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“I do not; think there is anything marvellous in it. An actress is bOl‘lL You know yourself. Lady Gladys, that all the studying in the world will not. make an actress where nature has been niggardly. Miss Hartleigh is evidently a born actress. And then I think we are appearance! " It was a little thing to disturb the harmony or bring color to the pale face, but it did. There was a. mo- ment's pause in the clamor, a pause as of doubt, and all eyes were fixed on the downcast eyes, hidden by the white lids and long lashes. “The first time! Is it, not. marvel- lous?" repeated Lady Gladys, turn- ing from one to another, but. keeping her sharp eyes on Maida. Slowly the dark head was raised. but before she could speak a. word, a. voice, low and deep, said slowly. and with a sort of cutting emphasis which made it seem to mean more than it said: A vast, wideâ€"stretching gulf seemed to yawn between them. He alone said no word of praise, While the rest. in an eager clamor, exclaimed and apostrophized. Suddenly, in a little pause, as Maidu sat fanning herself. and grad- ually coming back into her usual calm self-possession, came a thin, clear voiceâ€"that of Lady Gladys. Even now the Words came with dif- ficulty. and he contented himself with bending low over her outstretched hand and kissing it with the rever- ence of a devotee toward his saint. Guy stood apart and moodin Watch- ed her with a grave and wistful look. How could he ever hope to possess the love of this peerless creature? It seemed to him now more than ever before, that a. vast distance lay beâ€" tween them. There had once been a question of his marrying her, though she might; not be his equal. Was not the question now, as to whether he was her equal? She forgot everything until it Was all over. Then she remembered what she (had done, and realized what it meant. She saw it in the look on the face of the man who had led her before the footlights to receive the [need of applause Which she had earn- ed. And she knew now at what a price she had earned it. If he had had any doubts before he had none now. He knew for a cer- tainty that Constance Hartleigh and Maida Cari‘ingford were the same person. He knew she was the per- son Who had so scornfully spurned his suit in that. far away time when she was Maida Cai‘ringiord. She saw it on his face. Well, he might know it. What then? Could he prove it? Would he prove it? Had he fixed upon a price for his silence? He said nothing to her. she noth- lng to him. He took her hand and led her oli‘ the stage. They met Lord Alg'y in the wings. Almost as white as herself, Algy was the first to speak. He had'stood leaning against the scene Watching her, the tears running down his pale, thin checks, his lips quivering, his hands clasped, all his artistic nature moved to its greatest depths. And after that first Struggle with herself she thought no more of the consequences, but played with all her heart and soul. It was a. Wonderful performance which she and Caryl Wilton gave that titled audience. She forgot, in the abandon of the true artist, that the handsome face, the deep musical voice, belonged to the one who could ruin her at a word, to the man she had sent from her with outstretched hand. and eyes from which blazed that most terrible of thingsâ€"a. pure Woman's anger. SYNOPSIS 0F PRECEDING CHAPTERSâ€"Guy Hurtleigh leaves England to find his long lost cousin in San Francisco. Mania. Carring- ford, an actress in that city, is pes- tered by genteel loafers amongst whom is Caryl Wilton who proposes and is rejected. She learns the ntory of her mother’s betrayal by Sir Richard Hartleigh. Sir Rich- ard's child, Constance. Whom Guy is seeking, dies, and Maids. ini- persomites her and is tak- un to Hartleigh Hall, Where she be- comes the idol of the household. A fete is given in her honor at Vyner Castle during which it is suggested that she take part in some amateur theatricals. Mildred Thorpe. an un- employed American girl in London is exhausted by her fruitless efforts to obtain work. After seCuring en- Easement as country church organ- 151; she is about to faint when she is assisted by Carl Wilton who is struck assisted by Caryl Wilton who is struck by her likeness to Maids Car- Tingfm‘d- He visits the Duke of Belâ€" daire at whose seat the amateur act- ors are disconcerted by the loss of their Romeo. He is persuaded to act as substitute. And when they had left the stage a. scene of the wildest description followed. The audience, held in breathless suspense until they had gone, broke out into cheers and cries and old Sir Richard fairly wept with the joy of what his daughter had done. 32' . Mama’s o . 0 ¢ 0 o o o o o o «.00; 0.00.09.06240}... .0.u.oo.oo.o o 0 ~ o o Mo..¢4:0:bo.o o. 0 o 9 9 o o 0 0:5 0.9 0‘. 