t â€"_‘ te++++++¢++++++++++++++++++++++++++++t++++++e vv++++++++++++++++++ w +++++++++++++++++++ CHAPTER XVIII. I As Gordon and his c‘ompanim made their way in the (III'OCIIOII of Mindeii _ the former pondered upon the meaning of the scene ovrrhcard by Ster- roll. Could he doubt, with the know- ledge that was in his mind, that the ex- corporal was right and that there was .a_connccfioii between this attack upon him and something which had taken place. or was to take place, at Mindeu Lane; couldafic doubt also that the taller man of the two whom Sferrcft had over- heard was fisher? \Ushcr's appearance, and his connection with these. street rufllans, IIIIII nearly ended fatally for lumself: did il bode evil also for Vivieune's ,falher 1’ "I‘ruc, Usher was apparently friendly till now with Gaunt; true, Gaunt. himself trusted the man; but (Jordon felt that he himself did not; he. felt in his heart that this couple. both father and daughter, were but pawns in some desperate game which the gambler was playing. and that a'._any moment, should the necessity arise. such a man would not hesitate to sacriï¬ce both of them, or if not both, at least the one whose life he cared for least. He felt lliat there was not a moment to be lost in seeking Mr. Gaunt, and at uleast. informing him of what he knew. Should Mr. Gaunt be still in safety, should he he possessed of information .which kept him convinced of Usher‘s bona-fldes, or refuse to lislcn to Gor- don’s suspicions, then all that he could do would be to give his energy to help- ang Vivienne, who more and more usurped his thoughts. With all the haste that he and Ster- rett made, It seemed an interminable time before they stood at length in front of the little gate in the wall in Minden . ane. ~, All the streets in the district were bad- Jy‘, enough lighted, but Minden Lane per- haps, because it was a cul-de-sac, was practically some fumbling before Gordon could even find the handle of the gate. The place had been gloomy in the 'daytime, but it was eminently more un- cliecrful at night, Gordon thought, as they made their way up the weedy path. There was no light to greet them. no sound of habitation, only the deserted If '-'house seemed to loom up at them from you! of the darkness and tiring forebod- ing: to Gordon’s heart. “An empty house, sir?†said Sferrett, as they approached the front, and the ‘broken windows and curfainless rooms commenced to show up. . "Not quite empty, I hope, Sterrett," returned-Gordon. “By heaven, though, I am not sure," he continued. “Why the front door is open! What can have happened ?" I, With a. spring he left Sterrett's side and ran up the steps. He struck a light as he reached the hall, and making quickly for the cellar door, he flung him- self down the steps. t There was no sound of any kind to tell him that Gaunt had heard his com- ‘a'ng and risen to welcome him, and when he called his name, no answer came “back. Furiously he made his way again through the whole of the basement, but there was not a sign of Gaunt: and even his. clothes and tiles craps of food upon the barrel had disappeared. Dismayed, Gordon returned to the hall and met Sterrett, who had produced ‘41. lantern from somewhere and was look- ing contemplativer about him in the hall. . ; "Nothing gone wrong, I hope, sir?" he said, noticing Gordon's face. “I don't know. I fear so,†said Gor- ‘don. “Lend me your lantern." Sterrett handed the light to him. and together they paced slowly along the passage. i There was enough footprints there now: more than Usher‘s, more than Gordon's; the place was covered with them. and down the cellar steps and in 1ho cellars. the ground was trampled as 'if a small army had been engaged there. Gordon eyed the traces keenly. and turned to Sferreil. “There has been a struggle here," he said. . , Slerretl‘s eyes followed his Silently. “'Yes, sir; there has been a bit of a scrimmage," he said at length. After examining the cellars thoioughly hr the aid of the lantern, they returned upstairs. There was, still llm possibility. faint as it was, of course. that t-aunf might still be in\fhc house. but as soon as Gordon reached the stairs up from the hall, he knew that the hope was vain. The foolmarks were. all from the cellrr door to the front hall; the dust upon ihc stairs was as thick and undis- turbed as it had I'tf'll when he had visi- ted it before. Mr. Gaunt had disappeared. there wasI not a doubt of it; but how‘.’ Had he gene quietly. of his own :iccird? Not. if Gordon‘s experienw. ' the trackers had fought him anything. [hid he been taken by the police, or had Usher and his safelites for some purpose of their own abducted him? At all events, it was a case, he felt, ‘ where Sterreff's help might be invalu- ml-le to him. . , “Someone has been hiding here. Ster- rrtrd’ he said, after a moment‘s con- siif~‘i‘uli-:iii. "res. sir: the young lady’s father, I supine: ‘3" NO't Guilty ; assesses Or, A Great Mistake. in darkness, and it. took dents ++ ++++++++++++++++++++ +++++++++++++++++++++++ “Yes. He was here this afternoon. Ilfc did not expect to leave here at once, for he. was awaiting my return. But he. has gone. as you see; and evidently tIIt’l‘Q has been a struggle. Ilc‘has been taken touriny away; 1 am sure of it. The question is, who has done. if? and you can help me here? Is it the. police, or-â€"â€"â€" 1’" “Or Jeff and his pals, sir? Oh. I don't think it’s us. There ain't a police foot among all this lot, though it‘s hard to make ’em all oiil, they‘re so friimpled afoul. But, 'ho; I don‘t think it's us. sir." “Then it's those scoundrels. and there's some villainy on foot, or there would have been no struggle. I must see Mr. â€"Mr. Gaunt (I may as well be frank with you, Slei‘rett). It is of the greatest im- portance that I should see him. What are we to do †' Slerrett thought a moment. “Well. '51:," he said, “we can only try. I said I would do a good bit for a lump of money just now, and this here is in my way. You've behaved like the gentleman you are to me. I can be of some. use to you. I daresay. If you care to say the word, I'm at your disposal." Gordon held out his hand. “You can be invaluable to me, Sferrett," he said. “Miss Gaunt and her father had nothing really to do with this murder, 1 am sure of it, or I would not. have brought you here to-night. But my object is to prove what I believe, and that will not be asy. There is a reason why I dare not go lo Scotland Yard myself; there is more in this affair than meets the eye, more than might ever be discovered if the police were to blunder on to the half- truth now. But time is pressing. I have but a week to do what I can do, if I have that. If you help me, and we succeed, I am not a rich man, but I can give you what you want in a small way. If we fail, well. you will have done your best, and you shall not have cause to think me ungrateful.“ Sterrett’s iron ï¬ngers closed on Gor- responsively. “It‘s a bargain, Sir," lie-returned. “It's a lucky thing I happenbd to be dodging about when Jeff was talking to that swell. I think I can put my hand on Jeff pretty quickly, and what. he knows I can ï¬nd out. But, ï¬rst of all, we will ju't make. certain that. our department had nothing to do with this business here to-nighf. Come along, SII‘. By the way, do you happen to have any idea who that swell was ?" ._ “I think I know," said Gordon; and as they went along, he told the taxâ€"corporal as much as he considered advisable of his connection with Usher and the Re- gent Street murder. Sterrett nodded as Gordon finished his story. “That was this Mr. Usher to night right enough with Jeff," he said; “and there isn‘t any doubt that he ar- ranged the two things. Bill and his gang was to knock you out and lay you up for a time; and Jeff and his lot. have taken off this gentleman here. It looks to me as if this swell's game was to keep Miss Gaunt and tier father apart. When he saw that you knew where they both were, and were going to go backwards and forwards, he began tc‘get frighâ€" tened. Do you think he did the job, sir?" “The murder ‘3" “Yes, sir." Gordon shook his head. “I don‘t know, Sterrett." he said; “or, rather, in my heart of hearts Ido think he did, and yet it seems incredible, too, for surely if he hadâ€"“ He stopped. It was inadvisable for him to say more at that moment, for he had natur- ally fold Sterrelf. nothing of Miss Gaunt's self-accusation, or of Mr. Gaiuit's confirmation of IL, and would not do so. Sterrett's declaration that the police could have had no hand in the abduc- tion of Mr. Gaunt was speedin verified by discreet. enquiries on his part at headquarters. There had been no new developments of the case since the papers had begun to lose interest in it, and the police were merely continuing their in- quiries slowly and methodically. with a clear prospect. before them that the affair would be destined to remain