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/ NM ‘ , i 3 ll PCECC CHAPTER X X IIIâ€"Cont. "But," added Mrs. Wylie with conâ€" Wiction, “be is not half good enough flor you." Brenda smiled a little wistfully and rose to preside at the teaâ€"tray, which the maid brought in at that moment. During their simple tea and the evening that followed there were other things to talk of. and it was only after dinner, when they were left alone with their work and their books, that Mrs. Wylie made refer- ence to the afternoon's proceedings. "On my way back from IIicks'," she said conversationally, "I met Sir Edward." "Ah! Indeed! . Brenda looked up from the heavy volume on her lap and waited with some interest. Mrs. Wylie paused some time before continuing. She leant to one side and took up a large workâ€"basket, in which she searched busily for something. "Yes," she murmured at length, with her face literally in the gasket; "and , Theo is in St. Peters- burgl" ’ "St. Petersburgl” repeated Brenda slowly. "In the winter. I rather envy him!” "I do not imagine," said Mrs. Wylie, still occupied with the di- shevelled contents of her work- basket, “that he is there on plea- suref' Brenda laughed lightly. "Theo," she observed in a casual way, "is not much given to pleasure in an undiluted state." "I like a man who takes life and his life’s work seriously.” "So do I,” assented Brenda indifâ€" ferently. She knew that Mrs. Wylie was studying her face with kindly keenâ€" ness, and so she smiled in a friendly way at the fire, which seemed to dance and laugh in reply. "Is it generally known that he is in St. Petersburg?" she asked with some interest. “Oh, no! Sir Edward told me in confidence. He says that it does not matter much, but that he and Theo would prefer it not being talkâ€" ed about.” "Why has he gone?" Mrs. Wylie laid aside the basket ~ar’iilhlgoked gws at her gompanion With a' curious, bafiledisniile. "I don"t know,” she answered. "I suppose,” she said presently, as she turned a page, "that it means war.” The widow shrugged her shoulders. "We must not get into the habit,” she suggested, “of taking it. for granted that every action of Theo’s means that." "He lives for war," said the wearily as she bent over her with decision. Mrs. Wylie worked on in silence. She had no desire to press the subâ€" ject, and Brenda's statement was undeniable. They now returned to their respec- tive occupations, but Ilrenda knew that at times her companion’s eyes wandered from the'work toward her own face. Mrs. Wylie was evidently thinking activelyâ€"not passively, as was her wont. The result was not long in forthcoming, "My dear," she said energetically, "I have been thinking. Let us go down to Wyl’s Hall." Brenda. pondered for a few seconds before replying. It Was the first time: that there had been any men- tion of the old Sufi‘olk'house since asked the girl. girl book Women Have Kdney Disease, And Often Make the ME esuEtlng‘, Bazkache to other Causes Dr. Chase’s Kidney-Liver Pis Many women have kidney disease and do not know it. They confuse the symptoms of kidney disease with those of ailments of a feminine na« ture. We would warn you against this danger, as a few days’ neglect of kidney disease may mean years of suffering. Pains in the small of the back or weakness and lameness of the back are the most marked symptoms of kidney diseases; Mothers are. 19,559: EeSii‘, harsh. skin, deposits in the urine. swelling of the feet and legs, levcre headaches, stiffness and soreâ€" ness of the muscles, rheumatic pains. , cold chills in back and loins, scaldâ€" l‘ng, painful urination, weariness and despondency. There is. we believe, no prepara- tion extant which affords such prompt relief for backache and the other distressing symptoms of kidney disease a: Dr. Chases Kidney-Liver Pills. That this preparation is a lbm‘ough cure is evidenced by the Or, The End of It All mmmmm ' «WMWWWQO :oaks and War its master's sudden death. Mrs.