The Herald, 1906-02-09, Page 3CEYLON TEA can now be had everywhere and within the reach of every person
as it can be purchased in Gold Label at 6oc per lb., Red Label at sin, Blne Label
at 4oc, Green Label at 3oc, and Brown Label at 2,0 per ib,, all equally pure tea,
but of course, the cheaper grades are not as fine flavored, not being grown at as
high an elevation as the expensive teas, The latter are produced at an elevation
of 6,000 feet above the sea level.
"All these months past I have been
struggling with my love, sometimes flat-
tering myself that I had crushed it under
foot; but when you speak it always
arises again, and ever masters me. I
thing it was the knowledge that you
were not happy that be was cold and
and unkind to you-"
"Alt!" comes straggling through
Jeanne's parted lips.
"Sometimes I have felt that I could
lay bim dead at my feet; but my scorn
for the creature who could be cold to
you saved him; I pitied him, Jeanne!
But now I know that his heartless con-
duct has driven you from him, hate him,
though he has driven you to me! Ah,
Jeanne, *hen I heard that you had gone
without a word, without a sign, 1 knew
—I knew that I had been right to wait
patiently, and that the hour of my re-
ward had come; and see, -Jeanne, my
love, my goddess, I am here at your
feet!" and he kneels and clasps her
arm.
White and horrified, Jeanne looks
down at him, struggling for the power
of speech. She has not struggled to
thrust him from her, not to shrink
away from bim. She feels rooted to the
spot, fascinated by tie working, agitated
face upturned to her, with such an agony
of appeal and prayer. At last her voice
comes, hoarse and -broken:
"Are—are you mad?" she says, biting
her lips.
He smiles.
"Sometimes I think I am, Jeanne," he
says. "But why need you be so fearful?
There is no danger. The hour has
come when I can speak out. To -morrow
we shall be miles away; Spain, Italy,
where you will; any place on the earth
will be heaven enough for me, if you are
by my side."
"Oh, Heaven!" gasps Jeanne. Then,
m ryours; as completely your slave as I
his clasp, and, bounding away from him, l have ever been. Ah, Jeanne, you will
with an effort„ she tears her arm fri
draws herself up to her full height. not leave me and such love as mine for
•l' `Good," he says. "You have heard all
—all that has passed between Lady Perm
da).e and myse f?"
`'livery word," says Vane, sternly.
"Choose your weapon. Let these be as
words between us.
"As you will," says Clarence.
skint he tales the rapier nearest to lihn.
Pane takes the other, and they fall in-
ti, position; then Clarence dropping the
point of his sword, says quietly:
"You know. Lord Ferndale, that I am
counted rather good at this game. This
is no time for mock modesty. Negt to
my brother, I airs the best swordsman
in England. I would not take an advant-
age."
A cold. smile curves Vane's lips.
`Do you; need to be called a coward
twice tonight; Lord. Lane?" he says.
"Enough," says Clarence, a red flush
coming like a stain across his white face.
"Dnd uself."
Thefeere isyojustrlight enough to see each
other's faces—in fact, to fight. If there
is any disadvantage in the matter of
shadow, Vane has that disadvantage, as
he is under that disadvantage of "being
the inferior swordsman; but cold. and
composed he bandies his weapon, and
keeps a. wary eye fixed on his opponent.
Gleaming in the dim light, the swords
cross and writhe against each other with
a smooth rustle, Both niers have remov-
ed their • coats and waistcoats, and the
upper part of their bodies stand out
whitely against the darkness; Clarence
has also bared his sword arm.
With every nerve strained to its ut-
most tension, they fight; making and
guarding the deadly thrusts, jealously
watching for an opportunity.
Cool as his opponent, the roan he had
o madly striven to wrong, Clarence
gesture of an empress denouncing a
slave.
"Yes," he says, moistening his lips,
"I will go; yhy should I not ? And yet,
I would wait, if, by remaining, 1 could
see you happy; for I love you, Jeanne,
say what you will, overwhelm me as you
may with hard and cruel words. 1 will
go because I could not bear to stay and
see you wretched. Jeanne, considerl his excitement and emotion have weak-
fore
veak
for what reason you ha a left yourl home ened him, and he finds Vane's strong,.
and the protection of your husband, 1 steel -like waist too powerful for hint.
cannot conjecture, I do not know,but I Suddenly hii quicken:: his tierce, and,
know that you cnnott return, oif you working a feint, slips the cruel steel over
should do so, you will find your place Vane's g card, cutting •a long clean slit
usurped. By this time, if I know her across his shoulder. Instantly the blood
aright, if I know him aright, they, too, springs out, and shows redly through
have fled. Lucelle will not have left the white shirt, and Clarence lowers his
this opportunity slip—an opportunity she sword.
has been waiting for. :Do you not un You are wounded,"
he says, "it is en-
derstand ?" ought.
