HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Herald, 1908-05-01, Page 3>rA
'give my compliments to Mr. Laver-
iek," he said, "and. tell him I decline his
offer. I bought the girl, and she's mine;
and—wait a minute, Lockit," for with a
shrug of the shoulders the man was de-
parting, "you can add that I'm practicing
revolver shooting, just for amusement,.
and to pass the time, and that I consider
it would be dangerous for any one to be
loitering about the hut, especially after
dark. Laveriek will understand."
"He'd be no end of a fool if he didn't,
young un," retorted Loekit, with a grin.
I'lI take him. And I'll give the bank
agent your share of your own nugget.
Here's luck to you, young 'ten!" and he
sauntered away.
As he did so Neville chanced to glance
toward the hut. Sylvia was standing in
the doorway ,and must have heard every
Word.
When be eame in to dinner he found
her alone. Mrs. Meth having gone to the
eamp, ostensibly for supplies. but really
to hear full particulars of last night's
proceedings.
The girl sat with her head resting on
her small hands. They were clean,
though brown as berries, and she sat
thus and watched him while he ate in
silence for a time. '.[hen she said sud-
denly. and in the clear. musical voice
which had startled Neville the night be-
fore:
"Why didn't yon give me up to that
man?"
Neville looked up, but his eyes fell be-
fore her intent, gray ones, and lie col-
ored.
"Why? Do you think I'm such a
changeable person, ,Sylvia ? You don't.
want to go, do you?"
He was sorry that he had asked the
question almost before he had uttered
it, for her face grew pale to whiteness
and the grey eyes distended.
"There, there," he said, soothingly;
"don't you be afraid l've got you, and
I mean to keep you. Aren't you going
to eat some dinner?"
She shook her head.
"Not yet," she said, gravely. "I can't
eat --yet; I will presently, in a little
white." She was silent for a moment or
two, still looking at him from between
her arms, then she said: "Was that true
that you said last night? Was it all
the money you had—the money you'
bought me with?"
Neville winced.
"Look here, little one," he replied;
don't let us say any more about it, and
don't you think any more about it.
Why" -1 -cheerfully, and as if he had hit
upon au. bright idea -"you'd have given
as much for rue, wouldn't you?" and he
laughed.
She regarded him in silence for a mo-
ment, then she drew a long breath.
"Yes," she said, and got up as she
spoke and went to the fire, standing
withher back to him.
Neville said nothing more, but went
back to his pit, filled up the rest of the
dinner hour with his pipe, and then fell
to work again.
At tea time Sylvia came to the pit
with a can of tea and some cakes.
She set them down and stood beside
them, looking down at him.
He nodded cheerfully, wiped his face
and took up the can.
She sat down preseutly and watched
hint ia profound silence for a time, then
she said:
"What is your name?"
Now, Neville had not uttered his name
since he had entered the camp, and he
hesitated now.
"What would you say to Jack?" he
asked with a smile.
"Jack? Yee, I liko it," she replied,
after consideration.
"All right," he said; "call me Jack.
What's in a name?"
"A rose by any other name wou
smell as sweet!" she finished gravely.
Neville looked up.
"Hallo! That's Shakespeare, Tittle
one!"
She nodded.
"My word!" he said; "you're going to
spout Shakespeare! Who taugat you
------" He stopped, but too late.
He lips quivered and her eyes filled,
but she kept back the tears bravely as
she answered:
"My father. He taught me a great
deal. He----" She dashed the tears
from her eyes ."Shall 1 get you some
more tea?"
"No, no," he said, hastily.
In her courage and self-restraint the
child seemed years beyond her age, and
man -like, boy -like, he felt shy and awk-
ward. It was as if he had captured --
nay, bought --a .beautiful bird, and did
not know what to make of it, or how to
treat it, lest he should rule its feath-
ers, or frighten or hurt it.
"No, no," he said. "If I went any
more 111 get it. It's too hot for yon to
for future use.'"
run about. Look here, Sylvia, you're
not to trouble yourself, you know. Old
Mother Meth will see to all that's want-
ed."
She shook her head.
"And when you have given so much for
me! You bought me. I belong to you;
I must do all 1 can."
Neville tilted his cap on to tee f,nck
of his head and hoisted himself un to the
edge of the pit beside her.
"Put all that nonsense out of your
head, little one," he said. "If you want
anything to do, why"—another brilliant
idea visited hint—"why, be my sister!
I've never had a sister, and always long-
ed for one, and—why, there you are,
you know," and he nodded at her.
"Your sister! She thought it over
for a moment, her solemn eyes resting on
his handsome face. "Very well."
