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W++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ l Face to Face 1 l ¢¢+¢++++++:}+++++++++ Md ocean OR. GERVASE RicKMAN’s AMBITION. V.‘ â€".â€"â€" ‘ _ ++++t++++++++++++.+;+1i+3;1‘+ +Â¥+++++ +++ H+++++ C....l"l‘l-Zf‘l iii. ° The Martens Ear“. curly= and Gervase Hickman looked expectantly at E-.l\\'fll'tl. thinking he would follow them, which he did not. Mr. Rickman had long since vanished into the charmed privacy of his study, and Mrs. Rickman had gone in to avoid the dew, but sat at work in a window looking out on the garden. "I must go to the sh"earers’ supper," Gervase said at last. r.“Pérhaps, Annes- ley, you wouldtnot care to look in as well. You would find the humors of a shear-{east stale?" "Of course he would,” Sibyl replied for him. “But I shall go and have my health drunk. Nonsense, Gervase, I shall go. You know i always do look in for a min- \lte. Come at once." loved her .‘0 truly. She took her brother's arm and bore 0t 1310 She had fought 118111 against him off, protesting, laughingly, it is trup‘ the conclusion which had forced itself yet seriously annoyed with sjhyi for upon her by the l‘l\‘t‘l’-Slflt". \thnever coming with him, and angry atAnnt-s- she saw [-1th ant slit» could not. accept ley’s bad "taste in remaining with Alice. the verdict her own l‘t'tlm’lll forced upon The slietlrei‘s' supper was spread in the her. So it came to pass that her thoughts kitchen, a long, low, dark room with continually buffeted her and gave tier no black oaken beams, filled now with the F0511 5119 F050 in ”1'? mornings 1‘1”" udoruf hot. food, the clatter of knives and dcncd by the weight of another‘s guilt. forks and human voices, and the Ren'i- and struggled mentally all the day, till bf'ullfll. shadows caused by the fire-light. at night she lay dmvn'yvitti the here playing on the mingled duék and steam. that. some misconception eXisted, and (jood ale and good beef had by this that a straightforward recnal of all that time brought. the slow-working heavy occurred 011 that ITIOSL unhappy “”0“ machinery of rustic speech into full play. T100“ WOUIG remove the stigma “'in l‘taysh'squii-e was telling his best story; Edward Annesleys name, only to rise ++++++++¢++++++++++ of youth was gone aiio its early liistrc dillbll'xl. [luring thr- pusl months Alice hiio' riil'iered ti “canny, wasting pain, which he was far from divining, and line perpetual.-conflii-t while. niai-ring the beauty of her luCt‘, had left its stamp in an ethereal charm only seen in those who, like Jacob, have wrestled spiritual- ly and prevailed. ’l‘lie patriarch halted on his thigh after that night's wrestling. lNo one may issue alive iinscurrcd from such conflict. and Alice never regained hei youthful bloom. Her face was thin, her eyes were too bright. And though this. suffering was, as he thought, for another. it endeared her to the man who . that. of the smugglers hidden in a tomb, and renew the conflict on the morrow. whose morning uprising from their hid- And when he uttered ”1030 few words at tug-place made sonic tearly laborers g0. thi- tea-table today, his voice, the Silent jug forth to \Vog'k think the last day was devotion in his manner. and the light in come. John Nobbs had just brought his eyes. stirred a new ft-ciing in her, forth a new and powerful joke, at the which should have been hope. but was icincn‘ihrance of which his waistcoat fear. Till now she had not thought that still heaved spasmodically. He was con- he loved her; she had accepted Gcrvase‘s sidei‘iiig which of his songs, “In the theory that his jealousy. unlike Paul‘s. Lowlands Low," or “A Gentle Maiden, was the vile fruit of a light and passing Fair and Young,” he would sing. Sibyl fancy. His very silence. as they paced would fain have lingered at this scene, the turf walk in the balmy evening. told the unsophisticated humors of which her more eloquently of his love than any pleased hei' lively fancy, but after the speech; and the wild flutter of pulses singing of , within her told her too truly that she loved him in return. n ,‘V . ' l ' Hm”; a heath unto our Measter, ' Alter a‘l she was the first to speak; the voundei' of the veast," lli-‘,.’:l“‘ had been dear lllt'll. it was ten-‘ ,fold tlt.’ill't‘l' n .w, though the first glory‘ I He turned away, and then he turned again and lacked in her agitated face. “You mean well, dearest Miss Lin- useless as it is painful. 