The Herald, 1904-07-08, Page 3" That comes ler having a beautiful
'lace," put in frank Captain Hill. "A
beautiful face is better than a for -
lune."
"'At times," said Darcy Lonsdale.
"Every beautiful woxgan is net fav-
ored like Lady Chevenix."
Then matters pertaining to the
•estate were discussed by the execu-
tors; and it was arranged that,
with the young widow's consent, all
businese should still be left in the
hands. of Mr. Lonsdale.
A very different scene was passing
In the room where Lady Chevenix sat
with her mother. Mrs. Hoye was
walking up and down, her pride and
elation almost more than she could
conceal.
"I always liked Sir Owen, my dear.
I always said that he was a most
honorable man. What could be nobler
than his treatment of you? I have
known such terrible things happen "
"What kind of things, mamma 7'
astral the widow—but there was little
interest in the tone of her voice.
"Teer'ibie things, my dear. I have
heard of rich men dying and leaving
a handsome fortune to their wives
on condition that they never mar-
ried again. Now, I call that most
atrociously mean."
"So it is, mamma," said Lady
'Chevenix—"and very wrong, too."
She spoke, however, as one whose
thoughts were no't with her words.
She had untied 'tire widow's cap'
and was caressing with her fingers
thle long ,golden hair that fell over
her shoulders. Mrs. fiaye did not
observe her.
"Sir Owen, you see, Violet, had
more sense than that. I have
never heard of a more generous
will. Only 26—and you do not look
20—young, beautiful, with! a Dor-
tune like that—what more could
any woman desire?"
"I desire no more, mamma. I only
feel as though I wanted a long
rest. I am very tired; no one can
tell• how 'tired I am."
"Your income will be over thirty
thousand a year. Only think of
thlat ! And it was so good of your
dear husband to leave your father
and myself five thousand pounds;
it shoved such a kind feeling. It
seems strange thlat se meth good
fortune should have fallen to
your Tete'
The 'young eviddw looked round
her e uu ptuous room.
"Yes," she said, "it seems strange
to remember theet I was once Vio-
let Hayes"
"'Beautiful Violet Ilaye' all the
young farmers called you," rejoin-
ed Mrs. flays. Then she saw, the
golden hair lying on the folds of
crape. An expression of horror
came oyer 'her face. "My deo:
Violet, how can you be so care-
less," she cried—"and after such a
Will UR•that? Put on your cap, my
dear child, at once ! Only imagine my
feelings If one of the servants saw
you! I slionlcl never forgive reyeelfe,
"I did not think of what 1 was do-
ing," sithi Lady Chevenix, languidly.
"But you must think of such thirg .
You must study appearances. It is a
d Mrs. Haye hastened to her daugh-
ter's side, and with her owe bands
wound the golden hair into a largo
knot, and pla.eed the cap securely on
her head.
"Do not take it off again, Violet,"
elle said ; "after such a will, it seems
quite heartless."
She wondered why her daughter
laughed, witn a tired, hopeless ex-
pression—she who was mistress pf
thirty thousand a year.
. CBAP.I}Ele
Long months had passed since
Sir Owen was laid in his grave;
and notes August was come round
again, with its ripe fruits and ye1-
lo'wt corn. Lady Chevenix, every one
agreed, was ct model widow. Dur-
ing the interval that had elapsed
since her husband's death, hardly
any one •had seen her. Visitors had
called, but had never been admit-
ted; they had left cards end con-
dolences, and had each approved
of the fact that Lady Chevenix
kept herself quite seoiuded.
Mrs. Haye spent •a great deal of
time with her daughter. It was In-
deed that most estimable lady who
had advised the long course of se-
clusion—who' saw that the golden
head was not uncovered until t1Ye
proper time—who brought to her
daughter all the news of the outer
world, and formed the one link be-
tween her and society in 'general.
Nothing could have ibee-n more de-
eoroue or proeer; and every one
felt it to be quite the right tieing
to speak of Lady Chevenix as "feel-
ing her hueband's loss so keenly'
that she was no longer able to see
any one.
Did she feel it so keenly ? She
never asked herself the question.