"That's all right," he said, with im-
mense satisfaction. "I'm brother .Jack,
eh? and you're sister Sall 7)o you object
to Syl?"
"You can call me what you like. You
bought—I mean, yes, Syl will do. I'd
like you 0 eall ane it. Father always
called me--" She stopped again and
turned her head away, and he saw the
muscles of her delicate neck working as
she battled with her tears. "Yes, call me
Syl, anti---Ja.ek"--witth a. momentary
hesitation --"do you work all day like
this?"
"I do, indeed, and darned monotonous
I find it. That is, I did find it; but it
won't seem so bad now I've got a sister
to bring me my tea and talk to me."
"And haven't you any brothers?" she
asked, after a pause, during which she
had not for a second removed her eyes
front his face.
Neville's face darkened.
"I've got one," he replied.
"And is he a digger?" she asked.
Neville kicked the heap of stone at
'the bottom of the pit.
"No, Syl. He's a gentleman in Lon-
don."
She turned this over in her mind for
a moment ox two, then she asked:
"And why aren't you a gentleman in
London, Jack?"
He colored and laughed.
"Oh, why—well, because I'm the sec-
ond
eaand son. I'm afraid you won't under-
stand, Syl. You see, the first son has
all the tin and the other poor devils
have to turn out and earn their grub.
That's my case,"
"Then you're here at the diggings be-
cause you were poor?"
"For that and several other reasons—
yes.
"And. yet you gave ---how much was
it ?—nine hundred pounds for me last
night!" she said, in a low, far -away
voice, but with her gray eyes fixed en
his face.
"We've agreed we'd cut that topic,
you know, Syl," he said. "We'll forget
it, eh? Suppose you and I pretend that
we've bean brother and sister all along,
but that we've only just come across
one another. How's that? Do you think
I shall answer as a brother?" -
She took up the strong brown hand
in her small pair and turned it over,
then nodded at him, and without a word
laid it down on the edge of the pit
again, and, getting up, walked back to
the. lint.
C1LA1.'TEIt V.
On the night Neville Lynne bought
Silvia Bond the House of Commons in
London was unusually full. .An import-
ant debate was in progress, and that
evening Mr. Gladstone had spoken with
even more than his wonted eloquence,
and all about the Rouse -•-in the galler-
ies, in the lobbies and even outside,
where a big crowd hung about and wait-
ed—there was the peculiar atmosphere
of excitement which only political events
can produce.
Not only had the great orator spoken,
but speeches had been delivered by sev-
eral
eweral of the other stars in the political
firmament, and perhaps no one of them
had attracted more attention than that
of Sic Jordan Lynne.
Two gentlemen had witnessed the pro-
ceedings from the front of the strangers'
galleries, and one of them, who had
scarcely removed his eyes from Sir Jor-
dan's tall, thin figure while he had been
speaking, looked at his companion with
a thoughtful smile.
"That man's going to make his mark,"
he said to his friend.
"Who—Jordan Lynne? Yes. I sup-
pose so. Clever speech, wasn't it? Do
you know him at all?"
"I•Ve]l, 14vas 1;up by with him,"
said the last sl •mina "13ut I can't say
I knew him. 1 bat *i;: very much wheth-
er any one knows 11101."
The second man nodded.
"7 know what you mean. No, .Lynne's
a dark horse."
"How long has he been Sir Jordan?"
asked the other. "I've been away such 1
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a deuce of a time that I've lost totseh of
events, you know."
. "How ' long? Oh, about eighteen
months, more or less, 'Ines, hie father,
old Sir Crevelle, died about seventeen
or eighteen months ago, and this Jordan,
the eldievfllet'st son, eame:into the baronetcy
--and t!, a money, Strange history, old
(.'s."
"Tell me," said his friend, as arm in
arm they went down the stairs and
sauntered on the terrace in front of the
House. "I've hearth sonietliing about
him but forgot exactly what."
"Well, it's soon told. Old Greville was
an eccentric. A man Svith a mania, you
know. Seems that when he was a young
man he fell in love with a girl. She was
below him in position, but Greville was
mall about her, and, notwithstanding
that she was engaged to another young
fellow, Greville brought pressure to
heals—monetary pressure, I expect --in-
duced or ordered her to break off with
her lover and promise i) marryhim,
Lynne." —
"Nice man!"
"Yes: But it didn't mine off a
the day before the marriage t
bolted with her own true love ai
Greville in the hole."
"'That's distinctly ,good," said
toner.
