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CHAPTER. XXIV. In the interest of her half-brother, Iivian had determined to forget all past differences, and to make a friend of Lady Ncslie; so one evening she said to herâ€" "Valerie, if you are not engaged, will you spare me a few minutes I" "Is the lecturing business about. to begin?’ thought Lady Neslie. have none of it." "It, is not a very usual thing for "1 will you to seek me," she replied aloud. "I am not engaged. What do you want 7 ’ "I want you to walk out into the grounds with me. I have sometthing to say to you." It was an August evening, and the warm still air was heavy with the fragrance of the tall Ascension lilies. The sunbeams lingered with a golden llght on odorous flowers; the roses drooped their heavy heads. Bath and sky looked so fair that Valerie saw no particular reason for refusing; and Vivian led her to her own favorite nook, where the sun dial stood and the fountains played in the sunlight. How long was it since that sunny summer morning when she had stood there dreaming of the noble deeds she would do. She lived through the scene again. She remembered her anger, her passion and dismay, when she received her father’s letter; she remembered ‘how she had inveighed against his marriage, and how impot- snt, ‘how worse than useless, all her struggles had been. How long was it. since ,she had sat there in the sun- I light? A few yearsâ€"as men count time; to her it seemed that a life-time had passed. And now, she had lost all, except the guardianship of the honor of her house. But she was there to plead with the stranger who had supplanted her. “Valerie,” she said, "you will not misunderstand me." But Lady Nes- lle interrupted her. "Once for all, Vivien, let me tell you, I will have no interference. I m mistress of Lancewood, and I shall do what I like." “Do not mistake me,” returned Vivian; "I am not about to interfere. I have seen nothing that calls for in- terference. I was about to ask you, Valerie, whether We cannot be better friends.” Heaven knew the effort it cost that Eroud girl to humble herself so. She had so heartily despised the woman by her side. . "Let us be better friends,” she beg- ged. "We have but one interest in wmmon -â€" the welfare of little Os- wald. If we live in peace and barâ€" mony, we can act so much better for him." "What do you call mace and bar- mony I" asked Valerie sharply. le“Never disagreeing,” replied Viv- n. "I never have wanted to disagree,” said "miladi." “It was you. the very first you always disliked me, you were always jealous of me; you would have sent me away if you nould." , . The beautiful face flushed crimson with humiliation; but it takes more. than the spiteful wards of a spiteful women to shake the resolve of a noble mind. 7 "There is some truth in what you lay, Valerie. I did not like you. I was vexed and sorry that my father had married you. But now that he is dead and we are alone, let it be different. I offer you what I never offered you before, my hand in true Ind loyal friendship. Will you accept it, Valerie? . \‘l'ill you let me do my best: for you and for little Oswald?" But "miladi" was suspicious. She was too ignoble herself to understand I noble motive. She became suspi- :ious. What: did Vivien want? She )ould not, would not, believe that it was friendship with herself. She turned abruptly to herâ€" "W‘hat is it you want, Vivien? Speak plainly. You must have some {lesign or motive in thisâ€"tell me what t is." Vivien raised her patient face to the clear blue sky before she answer- kd. "I have no motive, Valerie, but the wish to help you in the training and education of your son, the wish to help you make him a good man.” From , "In plain words,“ thought Valerie to herself, "she wants to have her thare in the management of matters â€"and she shall not." "I do not see any need for all this, Vivien," she said coldly. “I am willâ€" lng enough to the on friendly terms with you, but you must understand uite distinctly that I will allow no nterference. I will not yield one lots of my authority to you.” "I have no wish to usurp it. Oh, believe me, Valerie, the good of Lance- wood. the honor of our name, is all I care forl I ask you in all good faith, In all truth and loyalty, to let me be your friend, your adviser, your counâ€" selor, your right hand. I have no