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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Exeter Advocate, 1892-1-28, Page 6!Bargains fee Seholta.rs.1 einem' little man leept an alphabet ehop, Ana (me from his count,en hipaitYtmle Ile 4p.m:el anti ho was reany to done Seenen aon eleenting With never a stop: owe en. little %Molars. WLi brieht silver dollars, Or it you vo not an• y Theo COIIIS with a ponny. 1 have bumble ne And meamwfat Ps, noon+ Chinese (A4 . And neeenese as A eloole of Aud lots ot .ied 'perfectly beautiful dark -blue Oe; Tine la tile place to buy your lenowledge, AtE cliesnor atee tban are given at college!" Then, he'd Maw a long breath Bad spin like a top, Tide queer little man in an alphabet shop. --einem X. Pratt, in natmeare St. Nieholas. A BARITONE'S DEVOTION 011, A TALE OF SUNNY ITALY. The hthernaten stood on the quiet and l000y teach watohing then, and medi- eitately ,stroking one of his huge, projecting One well," he remarked, shrugging kis slicielders," some of us he born to happa Jose au 1 some to sorrow, there's no helping that nab all of us ought to be born to a fair ohence of living somehow. So says the young signor but I doubt me if, for all his ee hot wds, and his seeming near as much of a Socialist as any of us, he'd etre to act it oat in his life. Eh, eh t we be all of us ready enough to talk about others, but to tre for thern—thath another matter." And, with a grim chuckle, Florestano relied out a number of La Camparia from !hie pocket, and stretching himself on the pebbles, began to spell out more lessons in Soodaliern. The sun was low ia the heavens when the lbvers retnrned. from their row. Carlo had to hasten home to his mother, but later in the evening he once more appeared at Casa Bella,. Apart from Francesca all his rest - fess apprehension had returned. Captain Britton was asleep in the ming - room. • Francesca, was in the dusky drawing - mown, seated at the piano, where two candles under rose-colored shades made a Ittle oasis of light. She was trying over Jur favorite of all Carlo's songs, " Die Possente," but broke off with a little cry of surprise and delight as he came toward "1 shall think that my ring is a fairy ging," she cried, " and brings me all I wish for. I was just longing to hear you sing Carlo had not felt in a singing humor, but her words drove everything else from his mind, and he sang perhaps all the better for the' real care and anxiety which were oppressing him; certainly he sang as she had never before heard him sing. " Piale is right," she said at the close, brushing away the tears from her eyes; "Nature meant you for a singer: you were Valentino then, and no one else." Carlo did not speak ; she looked up at Mm quickly, and again saw that look of care which he had borne hank with him from Naples. . "My darling," she said, making room for hint on the ottoman beside her, "you are keeping something frora me; you are unhappy, Carlo min and yet you will not let me know." "Yes," he said, sadly, " I must let you now; that it what I came back for. You remeniber Nita ?" "Your sister ? Yes—oh, yes! What of her? 110,2 she ',mitten 2 "No; but to -day in Naples, as I walked down the Strada S. Trinita, 1 saw that she was to sing the week after next at the Mereadante." Francesca looked startled. All in a ' • raireate it flashed upon her that tho perfect peace of their betrothal was disturbed, and that it could never return. e She knew enough of Nita's story to be aware how painful it would be for both • Signora Dotati and Carlo to have her as the prima donna of a Neapolitan theatre ; but she tried harcito see gleams of possible good in the news. "She may be sorry, and come to see you," she suggested. "Oh, surely she would come Lack to Villa Bruno when he is so near to it as Naples ?" But Carlo was not hopeful. She listened to all his doubts and fears with tender womanly sympathy. She was no spoiled child, caring only for the pleasure of her betrothal ; perhaps, indeed, notwithstand- fug the ruffled peace, she had never been so • happy as she was that evening when Carlo • told her his troubles, and then, with his arm rowed her, whispered sweet words about • the comfort of telling her. •Francesca quite agreed with Enrico that it would be better to say nothing as yet to the Signora Donati ; and even in her aka- iety there was keen pleasure in feeling that • she had a right to share her lover's cares. • The next day was Sundae', and Carlo, as usual., drove in to the English Church with • the Mittens. But after the service he left them, pleading an engagement, and went off to gee if Merlino's company had arrived. The Palazzo Forel was in a gloomy side fitrect ; he entered. the courtyard, and founcl his way up a very dirty stair -case to the third floor, where he rang and enquired whether Madame Ilnerlino had arrived. An answer in the affirmative from a bright-eyed Etna servant made his heart leap into his throat. He had not expected it. He had walked to the old Palazzo be the firm