as impenc~ frable as it had seemed at first. The only hope, failing news from Aus- tralia. which must. of necessity fake a long time to arrive, was in the dist-mu cry of Mr. and Miss Gaunt‘s where abouts, and these. thanks to Gordon's fortunate encounter with the cx-cor- poral. were still unknown. \\'hcn Sterrelf joined Gordon again. and informed him of the result if his observations, it was nearly midnight. and if. was quite evident that there was' very little more to accomplish then. Arranging, therefore. to meet the defec- tivc early on the following morning. Gerdou said goodnight to him. and made his way home. worn out with the events of the day. CHAPTER XIX. Iiarly the following morning IiOf'IIi'in received a note from Sicrrell. in which the latter informed him that an occasion had arisen which would prevent him from keeping his appointment after lunch. He added that the delay was caused by Gordon's own busine~s. and that. there seemed a possibility of that business proceeding satisfactorily. Having nothing to do, therefore. until lunch, the Colonel determined to call upon Miss Gaunt again. Q. acre, while, as yet. perhaps. [here was no danger to fear; but he always hoped that as she saw him offener and knew him better she might be led to confide. in him something of the mysterious his- tory of that night in the flat at Regent Street: something which might. throw some light upon the tragedy and explain the attitude which she had taken up. Ile found her door open to him on this occasion, and he was shown directly into the room where she sat, ‘ He could see that she was glad to see him again, and the light in her eyes found a response in his own. as she gave him her hand for a second; but it touched him deeply f2; notice her face resume its former sad expression as the lliish faded again from Ilf‘l‘ cheek, and to Ilf‘fll'~Iil"I' sigh as .\Ilf“ sank back into hei chair and look up the work which she was engaged upon. She had not spoken, cvccpt tr, nh'p the ordinary snlufafion, but he felt. that lzrr eyes had, almost in spite of herself, asked him the question which was in her mind. and he replied to if as if the words had indeed been said. “I have no news yet, Miss Gaugf," he said. “but if. is early to expect that I should. I fancy, however. that before long I may have something to tell you, and that something good. Meanwhile, may I hope that. all is well with you 1’" “Quite well, thank you." she replied. “Miss \\'rrnt, my old governess, is very kind to me. and I am very ron'iforf- alil-c. If is only the dreadful waiting, wailing, which is so hard to bear. If only I could see my father sometimes, I could have more patience." fordon sighed. It was impossible for hm to reply satisfactorily to the half- qncstion, and he was silent for a mo- ment. “I can only repeat that I am at your service with all my thoughts and ener- gies," he said at. last. “and that I am sure, as I have been all along, that there is some way out of all this trouble, some way which will leave you free and happy again. with your mind at. peace." Miss Gaunt looked up at. him. and at his tone her eyes filled with tears. “Thank you, Colonel Gordon," she said, Simply, “I am sure if it were in your power to help us you would do so. But, alas! it is not in your power, or in the power of anyone to undo what has once been doneâ€"but of what use to talk more of it? There is a week yet, a whole long week,†with a sad smile†Gordon, “beforeâ€"â€"â€"" “Before I succeed in accomplishing a miracle." said Gordon, “and not \ery long a time either in which to accom- plish what is nowadays such a very un- usual thing. But come, MISS Gaunt, it is something to see you snipe. You wi make me quite conceited soon, and I shall be Iancying that I have almost suc- ceeded in oonvincin g you that. this is not all so hopeless as it seems." Miss Gaunt shook her dark head. “Ah, no. it is not that," she said sadly. “It isâ€"ah, I suppose. it is that one some- times forgets sorrow for a moment, however great it may be, when one is with someone who one feels is kind and sympathetic." Gordon leaned a little forward. “I mean to be kind. certainly,†be said, “but am I sympathetic to you? You know.