The Gazette, 1893-08-24, Page 6tet
bete
•
NOT
ISELY, BUT T00 WELL
C lAPPER XXVII.—(CONTINi eD)
" fly heart seemed to stand still.
is ,that
I grew very calm and cold
' Whowoman, Cyril ?' I asked. Ile stared at me
Inge one in a dream, and turned the boat
beck without a word and rowed me t) the
hotel. Then he lei me up one of the quiet
aver walks, and standing there before ane
2oid ane the whole sickening, miserable tale.
There may have been extenuation in it. I
and
anonefm I was
d cruel,gI suppose. He called
andant of life
of man,
me so. I could only cling ' hoone t mattered— hap
she had been his wife.
ine the folly, the caprice, the infatuation
that had chained his hot youth and held
him powerless now ? What ir attered to
me anything, anything, save that he was
lost to me, that my idol was shattered, my
heart was broken. 'You told me yon had
loved no other woman as yon loved me,' I
said scornfully ; ` and all the time, all the
time, you have given her the surest, truest
proof of love a man can give. Pity 1 No.
I have no pity! You made your choice, you
must abide by it. If you were free this
hour I would not marry you now. You have
deceived me. Your love was a pretence ;
perhaps you call it also such names as you
call hers. Go to ber, your wife; I never will
voluntarily look upon you face again.' Oh,
Lauraine, was I cruel, was I unjust? God
knows. Oh, the bitterness, the agony, the
shame of that night. I felt as if I hated
him in the new sharp fever of jealousy that
had come to my heart. I hated to think he
had belonged to another, held her to his
heart, kissed her, loved or seemed to love
first girl who=has told me the same, nor
will you be ,the last. The mothers of Society
do it all few the best, doubtless. Love seems.
such apoor, contemptible thing in their eyes
in comparison with—settlements. Oh, yes !
that is so always. .ps they forget their
own youth ; _one doe., they say, when one
outlives romance. And I suppose an
Establishment' is better than poetry any
day. They are wise, after all. Year after
year the season has it martyrs. Girls are
brought out and introduced with no higher
aim or object set before them than a
great ` marriage. Fashion and Society ex-
pect it. I suppose it is what they were born
for ! Thank God ! my parents were neither
ambitious nor mercenary. Perhaps I too
might have been over -persuaded. I don't
think it likely. Still—"
She hesitates and looks compassionately
at Lauraine's sad face. "You must try
and be brave, dear, and bear your life as it
is. Regrets. repining, sorrowing won't
make it any better._ You say you are weak
but I don't think you are so weak as all
that. And there is one thing I have want-
ed to say to you of late. You will pardon
me if it seems intrdsive. But, do you know
you are behaving very coldly, and, I think,
unwisely, towards your husband ? You
leave him alone, to other temptations
that your presence would restrain. All
these months you have not seen him, you
scarcely even write with more warmth or
interest than you do to your steward ; and,
after all, he is your husband. Nothing can
alter that; and he loved you very dearly,
and no doubt he does still. Can yon not see
that your duty to him demands even
more than the sacrifice you have al
•
ber. My whole nature seemed to change._ read made? I know it is hard, terribly
I could only think he -had deceived me, ! hard.y You saythere is no sympathy, no
whether willingly or mercifully did not m comprehension between you,, and yaur
matter. Love, youth, joy, hope, all seemed i heart is aching with this forbidden love,
to die out of my heart: Nothing he said and he must seem in a way hateful ; but
you- were not honest with him quite, if you
promised to marry him, and yet held back
your heart. You see what I mean, do you
leans carelessly back on his seat, tilting it
to an angle that threatens its upset and
his own. Perhaps it is that fact, remind..
ing her so of a trick of Keith's, that makes
Lauraine look a second time. Her heart
gives a• wild throb, she feels cold and sick
with a sudden shame.
She sees 'it is Keith himself. . .
Just as they pass, the tilted chair is -pull-
ed back to its level with a ringing laugh.
