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The Exeter Advocate, 1891-8-20, Page 2- +7, tenneMalialernalaree ante Wireett. taatea the boys thee ere staidily hauling At the hawser stout awl strong; They Wive worlexi. at hei, tincedaabreaa, Wour by hoer this whole day long. :But I fear that she is gone And a wreole heraullehellbe. No more her gallant form shall breast it ..auclyarit oil the main sea. See her eicles the timbers aking, Omen -Aug, swaying tomtit They toe soon shall part aaannor, lato tail depths, the fregnierite go. See her heed, she proudly raises Once more (tenant from the wave, Yet the billews they dash o'er her, Sho finds no mace Siam the waves. And her noble hull is rearing, Gallantly it braves the. storm ; Shall the suit which now is setting ;Soo it ralteg thus at morn? See the mast wheel ono° eves. standing. With its rieging all inane ; It has fallen now upon tier, Cruel winds Wive caused her that Yes, the winds have torn her rigging, Flaunting It around her head, And the wind e shall help the water In. the struggle ail she's dead. Conquer? no they cannot do lamb, Though they take away her he, Tho' the billows rend her timbers Tho' the valets her riggings rive, There is a last despairing efrort Now she's taking leave of life. Tho' the battle it was royal Wind and tempest won the strife. T. Camera. E SISTERS CHAPTER VL And then, on the brightest of briglIt sum mar it -Makings, they came to Melbourne. They did not quite know what they he expected to see, but what they did see astonished them. The wild things caught in the bush, and. carried in cages to the Eastern market, could not have felt more surprised or dismayed by the novelty of the situation thee did these intrepid damsels when. they found themselves launched into the world they were so anxious to know- . For a few minutes efter their arrival they stood together silent, breathless, taking it all in.; and then Patty—yes, it was Patty— exclaimed : "Oh, where is Paul Brion?" Paul Brion was there, and the words had no sooner escaped her lips than he apperetted before them. "How do you do, Miss King ?" he said, not holding out his hand, but taking off his hat with one of his father's formal salutations, including them all. "1 hope you have had a pleasant passage. If you kindly tell me what lug- gage you haae, I will take you to your cab; it is waiting for you just here. Three boxes? All right. I will see after them." He was a small, slight, wiry little man, witk decidedly brusque, though perfectly polite manners; active and selapossessed, and, in a certain way of his OWn, dignified, notwithstanding his low stature. Be was not handsome, but he had a keen and clever face—rather fierce as to the eyes and mouth, whiclt latter was adorned with a fierce little moustache curling up at the corners—but pleasant to look at, and one that inspired trust. " He is not a bit like his father," said Patty, following him with Eleanor, as he led Elizabeth to the gab. Patty was angry with hint for overhearing that "Where le Paul Brion ?"—as she was convincerlly had done—and her tone was disparaeanat "As the mother duck said of the ugly, d.uckling, if he is not pretty he has a good disposition," said Eleanor. He is like his father in that: very kind of him to contheatalta aite.p us. A press man must always be terribly busy." "1 don't see why we couldn't have managed for ourselves. It is nothing but to call a cab," said Patty with irritation. They arriyed at the cab, in which Eliza- beth had seated herself, with the bewildered Dan. in her arms, her sweet, open face all smiles and sunshine. Paul Brion held the door open, and, as the yquiager sisters passed. him, looked at them intently with aearshing eyes. This was a fresh offence to Patty, at whom he certainly looked most. Impressions new and strange were crowding upon her brain this morning thick and fast. "Elizabeth," she said, unconscious thet her brilliant little coun- tenance, with that flush of excitement upon it, was enough to fascinate the gaze of the dullest man.; "Elizabeth, he looks at us as if we were curiosities -.he thinks we are dowdy and countryfied and. it amuses him." "My dear," interposed Eleanor, who, '•like Elizabeth, was (as she herself expressed it) reeking with contentment, " you could not hare seen his face if tou think that. He was as grave as a judge." " Then he pities us, Nelly, and that is worse. He thinks we are queer outlandish creatures—frights. So we are. Look at those women on the other side of the street, how differently they are dressed! We ought not to have come in these old clothes, Elizabeth." "But, my darling, we are travelling, and anything does to travel in. We will put on our black frocks when we get home, and we . will buy ourselves some new ones. Don't trouble about such a trifle now, Patty—it iknot like you. Oh, see what a perfeet day it is! And think of our being in 'Melbourne at last! I am trying to realize it, but it almost stuns me. What a place it is ! But Mr. Paul says our lodgings are in a quiet; airy street --not