Loading...
The Wingham Times, 1911-04-27, Page 71 Mfr !'H E WINGIIAM TIMES, APRIL 27, 1911 7 ' 6o t d at the Altar �'ar e 16,, By LAURA JEAN LIBBEY, io Author of "When Lovely Maiden Stoops to Folly," "Olive's Court- ship," "`hien His Love Grew Cold," Etc. 4' de 4UnR4RePrddMlirddiN Id' 4 He had spoken ed%gently, eo kindly to passion of her girlish heart, her, a great, throbbing hope soddenly With youth, love ie not a plant of sprang to life In Doris's heart. 1 -Ie had slow growth. Tho glance of an eye, the married her without love; but perhaps, touch of a hand, a smile, a tender word, in the time to come, she mighar: win that often -lights the flame of a deathless love. love, if she did not part from him at the In striving to be kind to Doris, to very altar. snake this ball a happy, memorable egooh the had written that fatal letter on in her girlish life, Frederlok TboraWe the impulse of the moment, and now, had unwittingly opened her eyes to the on the impulse of the moment, she hur- truth. She was deeply in love with hits. rled to the vestry again, caught it up But,. girl -like, she would have died and destroyed it. rather than he should guess her sweet Five minutes later they were in the seeret. coach, whirling rapidly away to catch Suddenly he paused abruptly, is the the Beltincore express. Doris stole many midst of a waltz. a shy glance at the store, pale, hand - "1 am afraid it is almost time to go, some face beside her by the light of the Doris," he said, hurriedly taking out his carriage lamp. watch and glancing at it. Eivdently he had forgotten that he Great Heaven! was he mad or dream- said he had much. to sa -to her, for they Inge It wanted exactly eight minutes reached the depot without his having to half -past ten—the time for (dosing the spoken a word. . +seminary gates. "Doris," he said, gently. • Doris watched the handsome face with She turned a startled face toward. him, wistful eyess too timid to break in upon "Oh, Mr, Frederick. what is it? Why 'his thoughts, ' 410 you look like that? What Is the mat- They took their places In the palace ter?" coach, but the train had gone some little "We Janet go at once, Doris," he said. distance. before Frederick Thornton "'We have not a moment to lose, We turned to Doris, or even seemed to re - Jam not seven minutes left to rea:oh the meLusher rsher iemember to, .have found _seminary. It wants just that trine to half -past ten," .time paes•so slowly In my life,".• he said, He never forgot the deadly, awful hupatientijr. .•despair that cane over her face—the . There was no anewer, and he turned ghastly pallor—how the blue eyes dark- quickly toward his little bride, wonder- . sued with awful fear. Ing `at her silence, her gravity. Her face "Oh, Mr. Frederick!" she gasped. was quite pale; her lips were white and •"What shall I do?" pressed firmly together; and. there were "Courage, Doris," he said. "We can tears shining on the long, curling lashes. make it if you are quick In getting your In her heart was.a •.sense of desolation -*raps." words cannot describe. When the train A moment more and theywere out is stopped at different stations people won- -the starlight together, fairly flying down dared at the beautiful, white, girlish the white road. He ooultt barely keep face, so young, so lovely, and yet so end, pact with the girl's fleet footsteps. that looked from the window so vests She was out of breath as they reached fully. ' the steep path that led up the rugged Like all young girls, Doris had had hillside to the seminary, and was obliged dei wouldbe like,anti of day -dreams hwhat he wedding- . dr wo • to take his arm. would clasp her In his. arms when they Moro and r mo deadlyntslipped grew her fear as left the altar, murmuring: "My darling, moment atter momeon cbh, , my owA now, my wife." Ah, how differ- . quick Thornton girl's could hear the eat was the reality_terribly different! ppito beating of rho ho her and dethr She looked at Frederick Thornton sit- ,' sighs that shack her slender ting beside her so cold, haughty and � -frame. "Doris, are you crying?" he suddenly stern. Ah, how handsome he was; how asked, in deep distress. strange it seemed to ber that this hand - Before she could reply, from a church some man was—her husband; her hus- tower near them the hour of eleven rang hand who had married her within the out, slow, solemn strokes, each one* hour, yet whose heart was as far from death knell to Doris. ,her as the earth from the sky. Her lips She fell down on her knees in the quivered, her eyes grew dim with teats; path. unable to move a • step further, the sadness, the pathos of that face, sobbing as he bad never heard. any sob might have touched n heart of stone. Re in Ms life before. Ahl the pity of it! either did not or