “obit-r expvewion than in had evur Wul'n in happier days '1 huohl fueulul lines around Lhw nmufh were gmw; and, nhough the 9} ea loukul smily round M. the uni familiar fame», as thnugh missing the [ruesn and br-st, still, Ultra was a chmstened gravity about his whole mien that spoke of a new and enrmst purpose; of a heart so humhled at last LhM in had fled to its best refuge, and had found strenth in the Lime of nerd. Elhn- llmi or n unddlrnwwl mun, muihls IHII' hur Ilmt worn uff it. blighll}, :xmkiug hiulnuktrny‘uranlmv;mmi)ebllu:1‘vwns that, in Hugh erumnd‘s Moe, If Margaret, czuull huvu sum if, than waul‘l haVu fiHrd her purn heart with ex«:eedmg thankful- lh SS. It was in those hours of dreary helpless- ness that Hugh learnt to miss his Wee Wifie. In those long summer afternoons, while his foreign nurse nodded drowsily beside him, and the hot air crept sluggishly in at the open window, how he longed for the small cool hand that used to be laid so softly on his temples, or put the drink to his parched lips before they could frame their want. He remembered the hours she had sat beside him, fanning the flies from his pillow or bathing his aching head. She had never left himâ€"never seemed tired or impatient, though her face had grown so pale with watching. Others would have spared her; others told him that she was spent and weary, but he had never noticed it. “ And, brute that I was,” he thought, “ I left her alone in her trouble with only strangers and hirelings about her, to fight her way through the very Valley of the Shadow of Death.” He took out her letter and smoothed it outâ€"it was a trick of his when he thought no one would see him. He had read it over until he knew it off by heart. Ah ! if Heaven would but spare him this once and give him back the strength he had misused, that he might find her, poor child, and bring her home, and comfort her as only he could comfort her. He would love her now, he thought; yes, if she would only bear with him and give him time, he knew from the deep pity and tenderness which he felt that he would love her yet, for the merolful Providence that had laid the erring man low was teach- ing him lessons that no other discipline could have inoulcated. The cold December wind was whirling through the bare branches of the oaks and beaches in the Redmond avenue when Sir Hugh came home' a changed and sad- dened man. Y a, changed outwardly as well as in- wardly Good-Mrs. Heron unied when she ~21W.hitnr,lllr'r the hall on deille’s arm, looking :51) thin and worn and leaning on his stick. Hm )uulh seemed to have passed away; Ins mnOUHI Inn-head was alutaxiy furruwed Nowf thlis thing makes us women 11.11 too miserably ea , But for our dire existence, men would never kill nor steal; In flick, if Eve to Adam the Lord had never given, This 611th had so continued a suburban sort of heaven. Some fool to suicide inclined blows out his little brniu, “Now, mark my wordsâ€"a. woman 1 " every pror phat will exclaim, Or if some fool another fool desputches from this .ife, It’s sigfuificantly mentioned, “ He has a pretty W1 9." Since a. woman was created there has been an uWI ul stlr About the part; sue plays on earthâ€"3.11 blame is la. n on her, Lat any whkeduess be done, at any time or place, And saints and sinners do declare, “ A woman in It all’nmil, a thief my nature, steals his employer lin , And go 3 alone to Canada, the girl was ” left: behind,“ Or if he's seen aâ€"talking with a, woman on the way, “ The woman in the case goes, too,"the daily It occurs to me, however, from another point of View, Had we ne’er been given Adam, we could have a heaven,too. If the world were only Women, we could keep it free from crime, For duvsn't the “ old Adam" work the mischief every time ? It- was Evu who gave the apple that has brought us all our wue; I Bun mm no one there to take 11:, she could never have dune so. Though men will kill and steel for us, because we are so dear, You Sh-Iuld mmd they fix uur value by their own exlstence here. When you come to think in over, one conclueien‘s Very sure, Had they never been created we would ne‘er have Bought to lure Their pour souls from paths of virtue; they .rum blame are not. ex~mptâ€" Do we lead them to temptation, they have tempted us to ramp. With this new light on the subject, rather singular it seems; But instead it’s plainly plural, in reality it means, When the blame for any action to its fountain head you trace, Yuu will ever find a woman and a. man are in the case. lhe unwriainty of her fate sometimes nearly drove him wild. How could she haVe laid her plans so accurately than no traces of her and the child could be found? Could eVil haVe befalleu she-n1 ? God help him if a hair of Lhose immuent heads had been touched. In his Weakness he could not always control the horrible imagina- tions that beset him. Ofttn he Would wake from some ghastly dream and lie till dawn, unable to shake off his deadly terror. Then all of a sudden he would remember that hasty postscript, ” Do not be anxious about me. I am going to some kind people who will be good to me and the boy;” and he Would fall asleep again while vainly trying to recall if he had ever heard Fay speak of any friends of her childhood. But though Erle and Miss Mordaunt tried to help him, no name occurred to any of them. It was an added burden to him that Erle could not come to him; but there was trouble in Belgmve House, and the shadows were closing round it. Erle could not leave his uncle, but wrotevery kindly to poor con- science-shriukenHugh, and said all he could to comfort him. And he llarnt get another thing, as his an“. sluwl) burnt ital If out. and only pnufouml wrrluheulueau mm intolerable uuqnnw remained as In) lllh‘ wife’s funeâ€" suuu Hung llmt mauled hlm with n Hem-1n uf uwertlwns, anl yw slung; tum wuh lllfluilb‘ pun; \\h~n [he llnu Hing yumelme of his loan m1}; memed rur mull hum and would um I. n him rest; when his remorse was tcruiblr; and when he would have givuu up all In: had in the world jum m hear her say in her low fund vuluc Lhub she lur’gmve him all. Fur he knew now that he had wruugrd hrr