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CHAPTER V.â€"â€"(CONCLUDBD ) “You are wet and tired," his wife said‘ passing her hand over his coat. “Do some and change your coat, James ;" but he hok no heed. “Who of us shall say what is for the best 1” he remarked an length. “This news would have broken her heart." “Whose heart, dear T' his wife asked, slipping her arm within his. “You must not let other peeple’s troubles worry you so much, J ames ; you are looking fagged and worn out.” “I have heard bad news," he said. “And I," said Mrs. Archer. only vaguely alarmed, “have heard good news. We will set the one against the other. Which shall be told first. T" Miriam's séérlet blossoms were scatter- ed on the white cloth. She was looking at Mr. Archer, a growing terror in her WW... . m. u , ,iL:__-_.u.l “Van v :re‘vhoae heart '1" she whispered. “You are speaking of Lady Hicksâ€"has anything kapp_e_ned go any of them '1" A A- £_-_£..I -_-: .. r _________ _, n , “There has been another fearful acci- dent at seaâ€"a. collision in the night. A ship has gone down with nearly all on boaflâ€"ib ls the one in which her brother â€"In which Kingston Keene sailed.” ,4; Mrs. Archer, Owich a. horrified cry, put her hand up to her husband‘s mouthâ€"too late] Miriam, standing for one instant white and rigid by the table, suddenly began to away, and, before one of r 1‘ ,,_-_|4‘_ Ln them could reach her, fall senseless to the floor. “Heâ€"he was her husband." Mrs. Ar~ char aobbod, looking up with grieving, reproachful eyes into the Rector's face as be bent over the girl’s prostrate body. “She had but: just told me. Oh, James, it was the good news I had for you V.” “You must forgive me," Mr. Archer said presently. when consciousness had come back to Miriam. and she was gazing before her with teal-less. dreadful eyes of despair. “I would have died sooner than be the bearer of such news to you, could l have known." them." Then Miriam struggled into a aiming posture, and put her hands to her head, wildly pushing the diahevelled hair from 011‘ her face. "No hope 7" she repeated. “I cannot believe there is no hopeâ€"I will not. There is hope somewhereâ€"I know it. Youâ€"you who comfort others, why don‘t ycu comfort me? Pretend there us hope if them be noneâ€"so that 1 don’t, go mad." "Is there no hope T’ she asked in a voice anguished and hoarse, and all unlike her own. “Was no one saved 2" “A few,” he returned' sadly. “My dear. the names are known of those who are saved, and his is not; among “Are the names of the drowned given 7" his wife asked. “Loss King- ston Keene's name appear at all 7” ‘ A list will be giVen to-morrow." “Then till tomorrow,” Mrs. Archer cried triumpdantly, “we will not believe that he is amongst them! Who knows fifiéértain'y nfiat he sailed in this ship? He meant to do so, I know. but may he not have changed his mind '2’ Who knows that he sailed at all T' Channel. The whole of those saved were picked up at once in a boat lowered from the tteamer. The whole thing was over in a few minutes ; the passengers Were mottly asleep in their cabins and few had even time to rush on deck. The eaved were of the crew.” She looked with a defiant glance at her husband as she said this, and be, looking from her tear-wet face to the pallid facu beside it With its mournful eyes fixed in agonieed appeal on him, forbore to utter those wmds of dreary, sensible certainty which was to his lips. “Dear Miriam," Mrs. Archer inter- posed before her husband could speak. “Dearest Miriam, of c ‘uvse there is hope â€"be quiet, James 1 This is only a. first reportâ€"~we all know how erroneous they often are. He may hava been saved, al- thocgh his name is not in that list. It is cruel and wicked. andâ€"and unchris- tian to say there is no hope.” "My dear Mrs. Keene,” the Rector said, “1 have never known alight but pain to arise from the mistaken kindness of arousing false hopes. The veseel col- lided at night with a steamer in the Miriam had caught at those words, “he might, not. have sailed." They seemed to her to convey the only although most unaubamntial hope. She was too stunned to be able to form any reaa'ogin her mind a- to why he might not 118.983 sailed. she could not discover for he: elf any real ground for such a hope. She was indeed, incapable of thought, she could only cling to those blessed words which had admitted a. slight ray of light into the gloomy night of her mind â€"“Who knows that he sailed at; all 7” I “If he did