†he said, with a little smile, but with an eagerness in his tone which he could not disguise, “sympathetic may have two meanings; it may mean that. I sympathize with you, or it may mean thatâ€"â€"â€"â€"" “That you are what the Italians call ‘simpafico' to me," said the young girl, raising her lovely eyes laughineg but shyly to his. “Oh, yes, if it pleases you, I think you may consi’ler yourself that." Gordon felt that his heart was beating as no woman had ever made it beat be- fore. and his eyes met hers almost ï¬ercely. “And you think, then, that I would let you throw yourself away, sacriï¬ce yourself for the sake of some miserable misconception, some mistaken duty? Miss Gaunt, tell me the truth; Iftll me what it all means, this tragedy, this mystery which surrounds you§ and give me a fairer chance to help you ‘1†For a moment. the young girl appeared to hesitate, and her look turned towards him; then she closed her eyes swiftly as if to avoid his eager glance. When she raised tier long lashes again the look which Gordon had seen rising beneath them had disappeared, and she had re- covered her self-command. “To be simpatico," she said, smiling. though with a little effort, “does not im- ply the right 10â€"fo almost command, Colonel Gordon, andâ€"and you are not with your regiment now. Ah, forgive me, I do not mean to hurt you; you have been so kind, but, do remember, uh, please remember. the letter which I gave .mu to read." Gordon was silent for a moment. and then : “Forgive me.†he said. ‘tllr angry with me. if you must. but fill me one |thing. or. at least, let me ask the ques- lit-ll: flow can it. be flat while in that . letter you almost speak as if if was your ‘fafher \vlio “us saved from the conse- qiiches of that awful deed. he. in his lurn, believesâ€"â€"?" I “My God, what 1’" Miss (.aunt's face had turned deadly pale. and her lovely eyis were staring of Gordon in amazement and horror. Confused and dismayed. hc~ stood silent. unaware how at the moment to recover from the mistake which he saw h-’~ had made. But the young.r giil gave him no time i, think, She approached him closer, and fixing her ryw‘ on his. seemed to read his thoughts. I “What were you going to say?" she asked. “All. be kind. tell me! But you >hnII. you must: I insist l" “llul: Miss flaunt." begun Gordon. rather weakly. “1â€"1 " “Tell me. Do you mi-nn that. oh. whim-cm ii i,- not possible. that heâ€"â€"my. . fallli‘l‘wllly own dear fatherâ€"believes “"1 If.“ If“. “PMâ€? “~ “"‘ that 1â€"" must Il-‘i\" it‘ll ll - '. "i~- \vrilinclib'e.‘ Misery. amazement, horror were in her ‘VI‘N ‘I'ï¬ â€œâ€˜I‘Ii‘“ 1h“ ' ““uc’V “'l’!‘ eves. and Gordon. mcrwhelmcd at Ilir‘gi'il‘“ i “‘3 "I ll“ “ll-I 3". I'ul result of his unfortunate qtli'<|i«iii. nusj‘er- fl ‘31 -\"~~'J “'5 “"u {'1' \“W. <lr. ‘ _ lfc'didiiotw’nh staring at her blaiikly. whrn smith-iii}. ‘;-.- l“"'l‘ U. “if†if†he! to know of her fathers disappears uk- dooi- opened and these-ruin conn- .'.1 [bio I Iquickly. "A gentleman to see you, sir," she said to Gordon. “He says there isn't a moment to lose, and will you come, at once? Ills name is Sterretl." As she spoke a step si’nmdwl in the passage. and the ev-corpziral appeared in the doorway. He gave a little glance: a: Miss Gaunt, and then came to Gor- don's side. “I want you. sir." time h. lose. then rzliiiO on here on chance. come at once ?" Gordon nodded and turned to Miss Gaunt. “I will return as soon as possi- He." he said. “Forget my wretched speech; if, was a mistake. believe me. that is all. Let me beg of you to be palicnt and wait just a little longer." And with a last look, he turned away with Sferretl. “\\‘hat has happened?" he asked. as they reached the street. where he saw flint Sferrelt had a cab in waiting. “'l'hcy've got him in a house down near the docks: a pretty bad shop. and w‘. may have some trouble to get him out. It was no good my going.r by my self, for. you see. sir. if then» should be a row, my positions a funny one. So I came for you." “.\nd he is safe~iuihnrt‘?" “He's a bit knocked about. Jeff says. I' was Jeff I heard it from. [could get |~~ri ten years any time I chose to raise my little finger, and Jeff knows it. So he told me. But he's out of it now. any» way.†“But what do you think they mean to do ‘3“ asked Gordon, as they entered the cab and drove away. Sferrett shook his head. ‘v‘t‘zouldn't say. sir; but it's a had shop: and this LTshcr seems a pretty bad hat. 'Betfer not leave him [here longer than we can help.