MM
wt s,n
Advertisine Kates.
Th larre and rellaMe eli-eolatlon ot the C7w
rbi a rtssvii tocaMdi It to (be rawer! - -sideratloa
f awTwruswiw. sm favors will be
sorted at the followta low rat. :
1 roe, t tine ti e
1 " S noatbs t.fa
1 " months a
I " 1 year - ae
1 f mooths t S
1 ljMr 1M
S " imaloi...nn.i.. ..4n s.eo
1 year v
W col'n months .................a 1 0
S " moo the...... TV.
U 1 year 6
iDMtss. eo.or
I year T5-0
Itnpiness Hens, first tnserttoti IPe. per 1 tee ; :
nbeeiapnt insertion s. per line.
Adminltirator s and Kieentor'f Sotlees t.t
Auditor's rotl-i l.3
Stray and .Imllar Notloes.... l.r-
H'tolutycmt or jn-orrrdim ef ny fi ;tri
or $onftf. mnd cormnnmrmtioiu ietxQntd fe re ef f ew
fwa fe enj ew'ffr o iimiferf initvidumi nfrt
wtif lr pu jo drrtuement .
Joe I ainTiKO of all kinds neatly and esrd't
onsly executed at lowest prices . IioiUci forwwt
It.
w published Weekly at
I 0fBcO. CAXBKtA COVTTTT. PA
f fir inS arS
,j prulr.
3 , .... eh m """ - I.0
l.,t:T l; i( n.'t pld within 8 month!.. l.t
a it n-t V"U within a month. t.M
W . if not p'l witntn in year.
i
( rt4,,mn outstde of the county.
Wr 'fi'- onil l'r ye" will b charged to
J,"""'" ,t,oi will the ahove Urn bi d
;a nd those who don't eon in It their
,,i !Wf;.,T p-ivm In advance nuit net ex
c"'e", , n' tin- :im foiinK those who
.. : J1 "m.-t be distinctly understood from
?', ".b' ', 'rV.vj'r r,rer b"fore TOB ,toP " ,1p
i'lfPC ' r ;;e d'tt nlr' 'lo otherwise.
JAS. C. HASSON, Editor and Publish
r.
'II 18 A FRESH IN WHOM THI TRUTH MAKES FBI1, IRS itL ARK BLAVK8 BKBIDK.'
SI.50 and postage por year. In advance
VOLUME XX.
EBENSBURG, PA.. FRIDAY. MARCH 12, ISS6.
NUMBER 8.
lti- . Jt(j-IIIip i too snort
' . u ft
coy iii
to
, ' SIMPLE
i'l ; silent fcai.
n i strong m
Arm,
Principles
Ac
Self-eet-
:v lfa'e, Fcsitij Feed, 2To
j--t - .ri" Faii, Irfinimurn
;.-;";;--. Fatigue, I'o
-7 " Capacity Unlim
.Jj ;a :n Order, Richly
J7i:'elplated, and
g.::i Fe''e?i Satisfaction
AdlrMS
AVERY MACHINE CO.
813 Broadway, New York.
jThe DES7
SIR
in the World
"ir f r Inri. Whit har dT0tl their lire
i Ui rody sf "lof'sf th Berd Orfraa, th
nsltrhtr'nr Biauraetsred Orsni for Si fears.
. r c. n 1 fa,
POSITIVE Q
ar.l will not gvt oat of
Repair or Tuna
7 V
il-l-i 1' YEABS.
j3
. CRGAN 2 :at tcl- J iulo pr.rcUwinr i
- c'r-.:ri a at A .7,?.t T Of STOPS '
'-! ic Jt-r.iiS bat writo to a
iBELIlBLE
DEALER !
or Innurttoturer ,
r. ' jia at even money tLjlrtt-clau .
i:r S:c"s cr.t but a few cents each :
- c-.:r C MALOGUE and diarram '
-' i. c uction of the INTERIOR ef j
a3 SENT FREE TO ALL, nd !
'S'TS DISCOUNTS allowed whin w i
ie bo Aier.t. !
Wilcox White Organ Co. !
MERIDEH, CONN. j
Standard Wascon
ltlmrTClIM of
BCGGIES, SPIEIXO WAGONS,
KLMLIANO BUCK BOARD, No. 21.
.';,"?::-1 ?rH"rsdo sway with OIT-
I
e ,u tHe for either r!
7
s:.d i;nur to all otLers n" '
e, p.castire or Losing' rch1
y lescr.tioa. fcendfor tatalosao at. d
f
;ardTa-on Co., Cincinnati, Ol
J
OYER I0C0 000
ECTTUS SOLD AHO KEVER
RAS TO cyPE COUGHS.CCLDS.
T?RCATA.KDAU4.t'0TR0U3LE3
WiCPUtsrsrs SEULfT PRKE.
es cts.
it
i T
vv-H
.Saw:
..'- -' .
