HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Exeter Times, 1891-8-6, Page 3•
T1
S, HUMAN ASD DIVINE.
UV R. L. F.iliR,I1f!.tON,
Author of "Oreat Forcer Square," "The 14lystety of M. Foix,.,°' "Bread and
Cheese and Kisses," Etc., Etca,
The First bink—Supplied by Mr. Millington, of Shepherd's Bush
"Yore spoke e tr
u1^ when you said
that
some people are apt to judge harshly,
I am
afraid that is the ease with the servants
here."
" But they have not heard what Honoria
has to say !"
" If they did," I said, with gentle firm-
ness, "it" is not unlikely she would be dis-
believed." I did not 'add that. it -would
harden them even more against her ; it was
the last of my wishes to give pain to the
tender-hearted lady.
With the same abrupt decision I had al-
ready noticed in her manner Miss Haldane
said.
":lir I►iillangton, Honoria must be
found.',
" Poor $ororia-poor Uonoria l Title's
of the terrible night before ber ! livery
house shut against her ! Bveryone she meets
turning from her 1 0, air. Millington, if I
had been a poor girl it might have happened
me'."
"Never," 1 thought, but I held my tongue.
She took a purse from her pocket, and
emptied it into m hands. There were six
soverei'nis and a few pieces of silver,
"I shia11 never be able to repay you," she
said, "if you will find Honoria, and give
her thio, with my love and pity. You are
a father, and will be tender to her. See'
that she has shelter to night, and counsel';
her who to do will not
t to rrcrrow. If she
Come tp Me, ask her if 1 may come to her ;
and if she will not, beg her to write to me,
and say that I will always, always be her
friend,"
$he entrusted me with many more sweet
menages of a s]ntilarnature, and I promised
to do ray hest to carry out her wishes.
There to something else, air. Millington.
Go to Mrs, Poem -in themorniag, and ricer.
Iain what value she places upon the brooch
and earrings which the tramp stole from her
with the other things. Pay her whatever
elle asks, and t will give you the money. I
will not have Honoria's name coupled with
any accusation of that kind, though I
know the charge is false."
"I will do everything," I said, "in the
way you wish it done."
"I am truly beholden to you," she said,
shaking hands with tuc.
And so I bade her good night, and went
to find. Honoria.
CHAPTER Vf.
I pr. seeded in the direction of the village,
not because t expected to And Honoria
there, but it was likely I should be able to
extract information from someone who saw
her after she left the Hall. It was necessary
that I should be careful in my inquiries, far
the sake of the poor girl, and to ensure
auccess in the task upon whreb I was engag-
ed ; neither ilia I wish it to reach the ears
of Mr. Madam that I was meddling in
village affairs. But I learned nothing. aTot
one of the persons to whom I spoke had seen
anything of Honoria, and I found myself ata
standstill. In a discontented mood I re.
traced my eteps to the park, and wandered
throe& the dark spaces, carefully scrutinis-
ing auffilsely spot in which Honoria might
have sought refugee for the night. I met
with no success, however, and was debating
where to proceed when I thought of Chud-
leigh Woods. Fora stranger like myself to
go there and search for a girl whose long
residence in Chudleigh must have made its
intricacies familiar to her was a forlorn hope,
but it was the only hope thatre rained, anal
turnedzltyface to therustiebridgewhiehspau-
ned tho lake of lilies. Having crossed this
bridge I paused to decide which direction to
take, to the right or to the lefty Either
way I was confronted with a tangle of trees
which seemed to mock my efforts, Idly
standing for a few moments on the edge of
the lake I pushed fhb stout walking stick I
always carried with me into the water, to
sound its depths. I could not touch tho
bottom, and I shuddered as I reflected that
it was deep enough to end the woes of any
rash and despairing mortal. One plunge
upon such a night as this, and the wretched
life was "over. Did the quiet surface upon
which I gazed hide a tragedy soawful? Com-
mon enough in human records was such an
ending of folly and sinful temptation.
Before I had determinad on my course
my attention was attracted by a red glow
in mid air at the other end of the bridge.
