The Exeter Advocate, 1892-10-20, Page 6LADY CARAVEN •
Or Married Abone Her Station.
CHAPTER 1.
HE time wan noon a 0,brilliant
June day, the places a gloomy office
in a London °court valueh belonged
to Arley Ransom—a equere room
that contained tables coeered with
deeds and pepere, iron eafell
seettrelyfastened, shelve'
s filled
with werke on. the Britisll law
and constitution, bill.files that could
literally hold no more, maps of different
estates lying carelessly open, large ink-
stands, pone,sheets of blotting-piaper.
There was a mingled oclor of parchment and
sealing wax. The gun, bright as it was,
:mulct not manage to shine into the room—
the grim, gloomy windown absolutely re-
fused to admit, hie rays ; yet, dark and
gloomy as the place appeared, there was a
prosperous look aboet it—an atmosphere of
business warned to prevade it.
Pen in hand, his keen, shrewd •face lull
of deep thought, the owner and occupier,
Arli y Ransom°, sat at the square table, a
tarns parchment deed spread open before
htzn. Be was oblivious of everything ex -
cent the sheet at which he was looking.
Drowsy flies hummed and buzzed in the
wiedow-pienes and he never heard them;
they committed suloide in the great ink -
steads, and he never saw them. To the
shining sun and the bright aummer morning
he was equally indifferent. He read on and
on the lines of his face relaxing until a
cold satirical smile curled his lips. He
started as though half alarmed when his
clerk, opening the door of his room, sud-
denly announced--
" The Earl of Oaraven, sir."
"1 am reedy to see him," was the reply.
But, before the Earl entered, the lawyer
quickly folded up and put away the deed
that had engrossed his attention.
"Am I too soon 2" asked a mellow, indo-
lent voice.
Arley Ransome looked upiwith a smile at
the speaker.
"To, my lord; I was expecting you."
"It is something after the fashion in
Which a spider expects a fly," said the
young nobleman. "There is one thing to
be said, lam a perfectly resigned fly. I
know that evil hours await me, and I am
prepared for them."
The clerk placed a ohair, and at a signal
from his master, quitted the room but the
Earl of Caraven d.eclined. the proffered seat.
He stood by the mantelpiece leaning with
voteless grace upon it.
"It is not the thing to smoke in a law-
yer's office," he said, " but I must ask per-
mission to do so. I shall derive some sort
of comfort from
.Arley Ransome bowed, and the Earl of
Caraven applied himself to the task of
selecting and lighting a cigar.
"I suppose," he said, "that I should
furnish an excellent moral as a lesson for all
bad boys."
"You would form an excellent warning,
my lord," was the grave reply.
"It is the same thing. And now I am
prepared for the worst. What is it ?"
Arley Ransome looked at the speaker.
There was something of admiration, of pity
and of contempt in the long -lingering glance
of those shrewd eyes; yet he could not have
looked at a coznelier face or figure than those
of the young Earl.
Handsome, with a worn, haggard kind of
beauty that told its own story—that told of
days and nights spent in wild dissipation,
told oE prodigal habits of an utter absence
nign,--aff selitcontrol, • dean dam idle, useless, pur.
poseless life, of a nature spoiled and vitiated
—the face might have been a noble one but
for the lines that self indulgence had
• marked there. The head was well shaped
and proudly set; it was covered with clus-
ters of fair hair, waving in lines of perfect
beauty from a broad white brow. The face
self was clearly out, with handsome
features, dark -blue eyes, clear, straight
brows ; the lips were well shaped, and half
hidden by a fair, drooping moustache. The
figure was tall, well knit, finely formed,
• with a certain careless, met, grace. The
Earl of Caraven, as he stood awaiting his
sentence, was a handsome and comely young
Englishman in the apriugtide of life, retain-
• ing much of his natural strength and vigor,
although ho had done his best to destroy
them.
There was no trembling, no hesitation in
his manner; his easy grace and no2zeha4znce
did not desert him even while he listened to
words that must have been terrible to him.
"Now, Mr. Ransome," he eaid at last,
with haughty impatience, "there is no need,
figuratively speaking, to keep the axe
suspended over my head; tell me the worst
at once,"
" The worst, my lord, is utter, irretriev-
able ruin—ruin so ecnrplete and so entire
that I do not see a chance of saving even one
shilling from the wreck."
The Earl listened quite calmly; his lips,
half hidden by the fair moustache, grew a
trifle paler—but there was no flinching in
the handsome, haggard face.
" Utter ruin," he repeated. "Well, as
• they say in bonnie -Scotland, you cannot
both eat your cake tend have it.'
" True, my lord;" assented the lawyer.
"1 have eaten my cake," contiinted the
younger man—" and I do not deny that the
taste of it is bitter enough in my mouth—it
has turned to ashes, like Dead Sea Fruit.
Still, it is eaten, and there is an end of it."
