Dead. Past I
By MRS. LOVETT CAMERON
CHAPTER XVIII.
Rosamond Earle bad spent one of
those nights of wakeful agony which as
suredly lear their stamp upon - the
health and constitution more certainly
than many a week's indisposition which
eur friends reckon as a legitimate ill
ness. She knew very well what was before
her, what struggles with her own heart,
what battles to regain her peace of mind,
what frequent and pitiful relapses into
abject despair and 'misery; this is al
ways the woman's portion when man
sins against her; and Rosamond by bitter
experience understood that It was her
fata.
Worn out and exhausted, mentally and
bodily, by the long hours of agony she
had undergone, she lay upon the stiff
hot sofa with closed eyelids, and face as
leaden-hued as any corpse. Her boxes
lay packed and strapped up in the ad
Joining room. Everything was ready for
departure; but Mrs. Earle did not yet
know where she wss going.
"I must hare peace," she said to her
self half aloud, "rest and peace."
Tour woman, she bad to learn that
there is no such tranquil spot under the
face of the sun whore a heart that car
riis about Its own mortal wounds within
Itself can know either rest or peace.
She was tired of trying to settle where
he was to go. Then some one came
with a quick step across the room and
knelt down beside her sofa.
"Mrs. Kirle! Rosamond! You are
running away from me! Is this treating
me fairly or like a friend? But what
U the matter surely you must be 111."
"I am ill," she repeated, in a dull
roice, striving very hard not to brpak
down under the kindness of his voice
and eyes.
He knew instinctively that this trouble
was of the mind and not of the body.
Lovers find out these things.
"And you are going away? Where?"
"I don't know I don't care; some
where quiet anywhere. I can't settle
cn any place.
He got up from her side and walked
Impatiently about the room.
"Oh, this will never do!" he cried in
much distress. "I cannot let you go
away In this state of uncertainty. You
are evidently ill not fit to be alone; you
want a man to take care of you."
"Men, men!" she repeated, a little
wildly. "What is the good of a man?
Are they not all alike false and cruel
and treacherous?"
"Dear Rosamond," he said, holding
her hand with reverent tenderness be
tween his own. "Is this home-coming
alone so very terrible to you? Pour out
your heart to me, my dear; do not con
sider me; I shall not be hurt by any
thing you can say. - Do you miss your
poor husband so very dreadfully? Do
not think of me."
How blind how almost stupid he
was! She, who was breaking her heart
for the love of her life, and he talked to
her about her husband! She could al
most have laughed.
"Oh, don't you understand don't you
see?" she cried, despairingly. "You think
ine good and faithful; you look upon
me as a model wife; you imagine that I
am like the typical widow in St. Paul's
epistle. Should I grieve like this sor
row so wildly so desperately if It were
merely death that had stricken me down?
Ah, death would have been nothing
nothing at all! Cannot you guess that it
Is not because I am a widow, but be
cause I have always loved one man
always all my life; and I have come
back free free to love him, to claim his
love to be happy at last and I have
found him married!"
And in the wilduess of her sorrow she
flung herself back again face downward
upon the cushions, convulsed by an agony
of sobs and tears.
Colonel Trefusis sat..still quite, quite
still. lie felt numbed and cpjd. II in
fingers, that were loosely locked together
between his knees, did not tighten their
grasp upon each other, neither did they
tremble. His kindly blue eyes did not
contract with pain nor open with dismay,
only they fixed themselves a little blind
ly upon the pattern of the carpet For
a minute or two ho did not speak.
"You see that I must go," 'she cried
despairingly. "Oh, help me to get away
to go where I cannot see him! Tell me
where to go. Help. me, I entreat you!"
This appeal touched him and went
straight to the earnest, practical nature
of the man.
"Yes, my dear. I will help you," he
answered simply. "You shall go to
Dunsterton."
"To Dunsterton! In Yorkshire, do you
mean?" Bhe cried.