wish to take your place, and no wish to wrest your authority from you. I _ ")Yhat is it you want 1’“ she said coldly. "It is something quite new to hear you talk about submission." "I will tell you what I want, Val- crie. \Vill you let me have some will bethe first to set an example of obedience and submission to you.” Only a noble woman could have leaded thus; but the woman listenâ€" ing did not understand. share in the training of your boy? lie is to be master of Lancewoodâ€"let him learn what will make a noble man; he is to be master of othersâ€"let me teach him selfâ€"discipline. self- control. He is quick to learnâ€"let me teach him lessons of loyalty and truth. of good faith and honor. [would never be cross with hiiu. Valerieâ€"I would be patient and gentle; may I try I" "No." replied Lady Neslie; "you shalt have no part, no share in the train- I will make him what He shall .learn no cant. no hypocrisy; he shall ing of my boy. I like, not. what. you like. enjoy his life. Self-control is all very Well for roor peopleâ€"it keeps them honest ; but it is not one of the virtues of a gentleman." "Ob, Valerie," interrupted Vivien. "do not say such things!" But "miladi‘s’" anger was thorough- » ly aroused now. "You have triumphed over me," she said, "often and often. You have 1 been pleased to laugh at my ignorance. ,my defective education; you have said that I am not a lady ; you have looked down on pne. from the supreme height of your own grandeur. Now it is my turn to triumph, and I mean to en- joy my victory. I mean to repay you for every insult, every sneer." "I have never insulted you, Valerie â€"â€"never sneered at you." “Then you [have done worse -â€" you have treated me with silent contempt. IYour father, $00, lhas added his quota -â€".he insulted me when he appointed you the guardian of the family honor. Out of sheer revenge for those words I have a great mind to drag the name of Neslie through the mire l" i Vivien recoiled as though Valerie .had struck her a blow. \Vhat man- ner of woman was this her father had married?" "I have quite made up my mind to one thing,” said her ladyship. "Your ioffioe, shall be no sinecure. You shall have plenty to do. Your family honor shall require some looking after." "I thought you were a nobler wo- 2man, Valerie; for Oswald‘s sake I am ‘sorry that you are not." "No, I am not. Nobility is not my . forte. You understand me, Miss Nes- ‘liei I forbid you to interfere in any ‘way with my dhild. He shall be trained as I wish, not as you wish." "Then, Valerie,” said Vivien, sadly, 2"ihave I pleaded to you quite in -vain I" "Quitel A sad waste of time and olf pride, is it not I" t “And would nothing that I might "say be of use 9 ' Vivien continued. “Nothingl You had your way when you were mistress thereâ€"now I shall have mine.” I And Vivien, seeing that efforts were indeed all in vain, turned sadly away. Evil days were dawning for Lance- wood. The hope that had cheered her vanished. How, witlh such a moth- er, could ‘Lhe boy. ever develop into a good man? . Life grew almost intolerable to her. One thing that saddened her was the conduct of the servants. Now that Sir Arthur .was dead, they turned to her instinctively as the head of the house. It seemed almost impossible to l make them understand that the : French stranger and her little boywere really to be studied before their own young laidy. They appealâ€" ed to' her, they went to her for or- ders, they referred to her, andit was quite in vein that she assured them she had no authority. She and they soon saw the punishment, Any ser- vant who so trensgressed was sure, very shortly afterward, to be dismissâ€" ed. by Lady Neslieâ€"dismissed on some trivial pretext, tho-ugh every one knew ‘the truth. The result was that in a short time most of the faithful old servants had left, and the Abbey was filled with new faces. The new-corm- ers, who had never known anything of Vivien treated her with neglect, because they saw that by so doing they pleased Lady Neslie. It was 'a miserable life. She won- dered often how it would end; there were times when she could almost have died in her despair, when the weight of her sorrow seemed too great for her to bear; and then, during those dark hours, she began to appreciate the devotion of Gerald Dorman. She knew nothing of the fact that he loved her, but hie was the only