HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Huron Expositor, 1904-05-13, Page 7kr- AY •
,
Y 13. 1904
art Palpitated.
FAINT MID DIZZY VELLA
ELT WEAK AND NERVOUIL
sagassftr.r.aavaa
HURON EXPOSITOR,
MARY HAMILTON'S ROMANCE
COULD SCARCELY EAT.
cy-ion tea.
COOl. niountait
;iousness the plant can, .
ties.
sing t —invaluable for
Ask tor tbee. ;
11wel
fished 1879,
Cough, Croup
ough, Grip,
piphthe. lc
leihiATICS
; fee the diseases indicated. It
tried over the diseased surfaces
longed and constant treatment.
pniG bronchitis, find iramediats
iDescriptive booklet free.
ntreale Canadian Agen 4
*law
nouth are effective and safe for
tion of the throat
'le ALL DIRI'Gcteers
will only be a matter of s
eather will make you shed -
a prepared for it No doubt
irae all right under an ovor-
li of the Spring sun f
that yott require something
We have the best, the
4 Sprig Suiting& and Over -
make your Spring suit -4
TORTE
Or of the
Lxford.
'r You can get a large
into the door and over
lowing coals, without
ping or getting the
Of the fire yourselE,
at one of our agen-
or write to us for
e Gurney"
oun dry Co
Too-ont
lattresi
[E Velleaaceleve02'
7
LE, SEAFORTH,
ST
urtain SaIe
n full swing, Just what ie
,.keeper is looking for setae
-
way (rf HE curing the best.
ve now . a complete /angst
kng her carpets and lace our-
[taies, they are beauties.
arriving every few days.
in great variety. Never
Wed Hats and Bonnets at'
Caps, we ha 6 eXeelient"
o your advantage.
larige fax goods.
BLYTIL
TWO ISOM Off
MILBURN'S
SEART and KM
PILLS
*wed Um Edmond Brown, Inwood, est.,
whoa elm bad almost gleon vo holm
_of *Tor getting wolf again.
She writes t was so run down that
I was not able to do my work, was shod
(breath, bad a sour stomach every nig-fit
zed could scarcely eat. My heart palpi-
tablet, I had faint and dizzy spells and felt
weak and nervous alt the time. My
husband got me a box of Milburn's Heart
and Nerve Pills but I told_ hirn it was no
noes that I had given up hope of ever
being cured. He however persuaded not
to take them and before I had used hall
the box I began to feel better. Two boxes
made a new woman of me and I have beet
well and have been able to do my won
over since,"
r Milburn's Heart and Nerve rills ens
p etc box, or 3 for $135, all dealers o-
101 T. MILlif.IRN CO., Lim it'd,
TORONTO. esr.
VETERINARY
IMF GRIEVZ, V. S., honor graduate of Ontario
oi Veterinary College. A .idiseamee of Domesel
labia, treated. Calls promptly attended to $o
aeons aame.eate, Veterinary Dentstry a epeolaity.
Ogee and revidence on Goderloh street, °ea door
of Dr Set's offioe , Sealorth. 11124i
HARBURN V. S.—Honorary graduate of the
r Ontario Veterinary College and Honorary Mem-
ber of the Medical Aesoeletion of the Ontario_ Veter-
inary College. Trette disesees of all domestic aelmals
by tee mod modern principles. Dentietry and Milk
'lever i spevialty. Office opposite Diek's Hotel,
Main &mot, Beeforth. All olden left at the hotel
will :naive prompt attention. Night calls revolved
011124. 1871-52
LEGAL
JAMES L. KILLORAN,
• stride Solicitor, Coneeyances and Notary
Public. -Meney to loan. Offio• over Pickard's Store
Main Sheet Seafortb. 1528
11. S. HAYS,
Banister, Solicitor, Conveyancer and Notary Publio.
Solicitor forthe DOU11131011 Bank. Office—in rear of
ellotainfon Bank„ Seeforth. Money to loan. 1235
11. BZST, Barrister Solicitor, Conveyancer
• Notary Publio. Oflieee up stairs, over 0. W
Were booksflore, Main Stseet, &Mora, Ontario.
1617
ENOLNIZEITID, eiscoessor to the late firm of
„• IfoCaughey h Hohnested. Barrister,iloliedIor
miaow, and Motu! Solicitor for the Clan
Ain Bank of Oommeroe. Money io lend. Farm
die eds. Oilloe 11 Goott's Block, Mein aired
slob.
O.IOKINSON AND GARROW, Solicit-
ors, eto., Goderich, Ontario.
Le DICKINSON.
• 101134i 011ARLF,13 GA.RROW L. L B.
DENTISTRY.
