j
H4 1 j. 4j.44j.4.4 -
By
CHAPTER V. (Continued.)
Pauline had not much soul, and she
did not really care much for music as
music; but she liked the pleasant, sooth
ing effect It had upon her. So she went
to the opera two or three times a week,
and In the intervals whispered scandal,
ate Ices, drank coffee, or dozed gracefully
behlud the curtains of her box. This
evening Mrs. Seton and she were scarce
ly settled in their seats before Lord Sum
mers begged admission.
The good-natured old gentleman look
ed rather worried, as he took the chair
behind Pauline and exchanged civilities
with both ladies.
"I have had a visit from Bennoir this
afternoon, Pauline," his lordship began.
"The poor boy is terribly upset by your
refusal."
"He will get over it."
"But, my dear girl, have you no heart
t all? To my knowledge this is the
seventh most satisfactory offer you have
refused. I dare say you have had quite
as many of which I have heard nothing.
I begin to think you are heartless."
"Perhaps you are right," she said, in
differently. "But you must allow there
are two sides to the question. On the
one hand, you ask why I do not marry.
I answer your question by asking, on the
other, 'Why should I marry?' I do not
love these men who propose to me. I
am my own mistress; I have everything
I wish for and I am happy as I am."
"There is the estate, you know, to
think of. The succession lies between
you and your Cousin Ethel, the sweet
faced child I pointed out to you the other
day. If you die unmarried, the estate
will revert to her children at your death.
Of course, there is nothing against that.
But I am sensitive about the trust im
posed on me by my old friend, Sir Paul.
As I read it, his will lays the whole re
sponsibility of this question of succes
sion on my shoulders. In other words,
he leaves me the power to pick and
choose a fitting head for the House of
Mailing. Now, in the event of your not
marrying, the next heir will be the off
spring of this Ethel and her "artist hus
band, Mr. Dornton."
Pauline ( had kept herself well under
control, but she could not avoid an ex
clamation as Lord Summers put this
point before her.
"That Mr. Dornton, to whom you have
been kind, is. engaged to your cousin, you
know. Well, he is a very nice young
man clever, well looking, nice manners
and all that; but I don't think Sir Paul
would have chosen him as the perperua
tor 01 the Mailing family."
"Why not?" The question was put
quickly almost, it seemed, in spite of
herself.
"Well, it seems to me that the question
answers itself. Who is he? What is he?
Whence comes he? Who are his people?
What were his father and grandfather?
Of course he will make an excellent hus
band for poor little Ethel, for he is bound
to come to the front."
"Do you know, whenever you talk of
that child, I fancy you regard me as an
interloper? I am sure your sympathies
re with her."
"Not at all not at all! You are too
sensitive. I am glad to know that
Geoffrey's child is not likely to suffer
hardship. This Dornton seems a manly,
honorable young - fellow, and will take
good rare of that pretty little creature.
I shouLI not like to think that my old
friend's (hughter was fated to spend her
life in copying from the old masters of
the Kensing'on Museum, as she told me
she does now."
It was well for his lordship's opinion
of his ward's disposition that she was
sitting with her face turned toward the
stage during his kindly little speech. He
was a shrewd old man, and, had he seen
.the hatred and malice in her eyes when
he spoke of Ethel, his previous judgment
of her character might have been con
siderably shaken.
The next day Miss Mailing drove to
the Kensington Museum, taking Babette
with her. It was a students' day, and
the visitors made the round of the gal
leries in quietness, Pauline stopping in
apparent interest by the side of every
lady student. At last she found what
he sought She passed on until she
reached a quiet corner, and then beck
oned Babette to her side.
"You see that very young girl In the
gray dress with her holland apron? That
Is the person whose address I want. Keep
her in sight until she leaves; follow her
home, get her address, and then go to
some of the shops close by and find out
her name."
"Mademoiselle does not even know her,
name?" '
"I know her real name, but not the
one she is going by just now. Whatever
you do, don't miss her."
Miss Mailing returned to her carriage,
feeling that she had accomplished a
good afternoon's work.
CHAPTER VI.
"I'll not give wayl If I stay away
one day, I shall want to do It again, and,
then my copy will not be finished."
