The Herald, 1910-07-29, Page 7The old clerk .obeyed, and Christine
Errington entered. the room in which her
husband had so often' been. Morley
rose with a deeply respectful salute, but
he saw that sne gave him..a searching
look.
"1 owe you an apology madame, for
the liberty I have taken," he said, draw-
ing forward the easy chair. "And I fear
that my letter must have surprised
you," "a
"Very much, Mr. Morley, I admit," sle
said, quietly, as she took the offered.
seat, "since presumably we were un-
known quantities to each other; but the
world. is very small, after all."
. "Very, Mrs. Errington. You may,
though, have j'bst heaxd my name drop-
ped by one or two of the careless young
fellows you have met in society.'
"Possibly," said Christine, coolly, meet-
ing his gaze; ."but I can not think how
your knew of my existence."
The money -lender smiled.
'"Of your existence in: an impersonal
sort of way I knew months ago; but I
found out for myself only quite lately
that Mrs. Errington was the personality
I wanted. I first saw you among a rid-
ing party that came from Nest Hill
House. • I was at an upper window of
the inn where you all stopped."
She went very white, and leaned back,
but she said nothing.
"I easily learned that you were a lady
living in Dr. Clifford's family in a post
of trust."
"I have left that post," interrupted
Christine, quickly. I left last evening."
"Left it!" exclaimed the money -lend-
er, taken aback. "Good heavens! why?
Does—do your friends know of this?"
"Pardon me," she said, haughtily, "I
have no friends; and my leaving is my
own concern."
"No friends! You are young to say
that."
"None to whom I am accountable, Mr.
Morley. Doctor Clifford did not wish me
to go." . e
The money -lender leaned forward,
resting his arm on the table beside him
as he said, slowly:
"You say you have no friends. But is
there not one man in the world who is
more to you than all the world beside?
for whom you would shed your life's
blood drop by drop?"
"Mr. Morley," that proud blood
rushed to her cheek and her eyes flash-
ed, but there was fear in their depths,
dread in her throbbing heart, "you
are taking a strange liberty."
"I know it; yet I must say more, and
trust for pardon presently. I know that
the roan you so carp for is the one who,
at ,that inn I. spoke of, helped you ,to
dismount, and called you then I could
hear him—`his darling—his Chris-
tine!"
hris-tine!"
"No," .she said, gently, deeply moved
by the old man's manner and the pathos
underlying all he had said—and ie not.
the aurrest way to e woman's . heart
through the man she loves e—"not be-
fore he left me, but no whe has told me
all about you—`Ken Morley,' as he calls
you; but I had no idea, when lately I
Aerate, and, even for n time sink deeper
in the surging aid's, I. must etanu firm
againsthis persuasions' and my own
heart; if 1 fling Myself into the tide
with him, we must both be drowned.",�
You are right tea thousand times.
exclaimed the money' idcr, striking itis;
hand on the table; "yen women always
are on rnoralou riboth whet van
1
do to Help y
saki ?"
"Nothing, generous, kind friend," she
said, husloily, turning half aside.
"Nonsense, child -•--there is something;
yon cannot' refer to Doctor Clifford.
flow are you to get employment .aite.
live?"•
met him one night in Nest Hill Park, "Dear Mr. Nforley, 1 can get employ -
that he. had told you he, was married," went again, and 1 have'plenty of money.
"Ah, will you let me tell you then by me to last a good time; but at pre.
e.actl Chow that was before I venture sent 1 paean to remain free in lodgings,
y for Falconer's sake."
"rem! I suppose if, your funds run
out you would ,ask 'yotir husband for
money?" said Morley, .Hokin down.
"No. I will not . toueli gamblers'
gold!"
He had expected that answer.
"You will take mine, then!" he said.
abruptly, and lifting his eyes sharply
to hers.
She colored painfully.
"You are very kind, but I will never
borrow—nor have I security at . all."
"I want none; that"is not my mean-
ing," said Kenton Marley, rising, and
cawing to where she stood "When your
funds are run low you must come to
me, old Ken. •Morley, "Promise me?"
