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The journey to Paris seemed long and‘ tedious to Gerald, Who was torn by anxiety as to the treatment Peggy would receive st‘ the hands of the cunning, untrustworthy Smith, the orthodox Miss M‘Leod, and the obstinate Mr. Beresford. He wondered whether the autocrat of "Les Bouleanx" had some reason stronger than a freak for wish- ing his daughter to return. Gerald believed that he must have given up the project of marrying her to Victor, since the young Frenchman, as well as his parents, would certainly decline to ratify an engagement made with such an erratic young lady as this last escapade proved Peggy to be. The youug‘husband tormented himself by im- agining that it was with some thought of punishment for his daughter‘s disobedience that Mr. Beresford had sent for her, and he was in such a fever of fear about her by the time he reached Paris that he would have taken the next train back to Calais if he had not found, waiting for him at the telegraph ofice, a telegram from Peggy, the contents of which reassured him. This was the message : “ Father really ill. Shuts himself up. Won’t see anybody. Delphine takes this to Calais. Lovu.” With his mind relieved of a great weight, Gerald jumped into a fiacre to fulfil his promise to Smith that he would go to M. de Breteuil's house first. He did not suppose that he should find this errand very difiicult: from what he had heard of the arrogant millionaire, he imagined that he should have to waste a couple of hours in a. big, bare, coldly handsome anteroom, with a. dozen more people in the same predica- ment, and that he should then be snubbed by the great man for a couple of minutes, and sent about his business without having accomplished anything in particular. So he turned over his letter of introduction idly in his hand, and let his thoughts settle on the more interesting subject of his visit to Madame de Lsncry and the possible dis coveiies to which the signetstone he was carrying might lead, when once it was plac- ed in her clever hands. He had worked himself into such a state of passionate excitement over the thought that he was perhaps carrying, at that very moment, the menus of bringing his father's murderer to justice at last. that when the fiacre stopped at the imposing porte-cochew of one of the handsomest mansions in the Avenue Friedland, Gerald had forgotten for the moment his immediate errand; and it was not until he haJ paid the driver, and walked mechanically through the massive iron gates into the courtyard, that he re- membered where he was. He had just been told, in answer to his inquiry, that M. de Breteuil was out, and was recrossiug the courtyard, impatient to start for the hotel where Madame de Lsncry was staying, when he had to step aside quickly for 3 Victoria, drawn by a. pit of chest- nut horses, Which rattled in over the asplmlte and was dmwn up sharply at the entrance. with a, skill and neatness whi :1 made Gerald certain that the coschmm must be an Englishman. The young fellow turned back reluctant- ly, followed his conductor up a wide, shal- low-stepped marble staircase, with a. bal- ustrode of elaborate ironvwork on the one side. and a. painted wall on the other, to the first floor. where he was led along a corri- dor, the whole length of one side of which was one long window, darkened by stained glass, by high tropical plants in a conserva- tory on the other side, and by tapestry dra- peries which hung in festoons from the ceiling. The opposite wall was of carved dark oak, picked out with gold. The car- pet which was laid down in the middle of the polished floor was so thick as to deaden the heaviest tread ; and Gerald thought, as he followed the servant to the door at the end, that a good comfortable workhouse would be more to his taste thenthie silent and gloomy magnificence. ‘ “ Maia oui, monsieur," answered the man in a. tone of respectful insolence which Gerald interpreted to mean that the lady was not popuhr among her servants. “Madame l” echoed Gerald, overcome with shyness at the thought of having to confront the magnificent feminine creature, the pomp and circumstance of Whose surr roundings had somewhat overawed his sim~ ple mind. f‘ Madame de Breteuil i” “ “That a splendid tum-out ‘." he thought admirineg ; and just as he got to the gates he glanced back for one more look, and saw that in noticing the setting he had over- looked the gem. Standing up in the little carriage. with her hand upon the back, was 8 till lady who gave him, in the glimpse he caught of her, a. vivid