A man was there, walking towards me, and
the glow came from a cigar he was smok-
ing. As he approached me I observed that
he was in evening dress, but the night was
too dark for me to sec his face clearly. By
his springy steps I judged bim to be young,
and there was a noticeable freedom, not to
say insolence, in his movements which im-
pressed me strongly. His appearance in
evening dress, in a spot so secluded aroused
my curiosity. Ue was a gentleman—I azo
setting down the conclusions I formed as he
traversed the bridge—and came from the
Hall. Certainly for no idle purpose ; there
were pleasanter places in the park in which
he could have smoked without interrup-
tion. Why,' then, had he. chosen these
lonely woods in which ;,o puff his cigar ? I
know the flavour of a good cigar, and his
was an exceptionally fine one, which only
a gentleman could afford to smoke. It was
perhaps bbcause I was in search: of a clue
that I associated this gentleman with
Honoria. I was ready to catch at any straw
that presented itself, and I caught at this,
and determined to watch his proceedings.
Whether' I was right or wrong it could do
no harm.
I kept myself well in shadow, end when,
• eying crossed the bridge he turned,, with.
e t hesitation, to the left I followed him so
e
ietly that. I was safe from deteotien. It
generally easy
to tell whether a man
As
walking aimlessly or with a distinct goal in
view ; the manner of the gentleman 1 was
following indicated the latter, and the result
proved it to be se. We had gone about five
hundred. yards, when he paused before a
rough bench which had been set up in . the
forest. Upon this bench sat a woman, who
raised her head. ",at his approach. - Otherwise
she did not move or speak till he addressed
•• her. The woman was Honoria, -
They .gazed at each other in silence a
While ; a frightened, piteous 'expression oli
her.faco—a scornful, pitiless expression on
his.
a Well," he said, " you are here."
Yes:"
"Been waiting. long?"
•,' Yes."
" Ah I Now perhaps yon will tell me
what the devil brought you back to the vile
loge 7"
" You know l"
" I don't know. Come, out with it ! You
will do yourself ne good by prevaricating."
"I •Wanted to see you.
"In the name of all that's wonderful,
wt, at for?"
ta
to
u now
s
1 .
"I don't know,"
" You do." In maintaining her point she
exhibited no defiance. Itwas a simple and
helpless iteration of the truth.
"All right ;1 do know. Gaal night.":
"Austin 1"
" Weil ?"
But Honor's, wbethc.' from weakness of
character or sheer despair, did not answer
him. She was thoroughly cowed and beaten
own, and all silo could do was to silently
elasp her hands and with mournful eyes ap.
peal to him for mercy. He had turned to
leave her, but he thon_aht better of it, and
now once more heconftanted her.
"How did you ascertain I was Isere?"
" I guessed you would be. Last year be.
fore I—" She paused.
Go on. Before you— °'
"Went away, there was a talk of a .cele-
bration of this birthday. 1 came upon
ebauee."
" A devilish unlucky chance. • Yon had
better have remained where you were."
"1 could not."
"" Why V"
"I was turned out of my lodgings. I had 1
no money to pay the rent."
A likely story. How did you get here?"
" I walked."
"All the way?"
"A11 the way."
" Yau meet have enjoyed yourself."
Het" vas so utterly heartless that I could
have struck him ; but to carry out bliss
IHaldane's merciful intention it was imper.
glee' should keep myself from the obser.
vation of this gentleman
"Give me your attention." he said
presently, " You ought to know me pretty
well by this time, and if you think you can
turn me from • any purpose I have formed
you will find out your mistake. I told yon
in Loudon that I was tired of you, and in-
tended to have nothing mare to do with
you. Yon don't dispute, I suppose."
" don't dispute it. You told inc so ;
but what ism I to do ?"
" Ideal care what you do. The world is'.
before you."
" Austin." she said, with some poor show
of spirit, " whim you Leek me from the
village---"
" Ile careful in what you say. It was
your own choice,"
"God help me, it was 1 But 'believed in
your promises."
"Mare fool you 1 Iahould ha rebeen asgrent
a fool as yourself if I had believed in your
protestations. We were both playing our
own game. You wanted to go to London. I
took you there, and a pretty penny you cost
uta"
''Yon promised to marry' me."
""0. yes, the usual cry I"
"You promised solemnly, and I believed
you. How should I have finessed you were
deceiving me?"
" I?an'teek me conundrums, I made no
promise to you that I have not fulfilled. As
for marrying, you must be mad. You have
no elaim upon mo, and I will take precious
good care thatyou dont annoy me. There's
the law, my lady. ; if you don't mind you
will got into its clutches."
" Mat have I clone to deserve it?"
