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The Wingham Times, 1911-05-18, Page 7i mow sv-ctsactmiutito Parted at the Altar By LAURA JEAN LIBBEY Author f of "When Lovely Maiden Stoops to Folly," "Olives Court- ship," "When His Love Grew Co14," Etc. e/�6'(•��.,r`'hi.ic,i ��,'c��cei{��i�' ..i,(�.,i�.,i, ,i,�'�?.i �,y,�.,i,�siv,,i,�(.,}, ��(��,G`� Then she dismissed. $be subject trona 'her thoughts. She had sent for Dario is •comet to hor boudoir as soon as she felt herself sufficiently rested; and in a shore time. Doris returned to her. It wee quite noticeable to Mrs, Thorn- ,I mush sot her at ease, ton hostrange and ill at ease Miss 4 C rlisle was in her presence. " she thought. w 'Dear me, this shyness is mostuncom- ortable." 8o she talked easily and kindly to '.Doris, lentil the white, startled fano gree" calm and still. " You shall write some letters for me after luncheon, Miss Carlisle," she said, "The fleet, and byfarthemost import ant elf them all, ito my son. He left home only able morning to be gone e fortnight, and ib almost seems to me that he has beeh gone a week." In all her life,, Doris neverexperiences more conflicting emotions than when she wrote that letter which Frederiok's mo her dictated. The white bands trembled so over the 'words "My darling Frederick," Out silt could scarcely hold the pen; but with a great effort she controlled herself, know - eat that the eyes of his mother were .regarding her curiously. "Your hand trembles, Miss Carlisle," she said, frowning. "Are you of a nerv- ous temperament? I have a horror of nervous people." "I am not nervous," replied Doris, it a lowaloe. " v Oh I hope p have not an- noyed n• no a y d you.I I was anxious to write the letter as nicely as I could." "One should always take the greatest pains with every duty one has to per • foam," said Mrs. Thornton. "Well, now that you have fairly commenced. go on , tq say the house seems more than lonely to me without him; that I shall expect him home sooner than a fortnight, if he can adjust matters satisfactorily. "Say that the ball which we had are ranged to take place on the 20th of Hill month, we shall set for the eighteenth, And last—and by far the most pleasant news to him—say that Vivian, his awes' heart, is coming, to spend a few days al the villa. That will bring him home quickly, 4f anything can." Of course, it was only her fanny, but Mrs. Thornton quite imagined that elle heard a little, gasping ory. The dark head bent lower over the white page. She could not see Miss Carlisle's face. "Heaven help me! how can I write -that!" thought Doris, crushing back the bitter tears that threatened to fall from her long lashes and blot the page. "Oh, I God1 how can I, his wife—who love him ';.so—write those words 1" She had not thought of facing such !bitter heart pangs as this, when she en- tered•her husband's home in disguise, accepting the position of companion to his haughty mother. , "You write slowly, Miss Carlisle," said Mrs. Thornton, frowning impa- tiently. "You heard what I dictated last, did you not? The sentence was, Miss ,Courtney, his fiancee, is to spend a few. days with us " . Making a desperate effort at self•oon•' trol, Doris penned the words, and they seemed to dance in a blood -red mist be- fore her eyes. She longed, with a bitter longing she could hardly repress, to ory out:—. "Vivian Courtney can never marry your son, cold, proud lady, for he is al- ready Wedded, and to me." What would Mrs. Thornton have said had she known that thie young girl sit- ting so quietly by her sldo was her idol- ized son's young wife—bride to her brile iiante.handeome young heir—whom she. loved as she loved no one else on earth, and whet had been parted from her bride,- groom ridegroom at the very altar, as it were. - At last the letter was finished. aerated and directed. Doris could have bent her head and kissed the envelope, Tor she knew it would rest' in Ma hands; those dear, " strong, white hands, that had , thrilled her heart to the very core as they bad clasped . hers on that:. memorable •sledding night, as she stood with him, ao cold and awed and frightened, before the altar, !"The rest of the letters can remain until after lunoheon." Doris had not heard the remark; eh* was thinking ho* fortunate it was that Frederick Thorntomt had never keen het writing. Mrs, Thornton was just about to speak .again, when she was interrupted by the sudden entrance of Isabel and Gwendolin Thornton. Doris raised her oyes in breathless anx- iety to see what Frederick's sisters were • *Wee Cold and proud, like their haughty Mother. She