" F. W. TWEDPLE,
DENTIST, e-
radiate of Royal College of Dental Surgeons of On
Inc. poet graduate course in crown and bridge work
11 8312001,- Chicago. Local anesthetics for
pinkie extraction of teoth. Office—Over A. Young's
egrelery dors, Seaforth. 176e
MEDICAL,
Dr. John McGinnis,
D. Graduate London Wedeln University, member
el Geterio College of Physicians and Surgeons.
Mind, V*otisese
iftn-nextio, Shona Church
nese and Reeldenee—Fornaerly ocon4d by Mr. Wm.
Mi
nitgbi tells att4mded promptly. 1658x11
DR H !HUGH ROSS,
Graduate of 'University of Toronto 'Faculty of lded
eine, member of .College of Physicians and Sur -
even of Ontario ; paise graduate courses Chicago
Clinical School, Chicago ; Royal Ophthalmic Hoepl-
eI.London, England; University College Hospital,
'ender). England. Office—Over Ore* & Stewart's
store, Main Street, Seafortle. 'Phone No. 6. Night
calls aneweredlirone. residence on John street. 1890
Dit. F. J. BURROWS,
BM.A_M-101:VTIT=1
Offiee Ind Residetroet—Goderieh street, east of the
athodist church.
Tzeiglenosz No. 96
Coroner for the County of linron.
1586
DRS. SCOTT & MacKAY,
PHYSICIANS AND SURGEONS,
*dui* sired, opposite Methodist ohnroh,Seeforth
L 15(JOTT, graduate Victoria and Ana Arbor, and
member Ontario College of Physiolane sad
Surgeons. Coroner for County of Haien,
U. MeOKAY, honor graduate Trinity Univertiey,
gold medalled Trinity Medical College. Member
College of Phyoiciene and Simmons, Ontario.
1488
AUCTIONEERS.
9111014AS BROWN, Licensed Auctioneer for the
1_ Counties of Huron and Perth. Orders left at
A. U. Campbell's implement wareroome, Seaforth, or
Toa Exeostron Office, wilt receive prompt attention.
atiefeotion gusuranteed or no °hare°. 170841
TAMPS G. AicelleillAEL, Hemmed auctioneer for
Vtire county of Huron. Sales attended to in any,
pert of the county at moderate rates, and satisfaotion
guaranteed. Orders loft at the Seaforth post office
or at Lot 2, Contestion 2, 'lunette will receive
Prompt attention. 188241
#A
,UCTIONEBRING.—B. S. Phillips, Licensed
Anetimaeer for the oountiee of _Omen and
. Being a practical (firmer and thoroughly
tuiderstandIng the,. value of farm stock and imple-
ments, plecee me le better position to realize good
Picea. Chargee moclerate. Beefsteak:on guaranteed
or no pay. All orders left at Henson post office or
at Lot 28, Conceselon2, Hay, will be promptly
Winded to. 1709-1f
TAMES A. SMITH, licensed auctioneer for the
eounth of Huron. Sales promptly attended to
le ally part of the county iv d satiefaction guarare
seed. Address Winthrop P.. 18e6-tf -
DYE WORKS.
Having bought out the intereet of the dyeing huge
.iseut from /ire. Nickel of her late husband, Henry
!Wide, formerly of Seaforth, t am prepared to do a I
kinds of dyeing, °leaning end prowling. MI Work
done en ehort notice. .1. T. SKWARD, Victoria st.,
4 faw doors youth of the G. T. R., Clinton, Ont.
18884f
MARRIAGE LICENSES
ISSUED AT
THE HURON EXPOSITOR OFFICE,
SEAFORTH, ONTARIO.
NO WITNESSES; REWIRED:
By OR STRANGE WINTER,
The Love of Eathig.
11 TEE AMERICAN BECOM.
rrot A GOURMAND?
[Copyright, 1801, by the AtIthor.3
There is nothing of roroanes about
the life of aboard school mitre, more
especially when under the continual in-
fluence of a mother who never forgot
her gentility or that her daughter was
the child of a gentleman. The board
school mistrees who can love and be
loved again by a young man whose
sphere is the same as her own, a young
man whose aims and ambitions are on
a level with her own, can revel in ro-
mance as entirely as the hero of a novel
or the lord of the manor. A young girl
may spend her life in the stuffy class-
room of the state schools and yet invest
her lover with all the tender and idyllic
romance of a knight of old, but if she
is cut off by class grade from inter-
conrse with those men among whom
she is thrown by circumstances all the
romance which may be in her heart is
of necessity bottled up for sheer want
of an outlet,.
Mary Conway, frail and delicate of
being as she was, gentlewoman to her
finger tips, a girl in whom all the signs
of good breeding were present to a very
marked degree, was of a nature in
which romance was indigenous, and un-
til the time when she became associated
in work with Alan Stacey, the novelist,
no sort of outlet had afforded itself,
and all the natural love in her heart
had been pent up until it was filled
nigh to bursting and was -ready to over-
flow at the first kind word from a sym-
pathetic soul, at the first to412- of -a
kind hand, at the first 'glance of a pair
of magnetic eyes.
