DOOMED. I
By WILLARD
CHAPTER XII.
As soon as Stafford had completed hit
task, he summoned one of the servants to
how him to Mr. Wylie's apartment He
waa moat eager to learn what hla visit
boded. Mr. Wylie waa discussing an ex
cellent cold collation. The evening waa
drawing In fast but although the weather
waa very warm, a bright fire biased upon
the broad hearth.
"Ah, here you are, Mr. Stafford !" cried
Wylle. "Surprised to see me here, no
doubt Very seldom I get way so far
irma own ; inaeea, l may say, mat sine
I entered my profession, I have never
been so far away before. Our buainess
Is so very confining so unlike yours.
Very delightful to be able to roam about
all the lovely spota of the earth,' and. to
combine profit with pleasure."
Here Stafford's Impatience broke
through all bounds. "Excuse my inter
rupting you, but you told me In the pic
ture gallery that you desired to apeak
with me on very Important matters. May
I Inquire what those matters are?" Un
able to hold back the thought that lay
upon his lips, he blurted out, "Do,, you
lenow anything about that picture In the
gallery, Mr. Wylle?"
"Which picture?" Isjalr'd Mr. Wylle.
' "The one of Circe."
"No; I told you so before. But you
evidently know something of it, or want
to know something of It" Mr. Wylle had
'been asked the very question he had been
fishing for.
"Who, I?" stammered Stafford, who
could have now bitten his tongue for giv
ing utterance to his blundering impa
tience. He knew sufficient of the family
Affairs to be aware that Mr. Wylie was
no friend to the Griersona; and he had,
"by hla Indiscretion, aroused in htm suspi
cions of a 'mystery which might hereafter
work mischief to Constance. "I was only
thinking of the strange resemblance It
bore to Miss Grierson." 1
"Very strange, and to like that, one
might be almost tempted to tuppote thai
the tat for it," answered Mr. Wylle, with
narked emphasis. "And now to busi
ness ; for I can " perceive that you are
growing very impatient I have come
down here to consult with Sir Launce
about his son's marriage with my ward.
Now, Mr. Stafford, I know that there
have been certain love passages between
you and that lady. Suppose, instead of
her marrying Arthur Penrhyddyn, I could
" ao bring matters about that she should
tnarry Edward Stafford Instead?"
"I do not understand you," said Staf
ford, bewildered.
v "The explanation la simple enough," an
swered Wylle, In the same sharp, decisive
tones. "First, answer me honestly and
honorably, without disguise, a It Miss
Constance Grierson you are in iove with,
or the heiress?"
."I do not consider myself at liberty to
answer such a question," replied Stafford.
"Ah, then, it is the fortune, and not the
lady I" sneered Mr. Wylie.
"How dare. you speak such words to
me?" cried Stafford, starting up, hot
with passion. "Miss Grierson would be
the same to me were she penniless."
"That la exactly what I want to get
' at" cried Mr. Wylie, rubbing hla hands
at the success of his ruse. "Then you
would be equally ready to marry her with
or without her fortune? We will take
that for granted. Now, aa you are, doubt
less, aware, were Constance to become
your wife, she would forfeit her entire
fortune, with the exception of a small an
nuity; but aa you are indifferent to the
money, and only want the girl, that would
not matter to you. Get her Into the same
way of thinking, and I will aasist you
to the utmost to forward the match, and
give you a couple of thousands to start
housekeeping. Aa to my motive in mak
ing this proposition, that is not your con
cern. Do not answer now; think over
what I have said, and give me your reply
In the mornlngN"
But Stafford, who -had sat motionless
during this last speech, now rose from
his chair, and gave way to the Indignation
' that was boiling within him; and In a
buret of passion that positively electri
fied Mr. Wylle, refused to be a party to
(he bargain proposed. '
"If I cannot win her without fraud and
treachery without assisting ner enemlea
to rob her of her fortune, let me never
look upon her face again ; and should you
ever again dare to hint such a proposi
tion to me, I will chastise you upon the
. in ,
pun j v
So saying he strode out of the room,
lamming the door behind him.
Mr. Wylie had encountered two aston-
ishing phenomena that day a servant
who refused a bribe, and a lover who re
fused to marry for a scruple of conscience.
In all his experience he iad never en
countered the like. . He felt Inclined to
exclaim with Hamlet "la doomsday
near?" He had committed two serious
errors shown his cards to two persons
who had refused to play his game. But
he trusted to the fertile resources of his
scheming brain to. quickly redeem these
mistakes.