perâ€" son living to whom she could speak of her father, whlo understood in the least how bitterly painful and humiliâ€" ating her position was. She went to the library at times that she might talllk to him; and those hours, so patinqu to her, were hours of bliss to him. He drank in the beauty of her face, the muslic of her voice, until his love for her became a passion beâ€" yonld the reach of reason or self con- tro-. CHAPTER X XV. "I think," said Lady Ncs‘lie to her maid, "that I may safely lessen some‘. of my grief now." "In what way, ‘niidadif" asked Marie. “I may safely mix a little gray with my black, and then gradually: subside into a becoming shade of lav- ender." " I hope you will be careful. miladi. I have noticed that the English peo- ple are very particular about their mourning; any impropriety in that re-l spect would l)eâ€"â€"" “ I do not want a lemure," said Lady Valerie, haughtily. “Do what I tell you. Relieve that somber black silk with a little; gray. It is six months since Sir Arthur died; surely that is long enough for crepe." There was wonderful familiarity be- tween Lady Neal“: and her maid. Maiic took the silk dress in her hands and‘ began busily to trim it with ribbons of soft shining gray. "Marie," said Lady Valerie, "Inm going to Paris." 1 The maid lucked up almost in 3131111.; Her ladyship continucdâ€" ‘ "My fortune is made and secured. I have plenty of money, and [shall bet mistress .If the Abbey for fifteen years. I think now I may enjoy my, life." "You have had nothing but enjoyâ€". mom," said the maid. " Miladi," laughed "Do you call such a life as this an- joyment? I do not. English people do: not even know what the word ‘plca-l sure’ or gayety means. I call acar-l contempt uou>lym ‘t.ion. Hard, stern 'had fcarI-il. 'the chill to nival enjoyment; I call this life of restraint and conventionality impri- sonment. I long to find myself in sunny Paris, where I can do more as I like." Marie shook her head gravely. " [t is not my place to lecture, mi- larl‘i, but Ihope you \VIIII be care- ful." "I have nothing now," said Valcr'ie. coup. I am going to be very gra- cious. I intend during my abscnce to place Oswald under Miss Ncslie‘s care â€"shc will be delighted." " The best thing,r you could do would be to put him cntircly under Miss Nes- l.ic's careâ€"bogging your pardon for t bc f.re.cdom, miladi: you are not at all adapted for training a clhild.“ "Miladi" lauglicd good burnoredly. " It is very -])ossiblc," she replied, " but I shall go to Paris, and you must not be surprised if you find that I bring some of my friends back with me. I am tired of these dull English. I want Some one. to make me gay." Her words had a strange effect. The maid rose with a white scared face. " 0h, mi-ladi, be careful," she said, "for Heaven’s sake be careful. You have won so muchâ€"mind that you do not lose." "I cannot loseâ€"and of course I shall be careful; I must enjoy myself, or of what use would my money be 9“ Marie looked grave. "Evil days will come of it, rniladi,” she said. "If you wish yourself and your child well you will not: return to Franceâ€"you will remain here and go on as you are going now." “ Which I do not intend. You can prepare my luggage as soon as you like. I shall go in a few days‘ time." That same mounting Vivien was sur- plrised to hear from Valerie‘s own lips that she intended very shotrtly to go to Paris. "I left many dear friends there," said " miladi,” " whom I should like to see again." ‘ , Vivien wondered if she remembered refusing to invite these same friends during Stir Arthur‘s life-time, but she said nothing. She had long since disâ€" covered that words were useless. Vaâ€" lerie was unusually gracious. "\Vhi‘le I am away," she said, "I should be really glad, Vivrie'n, if you would take charge of Oswald. I know that I can trust you with him." " You may safely’trust me," was the grave reply. But Vivien did not feel as hopeful as she would have felt some time before; the child’s evil habâ€" its were becoming so confirmed that she almost dcspaired of correcting them. I Lady Neslie looked up with a laugh in which there was a note of con- tempt. - “On my return I shall expect to find a grand moral reform," she said. "I suppOSe my boy is anything but what you would like him to be. For my part I admire his spirits and his tal- ents. I hope you will not