She had been overwhelmed with the
horror of the closing scene—as in-
deed h'ad every one else who had
witnessed rte It 'leaci haunted her
sleeping and raking )hours, as it
h!ad the days and nights - of every
othler witness. She had been stunned
and bewildered by it. She had been
so frightened that all her natural
high spirits had left her. Did Who
regret Sir Owen very much ? She
could not tell—sire never asked her-
eelf the question. She had been
shocked, startled, horrified—but it
wean not the keen sorrow of her loss
that made her shrink from sill ob-
servation. It was rather the rear-.
tioe from which she had suffered.
still. Siete often started in alar
from her seat, ber heart beating with
terror, thinking that, she heard her:
husband's voice; then she r'em' m-
bered that he was dead. She woke
often from her sleep, her pillow wet'
with' tears, her whole frame trem-
bling wide' the tremor of some ter-
rible dream, in which her husband
wan an active figure=and then Rho
remembered with' a strange emotion
that he was dead.
It was strange to go about the
house without fear; it was strange
to give her orders with the certain-
ty that they would be obeyed; it ware
strange to know that she need teem,
ble and suffer no more. There were
to be no more anxious hours spent in
waiting for her husband's going out~
and coming in ; it was all over —
late was dead. , She said the words
to herself a hundred times a day—
"SIr Owen• is dead," She bac! found
tt dlffic;,lt to realize her Fulaervien.e;
she found it just as difficult to real-
ize her independence. She told
herself a,t times tbat she was abso-•
Ite mistress of lGarswood—absolute
mistress of thirty :thousand a year ;
but eh.e 'could neither realize nor
understtand it.
One day Lord Arlington found it
necessary. to see Lady Chevenix on
business ;he was accompanied by
Captain Hill. She received them with
quiet grace, and listened with intel-
ligence to all their business state-
ments ; then she said it was her ex-
press wish that Da.rey Lansdale
Atould continue to act in every way
for her, but, as he `would have more
to do, she insisted on doubling the
salary Sir Owen had paid him. Lord
Arlington was very pleased about it,
and the interview ended satisfactor-
ily.
Darcy Lansdale, spent
Whole days at 'Garswcod ; and it was
strange that he never once men-
tioneclt Felix to Lady Chevenix—nor
did slat. enquire about him. But one
day, when some protracted business
was coming to an end, she looked up
suddenly and said :
'' Your son was very kind to me
In my distress, Mr. Lonsdale.' I can
never forget how kind he was. But
for him I do not know what I should
have done."
"1 am sure that he would be
pleased to be of service to you,
Lady Chevenix," he replied.
"It was doubly kind of him- He
heaped coals of fire on my head," she
declared, warmly. After a few zrilr.a
utes she added; "I should like ery
much to make him a present? Mr.
Lonsdale—just as a slight acknow-
lodgment of his kindness to me. I
should like to present him with a
diamond ring. I thought I would
Consult you first. What do you
thunk of it 1
She saw Darcy Lonsdale's face
flush. He did not answer for a feet
minutes ; then he replied ;
"I will speak to you quite frank.
ly, Lady Chevenix. I do not think
tri<it bo would like it."
Fhb bowed to him.
el am glad that I asked' yon," she
replied. ''You know best."
"I am quite sure that the fact of
hie having been of service to you
will be far more to him than any
diamond ring or anything that couel
bo given to him," said Darcy Lons-
dale.
' How is your son 7;; sho asked. 'Is
he well? He never comes here."
" He is quite well, but so busy that
we see little of him at home. He
works without intermission."
She looked as though she would fain
ask some other question. She played
for a few minutes with the strings
of her widow's cap, and her beautiful
face flushed. Whatever the question
might have been that she wished Ito
ask, it remained unspoken.
On that same evening her mother
was at ihrswood. Lady Chevenix
eeemed restless. She changed her
neat continually ; and then, tired of
sitting, she walked up and down the
xoom.
You are ` very restless, Violet,"
said Mrs. 'Haye. " Why is it, my
dear ?"
" I want to hear some news of my
Lilford friends; none of them come
near me. How is Eve Lester, mam-
ma ? Has she a fiance yelt It Is there
any rumor of her marriage?"
" No. People say that she has re-
fused some good offers—no one knows
Why',' said Mrs. Hayes.
" .And—ano Felix, Lonsdale, mamma.
