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It was an awful ride which Lady Blanche had undertaken, and for the remainder of her life she re- membered that night journey. V “Sir Joseph tells me you wish to help me, Lady Blanche." said Dr. Greene. “Do ynu not think you fell She did not hear him, but stood with her eyes fixed on the motion- less face, while she drew off» her gloves. They reached the house, and at the sound of their approach, Sir Joseph came to the door. He start- ed as his eyes fell on Lady Blanche, and he looked beyond her as if he expected to see some one else ~â€" Floris. “La-(1y Blanche !” he said. “Have yoy. 00319 all]. way_. 7 n Beside him stood Dr. Greene, and at a little distance the iser- able boy whose inexperienc and youthful impatience had been the cause of the accident. Dr. Greene looked up as she ap- proached, and scanned her face critically. r “Isâ€"{s be asleep?” she whisper- ed, lmskily. “No,” he said, aloud; “you need not be afraid to speak, Lady Blanche; he is quite unconscious, and will remain so, I am afraid for some time.” “Is he much hurt?” she asked, he: eyes riveted on the white face. “Very much,” he said, concisely. “The stag did not spare him, poor “Is it dead 3” she ground but be~ tween her teeth, with a sudden savâ€" age flash of her eyes. “Is itâ€"â€"the stag? I do not know.” “Yes,” murmtred Lord Harry. mlserably, from the other end of the room. “And you have ridden all this way in the dead of the night!” he said, scarcely yet realizing that it was really she who stood before him. “You must be wet through, Lady Blanche, andâ€"and I am afraid there is no change of clothes; we have, unfortunately, no wo- men~folk here.” She shook her head. “It does not matter. No, I am not very wet. I do not care in the least. Sir Joseph, can Iâ€"can I see him? But of course7 I can! I have come to nurse him.” Sir Joseph stared. If any one should have come, it should have been Florisâ€"the girl to whom he was engaged. His thought found expression. “Lord Norman, thank Heaven, is alive l” he answered gravely. ‘Lady Blanche put her hands be- fore her eyes and remained motion- less for a moment, then she accept- ed Sir Joseph’s arm and allowed him to lead her into the house. “Have you told;how is Miss Car» lisle? I trust the sad news has not made her ill?” be said. “Weâ€"we did not tell her,” she said, coldly and distinctly. “We thought it better not to do so un- til~until we know how Lord Nor- man really was. This is Why I have come.” Sir Joseph felt surprised. “You have not told her?” he said gravely. “I am rather sorry, I think she ought to know. But per- haps she will follow with Lady Pendleton in the carriage '2” he said. “Perhaps so,” assented Lady Blanche; “and now will you go and see if I may go to him, Sir Joseph? D1". Greene may want me.” “Yes; Dr. Greene says you may see him; but he thinks you should have some rest.” ' They entered the bedroom, and La"y Blanche, pressing her hand to her heart for a. moment, unseen by Sir Joseph, glided to the bed. There lay Lord Norman, white to the 1ips-â€"wh_ite as the bandage about his head, saving for the dark red scars on his forehead which the savage stag had caused. ' She fell rather thafn slipped from thev_s_a.(‘i_dle qu caught his gun. “Te11â€"â€"tell me the truth!” she paflted. r f-‘Is ‘heâ€"-â€"” â€" Her white face and suppressed emotion startled him. He went upstairs, and came down again after what seemed an age to her. ‘She took off her hat and put it (103m with a gesture of refusal. Lady Blanche looked up wildly. She__l_1ad almpst forgotten Floris! .0w 1” Fighting Life’s Battle; CHAPTER XXIII. OR. LADY BLANCHE’S BITTER PUNISHMENT had better rest for a. while? Your journey has been an extraordinary one for a. lady to undergo.” She shook her head. “I could not rest. Tell me What I am to do 2” “Floris!” he breathed. Even then she did not speak, but her'hand stole along the bedclothes and enâ€" clcsed his hot, wasted one, “Floris! You here? What has happened? Ah! I remember"~he “Floris, Floris! I am sick of the name!” said Lady Blanche, with a curl of the lips. “Listen to me!” and she came quite close to the agiâ€" tated woman. “Floris Carlisle is not here, she will not come here. You know why, as well or better than I do. Do you think because she has jilted and deserted him, that I should do so, too? Wait! I have come down because I have something to say to you. Remem- ber, please, that I am Lord Nor- man’s relative; that'I am nearer to him than any Floris, jilt or no jilt, and that it is 1â€"1 and no one elseâ€"Awho will tell him how she has deserted him! I will brook no in- terference from any one but Miss Carlisle, and do not expect to meet with any from her!” and, with a wave of the white hand, she swept noiseleissly from the room. The days passed; the litole stone house, which had been built for pleasure, had become like a hos- pital. On the evening of the fifth day, as Dr. Greene stood beside the win~ dow, looking