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He went back to the Maynards, chiefly~ that he might have the op- portunity of looking at a. chalk drawing, which was a fair, though he thought, very unflattering and in- adequate likeness of their niece, Ada. He was clever in leading up to rt.L terences to "our niece, Ada," though he never mentioned her. This Mrs. Maynard thought singular, since anecdotes of every other memâ€" ber of the family, including the mon- goose and the bear, were frequent. Perhaps it was a sense of justice that led Mrs. Maynard to supply this deficienCy by many allusions to the neglected niece and continued dwelling upon her virtues and at- tractions, to which Philip listened with a polite forbearance that did him credit, and afforded some diver- sion to the kindâ€"hearted lady. Having written to Miss Maynard (to tell her of his fruitless search for Jessie, and unexpected finding of a father in the course of.that search, he considered that he ought now to inform her of the marriage, a duty that was all the more easy, if not more pleasant, because of the imâ€" passable barrier that fatal father of his had placed between them. The World seemed less empty when his conscience had warned him of this duty, and he had resolved to per- form it, and he by no means slightâ€" ed the dishes upon the Maynard's luncheon table, or failed to laugh at. "And the unkindnoss, Jessie?” he asked in a voice inaudible to others. "I remember none,” she replied. smiling. "dear Miss Ingleby was al- ways good to me. And if she ever showed displeasure, it was just, very Just and right." 011 hearing which afterward Miss Ingleby burst into tears, to her brother's infinite sur- prise and satisfaction . Philip stood on the church steps and WutChed the carriage which bore Claude and Jessie roll away; he was now alone in the world, and yet he was nearer to Jessie now than he had ever been before. 'A week after the finding of Jessie there was a. marriage in a. London church. in the presence of Sir Arthur Medway, and Jim, and Canon and Mrs. Medway. No eloquence could prevail upon Cousin Jane to appear at her ward’s marriage. The proâ€" ceedings, she averred, were not in accordance with Wood ways; he!‘ needful consent, with that of Mr. Cheeseman, was most reluctantly given. 'A tall, thickly-veiled lady saw the wedding from a gallery. 'As the ceremony went on the veil was incautiously raised, and the bride groom, looking up at a very solemn moment, was startled to see in the passion-pale face the wellâ€"known tea- hires of the Marchioness of Bardex- Lter. When the names were being signed in 'the Vestry, Jessie turned to Mr. Ingleby, drew his face down, and kissed him. “Goodâ€"by," she said, “you have been a good friend. I shall never forget your kindness, or Miss Ingleby's; please give my love to her." She did not reply. Her golden head drooped upon his shoulder, where she rested like a tired child, her eyes veiled by their downward drooping fringes, her features calm with an ineffable repose. The bright; momentary flush had faded from her cheek. leaving it marble pale, and [there were violet shadows about her beautiful mouth that told a. terrible tale and caused an icy fear to creep about his heart. 'pale child who clung so tenrfully to him at the station when they part- ed, bu'. a tall figure, slender almost to emaciation, yet of a perfect grace, The shining masses of her sunny hair were gathered back in a ribbon. she was clad in white float.- ing draperies, there was a light in her deep violet eyes and a radiance in her flushed though thin face, to- gether with a dignity in her bearing quite new to him. Yet Jessie was quivering- inwardly, halfâ€"awed by the brown-faced, darkâ€"eyed man who seemed so much older, graver, and more imposing than the halfâ€"way- ward lad who cried so bitterly at their parents’ death. The memory of the storm he had passed through seemed graven on his face. She reâ€" membred, when she looked at him, that he had won the Victoria Cross. “Jessie, Jessie! my poor kitten!" Philip cried, taking the thin face in his hands, after they had been to- gether for a, little while. "why didn't you tell me all from the first? This hould never have happened. If I had but known.” “You were so far away," sighed Jessie. after some time, “and I could not make you understand." Each had much to forgive and be forgiven, they called to mind in that glance, but by the time the door had closed behind her, Jessie was once more the little sister he had loved and protected all his life, and Philip the strong kind brother she had looked up to and loved, and both felt the strength of the tie bL~ tween them as one that neither time nor circumstances could ever break. It was not long before the door opened. and there entered, not the little Jessie of his remembrance, the A DYING PRQMISE CHAPTER XLV. momma Wmmmofimm OR, THE mssmo WILL 4Q “Marwell Court! Marwell!’ tered Algernon; “that's mine, mine!" against: the chimneyâ€"piece, beneath which a fire was burning, hot as the weather was, in deference to the old man's whim. “Quite the same. your grandfath- er’s intention in this will was to re- store you to your original position of heir of Marwell Court, nothing more." Presently Sir 'A'rthur arrived and stood beside his miserable brother, who did not recognize him, and only acknowledged his entrance by cover- ing the fruit before him with his hand. Sir 'Arthur, a. typical Eng- lish gentleman, carrying his sixty years with easy grace, handsome, dignified, serene, though bearing the record of heavy sorrows on his face. was a striking contrast to the de« graded husk of humanity beside him, whose identity had once been con- fused with his. The last action of the old man revolted Philip and his uncle to such an extent that Beach turned simultaneously from the sorry sight, and Philip rose and leant Sir Arthur smiled pathetically. "The loss of Marwell Court and the lands pertaining to it in some slight measuus afiects myself and my child- ren," he replied. ten," he replied. "I meant," Philip amended, "are the other provisions, legacies, annui~ ties, and so on. the same as in the earlier will which has been acted upon?" It was a strange spectacle, he thought, a convicted criminal, one of society‘s failures. Yet what could society do more for any man than it had done for this one, a member of the criminal classes, but a favorite of fortune, bred in a re- fined home. Trained in the best schools of the country, breathing an atmosphere of culture from the cradle-â€"whence came the moral taint? "What. about this will?” Philip asked abruptly, “is anyone but my- self afiected by it?" the Canon's gentle jokes. He was thinking of some people sitting at, tiffin under a punkah in a large Inâ€" dian room, with windows and doors shut to keep out the blazing heat. and wondering if one of them was growing pale with the hot weather, and if she could muster appetite‘for anything more solid than a waterâ€" melon. l’l‘hat eligible civilian was not in the habit of dropping in for tiflin, he remembered with a, certain pleasure. This meeting was to take place at his father's chambers, whither he re- paired quickly on leaving the May- nards'. On his way he drew a docâ€" ument from his pocket and read it carefully in the cal), taking notes as he read. It was no less an instru- ment than the last, the very last. will and testament of Sir Claude Medway. Baronet, properly drawn up in legal phraseology and hand- writing and duly signed, sealed, and witnessed by competent Witnesses. The existence of the will had of course been known, but as it was not forthcoming after Sir Claude’s death it was supposed to have been repented of and destroyed by him. But during the legal arrangements consequent on Claude’s marriage, a great rummaging of documents had taken place, and the missing will had turned up in the secret spring draw- er of a desk that Sir 'Arthur ghad used almost daily at Marwell, On leaving the church after the mar- Philip sat down and looked on at this unlover spectacle with a cur- ious mixture of pity and disgust. How could this creature be his father? He felt no kinship with him; might there, after all, be some mistake? He could not trace the family likeness in the face before him, wherein the animal had efi'aced the spiritual, whence all fine lines and noble curves had disappeared. What had this face been in youth, he wondered, contrasting it with that of Sir Arthur. The twin brothâ€" ers were scarcely sixty, younger than Matthew Meade at his death, but what a difference? Matthew's mind and Martha’s, too, had wandered at the last, but how nobler! Their last words were never to be forgot- ten, though Jessie had now convincâ€" ed him that the words of betrothal in her father’s last joining of their hands ought never to have been tak- en literally. Never could he be grateful enough for Matthew and Martha Meade in place of this ter- rible parent. Philip found his father very low and fretful; nothing pleased him, the toy soldiers were thrown at people's heads, the draught-board was flung aside with piteous howls, only the fruit he brought was tolerated. This was snatched and snarled over. "Oh. but I must go now, Mrs. Maynard," he said, more than an hour later, for about the fifth time, and using the name for pure love of its sound and associations, “I prom- ised to meet Sir Arthur Mcdway on business at, four." riag‘e iSir Arthur handed it. to Philip to read and return to him in the afternoon. Have you shown this will to your