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Zurich Herald, 1915-07-16, Page 6I 1.100441 The Lady of Lancaster Iq Or, Leonora West's Love. CHAPTER XXXVII.-(Cont'd). In short, our, hero was in a mo sullen and intractable mood. heart was sorely wounded for he ha loved Leonora with all the streng. and passion . of a noble nature. II Sorrow for a time completely maste ed hue. He said to •himself that h could not bear to go back now. H must wait a little longer.oW Then came De Vere with his strange` story. Now indeed all was ui ended, thought the hopeless lover. see She was going away, and he would never even see her again, this bright- and, right- e gYd ,soft voiced girl who had stolen i into his heart almost unawares, who • had been so cruel to him, who had so lightly scorned him, and yet whom he loved with all the strong passion 141 of his young manhood. Once or twice De Vere reiterated his advice that he should go home and marry Lady Adele, but Lancaster only laughed miserably in his face, "What, with my heart and soul fell of another woman?"he said, bit- terly. "No, I can not do that much k injustice to beautiful Lady Adele. I respect her too much." e # Go where he would, do what he might, the face he loved was ever befor his fancy. As the time drew near for her departure to America a to strange longing took possession of him. He yearned to see the living of face of the girl once more, before the wild waves of the blue Atlantic divid- ed them forever as widely as if she were in her grave and he in his. He had no longer any bitterness or an- ger toward her in his heart since he had learned of that sweet sorrow hidden in her young breast—a sorrow akin to his own. "I should like to see the man who was so cold and hard that he could" not love tier," he said to himself. "He must be a stock or a stone indeed, Poor little Leonora! 'I will go down to Lancaster and bid her good-bye and god -speed on her homeward way. rd There can be no harm in that. I must to see. her once more, or I shall go mad } with longing for her sweet, fair face and her soft voice. m So in the first heat of sweltering July he went down to Lancaster hr Park,,. intent on sating his restless c1 pain with one last look at the beloved ca face. CHAPTER XXXIX. MUM 'the hands he caught daringly in his. st 1 She looked up at him, and said, with His a catch in her breath: d "I thought you were in London." th "So I was until to -day; but I came is down to bid you good-bye," he an- r- n swered, feasting his . hungry eyea e unrestrainedly on the pale beauty of e her lifted face. "Then you knew that Iwas going away?" she asked. _y rtown. He "Yes; I -saw De Vere in told me," he answered • and a pretty blush crept into her cheeks, and her lashes fell. "And so," he went on, half smiling, "you refused my friend, in spite of all my advice to the can - lo gr a) 10 t1 pt al of el He thought himself' very fortunate is that when he crossed the grounds of Lancaster and entered the house, no io one saw him. , It was just what he e wished. He went straight to the housekeep- iz er's room, and he found Mrs. West ix sitting alone in the little sitting -room, et going over her account -book .with a pen and ink. She rose in some per- " 'turbation at the unexpected sight of the master of Lancaster Park. e "I did not know you • were in the s house, my lord," she said. "I have just entered it," he replied. "Do not let me disturb you, Mrs. t West. • I came to see your niece." "Leonora?" she said, with some surprise. "Oh, dear! I am very parry, but she is not here;" and she I wondered at the sudden paleness that overspread his face. E. "Not here?" he stammered. "Is j she gone, then? I thought—I under- stood that you would go with her to t America." "Oh, yes, so I shall," she answered; "but she is not gone there yet. I did not mean that. She will be here this evening." "Where is she now?" he asked, eagerly, and Mrs. West replied: "She has gone over to the Abbey ruins to make a sketch this morning." "Thank you," he said, and hurried out of the robin, with such precipit- ancy that the good soul stared after him, in amazement and consternation. "Dear me! what has that poor' child done now?" she thought, nervously. "It is a pity she ever came to Lan- caster. Park. She has but a sorry time of it here. I almost wish she had accepted Lieutenant De Vere. It would have been such a grand match for her, and she is too bright and pretty to remain in my station of life,. I wonder what Lord Lancaster can want with her. Is he going to scold her for anything she has done ?" But while she propounded these un- easy questions to herself, our hero was striding across the park and