C HLAPTER XXVII. George’s recovery when the doctors had given up all hope was sufficiently marvelous to suggest the idea. that a certain power had determinedâ€"on the hangman’s principle, perhaps,â€"to give him the longest of ropes; but it could in reality be traced to a more terresâ€" trial influenceâ€"namely, Lady Bel- ]amy’s nursing. Had it not been for this nursing, it is very certain that her patient would have joined his forefathâ€" ers in the Bratham churchyard. For Whole days and nights she watched and tended him. scarcely closing her own eyes. and quite headless of the danger of infection; till in the and she con- quered the fever and snatched him from the jaws of the grave. How often has not a. woman’s devotion been suc- cess-Iul in such a struggle! " Here is your tonic. George; it is the 135.1 dose that I can give you, as I am going lack to my disconsolate hus- band at luncheonâ€"time." “I can't have you go away yet; I am not well enough." " I musw go. George; people will beâ€" giln to talk if I stog here any longer." On the Monday following the events narrated in this last chapter, George, now in an advanced Stage of convales- cence. though forbidden to go abroad for another fortnight, was sitting downâ€"stairs enjoying the warm sun- shine, and the sensation of returning life and vigor that was creeping into his veins. when Lady Bellamy came inâ€" bo the room, bringing with her some medicine. " I musw go. George; people will beâ€" giln to talk if I stog here any longer." "Well, it you must, 1 suppom you must," he answered sulkily. "But 1 must say I think you show a. great, want of consideration [or my.comf0rt. Who is to look after my, I should like to know? I am far from well yetâ€"â€" far from well.†" Believe me,†she said, softly, †1 am very sorry.bo leave you, and am glad to have been a heLp to you, though you have never thought much about you It." “The letters, my dear An‘ne;. reâ€" member that you have got to earn you rletters. I am very much obliged your letters. I 3.111 very much obliged to you for your nursing, but business is business," "Sim \\ aggileut for a. moment and then spoke in her ordipjayy tone. . u " By the way, talking of letters, there was one came for you, this morning in your cousin Bhilipr’s handwriting, and with a. London postmark. Will you read it ?†" Read itâ€"yes; anything from the [aâ€" bhor of my inamorata will be welcome.†She fetched the letter and gave it him. He read it aloud. After a page of congratulations on his convalescenco, it ended: " And now I want to make, a propos- al to youâ€"viz., to buy back the Isle- worth lands from you. I know that, the place is distasteful to you, and will probably 136 doubly so after your severe illness ;. but, if you care to keep the house and grounds, 1 am noL yarâ€" licularly anxious to acquire them. I am prepared to offer a good price," etc.. etc. "I’ll see him hanged firsi,szs George's comman’t. "How did he get the money?†"Saved it, and made it. lsuppose." †Well, at any rate. he shall not buy me out with it. No, no, Master Philip; I am not foml enough of you to do you that turn.†"It does not strike you,†she said, coldly, “ th‘at you hold in your hands a lever tlbwt may real all your difficul- ties about this girl out of the way.†“ By Jovel you are right. Anna Trust a woman’s brain. But 1 don’t want to sell the estates unless I mm» forced to." “ Would you rather part with the the doctors sufï¬ciently idea. that 3: ned_.on the [and ryi n t“ left in my body, and 1' take my cat!) that unless you help me, and help me honestly, I will emxose you." . "Oh'! I am your very humble ser- vant, you may count on me. The gal- leyvslave p‘ulls- well when the lash hangs over his shoulders.