HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Herald, 1912-01-19, Page 6s
OR, THE MEMORY OF . A , BOY WITH
DARK EYES.
o CHAPTER VII.—(Gont'd) •
I offer you of, my abundance I am -
sea thinking how little pleasure or pm
ais abundance Wali be to me' heneefor-
rd. "I ask you, ate a favor to me, to
t etc ,lend you what is lying useless. to
e—if you will be so good."
I use the word "lend" advisedly, us
ore palatable to his pride than the
ord 'ugive. " fe looks at me, shame' and
'arrow and regret struggling in his face..
"Alfie," he exclaims passionately, "is it
can it really be true that you care for
n unfortunate; good-for-nothing, unluckY
retch like me?"
It is my turn to draw back now—miser-
bly; indignant.
Yea dare to say this to ane, Gerard
axter—to me?"
"Bute half an hour ago—five zcirrntes
go, you told me that you loved me," the
oy says. 'a light of passionate triumph
u his haggard eyes. "Eyen a woman can-
ot love one minute and Irate the next!"
"No," •I answer quietly; "I do not think.
hey can.'
He looks down into my eyes—looks, and
urns his head away.
Tothin& that I have lost you, Allle—
ou whom ,1 love better than all the
weal"
Hush!" I exclaim almost vindictively.
Think of the wretched child you have
arried! Do not male me despise you—
nd myself!"
Despise me! he echoes withthe quick
and laugh which is worse than a sob.
I .wonder what else you can clo?"
"I pity you; and, if you will let me.
elp lxou--as if you weft my own brother
I shall count it a kindners. And now
must go; they will be calling for me."
' To lead the revels," he says bitterly;
while I--"
My heart bleeds for him, as I look at
re strange, unyouthful expression ofhis
ce:' at his threadbare coat. If I had.
red, I would have offered him money;
t I do not dare.
You have spoiled the revels for me."
answer bitterly, in my turn; and, as
looks into my oyes, he seems to feel
at I' speak the truth, for his own cloud
ter.
"I was not worthy of yon, Allier he
vs brokenly. I have been justly pun-
hed, though my punishment is more
an I can bear.
You are young- Gerard—the world is he-
re you yet, • You shall make a fresh
art. Want of means shall not drag' ecu
own any more. You will be fana us,
nd I shall be—your friend."
He wrings nay hand, holding ills bead
own—the dark head that need to be
Pfd s0 high. •
"Do not offer me money, Alfie; 1 could
ever take money from von. iBut 1 will
ake a fresh start—I will work heu•i! !or
our sake, and some day or other we
ay be—friends."
They are his last words to nee.
« * «
* * *
"We have been looking for you c�tay'
here, into! They want you t-, give the
rices to the boys who have wen tht
see. Wha •Alfie have you an a ghost'?
is
�wllite as a slate, t!?' e :
•max.
;rm round -nee and drawing min amty
rem the melted group on the terrace, promises soon- to kip' equal to m- own;
Would you' rather somabaty else gave but that makes no difference.^• Woodhay
way the prizes, dear? f our 7 r cle Tod
-
ould do it just as well."
Oh, I'll do it!" I answer feverishly. ''I
vant something to de—I am tired.'
Olive leads me into the house. The
xcitement has been too mneh for roe—
o everybody says. Olive takes off my
at and puts pre on to the sofa, and I
ie there quite quietly, holding her hand.
he fete goes on merrily. I hear the
usie and the dancing; it seems to come
and go curiously, swelling and dying
away.
"Shut it out!"' I say wearily. "Shot the
window, Olive. I am tired of listening to
hat river, and the sunshine dazzles ane.