Is he going to marry ?"
leer a, moment Mrs. Haye ]coked
keenly at her daughter, and then she
answered carelessly :
"I hear nothing of him. I do not
think be wall ever find time to marry ;
ho has too much business."
"Does he—let ins think—what is
the Ltlford phrase ?—doss. he 'pay his
addresses' to anybody ?"
.She waited restlessly 'tor the ,ans-
rve
"No," replied .Urs. Haye, "I have
not heard that he does; in ,fact, leo
has no time."
She booked again at her slaughter,
but Violet's Sams was turned to the
'window.
Later on' tiers. Hays began talking
to her of the brilliant second mar-
riages she had Beard of—marriages
elf fair young widows who had been
left with large foratnes—how they
had made most .brilliatitt matches,
Married lords and dukes', filled grand
positions, and made lanaous names.
She did not say that there was a
anoral to be drawn.. from all this;
Dec she left it for her' slaughter
to. think over. . , -
Set time pawed; diad at last Lady
Chevenix wrete, toimplore ei r1a,n
aetilepte to return' to her, if only
ror a few, days—fox ,she was longing
for a change. .Bat when Aiaria:1
canoe it was 'foundthat she bad per..
mission to remain six meths If Lady
Chevenix eeelred it
miss eeerote deplored the sudden
aind .ntimely dektll of tho master
:af .Garswood ; but them could' bo
no doubt,
icer second visit was n oro
pleasant thee; her first. Laxly Chev-
enix was .obeered by the presence of
tier young guest; it was novel to
hear the sound of "a .laugh in the
gloomy Hall. Marion said to her one
f"h
"Dear Lady evenix, do you
kniow what, it I were in your place,
1 should do ?"
"I cannot guess," she replied.
"I should leave Garswood for a
few months, or longer. This house le
haunted, I am sure, for you."
"That is just it," she acknowledged,
'it is }taunted. If I go into the lib-
rary; I see, my husband there. I fancy
1 hear his voice in the corridors.
Thera, is not a room in the house
which has not some sad or sorrow-
ful association. I should like to go
away,. Marian. Will you come with
me?' Mamma cannot. "
"I will go with pleasure," she re-
plied'. "Where shall 'we go ? Shall it
be to Scotland, Switzerland or
France?"
"Let us go to Normandy,"' said
Lady Chevenix ; "and I should
like to stay away some time. Per-
haps if your mamma wants to see
you she will pay us a visit there.
We shall take some pretty chateau;
and then I shall regain what I
have lost—my health and youth and
spirits."
So it was settled and in three
weeks after that gonversationi Lady
Chevenix and Miss Ilothcote left
Garswood, to spend some months in
picturesque Normandy.
Lady Chevenix sent for Darcy
Lonsdale, and said farewell to him.
S,h•o olid another tiring which pleased
the lawyer very much, though he
said little, about it. When pass-
ing through London she sent such a
hamper of toys to the Lonsdale chil-
dren as had never been seen before.
There were not one among them for-
gotten. • To Irate she sent such or-
naments that her eyes were daz-
zled ae she looked at them; to Darcy
himsetf she sent a superb diamond
ring.
In the letter that accompanied
these presents she said:
"I did not see your son to bid him
farewell; 'but tell him that I send
my kindest wishes, and thanks for
kind sympathy and help that I shall
never forget."
Darcy Lonsdale looked at his son
w,hen he read the message; but Felix
turned away without a word; nor
did'he ever mention Lady Chevenix's
name. Darcy Lonsdale was pleased
with tier 'thoughtfulness.
"Her sorrow- has clone her good,"
he said to lass wife...
Due that atatirti,t i 11'A ib'arly sho^k
her head gravely; even he spark-
ling ornaeneete bed not "ii inged her
opinion.
've
to .
thtelI,
the ea.
suddenly. There,
ns sling ;Cade
reign,, but eerie
lone -Jere awoke
SfI�
it •was about
chief orenew:et, anti tbat
Vas come to r10 all lamer to:
Baugh ter,
No o o watt more delighted than
Felix. le his beeat` bo thought no once
good enough for .till., noble, beautl
ful woman whom he admired, and
WU'o had been to hint the best and
truest of friends. He was sorry : to
lose her ; lie knew that Bamber
Towers would neveragain be the
place it had .been wbile'she reigned
there ; at the saute time he was de-
lighted that ber noble life hail its
reward in a noble love. • • ' '
Lady Maude 'could leave told .how
the had keyed the brave soldier before
he went to the war in which he had
gained such renown. She could leave
told how she bad garnered her love
in he'r heart, and had kept it as a.
priceless treasure, never dreaming
that It could have a. happy ending,
yet preferring .to love a. hero, and
love in vain, than to be the wife
of a peer.