in this noisy part. Ah, here he is! And there are the three boxes all safe. "Thank you so much," she said warmly, looking at the young man of the world, who was some five years older than herself, with frankest friendliness, as a be- nevolent grancIrnamma might have looked at an obliging schoolboy. "You are very good—we are very grateful to you." "Tour lodgings are in Myrtle street, Miss King That is in East Melbourne, you know—quite close to the gardens --quite quiet and retired, and yet within a short walk of Collins street, and handy for all the places you want to see. You have two bedroonae and a small sitting -room of your own, but take your meals with the other people of the house; you won't mind that, I hope—it made a differente of about thirty shillings a week, and is the most usual arrangement. Of course you can alter anything you don't like when you get there. The landlady is a Scotchwoman—I know her very well, and can recommend her highly—I think you will like her." "But woe't you come with us ? " inter- osed Elizabeth, putting out her hand. 'Come and introduce us to her, and see that the cabman takes us to the Holt lace Or pethaps you are teo busy to spare the time ? " "1-1 will call on you this afternoon, if you will permit me—when you have had your knoll and. rested a, little. Oh, I know the cabman quite well, and can newer for his taking you safely. This is your addrese"— , hastily scribbling it on an envelope he Strew 15 able," concluded the amialtIe lendladY, "and let me know whenever you, want any- thing. There's a bathroom down that pas, sage, and this is your bell, and those draw, ers have not keys, you Nee, and lunch will be Toady as, half -en -hour, The dining -room is the first door at the bottom of the stairs, and—phew ! that tobacco smoke hangs about the place still, in spite of all my clean- ing and airing. I never allow smoking in the house, Miss King—not in the general way; but a man who has to be lip o' nights tvritieg for the newspapers, and never getting hie proper sleep, it's hard to grudge him the comfort ef his pipe—now isn't ? Aud liave no ladies here to be annoyed by it—in general I don't Mice ladies, for gentlemen are se much more comfortable to do for; and Mr. Brion is so considerate, and owes so betle trouble—" asualtpallaew, sisters not How ; but the propo- to eition. itself Appeared to them, as to her, to le, have every good reasoa to recommend it. la They thougait it a most happy idea, and in adopted tt with enthusiasm. That very a- evening they made their plans. `They de. by signed the simple deeoretions for their little ke room, and the appropriate dishes for their as modest feast. And, when these details had id been, settleat they remembered that on the following night no Parliament would be of sitting, which meant that Paul would pro- •ce belay come home early (they knew his times ey 'of comiag and going, tor he was back at his u old quarters now, having returned in conse- o quence of the departure of the discordant le piano, and to oblige Mrs, McIntyre he y, aid) ; and that decided them to eend him ' his iuvitation at once. Patty, while her complaisant mood was en her, wrote it her- self before she went to bed, and gave it over the garden railing to Mrs. Mclutyre's maid. let the morning, as they were asking which of them should go to town to fetch cer- tain materiale for their little fetenhey heard the' door bang and the gate rattle at No, 7, and a quick step that they knew. And the slavey of No. 6 came upstairs with Paul 13rion's answer, which he had left as he passed on bis way to his office. The note was addressed to "Miss King," whose aananuensis Patty had carefully explained herself to be when writing her invitation. " Dear Miss Iiing,—You are indeed very kind, but I fear I must deny myself thteauleasure you propose—than which, I assure you, I could have none greater. If you will allow me, I will come in some day with Mrs. McIntyre, who is very anxious to see your new menage. And when I come I hope you will let me hear that new piano, which is such an amazing contrast to the old one. Believe me, yours very truly— "PAUL BRION." Elizabeth expleauedihearawtrattatte which he declared he was himself going East Melbourne (whence he had jut con after hie morning sleep and uoontide brea fast), and asked leave to escort the thither. " Row fortunate we ere !" Eliz beth said, turning to walk up the street his side ; and Eleanor told him ha was li his father in the opportuneness of 1 friendly services. But Patty was silent, a raged inwardly. When they had traversed the length the street, and were come to the open spa before the Goveriament offices, where th eould fall again inte one group, she made a effort to get rid of him and the burden obli,gatioa diet lie was heaping upon ther ' air. Brion," she began impeteousl "we know where we are now quite well— " I don't think you do," he interrupted "What Is Mr. Paul Brion lodging her, "seeing that you were never here here?" broke in Patty impettiously, with before." her face aflame. • Our