And give me that sheet of music—I know
Madame Cronhchn is waiting for me to
sing."
red:"Olive ' says, faittiak`her
heavy' mornai<ri"'a of .crimson velvet, to the
panelled wail, ,to the oil -painting ai�oye
the paneling -a chorus of radlantly-
beautiful cherub heads whose rosy. cheeks
are only a shade • less:roe§:than"the hea-
ven which forms their background. I
am studying this last as if too were an
unfamiliar thing, when the rustle of a
newspaper at the other and of the room
attracts my attention. I move my head
languidly, burning down the corner of
the pillow with my hand. Ronald Scott
is sitting in the great red velvet chair..
by the window, reading, I have made
no sound in turning my head. and • he.
does not look round. And calmly and
Bravely I study him, as I have studied
the ,with
thercold, unintein rested, almostoindif
indif-
ferent eyes.
I know his face very well. Ire was at
t he, vicarage when I first came down-
stairs -had been staying there for. more
than a fortnight. He is my cousin; his
father and my father were first cousins
—but I had never seen him before. Uncle
Tod ,Tied met him as a lad, before he
went to India, and had taken a fancy
to him. And, hearing that, he had come
back to Englandfora year's.holiday, he
had written to invite him down to the
vicarage, promising him the shooting of
as many of my grouse and woodcock—
and. T believe my hares and pheasants—
as he chose to demolish. Be had not come
down till I had begun to mend—the in-
vitation had been given before I fell ill
—and he does not seem to find life at Yet -
tendon Vicarage dull, or to have grown
tired of shooting over my lands, or cross-
ing the brown brook to pay us a visit
here at Woodhay,' to which I have come
for change of air with Olive Aunt Rosa
dividing her time impartially between
the two houses, but being nominally on a
visit with me.
Studying hie face thus at my leisure, I
try' to fancy what I would think of Ron-
ald Scott if I had never seen him be-
fore. It is a plain face, thin and brown,
with a drooping brown mustache—a ra-
ther stern face, as of one who has con-
quered in the fight. Uncle Tod told me.
when he heard of his coming home on
leave, that Ronald Scott was a hard-
working fellow,.. and would soon be at the
top of the, tree. I remember quite well
hearing of his going out to India, with
very little interest and no capital, near-
ly twelve years ago, and what a it
• on the be
ring ofgthe his
Even then I had wondered if he wished
there were no such person'in existence
as the little wild girl at Yattenden Vic-
arage. It seemed hard that he should
have inherited nothing but the eueet
title—sometimes I wished my father had
not left Woodhay to me, but to him. But
Woodhay was not entailed,,and my ra-
ther cared for no one but mc.. Neverthe-
less, as a child, I had often thought of
my cousin, Sir Ronald Scott—wondered
what he was like—and even made up my
mind to marry him some day, and so
repair the injury I had unconsciously
done him. Now, as I Iie among my vel-
vet cushions soberly regarding him. I
ieethink me, of the resolution I baro _come
to laLoiv^°'of Itia<vintr: a���s �...,
'Or when old Women: "tell .children they,:
will soon cry, because they are laughing
so much!" he adde, shrugging hie •slum),
dere..
"That in another case iu point,"
"'I don't think you are merry enough
now to dread any misfortune following
on the skirts of your merriment?
I glance at him, displeased: This blown
eyed cousin of mine laughs at me, X; ;
do not like it.
"Yen will .. believe. me when we !fhear
some bad news perhaps!"
"I thought we were to have ridden Vaud;
day, Rosalie.' A gallop across the mem,.
would do away with a. great many of.
your. previsions." •
'"I felt . so tired, I did not care to ride.";
I look into the garden again •indiifer-
eptly.. I wonder what Ronald Scott:thinks
of . me? I know my want of interest in
*everything ; :puzzles him a little—be cam,
not imagine •why„ ° do not. take any plea
euro is' my woods,- my `, meadows..- myi
horses, my doge, and my beautiful old
house. Certainly I have been ill, but I
am well now—so well that I have been,
on horseback several tunes, and have
driven Olive and myself all. about Tit,'
tendon in my basket -phaeton. But people
say my illness has changed me very,
much; my face looks haggard, there are
dark shadows under , my eyes. Nobody
knows what I suffer; through all my
wanderints I have never mentioned Ger-
ard ,Baxter's
erard.Baxter's name. I am surprised that
I did not, be' is never out of my thoughts
I have never heard of him since that
day when we said good-bye to, each other
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2Se, a bo Sc1 Y e n and 4 tW
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"Do you like Olive?" I ask quickly.
glancing round at him- '.
t'Qr do you like her too well to wish to
,see' her married, to me?"
