Loading...
HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Exeter Times, 1894-12-13, Page 6(litres t3onsure ptlon,Clougbs,Croup,Sore Tlxroat. Soldby Druggists on a Guarantee, 1asater WillSide, �oet 6 tbssffaor cr o -55 cents. g po$1.111,014et VITALIZER,. papa. T. S. Dawkins, Chattanooga, `1enn.,saxvp r papit Wtal/tree°SAVE.D NT' LIFE. ' e: ideritthebeatrefnedeforadebizitatedspetem ever =ed.'s. For Dyrepo eta Level" oir afedney' dble et eZeeie. Price ea et,s, ILOWS ICATAR R REMEDY. IIav'eyouCatarrh4 Trythl5Remedy. It 'will Tositively relieve and Cure you. Price 50 eta. his Injector for its successful treatment is furnished/We. Rantenber,ShUon^ettemedies a- "r•i<j:tV"-r'ctiaraantee'G -"fve satisfaction.. 001,10,014, LEGAL. H. DICKSON, Barrister, Soli _d. oitar of Supreme Court, Notary Public, Oouveyaneer. Commissioner, 4c Money to Loan. Omcefi anson'eBloolc, Exeter,. ki 11. COLLINS, 0 rrister, Solicitor, ConvoyanCer, Etc, EXETEli.,ONT. 97FiClE : Over O'Neil's Bank. t1LLIOT & ELLIOT, Barristers, Solicitors, Notaries Public, Conveyancers Bio, coo. ll.11tonety to Loan at Lowest Rates of Interest. OFFICE, - MAIN - STREET, EXETER. B. V. EttIOT- retzennrom lCI.I.rGT- MEDICAL `7V , BROWNING M. D., M, O U a P. fi Graduate Victoria Univers ty; office and residence, Dominion Lobo o tory .Exeter , R. RYNDMAN, coroner fort a e Oounty of Huron. (Moe, opp.,atto Carling Bros. store, Exeter. D 1'lS. ROLLINS & AMOS. Separate Offices. Residence same as former. ly, Andrew st. Offices: Spackman's building. Main st Dr Rollins' same as formerly. north door; Dr. Amos" same building, south door. J. A. ROLLINS, M- D., T. A. AMOS, M. D Exeter, Ont AUCTIONEERS. HARDY, LICENSED AC -O- J • denser for the County of Huron, Charges moderato. Exeter P. 0. L1 BOSSENBERRY, General Li- : e sensed Auctioneer Sales conducted leallparts. Satisfaotioaguarauteed. Charges moderato. HeneallP 0, Out. ENTRY EILBER Licensed Auc- tioneer for the Counties of Burow' and Mtadlesex . Sales conducted at mod- erate rates. Odice, at Past-orneo Ored. to Ont. ennemexameemmeramiecl MONEY TO LOAN. ()NEI TO LOAN AT 6 AND percent, $25.000 Private Funds, Best Loaning Companies repreeeuted. L. E. DICESON. Barrister. Exeter. SURVEYING. FRED W. FARNCO MB, Provincial Land Surveyor, au I Civil ENGfSN R_ m2'0_ 9f$ee, Upstairs, Samwell's Block, Exeter.Ont VETERINARY. Tennent& Tennent EXETER. ONT. Graduates of the Ontario Veterinary Oot lee. Orrick : One r,00r Snnth ofTown Hall, THE WATERLOO AllJTIML FIRE INSURANOEGO . EstablxsiiedCu 1883, (MAD OFFICE - WATERLOO, ONT. This Oompany has been over Twenty-ei¢h years in successful °peretioe in Western Ontario, and continues to insure against loss or Menge be Fire. lluildinzs, Merchandise afanutactortes and all other desoriptioas of iDnsurable property. Intending insurers have the option of insuring on the Premium Note or Cash System. During the past ten years this company has issued 57,093 Policies, covering property to the amount of •$40,872:038; and paid in losses atone 5709,752.00. Assets, 8I7e.100.00, consisting of Cash in Bank government Deposit and the unasses- sod Premium Notes on band and in fordo J.w.It Ar,ncn, lit D.. President; O Mt TAYLOR SNSecretary : J. 1;. (Irtnitss, Itor - CEIAS TELL, nspecAgent for Exeter and vicinity Care Sitlir HEADACHE and' Neuralgia in 24 /!!LUT.$ also Coated Tongue, Dizzi- ness, Biliousness, lain in the Side, Constipation, Torpid Liver, Bed Breath, to stay cured also regulate the bowels. VERY Nice ro inner. Pima e'? e3ciltra a7 Mato-' emir , Blessings of Brains. She :( P R Yeom lainin l ) Before we were married you used to bring me flowers almost every day; but now you never think of buying me even a bunch of violets." Seo allantl y '--" The pretty flower girls dont attract my attention so much as they used to." She--" Olt,'you darliii, 1 Never mind' an' really ure for flowers anyway."y �d tr y r , Neighborly Amenities. "Whyin th world don't you grease that lawn-nnwor of yours?" iiakod a ldy of her ,`text door neighbor's hired man. "4..lissf i told the not to till you hod your ' lamer tuned." answered the hired man. OMAN'S STORY, UIIA,PTER XI. A Woni'Alf WHO ItIXOTrri HAVE tOIIN T AFPX'. Gilbert Florestan, who came of age e. fes months before Robert Ifatrell's death, was still a bachelor. He eaw his twenty- eighth birthday approaching, and he eaw himself no nearer matrimony than when Ile was tweet. -one. His life in the inter- val had been eventful, and he felt older than his years. He had entered the dip- lomatio service under the best possible aurP ices, with family interest and oolleg- fate honors in hie favor. He had traveled muchr spent and had the brightest years of hia