†Sterrctt ordered the cabman to stop. after a long drive through what seemed to Gordon one of the worst. parts of Iondon, at the corncr of a dirty. illâ€" he said. “We've no (in n you ‘lis:is\25T-t‘lllen smelling street, from which could be seen the masts and funnels of the ship- ing in the docks. “It‘s a good step from here. yet." he said; “but. this is as near as it would be sat? to take a cab. We‘ll soon walk the res .†, He jumped from the cab and turned down the narrow street. Gordon; fol- lowed hiin,.fhanking Providence in his heart for the fortunate chance which had brought him into touch with perhaps. the one man who could have served him so easily and quickly, and praying, for Vivienne‘s sake, that they might find her father still safe and sound. Meanwhile, Sterrett wound his way in and out of the lanes and alleys with the certainty of a foxhound on a strong scent; and at last they pulled up before a large and deserted-looking building. It had more the air of a warehouse in disuse than a house, with IIIS great doors flung open wide; and the wide, barndike place beyond was ï¬lled with scraps of metal. old crates. stuffed with straw, and rubbish of every kind. “This is the shop." said Sterrett, cast- ing a careful glance around. “We go right through. There may be several of 'em there now, or there may not; but it‘s no good looking about. If there‘s a row. there's a row. We must chance it.†He turned in at the doors, and made his way, followed by Gordon, stumbling through the rubbish of the shed. (l‘o be continued). 15,000 TRADES IN GERMANY. One is That of Eisenbahnbetriebstele- graphcninspekfionsassistcntcn. The imperial statistical bureau in Ber- lin has just published the result 'f a cenâ€" sus taken‘on June 12 last of a the pro- fessions, trades and occupations wh'wh w ere pursued in the empire on that day. 'lhe complete list includes 15,016 items. It is regarded as a remarkable growth of Specialization. Some of the callings have thousands of followers. In many cases there are only a few. In some cases only one person in the whole realm is earning his livelihood in some fashion which calls for separate classification. The list illustrates the German love of accuracy and also the capacity of the language for exact titles. One man, for instance, is set down as li‘orstshutzdien- sfanwarfer, which means candidate for he forest protection service. A considerable number come under the head of Kreiskommunalkassenkalkula- for, or district public treasury appraiser. There are also several who fall under the title of Staatsschuldenzalilungskassen- kcnfrolrn, or bookkeepcrs of the fund for the payment of the public debt. The climax of title, however, is reached in the somewhat mnm-rous and somewhat bumble group who are described as Eiscnl.ahnbelrii‘bstelegrapheninspcktio- tens of 'l'htsc are the assistant inspectors in the railway telegraph service. One (.I the odd occupations is that of court liuymaker. Blumistinnen or flower girls are common enough. but there are only three specialists known as Vcrgissmeinnichfmacher. IOI‘gt’l-Illé‘vllot makers. One man make: his living by l'i-llllllg oué compressed air, he is regarded as very peculiar in Berlin. So is the man who has lottery wheels for rent. Soothsnycrs and quack doctors are frankly catalogued as such. and so are strollers, vagulujuids and trumps, The climax Is reached in the ca~e of ii single man who is put down as a professional smuggler. .g. .\ “Whinir .-iiferc:l :i \ve‘l-knonii [.1 ii- don -' H “(VIIL v.':il|¢:l'. [YO-7- lllll izn-Ev- ... â€"' niglu'.’ .-.\i . i-pwlow tin- ii-vlo. um] I I f in iriiiiiu’ I . if I s; w I went to your IlIllf't‘. and‘ the \\'i'it?ii;_'-t;ililci ] \V.['1lIt‘ ii lolli‘i‘ intending; I find this‘ i I + i + + * + + + + + + + + i I I g + + ‘ Alli] I III F ‘ I 9 . U B ahï¬z * + t o. *- HH++++¢++s++++++++H \\’li.\.\'lNG AND \vix'i‘uiurio THE. izom‘s. l‘l.c high price of gmd horses justi- fies the farmers in giving greater corn and attention to good breeding and good feeding especial‘y. so that the colts can gel the best early develop- ment and will add an exlra 100 pounds which will sell for an extra $|00 when the quality and conformation is right. \ practical breed-er tells how to wean and mature the colt. In attempting to write an article on this subjC't. we will give. briefly, our own experience. The ï¬rst question that arises is when or at. what age should the coil be, weaned? That all depends upon cir- cumstances and condiluans. “'0 have weaned colts. from three to seven months. and colt are doing nicely, I would not wean until the coll is at least six months old, and I have let them run seven. If