landlady gave us directions—she "Not now," Mrs. McIntyre replied. made it quite plain to us. There is no " He left me last week. These rooms that necessity for you to trouble yourself any you ha,ve got were his—he has had them further. You, were not going this way for over three years. He wanted you to when we met you, but exactly in. the oppo- come here, because he thought you, would site direction." be comfortable with me ' smiling be- "1 am going this way now, at any rate," nignly. "He said a man could put up he said, with decision. f am going to anywhere." show your sisters their way through the At four o'clock, when they had visited gardens. There are a good ma,ny paths, the bathroom, arranged their .pretty hair and they don't all lead to Myrtle street." afresh, and put on the black maut gowns— " But we know the points of the compass when they had had. a quiet lunch with Mrs. —we have our general directions," she in - McIntyre (whose other boarders being gent- sisted angrily, as she followed him help- lernen in business, did not appear at the lessly through. theegates. mat* mid-day meal,) prattling cheerfully with quite idiots, though we'd6 comefromthe the landlady the while and thinking that country." the cold beef and Salads of Melbourne were "Patty," interposed Elizabeth, sur - the most delicious viands ever teated--when prised, I ran. glad of Mr. *Brion% kind they had examined their rooms minutely, help, if you are and tried the sofas • and easy -chairs, and "Patty," echoed Eleanor in an under- stood for a long while on the beacony look- tone, that haughty spirit of yours will ing at the other houses in the quiet street-- I have a fall some day." at four o'clock Paul Brion came; and the Patty felt that it was having a fall now. maid brought up his card, while he gossiped "1 know it is verykindof Mr. Brion," she with Mrs. .Mclaityre in the hall. He had no said, tremulously, but how are we to get sooner entered the glee sitting room than ; on and do for ourselves if we are treated Elizabeth hastened to unburden. herself. Pat. like children—I mean if we allow ourselves ty wa,s burning to be the spokeswoman for the I to hang on to other people? We should occasion, but she knew her place, and she make our own way, as others have to do. remembered the small effect she had pro- I don't suppose you had any one to lead you duced on him in the morning, and proudly about when you first came to Melbourne "— held aloof. In her sweet and graceful way, i addressing Paul. but with as mach gravity. and earnestness "1 Was a man," he replied. "It is a as if it were a metter of life and death, j man's business to take care of himself." Elizabeth explained her view of the situa- "Of course. And equally it is a woman's tion. "01 course we cannot consent to business to take care of herself—.if ahe has such an arrangement," she said gently; no man in her family." "you must have known we could never ; " Pardon me. In that oese it is the busi- consent to allow you to turn out of your, ness of all the men with whom she comes own rooms to accommodate us. You must in contact to take awe of her—each as he please come back again, Mr. Brion, and let. can." „us go elsewhere. There seem to be plenty of "Oh, what nonsense! You talk as if we other lodgings to be had --even in this lived in tab time of the Troubadours—as if street." ; yoa radial know that all that stuff about Paul Brion's face wore a pleasant smile ast ataimen has had its day and been laughed he listened. "Oh, thank you," he replan ; out of existence long ago." Healy. "But I ani very cornatetable j "What stuff ?" where I am—quite as much so an). was here "That we are helpless imbeciles—a sort —rather more, indeed. For ale people at j of angelic wax baby, good for nothing but No. 6 have set up a piaao, en the other side to look pretty. As if we were not made of of that wall "—pointaig to the cedar the same substance as you, with brains and chiffonnier—" and it bothered me dread- hands—not so strong as yours, perhaps, but fully when I wanted to write. It was the j quite strong enough to rely upon when piano drove rie*out—not you. Perhaps it ! nece,ssary. Oh !" exclaimed Patty, with a will drive you out too. It is a horrible fierce gesture, "1 do so hate that malt's nuisanceefor it is always out of tune ; and cant about women—I have no patience with yceeknow the sort of playing that people it !" alidulge in who use pianos that are out of "You must have been severely tried," tune." murmured Paul (he was beginning to think CHAPTER VIL the middle Miss King a disagreeable person, and to feel vindictive towards her.) And A MORNING WALK. Eleanor laughed cruelly, and said, "Oh, no, Bat they skpt well in their strange beds, she's got it all out of books." and by morning all their little troubles had «Adisappeared. great mistake to go by books," scud he, with the air of a father. " Experience .After breakfast they had a solemn con- first—books afterwards, Miss Patty." And sultation, the result being that the forenoon he smiled coolly into the