Ethel uttered this aloud, though she
was alone, evidently with the "idea that
merely hearing the words would, per
haps, strengthen her waning resolution.
Poor child! Her head ached, and her
yes looked quite pathetlo with the heavy
circles round them; but she refused to
pity herself, and resolutely plunged her
head into a bug basla of wattr, robbed
- fr - y - - - rTif - - - - - M -
?
Tjhe ife's Secret,
OR A BITTER RECKONING
CHARLOTTE M. BRAEME
her hair half dry, and started for the
museum.
Though her head still ached a good
deal, the copy made fair progress, and
there was no sign of neglect or hurry In
the work, her throbbing temples notwith
standing. She always wore a hat with a rather
large brim, when copying, to save her
eyes from the light from above, and at
the same time shut out most of the
room and Its occupants from her view,
so that her attention was not so liable
to wander from her work.
She was engaged on a difficult patch
of shadow and she sighed as she realized
i u.erence between her shadow and
that of the old master. At that moment
her father echoed the sigh; and followed
it up by:
"Too solid altogether too solid, my
child!"
"I know it as well as you do, dad,"
she said, plaintively; "but how am I to
alter it?"
"Suppose we leave the shadow for to
day, and go out into, the sunshine for
an hour or two?"
"Now, dad, don't tempt me to desert
the post of duty. If you knew what a
struggle I had with myself before I start
ed this morning, how I longed to stay
at home and 'coddle" Instead of facing
my work like a woman." '
"Leave the painting for a few mo
ments, dear; I want to introduce you to
Captain Pelling. My daughter!"
Ethel plucked off her unbecoming head
gear as she turned to face the unknown
visitor. She was greatly surprised at
the Introduction, her father having kept
her in strict seclusion since she left
school a year before.
"I taught Coptain Pelling the rudi
ments of sketching before ho went on
an expedition to Central Africa three or
four years ago, and he is so delighted
with his own efforts that he wanted to
carry me right away to Wimbledon at
once, to see and praise them."
"That Is scarcely a truthful statement,
Miss Mallett," put in Captain Pelling
with a smile. "I don't want praise, but
judgment. The expedition I went out
with is going to publish the result of our
Investigations, and they want some of my
sketches to illustrate the work. When I
saw Mr. Mallett in Picadilly I thought,
'Here is the man who will tell me hon
estly if I dare to allow them to be pub
lished;' and I pounced upon him. And
now I have obtained two judges in the
place of one. My trap is waiting out
side, and I trust you will let me take you
both down to my little box. My house
keeper will find us something to eat, and
in the cool of the evening we can go
quietly through my little pictures and
arrange them together."
Ethel looked puzzled. Mr. Mallett
could hardly conceal the Surprise he felt
at the adroit manlier in which his late
pupil had managed to include "the child,"
Ethel glanced at her rather worn but
prettily made dove-colored gown and her
bibbed holland apron.
"I am not in presentable order," she
began.
"But you will see no one but the house
keeper and the present company. Show
yourself superior to such considerations,
Miss Mallett. It will be a positive favor
to me, for they are hurrying the prep
arations forward, and I should not like to
be the cause of delaying the publication
of the book.
"Very well; I will come. But papa
will tell you I am of no use in a case of
this sort."
Ethel leaned back In the well-cushioned
phaeton and listened lazily to the
conversation between the two men, her
father sharing the back seat with the
groom.
Captain Felling's horses traveled well,
and, the breeze blowing right in her face
Ethel gradually lost the depressing pain
in her head and began to feel interested
in the places they were passing.
Whn at last the horses stopped at a
tiny cottage, consisting to all appear
ances entirely of bay windows and
creeper covered porch, and looking tinier
still by comparison with the gigantic elm
trees that surrounded it, she had a slight
tinge of pink In her cheeks, and the dark
rings had nearly disappeared from round
her eyes.
A pleasant middle-aged woman came
to the hall door, and Ca'ptain Pelling
handed Ethel over to her at once.
"Give Miss Mallett a cup of especially
good tea, Mrs. Crichton, and make her
lie down until a quarter of an hour be
fore dinner. Above all, don't let her
talk; she has had a bad headache"
Ethel looked at him In mute surprise
"and It will return if she exerts herself
before she dines."