1 can bear the burden, such as it is. I shall live it down. After all, what is the opinion of others ‘2" “is my opinion nothing?” slli- asked. “it is everything. Alice, Alice, tlnnk ‘tis kindly of tile tl.\ you can. i love you. 'Alicc. I loved you the first moment l >UW you; do not mistrust mu." Ile. has now lit-r taken hands and did through tears. “Tel me the whole truth," she said, “Nil, .‘\ll(‘u: Lu'llt'H‘ IIn‘. but ask inc lli s." llt‘ replied. “Of all propit- .I ran never tell yin lllt‘ story of that “ hour.” “Would it not case your mind to speak ffrcely to one \vho-wwllov who is your friend?“ sut- continued iii a war that touched him. ‘ “No," he answered; “no. It can not be. I must ask you to bury this subject in your memory forever. Dearest Alice. 1 know what sorrow fell upon you on that day. I have not spoken to you of my feelings since. because i respected your grief. But what is past is past, young and without near lies. And I have loved you, faithfully and trulv, ever since that day when I first saw you. And I came here to-day to ask you â€"not to be my wichil. is oversoon for you to think of that. but to begin a new life and think of my need of you, and let me see you from time to time and try to win you. When you know that my whole heart is bound up in you. will you not try to take me for your husband 1’” ‘ Alice disengaged the hands he had been clasping in the growing intciisilv of his words, «and stood a little further from him, pausing before she replied. with a strong resolve to put awav feel- ing and listen only to duty. ' “Do you know what you are asking. Mr. Alinesley’l’ she asked at last; “you Come to me with a stain upon you. and lyou refuse to reinive it by an explana- ion.’ “Time will effaee that stain," he re- plied, shrinking slightly beneath her words. which cut him to the heart: “And though I am not. stout enough to face the world’s scorn and bear the burden myself, I should never ask a wife to share it. I would ask her to leave this place and let me find her a home where these rumors have not been heard. I know that this is a disadvantage, but it love can atone for anything, my love is strong enough to atone for this. If you could once learn to love me, Alice, and you might in time, the world‘s opin- ion would weigh lightly with you.” She was dumb with amazement. The gard." he said. “but this discussion is as. obliged her to look at him. \vhirli slici t'lt) lltll . and can not be changed, and you are. “Think it over." he said, presently. ' can wait. Say that l‘ll‘d} I‘ullli' iigiiii lhli‘f‘." ‘l'lie apparition of tmruw‘ at the «‘n of the lilrl walk inildt- lln-ni \ldl" twin Illt‘l'. and ”19)" \\i'lll It) llit't'l lltlll, the ”g, ,lution in their fact-s hidden by the friend it) (.llhlv'. tJi’l'Hrsi' appeared ~lil'llf‘i<t'(l t :sf‘t' llli‘lll. “I thought you lliltl gone liill_ lap”. Anni-sir}. lu- .‘illtl, ttlllltl"llll_\ in. llllillllll‘tl by lln- .’houglit that ll.\ «on. lpniiy \\:l\ ~lllil‘liliiiilh. “\\ll:tl .i I'llitllll llllLJ night! Soiivi'lwly said .\';b_\l was no ‘in'l'tgi llil\'r‘ you seen llt’l'. \lh‘v'f' “It is lalvr than i lliuiigiil.‘ said liti :wartl: "tllrw ling tlt‘l_\.\ tlr't‘i‘lh,‘ tillt l'iivrl- I‘ no limit ii.1,l_flil2il;ill.~ . “'l‘ltv nioon \\'ill I'lu‘ soon," l‘\‘lUl'flt't‘ 1;. l'\il\t‘; “you had better wall for lli‘l :l t'iivy _\«)ll your ridi- over the duwn~ :\\'liell are you and l to ll1l\-' .un' lllthlll ‘lighl stroll. Alba-‘3' a “.\'tii iii-night." slii‘ i't’Lllll'll. “i an tiled." And when they I't‘ilt'llt‘tl tin: gin dri. door she vanished into lllt' sliiidoww house with a brit-f “goodnight," rt. sponding‘ by a sl gilt lllt‘ltllilllull of ill iii-ad to I‘Iilwurd's nntrtnuh-d tilllllItJlllIll “Write." Then he rode away in the lien} \‘llt‘llL’t‘, and thought if all tin-r with i heavy heart in whit-h thrre glowwt; scarcely a spark of hope. Liver lh~ ghostly downs in the faint dusk and u the rising moonlight he rode, up him down and iii-rims for miles and tulle. and every road of land «Aer whit-h b: rode. was his own. He looked sadly :i: In.. fair lllllf'l'lltllltd’.‘ sleeping it‘uniplilly in the magical moonlight. woodland. fitrni and field spread over line undulat- ing down-hind, and in flit» plain bu- ilt-tllll; he would lle‘ tfih‘li liillf In» llfl- li’l be free. til ll. l-tll‘ flit" pl’lf‘t.