"iIt is eaten indeed," said the lawyer.
"Won see no loophole-- you eau suggest
nothing ?" said the Earl.
"Every loophole is closed, my lord," was
the brief reply.
"And yeti are quite sure, Ransome, that
there is nothing left on which I can borrow
money—nothing more that I can mortgage 2"
"I believe honestly that the only object
belongirg to the Rievensinere estates which
remains unmortgaged, my lord, is yourself,"
'replied Arley Ransome.
"It is equally euro that no one will lend
money on me," said Lord Caravan laugh-
ngly. "Give me—not the details, but a
resutne ; give me some faint idea of how I
etand."
•
Arley Ramoine, lawyer and money -lender,
the calm, immutable man of business, looked
at the young Earl—perhaps he wondered at
his perfect calmnees then he glanced at a
• sheet of paper lying on the deals.
"It will not be pleaeant to hear, Lord
araven," he 'laid slowly; "bub you aek
or it. To begin. Al the age of 21 you
.succeeded to the Ravensmere estates and
title ; the estatee were clear of all debte
and encumbrance ; the rent -roll was thirty
thousand per annum ; there was besides a
sum of fifty thousand pounds in the funds,
the savings of the late Earl—that ia cor.
eet, I believe?"
"Quito em," Was the curt reply.
" You are now 28 years of age, my lord,
and in eeveit years you have run through a
• ortune."
• "Keep to fade no comments—plain
• actin"' said the Esti:,
"The 'plain facts are Owed," continuect
the lanayet—" the fifty theumnd Went,
elieve, to pay the first yeat'a 1000es On the
erby."
• "Yet my horse won," interrupted Lord
Oaraven."
"The winning of that Derby Was yonr
ruin, nay lotd, After that you ciontintrally
•forestalled your inmime by borrowing
money ; then your losses on the turf and
the gaintrigtable were BO great that you
Were oempelled to raise a heavy mortgage
on the estate; then yoe borrowed money on
the Octaves, the plate, and the furniture at
Rawousmere. In fact, my lord, bliefly told,
your situaii
situation is this—.you in
you ie hopelessly,
helplessly ruined. You owe warty thousand
pounds mortgageonouey ; you owe forty
thousand pounds borrowed naoney—and you
have nothing to pay it with. You received
notice front me six months eiuce that the
Mortnageonouey was called in. Ualesa it
is paid in six weeks from now, the estate—
Ravon,smere Castle, with all its belongings
—paws from. yea ; it will be edited with
all it contaiaan
• "And you aro quite pure that I can
borrow uo more 2" asked the Earl.
"Quite sure, my lord ; you have sold all
the timber that you could sell, as I told you
—the only thing left is yourself."
"Then unless 1 repay sixty thousand
• Pounds in six weeks, Ravenamere becomes
the property of the men who lout the
mousy?'
"Precisely so," replied Atley Ransoms.
"Then I hope he may live to enjoy it,
for I have not eixty shillings. Hush, he
°entitled, seeing that the lawyer was about
to speak--" DO comments 1 1 ant a ruined
mean as you any ; but I will not submit to
criticism. I say frankly that I have been a
wicked epeudthrifti—a prodigal; I san
frankly that if I could begin life again I
would live differently. I have been worse
than a fool—I have been a dupe. It is all
over now, and I have the price of my folly
to yens."
It is a bitter price, too, my lord. May
I ask what you think of doing ?"
"You may aak—I know iao answer. In
six weeks I lox Ravensmere, and with it
all sources of income; and besides that I
am forty thouee.nd pounds in delen and I
have not forty shilliogs to pay in with. It
seems to me there is but one thing to be
done."
Arley Rau:mine looked up anxiously.
" What is that ?" he asked.
"1 had better invest the trifle I have
remaining in the purolasee of a revolver—
you ran imagine for what purpose ; it will
be but a atting end to such a career as
mine. I really do not think, Ransome,
that I have had a hundred thousand pounds'
worth of pleasure. What comments the
news -papers will make upon me ! They
will head their paragraphs, Suicide of a
Spendthrift Earl '—they will draw excellent
morals and warnings from my fate. Men of
my age will read it, and think what a dupe
I must have been; it will not be a noble
ending for the last of the Caravens."
"Ib will not indeed," said Arley Ran -
some.
"1 remember that on the day I came of
age I meant to 'do better than this—Ran-
some, before heaven 1 did. They called me
the handsome, the hospitable .Eael ; now
my title is the spendthrift, the ruined Earl.
I cannot beg, I cannot work, I cannot live
without money and luxury and pleasure;
without these I must die.
He spoke calmly, as though he were
arranging some plan of travel. Arley Rau -
some looked admiringly at him.
"How this blue blood 'tells 1" thought
the lawyer. " f3ome men would have
cried and moaned, would have asked for
time and pity. He faces ruin Much as his
ancestors faced death on the battlefield."