In Alan Stacey, Mary found not an
employer, but an idol. From the first
day she worshiped him. I know that it
is not a -commonly accepted idea that
a woman should love a man at first
sight. In a sense she did not do so, anda
yet she idolized him. The possibility
that one day- she might be something
more to Alan Stacey than his interpreter
never for a moment entered her head.
But she loved him with a dim, faroff,
almost a religious, feeling. He was so
brilliantly clever both in his work—for
where were such vivid, brilliant, haunt-
ing human books to be found as those
which bore his name?—ani in himself.
There were times when he worked at
fever heat untiringly, restlessly, alraost
passionately; times, when the fit was on
him, when he almost wore her out call-
ing on her to come early and to stay
late; times when they snatched their
meals and when she went home to her
bed dog tired and brain weary.
Yet always with the same charm and
sweetness of way: "Mrs. Conway, I
must get on with this while the idea is
alive in me-- You'll help me through
It, won't yon?" or "Need you go?
know it's timebut cannot we take a
little holidaytwhen it's done? Surely
It's best to make hay while the sun
shines."
At such times Mary Conway would
willingly rather have died than have
failed him. At others he would laze
through the ay's, letting his work slip
into brilliant easy gossip, telling her
his ideae, his hopes, his aspirations,
milking her look over his great collec-
tion of stamps, help to aerange his au-
tographs, discussing furniture or the
next smart little tea party that he
meant to give, and apparently wholly
unconscious that she took any more in-
terest in him than the man who waited
had done. . '
"What was your father?" he asked
her suddenly between the pauses of his
work one day when Christmas was
drawing near.
"A clergyman. He was curate" of
Elphinstowe," she replied.
• "Ab, you were young when he died ?"
"Yes, qnite a child."
"And your mother?"
"She died after I was married."
"I see. Forgive me for asking. But
were you long married? Well, of course
you couldn't have been, you are still so
young. But did you lose"—
"I lost my husband only a few
months after our marriage," Mary said,
rising suddenly from her place at the
little table where she worked and going
to the fire, where she 'stood nervously
holding her hand out to the warmth and
keeping her face half turned away from
him.
-
"He was—he was—limeaniwas he—
was he"—
"He was a sailor, captain of one of
the Red River li,ni of steamers," said
Mary almost curtly. "He wee drowned."
Mhere was a moment's silence. “It
raid have been a great shock to you,"
he mid at last. He was busily occupied
with a paper knife and a slip of note
pape; and spoke in a studiously indiffer-
ent tone as if they were discnssing some
Scott's Emulsion is the
means of life and of, the en-
joyment of life of thoUsands of
men, women and chi14ren.
To the men Scott's Emul-
s on gives the fl6sh and
str4gth so necessary' for the
':'tl-ardrgrof Consumption and the
repairing of body loses from
any wasting disease. L
-For women Scott s Emul=
sion does this and ingfe. is
a most sustaining food and
tonic for the special tlrials that
women have to bear. '
To children Scotts Emul-
sion gives food and strength
for growth of flesh rfd bone
and blood. For p• le girls,
for thin and sickly boys Scott's
Emulsion is a great help.
• Send for free sam Ie.
SCOTT & BOWNE, Ch
niSireattsi
Toronto, rlo.
509. and $1.00; all dr ggiets.
In our largest cen-
ters of population,
such as New York and
Chicago, we daily sec
more attention given
to the inner 21211111.
Cafes and lunch -rooms are filled with men
and women who seem to give all their time
and attention to thoughts of properly or
improperly feeding their stomachs. nt is
of course best to eat slowly, but not too
much," says Dr. Pierce, chief consulting
physician to the invalids' Hotel and Sur-
gical Institute, of Buffalo, N. Y. In this
edit century people devote so much time
to head work that their brain is fagged and
there isn't sufficient blood left to properly
take care of the other organs of the body.
The stomach must be assisted in its bard
work—the liver started into action—by the
use of a good stomach tonic, which should
be entirely of vegetable ingredients and
without alcohol. After years of experience
in an active practice, Dr. Pierce discovered
a remedy that suited these conditions in a
blood -maker and tissue -builder. Me caned
It Dr. Pierce's Golden Medical DLICOVtly
—an alterative extract that assists in the
digestion and assimilation of the food in
the stomach—so that the blood gets what
it needs for food and oxidation, the liver is
at the name time atarted into activity and
there is perfect elimination of waste 'nea-
ter, When the blood is pure and rich, all
the organs work without effort, and the
body is like a perfect machine.
Penn Dr. Pierce's Common Sense
Medical Adviser is sent /rex on receipt of
atamps to pay expense of customs and
mailing only. Send 31 one -cent stamps for
the book in paper cover, or 5o etamps for
the cloth -bound volume. Address Dr. R.'S'.
