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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Herald, 1906-06-15, Page 7The E ` isest Thing OS TO [MSC R TO -OE ADULT A.TE;*, JAPAN TEA Allo) UEE CEYLOINO CREEDO TEA si Absolutely Pure Tea of the Highest P©ssib4e Quality. Lead Packets only, 40c, 50e, 60c, Por Lb. At Ali Grocers. HIGHEST AWARD ST. LOUIS, 1904. "Life and health are worth more than gold," said. Mme. Debrisay, cheerfully. "Nae ?loot, nae doot! Let life and health may be poverty struck, and not worth much" "Any way, life is given to us, and we must do the best we can with it," quoth Mme. Debrisay, who was privately won- dering what had become of Mona, as her usual hour for returning was over - past. "That's what few of us do," quoth Uncle Sandy, turning to his nephew. "I'd like to have a talk with ye the next time you conte up here; there are one or two matters I should wish you to consider." "My dear sir, if you wish to speak to Mr. Macalister, I will leave you to- gether!" "Not the day, not the day," said Unele Sandy. "I have no the strength to in- sist on anything." "I am wondering what keeps Mona," said Mme. Debrisay; "she ought to be here by this time." It was a Saturday afternoon, when Kenneth always got away from the city early. "There is her ring!" she exclaimed the next moment. "I'll go and see what kept her." It was a wet, chill afternoon, with wild gusts of wind. "Where have you been, my darlin'?" cried Mme. Debrisay, going into the bed- room, where she heard Mona moving about. "A very pleasant and unlook for re- <entre," returned Mona, who was taking off her damp out -door garments. "I was • coming away from Mrs. Churchill's when a lady who had just driven up to the door suddenly called me by my name. 'Don't you remember me, Mona?' It was Evelyn. She seemed so pleased to see me! She had only come up to town for a few days, and was going to write to me to come and see her, as she was very hurried. Oh, she was looking so well and happy! She asked me•to luncheon to -morrow. She, is at their town house in Hyde Park Gardens, and wants to leave a long tall?. She is just the same as ever, only nicer—at least she seemed so What a different world And he, too, must despise her! However, all that was irrevocable now. Yet she hoped. earnestly that Evelyn would be alone. She diel not wash to meet any of her former friends, or rath- er acquaintances, to be pitied and ques- tioned, however swilling and kind the mask they might put on. This was a contemptible weakness, she confessed to herself, but she could not raise herself above it. Her ladyship had just gone to lunch- eon, said the elegant gentleman who opened the door. Would she walk in? Mona was shown into a library at the back of the house, where Evelyn sat at a tete-a-tete with her husband. "So glad to see you, dear! Finistoun is obliged to go out, or we should have waited for you, and when we have got rid of him, we shall have such a nice long chat." "Very complimentary to me," said. Lord Finistoun, bowing and smiling good- humoredly. "Happy to renew my ac- quaintance with you, though I am afraid you do not remember me." "Yes, I remember you now," a quick blush passing over her face. She did well remember him. At the ball where she had first met Lisle, she had seen hien talking long to Lord Fin- istoun, and fancied they were speaking of herself. He (Lord Finistoun) was very like Kenneth Macalister, only older, bet- ter dressed, and less good-looking. He was tall and gaunt, but Evelyn was evi- dently satisfied with him. In a few minutes Mona felt quite at home. "And you are the naughty girl who riled every one .by rejecting your unfor- tunate financee," said Lord Finistoun, ashe helped her to some cold grouse. "It was too bad. really. You deserved to be shut up and fed on bread and water." "How very ill-bred of you, Finistoun, to mention it," cried his wife. "You have no discretion. I will not have Mona teased." "I beg pardon if I have offended; but I am sure Miss Joscelyn will forgive me. The poor fellow has gone under. The race -course and the clubs know him no more. You have a great deal to answer for." "He ought to be much obliged to me," she moves in from ours, dear Deb!" returned 7lfona, as lightly as she could. "Ah! widely different; but you don't "Perhaps; but then people seldom let that fret you, my dear, do you?" know what is good for them." "No, I don't fret. Yet I am ashamed. "A most ungallant speech. Pray re - to think how I regret that brilliant, member that Mona 'has changed her easy, abounding existence, where every- name. She has taken her uncle's." thing is fair and smooth, and neither ! "Quite right, if he is going to leave you roughness nor care come to irritate or his fortune. By what name, then, shall oppress." i I remember you in