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England to find his long lost cousin in San Francisco. Maula Carringâ€" ford, an actress in that city, is pesâ€" tered by genteel loafers amongst deep flush dyed her face, and with a /e:oo)go:n:n:n:o 0:. 0:00:00} 9:»:0 0:. 0:. 0:. oz. 9:. 0:»:0 0:. 0:. 9:. ozoezn:»:oo:u:o 9:9 0:90} {aozoozuzuzuzuto 9:9 0:“:0 o:«:»:. 9.’ ,0, .9. t. . , .3. ‘ 0:. 0’9 9 o ’3' : By the Author of..... z I" 0.. 0:. '3‘ ‘g: " A Clipsy'l Daughter," ‘3' D O l 0. .85 .f. .v. ” Another flun's \Vifc." of 0'. of. o o z. .0. “ A Heart's Bitterness.” .3. ' O . . .g. o o e o o o v Eta. Etc. '3' o e (o 0‘. : Q O O O 0‘. 0‘. ’3. a. 0.. 0:00:00? 0:90} 0:90:04. 0:. 0:0 9:00;»? 0:. 9:0 0:. ozuzuzuzo 0:0 .3. 0:00.. 0:0 0:0 0:0 ozwzntv 0:. oz. .20 oz. 0:4 0:0 6:0 0:0 0:960 0:. 0:00.33? SYNOPSIS 0F PRECEDING go to the ends of the earth to serve CHAPTERSâ€"G uy Hartleigh leaves ,you." He turned sadly away and went to- ward the gate. For a moment she stood still watching him. Then a whom is Caryl Wilton. j CHAPTER II.â€"Cont.inued. . It was half an hour, perhaps, after 'Caryl Wilton had left the theatre, that a. carriage drew up in front of an humble cottage, strangely out of keeping with the be who alighted from the Carriage, sued the front gate, and walked up the narrow wooden walk with the air of one who is accustomed to the place. As she reached the house she heard the gate open and shut, and turning quickly, she saw the form of a man rapidly approaching. She waited, more in wonder than in fear. He drew near, and said, in a. low tone: “Miss Carringford, may I speak a word with you?” . For a moment she was at a loss to recognize him, although the voice was familiar; but in an instant she realized that the man she had been forced to play Juliet with had fol- lowed her to this lonely spot. Her indignation overmastered every other feeling, and drawing herself up to her full, quecnly height, she pointed to the gate, and said, with scornful emphasis: “This is a cowardly insult!" “I beg you to hear me, Miss Carâ€" i'ingford.“ She abated nothing of her haughty manner, but dropped her hand by her side with an air so full of con- tempt that the proud man before her was stung by it to exclaim: : “You have no right to be unjust. l I could have annoyed you at the theatre had I been so minded. I followed you here to give you the advantage, which I hoped you would be generous enough not to use." "Generous!" she exclaimed with sudden passion. "You do well to talk to me of generosity. You have insulted me with notes, gifts and im- portunity. Generous! Is a thief generous who refrains from stealing at one time in order to do it at an- other? How is an insult lessened by a. change of time or place? You have the manner of a. gentlemanâ€" does none of the spirit of one ani- mate you? I say to you, I will have nothing to do with such as you. Go!” Caryl‘s face became white as he listened to this scathing arraign- ment of himself, but he obstinater refused to move. “What you say,” he said in a. low voice, "has every semblance of truth but you do me an injustice. You shall listen to me." She turned to go, but he put his hand out and touched her on the arm restrainingly. She threw it off with the exclamation: “Do not dare to touch 11.0 He bowed deprecatingly, and went on: “You are partly right; I did write to you, I did send you jewels, and I [lid force you to play Juliet to my Romeo. I was wrong. But even you must in your heart acknowledge that I have never failed in respect to you.” “Was it respect whenâ€"â€" “I know what you would say. I grant freely that the act was lackâ€" In H lug in respect. but the spirit never“ was. But you do not know the worst yet. You see, I would have you know all before I plead my Cause.” _ “Consistently generous,” she said bitterly. “I acted as I did because I had made a. bet that before this week was out I would drive you to the ' Clifl‘ house." "And you dare to tell me! In- lanious! Unhand me; I uill listen to no more.” “One word." “Not a syllable." “You must." "Must?" “Yes; must. i l I ! autiful creaturei ()p. i latchâ€"key. .of shame as he followed Mnida Carâ€" l l 1 l I l l i . i [felt By the right which Itliings he had. every man has to tell his respectful lcame iless; not with the hasty love of toâ€" , growing you. 