†and she laughed coldly. Just (Eben a serth announced that, Mr. Caresfoot was at, the door and anx- ious to speak to his cousin, He was. orâ€" dered to show him into the drawmgf room. .As soon as hp had gone on hls errand, George said: " Oh! yes. Lady Bellamy, I have heard all about it, including your own brave behavior, to which, the doctor tells me, George owes his life. I am sorry that he cannot see me. though. I have just come down from town, and. called in on my way from Roxham. I had some rather imq;orlant business that Iwant- ed to Speak whout," Lady Bellamy nodded. and left the mom. She found Philip in the draw- ‘ngâ€"mom.» "Ah! hJo'w do you do, Mr. Caresâ€" foot‘? I comb from your cousin to say that he can'noft see you to-day; he has scarcely recovered sufficiently from the illness through which I have been nurs- ing him; but of course you know all about that." " About your offer to repurchase the Islewor'th lands l†she asked. "Ah! you know of the affair. Yes, that was it." " Then I an] commissioned to give you a. reply." Philip lisrienend anxiously. "Your cousin absolutely refuses to sell any part, of the lands." “ Will nothing change his determina- "I will nth sue him; say I am too unwell. But, do you go. and 9% that you make, thh moan of your chance."_ “ Will nothing change his determina- tion? I am ready to ‘give a good price. and pay a separate valuation for the Hunter.†"Nothing. he does not. intend to sell.“ “Then there go the hogres of twen- ty years," he said. “For twenty long years, ever since my misfortune, I have toiled ani schemed to get these lands hack, and now it is add for nothing. \Vell, there is nothing more to be said," and he tumei to go. "Stop a minute, Mr. Caresfoot. Do you know, you interest; me very much.†A deep depression spread itself over her hearer’s face. " I am proud to interest so charming 3» lady," he answered, with a touch of depressed gallantry. “Tth is as it shvoguld be; but you inierest' me because you are an in- stance of the truth“, of the saying that {syery man has some ruling passion. if o’ï¬ly one could discovbr it.†Why do you want these {articular IandsY Your money will buy pth‘ers just as gopgif: \Vhy does a' Swiss g"et homeâ€"sick? Why does a man defrauded of his own wish to recover it ?" Lady Bellamy mused a little. "What would you say if I showed 3’03 311 easy way to get them ?"_ Philip tuined éharpfy round with a ngyvhlook of have upon his face. "You would earn my eternal gratiâ€" tudeâ€"a gratitude thatIshould be glad to put into a. practical shape.†She laughed. "Oh! you must peak to Sir thn about that. Now Iistan; I am gomg to surprise you. Your cousin wants to get married." " Get married! George wants to get married ?" ‘ " Exactly so: and 'now I have afurâ€" ther surprise in store for youâ€"he wants tor marry your daughter Angela." comfortable astonishment. If Lady Bellamy wished to surprise him. she had certainly succeeied. "Surely you are joking," he said. "I never “as further from joking in my life; be. is desperately in love wilh her, anti with!) (Oi marry her.†“ \Vell ?†" \Vell, don‘t you now see a way to force your cousin to sell the lands?†"As the price of Angela’s h‘anid ?" "Precisely." Philip walked. up oin‘d down the room- in thought; though as the reader may remember he had himself, but a month before, been base enough to suggest that his daughter should use her eyes f0 forward his projects. he had never, in justice to him, lye it said, dreamed of forcing her into a marriage in pwsnr This limb Philip Eaid nothing, he sfarmd’ in evident surprise and fo forward his projects. he had never, in justice to him», lye it said, dreamed of forcing her into a marriage in every way little less bh'an unnatural: His idea of responsibility toward his daughâ€" ier was, as regards sins of omission, extremely lax, but there were some of commission that he did not care to face. Certain fears and memories op» pressed him‘ L00 much to allow of it. "Lady Bellamy,†he said, presenily, "you have known my cousin George iniiinately for many years, and are pro- "You had better give it up, George. 1111 not superstitious, but I have know- ige that you do not understand, and foresee nothing but disaster in this bably sufficiently acquainted with his habits, of life to know that such a marriage would be wn infamy.