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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Herald, 1904-06-24, Page 7it r001.111•4144 Paillit1111.11.111.11 "8e has swallowed it," he said ; 0iand see—there is some color Doming 'back to his lips ! Lady Chevenix, speak to him again." "Owen," she said—"my dear, can you speak to me ?" And this time .ere was no mistake ; one of his eye- lids moved, and his lips trembled •faintly. "He Is gutting better !" she cried. '"1 can see his lips move I" They redoubled their efforts, and :presently the pale lips parted. Felix gave him a little more brandy. They left nothing undone that they could do, the four who stood so anxiously by him—his wife, Fella, the butler, ,and Mrs. Wardley. At last the bar- onet gave a deep sigh and opened his eyes. His wife bent over him. "Are you better, Owen ?" she ask- ed, gently. He looked up at her. "Better?" he repeated. "I am all right r "Tell me what is the matter?" "I had a napty fall. I remember it now," said Sir Owen. "ft stunned me. I do not remember howl I came home through." They told him, and he listened at- tentively. "So hlantagenet fell on me," he said. "I wonder that he did not kkill me. As it is, I am not hurt. I am stunned—dazed a little. Very likely I fell upon my head; but it is wonder- ful that I am not hurt,' "I am very thankful,"' put In Lady Chevenix. "It might have been so much worse." "Yes, it might. I own now that my conduct was very foolish. Violet, you will give all those poor fellows who helped to bring me home a handsome reward, .vf1, you. not? Lansdale, I lam glad that you aro with me. You will stay, will you not ? I shall be all right to -mor row." They asked him if he had any pain. He said "No." There was a strange giddiness in his head, and a strange sensation of numbness in his body ; but, save Tor that, lie felt all right. The old butler, when he heard that, turned and ,quitted the room. He felt sure as to what was coming. Sir Owen lay perfectly still. The lamps were all lighted, and their clear brilliant light fell an the com- passionate face of Felix Lonsdale and on the troubled one of Sir Owen's !wit a. Rima briah:t and pleasant every- thing lacks:" said the barnna-t, "ITow, strange it seems to be iyinef here ! I shall get up to -morrow." Yet, when he tried to- move, there was a sense of helplessness that he could not understand. " It is strange," be said to Felix, "that I have neither wound nor bruise. I was quito stunned, but that is all. This numb- ness will go away after a few hours' rest. I am so glad you aro here, Lonsdale. You will not leave me to- night, will 'you!? 1 feel strangely wakeful, and it is dreadful to lie awake through the long hours of the night."' "Of course, 1' will stay," he re- plied, "and Lady Chbvenix, too." "Hew strange it was, Lonsdale, that you and I should have been talking about deaths this morning! It must have been a foreboding of this accident. I have had a won- derful escape. 1 shall never forget ate I cam not thank hoevlit was that brute did not kill me. Violet, come nearer to me, and let me h'o]d your hand. What a strange sensa- tion it is to be frightened at noth- ing, as I am!" She came nearer to him and took his hands in hers ;, he looked at her. "I have had a narrow; escape," he said, again, with a shuddering cry—"a, narrow; escape. Violet, till's will do what no lecturing and no sermon could do. It will make me a better man. I will be a better wan, my dear—1 will, indeed. I will give up {brandy, and I Will be kinder to you ; I will, Violet. I will look after things better than I have done. I !will help the poor and go to church,' There was a brief silence, and then he started suddenly'. "I was asleep," he said —. " asleep and dreaming. -How; strange ! I shall be better to -morrow. 