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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Herald, 1907-11-08, Page 71�cp MUM ANh9U'klSidN tk`V.4`aGMitlfEiGa Ellen O'Leary. After the early storms, a deep calm had settled upon the lives of Ellen and her little family. They still lived at the rock-bound cottage on. Sil- ver Creek, an•d were supported by the produce of the fractional farm. Ellen O'Leary was a very bad manager, or rather no manager at all. She knew lit- tle, because she cared little, about farm- ing. Here was the lifelong listlesness of a long -lost hope. So that the clays flow- ed on and her children did not suffer, she did not care, She never took the trouble to inform herself of anything connected with the interests of the farm. If she could tell a field of wheat from a patch of potatoes, it was the ex- tent o flier agricultural knowledge. She certainly could not tell a field of wheat from a field of rye. But for the invaluable presence and services of Big Len, the farm. and every- thing upon it, would probably have gone to the auctioneer's hammer! But Big Len was fidelity and skill combined. And, assisted by his strapping son, Little Len, faithfully worked the farm—such as it was, with a fractional field here, there and everywhere, broken up among rocks. wherever in some little glen or hollow the deposit from the mountains had made a patch of arable soil, Old. Abishag was the cook, house -ser- vant. spinner and knitter to the little es- tablishment. And she, too. trequently added,by the works of her hands, a ball - dozen pairs o froarse yarn socks, to be exchanged at the village shop for "two pounds of sugar, a pound of coffee and a quarter of a pound of tea," or else for ' a pair of number seven girl's shoes, and a pair of number ten boy's." Ellen's only epistolary- correspondence was with Mrs. Hunter, with whom she exchanged a letter every month, and from whom she continually heard the most satisfactory accounts of Honoria— satisfactory, except in one respect— that Honoria seemed to have forgotten that she had ever had any other parents than Mr. and Mrs. Hunter. Mr. Hunter had legally and regularly adopted her. And she was known only as Miss Bunter, the only daughter and heiress of the great Daniel Hunter. And she was the beauty, the pride, and the boast of all the sing- ing and dancing schools, and all the juvenile balls and parties, and "always Queen of the Man" But in consenting thus to Houoria's .premature—entrance into vanities, rivalries and selfishness of a juvenile fashionable world, Mrs. Hunt- er wrote that she had acted against her own better judgment.. and that now, hav- ing seen the effeet of these amusements upon the mind and manners of Honoria to be anything but desirable, she should put a stop to. Ellen had no neighbors --in fact, that rugged mountainous district was very sparsely settled, and the roads were so intolerably bad as to amount to a posi- tive embargo upon social intercourse. Thetax-gatherer, Mr. Ipsy, was her only eisitor, and he came but once a year. Ellen's children. nurtured under the se - Pere but salutary discipline of poverty, seclusion and self-denial, were good and Intelligent, as they were beautiful. Icer on, k'ahon O'Leary, was a fine, Manly boy of thirteen years of age. He was tall and slender for his years, yet of firm, elastic frame, with nerves and sinews well strung for strength, agility and grace. He inherited the gypsy skin, black hair, and eagle eye of Norah. No step upon the mountain was like his— his flashing glance, quick, clear tones, find agile spring were in perfect unison. It was his delight to rise in the morn- ing before the sun, and with his light fowling -piece to range the mountains, and return with a well-filled bag of game before the family were ready to sit down to breakfast. Or at noon to sit tender the broad, spreading elm, or up- on some projecting point of rock, receiv- ing into his expanding soul,the beauty and the glory of nature; or simply ehormed with some individual effect of light and shade upon mountain, valley or forest—trying to reproduce it upon paper, often throwing down his pencil with a tyro's disgust at his own awk- wardness and failure, but oftener work- ing on, inspired with the young artist's exquisite sense of genius, and the thaill- pu•e ami; omen; pe Iuamtlueseed Sul power. But Maud, "sweet Maud," sweeter now at ten years old than ever before— how shall I paint for you her exquisite loveliness? The child of Daniel Hunter and Augusta Percival—the child of gen- ious and love, beauty annal.,,, goodness, un- ited and blended in perftet harmony— what shall she be but divinely beauti- ful? But it was the heavenly beauty of the soul within that gave the wondrous charm to Maud's lovely face. She was not a child of quick impulses or strong