†" Many a man‘ who has been wild in his youth makes a good. husband." she answered, quietly. "The more I think of it." went on Philip, excitedly, after the fashion of one who would lash. himself into apasâ€" sion. “ the more I see the utter impos- sibility of any such thing, and. Imust say that I wonder at, your having unâ€" dertake-n such’ an errand. On the one hand, there is a young girl who, though I do not ,from' force of circumstances. see much‘ of myself, is, I believe, as good as shb is hamdsomeâ€"" “ Anld 0&1 thb oth‘eq‘," broke in Lady Bellamy, ironically, “ are the Isleworth‘ estates.†an Once an And on the other," went on Philip, ause you the two‘ give up your project of mar- )zzela Caresfoot X?†:1 for all, Anne, I will not whilst I have any breath body, and I take my oath you help me. and help me you ask you will have to choose be Ld never, dreamed in every .ral: His is daughâ€" omission, a some of care to [ories 0pâ€" w of it‘. :vresenl 1y, ' 11 George 1 are pro- with his t such a. V}. 11 wild in and," she went on aï¬hion of 010 a pas- er impos- nd. Imusl aving unâ€" n the one l0, though Instances. elieve, as . i in Lady Isl eworth‘ on Phijin, CHAPTER XXVIII. \Vith what degree of soundness our pair of lovers slumbered on that nwm~‘ arable Saturday night, let those who have been so fortunate or unfortunate as to have been placed in analogous cirâ€" cwmstances form their own opinion. It however, certain that Arthur gazed upon the moon and sundry of the larger planets for some hours. un- til they u‘nkindly set, and left: him, for his candle had burned nul, to find his way to bed in the-dark. \Vilh his reflections we will not trouble our- selves; or. rather, we will not intrude upon their privacy. But there was an- dther person in the house .who also salt at an open window and looked up- on the heavensâ€"«Angela. to’ wit. Let) us avail ourselves of our rightful priâ€" vilege and look into her thoulghts. «Arthlur’s love had come upon her as a surprise, but it had found a para fect home. All the days and hours that she had spent in his company, had. unknown to herself, been mySA teriolusly employed in preparing a. habâ€" itation to receive it. \Ve all know the beautiful Bible story of the Creation, how first there was an empty void, and the Spirit bmoding on the watera, then light, and then life, and last, man coming to turn all things to his uses; Surely that story, which is the type hut without paying "1 am going t1 Bellamyâ€"is a ma who I have good reason to Know IS 11m to be trusted, and, wblo is old enough to be her father, and her cousin to bootâ€"and you ask me to forward such 2} marriage as this! I will {have noth- mg to do with it; my responsibilities as_ a. father forbid it. It would be the wnckedest thing I have ever done to put, the girl infto the power of such a man "I was about to say," broke in Phil- irp, who had naturally no desire to see more of the secrets of his life unveilâ€" ed by Lady Bellamy, "that even it [did wish to get rid of Angela, I should have I'LtLle difficulty in doing so, as young Ileigham, Why has been stopping at the Abbey House for a fortnight or so. is head over ears in love with her; indeed, I should think it highly probable that they are at this moment sangased-‘L _ .. . . . A ,1 "Ab!" she said, "I did not know that; that com-plicabes matters." And ihen wtih a. sudden change of tone: "Mr. Caresfoort, as a. friend, let me beg of you not to throw away such a chance in a Entry for the sake of a. few non- sensical ideas about agirl. \Vhat is she after all. that she should stand in the way of such, grave interests as you have in hand? 1 tell you he is perfect,- iy mad about her. You that can make your own terms and fix your own price." .... .‘u ."‘o' o It W5; Lady Bellmy‘s turn to start now. ' r "Prirel ay, that is what it would be â€"â€"a. price for her body and soul.