,But Major Rawson loved ber, and
there was no obstacle to ,their mar-
riage. He was heir to an ancient•,
title, too, and a large fortune., She
had a fortune of her own. So all
Loamshire awoke, and roused itself
to do honor to the marriage of its
queen. •
The marriage was to take place at
the old parish _'church of Lilford..
Lady Maude would have it so. The
Countess of Arlington has suggested.
London, and St. George's, Hanover
Square. Lady Maude had laughed.
'Let it be the old 'church on the
hill. mamma," she had Bald. "It is eel
odd lance., but I Welk; I should not
feel that I had been married unless
these solemn old oaks bad shaken,
their heads overme; and the rooks
,had held a conference about my
wedding,"
So, as Lady Macule had had Here
way all her life. she had it now,
and the ceremony was to be per-
for'med in the old church.
The rejoicings were great and
many. It would have done any one's
heart good to bave seen the Gere -1
mony and . the crowds of children;
svithi flowers to strew before the
birde—to have seen the poor, the
old, the infirm, all going upto the
church to have one last look at her,
who had been so good • to them ale
It was a magnifieent ceremony,peers I
and peeresses, with' some of the first'
people in tiie land, were there. The
little gray church seemed to be filled
with smiling races and costly dresses.
But to Lady Maude nothing on ber
wedding -day was so dear or so prec-
ious as the blessings of the children;
and the poor.
Tem wedding breakfast was
given at Brarnber Towers —
and so goodly a company, had never
sat there before. Mr. and Mrs. Lone -
dale, with Felix, were invited. Of all
the guests who clustered round the
beautiful bride to 'bid her farewell,
sho gave most heed to Felix. She went
aside with liim'for a moment, for she
read in his face that he longed to
say somothing to her. She never for-
got the few words that he did say.
She laid her hand in his for a second;.
he bent down and kissed it with tears
in his eyes.
"How am I to thank ;you, Lady;
Maude," lie card, "for all that yon
have done for nee 7 You cane to me
in this darkest moment of my' life,
and I owe to you, after Heaven, all
that I am. How much I thank
you?"
Sho looked - p .with a smile into
the handsome face that Was full of
emotion.
('Po Ise tiontinuede , se! .
The state -rooms at q•arswcol were
closed, and silence reigned where
poor Sir Owen hoed at., times made
daylight hideous and night terrible.
:again the neighborhood was de-
lighted, Nothing could have been
more proper. I'eopiel told each ether,
with sympathetic faces, that "dear
Lady Chevenix" had gone abroad to
recruit herself after Herr great trial.
Even Lady Rolfe ?aid' to' herself that
it was one of the most sensible things
elm could have done, and that after
all she had turned out better than
ehe, for one, had ever anticipated.
"I think, Lavinia,"' she said, "that
it was fortunate you lost such a
chance. A widow with so much
wealth ! It is very sad. I never like
to thine of it."
"I WOn-s nee have changed places
erith Lady Chevenix for all the
,money Sir Owen was worth," said
tho curate's wife. "I have at least
a good, kind husband,mamma,
while the poor girl lived in fear of
Dosing her life. ibaney, is a greet
advantage ; but it is not all the
World. I am happier now than I
ebould have been had I married Sir
Owen,"
After a few days the gossip about
Lady Chevenix died away ; while she
and Marian made themselves cam-
tartablo in their pretty chateau.
Violet ...a., Sereevered her bloom ; a
iavely tinge as of a blue rose came
to her face •'
her eyes grew brighter'
and lost all their shadow; the last
few years seemed to fall from her,
and elm looked young and fair—as she
had looked when she married Sir
Owen.
" You appear to bo so well," said
D,farian to her ono day, "yet you
are so thoughtful. What are you
always thinking about, Lady Chore -
nix ?"
"Am I always t inking?" she
asked, with a happy brooding light
In her eyes. "1 cid not know it."