out on the wild scene with a grave and anxious face, he heard Lady Blanche whisper his name, and turned noiselessly to the bed. Lord Norman had opened his eyes and was looking at Lady Blanche with an expression'of conscmusness in them. He inclined his head, seeing that any further remonstrance would be useless, “Ah, that explains it!” he said, with a relieved air. “It is fortu- nate that it has happened so, though we may have to send for her. Now don’t cry, Lady Betty. Dr. Greene does not withhold all hope; and we have got an excellent nurse in Lady Blanche.” “Keep his bandages moist, please,” he said. “I am going downstairs to prepare' fresh ones. Call me if he gives the slightest sign of returning consciousness.” Lord Harry stared at her with his bloodshot eyes, and almost fright- ened by What he had seen, rose and stole out. The morning broke, and the sun came sleepin through the mist, and the noon and evening passed, and still Lord Norman lay as dead to all around him, as if indeed life had passed the portals of his white lips; and still Lady Blanche knelt down by his side. Lady Bettyr flushed again, but be- fore she could speak the door op- epod and Lady Blaqche glided in. ‘Sir Joseph, thinking that he would be in the way, left them, and the two women confronted each other. “You have come, then,” said Lady Blanche. “Where are the the things you have brought?” “The nurse!” echoed Lady Blanche. “Why did you bring one? I am the nurse, Lady Pend1e~ ton.” ‘ Lady Betty began to tremble. “What right have you here ‘2” she demanded. “Do you think Floris will be pleasel when she hearsâ€"” As he left the room Lady Blanche sank on her kn es beside the bed,- and let her head drop until her lips rested on Lord Norman’s. “Oh, my darling, my darling!” she breathed. “You will not die! You must not die! No, Bruce, Bruce, live for my sake! My dar- ling, my darling!” m’i‘blvfid nightfall the carriage frgm Ballyfioef grriveg. It contdined Lady Pendleton and a- nurse, but‘to Sir Joseph’s amaze- ment, no Floris came. “Have you told Miss Carlislet” he asked as he held Lady Betty’s trembling hands, and tried to en- courage her: “No!” said Lady Betty, flushing and than turning pale again. “No; Miss Carlisle was summoned from Bullyfloe quite suddenly, before the news arrived!” “The flur-se has them,” Eaid Lady Betty, coldly. added, with a faint effort at a smile. “Isâ€"â€"is this? boy gate _ _ “Blanche, you are a good girl! You have been helping Floris to nurse me, eh? It is just like you! You look pale and tired; you have overdone yourself. When Floris comes back I shall tell her to send you away for the whole day.” - She found her voice at last. “Yesfi’ she said, almost inaudib- ly, “when Floris comes back I will go away and rest. Butâ€"but; she is more tired than I am, Bruce; and the doctor has ordered her to keep to her room.” Dr. ‘Gréene drew a. silk handkerâ€" chief across the feverish eyesfl ' With a gesture of obedience'he turned his, head on the pillow, his hand still on Blanche’s. All night Lady Blanche sat with his hand in hersâ€"hers which he thought was Floris’ !â€"and in the morning he awoke, with the fever left far behind. “Lord Hart-y is all right,” said Dr. Greene. “He has gone home.” “Poor boy! I am glad of that. I am very tired! How long have I been lying here} The whoie day ’1” “Don’t talk now, Norman.” he said. “Try and sleep. We will tell yoy..__a_11 about it in _the_ rn_9rning_.” “No? I am glad, glad, glad! But white and thin, Blanche, eh? Poor Floris! We must nurse her now, Blanche. My darling! Ah, Heaâ€" ven, how I have longed to be able to speak to her! But though I knew she was hereâ€"though I knew she held my hand, and could feel her breath sometimesz could not speak. I suppose I was halfâ€"uncon' scious, eh, Blanche?” “Yes, dear 2” “Am I very much knocked about?’ i She was silent. “Oh, don’t think I am anxious about my personal appearance,” and he laughed weakly. “But am I too much knocked about to let her make it an excuse for putting off the wedding? I want to be marâ€" ried directly I can get about. Eh, Blanche Z” “Yes, she won’t refuse now. A sick man mustn’t be contradicted, that you know. How long has she been lying down? I wouldn’t have her disturbed for the world, but I shall be so glad to see her. Doc- tor,” turning his head, “do you think there is any fear of my going off my head again 'l” - “Not if we are careful not to ex- cite you,” said Dr. Greene, looking m, Blanche, significantly. Lord Norman laughed. “Oh, you won’t excite me,” he said. “I have had enough in the way of excitement to outshine any- thing you can do in that line! I shall never forget seeing that mad boy rushing on to his death, as it seemed! Thank Heaven I was able to get up to his side in time! Poor boy! Gone home, has he? I must write to him as soon as I canâ€"I’ll get. Floris to write toâ€"day, and tell him I’m all right! When we are married he shall come and stay with us 3” He paused, for want of breath, then fixed his