Jeanne's face white as death, eon- Vane's face lights up up.
fronts him inquiringly. "Coward," be exclaims.
"Have you been as blind to lier pas- The next instant Clarence raises his
sion as you have been to mine ? Heaven sword, and renews the attack; but his
help us both ! It is my turn to pity, coolness has gone; white with passion,
Jeanne. Vane loves Lucelle as I love his face is set, his eyes ablaze; with a
you 1" muttered oath, he • thrusts madly, and
"You lie, Lord Lane !" is all she says. again the blood springs from a touch on
He starts and bites his lips to con- Vane's arm. But neither pause, and next
trol himself. instant, as it seems, Clarence's sword
"No," he says, "as Heaven is my wit- falls from his hand, wrung from his
ness, it is the truth. Think—go over grasp by a turn of Vane's supple wrist.
the past few months—remember ! With With hisoints a sudden,rd lons opponent'sg re , heane
whom has Vane spent all hs time—re- Clarence knows the movent too well,
t.
call tete words, the looks that have pass- s and folds his arms; the sharp point
which, between them—words and of and touches, cuts, even his shirt above his
to or you have been sdt- and heart,and before him stands Vane, like
blind. to your own welfare, must—must
have told their own story.Jeanne,
re- death itself.
fleet; there is still time. Snap the Vane's hand trembles, hesitates for
chain which binds you to a man who half a second at the fatal thrust, then
has treated you with studied coldness, drops, and Clarence is spared. With fold -
and who has, by this time, seized the ed arms Clarence stares as if he could
oportunity of setting another woman in not credit his senses; with point lower,
your place; one word, Jeanne, and I am Vane looks .sternly nd silently at him.
Them be throw , . word. from him,
and slowly buttons is wristbands.
Clarence starts, as if from a dream,
and stoops instinctively for his sword,
but arises without it.
"You—you—despise your advantage?"
he says, hoarsely.
"1 spare your life, yes," says Vane,
"as you would not have spared my hon-
or."
Clarence trembles and his face works,
"Vane—" he says, brokenly.
"Silence," says Vane. "Let there be no
words between us. You can tell me noth-
ing that I do not know. We part here.
Lord Lane, forever."
With a glance of doubt, with a sud-
den inward gathering of alarm, he looks
up at her.
"Jeanne!"
"Silence!" she gasps.' "How dare you
call me by that name? How dare you
speak to me . as you have done, unless
you are mad! How dare you follow and
Insult me! Rise—no, stand back! One
other such speech, one step toward me,
and I call for help. I am not alone and
unprotected, as you deemed, you cow-
ard. Coward!"
As if she had struck hien, Clarence rises
and staggers away from her, a deathly
pallor spreading slowly over his face.
"Coward!" he echoes, wildly.
"Yes, coward!" repeats Jeanne, pas-
sionately, her face and eyes ablaze,
• "Would any but the basest coward that
ever drew breath follow a woman and
insult her, as you have insulted me? You
love me. You are incapable of love. Men
love, not reptiles that creep and crawl
along a man's hearth for months, to
choose the moment when they deem his
wife alone and helpless, to follow and
insult her! You love!! You dare tell
me that, and pretend that I knew it—
knew it months agol So you think that
I would have lived an hour in the same
air you breathed, if I had known,
guessed, dreamed of it! Love you! 1
loathe you! I detest! I scorn you!"
Breathless, panting, she confronts him,
one hand extended as if to cover him
with the scorn and contempt which ring
in her tones and flash in her eyes.
Clarence leans against the balcony, his
eyes fixed on hers, his lips moving for a
moment in silence; then he stands up-
right, one hand grasping the rail of the
balcony, the other wiping the cold sweat
from his face,
"I must be mad," be utters, looking
at her vacantly—"mad! You loathe me!"
"I loathe you! Oh, do not think I
fear your"—for, with a start, be has
made a movement toward her. "Keep
away from me, or I call witnesses to
your discomfiture and disgrace."
And site half turns to the door.
With a half gesture of despair and
weakness, he holds up his warning hand.
"Stop!" he says, "there is no need. I
am not the coward you deem rhe,
Jeanne,"
I am the Marchioness of Ferndale,
Lord Lane," says Jeanne, erect and
scornful.