'Pierce, Buffalo, N. Y.
diPIMMEZIWT7M11011124711.
question absolutely impersonal to both
of them.
s"It killed my mother," said Malty,
still warming her bands.
"And you ?" He rapped out the ques-
tion in a strange, breathless fashion.
Mary looked aside at him. "Why do
you ask me this, Mr. Stacey ?" she
J
"I lost nee hasband °ay a few ntonth8
after owr marrictge.'1
asked brusquely. "I was beginning to
be happy, to forget all the horrid past.
• I'll tell you, and then never, I entreat
you, speak of it again. I sold myself
because my mother was ill and because '
she yearned to be well off. I was honest
with him, and he professed so much. I
told him I did not love him, and he
took me. Our marriage was a failnre,
a most dismal failure. • I was wretched.
I bated and .despised him. He was bit-
ter and mean and vindictive townrd
me. My poor ilittle mother was the only
one who got, any lent of satisfaction
out of the baftgain, and she did not have
It long,- poor soul, for the news of the
loss of the Arikhama killed her, and it
was as well, for he left every penny
away from me. As for me, I won't pre-
tend to be better than I am. I won't
sham. tell you the truth. I thanked
God when I found that he was gone.
Yes, I did, for I would have put myself
In the river before I would have lived
with him again."
e was older than you ?"
‘, any years. He is dead, and they
sax we should never speak 111 of the
dead. I can't help it. He was a brute.
Only a few weeks after we were mar-
ried' he struck me. Ohl •Why did you
ask me these questions? I had almost
forgotten, at least I did not always
think' of .it as I did at first Why did
you ask me?" .
With two strides Alan Stacey was by
her side. "My dear, my dear, shall -I
tell you why I asked you ?" he cried.
"Because I had a vital interest in want-
ing to know. I've always had a sort of
feeling that you belonged to that dead
husband of yours; that he stood be-
tween as, keeping us more widely apart
than if all the world stood between as.
Can't you understand that I wanted to
know—that 1—oh, Mary, child—don't
you understand- that I love you and
cannot live without you ?"
come home a ain c n 13ny as many
garments as you d pu will wants
Don't, when we ha,v th been lonely
and wret-cfmt apar let our hap-
piness wait r a o paltry GI
clothes. Let is arr".' t once."
• "But it seem so soon, a d Mary.
"Not at all. de canno po•sibly pull
It off under 0 fortnight, and'e know
each other se well The is °thing
like workingtogether f gettfng to
know somebody."
"But the ;story?" she rged. "We
must finish the story."
Alan Stacey looked gray for the-Vrst
time. "Yes,i I had forgot n the stc\ry.
Little woman, wbat a b sines@ liked
you have! Ilpromieed it f r the end of
the month, d$dn't 17"
"Yes, yon
"Yes, I shOuld like to fin sh the story,
bnt perhaper cheerfully, `if we were
to push on, We might be abl to manage
"There is ti11 half of it t do."
"And I shill want von. can't let
you spend a1 yoar days at tb old type.
writer now. I wonder if 1 c uld work
with anybody else?"
"Yon are not going to t y." said
Mare, speakft in decided tone for the
first time. !
"Is there !to way in which o e could
ease you a li!ttle?"
"Oh,- yes I !Let me have a goo typist
In the after oon, and I can clic ate the
work off verfr much more quic ledthan
Jean do it myse1f. But I don see why
I can't work just as usual. W iat differ-
ence is there -1 The fact tha know you
love me need not tnrn e lazy all at
once."
"No; not ing could do that. Rat I
shall want y u more with me. You for-
get that uj to now I have done my
morning's wlork and have been free for
the rest of t e day, and you, poor little
soul, have s t here fagging your heart
out, as I don t mean to let you do when
we are marri ..d. Of cettesceI would rath-
er work wit1 you, hdeabseyou are you,
and you k ow my thoughts almost as
they come. on interpret me to perfec-
tion. But at ithe same time I shall want
more of yowl society than I have had
the past." I
"I see no v ay," said Mary, "except-
ing, as I suggested, a typist who will
work at my dictation."
Eventnalle she gave way and con-
sented to b married Ws soon as the
proper arran ements could be made. It
was all so d fferent from her last mar.
riage. Then everything had been art
ranged for 1er; now, everything was
arranged so s to fall in with her sli
est wish. Ifer first husband had had
very little t(1) offer her, when put in
comparison With Alan Stacey. Captain
Conway had been elderly, rough, plain
and only comparatively well off. He
had demanditd inipossible things, and
when he diScovered that his desirea
were impossi le of gratification his love
for the girl hom he had sworn topro-
-
and (ther'sh had been curiously in-
termingled vith an absolute hatred.