1 wish; this feeling of numbness would go. It is nothing, but it is uncothfortable—I cannot stir. I shall be a better man after this,' Violet. We shall be happier than we have ever been yet. I wish to -morrow were here, that I might get up. Felix, you need not send for any doctors ; I shall not want any: My head is dizzy ; it will soon be all right.,, • " They sent for doctors as soon as you woro carried home," remarked Lady Chevenix. " They need not see me, if they come," ho said. "You can tell them 1 have no pain, no lvuunu, no bruise. I do pot 'like doctors, and I shall be all right to -morrow." Ten o'clock and eleven o'clock struck. He talked to them -the whole :tithe ; but at eleven he complained more of the 'terrible numbness and the inability to move. " I lie here like a log," he said.. "1 ehall be glad When to -morrow comes," He looked haggard and rest - lees as the time wore on. " I will not ask; for brandy," he remarked, °tli'ough I would like some; but 1 mean to give it up -I do, indeed. You Will see, Violet, how happy We shall be when I am well," It was nearly midnight when the doctors came—Dr. brown, the old established practitioner, and Dr. Brune, the clever young physician from London, who; had bought a practice in Lilford Tj ey lo.oked in wonder at the scene—the superb room, the pale, lovely woman in her dress of blue velvet and pearls, the man lying on the bed. Felix explained rapidly what had hla.ppened. "I am all right," eaid Sir Owen. "They need not have troubled you, gentlemen. I have no pain, no bruise, na :wound. The fall stunned me—thlht is all." The deacorct looked at each other and then asked Lady Chevenlx if ehle would leave them with her husband; "There is no need," he said, im- patiently. "Lonsdale, never mind whatthey say; do not go." "I will not be long away," said Felix. He did 'not like the look that hlad passed between the doctors ; it was not a hopeful one. He touch- ed Lady Chhvenix gently on the arm. "Let us retixe for afew minutes," he said; and, kissing her husband's face, Violet rose and quitted the room. They did not go' far. Through the oriel window at the end of the corridor, the sum- mer moon was shining, and they both walked thither. She looked up at Felix, and Ile saw that she trembled. "I am frightened," she said. "It seems so strange." In perfect silence they stood at the window watching the moonlight on the gardens. They had been there quite twenty minutes, when the door of Sir Owen's room was slowly op- ened, and Dr. Brene came to them. "I have bad news for you," he said, In his grave, full Boice. "Lady Chev- enix, you must be brave. I have vary bid news." She could grow no paler. She stood, white, calm, and self possessed, before him ; but her heart was beat- ing painfully, and every nerve was strained to the utmost. "You must promise to listen qua• y to vela, 1 have to say. Tett me, first, whether Sir Owen has any worldly affairs to settle." Lady Chevenix looked at Felix as though 6'he hardly understood. "Ile cannot have much to do," it eaid. "bis well was made and sieve some months since," Site seemed to understand neithe question nor answer. Site looked a the doctor. "What is it ?" she asked. "1 d not understand. Tell me about in husband." "He is very 111, Lady Chevenix- very i11 indeed." "But," she cried, "he has no pain - he has no wound!" "So much the worse. Any pal Would bo better than none. Tli truth ie—now promise me to be calm Lady Chevenix—the truth is tha Sir Owen has injured his spine, an that there Is no chance for his life. She trembled so ranch that th doctor brought a chair and place her in it. He asked Felix to ge ver some wane. "Try," he said, "to bear up fo a few hours. Your husband canna live longer, and you must be wit: him. You must comfort him to th last. Try to bear up." "I will,"' tine replied. "My poo Owen ! And he does not know ?'' "No. He knows nothing of it yet,' he answered. "Drink this wine an come back to him. It is midnigh now, and he cannot live until sun rise. Come at once, Lady Chevenix you must tell him, if you can, the. he has to die.' , "I tannin:,"' ale said. '• know it is my place — m, duty—but I cannot do it. In soma things I am weaker than a woman this is one of them." "Then I must tell him myself," r turned the doctor, as he moved awa slowly ; "Out that Is not as it shoul be." "Felix," she said, "I have nev seen anyone die. T know nothing death. I am terrified at the thoug] of it. Do help me." "1 will," he answered -"all that,., Can." They went bank to the room, and Sir Owen iooked up as they entered. "Why did you let me be tortured with doctors 7" he cried. "I was get- ting better quiet<ly, and they have. frightened me with their long faces. They say—oh, listen, Violet—they say that I am going to die !" He uttered the last word with a scream they never forgot. "It is all nonsense:" he continued. "My back Is burt with, the fall—that !s all ; it is nothing more—nothing more, Leasure you. Lonrdiile,send for your father. I want to see hien ; lie has