. - Vr- -
r t j1 . s'i-t
T.BARNUM'S
New
Book
' rut:
rum or at Lire."
Art ot r.:y Ofl'.t.og with
- tor Verify Mtns. U fr
ti. .tf r - m U' turf m 0-s:
if.... '"sc Jt xnriWAS
I KIN, Cincinnati, O
FAMILY SCALES
t ferret
li surpfik
ri, U.
rr-iUgVLOR COMMISSION.
r J AfiTPn 'U1UI.I. lew lol
II , LjU Mtn t. c.nvass for the sal
II "''lit Tre. (Iran, Vine, Koses. ke.
'H ,l'"'le''-e not sssi-ntlal H. .
y-F. nr.'. . ;
i sip "-yj
9tllSkl n
! UKAULt
-a. rfTTTT'TW
aV
1. 1 IV.
in ii; jew
Absolutely Pure.
Th powder never varies. A marvel of parity
trenuth and wbnlesomen;ss. More economic
than the ordinary kind", and cannot oe sold in
competition with the multitude of the low test,
short welxht, alum or thophate powders. Sold
09y in cant. Hot At. Bakiho I'owdii 00.,lu
Wall St.. New York-
PYEMIA
X lb rnewrt Tlrulcnt form of Woo 1-poison
lug. Less speedily fatal, but not less eer
iainlT so. la the Vitiation of the blood of
which the first aymptoms lire Pimple,
Btiet, Boils, and Cutaneous Ernp.
tlons. When the taint of Scrofula Rives
amlni? of Its presence bv sut h indications,
no time should be lost in usinif Atir's
BiMiPARlLli, tho onlv perfect and reli
able medicine for the j'liritk-atioa gX th
blood.
SCROFULA
It a foul rorriiii in lli l!ool that rots
out all the m:u-hnTy f Nothing
will erndii-ate it f nun ttv system and pre
Tent its transmission to ' oiVsprins; but
Ayer'9 Saksapakii.la. Thii lrrpnr.
tion li also th! only ojio that will Heause
the blood of ?! ni:'l puisou nnl the
taint of fVmt:ii' r lisc:ics. Iuipovcr
lrhed blood is jtv! ivof .
: aneriia,
A wretch' .1 iivli'.!. !i iu.il. Mtt .l tv rallld
Skin, I'laccul MiiwIm, MinttereU
Nerves, i 3!f !;inrlioly. In first
syinptoin-i .re Weakness, Iaueruor,
Ios of N rvo I-'orcc, find Mental Ie
Jectlon. lis c .;irs.', imch'i ked. leads
me it;ili!v to ins:::,i:y cr il. :ith. Women
f li'ijui nl ly M!:!- r Irtmi it. Tho only medi
cine lli:ii. v. hi!- 'iirifvin the blood, en
riches jr with i: v itulity, and iuvigorates
the wliol".- stem, U
Ayer'c Sarsaparilla,
l ::- r ai:i.i HY
Ir..T. ('. ::.rr i Co., LovtcII, Mass.
tfold by r.il Lim:gisHi l'lica $1;
ti.t lioltics for to.
mm
PeriTTt Is composed Wholly of BO- "y
Imemus vi-setaoie ingredients, eacn ens
i
!of which in acknowlgad by the medi
cal profession to be the mcl potentr' all
theheroal remedies known to medical
! science. It cures withon t f- i 1 every case) ol
il
ChrTj!cCatrrh. f onsnmptlon,
Reneral and yervonq Debility,
XenralTla, Chronic Rhenroa-
tism, Uiahetls. Stone in th
Bladder, Bright's IMsease, I)ys-
Lirer Comalalnt and
Diseases of the Stomach.
If your Drnslst is out of oor pamph
lta on the ' Ills of Life," or if ynuanj
iarorins; under a disease not mentioned
ioltorin theie advertiseraenu, address
the proprietors, 8. B. Ilartmaa A Co
lumbus, Ohio. tSio.4.)
IVIANALIN
paiion. Piles ana Inftrrh.ea.
post tl rely
cures Const i-
1 patio
ca. Koia oy bu
JdmgpisU.
Dnn dnlUr ner bottle: six for
j i 00. tirectlous ii English and German.
.
- ra
U. W. Corner Penis 4T.aal Sixth 8..
PITT8BURC, PA
Hon. W. A. Hbbrow. J. P. Asnnswa.
Pres. oi Biard ol Trusteen. Sect'y of Hoard.
The Largest, Most Thorough, Practical and Suc
cessful Cutnoaerclal tolleic fc. Kngllub Tralnins:
8-!i(K)l In Pennsylvania. S13 Students Jast year.
Klecant Hulldinrs. Mrst class Equipments. X!
Instructors. 16 Urite Halls and KecUatlon
Rooms, oeenpylns; an urea o over 10,000 S.j t.