0.0 9'. op o“... o o o o 0 Q o o 0 ¢ a . «MMKW'fifi'fi . . <° '3“. .“3':W1'_‘~".”€'o“o“o”o‘93W“? #3" "3”; CHAPTER XIV.â€"Continued self-possession, came a thin, voiceâ€"that of Lady Gladys. nd only think, this is her first .1rm1ce! " Secret The exposure? Yes, that was someâ€" thingâ€"a. great deal: but. after all, it was the tender loving care to which she had so unconsciously accustomed herself. She loved the old manâ€"lov- ed him at a child might a. father who had done her no wrong. She had promised to Wrong him in re- turn, it is true, and she had shaped all her actions to that end; but, come weal or woe. she promised her- self that she would henceforth take all the love he could give her, and requite it in such kind that he would never let her be taken from him. What if he should die? He did not look strong. She noticed it more now than before. He was not what he had been when she came to him. Suppose he should (lie and the ex- posure should come afterward? Then it flashed through her mind that. safety lay in marrying Guyâ€"‘ 01‘, now that there was a. Witness of her falseness. did it‘come to her more- strongly than ever before that. she was, in plain words. an impos- tor? She had a. right to the love and admiration of the old man who drew 1101‘ to his side with such a. tender touch of his trembling hand. But had she a right, to the humility with which he looked at; her. as if begging her pardon for the liberty of loving her? But he was her father. she told her- self with an inward agony. the great- er that. it was hidden by a smiling face. And she wanted his love. She had never realized before that she needed some loveâ€"some pure and dis- interested love. She was not, as she had been, cold and hard. Her life had seemed to have been impercepti- bly changing her. She was eon‘ fronted by a great danger. And What was the danger? She had thought from the very force of habit that. What she would most dread would be the loss of the opportunity to avenge her mother’s wrongs, and that the Shame of an exposure would sting her. But now that the danger was at hand, what was it she dreaded most? It was apparent at once that Maida was the bright particular star of the evening, for no sooner did she make her appearance in the drawing-room than she was surrounded by a throng of admiring people, each eager to do homage to the genius which had held them enthralled. She knew they looked upon her as something above them, and removed from them by a. touch of the divine. And what did she know of herself? What had the last hour brought. to her consciousness? Was it not that she might at any moment be hurled from her high place? Was it not that. it rested with the whim of a man Whether or nor she should con- tinue to hold the high place she had usurped? run was that all that troubled her? Was it only that she might lose the good things of the world to which she had so accustomed herself that it had begun to seem as if they actual- ly did belong to her? Ah, what Maida would have given if she could have slipped away to Where she could commune alone with her thoughts. But that was denied to her, and she put as good a. face as she could upon it, and permitted Lord Algy to lead her to the drawâ€" ing-room, all dressed as she was as Juliet. "I think I understand, Mr. Wilton. It, is very good advice." "And if I might add to what I have said," he went on, with a peâ€" culiar smile hovering about; his lips, “it would be that Miss Hartleigh is in need of a rest." She knew that he had meant that it would be dangerous for her to again run the risk of being discover- ed as he had discovered her. She forced a. quiet smile to her lips, and sanly. almost painfully answered: losing sight of one who deserves more credit than he is likely to getâ€" I mean Lord Algy, Whose manage- ment has had a great deal to do with Miss Hm‘tlcigh’s success. "Thanks. old fellow; but suppose you take some credit. I am sure Miss Hartlcigh will agree with me that, the performance owes a great. deal to you.” CHAPTER XV. By “1: Author oi..." A Olpsy'a Daughter." Another Nun’s Wlle.“ A Heart's Bitterncss.” Etc.. Etc. deserves to getâ€" manage- 11 to do She sank back and sobbed and laughed and sobbed alternately in mild hysterics. It was the first time she had ever done such a thing, and it told how great the strain on her nervous system had been. Sir Richard was greatly alarmed at first, but he soon saw that her ex- citement was wearing itself off and becoming less, so he did nothing but gently soothe her and say reassuring loving words to her. And for the-first time since her homeâ€"coming she threw her arms around his neck and voluntarily kis- sed him. And it was done in such a. fond. sweet way that he was reasâ€" sured as to her illness, and put it down as nothing but fatigue; even enjoying the thought in his loving heart. that he had a