lanes. end fields toward the Abbey ruins, every other thought swallowed up in the intense longing to see Leonora again. His heart beat heavily as he came in sight of her, at last, sitting among the green graves, as he had 'Keen her before, but not sketching,. busily now, for her drawing mater- ials lay beside her on the grass, and her head was bowed on her arm, her. face hidden from sight on her black sleeve. "Poor child!" he thought, coinpas- sionately; "she has a sorrow to grieve over as well as Ip" and he stepped softly, almost fearing to intrude upon the sacredness of her grief, yet loath to turn back again, for something drew hint irresistibly to her side. The sof.', echo of his footstep in the grass startled her. She looked up quickly with a low cry. Ide saw tears upon her face, and her rosy lips were quivering like a child's, "Leonora!" he cried, and knelt down impulsively by her side. She was ate taken by surprise for a moment that she forget to draw away s trary?" She pulled her hands suddenly away. "Yes, I refused him. Was it worth my while," with a stinging scorn in her voice, "to sell my body and soul for paltry gold?" "No; you were right not to give the hand while your heart was an- other's," he said, bending down to look into her face that suddenly grew burning crimson as she cried out, sharply: "Why do you say that? How dare you? Has Lieutenant De Vere told you "Yes, he has told me that you would not marry him because you loved an- other. He is a thrice happy man, who ever he may be, Leonora. How much I envy him I need not say," he said, earnestly, carried away by the pas- sion that filled him. She looked at him with her gray - blue eyes full of wonder. "Your Lady Adela's intended hus- band!" she said, bitterly. "I am not her intended husband," he answered. "Do you think I am less noble than you, Leonora? that I could wrong any one by giving my hand without my heart? No, I do not love Lady Adele., and I can never be her husband. Do you know what I was doing up in London, child?" "How should I know?" she answer- ed. "Well, I was trying to exchange into a regiment that is en route for India. I am going to throw over the twenty thousand a year and run away from England and my pain." - "You are ?" she said, drawing a long breath and gazing at him with dilated, wondering eyes. "But, why, Lord Lancaster?" "Can you ask me why?" he asked, bitterly. "Yes, because I can not understand at all why you are going to India. What pain is it you are running away from ?" He started and looked at her keen- ly. Was it possible that she did not guess? Had she misunderstood him all along? His heart beat with a sudden hope. "I am fleeing from that misery that the poet has put into immortal dog- gerel," he said. "Have you never heara of it, Leonora? Thepain which is "Of all the pains the greatest pain To love and not be loved again?' " She looked at him with •a new, strange light in her soft eyes that made his heart beat tumultuously. "Yes, I have heard of it," she said; "but I did not know that you were a victim to its pangs. Who is it that you love, Lord Lancaster ?" Is it possible you do not know?" he asked; and then he saw that her eyes were shining with hope, and -her whole graceful form trembling. He took the small hands again into his, and she did not offer to take them away. "I will make a compact with you, Leonora," he said. "If I tell you whom I love, will you then tell me to whom, you have given your heart?" "Yes,.1 will tell you" she replied,. with a soft, sweet laugh. "Listen then," he said. "I:: have been in love with you, Leonora, ever since that first day I saw you in New York." "And I with you," she answered, glowing with happy blushes. "My darling!" he cried, and caught her in his arms and pressed her to his beating heart. "Then why have you been so cruel to me all the time?" "Because X thought you were going to marry Lady Adele,and I was so jealous and unhappy that. I misunder- stood you all the while," Leonora con- fessed, with shy frankness. CHAPTER XL. "Lady Lancaster will be very an- gry with us, will she not?" asked Leonora, lifting her head from his breast, where it had been resting a few silent, happy moments. "I have no doubt she will," he re- plied, with supreme indifference to his aunt's wrath. "She will not give you any of her money, X suppose?" pursued the girl. "No, not a penny, I am sure. But we can do without it can vire not love?" he asked, fondly. "But will you never regret that you chose me instead of Lady Adel) and your aunt's fortune? Can you bear poverty for my sake?" "I shall never regret anything, and for the rest I shall never know that X am poor. Having you, my