con- erictiotethat his sister would not yet have , reached Naples, and to be told that she was actually close to him took away his' breath. His hesitated a moment. . "Is she within? can I see her 2" he in- quired. The servant seemed a little doubtful, but rand she would, ask; and, taking Carlo's card, she disappeared, leaving him in the eloor-way. In all his life he never felt so uncomfortable. He had never known Anita well; her convent education had maneher practically a tranger to him, and now pars hed passed since their last meeting, and between them was the shadow of her wrorm-doing, Then, too, he was not even gun whether he should see her alone; her husband might be there; and Carlo, being Italian, and hot-tempered, wag not quite mire how the sight of Merlino might affect him, e beeethed quickly as the servant returned. "Would the sienor step this way for a mina to ?" • Setting his teeth, he followed the maid down a passage, and Was UShated into a goodnieed but comfortless -looking room. He was surprised and relieved, to find within it neither his salter tor Merliree, bat a yotaig lengliehtnen of about eiglet-end- Oren ty, with fair hair and mustache, arched eyebrows, end keen light blue erre, in which there was no mistaking the sparkle of genuine wit ; bat the face was a radices one, and the expeession of cereless good !humor was sometimes slightly tinged with laitternees. He bowed, then glanced again at the venter with undisemised curosity, a You, are Madame Marline's brother, 1 think !" Carle atentited "1 Should hove known yoa anywhere, the likeness is so strong," "1 ;Teak English, if you prefer it, sir "said Carla, eiotieinn that the etreingerts Italai was fer frem lueht. "DO OU? that will be a great relief, thew The le:Inoue(' et yoki foreignene amazes me. Row you can learn our bar- barous tongue I can't conceive. For Me, 1 only learuen enotigh of yours to satisfy my eh:mum-master," "May I ask whom I an speaking to? " said Cade. " "Tam Sardout—that, at least, is my pro- feessionel name--prento tenon of 'the happy band of pilgrims ' who patrol this wicked world under Merlino's care, When they brought me your eard just now I thought 1 might ask to see you, although Madame Merlino is out, for, to tell the truth, signor, it is quite time that Madame Merlino's friends and relations did something to save her, You must pardon me the liberty I am taking, but, indeed, it is little use nuncing matters in an affair of this kind." Carlo took a long look at the speaker. He was evidently an English gentleman—a men deubtless with faults enough, but yet, he instinctively felt, a man to be trusted. "My sister is out, you say," he began, with a troubled look. " She went out driving this morning," said Sardoni, promptly, "with her usual eavalier, Comeno, our first baritone, But I know Comerio well, and he will not long be content to be a mere hanger-on. Every day Madame Merlino gets more under that man's power. He and. she---" But here he broke haetilY off, for Carlo sprung torward with, a gesture so threaten- ing that any one but an Englishman would have recoiled a -pace. " Be silent !" he thundered; "how dare you couple my sister's name with the name of that brute 2" His dark eyes were all ablaze with anger. Sordoni was silent, not because he doubted the truth of his own words, but because he was obliged to pause and admire. • " I see you arethe brother whom Madame Merlino needs," he said, quietly; "and it is in order that those two names may not with just cause be coupled together all the world over that I speak to you plainly." The glow of color had faded from Carlo's face, and had left him unusually pale. He turned away with a groan as Sardoni ended. Vapely as • he had dreaded his sister's arrival, he had never dreamed that it would be so bad as this. "Her husband ?" he said at length. • "Merlino is a brute, but many degrees better than Pomerio. 'Tis a sort of lion and unicorn business, with your sister for crown. But you spoke as though you knew Cornerio 2" "1• only know what report has to say of him," replied Carlo. "Ho was singing here five years ago ; his wife and children, I believe, still live here." "Report says nothing of him that is not strictly true." "But how is it, then, that Merlino is so blind to his oven ioterests as to keep him in his troupe 2" "1 can't say, unless it is that tyrants believe in their own superiority. And then, too, Comedo is such a wily devil, he always manages to keep in Merlino's good books. There has never beeothe least apparent reason for getting rid of him; and, besides, Merlino is not so overburdened with wealth that he can afford to cancel an engagement. Italian opere is not such a paying concern as people think." "1 must try to see my sister," said Carlo, with a sigh, "or write to her." "Then if you see her allow me to sug- gest that you do not caU on her here, where ten to one you will fall foul of her husband; and if you write, do so now and intrust the letter to me, for Merlino watches her cor- respondence with lynx