confidence with that peerless daughter of his whom nobody else might know was anyâ€" thing but the proud, self-sustaining creature she seemed. He went 017 to his room to dream of her voluntary kiss and embrace. And Maidu, What did she in her room? She had told her maid not to wait for her. and so she was alone with her thoughts, just as on that first night she had been alone with them. She said this almost in a Whisper, but it was all distinct, enough to the old man. who even in the midst of his alarm could not but; rejoice to hear her (cal: so. “If you did but know. my darling, how happy you make me, you would be happy yourself." “I happy!" she cried, almost wildâ€" ly. “Whoâ€"why should I not be hapâ€" py? I am happy, father." “You are tired toâ€"night, dear, and you must be careful. You must, not indulge in too much of this exciteâ€" ment." “No. no. I won’t, I won’t," she sa’id, putting his hand with a pathet- ic tenderness. “I will not play again. It does excite me. Butâ€"but it does not matter for this once, for if I had not; been a little excited I might. not have told you how I love you. You see. I needed you to know it, and that is Why I told you. Oh, let me cry! Do not mind. It. will do me good." There was a, surprising pleading in her voice and manner, and the old man, who had never seen her so beâ€" fore Was frightened. “But, I do love you, father. And I need your love. I need it, father. You understand that, don’t you? If I ever seemed not toâ€"to-â€"be responâ€" sive, you Will forget, it, will you not, and think of me as I am nowâ€"as your loving daughter?" He leaned forward and took her two hands in his, saying, tremulous- 1y: “It is nothing. father,” she an- swered, feverishly. "It is nothing at all. Father, has it ever seemed to you that, I was not grateful for the love you give me? Has it ever seem- ed as if I did not love you enough in return? Tell me, father, dear." "No. my darling," he answered, reassuringly; “you have loved me more than I have deserved, but not; more than I would give my life to have.” "My darling, my darling, my preâ€" cious one!" cried Sir Richard, in alarm. “Is it more than fatigue? Is itâ€"â€"â€"" She leaned forward as the carriage drove out of the grounds, for she would like the cool evening air to strike on her fevered face. As she gazed out into the starry darkness she saw a tall figure standing under the gloom of a tree. It was a man and he had his hands in his pockets and he was smoking. And there was that in the poise of the figure and the very air which told her that it was Caryl Wilton, who had not gone to bed. He was out there, and he was thinking of her. Oh, Heaven! was there no escape from him? She fell back in the carâ€" riage with a. little gasp of terror, and buried her face in her hands. good. noble Guy. But. there againâ€"- would Caryl Wilton let her marry Guy? And yet she would not play with that true heart, for her own sal- vation. And why? Because down in her heart she knew she did not love him. and could not love him. He was her chance of safety and he was noble and good, and she might have him for the Wishing. Then there was Caryl Wilton, who was her threatening ruin. She knew him by reputation to be a roue, a. man of the world. blase and indilTerent. She believed he would stop at nothing to compel her to be his. Well, and what, was her feeling for him? What was it, indeed? Guy left them to call the carriage. and Muidzt stood listening to the re- grets of the duchess and of the guests that she should leave them so soon. And who was there in all the brilâ€" liant throng who said apter or more witty things than she? And who was there Who hid the anguish that she did? Maida left, the brilliant assemblage with a smile upon her lips and threw herself back among the luxurious cushions of the carriage, with a pray- er that she might, soon be alone With her agony. She had had a. fear all the time that. she remained at the castle that Caryl would return to the drawing- 1'oom, even though she heard him say that he was going to retire. But when he did not, come, and she was actually going away, she fell: a cerâ€" tain relief, as if the inevitable strugâ€" gle had been postponed. “If I could only think calmly, she said to herself. "If I could think away by myself, I could face the dan- ger and estimate it. I may see my way yet. He shall not frighten me by a look." As if Guy comprehended her wish, he said he would sit, with the driver. and so she had with her only the old man‘ Who so devotedly loved her. Buyer: Look here, you ! You said this horse was sound, and kind and free from tricks. The first day I drove him he fell down a. dozen times, and he’s as bad to-day. Dealer: Umâ€"you‘ve been wondering if I cheated you, maybe ? Yes, I have. And the first time you drove the hoss you Wondered if he hadn’t some