mut- 5333 lawyers?" Philip continued, not heading the old man's babble. “NOE yet. I shall put it into their hands tauâ€"night. Claude has seen it, no one else, not even her ludyship!" “And the executors are all dead, and the witnesses too?" continued, Philip, idly stirring the fire and making a great 'cuvern in the heart. of it. "Yes, but there would be no diffi- culty in proving it. The lawyer who made it. is still living. Give it. into the hands of your own lawyers if you like.” Even al‘ter Solierino Claude had not considered it safe to travel, but the peace of Zurich brought such a wake again later and purge Italy of foes and false friends, and set her up among the nations, that they went to the Riviera, meaning to go on to Africa in case of disquiet in Italy. So Jessie at last looked upon the Mediterranean, that beau- tiful sea whose waters are an invert- ed and intensified heaven, whose is- lands are paradise-5, whose shores are fragrant with the most precious as- sociations of history and literature. Here she might sit for long hours in the sunshine, breathing balmiest air. sweet with flower scents, listen- ing to the music of Claude-’5 voice as he read or talked, or telling him the things she saw as she looked upâ€" on tho tideless sea, gay with ruddy- brown lateen sails and crossed by great ships from many lands. She saw Phoenician traders and Roman galleys float upon the sunny sea westward, crusaders sailing east- ward, rich merchant ships from Gen- oa and Venice, pirates and slavers Prom Africa, the bark wrecked upon the island of Melita, a. strange and motley procession. She saw the heroes sailing to Troy, and Ulysses returning after many years to his island home, unhurt by sirens, sea monsters, sea perils, or barbarous outlandish peoples. Then she saw him finally sailing westward in the lull in the tempest that was to track of the sinking sun, away, away to the mystic. unknown, happy Islands. This vision had the great- est charm for her. Perhaps she lov- "Who is the legal owner of a. will?’ he asked, enlarging his cavity in the fire. They were in Suffolk, in a Very quiet outâ€"ofâ€"theâ€"way spot on the coast. Perfect quiet had been prc~ scribed for Jessie, whose health was severely shaken by the long months of privatiou and mental sufiering, and perfect quiet soon brought the color back to her face, and happiness filled her eyes with a soft radiance. Then they went up the Rhine to Switzerland, and here it became evi- dent that she must rest to recover her lost strength. But she was not ill. Claude maintained, with patheâ€" tic insistence, she did not even suffer pain; all the doctors pronounced her free from organic diseases, and suf- fering only from nervous exhaustion. Then she took a chill and was laid up with some lung trouble, from which she soon rallied. Still a warm climate was advised for the winter, and that gave a delightful opportunity of entering the Holy Land of art, the Italy for which Jessie longed, and which she could not enter till the autumn because of the storm of war then sweeping over it. "Upon my soul, Philip, that is a question that never occurred to me before.” he replied. "I am no law- yex‘ and cannot tell." He moved as he spoke and stood between Philip and his father, so that when Philip turned from the fire into which he had been gazing, he did not see the contortions of Algernon Medway’s face in his vain attempts to speak. "Posscssion is nine points of the law," he said, quickly drawing the paper from his pocket and plunging it into the burning cavity, where it was consumed almost immediately, being held down by the poker. "The will is therefore mine, Marwell Cour yours in all justice. I was not bred to own property of this kind, and want it no more than I am fit for it. So that’s done, we are as we were . ' ‘- “Burnt the will,” he replied, smil- ing at Sir Arthur’s vain attempts to rescue the fluttering ash into which the paper had burnt. "Thank God!" gasped Sir Arthur; but he was moved too, seeing the old likeness to himself steal over the features as the stained soul’s imâ€" press felt them and they settled in- to the calm majesty of death. "How? What? Upon my honor!” exclaimed Sir Arthur. “Do you know What you have done?" "I am not superstitious,” Claude said to Jessie, when he related the story afterward, "but I Wish it had not happqlled on our wedding day!” ed those old Greek heroes so much because Claude had introduced them to her through well-chosen transla- tions which he read aloud. In the meantime the beautiful prosâ€" pect with its accurate level line sharply dividing sky from sea, with its purpleâ€"shadowed mountain spur, its hoary olive and gleaming orange- gardens glowed in the warm light before them, dainty rose scents and heavier tuberose