The Herald, 1906-08-03, Page 3Ceylon (1REFN Tea
Is preferred by former Japan tea drinkers
because of its greater purity.
Lead packets only. 40c, 50c and 60c per pound.
At all Grocers. Highest Award St. Louis, 1904.
''Instincts, indeed! You are no eat or neth, my mon. I'll talc' a glass o' water
a dog! Why did ye speak to a respect-
able- young man—your uncle's, heir, nand
you—in a way that gars him say he'll
never ask you weir?"
"I am very sorry if I have offended
for I really like him, but I thought it
only right to explain that I could give
him no hope."
"And he did nae offend you?"
"Oh, no, uncle. Kenneth would never
offend a. lady"
"I am glad you say it, for I have been
angered against him. Now, be a, wise
lassie, an' mak' up your mind to tak'
him if he will ask you again, then ye
can baith come awe' wi' me to Craig•
darrochd for I doubt but the man I let
the land to is just making a kirk and a
mill of it; in anther year, I'll get it
into my ain hands, so I'll want Kenneth
to be my factor, and we twa men folk
would be ill aff without a lassie to look
after us—so you speak up, Kenneth,
my man, and ask her before my face."
"No! Kenneth, do notl" cried Mona,
coloring, with pain at. having to disap-
point her uncle, and also with irritation
at the denseness which prevented him
from perceiving the unsuitability of such
a marriage. "I should only repeat what
I have said before. Though I am heart-
ily sorry to refuse any request of yours,
uncle, it is impossible I can let anyone
choose a husband for me."
"And I must declare I canna wish to
marry a young teddy who has refused
me three times! It would be very un-
wise to tak' a reluctant wife. May be
some other young Teddy "
Kenneth got so far, when. Mr. Craig
interrupted him bitterly----
"Ay, ay, my ladl there's as good fish
in the sea as ever was caught; an' I see
it's no your fault, I don't know what's
the matter wi' you, Mona? If you have
another lad in your e'e, it'll be some
ne'er-do-weel, I'm afeared. If it's yon
sneering deevil, Everard, he wadna walk
across the street for you. You'll be sor-
ry for your contradictiousness one clay."
"My dear uncle," laughing, "I never
supposed Bertie Everard cared. for mor-
tal but himself. I assure you I have no
lad of any description in my mind's eye."
"Aweel," cried Uncle Sandy, greatly
enraged, "it is varra ungrateful and un, ting over a hundred and one trifling an-
wi' a drop o' whiskey just ring the bell.
I'll trouble you nae mair, Miss Craig;
you can drop my name again, for a' I
care, and gang yer ways. You, Kenneth,
just give warning to your landlady; I'll
give you 1MIona's room."
"But, uncle, I can not—" began Ken-
neth.
"Do not contradict him," whispered
Mona, passing close by, as she approach-
ed her uncle. "Good-bye, then," she
said., kindly, "I will never offer to re-
turn, but if you want me, and ask me,
I will come to you!"
She tried to take his hand, but he
pushed hers away, and turned his face
from her like a naughty child.
Mona looked at him kindly, and a lit-
tle sadly, and then left the room, forbid-
ding Kenneth. by a gesture, to follow
her. •
CHAPTER XVII.
A change had indeed come o'er the
spirit of her dream. Mona scarcely ex-
pected such energetic action on her un-
cle's part. That he would be angry she
expected, but she did not think he would
take such strong measures. However,
there was nothing for it but submission
to the decree of banishment pronounced
against her; she therefore packed up
her belongings, told the landlady she
was going away for a short time, and re-
treated to Mme. Debrisay.
That lady was not at home. She
had gone to pass the evening with a
German violinist and his wife, with
whom she was on rather intimate terms,
ao Mona sat down to wait for her.