eyes, and does not scruple to open every letter." • Carlo uttered an impatient exclamation of disgust. Every sentence which the Englishman let fall seemed to reveal to him a fresh glimpse of the intolerable life which poor Nita was leading. He accepted the pen and ink which his companion offered him, however, and, drawing a chair to the table, began with deepening color to write. Sardoni glanced at himfrom time to time. He had taken up a newspaper, and made as thoegh he were reading it, but in reality his mind was full of his Italian visitor. Carlo's face was almost as easy to read as a book, and Sardoni could not help feeling sorry for him. He had just witnessed one of the most painful sights imaginable, that of a perfectly unsulliecinature being brought for the first time into near connection with a net -work of evil. There was something, too, in, the implicit trust which Donati had reposed in him which appealed to him strongly. What a wretched. position to be in ! -Powerless to help his own sister with- out trusting to the help, and believing in the honesty, of a stranger and a foreigner ! Carlo in the meantime had finished his letter, and, folding it up, handed it un- sealed to Sardoni. The Englishman put it in his pocket- book, remarking, as he did so. "Por a perfect stranger you trust me with a good deal, Signor Donati." • Carlo looked troubled as it fleshed across him how unsuspiciously he had believed the stranger's words. It had never occurred to him that Sardoni could possibly have any reason for misleading him. He looked at him searchingly. "But then you are an Englishman," he said, in a tone of relief Sardoni laughed. "That is a compli- ment to my nation which I shall not readily forget. But look here "—an expression of great bitterness stole over his face—" there are many of my own countrymen; who would snap their fingers at my word of honor." , "Carlo again looked him through and through, and, as he looked, the blue eyes seemed to grow leas hard, to appeal against that harsh opinion which had been juse mentioned. as for that," said Carlo, with the eirpregenve gestures of a Neapolitan, "that us just nothing at all to me. I trust you, signor." Sardoni smiled and grasped his hand. 4' I'll not betray , your confidence," he said•. And with that the two men parted. Carlo went clown the dirty stone stairs, looking pale and harassed. Sardoni, with a flashed face, returned to his newspaper, but still did not take in one Word. "e trusted me," he thought to himself —" he really did trust me. Oh, God ! if I could only change natures With a fellow like that !" Then as some painful recollection brought hot tears to his eyes, he sprung up, and flinging aside his newspaper Strode acrese to the niano and began to play a waltz. "You are a fool, Jack! 4 fool! it fool! Why should that Italian make yoa think of ib? A mere countrified innocent !" And with that he played on reeklessly, doing hie beat to foraet Donati's eves. CHAPTER VL THE STORNI IBMiltliti "God be praised, that to believing souls Gives light in &Moms% comfort in despair." --King Henry PL. Part /I How to break the news to his mother "1 'bleb' was Carlo's sole thought as he walked home on that Sunday afternoon. Yoe. an Italian he was an unusually good walker, laving fallen it good deal into English habits through his elose friendship with the , desciiption of the signoreee state, she rushed 13rittons ; and perhaps it was to the free 1 out, not even pauditg kr it hat, and never countre life evhich he had always lived, and , stopped rennieg till She reached the Villa to Ins daily rides to etid frott Naples, than Bruno, Then dhe pushed past the little 1 he owed hie larilliatt eoloring and his group who would haves detaitted het, healthy mind and body. , knocked at the door of the salotto, and It tortured him to think that the story Etoftly entered the moth where, only a day Which had been a shook to him would, be tenfold worse to his 'pother, It had been, as Sarnoni observed, hie first near entente - tion with evil, but to his mother it wield be the first, introduetion to evil at all, He had not lived the life of a Neapolitan student withoat aiming: across nanY Commies ; but his =then in bee peeeefal country life, her tranquil invalid, existence, knew nothing of wiekedoess. His Mind wea 00 taken up with the difficulty ef telling her thee he lead no leisure to think of the yet greater difficulty—how to help Auita. He could not bear to be the one to bring her these bad tidings ; he half thought of ashing Father Cristoforo to go to her ; then, eshemed of shrinking from a painful task, he forced himself to pees the old math house, and climbed the hill, turning over in his mind adozen different ways of approach- inogn:of h hethem. saelaject, and feeling satisfied with n There was something very beautiful in the devotion of this mother and 80111 per- haps only Francesca and Clare knew how entirely Coale had given his life to the work his father had left him, or how wonderfully it had helped to mold his