youth in vagrant diplomacy, pass- ing from one legation to another. He had loved, and he had suffered; and now, ab twenty-eight, having, as he believed,got beyond the passions and illusions of youth, he was established in Paris as an idler by profession, well looked upon iu the beat society of the dazzling capital, and not un- acquainted with the worst. He was not rich, as wealth is counted nowadays, when hardly any man under a millionaire presumesto consider himself comfortably off. He had bread and cheese ; that is to say, landed property which brought him, nominally, two thousand five hundred a year, actually, about seventeen hundred. He was not ambitious. He bad lost father and mother before he was fifteen years of age, and he had none but distant relations. The stimulus to effort which paternal pride and maternal love might have afforded was in his ease wanting. He had no sister to interest herself in his endeavors and to exult in his triumphs. He had no brother to rouse the spirit of emulation in his sluggish temperament. He told himself that he stood alone in the world, and that it mattered very little what became of him—that he might go his own way, whether to blessedness or to perdition, without hurting anybody but himself. This sense of isolation had tended toward cynicism. He saw the world in which he lived in its worst aspect, and cultivated a low opinion of his fellow -Mem His estimate of woman had been of the lowest, since one never -to -be -forgotten. April night in Florence, when, standing in a moonlit garden, he heard a woman's careless speech from an open window just above his head—speech which told him with ruthless unreserve that the woman he had worshiped as more than half a saint was an audacious and remorseless sinner. ' Never till that night had Gilbert Flores- tan deliberately listened to a conversation that was not meant for hie ear ; and on that night he stood beneath the window -sill for less than five minutes. He only waited long enough to be sure that he had not de- ceived himself—that the speech he had heard was not a delusion engendered of his own fevered brain. There, hidden amid the foliage of magnolia and orange, he stood and listened to the two who leaned upon the cushioned sill above him, looking dreamily out into the night. No, there was no illusion. Those words were real— silvery sweet, though to him they sounded like the hissing of Medusa's snakes. They told trim that the woman he was pursuing with all -confiding Iove was the mistress of another man—that if she were to yield to his prayers and marry him—a question which she was now debating with her lover —the marriage would be a simple matter of convenience, and the lover would not be the less beloved or the less favored. "For thee, carissimo, it would be always the same," said the silver voice ; and the music of the waltz in the adjoining ball- room seemed to take uji the strain. "Al- ways the same—always the same." Florestan waited to hear no more. He left the garden of the semi -royal villa, walked straight home to his lodgings in the Via Calmer, packed up the lady's Ietters— those cherished lettere, every one of which —from the tiniest note acknowledging a bouquet, to the longest and most romantic amplification of the old theme, " he loves me, he loves mo not"—be had treasured in a locked drawer, together with every ftower he had begged from the clusters she wore on her breast, every stray glove he had hoarded, and the dainty Cinderella slipper for which he had paid more than its weight in gold to her maid. He did not write her a letter. He would not stoop so low as to give any expression to his anger or his acorn. He had been deceived, that was all. The woman he loved had only existed in his imagination. The beautiful face and form which he had ignorantly worshiped belonged to quite a different kind of woman. Perhaps there was no such womau—out of a book—as the woman he had imagined, the woman of transparent soul and noble mind, the only woman he cared to win. " I know you ; good-bye." Those words were all the explanation or farewell which he deigned to send her. ' He wrote them in his bold strong hand upon a sheet of Bath post, and wrapped it round the packet of letters. Then he packed them in another sheet, and sealed thein with the seal which had been set upon so many an ardent outpouring of his passion• ate heart. Yes, he had loved her with all the fire and freshness of three-arid-twenty—with all the romantic fervor of a mind fed upon classic Greek and stepped in Italian poetry. He had come to Florence a roman do youth, he left Florence a blee-ee man of the world, - and yet now, five years