(Copies of the finest pleeor Penmanship in th
Slat mailed f.-ee with Handbook of Sehool npoc
application in
Hi
aitiiuii 1. Williams,
Business Manager.
Jab. Clark Williams,
a. m.
Principal.
The CREAT JUMBO ENGINE
BOILER COlBI.fEI
fnce.flTUvfrvoTd
Cheapest rls; in
the market lordrl v
Ir.K lisrht machlne
rv. J ust the thln
for a'armerV nse.
Jew Oam Dealer,'
Print. r Presses,
Thresh'if Machines
fce. Manufacturer
of all kinds of Ma
chinery at Jobhlna;.
Send for talOue
jnd Price List.
H.P. HA.NKIW,
84. nt a ss
Trwiit Art..
it.tioFi'T Pa.
May li,ll.-lyi
IJr.--?' i'
PATENTS
Obtained and a H M TEXT BVSIXESSmt
tended to ft MOD ERA TE FEES
Our ffiee is opposite the U. S ratent Of
fice, and we can obtain Patent in les time
than those remote from WASTITXG TOX.
Send MODEL OR DRAWING. We ad
rlse as to patentability fret of chare? : and
we make .VO CIARGE VXLKSS PATENT
IS SECURED.
W refer, here, to the Postmaster, the
Supt. of Monev Order Dir., and to officials
of the U. 8. Putent Office. For circular, ad
sice. terms and references to actual clients
In your own SUte or County, write to
C- Am HXOW fe CO.,
Op p.
Ptnt OfBee. Waaklnctosi,
CIIEI WHIlt ALL USE IAIL1.
Bmt Couch Bjrrup. TminrmtnoA. W',
in v. iii. rutm oy ui .
n
O3
A MAID' FORLORN.
by rnr. ducitess.
"Heard it before you came down, I
dare say" chuckling.
This is almost too much. Cecil grows
as red as a rose and bites her lip. Ron
nie turns as if benton aniaihilatinir their
enemy then and there; but Mrs. Rivers
checks her by saying blandly
xou know all about him, of course.
Major Jervis. His father was a great
friend of yours. I believe."
"Ye-es." says the Major, so doubtful
ly, that Ronnie and Cecil both decide
that the late Mr. Craven suffered him
more than he regarded him.
"Have any of you seen his place yet?"
asks the Major, turning as if instinc
tively to Cecil. She colors hotly.
"W e have leeii hardly anywhere yet;
the weather has been so terrible," re
plies her mother, coming quickly to the
rescue.
"Splendid old place," savs the Major
antique, picturesque pure Gothic,
von know, and all that sort of rubbish!
The drawing-room is a study in medi
evalism, and the old china is priceless."
"Oh, yes. those beautiful old Queen
Anne cups with the tiny gold tracing!"
exclaims Cecil, leaning forward, and
forgetting in her eagerness all her words
mav eouvev to the Major.
"Kh? Vhat!" suspiciously. "I
thought you said you had not been
there. Then how did you see the china,
.aiiss i ecu eiif
"I heard of it,"
nervously.
replies Cecil, blushing
"Heard eh?
Verv arcurate descrin-
tion from mere hearsay."
"Really, Major." savs Mrs. Rivers,
half smiling, yet wholly angry, "Vcil
wtll not be pleased with you if you
doubt her word. Some day we are all
going over to sp those wonderful
things. Mr. Craven has kindly express
ed a wish that we should go and look at
the old place."
"Ah, yes. no doubC growls the Major.
"2sot that I think it would be an advis
able step on vour part, mv dear madam.
If yon will allow an old' friend of the
family to give his opinion on this sub
ject, I should sav yotmg ladies are bet
ter out of baclielors' quarters! They
are hardly suitable for young unmar
ried ladies, I should think. jJetter at
home, eh? But. of course, my dear
madam, you are the best jud ire' of all
that."
"Yes, I think so," returns Mrs. Riv
ers, a little haughtily: but this terrible
old man is not to be rebuked.
"No offense," he savs. "A word in
season, you know; and er my voting
friend Craven is rather a eay "fellow
nothing very much against him. you
know, niv dear madam, only young
men will be voting men to the eiid of
the chapter!' Ha ha!"
His words mean nothing, his manner
a great deal. A vague shadow as of
cominar grief falls upon the heart of
Mrs. Rivers as she turns almost instinc
tively to look at her pretty Cecil.
Her pretty Cecil is looking utterly
unconcerned, and is simply regarding
Major Jerris with a glance suggestive
'of irM iff ere nee and contempt. Mrs.
'Rivers sighs, and wonders inwardly
whether she is doing a wise thing in al
lowing this acquaintance with Duke
Craven to ripen into a friendship nay.
into something that may prove even
warmer than friendship, and more capa
ble of bearing fruit either of joy or sor
row what it' it should le sorrow? Aft
er all, what do they know about this
young man Craven.-' He has fallen into
their lives by the merest chance, and is
literally unknown to them beyond the
fact that he is of good family and has a
house and some considerable property.