would not see It. He His ..w toh was half. an hour slow was looking impatiently past her --out of He could see the great, heavy Iron gate the window. The impulse was strong to eirom• whereehe steed. • The Tate •was turn to him and sob out: •-• . . , e1osed. My husband, lore mea little; •I am "Oh, Mr. Frederick 1 Mr. ,. Frederick 1 stating, I am lonely and desolate; love what shall I do?" moaned Doris. "Ma- me a little. Hold my hands in youre; ..dame will never let, me enter her door we are going out in the great, cruel again. Oh, I ans,•.lostl lost! led! I am world that I have alway dreaded se much. Sty something to. comfort me-" homelessepemntlesid•I will be thrown on Then she hesitated. What if he should the-world-elyniymerFydWith �newhere to go! look at, her contemptuously or turn I stjt vey,ddly refuge .and. new I. have haughtily awayf No, she must not speak 1p Frederick. if 1 could bull die f to him; she must not sue for the nifec- $eIin alt Tagave ti', etoned d=ote the tion withheld -from ber; she had pride �aeellnK� llttte' figure like one petrlilCRl'� • x"L Wilt take all :the.•blar,ro •upod.t lay- enough for .that. caejf,'D seie,d he, mid; •.hu.btly, :"for -as- ' "You do•not ask where We are going, i+urediy,, the fault was. mine 111Ceaadn Doris, he eaid.at lags. Have. you . no 'Ali to gee 'Come, eager 1110. will' it. 'All. f curiosity to know?". .• • 'y=eti.' Come; let us walk Kldly up Z:' f I have been wetting for you to tell tate add alag'ihe MVO, Mit," she answered, simply, ward glance, jaw stelefrcims Ella "'I • Intend 'taking you. to my- borne, iwck where my another and-sisters.are, but aaltry'eut,.into the celdtseneol)111. •night. you could not seedlike. that. We,,will N The terrible revelation,;.'as;they turned stop over in Baltimore long enough to ,away from the very altar, that her bride- purchase n suitable wardrobe for 'you." groom.Ieid not married her for love, had He never forgot the startled eyes • she .almost turned poor Dorie's brain; and raised to his face, eyes shining with .farm one mad thought,was to set him free tears, ,again, by seeking rest ln.the dark, cold "Home --whore your another and your water. and end Wall, sinters are!" she repeated in alarm. Hurrying down, the path, without one "Why not, Doris?" he asked, "You de lance hbbind at the dimly -lighted, -014 ,not. them to tater the.ideee" ..; hureh,:,pnd:•the,,copch, with the',>•. tatlense "' They would not like mii;:.th`ej',wonid White horse standing before its door, she hate me!" the cried, vehemently. "They ;reached the brink of the bay, tipped by would Are at ante that I have not been The golden, arrowy light of tlta.Atars. used to anything, -and that you are far, e tide was coming in. Tho Water was eb, NO fateabeve be.' I should bo awk- Yleing MOM' and sjaigher re soh.. morpent, ward and lift at:' ease„ before • them; .1 with the digiveripgrmorin-ttaok:.acro4s it. sawn soli haslet "what 'le d0, abut to ems, It would, aobn reach the., :rCOk •wAedesehe ,stood, and sweep Iyer away. or bow to' say it. `I, who have been a "Pio one cares what becomes of me," poor, little, dependent aobodj> all e y :sobbed Doris, piteously. "What have g life, know nothing of your world and its .clone that I should be so • miserable and ways, and you would,ba ashamed of me. friendless? Life would have been so Yeu would repent marrying • ale, and; I different if Frederick could only have should die," she moaned, under her • loved me. Oh, it is errcruel, cruel!. Hoa- breech. yen forgive me!" she cried. "I ental; so. ' 'SMy another and ,insisters rire by de lonely, so desolate!" • , ••metas formidable ' porsond" he"satd, "Doris!" frowning slightly. "They are well-bred, The •sound of ber ,own frame. ettertted a Irlfle haughty perbape (alt !eve one of 'see so she ywoulif.tmyec fnllel . •rbPdttw�d c. h ), ,da ntjr• And •. reflnod, s ,They ere . - from the rook on which she one., ;stand- 'tattles whom it will be a pleasure for yoga, • tag, down into the seetltingwater t»low, `$"x , fleet." • { dr a strong arm had not been put out : ."Telt ane Moto of them," mild Deed hurriedly and caught her; and, turning ?i'aintly,„hent: courage •einl fng°albwer And -leer white, terrified face. Doris ferried ' lower at ev'ery weed be'tittered. Oh! how herself confronted by Frederick Thorn- eetd • , •t'I.wili.;begin, with.ith• my mother,ru,ha Doris!