darling; I shat always deem myself rich," he answered, fondly caressing her. "And you will never be ashamed of me?" anxiously. "Never, my darling;" ai l,.iuv U el.le 1 101, le g 1odl1, 0, t t . G.i,,rillstrlrrt' *rotten lee. "Nor of poor .trued West who is only tt" he houselc eeper zit Lancaster Then indeed he winced, but only for a moment, and he answered, bravely: "She belongs to you, Leonora, and she is, besides a good and worthy woman. I shall not be ashamed of her, but she must not serve at the Park any more; she shall be raised to a position befitting the aunt of the future Lady Lancaster." "She will leave the Park tomor- row, We are going to London for a week, then we sail for New York," said Leonora. "Is my bride going to leave me so soon?" he whispered, fondly. "Yes; but she will comeback when you come to New. York for her," an- severed Leonora, with a blush and a smile: :, "That will be in a very. 'short while then. But why go at all, darling? Couldn't we be married right away?" "Without my trousseau? No, :sir, thank you. Besides, my aunt .and 1 have some business to attend to in New York, and I want her to see my native v land and appreciate it. "When may ome after you, then, my darling? In September?" "Oh, dear, no!" "October ?" "No, indeed that is, I will • ask Aunt West," remurely. "I shall not wait a day longer than October, miss. Do you hear that?" he says, laughing, but in earnest,, for he says to himself, thoughtfully, "The darling has no one but Mrs. West to take are of her, and the sooner she is married and settled, the better for her." "You begin to play the tyrant soon," laughs the happy betrothed, "In revenge for the way' yeti have treated me all this while," he re- plies. ' And then he adds, with a sterner light in his handsome blue eyes: "I am going to take you home now, Leonora, and presentyou to Lady Lancaster as my promised wife, Are you willing, my darling?" "I have no objection," she answer- ed, for Leonora, being but human, thought she would rather enjoy this triumph over her enemy. So they'' went back to the house, and Lancaster led his love to the li- brary, where one of the servants had told him Lady Lancaster was sitting with Mrs. West, going over the house- keeping books of the latter. They opened the door and entered. My lady stared at the pair in horror for a moment, then she rose majestic- ally to her feet and struck her gold- headed cane :upon the floor with a re- sounding thump. "So you are come home at last!" she cried. "But what does this mean? Why have you brought this, imper- tinent minx into my presence ?" "Perhaps you will speak more re- spectfully of Miss West when I tell you that she is my promised wife, and the future Lady of Lancaster," her nephew answered, sternly. "The Lady of Lancaster! - What! do you mean that you have sacrificed all your future prospects for this low -born and penniless girl?". cried my lady, growing purple in the face and actually foaming at the lips with fury. "I have. sacrificed nothing, and I have secured my future happiness by my betrothal," Lord Lancaster an- swered, proudly. The old lady stared at him speech- less with rage for a . few seconds, then she struck her caneviolently upon the"floor.again, and burst out with concentrated wrath: "Then hear me, you blind, besotted fool! You think you have played me a fine trick, but I'll have my revenge, be sure of that! Not a dollar of my money shall ever go to you! I will leave it all to the next of kin. And you, Clive Lancaster, may go on earn - frig your beggarly pittance in the army, and your: wife may take in $ol- diets' washing and your children starve or beg, 'but I will, neve} throw you a crust to keep you from starving nor a rag to keep you from freezing!' An indignant retort rose to the young mien's lips, but before he could speak Leonora's sweet, clear voice rang out upon the silence) "I hope, Lady Lancaster, that nei- ther myself, my husband, nor my children may be reduced o the djre necessity you anticipate. shall . per- suade Captain Lancaster to leave the army and live at Lancaster Park. Ile can well afford to do so without your money, for I am as rich as you are." "Oh, Leonoi-a!" cried her aunt, dis- mayed. "Yes, dear aunt," pried the girl, dauntlessly, "I. am not the 'poor, de- pendent girl you and every one else thought me. My father made his for- tune in California. He was very wealthy, and he left me his whole fortune, with the exception of a leg- acy to yourself that will keep you in luxury all your life." "But why did you let us think that you were poor, my dear?" exclaimed the good soul. Leonora laughed gayly, in spite of her enemy's angry, wondering face. "I