‘ llt’ lititl paid for it was too heavy. The face of [ithsliil‘t and bitter will) iiirirlwi‘y. floated before him ghostâ€"like. and look the: ether- ctll sWt‘i‘fncss fl'iiln lllt‘ moonlight. .‘llltl t‘llllllllt'Kl the glory of the ritliii iniinit. night. He saw well that the dead Paul was as serious a barrier as the living unt- |::ul been. lrl"en if Alit-t- recovered from tit-r sorrow. this silence between them must ever keep them apart: since stir did not trust him; ht- could nevi-r hope to win her love. While. he rode away llltl.‘ in the dim summer night, the tranquil household at Arden quieted (lUWIl. and when the funi- ily had retired for‘ the night. Sibyl knocked at Alice's door and entered her room. ‘ “Have you anything to say to me to» night?.’ she asked. “Nothing.” replied Alice. who was ac- customed to this little formula, the pre- lude to some sistcrly confidence: “have you anything to confess?“ -“My sins have not been very black to- day," replied Sibyl, kissing her with on- wonted tenderness, “but I thoughtâ€"â€" Alice. have you sent him away "'{I’ ' than. \\ii.~ $224,573.32. l‘uul. its lie llilfl last seen it. dark wi'lzl if rile” Federal Life . Assurance Company l Of Canada luv \lJtliltlv‘lil of the he t‘I‘LIl Life pl'e‘ _....i.-.i to ih.- ~lit|l‘v‘llliltlt'l'§ at the 251i} ninth-ll lino-ling. Tuesday l‘Jlll inst. .‘ltllt‘lllt'.\ .‘t t-innliiloii «if pittspt‘rily highly _it‘tlllr\ltl;_f ltl lllt‘ \lliJl‘l'llHlllt'l‘S ttlld I."lltl~ of this |)l'of_:lt‘.~:~l\’tf tianadian 'i‘ itiition. ‘I’ht- tlonipiniy has now at st. lllxltt'filti‘i‘ to the amount of $17,88’l,- Tiibt. tll \\lllt'll 362.868.624.33 was writ. l during the your just closed. [is as- N2.7ltl.7tl2.ti2. and guarantee :tliilill SNTIMMMJ. 'l‘he receipts of the year $723.3xl.27_ of which $004,359.61 \'.’|\ premium and annuity int-cine. The lll'l)lll\ to polity-holders at the close of b»,- yrur. uvvttiisivt: uf uncalled guarantee The report ~iio\v~' Ibul the ratio of expenses to pre- ninin lllt‘UHlt' lips dot-reused nearly 3 pet‘ 'vnl. us '7i)lll|)ill‘t'd with the preceding war. The tioiiipiiny has good reason to bri pleased with the progress made and .l look i‘lx ill'l‘ \i'l'tl tot-ward to a continuation of ltipilliir l:i\tif‘. 'l'lie intigniiiri'nl wlnpinrv. I'Ul'llt‘l' of home of the and Main is one of the finest usiu-anm- llt‘tlthlllll‘ltfi‘s in the Dominion. :nid is a credit, to the management and Ilil oriiiiiiicnt to the. city. it is well worth my citizen‘s lime to drop in and take a through this line steel structure, llllt't,l with all the modern conveniences, lIlLl tinislied in the style of the unto-date qu \oi-k office buildings. Nothing has lit-en neglected which could add to the L'tilllltfl‘l of lll0\.(‘ doing business in it. It is a work at. once solid and artistic. l‘. speaks of prosperity, confidence in the future, and that enterprise which com- mands rppcct and success. That it will piove as protitable as an investment as :t is elegant and imposing architectural- ly. we confidently believe, The future looks rosy for the Federal Life, which under the management- of Mr. David Dexter has attained to such prominence new .lantes ’lltnnillon. sl i'-*t'l>‘. look the pent-up resolve to question him, at man Who stood “before her. exalted ,by all hazards breaking forth almost be- honest feeling, his face earnest, and his Get'vase insisted on her going. Alice silently kissed her forehead. the among the successful insurance compan- I She went out slowly, and leaving garden, passed round by thebarns, and mailed away in the balmy June gloam- 'ng, until she reached the belt of ms. the fore Tshe was aware of if. “Mr. Annesley," she said, gently and calmly, in spite 01 the thick heart-beats . . , . . 'hich threatened to choke her “I am mama musar of which was now still V? . . u awtfile; there. she'stoppcd and saw glad to be alone With you for a moment. . , - . I wish to ask you a véry serious ques; nsflf‘Sl PM} SUN. Ream}? into the tion.” She stopped, facing hint. and parent. lemon-timed sky. I , , . , oolved down on the grass at. their feet, She turned her face to the beautiful , , . .