and that hls negleut- and culduebs had driVeu her from her home. SIR HU Gfl’b‘ LOVES. papers say‘ the ca.sz The Man in the Case. â€"â€"Flora McDmIald “ Oh, it is hard,” she sobbed: “ I kmw how hard in is for you to hear mo my this, but in has to be faced. She neui dL-ueiVed you, dearâ€"she never let; you hope for a. single moment ; she was always true to herself and you. Try to bear it, Percy; try to be glad mat her unhappiness is over. and that she is married to the man she “ Married !” he repeated, in the Fan a dull, hard voice, and there was somethmg in his face that made Fern throw her arms round his neck. “ Married l" he almost shouted, and his handsome. young face spewed to grow sharp and pale. “ Murrivd 1 P511an you are justing, Fem." ” Dear Percy,” she answered, gently, “ do you think I would jenn with you on such a subject. Indeedâ€"indeed it; is true. She was married some ten days ago to Mr. Ferrets, the blind clergyman, who W215 staying at Brlgruve House. He had come there to look for her. He had known her from a child, and they had long loved each other.” “ 011,1 wish you had not asked me.” she returned, clwspmg hul‘ hands; " you are so fund of Ungsml, and in will [nuke you terribly unlmpp); but Inuiher said wv ought to tell you. Peru), dear. There was :wwrmly hope for )uu you know she ulwuvnstuld you so; and now Crystal is married.” “ Do you menu that you have anything special to be.” me 7”he asked, struck by her manner. “ In allolhtl‘ fortnightâ€"vat least they mean to start Lhen;”umlthere she stopped, and looked at him Very piteously. “ How I wish mother would come ; she will non be var) long. andâ€"and 1 would rubber than you hem d in from her.” " Yes,” she stammered, raising her soft eye-s to his face with a pitylng expression ; “ I had a letter the other day.” â€"came now and then to break his solitude. Ah 1 he missed her then. Sometimes, as he wandered disconsolately through the empty rooms, or sat by his lonely fireside in the twilight, the fancy would haunt him that she would come back to him yet-that the door would open, and a little figure come stealing through the darkness and run into his arms with a low, glad cry. And sometimes, when he stood in her room and saw the empty out over which she used to hang so fondly, a longing would sieze him for the boy whom he had never held in his arms. “ You are alone,” he said quickly, with a keen glance round the room. “ Well, in is best, beuuuse I wanted to speak to you. Have you heard from Miss Davenportlately, Fern ?” “ Percy ! oh, I did not' hear you,” she faltered, and she turned a liLLle palr-y and her hean began to heat more quickly. It was foolish of her, but she never heard Percy’s step without listeninginvoluntarily for the quick light trend that used to fellow it, but that never came now. “ Well," impatient-1y, “ does she say when they age coming back ‘3” He than thou 11103335: is nur guud, Aud unblcst good is ill, And all is r gnu than seems most wrong If 1t ha ’l‘hy sweet: will, but almost before she had finished the last line, she was htartled by her brother’s abrupt enty&pce_. But Fern would not have owned that her life was unhappy as long as she had her mother to love her. She was taking her- self to task this afternoon as she sat alone â€"for Fluff had escaped as usual to Mrs. W'atkins’â€"and was blaming herself for her discontent ; and then she sang very softly a verse of her favoritehymnâ€" By and by when the spring returned, some of his old shrengnh and vigor came back, and he was able to join personally in the searuh, whena new zest and excitement seemed added to his life; and in the ardor of the chase he learnt to forget Margaret and the shadows of a. too sorrowâ€" ful past. With her usual unselfishness she deter- mined that no one else should suffer through her unhappiness. Her mother‘s brief hours of rest should be unshadowed. It was a pale little sunbeam whose smiles greeted her of an evening ; but it was still a sunbeam. The sweet looks and words and loving attention were stillalways ready. As Nea watched her child her heart would swell with pride and reverence. She recog- nised the innate strength and power of self» sacrifice that Maurice had left her as his legacy. ” Of all my children, Fern is most like her father,” Mrs Trafford would say ; “ she is stronger than she looksâ€"she would rather die than tell me again that she is unhappy.” When the sweet face of his Wee Wifie seemed to lure him on, with the sad Undine eyes that he remembered so Well; when, with the centrariety of man ever eager for the unattainable, he began to long more and more to see 'her; when his anger revived and impatience with is. And, though hardly owned it to himself, both anger and impatience were born of love. CHAPTER XXXVII. A111 is thz re in God‘s world so dream a place, Where the loud biuter cry is mm d In vain; Where learn of punauue could boo 1am for grace. As on the uprou.ed flower the gemal min Mrs. 'l‘rafford knew that only time, that beneficent healer, Gould Llesden her child’s pain. Fern’s gentle nature was capsble of quiet but intense feeling. Nea’s faithful and ardent afleutions were repro- duced in her child. It was not only the loss of her girlish dreams over which Fern mourned. Her woman’s love hud unuon sciousiy rooted itselt, and could not be torn up without suffering. Au uuerring instinct told her tlmt Erle had not always been indifferent to her; that once, not so very long agq, his friendsoip had been true and deep. Well, she had forgiven his fiekleness. No bitterness rsnkled in his heart against him. He had been very kind to her; he would not wish her to be unhappy. St Luke’s little summer was over, the ripe golden days that October binds in her sheaf, the richest and rarest of the year’s harvest, had been followed by chill fogsâ€" dull sullen days~during which flaring gas- lights burnt in Mrs. Wutkins’ shop even at noonday, and Fern’s busy fingers, never willingly idle, worked by the light of a lamp long before the muffin boy and milkman made their afternoon rounds in Elysian Fields. Never since the night when she had gob- bed out. her grief uu