saw that .at a glance; but despite this, her heart gave a strange. thrill as Isabel Thornton glanced toward her with eyes em startlingly like her brother's. ' "My . daughters. this is Miss Carlisle,' mny new companion," Bald the 'nether, languidly, Beth young ladies bowed coldly to Perin, then seemed to ignore her 'presence completely. Doris rose to leave the room. "You need not go," said Mrs. Thorne tbn;;.and Doris resumed hor seat. Their. whole conversation was about the cone- , •Ing ball, and about their brother. "I shall be so glad to see Frederick eatbled in life at, last," murmured his mother. "1 have always been in great fear lest he should fall in lore with some girl—a nobody wtih a pretty face—and mise her on the im alae of the moment, , P h is I o so very lmupuleive. "I beheve, e'ten in that case, yeti would Moe forgiven hire" mamrna,," laughed Gwendoiif, lightly; "you Idol- ize him so," Mrs Thottiton drew herself up to her fullest height, . "Knowing my principles as well tie Iron do, you surprise me by tettering such a remark, Gwendolin," she said, severe- ly. "Much as I love him, that is the one thing that I could never have forgiven say moa marrying beneath him. I would dlsewn biro he the monient 1 heard of touch an not of folly. He should never in - ?melt one dollar of the Thornton estate. It would rather see hitt tylfrg dead at iny het than minted beneath him." "You ;are pleased with Vivian," mulled 0wendollti. , ."The delslrs of rimy heart wil.Y,bo.g t , lied when my son marries Vivian (,curt- nay," replied her mother, "She is beau- tiful, an heiress to a million in her own right, and 1s A lady by birth and educa- tion. She is in everyway fitted to be- come Frederick's bride, Why should I not be pleased?" ,Dori' heart turned gold as she lis- tened. livery word cut her heart like the thrust of a dagger. She could have cried aloud as the words fell, °leer, dlstinot and cruel, from those oold, proud lips. She had treasured the wild hope in her Peer, hungry heart that she might be able by a world of patience • and endur- ance to win her way at last to Freder- ick's mother's c h s heart• now e saw, how futile had been that wild fancy. It could never be done—never while the sun shone or the grass grew. How little hope there was for her, atter. all, Her bowed bead dropped lower and lower. Mrs. Thornton noticed, it. "Yon look tired, Miss Carlisle," she said.I'erh s you would like to al out into the grouds the air is refresh- ing." ef esh-ing." Doris gladly availed herself of the op- portunity. Out in the solitude of the grounder, when quite shut oat from the view .of the open windows by the interlacing trees, Doris threw up her white atm 'with, a bitter ory to heaven :— "Oh, I can never endure iii" ahs cried. "It would drive me mad l—yes,. mad, I thought I was stronger, 'but, , no, my heart is breaking. After I have looked upon Frederick's false, handsome tads I will go quietly away." Tho words had scarcely died away on her lips ere she beheld a sight which made her catch her breath with a star- tled ory. ek young girl in a white mull dress. carrying a white parasol in her hand edged with•Oriental lace, game swiftly up the path. It was Vivian Courtney. Would Vivian recognize her, despite the dark, disguising stain on her fair face and golden hair? It was a moment of intense suspense to Doris. Her heart beat in great stiffing throbs, and terror deepened in her blue eyes. With desperate hands she clung tightly to the marble 'railing that sur- rounded the fountain. - Nearer, nearer Vivian approached, eye- ing intently the Blender, girlish figure standing by the fountain. There was something strangely familiar • •about her, yet, looking into the dark face, Vivian did not recognise her. With quick steps she passed Doric by and went on to the house. "I am safe!" mattered Doris, drawing her breath hard. "She does not know me. She looked after Vivian, the graceful, haughty beauty, the belle of the semin- ary in that other life which seemed so far behind her, whom Frederick Thorn- ton loved. Young, an heiress,the Mol of both par- ents' and lover's heart—ah, what more had lite to offer her? So much had been given to Vivian,,while to her had been given—nothing. She asked herself why God bad distributed His gifts so unfair- ly. Even tho love that would hada Drowned her life and made this poor earth a heaven to her, had been taken from her and given to Vivien, the beauty. And, standing thore in the red glow of. the sunlight, the words of the poet' came to her:— "No one could tell, for nobody knew, Why love was made to