tricks, didn't you ? Of course. And you kept saying to yourself. I Wonder if that there hoss will tum- ble down, eh ? Probably. And you had your mind on it a good deal. most like? That's true. That's wot's the matter. You've hypnotised him. See ? Poor Willie ! He Walks like a. boy with inflammatory rheumatism, and the last he saw of his owl it was flying over the barn towards the next village. Hoot, hoot, hoot ! just as the old gentleman reached the top of the stairs. He went down like a cart- wheel, and made a hole in the floor as big as the bottom of a tub. Did you hear my owl? shouted Willie, as he came running down from the third storey. Got him in the country yesterday, and hung him in the diningâ€"room when I got home last night. Ain't he a. beauty ? Keep cool, now. Don't go into highstrikes. I'm going down to see what that is, and he unearthed an old muzzleâ€"loading gun which had belonged to his grandfather and had been loaded for thirty years. I’ll show 'em. Every man’s house is- his own castleâ€"" Hoot, hoot, hoot! The father dropped the gun and it blew a whole corner oil the chest of drawers. The daughter dived under the bed and the mother cried mur- der at the top of her voice. Be quiet! ordered the veteran. as he reached for his 'H'Iillm'y. Stay where you are. I'll fight my way to the front door mm get the police. If they start shooting dOWn there don‘t show a. light. I know the house and they don't. John, stay where you are. I'll not let, you go downstairs to be killed. Did you ever hear such a noise ? Mamma, what is it? came in an agitated whisper from the next room and then the daughter rushed wildly into the parental bedchamber. She threw herself down on the bed. all dressed as she was. as if she would let the matter rest there. And “ith her head buried in her hands. she went to sleep. murmuring, with the last. rays of consciousneSS: “I know he loves me.” “Do? I will wait. I will be strong. I will die doing it, but he shall not drive me, he shall not. And will he wish to? Shall I give it up? Shall I tell the old man that‘ I am his daughter, but not the one he thinks? Give up? And for what? Would he not Spurn me? Would not Guy, who loves me so passionately, shrink from me as from a leper? 0h, Heaven! What shall I do? Heaven! I call on Heaven! What shall I do? I shall fight it out to the bitter end! Oh, why, why was it not I who lay there Where my sister lay that dread- ful night? "Now let me f: she said to hersc now. I almost the dear old man. He knows I love the happier for it having told him. of this other. L peril. What have man? What does “13th I did not. and am here to fight the battle with the right all against me. Well. I will fight!" “What does he know? He knows I am Muida. Can‘ingforcl. Yes. Well, what of that? That does not. tell him that I am not also Constance Hal‘tk‘igh. How should he know that I did not. use another name as an incognito? How should he? Then, suppose he should attempt. to expose me, what would I say? I would say that, I had acted as Muida Cm‘ring- ford. Who could prove that I was not Constance Hm‘tleigh? "Yes. yes. That seems easy enough: but is it all? Oh. I am not. “Yes, yes. That seems easy enough; but is it all? ()h. I am not so calm, I am not. Well, well, be calm. thenâ€"be calm. Think as if it was the case of somebody else. Well it is somebody else. then. Maid-4 Carringford! Oh, Heaven! they will know that the real Constance never was an actress! They could prove that Maid-a. Carringford was not Constance, for they had detectives on the track of the real Constance. Yes yes; but did we not go wherever they wentâ€"my mother and Iâ€"where the mother and she went? Then why could I not say that I Was Constance all the time. The places in the book by which I learned to play my part do correSpUnd wonderfully with our own movements. "Well, well. Oh, no. I could not deceive that man. with his awful pen- etration, with his cold, searching eyes looking at me. And his power over me. No, no, he has no power. I was weary with the struggle. He is not the stronger. I will show him again, as I did in San Francisco. I drove him from me then. I was strong then. Ah, but; just Heaven! I was innocent then. What shall I doâ€"what shall I do? IIYPNOTISED THE HORSE WHAT CAUSED THE ROW To be Continued kept saying to yourself. that there hoss will Lum- mc face the situation." herself. "I am calmer most. betrayed myself to man, but I do not. mind. love him and he will be for it. I am happier for him. Now let. me think 1'. Let, me think of the have I to four from this does he know? ; the old p of the a cart- the floor Little drops of water, Little grains of sand You'veflYith hair and lime, 111 Guaranteed to stand. At, the end of a. year's practice I. Was able to move into a much moro imposing house, was free from debt, and was makingâ€"well. a. very