after, in this bustl- ing cosmopolitan and distinctly modern Paris,tho very thought of those old palaces in whieh he had danced with her, those old gardens where they had sat in the twi• light and star -shine, moonlight and shadow, thrilled him with the bit• ter -sweet memory of a delusion that hadbeen dearer than all the realities of hie youth. He had not. been at Fountainhead, hit, birthplace by the river, except for a week or a fortnight at a time, Mime he came o ago and sold the meadows adjoining River Lawn to Rebore Hatrel'. But although he been livingabroad since he had eWtthe Hativoteitty, he had -never consented to let strangers inhabit the house in whieh his father and mother had lived and died, albeit agents had been desirous to find hint an " eligible tenant," The house remained shut up, in the care of his mother's faithful housekeeper, and he nephew, a heudy young man who helped in the gardens, where expenses had been oat down to the lowest level compatible with the preservation of the beauty of grounds which had been the chief delight of young Mrs. Florestan's life, A woman takes to a garden naturally, asa doeleling takes to water, and cherishes it, and watches .fit, and thinks about it as if it were a livaileg thing, The worship of flow- ers and shrubs is inherent in the female mind, and a woman who did not care for her garden would bo a monster. The house was old, as old as the'ludora, and it, was just one of those places whioh the modern millionaire would have ruth- lessly razed to the ground, or so altered, restored, enlarged, and beautified as to obliterate its every charm of age and pio- turesquenesa. Florestan was content to leave ib alone in all its subdued coloring, quaintness, and inconvenience of constrnc tion, telling of a civilization long past and of a life less pretenttous and more domes- tic. The gardens had all the grave beauty of an honorable old ag Very little money had been spent upon them ; but there had been taste and care from the beginning of things, when they who planned them had Lord Bacon's essay on gardens in their minds as a new thing, and had known Francis Bacon in the flesh, and talked with him of the trees and flowers he loved. Vagrant diplomacy had carried Gilbert Florestan very far from the old home in which his ancestors had dwelt from genera- tion to generation; but he kept the image of his birth -place in a oorner of his heart, and he would almost as soon have sold his heart's best blood asthe house in which his people had lived and died. Paris suited his cynical temper at eight - and -twenty; a city through which the whole civilized world passed and repassed; the vestibule of Europe, the playground of America; a city in which a man who only wanted to be a spectator of the life -drama could have ample opportunity to study the varieties of mankind, nationalities, profes sions, wealth, and penury, beauty, and burning. Mr. Florestan had a fourth floor in the Champs Elysees, an apartment which be spoke of jocosely as his sky -parlor. Nom- inally the fourth, it was practically the fifth floor, and the balcony commanded a bird's-eye view of the city, a vast panorama, of white walls and gray red roofs through which wound the serpentine coils of the dark -blue river. Although the rooms were so near the roof they were spacious and lofty, and were furnished with some taste, Florestan's own belongings—books, pictures, photo- graphs, bronzes, and curios—giving an air of comfort and individuality to the con- ventional Louis Seize suite of tapestried easy -chairs and sofas, ebony tables and cabinets. The rooms comprised an ante- room, where three large palms and a Turkish divan suggested Oriental luxury, and whioh served as a waiting -room for tradesmen and troublesome visitors of all kinds ; a library, where Florestan dined on the very rare oc- casions when he dined at home, a small smoking -room adjoining, ands spaoious bed room, with dressing and bathroom at- tached. Here Gilbert Florestan lived hie own life, received the few inti nate friends he cared about, and shut out all the great family of bores. In the p olite world of Paris he was known as a well-born Englishman whose commanding presence and handsome face were distinctly ornamental in any salon, and he was welcomed accordingly with Parisian effusion, which he knew meant very little. In the demi-monde he was known as a young man who had outlived his illusions ; and in that half world he was a more important figure than in the salt ns of the great. Ib must be owned that he had a preference for Bohemian soniety, with all its accidents and varieties, its brilliant reputations of to -day, its sudden