�� ho repeated, tin's amazement,• "what are you doing biros Y•oa request- , ed me to leave you halt an heathy your- , pelf in the vestry. I caine down to the bay to while away the time. How is it that I find you here?” • As he. spoke he looked keeab, cue- , .fusty into the fair, young face, which Wes Mightyri and paling so piteously. He wan quick 10 netted thee great .change in her bow she shrank from his outstretched hand, and how her yea drooped looters his steady gaze. r _ In a Sash it occurred to Doris that he had not boon to the vestry, and - )ib :bad not read thrl nolle She ,,had lett there Ad- tlresnedeo.blthett d)a .keedid snide.know What had brought her to the dark, rest, less waters of the bay; and, Standing face 110 fads wick hint, the could not tell hied, "This in the height ,of lmprudenee, little bo=le," he =aide taking her hand, Sind drawing It through hit anis "Sure- ly, Dori., you do not repent •our hasty anarrlage, do gent" he tasked suddenly; .and ho was great troubled Ind dlemayed to see her %Ott her curly head and lanai into tears. "What is done cannot, be undone, boric,"" ht Bald, gravely. "There is noth- , Ing tor It now but to mak. the best of it. I will till you any plans ter the future When We get into the, teach. Put en your wrap= 41116111y.We fi=a=t Harsh the 1.10 stein, Mad Sri het* +shits N keg tide SWAN rte.+r she dreaded to meet his relatives! Mid, "node! (sketch really faithful per- tisane for yon: She has mere pride and •digulty, we think, thanany other mem- ber of the family, She is tall and stately; her eyes nee clear, cold and gray. She is the vary embodiment of the term, a well- bred, haughty lady." m' •: "And your slaters—are they like your mother?" faltered Doris, A111 more talntly- .. , "I have three etrters'!s lee rets ondiocl. "Isabel, the eldest, is very like mother in face and manner; Gwendolin Is called the blonde beauty of tho family, and neaten, or 'Trixy. as we ulwaye call her -yell, I can hardly find worda to tell you,what' ehe is ,litre. . She is, I Must canteen, a greet cross to my dignified mother. She 10 sixteen, and the romp, the tomboy, the mlaoheivoua sprite of the family. She has very expreseivo eyes, brown end sparkling, but she can never be what is called good-looking, for her hair Ir positively red. My father is A stately gentlemen, bound'up in his Wei - nese oared. What I Ann you can KO for yourself' x think I". Woo given you a faitteture of the inmates of 'Thornton '7111n ati Our home le ealled." As bend 1letenad the presentiment crew attvrtter slid stronger that story one in this stately home wonid be awry- eolitlo to Ursa. "Ind year mother being 'ih(haat iba 1++, or haughty alta grand, wielted yeti 1fa w..W HMI afire Mkt .IPSO t, zt d.bb$'" said Doris, in a low voice. "Yes," replied Frederick Thornton huskily, "My mother wished me to marry Vivlaa Courtney, and he uttered a deep1 h sY. Doris crept closer to him, looking breathlesly up into his face with her great, blue, shining eyes, "`ell me --if it had not been for me—. for taking me to the fatal ball, which ended so fatefully --tell me, would yon hays married Vivian?" He wan too honorable and straightfor- ward to deceive her, Ho bowed his head. "It would have been so, Doris," he answered, huskily. "You loved her so well," she whis- pered below her breath, her face growing paler and paler; but he did not notice that. "Yes," he replied, but added, hastily; "why talk of that now? It is all over between Vivian and me." "I have Dome between you and the girl you loved," breathed Doris. "Let me forget it if I can," he pried out sharply. "Don't torture me by re- minding me of what might have been." Then he relapsed into silence again, and hie face, half averted from her, grew sterner, colder and prouder than ever. He did not notice how wlstfue was the fair young face turned to him. He was 111 ut ease; ho had found the wedding journey decidedly irksome; he longed to be away from her; and thus two hours dragged wearily by, and the palace coach with its ill -meted bride and groom, whirled on through the' darkness. Sho clinched her little hand; she tried to still the beating of her heart. Ile was solicitous for her comfort, he was atten- tive to her wants, but she noticed after that allusion which awakened his re- membrance o-membrance of Vivian, his lost love, that he spoke to her only when civility r dictated that ho should speak; and when he did address her he never looked at her. From her heart she longed to be back with Madame Delmar again. Ah! was ever a bride go lonely before? Did any young girl ever inept such a strange fate as this? Sitting there by her young hues band's side, so cruelly, bitterly unhappy, on her wedding journey, the words of -an old poem anima to her, Oiling her eyes with tears: -- "Like some divided river, Your ways and nine will be, To drift apart forever— Forever till the sea." CHAPTER V.