" Whtat have you done ? Why, the whole
v.11ugo is ringing with it. If I lied suspect -
ad yon were a thief—"
"Austin," she cried, interrupting him,
you don't, you ean't believe it i"
" I do believe it, and so does every one.
Let ns put this thing straight, my ;girl; I
should like yon to understand it olearly, so
that you may not get yousolf into trouble.
You ran away from the village—don't inter-
rupt me again, please. You are not the
only young woman who has run away from
a village, and you won't be the last. On
the night yon disappeared the woman you
were living with was robbed of somearticlea
of jewellery. You are liable at any mo.
ment to be taken up en that charge, and
clapped into , rieon. I don't want to move
in the matter unless you force me to it."
" All you want," said Honoria, mourn-
fully, "is to get rid of me."
"Exactly. 'The little comedy iu which
you and I played the principal parts is
finished. It wasn't by any moans an origi-
nal comedy : the world knows it by heart.
The curtain fell and 1 bade you good-bye,
and left you twenty pounds to start afresh
with. If you didn't make good use of the
money, that is your business, not mine, and
I dont intend to make it mine. Pm not a
sponge."
s of hershame was 1
story ans a no longer a t
rYo ge Secret,
The Chances were, in her state of mind, that
she would repulse me and: fly from me : and
even if I succeeded in detaining her she
would look upon me with suspicion and,
roger(' me as an .enemy instead as a friend.
My purpose was to win herconfidence, and
title would scarcely be possible if I showed
that I was fully acquainted with her sad
position. Therefore, I determined' to wait
patiently until she removed from the spot,
and afforded ins a more favourable oppor
Utility of introducing myself.
For quitedid 0
a quarter of anhour she not
4
move fom her seats I was prepared for au
exhibition of grief and despair, but not a
sound escaped her. She sat perfectly still,
with her hands clamped before her, hareems -
Per thatonewhose nand was a ban
tla of and blank.
Some light sound from bird or animal arous,
ed her. With a frightened, look her nerves
being in the coitdition to construe threaten-
ingly any indication of life that reached her
senses, she rose to her feet, and, as though
sae had been ordered front the spot by a
voice of authority, moved away. In whieh
direction? That of the rustic bridge which
'spanned the lake. That led to the park?
Ie'rom the park there was a road to the rail-
way station, from which a train for London
would have at twelve o'clock. I looked at
my watch ; it wasaquarter to eleven. There
was plenty of time for Honoria to get to the
station in time to eaten foie last train. Per,
haps that was her intention, her errand to
Chudleigb baring failed. Then I thought
that Miss Haldane had told meUonoriawas
penniless, but, after all, that might not be
the case. Doubtless she bad money enough
to take her to London, and if she ]tad not, I
could supply nor with mere than wasueedfni.
I itied is a girl sinecrely, andhcartilydespie,
ed her betrayer, but I had not made up my
mind as to her character. I followed her
noiselessly to the lake, determined to wait
till she was near the station before I accost.
ed her.
At the lake site pansed in thought for so
long a time that I began to get anxious.
Once she turned her head hurriedly in my
direction, and it was May 1•y a rapid and
silent movement that I eseepeel being seen
by her. : hen she walked slowly on to the
bridge, and wilco ahe reached the centre,
paused again, and looked overiuto the lake.
It was at this point that the water was
deepest. There was now a. light its the sky,
and I saw distinetly every movement she
made. fittit.g (lawn upon the floor of the
wooden bridge she took from her po:ket an
envelope, and f -am that a abeet of note-
paper, upon which she wrote some swords.
Replacing the sheet of paper in the envelope
she returned it to her pocket, and then,
with a sudden and quick motion she stand
upright. Tho decision and rapidity of this
movement inspired hue with the fes:
that
she wase about to commit suicide. This
indeed was her iutentiou. Flinging up her
arms she stoo 1 for a moment in suspense,
with the light shining upon her, and before
she could carry her desPerate purpose into
execution she was struggling in my arms.
CHAPTER VII.
«Let the go, Iet ins goI" site cried.
",r
..
In a momenta' I said soothingly lot
n , s.
ur get off this bridge first ; it is unsafe."
Recognising that silo was powerless she
allowed me to lead her across. After her
first protest she said nothing marc while I
kept my hold on her. Beset by fears, sur-
rounded by enemies, she must have put the
worst construction upon my unexpected
appearance. I did all I could by kind and.
assuring words to sot her mind at ease with
respect to me, and when we were at a safe
distance from the lake I said,
"Thatrickety cld bridgenceds repairing.