disappear. ances of to -morrow, its frank revelations, its absence of all reserve. He painted cleverly, in a sketchy style, after the manner of the Impressionists, and he was very fond of art. Music and the drama had also an inexhaustible charm for him, and he loved those out-of-the-way nooks and corners of the art world where dwell the men and women whose talents have won but scanty appreciation from the greab public, and who have never been spoiled or Philistinized by large monetary rewards. "Directly an artist gets rich, there is a divine fire goes out of bim,"said Florestan. "All the spontaneity and the daring which made him great is paralyzed by the greed of gain. He no longer obeys the first impulses of his genius, the real inspiration, but he sits down to consider what will pay best; the thing, good or bad, true or false, which will bring him in the most solid cash. He strives no longer to realize his' ideal He studies the markets, and paints or writes, or composes for that. And so dins the divinity out of his art. His genius shudders, and flies the trader's studio: for once bitten with the dreire to make money, the artist sinks to the level of the trader. He is no better than the middleman with hia shop on the boulevard and his talent for reclamo." b'loreatazi reeu a lovelier cotnplexien or finer eyed ; but that whioh attracted him Most in the Spanish girl's face was her resemblance to the woman he had loved, the woman who. had deceived bine and well- nigh broken his heart, tie was interested in her at first olefin and he begged to be introduced to her and her loather. They received Iiim with cordiality, per- haps because he was the handsomest and most eriatooratio-looking man in anas- sembly where art was represented by long hair and well-worn drees•coats on the part of the men, and by ecoeutrie toilets and. picturesqueheada on the part of the women. Mine. Duturqum the giver of the party,wafi the wife of a nxueical man who had written a successful opera twenty years before, succeeded by several unsucoeesful onos,and who now made a somewhat scanty living by giving pianoforte lessons and publishing occasional compositions, whioh he fondly believed to be as good as Chopin's best work, but whioh were rarely played by anybody except his own pupils. Clever people, musical or otherwise,liked good-natured little Mme. Duturque's par- ties, and she did not inquire too closely into the auteoedents of any • well•maunered and pretty woman who sought her acquaint- ance, people were met in her salon who were not without histories, and whose past and present existence was in somewise mysterious. The Spanish beauty and her mother were accidental acquaintances, met at Boulonge- aur -Mer the previous summer. "Are they not charming ?" the little woman asked Florestan,while her husband, a grim -looking man, with a long, gaunt figure, after the manner of Don Quixote, a long, pale face and long gray hair, was crashing out one of his noisiest mazurkas,in whioh the tempo rubato prevailed to an agonizing extent. "They are of a very old Castilian fatally. A Quijada was secretary or something to Charles the Fifth, and I know that they are rich, though they live in a very simple style on a second floor in the Rue Saint Guillaume." "The young lady's diamonds look like. 'wealth, most assuredly," replied Florestan; "but how comes it that so lovely a woman, and not without a dot, should be unmar- ried at five or six -and -twenty ? She looks quite as old as that." "Oli,she has had offers and offers. She is tired of admiration and pursuit. Her mother has talked to me of the grand opportunities she has thrown away. She is cap icious—a spoiled child. She does what she likes, and her mother is too fond of her to oppose her in anything. They adore each other. It is a most touching spectacle to see them in their modest interior.' "The mother Looks as if she could bate as well as love," said Florestan ; "there are some resolute lines about those lips and that prominent chin." "Quito the patrician air, has she not ? and remarkably preserved too," said ma- dame, who was proud of her guests and their diamonds. It is not often such diamonds had appeared on the third floor of a boot- maker's shop in the Rue des Saints Peres. When the mazurka had finished in a tempest of double arpezgios and a volley of chords,Florestan contrived to get a little conversation with Mile. Quijada. Her manners were certainly distinguish- ed. She had a reposeful air that contrast- ed agreebly with the Parisian vivacity which Florestan knew by heart. Her voioe was deep -toned and full, and seemed just the one voice to harmonize with the dark and luminous eyes, the