"Yes. I have a cottage there, merely
a six-roomed cottage with a tiny garden,
upon the outskirts of a village green. I
had an old aunt who lived there, and
who has died lately and left It to me,
furniture and all, just as It stands. I
should never go there, It Is utterly useless
to me. It will hold you, and your child,
and your servant You shall go there, I
will lend It to you."
"But but " she cried, confused
and trembling. "I know it very well.
It is but three miles from my old home
from Keppington."
Col. Trefusis continued to plead for
his cottage, and Rosamond pondered.
Finally she accepted his offer, on one
condition only; she must pay him rent
for his house. To this he was constrain
ed to agree. There came back a little
animation to Tier, whh this was at last
aettlsl It teemed so much better for
her than to go to some strange place
where she had never been before. Some
few poor people would, she thought, re
member her.
"You will come down and see me
sometimes?" she asked him, as they were
traveling northward.
"No, I think not," he answered, with
out meeting her eyes. "I will write to
you; but I will not come yet After a
month or two, perhaps, but not now,
unless you are in trouble."
For where now were John Trefusis'
hopes and dreams of happy and success
ful love? In the selfishness of her own
trouble Rosamond forgot the strong and
tender love, to whom her confession had
brought the hopelessness almost of de
spair. CHAPTER XIX.
Now, with respect to these two women,
each doomed to suffer, because Brian
Desmond had committed a thoughtless
and selfish error, while the one wept and
wailed, and bemoaned herself with all
the abandon of a strong and passionate
nature, the other had done nothing of
the kind.
Kitten had come In from her bal, to
find her husband sitting up for her. With
one quick glance she had taken In his
haggard, grief-stricken face; the lines
about his mouth, the dark circles round
his miserable-looking eyes. A sickening
gasp of pain had cut through her heart
at the sight, but she had said nothing.
She went to bed, and all night long she,
too, like Rosamond Earle, had lain
awake. All night long she had faced her
agony In tearless silence, and she had
said to herself over and over again: "He
loves her, he has always loved her; I
am nothing to him. What can I do for
him?" For it was for him, and not for
herself, that she thought. What could
she do to lighten his burden and to di
minish his woe? That was her only
thought. Her utter unselfishness, and
the very strength and force of her love
made her long to sacrifice herself; bo that
in some fashion or other she might bring
back happiness to the man she loved.
She rose in the morning as usual, and
at the ordinary hour Brian and his wife
sat down to breakfast together. The
servant brought in the silver-covered
dishes and the steaming coffee. Brian's
paper lay as usual by his plate. Kitten
mechanically opened the little pile of let
ters by her side, that were chiefly invi
tations, written upon dainty tinted and
crested paper; everything to all outward
appearance was exactly tbe same, and
still this strange, self-contained woman
uttered never a word. Just as her hus
band was rising from the table she look
ed up from her plate nad uttered his
name:
"Brian?"
"Yes, Kitten."
"Mrs. Earle is In London."
He flushed darkly red, then turned
pale.
"What do you mean? How did you
hear her name? Why should she not be
in London ? - Remember, I will not be
dictated to about her," he stammered half
guiltily and half angrily.
"Have I dictated to you?" she asked
gently.
"Who told you about her?" he asked
in a low voice, after a short silence.
She looked up at him with one of those
rare1, shy smiles which, in the days long
ago, he had once thought so sweet and
so delightful; and Instead of answering
his question, she said to him softly and
dreamily:
"Do you remember the cherry tree in
the old garden, Brian; and how I asked
you to teach me the secret of happiness?"
"Oh, Kitten!" he murmured abashed,
covering his eyes for a moment with his
hand.
"Pope was right," she said with a
grave, sad little nod of the head. -"No
one can teach that, because no one Is
happy; only for a little while one fancies
it" And then Bhe stole up behind him
and passed her tiny white hands round
his neck, standing behind his chair, so
that he should not see her face, and lean
ing her cheek, that was very white and
hollow, against the dark curls of his close
cropped head.