She had often felt weary of poor Uncle
Sandy's whims and exactions, but she
had grown to care more for him than slle
knew. He had become so dependent on
her, that the maternal instincts of a wo-
man's heart had gone out to the crea-
ture she protected. Moreover, she be-
lieved him to be a greater sufferer than
he really was. That he should attempt
to dictate to her in such a purely per-
sonal matter was hurtful enough, but
that he should rudely turn her out
wounded her deeply. How miserable
the old man would be, too, all alone,
doing battle with the landlady, and fret-
beeomin' to mak' a laughing -stock of noyances from which he had hitherto
been shielded. Was it possible that the
moisture on her cheek was a tear ? Seo
was afraid that, on the whole, she was
no favorite of fortune. It seemed her
fate to be constantly uprooted. How
little rest she had known since she left
the tranquil seclusion of her Dresden
school—only a few months of feverish
fitful joy, and then clouds and dark -
but if you think of it, you will see how Hess.
impossible it is for any one to choose ten o'clock.. Debrisay did not come in till
o elocL-.
a husband or wife for another. I am by "And is it here you are ,all alone by
no means afraid of managing my own yourself in the dark ?" she cried, eom-
Life unassisted by a husband. mg in quickly through the soft gloom of
a summer's night. "That is too bad!
To think of me talking to that castle -
building German,when I might have been
here with you, dear. How is it you got
away from our dear Old Man of the
Sea ?"
"Easily enough, dear Deb! Uncle San-
dy has turned me out because I have
decidedly refused to marry Kenneth Mac-
alister."
"Turned you out!" repeated Mme. De-
brisay, as she struck a match and light-
ed the gas. "Has he gone off his head?"
"I do not think so; but I have ven-
tured to believe you will take me in,
and in that belief I have told Mrs. Pad-
diford that my room was wanted, so I
cane over here."
"Turned you out!" repeated Mme. De-
brisay, sitting down suddenly and taking
off her bonnet, which she dropped on
the floor; "and. all for not marrying that
long-legged Highlander, who is not fit
to dust your shoes."
"No, no, Deb! he is a very good fel-
low!"
your uncle, wha has spent a kist o'
Biller on you! To think that you'll re-
fuse a fine, good young man, and never
give a thought of your puir uncle's coni-
fort, all for mere selfishness, and an ill -
placed fancy. A woman's life is no good
to her, if she hasna a husband. to rule
her."
"In that I can not agree with you! I
am sincerely sorry to disappoint you;
"Bh, you think you might rule the
kingdom, I dour say! But I'll no have
anybody wi' me that will not hear rea•
eon, or respect my wishes. Kenneth has
done his best to obey me, so he shall
come with me to Craigdarroch! and you
can stay with that fantastical. French-
woman, who, I suppose, encourages ye in
—"That must not be, uncle," said. Ken-
neth, firmly. "I will not stand in my
cousin's way"
He.had. been fidgeting uneasily, eager
$o' put hi a word.
"You'll not sten' in your cousin's way!
you'll not! What's that to you? Are
you baith so daft -like as to think you
can divide my property and—and my
biller betwixt ye, under my very een, be-
fore the breath is oot o' my body? Eh
but I'll give neither of ye abawbee! I'll
Just build a retreat for puir meenisters,
and endow It. Why should I fash my-
self wi' a couple of contermacious young
furca?"
"And you may please yourself for me,
sulole I" oried Kenneth; "any way, it
will no weigh on my conscience that I
didn't try to do as yo udesired."
"Aweel, I know that, an' I shall not
forget it, though I will not have you
dictating and presuming. You just give
notice to your employers, and come awe'
wi' me to Craigdarroch. And you, Mona,
I am done w}' you; you
y goto your
chum. I renounce you; you are just
heartless, like your cord grandmither's
fine aristocratic freends, and look down
on folks that are better than yourself."
"You ought not to be so angry with
sne, uncle,' said Mona, gently. `I am
only exercising a right of choice that be-'
longs to the humbleet and poorest. I
am really grieved to think we rust part.