"1Z am no coward, save in my love for
you," he says, hoarsely, slowly, as if
every word cost him a physical effort;
"and though I was mad, you have
brought me to my senses. There has
been some mistake, some cursed mis-
take t" he groans, looking at her re-
moraefuly. "Why have you fled from
the castle—why are you hero alone ?"
"I have not'fled from my home, Lord
Lane --I am not alone,' says Jeanne,
"But I deny your right to ask any such
questions d me, and I refuse to answer
a man who does not, and never has loved
you ? Jeanne, speak to tae. One kind
word, and all your cruel ones are forgot-
ten. Jeanne," and he kneels again to
her.
Jeanne does not move, does not hear,
apparently, for a minute; then she looks
at hini.
"Arise," she says, coldly, as if he were
some dog who had exhausted her pati-
ence. "You are mad, indeed; and if you
were not, if all you had said were true,
listen to the last words you will ever
hear from my lips, Lord Lane. I would
rather be the life-long slave of him you
traduce, living in his hourly scorn and
contempt, cowering beneath his actual
cruelty, dying for one word. of kindness
from him, than breathe the air you
breathe. Go 1"
He arises—staggers, rather—to his
feet, and stands before her, with the face
and manner of a man crushed by a sud-
den age.
"You—you love him !" he says
hoarsely,
"I love him, and I loathe you!' she
says. "Go!"
Without another word he stoops and
picks up his hat, and, like a man smitten
with sudden deereptitude and blindness
makes for the steps, guiding himself by
the rail. Once, with his foot upon the
step, he turns, but her extended hand
scornfully dismissing hint, ssems to re-
call him to a sense of manhood, and,
steadying himself, he raisesehis hat.
"Good-bye, Jeanne," he says. "Heav-
en help us both."
Then he goes down slowly, step by
step.
Arrived at the bottom, he bows his
head and stands in the cool breeze, mo-
tionless, as if to recover his strength.
Then he turns and without a back-
ward glance, makes for the wood.
Ile has almost reached it, has almost
got into the shadow, when he feels a
hand upon his shoulder.
Mechanically lie turns, and sees con-
fronting him the stern face of Vane.
CHAPTER XLIII.
Por a moment Lord Lane thinks it is
a vision of his distempered brain.
"Vane !' he says.
With a gesture Vane silences him, and
pointing to the wood, motions him stern-
ly to proceed.
Clarence obeys, and takes a few steps
then stops.
Vane turns and faces him—calm, com-
posed, but with an ominous glitter in
his eyes, and a threatening tightening of
the lips.
"You here, Vane," says Clarence. "How
—how long—"
"Long enough to learn the extent of
your villainy," says Vane.
Clarence throws back his head with a
harsh sneer. All fear has left him now
that ie is a man with whom he has to
deal.
"You have heard all," be says. `And af-
ter—what follows?"
"This," says Vane, and points to the
lity Thy
is
di
Blue Ribbon Tea is made faultlessly. That is
why it has outdistanced all others on sales
and satisfaction.
ONLY ONE BEST ---BLUE RIBBON TEA.
At last he goes quietly up the steps
and stands beside the window.
A form, whose every feature is graven
on his heart, kneels at the bed, the .head
bowed on the white, strained hands, the
long, silken hair fallen from its bands
and covering the bowed shoulders.
For a moment he stands motionless,
then he opens the window and enters the
TWIT].
The sound of his light step cruses her,
and Jeanne turns her head, staring
wildly,
Then, without uttering a word, she
reads in his face that the past is swept
away: with a low cry, she holds out
her arms, and the next moment Vane
is kneeling beside her, and has her
pressed to his heart.
"Jeanne --Jeanne!" he murmurs; "my
darling! my wife! Oh, IIeaven forgive
me! forgive rne!"
Shaken by sobs, she clings to him, her
arms around his neck, her long hair fall-
ing over his breast, and hiding her face
ftont him; and ever, all he can say, is:
"Jeanne, my wife!—my wife!"
At last she lifts her head and looks
at him—one lone, hungering look that
cleaves through to his soul, then, with a
little half -sob, half -smile, she lays her
head against his, and seems to sleep.
Three—five minutes paes. Suddenly
she shrinks from him and puts her hand
to her cheek, and, with a low cry of
horror, stares at her fingers.
"Hush—hush, darling!" he implores.
"Jeanne, Jeanne, it is nothing—nothing!
I—Vane. tell you so! My darling, it is
nothing!"
But she will not be satisfied.