Of his character or his usual habits
they have learned absolutely nothicg.
Anil even now is not the Major throw
ing out hints of a most unpleasant nat
ure about him?
Meanwhile Ronnie is cross-questioning
Major Jervis about Craven Court.
Yes, it is a capital place," he says,
"but draughty very, and haunted into
the bargain."
"Haunted! How delicious!" Cissy
cries, clasping her hands. "Do tell us
all about it, Major?"
Whereupon the Major, who dearly
loves the sound of his own voice, gives
them a most extraordinary account of
his pursuit of Cecil on that memorable
evening now more than a week ago. He
has hardly finished his highly colored
recital when, to the surprise of all,
Craven again enters the room.
"I really must beg your pardon," says
the young man, blushing ingenuously.
"Rut not until I had reached home,
Mrs. Rivers, did I remember about that
address for which you so wished. I
have it with me now. As I was going
to Carbery" a village some three miles
away"I thought I might as well drop
in again and leave it with you."
"Much better," answers Ronnie, gra
ciously. "Ah, Major; knew I should find you
here!" says Duke, genially. "I hope
you are making yourself agreeable."
"What an absurd question!" cries
Ronnie. "When is the Major anything
else? Just now, too. he is making him
self more than usually charming, be
cause he is telling us ghost-stories.
Think of that!"
"Just that little adventure of mine
the other evening," says the Major,
airily. "Nothing much, you know; but
of Course it is something to have been
face to face with a real ghost."
"Something! Everything!" exclaims
Cecil- "Weren't you frightened to
death, Major?"
"Not I, indeed! By Jove," he says,
looking fixedly at Cecil, "I have it!
There was a certain familiarity about
that ghost that puzzled me at the time;
I thought it resembled somebody, but
could not make out whom. Now I
know. It was you."
Mrs Rivers looks a little nervous,
and Cecil and Craven break into merry
laughter, instantaneous and irrepies-
"I think it is very unkind
says C.ssy, presently, with
imnrh . "to compare me to
of you,"
a little;
a horrid
ghost!" . . ...
"Rut the figure was marvelously like
yours." persists the Major, in a puzzled
tone, "and the side-face too.
"The storv grows more thrilling every
instant," observes Ronnie..- "I do hope,
Cecil thaty wril not imitate your
ghostly fetch and dissolve away into a
gentle dew." . . - ; . .
-Don't you feel very uncomfortable.
Miss Rivers?" asks Craven, addressing
Cissy.
-'orat1pr flattered than otherwise.
A very little mere thought on the sub
ject would make me imagine I was the
actual heroine of the story the Major
has so kindly told us."
-Well. I must le going says the
Major, rising. "You will come wah
me. Craven?"
"I am going to Carbery," returns
Craven, evasively.
"So am I." savs the Major, determin
edly and so, sorely against his will, the
young man is compelled to rise from
fiis comfortable lounge, and follow him.
t1IAPTF.Il VI.
V month has flown swiftly by. Al
ready the earth is whispering of spring,
the trees are budding, the grass is
throwing out fresh green shoots; and
indeed all Nature is lifting up its head
and rejoicing as "Spring rx.me. up this
wiv "
" To Cecil this past month has ln-en
one of intense happiness; to Ronnie one
of unrest, though perhaps not altogeth-
er painful. Sir Sydney Waleott has
been abroad, summoned there to attend
the death-bed of a rich relative, but his
letters have not ceased. and. though calm
as the first she received from him at
Branksmere, have leen at least undevi
ating in their constancy.
Mrs. Rivers, however, has been seri
ously uneasy. The hint dropped by the
Major about Duke Craven's not being
all one could desire in the way of steadi
ness has lingered in her mind ever
since, and tormented her by day and by
nisiht. This doubt, too. has leen con
fined perforce to her own breast, as the
Major returned to town the day after
he had sown the seeds of distrust in her
breast, and to Cecil or Ronnie she would
not talk on such a subject.
Craven's evident admiration for Cecil
is apparent to all eyes so apparent
that Mrs. Rivers longs daily for the
hour that will see him present himself
as her open suitor. But that day has
not yet come, and misgivings oppress
her m spite of her determination to
have patience and let things take their
proper course.
By nature a nervous woman, she is
now doubly so. on account of her de-
Sendence lipon her uncle, Sir Gregory.
he would gladly see her girls married
comfortably ana beyond the power of
any whim of his to hurt them. She is
anxious, too, about Cecil. The girl, she
can see, has given her whole heart to
this acquaintance of only six weeks.
She is blindly, utterly happy when with
him which is dangerously often and
plainly trusts him entirely.