}'I think you are too'late to try for
'O^lv_e," I say, shaking •my head.
ou would nut advise me to outer the
li
ie against Lockhart?" he asys, smil-
inE:
-rt1,'I think Olive likes him—a-little.
she is such;a madcap—what she likes
day she hates the next.
in m leafy combo -not Dna single .words "'then, if she likes Lockhart to -day,
I donotknow whether he Is dead or 1there may be some chance for loo to•
morrow.'
alive—Olive does not know. She has
never spoken of him since that morning
she told me all she know about him as
we Dame through my wood. I do not
think she suspects anything—she never
thought 1 eared for him; but, if elle-had'
heard anything about him, she would
have been .sure to tell me.
Ronald Scott has been very good to me
in a brotherly kind of way—he and Olive
treat me very ranch like a spoiled. child
—sometimes I suspect he thinks me. any
thing but an agreeable kind of person.
I wonder if he ever cared for anybody
himself—if he cares for anybody now. It
would be impossible to tell from that
grave
ewhorwould have£ten fancy he is a
"Two soul -sides, one to face the world
with
And one to show a woman when he loved
ber"
"Cousin Ronald,' I ask suddenly. with-
out turning. my heed. "have yon any
sweetheart in England?"
"Why do you ask, Couein Roralie?"
"Because I want to know, I suppose."
"But I may not care to have you know
that I am sweethcartlerr•."
"Then you have none?"
"Have you one in your eye for me?
"I snnpcse you came back for a .wife,
cousin?"
"Why do you suppose so?"
"You are a Yankee for answering ques-
tions with questions! rimmed, when an
Indian judge comes . back to England,
everybody ]snows he comes back to look
for a wife."
"Then everybody is wrong, so far as S
am concerned."
-Because you know where to find her?"
'"Because I did not come home on any
such quest, Cousin Rerfali0." ••
"Upon your word?"
"Upon my honor!" he laughs, looking
around at me. "Why, cousin, . I never
thought you had a turn for match -mak -
big!'
I never thought so either, But I know.
plenty of nice girls—Editor Deane and
Ado, Rolleston and Katie."
"Why do you leave out your own par,
tieulax friend?"
p. when I 'die.
CHAPTER VIII.
How eoftly the sunshine dreams along
the terrace—how bright the flower -garden
oolts, seen from the shadowy room! I
have been asleep, I think; the light slants
more from the west than it diet when
Olive left me here to rest for a little,
while she went out with Mr. Lockhart to
play tennis after luncheon.
The warns August air comes in through
the open window; without turning my
head, I can feel it breathing balmily on
mo cheek. There are two windows to
this quaint long drawing room of mine,
one looking across the terrace in the limy-
er garden, the other into the tennis -
courts. My sofa is near the ixerden vvin-
dow, which Olive hes elesed. But throaele
the small old-fasbiorOed panes in their
leaden setting I can see my flowers blaz-
„tug in the eunshine, my pet 'peacock
eaerched on the stone balustrade, ray three
otowny lelack-faced pugs rolling over one
another on the smooth gravel, the bosky
teen of my woodland, and, far away. a
high blue hill, so 'faint with heat that it
eeems to lose its outline in the clouds.
I look at the mall dreamily, with a
eurimee kind of languid unconcern. It
ought to eo with thce ecott e, as as
gone for the last four or five hundrerl
years. This Anagnanimouu artangenient
fills me with no eorrow for myself as I
lie among my cushions studying his worn
Profile as it appears againet the sunny
square of open window beyond.