"Mr. Morley, I cannot, indeed, I--"
He laid his hand"'en her arm.
"My' deai-, .nothing is done without
money, and if .it pleases me to give my
handsome sinner's noble wife the means.
to keep free for his sake, that is my
busines. I've .plentygot by fair cem-
tnercial speculation, too; and if 1 am a
hard old money -lender, 1 never was a
miser."
"Ah! don't say `hard'!" exclaimed
Christine, impetuously; "it's not true of
yourself; we know that."
"Your promise Mrs.. Errington. I am
an obstinate old fellow," said Ken,
smiling—a, smile that lighted up the
rugged face.
She toot: the hand from her arm and
kissed., it impulsively..
"I will come to you if I am in any
need, then."
"You promise that,',miud."
"I promise."
"Thank you! Ah! any dear, thank you.
Now tell me your address."
She gave it. No. 4 henry street,
Bloomsbury, and Morley wrote it down.
"One thing more, by the bye," he said,
as she prepared to take leave; "is Chris-
tine your only name?"
. "No," she said, looking surprised. "1
am called Christine Leonora—the latter
is my mother's name"
`)Ah! the mother for whose act you
are suffering, poor child! Well, good-
bye"—he clasped the little hand closely.
sill'There are better dans to conte, 1 hope,
,Sot- you and yesiis Uy ti .
further? said Morley. "It was after
the Derby day, when he came to pay
me off five thousand pounds; and I
think, my dear, we both thoroughly
understood each, other 'in that inter-
view." -
"Tell me all, then, dear Mr. 'Morley
—kind, tree friend indeed," Christine
said, earnestly.
She never spoke or interrupted the
money -lender's story of that interview
when he had so •entirely won Falconer's
confidence, and when his deep voice
ceased, only said, softly:
"Thank you."
There was u short silence; then Mor-
ley said:
"Forgive me, but was your meeting
St. Maur the cause of your leaving Dr.
Clifford?"
She told him yes, and how it had hap-
pened, anxious to exonerate Falconer
from any blame.
"He does not even know yet that I
have left at all," she added, "and I shall
not tell him, the—the impression under
which 1 have left Dr. Clifford."
"But, dhild—child, why not have as-
serted that you were married?" said
Morley.
"I was afraid; he is so sharp, and I
feared that some after -word or suspi-
cion might perhaps put the match to
the right train. Remember, there is a'
jealous, silly girl in the background who,.
wh2n she fails to win attention from
Falconer, may, out of spite, hint that he
was the man who— No, no, it is better
as it is, Mr. Morley."
"Of course," said the money lender,
looking down. "There is no question-
1orgivo my plain speaking—that St.
Maur has wronged you terribly from
first to last—how much I can guess;
but, still, that is not the question naw,
I take it; you love hint, and have for-
given his sins, which are many—more,
you are struggling to save him from the
ruin before him, to reclaim the gambler
—you, poor child;" the gambler's wife;
and I—I only want to help you to that
end in every way I can."
"You, Mr. Morley!" Christine lifted
the white face sihe had dropped in her
hands, and looked at him. "You are
very kind to say that, because I believe
you mean it fully—I know you .do."
"Thank you, I do mean it—however,
it is a question which you and I will
have to talk over. One way I can see
plainly -if he goes on losing, and comes
to me, I shall let him have money, on
the old security, of course; it's no use
to drive him to desperation either by
that which lies in my hands or by an-
other way which lies in yours, and has,
I feel sure, already done so."
Her face changed, the passionate emo-
tions which the strong nature had kept.
under began to master complete con-
trol. • She got up and walked to the
end of the room-, then back, pausing at
the money lender's table. She knew what
he meant.
"Go on; how am T driving him to
desperation? And I am quite aware
that forfsome weeks
md.easrecklessl we all leas
town Falconer gambled. Y
ever ."
"I think, then, my dear," said. Morley,
with emphasis, "that if you mean to
keep your hold over that men and save
him, you must go back to him as he
Hants you to do; only you can make
him a home and keep the daily constant
influence over him—you are his wife,
you ought to live with him."