hw‘ moihe-r’n busom, Whtll the uLiei'aiice of her girlish despair Mid luuging had filled 11m mother‘s heart wibh disnmy, never since then had Fem spoken of her trouble. “We will nuvur talk of in again,” she had said. when the outbursb was ovvr; “it: will do no good;” and her mother had sorrowfully uuquiesc d. But she was very brave. She would not look at the future. The cold blankness, the narrow groove, would have chilled her heart. She only took each day as it came, and tried to do her best with it. Anything farther removed from the typical idea of the Elysian Fields could scarcely be imagined than on such an after. noon. It was difficult, even for a light- hearted person, to maintain a. uniform cheerfulness where dump exuded every- where, and the moisb thick air seemed to close round one in vuporous folds. Some- where, no doubn, the sun was shining, and might possibly shine again; bunt; was hard to reulize in ihurd to maintain outward or inward geniuhny under such depressing cir- cunistnnces. Fem had turned from the window with an involuntary shudder. Then she lighted her lump, stirred thr file, and sat down to hrr cumrome'ry. As her needle flew through the canvas her lips serlflrd to claw with an 1Xprkb‘slllll or pnlirnt Baalillt‘Sh. There Were smwowful ulrveu [Int no one ever saw, for Fem kept all her thoughts to her- self. VANITA S VANITATIS. Keble‘ “ True.” returned Mr. Huntingdon, in his harli rasping voice; “ do you not see that the writer says he can prove every word ? And this is my grandson, Whom I have taken out of poverty. Well, well, I might have known the son of Maurice Trafford would never be worth anything.” Strangely unjust words to be spoken of Nes’s idolized Maurice, whose pure soul would have revolted against his boy’s sins. Erle felt the cruelty of the speech ; but he dare not contradict his uncle. What were the Traffords to him now ‘2 There was to be a large gentleman‘s dinner-party at Belgrave House that even- ” Perhaps in is not true.” he stammered, and then the remembrance of his conversa- tion with Percy silenced him. But this was not all. Afterlunoheon Mr. [{unlingdou had called Erie into hls study. and had shown him a letter that he had just received from some anonymous curres- pondent. Some unknown friend and well- wishei' hnd thought is advisable to warn Mr. Huuliugdou of hi~z grandson’s reckless doings. Erlu looked demifully shocked as he read in; and the expression of concen- Grated anger on Mr. Huntingdon’s face frightened him still more. Erie Huntingdon had passed an anxious, uncomfortable duty. Percy’s confession of his gambling debts had made him seriously uneasy. Inwas in his power to help him this once, he had said, with unusual stern- ness, bun he would soon be a married man, and then Percy mun; look to himself ; and Percy, nettled at his tone, had answered someth shorily, and in spile of Erle’a generosin they had not parted friends. “ His last act was to try and save another ; God only knows how far this would go to redeem a faulty pastâ€"God only kimws. Do not cry so bitterly, darling. Let us trust him to the All Merciful ; and, &s the good bishop said to the mother of St. Augustine, ‘ the child of so many prayers cannot be lost.’ ” Betwixt the saddle and the ground He mercy sought and mercy found, and Ruby quoted them softly to Crystal as she wept over the fate of her unhappy lover. Yes. it had stunned him ; the young i11- spent life was over. Did he call upon his God for suocor as he went down into his watery grave ? Who knows what cry went up to heaven ? The old epitaph that was rngchd on the tomb of a notorious ill- ]iver speaks quaintly of hope in such cases, “ It was a plucky thing to do, sir,” observed a navvy who had seen the proceeding, and who afterwards detailed it to Erle Huntingdon ; “ I don‘t know as ever I saw a. pluckier thing in my whole life. Ay, and the poor young gentleman would have done it toc,for any one could see he knew What he was about; for he dived in straight after the child ; and then, that dratted steamer~you will excuse me, sir, but one’s feelings are strong ~â€"what must it do but back to pick up the child ; and the poor fellow, he must have Stl‘llk his head against it, for he went down again. Oh yes I the child was all right, and the young gentleman would have been all right too, but for that nasty blow, it stunned him you see.” ' “Nothing will help me,” he returned, in the same mufl‘led voice; but she would not be repulsed. She swaps buck the dark hair from his forrhedd and kissed him. Did she not share his sufferings? “ Oh, if moLher were only here,” she sighed, feeling her inability to comfort hirn “ Mother is so sorry for you, she cried about in the other nighy _ In an instant Percy was off his horse, and, with the agility of a. practised athlete, had swung himself on the parapet. Yes, he could see the eddy where the child had sunk; and in another moment he had dived into the dark water. loves. It is the only thing that will help you: “ Yes," he answered, “ mothers are like that;” and then was silent again. What was there he could sayâ€"he was in no mood for sympathy. The touch of Fern’s soft arms were torture to him. His idol was gone in another man’s p)ssessi0n. He should never see again the dark smthern loveliness that had so enthralled his imagination ; and the idea. was madden- ing to him. A There was a steamer passing; anda. little had had clumbered on the parapet to see it go by. Either he overbalanued himself or grow giddy, but, to Percy’s horror, there was a sharp scream, and the next moment the child had disuppestred. His reins were hanging loosely on his horse’s neck. His high-spirited little more had been following her own will for more than an hour now, and had relapsed into a. walk, as Percy roused himself to see where he was. He found himself“ on a. bridge with the river on either side of him. He was miles away from Belgrave House; and for the moment he was perplexod, and drew up to ask a. boy who was loitering on the footpath what bridge it was. In a little while he rose, but no speech seemed possible to him. A wall of ice seemed to be