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Floris, as shue entered the room in her dark brown habit, was SUI" rounded Instantly by an eager cir- It was a merry party at breakfast next morning; the trip to the easâ€" cades was a well-known and favusâ€" ite one, and the young men who had been left behind were delight_ ed at the opportunity which the ab sence of such great guns as Lord Bruce, and some of the others wh) had formed the hunting party, gave them (3f scoring with the ladies. Floris shook her head with a gav- ture of scorn, and pointed to the door. “You have my shall not break it. “I haNe mademoiselle's promise that she will not disclose what I have said to a, living soul!” sal.) Josine. “Yes,” said Floris, putting she hair from her brow, “I consent. It i? wrong, I know it, I feel it, but ~â€"-but I cannot help it. I am like a reed in your hands. May Heaven forgive you, Josine, if you are fle- ceiving me. And yet, and yet: would to Heaven that you may U: deceiving me. Yes, ifâ€"if what y m say is true, I will promise to leaVe Ballyfloe at- once. I will speak to no one; I will not betray you, my poor girl.” * A gTeam of satisfaction lit- up the black eyes. “If I show this to mademoisellc, if I convince her that what I have told her at so much cost to myself is true, will mademoiselle promise me to utter no word, to tell no one, but to leave Ballyfloe at once? If not, I will do nothing. If not, 1 am ruined. Miladi Blanche has me In the hollow of her hand, and she must not know that I have betrayed her. If I show mademoiselle that I have not lied, if I prove to her that I have told her the truth, wit; she leave Bellxflpe Vat once '1” “Good 3” ejaculated Josine. “And then, when mademoiselle sees with her own eyes and hears with he; own ears, what about it then 7” ed her voice and crept nearer tn Floris, “what if I take mademoi- selle to the conservatory, and she see and hear miladi and Lord Nor? manâ€"â€"- Ah!” Floris shuddered. “Not till then would I believe you,” she said, trying to speak un- daunted‘ly. She paused, and leaned over Floris. Floris rose up and stared at the black eyes with a, wild fascination. “Will that convince mademoissr le’! Yes, or no ’1” “No! a thousand times no!” es- claimed Floris. Josine shrugged her shoulders. “Ah, well, but you are diflicult to convince! Mademoiselle is so young and so innocent that she can- not believe that others not so young and so innocent can be so wicked! Well, now! What if~â€"” she lower- “Mademoiselle knows Lord Norâ€" man goes out hunting to-dayl 1n an hour or more he will have gone.” Floris’s lips formed a “Yes.” “Soh! And that the ladies are to take an excursionâ€"an expedi- ‘tion? Yes! Well, then, what if I say Milord Norman will return~ alone~by himself at noon? What if I say that Miladi Blanche will make an excuse and remain at home? and that they will meet in the conservatory and fly together?” “It is a. lie!” panted Floris. “Sohl Softly, mademoiselle.‘ Proof is what'I offered, and it is‘ what I will give. Suppose, whm {on are starting, you find that mi- adi refuses to go? That she do- cides to remain at home? She has the headache, say? She will stay in the_house, eh?” . “Yes, mademoiselle,” responded Josine, sullenly; “and I am not mad. Wicked? Yes, I have been wicked, and I should be still, if my conscience would let. me rest; but it will not. I cannot be Miladi Blggclnp’s .sla_ve any longer.” “Tell me all youvwantrto tell me, and then go!” exclaimed Floris, feebly. White to the lips, but with an in- credulous smile, Floris rose, from her chair and confronted her. “You are either a. very wicked girl, Josine, or you are mad,” she said. “You know What; it is thatiyou have said 2” Fighting Life’s Battle; CHAPTER XV.