Then, seeing the Earns eyes fixed on him,
he said. " It is a. sorry ending, my lord."
"Yes ; a sorry ending for the last of the
Caravens. My poor father called me Ulric,
after one of our ancestors who savedaling's
life by his bravery. I have not been a
worthy descendant of the Ulrio Caravan
who received in • hie own breast the sword
• meant for his liege lord. There is nothing
for it, Ransome, but the revolver. • I have
lived like a king, I have spent royalty—I
have given royalty, too, but that does not
matter ; I have done good, as I believed;
I have lavished thousands; I have gambled
and betted; I have poured out wealth like
water under my feet. New it is over; it
has been a short life, but a merry one. I
could not live in poverty; I. could not
count shillings and pounds, measure, weigh
and calculate. I loathe the name and
• thought of poverty. Awl have lived, so I
must d,e. I deserve no better fate."
Arley Ransome looted en the calm, hand-
some face.
"You do not seriously mean that you
will take your own life, my lord ?" he inter-
rogated.
"Ib seems to be the only thing left for
me to take," replied thei Earl; "I have lost
everything else.'
"Will you listen to me, Lord Caraven
—listen in patience? I have something to
say.", •
The Earl laid down his cigar. The lawyer
was so earnest, so intent, that he carried the
other's weaker will with him.
"I have worked hard all any life," said
Arley Ransome—" Worked as few men have
ever done before --from sunrise to unset,
and often through the long, silent night. • I
have worked because I kve money—because
I am ambitious; bee:ease I have had an end
in view. You know, my lord, that besides
pracnising as a lawyer I have been, and am
now,
a money -lender; it is no news to you
thatI advanced the mortgage -money on
Ravensmere, and that, unless you can pay
it the estate becomes mine."
The Earl's pale handsome face flushed
hotly. It was hard to picture bis grand
ancestral home in the plebian hands of a
money -lender.
"There is, aa Milton says, a lower
depth,' and Ravenamere will fall into it,"
he said.
"It becomes mine," continued Arley
Ransome. "The castle, the estate, the
plate, the pictures—they are all mine.
Now listen, my lord. I have made a for-
tune; you inherited one, I have made ene."
"Yon might well do so, lending money
at a hundred per cent."
"Never mind how it has been made -
1 have it," said the lawyer ; "and my
fortune amounts to two hundred thowie,nd
pounds."
"Heaven help those by whom you have
made it."
"Ib has been honestly made. You have
gambled, my lord ; I have speculated—.
and my speculations home all turned out
well. • I have two hundred thousand
pounds, and—I have a daughter." His
voice sank, as though he were somewhat
ashamed of hip words; then he continued,
"1 have made money because I love ib;
want to make a position bents° I am am-
bitious. Would to 'Heaven that I had a
eon ! I have spent roy life toiling in these
gloomy offices; hope has brightened them.
Would to heaven that I had aeon to carry
out my dreams, my hopes, my plans. If I
had a Son to succeed ole, my lord, / would
foreckee at once, and make him minter of
Revensinere,"
"Thank you," interposed Lord Caraven.
"1 have a daughter, ant elle must take
the place I would fain have given to my
bey. My lord, nmake you thia offer.
You ate a ruined Man—you tell me there
reMains for you no 'lope, nothing but
death. Now, I will give you life, liberty,
wealth. I will make you greater than
any of the Earls of Caraven have been
yet. I will give my daughter a dowry of
two hundred thotisand potinde if you will
marry her"
Lord Caravon lost hid seligmeinnglion for
one nelfoninute ; he literally looked as he
felt, bewildered.
"I do nob underetand," he said, slowly,
"hon I will wake my meaning even
plainer," remarked Arley Ransom°. "Make
nty daughter ()outings of Oaravem and 1,
in returnA will make you a doh men."
The End langhed a little incredulous
laugh that made the lawyer's face flush.,
" Listen, my lord," he said ; " wait be.
fore you speak. I am ambitious—I am
ambitious for my daughter. Make her
Countess a Ceram, and hear what 1 will
do for you. I will first pay the mortgage
money, the gixty thousand pounds; 1 will
clear the estate of all incumbraume, and
you shall have your renttoll free. I will
elso.pay the forty thousand that you owe,
leaving you a free man. The rest of the
money 1 shah settle on any daughter for her
own use and benefit. Think before you
answer me."
"1• am not a slave dealer," was the quiet
reply.
"Nor aml, my lord. I am speaking of
my daughter, who is no slave."
Yet you are selling her as a Southern"
planter might have bold his servant," re-
plied the Earl.
"Nothing of the kind, Lord Caraven.
I want rank—you want money. Give me
rank -1 will give you money. It ie a fair,
honest bargain."
"1 have been a spendthrift and a prodi-
gal, but I have not fallen so low -as than,
Mr. Ranaome. I do not • think that I shall
purchase my life, .my safety, my fortune
with a woraarne gold.