girl's flamnig face. was dedicated to the important business of buying their clothes and finding their way CHAPTER VIEL to and from the shops. . AN DITRODUOTION TO MRS. GRUNDY. " "For we must have bonnets," said Patty, "and that immediately.. Bonnets, r per- And, as the days wore on, even she grew ceive, are the essential tokens of respect- to be thankful for Paul Brion, though, of ability. And we must never ride in a. cab course, she would never own to it. It was again." he who finally found them their home, after' They set off at 10 o'clock, escorted by their many futile searches—half a house in Mrs. McIntyre, who chanced to be going to their own street and terrace, vacated by the the city to do some marketing. The land- marriage and departure to another colony of lady, being a very fat woman, to whcnn the lady who played the piano that was out time was precious took the omnibus, ac- of tune. No. 6, it appeared, had been cording to custome'buther companions with divided into flats; the ground floor was one consent refused to squander unnecessary occupied by the proprietor, his wife, and threepences by accompanying her in that servant; and the upper, which had a gas vehicle. They had. a straight road before stove ,and other kitchen appliances in a them all the way from. the corner of Myrtle back room, was let unfurnished for £60 a street to the fish market, where she had year. Paul, always poking about in quest business; and there they joined her when of opportunities, heard of this one and she had completed her purchases, and she pounced upon it. He made immediate in - gave them a fair start at the foot of Collins guides into the character and antecedents street before she left them, , , of the landlord of No. 6, the state of the In Collins street they speed ' the morning drains andchimneys, and paint and paper, —a bewildering, exciting, anxious mottling of the house; and, having satisfied himself • —going from shop to shop, and everywhere that it wa,sas nearly being what our girls finding that the sum they had brought to wanted as anything they would be likely spend was utterly inadequate for the pur. to find, called. upon Elizabeth, and advised pose to which they had dedicated it. They her to secure it forthwith. The sisters were saw any quantity of pretty soft stuffs, that just then adding up their accounts—taking were admirably adapted alike to their taste stock of their affairs generally—and coming and means, but to get them fashioned into to desperate resolutions that something gowns seemed to treble their price at once; must be done; so the suggested and, as Patty represented, they must have arrangement, which would deliver them one, at any rate, that was modem the mode from bondage and from many of before they could feel it safe to manufacture their worst difficulties, had quite a for themselves. They ended by choosing— providential opportuneness about it. They as a measure of comparative safety, for thus took the rooms at once—four small rooms, only could they knowwhat theywere doing, including the improvised kitchen—andwont as Patty said—three ready-made costumes into them, in defiance of Mrs. McIntyre's that took their fancy, the combined cost of protestations, before they had so much as a which was a few shillings over the ten bedstead to sleep upon; and once more they pounds. They were merela morning &asses were happy in the consciousness that they of black woollen stuff; and vvith. a had recovered possession of themselves, and captivating. style of "the world" about could call their souls their own. them, but In the lowest class of goods of One day, when their preparations for that kind dispensed in those magnifi- regular domestic life were fairly completed, icent shops. Of course that was the Patty, tired after a long spell of amateur end of their purchases for the day; the carpentering, sat down to the piano to rest selection of mantles, bonnets, gloves, boots, and refresh herself. , and all the other little odds aud ende ola "Elizabeth," she said presently, still Elizabeth's list Was reserved for a future keeping her seat on the music -stool, and occasion. stroking her cheek with one of her sister's It was half -past twelve by this time, and hands while she held the other round her at one o'clock Mrs. McIntyre would expect neck, "I begin to think that Paul Brion them in to lunch. They wanted to go home has been a very good friend to us. Don't by way of those green enclosures that Paul you?" Brion had told. them of, and of which they "tom not beginning," replied Elizabeth. had had a glimpse yesterday—whieh the "1 have thotight it every day since I have landlady heel assured them was the easiest known him. And I have wondered often how you could dislike him so much." "1 don't dislike him," said Patty, quite amiably. "I have taken particular notice," re marked Eleanor from the hearthrug, "and it is exactly three weeks since you spoke to him, and three weeks and five days since you shook hands." Patty smiled, not changing her position or ceasing to caress