"On what terns, Mr. Morley?"
He looked at her, startled.
"On what terms?" he repeated. "I
don't quite take you."
"Don't you? No whisper even of Fal-
coner's marriage must reach Mr. Orde;
the disinheritance and utter ruin that
would follow would be the death to my
hopes of reclaiming him, the more that
his honor is involved as touching yoar
security. You know all this."
"Thoroughly, Mrs. St, ---Mrs.
ton."
"And," she went on, "if we live so
that those about us believe me to be
truly what.I ane, his wife, the secret can
not possibly long remain unknown to
Mr. Orde. If we live in such a manner
that the secret is kept, what then am I?
Heaven knows I would bear even tluit
terrible shadow of disgrace for'his dear
sake if the sacrifice could save him in-
stead of giving shine the death blow to
all hope, all effort. He is blinded now
by the tempest of passion; he can 'per-
suade himself that this will not be—
that he cn.n, will, shield me; but the mo-
ment 1 yield this fatal 'Step, he will see
it all; he will hate and despise himself
for his act; he will despise inc for sub-
mitting to the degradation of the posi-
tion; the will have won. me without the
price of vice laid•down; the incentive,
the prize 1 now bold . out, will be gone;
I should lose the hold. 1 have of his love
—his pure love—bi losing' the moral
force that I keep in my hands now. Do
'you understand me better, Mr. Morley?"
"1 think I do, my dear—I think I do;
but, then, how was it.ycars ago?"
Ahl said ,Christine, wit)). a quick -
drawn breath of intense pain, "that was
where, in my' youth and ignorance, • 1
made such a terrible mistake, and. lost
him. 1, should be Mad, indeed, with my
bitter experience, to repeat that Mis-
take, ,and meet the same failure, No,
Mr Morley, though' my refusal at pres- arts; but it is a fact that She met some
ent maddens ,him, makes hits more dos; man after midnight in your park; I saw
The woman, woman-like, rose to the
occasion, desperate in the emergency.
"Well," she said, with splendid au-
dacity, "and what then? Is it strange
that two people should love who have
met often for weeks, and beeir a month
under one roof?"
"No, not strange," said Morley, with
iutense admiration in his eyes, but
maintaining the same manner still, "if
it were the fact; but I know that years
ago you were in Monte Carlo with Fal-
coner St. Maur."
She sprung to her feet in a blaze of
haughty passion and fear. What did he
know? Was he trying to force her, for
shame's sake, into admissions she was
pledged to guard?
"Who has dared to say that to you?
And by what right do you presume to
question my relations, past or present,
with Falconer St, Maur?"
Keaton Morley gazed on her in a won-
dering admiration that was even re-
verential..
"Grand, noble hearted woman!" he
said. "Sooner than betray by a look the
secret that you believe will peril your
lover's rescue from moral ruin, you
brand yourself with a shame that is not
yours. Forgive ine for so cruelly testing
the length to which your .self-sacrificing
love for that man will go; and it has
no limit, I see, save honor itself."
She staggered back into her seat, put-
ting her hands out blindly, dizzily.
"Ah, Heaven above! what—what do
you mean?"
"That I know the whole truth from
that man's own lips," answered Mor-
ley.
or-
le "What truth?"
"That you are 'Falconer St. Maur's
wedded wife."
Oh, the sudden rieh glow of light that
leaped up into Iter eyes, into her whole
face, as she started half tip, her lips
parted!
"He told you that? Ah, thank Heaven
for that! You, at least, will not mis-
judge. And he must feel thathe can
trust you implicitly to tell you that."
"I think he does trust me as a real
friend," said, the money -lender, 'wwth a
deep, quiet earnestness that went to
the wife's heart, "as I am and will be.