'until this night when I was thrilled proud gesture she sprang after him, and, placing her hand on his shouldâ€" or, said, coldly: "Come with me. "Ilutâ€"â€"” "Come with me." She led the way into the house, the door of which she opened with a n l 1 CHAPTER III. Caryl could u not repress a feeling ringford into the house, but it (lid not deter him from seeing the ad- venture to the end. . Ile loved Maida. Carringford, not with the in(onstant love born of bafllc-d desire, but with the strength of a man who for a long time has loved unconsciously, and has just learned the real nature of his feelings. He followed her be- cause he hoped to discover some- thing of her inner life, and perhaps to have an opportunity to speak with her, to again urge his love. She silently led the way to what seemed to be a sort of sittingâ€"room. A lamp stood on a. round, draped table, shedding a soft, low light about the room; and for a. moment Caryl saw nothing but the general, homeâ€"like aspect of the place. Miss Carringford, however, abruptly took his attention from the room by siâ€" lently but imperiously pointing to a highâ€"backed rocking chair in the shadow. He turned his eyes that way, and started, as he nLtSCOd for the first time an oldâ€"looking Woman with her eyes closed in sleep. From her he turned to Miss Cuiringford, and, holding out his hands, said, in a low, pleading tone: “Maida, will you listen to me?" “No,” she answered proudly. "I have brought you here to repel your last and grossest insult. I have let you come here that you might see my mother, the only being on earth 1 care for. Now, go. and if you have a touch of manhood you will not ofTend my ears by uttering anâ€" other word." He returned her haughty glance by one almost as stern, as he answered: “I shall speak once more, and then I will leave you. I have offered you my honorable love, and you have seen fit to reject it with harsh and scornful words. I love you none the day, but with a love that has been since the day I first saw I did not recognize the feeling by the touch of your hand, when I looked down into the depths of your eyes and saw your soul, when I felt your warm breath on my cncek, and realized your purity and womanliâ€" mess; but now that I do know my feeling toward you, do you fancy I will give you up for a harsh word or a. scor-iful look? Some day you will perch’ince hear of Caryl Wilton, and know of him that he never yields but to success or fate. And new, 1 saf; again, that come what may, success or failure, joy or sor- row, whether you have a, thousand friends or none, Caryl Wilton will always be ready to serve you, and that too, without reward of Word, look, or act. I will even dare to save you from yourself, if the need should be. Farewell." He left her, and she watched him go without a word. She heard the door close behind him. and then she sank upon a chair, and the reaction came. She was but a girl, and she had had a hard part to play, and she played it as her best judgment dictated. She could not but ac- knowledge to herself the manliness, the strength of purpose. and the sinâ€" cerity of the man who had just left her, and she quailed as she realized that he was in deadly earnest when he said he would not give her up for a harsh word or a scornful look. And then she grew indignant as she he had no right to say the And at la-st she beâ€" frightened at the thought of iove to the woman who has inspired ’the trials that lay before her if she lt. lvord or act it has misjudged you. and I not only love you. “No.” “You cannot mean it!” “Cannot mean it!” she repeated with cutting scorn. "And is the honor you offer me so gloat. then. that it is incredible that I should refuse it?" “If you became my wife I should be the honored one. Will you not tell me why you refuse?" "It is enough that I refuse. If you are the gentleman that you pre- tend to be, you will detain me no longer." She had never spoken in a loud tone, and a sudden suspicion seemed to flash through Caryl’s mind as he noticed the lonely position of the house. He glanced from it to her and said: “Another has the happines'which I have, too late. craved for myself. I will go; but. remember, MaidaNC-ar- riiigford. ‘be time may come when you will need a. true friend. I have a feeling that it will. If it should. do not forget that Caryl \l'ilton will Will you be my wife?" If I have offended you by any icontinued been because I jshe at once loved and loathed; loved I know you now, {for the respect you. but I iloathed for the sorrow and shame it on the stageâ€"the stage happiness it gave her, and daily threatened her with. And at last she laid her head in htr hands, and wept tears of anger and despair. But she did not weep long, for she heard a qucrulous voice Calling her, and she sprang up, dryingr her tears and hiding the traces of them under a smile of love, which transformed the indignant woman into a lovely girl. “Mother dear," she said as she ran to where the old woman sat. “I thought I heard you, Maida. You have been crying. Why do you cry?" “I suppose I am tired, mother.” “It is not tlll. t. Was there a good house tonight?" “Yes. dear” "Did it applaud?" “Never more. I had four recalls." "Then why do you cry?" “Girls often cry, mother. mind me. How do you feel?" “Better.” “Oh, then, I shall laugh. dear!" and a truly happy smile