gladden a few; And hearts that would forever be true Go lone .and starved the whole way through." • • "But for her he might have loved me," sobbed Doris. and the pangs of jealousy, more bitter to endure than death, swept through the girl's heart. Slowly she walked back to the house, and up to Mrs. Thornton's•boudoir; that lady was in the best of spirits. amu gald you aro here. Mise Car- lisle," she said. "I want you to go to the apartments that have been set. aparl for Miss Courtney's use,' and see that they are in readiness for her. See that fresh flowers are put in the vases, and this portrait of my son Frederick placed on the mantel.", - CHAPTER'XIV+—LIFE IS TOO HARD TO BEAR Doris took the portrait and turned away. Mrs. Thornton must note + the deadly pallor that stole over her as her eyes rested on that handsome ,aloe:: Out in the corridor, beyond the gaze of his mother's stern eyes, poor, hapless Doris gave fall vent to her pent-up feel.• ings; "He was hers," she oiled out, covering the portrait with passionate kisses.. "No• one else had a right to :lotto him:1 The picture belonged to her room—not ian'e: " Doris carried out Mrs. Thornton's in- struotions faithfulle—all save placing Fredorlek Thornton's porrtrait 'dn Viv- ian's mantel. That she tarried to her own room. andbid it securely from all prying eyes (nevor'dreaming of the cruel Consequences • that, would. accrue .from that retell 'act), there to worship it in sooeet. Poor Doris! Despite the fact that she believed her young husband had willfully and deliberately deserted her, she still laved him with a wonderful, noble love; there was something half divine in its intensity. Only a noble girl dould be capable of such a love. The fire of passion ole theay are incapable of does not With ignoble so it• • During the nett for days of Vivlalee stay at !Thornton Villa Doris avoided her as much ne possible. A bitter pang of jealousy shot through her heart that she could neither 'subdue nor control, as her eye rested upon her rival. It downed to Doris that Vivian was growing mere beautiful each day. It was little wonder that Frederick Thornton loved her. day, piquant'+ivlan oouid Count lovers by the sabre, They were all so fond of 'V'ivtan ht Thornton Villa it made Doris's heart 6614 80 see it,Shehad had such wild, vain hopes of coming to Frtderiok e Koine and winning her way to the hearts of his mother and eider! Before ahe had 4. 15h lift. lht'utQ8t$ !lot#w S?? N'11E V INI1kl .V1 TIMES) MAY 1R, 1911 week one knew M, noun sever be realized. One afternoon, While she was reading IQ Mrs. Thornton, a telegram came. „ , , Is from o n myold i f 1so 1 0 KM," , h a mother, !aging It down with a pleased. smile,' ."Will you oblige me, Miss Carlisle, by going to find Isabel and Vivian, and. tellingthemn Feederiok will be With us this' evening? I think You will find them. in Vivian's room, They were there read- ing not half an hour minae, Why, how white you look, Mtss Carlisle! Are you ill?" she asked, in wonder. "You seem dazed!" • "No! nal" murmured Doris, striving I to hide her intense excitement and pite- ous confusion. "The room is eo warp!!" "And I think it extremely cold for this season of the year," replied Mrs. Thornton, impatiently. Doris never knew how ahe left the room, The ceiling, the floor, the cold, proud face of Frederick's haughty lady - mother, seemed to whirl around her. She. remembered nothing until she found her- selfe broad corridor, in the She could nob go to Viviau's, room yet. She must sit down and try to collect her scattered sonsee--try to still the teem- bling that had seized her. Frederick Was coming home, In a few short hours he would be there, and be- neath his mother's roof .bo would meet the poor, helpless little bride he bad so cruelly deserted almost at the very altar. Yet her disguise was so perfect he would not recognize her; 'Vivian had not. "I am growing dazed, as Mrs. Thorn- ton says," she murmured. "I had almost forgotten to deliver her message," Still trembling pitifully, she moved on down. the corridor, and standing at the western window, she saw Isabel Thorn- ton and Vivian. She walked up to them like one in a dream. Vivian turned her head haughtily, and looked at the slim, dark figure who bad stopped beside her. iu surnrtee. Evident- ly she was not pleased with this inter ruption of the conversation she was hav- ing with Isabel. Then poor Doris made the first fatal mistake of her life. '"Frederiok is coming here," she said. "He will be here this evening." The soundofher own voice seemed se hoarse and Dorisunnatural i u could never