not m1, where ihhev" she asked, with sudden sharpnesstkfi tone, looking M Mr. Archer. “Where is 7”“My dear, let me beg you not to trust. in such a broken read," he implored. “Mr Keene sailed.” “He would be in London,” Miriam de- clared, Ignoring his last words. “He is in London 1" she cried, and started up. “I will goâ€"yes. I will go now myself, and find him. He is in bi: rooms in Lon- donâ€" he is not in the wreck at all !” “Sit down, dear. Keep quiet,” Mrs. Amber implored. “We will send to his rooms ; J names will telegraph." “f But here a. difficulty arose ; no one 2n ‘bert‘s MIRIAM. are those 111' rooms were an address w he ne no o_ne situated. a known. and reply," W8 shook her head She be; the door. Buuun “cl. uwuu. “All that will create delay," ahe said‘ “Delay will kill me I Waiting here help- less to read that telegram would kill me I must go.” . , , ::1__ Lawn-A, uuv uvv. . "I will go with her, James," Archer said, but he 3110913 his head. Albllcl. nun-v, u..- --- ~_, “I will go, of course." he said. “In is useless, but; since it. pleases her Thére in no train for an hunt, Miriam; yogmnat eat something." _:n. «I...» nnnn. ’Vu wuuv v..- _-.__-V He himself sat down with what appe- tite he might to the pretty luncheon table, but Miriam escaped to her room ; she would neither eat not drink. Poor Mm. Archer, left alone with her husband, burst into tears. A - u . L--- Uul BU luLV mm“... “What a. burden for her to bear through all her life 1" she sobbed. “0h, James, what. a. burden! He loved her and wanted to stay with her, and sheâ€"â€" she sent him to his death! And youâ€" you are not fit; to take this journey with- out rest. 1 wish. oh, I wish that. I had not awakened this hope in her mindâ€"” ' Lulnu “In is all useless,” he said wearilv. “There is no hope -, but it may be for the best. that she should take some acbxon, however futile. To sit still, to wait and endure is more difficult than to perform prodigies of exertinn. lb‘is but an hour's journey ; travelling and excitement may be gqod for her, may take her out of her- self nun. An hour later Miriam and her friend were speeding towards London. ‘ .. . . . . I I, L‘ It..- nvnu nyvv‘AI-b -- V. _- _- “Goodbye,” she said tearleasly to Mrs. Archer; she had not yet shed one tear. “You must pray for meâ€"pray not to see me for a long, long time. For if we find him he will keep me with him. and lfâ€"if not, then pray that I may die.” 1 "3,- She would not talk to Mr. Arch¢r dur- ing the journey. She sun by the mo- dOW. her eyes fixed upon the flying fields with an eagerness in them so tel-Able, an impatience no hardly restrained that, it pained him to look at her. ",h III _L.. -___ “How alofily we are going 1" she com- plained once or twice. “The train hardly moves, does it. ’3" "I “Lean back and close your eyes," he advised her “The distance will not. seem so great if you do no; watch every inch of the way. " But she paid no heed. “You do not want to get there." she said. “You do not believe I have a chance. It is cruel of you ‘cruel lâ€"not even to pretend to hope. How is it that you can bear it," she aald again presently, “if you have no hope ‘l You knew him, he was your friend ; I heard you say how liberal he had been to your pocr. You know how full of life and manhood he was ; you parted from him the other day, a. powarful, noble-looking man, in the very height of his strength: Can you be- very height of his strength. Can you be- lieve that he is drownedâ€"drowned like a rat in a trap ’( He is is so alive to me ; I can hear him speak; I can see him 31- ways coming bowuds me ; I can see his eyes seeking mine. I. Mr. ‘Archer, I know He was very gentle and patient with her. tender as a father might have been in his compassion. It would have been so much easier t1 leave her those fond delusive hopes, to encourage her with the possibility of finding the man she would never see on earth again ; but he, knowing the fatal certainty that awaited her in an hour's time, would not stoop to this. She shrank in sullen silence when he talked to her of resignation and spoke in his simple earnest way of the beauty of submission to the will of Heaven. She c-iull only feel resentment towards him for his well-meant effort to give her peace. Then he told her of the sorrowful house he had visited that morning; of the poor young wife's heart-broken anguish ; of the life of poverty as well as loneliness which was before her ; of the little childâ€"their little childâ€"that the