character. To a woman it is second nature to devote herself to an invalid, nor does it involve any very serious break in her life ; hut to a man, obliged to go on with his daily work et the same time, the strain of attendance in a sick -room is infinitely greater. "If he can live this life for years, it gives him an es- tablished habit of always 'ruling his life by the needs of another, and not by his own degree. There were two gates to the grounds of Villa Bruno. The One nearest to Naples was that whine led into the stable yard, and Carlo, from force of custom, welt in this way, although he was on foot. He was surprised to see a hired carriage in the yard '• he wondered if possibly Frau Ritter • had driven out to call on his mother, mud paused on hie way to the house to ask a servant who was the visitor. "Oh, signor," said the girl, flushing up, " they say ib is Madame Melillo !" With an exclamation which was almost a cry, he rushed on toward the house. His mother had had no preparation whatever— the shock might be fatal to her. And e'en surely it looked well that Nita should at once hurry home in this way? Surely that in itself gave the lie to Sardoni's assertion? And then it flashed across him that Nita would regard him in the light of the elder brother in the story of the prodigal son, and he prayed that he might be his direct opposite. - Flinging open the front door, he hurried on, pausing for an instant outside the aatotto. There was a sound of voices; he hastily en- tered, glanced quickly toward his mother's couch, then toward his sister, who had. risen at sight of him with a look so frightened and timid that he longed to reassure her, as child. "Why, to still the fears of a terrified hid. Nita !" he exclaimed, kissing her repeatedly, "I have been trying to find yen at Naples, but you were before me after all." • Something in the tone of his "Ben venuto," and in the many untranslatable Italian phrases with which he greeted her, brought the tears to Anitees eyes. She watched. intently while Carlo bent down to kiss his mother. "You are cold, madre mia," he exclaimed. You are faint and overtired." "Alt, it is my fault !" cried Nita, vehe- mently. " Ie is I who hive tired her and broken her heart !" He saw that there would be no quieting her just then, and took the law into his own hends. "You must rest a little' " he said ; "you, too, are tired; andthen, after dinner, mother will be fit to talk again. See, I will show you a room—the place is it little altered." ' With vette difficulty he enticed her away, but no sooner were they alone than her tears again broke forth. "Oh, Carlo, I am afraid I have been too much for her," she exclaimed; "and yet,— and yet—I wanted so to come." • "Yes, yes, I am so glad you came; only we must be careful," said poor Carlo, dis- tracted at the thought that she was keeping him from his mother, and much alarmed as he recollected how white and weary the in- valid had looked. "There, you will lie Icli:Itee; and rest till dinner Ooze,. will you "tut I ought to go back," sobbed Nita. "Nob yet,' he said; "you must dine first. And now promise me to rest. There, I will not stay longer; I am a little anxious —she is not strong, you know." . • He tore himself away, and returned as feet as possible to the &dolt°. His mother's face was hidden; he could • hear her low, gasping sobs. " Madire mia!" he cried, and there was anguish in his voice, "oh, do not give way! She has come beak to us, carina. All will be well if only you will take care of your- self." I must tell you—" she sobbed. "Not now," he said— "not now, mother. Indeed you must be quiet, or—" "1 must speak," she said ; " it is killing me! I must speak now, that you may promise me to save her." " From her husband?" he asked, anxiou to find how nrach she knew. " nTo no ; from one she loves. Don't look like that, Carlo—her husband was so stern and cruel, and she was afraid of him, •and—the man was kind." "Kind 1" ejaculated Carlo, with scorn indescribable. He alwaye tried to shield her from her husband, and then when they were leaving America, she was itt debt and he lent her money, and—" "Enough, darling, enough," he said, with tenderness which contrasted strangely with his last ejaculation. "She came and told you all, and now we can help her. If you love, me, try to rest." But it was too late. The shock and the agitation had brought on oneof thesignora's worst attacks Carlo hastily summoned a servant, and the whole houreehold came rushing together in a miserable confusion of helplessness. But the maids only glanced at their mistrees' faee and went away; they would have left their own relations rather than have stayed in a room where the Death Angel already hoveted, It was then, in his terrible, lonely watch, that Carlo thanked. Heaven that Franceecee Was English. The doctor had already bean gent for, but he left hie mother for a mo- ment and hurried toward the group of weeping women gathered round Anita. ' " We have sent for Father Cristoforo, signor," sinclone, hoping