"No—no!" she sobs, panting. "Show
me'." And with eager sads she helps
him take off his coat. "Oh ---oh, Vane!
—oh—oh, look!"
And she covers her eyes. as a corpse. As the doctors did not
Clarence's head droops.
"So be it," he says and he slowly puts
on his coat and 'waistcoat.
Then he turns and looks at Vane with
the agitation that threatens to master
him.
"`Vane," he says, "I—I have wronged.
you. As you say, no words can better it
or make things even between us; but I
will say this that I am not alone to
blame. You have mach to answer for. If
you have overheard all that has passed—
well, I say no more but this had she
been happy, no word, no thought nor
wish of mine would have wronged you!"
Vane looks at him, and a spasm of pain
passes over his face,
"Heaven forgive us both, as I forgive
you; now go."
And without a word. more, Clarence
turns and is swallowed up by the dark-
ness.
Vane waits until his departing foot-
steps have died. away, then goes hurried-
ly in the direction of the inn.
Having reached the steps of the bal-
cony, he pauses.
Gone from his face, completely ban-
ished is the haggard, drawn look that
has disfigured it so long, gone, vanished,
is the cold, stern wrath which recently,
crying for vengeance, distorted it half
an hour since, and in their stead is the
dawning of a great joy, which once more
Makes the face like to that which used
to look so lovingly at the wild, light-
hearted Jeanne of the Nancy Bell.
At the foot of the steps he pauses,
and, with lowered head, waits to still
the tumultuous beating of his impatient
heart. Speechlessly be looks up at the
window where had stood his beautiful
young wife, vindicating her honor and
repulsing so nobby, so bravely, the
tempter.
If he had never eared for her, he
would have loved her to -night; judge,
then how impetuously burns the pas-
sionate adoration which has been so
sternly kept under for many weary
weeks and m.
As he stands
onthsloolring up, it seems that
the interval between this hour and the
hour when he hid her in his arms—his
wife—passed away like an intangible,
troubled dream, tate gulf closes to yawn
between thein never again; all vanish
like clouds before the sun— thedoubt,
distrust, coldness, slid despair. Between
hint and tlto woman be
loves so passion.
Xf you have one spark of mann- 11101y—whom he adores now—lie only a
ieass left in you, you will rid .yourself of ease of rapiers which lies open a few few steps. So Peat, so deep is his emo- defectsstrife and put les, money in Ins pocket? A dues not bring in the phenomenal tee
shore steads her yards from,them. tion, that he a toxo dreads to traverse st
�� hand with the Clarenyards
ee nods and biles his lips. them.
moral tone ought to be )nfused into the turas popularly supposed,
profession which should drive such seen
out of it."
It has been truly said that those
words should. be posted in every law
office in the land, and it will be seen,
when Lincoln's record is fully exam-
ined, that it was not a mere theorist
who wrote then, but an active practi-
tioner of wide experience who lived up
to his own teaching.—From Frederick
Trevor Hill's Lincoln tbe Lawyer, in the
February Century.
A MOVER'S DUTY
She Should Carefully Guard the Health
of Her Growing Daughter—Her Future
Happiness Depends* Upon the Change
from Girlhood to Womanhood.
Every mother should watch with
the greatest care the health of her
growing daughter. She is a girl to-
day—to-morrow a woman. The happy
health of womanhod depends upon
this vital change from girlhood.
When nature makes new demands up-
on her blood with Dr. Williams' Pink
Pills. Her system is unequal to that
stain if her back aches, if she is pale
or thin, dull -eyed or langld. Dr.
\Villiams' Pink Pills will give her
new, rich red blood and tide her
over the crisis. Dr. Williams* Pink
Pills will make her development per-
fect and regular —they will make her
a. strong, happy, graceful woman.
Miss Enerine Vilandre, St. Germain
Que., says: "While attending schoo�
my health began to give way. I suf-
fered from headaches and dizziness
my appetite left me and I grew pale
Soothing her as a another might a
child, Vane tears the sleeve from his
shirt, and goes to the washing -stand.
Then springs up the woman, the wife,
within her. With a low, inarticulate cry
she stops him; with her own hand pours
out the water, and, shuddering, washes
the slight cut.
"There, see! Look, darling!" be im-
plores, laughing to reassure her. "Why;
it is not so bad as your finger—don't
you remember? Look! a scratch. There,
bind that around it so, and so; and now
it is ill •right.. lend, obe Jeanne, J,
have thought death ttha •cheap i p
to pay for this night's. proof of y
dear love! There, no more tears. CC
to me, Jeanne, my wife!"
And slowly- creeps up the dawn.
