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Home My WebLink AboutThe 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