Just now Craven is with her in the
drawing-room, and both are standing
in the big bay-window counting the
pretty snowdrops that are coming up
one bv one. Duke is not talking. He
is. indeed, almost deaf to what Cecil is
saying, so rapt is lie in contemplation
of her own fair self.
She is dressed in a gown of dark
brown velvet, trimmed with coffee-colored
lace at the throat anil wrists, and
is looking more than usually lovely.
Presently she becomes aware that he is
not listening to her, and turning to him,
tells him so, with a pretty show of petu
lance. "I confess mv crime," he says, quick
ly, his voice lull of eager passion. "How
could I think of any tiling but you when
you are opposite to me' Your voice.
Indeed, is sweet; but you are even
sweeter. No, I heard nothing. I could
only see."
"See what?" she asks, with an attempt
at gavety, though she has grown a little
paie "because of his manner, which is
strangely unlike his usual calm self.
"You. "my "dainty riel' my darling!"
he whispers quickly. The words come
from him almost involuntarily; almost
unconsciously too he takes fier hand
and holds it closely. Cissy colors faint
ly, and then grows even paler than she
was before.
"Why do yon call me that?" she says.
"Why? Yon have no right to no '"'
He interrupts her by a gesture, and
draws her even nearer to h;m.
"Give me the right." he says eacrerly.
"You know you must know by th'is
time that there is nothing in the'world
I love so well as " '
"Major Jervis." announces a servant j
at this supreme moment, throwing wide
the drawmcr-rooin door.
With a smothered exclamation, Crav- i
en lets Cecil's hand drop, and, turning !
aside, steps through the open window ,
on to the small veranda outside, which !
by stone steps leads to the ground. Dp- !
scendiug these, he goes quickly out of !
s:ght, but not belore the Major has had :
time to catch a glimpse of his depart- I
inr coat-tails. I
"Hum! hah!" says the Major. He has j
hardly had time to return Cecil's some- ,
what coll greeting when Mrs. Rivers 1
and Ronnie enter the room. There are j
signs of very distinct irritation about I
the Major. He blows his nose some- j
what effusively, and refuses to let his
eves meet those of anyone else present.
"I think I saw Craven going out of that j
window just asl came in," he says, star- 1
ing at Cecil. !
"Yes," she returns, slowly; her mind '
is still full of Duke, and she is wonder- !
ing what it was exactly that he was go- I
ing to say when interrupted by this !
troublesome Major. j
"He didn't expect me down to-day,"
the Major goes on. "Thinks me safe
at home at this moment, no doubt."
Again he looRs at Cissy, as if expect- j
ing lier to answer. He is in truth curi-
ous to know if Duke saw him coming
or heard him announced by the servant,
and, if so, whether he ran away to avoid
the bore of having to speak to him.
"He will be all the more delighted to
see vou at the Court, of course." says
Ronnie, ironically. "Surprises of that
sort are so pleasantl"
"Quite so." and the Major directs a
withering glance at her. "Fact is, I
hardly knew 1 was coming down my
self until this morning. But business .
must le attended to, you know. Busi
ness for the fair sex especially ha. ha!
I've come indeed to carry Craven back
to town with me. I bring a letter from
his cousin. Lady Maud Esterdale, de
manding his immediate attendance."
"Who is this Cousin Lady Maud?"
asks Cecil, quickly.
"Oh, don t you know?" inquires the
Major. "It's not quite settled, I be
lieve; but "
"What is not quite settled?" demands
Cecil again. She is quite calm but
deathly pale.
"His marriage," says the Major, quiet
ly. It is true Ihat he shifts a little un
easily in his seat as he says this, and re
fuses to lift his eyes from the carpet;
but nevertheless ne savs it. '
A dead silence ensues a silence short :
in reality, but of intolerable length to j
some in "the room. Then Cecil laughs ;
quite a natural little laugh, too; so
natural, indeed, that both her mother i
and Ronnie turn involuntarily to look
at her.
"He is rather a scamp in some ways."
continues the Major, in a genial way.
"Now if you asked him about this mar
riage, it is as likely as not he would
deny all knowledge of it, and declare he
was never further from matrimony in
his life. But don't you be taken in by
him. He is a disgraceful fellow in the
way of flirtations; makes love all round,
you know, to every woman he meets,
and makes some of "em believe him,
too. But he's not a bad young fellow
at heart. No.no far from that. But
this marriage now will be a good thing
for both of them; she with title, he
with monev."
"A charming arrangement indeed!"
says Cecil, without so much aa a quiver
of her eyelids.
"Well, it is rather premature vet to
speak about it," pursues the "Nlajor.
"Craven mightn't like it. you know; so
don't mention my name m the matter
as having been the one to tell of it.
You see, he is such a great f riend here
that I dare say he will wish to le him
self the first to tell you of it."
"Of course he would like to tell us
himself," returns Cecil, siml.ng calmly.
"As you say, he is a great friend of ourSj
and ne knows we will le glad to hearoi.
anything likely to add to his happiness.