â€"(Cont’d) CHAPTER XVI. 0R, LADY BLANCHHE’S BITTER PUNISHMENT promise. Iâ€"â€"I Go I” “Miss Carlisle is no young lady of mine!” she said, showing her teeth, with a spiteful smile. “But *1 will take it to her, and save your long legs,” and with a saucy smile she rag past liim. “Mademqiselle will not go 2” murâ€" mured Josme. Josine went into the adjoining room; Floris was standing before the glass with her hat in her hand, and she shrank back as the girl approached._ “Yes!” said Floris, in a low, stern voice. “I do not believe a word of what you told me last “Josine, we shall have to part!” said Lady Betty. “Oh, don’t trou- ble now! I have finished, you tire- some girl! You know I can never put my veil on properly! No, you shall not touch it! Go and see 1f on Miss Carlisle wants you; “What is this now '1” she mut- tered. “Snmething that; may spell our little play, perhaps! A plague on it! Shall I give it; to her at once? N0! Josine must see it first, at any rate! It will keep, no doubt!” and she thrust it‘ in her peaket. Then she opened the door, and met Lady Betty’s in uiry as to where she had been mt a. profuse apology. Outsidé the door she paused, with the jglegrgm her hand. Jbsine took it and glanced at the direction. It; was addressed to Floris. On the way to her mistress’ room, Josine met a. footman with a. tele- gram on a. salver. “Here you are, Miss Josine!” he said: “a telegram for your young lady.{’ “I shall not go out this morning,” she said, quietly. “Please take off this habit and give me a, morning gown. When you have done so, take my love to Lady Betty, and tell her that, I have received an important letter from Lord Seymour which 1 must answer. You need not go un- til the last moment.” ljady Blanéhe dismissed her with a nod, then summoned her own maid. “And are you sure that she will not reveal what passes ‘1” “I am convinced!” responded Josine, eagerly. “Miladi may rely on it that nothing in this world, will induce her to open her lips! She is too proud, ah! far too proud! rely on that, milqdi.’_’ Lady Blanche nodded'; then, with a. sudden pallor and with downcast eyqs, she said : “Just after lunch, miladi,” sald Jo-sine, thoughtfully. “There will be nobody at home; the house will be quite clear for the little com- edy, as Mr. Raymond calls it I” and she showed her Whlte teeth. “'1”. end of the conversation, miladi‘l’f A Lady Blanche colored, as a pang of jealousy ran AtrhI'rough_l}er.l__ “That will do,” she 'said. “And â€"â€"and the time-‘1” “All is prepared, miladi." she said, in a, low voice. “It was a great trouble, and at one time I thought I should have to give it up in despair. It was so hard to con- vince mademoiselle that milord could be faithless ! He is always so devoted to her, as all the world knows! Ah, yes! it was hard.” Floris and Lady Betty went up- stairs to put their hats and gloves on, and Josine was nowhere to be found. At that moment Josine was in Lady Blanche’s room, standing with demure eyes and clasped hands before her ladyship. With a. good deal of boisterousâ€" ness the young men sallied out of the breakfastâ€"room to the stables tc see after the horses, as they said, but in reality to get a. chance to gmqke the morning cigar. Presently, in the midst of the chatter and laughter which always seemed at its merri-est at breakfastâ€" time, the tall, graceful figure of Lady Blanche glided into the room. At sight of her Floris’s heart gave a great leap of relief and satisfac- tion, for Lady Blanche was in her riding habit, and was evidently go- ing to the cascades, therefore J0- sine was either mad or had, for some purpose of her own, lied! cle, each man of which was anxi- ous to get a. word from her. But Floris could do little more than smile this morning; her heart seemed heavy as lead, strive though she did to get rid of the dread and suspicion that tortured her. ‘What shall I do?” she murmur- ed. “It is fortunate or unfortu- nate. as I choose to make it. If 1 give it to her now it ivill spoil all; and yet it is hard to keep it,” glancing at the scrawl with hard, glittering eyes. “Bah! I will not give it to her until aft-emvard. It will be time enough, ah, yes, it will be time enough!” and carefully reâ€" closing the envelope, she put back in her pocket. The morning passed. How, Floris, lying with a heart torn asunder by conflicting emoâ€" tions, scarcely knew. All seemed still in the great house. Not one With 5 smile of satisfaction, she drew fout the telegram and read it. And as she read it, her face went pale and grave, and her hand shook till the thin paper trembled