‘ Wylie had never crossed the thresh-f old of this, the birthplace of many \Vylies (all good sailors and true men), since she returned in the Herâ€" mione to Wyvenwich a childless \Vl(l()W. All this Brenda knew, and‘ consr‘quvntly attached some importâ€" ance to the suggestion. During the last six months they had lived on in an unsettled way from day to day. Both had, perhaps, been a little restless. There was a want of home- lincss about the chambers in Suffolk Mansions: not so much, perhaps, in the. rooms themselves as in the stairs, the common door with its civil porter. and the general air of joint proprietorship. Brenda (lid not lose sight of the possibility that. Mrs. Wylie might be longing for the familiar faces and pleasant voices of the humble dwel- lers in Wyvenwich; but the proposal to return to Wyl's Hall was appar- ently unprcnieditated, and therefore the girl doubted its sincerity. "Not on my account?" she in- quired doubtfully, without looking up. "No. On my own. I am longing for the old place, Brenda. This fog and gloom makes one think of the brightness of Wyvenwich and the sea, which is always lovely in a frost. Let us go at oncoâ€"toâ€"morrow or the next day. The winter is by no means over yet. and London is detestable. Even if we are snowed up at Wyl's Hall, it does not mat~ ter much, for it is always bright and cheery despite its loneliness. We. will take plenty of books and work.” The girl made no further (femur. and presently caught the infection of her companions cheerful enthusiasm. : Mrs. Wylie possessed the pleasant art of making life a comfortable thing under most circumstances, and for such as her a sudden move has no fears. While Trist adapted himâ€" self to circumstances, Mrs. Wylie! seemed to adapt circumstances to, herself, which is, perhaps, the more difficult art. The good lady seemed somewhat relieved when the move was finally decided upon and arranged; neverthe-' less, there was a look of anxiety on her round' face when she sought her room that night. “I wish,” she observed to her own reflection in the lookingâ€"glass, “that I knew what to do. I must be a terrible coward. It would be so very easy to ask Brenda outright though . I know what the answer would be poor child! And I might just as well have spokâ€" en out boldly when I went to see him that night. It. is a difficult predicament, becauseâ€"they are both so strong!” CHAPTER XXIV. It does not fall to the lot of many travelers by sea to plough through the yellow broken waters of the (le.-â€" man Ocean where the coast of Sufâ€" folk lies low and fertile. Thus it happens that these shores are little visited, and never overrun by the cheap tourist. Upon this bleak, shingly shore there are little villages and small ancient’towns quite un-i known to the August holidayâ€"seeker. who prefers crowding down to the‘ south coast. ' Suif‘iolk by the. sea is not all marsh There are high Standâ€"dunes, where} grow to a wonderful stature; and a mighty toughness; where cleanâ€" limbed beeches rustle melodiously in the bree7e that is never still on the stake of Attributing the scores and hundreds of statements which are received at these offices from reputable people in all walks of ; hottest autumn day; and where pixies grow straight and tail despite. the salty breath of ocean. The little town of \\'yven\vich lies upon the northern sloie of such a bank as this. Before it spreads a bleak sandy plain seven miles across, while behind all is fertility and leafy luxuriance. To the south, over the hill, lies a vast purple moor, which undulates inland until a mixud forest of pine. oak and beech shirts out further investiga- ‘tion. The heathland slopes gently down to a vast. marsh, in the midst surrounded by trees on all sides ex- lccpt the front, is Wyl's Hall. The parish register tells of Wylies since the thirteenth century. Noth- ing of great importance, perhaps, "but the name is there. and the p0s- sessors of it appear to have done their duty faithfully in the state of life in which they were placed. Anid now the old race is extinct. A lonely widow, childless, almost kin- less, lives in Wyl's Hall; and the last possessor of the name, kindly, honest Admiral Wylie, lies in his great solitiuIde among the nameless northern (lead, far away in the deâ€" sorted Norse churchyard upon the mountainâ€"side. Brenda (lilholmc found a place for herself. Even to her it was clear that Mrs. Wylie baud need of someone to hear her company in her widowâ€" hood, and so she stayed unquestion- ingly at Wyl's Hall now that Mrs. Wylie had returned there. Here she lived just like an ordin- ary little country maiden. She knew all about the tides, and sym- pathiz'ed with the inars‘hnian. when the northâ€"east winds blew against the ebbing tide, and laughed at his five creaking windmills. She. learnt the names of all the six stalwart coastguardsmen stationed at Mlzzen Heath, and was deeply werscd in the smuggling lore of this famous smugâ€" gling country. These coastguards- men, with their civil tongues and ready ways, occupied an important position in the domestic economy of Wyl's Hall. Their little turf refuge was at the foot of the kitchen garâ€" den, and there' a pleasant-spoken man was to be found by night and (lay. Women are weak where sailors are concerned. Mrs. Wylie set an