"As to that idiot, Stafford," he mut
tered to himself, "he may change his
mind by the morning. Still, I am sorry
that he knows so much. What Is this
utory about Eleonora de Solssons? Some
treat Importance to such things in these
barbarous places. One can never know
too much. How cam the picture of a
D SoIsmbs here? What a Strang re
MacKENZIE
semblance, tool There's a mystery here
that I must fathom." Thus, with the red
firellrht elowlnr nnnn hla tr. unit tfia
dark Shadows of tha nfirhf r.ati0r4l rrninll
him, did ha alt planning and revolving
new scnemes and combinations. ,
CHAPTER XIII.
Edward Stafford did not leave Penr
hyddyn on the morning after hla inter
view with Mr. Wylie, as he had arranged
to do. Harassed by anxious doubts and
fears, he had lain awake until daybreak;
then, worn out with mental fatigue, he
fell into a deep slumber, from which he
did not awake until an hour after the
time of the train starting. Upon reflec
tion, he did not regret the circumstance.
His Immediate presence In London could
effect nothing; he might be better em
ployed In keeping an eye upon Mr. Wy
lie's motions.
Sir Launce was surprised to see the
guest whom he had -taken leave of the
night before, and whom he thought was
by this time whirling along the iron road
to London, enter the library next morn
ing. "Sir Launce," aaid Stafford, "I ' am
about to 'trespass upon your .hospitality
for another diy er to."
"If you are at leisure for a moment
Mr. Stafford, there is a subject upon
which I would speak to you. Pray be
seated."
Stafford took a chair, wondering what
was coming.
"You are, no doubt, aware of the pro
posed alliance Cetween Arthur and Miss
Constance Grierson. Perhaps you know
the lady?"
"Very well," answered the artist; "I
painted her portrait, and gave her some
instructions in water color painting."
"And la the very high praise I have
heard of her deserved?"
"It would be Impossible, sir, to praise
her beyond her deserts," answered Staf
ford, warmly. . 1
"To the young lady I can form no pos
sible objection. I would tnat I could
say aa much for her family more partic
ularly of that member who is at present
honoring me with a visit Have you ever
met him before?"
"Once or twice during my visits to
Harley street The man is an unscrupu
lous schemer; be on your juard against
him."
"You have expressed my own' opinion,
Mr. Stafford. I am on my guard ; and be
fore I permit the matter to proceed any
further, I shall make a Journey to Lou
don. I am but half reconciled to an
union that would ally me to such a man."
Just then a servant entered with the
letter bag.
"Where Is Daniel this morning?" in
quired Sir Launce.
"He had an attack of rheumatia In the
night and couldn't get out of bed this
morning," answered the man.
"Poor Daniel I I must go to see him.
Who went for the letters this morning?"
"His grandson, Jim Starkie,. Sir
Launce," replied the man, hesitatingly.
"And why was that careless boy sent
upon such an errand? See here! There
Is a cut in the bag, quite large enough to
allow of a letter passing through," ex
claimed Sir Launce, who had been empty
ing It ef Its contents,; "and the letters
are crumpled and battesed. ' Here is one
for you, Mr. Stafford. Send Jim Starkie
to me. Immediately.
In a few moments a shock-headed, mis
chievous looking boy, dressed in a fisher
man's blue guernsey, sidled into the room,
With a most guilty expression of face.
, "What haye you been doing with this
bag? It Is cut and probably some of the
letters lost" said Sir Launce. "You
have knocked It about in some way. Run
back all the way you came, and look
well over the ground. If a letter has
been dropped, I have no doubt you will
find it"
(In the meantime,' Stafford had read his
epistle with the most delightful feeling of
satisfaction. It was from Constance;
and although It was the briefest, It waa
the pleasantest he had yet received from
her. It ran thus:
"All is broken off between me and Ar
thur Penrhyddyn. I told Mm that my
heart 'waa already engaged; and In the
most noble manner he at once relinquish
ed his suit '
"Youra ever,
"CONSTANCE."
' "God bless him ior.a noble, generous
fellow I" murmured Stafford ; "and if ever
I can repay him by any sacrifice In the
world, I will do it!"
Mr. Wylle had risen at sunrise that
morning. He walked down the narrow
footpath, beneath the foliage of the dwarf
oak and beech, through which glanced
the red sunbeams. He passed into the
village, and thence down upon the rocky
coast As he returned he thought that
he would wait for the arrival of the mall
before going back to breakfast So he
called In at the poatoffice.