somewhat heavy features and marble complexion. She did not strike him as a brilliant or intellectual woman. She suggested astatue warmed into life,but only a dreamy and .',sanguorous life, which might at any hour fade again into marble. He had a shrewd suspicion that she was unhappy ; that the diamonds and the adoring mother did not altogether suffice for content. There was a pained look sometimes about the lovely, sensuous lips ; there was a droop in the sculptured eyelids which suggested weariness—weariness of life and of the world, perhaps, or it might be that self-contempt which springs from the consciousness of a false position. He was struck with her and interested in her, but she awakened no tender emotion in his breast, no thrill of passion in his veins. He could never love any woman who was like that woman. If ever love came to him again the divinity must wear a different shape, must be as unlike his false love as one woman can be unlike another. "I can not give parties like these pleas- ant gatherings of Madame Duturque's," said Mme. Quijada, by and by, when she was bidding him good -night, after he had ministered to her comfort by supplying her with a cup of very weak tea and a sugared biscuit; "my datghter and f live in a very secluded way. But we are always at home to a few intimate friends on a Thursday ' evening, and if you should ever care to drop in upon our seclusion we shall be charmed to see you." "Be sure, madame, that I shall not be slow to avail myself of that diatinguished privilege," replied Florestan ; and his reply meant more than such an answer usually means. His curiosity, his interest in the side scenes of life, were aroused by- these two women, in whose existence he scented one of those small social mysteries which he delighted to unravel. So beautiful and elegant a woman as Senorita Quijada would hardly waste her beauty and herjewels upon such a shabby salon as Mme. Duturque's, if she were free of more fashionable assem- blies. She was evidently outside the pale, and with that hankering after respectability which is the canker worm of the disre- putable, she had greedily accepted the unquestioning kindness of the music -mas- ter's wife. " What do you think of those two ?" asked a young portrait painter with whom Florestan was intimate, as the Spanish ladies left the salon. " I take them to be women with a his- tory." ,. Yes, and a dark one. Madame Du- turque is an angel of benevolence and simpli- city, and all her wandering lights are of the purest luster. She has entertained a good many demons unawares, and I fancy in Madame Quijada she has got hold of a very sulphurous specimen." The lady is handsome, end her manners are both dignified and refined," So are the manners of a Harpy, no doubt, when you meet one in evening -dress. T dare say Clytemnestra was a very elegant woman, and Shakespear'e Lady Macbeth is Dae of the politest persons in the world of poetry. I think I would an soon trust my life in a lonely Scotch castle with Lail Macbeth as on a; third floor in Paris with Madame Quijada, supposing that Madame Quijada had any motive for poisouing me," "You take a strong view,"said Florestan, smiling g at his inteneity. y ".I always take strong views. It is my trade to study the human nun tenanoo, and I have marts a particular study of Children Cry for Pitcher's. Ca$torit There is plenty of unrewarded talent in the great pity of Paris ; and among painters and composers who had never reached the monotonous tableland of financial ease, among journalists, poets, and vandevilliats, Gilbert Florestan found a little world which was Bohemian without being vicious, but which occasionally opened its doors to cer- tain stars of the demi-monde who would hardly have been received in the great houses of the Faubourg St. Germain, or the Faubourg St. Honore. It was at a musical evening on a third floor in the Rue des Saints Peres that Flores - tan met two women in whom he felt keenly interested at first sight, They were mother and daughter. The mother was distinguishe looking, and had onoe been handsome ; the daughter was eminently beautiful. He was told that they were Spaniards, natives of Madrid. The elder lady described herself s the widow of a general officer, Felix Daijada, who died when her only child, olores was an infant. She had migrated to Paris soon after her husband's death, and had lived there ever since. Mother and daughter were both dressed in blank, with Mt elegant simplicity whioh did not forbid the an of a neat del of valuable lace ; and Flerostan noted that the elder lady wore. :itamoud solitare earrings, and the younger o oollet necklace, which would not