- , , _ . .. whale the closed daismm really looked ., leaned her arias upon the rail 1., r , . ikc pearls, marginih'ie. “- ””0““ WC" ”‘9 5mm Sheep he 5 think it im ertincnt” were browsing with plaintive bleating ‘P , p , j, a mellow bell~tinkling, andj watched How is thatpossmle? he remon- is familiar miracle of the star-rising strated, FCCOVQI'mS from the “TSL ShQCk with all the entrusiasm of romantic 0‘ surprise. “AW and New question .Mmi h'er urderll. imagination Suggfi. youqcare to ask can be but- an honor to ring thoughts and aspirations, and con- ““5 ,j-Icing up visions hidden from others; “You have asked me more than once for Sibyl had the sublime misfortune to to be your friend," she continued, “and be a poet, as if being a woman were not. in that name I venture to ask this, not bad enough. from curiosity or any mean motive, but A nightiiigaie's song. mellow. rich and sclelv for youi own sake.” utent,‘.poured from a copse hard by, “Dearest Miss Lingard, this is too good ' , the tears sprung to Sibyl's eyes. ' of you," he replied, whcn she paused at “When the world is so beautiful," she class for further 5 eech. “I, too, have ratified, “and there is the. hope of one something to ask .d something to say, still more beautiful, what can we want but I will hear first,” he smiled, half in more?" pleasant mockery, "what your com- Then she fell into a train of thought. iiiands are.” Whig to find out am give expression "Alice still, looked down upon the W the broad, general meaning of those closed heads cf the daisies. her hands cani'usod and conflicting currents which I nervously locked together before her, ake up the full stream cf‘huinan life. her lips compressed, and her face full ' , 9 best thing in youth. next to its: un- of feeling and purpose. The setting sun iled capacity for czijoyiiicnt, is thaltlii-ew a glory upon her; swallows ‘tless field of vision and conjecture“, wheeled in the pure pale sky overhead: which its dint future offers. :Sibyl stood (sheep-bells, farm-yard sounds. birds’ ' liar and ensivc in the summer twi- ! soiirvs, and the voices of villace children C‘ D ' .f. and mused upon the migh'y cur~lat play. cam borne in suffered tones rem of human life. and her own littleI upon‘ the st ll evening air; opening portion of it, trying to picture what flieiroses. meadow clover. lily scents, aiid inure might. bring her. with an ardent i the vague perfume of the young foliage, 1m and infinite depths. of thought in her l birailied a charm of fragrance about the #k eyes. She saw her parents bending, two lovers. to whom the whole earth tier the burden of years. and clinging ' seemed charged with lllt‘ meaning and to her for support; she saw herself ex- : melody of etherealiztxl passion. Her praising thoughts which FDIllCllIlllflSflchH was overfull, she could scarcely “jeatenoo‘ to consume her, and estab-lind wurds to express her burning. " "ing ,a subtle sympathy between her- thoughts. I and thousands of uni-:nown souls. “You suffer,“ she said. at last. “under En one side of hie might never fully be; an imputationâ€"that is allethe more ter- i'cvealed to her: a whole sequence of joys1 ride because it. is >0 vague.” and sorrows must. be denied her. she Edward started as if a hand of ice had could be only the spectator of the lead-'been laid upon his heart; the whole tug events in the drama of life. Thus. world changed for him, hie sunlight fie. reflected. she might get a true!‘- was gray. and the un- lost. its balm. flange of the whole than if her vision “Yes." he replied. «a» distorted by the storm and stress of "I have thought," she went. on, her ' nal experience. For some deeplheart beating still more rapidly, “much ' t made a fair unbroken view 0! upon it. And \I have thought that you in necessary to Sibyl. might. remove thisâ€"this reproach." ‘So these thoughts came do her as she “I can not," he replied, pale and agi- 'ored beneath the firs, hei- bright lace fatalâ€"“Alice; I can not." to the sky and irradiated by its Alice's memory vibrated with the l tee; these, and others too deep or too words she had heard in 1m pine wood. ‘ to be filtered. “Promise that you will never loll. All ’ the meantime Edward found the need never be known. "Above all she ortunity be had so‘ carefully sought. must never know.” ‘She kwv now-that. 6 was alone with Alice. whose spiritlsho was the Helen of that frah'icidal 'fib stirred by the thought that, a crisis strife. H be: life was approaching, and still “Oh, do not say than" she erled. film by the fear that. she might be too “Surely. aunely you s..ould tell all that to pass triumphantly through it. happened or. that. day. Perhaps, after , strolled silently between the tall all, you have told all 1’” she plcaded, ‘e sentinel lilies, the dazzling petals wringing her hands in