for it word of com- mendation for her forethought. But Carlo took no notice, nor did his stern face soften. "Otto of you go instantly," he mid, "and feteli Miss Britton.' Franceste, knew little of sickness, nor had he ever seen death, but she had none a the Italian ehrinkirig from a dying bed; in fact, every thought of herself .WIIS swallowed Zp in the one long.ing to be able to help herlo. Cahn" g shore the Perianth tearful or two before, they lad spout suell a happy Weeping. For it moment she stood amazed, able to thiele of nothing but the havoc wrought in so ehort s tinee, Her lover knelt beside the couch; he looked ten years older than When they hednarted that morning. The signore, whose bead rested on his ant, was haggard, nbeetlY, attexey claimed, while the 'ode- serelable look of approatehing (teeth upon her face seemed reflected in the yoang face which, bent over her. "Darling, is there anything I gen do ?" said Franoeeca, when she had wiped the damp brow and reverently kissed the dying woman, "Nothing,' he replied, "except to stay. here. You do not mind ?" He looked up at her with questioning eyes, which yee were sure of their answer. " Oh, no !" she said. "1 am so thankful you sent for me." A long sigh escaped him ; he tried to esti& it, lest it should disturb his mother, who lay with closed oyes. And after that the room was perfectly quiet, so quiet that Francesca could hear the ticking of her watch; while the canary in the window, pecking the bars of his cage with his little pink beak, seem.ed to make it noise so loud that the wondered whether it would dis- turb the signora. At last there was a• change in the wan face • the eyes opened, and the signora, looke:d up at Francesca with a smile. Perhaps the beautiful face of the girl made her think of her own daughter, for the smile changed to a look of anguish as she turned her eyes to her son. "Don't forsake Nita—promise me --save her—try to save The words were gasped out with tin agony of tone indesoribable, But yet it was not till Carlo's answer was given that Francesca's eyes brimmed over with tears. "1 promise, madre promise." His face was like the face of a. Saviour, strong, pure and sweet; his voice was firm and clear. No one could have helped trusting him. A look of rest—even of hopefulness stole over his mother's tace.enhe lay stiU for a few minutes, then turned again to Francesca, with a most beentiful smile. "Ile has never given me one inomenth sorrow all his life,, ' she said. The words, which would be seveet to re- member in after years, which might bring in time to the lips of the son a . reflection of the mother's smile as she uttered them, were, just then, more than he could endure. His fortitude gene way • he had little to reproach himself with, yet it grieved him now to remember that at times it had been a hard struggle to leave Naples and return to the quiet of Ville, Bruno, and that sometimes he had perhaps lingered it litt1e longer than he should have done at Casa Bela. Now his days of service were over ; she would no longer need his help. With a cry which tore Francescah neart he bent down, clasping the dying forrn yet oloser as he sobbed out a passionate appeal: "Mother, mother, do not leave me r But the signora was past hearing, past speaking—only she felt his close embrace, and, feebly raising her left hand, passed it behind his head with that gentle pressure —half caress, half support—which every woman knows how to bestow on a baby. And thus they stayed till the door opened, and the old priest and a little acolyte entered, barely in time to administer the last sacraments. Then Carlo regained his composure, stung into calmness by a sort of bitter resentment that an outsider must usurp thou: last sacred moments, and that • he, heretic and alien, had no part or lot in the ceremony, and would be expected to leave the room. But Father Oristoforo, who was it son first and a churchman after- ward, read his thoughts at once. "Stay, my son," be said, with so kind and fatherly a look that Carlo's bitter thoughts were banished, and he kept on still supporting his mother. Francesca knelt too, on the other side of the couch, but she could neither pray nor feel; she watched the scene like one m a dream. The sunshine streamed in through the window, lighting up the white, un- conscious face of the signora and the grief- stricken face of her son, the rich vestments and tonsured head of the eeriest, the curious, roving eyes of the acolyte with his little silver -toned bele But Francesca was still numb from the exceeding pain of watching her lover's agony. Now he was peaceful once more; his thoughts were raised above the pain of the parting, but her thoughts •would not follow. The monotonous voice of Father Christoforo as he intoned the service, seemed only to increase her dull stupor. It was not till the canary in the window broke out into a sudden burst of song that her heart seemed to awake once more and join in the familiar woids, "Gloria in excelais Deo. . E in terra pax