transformed her face. Don't "You love me. Mama?" "How Can you ask, mother dear? What is the matter tonight? You do not seem like yourself." “I am not always so cross and faultâ€"finding am I?" "You never are; but sick people have a right to be humori-d.” “Until I grew sick I was never cross, never anything but fond and lovingâ€"Was I )laida?" There was a touching eagerness in her tone that drew the tears to Maida's eyes again, .'lll’.l she anâ€" swered, with tender solicitudo: “Never, other; nor Since you have been sick have you been unkind or unloving. I have not seemed to complain, have I?" “No; you have been a good (laugh- ter, Maida; a better daughter than I deserved. But I have tried to be kind to you. I have ruined your young life," she said, more as if to herself than to her daughter; “but what has an outcast to look to but a. ruined life. You hate the stage. Maida; that is why you cried!" she exclaimed abruptly. "No, no. mother!" “You do, Maidaz and I hate it, too. I hate it! He saw me there first and took me from it; took me from it because I was Sought after by the whole of his gay world, and he had sworn to have me. He would not be balked, and I yielded to his importunity, You would not yield. I have, at least, done more for you than my mother (lid for me. Curse him for itâ€"curse him! curso him!" She sank back in her Cl'illl, from which she had half risen in her exâ€" citcment; and Maida. with a, (‘rm‘pâ€" ing horror to see her mother so. cried out: "Mother, darling. what are you saying?” “You think I am raving. Would to heaven I were! IlaiLla”â€"she grasped her daughter by the wrist-â€" “I will tell you now what I have reâ€" served for this moment. I was never as great as you, never had the genius; but 1 was much talked of and more sought after. I was the talk of London. Your father found me a gay, lightâ€"hearted child. ready to listen to the flatteringr words of all who cared to give them to me, but as guiltless of wrong as yourself. He was a great nobleman, with what they call an unstained name He was handsome, dashing. red-Jess and rich. I was flattered by his attenâ€" tions, and believed him when he said he loved me. I did love him. and I gave him all 1 had to giveâ€"my honorâ€"in return for his protestaâ€" tions of love. Do you understand, Maida? I have never worn a wedâ€" ding ring, because I never had the right. You hang your head. Is it for shame of me?" "No. mother." “You do not hate me?" "No, mother." “But your father?” "He has gone where he will re- ceive his judgment," was the broken answer. “He has not!" screamed the old Woman. “He lives now!” “You told me he was dead." “But I spoke not the truth. I was not ready for you to know. He lives, and I hate him even. as I once loved him. Listen to me, Maida, and if your soft heart cries out for forgiveness to him, steel it against him. Do you think he had even the poor excuse of love for betraying me? For blightiug my young life and making me an outcast? For making my innocent child an outâ€" cast? Not for an instant. He made a betâ€"mark this Maidaâ€"he had made a bet that he Would succeed where others had failed, and he suc- ceeded. For a while I was happy-â€" oh, for such a brief while! And even before you were born. at a time when my condition should have evoked only love and tenderness, he left me. Maida, he gave me a purse of gold and left me." “My poor mother!” Maid-a. whispered “And then he married a, girl to whom he gave the love he had sworn was mine." "Why talk more of it, mother? It is past and gone now." . “Past and gone for me, but not for you, Maid-a. Do you think I ha\e lived my wretched life with no thought of him? Do you think I have forgiven any more than I have forgotten? Do you thin‘; I could daily and hourly see myself what he has made me, and think nothing of paying him back in coin of the same sort. Do you think I would have made you go on that star, which I have hated from the hour he saw me on it, unless I had some object in view? Maida, I am dyingâ€"-â€"" “No, no, mother!” “I am dying and I know it. I shall not live to see the morning, otherwise I would not have told you this story of my shame It is with my dying breath that I speak to you." “Let me seek a doctor." She endeavored to loose the band upon her wrist. “A doctor? No. I would not have him help me if he could; but I know he could not. I am dying. and the aid of man is useless. I want you to realize that, Maid-a, for I would ask a last promise of you." “Yes. mother,” with an involunâ€" tary shudder, for her motl'cr's man- ner was full of a vindictive fierceâ€" ness, the more awful that it was in the presence of death. "Have I your promise?" Yes, mother." “Whom do you most pity, me or your father?" “Oh, my mother, can you ask?" Was the mournful response. “You pity me. then. Anl do you not hate the