her etieek with Eliza- beth's hand. "Well," she fetid," don't you think it would be a graceful thing to ask on him to come and. have tea with us some night? We have made our room pretty "--- leolting roend with contentment—."and. we have all we want now. We might get our salver things out of the burertu, end make a co couple of little dishes, and put some candles about, and buy a bunch of flotvers—for once —what do you say, Nelly? Ile has never been here since we came in—never farther than the downstairs pessage—and wouldn't it be pleasant to have a little house-warming, and show hint Our things, and give him some music, and—and try to make him enjoy himself? It, would be some teturn fee what he has done for ue, and his father would lie pleased." That elle should ma,ke the probosition- thing possible. They had but to walk right up to the top of Collins street, turn to the right, where they would see a gate leading into gardens, pass straight through those gardens, cross a road and go straight through other gardens, which would bring them within a few steps of Myrtle street— a way so plain that they couldieb miss it if they tried. Dear me! we shall be reduced to the ignominious necessity of asking our way," exclaimed Eleanor, as they stooa forlornly the pavement, jostled by the human tide that flowed up and down. "If only we had Paul Brion here a' It was very ptovoking to Patty, but he was there. Bang a small man, he did not me into view till he was within a couple yards of them, and that was just in time overhear this invocations flie ordinarily me aspect, which she had disrespectfully tweed to that of Dan when another terrier d inset Led him, liacl for the moment peered. The little man showed all over in the pleased sitrprise with which he had tight the sound of his own name. Have you got so for already2" he ex, imed, speaking in his sharp and rapid y, while, his little moustache bristled of to =ern his pocket—" and the landlady is Mrs. fie MeIntyre. Good morning. I Will (10 my- lil self the pleasure of coiling on you at 4 or ha 5 o'cleck." ap Then they went bito the house—the hi middle house of a smart little terrace, with ca a fete ragged fern trees in the freed garden —and Mee, McIntyre took them up to their °la rooms, and. showed there drawers and cup- Mi we ar s, n a inotnerly aria hospneble man- wi ner. h "And 1 hope you will be comfort, yo This was Paul 'Brion's note. When the girls had read it, 'they stood still and looked at each other in a long, dead silence. Eleanor was the firat to speak. Half laugh- ing, but with her delicate face dyed in blushes, she whispered under her breath, "Oh—oh, don't you see what he meens?" "He is quite right—we must thank him," said Elizabeth, gentle as ever, but grave and proud. "We ought not to have wanted it —that is all I am sorry for." But Patty stood in the middle of the room, white to the lips, and beside herself with passion. "That we should have made such a mistake !—and for hint to rebuke us!" she cried, as if it was more than she amid bear. "That I should have been the one to write that letter! Elizabeth, I sup- pose he is not to blame—" "No, my dear—quite the contrary." "But, all the same, I will never for- give him," said poor Patty in the bitterness of her se CHAPTER IX. stns. AAnons. There was no room for doubt as to what Paul Brion had meant. When the evening of thenext day came—on which there was no Parliament sitting—he returned to No. 7 to dinner, and after dinner it was apparent that neither professional nor other engage- ments would have prevented him from enjoying the society, of his fair neighbors if he had had a mind for it. To -night, not only she, but all of them, made a stern though unspoken vow that they would never—that they could never— so much as say good night to him on the balcony any more. The lesson that he had taught them wai sinking deeply into their hearts ; they would never forget it again while they lived. They sat at their needle- workin the bright gaslight, with the win- dow open and the venetian blind down, and listened. to the sound of his footstep and the earagging of his chair, and clearly realized the certainty that it was not because he was too busy that he refused to spend . the evening with them, but because he had felt obliged to show them that they heti asked hira to do a thing that was improper. Patty's head was bent down over her sew- ing ; her face was flushed, her eyes restless, her quick fuagers moving with nervous vehemence. Breaking her needle suddenly, she looked up and exclaimed, "Why are we sitting here so dull and stupid, all silent, like three scolded children?; Play some- thing, Nellie. Put away that horrid skirt, and play something bright and stirring—a good rousing march, or something of that sort." "The Bridal March from Lohengrin," suggested Elizabeth, softly. 1 No," said Patty; "something that will brace us up, and not make us feel small and. harable and sat upon." What she meant s "something that will make Paul Brion understand that we don't feel small and humble and sat upon." 