contradict him, Vivien." " I will be kind to him. but I cannot promise to indulge him foolishly. Va- lerie, did you never read these words, 'Give thy son his way, and he shall make thee afraid i” "No," was the laughing reply. "I do not go in for anything of that kind. I have but two requests to make â€"do not teach him wise saws or to sing psalms,” and " miladi ” went away with laughing disregard of Vivien’s flushing indignant face. Lady Neslie went to Paris that same week, anvi to Vivien it seemed as though the sweet spirit of peace had settled over the Abbey. An impulse came over her, when Valenie drove away, to have all the windows open- edâ€"«it was as though the very atmos- phere of the Abbey were charged with her mocking spirit. She felt that through every room she must have a fresh current of air. Once more she was alone in her father’s house, and, but for the noise of the young heir, thle terrible past would all have seemed a dream to her. Once more she was mistress of the house where she had ruled so long, and the only drawback was that " mi- ladi ” would return. Vivien waited one or two days before she tried to do anything with the child. Then shein- vited lhim to go out for a long walk with her. “May I slide ?” he anxiously at her. “Yes; and what is more. Oswald, I will ask Mr. Dorman to teach you to skate. You will like that.” Bribed by these promises, the little Sir Oswald, consented to go; and dur- ing their walk Vivien tried to lay the groundwork of her plan, to awak- en in the child‘s mind the first faint glimmering idea of truth and honor, ofloyalty and honesty. He was terribly deficientâ€"the result of her question- ing alarmed Vivien. “Did you ever say your prayers f” to risk or lose " I have made my asked, looking ‘ she asked. Corty " No, momma. found Mrs. and she teaching them to me once, said it was all nonsense." The boy seemed to have no reverâ€" ence for sacred things. She was lit- orally at a loss how to talk to him. "\Vhat shall you do when you are master of Lancewuodf", she asked him. “I shall eat all the grapes and peaches mysolf, shoot the birds. and whip the stableâ€"boys,” was the prompt reply. The. more she conversed with him, the greater became her dismayâ€"he had so few qualities. He seemed to have inherited his mother's disposiâ€" training and good teaching might make him different; I mother is so completely blind to her child‘s interest-1H! must he that Lady Neslic keeps him ignorant on purpose the more influ- A good tutor would remedy 'the evil. if would take child's wel- thut she may have once. over him in some degree one could be found who a true internal in the fare." Vivien‘s noble face brightened as she looked at him. " Yau have anticipated uliat lcame to say," she said, with a gracious smile. "I dare not cngagc a tutor for the buy; if I did, Lady Ncslie would discharge him at once on her rcturn, But, if you, Mr. Uorman. would take him a few hours every day,we might do something with him.“ " You can ask me nothing, Miss Ncs- lie, that. I would not do for you," rc- turned tlic secretary; "if you think I could do the boy any good, I will de- vote myself to him." " But your own work, Mr. Dorman, â€"how will you manage that 3" “I will do it at night," he replied. "Do not refuse me, Miss Ncslie. i speak truly when I say that Iwould lay down my life to serve you. l‘ermit‘ me then to offer you a few hours of my time each day." "I should be more pleased than I can say if you would devote those hours to little Oswald. You, as well as myself, have the true interests of Lancewood at heart. We can do noth- ing with Lady Neslie; but we might, between us, do much for the boyâ€"we could take him out of the blends of servants. You might have him so many hours each day, and so could Iâ€" and then surely we might do him some good." His face glowed with rapture too great for words; that she should as- sociate him with herselfâ€"that she should appeal to him, rely upon himâ€"â€" filled his heart, with passionate, rapâ€" turous delight. To please her he would have devot- ed every waklng moment of his life to the boy. He began his task at once. He bought the prettiest. and most amusing books he could select, to make learning to read pleasant to him. He worked with zeal and will and fervor, content if, during the course of the lessens, Vivien came in and rewarded him with a smile. One morning when she stood before them with her sweet, grave, lumin- ous smile on her face, the boy cried out suddenlyâ€" “ I say. Vivien, you do not look wickâ€" ed. you know." "\Vho says I am “nicked, Oswald 3” she asked. “Mamma told me so. She said you hated me because I had taken Lance- wood from you. To hate is wickedâ€"â€" so, if you hate me, you must be Wick- ed." ' l " I do not hate you," she replied, "I pray to Heaven to make you a good man.” ’ To be continued. __..