Your husband told mne the whole sad
story—not in detail—of your marriage,
its secrecy, and what followed; But t
asked . him to say nothing to you till .I
gave leave, for, in fact; I meant to find
you out and speak to you myself. I am
a lonely, ohildless old man, Mrs. Er-'
rington, and I daresay a very eccentric
' , .one, but it is nevertheless a, simple
truth that I care very match for that
husband of yours, though, perhaps," he
Haid, with a. smile that brought a rich;
soft flush to her beautiful face, "you
will not wonder at that as much as he
does. I always liked him, and I knew
him before yott did, my dear, though
I dare say you never .heard my name till
the lett few months since you met
again.
her myself from a window; and when
[la rile tttollo Asked fur an explanation,
she 'refused any at all."
"Whore has sire gone to? ,What is
her address?"'said Helms, abruptly,'
"l'nt':sure 1 ,don'ts lanow!" declared
1'.l,,nell:e, angry and uineotnfortable' at
>
:1Mis. • Addison's whole, reception of the
7 LIFE A NIGHTMARE
"Don't you? Well, the dear, good
doctor and elimie will know; they
wouldn't turn their backs ori"anybody,
muds less teat poor young thing, whom
it was impossible to help loving. Ah!
here they are!"
She sprung up excitedly as the door
opened, and met Dr. andMiss Clifford;
and after a Warm greeting and: explana-
tion of her presence in town, she went
straight to the point. Blanche told her
so-and-so; was it a mistake, and where
was dear Mrs, Errington?
W stat a loon the doctor gave Itis
niece! Then quickly, turned. to Helen,'
and in a few words told her the truth in
outline—only, of Bourse, adding entphati-
t:ally that Christine bad preferred to,
leave; it was not his wish at all. He
and Mimie had gone with her to her
present lodgings at 4 Henry street,
Bloomsbury, end 'should. see her again
before they left town.
"So shall I, most certainly," said Mrs.
Addison, with teats in her eyes. "It is
a very, very sorrowful story site could
tell, 1 fear ane, and an old ono enough,
too She has done no wrone "
Erring -
"You are a Blear, staunch creature!"
exclaimed Mimic. "And; oh! we do miss
her so terribly, father and I! If she
would only come back!"
But that was beyond hope:
Mrs. Addison left directly after lunch-
eon, and drove straight to the address
given her, and asked for Mrs. Erring-
ton.
She was shown into a fair-sized, well -
furnished drawing room, and she heard
the servant ap at the door of the back
room, and say:
"A lady for you, ma'am."
.A. minute after Christine came in.
"Mrs, Addison! you here?" she ex•
claimed, coming forward.
But, to her utter surprise and distress,
• Helen fairly threw herself upon her and
burst into tears.
"Oh, my poor darling! why didn't you
come to me? flow could she—little
viper—spy?" she cried, incoherently.
"She wanted to get rid of you because
she was jealot;s."
It was some minutes before she cann-
ed at all; and Falconer's wife, trembling
with intense fear, got from her what
she had. heard.
"1 didn't believe a word Blanche said,
dear," she ended, kissing the flushed,
half -averted Mee of her listener, "be-
cause she made you out to be bad, and
that the doctor had dismissed you inexpected. but 1 should have r eon July1st, I sailed from Liverpool
disgrace; his story was all the other _' ,, Tunisian
; ;�„ for Montreal, d,f
way; ass
come r•
yo�i
�
I lelpiess ad Broken Down, D.
Williams' Pink Pile Coins
to the Rescue.
He saw he enter tee hansom; calet�
luack, and, unlocking a drawer took out JJ
blue, legal -looking document, which
he read through carefully, pen in band.
"Yes," he muttered, "this will do; a
few legacies; and then half to eaeb n
them. I can fill in the blanks now
with the names."
The pen moved --one blank epee° in
the midst of the legal writing was filled
---"Falconer 'St. Maur," it wrote; the
second. wrote, "Christine Leonora St.
Maur, his wife."
Then Kenton Morley locked
document again.
"That will do," he seid.
up the
CHAPTER KZVIII.
Just a few days after that interview
—that is, about the end of the first
week in September—a brougham drove
up to the house in Hyde Park Gardens,
and out of it stepped Helen Addison.
"Is nobody at home?" she asked the
footman at the door. "Not off to
Folkestone yet, I hope?"