"I' -.declare -to you it is impossible to
speak when you will not look," says a shrill
French voice.
His eyes go straight to that passing
figure. He starts, and his face grows
darkly red. 'Their eyes meet for a second's
space. In hers is pained rebuke, in his
shame.
There is no word no sign of recognition.
But all the night seems full of dizzy pain to
Keith.
"It is very annoying," murmurs Lady
Jean the next morning, as she sits at the
breakfast -table. " Why could they not
have, gone somewhere else ?"
"W hat is annoying?" questions Lauraine,
looking up from her chicken cutlet s at the
clouded, handsome face opposite.
"Why, those Americans ; one meets them
everywhere 1 Hortense tells me they ar-
rived last night—that Woollffe woman, you
know, and her niece ; and they have the
next rooms to mine ; and, of course, we will
meet thein everywhere ; and oh! I am so
sick of them, you can't imagine 1"
"Mrs. Woollffe is a very kind-hearted
woman," murmurs Lauraine. She is pale
and Ianguid, and her eyes have a weary,
sleepless look in them that tells of many
wakefulness.
Slie'and Lady Jean are alone, it being he chose the world, and I; solitude. I shout
seemed to soften me. I would not listen,
arould not yield, I would not pity. He lett
me and I never saw him again. The next
news I had was that he had gone abroad on, e"
foreign service. I have seen his name from not Yes, Lauraine says, faintly, "
I see."
time tod time, but of his life, the life I once i "Duty demands much, but it also repays
so fondly hoped tos share,thI know nothing."much, " continues Lady Etwynde, gently.
Lau rine touches the I think,"ling hands. "Heaven knows I am not fit to preach to
;''You ntlwere hard on him, I thoughthher she says, you ; but in the world, as we know it, baur-
hatly, "I suppose he dead—
that he was free. ' eine, there are so many faithless wives, so
divided househ ,
" Is there any Corriere pensee ?"she thinks.
" Is she less blind than we imagine?"
" I can't imagine a woman getting en-
thusiastic
n
thusiastic about a woman," she says, coolly.
" Seems unnatural." Of course, I have no
doubt the msthete is very charming to
those who can appreciate her. I' never
could."
I suppose not. I should scarcely think
you had mhch in common," answers Laur-
sine, dryly.
" Still," says Lady Jean, rising carelessly
from the table, " it was a little odd and
unnatural that you should go away ;with
her, and leave your poor husband to himself.
If he hadn't been one of the most good-
natured men--"
"° Pardon me," interrupts Lauraine, very
coldly, " I would rather not discuss my
husband with anybody. You may rest as-
sured I had his full sanction for m_y ` un-
natural' conduct. And, if you know any-
thing of a mother's feelings at all, you
might suppose that I scarcely felt inclined
for the gaieties and frivolties of London life
after so sad a trial."
" Ah, yes ; I forgot—the poor little
angel," murmurs Lady Jean, her eyelids
drooping to hide the angry flash in her.
black eyes. " But—I may be wrong—I
don't know, only to me it always seemed
that a wife's first duty was to her hus-
band."
`• Pra,y has my husband been complain-
ing of me? inquires Lauraine, haughtily.
Lady Jean smiles involuntarily. "oI
dear, no, of course not. I only said--
" I quite understand," says Lauraine.
" Perhaps I was selfish in my grief. I
don't know. I had not meant to be ; but
" He said so," answers Lady Etwynde.
" Oh, yes, and doubtless he believed it.
he could not have dared to offer such an in-
sult to me, or my family. But what I
re enter' was that_he should have kept the
;tory back, that he should have pretended
that I was his first, his only love, and all
the time she had been his wife. I could not
forgive that!"
" But, my dear," says Lauraine gently,
" you may have had his first, real love. The
ether was but a youthful folly, a hot-headed
intetuation. Does any man come to us .with.ith•
his heart pure and free ? Few, I think, if
any. We cannot judge them by ourselves.
that is why so many .- women wreck their
lives. They expect too much. o man ever
could be what a girl's pule dreams would mars Lady Etwynde, and she kisses her on
make bins. But it is so hard for her to be- the brow.
lieve that."