"You are awake: Rosalie!” Some oc-
cult influence has drawn his look toward
me. or perhape the magnetism of my own
steadfast gaze. Ile throws down the
newspaper and conies across the room.
"I hope you feel rested, cousin?"
"Oh. vee, thanks! Have I been long
asleep ?"
"I do not know—you were asleen when
I came in half an hour ago—at least, I
stumose so, for you were so quiet that I
never knew you wore in the room till
31183 Deane came to the window to warn
me in a whisper not to wake you."
"I thought you were playing temais?"
"X was playing; but I wanted. to read
that article Omit Indian affairs in to -
"Has Olive flubbed her game yet?"
I glance at the table where Diggs has
just deposited our afternoon tat -eves,.
"I wish nhe would come in and give us
some tea.
"Shall I go for her?"
"Oh, no; she will come when she is
"You will feel lonely without your
friend," he says, as Olire'S merry laugh
mimes in through. the open window. Olive
is going away to -morrow; Inner is not
stronge, and wants her at home.
"Yes, I answer, tears coming into my
eyee—I must be weak yet, or I should not
cry so readily. "They have Written for
her; I &all miss leer very much."
"You are going away yourself very
soon, aim you not?"
"They want me to go to, Monte Carlo;
but I don't care about it.'
"Yet am afreid you will 11nd this place
dull in winter.
"I never found Woodhay dull," I an -
is eot evenknees or lazieees—for my ewer, lookuig out of the window. "I never
etrength has quite come back to me, and lived here, to be stite—that I can remem-
I never was indolent—but a straege feel- ber; but, then, even as a, child, I wan
ipg of indifferenoe. which prompts me. to constantly coming and rang, and I loved
lie still on my pillows and look about
The shadows ereep round, followed by
the sunshine: the peacock hops down and
stalks away I know not, whither; my dogs
have curled themeelves up and gone te
sleep in the muusleine; a bee comes boom-
ing sealest the glass and away again;
a flight of crows (+ease the sky in the dis.
tanco; hear Olive's voiee counting her
tett:own ie wearing, away; and yet do
not stile •
There hes been hietus of six weeke
in my life; and. now that I am ge then,
nese again, it, ie with 'a curio -us nocota
cern. a, wetit of energy, ,whieli taettblek
Olive and 'Uncle Tod. 1 haVe been immeat
dea,th'e door that it' seem Wag if , I tearee-
lo eared. to take the trouble to mete beak
again—ae if 7 hail liereehow gait outman
the world's attraction, and, •were !loather
anart in some, dreamy znid-regioneient of
the reach of their sympathies. I feel as
anything, to feel aft interest in anythr,.
to eare r,o Tonne nryaele,,out Of the nearer
Of la»guid indifference tote which I have
fallen since that six weeks' fever. ont of
which they thought I would never have
The surdieht reeves' on—dies off the
terrnee—edidoa to the ton ef my beaks,
wood. The colors ,of the flowers in the
warden are not bo riot) now a+ the cost-
oktrros let iota the limner pent el the
eteg's heed ebOve the elliehl with its
lierron who
it bet,,er than any ot er place in the
"It is a line old place," he says, follow-
ing nly look; "allY Ono might well be fond
of it.
I glance at his face: but it is perfect-
ly unconscious—entirely tree from hat-
red, envy, or any uuehaeitableness. Ile
'Meeks of Woodhaee Just as he might Of
any of the neighboring places—the ToWeru
of Dunstiodle.
"I think one always eares for one's own
property; very few petiole hate the place
where they were born,'
"Very few," he agrees readily. "No mat-
ter how well people get on in India or
or later, to igo home.' lnot ono man in
a hundred would be satisfied to die in
a foreign country."
"Not oven a Chinaman!" I laugh.
has lout caste. But they never do go
home; if a, Chinaman by anal chance
losee his pig -tail, he never goon home
again."
"Doesn't he?" I say, with nreeh inter -
I have risen from my sofa- and ani
later ding in the window. my betide claimed
rat the beck of MY neck, 017 oVes the
distant blue hill melting haSily into the
bluer sky. Ronald is standing in the
windew beside me, his hands in the pock-
ets of hie gray tvveed coat.
