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!