The Major watches her closely as she
makes this set little speech, and siie as
closely returns his fixed gaze. Then,
with a'somewhat troubled and baffled
expression on his face, he rises and bids
them "good-bye" for the present. When
the tloor has shut Itehind him. Ronnie
tarns vehemently to Cecil.-
"I don't behove one word of it, she
says hastily "not one! He looks as if
he were telling a falsehood."
"I saw no trace of falsehood either in
his I'm k or tone."" answers Cecil; in a
snaun. tone. "ait. ;:s for the rest.i be
lieve every word he said."
She moves toward the door; her
mother, with tears in her eyes, rises as
if to follow her, but with a gentle gest
ure the girl prevents her.
"I want to be alone, mamma," she
says entreat ingly. "just for a little while;
I shall be all right then. But there is
one thing you fan do for me." she cries,
breaking suddenly out of her terrible
quiet. "Never-never mention his
name to me again!"
Poor Mrs. Rivers is thoroughly cast
down, and Ronnie scarcely less so.
"How shall we receive him if he calls
to-morrow?" asks her mother, when
poor Cecil has crept away from them
up to her own room to cry her heart
out on her lteil.
4.1 ust as if nothing had happened.
Cecil, of course, will not apiear. I will
make her go for a walk at that hour, so
that we can truly say she is not in.
Mamma, if only for Cecil's sake, do not
let him see we care about this thing."
So the next day, when Craven calls at
his usual hour, Mrs. Rivers is as nearly
as possible the same to him that she
has been during the past month. Per
haps some subtle change in her manner
might be noticed by a very acute ob
server, some vague irrepressible shrink
ing from all more open cordiality; but
beyond this her demeanor is perfect.
As for Ronnie, she is a degree more
sad than angry. She maintains an al
most utter silence; but every now and
then Craven, glancing at her, wonders
vaguely why her eyes are so large and
mournful, her whole manner so full of
an uncertain depression.
His wonder on this point, however,
is indeed vague, as his whole mind is
filled with a longing to see a particular
lounging-chair near the tire occupied
by a little lissome figure whose smile is
wont to beam at him, half roguishly,
half with a tenderness not to be de
scribed. "Where is she now his little
sweetheart?
"Where is Miss Cecil?" he asks at last,
unable to restrain his impatience any
longer.
"She has gone for a walk, I think,"
replies Mrs. Rivers, stooping to poke
the lire.
"Let me do that for you," says Crav
en, taking the poker from her. "She
has gone to the garden, jiorhaps." lie
is kneeling on the hearth-rug. and is
looking very earnestly up into Mrs.
Itivers's face, with his pleasant honest
eyes.
"I think not certainly not she did
not say ev;:ctl v where she was going,"
returns Mrs. Rivers, evasively.
Ronnie at this sighs- audibly, and
Craven, turning, looks at her sharply.
Something in her expression evidently
strikes him as being peculiar, but he
says nothing, and presently turns the
conversation into another channel.
"1 have a friend coming to stay with
me next week." he says "a friend of
yours, too. I think. I "net him in Lon
don, and he almost asked me to invite
him down. Be said he knew you all
very well."
"I dare say. We lived some years in
town," responds Mrs. Rivers, indiffer
ently. "One gets to know so many peo
ple there."
Ronnie evinces no curiosity either
about the new arrival at the Court; so
Mr. Craven goes on
"i'm rather sorry he is coming just I
now. as 1 am bound to be in town in I
the morning, and sha'n't be able to be
back for a fortnight. I am afraid there
fore he will have only a slow time of
it."
lie rises to go- as he does so, Ronnie
rises too, and follows him into the hall.
"1 think." she says, in a tone that
falters slightly "I think Cssy went in
the direction of the beech-wod."
Before he has lime to thank her for
this hint or wonder at the strangeness
of her manner, she has disappeared;
and, somewhat puzzled. Craven makes
his way toward the wood she has men
tioned. Just as he enters it, he encounters
Cecil coming toward b in, her head
slightly bent, her face rather paler than
usual.
"How d'ye do?" she says, quite calm
ly, but without an accompanying smile.
Jhe lets her hand lie in tus unsympa
the tically, and then draws it away al
most belore lie has time to know it was
there.
"I was unfortunate to-day. I thought
j I should have found vou within" with
I an attempt at cordiality, though some
; inward m;sgiv.ngs have cast a shadow
, on his usual lighi-heartedness.
I "1'or the future. 1 think you must not
j expect always to find me in," she re
; plies, with a faint smile,
t "Whv?" he asks, astonished at her
whole treatment of him.
"Because winter is at an end. and the
fine weather tempts one to go out," she
says, coldly.
"For that reason one loves the fine
weather," he returns, striving against
his growing anxiety. "May 1 not some
times accompany you in your rambles?"