impression of brocade and feathers. As she was looking straight at him, he withdrew his eyes at once and walked on. He was on the pavement oun- side the gates when a. tall servant, in a. livery which to his eyts appeared rather too gorgeous to be in good taste, ran after him. and respectfully asked in French, whether monsieur would be good enough to come back, as madame wished to have the honor of speaking to him. He was ushered into a. very large and very lofty room, which altered his opinion. For, little as Gerald knew of Anything but the outside of gram; houses, he was struck at once by the tact that in this apartment exceptional judgment had been used in making the mogt both of height and space. The tapestries which hung on- the walls were wide, and reached from the painted (e'ling to the polished floor, while the lookingglasses between which they fall were of the same height. The chairs and couches in the room were all high-backed and large, less ambitious seats being provided in cushions of pseudo- Orientsl pattern, which were strewn in piles of two and three in rugs about the polished floor. The room was neither bsre nor overcrowded, but everything in it was on such a scale as not to be dwarfed by the surroundings. Pelms in huge porcelain bowls filled the corners, an embroidered screen nine feet high stood by the fireplace, which was of old~§arhioned English pattern, lofty, oaken, heavilycarved ; and the cur- tains which draped the entrance to another room at one end were caught up by what Gerald afterwards srtlessly described as “my a. of gold.” u ,,,,,L, I! “Iu s togrloig- for anything human to live in,” commented be critically, as, finding that he was left to himself for a. consider- A GREAT SEC CHAPTER XXLV. SHALL IT 0R, able time, he began to wander about softly, wondering from what corner the queen of this surprising place would appear to him, and what remarkable “tributes she would possess to distinguish her as much from the women he had met as her home was distin- guished from the abodes of mesner mortals. He had time to go from end to end of the room, and to peep through the hanging cur- tains into the next apartment, which was smaller and decorated and furnished like an Arabian Nights’ vision seen in a Parisisn‘s dream. .v. ‘1 BE DONE. “IDEAL:- “Not the real thing at all, I should say, but mu :h more comfortable," thought Ger- ald, detecting a European neatness about the fringe of the carpets, and observing that the lanterns which were suspended overhead were fitted up for the electric light. He was advancing two steps into the second room to admire the ingenuity of this arrangement, when the sound of a turning handle made him retreat hastily into the room into which he had been ushered. As he did so, however, he was in time to see a rather largegloved hand and wrist spark« ling with bracelets thrust from behind a. portiere that screened the' door through which the lady was coming. »- W ,1", Gerald listened to the rustle of heavv silk, to the rattle of many beads, and to a dis- tinctly heavy step on the floor of the inter- vening room, with curiosity and some sur- prise. A quiet life had made him observant, and, long before he caught another glimpse es the lady, he knew that her refinement was not equal to her splendor. As she drew near the curtains which divided the, rooms, Gerald stepped forward with a. low bow; then he raised his head, met her eyes, and fell back with an irrepressible exclama- tion of astonishment, of horror. For the beautiful creature before him, in low-cut, trained gown of rose and coffee-colored satin, hexvy with pearl embroidery, which imped- ed her clumsy movements and yet showed off the animal beauty of her Amazonian fig- ure, child-like blue eyes and silky fair hair, was the gamekeeper’s daughter, Babette. Her arms were encased in long, pale gloves that reached to the shoulder ; on the fair white skin of her neck hung a double string of pearls ; her soft hair, piled high on her head in coques and coils, held a. tuft of rose-snd~coflee-col- ored feathers and more pearls; the sunny- brown skin of her face was artificially whitened. But it was atriumph of millin- ery, not- of mind, and, at the first straight- forward glance of sorrow and disgust from Gerald's honest eyes, the ignorant creature’s peacock dignity gave way, and she stood there before him stupidly picking out the feathers of her satin fan, with her frizzed and fluffy heed hung bashfully down, just as, the summer before, she had pulled out the petals ofadaisy with her redâ€"brown fingeggrvrvvhxié he thlmghtz the soft