like a. leaf. Then with the patience of a rex Indian, she held the envelope over the steam, until the warmed part had become moist enough to allow her to open the envelppe. But the pink paper was foldev inward, and with a gesture of imâ€" patience, she went downstairs and got a jug of hot water. Reaching her own room, she lock- ed the door, and took the telegram from her pocket. For some min- utes she looked at the mean and miserable envelope which the post office authorities deem a, suflicient covering for so important a missive as a. telegram, handing it this way and that in the endeavor to deci- pher some words of the contents. And with this piece of worldly wisdom and comfort she went out. “Mademoiselle will remain here until I come for her,” said Josine, significantly. “And let mademoiâ€" selle console herself that it is bet- ter to be undeceived than fooled to the top Aof one’s ‘bent 1’? Floris looked at hér with a. mixâ€" ture: pf_repu_gn§,nce and fascination. “Keep a- good heart, mademoi- selle. Ah, but no manjn this world is lymph >a. heaytache, after all 1” And, with a strange reluctance that she remembered afterward, she left her. ' Josine stood looking down at Floris’ pale face in silence for a moment, then she bent down and Whispered: “Good-bye, my dear,” she said, kissing her. “Mind, you are to sleep for quite two hours, and you are not to go into the sun. I shall expect to see you quite yourself when I come back.” “Do not think of me,” said Flor- is, with a. sigh, as she sank on the bed. Then with a sudden impulse, she put up her arms-‘and twined them around Lady Betty’s neck. “Goodâ€"bye,” she murmured. Floris was usually so undemon- strative, that Lady Betty was touched by the simple carevgss. “Let me get you a draught be- fore I go, then,” said Lady Be, t), anxioualy; and she went and mixed 8. draught from her medi- cine chest. “There, dear, take that, and now lie down and get some sleep. Josine, get Miss Carâ€" lisle’s dressing-gown, and cover her up well. I am sorry, dear. I rshan’r- enjoy myself one bit; I shall be thinking of you all the day.” 7 “Do you think so, dear? Well, if you would rather I wentâ€"” “I ‘would much rather,” falter- ed Floris. Laiiy BEtty hesitated, and Josine sf,ng Watching them both. “Mademoiseulle will be better to i)? quiet and alone,” she said, soft- y. “No, no 1” said Floris. “Please do nobâ€"there is no occasion. I would rather you did not!” with a feverish flush. “Iâ€"I shall get some sleep, perhaps. I will not stay unâ€" legs you go!” “No, don’t,” said Lady Betty. “I thought you didn’t look well this morning. No, you shall stay at home, and I will stay and sit by you.” “Miss Carlisle has a, headache, miladi! A bad headache! I do‘ not think, if miladi will pardon me, that mademoiselle ought toxgo for so long a. ride in the hot sun I” Lady Betty came into Floris’ room at once. “What is the matter, dear? Why, how pale you look 3”â€"with anxious curlqerp~“Arq you ill?” “1â€"1 have a bad headache,” she said, and truthfully enough. “I «10‘ 319?; think I_ rwill V g0.f’ “Floris! Blanche has sent to say that she is not going! She has some. letters to write!” Floris turned deathly pale, and caught the gdge of the. table. Floris could "scarcély speak for a. moment. Jasine smilea triumphantly, then went into Lady Betty’s room, with her gabâ€"like sjep. r “Ah! we shall see!” muttered Josine, bending her head. “Madeâ€" moiselle will wait a moment? Lis- ten I” she'added, as Lady Blanche’s maid entered the next room. The next; instant Lady Betty called out: night?» You are a wicked girl, Jo- sine I [n I write entirely from personal experience, with some knowledge of sheep and science; but in such cases neither the one nor the other appears sufficient to stop the mortality, which, be it remarked, is not due to any specific outbreak such as rot, lung trouble, or gid, but seems to be due to a general upset of the digestive system. It is accompanied by diarrhoea, con~ stipation, inipaetior.