' Vim have been very good to me, and •I
ire I have been some comfort to you;
lent ellero must be no misunderstanding:
1 never will aecept a husband, save of
my own free choicer
"And a m011 you'll mak' of iti Ken -
"Oh, good enough, but net for such as
you. So I suppose it is all over!"
"What is all over?" asked Mona.
"My hopes that ypur uncle would pro-
vide for you. Now you are no better off
than you were before. Indeed you are
worse off, for You have to snake up for
all the time you spent wandering about
with that old. bear."
"The usual fate of legacy hunters," re-
turned Mona, smiling.
'You are no legacy hunter, Mona. I
declare ethat cantankerous uncle of
yours can have no more heart than a
flint."
"I do not believe he is quite heartless,"
said Mona, thoughtfully; "I believe he is
fond. of me; and will soon recall me."
"When I kope you will have more spir-
it than torespond!" oried madame, in-
dignantly; "he deserves to be left to
blrelbsgs for the rest of his dayia,1°
''That would be a cruel punishment
for an outbreak of temper; it was noth^' Mona 4ould hardly believe :that Uncle.
ing more, Carrie, dearest Deb, I am tired
and depressed; I will go to bed, Do you
know that it is very delightful, the idea
of breakfasting. tete-ft-tete with you to-
morrow ?"
"Is it, my darling? Ab, it warms my
heart to bear you Say so! If you be-
longed to see now; if you were my own,
own algid, oh, it would give me the
strength of a dozen.;; women to work for
you and fight for you; not but I'd do
it all the same, only Td have a right to
you, then,"
"Until. I married some selfish tyrant ex
a man, who would. show his love by sep-
arating me from you," returned Mona,
taking her hand in both hers with an af-
fectionate smile,
"Ali, just so," sighed Mme, Debrisay;
"there are eddies of misfortune at every
bend. in the stream of life; some slip past
them and more slip in. I don't know
how it is, Mona, you always remind me
of my precious baby girl that was taken
from me when she was two years old.
She had hair just like yours. How much
the heart can live through; I died one
death when I found out the real man I
had married, but I carte to life again
with the life I gave. Then I went clown
to the grave once more with my sweet
baby, and dragged on'a half-conscious ex-
istence till Debrisay went; that took
a load off me. I began to be a living
woman again. The music always was a
comfort to me; and here I am, battling
for bread, and taking what pleasure I can
get! Is it not amazing, the vitality of
some natures? Now T have you to look
after, dear, it doubles my life. Ah, what
would we be without love? It is the true
religion, and the real damning sin is self-
ishness! Good -night, dear"
The next day was one of Mme. Debri-
say's busiest, and it was exceedingly wet.
Mona sat indoors very contentedly, busy
with book or needle, and Uncle Sandy
made no sign.
The following evening, Kenneth made
his appearance, with an exceedingly per-
turbed aspect.
The partners were sitting at a table
enjoying a late tea when he came in.
"Well, Mr. Macalister, what news?"
cried Mme. Debrisay, putting down the
teapot to shake hands with him.
"Good -evening, Kenneth. You do not
look too happy" said Mona.
"Happy,•' he repeated; "I am just mis-
erable. I am think Uncle Sandy's gone
clean daft. He was up in the city at
our place, and saw Mr. Sinclair—that is
the principal partner. Came in all the
rain in a cab from Moorgate street. He
told Mr. Sinclair' that lie was going to
adopt me, and requested I might be al-
lowed to leave, as he could not go to his
place in the Highlands without me. So
I was called up, and old Sinclair made
me a speech about my good fortune, and
my excellent conduct while in the ser-
vice of the house (I don't believe he
knew my name rightly half an hour be-
fore); and the two old fellows compli-
mented each other. I fancy Mr. Sinclair
thinks I am to come in for ten thousand
a year at least. This inorning all the
clerks were congratulating me, and I felt
like a thief:'
"Why should you, Kenneth? I assure
you I should have been more miserable
than you look, if I thought my uncle
had quarrelled with you about me. I have
perfect confidence in your layalty."