eyes on Lady Blane-he’s face. “My poor darling!” he murmurâ€" ed, fervently. “G0 to her, Blanche, and give her my love, will you? And tell her she is not to come to me on any account until she is quite rested,” he added, wistfully. Lady Blanche rose and support- ed herself by a. chair for a moment, then she found strength to creep out of the room. “Six daysl Sixwand Floris has been watching all.the time! My poor darling!” and the tears â€" he was still fearfully weak and easily movedâ€"rose to his eyes. “Six days unconscious! And, of course, you all thought I was going to die! Is she very ill, Blanche l” Every word he uttered went through her heart like a knife thrust. Fancierâ€"â€"“This dog, madam. Would be cheap at $100.” Ladyâ€" “1 would take him; but I'm afraid m3 husband might object.” Fanâ€" cierâ€"“Madam, you can get another husband much easier than a dog like “Why, Blanche,” he said feebly; “you here? Where is Floris? Has she gone to lie down W’ She inclined her head. “I am glad of that. Poor girl! She must need some rest, surely? She has been watching beside me all? nighg Ahasrn’t she 2”, Lady Blanche smoothed the bed- clothes. “Don’t talk yet, Norman,” she said, huskily. { "Blanche, how long have I been lying here 2” ' “Six days, Norman,” she falter- ed. * Lady 'Blahche shook her head. She could not speak. 7 Every word he uttered went Her punishment was almost hea- vier than she could bear. (To be continued.) She nodded an assent and went In discussing the desirable quali- ties of sheep, less is generally said, and less importance appears to be attached to type than in the case of cattle, hogs, and some other classes of stock. There is evidently a wide variation among fleckâ€"owners as to the class of sheep, in respect of size, to breed, in order to produce prime mutton, and wool of good Weight and quality. The tendency to give preference to size, over quality and constitution, is evident in the se- lection of sires made by many breeders, and we‘believe that, as a. rule, this is a mistake. Size, when other qualities are equal, is desir- able, but unless accompanied by Width of chest, breadth of loin, masculine appearance of head and neck, strong legs, and thickness through the heart, all of. which are indications of constitutional vigor, the probability of his proving a pre- pctent sire is slim. As a rule, in breeding sheep, as in most classes of stock, the mediumâ€"sized sire, strong in the points above mention- ed, is the niost successful sire in begetting uniformly typical proâ€" geny and improving the character of the flock or herd. The quality of the fleece is also important, and this should be of uniform texture over all parts of the bodyâ€"fine, dense and lustrous, and its handling quality such as to give promise of desirable weight. As a rule, long legs are accompanied by a. narrow chest, a slim neck and a weak loin, indicating hard feeding qualities and late maturity. And these unâ€" desirable feeding propensities will, to a considerable extent, be impart- ed to his progeny; while the medi- um-sized ram will be likely to im- press his desirable type upon his off spring with much certainty. In purchasing a ram, care should be taken to secure a superior animal, even if the cost be greater than for an average sort, for, as a rule, the best is the cheapest, if bought with- in reasonable limits as to price. We can see no objection to feed- ing a new milch cow a reasonable amount of grain. Of course right at the beginning of the lactation period one should be taken as to how much grain and what kind of feed is given, but the time to estab- lish a milch flow is at the begin- ning of the lactation period and this must be done by right feeding. This requires a certain amount 0‘; concentrates in order to produce the most profitable results. If a cow does not get enough nourish- ment she will draw upon her body for a. time. After the surplus body tissue or fat has been removed she will begin to shrink in her producv tion, which, of course, is not pro- lfitable for the man that is milking er. In some cases salt is added to the roughage to make it more palatable. This is done particularly with roughage that-is of inferior qality. It is the general practice of dairy- men, however, to add salt to the grain rather than to the roughage. Many feed it entirely separate. It has been noticed that hogs, especially when kept in confineâ€" ment, appear to have a craving for what might be called unnatural sub stances, and will eat greedin such substances as charcoal, rotten wood, ashes, mortar, etc. v Some of these may not be good for the animals, but it is pretty certain that charcoal is a stomach corrective, and it is good practice to keep a stock on hand for this purpose Where there is plenty of timber near the farmer can readily pre- pare charcoal by burning wood un‘ der a cover of earth. Where tim- ber is scarce and valuable, and There is no objection to feeding roughage to a cow immediately af- te" she receives her concentrates Most of the concentrates pass into the third and fourth stomachs very little of it reaching the first sto- mach, or the paunch. It is not well to water a horse immediately after eating, as it tends to move the feed from the stomach, but it is not so with the cow, Milking a cow up to the time, of calving does not permanently imâ€" pair her milking qualities. It is apt to affect the lactation immedi- ately following such practice. It is better to let a cow have from 4 to 6 week’s rest. She will usually do better and last longer under such treatment.