passions. Her affections were quiet, pro- found and eternal. In self-reliance site seemed rather diffident. and in self- defense tined; but in the cause am ser- vice of her friends, her resolution am- ounted to a total forgetfulness or disre- gard of consequences, and her courage would have seemed rashness but for her passionless, deliberate manner of pro- ceeding. The little family was startled out of its quietude by the visit of :lir. Ipsy, who announced that Daniel Hunter was retir- ing from public Iife and coming to settle permanently at Howlet Hall: also that he was going to build a church and school et the Summit. CHAPTER XVI. "Will you rest now? Will you rest? Wi11 you let this overwrought, toil -worn brain repose a little while?" murmured Augusta, softly passing her fingers over the great politician's corrugated brow. It was the first evening after their arrival at Howlet Hall, and they occu- pied their favorite, wainscoted sitting - room. The furniture o fills apartment had been purposely left unchanged, and the room preserved its old-fashioned, sober, slumberous air. It was cool, spring weather, and a fine wood fire was burning in the fireplace. Daniel Hunter sat before it in a large, stuffed, leather chair that might have belonged to the eighteenth century, Augusta en- tered, and came softly behind his chair, and was stooping over him 'until her ringlets lee-. upon,,; his' cheek, as • With sweet, grave tenderness she stnootiied his brow, and muttered; "Will you rest now?" He smiled gravely, put his hand be- hind him, and drew her around to a seat by his side and toyed with her ringlets, but in a thoughtful, abstracted manner; his mind was far away. The lady sighed and wondered what "question" had fol- lowed him to his hermitage to cheat him of his rest. Both are changed in these six years. Augusta's pale cheek is paler than ever, and her countenance has a calmer and profounder beauty. But the change that has passed over Daniel Hun- ter speak; of the fierce strife of political factions. His face is thinner and darker tha,n before, and his great, ponderous forehead is—or seems—greater than ever by reason of the growing baldness of the upper portion, for his raven hair is fall- ing off, and here and there a silver thread shines amid its darkness. Yet the countenance, if sadder. graver and ster- ner. is also more majestic than ever be- fore. The lady sat by his side, with her hand clasped in his, watching the pro- found thoughtfulness of that noble countenance, and then she inquired, soft- ly"Now, what ics it—the French question, the Sub -Treasury bill—what is it that has pursued you even to this place, and will not let you rest" He paused in his thoughts, and looked' at her in the most perplexed, amused way, and then said: "Why, you are nixing up past ques- tions and present questions um the most unacountable manner, my love —bilis that are dead and buried, and bills that GOLO 0 0 00014 44 0040444 A Boston schoolboy was tall, weak and sickly. His arms were soft and flabby. He didn't have a strong muscle in his entire body. The physician who had attended the family for thirty years prescribed Scote.s Ernael..s asao NOW: To fed that boy's arm you would think he was apprenticed to a blacksmith ALL DRUGGISTS; 60o. . AND $1.00. 0°!t "•!„ +'rr.rJk c'F.'I 4/400041 EII"' '••`" y`tit p '1, de' G 3` 0 agis its 0 0 ID" are scarcely born, It was , the Preneh question that occupied me then. I con fess I menet at present see any a,y through the difficulty." "You know that nothingcap be Acne in this matter before the• next tneetieg of Col press; then why harass your minds with. it? A problem that has racked the powers of Congress and .the Cabinet for three months is not likely to find:its so- lution iu the present exhausted state of your mind. Do not labor with it, Rest— resta—recover, and then in some healthful, hopeful, strong moment, the answer will come to you like a sudden inspiration." As she said this she was passing her fingers lightly through'bit hair, and her eyes unconrnously fined upon the silo- ery threads. He sawor felt her look, and he smiled and said; ' , "No matter, love! --so that yours is not gray, it is no matter, You are my beautiful portion, Augusta, acd your beauty" I have indeed wished to see pre- served." She sought his eyes, and her own oyes filled with tears. Again" to smiled: But Augusta raised .the lock and press- ed it to her lips instead,;murmarieg: "Not for the world. I would not remove one of them for the world. I love those few grey hairs. Daniel, they are eloquent of your life's greatness—they art s•icrui' and again site bowed her face and pees - ed the lock to her lips. "I shall see them comp witle more pLil osophy than heretofore, dear," he ai.s- wered, smiling. Ellen received an invitation front Mrs. Hunter and