"And you may have that, Cousin Mo-
no; but it's many a long day before I can
be of any use to you."
"Let me give you a cup of tea, Mr.
Kenneth," said madame, kindly. "It is
my opinion," she continued, as she pour-
ed it out, "that neither one or other of
you will ever see a sou of your uncle's
money. He will get all he can out of
you, and then leave all he has to some
church or institution, or something wick-
ed of that kind."
"No, I do not think that," returned
Mona, thoughtfully. "I believe he is
quite earnest in his intention now, but
he might get angry again and change his
mind."
"After all," cried Mme. 'Debrisay, "I
don't believe he has much to leave behind
him. He talks big; but for all the cry
I suspect there is not much wool."
"There is no telling," said Kenneth,
"But I think he is rich. My poor mother
thought he was ferry rich.'
"We shall never know till poor Uncle
Sandy has no further need of our ser-
vices,' said Mona, smiling. "So there
is no use conjecturing."
"That is true. Eh, but he is dread-
fully angered against Mona," returned
Kenneth, addressing Mme. Debrisay.
"When I said I would come over and dee
her, he broke out against her, and for-
bade me to cross your threshold. I could
not stand that. I just told him that I
was willing to obey him in ,many ways,
but that neither of us had any right to
quarrel with her. So, after some words
—a good many words—he told me to do
as I liked, but I was never to name your
name to him. He is awful miserable—
just fretting the flesh off his bones. We
are to start for Craigdarroch on Mon-
day."
"On Monday!" exclaimed madame.
"And will they let you away from the
office so soon?"
"I don't think I am so valuable that
they want to keep me," said Kenneth,
with .a grin. "Anyhow, we are off on
Monday; and I can't say, I like having,
the are of Uncle Sandy all that way.
We are to stay a couple of days in Glas-
gow, that he may see his man of busi-
ness, and then go on to Kirktoun—that's
the nearest station to Craigdarroch. It's
on a loch, I believe, and it's a fine place"
"You must svelte and let us know how
my help these, Kenneth."
"I will drop you a line, cousin. The
worst is, I see no chance of getting away
north to Glencorrie. My uncle will not
let ore stir from him."
'That will be trying. You would want
my help there, Kennetht."
"Bbs, I should. indeed. Uncle Sandy
treats me very different from what he
does you. I cannot manage for him h
the house, but I amnot afraid of the
fields and the woods. I'l manage them
fine. I was always the Iaird's factor till
my poor mother died, and then Uncle
Sandy- would have ins in an office to
learn business."
Some more talk and friendly eonje°.
ture made time n,RR rime l' +ill ken-
neth rose to bid them good -night„ tail
Sandy would leave town without seeing
her, and she kept a good deal indoore
until the Monday fixed for his departure;
but the old town made no advance. Ins
deed, one afternoon Mme. Debrisay met
`hire walking with the aid of his stick,
when be passed her without the slightest
sign of recognition, She carie home in
high wrath, and denounced his folly and
obstinacy, and many other bad qualities,
with much eloquence. Mona said noth-
mShe was hurt by her uncle's conduct,
but not inconsolable. She only regretted
seriously the period of the year at which
the break bad occurred, as the difficulty
of finding employment forced her to
impinge on her small capital.
Mme. Debrisay insisted on her being a
guest for at least a month, to which the
fear of offending her kind hostess com-
pelled Mona to agree. Otherwise, the
rest and congenial companionship were
very delightful.
Uncle Sandy had been gone about a
week, and the last days of July were fast
slipping away, when one warm, sultry
afternoon, as Mona was leaving Marshall
& Snelgrove's. where she had been shop-
ping for madame, whose soul expanded
at sale time, a smart footman overtook
her, accosting her with the words, "If
you please'rn. Lady Finistoun would be
glad to speak to you"
"Lady Finistoun?" repeated Mona,
looking around. "Where is sire?"