"Not so bad. Greville . Lynr
awfully cut up; most men are en
eircs, but most men get over it i
and if they don't exactly forget
who jilted them_, forgive her. 01
ville didn't. Ile sat himself delib
to work to hunt down hisstn
rival. swore a big oath _;that he
him. and- -did it."
"flow do you mean?" inquire
friend.
"Well, 1 don't know all the dere
I've heard people who were in tl
say that Greville stuck to th
fellow's trail like a bloodhounti
while professing to be his friend.
and schemed to effect his ruin.
years to accomplish, of eourse,
was accomplished at last and 5
ville had the satisfaction ofsee
rival a broken nen and an outea
"And this is the nineteenth ter
believe?"
"Exactly" assented the speaks
it's only in the nineteenth centu
you ean do that sort of thing•
old days you went out after d
stuck your enemy under the fi
Now you bet with him on the s
change, run horses against hin
turf, slander him, rob him of
tation, and ultimately get a gi
more revenge out of him than f .!
him with a hole in liinv as in i
old days. The man Sir Grevi
sworn to ruin—and 'did -disc
The wife, I believe, died of gri
anxiety."
"any children?"
"]don't know. I fanny there t
but I'm not sure."
"Poor woman! What a fiend
dan's father must have been!"
"Yes, 1 think he 'was. Aeeo3
poetical justice he ought to he
punished in some. way. But he '
at least. in this worltt ee-fl
like the bay tree,ti:
touched turned. to gold."
"Did he ever marry? Oh, of
I beg your pardon."
"les, he married twice. I
Jordan is the son of the. first •i
there's another boy galled—call
the son of the second." ' :,
"What's become of hint?".
The speaker shook his head. ,
"Can't say. It's rumored til
abroad somewhere. He was at.t
Sir Greville's favorite son, but of
,Jordon soon altered that. 1 f
that he hates the half-brother I
son, and that he never rested i
had brought a, quarrel about
Neville and his father, and
youngster turned out."
"A worthy son of a worthy fat
"Yes. Jordan played his car
well. The estate was a small
nearly large enough to support th
etcy properly, and of course old
could have left his money—it
enormous pile—where he choose
second boy, Neville, for.. instant
when the will was read it w
that Jordan had got the whole
estate, money, all—and that Ne
left without a penny. I show]
Jordan is one of our richest men,
you say, a man who will Make h
May be Prime Minister some d
"Hush—here lie is!" warned tl
and the two men drew,aside
shadow as Sir Jordan Lynne p,.
He was walking by himself, li
clasped behind his back, and 1
bowed slightly.
He was not a bit like Neville.
thin . and narrow -chested, with
face and a pointed ehia. Ills
he was clean -shaven --was strai•
hard; the lips stuck close as
owner were always on guard. S
persons knew the color of his
Sir Jordan had an unpleasant
keeping them veiled under u
thick and white lids. It was no
possessing face by any Means,
no one could glance at it,withot
nizing that it was the face of
and intellectual man, a' man
large quantity of brain powe>
strong will to use it .
A word must be said about hi
They were large and bony, bu
larly white, so that when he rais
while he was speaking you felt a
by them, and watched them ink
the face, ti,aich was, perhaps,
speaker's advantage.
He was in evening dress that night,
for lie was going on to a reception when
the house rose --but he always wore
dark colored clothes.
A man's voice is supposed to be the
index of his character; Sir Jordan's was
soft and slow- - (excepting when he
was addressing a 'urge audience, and
even then it was never loud or vehe-
ment, and always beautifully under hiss
control,
Since his father's death ,Sir Jordan
had "come very much to, the front" in
other than politieal ways. He was ex-
tremely liberal. "Sir Jordan Lynne,
66
hy i ..eco me
r. it a 's Pink t'" its"
The Particulars of a Remarkable Cure Told by a
Presbyterian Clergy an= -==The Sufferer Drought
Back Fro `li Death's Door.
St. Andrew's Manse,
Cardigan, P. E. I. Jan., 1908,
Though 1 have never been sick my-
self, and have not lead occasion to use
Dr, Williams' Pink Pills, I thought you
ought to know of the remarkable cure
they have whought in Mr. Olding's
case.
tat ine, „
eri-
as
bor
0w.
:th-
go
to
ax-
ion
ed
ell.
tad
eir
af-
ut
VAS
en
ud
tglr
re-
nd
he
,fly
len
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>w.
oc-
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ed
ra-
nd
et-
er
a
all
dy
nd
nd
en
ern
ed.
the
up
ave
I'he
by
iib
v as
up
"ith
an
, or
him
had ever seen him, for, as I said, he
had always been ailing. In sheer des-
peration he had asked his wife to get
him Dr. Williams' Pink Pills. They
soon began to help him. His appetite
and strength began to improve, and to
the astonishment of his fancily and
friends he rapidly regained his health.