" 1 know it now," answers Lady Et-
wynde. " I have learnt my lesson in bitter- CHAPTER XVIII.
THE WAYS OF THE WORLD.
many olds. Oh my ear,
don't you add to the number 1 You have
many enemies of whom you know nothing,
and they would gladly seize your name,
and smirch its purity with scandals and
whispers, and evil words. I want you to be
brave, and face them all, and live out your
life nobly and well. I know I am bidding
you do a hard thing; but it is right, and I
am sure you see it,
Lauraine bends her head down wearily,
and lays it on her friend's shoulder. She
feels spent, tired, exhausted. The tears
throng to her eyes, her heart aches with
dull and cease•ess pain.
" I do see it 1" she half sobs. " I will
try."
" May Heaven give you strength !" mur-
Holding the hand in the water,it appears
to have become pure silver,and several men
and boys jump in, half produced,
as theyare,re,,
for us to see the effect
h is
that their bodies are covered with a coating
of silver. From which
From the small landing place
these, people leap into the water, there is a
passage way, now closed, that once led up
to one of the villas built by Tiberius upon
the island.
We only remain fifteen minutes in the
Grotto for the sea is rising all the while and
it is quite an exciting.experience to shoot
through the entrance without getting a wet-
ting. The boatmen are very skillful- and
they know just how long to wait for a wave
to retire and to go along with it success-
fully
hoursof
too early for the other women, too late for
the men.
" Kind-hearted 1" echoes Lady Jean.
:. My -dear, so is our greengrocer's wife, or
our dressmaker, for all we know ; but that
is no reason why we should receive them in
our drawing -rooms. Now, I have done my
best to avoid this dreadful woman for two
seasonse and here she is, next door to me!"
" You: are not bound to associate with her,
if you acre so exclusive," says Lauraine, a
little contemptuously. " But there are
many women received in society who have
not half the honesty and sterling worth of
Mrs. Bradshaw Woollffe."
" 0£ course," laughs Lady Jean, with
unfeigned amusement ; " but honesty and
sterling worth are rather humdrum things,
don't you think ? And she is so vulgar 1"
"That should be a recommendation, I
fancy," says Lauraine. "Almost everyone
is vulgar nowadays."
"Ah, but there is a distinction ! When a
woman is really well born, and has an -es-
tablished position, she may do what she
likes. It is these mushroom millionaires,
these nouveaux riches, with their lined
pockets and their `piles,' made out of every
imaginable horror, adulerating, swindling,
coal -mining, shoe -blacking, heaven only
knows what, they are so odious and yet so
formidable a power ! They push, they
struggle, they scheme, they spend their
money like water, they have a craze for
society, the very highest, the very best.
They take our snubs and insults,and flatter
and fawn just the same only for a card in
their halls, a half-hour passage through
their drawing -roams, the honour and glory
of a `name' to figure in a society journal as
one of their guests. Faugh 1 it is sicken-
ing 1"
"But the society who eats and drinks
and amuses itself at their expense is alone
to blame," says Lauraine, calmly. "If
people had sufficient dignity ,and self-re-
spect to oppose such innovations, to keep
these people at a distance, they could not
force themselves in as they do."
uess and grief. But I think it has done me
good. I have forgiven him long ago. I shall
never see him again to tell him so, I sup-
pose ; perhaps he woul 1 not even care to hear
it. But I am happier since I could pardon
and pity bis weakness, only—my Bayard
he could never be again !" T
" And of her ? Do you know anything quaintances are at the Badischer Hof, and
about her fate ?" asks Lauraine, forgetful her husband meets her at the station. Lady
of her own sorrows in this new interest. Etwynde has returned to iii:gland.
" I heardshe was dead. She was a vile, " You are not looking well," says Sir
crus woman. oman He divorced her afterwards Francis. " And how thin you have be -
It seems strange and painful to Lauraine
to go back to the gaiety and brilliance of
Baden after the quiet and rest of pretty,
picturesque little Bingen.