my prayers? "Ah! my darlin', there are plenty of j "My father's name was Craig, but my aching hearts under the smoothness, and poor grandmother always chose to call poor human nature groans and yearns me by my second Christian name" for what it can't get, all the same whe- I "And why does this rich old uncle their it's in n. poor twenty-five shilling a choose to live in such a remote region as week lodging or a marble palace." Westbourne Villas?" "If that is your opinion, Deb, why ' "I do not think he is rich, and he is were you so angry with me for break- only in London for a short time." ingwith Mr. Waring?" t "Oh, nonsense! He must be rich. "Well, dear, you see people must live, Make him take a house near us some - and as hearts ache, no matter what where. Every one will be pleased to see covers them—sackcloth or satin—you you again. Men do not adopt nieces might as well have satin, and a marble unless they can afford expensive luxur- hail." lJJ es "That is not a sufficient reason. I iruplrose that whatever your abstract con- viction may be, you gra-ap grandeur and wealth whenever you have a chance. I fear I am no wiser, dear, for all my ro- mantic talk, only I am greedier than you are, Deb—I wanted love as well as luxury." ' "Ab, then, didn't poor Waring give you lashin's of love??" "Perhaps; but if he could not create it in me, what good did his love do me?" "I am ashamed of your hard-hearted- ness, Mona. I expected better things of you." 'That is because you always overrated me," "Never mind. Just go up to your uncle; that wild Highlander has had him all to himself nearly the whole evening." * * * * u• "I 'assure you I ,ant not dull. First, because I am so busy; then because I have a very agreeable companion, Then we go often to concerts — some- times to theatres and even now and then to soirees, where, if there is net much elegance, you some- times ];ear exceedingly clever talk; but we—that is Madame Debrisay, gen- erally refuses. It eeets too much in dress and cab hire.":, "Is it possible. I.thought cabs were the most economical mode of getting about, Dearest Mona, I am so sorry for you. And. how Wonderfully well you look." "I am well and happy" "Nonsense, dear. I tell you what, you must come and stay 'with us. I don't care what they say at home, and I will give you some ince dresses." "No, no, Evelyn. I. have left your sphere forever. I am riot ungrateful to you. You are a kind, generous soul; .but I have thrown in my lot with the work- ers, and I can't serve fashion and mam- mon. I must earn any bread." "It sounds quite awful. I shall per- suade you to come to me yet. Do tell me what the uncle is like." "Well, he is an ugly, little old man, not too pleasant in temper, and in very indifferent health. He talks like the peo- ple in Sir Walter Scott's novels, and he tries to convert me to Presbyterianism." "What a fearful combination. He must have money or he would never presume to be so disagreeable." "I see no sign oaf it in his mode of life or his ideas of expenditure." "How is it you let him bore you so, then." "He seems to have thrown himself upon me, while every one else, except poor, dear Deb, has thrown me off — and then I see he is fond of me. There is so much in that. Besides he is intelli- gent—a character, in fact. I feel his hold on me is tightening." "Where did you find him." Mona gave the history of their first meeting. "Depend on it he will prove a 'trea- sure trove'. Where does he come from?" "Somewhere near Glasgow. My father's people were—I scarcely know what — very humble in origin." "And where does he live when he is at home." "I am not very sure. He has a cot- tage in the Western Highlands called Craigdarroch" "Craigdarroch," repeated Lady Finis- toun, in great surprise. "Why, that is close to Strathairlie. I remember hear- ing that a rich jute enanufactm•er bought it. Yes, I know all about it now, dear- est Mona; he must be the same Mr. Crai --a dreadful, rich, Radical old. mis- er. You don't mind my saying so, do you." Mona set out to keep her appointement with Lady Finistour with mixed feelings of pleasure, and a little irresistible mok tification. At twenty, philosophy had not had time to strike its roots very deeply into the soul. Mona was proud, but her pride had no tinge of meanness. Of poverty 'she was not the least ashamed, so long as she was indebted to herself alone. fret 3n old and highly artifical societies like ours, poverty is probably the most de- grading condition into which man Or wo- furan can fall; but the sting to Mona lay hi her conseiousness that the disap- probation, and neglect of her relatives *as in some degree deserved. She had not acted loyally to Waring; she ought not to have broken faith with him when the immediate cause which lorded her to accept him was remened. "He