" It is not a woman's gold ; it is mine,
my lord," said the lawyer. ' " Marry my
daughter, and you will not have another
care in the world. She will be happy, you
will be free and wealthy, I shall be coin
tent."
" I have known the time," remarked
Lord Caravan, "when I should have
horse -whipped any man who dared to make
such a proposition to me. I imagine all
fine feeling has beemne extinct in me. Can
you not manageall this for me without aelt-
ing me to marry your daughter 2"
" No," replied the lawyer, quietly. "As
I have told you, if I hada aon, he should
have been master of Ravensmere ; failing
than my daughter must be it mistress."
"Web with my coneent," said the Earl,
haughtily.
"Your refusal to marry her makes her
more certainly so. If you refuse—if you
prefer ruin, disgrace, dishonor, shame and
death to marrying an innocent girl, whose
fortune would set you straight in the world
—it is at your own option. If you refuse
o make my daughter Countess of Caraven,
in two months' time she will be known over
the land as Miss Ransome, of Ravensmere,
you will have gained nothing by your
refusal."
The earl saw it, and for the first time
dui ing the interview the calmness of his
face and manner was broken.
"1 have never seen the girl—I do not
know if I oould endure her. I tell you,
Ransom°, this affair of yours outrivals tho
bids in the slaveonarkets."
"Nonsense, my lord; I have only
copied a French custom, Ail that nonsense
about love is but a relic of barbarism. The
French are the most civilized of matrons.
How do they arrange their marriages ?
Just as I wish to arrange this. Who hears
of love before marriage with them? You
want money—I offer you a certain sum,
with a fair young wife."
"You must know that, although I am a
ruined man, there ia an immense difference
between the Earl of Caravan and the
daughter of a money -lender," said the
young nobleman. "There ran be no hap-
piness in marriage where there is so great,
an inequality."
"The advantages and the losses are
equal, in
replied Arley. There are men
who, many place, would not act as I am
doing, who wouli think twice before offering
wife and fortune to one—pardon Ine—so
little deserving them."
"You cannot care much for your daughter,
to be willing to sacrifice her to a spend-
thrift," said the Earl.
"My lord, each one amongst us has his
price. I want title, rank and position for
my daughter. You can give them to her.
You want wealth—she will bring that to
you. Will you give me an answer ?"
"I should not purchase a picture without
looking at inn said the Earl. "1 cannot
promise no marry a lady whom I have never
seen."'
"You shall Enie, her, my lord—at once, if
you will."
The Earl looked around him.
"Where?" he asked briefly.
The lawyer's' face flushed.
"I do not keep my daughter here, Lord
Caravan, amongst deeds and papers. She is
a lady by education, and lives at her old
home."
"Where is that?" linked the Earl care-
lessly.
"At the Rolla:in near Kew, my lord.
If you please we will drive down there."
"I do not know—it is not right—I do
not "care to save myself in such a
fashion. Even if I married your daugh-
ter, I ani quite sure that I should not like
her."
• " Every one likes Hildred," said Mr.
Ransome.
" Hildred 1 That is a pretty, quaint
name," said the Earl. "1 do not mind
going to the Hollies with you, but I
make no promise. If I should not like
your daughter she would be very miser-
able."
"As you will, my lord; I shall urge no
more. I am determined that my daughter
shall marry into the peerage; my whole
heart is set upon it. You are not the only
nobleman on my books. I will say no more
about it. You will have the money for inc
or give up Ravensmere at the appointed
time.
While the lawyer urged him Lord Caraven
had been firm in his refuel. Now that he
stood face to face with bitter black ruin,
shame and disgrace, with ignominy and
death, now that the urgent pleading ceased,
he nt once began to waver.
"1 will go down to yourplace with you,"
he said. '
As you please, my lord," was the cau-
tious answer.
• Mr. Ransome began to perceive that the
lesa he said the better it would be for his
Mime.
"My cab in at the door," contintied the
Eatl. "We can go in that"
Without another word they atarted. Lord
Caranen feeling more decidedly ashatned of
himself than he had felt yet. It was one
thing to be considered' the " faiiteit" man,
the greeted Spendthrift of the day, and
another to purchase his safety by such a
marriage aothie„
"A moneynender'S daughter! I cannot
do It,” he said to himself More than once.
"She is sure to be velgar she Will have
red hair, and will be highly clelighted at the
idea of 'tieing a eounteas. What should I do
with such a wife—I who have worshipped a
hundred beautiful women?"
CHAPTER IL
The Earl of Caraven was on the .Whole
rather surprised when the cab stopped. The
llolliee wag of far greater extent than he
had thought—a pretty villa standing in ite
grounds, those same groundst beautifully
raid out. On this bright June morning he
a fountain, the nrooping branches of a grand
old cedar ; and he owned to himself that it
weis a far better etyle of placo than he had
expected to me. He mid so to Ma Ran.