A 1aree party of her old friends and ac -
but what was that to me ? What can any- come."
t, ing tome now _that —his life ?"weather tries me so," she answers ; and then
There comes a long silence. The thoughts they enter their carriage and drive to the
of both are busy with sad memories. As hotel in the cool, sweet September twilight.
Lauraine looks at Lady Etwynde's:face she j Lauraine forces herself to talk, to try and scally.
Sees it is full of pain, but her eyes have a appear interested in the forthcoming race ; "If you mean do I know her one day and
dreamy book, as the eyes of one who sees but the sense of strangeness produced by and cut her the next, do I go to her balls I �,es like the fragrance that wanders in fresh-
® f g !long absence and utter want of sympathy ness
h i
When d one
h beth t concerns his name " I have not been very strong ; this hot
not be so unwise again, rest assared.
"What does she mean ?" says Lady Jean
to herself, uncomfortably. And how strange
she looked. Surely, surely, she cannot sus-
pect ! "
An hour afterwards she is strolling with
Sir Francis through the grounds of the
KursaaL
"Mon cher," she says, with a little
mocking laugh, " I do believe your wife is
jealous. It is very amusing, but you had
better be careful all the same. I object to
be one in a chronique scandaleuse,"
" Lauraine jealous?" exclaims Sir Francis.
"What put that idea in your head ?"
MISSILES FROM THE HEAVENS.
Billions of Them Fall, But Comparative-
ly Few Bech the Earth,
Only the other dayan account was given
of a meteorite which fell near Beaver
Creek,, Washington. It was reported as
bursting with several sharp reports in
quick succession, the first explosion being
the loudest. The noise was heard twenty-
five
wentyfive miles away and was mistaken for thun-
dere
or a blast of dynamite. Following
reports was a buzzing sound. Several
fragments of the missile from the sky were
picked up.
" It is a mistake to supposthat
meteorites burst, in the proper sense of the
word," says a scientist. " But it often
happens that they are broken to pieces on
striking the atmosphere of the earth. This
may seem surprising, but let me call your
attention to an analogy. Strike the sur-
face of water with your fist, and, though a
fluid, the resistance it opposes to the blow
seems almost as strong as if it were solid.
Now, the meteorite is moving at a tre-
mendous rate of speed. If small, it is set
on fire in an instant by the friction of the
air, and after glowing for a moment bright-
ly, is consumed.
" On any night this summer you will see
` shooting stars' now and then. They are
meteorites, which, on coming into contact
with the earth's atmosphere, are set afire.
Thi; is not surprising, inasmuch as they
approach the planet on which we live at a
speed which often attains forty-four miles
a second. By causing the destruction of
meteorites the atmosphere serves as a pro-
tection for people on the globe, who would
otherwise be pelted by such missiles to a
dangerous extent. It is estimated that
not less than 10,000,000 of them, big enough
to be visible to the naked eye, strike the
earth every twenty-four hours.
" By contact with thisplanet the meteor-
ites are
raised temperature
reaches from 3,000,000 to 4,000,000 degrees
—high enough to consume the hardest
known substance almost instantly. Thus
only those of large size reach the earth
before being entirely burnt up. The greatest
number of such bodies can be seen just
before daybreak, because by that time we
are on the front side of the globe as it moves
through space. The elevation at which
most of them are visiblehas been found to be
between forty -five -and eighty miles, very
few being seen at a greater height than 100
miles.