—THE DESERTED BRIDE. When they reached Baltimore they drove straight to the hotel, and then, for the first time, it seemed to Doris, her husband spoke kindly to her. He said:— "You look very tired. I should advise you to get some rest. I always find a cigar and the morning air most refresh - Ing after a journey. We stay here a week," he went on, as he placed a roil of bilis In her hand. "That will give you plenty of time to make year neces- sary purchases." Doris looked at him the picture, of dismay, but she did not tell him she did not have the faintest notion as to what was appropriate to buy. "Do you wish me to accompany yore on this shopping expodittonl" he asked. "To tell you the truth, It always bores me. I have ordered the coupe at two, to -morrow afternoon." "I can go alone," answered Doris, bravely. "And I will buy what I think will please you." Ho smiled, gratified at her ready com- plaisance. Half an hour later she stood alone in her pretty blue -and -gold boudoir attached to the suite of•rooms that had been assigned them. Too restless to sleep, Doris passed the long hours which followed sitting at .the window, gazing at the throng of pedes- trians that passed to -and fro across the Way. The afternoon commenced to wane, the sun set, and 'darkness enfolded the city, : Still Doris sat by the window, patiently watching for •Frederick Thorn - ton's return. How little ehe dreamed of the suns that would rise and set ere she looked upon his face again! Soca'. •after a servant announced six o'clock dinner. "I shall not go down until my hus- band comes," said Doris, timidly. "He ahust, bo here shortly." . The long evening wore away; eleven o'clock sounded from an adjacent belfry; and weary with long watching, Doris' curly head dropped slowly, and, sitting in her chair by the window, she fell into a troubled sleep. The sun was, shining into the room when Doris opened hpr eyes the next morning. • For an insl'ent she . gazed.; • A, BAD COLD Developed Into BRONCHITIS. ,,•a ,aeya;;,'.. 77 is ry a ••. 5 Negisetai Brorichitiaid very the direct camas of Consumption, and on the first symptom appearing Dr. Wood's Norway Pine Syrup should be used sad the Broneh,ltis,cured.'; . Tare isymp'touid,urt, tightness aileraw the chest, sharp pains and a difficulty in breathing, a secretion of thick phlegm, at first white, and later of a greenish or yellowish color, coming -frons the'br'on•'•. chili tubes when coughing, especially the first thing in the morning,. Yrs.; Dan. I. idcaarrriack, LCIevdentl,' N.S., writes: "My little boy two years old caught it bad cold which developed into Bronchitic, He a as so choked up be could hardly breathe. Reading about your wonderful Medicine, Dr. Wood's Norway Pine Syrup, It decided to try a bottle and with such good result I het another which completely cured bird Without having a doctor. I cannot lata too rhueh in itts praise; I would not bet without it in the horns as i consider it a turd our° for Colds and Bronchitis." The price of "Dr. Wood's" Norway Pine Syrup is 25e. It is put up in a yellow wrapper. Three pine trees is tint trade mark. Be euro and accept no substitute for Dr. WOod'a, Manufactured Only by The t itilbtkiii around her with a startled cry of die - may. Where wee she? Then, like a flash, the strnngo events et the last few hours recurred to her, ", poor The i h p . r 1 the bride gated around her with a chill leeliug of loneliness. Where was her handsome young husband? Why did he neglect her so cruelly? she wondered, vaguely, ,Another forenoon dragged its slow length by. Still lirederick Thornton seined to Ignore her presence complete- ly, Dorle was glad when the coupe he had ordered came for her. She was not used to shopping, yet it was marvelous to see the gond taste she showed in the seleotinn of a handsome,stylish traveling dress end one or two other costumes. They wore ordered to the hotel at once, and counting out the contents .of her purse, Doris found she had a little over twenty dollars left. Arriving at the hotel again, Doris pro- ceeded at once to array herself in one of her prettiest costumes, that she might look more pleasing in the eyes of her handsome young husband when he should return. It was a beautiful vision of girlish loveliness the long French mirror reflected —a slender, graceful little creature in bronze surah silk, from which the white' throat and delicate head rose like a flower; but, ah! it was such a very wist- ful face the golden curls framed, and the pansy -blue eyes were heavy with hushed tears. "Ah, will he never, never come?" Aa cried out in vague terror, clutching bar little hands over ht.e heart, and prizing restlessly up and down the floor. A dozen times she had stretched her hand out towards tho bell rope. She must send some one in search of him. Perhaps that was what ho was waiting for. • Poor, inn000nt little Doris! She knew so little of life and the great, cruel world. In answer to her summons end to her query, "If he would be so kind as to tlnd her husband, Mr. Thornton, and tell him she wiished