'Eleanor rose and laid her long fingers on the keyboard. She was not in the habit of taking things much to heart herself, and she did notquite understand ,her sister's frame of mind. The spirit of mischief prompted her to choose the saddest thing in the way of a march that she could recall on the spur of the moment—that funeral march of Beethoven's that Patty had always said was capable of reducing her to dust and ashes in her most exuberant moments. She threw the most heartbreaking expression that art allowed into the stately solemnity of her always perfectly balanced execution, partly because she could never render such a theme otherwise than reverently, but Chiefly for the playful purpose of working upon Patty's feelings. Poor Patty had "kept up" and maintained a superficial command of herself until now, but this un- expected touch of pathos broke her down completely. She loal her arm on the table, and her pretty head upon her arm, a,nd broke into a brief but passionate fit of weeping, such as she had never indulged in in all her life before. At the sound of the first sob Eleanor jumped up from the music stool, contrite and frightened—Eliza- beth in another moment had her darling in her arms ; and both sisters were seized with the fear that Patty eve,N sickalting for some illness, caught, probably, in the vitiated atmosphere of city streets, to which she had never been accustomed. In the stillness of the night, Paul Brion, leaning over the balustrade of :the veranda, and whitening his coat against the parti- tion that divided his portion of it from theirs, heard the opening bars of the fu- neral march, the gradually swelling sound and thrill of its impassioned harmonies, as of a procession tramping towards him along the street, and the sudden lapse into un- timely silence. And then he heard, very alitly, a low cry and a few hurried sobs, ad it was as if a lash had struck him. He elt sure that it was Patty, who had been playing (he thought it must always be Patty who made that beautiful music), and Patty, who had fallen a victim to the spirit of melaticholy that she had invoked—simply ecause she always did seem to him to epresent the aeticn of the little deems of he sisters' lives, and Elizabeth and Eleanor to be the chorus merely ; and he had a titer onvietion, in the midst of much vague itemise, that he was involved in the a auses that had made her unhappy. 'br a little while he !stood still, fixing his 1 oy op tit such a smile as they had not a thought, she who, from the first, had not only aever ab. n capable of. eeta I assist "got on " with him, but had seemed to a ri in say way ?" . regard him dislike---snrprised Ti es upon a neighborieg street lamp arid owling frightfully. He heard the gide' 0 en window go down with a sharp rattle, la d presently heard ft open again hastily to clinit Dan, who heel been left outside. len he himself went hack, on tiptoe, o hie own apartment, with an eapreasion of hmizfeactehan Inc usual alert determun lation o Entering his room, he looked at bis watch, shut his window and bolted it, evalked into the adjoining bedchamber, and there, with the gas flaring noisily so as to give him as much, light as pOSSible, inede rapid toilet, exchanging his loose tweeds for evening dress. In lose than ten minutes he was down in the hall, with his latch key in his pocket, shaking himself hurriedly into a light overcoat; and in less than half an hoer he was standing at the door of it good- sized and rather imposing -Woking house in the neighboring suburb, banging it in his peremptory fashion with a particularly loud knocker. Within this house its inistress was receiv- ing, and she was it friend of his, as might have beeu seen by the manner of their greeting when the servant announced him, as also by the expression of cert.:bin faces amongst the guests when they heard hie name—as they could riot well help hearing it. " Mr.—Paul—Brion," the footman shouted, with three distinct and wellemeen. tasted shouts, as if his lady were entertain- ing in the Town Hall, It gave Mrs. Aarons great pleasure when her domestic, who was a late acquisition, exercised his functions in this impressive manner. She came sailing; across the room in a very long-tailed and brilliant gown—a tall, fair, yellow.haircd woman, carefully got up in the best style of conventional art (as a lady who had her clothes from Paris regard- less of expense was bouad to be)--ffirting her fan coquettishly, and smiling an unmis- takable welcome. She was not young, but she looked young, and she was not pretty, but she was full of sprightly confidence and self-pbssession, which answered just as well. .Ah!" said Mrs. Aarons, shaking hands with him impressively, "you have remem- bered my existence, then, at last ! Do you know how in tny weeks it is since you honored me with your company ?