†“\Vell, and what of it? The thing is done every day. only one does not talk of if in that way." "Who taught you, who were once a. young girl yourself. to plead 8116111 8. cause as this?" "Nonsense, it is a. very good cause â€"-a cause that Wllll benefit everybody. especially your daughter. George will get what he “ants; you, with the re- covery ol' the will also reâ€" cover your lost position and reputa- tion, bath! to a. great extent an afâ€" fair of landed property. Mr. Heigbam will gain a. little experience, whilst she will bloam into a great lady, and. like any other girl in the same cir- cumstances. learn to adore her hus- band in a. few months.†7"7A‘nd what will you get, Lady lamy?†“1!†she replied, with a. gay laugh‘ "Oh! you know, virtue is its own re- ward. I shall be quite satisfied in seeâ€" Lng everybody else made happy. Came I do not want to press you about the matter at present. ‘I‘hslnk it over at your leisure. I only Leg you not to give a decided answer to young Heigh- am. should he ask you for Angela, till your leisure. I only Leg you not to give a decided answer to young Heigh- am. should he ask you for Angela, till I have seen you againâ€"say, in a week’s time. Then, if you don't like it, you can leave it alone, and n01.0dy will be a. penny the worse}: ' . “As you'uke'it; but I I can never consentz" a1 his leave." "Your cousin entirely refuses his colusent, and Angela is by this time prollsably engaged to your exâ€"ward Arâ€" thur Heigham,†{Yaw} Lady Bellamy’s unit very promising report to the inâ€" teresting inxalid in the dining-room. After relieving his feelings at {his After relieving his feelings at this intelligenve in language more forcible than polite, George remarked that. un- der these (-chuunstanws matters 1001(â€" ed very bad. u f shall see your cousin again in awmk's time." when I shall have a differanh tale to tell.†“Why wait a weék with that young blackguard making the running on the spot?" ‘ 1‘. u “my qr-“ "Because I have put poison into Phil- ip's mind, and the surest poison works slow. Besides, the misrhief has been done. Good-bye. I will tome and see you in a. day 0r two, when I have made my plans. You see 1 mean to earn my letbers.†ndaI ion learance Ngtdatmavlj. they 1001; very well ‘ing' heed to her remarkâ€" lg to sweak rflainly, Lady a. man utterly devoid of the rainrly against him ason to know is no wblo is old enouefl and her cousin t‘ ma to forward sue] I I will {have _‘I}_0§h 3.1‘8. I bell you that and Philip took and symbotl of many things is of none more so than of the growth and birth of a. perfected love in the human heart. The soul is made ready in the dead winter and receives the seed into its bosom. Then cmnes the spring. and it is clothed with verdure. Space 13 void till the gun shaots its sudden rays athlwart it, and makes it splendid; the heart is cold and unwitting of its ends till the spirit broods upon it, as “POD- the waters, and it grows quick With the purposes of life. And than what a change is there! \Vhat has the flowâ€" a change is t]: er in common er in common from the : whence it sprung, or the m with the darkness before Thinking in her- chamber night air pflayimg on her and her hand pressed upon as though to still the tumul‘ Angela grew vaguely consc'u thylgs- ‘ v.“ aâ€. I Was she the same in heart and mind that she had been a. month ago? No a thouéand times no. Then what was this mysterious change that seemed to shake her inmost life to its foundaâ€" tions? \Vhat angel had troubled the waters mm Whinh she had so newly plunged? And whence came the heal- ing virtue that she found in them. bringing rest after the vague trou- ble of the 1351: two weeks, with sight ing virtue that she found in them. bringing rest after the vague trou- ble of the 1331: two weeks, with sight to see the only goodâ€"her love, \‘Vith speed to follow, and strength to 110le 01)., happy, happy world! oh, merciful; Creator, who gave her to drink of such a. livimz spring! 