is very unambitious; and has been seriously ill." "You are sure you have not been ad- ministering slow poison in homeopathic globules?" asked Lord Finistoun. "You look a very resolute young woman, Miss Craig" A little more light talk, and he left them, after a kindly expressed hope of seeing • Mona soon again. "I am not at home to any one," said Lady Finistoun, as soon as the servant came back from opening the door. "Come up to my room, Mona. We have only a few rooms open, as we go back to Cumberland on Tuesday. Now we shall have a delightful talk. Isn't Finfs- toun nice? He is such a good fellow. I thought him so dull and quiet when he came to the Chase—just after you made all that hubbub, dear! I didn't care about marrying him much, only he seem- ed so much in rove with me—which no- body ever did before—and now I think hint the most charming companion, Isn't he bright and pleasant?" "He is indeed! I suppose you make him so happy, that his nature has devel- oped, as plants do in sunshine." "You are just the same as ever, Moia, with your quiet funny air of wisdom. I wish you had married Mr. Waring. It is really very nide to be married to a kind, generous husband." And so on about her own happiness and affairs for nearly an hour, then she ex- claimed, suddenly: "But tell me about yourself! `What an awful life you must lead with poor Mme. Debrisay! though she is a dear old thing, Do you never go to a dance or—but of course not; you could not know the peo- ple about you." and—and I have a little money of my own --more than a hundred and twenty pounds. 1 was quite ready to give up the lessons that 1 might be with you. You were not fit to be left alone, 1 will not take the money." "Not will 1 take it back: " "You must, indeed," she persisted. "Boot, toot! a young creature like you needn't Hesitate to take it from her nearest of kin. here, pit it in yer poc- ket." "Let us make a bargain, uncle!" sriecl Mona, gayly, "1 do not want the money now, but when I do I'll ask for it." "Ay, but I miedoubt me if you will; you have too much pride. Not but that I like your independent spirit—that comes from the Craigs. I'Jl ,ji»t pit up the money in a bit paper, and it will be ready whenever you want it." "Thank you, t}nele. I will ask for it, if I want it; but I hope I shall not. Do you know that Lord and Lady Finistoun are your neighbors at Craigdarroch ?" "Ay, I knew the name; but 1 did not give them a thocht. I remember now, the Laird o' Strathairlie used to be down in the shooting -time, with a wild, feck- less lot—loons that just consume the fruits of the airth, and never add a baw- bee to the nation's wealth." "Still, I suppose they do some good, by giving employment and spendiug money"? "I'm no that sure. They create a fause demand, and a useless class—men that just minister to other men's pleasure aie never good for anything; there's some- tbing degrading in it. If ye come down and see me in my bit Hieland home, 1 hope these fine folk won't come haver - in' after you. I canna be fashed wi' sie like kittle cattle." "I don't suppose they would trouble me much, only Evelyn, who is really fond of me, I believe; and I should greatly enjoy Craigdarroch. The Highlands must be delightful, from Kenneth's account." "Ay; he can talk grand. ISe is a braw laddie. You are good friends, you twa?" "Very good. Kenneth interests me, he is so fresh and original." "He is too self-opinionated; but he is an honest lad, and his mother, my heel - sister, was aye nearest to me of kin, though I loved. your father weel till he went an' married like a fule! 1 must look after Kenneth and provide for nim, for her sake. Her heart was bound up in him; and for a' his bone and muscle, he's no that strong." "Yes, Uncle Sandy, you ought to take care of him. He is indeed your natural heir." "Natural heir indeed!" quoth Uncle Sandy wrathfully. "Nabody it my herr or heiress beyond what I choose. 1 inn leave all I possess to an institution or an hospital to -morrow." "Of course you could," said Mona, in- differently. "Then let me hear nae mair of heirs and heiresses!" "Very well. Shall I read now ?" "Ay, and dinna go too fast." But the lecture did not seem to give satisfaction till she came to the "Price Ci�went," when some of • the. quotations denied to arouse a keen and pleasura-, ble interest in her hearer. "Ay,' he muttered. "Spanish four cents, forty-eight and a quarter, ex -divi- dend. That's good; time to sell. Burn! Union Pacific, three-fourths down! that will do. Where is Kenneth ? lie hasn't come nigh us this Sawbath" "He said he was going to church with his friend young Macleod, and was to sup with him after" "He's always awa' when he is wanted. Write hien a note; nay, a half -penny card will do as well. Tell him—stay, I'll write myself, though it is the Saw - bath. There are some things will na' keep, and the Lord's Day is not the same this side of the border." "Just so, uncle. When in Rome, do as Rome does." "Ay; when will a note reach him?" "I dare say at ten to -morrow morn- ing." "Oh, no, by no means," returned Mona, laughing. "It is very curious that you should know anything about him. Still, I can not believe in his wealth; and he is certainly not a miser" "This is a delightful .liso'en'ery. Finis- toun wit be quite .pleaard;n and then we bhall see you in the aTCl.rii t?re a1wayes go, or will go, to St-aithairiie" "But, perhaps, my uncle will not re- turn there." .. "Oh, yes, re will. Do not be so con- tradictory. My dear Iove, you will be a wealthy heiress yet. Craigdarroch is quite a lovely place. And there is a farm —a good large farm ,and fishing rights attached to it, etc., etc." Talk flowed, freely, till Mona, observ- ing the hour, insisted on taking leave. "It is pouring with rain: Do let me send you home in a cab." "No, dear Evelyn, you shall not send me in a cab. I will take one myself, for I do" not wish to spoil my best gown." "What a rebellious subject you are. I protest I feel a load taken off my mind when I think yon have a rich uncle in the toils. Keep fast hold of him." CI'IAPTER XII. Mme. Debrisay's words respecting Mona's sacrifices for her uncle had sunk into his soul. He was generally a taciturn individual but at times communicative fits would seize him, of which when they were past, he seemed half ashamed. Mona's absence on the Sunday after- noon when she had lunched with Lady Finistoun, was a stumbling block and rook of offence. "teddy Finistoun, indeed," he mutter- ed, not addressing any one in particular. "She and her people would have left the girlie to starve and she Must run back to eat of her bread. That's not the right spirit." "But, uncle," said Mona, who was look- ing for the city article in the Times, "Evelyn was always fond of me. She is not responsible for what her people did." "Eh. They are all birds of the same feather. I'd have nowt to do wi' them." "Lady Finistoun sought me, uncle. It would here been ungracious to reject her advances." "Oh, gang yer ain "sit. The young al- ways know better than the oland ex- perienced." Mona did not reply and there was a pause. She found the .ertiele she had been looking for, and had just begun to read when Uncle Sandy stopped. her, •ex- claimines— "Bide a bit. I want to speak to you." She laid clown the newspaper a little alarmed at the ominous beginning, "Tell me truth," he resumed. "How are you paid for your singing lessons 9" "Oh, mine are merely preparatory les- sons! so I do not get much," "Ay, but how much 9" "Three shillings a lesson, or thirty for twelve." "HumI hal well!" --pulling out his purse—"there are three sovereigns for you. Madame told me you, put off some pupils that ye might give your time to tee, and I can nae forget it. I •doubt if any one ever did so much for me be- fore. Now I don't want you to suffer loss through me. There, tak' the gowd, ye're welcome, Before that is gone, ye'll may bo find other pupils." • "But, Uncle Sandy, I would rather not take it! Indeed, I would rather not! 1 am sure I shall soon find other pupils, WEAK KIDNEYS. Restored to Strength by Dr. Williams Pink Pills. Bad blood is the cause of weak kid - rays. The impurities ro1 the blood clog the kidneys so that they are un- able to perform theirwork of separ- ating the waste matter from the blood—the bad from good. The symp- toms of ' diseased kidneys are numer- ous. The dull, sunken eye, the coated tongue, the backache, weals, shaky knees, sallow, swollen face all show what is wrong. This disease must not be neglected. Every day delayed in finding a care is a day nearer "Bright's Disease" that trouble is incurable. Do not waste time and money on a medicine which acts only on the kidneys. It may relieve, but it cannot cure you. The trouble to be permanently cured must be treat- ed through the blood. Good blood • makes healthy kidneys. Dr. Williams' Pink Pills actually make new, rich, red blood—that's why they cure when other medicines fail. Thousands own good health—some life itself—to this medicine. Among them is Roy David- son, who resides with his uncle, Mr. C. B. Maclean, near Brockville, Ont. Mr. Maclean says: "My nephew, Roy, had weak kidneys. About a year ago he took the measles and this left him in a had state. His kidneys were so weak that they were incapable of per- forming their functions. He suffered from backache, weakness and restless- ness. For a time he had to leave school. Our family doctor was unable to help him. In fact, he told me that Roy might never get better; that .the disease would probably grow worse. I then procured a supply of Dr. Wil- liams' Pink Pills. I had already used the Pills