‘; and death is followed by frothing of the mouth and enormous distension of the abâ€" domen. It may attack lambs, tegs, or ewes, and appears to be at- tributable to errors of diet. In some cases death is sudden, a ewe falling down dead at the hayâ€"crib. More often a shepherd leaves an- imals apparently in good health at night, and finds one or ltwo stn. and blown up in the morning. The master becomes almost afraid to Everyone who has kept a large flock of sheep must have experienc- ed what are called strokes of bad luck. These misfortunes may occur at any time, but mostly happen at transitional periods of the year or in connection with some crisis in the annual history, of which lambing is the best exâ€" ample. The mysterious nature of these attacks has always been a puzzle to flockmasters, for sheep are hardy creatures when well, and the appearance of the flock may well warrant confidence in their well being. Suddenly a death is reported, which causes no partiâ€" cular surprise or alarm. If, howâ€" ,erer, such a casualty is succeeded 1by others of a similar nature, a different feeling is aroused, and the owner and the shepherd are found in close consultation in order to find a cause. Meanwhile thel mischief continues, and eachl morning, or seldomer, fresh deaths or cases are reported, and it soon appears that for some reason or other, the flock has been upset. Inquiries are instituted, perhaps in these columns, intestines are sent up to experts, veterinary as- s15tance is called in, all too often to little purpose. The mischief continues, until it appears to ex- haust itself, confidence is gradually restored, and the matter is attri- buted to those misfortunes which appear to he inseparably connected with the maintenance of a large herd of live stook. EMHHHHHHHo'Hm EFFECT OF DIET ON SHEEP. Floris, with the deepest repug- nanceâ€"Which would have been un- endurable but that she believed the whole thing to be a. farce-â€" looked through the opening, and saw Lady Blanche standing beside a- small table. Floris made a gesture of assent, and Josine, unlocking a door quiet- ly and stealthily, crossed the conâ€" servatory, and drawing Floris into a. corner, behind the shrubs, point- ed to a small room, which led to the conservatory, and was draped at the opening by curtains, partly drawn‘asidg Aand looped up. Q++++§++++++++++++§+++ “Hush, mademoiselle! Not a word! And remember your promâ€" ise! Whatever you ‘see you will not betray yourselfâ€"or me!” She recognized it at once as the spot in which she and Lord Nor~ man had discovered Josine hiding. Another coincidence! Drawing close to her, Josine pxt herfinger to her lips.__ “Hush!” she whispered, huskily, and putting up a, warning finger, for Floris seemed about to cry out. “Do not speak, mademoiselle, but come with me? She has gone down- stairs, and he will be here pres- ently.” ‘ Josine stole down the stairs, and Floris following her, in the same halfâ€"torpid state, found herself in a small hall outside the ponserva- tory. The great clock chimed the hour or two, and as its echo reverberath through the huge place, the door was opened softly, as Josine enterâ€" ed. She seemed in a state of suppress- ed excitement, her thin lips tightâ€" ly together, her black, heady eyes gleaming like coale. of the guests, excepting herself and Lady Blanche had remained at home; a. stillness like that of a. calm before some dreadful storm seemed to lie upon the place; arm the pitiless sun that streamed through the blinds fell upon her face with a. mockiug merpileesnese: At last, when she could lie still no longer, she got up and put on a. morning dress, and paced the room. About the Farm (To be continued.) Food, no doubt, is a véry princi a1: item in sheep amanagement, an is: so important, that it cannot be dis- missed in one short article. I there-, fore, shall hope to give a few morq cases at a future time, bearing up-, on the vast importance‘ of judici- ous feedingâ€"J. W., in Live Stock Journal. ’ no roots that year, and clover hay, cotton cake and water were too heating. All went (n for some weeks, but the heated condition of the blood seemed to fly to the teats and spread to the udders, affectâ€" ing the lambs as well. Both ewes and lambs, being above ordinary value, made this a serious matter, and was a great trial to the shep- herd, who was