" It is believed by most astronomers that
some very large meteors have entered our
atmosphere and have passed out into space
agian, their great momentum being sufficient
to take them away from the earth's attrac-
tion. What these flying bodies are is a
question that has been much disputed, but
it is considered most likely that they are
the debris of broken -up comets. In one
recent instance the correctness of this
theory has found striking proof. That was
the case of the comet of Bide. It was dis-
covered in 1827, and was again observed in
1832, 1845, and 1852. In 184-5 it had split
into two parts, and in 1872 it failed to
appear when and where it should have
done. Evidently it had been smashed up,
and prediction was made that there would
be a great meteoric shower composed of the
the remains of the lost comet. This predic-
tion was fulfilled. -
"Certain groups of meteors move in ellip-
tical orbits around the sun. Occasionally,
the earth passes through their clusters
producing what are known as meteoric
showers. S'ich showers occur annually from
the 9th to the 12th of August, and there is
a similar display in November once every
thirty-three years. The stream of the.
August meteors is estimated to be from 5,-
000,000 to 10,000,000 miles thick. The
earth, though traveling with a velocity of
2,000,000 miles a day, is immersed in it for
several days.
" The fall of meteorites to the earth is
sometimes accompanied by a great display
of light, occasionally illuminating an area
of many thousand -square miles. When
such an event occurs at night, and by loud
detonations,so great in some instances as to
shake houses and frighten men and animals,
the explosions are caused by the break-
ing up of the meteor. Ordinarily
you will 'find that sach meteoric
bodies are- coated on the outside with a
black substances, which is the effect merely
of tnsion of the superficial material by great
heat. A piece of Biela's comet was actually
picked up in Mexico in 1872 at the time of
the shower of its remains. . Naturally it is
considered interesting.
"Such great interest is taken in meteor-
ites that all ot- those collectedhve been
carefully catalogued. They are mostly
composed of iron,with usually a percentage --
of nickel and cobalt, and sometimes copper
and tin. It is customary to saw them into
slices, which is a laborious process, for
sale or exchange among museums. Some-
times the slices are prettily polished, or the
cut surfaces are etched with acid so as to
expose the crystalline structure. Thin -
structure is in no two such bodies exactly the
same, and the differences are thought well
worth studying. Attempts have been made•.
to counterfeit meteorites, because they are
so valuable, but without success."
"She herself," answers Lady Jean. "She
says for the future she will not be so neglect-
ful of you. She is afraid she left you too
much alone. Is not that charming news ?
Does it not arouse very sweet emotions ? It
ought to."
Dont talk folly,Lady Jean," mutters Sir
Francis, savagely. "You know, or ought to
know, how much I care for Lauraine. A
poor, weak, milk -and -water creature. Hea-
vens ! how could I have ever fancied myself
in love with her ?"
" But you were, you know," says Lady
Jean, calmly. " Only, like all men, you
deny it when your fickle fancy changes. It
is always the last who -is the only real
love."
" 1 know well enough who is my real
love, last or first,"he says hoarsely ; and
his eyes flash bold, ardent admiration at
her, under the drooping foliage of the trees.
" Hush !" she Whispers, rebukingly, and
with a� w>teningegiance around. " You must
not say such words in public 1"
(item comereuee.)
"But they are always so abominably
rich," laughs Lady Jean. "That excuses
so much, you see; and the^, they let Kis treat
them pretty much as we please. It is a
case of get all you want, give' what you
like."
"To me that always seems a very mean
doctrine," says Lauraine, gravely.
"Da you treat Mrs. Bradshaw Woollffe
as an equal, then ?" asks Lady Jean, iron•
-
A Lasting Memorial-
Up
soars
from the the ear h to ew int home ie n t
sun,
So let rre steal reniembered by what Ihaand ve done.
My name and my place and my tomb all for-
gotten.
The brief space of time well and patiently
run,
So let me pass away. peacefully, silently,
Only remembered by what I have done.