hominibus." And then, as once more the service became unintelligible to her, she bent her head, and prayed on with fast flowing tears, "God ! I thank Thee that she is spared the pain—that it is only left for us.' When she looked up once more all was over. Father Cristoforo, with it few kited words, went quietly away; from without there was it sound of bitter weeping; but Carlo knelt on with bowed head and peacefulheart, ard the signora's face was stamped .with that calm majesty of death which Francesca had never before seen, and the canary in the window still sun his song of praise. CHAPTER VIL "No ON BUT YOU. "You like to behold and even to touch the Chose but, alas! when the command comes to you te bear itl"—Penelon. Francesca had lived many years in Italy, and had more than once witnessed the passionate demonstrationg of sorrow in a bereaved household; neverthelese, it was something of a shock to her to leave the quiet room of death and to go to Anita, whom she found surrounded by the weeping servants. They evidently took a melancholy pleasure in watching her violent naroxyesms of grief. To the English girl 611011 a state of things Beamed. dreadful ; film did as she would have been done by, and induced the noisy mourners to go away, thinking that poor Anita would find whatever comfort there was for her in silence and, solitude. She could not understand that total absence of the consciousness of other e which to a northern nature is so utterly foreign ; and she would have left Anita, with a fey', tender words and it long, close embrace, had not the poor girl clung to her like a child, with such wild sena and tears, each loud, unre- strained crying, that 1' rancesea. beget t� understand that she must he comforted much as Sibyl needed oomfortiem after seine dire digester. At length, words began to frame them- selves amid the sobs, it constent repetition of the one bitter regret which overpowered everything else: I have killed her ! have killed her 1 It is 0li my doing !" "Von could not tell—you could not know," said Fra,nceeca, feeling it hard indeed to find words to meet so terrible a grief, and weeping, too, for sympathy. She has been so much weaker of late--unithk to hear any thock—beit how could you know? Arid oh, Nita, she MBA have beet so glad that you dame 1" "No, no," sobbed Nita. "X might have etayed eiway, and then she would have for- gottet." " Neeer, for the level you," said Frau- ceeca. 44 Her last words almost were of you. Oh, if you oold ben° heard how .she begged Carlo net to leave you !" 13et at tine httta only yeept the more. "Carlo will late me," she cried. " Oh, let me go ! let me go I Tell them to put in the horses. I omen stay here any longer." He does not bate you ; 1e levee yoe," said Francesca, warmly. "He promised the signora that he would always take care of von." • • Seinething in her 'tone quieted Nita. She lay musing over the words, wondering if, indeed, her brother knew all and would yet help her, trembliog with fear at the thought of meeting him, and yet trembling still more where rile thought of going bade to Naples to face temptations too strong for her, Francesca 'watched her tenderly, aware that some conflict Was going on in her mind, thatigh wholly ignorant of her story, and far too young and innocent to dream of the meaning which lay in the dying words of the signora. Nine was in trouble, and in some sort of difficulty, and Carlo had pro - /Weed to help her. Fraucesca did not curiously wonder what the difficulty might be, tor did she for one moitent doubt Carlo's power of saving her. She accepted every- thing with the quiet confidence of a child who is vaguely 0011g4011$ that there is trouble in the house, but is quite certain thee its elders will soon make it all right. Looking et Nita, she SSW how strong a likeness existed between the brother and sister; and even if he had not felt drawn • towarel her before by her loneliness and her grief, this would have appealed to her. The fine proffie and the warm, bright color- ing were exactly alike, but the mouth was disappointing, and hadthe same weakness which had slightly spoiled the expression of Signora Doted ; while the eyes, though large and beautiful, were lacking in soul, and might almost have been the eyes of a doll, so little did theyvary. But yet, as • Nita lay there in her grief and self-reproach, trying to make up her mind between two evils, wondering which fear was the least intolerable, there was soniething about her which pleaded for pity. She was so young, so weak—a parasite by nature—she seemed ready to cling to anything, no matter what it was, so long as it had the strength' which she lacked: • She was afraid of sleeping in the same house as her dead mother, but then she vva,s yet more: afraid of coufeseing to her husband where she had been. She dreaded meeting Carlo,. but eho still more dreaded n nieeting °ome°. All at once it oecurred to her to wonder who her companion was. "I have forgotten your name, signorizia," she said, looking into the sweet, pure