ex- ample with the London newspaper, and tle portly cook followed with surreptitious cold pudding when her dishes were washed on a warm evenâ€" ing. There was always something requiring a man’s hand at, Wyl’s Hall, and the coastguards had a certain leisure, during which the most somnolent could scarcely sleep’. No man slumbers quite peacefully about five o'clock in,the evening. however actin'ely employed he may have. been during the prcvius night; and, indeed, at all times of day or night them was usually one of the six Mizzzen Heath y‘ai‘dians awake and off duty. Into this little world, shut off by shallow seas in‘front, closed in by vast moors behind, Bren-(la had quietly made her way like some new and gracious flowor wlten the flowers of earth were still frozen in. In it She had found a place. among its denizens a Welcome. And this was life. This the end and aim of all existence. To do a little good, to leave a pleasant memory in a few hearts. Mrs. Wylie was almost 1101‘ old self again. At times the former cheer- fulr.e:s of demeanor would lighten up the old house. There was the same capable sense of comfort in her_ presence, the same readiness to make the best of unpropitious enâ€" vironments. Her own sorrow, nevâ€" er publicly aired, was hidden deeply beneath a certain oheerfulness which can only be described as Worldly. band in touching terms, it was not because his memory was devoid of meaning to her; it was because she cordially disliked any approach to cant, because the memory was too sacred a thing to be discussed. Of course, society at large and her neiglibois in particular had a say in the matterâ€"the usual kind of say-â€" flavored with tea and thin bread, garnished with spite and kindly malâ€" ice. llut Mrs. Wylie had always been ras‘hly indifferent to criticism. All through February and March the two ladies had lived happily at Wyl’s Hall, without longing for the busier life of London. At times Mrs. Wylie heard abopt Theodore»â€" usrually a vague rumor that 110 was in London, or Paris. or Ilcrlin. and 01110 directly from him a short note, Sent with some quaint old jewelry he had brought back from the Slav- onski Bazar in Mowow for (mid Brenda. llife, Mrs. W. Wilkins, Henry street,: 'Belleville, ,0nt., states:â€" “I suh‘eredl a great deal with pains in the small‘ of the back caused from kidney; trouble. Whenever I stooped I could scarcely rise again, the pains were so great. The disease became so 53331;; that it affected my general healthband I was becolniug very 1much run down. Since using Dr. Chase's Kidney-Liver Pills I can say that my trouble has entirely disapâ€", Epeared. I can speak in the highest terms of this medicine from the way it acted in my case." Dr. Chase's Kidney-Liver Pil‘s, one pill 51 Close. 25 cents a box, at all ldealers, or Edmanson, Bates & Co.. Toronto. To protect you against 1imitations the portrait and signature ,of Dr. A. W. Chase are on every ibox. i March was drawing to a close. and ‘tihe low Suffolk lands Were already green by reason of their dampness, when a second communication arriv- NC“! at, Wyl’s Hall from the busy cor- resi ioi'iident. "ilay I," he asked tersely. “come ,down for a day or two to see you '2 Please answer by telegraph." 1318 note came aL breakfast-time} anil a messenger was at once disâ€" :patchcd to \‘Cyvcnwich with a teleâ€" grain. "It is quite an ago since we have seen ’I‘lico," observed Mrs. Wylie pleasantly, as she wrote out the message. Brenda. who was occupied with , her letters. acquiesced carelessly; but in a few moments she laid the comâ€" munications aside and took up the ne\vs',al er. With singular nonclial- . . ,. , l__ . .. -i" ‘once she opened it and \vent toward .‘n- <11“! BH‘HI“ ‘ UZC Window. There was nothing of which stands a solitary red-brick, icottage. the home of the marshâ€"man. The nearest house to it is the Mix- zen Heath Coastguard Station, set back from the greedy sea upon the . height of the moor; and beyond that , If she never ieferred to her late h-US-g lierseif ‘Ueiy peculiar in this action, and yet the girl's movements were in some slight and inexplicable way em- ‘rbnrrussed. It seemed almost as if :slie did not wish Mrs. Wylie to noâ€" 1tice that she was looking at the lnewspaper. During bleak-fast there ,was a furti\c anxiety visible in the manner and voice of these deceitful women. Each atteinpod to rejoice ‘openly over the adxent of Theodore "l‘rist. and at the same time cnrei‘ul- 'ly avoided seeking a reason for his lunusual mode of procedure; for Trist was a. man who never invited himself. While the table was being cleared Brenda. left the room on some small errand, and Mrs. Wylie literally pounced upon the newspaper the moment. the door was closed. With .practiced hand and eye she sought. the column contamlng foreign Min- 'telligence. Eagerly she scanned ‘the closely-printed lines. but disapâ€" pointment was the evident result. "Not a word,“ she reflettedâ€"“not a word. But. perhaps that is all the worse. ’I‘hco is coming down here for Some. specific reason, I am .