man who couhl so be tray a fond and loving Woman? Reâ€" member. ._-. .... . .. as I have thrown Do you not hate, him?" if instruction around you. “1 hate the act. I do not know the man." » “Do not know the man! Have. 1 not told you how he Heated me? Would you now, if you could, go to him and be a daughter to him?" "Never! If I were to see him. father though he be, I should despise him." "Hate him, Haidaâ€"hate him!" cried the old woman with a fierce light in her dimming eye. "And promise me this. that you she him with a vengeance will pur- to which [have devoted my own life and yours. Promise me!" "llut, mothcrvâ€" " “Would you hesitate after I have told you of my wrongs? is he not worthy of your hair?" "Alas. yes. Worthy of all woâ€" men's hate." "Then why do you hesitate?" "What can I do? I am lllll. a. woâ€" man, as you were, and I may err, :isâ€"-â€"" "As I did? Never! Maida (‘arring- ford can never make the mistake her mother did. Will you take up the work of vengeance where I have laid it down? Remember, I am asking you with my dying breath.” "It shall to as you sav. mother. I will do what you ask of me You have but to show me how," “You will not falter?" “No. I will pursue your betrayer to the bitter end. Until death reâ€" lieves him of your curse, I will do what in me lies to carry out your will." "You say it sadly, my (laughter; but I know you will keep your proâ€" lilst‘. And if (yer you should feel iiclined to turn from your work. think of me and how I have lived because he had no pity. Think of my ruined life. Think of your own life. For do you not know that the sin of the mother is visited on the daughter. Can you ever hope to be anything but the outcast I have been? My sin is the taint of your pure, sinless life. Think of that." To be Continued. v â€"+â€"- CHINESE DENTISTRY. They Have Been Slow in Recogniz- ing Western Superiority. If the Chinese can boast that nothâ€" ing is new to them, and that all the arts and sciences are old stories in the Celestial Kingdom, it is still true that for operations in dentistry an American or European would hardly care to go to a Chinaman. The work is ludicrously primitive. The operator extracts all teeth with his fingers, and it must be admitted that his success is astonishing. His dexterity is due to years of practice. From youth to manhood he is train- ed to pull pegs from a wooden board. This training changes the aspect of the hand, and gives the student a finger grip amazing in strength, equivalent in fact to a lifting power of three or four hundred pounds. For toothache he employs opium, peppermint oil, cinnamon oil and clove oil. Sometimes he fills teeth, but he does it so bunglingly that the fillings stay in only a few months. An element of superstition runs through all the work. According to the system, all dental woes are brought on by tooth worms. The nervu pulp is such a worm, and is always shown to the patient. For humbugging purposes, also, the denâ€" tist carries about, in his pocket some white grubs, and after he has ex- tracted a tooth he shows a grub to the sufferer as the cause of all the trouble. The position of the dentist of this class is not very lofty among his countrymen, and he is regarded as halfâ€"way in social importance tween a barber and a laborer, which is certainly a great injustice to the honest laborer. â€"â€"â€"<>â€"- A ll’IONTI-I IN A BATH. One Old Man. Stays In_During a Whole Winter. At Kawanaka, a tiny spring near Ikao, in the province of Joshu, Ja- pan, the bathers stay in the water for a month on end, with a stone in their laps to prevent them from. floating in their sleep; and the caretaker of this establishment, who is a hale old man of eighty, is in the habit of reâ€"l maining in the bath during the whole winter. Elsewhere, also, indulgence in this natural luxury is carried to almost incredible extremes. Some of the people at one of the spas, cxcusing themselves to visitors for being dirty, on the score of only having leisure to bathe twice a day, in- formed them that it was their cus- tom to bathe four or five times a day in the winter, adding: “The children get into the bath whenever they feel cold." Ordinary hotâ€"water bathing is a national institution. In 1890 there were over 800 public baths in the city of Tokyo, in which it was cal- culated 300,000 persons bathed daily at a. cost of about a halfpenny, with a. reduction for children. Other cities and villages throughâ€" out Japan are similarly provided with public baths. Every respect- able house, too, has its bath-room. The water is heated to about 110 deg. Fahrenheit. Some of the springs reach 130 deg. .__°_â€"_ The town of Nasso, in Sweden, has I was as pure all-1 innocent a female contingent in its fire bri- las yourself, With no such Safeguard gade. be- : much harder than quartz, and in ad- !