Presently the mall cart drove up with
Its epistolary burden. There were several
letters for hint, among others were one
from his wife, and one from Fig, the con
fidential clerk, which he attended to first
Jim Starkie soon overtook Mr. Wylle,
and strode along, whistling, and swinging
the letter bag from aide to fide. The pace
at which that gentleman was walking
kept a little In the rear of the boy the
whole way through the walk. .
Master Jim indulged In various eccen
tricities during hla progress, such as toss
ing the bag up in the air and catching
it whirling it round bis bead by the
string, and knocking it against the trunka
of the trees. ' When about half way up
the path that led to the Castle, spying
a bird upon one of the lower branches
of a tree, he gathered up the unfortunate
bag into a ball, and hurled it at the bird.
The bag lodged upon a branch just above
hla reach, and obliged him to climb the
tree to recover It which he only achieved
by much stretching and pulling. After
this, he performed the rest of his walk
somewhat more aedately.
Mr. Wylie had been a witness of all
this. As he reached the top of the path
he caught sight of something white upon
the pathway. It waa a letter. He. pick
ed it up and read the address: "Sir
Launce Penrhyddyn, Penrhyddyn Castle,
near Bodmin, Cornwall.
That waa dropped out of the bag,"
he muttered, turning It over. "I wonder for his wife and children and every
who It is from? What la this A. P.' in one connected with that home. It
the corner? That is Arthur Penrhyddyn ; meant alteration of habits, association
and In the further corner. Immediate.' and enTlponnient
I wonder, now, what that letter con- . . . ...
tains?" And Mr. Wylie scanned it with ' M that 7M CM detect '
his lynx eye.' He put the letter In hla chr,rtIan botae almost soon aa you
pocket and walked alowly towarda the nter ltT May It not be that the Chrls
Castle, in deep thought j ttan lives, the Christian customs, the
Two hours afterwards, ha again issued Christian conversation of the oecu
from the Castle to 'take aoother stroll, pants give to It a sort of sacred atmos
Down among the rocks he came upon a phere? A man told me once that a re
lonely fi.herman hut At the door, bask- buke whlch he cou,d f t njM
ing in the warm sunshine, was an aged t . .. , . , ,
man, over whose withered face was apread from tha U f hl fath"'
a network of wrinkles. There was a wild, ' wno- uPn entering the new-made
half-Insane look In his eyes, aa he sat I bome, said : "My son, thla house Is
vacantly staring at the waves, and mut
tering to himself. r
Mr. Wylie regarded him for a moment
mentally observing to himself, "Here is
an old seer, now, who must know plenty
about Penrhyddyn, if he has got the
brains left to tell It We'll see."
So, by way of a beginning, he wished
the old man good-day and found him
quite Inclined to talk. By and by a hale
looking man, about sixty, and another of
about forty, who saluted the old man re
spectfully as father and grandfather,
came up and touched their sou'-westers to
the gentlemen, and then they fell into
the conversation.
After about an hour and a half spent
thus, during which he sucked the three
men dry of all the information they could
give, Mr. Wylie put half a sovereign Into
the grandfather's hand and wished them
all good afternoon.
"Rather fortunate I came this way,"
he muttered to hlmsel faa he walked
back. "So, Master Daniel, I've learned
a great deal more than I should have
bargained with you for, and 'or just ten
shillings less than I offered you. A very
strange story that It almost makes one
believe that curses may be realized at
leaat there la every probability that this
one will. Psha 1 absurd ! A mere coinci
dence." Early next morning Mr. Wylie sent a
servant to Bodmin for a chaise to convey
him to' the Btation ; and when it arrived,
took his departure. But before taking his
way to the station he desired the coach
man to drive him over different parts of
the estate, especially where the mines
were situated. "I will take a survey of
my property that is to be before I leave,"
ho said to himself.
Stafford remained Sir Launce'a guest
Constance's letter he regarded aa having
removed those scruples of honor Which
had at first determined, him to leave the
Castle ; It had also removed the necessity
of his immediate return to town.
He did not give Sir Launce the slight
est intimation of the contents of the let
ter he had received. "Of course Arthur
himself will Immediately acquaint his
father with the state of affairs. Strange
he has not done so before !" he thought
Sir Launce wondered greatly when an
other day passed away without bringing
a letter from his son. He had written
to him, however, on the previous evening.
A reply to that letter must arrive by the
morning mail.
(To be continued.) .
j
Where Mahogany Grows.