built up across his path, and he could see no outlet. ” I cannotstay now,” he said, and his voice sounded strange in his own eurs. "Will you give my love to my mother, Fern ‘2” “Not now; I will come again,” he answered, releasing himself impatiently; but as he mounted his horse, some impulse made him look up and wave his hands. And then he rode out into the gloom. How he loathed himself as he thought of it all. Oh, if he could only undo the past. Young as he was, ruin Seemed staring him in the face. He had aquandered his handsome allowance; his debts were heavy. He had heard his grandfather say that of all things he abhorred gambling; and yet he knew he was a. gambler. Only the preceding night he had staked a. large 'sum and had lost ; and that} very morning he had appealed to Erle Io save him from the consequence of his own rashness. As' he rode on, his thoughts seemed to g)?va tangled and confused. His life was a. failure; how was he to go on living? All these years he had fed on husks, and the tusLe was bitter in his mouth. Oh! if he could make a clean breast of in all. And then he repeated drearin that it was [00 late. “ 0h, do not go," shepleaded,and nowthe tears were running down her face. “ Do stayyvith me,Per_cy.”___ It was too early to go home; besides, he did not wish to face people. The fog seemed lifting a. little. His mare was fresh, and she might take her own road, and follow her own paceâ€"a. few miles more or less would not matter to him in this mood. She had told him that his life was before himwthat he could carve out his own future; but as he looked back on his past; lifeâ€"0n the short tale of his four-andâ€" twemy yearsâ€"his heart was sick within him. ' His fate was frowning on him. His position at Belgrave Hausa had long been irksome to him. His gmudfmher loved him, but. not, as he lowd Erie; and in his heart he was secretly jealous of Erle-if it had been possible he would have supplanted him. Only he himself knew how he had tempted him, and the uulnerfuges to which he had stooped. He had encouraged Erie’s visits to Beulah Place from motives of self- interest, and had been foiled by Erle’s engagement to Evelyn Selby. Black care was sitting behind him on the saddle, and had taken the reins from his hands; and a. worse gloom than the murky atmosphere was closing round him. What a. pitiable part he had played. Was in possible that, such a woman as Crystal could ever have loved him? Had not: his cowardly deaertion of his mother only won her silent contempt? And now it {was too late to redeerfi himself in her eyfii‘: “N'ea,” exclaimed a. feeble voice in her ear. “Nea. he was my boy too.” And looking up she saw the tall bowed figure of her lather, and two wrinkled hands ltretohed out to her. Ah, she was back in She had forgotten his cowardly desertion of her; the faults and follies of his youth. Living, he had been little to her, but she claimed the dead as her own. She had for- gotten all; she was the young mother again, as she smoothed the dark hair with her thin fingers and pressed the cold face to her bosom, as though she could warm the (1611qu chill of death. She was calling him her darlingâ€"her only bgy.» _ But even as be framed the wish the door opened noiselessly, and Mr. Huntingdon raised his eyes. A tall woman with grey hair like his, and a pale, beautiful face with an expression that almost froze his blood, looked at him for a. moment, then silently passed up the room, and with her dress bushing him as he sat there motionless, paused beside the couch. And it was thus that Neu. and her father met again. But she did not notice him; there was only one object for her eyesâ€"the still mute figureof her boy. Silently, and still with that awful look of woe on her face, she drew the dark head into her arms, and laid the dead cheek against her breast; and as she felt the irresponsive weight, the chilled touch, herdried-up misery gave way, and the tears streamed from her eyes, “Uncle Rolf, will you not come away with me ?" implored Erle; “ the house is quite quiet; now, and all the people have gonef’ but Mr. Huntirngdon only shook his headâ€"ha had no strength to rise from his chair, and he could not tell Erle this. The poor boy was terribly alarmed at his uncle’s looks; he did not seem to under- stand anything he said; and what; if Mrs. Tmflord should take in in her head to comeâ€"if only he could get his uncle away. Had he ever forgotten her standing there in the snow with her baby hidden under her shawl, and her sweet thin face raised to his ? Had he ever ceased to love her and yearn for her when his anger was most bitter against her? Surely the demons must have leagued together to keep posses- sion of his soul, or he would never have so hardened himself against her! He had taken her boy from her; he had tempted his youthful weakness with the sight of wealthI and then he had left him to his own devices. He had not taught him to “ wash his hands in inuocency, or to take heed to the things that were right.” Day and night that boy’s dead face, with its likeness to his mother, would haunt'his memory. Oh, Heaven I that he were indeed childless, that none of these things might have come upon him. ing. Some East Indian director was to be feted, and several city magnates were to honor it by their presence. Erle wondered that Percy did not make his appearance, for he was always punctual on such occu- sions ; but Mr. Huntingdon did not seem to notice his absence. The guests thought their host looked greyer and more bowed than usual. and that his step was feebler. He was getting an old man now, they said to themselves ; and it would not be long beere there would be a. new master at Belgrave House. Any one could see he was breaking fast, and would not last long. Well. he had done well for himself; and his heir was to be envied, for he would bea. rich man, and scarcely needed the splendid dowry that Evelyn Selby would bring him. He was struck down at. last! If his idolized Erle had lain there in Percy's place he could have borne in better. But; Nea’s boy 1 What if she should come and require him at his hands! “Comehome