have xiisbaseemed the throat of a duehese. Nowhere,haro, however, r,could diamonds have siown to a greater advantage than on the ivo whiteneas of Mlle. Dolores di Quijada's ewan'ltke neck. Nowhere had these two c' lather and daughter.. '1'Ixo daughter 1,. a vietini--the mother is 4a devil of cunning and unscrupulous greed 1 Did you sec the diatuonds they wore ? Those are the i rrfoe of a worean'a soul, The daughter has been sold to the highest bidder, and the mother has been the hunks ster, That woman would do anything for gain," "I am sorry for Mademoiselle Quijada, if there is any truth in your supposition." "So stn I—sorry almost to tears. She is a stupid, beautiful creature, with very little more intellect than a butterfly ; but one is always sorry for beauty, trodden underfoot. She is a woman who might have been happy. Yes, I am sorry for her." Florestan lost no time in availing himself of Mine. Quijada'( invitation. He went to the Rue Saiut Guillaume' on the following Thursday evening, between eight ami, nine, very curious to see what kind of home the Spauiard and her daughter had made for themselves in the wilderness of Paris. The house in whioh they Jived was one of the oldest and possibly one of the largest in the old-fashioned street. It was assuredly one of the mast gloomy, a house with a stone courtyard, screened from the street by a high wall To enter the court after dark was like going into an abyss of gloom, through which a lighted window here and there shone faintly, muffled by curtains. For the most part the windows were closed by Venetian shutters through which no ray of lamp -light esoaped. The porter who answered Florestan's summons informed bin) that Mme, Quijada's door was on the left side of the second floor landing,, but vouchsafed no further attention, and he groped his way upward between the dim lamp -light in the vestibule and the still fainter light of a lamp on the first floor. The second floor had only the borrowed light from below, and he was but just able to distinguish the handle of the door belL He was surprised at the door being opened by • an elderly man in livery—a very sober livery—who had the air of an old retainer, and who conducted him through a lobby and anteroom to a spacious salon, where he found the two ladies seated, with a third who sab in a corner somewhat overshadowed by the protecting chimney-pieoe, a woman of any age be- tween twenty and forty, whose pale face and premature gray hair attracted Piore- stan's attention. Seldom, if ever had be seen a countenance which bore in its every line so striking an evidence of past sorrow. " That woman with .the iron -gray hair must have suffered as very few women are called upon to suffer," he told himself. The beautiful Dolores was seated on a sofa on the opposite side of the hearth, fanning herself with a 1.nguid grace which brought into play the beauty of her hand and the brilliancy of her diamond rings, and listening, or pretending to listen, to the animated talk of a man whom Florestan recognized as the celebrated journalist and novelist, Francois de Lom- erac. A petit crave of two -or three -and -twenty who sat on a pouf near the sofa, lost in admiration of the larly's beauty and the journalist's wit, completed the party. Mme. Quijada received him with much cordiality, Delores gave him the tips of her fiugers, and Lomerao accorded him a condescending nod. A man whos- last novel had taken Paris by storm could not be expected to put himself out of the way on account of a casual En>rlishman. Florestan took a chair near the lady in the shadowy corner, and then having talk- ed a few minutes with his hostess, gave himself up to the contemplation of the room. In his mind surroundings were always indicative of character, and he wanted to see what the nest would say of tile birds. The salon was furnished witb stern sim- plicity, and in a subdued style of decoration a.nd coloring that testified to the refine- ment of the person who had planned and arranged it. The Louis Seize arm -chairs and sofas were covered with old tar estry, in greenish and grayish tones, softened by age. They looked like furniture that had - been brought from some old family home in the country. There were three or four small tables, a secretaire in old walnut, an Indian screen, and several vases filled with choice flowers. Of those bibelots and chinoiseries that ornament the average drawing -room, there was no trace. Those choice flowers, which at this season must have been costly, were the only embellish- ment of the soinewhat somber furniture. Chief among them was a clustering mass of white lilac in a vase of richly glazed delf that