Mr. Mallett looked amused; but the
captain, supremely unconscious of having
said or done anything unusual, led ythe
way through the long, low hall and out "at
a glass door at the end.
"This way, miss;" and Mrs. Crichton
opened the door, through which she was
followed by Ethel.
CIIAPTEH VII.
It was the loveliest room the young
girl had ever seen. The walls were a
subdued stone green, the curtains and
general decorations were of the same
color, artistically touched up here and
there with gold. There was a soft old
looking Persian rug that covered the
whole floor, except a few Inches by the
walls. The floor of the windows were
bare, save for some exquisite specimens
of skins which Ethel did not STsa know
' tho names. Each of these windows ws
tastefully and luxuriously furnished,
There were two very tine paintings on
the walls, aud the whole room was lit
tered most picturesquely with valuable,
curiosities brought home by Captalu
rolling.
Ethel looked round her with a sense
of supreme delight. Mrs. Crichton mis
took the look, aud apologized for the
general untidiness of the room.
"You see, miss, Captain Peling took
the house only three weeks ago. He
don't allow Martha or me to touch his
wonderful curiosities, so I am obliged
to put up with this dreadful state of
things. You will find this couch more
comfortable for a rest than either of
tuose small ones. If you will allow me,
I will throw this light woolen shawl over
your feet. Let nie raise your pillow the
least bit. There" after carefully ar
ranging It, "that is more comfortable. I
will bring the tea in a few minutes.
How good the tea was, and how enjoy
able the great quietness and peace seem
ed to Ethel after the distracting roar
and rattle of the London streets!
Captain Pelling came through the win
dow by-and-by and was surprised to sue
Ethel lying there. He had expected Mrs.
Crichton would tnke her to her own sanc
tum.' He stood irresolute for a moment
just inside the window, and then crossed
the room to look more closely at his
pretty young guest.
"She's as pretty as a picture, and as
good as gold, if I know anything about
physiognomy. She has a trouble of some
sort, poor little child! I should like to
kiss those tears aawy. I 'wonder what
she's worrying about. Perhaps Mallett
Is hard up; he seems a careless soft of a
fellow. I'll see if I can't help them a
bit in that direction, anyway."
. This was a genuine red-letter day for
Ethel. She was so intensely interested
in the Captain's description of his trav
els that for the time she was drawn out
of herself and her own affairs. Mr.
Mallett, too, was heartily pleased. And
Pelling was equally satisfied with his
guests. When the evening was over, he
was surprised to find how well he: had
talked, and he felt convinced that suc
cessful conversation as often depends on
the quality of the listener as of the
talker.
There was not much progress made in
the ostensible purpose of the visit, seeing
that the "little sketches" which turned
out to be rather good specimens of their
class led the way to so much descrip
tion that they looked only at some half
dozen before they came to one that cre
ated a diversion which lasted until they
started for home.
The Captain had been holding forth on
the pluck and fidelity of a native ser
vant at whose portrait they were look
ing, when Ethel said:
"I wonder you did not persuade him to
come to England with you. Your rela
tives would have worshiped him in their
gratitude for having saved your life so
often."
"I have not one relative in the world.
Miss Mallett," answered the Captain
gravely.
Ethel's glance was full of sympathy.
"I beg your pardon," she put in' hast
ily; "I am sorry I made the remark."
"Don't be sorry. I'm very glad. I of
ten long to talk a little about myself.
You can't believe what an awful feeling
it is to know that there is not one per
son in the world who Is sufficiently in
terested in you to. care for your private
concerns."
"Decidedly unpleasant," murmured
Mr. Mallett
"You'll hardly believe, Mallett, that
this is the most, domesticated evening
Pre spent for the last six years. Jolly
hard, when you consider that I am nat
urally fond of home and all that kind of
thing! I was just getting weary of the
loneliness of this place, but your being
here to-night has changed the whole as
pect pf affairs. It looks so homelike to
see you sitting there as if you belonged
to the place, Miss Mallett. To-morrow
night I shall fancy I see you still there,
and be reconciled for a time at least."
"You should marry best recipe In the
world for loneliness!" Mr. Mallett ob
served, laughingly.
'.'Tried it, and round it a failure."
"Eh!" Mr. Mallett sat upright and
stared into his host's face. "I beg your
pardon, Pelling, if I have said anything
unpleasant."