‘iure. Either to say goodâ€"bye orâ€" or for something else. Warâ€"warâ€" war! I feel it in the air !“ Ankl the good lady stood there in the bowâ€"window gazing through the rime-shade’d panes away across the moor, over the green and mournful sea. CHAPTER XXV. It happened that there were some warm balmy d'ays toward the end of March, and on one of these Theoâ€" dore Trist arrived at \Vyvenwich. Mrs. Wylie amd Brenda Were on the little platform to meet him, and the elder lady, in her practical way, noted the lightness of his baggage and drew her own conclusions. They walked to Wyl's Hall through the High Street of the lit- tle town, down toward the sea, up a steep path on the cliff, and finally anrose the moor. All green things were budding, ten’der shoots and bold weeds alike. Overhead the larks Were singing in gladsonie chor- us. Side by side the three friends walked, and talked ofâ€"t'he weather. I mention it because none of the three took mudh interest in the, mat- ter, as a rule, nor ever talked of it, "Spring is upon us again,” Wylie had said during the pause. "Yes," answered Trist: "this wea- ther always makes me restless." “More so than usual ? inquired Brenda innocently. Trist looked at her side-gays. “Yes,” he murmured, “more so than usual. I suppose a new fund of energy creeps into my somnolent being.” “Do you really believe," inquired Mrs. Wylie, with exceeding great inâ€" terest. "that the weather has so much effect upon one as that ?" “I am sure of it. There is no denying the fact that in the spring- time, when all things are beginning to grow, men grow energetic. If they be working, they work harder; fighting, fight harder; playing, play Mrs. first harder. The majority of events happen in the first six months of the year." “So the unexpected may be ex- pCCted before July," suggested Mrs. Wylie quietly. “That may times." Thus they talked on in vague com- mouiplaces, not entirely devoid of a Second meaning perhaps, Biren'da scarcely joined in the conversation. It was enough for her to listen to these two strangely assorted friends. who seemed to her analytical mind to be lather different in each other's company than they were before the rest of the World. “’hcn they had reached the house the girl wont upstairs to remove her .liat and jadket, leaving her two companions together in the library. This was g good-sized room, with a broad oldâ€"fashioned bowâ€"window, of which even the panes of glass were curved, while all round it there was a low wirifdowâ€"seat softly cush- ioned. In the broad fireplace some. logs of driftwood burnt slowly and silently, With a steady glow of heat, las only driftwood burns. Trist \vent straight to the window and stood in the center of it, with his strong lean hands hanging idly. His eyes were soft and meek and dreamy as ever, while his limbs :SL‘L‘lllcd full of strength and f'llt‘l'lz‘y. [The old incongruin was still upâ€" parent. Mrs. Wylie [OllUlefl him. and seat- ‘cd herself by the window at the end ,of the bow, be expected at all ‘file was visible to llt'l'. Thus they rl‘OllltllllCtl for some seconds: then he iturned with grave deliberation and ‘met her steady gave. “Wellâ€" she inquired. ‘ “Wellâ€"1‘" he reiterated. i “Ilow long are you going to ,stay ‘3" “Till Monday." "This being Fridayâ€"3' He signified assent and turned away again. “Why have you come “.7” asked er5. Wylie abruptly, after a short ipause. ‘ This time be avoided meeting her :exes by the simple expedient of V‘staring out of the window. V "1 do not knowâ€"" he replied. with some hesitation. l “Yesâ€"you do!" ‘. He wheeled round upon his heels [and looked down at her With an aggravatineg gentle smile. "‘i'cs. Theo, you do! Why have you come '2” ".