* * * 0x * *
While Vane and Jeanne were sit
side by side, heart to heart, snaking t
teal confession and receiving mut
absolution—though, after all, there
not much said that night—a few wo
cleared up the mystery of their sep
tion and disposed of Lady Lucelle,
a few word's on Jeanne's part explai
her flight from the castle. It was g
to see Vane start when Jennne, poi
ing to the inner room, whispered t
the Princess Verona was there; it was
also good to see his look of astonish- Greenhouse work, particularly w
meat and dismay, when Jeanne, blushing withconfined to vegetable raising, is a good
away
and confused, the same princess. std that Hal had run deal of a mysteryto the uninitiated.
Vane had been so engrossed by his The fancy prices which hot house fruits
own love trouble that he had had no always bring naturally suggest large
eyes nor ears for anybody else's. profits. The cost of maintaining a hot
"And where is Hal now, darling?" he house, providing for its heating and
care, consumes a large proportion of
the gross returns.
Just what can be accomplished with
one or two crops which, however, are
riot the most profit -able, has been dis-
closed by the State Hortieulturalist of
New Jersey. This authority vouches
for the correctness of the figures givt
below. He places the cost of maintain-
ing a green house 100 feet by 20 feet
at about $300 a year. When planted
in tomatoes, the average marketable
yield of fruit, based on an experience
of some six years, bas been about 32
ounces per square foot. This fruit, com-
ing on the market at a time when, sup-
plies cannot be brought from the south,
and are not available from outdoor
maps, brings a very good price, some of
it higher, and some of it lower, but
averaging, say, 24 cents a pound.
Carrying the caxculation through on
this basis, shows a net profit for a house
having 2.000 square feet of about 8423
per annum.
To secure this result many precau-
tions have to be taken in the prepara-
tion of the bench soil, the maintenance
of a uniform temperature, the fumiga-
tion of the house, the spraying of the
vines, and numerous other details repre-
senting labor and expense. Before the
houses are filled they are smoked with
sulphur for two days to kill any spores
that may have survived from the pre-
vious year. The benches are then filled.
with frozen earth to avoid the poesibili-
ty of root gall and. to insure as far as
possible the absence of obnoxious animal
life.
The plants that are to be set out
are smoked with tobaccopowder to kill
ev hatever insects may bo brought in
with them.
These are ell preventive measures,
and after the vines have corn into
bearing they are subject to many dis-
eas'ee whieh require much manipulation
and spraying to remedy. Taken alt in
t li the business is as hazardous as truck-
ing,
r ck-fnag, and, considering the investment,.
help me any my father got mea sup-
ply of forhadi used two Williams'
im�
Be-
fore I boxes there was
an improvement and when I had
taken a half dozen I was again in
perfect health. I believe all weak
girls will find new health if they take
Dr. Williams' Pink Pills."
Thousands of growing girls, and
thousands of women owe health and
happiness to Dr. Williams' Pink Pills.
They keep the blood rich and pure
.v . banish headaches
asked.
"Gone to fetch you," said Jeanne,
bending her face against M's.
(To be continued.)
DELICATE FROM BIRTH.
In three words --"delicate from birth"
is expressed a world of amxieties suffer-
ed by mothers whose babies ;have had a
bad start in life. For babies who are
ailing, peevish, cross and unable to di-
gest their food Baby's Own. Tablets
acre invaluable. They act almost like
amegic,+and change cross, peevish children
into smiling, happy babies. Mrs. J. W.
Munroe, Sintnlutta, N. W. T., says: "1
have used Baby's Own Tablets for two
years, and would not like to be without
them. They have changed our weak,
eiickly baby into a fat, healthy little
girl. I can warmly rceontauend the Tab-
lets to other mothers. And mothers
have a guarantee that the Tablets con-
tain no poisonous "soothing" stuff, or
harmful drug. They are absolutely safe
and always do good. Sold by medicine
deafens or by mail at 25 cents a box
by writing the Dr. Williams' Medicine
Co., Brookville, Ont.
LINCOLN'S ADVICE TO LAWYERS.
"Discourage litigation," was his ad-
vice to lawyers. "Persuade your neigh-
bors to compromise whenever you can.
Point out to them now the nominal
winner is often the real loser in fees,
expenses and waste of time. ,As a
peacemaker the lawyer has a superior
opportunity of becoming a good roan.
There will always be enough business.
Never stir up a litigation. A worse
man can scarcely be found: than one
who does this. Who can be more nearly
a fiend than Ile who habitually over-
hauls the register of deeds in search of