face above her; "but - I think you must be Carlo's English playmate from Casa Bella, ?" "Yes ;i am Francesca Britton," she re- plied, quietly, not liking just then to speak of her happy betrothal. "Ah ! how shocked I was in the old days at the games you and he played together 1" said Nita, wistfully. " And now—now it is 1 who have shocked you all. But you were tithe right all the time. I have seen Amerman life since then, and if we Italian girls had something of their liberty there would not be so many broken hearts among The words reminded her of grief, and she again burst into tears. "Let me fetch Carlo," said Francesca. "Bo will comfort you as no one else can. Oh, you must not say you are afraid of him ; that is only because you have forgot- ten. And I may tell him that you will stay, may I not ?—you could not leave hira all alone. - Nits, sobbed out something inarticulate, whieh Francesca, took for a consent, and hurried away in search of her lover. She found him in the salotto, but the body of the signora had been carried to her own room, and Carlo, looking broken-hearted, was trying to write a, letter to his uncle to tell him the news. Softly passing her arm round his neck, and with her cool cheek leaning against his heated brow, she stood by hiln for some moments in silence. "1 must go home, my own," she said, at length."Father will have come back, and will not know where I am. May I ask him to come in and see if he can help you in any way ?" • Carlo thanked her. He felt dazed and bewildered; he thought it woulcl be a com- fort to have the help of the kind-hearted Englishman, who delighted in managing other people's affnirs. "And then there is Nit', !" he exclaimed, with a look Of perplexity. That promise which he had made returned to him. It lay like a heavy weight on his burdened mind; he had promised to save her, but how to perform that promise he had not an idea. "Ib was about Nita I wanted to speak to you," said Francesca. "She said at first that the must go back to Naples at once, and seemed to dread meeting you. But I think -1 really think she would stay if you went to her and let her see that you care for her still. She is in terrible distress, and no one but you can comfort her, Carlo mio." To bn oontannen. Things That Take. New Bilks showing shots or dots and broken chevron designs. Expensive ribbons showing a straw effect in the border weaving. . Bamboo screens filled with 'taped piecee of China elle. Fancy embroidered mats or table -tops in plate of table -covers. Velvet ribbon ties on every theme and kind of hat, toque and bonnet. Pink, light yellow and cream ladies' cloth for opera and dinner gowns. Bengaline and embroidered chiffon for expensive tea -gowns and jackets. Black moire striped with light colors for trimming Meek and colored gowns. Berthas of Poine Venice lace draped with rosettes of pearl passementeries. — Dry Goods Economist. tete& fan - .t Clearly Relined eseue. Political candidate—I do not know how that election will come out. Both 'emetics advocate the sante reforms and seem to be as one on all local questions. :Friend—Oh, there will be a clearly defined bane when the other side have made their nomination. P. C.—Think so? F.—Certainly. They are going to put up an honest man against you. A Jewel ora OIrl. Boston News : Hi Mother—Oh, of course she is all right, and I've no doubt yon love her ; but you really shouldn't merry a.poor girl. She hasn't it cent, end— He—Indeed ! She has hair of gold, her laughter is silvery, she has teeth of pearls, ruby lips, her eyes are diamonds, her brow is of ivory whitewall, her throat is alabaster and—" She faints with rapture. Gladetone will be known as a Greek scholar as long as his fame as it statesman shall endure and were he no statesman at all he would still be famous as an author Yet great statesmen are rarely great au- thors. It is and with alt serioneness that Chethean and Pitt, Wilberforce, Fon and O'Connell "have left nothing which lives in literatuee." Burke, the orator, states- man and author, left speeches that will lee With them f Dernosthettee. • ICE EllAUDED efelle WHIM. Annielucky Scotch tad Tackled Elha Passage leitonen Mame. Master James Sullivan, of Bdiubdrgb Seotlaud, agen 15, was it prisoner in Je sou Market Police Court this morning' charged hy Officer W. J. Beard, of that Broadway squad, with begging. Maeter. Sullivan has man been in the country, ae- cording bo his story, about three months,, but in that time he has had enough adven- tures and travellieg to satisfy a man of mature years. And besides that, he haat niet and had easy eonveree With MOher pereonified, ,Tay Go )1Id. The youpg Scotch/ran is a bright and handsome boy, with chubby, red cheek e and a pair of big gray eyes, fringed with heavy black lashes. Re looks frankly at every- body he talks with. Before he was are reigned young Sullivan told the story of Ma travels to the reporters and attaches of thet court, and statrted them by saying that len' called on Jay Gould yesterday, and coolly