"No. I think not. When I go for a
walk in these quiet woods. I pcefer my
own company to any one s. A strange
fancy, and rather egotistical, is it not.''"
"It is very unlike vou" gravely; then,
unable to control Iiis uneasiness any
longer, he savs, anxiously, "What has
happened that you treat ine like this?
napi
Win
it have t done to you ;
"Done
to me.'" haughtily. Noth-
I am going to town this evening,
Cecil, I shall not be back until "
"I must ask yon not to call me
"Cecil."" says the girl, quietly, and with
a certain amount of dignity. "I must
always le "Miss Rivers' to gentlemen
acquaintances." "Am I only that? Only an acquaint
ance?" There is a world of reproach in his
totie.
"Yes. only that" remorselessly.
"And yet "yesterday "
"Do not speak of yesterday!" she ex
claims, putting up her hand impulsive
ly, as though to ward off something
tbat is hurting her.
"As you will, of course." he returns,
in a tone nearly as cold as her own. "I
have no claim, of course, to be consid
ered even a friend. May I say good
bye to you, and let you finish your walk
in peace? I am going away this even
ing." II Where are you going?"
"To my aunt Lady Eton."
"Ah. to your cous.n. Lady Maud!"
"Yes, if you like. Who "was telling
you of it? The Major?"
"Yes, the Major. lie told me every
thing." "I don't know when I shall be back."
"Soon enough, no doubt. What are
you going for the wedding?"
"Yes. for the wedding." He speaks
in a verv low, depressed tone, because
of her cruel coldness. To her his de
pression means only shame at the dis
covery she has made.
"When is it to be?" she asks, slowly.
"Next week."
"So soon? It is sudden, is it not?"
"Not very; I have known of it for
some months."
"You knew of it before we came
here?"
"Oh, yes: long before that! I wish
vou knew Maud she is a verv nice girl,
and I am sure she would be a great
friend of yours."
"I am equally sure she would not. I
hate nice girls!" says Cecil, with sudden
and most unlooked-for vehemence.
"Surely they are better than nasty
ones, at all events!" he returns, some
what aggrieved.
"I don't know. At all events" den
antlr "I don't care to hear anything
more about either you or Lady Aiaua.
Silence follows this outburst a si
lence that lasts until thev reach the
small path that leads to the avenue.
"I think you are hardlv kind to me,"
he says then, gently. "And I don't un
derstand you at all."
"No" in a very low tone "I dont
wonder at that. There are times"
bitterly "when I can not understand
myself. "Well, shall 1 say then that I
wish your Lady Maud joy ?"
"Thank you. I shall give my cousin
that message," he answers, gravely;
then, holding out his hand, "Good-bye.
"Good-bye" stonily.
"1 shall not see you again for some
time," Craven goes on, wistfully.
"Don't let that trouble you," she re
turns, with a little heartless laugh that
certainly has no mirth in it.
-Does that mean that you do not care
ever to see me again?" he demands, his
face darkening.
"It means whatever vou like." she an
swers, icily, though at'this moment she
would have given half her life to be
able to llmg herself into his arms and
cry her heart out upon his breast.
"No; you shall teli me what you real
ly mean now at once!" he declares,
sternly, compelling her to face him. "Is
it that you honestly hope never to see
me again?"
"Yes, that is my honest hope," she re
turns, calmly, her face deathly pale.
"Ah!" He draws his breath quickly,
and for a moment his own face, rivals
hers in pallor. "You shall not betwred
by me in the future," he savs, slowly.
"1 shall not trouble this part of the
world much again as long as it shall
please you to remain in it."
So saying, he turns from her. and,
with bitter anger in bis heart, strides
rapidly through the woodland, and is
soon lost to sight amidst the shadows
of the coming night.
CnATTER VII.
A miserable week, fraught with bit
ter grief for Cecil and even bitterer dis
appointment, goes slow ly by. No one
has said a word to her about her faith
less lover, no one has even ventured to
mention his name in her presence; but
just now, when stie and Ronnie are
standing alone in the pretty morning
room, lionnie goes up to her and places
her arm around her neck. The girl is
impelled to do this because of tlie for
lorn expression upon Cecil's face, and i
her disconsolate attitude. She is lean- j
ing against the shutter of the window,
and great tears are shining in her
mournful eyes.
As Cecil does not repulse her. Ronnie
is emboldened so far as to lay her soft
cheek against her sister's; and, being
still further encouraged, as no rebuff
has followed on this overture, she whis
pers, tenderly
"Do not Ite so sad. darling. It will be
better by ami bve. Time cures all
things."
"lias it cured vou?" asks Cecil, with
a little catch in her breath.
"Nearly. I think." replies Ronnie,
with a heavy sigh that Iteliesher words.
"Do you liiean to tell me" glancing
reproachfully at Ronnie "that you
have ceased to long and hope and pray,
for Sydney's return?"
"I think so I hope so," answers Ron
nie. But as she says this there are tears
in her voice and eyes.