prepared to make her a visit She went by the shortest rare), .the bridlepath and therefore took neither of the children with her, but only Dittle Len, mounted on a plough horse. as ger attendant. Ellen employed herself dur- ing the whole ride in trying to steady and strengthen her nerves for the inter- view with her daughter, lest her agita- tion might excite tate surpllse and curi- osity of the latter, and lead to embar- rassing inquiries. A brisk ride of two hours brought her to Howlett IIa11, where she was received most affectionately by Mie. Hunter, who took her at onee into the sitting -room, where Mise ll+meria, in her morning -dress of white muslin, sat at the piano practicing her Italian music. The young lady arose with her usual dignity to receive a acw visitor. 'Ellen looked at her, a dainty, ,delicate, digni- fied little lady, and a strange pang shot through her heart. "Honoria, this is Mre. O'Leary, a dear friend of ours," said Mrs. Hunter, And before the little belle could make her formal. courtesy, Ellen clasped her in her arms and buret into tears. Mrs. Hunter sat down, calmly Waiting the is- sue. But Miss Hororia withdrew herself with an offended air, and resumed her seat. Mrs. Hunter, instantly arose again, took Ellen's hand and, pressing it af- fectionately, led her to a seat upon the sofa, Ellen recovered herself and was the first to speak, albeit in a broken, faltering voice: "You must pleaee to ecce tse me, Miss Honoria. I knew your fatl t r •weI] and loved him. I love Mrs.Merc a ;so—• -aid —when I saw you, i- • "" "Pray, do not mention it, niedam, Ton are very good, and I am very ouch Clat- tered, I atn sure," said Miss Heniria, haughtily, as she adjusted ser slightly disordered dress. Ellen was cut to the he i. •t. Poor Fllen did not recollect that at Hon:mite age she herself was just such an inseicamt. affected piece of egotism mindconceit. Mrs. Hunter rang the bell and 'ordered cake and wine brought, .and when her gueet had taken some refrleament, the lady bade Honoria sit down,t:o the piano and sing for then. And the yaung lady, never unwilling to display her mnusical powers, complied very „raeiulty, x d sang several sweet .,ongs, t o the delLget of Ellen. Soon after this dinner was an- nounced. At the dinner table Ellen met Daniel Hunter and Mies Letitia, both of whom received her with great cor- diality. Early in the afternoonEllen pre- pared to take leave, resisting all Mrs. Hunter's persuasions to stay by saying that the little girl, Sylvia. was not quite well and that she feared to leaves bar alone all night. Therefore Ellen bade them all good -by, imprinted a passion- ate kiss upon the haughty, unwiIIing lips of Miss Ilonoria, received a warin, affec- tionate one from Mrs. Futter, and so departed. * * *. * * The family were preparing to receive a newly married pair --Mr. and. Mrs, Lo - vel. And one lovely afternoon in April the bride and groom arrived, and there were kisses, and congratulations, and inquiries, and gentle attentions, and nurs- ing tenderness, nntil they were refresh- ed from their journey, and comfortably installed in the parlor. The young couple were a pretty, Innocent -looking • pair of turtle -doves enough, a very nice match, some people said, because, forsooth, both were fair-haired and fairskinned, and both about the same height, Mr, Level having the advantage of only an inch or so in this respect; .though in • every other respect of moral, amental and. Chris- tian worth, Mr, Level was greatly the superior of his pretty, gentle, frivolous wife. --else had not Daniel Hunter called him to the pastoral care of his new church. On Thursday before Easter Bishop 5 — arrived at the Hall to solemnize the rights of dedication,, and was received with the utmost respect and cordiality. 13ut the countenance of the venerable itre- late was overcast, gloomy and forebodnng. Kind and gentle in his manners, he sought to throw off the shadow from his brow and spirits, but in vain; and after dinner he requested an interview with Mr. Hunter. His host conducted hint into the library and they sat down on opposite sides of a small writing -table, the bishop with an ,ominous sigh and groan, Daniel Hunter in quiet expec. taney. "Does your memory, serve you to re- call the last occasion, upon which we met, Mr. Bunter?" inquired Bishop 5—. Daniel 'hunter reflected a moment, and then answered: "Certainly, sir. It wee upon the oe- casion of your eollir +;, in eomnpany, with several other gentlemen, at the Execu- tive Chamber in A--, with a petition for the reprieve of William O'Leary, con- victed of the murder of Burke" "Yes, sir; and, Mr. Hunter, it is eleven years to -night since you refused to grant our petition for the reprieve of that man." "To what end, reverend sir, is that painful event recalled?" "To the end, Mr. Hunter, I