mare has arduous work and is thin in flesh, I wo‘uld wean around four months. If cell for some cause or other is not doing well, I would wean at two months; and in some cases still younger. \\'c often find that the mares milk does not. seem to agree with the coil or else. she does not give enough to do much good. and in either case I would wean quite young and put on cows milk. The colt may at. first. re- fuse to drink the, milk: some do and others drink at flrst Offering. ll it re- fuses to drink the milk I would shut it away from water for a day or two and it will soon learn not. only to drink, but to relish the milk. Always add a little brown sugir to cow's milk. No colt should start into winter thin in flesh. If they do they-are likely to come out very thin and worth less than when weaned. For we claim that the' first winter determines largely the fate; of the colt. So we always aim to have{ our colts fat and slick by stablingi time. We often have colts low in flesh, at weaning time. but always aim to, have these same colts in good flesh ch fore real cold weather sets in. And this is the way we go about. it. Of course we see to it that the oolt is bothl a good enter and drinker before we‘ wean it. We aim to have them eating. bran and oats at two months. Have a' little though for colts and tie the mare, so she can’t. get to the colt‘s feed. \Vhen‘ we are ready to wean, we shut the colt in a clean and roomy box stall, with plenty of good,.clean wheat straw for bedding, leaving it here until properly weaned. We give colt at first one quart of new (cowi‘s) milk (sweetened ed a little) morning and evening. It a road colt, three pints of crushed oats and bran, half and half; if a draft colt two puarts of same kind of feed. each feeding. As the colt becomes accus- tomed to eating grain and drinking milk, we gradually increase the grain allowance and also the quantity of new milk within ten days to two quarts, if the good wife does not object too strongly. We then add to milk one quart of warm water. handful of midâ€" dlings and oil meal each. After two or three weeks we change from new milk' In sweet. skimmed milk, and make suit: that it is sweet and vessel used well cleaned. I like a wide mouthed gallon tin bucket best, as if. is easy to keep in proper condition. I would gradually increase oil meal and mlddlings in’ milk until I have two or three hand-' hits of each, for a big, growthy colt. After six or eight weeks of such feed- ing your colt will be fat and sleek; and you can then drop the milk and slop and feed a liberal allowance of crush- ed oats. bran and an ear of corn. shell- ed. in it now and then for variety. and frequently a handful or two of oil meal. I have had large, growfhy draft colts. at one year of age, to con- sumc from two and a half to three gal. Ions of such feed per day. If a roll. is in good condition at weaning time it. is not necessary to use milk, as you can get good results with- out if. By the above method on thin colts we have increased the weight of draft colts one hundred pounds in thirâ€" ty-fwo days after weaning and in an- other case one hundred and ten pounds in forty days. llavc gran colts up, to one year old lhaf weighed from «her thousand jmunds to twelve hun- dred pounds and as high as sixteen hundred pounds at two years of age. and not pampered either. With us the Li‘llt‘l' the care the greater the pay. Now is the time to brush the mono over and educate if. to stay where you want it, If possible familiarize the coil with the boiler and curry comb; als: handle its feet and by use of a 'good rasp see to if that the coils feet are kept lcw‘. at all times. Keep toes rather short and sidi- ruspml down that l\\4‘-'II'.‘ least: but do nut molest the frog unless it gets thrush in it. In such it out with diluted carbolic ruse \\ ash "hp at .‘l C~ill|ll1ll‘illl\'(‘l}' curly hum; huh]. (llw part i'kllliolii; élf‘ld to twenty ‘IlllI he. “did you find :IIpul'ls \\‘:if0:'. then fill in L‘UIOIIIC‘I and puck owning: \\ iii nukum t'i' cotton, .\fl.-;* pragmï¬' wintering the colt, do u] “U! Hm, ji . ;l hnxf spring to .ivc or hip.“ h you; do you will stunt its g,._,,,.ii,; 54-“ 2.7 it that it gets a little. 15min (‘UI'II merit-2:. fiivc if. goal care “N. “Hwy. winter and it will be a , 'pm-o; by flu; time it is two years old 'i:i«.‘l‘s UI for“ ill be- . and i'i‘i'il)’ for “(MK 01' I0 C“lf|13":.l:_' -,- gocd pi ice. M. i If the mare is idle and herself -