His was the kind of nature which to
begin with s ys, "I will teach you to
love me," an Afterward, "If I cann0
'teach you -to love me, I 'Win kill youl"1
His -was the lind of nature which says),
"If I canno$ bend, I will break;" the
nature whichi looks at every' Situatiorl
of life from its own standpoint and
judges all th world entirely by its own
doings. It i always this kind of nal
tine which is inherently dominant and
• essentially do ineering. And how diti
ferent was A.1 n Stftcey I He, gifted, int
tellectual andi brilliant, was content t
lay everythin at the feet of the wonla
be loved—all the fame he bad von, th
position he ad .Made, the wealth h
had amassed. His 6sire was not to b
his wife's master, but her knight; no
• to feel that he was conferring honor
:and status upon her, but to assume al-
ways.that in giving herself to him she
was laying him under an, everlastind
and delightfq obligation. ,
.
_ It wart ritf natural that Mary waS
not only fille with love, but with al
boundless an unbounded admiration.
This was th man at whose feet sh
would have b en -content to sit for th
rest of her 1 fe, not daring to lift hert
. -eyes higher hen his knees. This wa
her king amo g men, gifted and blessed
with the ri ht royal inheritance of
genius. Thi man who asked so little,
• who gave so much,. was not one who
had power o ly over a handful of. men.
No, the nan e with which • he was en.
dowed was cne-which was known and
known app ovingly throughout the
world; kno. n wherever the English
language wa spoken; nay, more then
known, for 11 as loved
I do not ish to portray the charac-
ter of Alan tacey as that of a perfect
being Inde d I must own, what Mary
had found ou very early in her knowl-
edge of hitta.• that his besetting sin was
• idleness, i h is the!'besetting sin of
• Most spin* of storie!s. He was beset,
• foe, with Iclleness of two kinds, the
,getimine ani nelinary Aort and the idle-
° .ness whiclign iets the brain worker. It
• - is only youth obod i es who are thorough-
ly industri in art.! Great genius is
always subje t to- what it usually calls
"idleness"—in other words; to brain
fag To my mind the Most pathetic rec-
ord Oat we have of !George Eliot is
where she conveys in a letter to a friend
that she has no natural desire for work
and has to flog her,brain continually so
that she may get her proinis.ed task
completed in time. She, too, speaks of
it as idleness. And with that same kind
of idleness Alan Stacey was continually
afflicted, as he was with a real love ofl
doing nothing.
In tittles gone by be had many a day
sat down to Work in the morning, say-
ing- "N w,'.1irs. Conway, I have got
to work toda ; I have got to work bard.
Now, you ke.p me np to it." And no
sooner had it ary inscribed half a dozen
lines in her notebook than he would get
up and say, "By Jove,, they e'senother
et.
CHAPTER X.
A NEW ARRANGEMENT.
When Alan Stacey had once broken
the ice sufficiently to have told his love
to Mary Conway, he did not, by any i
means, let the grass grow under his
feet. Mary drew back a little, partly
because the pleasure of being betrothed
to the man of her heart, the man of her
brightest and most fervent admiration,
was very great. It was natural enough.
Her first engagement had been a dry as
drist business, an arrangement which
was altogether in the light of a bare
gain. There was no bargain between
her and Alan Stacey, only the sweet
and tinepoken bargain tet trust and
affection, mingled with -the respect and
admiration which the one had for the,
other. There was no question between
them as to whether be -would give het •
a dress allowance or as to what house-
keeping money she would have to spend;
there was no question as to whether
she would be able to do her duty by ,
him. No; they loved each other, and
that was enough for both.
• "But," he urged, "there is no reason
.why we should wait. We have -nothing
• to wait for. You have no relatives, and
mine do not interfere with ree. As to
• your vague and indefinite suggestion
about clothes—well, I don't know much
about ladies' dresses, but it seems to
me that you can get a couple of new
frocks in a week and that when we
Shirt , aists and dainty
linen are I made delightfully
clean and fresh with Sun.;
light Soap. 111
BACK-
ACHE
if you have Backache you have
Kidney Disease. If you neglect
Backache it will develop into
something worse—Bright's
ease or Diabetes. There is no
use rubbing and doctoring your
back. Cure the kidneys. There
is only one kidney medicine but
It cures Backache every tirne.!
Dodd's
Kidney
Pills
•
e
robin building its nest in that holly
bush 1" or some such remark, which was
interesting enough in itself, but which
did not help upon its way the story then
in hand. And often and often Mary had
had all her work cut out to keep him
chained to his task, and after they bad
come to an understanding with one an-
other it seemed to her as if' he never
meant to work again, as if he could not
keep his mind off their plans for the
future, and as if any and every subject
was more interesting to him than the
fascinating romance upon which they
were then at work.