and narcissus perâ€" fumes stole in on the sunny air, bees hummed about the flowers stole in on the sunny air, the voices and laughter of the people passing in the road sounded pleasantly, the low murmur of the sea Went on in hush- ed moments when silence fell upon the three, and the sun went down in great glory, in a splendor that filled them with awe. The dusk, light- ed by the hearth-light, was pleasant too. Claude drew closer to Jessie, who gradually became silent. A full moon rose and threw its glory upon the peaceful waves, the two men talked on in low Voices on large, lofty subjects, Jessie's head slip- Then Claude finished his cigar and joined them, and they laughed over Sarah's refusal of the income that had been offered her and Abraham. She couldn’t do without a dairy, and was sure Abraham Would go silly with nothing to do but look forward to dinner time, she averred; besides she knew that no one else could do properly for Mrs. Plummer, or put up with her tongue. Then they talked of the Italian crisis, of Garibaldi‘s attempts to stir up the cities, and of the great hopes that Were throbbing at the nation's great heart. That led on to the war just ended, thence to the Mutiny and the Crimea, and war in the ab- stract. and finally to the hope of ultimate peace as the consummation to which all these tragic wars might be tending- “Some day you might paint the lust voyage of: Ulysses,“ he said to her, but Jessie made no reply; she seemed too languid to paint, and only once roused herself to sketch the view from the windows, blue sea with a. mountainous promontory run- ning into it in the distance, a. sol- emn olive-grove in the middle dis- tance, a. lofty stone pine in the tancc, a. lofty stone pine in the foreground, its broad flat crest traced upon the dark blue ecu. There was much speculation in the neighborhood of Marwell us to whether Mrs. Medway would venture to appear at Marwell Court; if peo- ple would call upon her; how the awkwardness of? the Redwoods con- nection would be got over, whether she would have the audacity to he presented next spring, 01‘ rather, would Captain Medway be foolish enough to risk a refusal? For how could a. runaway like Jessie be tol- erated at an immaculate court? Thus the local mind was distl‘ated by pleasing doubt. The afternoon of his arrival was a. very happy one. The sky was clear, the warm sunshine brought out the rich tints of the mountain wall which sheltered them from the win- ’ter winds, and Jessie, who was sitâ€" ting in a sunny nook of the garden caught sight of him in the distance and came smiling down the vine- trellised Walk to meet and welcome him. She m0ved with such grace, held herself so well, her color was so vivid, and her eyes so full of light, that Philip could not think of her as an invalid, and bantered her as a malingerer. She laughed like a. child as she led him to her sunny nook. where the three sat and chat- ted till the early Winter sunset was imminent, and they went in to a welcome wood fire. . There they spoki of death incidentally, and Philip said how intensely he hated it and how_much he longed to live and act. But Jessie thought it would be pleasant to "cease upon the mid- night with no pain." "Life was so very tiring," she added. They sat by the sufmy open win- dow in the salon and talked again, Jessie in an easy chair, languid but cheerful. Claude walked up and down in the flower-garden outside to have a cigar, and looked in upon them from time to time, and smilâ€" ed to hear them talking of her father and mother, and recalling longâ€"forgotten incidents of their childhood. But though Jessie had not been to Marwell, Lady Gertrude, with pious resignation to the inevitable, had visited her daughterâ€"in-law, in whose face she had read something which in some measure consoled her for the irreparable disaster of the marriage, and the two ladies corresponded, and there was further some- question of sending Ethel out, to be near them for the winter. But early in December, Jessie be- came very anxious for Philip to join them, and he accordingly got a month’s leave and came. “Ch, JeEsie!” Claude cried with sudden sharpness; “how cruel! How could you leave me?” She burst into tears. she replied, "I cannot. it so hard.”