—five. And I wonder you can stand there and look me in the face." He said it had been his misfortune and not his fault—that he had been so immersed in business that he had had no time to in- dulge in pleaesure. "Don't tell me. "You don't have busi- ness on Friday evenings," said Mrs. Aarons promptly. "Ola don't 1?" retorted Mr.. Brion (the fact being that he had spent several Friday evenings on his balcony, stnoking and listen- ing to his neighbors' music, in the most absolute and voluptuous idleness.) "Ton ladies don't know what a pressman's life is —his nose to the grindstone at all hours of the night and day." "Poor man! Well, now you are here, come and sit down and tell me what you have been doing." "Of course I wanted very much to see you—it seems an • awful time since I was here—but I hacl another reason for coming to -night," said Paul, when they had comfortably settled themselves (he was the descendant of countless gentlefolk and she had not even a father that she could conveniently call her own, yet was she con- strained to blush for his bad manners and his brutal deficiency in delicacy and tact). "1 want to ask a favor of you—you are always so kind and good—and I think you will not mind doing it. It is not much—at least to you—but it would be very much to them—" "To whom ?" inquired Mrs. Amens with a little chill of disappointment and disap- proval already in her voice and face. This was not what she felt she had a right to ex- cpectsunntrsthe present combination of cir- cumstances. "Three girls—three sisters who are orphans—in a kind of way, wards of my father's," exclaimed. Paul, showing a dis- position to stammer for the first time. " Their name is King, and they have come to live in Melbourne, where they don't know anyone—not a single friend. I thought, Perhaps, you would just calf in and see them some day—itwould be soawfully kind of you, if you would. A little notice from a woman like you would be just everything to them." To be Continued Fashionable Colors in Horses. There is a fashion in the color of carriage horses. Once, many seasons ago, there was a rage for gray; now gray animals are at a dis- count and are, as a rule, associated with wedding parties catered for by a livery stable. Light chestnuts had then& turn,but they were found like certainshowy ma- terials, not to wear well. One year roans were hi fashion, and they were most satis- factory as to wearing qualities, and also as to temper. Even now a wellenatched pair of red roans are looked upon as quite correct and very handsome, but the color �f the sea- son is dark bay with black points. Dark browns were in favor last season, and, naturally, since horses cannot change the color of their coats so easily as men and women, will be much used this year. Some good has certainly been done by the recent agitation against the bearing -rein, headed by the Duke of Portland. We have noticed lately that many coachmen have dispensed with it, and in the case of lady whips we have seldom seen it used. Once we saw the footman loosen the bearing -reins while the carriage was waiting, and so comparatively freed the horses' heads for a while. —Batton Transcript's London Letter. Good Hands. That is a good hand which does its work well, whatever it may be. That is a good hand which knows how to make pain easier and headaches vanish. That is a good hand which is put out to help some one who has fallen bythe way- side. That is a good hand which helps along the sick and. the weak, the helpless and the That is it good hand which never wrote anything of which it was ashamed, and which never put its hand to fraud and dis- honesty.—elelanta Constitution. The Way to the Heart. "Do you remember that lovely gorge at Flowery Dell ?" asked Griffin of one of the girls he had met at the picnic. " Rather !" was the reply. "It was the first square meal I'd had for a week." A Worm Day. The best methocl to resolve doube into car. te.inty, if any such doubt exists as to the efficacy of Sb. Jacobs Oil, is to use it and be convinced. A warm day is a good day for experbnent upon any form of pain and for such, St. Jacobs Oil has no equal. Berlin ladies recently applied to the police authorities of that city for permission to rick horseback man fashion in public. 13aron Eitthofee, chief of police, refused to grant the petition, and an appeal bas been made to the Empress hereelf. Hunker—So Gildersleeve is married. The match was made in Heaven, of course. lalooburriper—No ; in Chicago. She—She says that one of ber ancestors 11 at Saratoga,. He—Yes, and was buried naer the debris of the grand Stand. --Maud—Is 't true thattyou itri ea eve with 'itfr. ? Clara --Mercy, no. I'm ray engaged to lain . 