"Yes, we will go to Monte Carlo,!'
she said at last one day, "but we will
not go to Monte Carlo, or to Paris, or
to church, or anywhere else until you
have finished this. story. Come, now, I
am waiting to her what you are going
to do with Evangeline now."
"I think I shall chuck 18 tip," was
his reply.
"No. no. To that I resolutely decline
to be a party. I am neeltoming into
your life to ruin yon. Yon/lave to fin-
ish that story before we can dream of
being married. Come, pull yourself to-
gether Thinkt Evangeline is standing
at the top of the staircase wondering
what Is going to happen next. ".
Well, in due course the story was
finished, and when the last words had
been taken down he asked her eagerly
what she thought of it.
"Give me your candid opinion," he
said.
"I think," said Mary, "that it is by
far the greatest book that you have ever
done."
And then they were married, going
quietly to church One morning, attend-
ed only by a great friend of Alan
Stacey's and the girl through whom
indirectly the marriage had come about
—the girl ateho had first given Mary the
idea of tilting up typewriting as a seri-
ous profession. Then they went back to
the Sycamores and had a dainty little
lunch, at which they made miniature
speeches, drank each other's health
and were as merry as if the party had
been one and forty instead of but four
persona Then at the last moment, just
before they rose from the table, the best
Man thought of something.
"My dear chap," said he to the bride-
groom, "there is one thing about
which you have given me no instruc-
tions. What about the announcements
to the papers?"
"Need it be announced ?" asked Mary.
"My dear Mrs. Stacey," replied the
best nian, "it is absolutely essential
Bohemian as .Stacey is—has always
been—be is yet at the same time a per-
sona grata in society, and unless your
marriage is announced formally and im-
baediately I am afraid that it will not
be so pleasant for you when you come
home again. Here, give me a bit of pa-
per, Stacey. Tell roe how y,pu wish the
announcement to be worded, and I will
see that it is in all tomorrow's papers."
•:Alan Stacey got up and fetched a
sheet of paper and a pen and ink from
the writing table in the window.
"Give it to me," said Mary. "This
is my idea what to say." • She took the
sheet of paper fronahis hand and wrote
clearly and firmly: • "On the lOth, at
the parish church, Fulham, by the Rev.
F. D. johnson-Brown, Alan Stacey,
only son of the late Colonel John
Stacey, Bengal staff corps, to Mary
Conway, daughter of the late Rev
George Haniilton."
She handed the paper across the table
to her htisband, a d he, knowing het
well, realized ine an ly that hem horror
and detestation of her first marriage
, - • L
- • e---- "
She took the sheet of vapor front his hand,
arta wrote cicarie and ftnaty.
had remained with her to such an ex-
tent that she would aot, even in the
fornial announcement, identify herself
with the man -who had commanded the
Arikhama, the man who had bought
her with a price, the man who had
given her the only blow that she had
everreceivedin the whole course of her
life.
CHAPTER XL
ON THE TOP OF THE TIDE.
One of the rules of Alan Stacey's life
was that when he took a holiday it
should be a real holiday. He was not
one of those persons who combine busi-
ness with pleasure and make themselves
an annoyance to their friends by keens.
ing the bogy of wortrever present witit
thein.
They left London immediately after
the wedding, going by slow and easy
stages to Italy, and for three long, de-
licious months they reveled in luxu-
rious happiness. Alan Stacey made
traveling SO easy. He was content to
travel for pleasure; he detested people
who made it a busineea
"No, zny dear sir," he said one day
to an enthusiastic American who was
badgering birn to go and see an Etrus-
can tomb, "1 have not gone, and I do
not mean to go."
"But, my dear sir, it is your duty to
go; you ought to go; you ought to im-
prove your mind; you ought to see all
that there is to be seen. This is a won-
derful specimen, a real eld Etruscan
tomb. You may never have another op-
portunity of seeing one so Perfect and
interesting."
"I don't care," said Alan Stacey dog-
gedly. "1 came here to enjoy myself
• with my wife. My wife doesn't care
about tombs, and I don't care about
tombs. All the Etruscan tombs in the
world will not be the smallest use to
rae. They do not interest me, and they
do not please me, and 1 refuse to be
badgered into meditations which only
irritate and annoy me. Do you go and
look at the tomb and stay there. I shall
not complain. I shall never grumble at
your choice of a habitation."
"Poor thingl He means well," said
Maty when the energetic sightseer had
departed.
"I dare say be does," Alan replied,
• with a laugh, "but I wish he'd go and
mean well somewhere else. Let as move
on. You said yeeterany that you would
like to go to Bella Villia. Let us go to
Bella Villia and lose him."
They worked their way home from
Italy at last. returning by way of the
Riviera, awl the middle of May eaey
Mrs. Alan Stacey eettled in the beauti-
ful old house at Fulham, with what
was practically the world at her feet.