with your own Nee, father” had he ever ceased to hear those words 7 He had loved him. but not as he had loved Erleâ€"the Benjamin of his old age; his son of consolation. He had been stem with him, and had never sought to win his confidence; and now the blood of the unhappy boy seemed crying to him from the ground. And it was for this that he had taken him from his mother, that he should lie there in the prime of his youth with all the measure of his sins full to the brim. How had he diedâ€"but he dared not ask, and no one told him. Erle had indeed said something about a child ; but he had not understood any more than he under- stood than they had sent to tell the mother. Erle’s voice, broken with emotion, had cer- tainly vibrated in his ears, but no sense of the words had reached him. If he had known that that mother was already on her way to claim the dead body of her son. he would have hidden himself and his gray hairs. What a beautiful face it was,hethought; all that had marred it in life was softened now ; the sneers, the hard bitter lines. were smoothed away, and something like a smile rested on the young lips. Ah, surely be was at rest now l Some stray hairs clung damply to his temples, and Mr. Hunting- don stooped over him and put them aside with almost a. woman’s tenderness, and then he sat down on the chair beside him and bowed his grey head in his hands, The banquet was just drawing to its close when there were signs of some disturb- ance in the household. The butler whis- pered to Erle, who immediately left the room. and a. few minutes later a. message was brought to Mr. Huntingdon. “ Oh! uncle, uncle, don’t go in till they have told you. Percy is there, and ” but Mr. Huntingdon only motioned him aside with his old peremptori- ness, and then closed the door upon them. He knew what he should find thereâ€"he knew it when they whispered into his ear that something had happened; and then he walked feebly across the room to the couch, where something lay with strange rigid lines under a. satin coverlid that had been flung over it; and as he drew it down and looked at the face of his dead grandson, he knew that the hand of death had struck him also, that he would never get over this â€"â€"neverl Something had happenedâ€"-something dreadful had happened, they told him, and he must come with them at once ; and he had shuddered and turned pale. “ He’s in there," returned the butler, Who‘ was looking very scared, and pointing to the library; and the next moment Erle came ouu with a face as white as death. NEA AND HER FATHER MEET AGAIN. Wheucu arnhuu sent. from us ? Whither thy goal ‘2 ' How art uh .u rent from us Thou than were whole ? As with sew-mug of eyelids and eyes. as with sulvdenug of body and soul. Who shall rqisethea From the home of the dead ? Or what mun rhmll praire thee That thy meSe ma) be sui ? Alas thy beam) ! alas thy budyl alas thy head! What wilt Lhuu leave me Now this thlug is done? A man wilt thou givu me, A son fur my 3011 For the light 01 my eyes, thedesire of my life, the desirable one, Algernon (J. Swinburne. Erle had followed him into the room, but Mr. Huntingdon took no notice of him. If he could, he would have spoken to him and implored him to leave him, but his tongue seemed to cling to the roof of his mouth. He wished to be alone with his grandson, to hide from every one, if he could, that he was stricken down at last. He was growing old, and his nerves were not as strong as they used to be, and he supported himself with some diflficulty as he bowed to his guests with old-fashioned politeness, and excusing himself, begged his old friend Sir Frederick Drummond to take his place. But as the door closed behind him, and he found himself sur- rounded by frightened servants, he tottered and his face grew grey. “You willv kille'e among you,” he muttered. “ Where is my nephew? Will none of you fools tell me what is the matter.” CHAPTER XXXVIII. Henry August von Bulow, anephew of Herr von Bulow, the fnmoins German pianist, is soon to marry Miss Annie Snyder, of Philadelphia. It may interest the superstitious to note that both Gladstone and Bismarck were born on Friday. Of noted men of the past who came into the world on that day of the week may be mentioned Luther, Sir Isaac Newton, George Washington and Winfield Scott. Mrs. Dinah Muloukâ€"Cruik was unique among authors as regards her habits of work. She nevvr begun a. work for publica- tion which she did nun finish before begin- ning another. It is thong-11L that she did not at her death lmwc a line of unfinished manuscript. The man who is too poor to take the TIMES 01' to buy his wife a new dress with. out grumbling is rich enough to afford fine picking for Bohemian out swindlers and pawn: gixucmok frauds. The man who fills his. ice~housé provides himself with a conservator of health and a. scyynnt 0f pleugm’e. Job had mac-h patiencefimt it was fortu- nate {or him that he did not join fences with a. neighbor who .kept byeachy stock: S) stem worked ten hours a. day and was done. Haphuznrd got up at 4 in the morn ing, hurried all day and was doing the chores an half-past 9 at; night. The horée knows all that the colt learned, and b0) 5 tormenting the colt are not teach- ing it what it should know. Better is it; to have one pair of trousers with money In the pockets than two pairs with empty pnckets.” Some men look at the sky only to fore- cast the weather, see more beauty in a. dol- lar than in a bed of flowers, and will hear the crow in a. cornfield quicker than the lurk in the air. _ A mortgage on the home makes the fire- aide gloomy, far it shuts out; the sunshine of Prosperity [1nd freehgartedness. Pure water and a. variety of wholesome food regularly given, with comfortable shelter and kind treatment,are the best preventives of disease. Farm animals are hurt more by medi- cine t-han by the lack of it. When an animal needs medicine it needs a. compe- tent physician. the present again. She laid her boy down on the pillow, and drew the quilt tanderl‘v over him; but all the beauty and softmss seemed to die out of her face, as she turned to her father. “ Perhaps not ; men who talk as you do don’t generally see very far." “ Will you explain yourself, sir ?" “ Cheerfully I You see I know you; you didn’t think so, but I do. You want to be so much better than that carpenter, and I know you are not half as good or near so deserving of the title of gentleman as he is.” “ You know this, eh ?" “ Yes, and I know more. I know your history from away back, and I can assure you that my opinion of it would not be at all complimentary. When I worked at the bench I was just as much a. gentleman as I am now; and if 1 had known it was for you that my workman, who just passed, did the work, he wouldn’t have done ; until you had paid for it. Do you Want to know why ? No ? I thought so.” “My boy,” she answered, “not yours; for you never loved him as I did. You tempted him from me, and made him despise his mother; but he is mine how; God took him from you who were ruining him soul and body, to give him back to me.” “Nee,” returned the old man with a groan; “I have sinnede know it now. I have blighted your life; I have been a. hard cruel father; but; in the presence of the dead there should be peace”. “My life,” she moaned; “my life. Ah, if that were all I could haveforgiven it long ago; but it was Mauriceâ€"Maurice whom you left to die of a, broken heart, though I prayed you to come with me. It was my husband whom you killed; and now, but for you my boy would be liviug.” “I- don’t; see How that can interest you, or why I should make you my con- fident.” “ If he is a. gentleman, I would not hesi- tate to speak to him, no matter Where I met him,” mildly observed the other. “ Oh ! You wouldn’t, eh ‘2” “ No, I wouldn’t; but pardon me again if I am presumptuous, but 1 would like to know if you paid that carpenter for the little job he did for you ‘2” “ Nea, Nea,” he wailed again; “ my only child, Neaf’ but as she turned, moved by the concentrated agony of his voice, he fell with his face downward on the couch, across the feet of his dead grandson. The doctors who were summoned said that a paralytic seizure had long been im- pending; he might linger for a few weeks. but it was impossible to say whether he would ever recover full consciousness again. “ Yes, I noticed it. He is a. carpenter, who did some work for me recently. Those fellows are such a. nuisance; if they happen to do a. little job for you they presume to speak Wherever they meet you. I don’t llke it, eh ?" Mrs. Trafford had not left the house from the moment of her father’s alarming seiz- ure; she had taken quiet possession of the sick-room, and only left it to follow her boy to the grave. Fern was there too, but Erle did not speak to her; the crape veil hid her face, and he could only see the gleam of her fair hair shining in the wintry sunlight. The two women had stood together, Fern holding her mother’s hand; and when the service was over, Mrs. Trafiord had gone back to Belgrave House, and some kindly neighbor had taken the girl home. Erie would gladly have spoken some word of sympathy, but Mrs. 'l‘rafford gave him no opportunity. Neither of them knew how sadly and wistfully the poorgirl looked after them. Erle's changed looks, his paleness and depression made Fern's heart still heavier; she had not known that he had loved Percy so. She had no idea that it was the sight of her own slim young figure mov- ing between the graves that made Erle look so sad. She was dearer to him than ever, he told himself, as they drove away from the cemetery; and he hated himself as he said it. A man pussd by, saluting the enthusias- tic individual, who failed to recognize the courtesy,but continued talking to the quiet gentleman. â€" “ I beg your pardon, sir, for interrupting you, but; a. gentleman spoke to you just. now.” He had not seen Evelyn since Percy’s death. She was staying at some country house with her aunt, Lady Msltmvers, where he was to have joined them; but of course this was impossible under the cir- cumstances; and though he did not like to own to himself that her absence was a. relief, he took the opportunity of telling her not to hurry back to London on his account, as his time was so fully occupied with necessary business and watching his poor uncle that: he would not be free to come to her. Two men were standing on the corner, talking. Both were Well dressed and seemed to be gentlemen. One was a quiet, unde- monstmtive man, while the other was a. very enthusiastic personage. Erle heard them sadly ; he had been very fond of the old man in spite of the tyranniâ€" cal away that had ruled him from boyhood. His uncle had been his generous benefactor, and he could not hear of his danger without emotion. Be Mistook Big Man. (To be enmimxed.) Hang This Up. H. Rider Haggarfl denies that he is com- ing to America. immediately. He may come over next fall. Itis no longer fashionable for girls to kiss each other. This will naturally en- large the sphere of man's duties in this respect, but we guess the men can standit. Grocer (slghing)â€"â€"I know it, but you alone are to blame for that. Servant Gil lâ€"How’a fihat. Grocer (beaming on her)â€"I want to make your burden as light as possible, my dear. Pretty Servant Girlâ€"You don’t give full wejght. Perfume of a. good name heralds the claim that Putnam’s Painless Com Extractor is a sure, certain; and painlessremedy for corns. Fifty imitations prove it to be the best. At druggists. Clerkâ€"“ Yés’m; something for 5. wedding present ?”â€"Lowelt Citizen, Lady (in a. bric-aâ€"brac atore)â€"-“Let me see somethigg handsomg _b}1t cpeap.” _ SYMPTOMSâ€"Moisture; intense itching and lstinging; most at night; worse by scratch ing. It allowed to continue tumors form, which often bleed and ulcerate, becoming very sore. SWAYNE’S OINTMENT stops the itching and bleeding, heals ulceration, and in many cases removes the tumors. It is equally efficacious in curing all Skin Diseases. DR. SWAYNE (35 SON, Proprie- tors, Philadelphia. SWAYNE’s OINTMENT can be obtained of druggists. Sent; by mail for 50 cents. Sécond Bufglarâ€"“ Yes, slip vit in the bag. We can get something for in.” but there is no other remedy for sick headache, dizziness, constipation, bilious- mass, or to restores. regular, healthy action to the liver, stomach and bowels, equal to those reliable little " Pleasant Purgative Pellets ” prepared by Dr. Pierce. Of drug- gista. First Burglarâ€"“Wot’ll I do with this burglar glaim, Billâ€"trike it a]9ng_?”