always been kind to me, in his way. Ho will see at once that 'there is nothing the matter ; send for ban." Felix left the room at once and Sent Martin off for his father. He asked 11 the carriage had returned with Mrs. Haye, and wits told that it had not. Ho went back to the rooni and found Violet kneeling by her Husband's side. Her head, with the golden Hair all unfastened, was on the pillow, and she was trying to reason with him. CHAPTER YLZI. At one o'clock in the morning Darcy Lonsdale reached Garswood. He had bo words In whiCli to express his surprise and, dismay on hearing of Sir Owen's accident. He bad return- ed home on the previous evening from London, and a low hours afterward received the summons to Garewood, IXe went direct to Sir Owen's roan, and was startled by the loud ery With which the dying man received • „Come bare, Darcy," said Sir Owen, "You leave more sense than all the doctoral put together. Do 1 look like a dying man ?"" ""You look better than I expected; to find you," answered Mr. Lonsdale. " say 1 d',Phey, say Yet my spinethey is ani red, Tying. am talld- dalen iwhng tothyou sun :risclowes 1;. yetshatllheybe dead. say( Et is absurd—say iG is absurd, Lons. e." Mr. Lonsdale looked down with' in- finite a'ity on the face that was al-, most convulsed with terror. "I am afraid," he said, 't'hat you have heard the truth.' It would be eru.el to give you one false hope. It is dime for you to make your reace With heaven." Sir Owen 'turned his agonized face to alis wife. t , Oh.. 'Violet, they arc all aga'nst me, my dear, but you! You do not believe it, do you ? You are kind- er, and you care more for me. What; Is my life to them.? Tell me—do you believe that I ani going to die ?" • She whisserod her answer. aro one heard it but himself, and with a wild cry he turned away with his face. "They are all alike!. They want me to .die 1 They will not let me livei" he exclaimed. Dr. Brown stopped his wild raving by telling him that the quieter be Was the longer he would live. The presence of the two doctors, how- ever, irritated Sir Owen so greatly that they were compelled to go down stairs. Felix followed them. The night had grown cold and chill. A storm was brewing ; the wind was wailing round the house, bending the tal ltrees and robbing them or leaves. The servants were all up, and a fire Bad been lighted in the library. Felix ;ordered hot cotfoe 'rnd sent some to his father and Lady Chev- enix. "This is a terrible state of things," said one doctor to the other. "There seems to be no sense of what should bo done. We ought to send for the vicar. " "Yes, it would be better,"' agreed the other. "It would save appear- ances. But I am no believer myself in deathbed conversions." "You forget," rejoined his friend, "that mercy may be extended even at the last moment." "No ; I do not forget that. But I think the best •preparation for death is a good life. I would not change places with Sir Owen." Felix sunt at once for the Vicar of Lilford, and then returned to the baronet's room, leaving the doe - tors together. Sir Owen nad grown very quiet now. He Iay with 'Violet's hands clasped in his, as though cling - tela them tliey,° must iio something far me." They eae•re brought back, and such an hour passed then as ;they hoped Keever to see again. Sir Owen's ter- rible codes, fees screams of fear --for. be was afraid to die —Horribly( afraid of the unknown future—die:. tressed. them. It was swill a scene that those present were long in for- getting it. Then, when the bright sun came forth in his ,piendor, and and the birds chirped loudly, the bar. onet turned his face to his wife, sigh- ed softer, and his spirit fled. Tao had been dead sane minutes be- fore the doctors found it out ; and t:•lie same mgilded the dead face of the husbasunbeansd and the white, beautiful living fans of the wife. They carried her away ; for the horror of 'tete scene proved too .much for her. Slee was so overwhelmed as to cause alarm among those who laved her: It was bright morning then. The doctors took some break- fast, and each went off to his duties,. Lady Chevenix lay in her room, with Mrs. Hoye keeping anxious watch by her. Felix went home, and Darcy Lonedate ;remained, to take charge of everything. The gloom of .the next few days was great. Into the darkened house there came no. sunlight. People kept going and coming, alt intent on the same melancholy business -prepara- tions for the funeral. Dull, gloomy clays they were, into which came nb gleam of hope. ISir Owen's death' caused great dis- may ; still no one was very much surprised at his untimely end ; and, curiously enough, .. the suddenness of It excited great pity. People who had spoken unkindly,' to slim, and condemned his faults most vig- orously. now grieved most for bim. His sins and errors seemed to be cov- ered by the great, dark thick veil of death. . ; ; The day of his funeral came and half the county attended. Stir Owen was buried in the church -yard at Lilford, where the oak -trees seemed to murmur among themselves that they had foreseen what would hap- pen, in the early) days, when he walked under the spreading shade of their great branches. Then came the reading of the will. The lawyers and trustees assembled In tlio library,, -and Lady Chevenix, in her widow's dress, entered soon af- terward, accompanied byl Mrs. Hoye. There was some little commotion at her entrance. One gentleman brought a chair, another a foot -stool. She looked so delicately,' lovely in her widow's dress, her golden hair half hidden byl a 'pretty Parisian cap, the heavy' folds of .rich crape sweeping the ground. Lord Arlington hasten- ed to meet her, and, after afew kindly words, took his station by, her side. It was well known that he and Captain Hill were the two executors of the will. TIe spoke some few words to her in a low voice, and then botb composed themselves to listen. It was a good and just will, evi- dently the product of a, thoughtful Mind. Mr. Lonsclalo bad, in fact, sug- gested almost every clause in it. Every old servant in the house bad I a hnndrome legacy'; the trustees, all • Sir Owen's cl,i friends—every one was + remembered. The bait of his fortune, with Garswoad, was left to his . "dearly beloved wife." There was a very handsome bequest to Francis 1 Kaye, and ono to the vicar ; there was a large sum left to each char- ; ` ity in the neighborhood. Thera was a murmur when the reading ceased. Every' one was pleased. Lady Chevenix bowed as she quitted the room, and the gett- tlr,mcn stood in little groups to talk about her. What a fate !" said Lord Arling- ton. "So voung and so beautiful! She will have an income of over thirty thousand pounds per annum, too. Want a strange fate 1" (To tae Continued.) • t. BANISH THE WRINKLES. 1. t e which every woman dreads, are not necessarily a sign of age. Paler of , face, wrinkles and ra prematurely - aged appearance are the outward 1 indication of those ailm'ents that .af- 8. fleet womankind alone, and from which ehe too often suffers in un - e complaining silence, rather than eon- - suit a doctor, In this condition Dr. - Williams' Pink Pills are women's best friend. i`11hey actually make ly new, rich, red blood, and this blood et in Many Cases They Ate Merely Signs of the Ailments of ,,omen. A woman's ace plainly indicated the state of her health. Wrinkles, rieu. J:Tie utrds Are chirping i Now who is right.? They said that I ehui nd be (lead before the dawn! Drwxr these haat Inge, Violet, and put out the la,mpi It is dawn now; I see the red light in, the share I an right, and the doc- tors are wrong." 'They drew the hangings and put out the lamps, and the dawn came flushing; into the roan. Tho great window faced the east, so that the first rays of the sunshone direct- ly into the room. How gray 'and Hag- gard Sir Owen's face looked as those beams touched it I Darcy Lonsdale discerned wliat• Violet could not—the speedy) coming of death. He knelt clown by, the dy- img man's side, and no spoke to him as no one would have thought ho could speak. He dwelt ad inucli upon the mercy of (Heaven and the good- ness of God that Sir Owen's pale lips trembled. "I wish," he said, "that I had thonglit of all that before. It is too' late now —much too late." The vicar. came ; but when he stood by' the baronet's death -bed it was. perceptible to all that Sir Owen nee.. thee heard nor understood, Ile roused himself soon afterward, However. "I feel very ill, Violet," he said "very 111 indeed. I Have he strength; I can not move. Can itbe true what than saki ? Call the doctors back, and acting upon the' nerves and all the organs of the body, bring new health and Happiness to weak, weary and despondent women. Mrs. John Mc - Kerr, Chickney, N.V.T., tells for the benefit of other suffering women have ahe round new health through