Berne, Who answered ouietly than he might
be as agrembly surprised about him da,ugh-
ter as he had been abeut his house.
• Lord Caravenns facie fell.
"1)o you know, I had almoat forgotten
why I was hem," he tsaid. "1 have the
grace left to feel etihkried of myself." '
Without anothewsfrord the lawyer en-
tered the hogs:watt% Earl following him.
" Whore isninriss Ransome 7" aeked the
master of the place. " nay that, I want her
at ones,"
Again, when they entered the drawing.
room, Lord Caraven was agreeably sur-
prised, Whatever else it might be, it was
not a vulgar room ; there was no new
gttilding, no tawdry cotoring ; in was all
harmouy—a room filled with soft rose.light
and the odor of fragrant flowers—a room
that gave one the unpreseiou that a lady
used ib; no vulgar woman, no would.be
fine lady would have given so refined a
character to a room. ,
He was pleased without knowing why.
The day was warm and sultry; he was
tired, and the fragrance, the silence, tho
plea,sant (bade of the room'poothed
There was a wind of footsteps. Mr.
Ransome rose hurriedly. ,
"Hero is my daughter," he said,
Lord Caraven looked up with some faint
gleam of enelosity. He had elected a
vulgar schoolgirl, a pert, aaleoted miss,"
who would smile and blush, and exercise
all the arts of coquetry that she had learned
an some third-rate boardingaohool. He
was quite wrong. He saw before him a tall,
slender girl, with beautiful dark eyes and a
pale face, a girl graceful and self.porisessed,
grave and earnest—not beautiful yet,
although there was promise of a magnificent
womanhood. No, certainly she was not
beautiful ; her figure was tall and slender,
but it lacked roundness and grace. The
hands were beautiful, but the arms were
thia ; there was something too nauch of the
child, withoub sufficient of the gram ot the
woman.
"She is not vulgar at 'wan" he said to
himself, as the grave dark eyes matins own.
"1 should really have run away had she
been what my fancy painted her—thank
heaven she is not 1 Unformen, shy, inex-
perienced, half frightened, what a wife kr
me—what a mistress for Ravensmere ! I
have no fault to find with her, but I shall
never like her."
So he thought, as in few, brief words the
money.lender introduced his client to his
daughter. There was nothing awkward in
her manner, but she was shy --frightened.
She answered the few questions he asked—
her voice was sweet and clear, with a true
ring about it that he liked—and then re-
lapsed into silence.
Her father asked her for mi set of engrav-
ings, and, as she crosred the room, Lord
Caravan eaw that she had a queenly head,
crowned with a profusion of beautiful dark
hair '• she also had a pleasant grace 'of move-
mentthat for an unformed school girl was
rare.
"Is it to be Yes' or No ?' " asked
‘Arley Ransome as his daughter passed for a ,
minute or two out of sight. You have
Eeen Hildred now—you can judge for your-
self give me your answer."
With a sudden smile—and it was wonder-
ful how that smile changed his face—Lord
Caraven turtle& to his host.
"1 really think," he said, "that she is
emphatically a nice girl—too nice to be Bae-
z' VI's' no sacrifice—she will be happy,"
replied her father. "Do you say 'Yes' or
'No,' myLord ? Time is moneysto me."
You give me less time for consideration
than you would give to a man buying a pie.
tare, he replied. "I see no hope in any
other way; if I did I should refuse. I tell
you frankly that I shall never like your
daughter; you thrust her upon mo, you
make her the only plank between my
miserable self and the dark -waters of death.
I shall never like her—firsb of all, becauae
she is your daughter ; secondly, because she
is not at all the style of girl that I do ad-
mire."
"You are very frank, my lord. Will you
answer me one question Do you love any-
one else?" •
.The young Earl looked puzzled.
"The fact ia," he said, "that I have
loved so many, I really—"
" What I mean is, you are not betrothed
—you have never made an offer of marriage
to anyone else?"
"1 have not had time even to think o
marriage—that is why I dislike the idea o
it
"Then that settles the 'natter. You
say Yee,' and I say 'Yes'; Hildred will be
willing --girls love position, and she ia very
proud."
Something akin to pity stirred in the
Earl's heart.
• "What is Miss Ransome's age?" he
asked. '
"She will soon be 18," replied the
lawyer.
"And," said Lord Cazaven, "so yeuug as
that, do you feel no reluctance at giving her
to a man who tells you honestly than he
will never like her ?"
"You will like her well enough in time,"
replied the lawyer. "Some of the happiest
marriages in the world have begun with a ,
little averaion." .
"There might be more hope if mine were
a little aversion," said Lord Caraven. "It
is something worse. It is profound fatal
indifference. Your daughter may be
Countess of Caraven, if that be your ambi-
tion, but she will never be loved wife of
mina. She is not the style of girl that I
admire, She is shy, unformed. I like
graceful, lovely, radiant woman; that she
Will never be."