to see him?" The man gazed with undisguised pity into her sweet, young face. "The gentleman who brought you hero is not stopping here, ma'am," he said, eonstratnedly. "He left that same morning, after depositing for a week's hoard, as that is our rule when there's no baggage." "He left the hotel—the day—we— came? Left me—alone—hero?" gasped Doris, in an agony of dismay words are weak, to describe. "Surely you are jest- ing. He would not, he could not be so cruel. We.were only married two days ago." "Are you strong enough to bear a great shook?" asked the man, almost hating himself for the words he was about to speak. Once before in his varied oxportnece of hotel life he had been obliged to speak the same words to is fair young wife, and, without a moan, without a cry, she had thrown up her white hands and Whin dead at his foot. Doris rose slowly to her feet, and stood before him with cheeks as pule ns a snowdrop and eyes wildly dilated. "You—you have something to tell me !" she gaped. "In the name of mercy, I implore ' you to speak quickly. A shook, you say? 1—I can bear It." "A woman .could break this more gently to her," muttered the man, draw- ing his sleeve across his eyes. "Oh, why don't you speak?" implored Doris. "Is there anything the natter with any—My—husband?" "I hope what you say is true—that that soft-spoken, fine gentleman married you, poor lags. But, be that as ft may, the truth, if you must have it, is: He has deserted you." "Ah, I knew it would be so!" she exclaimed, in alarm. With a will, hitter, agonizing cry, Doris fell, face downward, upon the floor like one dead. Deserted! A deserted bride! Those were the words that broke a hunizen heart. We 'intuit hasten to explain, dear reader, the strange stroke of fate which tore there two asunder. Arrest your judg- ment of our handsome hero until you have beard his defence. True, he did not lord this young bride whom be had been fairly forced by an unkind fate into wedding, and he left the hotel crying out silently to himself that the had wrecked his life, and made the thenglit of. the future as bitter as death; still, for all that, it would never have occurred to him to desert her. He was too honorable to even contemplate such an action. Deeply engrossed in hla own thoughts. ho walked rapidly down the crowded thoroughfare, paying little heed to what was transpiring around him. Suddenly he heard a grent shout, a cry c from the 'people around him. - •He had barely time to :Mee his head, and 1n. an Instant he comprehended; but he Was too late to save himself. A horse, dashing over the crossing, had taken fright at n painted balloon in tho hand of:a little child. In a flash the• driver was Buried from his seat; the maddened animal wheeled about with one wild plunge,, and ere Frederick Thornton could take one backward step n great iron hoof was planted just above his temple. More dead than alive he was taken to the nearest hospital: lle•hnd sustained a terrible fracture of the skull, the coneult- -ing doctor found. Ilia life hung by a mingle thread. If he lived, his reason aught be partially metered -- never, wholly, unless by a violent shock which might coat him his life, and it might be ninny a long day before ho would waken , to a realtzaatien of What was, transpiring about him. As Is often the ease, this was one of the many accidents in which City life Abounds, Which never found ite way tato' the daily papers. "So •young', so handsome and stale Wart," said the hoapltal nurse, pityingly, as she bent ever rho pillow. "I will kisa him for the inethet' whose pride he must `be, and- whose heart will be broken to site hina like this—and for the sweets heart, too; who may be watching in vain for his coming." ley a letter found in hit pocket it was aatiertnined he was the son of Banker Thornton, of New York City, and. his father ons accordingly communicated withent delay. We will pass briefly over the fortnight et terrible dispense and anxiety which teltowed. Night and day hie father Watched 13y his betlside, rebasing to he apmteirted. And when e t Inst it wee Mtn ehuded••that the On could be removed With safety the banker boated a=le bead, uttering a fervent "Thant: Ged'!" Owlet to Frederiek'n strong Constitu- tion hie convalesceneo OM more rapid than the doctors bad antictpatecl; but With Morning consetow neer It 'Swab dies covered there wag a strange blank In hie mind. He could act remember how he happened to be in Baltimore, whet had brought him there, or even the cause at the accident wh?•h betel hixn, He remembered quite Well receiving Vivian C0 rtheY ! pill tinted tod note which had called him that sunny atter. neon to Beech Grove. lie remembered Alighting from the train, and had a dire recollection of inquiring the way to Madame Delmars' seminary; but beyond this—heaven help him!