"Her ladyship is in the carriage, close
by."
]following the n'ian, Mona was soon
shaking hands with her former ally.
"I was so afraid I should miss you,
dear," cried the young peeress, shaking
hands warmly with her. "I was afraid
you had vanished from me altogether.
Bertie told me about meeting you abroad
with a wonderful old millionaire of an
uncle. Come, let me drive you wherever
you are going, or, better still, let me
take you to see baby. Such a dear, dar-
ling baby. You will be enchanted witb
him. Do come in. Open the door, Wil-
liam."
"Oh, yes! I should be delighted to see
your baby, dear Evelyn!" said Mona.
The next minute she was seated beside
Lady Finistoun, and driving toward that
lady's house.
"Why did you not let me know you
were in town?"
"I have not been long here," returned
Mona, "and I have been busy. Nor did
I think of looking you up. You see it is
no use attempting to be on the old foot-
ing. We must drift apart"
"Oh, nonsense! You look as well—
indeed better than ever. You will never
lose your style, Mona, and I dare say
you will marry very well, especially with
this rich uncle behind you!"
"My uncle has an heir."
"No! Has he? How very disgraceful!
Never mind, dear, you are evidently a
favorite of fortune. Where are you stay-
ing now?"
"With Madame Debrisay."
"And what have you done with the ins-
ole?"
"He has quarrelled with me and left
me."
"Oh, you foolish girl! How did you
offend him?"
"It is too long a story to tell you
now. Tell me about yourself."
Nothing loath, Lady Finistoun pour-
ed forth the annals of a golden life flood-
ed with the sunshine of prosperity—with
busy pleasure and careless, though kind-
ly, happiness.
They were, she said, on the point of
starting for a month's cruise in northern
latitudes, with a gay party, in the Duke
of Hallamshire's yacht, during which
time the son and heir, now nine months
old, was to stay with Lady Mary at the
Chase.
(To be continued.)
Wilson' s
FIX
At.S
Three hundred timesbet.-
ter than stlekypaper,
NO DEAD FLIES LYING ABOUT
Sold by all Druggists and General Store,
and by mail.
"" TEN CENTS PER PACKET FROM
ARCHDALE WILSON„
HAMILTON, ONT.
•
THE LIGHT OF SYRIA.
Rich and Poor Make Use of These
Illuminants.
Vice Consul -General William C. Mag-
elsson writes from Beirut that the can-
dles used in Syria are both manufactured
locally and imported.
Those of domestic production are
hand -made and of poor finish. The ma-
terials used in making them are paraffin
and etearin (imitation bees' wax), and
in some instances real wax is used..
Most of the foreign candles consumed in
Syria are of French make. They are
imported through commission houses
and are sold to Syrian wholesale dealers;
a credit of three or four months is usu-
ally given. Practically all the business
of Syria is in the hands of commission
merchants.
Inasmuch as statistics are not avail-
able in Turkey, is is impossible to state
the exact amount of the candle importa-
tions; it is known, however, that the
consumption is very large. Candles are
used in every home and hut in city and
country. They are used in the houses
of the wealthy natives as well as in the
tents of the nomad tribes. Large quan-
tities are furnished to the hotels and
churches. They are an important fea-
ture of all religious ceremonies. During
the celebration of marriages the guests
hold long lighted candles, which they
carry away to their homes when they
depart. Persons desirous of bringing
good fortune to relatives and friends; or
hoping to draw the blessings of heaven
upon themselves, frequently keep from
one to five candles constantly burning
upon the church altars. The Mohamme-
dans also use them in their places of
warship.
PURE WATER IS SKY BLUE,
Scientific Men at Last Agreed as to its
Color.
After long hesitation, scientifie men
agree to -day in admitting that water
physically pure, seen in mass, is sky blue.