How happy rhe MIS I She had been
nsed to think that. no matter what fate
awaited her in the future, the horror,
the sickening siread, the terror. the re-
pugnance, the elmilfh•ring misery, of the
past would always be with her. But it
was not so. Time, the wonderfnl phy-
sician, taught her to forget, and by the
time she found herself installed in the
Fulham house she might, so far as hen
- feelings went, have been Mrs. Alan
Stacey for ten years instead of little
more than as -many weeks.
On the very first morning after their
arrival home she sent for thelousekeep-
er who had been left in charge of the
Sycamores at the time of their mar-
riage.
"I sent for you," said Mrs. Stacey
gently, "because it is better -that we
should begin with a clear understand-
ing of how we mean to go on. You will
• quite understand that as I shall con-
tinue to help Mr. Stacey with his work
I shall have no time for housekeep-
ing. You understand Mr. Stacey's
ways, his likes and dislikes. He has
been admirably satisfied with you in
the past, and I would like you to know
now that I desire to make no change.
So long as you continue to satisfy your
master you will satisfy me. You will
please continue exactly as you have
done heretofore—your accounts, your
menus, everything jnst as before. Oea
casionally I raay make a suggestion to
you. if there is some dish that I should
like to have, or if we are having visit-
ors I may like to make some little al-
terations in the menu, but as a general
rule I do not wish to be troubled with
any housekeeping arrangements."
The housekeeper. who was a French-
woman and thoroughly knew the value
of a good place, thanked her mistress
and assured her of her fidelity and de-
votion.
Then Mary rang the bell, and when
John came in answer to the Emmons
she told him to slint the door; that she
wished to speak to him.
"John," she said, "I have just been
talking to Mine. Boniface and telling
her that I wish your master's marriage
to nutke no difference in the dornestie
arrangements. You have satisfied him
for many years, and I hope yon will
continue to satisfy him for many year;
longer. I may have to give you a few
orders, but on the -whole I wish you to
continue precisely as you have always
done."
• "You wonld like to have the key of
the cellar, ma'am ?" said John politely.
He had no more intention of giving up
the key of the cellar than he had of
giving up the rise of his senses, but to
make the offer was the highest compli-
ment he could pay to his new mistress.
Mary laughed outright. "No, John,'
she said; "I do not think the key of the
cellar would be of very much nse to me.
I am frightened of cellars, to tell you
the truth, and I shouldn't lenoW one
bottle of ivine from another. No, John;
you. understand Mrfitar;oy's ways, and
yon will please just do for him as you
have been accustomed to do. I don't
think that his marriage—our marriage
—will make him more difficult to
please. I hope finite the centrary. But,
thank you, John, for offering me the
key of the erllar. I am sure it is a very
great euniplinicnt, and I appreciate it
eeee. =Leen: e="5.-ere..2=-!:624Y.ele
30 Yrs. of Eczema
Cured at Last
Another illustration of the re-
markable power of Dr.
Chase's Ointment as a
Olt re lkor easier/3A.
On aceoult of many vain efforts to cure
cceeraa and delv • almost cram with the itch-
ing, stip ing lone wine); acccompany it
meet] d Ilnease (towable, Not so
witn there • ee used Dr. Chase's °Int-
el,f t tion' 40011 brines rrlicI
creghly owes the dis-
42-5-4 the Atilt sat smooth and
nee*
An,?erits eef Dr. Chase's Om t-
Ofie3 terielsekieesble in the borpe
ry form of skid trouble.
"'ididon Co., Ont.,
writes eee."
. Ciiises Ointment
toolifei5I.e4 with erzerna
if drXeyeffs ant hael Viten treete I by
trIteedoetofsi_Abouth ifiey all Wed te cure me.
l*ite Vbase's Ointment has cured roe eampletply
and have not had the slightest sign of the
return of title disease for ceeeredwmonths. I am
Suite seeisfied tiat I have found a permanent
cure at ISA.*
Dr. Chase's Ointment, 60 cents a boa. The
portrait and signature of -Dr. A. W. Chase, the
famous receipt book author, are on every box.
Far pains and &cites use Dr. Chase's Back.
ache Plastwo.
This failing o, ynir hair!
Stop it, or ybu wii soon be
bald. Give your hair some
1 Ayer's Hair Vigor. The fel-
, ing will stop, thc hair ',km
9..60
grow, and the scalp will be
clean and healthy. Why be 4
satisfied with poor tclir when
you can make it rl:..h?
-my, hair nearly all came reit, I teen teed
A yer's Mau Vigor and only, 01/12 bottle 014,p7,411
the fall:me Now bair CATTIR 14,1 ten' tblek ;aid
lent a 131110 Burin,
filmdom:, ti. Y.
a bottle.
M1 digrit8.
tY. earn co.,
e„, eaten, ilass.
highly."