Gladly away from this toil would Ihasten,
Up to the crown that for me has been won,
UOnllyuremembht of ere.•i by what I have doman in rewards or in ne.
e
Up and away, like the odours of sunset,
That sweeten the twilight as evening comes
on;
So be my life—a thing felt but not noticed,
And but remembered by what I have done.
and be blind when we pass in the Row, I
must say—no. She comes to my oese,
was extremely in
in Rome, and I never forgetkindness.
to acknowledge,
but I should be sorry to hurt her
because oft at. notocon-
sider ever affect her own dignity
behaviour tothose whim
is her inferiors.For my part
consistent.If we receive suchpeople on
their wealth,we takethem at
•
smile on them one minute sad insult them
" You were always peculiar," says Lady
the flowers that it came from are
closea g go to hers. She t ly k d to me So would I be to gone,
world's weary dwellers
&lowly. " A woman who loves must forget itself felt again dna again. She Only remembered by what I done.
herself in that love, and I, I thought too when she finds herself alone in her own very y g I need not be missed, if my life; has been bear -
much of my wounded pride, my lost ideal. room. But with Lady letwynde's words is not lad lik , I k 1 d e
Btt I have never held a thought of love for ringing in her ears, with her new resolve ing .
any other man. The lips - that he kissed firm and close to her heart, she will not feelings h I d (As itssummerand autumn move silently
were his first, they Will be his for ever. I listen to whispers of distaste and discontent. aider a lady The bloom, and the fruit, and the seed of its
have never forgotten ; and now I am thirty She enters more into the business of her b her h society season ;
coon I like to I shall still be remembered by what I have
years old, and my parents, as you know, toilette than she has done since her child's y done.
are dead, and I live alone, and am looked death. She astonishes her maid by her crit- be p 1
ace tuitt of t k Needs there the praise of love w ritt en record
upon ass marvel --of eccentricity; and have icalobjec*ions. W hen she descendsshe looks their own valuation. We have no right to The name and the epitaph graved on the
my school of apostles and fool them to the like the Lauraine of old. Her cheeks are stone . top of their bent. Sometimes life seems a flushed with excitement, her eyes burn with The things we have'lived for, let them be our
'horrible travesty of all that is dignified and feverish brilliancy. Her soft, snowy robes the next."
me sweet vision afar off.
" I was wrong, I suppose, ' she says, with each other's tastes and pursuits is
makes
pure, and sometimes a jest that one laughs seem
at and forgets. But no one knows me es I young, more pathetic. The first person to
Jean, with Borne asperity. "I suppose that
.
really'am, save you, Lauraine. -To ..most greet her is the Lady Jean—Lady Jean . comes of high principles and poetic fancies.
people I suppose I hardly seem a woman. handsomer, if a little louder and stouter f I always go where I Gari be amused, myself.
Bat my true self and my lost love live a 'ife than ever, - arrayed in a wonderful Louis It is the best thing to do after all."
an'rt, a life of •l ream4,sad hut yetbeautiful. Quatorze costume, with . glittering steel " To amuse oneself ?" questions Lauraine.
A life that feeds itself on memories, memor- button and ornaments. Consistent with "And afterwards ?"
ies that are recalled by the colours of every her new role, Lauraine greets her very
changing sky, the scentsof leaf ard flower cordially, and even smiles with less repu,� ph, after that—the deluge," laughs
g LadyJean, pushing aside her plate and
that touch one like a sound of. music., Ah-! nonce on Jo, who is one of her special shaking out the countless lace ruffles and
those nights, those mornings, those scenes detestations, and who looks even uglier, frills of her cambric morning gown. "I
that are the same, yet not the same, how and more Jewish than of yore. could-- not take _bre au grand sown. ; iI
they make one's whole soul sick with long They are a very brilliant party assembled would kill me. Oh, I know what you
ing, and mad with -regret 1" here, and the theme on ever • tongue is the would say. Excitement is frivolous, use-
"
" And you have borne all this so long ?" coming race, and . the "wonderful English less,wearing to our nerves, destructive
rays Lauraine, wonderingly..racer owned by Sir Francis. Lauraine to health and beauty. Perhaps so. But
Yes,"she_ answers ; it seems long, wonders a little. to find the women appar you are blessed with a serene temperament;
as the men—at the fluency with which
does isnot ? And I have not pined away ently as conversant with racecourse slang am not. I like to live, to enjoy, to be in
much: I don't look like a love-lorn maiden, one whirl from morning till night. •I don't
do P? T. have not gone into a decline, or Lady Jean discourses running on
training,"
and care about long lite, peace, tranquility.