01]., Arthur, beloved 4“ an 0n Eï¬nday mornings it was Plgott's habit to relax the Draconian severity of her laws in the matter of breakfast, which, generally gpqgkipg, was not till about half past eight o’clock. At that hour precisely on the Sabbath in ques- tion, she appeared as usualâ€"no, not as usual, [or it being Sunday, she had on her stiff blank gownâ€"~and, with all due solemnity, made the tea. A few minutes elapsed, and Angela entered. dressed in White, and very lovely, in hm- simple tight-fitting robe entered. dressed in White, and very lovely, in her simple tight-fitting robe but a trifle pale, and with a. shy look upon her (am. She greeted her nurse with a. kiss. “\V‘hy, what is the matter with you’. dear-i6?" ejaculated figott, whose watchful eye detected a change she could not define; "you look different Somehow." "Hush! I will tell you by and by." At that moment Arthur's quick step (was heard advancing down the passage together with a, pattering mise that. announced the presence of Aleck. And as they came, Angela, poor Angela, grew redder and redder. and yet more painfully red. till Pi‘gott watchingher face. was enabled to form a. shrewd guess as to what was the cause of her unaccustomed looks. 0n came the steps and open flew the door, more and more ready to sink into the earth looked Angela, and so in- terested grew Nurse Pigott that she a. living sprihgl oh, Arthur! 0n came the steps and open flew the door, more and more ready to sink into the earth looked Angela, and so in- terested grew Nurse Pigott that she actual-1y poured some hot tea on her dress, a thing she could never rememv. her having done before. The first to enter was Aleok, who following his custom, sprung upon An- gela and licked her hand, and behind Alenk, looking somewhat confused, but handsome and happyâ€"for his was one of those fin/seq that become handsome when their owners are happyâ€" came Aleck’s masher. And then there en‘ sued an infinitesimal but most awkâ€" ward pause. his feet. eel‘ of th the Engl ex'y seas< tives. 1<‘( are muck namely, the fir: gagemgnt, ther when it (rcurs in the presence of a third personâ€"a. very considerable dif- ficulty in the minds of th: parties to know what demeanor they are to adopt toward one (mother. Are they to tneafc the little affair of thz previous evening as a. kind of confidential comâ€" muinication. not to le alluded to exâ€" cept in private conversation. and to drdp into the Mr. and Miss of yester- day? That would certainly be the eas- iest, but then it would also be a. deâ€" cided act of mutual retreat. Or are they to rush into each other's arms 8. becomes betrothed lovers? Th's pro- cess is so new that they feel that it still requires private rehearsal. And, meanwhile. time presses, and every- body is beginning to stare, and some/- thing must be done. ( To Be Continued.) drdp day? iest. older! they a bee still V'l‘obogga‘niing is very well till one. has tried skiâ€"ruiirningâ€"pu'oinounced, by the way, she-running. I .A person sails majestically along with nothing to help him. but a. spiked bam- ‘boo pole and long narrow sandals on his feet. Dr. Conan Doyle is the pion- eer of the sport in Switzerland! where the English people enjoy the run ev- ery season to the surpriss of the na- tives. For a beginner the difficulties are much greater than in Learning to tolioggzmh ‘Let any one tie a board six feet long by three inches broad to each foot and try to walk about a lawn. He may shuffle along, but let him. turn a. corner, go down a slope or alter his wurse in the slightest and he» will re- nIi-m the difficulties to be met with. {The sacred fires of India have not all been extinguished: The most an- cient which still exists was consecrated 2 centuries ago in commemoration of the voyage made by the Parseesl when they emigrated from Parsia to India“ The fire is fed [iv-a times every 24 hours with sandal wood and other fragrant materials combined with ewry dry fuel. This fire in the village of Oodwada, near Bulsar, is visited by Parsees in large numbers during the months allotted to the presiding genius of final ._-v ‘7," On sunk occasions 8.3 th‘; present Swllzerlmld Spun "on- I illug ’ Tnhogu Illng. ‘oggunh ‘J t long by ‘t and try [N DDA'S SACRED FIRES SIG-RUNNING. ‘t meeting after an en- ? is alwaysâ€"especially 'hat has the flowâ€" 1 the seed from the noonday sky mfore the dawn? hamher with the n her hat brow, (1 upon her heart, tumult of its 30y, conscious of these upon. with flow- from Teddy and Ills