- "Jessie is a little morbid, Philip," her husband said, apologetically; “she has had a. tiring day, else she would not talk like this. It is only hysteria," he added, with a quiver in. his voice which went to Philip's heart. “I am so glad you came, Phil,” Jessie said, With a. sigh of intense happiness, "I could never fully onâ€" joy anything without you." Next morning Jessie did not leave her room; she had had a bad night and was tired. It was nothing un- usual. Claude added, cheerfully. Phil- ip was very much disturbed by_ the intelligence, and set out happily for a. long mountain walk, returning early in the afternoon to find her up and ready to talk to him. “I cannot," That makes here, sir; you wouldn't. injur brie in the ‘ simply ruinm Salesmanâ€"“B is not the m and the Ciciii: where Abraham where Jonah 1 where Nebucl' image of gold, Haroun-al-Ras: on th'e Persian ped from the easy chair to Claude'a shoulder: Philip saw it. in the white moonlight. “She is asleep," he saidl and stole softly away, noiselessly re- plenishing the sinking fire as he went. He had just closed the door when a. sharp: quick cry from within call< ed him back, to see Claude bending over Jessie's drooping head and pale sweet face, with blank despair writ.- tcn on his own. In Korea, the line from Chcmulpo to Seoul is connected with' lines un- der construction both southward and northward, so that within a few Weeks the Japanese can transport men and munitions of War by rail from Fusnn all the way to Wiju. As the former is but ten Hours by sea from Japan, and as the latter is to be a, junction with the Siberian Railâ€" way, a land journey in a sleeping car will soon be practicable from London and Paris to the capitals of China and Korea, and, saw.- for the ferry across the Korean strait, to any part of the Mikado’s empire. We can already ride on a train along; the banks of the Burmese Ira- wadi to Isliamo and Mandalay. The locomotive runs noisily from Jafi‘n. to expression. Philip stood by him in the white moonlight, half dazed, incredible. But there was no mistaking the help- less droop of the lightly set head. or the unutterable peace of the beau~ til‘ul face. The blue eyes would no more look tenderly in theirs, 01' the Sweet lips smile upon them again. One might, have thought the clear moon was shining on a group 01 sculpture, the two men gazed so silently and immovably upon the fig- ure that rested in such unbreaking Has Had Much Influence Among Her Countrymen. Although the Empress of Japan has no royal blood in her veins, she belongs to one of the noblest and oldest families in Japan, and gum trace back her ancestry more than a thousand years. Her name, Har- uko, means "springtime." Although a thousand years. Her name, Har- uko, means "springtime." Although she was brought up and educated in the oldâ€"fashioned way, and her family are among the most conser- vative of conservatives, she is very progressive, and has been one of the strongest influences in introducing modern ideas and customs at the court of Japan. She has Worn for- eign garments for more than eight- ,een years, and now never wears uny- tliing else, and takes an active in- terest in benevolent anld edupation~ a1 movements. She frequently ap- pears at ceremonial entertainments, corner stone laying and inaugura- tions of other public enterprises and, although of diminutive stature. and very plain features, she con- ducts herself wiUh the greatest dig- nity and , grace. An interesting story is told of the first foreign garments that Were made for her when she discarded the kimono of her race in 1886. A French dress- mal-zer from Yokohama was sum- moned to the palace, but, as the etiquette of the court forbade her to touch the sacred person of the em- press, the wife of Count Ito. then. prime minister, who was about the same size and figure. served as a. model for measuring and fitting her majesty's wardrobe. The empress is supposed to speak English and French but never does. to strangers at least. When ad- dressed in English by ladies who are admitted to an audience she smiles and hoWs, but never ven- tures a reply. locomotive runs Jerusalem, and mascus, th'e olde A projevted line to the Mohamlm Unique is the‘ which is to run Asia Minor, trm‘ ian plateaq, th‘ She still retains an active inter- est in the School for PCOI‘OSSOS, which she founded fifteen years ago, and attended tlie Commence‘ ment exercises this summer as usu< 8.1. There has been a. tremendous advance in the condition of Women in Japan of late years, for which the empress is largely responsible. tragiL 4,237 miles of well managed rail- roads, while India is gridironed by 25,373 miles of steel rails, which carry 195,000,000 passengers annu- ally. Railroads are paralleling the Siamese Menam as well as the Nile and the Congo, and one can ride on them from Bangkok north to Korat and Westward to Petchaburee. Japan, which, fifty years ago, ’did not own even a jinrikisha, now has Something of the Lines Being Built and Extended. Mrs. Sn} 'Shc EMPRESS OF THE JAPS. RAILWAYS IN FAR EAST. rld is gone." he said, with the solemnin of a grief beyond hul‘ an noisily from from Beirut *st City In th‘ will run fro :dan Mecca. tbr All 1111‘ to Haran Id Niucvah Kathman- Mountains Railway. heart of th Da l‘ld in