Rector had found laughing and crowing on the bed on which lay its father’s borl v. G’ED nuUBlAâ€"IS nu ..... ‘ -‘~._~ _ ____ â€"do you hear me ’Iâ€"â€"V-Iul’mow Be is no't dead 1" Miriam turned her eyes momentarily from she window and seemed to listen. “Did they love each other ’1” she asked. “How did they part '1” Glad to gain her interest, he spoke to her of that parting ; told. how the wife had slept till, in the darkness of the cold winter morning, she had. found her hus- band already dressed to go to his work ; how she had been conscious of his draw- ing an extra covering over the bed on which hxs wife and child lay, and of how, only half awake, she had stretched up an arm and pulled his head down to her. of how the poor young fellow had kissed his wife and the sleeping child nestled in Se; :ers before he had gone forth to his eat . The Rector dwelt on bha sorrow of the tale, making it as pathetic as he could. If Miriam could not weep for her own sorrow, shu might weep for nnother‘a. he thonght ; but Miriam turned back to her window impatiently. “She is a happy woman. I envy her â€"â€"oh, how I envy her 1" she said. “If I could have done what. she didâ€"just that -on‘y that, this horrible load on my heart would lose half its weight. Tell her how happy. how blast ahe iaâ€"tell her Arrived in London, Mr. Archer con- ducted Miriam straight to the Hickses’ town house. The woman in charge of it hustled about. lighted a fire in a. de- serted and ghost-like sittmg-room, and offered refreshments, which were hastily declined. Did she know Mr. Keane’s London address? she was asked; and ‘ 5v. began to move unsteadin towards was suggested ; but Miriam Mrs Mr ful fire, compelling Miriam to sit dwwn. “ I am guing,” he said, “to make in- qnh'ies. I may be away for hours. Do not be impatient or give way to despair in my absence.” m ‘Tbh, maywi not come too 7" she cried, Catching at. his hand. “ Let Inaâ€"let ma 1" "QWEQQ'QQQ you going? What will you :10?" h _ . ‘ . II "MAJ but a hindrance. ’1 “ I shall find out where are his agents’ ofiices. I know of some one in the City who will tell me. Once the agent is found the thing in easy.” Miriam, sintmg almost in a. stupor over ihe fire where she had placed her, could not) have told if hours or days or even years passed over her aching head. She knew that at. last there came the sound of of an opening door. She started to her feet, and stood in an agony of sua- peuae. Her has hec‘ fallen from her head, but she was still wrapped in her heavy travelling cloak, the thought of removing it havmg never occurred to her. She stood rigid as a statue,the only sigh of life in her agonised. wildly appealing eyes, turned on Mr. Archer as he entered. “Hgâ€"cagein to her quickly and took her hands. “I have been successful so far,” he said. “I know where he puts up when in London." Still Mu-iam looked at him with the same intensity of appeal, and Mr. Archer turned his own eyes away as he auawer- ed the unspoken question of hen. “ 1 had Setter sell you,” he said sadly, “ that he is believed to have sailed. he mentioned ihia ship to his agenfs, and took leave of them last; week. Until I mentioned to them ourâ€"our vague hope, no thought. but that he had met the fate of the other passengers had occurred to them. They have however applied to the proper quarters for particulars, andâ€"and all necessury steps have been taken. Now I shall go on to Mr. Keane‘s roams ; they are in the neighborhood. I thought you would like to see me first." “ How long 3" she whispered through “ How long 1" she whispered through dry lips. “ How long 1" “ Less than half an hour,” he answered. “ Miriam, have patienceâ€"pray to Heaven for resignation l" “ I cannot," she cried wild‘yâ€"“ I cannot 1 I tell you I cannot 1” She wrenched her hands from him and fell upon her knees, her arms stretched along the table against which she leant, her face resting on them. “I cannot I I do not want resagnation I I will not he resigned ! Iwant his life ! Oh, Heaven, giva me this man’allfe 1" Mr. Archer'knelt. by her for a. while, speaking, by human work of comfort, in word of prayer. But in was of no avail. She oniy moved her head restleaaly on her Outsttetched arms, moaningâ€" ' so Mr. Archer left her her on'hia return. “ His lifeâ€" oh Heaven that .' His life !” She wa? still kneeling with her back to the door, the lamp light shining upon her downbent, dusky head, still moaning her almost insxtlculate prayer when he re- turned and