fear, that you may regret your refusal more than you ever regretted any act of your life." "13e good enough to explain yourself, Bishop 5---" "Heaven be pitiful, Daniel Hunter, SO I will. But when you have heard—listen, then. Tt is not two weeks since I was called to the deathbed of a man of the highest social position, who confessed, in the presence of myself and the Mayor of A----, that he was guilty of the mur- der. of Burke, and the he was dying of remorse. He had killed I%nrke to avenge an insult offered to bis sister; he had escaped and gone abroad instantly after tiro deed and, after remaining in Franc several years, had only recently returned to find out that an innocent man had been executed for his crime. His deposi- tion was taken down, end he died in ton minutes after signing it," Daniel Bunter was not a than to start or ejaculate. He heard this terrible an- nunciation, and lifted up his head. and his strong, massive face seemed turned to marble --and: "God be merciful to human error"-" be exclaimed; "for if the convict had been my own son, I would have done as I did." with some eight or twelve pupils col leafed around her. Among the teachers were Mrs. Daniel Hunter and Mrs. Lovel, Mrs. Hunter had a large-sized square pew beside the great organ. There were about a dozen little •girls around her. The black lave veil was thrown back, and the lady's beautiful face was un- shaded, save by the drooping black ringlets. Mr. Ipsy, as superintendent, stood be- fore a large desk in the corner, doing something with pen and ink, and lightly kicking his neat boot toes together, and twinkling his eyes and eyebrows, and every little while sticking the pen be- hind his ear, and flying off at a tangent to hand a book to some pupil, or, to speak a word to some teacher. Our girl and boy were evidently rather late. The morning prayers were over, and tate exercises of the school coo- menced. So Mr. Ipsy told them when Falconer walked up to his desk, made his bow, and presented his little sister. Nevertheless, Mr. Ipsy took a New Tes- tament out of his desk, and opened it and handed it to ].Maud, and told her to read for him, that he might test her abilities, and know in what class to place her. (To be aontinued.1 4 -a SUFFERING WOMEN Made Well and Strong by Dr. Wil- liams' Pink Pills. Every dose of Dr. Williams' Pink Pills makes new blood . Every drop of pure blood brings the ill, disheartened woman nearer to health and happiness. Dr, Williams' Pink fills have brought the glow of health to thousands of sufferers *who gladly bear testimony to that ef- fect. One of these is :sirs. Elizabeth Dun- ham, unham, of Welland, Ont., who says: "For more than a year I was greatly run down. I had sickening headaches and my heart would palpitate so violently that at times I feared death was near. I was under the care of a doctor, but insteadof Improving I lost strength, and my weight decreased from one hundred and forty to ninety pounds. I was dis- couraged, but finally decided to give up the doctors' treatment and try Dr. Wil- liams' Pink Pills. I am glad I did so, for after nein the Pills a few weeks I could see a marked improvement in my condition. The headaches left me, I re- gained strength, the distressing heart palpitation ceased and at the end of two menthe I was fully restored to health and felt better than I had for the past twenty years. Dr. Williams' Pink fills are truly a marvellous medicine, and I cannot praise them enough." Heart palpitation, anaemia, head- aches, loss of appetite, general weak- ness, backaches, weariness and a host of other troubles are all the outcome of bad blood. Dr, Williams' Pink Bilis make new, rich, red blood the pure blood. does the rest. That is whythese pills • cure all 'troubles due to atexy blood or weak, shaky nerves. There is not a nook or corner in Canada where you will not find some grateful person who has been cured by the use of Dr. Williams' Pink Pills. On the word of your neighbor we ask you to try this medicine if you are weak, ailing or run down. The pills are sold at 50 dents a box or six boxes for $2.50 at all. medicine dealers, or from the Dr. Wil- liams' Medicine Co,, Brockville, Ont. DO YOU KNOW --- That all odd fellows do not belong to a lodge? That• a widow who wouldn't flirt is unknown? That many girls would rather die than be an old maid? That you can't meet a girl who will refuse an ice cream? That a faint heart is considered an easy mark for the modern girl? That even a blind man can find trouble without much difficulty? That if you kiss a pretty girl once you'll feel hungry for more? That we sometimes write love letters we wish we'd never posted? That the girl that cannot sing and will sing ought to be muzzled? That nothing costs more than things we try to get for nothing? That it's only the pretty