This color is that taken by the white
light of the sun when absorbed by the
water in consequence of a phenomenon
the explanation of which would be a lit-
tle long.
It is not due to the chemical purity of
the water, since the sea, which is the
bluest water, is also that which contains
the most salt. Nevertheless, according
the Forel's experiments, the matter in
solution should be the predominant
cause of the modification of color, upon
which act, besides the matter in suspen-
sion, the color of the bottom and the re-
flection of the sky and the banks. ('on -
sequently blue water is pretty rare in
nature; a good. many seas and lakes that
give us the impression of this tint are
green.
The water at present acknowledged to
be the bluest is that of the eargasso Fca,
between the Cape Verdi islands and the
Antilles. The water of the. Mediter-
ranean off the French coast and around
Capri is bluer than that of Lake Leman,
much less blue itself than that of the
lakes of Kandersteg and Arolla, in Swit-
zerland. Pure water containing a mil-
lionth of ferric hydrate appears brown
under a thickness of six meters.; a ten -
millionth is sufficient for it to be green
and in order that it may remain blue
is needed less than, a twenty-millionth.—
Illustration.
Are Pie Eaters Hypocrites?
(Providence Journal,)
yyby do peopleoweo eat
waoa i t�Yo and
in the open, P p
der
pie cast about them furtive ganees, and peu-
ou who one nand all talk sand them
haengaged
ash it
Olt Ale,
the consumption of pre constituted an un-
leot Is
pardonable sin whenever
polite otirclosucomposed
broached, Why i
of those whose ancestors were breech up
on pie, oven pie for breakfast, is .pie hailed
with mirthful tittering? `
Getting Into the Swim.
(Ladleos' Field.)
The Social climber Iii London must start
equipped with a mansion in one of the most
fashionable west endsquarees, a Place in
and ccarriage , three tiaras roe a verythices
k
akin. , ,.... .
.a
CHILDitOOD DANGERS.
Diarrhoea, dysentery, cholera infantum
and stomach troubles are alarmingly fre-
quent during the hot weather months.
Too often these troubles become acute,
and""a precious little Iife is lost after
only a few hours' illness. During the
Trot weather season every wise mother
should keep a box of 'Baby's Own Tab-
lets in the house to check these ills if
they come suddenly. Better still, an
occasional dose of this medicine will keep
the stomach and bowels clean, and pre-
vent those dangerous ailments coming.
Mrs. John Lancaster, North Portal, Sask.,
says: "My baby was attacked with diar-
rhoea and severe vomiting. I at once
gave Baby's Own Tablets and next day
she was as well as ever. I find the
Tablets are the only medicine a little one
needs." Sold by all medicine dealere or
by mail at 25 cents a box from The Dr.
Williams, Medicine Co., Brockville, Ont.
e.►
Teach the Boy.
To be true to his word 'and work.
To face all difficulties with courage
and cheerfulness.
To form no friendships that can bring
him into degrading associations.
To respect other people's convictions.
To reverence womanhood.
To live a elean life in thought and
word as well as in deed.
That true manliness always commands
success..
That the ,best things in life are not
those than cans be bought with money.
That to command he must first learn
to obey.
That there can be no compromise be-
tween honesty and dishonesty.
That the virtues o,f punctuality are
politeness are excellent things to culti-
vate.
T•liat o, gentlerxnan is just what the
word! implies --a man who is gentle in
his dealings with the opinions, feelings,
and weaknesses of other people.—Motii-
er's Magazine.
4•®
Too Busy to Whistle.
(Boston Herald.)
It is said the art of whistling will soon bo
counted among the lost unless tbere is a
revival of the cheery spirit that seems to
be forsaking men. Nobody whistles as be
works in these strenuous days. He has too
much on his mind to pucker his lips in a
whistle. Nor does he hum or sing to him-
self for that matter. Ire is, it not downright
sad, too busy for that joyous and uncan-
scious expression of oontentment,