Now, though the burden of well nigh
four score years is upon him, he is
able to do a fair day's work, and is in
the enjoyment of good health, even
the asthma has ceased to trouble him
as In former years.
Mr. Olding himself, as well as his
neighbors and the writer of this letter,
confidently believe that his rescue
from the very jaws of death—seeming-
ler so miraculous -As due under the
blessing of Clod to the tamely and eon-
tinuous use of Dr. Williams' Pink PM:a
IIEV. EDWIN SMITH, M. A.
Mr. Olding himself writes: "I am
glad Rev. Mr. Smith bas written yon
about my wonderful cure, for I confi-
dently believe that if it had not been
for 1)r. Williams' Pin]( Pills I would
have been dead long ago. It would be
impossible to exaggerate the desperate
condition 1 was in when I began to
use the Pills. No one thought I could
get better. I scarcely dared hope my-
self that Dr. Williams' Pink Pills
would bring me through, but they did
and I have ever since enjoyed good
health. Though I am seventy-nine
years old, people are always remarking
on how young I look—and I feel young.
I can do a fair day's work and I am
better in every way than I had been
for years. I cannot say too much in
praise of Dr. Williams' Pink Pills and
t take every opportunity I can to
recommend them to friends who are
ailing."
two
leen
yet
like.
with
ooks
he'd
ind."
that
ther
n"—
the
used
rge!
the
Jor-
t on
head
ntly,
out,
lar -
gates
ollect
oeca-
i rais-
lean-
miled
bk
hacad
fully
'ling a
Id not
, lcan-
e cab,
ler his
11:n
the
bserv-
sofa
ing
or
'thy
>net,
f ter
a •low's
g the
face,
smile
stair-
ays
lit -
f a
ex-
tremely good-natured. Young a via just
out adored her, and their mammas court-
ed her, for it was said that for the last
three seasons the best matches had been
made under Lady Marlow's auspices, and
that the best chane a girl had was to
have Lady Marlow for a friend.
She was a little woman with a pleas-
ant countenance, e, pair of bright eyes
which saw half -way through a brick wall
and a tongue sometimes appallingly
frank and candid. .She stood just in-
side the drawing room, receiving her
guests, and she gave Sir Jordan her
band and a smile, as she had given them
to e' hundred other persona that even-
ing, and she did it without yawning or
even loolcing tired, though her feet
ached, her head ached, she ached all
over.
A great deal of pity is expended, and
deservedly, on the hard worked poor,
the dock laborers, the factory hands,
railway servants and'cabmen; but no
one has, as yet, thought of getting up a
strike among the terribly hard worked
members of fashionable society.
Come to think of it, Lady Marlow had
worked as hard as any woman in Lon-
don that day. She had got up early to
read and answer her letters, notwith-
standing that sire had not, gone to bed
until three o'clock that morning; she
had spent the forenoon at the opening
of a fancy bazaar, had made six calls in
the afternoon, had sat at the head of the
table during a wearisome dinner party
and now, just at the time when happier
people were in bed and asleep, she was
standing between the hat room and the
draughty stairs, shaking hands and smil
ing like a mandarin with a host of peo-
ple, most of whom she scarcely knew,
and did not care if she never sew aga&n,
And yet there were girls, sweet, in-
nocent, ignorant girls, just launched on
the side of society, who actually envied
Lady Marlow, and whose only ambition
was to marry a viscount and do likewise.
(To be continued.)
dam
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0 _ .
Our Own Minstrels.
Tambo—Mistah Walkah, kin yo' tell
me de diff'unce 'tween de late Lyddy E.
Pinkum an' a couple of ice pitchahs in
a hospital?
Interlocutor ----No, Sam; 1 shall have to
pass that up. What is the difference
between the late Lydia E. Pinkham and
a couple of ice pitchers in a hospital?
Tambo—De one am yours for health
an' de uddah am ewers for sickness.
Interlocutor --Ladies and gentlemen,
while the usher is gathering up the re-
mains of the ill-fated man who got that
off, the renowned balladist, Iefr. Hinck
O'Limburg, will favor you with his'cele-
brated song, "I Loved Her Fondly; But
She Handed Date a Loaded Cigar."
A Model.
Mrs. Scott—You used to point Tom
out to us as a model husband, and now
you say he's lazy.
Mrs. Mott ---Well, hes' n. model, all
right; only he isn't a working model. --
Boston Transcript.
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