_ "1 feOT se if something were going to
any it wee a thunderritoile, if that sir',
did sot look so much more like wind.
"vet erz ono men," he exiewere,
"X should like• you and Olive to ea�c
for each other," I say dreamily. I like
her better than any other girl in the
world,'
•.'Then you must like me a little, to
wish to :bestow her upon,me."
"I .like you . very much, cousin. You
havebeen very kind. to .me."
!Rosalie, .do you like me well _ enough
to care what becomes of me?"
'How can you ask such a foolish qucu-
tiou?„
"As you said Suet now—because I want
to know."
"0f course I care. You are the only
ceusin.I flare—it is not as if I had half
a dozen,. or half score, like most .people."
"And you care for me with all the car-
ing that you might have divided among
heti a dozen, or, perhaps, half a score?'
do not answer.
'Rosalie, I did not mate back to Deg -
laud to look for a sweetheart—or a wife.
But do you think you could ever care
enough for me—at any fu.ture time—to
give me both?"
I turn my head now to look at him.
His grave eyes meet mine unwaveringly;
his head is a little bent as he looks in-
tentlyeinto my face.
"No, I answer, in the same grave'
matter-of-fact tone in which he has spo-
ken, without any change of color or ad-
ded pulsation of the heart. "I shall never
°are for any one, ROnalci—I do not intend
to gaarry any one. This peace ought to
-have been ereurs—at my death, it will be-
long to you."
'4.1U Your death!" he repeats, with a
shocked -look. "Why, cshild, I am ever
so many years older than you are!"
"Only ton. And, when one does not care
to live, it makes a great difference—"
"But you care to live! It is oniy some
morbid faneY You have taken into your
head—people often -take fanciee into their
heads when they have been ill."
"This is no fancy of mine—the stronger
I get, the more I seem to see how little
life is worth living!"
"But you have so much to live for; you
have everything your heart can desire'"
Have I? I do not answer hem, my care
are on the great pearly bank of cloud
whose fringes are slowly turning from
silver to gold in the light of the setting
(To be continued.)
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yielding 6 per cent. net, carrying our unqualified recom-
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-CANADA SECURITIES CORPORATION, LliiiITED
179 Jamas Street, Montreal. e •
easee
On.the Farm
rRi V'�'e�"1►%11✓�b1• wrsirtii�►�'C
ZEEP BARNYARDS CLEAN,
It. has always been a, source ',of
great' wonder to me how. any dairy-
roan can expect to produce.go d
milk when his cows are compelled w'
,,to wade through ntu'd and filth in,.
the ' barnyard, Writes, 'Mr. J. B.
ll Y. >
Lyon.
Even if the barn itself' is scrupu-
lously clean -which it cannot be if
the yards are muddy—the odor aris-
ing from the filthy barnyard will
offset all the efforts made to 'keep,
the milk clean when it comes from.
the cows.
There is no one solution to fit all.
barnyards. Each niust be' treated.
by itself and to meet the• conditions•
existing in it. If the yard is situ-
ated on a gentle slope, all ithat will.
be needed is tile drainage, placed.
about six feet apart. Tile will keep,
any barnyard perfectly dry,.but if
there is only an -occasional low place
in the yard the tiling -need not be
placed so close together.
In some yards a great deal of
broken. "rock, gravel, and coal; cin-
ders fire iiecesary •'to, keep the;
ground in good condition. If -the
e
ground is a black heavy soil it may
be kept reasonably dry by cover-
ing it with these materials. The
first. thing to be done is to remove
the top soil to a depth of at least,
six inches, then cover the ground
with the largest broken rock. This
may be in pieces of from -two to five
inches in diameter. Large pebbles
are excellent for this purpose • as
they allow the water to drain per-
fectly from the surface.