fringe of hair that escaped from under her cap on to her sunburnt neck the prettiest thing in the world. “O Babette !" said he, in heartfelt sor- row and reproach. “I am pretty like that, am I not?’ said she, raising her head hardly, and betraying to the young fellow’s shocked eyes that the confusion she felt under his glance was the old false shame with but 77‘ ,1 “.I hope not,” said he as gravely as a, preacher. “I hope that before the person who was wicked enough to dress you up in these thingsgets tired of seeing you in them, you will find out yourself how silly you have been, and go back of your own accord to the old cottage and the cows that you used to be so fond of, and your poor grand- mother and erâ€"and yourâ€"er your father.” He could not find an attractive aijective for Mounier, so the end of his speech was rather abrupt. Babette tossed back her head sharply, and a little curl fastened to a hairgin fell down to the ground. 1 D , M , a. faint trace of any nobler feeling. He had overrated the capacity for good in this blunt, coarse nature in the old days when bashfulness under a cotton cap looked so like sweet modesty. Perhaps it; was the fact: that his heart was filled by another W0- man that helped him to be keen‘sighted now. At any rate, this speech betrayed her. "‘ Yes,” handsome 1 them. " “ Well, Ishall be used to them soor,” said she, turning round upon him quickly and awkwardly, but: bowing instantly to more advantage as anger made her natural. "-No, Babette, I shall never think you pretty again until I see you back in your blue frock fund yogr qabotg,” s‘aid he girgply. “ You don’t, admire handsome things, then,” said she scornfully, walking past him so that he might be impressed by the length of her train and the height it gave to her figure. She had already discovered that. “ Yes,” he answered quietly, “ I like handsome things on people Who are used to “36 yes, 83111 flied the gigs, I suppose, and wash the floors, and get? gcqldeq._” “Why, Babette,”°said Gerald, Who had detected nervous glances which she cast from time to time at the doors,” “ you get scolded now. She started and stared at him. He went on : “And now, you know, you don’t dare to say a word back. You used to work hard, and, when any one grumbled at you, you knew you were in the right, and you could answer saucily. But now you are nothing but a. poor dressed-up doll, and you scarcely dare to walk lest you should show that you miss your sabots, or to turn round for fear of tumbling over your train, and offending_â€"” He stopped short: having grown in a. mo- ment quite white and cold. In the astonish- ment, grief, and disgust he had felt at the sight of the trausfigured Babette, he had forgotten for the time his suspicion that it was the murderer of Mr. Shaw who had run away with her. “Wth is it? “What is the matter. Monsieur Gerald ‘3” she asked with real solicitude. “ Babette," said he huskily, seizing one of her gloved arms and speaking with earnestness, which made him shake from head to foot, “ who is this M. de Breteuil? \Vas it he that used to come about the place after you at: ‘ Les Bouleaux’? Tell me, for God's sake, tell me I” But the woman was trembling. He saw at once that he had frightened her too much for her to be frank with him. She only muttered, “Let me go, let me go,” and fought herself free from him, with troubled eyesllike a. teased and tilriid child. ‘7‘7'Né, no,” she said at last, very peevish. “ I met M. de Breteuil in Puie, and I wish he would come in now, and have you turned out; for frightening me. Don’t: you know I am a, gram; Indy now, and you mustn't tread; me as it I were just peasantgirl, like I used to be.” ' Sl-e was the peasant-girl still, if she had only known it, as she wriggled about un- comfortably in her beautiful dress, and end- denly kickefl off her tight shoes as she used to do her old sabots. As soon as she saw what she had done she threw herself down on a sofa, and burst into tears of mor- tifi :atlon. Gerald looked at her for a. few moments, and then, seeing that in this new and ex- citing situation he should get no help from her, he went quickly and eottly toward the door by which he had come in. . ‘ v . But before he had reached it she looked up, sprang to her feet with a loud cry, and rushed helter-skrlter along the room to him, tumbling over her gown an every step, her arms stretched out, her hair falling down, 9. miserabie and ridicnlous object. “ Don’t go away, don't go away ! You are right, Monsieur Gerald, 1 am foolish, I am unhappy. Don’t go away yet. Perhaps you can tell me