ran swiftly up the stairs. She heard his footsteps. but, from weakness or from fear. she did not rise nor ‘jft her head. He came ln and knelt by her side once more. r “Miriam.” he whispered brokenly, “ Heaven is all-merciful-all-merciful, mxdear l” She was silent. She seemed to him to hwe stopped breathing in the intensity of her suspense. “Heaven is merciful!” he went on. “ Do you understand me, Miriam 'I Now can you rise? That is right. No, do not look round: look into my face for one moment. Do you hear meâ€"do you understand? You Were rightâ€"you and Georgieâ€"and I was wrongâ€"and Heaven is very merciful. andâ€"he is here I" A cry that Min-lam had no strength to reprem resounded through the mom. Some one else entered by the door to which her back was turned, and pub strung arms about her sinking funnrand for one ecsfatic momant she floated into unconscioumeaa of all but delirious joy on Kingston Keena's breast. “ Miriam, my love‘ my wife !” he was whispnring to her. when. after a. moment of forgetfulnesa, she awoke into life and love and joy in his arms. “ Miriam, my wife ! I could not leave you! My heart failed me at the last '. I did not. sail !" William Millspaugh and Jennie Hal- ford uf Reynoldsvllle, N. Y , were en- gaged to be married. Recently they were out sleigh riding. and stopped at Mlllspsugh's house. \Vhile they were there Mlllspaugh picked up a revolver that lay on a bureau. Miss Halford was afraid of it, and requested him to put it away. He laughed at her fears, and, pointing the pistol at her said : “ Look out I'm going to shoot you 1" He pulled the trigger, and the pistol wasdischarged. The bullet passed through the girls head. killing her almost instantly. Millspaugh gave himself up. He said he did not know the pistol was loaded. Miss Hal- ford was a beautiful girl, nineteen years old. Sceneâ€"Two little girls playing that they are grown up people : “Youlmuat accept; this 1'ng as a pre- V‘"MV dear, stay here; you would be sent lmitat'mg lle Shot his Sweetheart. couldn't. think of 1 will oblige me i know it doesn’t I 901-. THE END Adult Generosity tur ink of it ’ 6 me if you will esn’t become my to he found Néthing but )u W1 em Michlgan. “For a young man I have done pretty hard scrapping in the Rockies and mining regions of New Mexico and Arizona, but a few days ago I had the worst scare in my life in :he lumber districts of Northern Michigan." ‘Ahe speaker was a young man of some 27 years, dressed in rough~ and~ready style and wearing a frizzly tow beard. He shifted the pasition of his broad shoulders as he lounged back in an easy chair in the Sherman House office, puffed his cigar vigorously, and then con- tinued : “It was one of those bitter cold days we’vs just been having, and I had got up at three o'clock to reuse the men . and get the sprinkler out. The air seemed full of blue steel and cut to my marrow like a razor. One of the teamsters got scared out and played 03 sick, so I had to take his place. When we had got a good load I took the reins and sat down on the butts of the logs, leaving the two loggers on behind. Of course about twenty feet of the load hung off the last bob. The road was a sheet of ice, for the sprinkler ran over it every morning, and the horses were sharpâ€"shod, so we slid along smoothly till we got to the slideâ€"a pretty steep incline ending in a turn which was mighty sharp for a road sixty feet wide. As soon as we started down my hair began to stand on and, for the horses galloped like fury to keep ahead of the bobs which were slewing over the road. I got so paral) Zed and nervous that when we approached the turn I ‘ reined in too suddenly. I felt the front bobs jump one way and the back bobs the other. The hind ends of the logs Whistled through the air like willow switches, and l I heard the loggers yell : ‘For God‘s sake, â€"-~â€".’ The next thing was a loud snapl snap! snap lâ€"like three tremen- dous paper~crscksrs~as the big log-chains broke like so many cotton threads. Did you ever use a switch-sling l Whirl it round and round your head, you know, till a sudden twist sends the apple off the end and spinning into the air? Well, that is the way I felt, and that is just what I thought of as I was shot off into too alt, over, and over, and over. till I struck in a snow drift some 100 or more feet from the road. When I struggled back through the snow Ifound the horses trying to kick loose from the few bits of harness that dangled about them. the bobs tangled about the trunk of a. small pine tree, and the logs scattered to the four winds. One logger crawled back to the road with a fractured leg. and 'the other soon followed with a dislocated shoulder. One had struck a tree and the second had landed against a stump. They after- wards told. me in camp that these things were not at all unusual, and, as I had some pretty heavy bruises myself, I con- cluded that I was not made to boss a lumber camp. So I was driven to town the next day to telegraph the manage- ment that the head teamster Was filling my place, and that I was on my way to Chicago ; and you bet your like I am glad I did it." Thrilling lncidcntln flue I’lnerles of Non]: l l l l l Earl y marriages are nowhere so common as in the prosperous manufacturing dis- tricts of Lancashire. Boys and girls not out of their teens, but earning big wages, and having their feelings of independence prematurely developed by the absence of home life, get married at a time of life when, in the higher ranks of society, they have not left schonl nor begun to think of is calling. Siturdsy is a favorite day for getting married because it is a short one, and the ceremony can be got through with a minimum of lossâ€"a. thing certain to be considered by a thrifty operative. ‘ Tne town is paraded for a few hours in tawdry Emery of glaring colors, which l cinnot serve any useful purpose again; perhaps some of the watering places is visited if it is fine, and on Monday morn- ing by the stroke of six the newly msr- ried couple may be found at their looms, in defiance of all poetry and romance, and the Wear and tear of life begin with them in earnest Marriage makes no alteration in the position of the wife so far as mill Work is concerned ; she puts in her ten hours a day now as she did before. In- deed, she has the worst of the bargain, for when work is over it is her privilege to light the fire at home, get the supper ready, and do the necessary work, while it is the prerogative of the husband to use his leisure according to his own sweet will. When the time comes for the baby to be born the mother expectant with- draws from the mill for a few weeks, and when she is well enough to resume her piece at the loom, the baby is placed in the care of some old crone who is past work herself. and ekes out sufficient to five on by taking charge of five or six of these luckiess babies for the consideration of a shilling or two a week, according to the age. Early Marriages in Lancashire. Two young ladies entered a cigar store and mm of them saiq ti_midly : W‘V‘ Eavé you any choice c'igars, air‘l I want. them for a. present," 7 “ Oh yea, M155,” replied the tobacco):- ist, “ we have any choice you want, from a cent apieqe ypt’:~ > _ “ I think I will take some of the one cent ones, then, if they are choice. I had no idea that choice cigar: were so cheap. Won’t Charlie be delighted ?" she said to her companion a they left the store. “ Poor boy I He is so fond of a choice cigar, and they will taste all the better,” she added, with a. little blush, “ for having come from me." A LOGGEB'S STORY. Treat in Store for Charlie. wrmn the d Butler 115 a. civil set-Vic A Bargain in Corner Lots. is what moat men desire, but to keep from filling a grave in a cemttery lot, are half your days are numbered, always keep a supply of Dr. Plerce’s ““ on Medical Discovery” by you. W She first, symptoms of conuumption nppeu‘ [043 no time in putting yourself under the treatment of this invaluable medicine. It cures when nothing else Wlll. Possess- ing. as it does, ten times the virtue of the best cod liver oil, it in not only the cheap- eat but far the pleasanneat to take. I! purifies and ennches the blood, strength- en: the system, cures blotchea, pimples, eruptions and other humoxa. By arug- ngtEo To most men experience is stern lights of a ship, which only the truck in has passed. Young and_middle-aged men suffering trom nervous debility. premature old age, loss of memory, and kindred symp- toms, should send three letter stamps for large illustrated treatise suggesting sure means of cure. World’s Dispensary Med cal Association, Buffalo, N. Y. Seclusion ls not conquest ; it is cruci- fixion. Strong character, like strong muscle, comes from activity, from war- fare. not from retreat. " Work. Work, Work!” Hm many women there are working to (my in various branches of industryâ€" to say nothing of the thousands of pa- tient housewives whose liVeB are an rm- ceasing round of