The tree which produces that beauti
ful and well-known wood, mahogany, la
one of the most elegant, if not the
largest, of the country In which It Is
found, and frequently grows In the
crevices of rocks. The appearance of
so large a vegetable production In such
a situation Is extremely curious and
picturesque, and It Is to be accounted
for. from the construction of the seed,
which Is like that of the thistle, winged,
or capable of being blown along by the
action of the air and In that manner
deposited In holes and fissures In the
rocks, where It speedily vegetates and
springs up. As long as the plant re
mains young the place In which It Is
found Is sufficiently large for, Its
growth, but as It Increnses In' size the
roots gradually but Irresistibly force
asunder the walls of their rocky pris
ons and throw off large portions of
stone. '
It Is not always, however, found In
these situations, the largest timber be
ing produced In some of the flat and
marshy spots on the const of America.
Such Is (the Honduras mahogany,
which Is much looser In texture and of
less value than that from the moun
tainous districts of Cuba and HaytL
Dust Protector.
Gunner That Is a very polite porter
they have on thla train.
Guyer So? '.
Gunner Yes .before he begins to
brush you down be hands you a pair of
automobile goggles. '
Out of the Ordinary.
' Oyer Hlgglns Is a remarkable man.
Myer In what way?
'Oyer Why, be can wait at the tele
phone without making pencil marks oa
the desk pad.
CHARACTER BUILDING.
By Rev. William 0. Stimson.
To-day I must abide at thy house.
Luke 10: 5.
When Christ entered the home of
Zaecheus the publican. It meant not
only' a changed life for Zaecheus, but
beautiful, but I see nothing here to In
dlcate distinctively that It la a Chris
tian toome." '
The lowest conception of home Is to
speak of It as a place where man's ma
terial wants are satisfied. We can ob
tain this satisfaction In a hotel. A
limn living lu one room lu a hole! or
boarding-house seems like a grapevine
in a flowerpot, movable, shifted from
place to place, docked at the root and
short at the top. No doubt it la an
mevuaoie condition to which many
people must submit, but this "cabined,
cribbed, confined" home life of the cities
Is minuting against the best interests
of the family Institution.
Whatever the material shape or ac
commodations of the home, It should be
rne piace wnere Hearts ana lives are
united In loving compact The home
has been called "the Institute of the
affections." Where does the home be
gin? At the marriage altar. When
should a home begin? When the
hearts and lives of a man and a worn
an feel that each Is made for the other
and can enter the marriage relations
Intelligently, resolutely, hopefully, with
the spirit of bear and forbear, deeply
mindful of all the' legitimate conse
quences of such a relation. '
Blessed Is the home that Is estab
nsnea on tne oasis or love, and no
home can be a home, however attrac
tive or comfortable or abundant its ma
terial environment where love Is not
the regnant principle, the unifying
bond.
There la no other educative agency
comparable to the home. The parent Is
both teacher and priest The father and
mother there make vows for the child.
The child, knowing the love, the care,
the compassion, the wisdom of the fath
er on earth, soon passes Into larger
knowledge of the heart and character
of the great father In Heaven. Human
fatherhood Is a divine trust
An eminent business man recently
said that If he bad bis life to live over
again he would perhaps accumulate
less wealth, but he would spend more
time at home with his sons, so that the
relations between them might be more
intimate and that he might determine
In them as none others can, the great
Issues of character.
What a child between the years of
7 and 17 learns from the parents, and
especially from the mother, of duty,
honor, love, sympathy, obedience, can
never be wholly misplaced or lost
Ob, for the home of the Bible, the
family attar, the blessing at the meal,
the sacred song, the home that Is Join
ed hard to the church! Such homes
are the true domestic commonwealths.
From such republics . have come the
men and women into the larger repub
lic, winning honor In every sphere of
life, devoting time, strength and mon
ey to the service of God and their fel
low men.
LIFE'S SPRINGTIDE.
' ' By Henry T. Cope.
Who satlsfleth thy mouth with good
things so that thy youth Is renewed
like the eagle. Pa. 103 : 8.
Everywhere the leaves break forth In
obedience to the calf of spring. Every
where the bird song starts again; ev
erywhere the flowers come out Into the
sunshine. There Is no rebellion, no an
archy here. - All nature Is In tune. Out
of the depths of the past springs the
life of the present. Slowly, Impercep
tibly, all nature develops, because there
Is life. There Is a new life. Each
springtide marks a tide a little higher
than the one before.