4 rman run" eree s vien ifna ma - A EFt oamr nori Gerxaatssubject to 'violent place whete we are Says: Colds id Lung Troubles. , I have used German Syrup for i years successfully for Sore Throat, Cough, Cold, Hoarseness, Pains lin, the Chest and Lungs, and spiting -up of Blood. I have tried many differ- ent kinds of cough Syrups `0 my time, but let me say to anyone Tvant- lug such a Medicine—German Syrup is the best. That has been iny,, perience.4' If you the it once, ,roti will go back to it whenever y ou need it. It gives total relief and is a quick cure. My advice to one suffering with Lung Troublesis —Try it. You will soon be coni vinced. In all the families where your German Syrup is tiscd we have no John trouble with the Franklin Lungs at an. It is the medicine for this country. G. G. GREEN, Sole tienlratatootatere ,Pope Leo. Pope Leo /CM. is now in his 81st year. His eyes arestill remarkably black and bril- liant, but aside from this he has every appearance of an infirm old man. His features are thin and sharp, his complexiozz very pale, and his head trembles to such an extent that he is no longer able to write un- aided. In signing dociunents he is obliged to hold the right wrist with his left hand,, and even then the result is not satisfactory. This convulsive trembling is attributed to fever from which he suffered several yeare ago, and from which he has never fully re- covered. The Pope has seldom been seen to • laugh during all of his lone life. He lives plainly, eats alone, according to the estab- lished custom of Popes, while he is in. Rome, and is troubled with excessive ner- vousness which often prevents sleep. Coffee as a Disinfectant. It has been demonstrated that coffee has disinfectant properties and is very effective in killing fever germs. Dr. Luderitz, who has paid close attention to the subject, did. not use strong infusions, but found that a certain harmless micrococcus germ died in a 10 per cent. coffee solu.tion in from three to. five days. The bacillus of typhoid fever perished in from one to three days under coffee influence, and the cholera bacillus in. from time to four hours. The germ of anthrax or splenic fever died in from two - to three hours, but the spores of young forms of the latter germs perished in from twoto four weeks only.—Good Housekeeping , Pat's Great Wonder. We are surrounded by dangers all the way from the cradle to the grave- "Tho great wonder is," as Pat says, " that after getting out of our cradle, we live long enough to reach our grave." Thousand s are out of health—morose, morbid and rnise,mble, because they do not avail themselves of the remedy within easy reltch of them. Dr. Pierce% Golden Medical Discovery would cure them. For all chronic or lingering Coughs, Weak Lungs, Spitting of Blood, Bronchitis, Short- ness of Breath, Asthma and kindred. ail- ments, invigorates the liver, improves digese tion, and builds up both fie.sh and strength. Dose small and pleasant to taste. Large bottles, one dollar. Of all druggists. About Hammock Pillows. Among the pretty and more or less use- ful articles nuele from China silk is a ham- mock pillow of sage green, with a design of daisies. It is in shape like a small round bolster, with yellow ribbons at each end,, and by these ribbons it is fastened to the hammock. Another pillow is of a crescent shape, with a prausion of tiny silk balls at each tip, hiding the clasps which hold it in place among , the hammock's; meshes. The very coeletit kind of filling for such pillows is made of bits of paper. Old letters and envelopes out into count- less pieces are best for the purpose.—.N. Herold. The Population of Imidon. Robert Hunter says in the July. Nine- teenth Centuary that the population of Cab - radius, London (50 square miles) is 2,82,- 585; that of Inner London, which is almost identical with. the County of London (12/ square miles) is 4,221,452, and. that of Greater London (701 square miles) is 5,656,- 909. Greater London is identical with the Metropolitan Police district plus the city. The figures regarding it are taken from the unrevised results of the census of 1891, as Published in the London Times of June 9th. Before the year is out England is to wel- come another royalty in. the wealthy Maharajah of Mysore. His departure, how- ever, is attended by some difficulty. Cer- tain priests in Southern India have been deputed to study the abstruse questions nvolved in the project before the Mahara- jah imperils his caste by crossing the black water.`T ‘ere goes a spanking team," remarked Willie Brown to Tommy Jones as the two boys' mothers went tvilking down the street together. The devil is nearest to us when we can name those who are going to him. —le is wholesome to make mistakes occa- sionally, else we should become fearfully conceited. AT ens BEAOn. As they stood on the beach where the waveleta play She laid her head on his satin vest And lifted her lips in a pouting way, And—he did the rest. A SOUVENin SrOoN. They had ffirted a comae of weeks or ea The youth and the maiden shy; Blit the time had arrived for Inin to go And he came to say good-bye. And he said, "Ere we part will you give me a kiss? Refuse'not, T pray, the boon; For 'should like to remernbm: this As a eorb of souvenir spoon. ' heicyonecklis tbvyortihns" e iReahreesk PreonrnksPylrirc:ia. ltiveddie—You look all bwoke up, what's the mattali ? Cholly—Aftel my dip yes- taliday My valley foligot to came around to duress me, and 1 palmed a howible night in the bath home, ' —Jack—Thd she sit on von? Oholly—No. tier mother was in the room, but she let, me hold her hand."