“ On 0 0 Mia” SO SAID THREE DOCTORS 1N CON. SULTATION. Yet the Pollen! [Ins neon Restored to Health and Slrrnglll Through (ha. Agency of Dr. Wllllnms‘ l’luk l'llls. Among the many persons through out Canada who owe good healthâ€" perhaps even life itselfâ€"to Dr. Wilâ€" liams' Pink l‘llls is Mrs. Alcx. l-‘air, a well known and highly esteemed resident of West Williams township, Middlescx County. Out. For nearly two years Mrs. Fair was a great suf- ferer from troubles brought on by a severe attack of lagrippc. A report< or who called was cordially received by both Mr. and Mrs. l"air and was given the following facts of the case: “In the. spring of 1896 I was at- locked by lagrippe for which I was treated by our family doctor but in- stead of getting better I gradually grew worse, until my whole body bc4 came racked with pains. I consulted one of the best doctors in Ontario and for nearly eighteen months fol< lowed his treatment but without any material benelit. I had a terrible cough which caused intenSe pains in my head and lungs; I became very weak; could not sleep, and for over a year I could only talk in a whisper and sometimes my voice left me eu’ tirely. 1 came to regard my condiâ€" tion as hopeless, but my husbuno urged further treatment and on his advice our family doctor, with two others, held a consultation the rc< suit of which was that they pro- nounced my case incurable. Neigh- bors advised me to try Dr. Willinins’ I‘ink I’ills, but after having already spent over $300 in doctor’s bills I did not have much faith left in any medicine but as a last resort I finâ€" ally decided to give them a trial. I had not taken many boxes of the pills before I noticed an improve- ment in my condition and this onâ€" courang me to continue their use. After taking the pills for several months I was completely restored to health. The cough disappeared; I no longer suffered from the terrible pains I once endured; my voice be- came strong again; my appetite im- proved, and I was able to obtain restful sleep once more. While tak- ing the pills I gained 37 pounds in weight. All this I owe to Dr. Wilâ€" liams’ Pink Pills and I feel that I cannot say enough in their favor for I know that they have certainly saved my life." In cases of this kind Dr. Williams' Pink Pills will give more certain and speedy results than any other medicine. They act directly on the blood thus reaching the root of the trouble and driving every vestige of disease from the system. Sold by all dealers in medicine or sent post paid at 50 cents a box, or six boxes for $2.50 by addressing the Dr. Wil- liams Medicine 00., Drockville, Ont. .___..___â€" PRECIOUS STONES. You Should Hammer Diamonds to Test Them. You can test diamonds by merely hitting them with a hammer. 1f the stone resists, it is certain to be genuine; if it does not, the damage is insignificant, as only an imitation has been destroyed. This test, how- ever, is doubtful with rubies. If a ruby can be affected by a steel file or by quartz it is surely not genu- ine; but such a. test with a topaz is liable to injure a valuable stone. The test for hardness is of no avail with emeralds, as this stone is not dition, possesses the quality of crack ing easily. For examining rubies and emer- alds, the optical test is best. Every expert knows that almost all pro- cious stones havelittle flaws. Near- ly every ruby and all emeralds have many defects, which are so charac- teristic that the:genuinencss of the stones is readily established. Such a. test is very necessary with rubies,beâ€" cause the imitations are very deâ€" ceiving. Their colour is absolutely durable, and often much finer than that of the genuine, although it may be stated that a. somewhat yellowâ€" ish tint is always suspicious. The only reliable way in which genuine rubies can be told from imi- tations is by the minute airâ€"bubbles of the latter, which become clearly visible under the magnifyingâ€" glass. These are not to be found in the natural gem; on the other hand the imitations lack certain defects characteristic of the genuine rubiesâ€"â€" certain vacuums, whose outlines are much more indistinct than those of the air-bubbles in imitations. ,â€"_°_.__ A CHINESE COLLEGE FOR LON- DON. In future if you want to learn Chinese there will be no need to travel to China to do it. A Chinese college is to be established in Lon- don; and, though the college is not yet built. some of the professors have already arrived and have start- cd work. The professors wear their ordinary Oriental garments when taking classes, and many pupils have joinedâ€"Army men, engineers. city clerks, and budding diploma- tists. Of course, there have long been Chinese professors at Oxford and Cambridge, but this is the first venture of the kind where the teach- ers are all natives of the Celestial Empire.