.No wonder you felt dizzy as you were cross-
ing it. I almost tumbled into the water
myself. You are all right now, are you
not?"
Instead of answering my question she
asked me another. " Where are you going
to take tae?"
"Nowhere,'' I replicd, with a smile,
"except you wish me to show you the way
to any place. Though, for the matter of
that, I don'tpromiso to bo of muck use, as I
am a stranger in the village."
" Don't you know me ? Have you never
seen me before?"
I answered withoet the least hesitation
or compunction. " No, I don't know you,
and I have never seen you before." A sigh
of relief °soaped ber, "But now I look at
you," I continued, "I shouldn't wonder if
you are the girl I'm searching for." Again
the expression on her face was one of fear, as
that of a person who was being hunted
down. " Now, my dear—don't mind my
calling you my dear ; it's only in a fatherly
way, and I want to be your friend if you'll
let ore—don't get wrong thoughts into your
head. AllI know about you, supposing you
to be the person I'm looking for, is what
Miss Haldane has told me, anal it isn't like-
ly, is it, that she should say anything
about you or any ono that wasn't kind and
god?"
" Ulises Haldane 1"
"Yes, my dear, Miss Haldane, as sweet
a young lady as ever drew- b Bath. I`hap-
pened to come down to -night upon a little
matter of business, and Miss Haldane, hap-
pening to see ine, asked me to do her a
service. las the first time I've over been in
Chudleigh, and everybodyand everything,
except Miss Haldane, is new to me, and
that perhaps is why she pressed me into her
serv.-ee. Of course I don't know what was her
reason ; I'm only making a guess at it.
There's -e, grand ball at the Manor House to.
night, you know, and I'm not one of the
guests, not being a gentleman. ' Mr. Mil-
lington'—that's my name, my dear—' Mr.
Millington,' Miss Haldane says to me,
'
there's a young friend of mine to whom I
am afraid the servants in the Hall have be%
hayed unkindly. She is. very sensitive, and
has gone away, when I wanted her to
remain. I wish you would go and find her,
and do what zyou can to help her, and give
ner my love.' '
"She said that?"
" She said that, my dear. " And give Iter
love, andsaythat I am her friend,and
my
shall always be her friend, She hasn't many,
poor girl.' •Then, my dear, she gave ,me a
description of you, 'and told me your name
was Honoria. Is it ?"
" You are not deceiving me ?"
• " Look me in the face, my dear, and say
whether it's likely I would deceive a girl
who might be my daughter, being a father
myself, and be base and mean enough to
invent a story to lead her astray ?"
" No," 'said Honoria, casting 'a timid
glance. at me, "you don'tlook like one of
that sort." •
!' I made the money last as well as I
could ; and you know, Austin, I wrote to.
you more than once." '
Did you?" But although this exclama-
tion implied denial I saw that he had receiv-
ed the letters.
"I did, and asked you what I was to do
but you never replied. Austin, don't drive
me to despair. You don't know what is be-
fore me—something that makes me tremble
to think of. It would be better forme to be
dead than to live through what is coming un-
less you keep the promise you made me."
"Is that all you have to say? he asked,
flicking the ash• off his cigar.
"What more can I say, Austin?"
"I can't suggest. You have already said
too much."
" There is one thing I could do if you
abandon me."
"What isit?"
" Expose you."
He laughed. " Who would believe you?
Who would take the word oats thief and a
wanton against that of a gentleman? There
have been plenty ofthese trnmped.up charges;
look them
up, and see who has come
best off. You would but expose your
own shame, my lady. Now, just look here.
Dare to threaten me again, and I'll set the
police on you. Be reasonable, and I'll help
you on a bit, as I would help a stranger.
Here's a sovereign; you can get back to
London with it ; and then, never let me hear
of you again. You can't say now that I'm
hard on you."
He held out the sovereign to her, but she
did not take it. •
"Is that all you will, do?" she asked..
"0 !" he said, " do you want more?"
"It is not money I mean."
"I can't think of anything else. Will
you be sensible, and take a couple of i-'ver-
eigna?
" No."
" Then I've nothing more to say. Good
night."
He turned on his heel, and walked leisure-
ly away, giving her time to call.him back.
But she spoke no word, and presently he
was out of sight and hearing.