"No, ma'am, not for a few days. Miss
Leroy is at home, and I expect the
doctor and Miss Clifford in shortly to
luncheon."
He opened the breakfast room door,
announcing "Mrs. Addison," and Blanche
uniped up with effusive greeting.
eit"My dear Mrs. Addison, how charm-
ing to see you again! Farley you in
town now—passing through, T suppose?"
"Caged for a where week, I'm afraid,"
returned Helen. "Some horrid military
business brought my husband up, and
as we have a Kent visit of a week or
two to pay next week, I took pity on
him and came to town. Archer told 'me
'kat night you were all here, he thought,
so I've called, you see: All out, I hear,
but you?"
"Yes," replied Miss Leroy, enjoying
the delicious uncertainty of the next
question. "Uncle and Mimic 'will be in
to luncheon, so yon will e,ee them."•
"Thanks—and Mrs. 1 trington, too, I
hope. Is she not oat with theni.?"
Now for that glory of a jealous, spite-
ful woman—the exquisite pleasure of
traducing her rival.
Blanche pursed her mouth, looked
down, and said, mysteriously:
"She bus left us!-'
- "Left!" exclaimed Mrs. Addison, star-
ing aghast in bewilderment. `What do
yysti mean, J31annh,'? iV.lis. Errington
left, and so suddenly?"
Errington!" repeated Blanche,
with a sneer that brought the indignant
blood to, Helen's fair cheek. "It vas the
only thing she could do after her conduct
at Nest Hili.
"At my house—conduct! Whet does
all this mean, 131enehe? Mrs. Errington
is not the woman to be guilty of any
conduct deserving such innuendoes as
yours"
' `:Isn't she`?" retorted Miss Leroy, net-
tled, and even her fear of her•;uncle not
proof against her spicy. scandal. "You,
like t•he rest, Mrs. Addison, have been
fascinated and blinded hy that lady's
There are many who think anaemia
is a trouble confined to growing gi'•ls
and women, but this is not the ease.
Thousands of Men are anaemic, and
attribute their growing weakness to •
mental or physical overwork, or worry,
and who do not appear to realize that
they are swiftly passing into that eon -
clition known as general debility, and
that their trouble is due entirely to
the fact that their blood is watery and
impure. 1f the trouble is' not taken in
time, they pass from one stage to an-
other until the breakdown is complete,
and often until a cure is beyond. hope.
To men in all walks of life there is no
medicine so valuable as Dr. Williams'
Pink Pills. If you feel jaded, weak or
worn out these Pills will make that rich,
red blood that puts vim and energy in-
to- every portion of the body. Making
good blood is the mission of Dr. Wil -
Hants' fink Pills and good blood is the
one secret of good health and vigorous
life. An excellent case in point is that of
Mr, R. W. Ellis, of Balcarres, Sask., who
says: "Just four years ago I was in
England making preparations to 'fulfil
the long cherished - ambition of coming.
to Canada. My health at that time was
normal, though 1 was never very strong.
Three weeks before the time of my de-
parture 1 was overcome with a feeling
of general weakness and faintness which
rendered Hie so inert and lifeless that
my days were shrouded in gloom. Con-
sultation with a doctor brought ale no
consolation. Debility was my trouble,
and 1 was on the point of a breakdown.
`Canada in your condition means
death,' said the doctor. 'You must have
a complete rest! A rest, however, was
ut of the question,• a fortnight's holi-
day I had. and then back to earn my
daily bread. The next years were s ser-
ies of misery and despair, body and
brain undermined with a complaint the
doctor could only cell debility, but ap-
parently could not cure. Snatching holi-
days when I could I struggled on until
the opening of 1909, when completely
prostrated I was compelled to go to my -
parents and become a burden to them.
My life was simply an existence esti
friends said, behind my back, `consump-
tion:
"In April, 1909, I began taking Dr.