‘Iay 1 not he allowed," he asked lightly. “a certain desire to see , "\n: 1...:3‘, "LIL 1.1,- s'.c icyife'; so that the man's proâ€", BABY’S VITALITY. The Vitality of infants and younq‘ children is at its lowest point. durg aiug the hot weather. More childre die in summer than at any otho season. This is because the littl ,ones suffer more from bowel troubq' \ies, are nervous. weak, sleepless and irritable. Prompt, fiction often save: a valuable little life, and troubles 01 1this kind can be promptly met an lcured by giving the little one{ Baby's Own Tablets, which should b$ kept in every home ready for omer gencies. These Tablets speedily re‘; lleve. and promptly cure all stomac bowel and other hot weather allq' linents, and give sound refreshinfl sleep. Mrs. P. Ferguson, 105 Mansi field street, Montreal, says: “My baby was attacked with dysentrj and was hot and feverish. I gaw‘ 'him Baby’s Own Tablets and they, :prom-ptly cured him. Before thisI the had been rather delicate, but. since using the Tablets he has been! better and stronger in every way." l f These Tablets can be given with an absolute certainty that they wil‘ do good to all children from a new born upwards. They contain no opk ate or poisonous "soothing" stum' Sold by medicine dealers or mailed at 25 cents a box by writing direct ,to Dr. Williams Medicine 00., Brockp’ ,ville. 0m. ’ 7 | is not the reason of your coming." She settled herself more comfort- ably on the window-seat, laid aside her muff, loosened her jacket, and conrposed herself to a long wait, with a cheery determination emin- ently characteristic, “In the springâ€"” he began, in a. patient voice which seemed to con- tain the promise of a long story. The young man’s fancyâ€"" contin- utx'd Mrs. Wylie. "Lightly turns," he said gravely, taking up the thread, "to thoughts of war.” At the last word be lowered his voice suddenly, and turned upon her. as if to see its effect. She merely raised her eyebrows and looked at.‘ him sfpcc'ulatively. At last she gave a little nod of the head, signifying comprehension. “Then you goodâ€"bye ?" Here her voice failed a little. With care she cduld have prevented such an occurrence; but perhaps she spoke a trifle recklesslyâ€"1:erhaps she ’did not care to conceal the feeling which was betrayed by that passing bicak‘ in her mellow sympathetic tones. When it was too late, she closed her lips with a small snap of determin- ation, and looked up at him smiling defiantly. "Not necessarily," he replied cool- ly. “It may mean that; or, at least. it may mean that I am suin- moned away at such short notice that there will be no opportunity of coming again. Personally, I should prefer it to be so. The pastime of saying good-bye may possess a cer- tain sentimental value, but it is a. Weakness which is best avoidc'r.” Mrs. Wylie continued to watch the young man's face with speculative criticism. [t is just possible that she suspected him of talking nous Sense, as it were, against time or against thisclf. "Is your information of a general description, or have you certain a'd~ \ice that war is imminent ‘9" Trist smiled almost ap'ologetieally as he replied, with caution. “I have reason to belime there will be a. big war before summer. " “Turkey and Russia, “Yes.” "And you go with Turkey, I snip- pose ?“ - “Yes.” I “The losing si'dc again '2" inquired Mrs. Wylie diplomatically. "Probably; but not without a 1good fight for it. It will not be such an easy matter as the Russians imagine." "Where will you ‘persistent lady. pic onâ€"" have come to sayâ€"- that the of course ?” lie '2" asked the “At Constantino- “1\t the front !" said Tristt. "Do you know,” said Mrs. Wylie. ‘in a haili'â€"~il:;iinedfaced way, "I be fliem- lain beginning to lose my neiwe. Is it a fortaste of approach- iing old age 2’ I really believe I out going to be anxious about you." lier scuii~bantering tone justified "l‘i'ist‘s easy laugh. He took if for q‘rulilt'zl that Mrs. Wylie was not I.<.rir.-.'i.l\iiig seriously. "You must not allow yoursolf,” bi it"x'ium’lfllliltt‘d. “to get into bad liabv ‘its of that sort." "Still," argued the widow in the [same tone, "I do not sec why.you should be free from the restraining ‘antl salutary feeling that there is ‘Soint-uie Waiting for you at home." I It was hard to tell whether Mr::. iWylic meant more than the more lwoi‘ds conveyed or no. Trist seein- ged to hesitate before replying. , i “I am never free from thatâ€"but. it :is not necessary; my foolhardy days are crvcr.” "Anal this is to be the last time?" ,Said Mrs. Wylie, consoling herself ' “Yes. The last time !” i (To be Continued.) "f Iolantheâ€""So Jack is engaged, is ihe‘? And is Lucy the brideâ€"to-be?" Ireneâ€"“No: she’s the tried-toâ€"be. " I l a : and absolute cure for each ‘ ‘ and every form of itching, l bleedingand protrudin piles, l the manufacturers have guaranteed lt. co ten- 1 timonlals in the daily press and ask yourncizb' l born whatthoy th 1'. ofit. ‘10u can use It and i zet your money back if not cured. 600 a box. 5.: I all design or Enuxxsawfinns 5: Co.,Toruuta 432'. Gi'iase‘s Ointment To prove to you thab Dr. Chase‘s Ointment la a certain