Mywhole attention was now centred upon
Honoria.' , T felt that if I now suddenlyre-
sented myself I should frustrate the . object
I had in view. Honoria would know that I
had been eavesdropping, and that the true
"I'm not one of that sort. HI were it
isn't likely a sweet lady like Miss Haldane
'would put such trust in me. Then she says
to me, 'Perhaps Honoria is in want of
money,' and ahe empties her purse into my
hand. ' Give her this, and ask her, if she
will not come to me, to let me come to her,
and beg her, with my love,lto write to me.'"
I took Honoria's hand in mine, and put into
it the gold and silver which Miss Haldane
had entrusted me with. She. looked'at the
money with.eyes in which tears were rising.
I hailed this softened mood with satisfac-
tion ;
atisfac-tion; it was the best of signs. " And
mind,' says Miss Haldane, 'e you're not to
leave Honoria till you see her comfortably
provided for.' Then, having to dress for the
ball, she sent me . away to find you, and 1
don't fox a moment •doubt, if her dutiesbad
not kept her at the Hall, that she would
have come out with me to look for you.
Well, my dear, it was rather a wild goose •
obese I was engaged in, and I hardly knew
which way to look. I wouldn't go to the
village,
" Why?"
"Because Miss Haldane "ave me to un-
derstand that it would be of no use to look
there
foryou.
You will most likely,'s
she
said,find Honoria somewhere in tho
ar
k
or the woods,' and it was there I searched for
you. You weren't in the park, so far as I
see, and I went to the woods, and had given
you up, for I saw no trace of you, and was
coming backover thebridge when I caught
sight of a figure orossiug that rickety struc-
ture. I suppose you were alarmed, for y ou
struggled to get away from me, and now,
my dear, you know all it is in my me?" to
toll you, I hope you believe me ?'
" Yes,a said kionoria, "I believe you."
A+td now she burst into a passion of tears.
Out of tenderness for her, and to strengthen
her confiticnee in me, I turned my head, and
waited till her passion was spent. Then I
said -
"The q•testionisnow, What are we to do?
I have only partly executed Miss Raidane's
connnission. She won't be satisfied unless
I finish it. I've got to look after you, you
know."
"I must ask you something first," said
1-ronoria.
"1'il answer anything you put to me."
" You searched the woods for me, and
didn't Rod me."
" No, I did not finch you, and I was great-
ly disappointed."
'Did you see anyone there?"
"Not asoul. The ,atace was as quiet end.
lonely as a cburchyard. I don't mind eon-
fessing I was glad to get out of it,"
She wiped her eyes, and looked at me at-
tentively,
" Well, my dear," I said with a smile.
t t Do yr u think you can trust me
" I meet tr • it yon," she replied, " there
is no one else."
Yon must have shelter for the night.
Shall we go to the village?"
" No," she said, shufidering ; " not there,
sot there 1"
" Yerllaps you would like to get back to
London ?:,
Can I1 It is so late'."
"I have a time -table in my pooltet." I
consulted it. As I have said,therc was a last
night train for London, and there was,more.
over, an early morning train from the city,
which would enable me to get back to
('hndleigh Park in time for my appointment
with Mr. Haldane. I told Veneris of the
late train,
" I will take it," she said.
" And I will go with you," 1 said,
" There is no occasion. I can go alone.'
"My dear," I said, " you will allow me,
as a father. to know what is best. I would
not let a daughter of my own travelalone se
late as this and I;aha11 not lot you. Besides,
I have promised Miss Haldane to see you in
safe shelter to -night, and I shall insist upon
earryylug out her wishes.
dile yielded without remonstrance, and
we steeped an towards the station. It suited
her humour and mine that our way lay
through a bye road, where we were not
likely to meet with any of the villagers, but
we had firat to traversoa path from which I
saw the lights in the Manor House shining.
We had a few minutes to spare, and I asked
Honoria whether she would mind waiting
for me alone while I ran to the Hall, my
reason—with which I made her acquainted
--being to endeavour to communicate to
Miss Haldane the news of Honoria's
safety.
"It will relieve Miss Haldanc's mind, I
said. "She is very anxious about you and the
knowledge that 1 azo taking care of you will
contribute to bar enjoyment to night."
" Yes, go," saki Honoria.
" Yon will not run away."
" I promise," she answered.
" ahali 1 give any meisage to Miss Hal.
dame from you ?a
• " Say that I am humbly grateful," replied
Honoria, ail added, after a struggle with
herself, "and that I am unworthy of her
kindness."