something ; and I want to know so much. Look, look, if you will stay, I will take off 23.11 these things, and you shall treat me just as you please.” ' And the excited creature pul‘ed out the ornaments from her hair, the pearls from her neck, and tore her gloves to strips un- der the frantic efl‘orts of her muscular fingers to get them OH. Gerald stopped and watched her in perfect silence and stillness, exactly as he would have watched a. large mastifi‘ hurting itself with its chain in its sttempts to detain its master. The tears came into his eyes. “ Of course fwill stay and hear whatever you wan}: to_ my,” be sai_d ggntly. “ Apd if Ican only help you tobo happy again, I will. But you must let me go soon, as I have some very important business to at- tend to." The poor fellow was indeed on fire with impatience to be by himself, and with anxiety not to risk meeting M. de Breteuil until he had seen Madame de Lancry. He led the panting creature to one of the colos- sal couches he had admired so much; but she pushed him down upon it and stood be- iore him, leaning against fhe oaken mantel- piece in shamefaced excitement, which moved and melted him, “I don’t like this place, I am unhappy and frightened," said she, incoherennly. “Already he is changed in these last two weeks. \Vhen he is cold, he is like ice, so hard, so stern; and when he is guy, he is like fireâ€"like fire. 0, he frigetens me i I do not like him, I hate him !" “ Well, why don’t you run away from him, and go back to your father’s cottage, you silly girl? If he isn't very good-tem- pered, and if your grandmother is tiresome, why, at: least, you can do as you please, and you need not be afraid of anybody,” said Gerald, who saw it: was a. mistake to take high moral ground as n atandpoinb in deal- ing with her. “ 0, but it was my father who sent me away, and now that there seems to be a. sort of suspicion that he was mixed up with the wolf-scare, he is afraid he is no longer in favor with Mr. Beresford, and it is the more necessary for him to keep well withâ€" withâ€" “ Well, well, with whom ‘2" But: she did not answer. Herlarge, round, blue eyes were turned in terror toward the nearest of the high windows, her mouth was open. her limbs were shaking. Before Ger- ald could understand What new trouble had seized her, she shmnk back like an over- grown, frightened child against the corner of the carved fire-place. “ What is the mztter, Babette 'f" “ Don’t you hear the carriage in the courtâ€" yard ‘2” she asked in a. hoarse whisper. “ He has come back, and when he finds how I have been behaving he Will scold me,” She shook out the folds of her beautiful gown, looked at herself in one of the long glasses with an exclamation of despair at; the havoc which the excited movements of the last ten minutes had wrought in her appearance, and began hurriedly to try to pull on one of the torn gloves. Suddenly a. red flush overspread her face, from which her hot hands had during the last few min- utes removed the thick coating of rice- powrier. .. n 1 LU“ In -L- ..-:.J :_ MK litter Gerald heard a man’s step and a. man’s voice in the room he had just; left. rv‘V‘. 'muatn't find you here 1” she Said in a, tremulous voice. " He would kill me if he were jealous, in the humor he has been in for the last few day; _ Come here_.” She seized his hand in a. muscular grip which was physically irresistible, half led, half dragged him the whole length of the two rooms, pulled aside the portirzn, open- ed the door behind it by which she had her- self entered, thrust him into a little over- furnished boudoir, and, before he could protest, turned the key in the lock and left him a. prisoner. n , 1) L_A.A.1 _ >.-__L. Gerald was still staggering from the last push of Babette‘s strong hands when the heavy man’s tread in the next room stopped, and for a. few seconds there was dead silence. The young fellow came back to the door, and turned the handle, madly anxious to meet this mm. Bufi it was locked. Then through the heavy curtain on the other side came the mufllud sounds of Babette’s voice in abject apology and entreaty for forgive- was. “ I have been to sleep,” she faltered, “on the sofa. there, and the cushions have tumbled my hair. ” ‘umbllzd your hair I" echoed a man‘s hard, grating voice, “ and torn your gloves, and dissrranged your dress, and made you cry ! It is ,a great deal for a cushion to do 1' Then, after a. moment’s pause, in a. voice of tenfold greater harshness : “ You have been romping with one of the servants x” “ No. I haven’t, no, I haven’t. 0, mon. sieur, 0, Louis, nobody