have recognized' 1t herself. Isabel Thornton gazed at her in aaton• lshment, not unmixed with dismay. The familiar way in which her mother's paid companion spoke of her brother Fredet- lok amazed'ner. In that instant Dorie saw her almoel fatal mistake, and hastened to repair the great error. "These were your mother's words," she said, shrinking back confusedly, "X repeated hes message in her own words." And turning away before Isabel Thorn- ton could find ber voice, she fled like a startled doe down the corridor again. "A droll creature," ; laughed Isabel, turning to her. companion. "There seems to be something so mysterious and strange about her." "I have been thinking the same thing myself," returned Vivian, with a merry laugh. "She reminds me of some one whom I have seen; but I cannot think who, to save my life. She is pretty, too, with a strange, weird sort of gypsyish beauty. I never remember seeing before such deep blue eyes, with such a brunt complexion andjetty hair. Do you know the fancy comes to me that I have. seen that girl before?" "She is hardly worth discussing, my dear Vivian," said Isabel, yawning, "yet, strange to say, our Trixy is quits fond of her." That afternoon, an hour later,. Doris suddenly encountered Vivian at the door of her room, as she was passing by. "I was just wishing that I could see y6u," said Vivian. "I'have: a little favor to ask of you. Would you mind coining into my room and helping me a little° with my toilet? I—I wish' to look partite, 1 ularly nice this afterneone" A fierce, bitter pan's shot through Dorie's jealous heart. She knew but' too I well why Vivian Courtney• desired to look so particularly nice on this eventful evening; it was because -Frederick Thera - ton was expected home. Silently she followed Vivian into her room, half o dozen of the beauty's pretti- est dresses were lying across the bed; she had evidently been inspecting.thern. "Not one of them seems' to please me . to -day," • declared Vlivan. "I would like yon to exeroise your good tants by judg- ing for me. Do you think this Dream lace, with great clusters of deep -red pas- elon roses at the belt, would be most be- , coming? or do you fancy 1 would look best in that rose -pink mull? or the Nile green silk, with the white lace, on the back of that chair by the window?" "Thera raceme to ha • - S�I,� Dr. Wood's Norway, Pine Syrup Y Cured Her. weighed res Pomade— ' ow Mit&hs 172 ' lin. Clerks McDermott„ Bathurst„ N.B., writer: —"I thought I would Write and 1e1 you know the benefit I have remised through the use of D. Wood's Norinliy Syrup. Tbrer jedri I had' I bad three doctoas attending me and they ware ve y moth.' alarmed about my condition. I weir as Creak 0014 miserable I could not de rep White 1 hhomework.oaksn 6 B.B.B.almanac I saw t► tha t i Dr. Wood's NarWay Pine Syrup waif for week lungs, so I i bottle ttkb i '. gots , at the drts6 tiltifei, and after leo bo w ttlds s■ coma Asking X plety cured. At that tkdae' Y ; 135• - and now weigh sigh i72, a of tends in three 37 • I now pa . , years, cep it in the time All the time and would not be without it for anything, as .I owe my life to it,' De. Wood's Norway plate Syrup earl* tams thelung virtues of the Norway pine tree, combined With other • eorbent . b:tpeelorstl0 and soothing inediciare, makes it withb'tmt a doubt the best remedy for ssougbe,etdde bronchitisand all throat add lung trouble.. Price 25 cents at all dealer. Ilewses of imitations. The iliac is, toted *AZ .ye twin the three, Miss Vivian," said Doris, In a hard, constrained 'neoe, "I think the cream lace Will be more attractive," said Vivian, refleotiveiy, "Will you kindly assist maa little with the looping on, the left side—it has come out." Doris bowed her bead and took up the dress, Ah, how beautiful Vivian would look in it she well knew. How admir- ingly the eyes of Froderlok Thornton would rest on her—she he weeniewear it to be attractive to him—and the though* was bttter as death to Doris. - How radiant Vivian looked when she stood before the mirror dressed! The dream lace dress, wbloh showed every line of her exquisitely slender, graceful figure to the fullest advantage; the round white arms, bare be the elbows, were en - elected by ruby bands that sparkled like. coals of fire, whichever way she turned; o necklaceof rubies encircled her fair, white throat, and a dazzling butterfly, with gold and ruby wings, naught back her jettycurls Her cheeks were Studied, and her dark oyes glowed. "You have a wonderful toot for arrange , Ing one's toilet, Miss Cartier'," said Viv- I Ian, critically