___ GRAINS OF GOLD. The wavering mind is but a base possessionâ€"Euripides. Immortality is the glorious discov- ery of Christianity.â€"Channing. He censures God who quarrels with the imperfections of menâ€"Burke. Hundreds would never have known want if they had not first known wasteâ€"Spurgeon. The amplest knowledge has the largâ€" est faithâ€"Ignorance is always incred-, ulous.â€"\Villmott. A true and genuine impudence is ever the effect of ignorance, without the least sense of it.â€"-Steele. Our first impulses are good, gener- ous, heroic-at; reflection weakens and kills thanâ€"L. A. Martin. People seldom improve when they have no other model than themselves to copy afterâ€"Goldsmith. Nature knows no pause in her pro- gress and development, and attaches her curse on all inactionâ€"Goethe. Mutabitlity of temper and inconsist- ency with ourselves is the greatest weakness of human nature.-Addi- son. A. man has no more right to say an tin-civil thing than to act one; no more right to say a rude thing to anâ€" other than to knock him downâ€"Johnâ€" son. Few things are impossible in them- selves. It is not so much means as per-; severance that is wanting to bring them to a successful issue.â€"Rochefouâ€" cauld. The greatest of all human benefits, that, at least, \tm'thout which no other benefit can be truly enjoyed, is rude- pendenceâ€"Parke Goodwin. .â€".â€"â€"â€" A LANtlT.RY INCIDENT. About twenty years ago, while vis- iting in Jersey, I attended the annu- al regatta. The Jersey Lily. then in the first flush of her success. and in the prime of her beauty, was present, and the observed of all observers. Durâ€" ing one of the tiresome pauses inci- dental to regattas. a poor, old, lame avoman came hobbling around among ;the spectators, and vainly tried to sell but these things Vivien knew he could , not have. Evil indeed would be the day when Laucewcod became his. She found also. that although he was six years of age, he did not even know his apha‘r;ct. There was abut- ile every morning in the nursery when the nurse tried to teach him his lot- ters, and he always came off victor- ious. Vivien was grieved and distress- 1ed; matters were even worse than she she returned with. \thn the house, she went at once in search of UL‘l‘llitl Dcrinan. and [t ill him. some trinkets, principally made of the so frequently seen in these islands. But the pleasure seekâ€" ers wanted none of her little wares, and the poor old soul was dejectedly “ending her way out again, when orner shells, ‘Mrs. Lunglry sprung down from her seat. and, alter a shrirt colloquy in ‘Jersey French with the owner of the 'trywornan. basket, seized it ‘lllll saucin went among the crowdâ€"needless to say, with very di’fercnt success from that of her old and crippled fellow coun- Thc old \vomin poured ‘forth voluble blessings in the Norman paints, as li:-r basket was handed back to her by the Smiling and radiant Lily â€"dovr,7d. iztltwd. U" ‘il’lt’lls‘, but Well furnished with silver, gold, and crisp “ It is not often," he said, "that a bank notes. How BELIEF DAME. A WELLAND COUNTY MAN‘S IN- TERESTING EXPERIENCE. llc Ilzul Snfl‘crml for l'cars l’rum Klan"! 'l‘roublcâ€"lluny Vlcdlclncs Were Trlcdp It"! Fnllcdâ€"Ur. “‘llllnms' I‘luk I'llll Saved ltlm. Mr. James Upper, cf Allenburg. isa gentleman well known in Welland county. BIr. [prior was proprietor 0d the village hotel for over thirty years, and no better landlord ever catered to a traveller‘s wants. Mr. Upper’s ac- quaintance also extends over Ontario as a sequel to his prominence in Orange and llIasoniccirt-lcs. His present voca- tion is farming and in this calling he has been very successful. Mr. Upper has been] a sufferer for years from kidney trouble and began to think that good health had altogether pass- ed him by; but the time came when he found a complete cure and is again strong. happy and vigorous. In