Is there anything In man's higher,
moral life that corresponds to this?
Can. It be that while all nature Is In
tune with the Infinite, singing his
praises, and finding new life, man
alone Is out of harmony? As truly as
there Is a tide when life springs up
ward In the woods and fields, so truly
Is there a tide that reaches the depths
of a man's life. ,
The years of youth return to nona :
the elasticity goes forever from tbe
step; and. yet man may renew his
youth ; his finer self may come under'
the power of the returning tide of life.
There Is a springtide for the heart So
long as hope and faith remain there is
always the possibility of new . begin
nings, the shedding of old leaves, the
breaking Into new beauties of soul and
of deed. .
If there were no new beginnings how
drear the prospect of living. Though
we may have long ago given up the
possibility of finding the fountain of
eternal youth, that hope was but the'
outer evidence of an eternal, inner fact
There Is a fountain of .eternal youth
for the heart The bead may become
frosty,' but the sun shines warm one
again; new hopes1 spring up, new and
better ideals are born, wherever there '
la a heart turning toward love and
light
Is there anything more desolate than
the life that seems to have settled
down to perpetual winter? With some
It comes before the days of youth are
ended. The cynical spirit the world
worn attitude, or the heart crushed by
moral failure and seeming dead to all
hope, lie burled beneath the snows of
despair.
Yet there may come, through the
wonderful awakening to the fact of the
everlasting, all Inclusive love, through
the vision of the brooding hope and
longing for new life that beats In the
heart of the most high for us all, Jhere
may come tne Deginning or new lire,
the bursting Of the bonds of the old
lethargy and the dawn of a new year
for even the dreariest lives.
Hope lr the only measure of age.
Your years are many as your Ideals
and aspirations are few. The forward,
upward look, the anticipation of better
things farther on, the determination,
despite past failures and wanderings.
to find the best, to begin again, give
promise of life renewed. Lift up your
heart To have fallen once Is not, must
not be, the end. Begin again. Infinite
love Is on your aide.
Sitting In the days of gloom, never
believe that there are no others. Enow
that the love that makes a world so
fair never meant that our hearts should '
be forever desolate. Life's winter may
be long; but In the wonder of the
springtide that follows all Its weari
ness shall be forgotten. Joy waits for
all who look up and go forward. God
Is over all; he who brings again the
glory to nature will restore your life.
TAINTED WEALTH IS POVEBTY.
By Dr. Polemus H. Swift.
Many a man thinks that be la adding
to his Inheritance when be is making
himself poorer day by day. True, rich
es consist not In what we have but In
what we are, and no man can commit a
wrong without wronging himself more
than he wrongs anyone else. He who
adds to his property by falsehood, trick
ery and dishonest methods has made
himself infinitely poorer than be was
before, no matter what may be the re
sult of his speculation. It Is a good
thing to get property If It Is got hon
estly, but to get property at the ex
pense of manhood, Integrity, a good
name, self-respect, a blunted conscience
and a blighted moral nature Is the
worst thing a man can do. No man
can do a wrong without wronging him
self more than he wrongs anyone else.
A dishonest deed will mar the beauty
of an honorable name, and rvhen once
the Inheritance has been marred It is
well-nigh Impossible to restore the gem
to Its former brilliancy.
EVTL IN HASTY JUDGMENT.
By Bishop Fallows.
This Is the short, sharp, Imperative
command of the one absolute teacher
of truth and righteousness. It Is a
positive forbidding of a harsh, censor
ious, uncharitable opinion of another
and of Its expression In word or deed.
It has been aald with a great show of
truth that men have not only many' of
the physical features of their lower re
lations In their own faces but also their
evil characteristics. It Is a sure sign
of the lurking or open depravity of hu
man nature. 'Especially in Judging
of men In public life everything should
be weighed. Broken hearts, unjustly
ruined reputations and the unwilling
ness of good men to serve In official
life would then be far less frequent
than now.
Short Meter Sermons.
Honest methods wait for honest men.
v. Trials are to build us, not to break
us.
The truly strong never Ignore th
weak.
The man who dare not fall la rax
to do It
Heaven sees our gifts la the light of
our gains.
The full hand oftent goes with the
empty heart
It la not far from winking at sin to
working for It
The flame of lust quenches the pur
light of love. ' .
Valth for tha fiifnita la Hi. mM..
- - - mw uuujiu)
hope of man.
If you really have the light of the,
world In your heart every one will get, i
some of your sunshine.