myself, with great benefit and felt confident they would cure Roy. He began taking them, and continued their use until he had taken a half dozen boxes, which fully cured him. He is now stronger and. better than he ever was, and neither study nor work about the farm seem to fatigue him. I believe Dr. Williams' Pink Pills saved him from a life of misery." Dr. Wlliams' Pink Pills do just one thing but they do that thoroughly. They actually make new, rich, red blood, which. feeds and strengthens every nerve and organ in the body. That is why this medicine cures such common ailments as anaemia, general weakness, headaches and backaches, ingestion, palpitation of the heart, rheumatism, neuralgia and the ail- ments which makes the lives of so many women and young girls miserable. Don't take something else which the dealer may say is "just as good." If you can't get the genuine Pills from your dealer, send to The Dr. Wiliams' Medicine 0o., Brockville, Ont., and get them by mail at 50 cents a box or six boxes for $2.50. (To be continued.) BEAUTY AND THE SPORTS. How Various Athletic Games Affect Face and Figure, A London beauty expert has drawn up the following table, which shows the probable effect of various outdoor pas- times on the appearance: Boating—Burns or freckles the skin, and inflames the eyes. Bicycling—.Enlarges the feet and the hands. Cricket—Wiil ruin the prettiest figure. Football—Causes awkwardness. Gymnastics—Develop muscles to excess and is detrimental to a graceful car- riage. Hockey—ruins the figure and com- plexion. Lawn tennis—The least harmful of sports, but may enlarge right shoulder and hand. Motoring—Coarsens the skin and red- dens the nose. Sea swimming—Ruins the hair. Of course ,these disfigurements result only when the games or sports mention- ed are too ardently played or followed, for, as another specialist said, "I would have this motto put up in every girl's boudoir: 'Health is wealth, and an out. door life gives health.' y t3talt uu arms Disease takes no Sums' vacation. if y©u need flesh and strength use Sc i't's �a�ata9s�o� summer as in winter. Send for free aunplet. iCOIT dt BOWNE, Caned*a Tomo, Seo. and 01.00; all dragglatn. Still Living in slope. "Twenty-two years ago to -day there was an occasion which called forth the following notice in our paper: "On Mon- day morning an army of women, armed with all sorts of small clothes, pare. goric, castile soap and catnip tea, invad- ed our domestic camp. We were not only scared but surrendered, unconditionr ally. We are informed (reliably), than It is a girl and will very likely make her home with us for about eaghteeen years, when we •will be willing to give her away to some young man, provided he is a member of the Y. M. C. A." She is now reporter for the Kansan, and though the ,plans we had in view of gis'isg her away have not yet matured, we are not altogether evithout hope. — Concordia Kansan. THE CHILDREN'S FRIEND. Baby's Own Tablets is not for babiesq only, It is a medicine for children of all ages. It is gently laxative andcom- forting. It cures indigestion, all Ratans of stomach troubles, constipation, simple fevers, diarrhoea and makes teething painless, There's a smile in every dose. Mrs. Henry Mater, London, Ont., says: "Having used Baby's Own Tablets I can say with sincerity that I know noth- ing as good for simple fevers, stomach and bowel troubles, My baby has thriv- ed splendidly since I began giving her the Tablets." You can get Baby's Own Tablets from any mediein.e dealer'or by mail at 25 cents a box by writing the Dr, Williams Medicine Co., Brockville, Ont. Learning the White Man's Ways. "Lo, the poor Indian, whose untutored mind" makes him the easy prey of the white sharper, but whose mind. teltor- ed in a law school and stimulated by the atmosphere of the national capital i$ capabel of attaining contingent fees of unprecedented dimensions! Robert S. Owen, a Cherokee, hate won s suit for his nation for $5,000,000 against the Un- ited States, being the cost of the tribe's removal from Georgia to the Indian ter- ritory silty -eight years ago. Of this he ie to receive 15 per cent. For winning another ease this same copper -hued at- torney got $205,000 from the Chicka- saws and Choctaws. The members of the Washington bar must be kicking themselves that they never produced a law requiring Indian tribes to employ only white Tlawyers,—Philadelphia Re- cord. - m . ie Five Millions for a Tomb. no Empress Dowager of China is feel- ing the weight oil her years, and is anx- ious to have her last resting place made ready before site is "invited to become a guest of Heaven" The ahangii i North Chula Herald says that something like $5,000,000 has already been spent tin the proposed mausoleum, west of Pekin, de. signate l the "Happy Land of a fad. Walt19.A/