â€"Hoard’s Dairyman. WHEN THE COW FRESHENS. CHARCOAL FOR HOGS. TYPE IN SHEEP. where corn is grown for ripening charcoal may be made by partial ly burning the cobs. Make a pit, start a. fire of wood in the bottom fill it with corncobs. and when they are half burned cover it over with something; or, in other words, smo ther it out. Then put the charred cobs in a self-feeder, or store them in a corner of the feed house, sprinkling some salt over it, and keep a low-sided box filled with it.’ so the hogs can eat it at will. If charcoal is not provided, keep cond stantly before the pigs a mixture of one part of Sulphur and about ten of wood ashes. Some such con- diment appears to be required by, hogs, especially in winter, to pre-' vent derangement of the stomach. Pigs that are outdoors in summer and have access to earth and vege- table matter have little need of other correctives. Toâ€"day Britain has at least six ships of similar design, but which are as great an improvement on the first Dreadnought as she was on the types which preceded her, whilst Germany, America, Japan, and even Brazil have also “gone one better.” Already a wellâ€"known naval ex-j pert has declared that “the officer, of the present era has an average:- of ten years in which either to clear" out of the service or seek refuge in; a lunatic asylum.” The reason forE this is that the result of every gun‘ practice is to unnerve officers and men for twentyâ€"four hgurs. It is not generally known, ob-I serves a Paris contemporary, that the Czar has a private orchestra.” which on rare occasions appears in public. This orchestra, we are told, l must not be confused with the Im-E perial Opera. of St. Petersburg. The‘ orchestra dates from the time of; Alexander III. in 1383, who entrust-' ed its formation to Major General Baron de Stackelberg, himself a, composer and skillful musician. "All the musicians, in addition to their wages, with board and lodging, are entitled on retirement to a 3 ' People who have been reading about the rapid progress which has been made in recent months in the conquest of the air do not realize that naval development is more than twice as rapid. The Dread- nought of toâ€"day is the scrap-iron of to-morrow. . Britain invented the first Dread- nought. She was launched less than three years ago, at a cost of well over a. million pounds. And now we hear that Captain Percy Scott has invented a, means by which one man can fire a. broad; side of guns by electricity. Then there is the problem of wireless te- legraphy, with which all British Dreadnoughts are now equipped, whilst a recording station has been established at the Admiralty itself, enabling the Sea. Lords to corre- spond almost instantly with vessels far away at aea_.._ Another startling invention has been credited to the French. Re- cently secret experiments of great interest were conducted with a new 26-inch luminous shell Whichis liko-' ly to prove a valuable asset in time of war. The new shell throws out a my of light when it strikes. During a night-attack it will indicate the range of the enemy Without expos~ ing the firing warships to View by means of their searchlights. Airships, too, are to play a great; part in future naval warfare. Of? the future of the aeroplane nothing. at present is definitely known, but" every Dreadnought of all the big nations which goes into action in‘ the future will carry a complete; “balloon section” consisting of a.’ captive military balloon with a full staff. This is rendered necessary by the fact that from a great height the son is absolutely as clear as glass, enabling objects to be seen at a' tremendous distance below the sur-i face, thus enabling commanders not only to spot the enemy’s battleshipa‘ from afar, but also to obtain timely warning of the approach of sub- marines and other engines of de- struction beneath the sea. " How will it end? When shall we get to the final chapter in naval construction? The answer probalr 1y is Never, so far as novel engines of war are concerned. The back-blast of th‘e guns is so violent and the concussion so pro- digious that eyes swim, ears sing, the brain seems softly to seethe and limbs twitch for a long spell after- wards. If this is so already, what will it be like with the heavier guns which are now being evolved? â€"- Pearson‘s Weekly. What the Battleships of the Future are Like. CZAR’S PRIVATE ORCHESTRA. THE DREADNOUGHTS.