surveying the effect 1a the mirror, and smiling pleasediy—"you. have miss d your vocation, I think. You ought to have been a lady's maid instead of a companion." How Doris longed to turn to her and ory out:— "You are mistaken. Heaven never in. tended me for the one or the other—.but for what I am—Frederick Thornton's wife " "I shall remember your kindness in assisting me," said Vivian, loftily, "and to -morrow 1. will look over my wardrobe and see if I can pick up something for yuu,Miss Carisle;you y u are very clover— very." "Do not trouble yourself, I beg of you," said Doris, stiffly. "I would accept nothing—nothing whatever from your hands." A sudden thought seemed to strike the petted young heiress. "Perhaps you would not be averse to. a little spending money, then, Mies Car- lisle. I wish to show my appreciation in some substantial manner." Doris recoiled quickly. "No, no," she answered, huskily. "I could not aooept a penny from you. 1 want nothing at your hands. Nothing." .And she hurriedly quitted the room ere Vivian could reply. "Was there ever such an odd, strange little creature?" murmured the heiress. "Yet, there is something about her that quite fascinates me in site of myself." She went down to the drawing -room to join Isabel and biwendolin, and thought no more of the little companion with the benne face and dark hair. Meanwhile, Doris was in her own room, sobbing as though her heart would break. How she wished that she had never come to this stately, cold, proud home. It was too late to undo it now. She must live through it. let 1t be what it might. Oh, if heaven would help her! The only wish just at that moment in het heart was, that she could turn her face to the wall and die—die, even though he would be there in a few short hours, and the desire of her heart—to look once more on his face—be granted. She would like to kneel, with the port• reit clasped close to her heart, by her white bed and die there. It mhttered little to. her what they would think or say when they came and found her dead. Frederick would hear of it. And per. haps he would come and look upon her face, understand it all, and recognize her and feel sorry; and, in his sorrow bend acid ktss her death -cold lira. He would know she died because she could not live without him. CHAPTER XV.—A TORTURED HEART. Frederick was coming home. In a few hours from now she should see him The, idea seemed almost mare than ahe could grasp. What woul:i he ray wmme.t he found her there? That question began to sssamine a terrible form to poor Doris. Would there be a scene? She knelt there, in the red glow of the sunlight, trying in vain to drive the ter- rible doubts and fears ,way. Perhaps 1t was come faint foreshadowing of the sor- row to come that made her, tremble as Me knelt there—the thrill! of that strange tragedy which was to Dross her life. There came a tap at the door. "Mrs. Thornton would be glad to have Miss Carlisle come to her boudoir." And with a slow, hesitating step,Dorie went. "I want you to read to me, Miss Car- lisle," she said. "I never remembered an afternoon to pass so slowlv." Mechanically, Doris picked up the book. The lines on the page ,seemed to waver before her eyes. The dusk crept up, and the' stars came out. Long since one of the little maids had entered and lighted the chandelier. Still Doric read on. It was better than talking. Doris felt that she should go mad if Mrs. Thornton were to talt to her about Frederick and Vivian—her favorite subject. 'Suddenly there was a sound of carriage wheels stopping before the porch, and the next moment voices were heard in the lower hall. "My son has arrived," said Mrs. Thornton. Doris spoke no word. Her face grew pale es marble, even under the brune tint. She could count the great, gasping heart throbs. She clung with cold, trem- bling hands to the table lest she should fa11, praying, with white lips and sha- dowed eyes, that she might not die when her eyes fell upon his face. Some minutes passed—how many Doris never knew. Then came the sound of footsteps that Doris knew so well. She pressed her hand on her heart, for its wild beating frightened her as each step fell on her ear'. She could have cried aloud In agony with the terrible tension of her nerves; but her white lips could form no e ound. The next minute he had entered the .room. Handsome, laughing Frederick Thornton stood before her. She never understood why g the sl ht did not kill her.' Why, when her eyes rested upon she did not fall dead. Oh, hew kindly he greeted his nkther, laughing heartily when she told him the days he had spent