The layer of large rocks or stone
should be thoroughly tamped dower
with a heavy tamping iron or rolled
with a field roller.
The second layer should be a lit-
tle smaller and the third very fine
crushed stone. The last layer may
be mixed with cinders which make -
a hard surface and if it is properly
leveled off can after time easily be.
scraped with an iron or wooden
hoe.
C3,f course, the. ideal barnya`r'd is
one made of crushed rock and ce-
ment, but this is quite expensive
and is hardly necessary. With. a,
clean: dry yard surro�.rnan u;
dairy barn the milk c.,..
perfect condition as it is not, a
ficult matter to remove every pit•
titles of manure or mud from- the
yard every day.
I once saw in Pennsylvania a
dairy consisting of GO cows .where
the barnyard was as clean as the
floor of the barn itself. The floor
was cemented but the barnyard was
finished with crushed stone and cin-
ders, cement being mixed with the
top layer all well smoothed off. Two
men with a wooden scraper with a
surface about two feet pushing
them before them, cleaned up this
yard thoroughly in 30 minutes twice
a day. This was equal to two hours?
of one man's time, but the dairy-
man said he thought it time well
spent as he never could produce
milk absolutely free from odors un-
til he had fixed his barnyard as de-
scribed.
KEEP MILD, CLEAN. ..
Only those farmers who either
fail to profit by the lessons taught
in producing sanitary milk.: or who
have never:learned such• .lessons,
continue to milk in the old-fashion-
ed open pail, into which falls filth
from the cows' flanks and which al-
lows the milk to absorb all . the
odors that surround it.
By the use of sanitary milk pails
dirt can be kept out of the milk
and that is the main, thing. It
much easier to produce pure mi
by keeping the dirt out of it tha
to attempt to take it out after
has once fallen in.
But the sanitary milk pail aid
will not give us clean milk. T
cows must be thoroughly brush
every day; and their udders wash
and dried just before milking. :T
milking must be done in absolut
clean sheds or in the. open, Pref.
ably on a grass,plot, and the m
removed to . a, clean house, wh
it can be, quickly cooled.
One of these things ,is g
enough in its way, but .all must
observed if we produce an ail
We will give this beamtiful prize, fred
.1 all charge, to any girl or young lady
vho will sell 40 sets of our handeotrui
valentine, St. Patrick and other /me
male at 10 cents a set (six beautiful carob'
n each set).
The Extensina Bracelet is of rolled gold
eete, and fits any arm.
SPritl us your nume and we will s.end
eou tire cards. When sold send us the
34 and we will send you the brecelet.
cid rtes
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Sloppy, leaky wooden troughs,
or clean, durable Concrete ?
Wooden armqng trougns are about
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They are shoit4ived and require re-
placing every few years—not to mention
continual patchinglo keep them in repair.;
The best of tod cantiot withstand,
for long, constant, ,ampness and soaking.
Its tendency to oid decay soon shows
itself in leaht i4d.' stagnant pools of
water around tro 0.
, Contrast vi ii% -this the durability
cleanliness. and ' Vt",,11-ordered appearance
of Concrete,. '
The dampness which destroys lumber
only intensifies the strength and hardness
of Concrete.
You can impair a wooden trough with
comparatively little use; but it takes a
powerful explosive to put a Concrete water
tank out of business.
Which
is your choice—expense-producing Wood,
or money -saving Concrete?
We'd be glad to send a copy of our
book, "What the Farmer Can Do With
Concreie,"—Free---if you'll ask for it.
It tells the many uses of Concrete in plain,
simple language—tells how to make
Baena
Cisterns
Dairies
Dipping Tanks
Foundations
Fence Posts
Feedino Freers
Guttera
Hens, Nests
Hitching Posts
Horne Blocks
Poultry Houses
Rook Cellars
Silos •
Shelter Walls
Canada
c,C-zti Notional
Stables
Ste rs
Stalls •
Steps
Tanks
Troughs
Walks
Well Curbs
Ceinelat
Limited
Bank Building,
o.
tit