" That, indeed, I shall not say,"I remark.
ed, and, leaving Honoria ina secluded spot,
I hastened to the. Hall.
Good fortune befriended me ; I saw
Rachel, and she stepped aside with me.
"Tell Miss Haldane," I said, " that I
have found Honoria, and azo going to Lon-
don with her."
" It will make her happy to hear it," said
Rachael ; " she has been worrying about
her. But, 0, Ms. Millington, what a trouble
for you 1"
" Not at all, my dear," I said. " I would
do much more than this to serve so sweet a
lady."
" Mr. Millington," said Rachael, "I am
so glad I know you, and that you are wbat
you are. George was right:"
"He is not wrong about many things, my
dear," I said.
" Not about me ?" she asked, with a
pretty archness.
• " Not at all about you, my dear," I said,
and I kissed the good girl, there being no
one to see us. "I shall be back in Chud-
leigh to -morrow. Any word for George?"
"My love, Mr. Millington."
" I will give it him, Rachel."
" My dear love," she said.
" Yes, Rachel. • Good night, my dear."
"Good night, Mr. Millington."
I sped back to Honoria, with sonie slight
misgivings as to -whether I should fiud•her;
but she was faithful to her promise, and we
arrived at the station before the train was
there. Honoria kept herself out of ..view of
the station master, and 1 succeeded in put-
ting her in a third .class carriage without
her being observed by any one who knew
her. 'There were very few travellers by the
train, and Honoria and I had a compartment
to ourselves. It was during an endeavour
to open a conversation with the poor
girl that I noticed signs of exhaustion o in
user.
"You are faint,"I said.
"I am hungry."
"How careless of me not to have thought
of it," I said, but I had no time to say more,
for Honoria's eyes closed, and she sank back
in a Swoon.
I could do nothing to relieve her, not
being provided with food or drink. As she
lay before me I could not help seeing how
beautiful she was. Her features were faultless
and her dark hair and eyebrows, in contrast
with her pallid face, added to her loveliness.
A dangerous gift for. -a poor girl without
parents or protector. My thoughts wander-
ed to the man; she called by the name of
Austin, who was clearly her betrayer. 1
-did not need to be told the story of the
lietrayal.and the desertion; it was not, as he
had said, a comedy, but he was right when he
said that the world knew it by 'heart. Then
I thought. of Miss Haldane. She had no
suspicion of Honoria's shame, whenshe
became acquainted with it, as one day she
must, how would she act ? What a shock it
would be to her pure heart to learn •that.
Honoria bad fallen so low ! And for Honoria`
herself what would be the end ? Too
well did I divine the . meaning of the
words she had spoken to her betrayer:'
You don't know what is before me
something that makes me tremble to think
of, It would be better for me to be dead �.
than to live •throngh-what is coming unless
you keep the promise you made me." Was
this man, Austin, a friend of the Haldane,s?
The assignation in Chudleigh Woods with
Honoria strengthened,. theppresumpt�ion, that.
be was no stranger to t}te locality, and
therefore no stranger at the Manor House,
Was he trusted by bliss Haldane ? Had he•
succeeded in con ceal
ing
his true eharctex
front her? In these reflections T saw all
the materials for apregnant drama of human
life, although only one of its incidents had
been, by accident, revealed to me.
My business, however, was not with the
future, bat the present. Thepoor insensible
girl needed practical assistance, and while
the traiu was speeding on I could not render l
it to her. Luckily we stopped at a station;
uniitekiiy there WAS no refreshment bar
there. But 1 made a friend of the guard.
For a consideration he supplied me with a
slice of bread and butter, part of his night's
meal, and water in a lemonade bottle, I
moistened Honoria's lips with the water,
and bathed her forhead with it. She opened
her eyes.
"Drink,"I said, "and eat this slice of
bread. When we get to London you shall
have something better. "
She thanked =gratefully, and I managed'
to sustain her spirits till we arrived at aur
destivation. flailed a cab and informing
the driver of our needs, he took us to a
coffee house, where a cup of Izot coffee and
some bread and meat put colour into Hon-
orie's cheeks. I, also, being rather used up,
was thankful for the refreshment.
Where to ? " asked the driver.
Strangely, l had not thought of a place,
and I asked Honoria whether there were
any lodgings to which I could take her..
No, she answered, she did not know of auy.