away from her seemed like so many months. How strange 1t was that he could IMO. Doris thought. when the sin of breslkieg a heart lay et hie deor. Dhris shrank back among the attadows I of the heavy silken curtains. but Mrs. Thornwrf evoke her name,and .Dori* rose. i'rederick, my sen, this is my out. panful?, Miss Carlisle," she heard his mother say' what else was uttered Doris Ws_y- %...0 -Ia,M. 110.110F Frederick Thornton looked. .carelessly in the direction Flee indicated. He maw a slim, dark -faced little creature, who seemed to be trembling With .00nfu- sio11, he thought, His eyes rested on her only an instant, Then with, a IoW bow he turned away,. Doris stood rooted to the spot, Silent. motionless all the tragedy and passion of her love shining in her face, ber arms fell helplessly to her side. She oould not leave m e s cued to hAve waved her life. She bad expected, despite the Ohmage to her, that he, the handsome young husband, who had wedded hor, Would reoognize her; that he would ory out either In anger or emotion. But no; he turned away, knowing bet not. Oh, the pity of It 1—the cruel pity of it! She remembered how they had parted in the sunny hotel parlor, "I shall be baok within an hour," he had said, as he tossed the well-filled purse into her lap to replenish her ward- robe; then, with a smile and a nod Without afarewell kiss, he had turned apd walked out of the room, leaving her to her fate. She remembered the horrible nights. anct the days that had followed -+-bow she nearly went mad with watching :or him and calling wildly upon him to come back to her. And she remembered the Drowning blow of all—when the good old 'house- keeper had taken her in her arms, at- tempting to soothe her as though she had been a little child, as she whispered the pitiful words in ber eat:— "Do not grieve and weep for him, child; in my. opinion he is not worth a tear. He will never come bank; he has deserted you." Doris lived' over again that horrible scene, as, quite unnoticed, she gazed at the handsome face of her faithless young husband. Oh! why had he married, her if he had intended to desert her? Of the terrible accident that had oc- curred, nearly costing Frederick Thorn- ton his life. and the loss of memory as to the late events which had transpired, sweeping away all remembrance of a bride who awaited him, of course Doris knew nothing; and thus fate continued. to play at cross-purposes with these two. Itwas to end n tragedy i a t 9d so pitiful u the g yP t the angels would weep ,for Doris, the helpless child -bride whose young life had all gone wrong, In the evening rho ladies assembled in the drawing -room, whore Frederick and his father awaited them. Doris would have given much to absent herself, but Mrs. Thornton Insisted that she should be present. There seemed no loophole of escape for her. Frederick and Vivian were standing by one of the lace -draped windows as she entered; his handsome face bent over her, and he was talking to her in so low a tone Doris oould not catch the words be uttered. What was be saying to her that brought that lovely flush to Vivian's cheeks and the bright light to her eyes? Was be com- plimenting her on her beauty? Was he. Who was bound to another by every tie that heaven holds sacred—daring to speak to her of—love? The banker and his wife watched them, and nodded and smiled to each other. Gwendolin and Isabel sat at the piano discussing some pieces of music, and Beatrix sat curled up in an arm- chair watching the anguished face of her mother's young companionion with much curiosity. "Dear me, what a tragical expres- sion!" thought Trixy, shuddering. "How she watches my brother and Vivian, and .-can it be possible?—there are tears in her eyes. Poor girl! why is she so un- happy? I wonder if mamma has been scolding her or threatening to discharge her." All uecoasoious of this intense scru- tiny, Doris still sat watching the two, standing by the moonlit window. "How beautiful Vivian is!" thought Doris, sick at heart. "No wonder be re- grets that on the impulse of the moment be married me instead of Vivian, the beauty. Ab, who could resist her? Was she not the very nueen of love?" Women have suffered much and will gaffer again; they have endnred the pangs of death with a smile; they have' listened to words which were their death warrant, and have answered with a bright laugh; 'they have stood still, firm and undismayed, while the sharpest sword has pierced their hearts; but per- haps erhaps no woman ever suffered morekeen- ly than Doris as she sat, watching Fred- erick Thornton and Vivian. She