com- fortable income, which has never since fallen below four figures. But. really. if it, had not been for my litâ€" tle “humbug” at the beginning. I am sure I should have had a. very am sure I should hav dificrcut tale to tell. and very business-like pace over every road in the district. In fact. I gave my coachman so little rest that I had no less than five of them IN SIX MONTHS. Of course the rapid growth of my practice was the gossip of every drawing-room and dinner-table; and I believe some marvellous stories were invented to account for it. All that I cared to know was that my practice really was growing in a. most remarkable way, and that every day the need for bogus calls Was growing less. Amid all my work, real and imag- inary. I found time to attend a few really poor and deserving people: and. as I resolutely refused to reâ€" ceive a. penny for my services, you may be sure they were united in sing- ing my praises. But the tide of fortune began to flow in earnest when one day the big man of the district, a sporting bar- onet, met with a carriage accldent, and I was summoned to the hall by it groom on horseback who had failed to find either of my rivals at. home. Fortunately. I created a favorable impression on the great man, and xvnc soon able to put him on his feet pidly All day long my carriage was eith- er standing at my door, awaiting my coming. or being driven at a. brisk and very business-like pace over every road in the district. In fact. I gave my coachman so little rest that I had no less than five of them was 5 again The sudden calls and imperious rab- tats on my door grew more frequent, although, of course. I arranged them diplomatically, and did not overdo the thingâ€"and within a. fortnight I had secured no fewer than three bona fide patients. AL this stage, although I could ill afford the risk, I purchased a broug- ham (with borrowed money). engag- ed a showy coachman. and put my boy “in buttons." Within a week, I can assure you. there Was not a. soul in the place who was not familiar with both brougham and boy. An evening or two later I had vol- unteered to give a lecture on "A Sound Mind in a. Healthy Body" to the local debating society. The houlI of the meeting came, but no lecturer with it. A quarter of an hour, half an hour, passed, and the small audience, which had shown exem- plary patience, was beginning to grow very restless and to say un- complimentary things, when the lee- turer rushed into the room, red, panting, and perspiring, and full of apologies for his inevitable unpuncbâ€" unlity, which I vaguely and modestly hinted was due to "an urgent pro- fessional summons.” A DUUTUR'S UUNFESSIUN S. I am bound to say that; a. little lxuuxbug goes a. long Way in the early days of a medical career. said a fam- ily doctor with a. large suburban practice; and although, of course, I cannot pretend to defend it, I found it lnost useful in giving me a start. a practice, but 1 was already 0. mm‘« ried man. Undetermd by this double handicap. I took a house in what. after careful inquiry. I considered to be a promising suburb, affixed a. brass plate to my door. and prepared to receive patients. For three months not a. single pm. tient cmne my Way; there were al- ready two doctors in the field, who divided between them all the prac- tice there was; and, as my exchequer was dwindling to the vanishing point I saw that it was quite time to form a new plan of campaign. The following Sunday the congrega- tion of our fashionablo church was disturbed by the appearance 0! a. small boy, who rushed panting up the aisle and spoke a. few hurried words to me. I snatched my hat. and, With a. look of great concern on my face, hurried out of the church: followed by the eyes of half the con- gregation. » The following night my neighbors were disturbed twice by a furious knocking on my door, and a few ml o utes later those who furtively ralse the blind might have seen me rush wildly out. into the street in the di- rection, presumably. of a. patient in extremis‘ If their vision had bee less restricted they would have see my pace moderate after I had turned the corner of the street, and Within five minutes I had smuggled myself quietly into the house again BY THE BACK ENTRANCE. When I began thirty years a without. the mac: Before the end of the week it bog-an to be Whispered that the "new doo- tor was a coming man"; that. Doc- tors â€"â€" and would soon find their occupation gone if I progressed at this rate, and so on. HE TELLS HOW HUMBUG GAVE HIM A START. The Many Schemes He Adopted to Build Up a Practice. soon able to L end of a. year's practice I to move into a much moro house, was free from debt, makingâ€"well. a. very com- ncomc, which has never an below four figures. But. A RECIPE my career, nearly :0 I was not only ssary money to buy m ake mortar,