toilâ€"who are martyrs to those complaints to which the weaker sex is liable. Their tasks are rendered doubly hard and irksome and their lives shortened, yet hard necessity compels them to keep on. To such Dr. Pierce’s "Favorite Prescription” ofl‘ers sure mums of relief. Fur all female Weak- nesses it is a certain cure. All druggists. The mind of childhood is the tender-est, holiest thing on earth. Let parents stand as watchers at the temple, lost any un- clean thing should enter. No Disappointment Disappoiments of one kind and another crop up all along life‘s pathway, for un- fortunately it is the unéxpected that al- ways happens. There is at least one article of acknowledged merit that) never disappoints. Pvmui‘s PAINLESS CORN EXTRACTOB is sure to remove the worst coma in a. few days, and as no claim is made that it will cure anything else. it. cannot disappoint. If you have hard or soft; Cer just try it. Beware of the article “just. as good." N. C. Polson & 00., prepxietors, Kingston. The most influential man, in a free country, at least, i: the man who has the abihty, at well as the courage to speak what. he bhifiks whenoccaaion mayrequire it. THE only variation in quality which will ever be found in “Myrtle Navy” tobacco‘is in the degree of moisture which it contains. Tobacco is a. very ready absorbent of moist- ure, and in unusual states of the weather it may become a little the moist or a. little too dry to suit the taste of some. This is a. minor matter, however, as the essential quality of the tobacco is not changed. Its combustion is a. little slower or a little faster according to the degree of moisture, that is all. The darker the plug the greater the moisture, and many prefer the dark. In each caddy, however, the preference for either can be met. Teach self-denial and make its practice pleasurable, and you create for the world a destiny more sublime than ever ia- sued from the brain of the wfldeat dreamer. Perhsps the most extraordinary snocea that has been eohieved in modern eclenee has been attained by the Dixon Treatment of eaten-h. Out 01‘ 2,000 tients treated d the past six months, ly ninety per cent. ve been cured of this stubborn malady. This is none the less startling when it is remembered that not five per cent of the patients'presenting themselves to the regular practitioner are benefltted, while the patent medicines end other advertised cures never record a. cum at all. Starting with the claim now generally be- Ueved by the most scientific men that the disease is due to the presence of living parasites in the tissues. Mr. Dix~ on at once adapted his cure to their extermination: this accomplished the oeterrh is practically cured. and the permanon is un- questioned. as cures effected b him four years ago are cures still. No one e as has ever at- tempted to cure catarrh in this manner. and no other treatment has ever pared osterrh. The application of the remedy is simple end;oen be dope at home. and the grosent season of the year is the most tavern. le for a speedy and permanent cure. the majority of cases being cured at one treatment. Sufl’erers should oar- respond with Messrs. A. H. DIXON & SON. 306 King-street West. Toronto, Canada. and enclose gtemp (or their treatise on mumsâ€"Mm a1- Speaking truth is like writing fair, and comes only by practice ; it is less a. mat- ter of will than of habit. ;andibis doubtful if any occasion can be trivial which per- mits the practice and formation of such a hcbib. Young Men lâ€"nead This. The Volmiu Belt. 00., 01 Marshall, Mich. offer to send their celebrated Electra. Voltaic Belt, and other Electric Appliances on trial for thirty days, to than (young or old) afflicted With nervous debility, logs of Vltalltv, and all kindred troubles. Also for rheumatism, neuralgia paralysis, and many other diseases. Compleze rumor. atiou to health, vigor and manhood guaran- teed. No risk is incurredu thirty ‘dayn' trial in s..lowed. Write them at once for illuatratud pamphlet free. It has been well said that the noblest souls, of whatever creed, have insisted on the necessity of an inspiration, a joyful emotion to make moral action perfect. The paramount virtue of religion is that it has lighted up morality, that it has supplied the emotion and inspiration needful for carrying the ordinary man along the narrow way. The self~indulgent man thinks to se- cure the gratification of appetite without CM "Thâ€"A New Treatment. .aaure Ice is like the which illumine 18 his