He tried to draw her round so that
he might see her face, but she kept her
place behind him. And she spoke a lit
tle brokenly, perhaps, but still very gent
ly: "I am not very old or very wise
but I think I have learned one thing;
to each man and woman there Is only one
other soul that can give content, so that
no other person on earth can bring any
happiness to us, but that one only. And
when a man who loves one, by some sad
mistake, marries another "
"Kitten! Kitten! do not say that!" he
cried, but she laid her fingers upon his
lips and went on. "Then with that other
he cannot find happiness; oh, never
never! Do you n?t think I feel It? But
then, what Is the meaning of love If it
cannot sacrifice itself?" He did not un
derstand her fully, nor see what she
meant, nor what she wished to Imply; but
he saw that somehow his love to Rosa
mond was a thing which she had fath
omed; and protested that she was mis
taken, that he loved her and alwsvs
should love her best. ,
That Mrs. Earle was but an old friend
of his youth, whom he had met again
and who was nothing to him. oh. noth
ing at all. Perhaps, Indeed be did "pro
test too much," for Kitten only smiled
sadly to herself. Of what avail are
empty words to one who knows, as Kit
ten knew, that he did not love her
TUa at last, be got op, and mad as
though he would have taken her Into his
arms and comforted her; for she was al
ways a child and never a woman In his
eyes, and It seemed to him that a few
kisses and a few tender words might
make It all right again between them,
and drive away this suspicion which
surely, some Ill-natured mischief maker
must have been at pains to create in her
mind. 1
"Dear little Kitten, silly little tree
elf!" he said half-jestingluy to her.
"What foolish notions have you not tak
en Into your small head! Come and kiss
me, and don't talk nonsense any more,
tree-elf," he said, trying to take her Into
his arms.
But Kitten pushed him back with her
small white hands.
"Go," she said, with an odd little gasp
In her voice, which be only remembered
long afterward. "Go now no, we won't
talk any more nonsense, as yon say It
was all all a mistake."
And so he went and left her. He
turned back to nod to her before he left
the room. Years and years afterward
he could see again the breakfast table,
daintily decked with little ferns In china
pots and bunches of summer flowers, just
as Kitten always loved that her table
should be.
Half an hour later a hansom carried
np a note to a certain house in Con
naught Square, addressed to Sir Roy
Grantley.
"You said If ever I wanted a friend,
you would be one to me. I little thought
I should claim your promise so soon.
Come to me, Roy. I want you.
"KITTEN."
It will be Imagined that Roy was not
long In responding to this appeal. Soon
after be was sitting with her in the
shadowy coolness of her pretty drawing
rnnm, holding her tiny thin hand in his,
and-listening to her in dire dismay.
"Leave your home, Kitten? Can you
realize what you would be doing? What
will people say of you if you go away
from your husband's protection?"
"I shall not, Roy. I shall still be In
his house, only he will not kuow it."
"I don't see how it can be managed,"
said Roy.
"Do you mean that you will not help
me? Oh, then . am sorry indeed that I
sent for you."
"Now, Kitten, you know that is un
just. Would I not die to serve you?
But I cannot see the use of this Btrong
step which you are contemplating. What
Is there to be gained by it? After all,
are you not his wife? Why, if you fear
the Influence of this other woman, why
play into her hands by deserting your
post? How can you better your case by
flinging aside your own rights and the
security of your own position?"
"Ah, you do not understand,' she said
Impatiently. "You talk about my rights
my position. Y uat are they when I
have not got my husband's heart? Will
he not be happier without the perpetual
reproach of my presence? Roy, only
think how awful It must be to have to
pretend to love a person every day of
your life, when you are always hanker
ing after some one else. Think if I had
married you and loved Brian."
He winced a little and turned away.
Oh, women are very heartless to the
men they do not love. It did not occur
to her that she was causing him any
pain, she was too full of the tragedy
in her own life.
i could not bear it," she cried; "and
to see him strive and struggle to simu
late a love for me that I know he does
not feel, that is what I will not sit by
and do. I want to set him free."