did not exactly let, you," she said. "You see, you all took it • for granted, and I did not contradict it, for," with a shy glance into her lov- er's face, I wanted to see if any one would love 'me for myself alone, and I am richly rewarded; for "'He does not lode me formy birth, Nor for my lands so broad and He lovesfair; me for .my own true worth, And that is- well—"' Lady Lancastercould have killed her for her brilliant triumph, but she was powerless to do anything but carry out her angry threats, so she retired from the scene and went to her dower house, where she actually adopted a scoin of the house of Lan- caster and made him the heir to her wealth; but this lad was too young to marry the earl's daughter, so the dowager never had that honor in the family. But her spleen and venom passed harmlessly and unheeded over the heads of Lord Lancaster and his fair Leonora, for, in the far-famed lan- guage of the story -book, "they were married and live happily ever after- ward." - THE END. `I MOTHER OF NEARLY 900. A Remarkable Houghton Goose. Mr, William Haugh, Close Green, Houghton, near Carlisle, has just lost by deathia goose at the well authen- cated age of 56 years. The goose, whose history was well known to the inhabitants of Hough- ton and oughton.:and. surrounding villages, was bred by Mr. Haugh's mother, who formerly resided at Close Green, and at the time of Mrs. Haugh's death twenty years ago, the goose, which. was . named "Jennie," was 36 years of age. .On the death of Mrs. Haugh the goose, which was a great pet, be- came the property of Mr. William Haugh, in whose hands it has been during the whole of the 20 • years' since. The age . of the bird is thus clearly established as being, as al- ready stated, 56 years. In addition to its extraordinary longevity, the bird had also establish- ed a remarkable breeding record. During the twenty years she has been the property of Mr. William Haugh, she , has regularly hatched. 'at each of her 'two setting's during the ;FRENCH WOMAN AVIATOR WAS CHASED BY A TAUBE AIRSHIP gleno Dutricu Is probably the only woman •aviator -tvlio has pau'ticipnt. ed in the present war. Thr aeroplane was chased in by, a Geratan Taube. This soman took part in the aerial defence of•Paarlls, but etre is now ,in the United States. sugar Home Jam -Makers This hint may Save your Jam o No matter how fresh your berries, nor how thoroughly the jam is cooked, nor how clean the jars are, preserves aro absolutely sure to spoil if the sugar used contains organic matter, impurities—tend many sugars do= Home jam makers..should profit by the experience of others and insist on being supplied with Extra Granulated Sugar which: has always, and for many years, given satisfaction. It tests over 99.99 per cent pure and is refined exclum sively from cane sugar.— avoidn mistakes andaled asspackages a absolute cleanliness and correct weights -2 Ib. and 6 Ib. cartons; 10. 20, 25 and 10011a. bags, and your choice of three sizes of grain; fine, medium, orcoarse. —Any good dealer can ffllyourorder. ST. LAWRENCE SUGAR REFINERIES, LIMITED, Montreal. year from nine to twelve goslings. At her last setting last Summer "Jen- nie" produced eight eggs. Two of these were taken from her for pre- sentation to interested friends, and she successfully hatched every one of the remaining six. The whole of these lived and thrived, and,. fed with a view to the Christmas table require- meets, they were sold,' -at that time in Carlisle market—birds ranging from 151b. to 1?lb. •in weight—at 9d. per lb. Althou h "Jennie g was not a big goose, her eggs were seldom unfertile and her progeny invariably "scaled" well. Taking, therefore, her -rear- ing of goslings at the modest average of 16 per year, in her two settings during that period, and assuming that she commenced breeding in the usual course in her second year, "Jennie" must in her 55 breeding years •have mothered something like 860 goslings. The remarkably longlife of `.'Jennie" is partly attributed to the fact that her mother was of a' Spanish variety, which are supposed to live longer than English breeds of geese. The latter, however, are seldom allowed to demonstrate their tenacity of race, seeing that as soon as they begin to exhibit signs of a diminished interest in their "clocking" they are generally plucked for the market. "Some people said that when 'Jen- nie' died," rehnarked the present Mrs. Haugh to a "Cumberland News" re- presentative, "that we should send her to Tullis House, but as she was born on the place we thought she should remain on the place and we buried her in the orchard." It is interesting to note `that when "Jennie" attained her jubilee six years ago, her picture was painted by Mr. David Ingles, a Selkirk • artist, and nephew of Mr. W. 13. Creighton, of Scotland Road, Stanwix, in whose possession the painting still remains: Coining Home to Roost. Bill the Castaway—tor the love of Mike, what kind of a fish is that? Dick the Ditto --It's the big one you used to lie so, =oh about. The one that always got away, 13111. Russia's population increases at e, rate of about three millions a year. 