Friends Consulted the Wrong Almanac. At the time when, in England, the punishment for overstaying a. furlough} was flogging, a ‘poor soldier who had. or thought he had, otersMyed his time was seated on the toy of a. stage-coach Izrepared to ryeturn to his post. His mother, brother and sweetheart, vainly entreated him to remain. The scene is depicted by a. locker-on; who truth- fully adds that it reflects credit upon Teddy. “Comte down wid ye, Teddy I" cried his mother. " Come down, now, to your old mother 1 Sure it’s flog ye they will. and strip the flash off the bones of yez. Come down. Teddy, darlint." " It’s honor that won't let me, moth- er. dear," the soldier said, as he set his teeth. "Teddy, come down, ye fool of the world 1†said his brother, " Come along down wid yel" “ It‘s honor, brother, it's honor,†re- plied Teddy, aturdily‘ “Oh, Teddy," cried his sweetheart, "come down! S'ulje it‘s me, your own! Kathleen, that bids ye. Come down', or ye'fll break the heart of me, Teddy. Come down !" the chorus from mother. brother and sweetheart. "Would you have me lose my hon- or 2†exclaimed the soldier. not daring to look at his dear ones, whose words moved him so deepfly4 The next moment the whip craoked and the coach‘l was off, bearing the gallant Teddy with it. Then! a. gentle- man who sat beside him szoke up. "It’s honor, Katkfleenn'; it's honon bright that tells ms to go," said Ted:- dy, fixing his eyes stealily before him. "Come down. Taldy, honey 1†" Teddy, ye foo]. come down!" "0, Teddy. come down- to me I" was the chorus from mother. brother and Customs Aboard Ship Conan-ulna It .â€"Saw inc: and splint": the Kin-(Ilingii. The galley stove has a rack arou'n‘d. the top to keep tha pots and kettles from sliding off when the ship pitches and rolls. Some stoves are provided also with iron straps Whi h can be se- cured to the rack across the top of the stove, over the pots and kettles, so that they can't slide at all, but are held down to one spot. As far as the fire itself is concerned that is kept just as it wold be in a stove ashroe. On American deep water ships the oommon‘custom is to burn hard coal! and the fire is built anew every day. [t is to let go out after supper has been prepared, and is built up again in this ‘moxningi The cook~ is an earLy riser for (m these ships it is customary to give the watch on deck coffee at halfâ€" past 4 or 5 o'clovk in the morning. On some ships the men get a. little snack of something to eat with it. For the preparation of this early coffee the cook makes a wood fire. When the cotâ€" fee hasheen maple he puts on coal and i starts up the fire for the day. The wood used is usually cord wood l .l sawed and split. \Vhen a. ship is at sea ii is not convenient to run put " \Vben does your furlough expire 9†he asked. ~ " The first of March, sir, bad luck to it of all the black days of the world! And some way it come sudden on me, like a shot." “ The first. of March] Why, my ood fellow, you have a. day to afare. t en, Toâ€"morrow is the first of March; it is leapryenr. and February has twen- ty-nine days." " Twenty-nine days. is it 7†cried Ted~ dy, his countenance illuminerl with hope. †Say it again! You’re sure of that same?†The next moment he leaned from the coach and ran back to his lamenting man manac in the ivThey had cwnsuxlted the previous year's calendar. The steel Works in coursz of oreeron at Saratov, on the Volga, Russia, covâ€" ers 92 acres, and are so arranged that, the raw material is delivered by r‘ '11 at the highest part, demanding grleâ€" ually during the process of manufazâ€" ture until the finished products are «lu- poeited in) the warehouse, on the river bank. A model village is being; built for the workmen each family having a separate dwelling; wads. 0 mother, mother IT WAS LEAP-YEAR. exuberance of his joy he hug‘ Lot'her, brother avn'l Kathfleen‘. word’s saveâ€), and it’s a happy am! But plague to the old a1- GREAT STEEL WORKS THE GA LLEY FIRE. it’s your alman~ e exclaimed, and his joy he hug‘ and split sawed inâ€" it aboard as needed fluxes l'e usad for