"She heal the clearest sense, the soundesb
judgment, and the beat disposition of any
one I know."
"Possibly," said the Earl carelessly.
" Now you know the terms, it regains for
you to say 'Yes.' Your daughter shall be
Countess of Caravan'she shall go to court;
she shall be leading lady of the country;
she will have the family diamontia and all
the vain women most desire—liut I shall
never love her, and, what is More, I shall
never even pretend to do go."
Arley Batisome laughed.
Hildred will do very well without
than" he replied. "Then the bargain is
Ant* my lord. We will say nothing to
my daughter to -day to -morrow I will
speak to her rayselL Allow me to congratu-
late yon; you are a free man no*, Lord
Caraven, and a wealthy ozie."
"1 should have been a wiser one ha n I
taken the revolver," he replied ; and thdri
Miss Ransome returned with the engrav-
ings.
After a few courteotia words he went
away, leaving Arley Ransoms' in a etate of
great delight and elation.
The Earl of Caraventhotight more of him-
self than of the girl, He was ashamed of
the bargain although it wan to save him
from rttiti and death.
" Every thne I look at her," he said to
himself "18 will he a perpetatiel reminder
cif the Most oowarnly action of my life.
had rather a respect for myself as a
thoroughgoing Opendthrift ; I 'despises My-
self toi being the chief partner in such a
Amu bargain. I ask pardon of all the dead
and gone °mavens kr bringing se money -
a* flowers and trees, the silver spray of towline, daughter as, Itaanniannate
He was ashamed of hiinsolf. Ho had lived
without restraint ; but, as his flatterere
eatd, " his vices vrere those of a gentleman."
He had doue nothing then they considered
unworthy of one. He had no broken heart,
no ruined honie laid to hie charge. Iu hie
way he had always reapeoted innocence
and purity. His knits lay in another
direetion,
It had been the misfortune of Utio, Earl
of Ceram', to be born in the purple. All
the good qualities innate in him had been
carefully etified and stamped out by the
most foolish indulgence of parents who
auled ineolence and tyranny high spirits,
who considered mini:hues clever, who foe-
tered his faults instead of correcting them,
Ile grew up with the idea% that the world
was made for hint—that he, by 40100 wipe-
ial privilege, was better than any one else—
that everything and everyone meat give
way to him. His weak, foolish mother
dicd first ; and. as she lay dyin.g some doubt
of the wisdom ef her behavior evidently
came over her, for the last, words she whis-
pered to her Inn:band were "1 am so
sorely afraid of the boy."
Bat Ulrie'e father had no feer ; he con-
tinued the ruinous eystem—the child did as
he liked, said what he liked. Azi for
restraint of any kind, it never incurred to
his parent to exercise it; the boy was de-
nied nothing that he wished. He grew up
to have ne thought but of himself,
So, when the old Earl died, and he sum
ceeded, he thought the world was at his
feet for him to use as he would ; hie estate
was to be burdened end mortgaged to give
him money, the tenants were to be die -
tressed and hard worked to pay him extra
rents. When he disoovered that matters
were going wrong, he made them worse by
engaging an agent, fl Mr. Blantyre, who
was to opprMs more thearlae himself dared
to do. There was no restraint on the Earl
as a man; he was surroundsd by flatkrers,
by bad comnanions ; he soon became a pro-
ficient in all fashionable sins, It was
an unfortunate day for him when the
turf mania seized him. His flatterera--
thom who intended to win Ma mezniy, and
who did win it—pereuaden him that he was
the best judge of horses in England ; in
reality he knew nothing about them. But
when he once began betting his career was
a short one, In seven years he was a
ruined man • still in the spring of his life,
he had run 'through a noble fortune. In
despair at the prospect before him, he
placed all his affairs in the hands of
Arley Ransom°, one of the shrewdest
and.cleverest men in London. Guided by
hint in all things, he had gone steadily
to ruin ; and on this bright June day,
when the sunshine bade the whole world
be gay, he stood is ruined, hopeless, help-
less man.
Ho was quite serious in saying that he
preferred death to life and poverty. He
had lived in luxury from the day of hie
birth ; death had less horror for him than
the ennui, the misery, the loathsomeness of
poverty. The day 04MS when he wanted
twenty pounds and could not raise it—
when Mr. Blantyre threw up hia hands,
deelaring the estate had been drained to its
last farthing. Then the Earl, suddenly
brought to his seriscsi,wrote**todinyley Rau-
sonteoasining hroi TA k.nowIlie exact
state of his affair,. ' Tte result a as his
knowledge of le_ enable ruin.
(ro be continued).
ffithstonary Work in India.
The power of Christian song was eingu
larly illustrated in Indite, not long aince, on
an occasion when a wealthy Hindu gentle-
r:Ian gave is great feast in honor of their
god Kirshna. As usual on such occasions
dancing girls were employed to give eolat
to the entertainment. The' presence and
mugs of these danoers aro such as would
not be tolerated in a Christian assembly.