saw him offer Vivian his arm, and together they stepped from the long French win- dow out on the porch, and down into the rose garden beyond. How tenderly he had draWn the light scarf Over Vlvian's shoulders, fearful lest the night wind should blow upon her too roughly. Oh, how Doris longed to follow them! —follow and confront them in the path, crying out! "He is mine! Do not take him from me! You have every blessing the world holds dear, while I have only him! I am alone in the world but for him! Send him from you 1 Do not smile upon him! And heaven may let his estranged heart drift back to ane. I alone have the right to his love!" She rose from her seat with that wild, rash intention; then she remembered where she was. "What is the matter, Mies Carlisle?" said Frederick's mother. "There is a look in your eyes which startles me. Are you tired?" "Yee," replied Doris, faintly. "Then you had better retire to your own room,"" said Mrs. Thornton. Doris gladly availed herself of this pee- enissllon. Her window looked out on the retie garden and th6 fountain. She could watch then unobserved, 'When she reached her room and steels breathlessly to the window, die found they were not there, They must have passed to some other portion of the grounds. Poor Doris stood by the window, her hands closely looked ttgetber, the bitter tears falling from bee eyes. She had had her heart a desire. She had looked upon Frederick Thornton's face again. She had hearethis voice, For this she had borne the almost intolerable restraint of her disguts•, and hied dared enter lila honle, She had bellowed that looking Upon is face just once mire wou ld still and calm the fever that was burning her heart away. She believed after that the terrible pain of longing would die away. Instead of that it was redoubled; it was intensified a thousand times. That first glance at her husband's handsome, laughing 'taco had roused her love into fall and active lite Y gain, She had said to herself she would look et him just once, awl go away. Was she ready to go now? Oh, no, nal --a thou- sand times nal What should she do, then!, live on in t..ria,ith ma mother's roar. ,11 • 11111111111 111111111 111111 1111111 I n I 1 n u 11 n 11111 nl1 pxuaa anulnxnwcga„i umnulunlxeunxlannnnWIIfn sNW inuiminmuuluium itranini!m,I inumn 1 If111nrnuoitl111fIN )Vegetable Preparationfor,As: Mania ling McFoo('andRe uta-. ting the 5tolltarhs andBowels of PromotesDigesfion,Cheerful- nessand Rest.Contains neither ppittritMorphirte nor krineral. NOT 11TAIRC OTIC. a/'OldIhrf "Lll, ZPIdCid"T! Bev/de Sri Alx.Jeene • ft "Mist Jeal • !n Gardenaails • lien Seed - gviwil• Nam AperfectRemedy forConstipa- tion, Sour Stotnach,Diarrhoea, Worms,Convutsions,Feverish- ness and Loss OF SLEEP.` TacSiinile Signature of e r NEW YORK. EXACTOPYOr WRAPPER. C A a ,e.aree CASTORIA For Infants and Children. The Kind You Have Always Bought Bears the Signature of 4 In IJse For Over Thrty Years CASTORIA vat ec,naus COMMNV. NCW ream em. paid companion. or should she go and seek her husband, when the house was still and dark, and beg of him to tell her why he had married her and spoiled her lite if he meant to desert her? She world tell him the cruel rumors that they were (irculating—that beauti- ful Vivian was hts sweetheart, and that he was soon to marry her—and beg him to refute those stories, for it could novae be true while she, his wife, lived. He had deserted her, it was true, but for all that she was Ms wedded wife. No act of man's could ever part the two whom God himself had joined together by the solemn ties of marriage. She would tell him that. The long hours dragged themselves slowly by as she sat at the -moonlit win- dow. At length the house was still. Darkness wrapped it in a mantle of gloom. The midnight hour sounded from some far-off belfry. Doris rose to her feet, glided to her chamber door, and softly opened it, step- ping out into the corridor, "May heaven help mei" she moaned. "This action is the turning point of my life." Then she walked swiftly down the dark corridor without one glance behind her. CHAPTER BVI.