the use ot, Dr. Williams' Pink Pills. "For Years," ears," says Mrs. Mclierr, "1 was greatly afflicted • with the ail- nrents that make the lives of so many of my sex miserable. The suf- feripg I endured can only be Under- stood by those who arc similarly of i flitted. I tried many medicines b found none that belped me unti began the use of Dr. Williams' P Pills. These stave actually made • feel like a new person, and the Tering I had 'endured almost tinually has passed away, and is no longer she burden it seemed. I thit:k these pills their weight in gold to an who from female complaints or (frost read on." We ask every suffering wo give Dr. Williams' Pink Pill trial. Thee will not disappo and the benefit they give is and,tbey benefit they will gi for an hour or a day—'t ie 1• 1 ant. You can get three pills any dealer in medicine or by n from the Dr. Williams' 'Medicine 1 Brookville, Ont., at 50 'cent;. a . or six boxes for $.2.50, ;lee that full name, "Dr. Wl]liatns' Pink PI for Pole People" is on the wrappe around every box. NATURE'S WARNING .SIGNAL The cry of a babel is nature's, wrltl+P' Ing signal that there is something. wrong. If a little one is fretfu: nervous or sleepless, the safe► thine; tot do is to_admipister q, dose of Blaby'a Qwin Tablets. They ,speedily cure all the little ills of childhood, and give sound, natural sleep, because they re-` move the cause or the wisalrefainenell and crossness. et's. T. L. MbCormiol4 Pelee Island, Ont., says ; "1 anal, never worried about baby's aeadthi when I have the Tablets in the! house; they always give prompt re-' lief for all little ailments." Tiber "(labiate are good for children of all. ages, and are guaranteed to contain' no opiate. If you do not find tha Tablets at your Medicine dealers send 25 ceats to Mae Dr. Williams' Med- icine Cao., Brockville, Ont., and a box will be sent you by mail, : post paid MEAT ON THE FARM. How to Kill and Cut Up Cattle Sheep, Etc. Department of Agriculture, Commis .b ener'a B,ranoh, Much valuable information re- garding the butchering, curing and keeping of meat is given in Farmers' Blulletin No. 185, clef the 'U. S. Depart, meat of Agriculture, entitled 'Mteat; one the Iearm." The many illustrations enable a,ny one to follow) closely the directions for killing and cutting upi cattle, sheep and slwsine. The general advice given is wrathy of close at- tention by all farmers who do not depend on their !butcher for their, meat s i ply. Selection of animals—?line authro of the bulletin points out that in the selection of animals for meat health, should be given first consideration. l''o matter 'vow; fat an animal magi be or hcfwi good its form, if it is not in perfect health the bast quality of meat cannot be obtained .If suffering) from fever, or a.ny serious derange- ment of the system, the flesh will not bs wholesome food. Flesh of animals that have recovered from the ravages of disease before slaugh ter, is not likely to cure wall and is very difficult to keep after curing,• Liruises, broken limbs, or like awl, tints all have the same effect on the meat as ill -health, and, unless the animal can be killed and dressed im- mediately after such accident it is not best to use the meat for food. A: rise of two degrees or more in the animal's temperature at or just pree vious to •slaughtering is almost sure to result in ;stringy, gluey meat and to create a tendency to sour in cur- inCgondition.—First class meat can- not be obtained fromanimals that are poor in flesh. A reasonable amount of flesh must be present to give juiciness and flavor to the flesh and the fatter an animal is, witbi reasonable limits, the better will leo meat. The presence of la amounts of fat is not essential, h ever, to wholesome meat, , and far more important that an anim In good Health than that it b trenely fat. It is not ,vise an animal that is losing f the muscle fibres are shr volume and contain corres less water. As a eonseq meat is tougher and dry I an animal ' gaining in f 1 posite emanation obtains { ter quality f meat is l.1rteeding nd quail meat is ly dep, Health t conditlo main sl tered, ar quality eat is raino desireded fi 'marbplingori fat and lean is scrub stock, no show, ring ani in quuallty of be a connect` evwn and de nicely marb fly explain urla.nt hal ways deli used for Of small meat. Ago flavor' quite a fact t more 1' from yo very yo is wiat fatte prof con eigl per