looked like lapis -lazuli. "An affectation of simplicity with con- siderable expenditure in superfluities, such as hot -house flowers and diamonds," mused Florestan. "I wonder what it all means? and I wonder what she means?" he° added, looking at the pale, silent woman with the large soft eyes and iron -gray hair. It might be that Mme. Quijada saw his look, for she approached at this moment and introduced him to the silent lady,whom she described as her niece, Mlle. Marcet. "Louise is more than my niece, she is my adopted daughter," she said ; "her father and I were brought up together on a small estate in the neighborhood of Marseilles, and my niece here was born within sight of the Mediterranean." "Ah, that is the sea, and that is the sunny shore we Englishmen love as well as any spot of earth," said Florestan, address- ing himself more to the niece than to the aunt; but the younger woman took no notice of his speech. "Do you see any likeness between my daughter and her cousin, monsieur ?" ask- ed Mme. Quijada. "Yes, there is no doubt a likeness," answered Florestan ; " 1 can trace it in the form of the brow and in the expression of the eyes." He waited, looking at Mlle. Marcet with a friendly smile, expecting her to speak ; and then, keenly anxious to hear her voice, he asked her au unmeaning ques- tion'' "Are you fond of Paris, mademoiselle, or do you still regret the olive woods and pineolad bills of Provence ?" " I have never left off regretting them," she answered, in a subdued voice, that struck him as full of a vague pathos as if sorrow ha,d changed all the mayor tones to minor; "and yet it is so long since I saw them that they acorn almost like the memory of a dream." " And you have never been tempted to revisit the south ?" No, monsieur." "My poor Louie() does nob travel," interjected Mine. Quijada ; " she suffered nine years back from a serious illness which shattered her nervous system, She has boon obliged to lead a very tranquil life since then. She is our household fairy, the angel of the hearth, an admirable housewife, bat she Dares very little for the outer world. 11:teept for her morning walk, before we lazy people are up, or to hear an opera now and then, elm very rarely leaven home." (To 001o .vTIN nD. rJ0 U . for infants and Children. '+Castorbaiseowelladaptedtochildrenth at i recommend Mae superior to any prescription known to me."' II. A. Ancxsit, NI. D., 111 So. Oxford St., Brooklyn, N. Y. "The use of ' Castoria' is so universal and its merits so' well Imown that it seoma a work of supererogation to endorse it. Few are the. intelligent families who do not keep Castores within easy reach." (IARLos Lala. aw , D.k ., Late Pastor Bloomingdale Reformed, Church. Ca/Aorta cures Collo,. Constipations Sour Stomach, Diarrhoea. Eructation, Kills Worms, gives sleep, and promotes d% gcation, Without injurious medication, +' For several years I have recommended your' Castoria,,' and shall always continue Id do so as�it hOS invariably produced'Penedoiak results.. BDWXN F. PARDEN, N. D., "The Winthrop," 12,5111 Street and 7th, Ave., New York eyity: Tau. 0YsryaDR Coatraxr, 77 MURRAY STRszr,: Naw 'ream ACKG ffEURALGIA,PLEURISY,SCIATICA CURED EVERY TIME AID RHEUMATISM is THEN D.& L a MENTH OL PLASTER u sI"cD. 1. ¶11aei PN G letoo( uzdocls duty �ed tt ay a us Ilea t- to by ssesp£tezinaabe tOt wan eeae.v elm pEA qoi: S6'O tete Ideteel6d ee -oxo 1 tate( �-itea ageon- but o my heated herb b�ea tomed4ti3 1..ae. Yes I B•33-' 4'stet'' &eeb tb eo itooD teMagse sa wb idd•etfa 1 '5000 ea eOt asel WjvIttile5te- toantio4 tj1feetgabat iDt ,15 tazea.lesenee deem a as. snob 103. ruff $Z2, L .5 Ivo?, Oono O. Ont. 1- 6'�i;aYn 90 P'„'° ,. O l %' °pON p` ��,0vepgYOars �,g, !'1 e � ze 5u{{0 0pic1Y C'O�ozdoak abmen 8t��i {8 tt�LhavplXtwua aslabT�ttnea6� Gy,tys,,�ts as esaY � a1i t tzteCa pesos �1 d a tor ten a nD9Y'sM11t°nnalnt�'i�n�b amya5Du aFeytbet tbeeaotDe upcedzoY. on v coedzjDinye, et°mY u e °ted ob awe Sad s4be 90 mea li19e. bo Y'ut g tboit° t iy dtY Scales' chic, b tett was ititOtez cosoyit at aro z•° aIow. t ze o-1 to B. �Rffo asitia, 5a Ont, ec Have a Very Bad Cough, IT Are Suffering from LungTroubleS, CJ Have Lost Flesh through Illness, Are Threatened with Consumption. Remeriiber that the • 4.k4p4"'(/ „ IS WHAT YOU .tEQUIRE.. THE QUEENS HEALTH. She is a amen to Deep Melancholy—Great- ly Affected by the Death or the Czar. A despatch; from London says :—Court circles have been somewhat alarmed about the health of the Queen. For a few days before and after the death of the Czar, for whom she entertained the highest regard. her Majesty was a prey to deep melancholy, It was hoped that her return to