—"ONLY KEEP MY SECRET." Stealthily as a shadow Doris flitted out into the dimly lighted corridor. Her face flushed, her hands burned, her heart beat wildly, her brain seemed on fire. She must know the truth. She could bear sorrow and this cruel despair no longer. She must know the worst. Her alippered feet made no sound on the -thick, velvet carpet as she hurried along. Suddenly a hand was laid on her shoulder, and the voice of Beatrix Thornton exclaimed in astonishment:— "Why, Miss Carlisle, what are you do- ing here so late?" And as she spoke, Trixy threw open the library door before which they stood, and a flood of light streamed out upon Doris's white, startled face. Trixy's question had been so abrupt it almost took her breath away; but she recovered something like composure al- most the next momeat,however. I Was restless; Icould o wnosleep;tso x came down to the library for a ok," she faltered. She did not add that she kneW It was Frederick Thornton's cus- tom to spend long hours here after the family had retired, and she expected to find him here to -night. "That is my case exactly," laughed Trixy. "Come in, and I will help you select a. good book." Trembling with suppressed excitement, Doris followed her into the library. cast- ing her eyes eagerly about the room as she crossed the threshold. She saw that he'Whom she was in search of was not there. "You should not sit up reading and loose your beauty sleep to -night, above all other nights, for to -morrow night is our ball, you know. Some of the hand- somest young gentlemen in New York will be present. Take caro surae of them do• not carry away your heart, Miss Car- lisle. 1f I were a handsome young man, instead of a girl, I should fall straight- way in love with you. Why, what are you blushing so fort" cried Teixy. "Don't you like to talk about love and. lovers?" "No," replied Doris, in a low, dis- tressed voice, tears filling her deep blue :yes. "11 you please, Trixy. I'd rather not talk of such things." "You are certainly an odd girl," ," asm hcd Tri' hearth "Why, d : v. 1 0 you u 6 y, y, y knor'v, all the handsome ;young gentle- men hereabouts have fallen deeply In 'ave with you, anti have just been he. deicing both Isabel and Gwendolin for in introduction to y+ou? Every one takes : on for a guest o1 the house, instead of minima's companion .+" No laughing i r onl'or carne front 1)orie'a lips. The - an anxious look n her eyes. Ahl this, then, recounted or the growing Boldness with which the Wm sisters greeted her. "You do not seem enough interested (To be continued.) Wher',the Horse Fails. Bone and sinew, say J. T. Stirrett, in an article on Motor Trues, hi Mac- Lean's for April, cannot match a ma- chine. During the last few hours of -a busy day the efficiency of delivery,hors es decreases almost to a minimum. But the big truck is not so rugged as the beast. The former is in the hands of the garage exPert more frequently' than the horse is under the care of the veterinary surgeon. The great virtues of the horse, in comparison with the truck, are his cheapness and reliability. He can usually get home. The motor truck often refuses to return, and re- mains stranded at the other end of the route. Then another truck has to' be sent for it. If the second breaks down, a faithful steed must be despatched to tow them both home. An extraordinary case bas given rise to much sensation and comment around the Hamlin, W. Va., district, especially among the gounger members of the com- munity. The cause of the trouble lies in the fact that Albert Dick was indict- ed the other day by- the Lincoln county grand jury at Hamlin for disturbing re- ligious services, The indictment was returned on the evidence of Rev. John Beech, who testified that Dick kissed his sweetheart during the progress of the services and thereby disturbed the 'religious exercises. Humor and Philosophy 21.v DVJ►CAJV M. SMITH PERT PARAGRAPHS. NOTHING but hypocrisy answers when the !person is about who in- sists upon doing us a favor that we don't want done. As a ?natter of chuit•e the average man would take a toothache before he would go to an evening party. The small boy Isn't apt to be late to dinner when mother has made bis kind of pie. The young mind prefers brevity to brilliancy in preachers. A woman never fully enjoys a third -1 b1e party unless she has a startling piece of news to tell. • A man who has loot money on the election will hear it referred to should he be so undiplomatic as to growl about bousehold expenses. Save faith in, yourself, but don't for. get that faith has been defined as be- lief in a thing you know isn't ee. There is his difference between char- ity and reform—eharlty begins at home and reform begins on the other fellow. The hobo should be berfeetly haplpy". Ile doesn't pay taxes and he seems to be unat:taehed. ir It always riles a man to have bid wife tell him that bis unsuccessful rival for her band has just bought i beautiful latest model Automobile. 01.1.4 The world belongs to the young matey but he doesn't alwayg seem Able to prove till on itis claim. t .