in excellent spirits during the lambing time, and had a. capital “breed” of lambs. On an- other occasion, when roots were scarce and hay and water was al- ternative,pthe ewes became con~ stipated, and when lambing time. came many ewes were affected with hemorrahage and several died. This also was attributed to a heated condition of blood, owing to eating much clover hay (i.e., mixed clover .and beets), without roots. It they had received mea- dow hay and a few white turnips ‘the mischief would not have hap-: pened. In this connection it may he remarked that the same course of feeding might easily have provv ed harmless, for these strokes of had luck appear to be due to a. combination of circumstances. If however, a sheep farmer has once experienced a loss, and traced it to' such causes as have been mention- ed, nothing will persuade him to repeat it. He will hear of others doing the same thing without evil consequence, but his mind is made up. I have known a, flockmaster say that he would not allow his flock; to walk over a field of swedes be- fore lambing, and, doubtless, he had got reason for his vow. Still,l others do so, and think nothing of it, because they have not been hit- tenâ€"but once bitten, twice shy. Food, no doubt, is a very principal.1 I will next give a few cases in‘ which I have been caught napping1 and had to bear the brunt of the loss. The first instance occurred in my days of pupilage, when I was a spectator rather than a sufferer.‘ There was sad loss of ewes and: lambs under able management, thei cause being eventually traced toi food. It happened in early spring in mild weather, which caused the turnip greens to shoot and flower,2 and the cause was, no doubt, too} succulent food, containing crudei nitrogenous matter (omides), which. acted injuriously upon the sheep,l upsetting their digestion and poi-f soning the blood. The second case occurred to myself, and it is note»; worthy that it happened during my first year of farming. The pre-' vious tenant had allowed his hayl to stand till it was too old, prob-. ably with the wish to secure as big a block of hay for valuation as; possible. In the succeeding spring; the turnips ran, and the cones», quences W°re innutritious hay, and; imperfectly developed green food.l The result was a rapid falling 0ij in condition of the flock, which un-l fortunately was hidden from me,I by an accident, which kept me on my back. The result was the deathl of about sixty ewes and all their’, lambs, and it was long before the survivors recovered their normal strength. The serious misfortune. was entirely due to errors in feed-i ing, and I will pass on to another.l {Some years ago my ewes were af- 'fected with sore teeth, which com-i lmunicated itself to the lips of the lambs, and the consequence was that the lambs could only suck with pain, and the ewes crouched and stamped when the lambs attempted to approach them. This proved fa.- tal to many ewes and lambs, and was diflicult to account for. It, however gradually become appar- ent that it was caused by a heat- cd state of blood, brought about by diet of clover hay, with an allow- ance of cotton cakeâ€"too albumin- ous in its character. There was visit his flock or to ask after them! and is daily worried by bad news. Now the best thing he can do, un- ‘der such difl'icult circumstances, i , ito shift his sheep on to entirely, ‘new ground and new food, and this, ‘measure is often eminentlyl successful, so that the plague is stayed almost immediately. Thel problem is, however, by no meansl solved, for in the first instance i was not suspected that anything was wrong in the general manage« ment. Hay, roots, cake, and daily outrun are all in accordance with good feeding; but for some reason,| more or less occult, the particular food and situation appears to have upset the flock. The difficulty lies in foretelling the mischief, for nei-z ther shepherd nor master anticil pated it, and it is scarcely likely‘ that anything will be done till some-‘ thing has happened. When, how-l ever, the to-scin sounds it is time/ to act promptly, and the treat-l mth must he in the direction oi change of food and situation. '