She had had rooms in a house, but had been
turned out of them, and she would not ta-
ttoo. It was now between three and four
o'clock in the morning, and as I was stand-
ing in perplexity as to what to do, Honoria
sand ;
" Leave
inc here ; I can manage for my
self."
"No," I said, "that is impo, sible. To
leave you alone in London atreets at such
an hour='
There was nothing for it but to take her
to my house, and 1 will give the driver my
address. I told Honoria what I had de-
termined upon.
"There is only my son and a maid at
home," I said, "but you can rest on the
sofa. till morning, when you will be able to
get a plaee that will suit you."
She looked at me in wonder I thought
and we drove to Shepherd's Bush, where I
dismissed the cab, and rang and knocked at
Mr street door. I could not ltel? smiling
to myself as I thought of Georges amaze-
ment when be saw me at such a time of
night hi the company of generis.
Who's there?" George called out,
presently, from the passage.
" Ope:i the door, old man," I cried,
" Why dad 1" exclaimed George, and the
door was hastily thrown open. As I expect.
ed, George, who was in his trousers, without
coat or waistcoat, fell back at sight of
Honoria.
"Light the gas in the sitting.mom,
George," I said. "Rurry up, old man."
Ile obeyed mo in silence, and I conducted
Hanoria to the room, where she stood with
her hand resting on the table, and with
rather a thoughtful obasrvance of George.
" This is a friend of Miss Haldane's," I
said to him, "at whose request T have
brought to London. It would not have
been proper for her to travel alone in the
middle of the night."
"Not at all, dart."
" All the houses and hotels are closed, so
I brought her home here, where she willstay
till morning."
" Quito right, dad " But George was
obviously puzzled.
" Yon can have my bedroom if you like,"
I said, turning to Honoria. " You mustbe
dreadfully tired."
"Tam ashamed to put you to so much
trouble," she answered. " I will rest onthe
sofa if you will allow me."
" Very well. Is there anything more I
can do for you ?"
"Nothing, thank you. There is no man
in the world who would have done so
much."
Rea lips trembled, and I made a motion
to George to leave the room.
" Will you shake hands with me?" asked
Honoria.
" Indeed I will."
But to my surprise, when I held out my
hand, she would not take it, and the thought
crossed my mind that she had asked me to
try me, and to be sure whether I was ac-
quainted with her shames—in which case, she
probably argued, I should have refused.
" If you can trust me," she said, with a
grateful look, " will you leave me alone'
here?"
" Of course I can trust you," I said heart-
ily. • " Try and get an hour's sleep. .I may
be able to see you in the morning before I
go.13
With that I left her, and went straight to
George.
(TO BE COSTI:TUED.)
CREAM
PoCtIOL
RHEUMATISM,
Neuralgia, Sciatica,
Lumbago, Backache,
Headache,
Toothache,
Sore Throat,
Frost Bites, Sprains,
Bruises, Burns, Etc.
Sold by Druggists and Dealers everywhere.
Fifty Cents a bottle. Directions=
11 Languages.
THE CHARLES A. VOGUE* CO..BattlatOrr, Its
Canadian Depot: Toronto, Ont.
The head Surgeon
Ofthe Lubon Medical Company ass now at
Toronto, Canada, and may be consulted
either in person or by letter on all chronic
diseases peculiar to man. Men, young, old,
or middle-aged, who find themselves nerv-
o'i weak and exhausted, who are broken
down from excess or overwork, resulting in
many of the following symptoms: Mental
depression, premature old age, loss of vital-
ity, loss of memory, bad dreams, dimness of
sight, palpitation of the heart, emissions
lack of energy, pain in the kidneys, head-
ache, pimples on the face of Body, itching or
inpeculiar sensation about the scrotum wast-
g of the organs, dizziness, specks before
the eyes, twitching of the muscles, eye lids,
and elsewhere, bashfulness, deposits in the
urine, loss of will power, tenderness of the
scalp and spine, weak and flabby muscles,
desire to sleep, failure to be rested by sleep,
constipation, dulhuess of hearing, loss of
voice, desire . for- solitude, excitability of
temper, sunken eyes surrounded with
LEADEN' CIRCLE, oily looking skin, eto., are
all symptoms of nervous debility that lead
to insanity and death unless cured. The
spring or vital force having lost its tension
every function wanes in consequence. Those
who through abuse committed in ignor-
ance may be permanently cured. Send youa
address for book on all diseases peculiarto
man. Address M. V. LUBON, 50 Front St.