Williams' Pink Pills. Three months bit -
same, Christine—let me call
-erect her face—that beau-
roubled face—struggling
:ohs, for sometimes. when
red much, synpatlhy is
tr unmoved than harsh-
earted woman," she whis-
pere ,:go—leave ine, for your
own a. remI—I, ant a woman,
self-condi-ned, ashamed, and your hus-
band will be angry if you—"
"Angry --my husband`? Why, Frank
would never forgive ine if 1 turned my
back on any creature so enmity wronged
and d•'•rived as you must have been.
The moment we return from Kent. three
weeks hence. I shall carry you back with
us to Newt hill --don't shake your curly
head--"
(To be continued.)
If allowed to roam over your
hou:ro those innocent looking flies
may cause a real tragedy any day,
as they are known to be the prin-
cipal agents for the spread of
dysentery, typhoid ,fever, diph-
theria, tuberculosis and other in -
factious diseases. The remedy lies
in the free and persistent use of
Wilson's Fly Pads.
GENERAL BUTLER.
new life, energy and hope. In this great
country 1 am making good and I owe
it all to Dr. Williams' Pink Pills. In
three months they changed ine from -a
nervous wreck to a healthy man. When
doctors failed. they succeeded, 'and I hon-
estly believe• they saved my life."
You can procure this great health -giv-
ing medicine from any dealer or by
mail at 50 cents a box or six boxes for
$2.50, from The Dr. Williams' Medicine
Co., Brockville, Ont,
O'ce
270 -TON ROCK.
(Montreal Herald).
The death of General Sir William
Francis Butler brings to mind again
the deplorablt beginning of the South
African war, that graveyard of so many
gilded reputations. General Butler was
commander of the . British forces in
South Africa before the declaration of
war, and he told the War Office the
nature and magnitude of the task which
an attempt to bring the Boers under
subjection would involve. The War Of-
fice misunderstood his motives and ig-
nored his warnings. The lesson of the
ill-starred Jamescu Raid had been im-
perfectly learned. Lord Salisbury, back-
ed by a solid Tory phalanx, broadly
fringed with Jingoism, with an obstin-
aoy which with all his greatness was an
ineradicable trait of his character clung
to the War Office, and the position of
Butler, a gallant, clear-sighted and ex
perite ed soldier, became impossible.
4'
AN ORGAN AM 25 CENTS
We have on hand thirty-five organs,
taken in exchange on lieintznian Z; Co.
pianos, which we must sell regardless of
loss, to make room in our store. .Every
instrument hits peen thoroughly over-
hauled, and is guaranteed for five years,
and full amount will be aline ed on ex.
change. The prices rt.t from. $1O to $35,
for such well-known makes' as Thomas,
Dominion, Kern, Uxbridge, Godarich an,
Bell. This is your chance to save money.
A host card will bring 41111 particulars,-
Heinf zman & Co., 71 King street east,
H"am_lton,
Most of us would ratifier be eater-
rained than be entertaining.
'.Chis famous rocking stone is in the
Argentine Republic. it velghs 270
tons, and is so nicely poised that it
rocks in the wind and may be made
to crack a walnut, but it is so firm-
ly placed that it resisted the united
efforts of 1,000 horses that tried to
pull it down the hill.
Some Peculiar Pacts.
It is estimated that constantly some
three million people in the United
States are ill from preventable causes,
A new electricity heated bath or
lounging robe has woven into a fabric
7,000 feet of specially eonstrueted wire
to distribute current taken from a lamp
socket without danger of shotk or fire.
The importation of spirits, wines and
malt liquors as a whole made' their
highest record itt 1009, their value hav-
ing aggregated $x6.750,000 against less
than $10,000,000 in 1008 and $12,500,000
itt 1899.
The writer in Lake Van, in Asiatic
Turkey, which is about 60 miles long by
from 'LO to SO wide, is so strongly im-
pregnated with potash that the resi-
dents along its shores use it to wash
clothing without the use of soap.
1-2-3-4 Marmalade.
Carefully peel one pineapple and put
through the meat chpper. Weigh the
fruit and add three-fourths the weight
in sugar, with one cupful of water. Bring
slowly to a boil and simmer about 20
minutes or until the consistency of mar
roulade,Seal in glasses. ,