And then she smilingly dismissed
him. and John went-eway feeling that,
after all, his master had done the very
best possible thing for himeelf.
Then she and Alan Settled down to
real hard grinding work. He declared
many times that never in the whole
come° of his exigence bad be been
kepp to work so rutbleeely and E0 per-
sistOntly as by hie new leek mietrese.
"By Jove, if I had thmight that you
were going to gond inc kiLl like this.
ehould have thought twice before
asked you to come hero for good and
"Oh. no, you wouldn't 1" raid Mary.
"It is very good for yon. n Da you know
you aro perfectly heppy ee don't pre-
tend anything elee."
And it was true caough. She cer-
tainly managed him and his work ad-
mirably, for by het piug him up to the
mark for certain hours wa e able to
be free herself eta fixed table every day.
And there was never an idle Minute for
either of them, for, as 1 eaid awhile
ago, Alan Stacey had always been a.
persona grata in eociety, and his many
friends all seemed but too anxious to
receive his wife with open 1111338.
It was a -brilliant life. ;All that was
best and brightest in the reat world of
art flocked to Alan Stacey's house now
that it boasted of so charming a mis-
tress. Mrs. Alan Stacey wont every-
where and was noted wherever ehe
went. Almost every day, in $he col-
umns devoted to the doings of well
known people, there was mention of the
brilliant novelist and his wife. Her
dress, her receptions, her tastes, were
continually chronicled, and for his sake
—for Mary' -was singularly farseeing in
everything that concerned her husband
—she put herself to iM121611/10 paths in
order that she should always create as
favorable an impression as possible. She
was essentially the very wife for such a
man. She never attempted in any way
to shine him down. Rather, on the con-
trary, did she draw him out and show
him at his best. She ruled his house:
hold with a dignity and simplicity that
went to make her a favorite with all
classes of his friends. Her great hold
over him lay in the fact that, although
slie was posseseed of no artistiegift her-
self, she was never dull, was not in the
least degree narrow in mind or judg-
ment, that she was possessed of that
Berupulons politeness which dernamis as
well as gives attention. At the end of a'
year—a year of wholly unalloyed hap-
pinese—Alan Stacey would as 800I1 have
thought of striking his wife as of omit-
ting to pay her any of them email at-
tentions which are as oil to the wheel,
of the matrimonial chariot. It was wow.
derful that it was so, became he had be-
stowed everything upon her. He had/
obauged her life from one of toil, a
comparative penury, of dullness, of
leneline,ss, to a brilliant existence, the
light of which she had never known, and
whit h, had she known, she would never
ho -e dared to think could possibly on*
day ue hers.
' And as their -happinese grew and
threye apace eo did Alan iltaeey's star
of fame grow more and more brilliant.
There had been at the time of his first
great success croakere who bad foretold
that the staiof Alan Stacey'li brilliancy
would wane in a little time, bat these
prognostications had proved to be
wrong. With every book that bad come
out hie genius was fill•13 to bo mere in-
tense and more brilliant Ile had the
magic touch, the eniele meek, the
grace, the freshness. the romance and
the poetry which are weeled to make a
really great and lasting elle (-Flee. Te
some of ne—to mott of us, I giollid
leave said—the refining firms iftesreew
are necessary, but now and again there
shims upon the world a great mihd
well feeds on the sunlight. Alan
Stacey was one of thee', and the more
the happiness of his life ire-tea:nil the
more brilliant did hie werfs Is eonfe.
The untold satisfaction el bin daily life,
eo far from cramping or stultifying
him, seemed as if it hut fed the fires of
his genius, and it was a common thing
in the set in Whlch Alan Stacey moved
for their union to be cited as an excuse,
a reason, a jusiiiieatien, of the great
and old fashioned inetaetion of mar -
(TP
(To he eon; 1113("1 1
BABY'S HOLD ON L
• The little ones are f—rai--1----their hold a
life is slight. The slightest symptom of
trouble should be met by .1raliaWe,2`inve-
tive medicine. Baby'e Owo Tobinte have
s roved by t heir record of nitmericl to be an
ideal medicine for the Ilia of infante and
young children, The Tahlete care all
stomach and bowel troubles.. ellay the ir-
ritation of teething, break up cads, pre-
vent croup, and destroy worms. The
mother has a guarantee that tine d°‘ ine
1) no°P,i &lea roirt eta:7014:0-4i rsuns;*
Greavesg
hsueeess. They never 'fail., in .riy experi •
enee. to cure the little ehildron."
veovli
ue c aened Baby's Own Thlete Vi:Lti great
a
get thaw Tfshlets from any tnedi-
mr
acitn2e5d ecaelnetral oar
btohxeybwiyawdteoiwInrlar,idelt:intaggeRinnTtaht: titI'eTra.f aihil
Hams' Medicine Go,, Brockville, Ont.
IrorisilalleerbyGArliepx.1W)o