demanded that the cepitalise pay his way back te sconaaid. He described where Mr. Gould's office was in the Western Inaione building accurately. "How did you manage to see Mr. Gould?' asked the Commercial Advertiser reporter., "I asked the men in the office if I could, see Mr. Gould," he replied, "and they said, no. I saw a door with •Private 'on it, and I thought perhaps Mi, Gould might he there, so I walked in. „I saw it man with o gray and black beard sitting in a chair, and I walked up to him and said, 'They tell me: you are Mr. Gould.' He said, That'srighthe and I said, Well,' I want to go back home to Scotland, and I have been travelling all over this country on your trains, and X_ want you to pay my passage back to Glaso- gow.' • "Then I toln Mr. Gould where I heel travelled since I left home. He listen and there were two young men and it boy in the office that looked like him, 'and the listened, and one he called George °That's it meat boy, pap.' Mr. Gould. told me he would not give me money to buy a ticket, but for me to go and get a pence - man and he would give the policeman the money to send me back. Then I walked up the street and was arrested. You see those boots? Frank Jamesethe brother of Juese JEunes, gave 'em to xne itt Dallas, Texas. • "Why did you leave home 2" "My father and mother are dead and may stepmother told me to get out, so I went from Edinburgh to Glasgow and from there to Liverpool, and from there to 1.ondorte and from London back to Liverpool, a.ndi stowed away on the Arizona. I didn't have anything to eat for three days, and when I came on deck thee captain woad. not give me anything to eat. So I witechel when the cook's back was turned and prigged meal. The stokers told me if showed up when vre got to New York that the officials would seed me back'so I hid and got off ab • bhe dock. 1 stayed around for awhile and then went travelling. I went first to Boston, • then back to New York, then to New Brunewick, Trenton, Philadel- phia, Lancaster, Harrisburgh, Belwood, Colesport'Lajos, Meetings, Palma:tawny, Merchants, Bradford, Kirzana Bridge, Sal- amanca, Chicago, St. Louis, Texarkana, Dallas, Fort Worth, Colorado City, Abeline, Beemd, Newton, Kaneas City, Indianapolise Cleveland, Ashtabula, Erie; Westfield, Buffalo, Rochester, Albany, and got here again a week ago. First I rens on way' trains, but they put me off at every station, • so then I got on expresses." • The boy told Justice Kelly his tale and said he did not want to go to jail. Justice nt, Kelly decided that with half it chance he could get along, and Committed him to the care of the Children's Society, for them to secure a position for him—Hew York Ad- vertiser • A Teri Old Bible. Probably the oldest Biblo in Philadelphia. lies upon the book -shelf of Hugo Roeger, 2,560 Geiser street. The rare old tome was printed in Wittenberg, Germany, by Ranee Stufft in 1577, just it little over 30 years after the death of Martin Luther. Only the books of the Old Testament have hems spared by Father Time, but these are set forth in good old German print, with elab- orate illustrations. The record of its varied fortunes is insceibed upon its pages, where appear the signatures of the differenk owners through whose hands it has passed,. As the firsb Bible printed in the German, language was issued only about 1540, thia old script is undoubtedly one of the earliest Bibles. Not gore Engineering. Buffalo News: An engineer enteringe tunnel near New York, it which "no signal light could be seen, was asked what he was going to do for safety, and he replied e "Ring the bell and trust to God." Some day there will be a grand smash-up in that tunnel, and then it will be seen that Christ- ian Science, when appliel to railroading, won't do. —Of all the birds that please us with their lay, the hen is the most popular. Sixty-six thousand men, women and children form the population of •Iceland. All these good people aro now in a state of great excitement through having murder to deal with, the fire, to occur among them for the last 15 years. A venueh man killed his sweetheart. t, u ust Flo v ter? Perhaps you do not believe these statements concerning Green's Au- gust Flower. Well, we can't mate you. We can't force conviction in-' ° to your head or med- Doubting kine in to yo ur' throat. We don't Thotrnas. want to. The money is yottrs, and the misery is yours; and until you are willing to believe,and spend the one for the relief of the other, they will stay 80. John a Foster, I t2Z l3rown Street, Philadelphia, says: "My wife it a little Scotch woman, thirty years of age and of a naturally delicate disposition. For five or six years past she has be'en suffering from Dyspepsia. She Vomit became so bad at last that she could not sit Every Meal. dowti to a meal but she had to vomit it as soon as she had eaten it. 'TI,vo bottles of your August Flower have cured her, after many doctors failed. She can now cat anything, and enjoy' it; and as for Dyspepsia, she does not know that she ever had it." 44