"Not at all in fact, if I shouldn't bore
you so horribly as to prevent your ever
taking compassion on me again, I should
like to tell you about my marriage. Some
times I think it must ail have been a
dream, It seems so unreal."
He sat for a moment gazing absently
into the garden, which was beginning to
look dim and shadowy in the summer
twilight, as if he were calling up the
past from its gloomy depths. Ethel felt
a shiver of superstitious awe pass over
her, and the movement seemed to bring
back the captain from the momentary
reverie into which he had fallen.
(To be continued.)
Those Heartless Creditor.
"No 'I can't afford to work for $3,000
a year."
"Can't! And why not?"
"Because It would be too good a
thing for my creditors. They'd take it
all away from me." Cleveland Plain
Dealer.
' Verdict of Jndire Lynch.
'low did the trial of the alleged
horse thief end?" asked the stranger
from the effete east
"Oh, in the usual manner," replied
the landlord of the Arizona village
inn. "The defendant was left in sus
pense." In Hard Luck.
Th Judge Have you anything to
offer the court before sentence is pass
ed on you?
The Prisoner No, your honor; I
had $18, but my lawyer appropriated
It
ORES
Whenever a sore or ulcer does not heal, no matter on what part of the
body it may be, it is because of a poisoned condition of the blood. This
!oison may be the remains of some constitutional trouble ; the effect of a
ong spell of sickness, which has left this vital stream polluted and weak,
or because the natural refuse matter of the body, which should pass off
through the channels of nature, has been left in the system and absorbed
into the circulation. It does not matter how the poison became Intrenched
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infection. As it lingers, slowly eating deeper into the surrounding flesh, the
sufferer grows morbidly anxious, fearing it may be cancerous. Some
ot tnose alluded witu an old sore or
ulcer know how useless it is to ex
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tions and other external treatment.
Through the use of these they have
Been the place begin to heal and scab
over, and were congratulating them
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be as bad or worse than before.. Sores
side causes ; if they were, external treatment would cure them. They are
kept open because the blood is steeped in poison, which finds an outlet
through these places. While young people, and even children, sometimes
suffer with non-healing sores, those most usually afflicted are persons past
middle life. Often, with them, a wart or mole on the face inflames and be
gins to ulcerate from a little rough handling ; or a deep, offensive ulcer de
velops from a slight cut or bruise. Their vital energies and powers of re
sistance have grown less, and circulation weaker, and Berhans some taint in
the blood, which was held in check by
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Many tropical trees when the bark Is
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ifii
THAT DO
NOT HEAL
I hay had a orlppled foot all my lite,
which compelled me to use a braoe. By
ome nnaocountaDia xneana thla braes
oaueed a bud Uloer on my lea-, about all
years airo. I had rood medioal atten
tion, but the Uloer sot worse. I wae in
duoed to try 8. S. B., and am el ad to say
It cured me entirely, and lam oonvinoei
that it aaved my leg for me. I have,
therefore, great faith in 8. S. S, ana
ITladly reooinmend it to all needing a,
reliable blood medicine.
Bristol, Va.-Tenn. W. J. GATE.
discharge to return and the sore would
that do not heal are not due to out.
their stronger constitutions of early
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readily, because the same germ that
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There is only one way to cure these old
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SPECIFIC CO.. ATLANTA. GA.
Prophesied Teddy's Greatness.
More entertaining, perhaps, and
equally interesting, are the anecdotes
which are told about our President by
the Mlnkwltz family. Frau Fischer
distinctly recollects that once slio
prophesied the future greatness of
young Teddy. She says: "One day I
had a conversation with Mrs. Roose
velt, who said to me, 'I wonder what
Is going to become of my Teddy?' I
replied, 'You need not be anxious
about hlra. He will surely be one day
a great professor, or, who knows, ho
may become even President of the
United States.' Mrs; Roosevelt re
buked me. She said such a thing was
impossible, and asked bow I coudd
have struck upon such an absurdity.
But, perhaps on account of my impul
sive remark, I have since continually
watched Theodore Roosevelt's career,
and have always been glad when he
has made a step forward in the
world." From "Roosevelt's German
Days," In Success Magazine.
Provided a woman be well-principled,
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