R, Toronto, Ont. Books sent free sealed.
Heart disease, the symptoms ` of which are
faint spells, purple lips, numbness, palpita-
tion, skip beats, hot Hushes, rush of blood to
the head, dull pain in the heart with 'beats
strong, rapid and irregular, the second heart
quicker than the first, pain about the breast
bone, etc., can positively be cured.. No
cure, noay. Send for book. Address M.
V. LUBON, 50 Front Street East, Toren.
to, Ont.
SHILO 'S
CONSUMPTION
CURE.w
The success of this Great Cough Cute is
without a parallel in the history of .medicine,
All druggists are authorized to sell it an a pos•
-
itive guarantee, atest that no other cure can sue.
cessfully stand. That it may become known,
the Proprietors, at an enormous expense, are
placing a Sample Bottle Free into every home
in the United States and Canada. If you have
a Cough, Sore Throat, or Bronchitis, use it, for
it will cure you. If your child has the Croup,
or Whooping Cough, use it promptly, and relief
is sure. If you dread that insidious disease
Consumption, use it. Ask your Druggist for
SHILOH'S CURE, Price ro cts., go cts. and
$x.00. If your Lungs are sore or Back lame,
use Shiloh's Porous Plaster, Price as cis.
Snug histo fertunrshase been teAAe at
° •r '�i �. worns, be fee by Anna lit Austin.
. ,i''t..'r-•�' e" �,• t' J texasOda, and Joe. Donn, Ts tatOda sea cut. mhos *redoing a.we;z. whir
+at you'? Sone NAM ate,. i1ee,eea S• uoath4 ran candy the trout ani lie*
se Maine. N'Lemur yen are. 1•IveA be-
ginner* ere easily earning Arai *8 to
aloadsr•. Mstep. mreshow+oa how
and start yon. Can n'srk eu estters titan
or all thetints. Big money ler h•mk•
Fw0a1N0 ulnw
II.AIalett� beiQaPortlut,'uaandmi.nsu.lsraeine
e,..
RAMER)
EMULSION
COMPOUND
BRONCHITIS
186 Lexington Ave.
New York City, Sept 6,1865.
I have used the Flax -Seed ;Emulsion in several
dues of Chronic Bronchitis, and the early stages of
Phthisis, and have been well pleased with the results
JAMES K. CROOK, M.D.
CONSUMPTION
Brooklyn, N.Y., Feb. 14th 1889.
I have used your Emulsion in a case of Phthisic
(consumption) with beneficial results, where patient
could not use Cod Liver 00 in
J. nI any fomDROni. M. D.
NERVOUS
PROSTETION
Brooklyn, N. Y., Dec. 2lith,1888.
I can strongly recommend Flax Seed Emulsion as
helpful to the relief and possibly the cure of all Lung,
Bronchial and Nervous Affections, and a good gee.
oral tonic la physical debility
JOHN F. TALMAGE, M. D.
GENERAL DEBILITY
Brooklyn N. Y., Oct. 10th, 1888.
I regard Flax Seed Emulsion as greatly superior to
theCod Liver OilEniuLsions so generally in use.
D. A. GORTON, M. D.
WASTING
DISEASES
107 \VestSdth Si.
New York, Aug. 6, 1&S.
un
I have til your Flax -Seed Emulsion Comaonnd
In a severe Gare of Mal -nutrition and the result was
mote than hoped for—it was marvelous, and con-
tinuous. I recommend it cheerfully to the profession
and humanity at large. Id. II. GILBERT, M.D.
RHEUMATISM
Sold by. Druggists, Price $'l .0O
FLAX -SEED EMULSION Cho
35 Liberty. St., New York.
For sale by W. E. Cocheneaer, Exeter.
t
Emulsion
OF
Cod Liver Oil
AND THC
Hypophosphites of Lime and Soda.
No other Emulsion is so
easy to take.
It does not separate nor
spoil.
It is always sweet as cream.
-The most sensitive stomach
can retain it.
CURES •
Scrofulous and
Wasting Diseases.
Chronic Cough.
Loss of Appetite.
Mental and Nervous
Prostration.
General Debility, &c.
•
Beware of all imitations. Ask for
"the D. & L." Emulsion, and refuse
all others.
sauce SOC. AND :o` PER EoTTLC.
.1