Yet., to the astonishment of the gentlemen
present, when these girls were asked to sing
they sang " Wtat a Friend We Have in
Jesus 1" aad "Come to Jesus." These
hymns had been taught them by a mission-
ary lady, and as a result of this strange
occurrence the giver of the feaat subse-
quently sent his two daughters to be taught
hymns like these. In this way entrance
was gained into the house of a wealthy
family.
Hot Water for the Public.
The " hot-water fountains" which the
Municipal Council of Paris determined last
year to establish are in operation on the
Boulevard St. Germain, on the south side of
• the Seine. The fountain is an elegan t circu-
lar column provided with a button, which,
being pressed, after placing a sou in the slot,
causes about eight quarts of water to be
almost instantaneously heated by gas to
65 degrees Reaumur, and passed through a
tap into the recipient's pail or can. When
this operation is completed an inner weigbt
rises and the gas is automatically turned
off. The small householders and shop-
keepers of the neighborhood are stated to be
availing themaelves eagerly of this privilege,
which is eventually to be extended to every
quarter of the city and suburbs.
Lees for a Low Table.
One is to put a tray of light refreshments
oa the two -foot high table for 5 o'clock tea,
but there are: many other uses to whick
these little tables lend themselver with
grace. The chess player finds sudh a low
table, which he Can look down upon, much
better suited to his needs than a higher one.
It finds an excellent use as a child's study
table, and it is a delightful reading table.
The Turka, who of all people consult their
convenience 'and understand the art. of com-
fortably furnishing a room, make general
uso of low tables of this kind, which they
call coffee tables. It is a fancy of the hour
to have therm low tables scattered about
one's drawing.roons, and many are copied
from the Turkish coffee Mble,
.Funny Foote.
' Foote was one day taken into White's
Club by a Mend who wanted to write a
note. Standing in a room among strangers,
he did not appear to feel .quite at ease;
when Lord Carinarthen, wiehing to relieve
hi a einbarramment, went up to ; but,
himself, feeling rather shy, merely aid:
Mr. Foote, your handkerehief 40 hang-
ing ont of your pocket."
Whereupon Foote, looking round aus-
piciously, and hurriedly thrusting the hand. -
kerchief back into his pocket, replied:
" Thank you, my lord, thank you; you
know the company better than I do."• '
The honey harvest in Sentland this year
is expected to be less plenteous than usual.
When a young man pawns his winter
overcoat to obtain a bouquet for a young
lady friend it is ne sign that he is very
meth in love. He may be just an ordinary
16f :to?, isahscoee manyhaildot.whmedeinwd ialinter ahl iesprt lit et t)p rallinTtme dR4 Tros gnelt the
back bi the cards she sent out
ntE firm ot Blake, Lash & Ciassela has
atibacribed $1,000 to the Home 'Rule .funcl.
This bringa tho• total to $6,000. Winch
more is needed,
"1 doubt the genuineness of Smith's con,
version." " You do? Why "Hs neve.t
saye anything about what a werthlesel Char.
Iteter and mieterable sinner he toed tsti be."
GASTRONOMIC DAINTIES.
Tested geolpea for Oakes, Salad and.
1;4,7 77:6arc:;?),,....1::::stEtidoh::::::avafeottrivei:iranrec‘gshtsiilepogubaElatore:
, es!,,,,st !reaper as to find
componncled a va-
riety cif good ina.-
terus1s and waited
much time and
labor, the dish
Whiell she hestipre-
?4 pared in careful
conformity to the
directions in the
"cook book" or
na.
ehh o:arwsar 3t:laoarPtinleeurdar et . o%e:V°: imPh
time Or other had
this experience e
Tnere aro quacks in the culinary as males
in the medical line, and it is as hard to guard
against them in one as in the other, . Of
course if a doctor preecribed iron., with a
vegetable astringent a very little cheinical
skill would enable us to see that an error
hal been made. So when a professed cook
gravely tells us to use buttermilk and
baking powder in one cake wo hmitate. Ent
there are many mixturee where
cbluatildofmera et:rriea only discovered at the
o
ls, labor and disappointment.
Sometimes a typographical error retaken
trouble, but oftener,I think, the " failures'?
are the concoctions of those who never
coacpkeerbd,apehroebioarbly some conceited old newe-
pl am going to offer a few recipes which I
have thoroughly tested and which may be
relied upon. if my readers have not used
them, they will find them worth clipping
The firsb ie
' snanwsw. Duna
It is made as follows : 4 eggs; 2 cupa
brown sugar; n cup of butter; 1 cup sweet
milk ; ;3. heaping teaspoons baking powder
oue teaspoon cinnamon; oE a nutmeg; 2
cups flour. Beat the sugar and. butter to a
cream; add the eggs, well beaten (keeping
oat the whites of two) ; then add the milk.