has been near me, indeed. You are very unkind. For the last fortnight you have been always irritable, always hard. And I have done nothingâ€" nothing to make f, on so. I’ve been a. lady every day until just now, and not burst my dress or torn anything or knocked anything over for three days.” “ You seem to have been male your abstinence now.” ,y... ._~ She went on mumbling excuses without getting any further answer, until by an im- atient exclamation her master signified that he had had enough of them, uni Ger- ald guessed, by the little scream she utter- ed as her train rustled tows-rd the door by which he was standing, that she was being CHAPTER XXV. king up for pushed toward it. The next sound he heard was the hard voice speaking close to the other side of the door. “Go beck to your maids and let them dress you and make you fit to be seen again. I dine at: the British Embassy this evening. But if you are good I will take you for a drive afterward, if the night is warm enough.” The woman mumbled an abject assent and crouched by the door, quite still, while the heavy trend of the man grew fainter in the distance as he crossed the two rooms. Gerald, in intense excitement, drew from his pocket the letter entrusted to him by Mr. Smith, and knocked softly at the door which shut him in. “ Let me out, Babette, let me out,” he whispered. “Imust see M. de Breteuil before he leaves the house. He need not knowI have been in here. Let me out, there's a good girl ; it's very important.” But all the answer he got was a frightem 66. “Shall I” and lor fully ten minutes he entreated and she listened without answer- ing, until the sound of wheels in the court- yafll attracted his attention. ! 7 ,: LL, , .. ,, v, , He looked out of the window of the boudoir, and saw a small, dark coupe, drawn by horses quite as handsome as those he had admired in the Victoria, drive rapidly out at the gate. Then Babette unlocked the door and he dashed put her impatiently, with Smith’s letter in his hand. ” You can’t catch him now, he‘s gone too far,” she cried nervously. “ What’s than in your hand? What do you want of him? ’ “What time will he be back Y" asked Gerald, stopping suddenly and speaking with some irritation. “ I have to see him most particularly, on business. I have a. letter of introduction to him, and these silly fears and fancies of yours have put me to great inconve‘nience.” u 1 q . 1 ‘3 She came slowly and ponderously toward him as he spoke, with an anxious and sly look in her eyes which he was too much preoccupied to notice. As soon as she was near enough, she snatched the letter out of his hand, drew back a, couple of steps, turn- ed sharply round, and pulled off the envelope so clumsily that: she tore the letter. “Business, businessl What is it? More secrets, I suppose,” she said viciously, as she turned the short note about in her hot hands without reading it. ” And he thinks he’ll get the better of me by forbidding me to learn to read. But I’ll be even with him. I can make out a. lot of words already, when they're wrote clearâ€"not like this," with a contemptuous slap on the letter she held. “ And if he tries any tricks with me I’ll just make off with his precious papers 1 I know where they‘re kept, simple as I am.” Gerald watched this new change with as- tonishment and disgust. Then he stepped toward her and held out his hand saying, w ry quietly: “ Now give me back that letter. You have done enough mischief for one day to satisfy even yo_u. I should think.” She yielded to his tone of authority, and put the torn note awkwardly into his hand, putting up one [shoulder into her ear with shy petulance as she did so. 1‘ Thank you. Good evening,” said Ger- ald shortly, and without another word he turned away from her and crossed the two handsome rooms in which the dusk of the evening was already casting grim shadows. He ahuddered is he cant I. last look at the for- lorn half-tamed animal who stood, miser- able and downcast, by one of the windows of the inner room, her coarse beauty re. fined and idealised by the dim half-light, longing to callback again the one honest friend who was leaving her, restrained from doing so by the respect which his simple gravity had imposed upon her. a “ I Ean’t do anything for her,” thought Gerald, “ perhaps Madame de L‘mcry can.” Ho pussed from the drawingrroom to the dark corridor, where little globes of electric light suddenly flashed into brightness on the walls as he entered. At the other end a. servant was standing, who opened the doors on to the staircase, and accompanied him down into the