"You cannot set him free, not really,
Kitten; it is a folly to fancy it" he
said, almost angrily, for this abnegation
of herself filled him with a blind rage
which he did not dare to give utterance
to.
"Oh, why why did he marry you?"
he said, with a groan.
"That is my affair," said Kitten cold
ly, and rather loftily. If Roy had dared
to utter one disparaging word against
Brian, she would have ordered him out
of the house, and Roy knew It. "We
need not go into that, if you please, but
you can understand once and for all that
our marriage was entirely my own doing.
Will you help me? And will you keep
my secret?" '
He promised to do anything and every
thing she told him.
"I don't see how It Is to be managed,"
he ssld doubtfully.
Kitten rose and went to her writing
table, and taking a letter out of a draw
er, gave it to him to read.
It was from Mrs. Succurden, the house
keeper at Keppington, and was address
ed to Brian. Roy read it through care
fully, then he looked np at her.
"Well?" she said impatiently.
"I am sorry, Kitten, but I really
don t see he said hesitatingly.
"Oh, Roy, you were always a stupid
boy," she said, with a half-Impatient
gesture. "Cannot you understand that
the housekeeper writes to ask Brian if
she may have a girl under her, to take
charge of the china and glass; she says
she Is getting too old to clean and dust
It .all properly herself. And Brian gavs
me the letter to answer, and and I have
written this morning to say that I am
sending a girl down from London. Hers
is my letter, and you must post It fof
me."
But still Roy did not understand. H
looked at her earnestly and fixedly, striv
ing to make out her meaning.
"Roy, don't you see that I shall be
the. girl?"
(To be continued.)
l)eUuhU of Travel.
"Yea," he said, "for seven yearn 1
have been a mall carrier on the Cross
cut rural route, and In all that Urns
I have never missed a trip."
"Such a life mast be delightful," re
joined the Impulsive city girl. "I'm
never so happy as when traveling."
Do not be self-opinionated, but listen
with deference to the opinions of others.
. Hoe Attachment.
American agricultural Implements
are known the world over as the best
procurable, especially for saving time.
This Is true both as to the large appli
ances used on farms and the smaller
garden Implements. A Texas farmer
is the inventor of a hoe attachment
applicable to hand weeding or garden
hoes of various forms and sizes. The
attachment consists of a cutting blade,
which Is designed to be used In detach
ing clinging vines and runners from
the growing plants. The improved de
vice comprises a weeding blade of the
usual form, and connected to the han
dle by a shank which curves upward.
Extending from the shank Is a cutting
blade, curved away from the haudle
and shank.
In using the Implement the cutting
blade Is forced forward or away from
the operator by a pushing , motion,
and by its peculiar form and position
Is very convenient for severing vines,
runners, creepers and similar plant
life from the stalks of the growing and,
valuable plants. The Implement will
also be found very convenient for
chopping corn, or thinning cotton and
other plants, and will also be found
cuts down thk wekds.
very useful. in working corn and sim
ilar crops, upon which vines and creep
ers are liable to be found, and whose
removal Is generully attended with
much labor and annoyance. The cut
ting blade being made integral with
the shank will not be a cumbersome
or objectionable addition to the hoe.
Proteotlnir the Harness.
Every farmer appreciates that the
expense for harnesses and for harness
repairs is considerable during the
year, hence should be pleased at the
suggestion of some plan which will
enable him to keep the harness In good
condition. A harness should always
be hung up. Here Is a simple plan.
Make three letter Ts of strong but
light lumber and especially making
the cross bar strong. Fasten these to
a Joint In a convenient place with the
cross bar at the bottom. Simply use
the arms on which to hnng the differ
ent parts of the harness. If this ar
rangement Is not easy to put In opera
tion, then use hooks fastened to the
ends of stout ropes, but arranging
some way so that the ropes may be
looped back over a hook or nail during
the time they are not In use, so there
will be no danger of any one being
T
Injured by them. The Illustration
shows both plans plainly. They are
entirely practical nnd the use of either
of them will add greatly to the long
life of the harness. Exchange.