—he remembered noth. Thoingevents that had followed in rapid succession—his meeting with beautiful Doris Brandon—the ball, and the fatal marriage which had resulted from it-* were entirely obliterated from Ms mind. Alas! for the strange complication); of a fate more cruel than death)—the vbrd. existence of the fair young bride, who waited in vain for his coming, i9aa swept entirely from his memory. , • •There was great rejoicing ut Thornton Villa when the banker and his sop re- turned home. Mrs- Thornton and the young ladies embraced Frederick by turns. His mother held him to bar arms longest, "There is some one else waiting to welcome you, dear," she whispered, nodding toward the bay window, heav- ily draped with silkon curtains --"some one who would not have oared to live 1f you had died." "Is it Vivian, mother?" he asked, qv: ekly, his handsome face flushing wltk pleasure. "Yes," she answered; with a smile; And in another moment the impetuous young man had crossed the room and had flung bank the heavy curtains. A slim, girlish figure bonnded up from the velvet arm -chair, murmuring:— "Frederick! oh, Frederick!" "Vivian, my love! my darling!" he answered, extending his arms joyfully. CHAPTER VI. --A FATAL BE- TROTHAL. "Will you not welcome ine, Vivian?" he exclaimed, eagerly "One word from you will go nearer my heart than whole volumes of wannest greeting , any one else could spank." "You know how glad I am to see you, Frederick," she replied, in a low voice, disengaging herself from his cling- ing arms. "My conscience smote mo as I looked at you, and noted the palenessand great change in you; for I realize that I am the cause of your accident But for the foolish note I Wrote you to come on and go to the ball you would never have taken that horrid trio to Beech Grove. I shall regret it ail my life." "Think no more about it, Vivian " he exclaimed, persistently detaining the little white hand in his clasp. "The pleasure of being with you again, and to hear you say you have missed me, amply atones for it all." "How strnngo it is that you should have completely lost all remembrance of what transpired from the moment you stepped off the train at Beech Grove," mused Vivian. "I wonder if the note was delivered to you which I left with ono of the girls." "I wish I could answer you, Vivian, but, alts! I cannot. It is of slight coa- sequenee, however, now thut 1t is past, and 1 an with you again," he answered, lightly. "But, tell me, Vivian," he went on in a lower tone, 'are you still of the same opinion that I must not ask your father for you yet? You aro cruel tc me, Vivien; how can I wait!" "What are we to do, Frederick?" she answered, raising her great, dark velvety eyes to his eager face. "Both papa and mamma declare I am by far too young to give one thought to love er lovers." "You do not think so, Vivian?" be asked, quickly.. "No," she confessed, shyly, adding, laughingly: "It is. rather a difficult polls tion—that of an only child. If nay father and another had five or six daughters, they would not think so much of in.." "No wonder your parents look askance at your lovers, Vivian. No, they do not want to part with you. They treat our love for each other lightly, deolaring you are only a child of seventeen, and that it is simply ridiculous asking the hand of a school girl in marriage. Still I do not despair, Vivian. I am sure all will cone out right in the end. When they see, despite all our trials and re- buffs, we are true and steadfast to each other, they must be touched—they Must be pleased—and consent to -give you to lire. Heaven intended us for each other, Vivian;lite?" J have I not lov4d you all my "Yes," she assented, eagerly, "from childhood, Frederick;" • "And I will love you, and only you,- VivIan, until the day I die," he whis- pered, covering the little white hand he held with passionate kisses. "If 1 could not win you, life would never hold one boor's hapiness totem."' Further conversation was interrupted by the entrance of his sister, Trixy, and e had bare! i b y time to add:--- " I am determined to plead my cause whin with your parents --thin very day, Vivian. Hope for mo—pray for mo." "Ah, here you are, Fred!" cried a merry voice, roguish and piquant,, yet sweet as a silver bell. "I guessed. that I should find you here, because this is V ivian's retreat. , Wherever the is, you are 'sure M be. We have long since dubbed jou 'Medi ivy's shadow.' •' And, long before the sentence was &nlshed, Iwo—white arms were flung about his nock with such a hearty hug it almost took his breath away. "Trixy?" exclaimed lairs. 