hall ; and it was with a. feel ing of relief and exultation Gerald found himself outside the house and on his way to the Hotel du Louvre. Madame de ancy was at home, so Gerald went upstairs and knocked at the door of the sitting-room. “ Come in,” said the General’s voice. No sooner did the young man’s face ap- pear in the doorway. than with a loud ex- clamation of satisfaction General de Lancry, who was alone in the room, jumped up from his chair with surprising nimbieness, and came forward to lead him into the room. “ Welcome, welcome !” said he eager- ly. " Madame expects you, I know. She has been crazy for the last half hour because you are late. You telegraphed that you would be here this evening, and the Calais train has been in for some time. You wait- ed to dine somewhere, I|guppos_e? It was half-past eight. The gaslight showed the still untouched dessert on the glistening White tablecloth, bright with sil- ver, and glass, and flowers. The sight re- minded Gerald that he was ravenougly hun- gry. -. . . u n L, ,,,,I,, t.~ ALA firm,” said he. “ Ah ! And,” dropping his voice to a mysterious whisper. and glancing at the door of his wife's room, “ Did the little lady find you? Not a. breath about that to ma. dame, you understand 1 I've tried to put in a word now and then for you both, but it’s of no useâ€"no use,” and he shook his head gloomily. “ She is very determined onjsome points, you know; and she went as far, one day, as to say that marriage with that little girl would be your ruin ; she did indeed. So 1 wouldn’t press it, if I were you ; I’d 130k out for a chance of taking her unawares with the announcement of your attachment, as I mean to do with the information that I’m no longer an invalid. Do you see? Sh- sh ! she‘s coming in.” The General slid down in to his chair again hastily as his wife came into the room. She looked rather thin and Worn, and wouldhave looked pale if that had not been a calamity which she knew howito avoid. Hergreat eyes seemed to burn with some fierce fire, and the stroig self-control, through which her words and manner appeared cold and list- less, told Gerald, who noticed her keenly, and who knew something of her state of mind, that the sport was growing exciting. The glance she cast at her husband, as she came in, showed plainly that she wished that well-meaning gentleman anywhere but in her presence. She gave Gerald & long, straight look from her shining eyes, as if to read without delay the tidings he brought her, gave along sigh of impatience as she shook his hand, gently pushed him into a. chairtand poured out a glass of Wine: 7 cuulr, uuu. yuuncu uuv a 5133a u; wnuu. “ You have had no dinner, poor bay, I know,” she said. LII had a. business call to make for the The next sound he And While her husband broke out into ex- ciamationa of pity and astonishment, she rang the bell, and x. ' th dinner should be selved again uce. '1 en she threw herself back in a 1x ~lcep chair, and eflaced herself, leaving (‘re to the mercies nee. 1016!: she eep chair, and to the mercies on placidly to should be solved again threw herself back in a 1L efl‘aced herself, leaving Ge of the General, who chatte him, delighted to have such Ingeniaal come panion, until the young fell had sstisfied his hunger and was able to give him more attention. As he leaned back in his chair for the first time, Madame de Lancry sprang up from here like a. tigress on she watch. (T0 132: CONTINUED.) The following is a. copy of the pass upon which a. party of statesmen travelled to the wedding of a fellow-member of the State Legislature recently :â€" Y“ n 1000 ~D.____._._- --,-_“J . CINCINNATI, Feb. 14, 1888. Conductors of C. & C. M. Railway :â€" Pass Hon. E. L. Lunpaon, Speaker of the House of Representatives of the great Shape of Ohio (the third State in the Union in the point of population, and first; in all other respects), and twenty-three (23) other people from Columbus to Blancheeter and return, on account of the marriage of Hon. W. 0. Hudson, the honorable member from Clinton. Conductors are instructed to leave their valuables in the train box while this perty is on board.