_ Mrs. Brailerâ€"Here’s Deacon Cudds right in front of us, Tom. See what he’s reading. and when the train-boy comes in buy the book for me. It’s sure to be inter- esting and instructive. M17. Brailer (looking over the deacon’s shoulder) â€"La.rry Donahue’s “ Bar-Keeper’s Guide.”â€"Puck Yon sturdy osk whose branches Wide Bo dly the storms and wmds defy. Not long ago an scorn, small, Lay dormant ’nesth the summer sky. Not unlike the thrifty oak in its germ, development and growth, is consumption. But even this mighty foe of mankind, positively yields to the wonderful curative properties of Dr. Pierce’s Golden Medical Discovery if taken early. Don't be blind to your own interests and think yours a. hopeless case. This remarkable remedy has rescued thousands. Of druggists. A Romantic Elopement of an Aristocratlc Youth and a Poulterer’s Daughter. (From the Birmingham Post.) A romantic elopement has just occurred in connection with one of the oldest aristo- cratic families in the kingdom. The chief actor is a high-spirited youth, whose age is given as not more than 17, and who is the only son and heir of one of the county families of East Worcestershire. and whose name occurs in Domesday Book. The father of the youth is a retired captain of dragoons and his mother is of a dis- tinguished Scotch family, a member of which, for his services in the Indian mutiny, was raised to the House of Peers. Three months ago the young heir was in- troduced at the close of a boating excursion by the private secretary of his father to a barmaid aged between 21 and 22, at a wine and spirit vault in Stourbridge, whom the secretary pronounced “ the prettiest girl in England.” It was an affair of “love at first sight," and the young fellow de- ,clared he would never marry any lone else. A friendship sprang up, and family entreaties and threats were alike in vain. The young man declared that if his wishes were thwarted he would end his life with a revolver. At this time he was on a vacation from his college at Cirencester. The family communicated with the detective police of Birmingham, and for weeks past private detectives have watched the barmaid‘s movements night and day. She is the daughter of a poulterer living in Wolverhampton. Detectives, solicitors, and clergyman have also visited the girl's home on behalf of the family to try to obtain information of the heir’s whereabouts, for it was discovered that he had run away from college. Very little in- formation was, however, forthcoming, and, though one interview was secured at the hotel between the young man and his mother, the only result was his declaration that if he were taken by force he would be taken home on a stretcher. Authentic news was received on Sunday that the couple had sloped and had been married at, it is be- lieved, a country church near Liverpool. The bride has herself communicated thisin- ‘ formation and has asked for forgiveness. The young heir‘s family are naturally greatly concerned. The young fellow has, during ‘ the latter part of the proceedings, backed up his independence by putting forward “ his solicitor ” when it hasbeen threatened by his family. An attempt to secure a special license only a few days before the success- ful elopement was frustrated by the registrar happening to possess private in- formation of hov he matter stood. In his Isecond attempt, r ., ter, he seems to have been more fortuna‘ Mrs. Cleveland has been making all of her bonnets this fall, thus setting an example which will alienate the support of every milliner in the land. But it makes all the husbands solid, and, mind you, it’s the husbands that have the votes, not the milliners.â€"Chicago Herald. Most women naturally look forward to matrimony as their proper sphere in life, but they should constantly bear in mind that fair, rosy face, bright eyes, and a healthy, well-developed form, are the best passports to a hap_ y marriage. All those wasting disorders, weaknesses, “ dragging- down ” sensations, and functional irregu- larities peculiar to their sex, have an unfail- ing specific in Dr. Pierce’s Favorite Preâ€" scription. It is the only medicine for women, sold by druggists, under a positive guarantee from the manufactuers, that it will give satisfaction in every case, or money will be refunded. This guarantee has been printed on the bottle-wrapper and faithfully carried out for many years. In connection Wivh the announcement of the romantic elopeynent the following ad- vertisements, take/h from local papers, will be read with interest, as supplying the needed key : “ Foster-Devittâ€"On the 26th inst., at St. Mark’s, Winahall, Derbyshire, by Rev. G. Clarke, Percy Reginald, only son of Capt. Foster, Stourton Court, Stout- bridge, to Alice Dom, youngest daughter of John F. Devitt.Wolverhampton.” “Notice â€"-Ca.pt. Foster, of Stourton Court, near Stourbridge, hereby gives notice that he will not be responsible for any debts his son. Percival Reginald Foster, may contract.” RAN AWAY Wt’l‘fl A BARMAID. Mrs. Cleveland's Able Move. He Knew His Business. They Leave Nothing. The Far Reaching ITCHING PILES. In Love's Harness. Suit Yourself, In Maine, _.....,, .....-..~ ['NO SlL'KN'Sn'a “vi-long fl‘hdy‘ lwnrr R my remedy lo cure the worm. vnqen. Becnune others luvs failed In In.