women at a show who will remove their hats? That courtship is a vessel in which few single ladies object to embark? That you hardly ever see a policeman bother anyone larger than himself ? That smiles cost less than electric lights and they make the home bright- er? That it's easier for some men to make love than it is to make a living? That a woman never weeps more bit- terly than when she weeps for spite? That the most timid girls have a way of hinting at supper after the theatre? That you can't convince a woman that a bargain is a bargain unless she gets it? CHAPTER XVII, In the meantime, at the Silver Creek farmhouse, little. Maud lay i11. Ellen, on returning from Howlet Ilan, haft found her in a high fever, and had sent off to the Summit for the doctor. Her illness was pronounced to be a conges- tive fever, threatening the brain. And all the family vied with each other in devoted, though profoundly quiet at- tentions to the gentle little patient. El- len watched by her bedside day and night, scarcely allowing herself an hour's needful rest in the twenty-fomu.. Old Abishag forgot to swear, and prayed instead. And Falconer learned a lighter step and softer tone •when he entered her sick room. • Aptd Maud, in her fevered dreams, babbled sweetly of a beautiful lady, that led .her by the hand through green and shady woods and limns, and who gave her cold, sparkling water from fresh fountains when she was thirsty,' and sat down and took her upon her lap, and laid her tired head upon her soft boson when she was exhausted. And sometimes this lady was her mother, come from heaven to visit her—and sometimes She was 2Irs. Hunter, whose portrait hung above the mantelpiece at Iiowlet Hall. As: Ellen watched, alone, beside her, in the darkness of the night, and saw her stretch her feeble arms, and her countenance irradiate with joy, to wel- come the vision of the sweet lady—so real seemed this vision to the sick child, that Ellen cowered in awe, and crossed herself, and uttered the Ave Maria, for she thought it was an apparition of the blessed Madonna. And Falconer, when he heard the child babbling in the daytime of the lovely lady's smiles and tones—under- stood her visions—but somehow, even to him, they were invested with e sacred mystery that awed him into silence. At last the crisis of Maud's illness passed. The fever waned, and with it faded the bright vision of the lady. And Maud's thoughts returned to healthful, ordinary life. Mr. Bill Ipsy eamc over to see the little convalescent, and brought her some oranges and - some fine apples, and sat down by her bed and told her of the beautiful ncv church that was all ready for dedication at Easter, and the new Sunday school that was to be opened the same day. He himself was to he the superintendent, he said; and Mrs. Daniel llnnter and .Mrs. Level, the pret- ty wife of the young minister, and one or two other ladies of the county, were to be the teachers of the classes. In the course of the next week, Mr. Ipsy called at the cottage to know if the children were not to be allowed to go to Sunday echool. The children were very anxious to eo---and their entreat- ies, joined to ilia. Ipsy's arguments, and. Ellen's secret inclination to oblige Mrs. Hunter, prevailed over her scruples, and she consented, saying to herself (though she afterward confessed it as a sin, for she wos a Catholic), that there was no other ehureh or school in. the neighbor- hood --that the Protestant Church was better titan nano at all, and that the sect, which had 'produced Mrs. Bunter could not be en very far wrong. So the next Sunday. very early in the morning, Falconer and Maud got ready, ate a slight, hasty breakfast, and set ant together to walk to the Summit. Bertha footpath the distance was short. It was a lovely May morning, and Fal- coner and Mand had a delightful walk. They reached the Smtmnmit and entered the ehttrch. The sexton conducted them upstairs , into the spacious gallery, itt which the Smumdayf sex vol was kept. Here, dispersed about in the gallery pews, were about a half dozen of touchers, each SURE AND SAFE. Baby's Own Tablets i9 the best medicine in the world for the minor ailments of little ones, and the saf- est. We do not ask you to take our word for this—we give you the guaran- tee of a Government analyst that this medicine contains no opiate or harmful drug. It is equally good for the new born babe or the. well grown child. It is a certain cure for all the minor ailments of childhood. IIrs. Andre Tremblay, Sayabec, Quebec, says: "I have proved the value of Baby's Own Tablets as a cure for several of the troubles that; afflict young children, in - eluding skin disease, indigestion and teething troubles" Sold by medicine dealers or by mail at 2,1 tents a box from the Dr. 'Williams' Medicine Co,, Brockville. Ont.