" What Is it about ? Something
pleasant, I am sure, for you 'smile
as you think, and it tunes a little
pink flush creeps up to your hair
even. 1 speakto you, and you de
,
snot hear me. I leave you, and ,you
do not miss me. Why is It, I won-
der ?"
onder?"
But Lady Chevenix evade no an-
ewer. She never imparted to any one
tbese the most reasured thoughhts
of her life.
c iP e XLIV.
Ail Loomshalre was shaken to rte'
very center, Sunlit news had not been
heard in•tho neighborhood for years;
there was a general sentiment of vee
legatee. Lady Maude Arlington Wee
going to be married—.Lady Maude,:
whom. all the inhabitants of the
county looked upon as a princess.;
Whom wan she going to marry?
That was , the question every; :.Orae
asked. And the answer gavo. "unit
versa! pleasure. It was the biro
tltb Victoria Cross --Major Masson,
Every one Was delighted, with the
alliance. Lady Maude 'Wee so' 'be;'
loved ; whale the name of ltlajor Raww.
!son was known wherever bravery on
rnlo"r was Whored. , ,
?[Tfl,G CRIMEN.
;When la ohiid . feats and cries
ino$t e,on,tinuoo sl;y1 the root of
trona!leie in nine ealsee Out Of ten
wvitli Otho ,stom.1'ac1l er bowels', Ferro
tatian and de'eganpositionof the f
means collo, bloc.tieg and dipryb
tiie latter is eipecmallyi danger
and Often fatal clueleg, `'tine bet we
tiler months, B,abetee Own Tablets a
joust what .ever'yi"n oltber neede'tp ke
her little enee hea.lth'yl: 'These Ta
lets gently re;g'ulnte ' the bowel
curs oonetiplaition, preventidiarrhoe
cleanse end 'cool the ,stoinlaoh,` an
pironiote pound natural .sleep. ZVi
Tablets can be ,given with sarety1 t
al new born babe. Mass l eek, Eob
B'a'g, Ont., ,says; "I think Baby's Own
'1'la.'bict's 'tae beet medicine in "the
!world for •tine ailments cot little' oneg
No mother should be witboult them:"
Sold by all . druggglete or sent Iby
snail at 25 cents a box ibyi 'writing
The lar. Williams' 11d{edleine Co.,
Brookville, Ont. ' • 1 ,
THE BEEF RING.
Farrfier.s may Have Fresh Meat
in Summer.
Department of Agriculture,' Commie'
signer's Branch. .
Although live stock is grown on
almost every. Canadian farm, the
farmer aA a rule, finds it very diffi-
cult to furnish his table with fresh
meat during the summer months. en
order to make the use of fresh, meat
possible in Every farm home, even
during the summer months, the Live
Stock Commissioner, Ottawa, re.
commends the more general estab•
lieliment of beef riege, which have
been sucessfully carried an for yeare
in some sections of Canada.
Beef lungs.—Tlaese rings are not
as tag name might indicate, "trusts'
for tho control of the production and
sale of beef, but are groups of farm-
ers who co-operate to supply their
tables with fresh meat during the
summer. The ring is usually com-
posed of sixteen, twenty or •twenty
four members, although sometimes as
many as forty are enrolled. Eace
member agrees to supply one beel
animal during the summer,. and in
order to give plenty of time for pre.
paration, the members drawl lots ;the '
previous winter to determine the or-
der in welch they Shall contribute
animals. After the drawing members
May exchange numbers if they find it
mutually advantgaeoue. 'Dw.;o small
families may combine for one phare.
T.he A'ninial,—The regulations use
ually provide that each member shall
supply a steer or heifer under three
yeare old, sound, healthy, and In good
condition, dressing Trom 400 to 5
pounds of beef, and grain -fed for al
least box weeks previous to kiliin
If an animal is not up to the stand-
ard it may be rejected andthe own..
er compelled to supply another, or it
may be accepted at a lower velem;
tion. 'The decision in such cases is
left to the secretary of e, duly ape
pointed committee of inspection.