hedging, „ No, I want all I call, ¢ohile I can."
fallen away to shadow, or grown grey "liars condition. It seems so long since
with sorrow, or done anythinc I ought to she was with women of this sort, women Lauraine looks at, her curiously. She
have done according to romancers.
suspects, that
who ape the "lords of creation" in manners, knows very little of Lady Jean—only just
pose no one I know ever p dress, and morals, that she feels bewildered so much as one woman - in society .does
cher hada memory
stil .much less that I pursues the same
cherish its memory stilt" and out of place amidst them alh know of another who moves in the same set,
" Your nature must be a very constant' When dinner is over they saunter out to dances at the same balls,
the Kursaal. The band is playing, the routine of enjoyments. But she knows she
vne," says Lsuraine, bitterly. ,`'You make salons are crowded. The lights sparkle i9
me ashamed of myself. No wonder Keith
reproaches pie with unfaithfulness, t amid the trees, and fall on fair faces and
a
I think fidelity is an 'established in- lovely toilettes, on sovereigns of the demi-
stinct," says Lady Etwynde. "It is very monde, supreme and defiant ; on other
much an accident of our own natures. To soverigns and celebrities, quiet,' unobtrusive
me, it seems an utter impossibility to even undistinguished. They mingle with the
think of - caring for another man. Cyril crowd. Lady Jean, Sir Francis, and Laur•
CxrlisIe eves my first lover ; I•gave him all sine are walking on a little in advance of
.., that .wan in me to give. It was all my life showers of silver spray, the white gleam-thers. A fountain is f
to tae. suppose—to ` him—it. was but f. • a statue shines through the foliage ; on the
other experier:ce." -- �� { chairs beneath the trees two people are
"Yours is a grand nature, says Lauraine, a man and a woman.
lou ing won ,
1 L d We ourselves but remembered by what we
�ake her beauty more fair, more have done -
I need not be missed if another succeed me,
To reap down the fields which in spring I
have sown ;
He who ploughed and sowed is no, missed by
the reaper
He is only remembered by what he has done.
Not myself, but the truth that in life I have
spoken.
Not myself. but the seed that in life I have
sown,
Shall pass on to ages—all about me forgotten.
Save the truth I have spoken, the truth I
have done. •
So let my living be -so be rey dying ;
So let my name lie unblazoned, unknown,
Unpraised and unmissed, I shall still be re-
membered—
Yes, remembered by what I have
d
popular[Horat
and admired, ori good terms with
the world at large, andan immense favour- � guardsboatmen order as to lie doers at fu:>C�
ate with men.approach th
"You don't agree with . me, of course?" length in the boats, as weachatter e
pursues Lady Jean, sipping her claret, and . cliff, and amidst the busy, g
"f
I
amusedly at
aims and grave face. ambitions upe on onothe rocks,rried the orders
soundfronn the men
of splashing
I suppose .you haveP
e
and `views' like your friend Lady Etwynde? she ' unfortunate occupant of squeal
intomwhich
What a curious thing, by the -way,
should be a friend of _yours, or, -indeed, bf ' a bu throw h aosof water has
feet
anybody's except a peacock. She mustg
dreadfully uninteresting!" I high, and find ourselves in a fairy grotto.
"I think her charming," answers Laur- y Itis noon, the best hat � erfor the wonder -
and eine., "She is one of the few good, trust -Ifni effect of light,
re -
women it has been my lot to meet." j fraction of the rays of the ut un is something
Lady Jean feels a Cttle uncomfortable. ;marvelous. It is a blue in ling with sliver,
k' deringly at the calm noble face. eitting—
" You shame me for myself. If I had but , - The light falls on her face: "it is very
� ranch to art. •He>r�hair
loveiy,though owing
kept true n nen er ud Y " ' i is of too vivid a gold to be quite Dalmatia the
"One can never �ndg�e is of angther s case . grey . eyes are- swept by lashes
by one's own," answers 'Lady Etwynde, great shades Bayes n their trby 1 hues
, No doubt you were tired, hurried foto it. manyShe is talking and laughing loudly. The man
xnow, oh I. 'i know. You are not the .
one.