1 bornton, entering the room just 1n time to over- hear this refereed "yet must not tufa roil* brother and Vivian t*' "Then he must net be 'holding viif"s hand rind looking supremely rldlculou's When I come upon them suddenly!" she cried, with a rollicking laugh and b saucy toss ot her head, as she strong through, the low French window out on the rose -bordered terrace. "Von must not mind her, Vivian, Clear," said Gwendolln Thornton, hastily crossing the'tooin. "It the finds Out that anything she says plagues you, the little torment will keep it up." Vivian blushed. She did not look very unhappy over the matter, nor did her handsome stalwart companion, They had been bantered about each other ever since they were children, and were" as a consequence, quite used to it by this time. "I want yon both to come to the library rind settle l+ very important de- elaion," continued (lwendolln, "We intend to commemorate Freder- lok's home coming by some festivity. hails are old; Iaw•tr fetes flet mush bet- ter. Shall we have ao archery party. M yachting party, a oarniaal, or eheradee on a platform built on the )awn, and dancing afterward?" "Let rat have nothlsg with daneing connected with it,"Interposed Frederick, quietly. "t have taken rush A etrstg a►ereiow to It, 1 cannot tell why." et • TO • The Rind You Rave Always Bought, and 'which has been in use for over 30 years, has borne the signature or and has been made under his per., sonal supervision since its infancy. • Allow no one to deceive you in this. All Counterfeits; Imitations and "Just -as -good" aro but Experiments that trifle with and endanger the health or Infants and Children—Experience against Experiment. What. is CASTORIA Castoria is a harmless substitute for Castor Oil, Pare. Boric, Drops and Soothing- Syrups. It is Pleasant. I$ contains neither Opium, Morphine nor other Narcotic substance. Its age is its guarantee. It destroys Worms and allays Feverishness. It curds Diarrhoea and Wind Colic. It relieves Teething Troubles, cures Constipation and Flatulency. It assimilates the Food, regulates the Stomach and Bowels, giving healthy and natural sleep. The Children's Panacea= -•The Mother's Friend. CENUINE CAST ALWAYS ®RIA Bears the Signature of The Kind You gage Always Bought In Use For Over 30 Years. THE CENTAUR COMPANY. 77 MURRA7 STREET, NEW YORK 0177. "Nonsense!'• Neel -n3 c,won' n11t: "Any evenin,; ga.herinr lose, n.,It its charm it there's no sdat,oing. Why, sr would be outrageously dell N•,. no! There must be dancing, at all events." "Then I will leave y.,u to arrange re -- matter between yourselves," deet Lied Frederick, turning away and sauntering nut on the proch. resently his mother joineet him. "Do you notice how pale Vivl."n has grown"' she asked, keenly watching her son's handsome, indolent face. "tlorry- ing over your illnos'; did that Frederick." "Dear little Vivien," he murmured, swing dreamily air toward tin• white calls skimming up and down the river. "The dream of my lite would he real- ized if 1 could see you `safely married re her, my boy," his mother went on. gently. "Forgive me, but 1 often enter- tain strange doubts and fears over your future. Fnllin.X in love with every pretty face that crossed your path seems to be your rock ahead, Frederick, and—" "Mother," he interrupte.1, reproach- fully, "1 cannot help being what you have often quaintly phrased it—a beauty worshiper; but I could never care for any one as 1 care for Vivian. I mean to act upon your advice at once—marry Vivian as soon as I can gain her par - tents' consent." Mrs. Thornton's face brightened. "I was much afraid you had some other love -affair on hand," the said, in low voice. "You know you are heir 'to e million: many people know that, and unscrupulous young women might tet traps for you. You are romantic by na- ture, easily influenced and persuaded. I have always had a strange presentiment over your future. It will be the bapplent day of my life when I see Vivian your bride.'" "And that you shall see as soon as I can wln her consent," he replied, gal- lantly, raising his hat. Long atter his mother had left hire, Frederick Thornton continued to pace slowly up and down the porch, thought- fully blowing .the rings of cigar smoke away froth kis handsome face. 