'Princess Mary receives over three hundred letters a day, of which she answers a very fair proportion oweeseenee teeeleee► ent•ciao..eleee On thc Farm Drag the Roads. "When the smiles of spring appear Drag the roads; When the summer time is here, Drag the roads; When the corn is in the ear, In the winter cold and drear, Every season of the year, Drag the roads. "When you've nothing else to do, Drag the roads; If but for an hour or tem, Drag the roads;. It will :keep them good as new; With. a purpose firm and true: - Fall in line; it's up to you— Drag the roads. Caring for the Little Calves. Everybody has a way of doing things and this is my way of taking care of the calves, • I have ten good cows which I raised myself, and I found out that to raise good cows you mustbegin at the be- ginning. Nogood results will come from a half-starved, stunted calf. I let the calf suck the cow the first two days. It is better . for him -and the mother; too, and the calf is more apt to get all the milk than I would be, thus getting it out of the cow's bag and into the calf's stomach where it • should be, with less trouble and better results. At the end of this time I milk the cow and feed the calf; tie the calf where it cannot see its mother, and if the weather is cold I wrap some- . thing round her when the barn doors are open. Never allow a calf to shiver if you want it to keep well. For the first two weeks I feed new milk as soon as milked, and then .I begin to mix in separated milk by degrees, adding at first a third, then a half and when a month old I give all separated and take care to have it warm. Buckwheat shorts and bran are good, but never put them in the milk. Have a small box nailed in a conveni- ent place on the manger or side of the wall and fill with dry. feed. The calf will soon learn to help itself. When six weeks old `put clover hay within reach; this will aid the diges- tion and increase growth. If eggs are plenty break one or two in the milk, and you will be sur- prised at its sleekness.' Flies •are the worst things to stunt the growth of calves as they take so much blood, and the young animals should be protected from the pests. I tried spraying last summer with fair results, but I did not depend en- tirely upon this. I put my calves in the barn every afternoon during the warmest weather and gave them hay. Another thing that stunts the growing heifer is dehorning. I avoid this by rubbing on caustic potash when the horns first start, first clip- ping away the.: hair. It will smart for a while but that is all and no horn will ever. grow. My heifers usually come in when 2% or three years ' old and make ex- cellent cows, and this is how 'I raise "them.—N.A.B. Stop and • Think First. Before buying new machinery, it is well to' consider the following ques tions: Will the use of the new machine give me -a larger net return from the Crops on which it is used? • Will the new machine reduce the demand for man labor? Where a machine is required only a few days each year, can it not be rented more cheaply than purchased? Will the nioney to be invested re- turn more in some other way? 'Has the machine been thoroughly. tried by others and found. satisfac- tory. ;^ He Struck at That. Mike was employed as handyman at a big ship -building yard in the North of England. On him fell most of the disagreeable jobs,. and he was much in request for lifting the heavi- est weights. On the eve of a recent launch, when the huge vessel was standing ready on the stocks for the morrow's great event, Mike went to"the foreman and demanded hi"s pay. "What for ?" asked his foreman, in astonishnnent. "Surely you're not thinking of leaving us ?" "'Deed, and I ale,". replied Mike sourly. "Since I've been here a I've done some heavy lifting, but" -and he pointed first . to the finished ship, and then to the barricade on the bank of the river --"I'm hanged if I'm go- ing to lift that thing over the fence to -morrow." . New Zealand's annual revenue is equal to £10 per head of her pepilia- tion; China's annual revenue is equal to 2s. per head, . 'Ship's Officer --Oh, there goes eight bells; excuse Me, it's my watch be- low. Old Lady---Ciratiousl Fancy.. your watch striking as loud as that!