Killing and distribution—A butcher
is employed to kill and cut up the
animals, the owner retaining the
head, heart, fat and hide. The amount
paid for killing and cutting up a beast
is usually $2 to $2.50, 'wath an ex -
tar dollar if the butcher makes de-
livery, which is not a general prat.
tics. Of course it is not necessary
to employ a professional butcher, but
a man' is required who can do the
!work neatly and well, and cut up
the carcase along the usual luteol,
and in the same way each time. The
butcher provides a 'hook for each
member and hangs thereon the por-
tion for each animal as the anima)
is cut up. ;Each member should have
two meat bags with his' name on,
that one of them may always' be at
the butcher shop ready to receive the
weekly portion. In the case of some
rio:gs each faintly gets only one
piece; in others a good piece of the
hind quarter, and an inferior piece
of the fore quarter, or vice versa; in
stili others a member gets a, boiling
piece, a roast, and a piece of steals
each week.
The various cuts are numbered,and
an accurate record is kept by tl,e
buteler of the quality and wecght of
beef received by eael, mem is'. in this
way It is poseihle to arrange for
each family to receive appro.clmate•
le the same weight of meat and the
same proportion of valuable and
cheap cuts during the summer. Ai
the end of the summer the secretary
of the organization furnishes each
member with a statement of the
year's operations, compiled from the
butcher's records. As no two ani-
mals will have been of the same
weight, small balances will have to
change hands in order to equalize
matters. As a standard price is a1-
ways agreed upon at the !beginning
of they season, say five or six cents
per pound, there are no disputes at
the close. Members who have re-
elevecl more beef than they supplied
pay for the difference at the price
agreed upon ; those who have put
ire more than they have received are
paid in the same way. Yours very
truly, V. A. Clemons, Publication
Clerk,
Bit of Advice by John L. Sullivan.
NERVOUS TROUBLES.
Promptly and Permanently Cured
by Dr. Williams' Pink Pills.
Th,are is no torture more acute and
intolerable than nervousness. A ner-
votes Maroon is in a.etate of c;onetant
irritation hal dee end eleeplessnessi
by night. The sufferer ,starts at
every noise, is chary, depressed, and,
Although in a, eonstan;tlyj exhausted
state, is uliable to sit or lie still.
If you. are nervous or worried or suf-
fer from a combination of langour
and irritation you need a nerve `ton -
ie and Dr. Willtame' Pink Pills are
absolutely; the best thing in the
world for igloo. 'You can only get rid
dl nervotusuess through feeding your
nerves worth rich, red blood, and Dr.
Williams' Pink Pills actually! make
new, blood. There is no doubt about
dais—thousands can testify; to the
blood -making, nerve -restoring qual-
ities of these' pills, Si.iVitus dance
le one of the nioet severe forms of
nervousness, and Mrs. H. 'Hevenor,
elf Gravemharst, Ont., tells how these
pills cured her little blear. She says:
"At the age of eight nryi little iboy
itieis of tees* pills. St. Vitus dance
from whiell he suffered in a se ere
form. H'is nerves. •twitched to such
an extent that Ire wvvae almost help-
less', and had to be conetautiyi watch-
ed. He era,s under several doctors at
different ,times, but they did not help
lain, so I decided to try! Dr. Wil-
liams' Pink Pi11:i, and these bavo
completely cured, trim, and now hole
a sign orf the trouble remains."
fWh.en yiou buy these lulls .always
look at the box and see that the
full name, Ur, Williams' Pink Pills
for Pale Peopile, is printed on the
wrapper, and refuse to take any-
thing else. You can get these pills
from cull medicine dealers or they)
will be pent by mall . et 50 cents a
box, or ex boxcos 'for e.%(ll by'
writing The Dr. Williams M'edieina
Co., 13roclrvillo, Ont. .
A I3OSSUET ANNIVERSARY.
France will celebrate the 200th anni-
versary of the death of Bossuot with an
elaborate flourish. Two statues' of the
great panegyrist will be ereetea soon.
At Dijon and Theater the anniversery
Will be eteeeelally noticed. •
(Boston Record,)
The redoubtable and only John L. is
credited with giving this advice to t
small boys who paid homage to
shrine, not long ago: "Boys, if you w
to get along, do .your work. Wor.
the only thine that makes men
and successful. Don't be like t
whose father wrote to 'the boy
asking where his son slept.
sever the man sent back was:
"We don't know' whe
sleeps atnight; ho ale'
daytimes.e.
Every harsh w
Weight is a