Bonar.
Blue Grotto of Capri.
As we approach the cliffs of Capri below
Naples, we notice a tiny opening against
which the spray is dashing --for there is
quite a sea ruuning and there is a stiff sea
breeze—and upon shelves in the rock
several men are gathered who seem to he
Archaeologists report many valuable finds
in Kansas. In addition to the ancient fort
excavated from the . solid -rock, there leas
been discovered another and larger fort,
built somewhat in the mannerol the work
ascribed to the mound builders Numerous
mounds of supposed "great antiquity leave
also been discovered.
Mae—" That Miss Jumper is dreadfully
masculine in all her ways." " What does - -
she do?" Mae--" Oh, I've seen her get off -
the car before it stopped • without . falling."
It won't be..leng until the coal dealer's= -
u B
or shee
would feel th colour mounting as she shades, an unreal illogical blending -off colors onetime more him lying m weight for them
meets Lauraine's calm, frank gaze. ( that must be seen to be appre
She has long passed the stage of blushing, describe,a gorgeo
_-
eta -
AGR MULTI
Ido Other Itduatry
tf
Ontario 1?akibit
Adr
F. Howard Anne
Jackson Park, writ
Agriculture in al
abo re every other
bian Exposition.
farm and life on th
charms of health al
ture can help being
here and sees what
the oldest and rnos
the human race.
AGHICCL!
the great building 1
ment of the Fair,is'
Lalace of lioeral
but yields the pain
city of white pal
with appropriate s
lugs. These artist
sive beauty and w
to nature. At nigh
tric search lights
tures building, ac
(as the big lagoon -
the main building
these works of -
revealed in eve
Gauden's golden
poised above the
the transcendent
masterpiece is nes
The magnificen
at the Grand Paci
tendered W. I. 1?
THE WOE:
by the exhibitors
different departm
tare, forestry an
evidence of the h
upon the most ho
farming. The
part of the exp -
dignitary of the e
ored by the men f
in their capacitie
hers of commissic
the exposition au
inevitably arrive
and enquirer is 1
agriculture is col
dinary ability ar
at the head of a
tion that to Chien
the credit of the
been attained.
It is well to r
already won by
contest have bee
pertinent unde
whole-souled ge
tories Ontarians
the live stock s1;
September and
cause Chief B
bound to see a f
tween competit
was the play -da
work which has
at the Fair of at
tor from all L
wit and wisdor
and the farmer
and gold dining
number of over
and parlors of
time in social c
that time the s
man Henry W.
BRITISH SL'PERI'
the great dinin
the mandoline
guests Marche
banquet was on
saw as he took:
tables extendin
forming the let'
the head table -
and ferns studs
France roses ar
afterwards pre
Tables trim
were dra
avintia were at
smaller as .the'
mass, there wer
with Japanese
tnberofes, glad•
can beauty, ar
Above was aI
shaped figures'
the entrance to
of smilax and f
At each plate
In the upper le
a velvet bow it
_bearing the in
first page was
cultural Buildi
•;R'ollawing this
suggested the
soul when the
whole handson
a silken cord.
of such iuteres
er I thought
card with Mr.
I secured, out
Dryden, Minist
for so far, the
Canada has we
the wisdom of
assisting by all
and developn
the premier pr
never felt mo
than when Mr.
sible to atten
Ontario at -
recogniation
Buchanan's w
Dominion was•
fellow, superi
Canada, R. S.
part of the pre
eulogistic of
From his nap
sure he must
that well -knee
nomen he be
Ohio. One a
of Gyrus H. .
spirit of the oc
was that of th
The regiete
cultural exhib
for opinions f
recent opinion
Ontario's ex
S. Murray an(
Two famou
Ontario exbibi
ed,—Miss 0.
w