- reaaon for um now receiving a cure. Send at once lor I treatise and a. Free Bottle 01 my Infnllllxle remedy. GI" Express and Post (mica. n can," you nothan for a trial. Ind I will sure you. Address DB. H. G. BOOT, a. . A- _ .. . ._ . man Uflice, 37'Ybi1fié'StJT'émnm. mdcthe gisenieoipl'x mu “1:11AM: When 1 any cure I do not mean merely [0:20]: lh‘em fax ; ; “me and men Imv», them rezur I‘luwzgl a mdlcnl 3W? fiflml"? F6335? rmrmm WERE HIM For llfi. Cash fu ruisua 1 on satisfactory guarnutj Addwsa C. 8. PAGE, Hyda Park, Venn mm. 0. I AND TRADERS GENERALLY, We Want a GOOD MAN in your locality to pick " R0 MEG AND JULIET " MODERNIZEDI What Was Revealed in a Recent London Tragedy. The Pall Mall Gazette says that many people have thought that Shakspesre strained probability a littletoo far in the incidents which close the tragedy of “ Romeo and Juliet.” A case investigated before the coroner for Central Middlesex on Wednesday shows that similar incidents actually occur in real life. An elderly Frenchman, separated from his wife, tool a. young French lady vocalist into his bone at Euston Square as his mistress. On Tuesday morning early the man swallowed poison, and seemed to be dying. His mis- tress. terrified at being left alone in the world in s discredited position, seized the poison bottle and drunk a deadly draught. She died. The man recovered, and dis- covered to his horror that his Juliet was dead. After trying in vain to resuscitate her he seized a revolver and shot himself through the heart. This occurred, not in the tombs of the Cupulets in the ancient city of Verona. in the middle ages, but in 12 Euston Square last Tuesday morning. Romeo‘s rume was Ernest Carlin and Juliet’s Jane Hures. ELI ROBBINS. Rum/an P. 0.. Columbia, (70.. Pa.. says: “My daughter had cutarx‘h when she was five years old. very badly. I saw Dr. Sage’s Catarrh Remedy advertised, and pro- cured a bottle for her. and soon saw that it helped her; a third bottle effected a perma- nent cure. She is now eighteen years old and sound and hearty." lhavnn punitive mumb- <or rhu ulmvodiaeasu; b "a use thnuanmla chums ut the worst kin ! nu‘ oflong standing have been cum-r1. Indeed, so strum: flv faith 11) HI affirucy, that l wi I send TWO BU'I'TLE‘ . together with A VALUABLE TREATISE on till! MM“ '0 In] Miner. Give expren md P )Laqdrelg. Branch om§§;é'7‘§’a‘i§§"é’3t,wmto This institution which had last year the largest enrolment of all the Canadian Colleges for women is offering superior advantages to young women in Literary Course. Fine Arts, Commercial Science and Music at the very lowest rates. Prof. W. HAUSNER, the famous mosmerist. of ltlmm. N. Y., writes: “ Some ten years ago I snfi‘orcd untold agony from chronic nasal outurrh. My family physician gave me up as incurable, and said I must die. My case was such a bad one, that every day towards sun- set. my voice would become so thoarse I could barely speak above 5L Whisper. In the mornin my coughing and clearing of my throat woul almost strangle me. By the use of Dr. Sage's Catm‘rh Remedy, in three months, I was a well man, and the cure has been permanent.” “Constantly Hawking and Spitting.” THOMAS J. BUSHING, Esq” 2902 Pine Street, St. Louis, Mm. writes: “I was a great sufferer from catarrh for three years. At times 1 con] hardly breathe, and was constant) hawk' and spitting. and for the last eig t mou could not breathe through the nostrils. "1‘ thought nothing enuld be done for me. Luckâ€" ily, 1 was advised to try Dr. Sage's Cuturrh Remedy. and 1 am now a well man. I believe it, to he the only sure remedy for catarrh now manufactured, and one has only to give it a fair trial to experience astounding results and a permanent cure.” “ Mamma,” said a young lady just home from school and gazing upon Alexander Harrison’s “Open Sea,” “ is this an oil painting or a water color ‘2” “ Sh,” answered her mother, with a. look of surprise and chagrin. “ It’s a. water color. Don’t you see the water ?”â€"Chicago Tribune. By its mild. soothing, and healing properties. Dr. Sage's Catarrh Ronde euros the worst cases of Catarrh, “ cold in the head,” Corgiza, and Cztgarrlnznl'lleaq§clle. L. W. Giddinga, Superintendent of the Rio Grande and Pecos Railroad, rejoices in the possession of a. daughter born at Ga]- veston on Saturday. In is the first girl child born in the Giddings family for over 120 years. passages, discharges falling from the head into the throat, sometimes profuse, watery, and nerid, at others, thick. tenacious, mucous, purulent, bloody and putrid; the eyes are weak, watery‘ and inflamed; there is ringing in the ears. deafiiess, hacking or coughing to clear the throat, expeetomtion of offensive matter, togeLher with scabs from ulcers; the voice is changed and has a. nasal twang; the breath is offensive; smell and taste are im- paired; there is a sensation of dizziness. with mental depression, a. hacking cough and gen- eral dehility. Only a few of 1110 above-named symptoms are lilnely to be present in any one case. Thousands of cases annually, without manifesting half of the above sym toms, re- sult in consumption. and end in t e grave. N 0 disease is so common, more deceptive and dangerous. or less‘understgod by physicians. heafi} hegqfi‘qfig. (ifsgruptloq of the Bilioue Headache, Dizzinesn, Constipa- tl on, liid igrestiou. Bllious Attachmandall derangemente of the stom- ach and bowels. are prompt- ly relieved and permanently cured by the use of Dr. Pierce 5 Pleasant Purgallve Pellets. ln explanation of the remedial power of these Pellets over so grant a variety of diseases. it may truthfully be said that their action upon the system is universal, not a gland or tissue escaping their sauative influence. Sold by druggists.25 cents a vial. Manufactured at the Chemical Laboratory of WORLD’S DISPENSARY MEDICAL ASSOCLATION, Buil'alo, N. Y. Being entirely vegetable, they op- erate without. disturbance to the s 'stem. diet. or occupation. Put up in glass via a, hermeti- cally scaled. Always fresh and reliable. As a laxative allerative, or purgaflve these little 3Pellets give the most perfect satisfaction. 8% HM. .~ BEWARE OF IDII'I‘A THle. ALWAYS ASK FOR DR. PIERC'I'J’S PELLETS, OR LITTLE SUGARzâ€"COATL‘I) PILLS. Merchants, Butchers, 80111113; amiggnsm everywliére; 366311;; symg-Tpms or. CATARIIH.â€"Dull‘ ALBIA LADI [35’ COLL EGE, “Untold Agony from Catarrh.” Three Bottles Cure Catarrh. L“)\e\'ce‘s Address: Principal Austin, CALFSKINS Prima Facie Evidence. ST. THOMAS, ONTARIO L) U N L. 50 87. \. $335339 LIVER e\\et§;» PILLS. is offered by the manufactur- ers of Dr. Sage’s Catarrh Relnedy, for a case of Chronic Nasal Cntarrh which they cannot cure. swam The Original