Add the baking powder and spices to the
flour and sift into the mixture. Bake in a
moderate oven.
Use the whiter' of the two eggs and a cup
of powdered sugar for heating.
A noon rnuiT omen.
Christmas is coming, and a fruit cake
made nova will not have tco long to season,
if it is a good one. I have in the house now
pai t of a cake, made by the recipe I am
about to give, that is nearly a year old, and
it is better than it was last Christmas. To
keep well this cako should be placed in a
tin cake box iu a cool, dry room. You will
find it delicious.
Take 3 lbs. raisins (weighed a.fter they
are storied); 3 lbs. currants; 1 lb. butter;
lb. brown sugar; ij lb. flour ; 10 eggs;
wine glass of brandy; 1 tablespoonful cloves;
1 tablespoonful al:spice ; 2 tablespoonfals
cinnamon ; 1 nutmeg ; Si lb. (twieht after
preparatioe) SA eet alms , eienched arid
sliced ; 4 on. candied lemon; 4 ow. citron.;
1 cupful molasses; teaspoon soda or if
preferred, 1 teaspoonful baking powder.
Beat the eggs cream the butter and
sugar and mix with the beaten eggs; add
the brandy, molasses and spices. Have the
currants _ washed thoroughly and dried.
Flour the fruit, using flour out of that
weighed out for the cake; taut the soda (or
baking powder) with the flour used on the
fluit. Add the flour to the mixture and
lastly add the fruit. Bake in a slow oven
3 to 1 hours according to size of loaf. If '
you have not fruit cake tins with separable
bottom° it will be better to line the dishes
used with buttered paper to prevent
scorching.
sow OlarGERBREAD.
If you are fond of soft gingerbread you.
will find this a very palatable one:
Take 2 eggs; 1 cup brown sugar; n cup
molasses; n cup butter; 1 tablespoonful
ginger; 1 teaspoonful each of allspice, cin-
namon and nutmeg. Next put 1 teaspoon-
ful of soda into a cup three parts full of
boiling water and add it to the mixture;
sift in 2 cups of flour. Bake in a slow oven.
A CABBAGE SALAD.
Salads are alvvaya in in season. They are
staples, or should be, with every good cook.
Here is a good one: •
One quart cabbage, chopped fine;
one small tumbler vinegar ; two eggs,
beaten; one tablespoonful sugar; one
tablespoonful butter ; one teaspoonful
mustard; half a teaspoonful salt. 13911 the
dressing until it reaches the consistency of
cream. Allow it to cool and pour it over the
cabbage.
11011B•BEADE PICKLES.
If you have not tried makingiyour win-
ter's supply of pickles, now s the times to
begin. You need fear no failure if you ad-
here to the directions I give. I make
pickles every year and find SO difficultyha
i
securing the best results, My favorite s a
mustard pickle, whkh is made as follows:
White wine vinegar, 3 quarts; mustard,
ln Ib,; Turmeric and bruised ginger of each
2 ozs.; chillies, 1 oz. Boil the vinegar v.nda -
mustard 30 minutes ; remove from the
stove and add the other ingredients:. Be-
fore being put in this pickle, cucumbers and
onions should be packed in salt over night,
and in the morning they should be washed
in clean water and wiped dry. Cauliflower
should be scalded in weak vineger and
allowed to cool before being put fa the
One advantage this pinkie mixture
has it may be prepared early in the season.
and the several vegetables may be added
from time to time as they come in or as op-
portunity. A,few horseradish leaves
laid on top Will effectually prevent mold
g
If you try this mustard pickle you will.
not trade your own f or Croak° &131ackwell's
beat,. Etrankrik M. a
Looking Ahead.
Kind lady—Here's an old dress shirt on
my huebandn, which is the beet I can do
for you. Tramp—Yeu haven't a pair of
plain pearl etude', have you? Kind lady—
Why, what do you want etude for? The
shirt dowel% open in front. Tramp—I
know it madame. But I may be invited to
a musicale or a hop to -night, and I always
like to be prepared.
The following is the inscription of a label
of a Japanese beer bottle, lately brought by
a viaitor from the east. "Hinodefuji Beer.
The efficiency of this beer la to give the
health and eapecially the strength for
Stomach. The flavor is so sweet and simpte
that not injure for much drink."
Are
nier rasYko 0,ed 341 nagwmugsone horf e atdhien silityh-ilsootkuintng.
girl, just for A joke. "Not much, ' she
"A little Kant, tome Schopenhauer,
Btowning and William Morrie. What de
you think of Morris?" And MSWBOD had
to admit he'd never read Morris.
Dunn-Brown—I should like to feel when
I die I leave the world batter than I found
ino.
.tejaelmon—My dear fellow, I am quite
euro the world will be hatter when you are
g
A"