Windsor, where there are more official and social distractions than at Balmoral, would. effect a beneficial change, but she is still depressed in spirits and does not seem to take her customary interest in the functions of the court. More- over, she is suffering from serious stillness in the joints, which limits her ex- ercise to carriage riding. • Frequently she has to be carried in a chair to and from her carriage. She will move to Osborne in a d s mas festivites there will shake off the gloom. Moving around usually has this effect on her Majesty, and if her health perntits she will go to Florence again early in the spring. Empress Eugenie will visit the Queen at Winedor Castle prior to her departure for Cape Martin, where she will spend the winter mounts. DISASTROUS AO IDENTa THE COMBINATION WRECKS PART OF THE "CITY OF HULL. -- w Four People [Gilled and a Score More Hn- jured by a Terrific Exploeien of Druz,. mite Demolished and XI new Damage Done—many of the Injured May Die - A despatch from Hull, Que., says :— Four men were killed, two fatally wounded and a score seriously injured by an explo- sion of dynamite on Tuesday. Fifty houses were wreaked and a great amount of dam- age done. tr At the corner of Duke and Wall seets a gang of laborers were at work cons.ruccng frame sewer. A temporary frae shanty in the few d• y , and it is hoped that the Christ- middle of the street was used as a reating- A Stuffed Emperor. One of the most remarkable stuffed skins on record was that of Valerian, Emperer of Rome, who was taken prisoner, and after- wards kept in chains by Sapor, Icing of Persia. He was either killed in a tumult or by order of his conqueror, who was per haps fearful of losing his valuable living. trophy, in the year 2130, The body of the dead Emperor was treated with no more delicacy than when it had held the spark of the living ono. It was skinned; the {hide, after being tanned, was stuffed, painted red, and suspended in the chief temple of the capital. It neatened there for many years, anti was the popular spec- tacle for holiday-makersand visitore from the country. But it was put to more im- portant ends than this; it was made a diplomatic engine of much significance and eflxoroncy. In after times it often happened that the Roman envoyeat the Persian court had Minn derstan dinge,inoreorless Orion, with the Government to which they were temporarily accredited. When these Am- bassadors from Rome grew arrogant in their demands, it was the custom to conduct them into the presence of the attffedskin of the old o <-Emperor. of R,ome, where they were asked If humility didnot become them at the sight of such a spectacio. "Ie ,Tittles a poet l`" "NO ; just hard What to•msrrow is to be hutnen wisdom times j couldn't raise enough money to have hia hair out." never, learns, ••• F`+ uripideb, place for the men and 'a storehe use for tools. This morning a boiler full of dynamite was placed upon the stove to thaw out. A wooden box was put on the top of the vessel to pre"ent sparks igniting the deadly explosive. The fire in the stove grew hot and* the box on top of the boiler caught' fire. Tel- esphore Seguin, foreman• of the gang, and Norbert Martin, a `workman, rushed to extinguish the flames. Fearing the shanty' 4' would burn down they poured buckets of water upon the box, they, all 'about the dangerous contents of the boiler under- neath. A brand fell into the boiler—hissed and sputtered for a moment and then 'one stick of dynamite caught. There t%as a roar as of a hundred cannon and a blinding sheet of flame leapt up and seemed to take the place of bhe building. Tho very earth trembled with the shock, and in all d irections flew deatbdeal.ing pieces of rock. Huge fragments of .stony , were torn from the earth and hurled far away. the little houses along the street swayed and brembled, then settled in heap of ruins. ' Around were spattered the bodies of four people, instantly stricken by death. Martin and Seguin were horribly disfigured. tt schoolboy who was passing was. crushed . to death by a flying tntesile, Atiother works man was blown almost to atoms. Prom all around earn the moans of the wounded: The street was literallystrown with injured, malty lying underneath the rooks which had struck them. .A hasty call suni.ntoned all the doctor/ of the city, and the wounded were oarei fly removpd to temporary hospitals. Allot the ho houses in the vieibitI wore damaged, and the injured people had to be conveyed quite a distance, TWO were vett': Berm l l ua curt acid the dodos cls nob titin Y , do r e k they can recover. Twonby more were injured in various ways,and many wili,bsar the marks t '.heir grove,