('re of Poultry.
The domestic fowl Is very prolific,
nnd a flock can be made to Increase
rapidly If care Is given. To begin
with, r00 or 1,(100 hens require large
capital at the start, as the fowls must
be purchased and suitable buildings
prepared, but it Is not dlhVuIt to se
cure large flocks on limited capital If
the beginning Is made with a few and
the number gradually Increased, as
the Increase of the (lock is also an In
crease of capital. A flock of hens re
turns an income dally, thus asslstluir
to provide capital at the start
'
iriHP
li U
FOR HA.NOIN'O THE HA UNICES.
la Ideal tall.
When one la financially able to hare)
the stalls which combine all the con
veniences they are very desirable, but
the average fanner must put up with
much less. The Ideal stall has a space
between feed rack and gutter of eight
feet and la five feet wide. A feed rack
Is arranged so that the animal may
get at the hay or roughage easily, yet
not waste a great deal of it At one
end of the feed rack Is a feed box
sufnclently large so that the cow can
get her mouth to It without striking
her horns. The sides of this stall con
slst of a fence with three wide boards
nnd runs up four or five feet high, ac
cording to the Ideas of the owner. At
the rear there Is stapled to the floor
ff
STAI.I. AMI FF.KI) HACK.
a piece of 2x4 material to keep the
bedding in place and the animal from
stepping back Into the gutter. The
idea of the fencelike sides is to Insure
ventilation, and if any Uiu anluiaU nra
Inclined to quarrel Uiey can be separ
ated by having nn empty stall be
tween or by building up higher the
dividing fence. The Illustration shows
the idea perfectly.
Care of Farm Machinery.
Many farmers are very careless of
their farm machinery. It is a common
thing to see plows, harrows, culti
vators, mowing machines and even
binders standing in the field for
months without any protection from
the elements. The direct loss from
such exposure Is very great. It
amounts to more than the use In al
most every Instance.
The greatest item perhaps is In loss
of time when the machine Is required
for use next time. Farmers who are
careless enough to leave Implements
in the field nre almost invariably care
less about the belongings of such Im
plements. Furthermore, such men are
surrouuded with help ( that pattern
after the master In this respect. There
are always shiftless characters In the
neighborhood, and they seldom hesi
tate to appropriate any loose article
belonging to these neglected machines,
nnd it Is only natural that they should
neglect to return these things.
The loss from rust nnd decay, al
though considerable, is less than the
annoyance nnd time required to get
the different Implements back Into
condition the following season. Farm
and Fireside.
A Simple Saw Clamp. '
This simple saw clamp can be made
by anyone, and does not need any
SIMPLE SAW CLAMP.
bolts or screws. The two clamps nre
made of 1-lnch boards, 5 or 6 Indies
wide, beveled on top nnd then dressed
down to nearly an edge at the bottom.
The saw Is placed in the clumps in
your hands, and then Inserted in the
beveled slot, and the hammer makes
It perfectly tirm nnd rigid. The frame
can be made to stand on the ground
or floor, or can be made low to place
on work bench.
KlirhtlnK Wrrl.
There Is nothing which hold to the
soil with such pertinacity as weeds.
It Is probable that the Egyptians are
to-day fighting the same weeds which
they were trying to exterminate by
the aid of the Israelites when they
were In bondage. We must always
bear this In mind, that we manure and
cultivate all the weeds we do not de
stroy. Eternal vigilance is the price
we pay for .the extermination of
weeds.
ill I nit to Itrmcnilirr.
Poor roads are the tinliapplest type
of extravagance. (
When a wagon Is worn out from use
on u good road its owner usually has
money enough to buy a new one.
Good roads suggest action, and mud
means sloth nnd lazUiess.
Some of the winter resorts of the
South are advertising good roads as a
special attraction.
Salt in warm water If used for bath -hg
tired eyes will be found very ra
freshing.