'How • strange it is! Ever since my ill- ness I have been haunted by some inde- flnable, vegue sensation, as though there Was something important on my mind, which has escaped my memory, and which I am ever'vainiy trying to recall," he muttered. He always attributed it to some ver lashed fancy during his illness, and at length he ceased troubling himself about this vague fancy, which was no doubt the idle coinage of a delirious brain. Ah, heaven pity himl How little he dreamea that it was the memory of hie bride, from whom fate bad parted hint no strangely, thnt he was ever vainly endeavoring to recall. •'There was more than ono diffloultr in his wooing. A pretty, willful, defiant little beauty like Vivian was surd to Mare plenty of lovers. One of her ad mirers, more bold then the rest openly declared himself the bitter rival of any man who should sue for lovely Vivian's hand. Thus, for stone time past, Fred- erick Thornton and Gerald Marston had been rivalsbitter foes; and when of length 'Vivien's engagement to Frederick Thornton wag announced, it was a ter- rible blow to at leant one heart. Gerald Marston sat with the newspaper slutohed tightly in hie hands, gazing with a death white face at the printed paragraph. Slowly and deliberately he read the closing linos through for the twentieth time:— "The marriage will take place on the tenth of September, at the residence of the Bride's tarents." Then he tore the paper into Si thousand fragments, and set his heel upon thein, while the' bittereu't laugh that was ever betted fell from his lips. "It 1 had been the son of n million - :Pita, Instead of a poor devil of an artist, old Colonel Courtney and his haughty Wife would have looked upon me with =more favor. They have persuaded Vivian Into this. There Wan a tlmewhen I could have sworn she leered the lett." Ilii face grew hbggard and stern. and the light died from his eye.. "7 hare -Staked my lite, Intl love, my Mous on a girl's hearty and I have lost," Ito rrted, despairingly. lie flung his brush trot hior, and the paintings that had been the dearest dreams of hie s'•mbltton ho dashed f=orts t hint with a ehaklCg hand. "Good-bye, life, love and fame," Ise muttered, catching his breath hard. "If any darling is happy with 'Thorn - ion, God knows I will try to bear up like a man. I cannot stay here to wit- ness my rival's triumph. Twill go away. I will put the whole width of the world between us." The next day Vivian Courtney received the following letter:— "Dear Little Vivian—Dear tome still, although I have lost you—and with you vanish all the bright dreams of a happy future—I cin going away. I leave the city to -day to be gond long years, perhaps forever. I shall never return until I can look calmly upon you as another man's wife. 1f 1 can never do this, I will never return. Even though I do not, always remember this. Vivian—that ono lives somewhere in the great, wide world who would lay down his life for you. I shall seek forgetfulness on sandy deserts, on burning plains, in dark forests, en track- less seas. '.You gave me a simple geranium at the garden gate ono moonlit night. No doubt It was a thoughtless act, and one which,, even In that moment. you forgot. But 1—oh, `Vivian!—I have treasured that simple leaf as a miser treasures kis gold. Countless kisses and burning tears have fallen upon it, because once it rested In your dear hands. When I die. that geranium leaf will be found upon my heart. Good-bye, and God bless you, peerless Vivian. "I leave for Baltimore on the noon train. Farewell, my beautiful, whom 1 bare lost. `" Yours in life and in death, "GERALD." CHAPTER VII.—DRIVEN OUT INTO THE WORLD. When Doris opened her eyes she tonna herself lying upon her white couch and the kindly face of the old housekeeper bending over her. "Where am I? What 'is the matter?" she exclaimed, struggling up to a sitting posture and pushing back the heavy mass of golden `curls from her taco with her little white hand; but in a flash memory returned to her, and she re- membered all; and a bitter try echoed through the room as mho fell beck 'on her pillow. turning her face to the wall. "My poor child. you must not take on like this," said the housekeeper, pity. ingly. "You will force yourself lints brain fever." "I wish I could 1" cried Doris, bitterly. "Would to heaven I could die and end et A1). Oh, yes, yea, I Irish 1 had falces (To be continued.) Was So Bad Witlz Heart and Nerves Could Not Sleep At Night. :luny men and wome'i toss night after night upon a sleepless bel. :.'oir-o eon- ,,titutional diisturbance. worry er disease has so debuttatet and irritated the heart and nervone system that they cannot enjoy the refreshing slept which comes to those whoae•heart and nerves are right. Mrs. John Grey, Limo Lake, Ont. writes:—" Last summer I was oOnt., writes:—" with my heart Ind nerves that 1 couldn't sleep at night. Thetis was satela a pain ''id heavy feeling in my rho,t that I .'nal I not stoop, and at tit timet I u•otild ',n' moo "lizzy end l=ive to grasp r une- rtiu•it to keep from (Ailing, T vied alders at things but never got anything to e'a) me any goo,' until 1 tried Milburn's liettrt and Nerve Pills and I can how recommend them to all troubled as 1 ryas," Milburn's Heart for Nerve Pills tars t0 cents per box, or three boxes for $1.25, at all dealers, or mailed direct by'Th.T. Milburn Co., Linlite, Toronto, bat.