the intensity at Q, which shone in glorious piirily‘against her hope. "Oh! you have told all, and f green of the espaliers. Edward was what is rumored of something concealed ovemharged with feeling to speak, is only scandal," she urged, though his his heart mtsgave him when he per- own words about concealment. sounded ed how changed Alice's face was sidle the day when first he saw it. If the boom of a funeral knell. “You will per- ‘ l seecliing voice. in her memory. even as she spolac, libel voice eloquent with passion. could not be guilty of what was imputed to him. she longed for mental blindness. she given half her life not to have overheard his compact with Ger- vase, or Gervase’s subsequent hints. If she could but wipe that hour from her memory and trust him, as he expected her to trust him, then she could give herself to him with perfect unreserve and share the burden that was pressing so heavily upon him, with no reproach from her conscience. “Mr. Annesley,” she at last replied, coldly, “you can not love me if you do not trust me. And if you trusted me, you would confide your secret to me.” “My secret t" a red flush rushed over his face. “Why do you attribute a se- cret to me? I see that I can never win your love, since i have not won your trust." ‘ He turned away, his face dark in the chill twilight, and the misery in it went to Alice's heart. “Let me trust you,” she besought him, “tell me what fodndation there is for these dark sui‘iiiises. Be- lieve me, 'Mr. Anncslcy. I should like to trust you," she added, with a pathos which moved and yet gladdencd liiin. Surely there was a little love in that be- lie thought, and he seemed to see it in the face upon which he turned to gaze in the pale twilight. “Trust me,” he said, his voice vibrat- 'ing with strong feeling, “trust me per- .fectly with a large, unquestioning trust. Remember, once for all, I can not clear- l up this mystery. You do not know what zyou ask, or you would never ask it. i’l‘rust me.” i Alice began to tremble again, and she "clasped her hands together with a 'silent {prayer for guidance. It would be so sweet to say “I trust you ;" but. know- a‘iig what she knew. so \viong; the thing she was asked to condone was too terrible. . “No," she replied, “I can not trust one who does not trust me.” He was silent and bean-struck. Once linore he turned aside and gazed blank- 'ly away over the balmy garden. where the flowers poised their heads in a dreamy stillness that seemed to yearn for speech, and u brown mystery of shadow was being woven about he trees. away to the fits, beneath which Sibyl was standing unseen, to the mea- dows where the sheep weie gazing tran- quilly in the mystic gleaming, to the coppice from the green heart of which a nightingale was singing, to the hill dark against the sky which was bright with the afterglow and placed by a few pale, faint stars. “I do trust you, and I love you as I shall never love again." be said, after a brief. sharp spasm of pain, “but it is all over now. Only think as kindly as you cad of me, Alice, and remember me when you want a friend." He was going. but. an overwhelming impulse moved her to delay him. ”Stay." she arm; “do not. go like 'this. He came back quickly. took her hands, and spoke without reserve wild words of passion. “Hush t" she cried: "do not speak like liens,” and he ms, client. would have “All the world is against him,” con tinued Sibyl; “you should stand by his side.” ' Alice burst ies of the Dominion. +â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"_â€". into tears, and said no- thing. , “Is it because you believe these hate ful scandals?" Sibyl went. on. “Surely" you can not think there is any truth in them ‘2" “I think,” said Alice, lifting her head from Sibyl’s shoulder, “that he ought to clear himself." “How could he?” “lle should make a full and clear state- incnt of all that be d'd that afternoon.’ “Yes. And publish it in the papers. and make the townâ€"crier proulaiin it in Medinglon streets," retorled Sibyl, scorn- fully, “and who would believe it ‘3". It had not occurred to Alice before that he could not now clear himself; that. the more he noticed the vague accusations lodged against him, the more substance ll’iey,would take; that nothing short of a public trial, with its formal charges and formal refutation of them, ending in an acquittal, could efface the stain upon him. If a man is said to be an untrust~ worthy man. it is impossible to dis- prove lhe charge; if he is accused of forgery, he can not be held guilty until the charge is supported by reliable evi- dence. No special accusation could be brought against. Edward Annesley; the worst that was urged against him was matter of surmise at the most. The case stood thus: the cousins had quarreled, and it was known that they had been near each other, if not together, within IL few minutes of the violent death of one; it was not known where the sur- vivor was at the moment of the heel- dent, the fatal teriii'ination of which only was witnessed by a third person. The ldeutli was of great advantage to the sur vivor, the motive for crime was present. The fact that the (lead man's mother re- fused to meet his heir and her nearest kinsmaii was impressive. l-low all this was known, and how all these surniises and conjectures had been built upon the foundation of facts known only to a few persons, and occurring in a foreign country, was a mystery that Edward Anneslcy and his friends vainly at. tempted to solve. “He must have sune deadly enemy," Sibyl had said once, whereupon Gcrvuse advised her not to repeat that. observa- tion. “If you wish to ruin a person‘s repu- tation," he added, “the best way is to lay some charge that admits no dlsproof against him,‘and get it. well tasked about.” “’I‘rue,” replied Mr. Rickmun, who was prisent, “a genn of fact. infinitesimal in magnitude, accompaiued by a certain bias, when passed through the minds and mouths of numerous iiarrators, de- velops to enormous and unexpeced pro- portions. Each narrator odds from a defective or careless memory; heat-says or: reported as witnessed facts; imagi- nation supplies gaps and enhances dc, fails, because the innate artistic feeling of mankind demands a properly pro- portioned story. A savage performs some isolated feat of endurance, he de~ velops into a hero; the deeds of several such heroes are in the course of time attributed to one, whose actions gra~ dually become miraculous, until in the course of ages the brave savage is a god. Such are myths, such is the legendary dawn of history." , These words Alice remembered now, acknowledging their justice, and bitterly regretting and censuring the conceal- ment, wlich she thought the cause of the whole embroglio. Better, far, better for Edyvard, she thought, it would have been, had be given himself up to the Cantonal authori- ties as having been the accidental cause if his cousin‘s death. if, as she supâ€" posed, that death had occurred in the course of a quarrel or struggle in which both had forgotten’ the dangerous nature of the ground on which they stood. If, as she had often hoped. Edward had merely' witnessed the accident, why did he not report what he saw? why was there any concealment? was he afraid of attaching suspicion or blame to him- self? Was' he, in short, a coward? “After all,” said Sibyl, at the end of their conference in Alice’s Chamber that. summer night, “what do these calumnies matter”! They pain him naturally. But he will soon live them down.” Which was but an‘echo of Edward’s words in the garden that night, Alice reflected, as the doors closed upon Sibyl, and left her to the unwelcome companionship of her oWn thoughts. (1‘0 be continued). .g._._. ALREADY PROVED.’ A young man who had inherited a large fortune from a rich but very e00» noiiiical relative decided to. live on a scale commensurate with his greatly inâ€" creased income, and was making ar< rangements to build a fine mansion, buy an automobile, and invest in other expensive luxuries, when an elderly friend who had always been one of his advisers undertook to rcmonstraie with him. “What’s this I hear about your squaliâ€" dering the money your uncle left you. Harry?" said the elderly friend. “I am not going to squander it,” he- answered. “but I'm going to get some good out of it." “it's enough to make him turn over in his grave. Didn't your uncle prove in his own case that a man could live on a personal expenditure of less than one thousand dollars a year?” “Yes.” “Well?" “Well, he proved it so thoroughly that I accept it as deiiloustrated. What is the use of my continuing the expert~ meat?” By the treaty of 1817 Great Britain ,and the United States bound themselves met to keep more than one war vessel apiece upon Lake Ontario. There are at present 16,000,000 Euro. pean settlers living out of Eumpe.