- [Clevelnnd Leader. A Tremendous Sensation would hive been created one hundred years ago by the sight of one of our modern ex- press trains whizzling along at the rate of sixty miles an hour. Just think how our grandfathers would have stored at such spectacle l It takes a good deal to Istonish peoplenow-a- dayl, but some of the marvel- ous cures of consumption, wrought by Dr. Pierce’s Golden Medical Discovery, have created wide-spread emazement. Consump- tion is at last acknowledged curable. The “Golden Medical Discovery" is the only known remedy for it. If taken at the right timeuwhich, bear in mind, is not when the lungs are nearly goneâ€"it will go right to the seat of the disease and accomplish its Work as nothing else in the world can. Alleged Dutch hall clocks no longer com- mand the high prices of a. few years ago. ” Give Him :62, and Let Him Guess ” We once heard a. man complain of feeling badly, and wondered what ailed him. A humorous friend said, “Give a. doctor 32, and let him guess.” It was a. cutting satire on some doctors, who dcn’t always guess right. You need not guess what; ails you when yourfood don’t digest, when your bowels and stomach are inactive, and when your head aches every day, and you are lunguid and easily fatigued. You are bili- ous, and Dr. Pierce’s Pleasant Purgative Pellets will bring you out all right. Small, sugar coated, easy to take. Of druggists. “ Knickerbocker buff” is given as the name of a. color to be fashionable in Spring goods. Years.” It should have read “married,” but the proofreader observed that it; amounted to about the same thing, and so did not drew his blue pencil through the error. Unfor~ tunately there was considerable truth in his abservation. Thousan'is of husbands are worried almost to despair by the ill heelth that afflicts their wives, and often robs life of comfort and happiness. There is but one safe and sure way to change all this for the better’ The ladies should use Dr. Pierce’s Fworite Prescription. Silver ornaments for the person of 9.11 kinds are more fashionable now than ever before. A Cure for Drunkenness. The opium habit. :lepeomamia, the morphine hnbit, nervous prostrntion caused by the use of tobacco. wakefulness, mental depression, flattening of the brain, eta, premature old age, loss of vitality caused by over-exertion o! the brain, and loss of natural etrength, from my cause whatever. Menâ€"young, old or middle agedâ€"who are broken down (rom any of theabow e causes. or any cause not mentioned above, send your address and 10 cenm in etampeifor Lubou’a i‘rgétie‘a. m Boorkrfom. of Diseases of'Mam. Books sent sealed and secure horn observation. Address M. V Luzon 47 \Vellinxrton street East. Toronto Ont. Spring bonnets are to have Wide strings if the latest fashion news from Paris is reliable. Con” No More. Watson’s cough drops are the best in th I world for the throat; and chest, for the voice unequalled. See that the letters 3. & T.W. are stamped on each drop. Corduroy will hold its own through the Spring and is to come in all the newest colors. Ocean Steamship Passengers Via New York should take the Erie rail- way, as it is not only the shortest and best line, but: lands people close to the piers of the leading steamship companies. In buy- ing tickets, ask for the Erie. Jewelers say there is an unusual demand for black pearls and that they bring fancy prices. reople who are subject u. bad breath. Inn! conned songue, or any disorder of the ssomwh, mm 55 once be renevad by using Dr. Carson‘s Se.)th EMere. the aid and Mimi remedv. Ask your Omarer Scme of the handsomeat of the India wraps are trimmed with black mambout feather trimming. Omens.“ EAm Rsnwnn restores grey and faded hair to its naturaloolor and prevents falling ouu. Braid in almost Bloomingdale profusion is to trim the tailor-made and other kinds of Spring suits. HUB 1 Conan CURB cures in one mlnute. Half teaspoonful of common salt dissolved in a. little cold Water and drunk will in. stanin relieve heartburn. Whenever your Stomach m Bowelo go; one a! or- der. calming Blllouaneas. Dyspepsia. 0! indigeahlan, mrl hbek abteudaue evlla, bake at rmos (1 dose ol 1);, vane-yrs Shamacb Blaflen Bess family medicine. Is the only Perfect Emery K’ife Sharpener. A in: to ev y housekeepbr. Sample by mail, 25 <§ C“. Toronlo. 77 7 T0 LOAN on Farms, Lowest No delay. Correspondence so E. \V. I). fill I LE“. Fmancir. Ext/1b ished 1801. 72 King st E., Tor: and all other hedai wind ow 0 S Our$100 Fla] 1".“ >4" n “Had Bzen iWorI-ied Eighteen All Drum-(ism. bl) cents. Cold énapa continue to delight the hearts of women who have sealskin Bquqeg or a, Russian wrap. 1' For b‘nle-Hluflrabed duacnpnv. Lat- 7 ‘nloa'no free. 8. Ohmberliu. Toronto "‘CARVER'S :E'RIEND _' v w Colléctione will suit every 0Le. Illustrated Catalcgue free. WEBSTER Baos., FLORISTS, HAMILTON. ITfiv’f§ficure:TPatent Attx ways, and experts Ess’d 1:67. Dul-nlql (f. Bldout a Co..’l‘oronto. An amnibus Pass £353; Plants. ll othefieddibg and 390 A bless- 5 cents. Rates. 'cited‘ ‘nw