regard to Mr. Upper‘s sickness and cure he says:â€"â€""ln December of 1897 I was ,prnstl‘ated with a severe form of ‘kid- ney trouble. Previous to this I was slightly afflicted in the same way,but at this time matters came to a climax as the result of: exposure and over- exertion. To say that I suffered does not express it; the pains in my book were terrible. I gradually grew worse and was compelled to keep my bed and for months I existed as though in a hideous dream. [ had considerable nausea, and loathing for food, was greatly reduced in flesh. The pain Idaily grew more intolerable. I got .little sleep; was left weak and er- hausted, and dcspaired of gettin 'well. Different remedies were trl lwithout benefit. Finally I was» per- isuaded to try Dr, Williams’ Pink Pills and procured six boxes. This was about March lst, 1898. I took the pills faithfully and at; the end of two months I felt well againt and able to attend to my work. The following autumn I experienced a slight re- currence of the trouble and again used a few boxes of the pills and now ‘consider my cure complete ass year has since passed and I have not ex- perienced a pain or ache. I am now able to follow farming pursuits with ‘perfect ease. My wife also speaks as .warme in favor of Dr. Williams’ Pink Pills as I do, having used them for headache, dizziness and lose of appo- tite, the pills always giving comfort and relief. Since my illness I have learned that a good remedy is none tthe less good because its cost was so much less than Iexpected.” ..~__ WORTH REMEMBERING. A good rule to remember when one has costly rings and the habit of tak- ing them off when the hands are washed, which, by the way, should al~ way she done if one wishes to take, the ,proper care of the stones, is always to place them between the lips. says a writer in the Criterion. If the hab- it is once formed it becomes second na- ‘ture, and prevents adding another item to the columns of loss, relating lto rings left in hotels, strange dress-â€" ‘ing rooms and other places. Said. a :woinan who his a magnificent collec- ltion of rings, and who has! wisely ex~ vercised this habit since its inception: “I have never lost one or mislaid it. and, what is just as important, [have never been through all the worrying anxiety of believing I had lost some ‘one or all of them." The woman whose fingers are clothed with flashy -brilliants up to the joint mayl remona strate that she has no room between her ruby lips, in which case there are two remedies, one, to enlarge the ,mouth. the other, to reduce the numâ€" ‘ber of rings to that proportion which marks the Woman of taste. ...__+ _ , SHIELDS FOR MODERN WARRIORS, Recent experiments eL Sheffield, England, suggest the possibility that in the twentieth century shields may ,once more form an important part of the equipment of an army. Steel. shields, three millimetres in thickness and about 150 square inches in area, 'have been devised, which afford com- .plete protection against bullets fired from the service rifle at a range of l 490 yards. The small size of the shield, .which weigh. only seven pounds, re- 'quires that the soldier shall lie prone on the ground in order to be sheltered. lEach shield has a loophole for the rifle and studs at the sides so that aseries of them can be linked into a contin- uous screen. The idea is that by the use [if such shields the. necessity of digging trenches may often be avoid- ed. ____.__ MAGIC MIRRO RS. In Japan what is known as the magic mirror is seen everywhere. Ac. cording to a Japanese myth, the first magic mirror was invented to tempt the sunâ€"goddess to come out of a cave in which she had secreted herself. On the back of the mirror are seen birds, flowers, dragons and mythological scenes, in l"|l!~'f'ti designs, artistically executed. \\'hen looked at directly the real mirror reflects the object in front of it just the same as an ordin- ary mirror does, but “(hull a bright light is re’lected from its highlyâ€" polished surface on It) a screcn there is at once depicted on the screen a brigh'-lined image on a dark ground, representing the raised designs on the back of the mirror. _â€"â€"â€".â€"â€" Private J. Burns, of the Scottish Rifles, who was officially returned as kE‘led at Magcr.â€"fontein, has written l') his parents stating that his sufo ft-ring from two wounds. x....