"It is not trne," "says Cecil, regarding
her fixedly. "You love him still in spite
of everything."
"Why should I love him?" demands
Ronnie, with much agitation. "Why
should I let one thought of him find
harbor in my breast? lie has forgotten
me has rubbed me out of his life with
out even a passing pang. I hope." she
cries earnestly, "1 shall never see Syd
ney Waleott again."
"Sir Sydney Walctt," announces a
servant, almost as she ceases speaking,
and then both girls become aware that
the door is open, and that the young
man upon the threshold has in all proba
bility neard every word of Ronnie's
passionate little speech.
Cecil, advancing to cover her sister's
confusion, greets him kindly. Ronnie,
who bas turned first pale and then red,
and finally pale again to the very lips,
comes toward him now. and gives him
her hand in silence; then, summoning
all t lie courage she possesses to her aid,
tells him in a conventional tone that it
is really quite a pleasure to see him
again.
This remark is so palpablv insincere
that the young man she addresses for
gets to make any immediate reply, and
only stares at her in a reproachful fash
ion. He is of mi'ldle height, with a quiet,
kindly expression, and a manner pleas
ant, if a little languid. When they
have all seated themselves, he makes
no attempt at promoting conversation,
and even while answering the questions
put to him apiears very far away from
them all in spirit. It is quite evident
to Cecil that iiisthoughtsare elsewhere,
and that he is in the very lowest of low
spirits. Presently she rises, with the express
ed intention of seeking her mother, and,
in spite of a beseeching glance from
Ronnie, deliberately quits the room.
Almost as the door closes behind her.
Sir Svdney, rising from his seat, goes
over "to the hearth-rug, and standing
' opposite to Ronnie, leans his arm upon
the mantel-piece and gazes down upon
i her.
"I hope Cecil will not return for some
time." 1m savs, slowly, "because I have
a great deal'to tell you. What was it
you were saving just as I came in?
That 1 had forgotten yon rubbed you
out of my life eh?"
"Well, was it not true?" asks Ronnie
nervously, twining her lingers idiy to
gether. "There could hardly be anything less
true: but let that pass. You said also
if I remember rightly that you hoped
you would never see me again. N't as
that also true?"
"If you won't believe mo in one in
stance. 1 suppose you won't in anoth
er," savs Ronnie, evasively. "And yet
I think it ought to be true."
"Well, it isn't," returns Sir Sydney.
"1 don't bebeve a word of it. I won't;
so vou need not sav it again." Then;
suddenly "I've been abroad, you know.
Mv uncle is dead."
"I am verv sorry." begins Ronnie.
"Don't be." I'm not." answers Wal
eott, calmly. "He was as disagreeable
an old beirT.ir as anv one could -possibly
' meet. However, i forgive him. He "
died and left me all his money."
"I congratulate you." says Ronnie,
icilv.
"It is a case for congratulation, cer
tainly," he replies, cooliy. "And yet
something is lacking to sue that damps
all mv prosperity. That tinio last
spring, when we were iu town together.
I wrts nvserablv poor.' Nobivlv knew
it. I tiiirtk at least. I hope Id itln't look
poor. But there were anv amount of
debts that should have "wen paid off.
incurred bv mv Weil, never mind that;
I paid them ihey wece debts of honor;
but the paving crrppled me so much
that I was afraid to ask you to marry
me in those davs. Now I am not- 1
have got the title, you see, and the
estntes. and and thai."
"The title!" repeats Ronnie, in a low
ton.
"Yes. My nncle was Earl of Errmg
ton. and there wasn't any son to inherit.
That was my luck, you knw."
"I suppose I ought to tell you ' again
how glad I am of your"
"Say nothing of the kind; say onlv
you are glad to see me. Ronnie" with
an utter change of tone "my dearest
love, tell me you will marry me as soou
as vcu can."" '.
When Mrs. Rivers and Cissvcamein- :
to the rttoni. a tew minutes later, they i
liud Ronnie standing on the hearth-rug j
with Lord Errington's arm round her, I
and a smile upon her mobile lips that I
has been absent from them for many a j
day. A few words explain everything, I
and then the future Countess is caress-
ed and made much of bv her mother !
and sister for a little while. j
"I had no idea that vou were the
friend who was coming to stav at the 1
Court," says Mrs. Rivers, presently, I
smiling at Errington. j
"No? Didn't Craven tell vou? T
Chose a rather peculiar time "for my
Tisit," he adds. with alittle laugh "just
when Craven was about this wedding."
"Yes, yes." savs Ronnie, in an agony.
In vain she tries to think of something
to say that will turu the conversation
into another channel.
"Very pretty girl. La.lv Maud," he
goes on, unsuspecting; "and enormous
fortune. I think mvst-lf she is rather
throwingherself a way upon McGregor!"
"Upon whom?" asks Ronnie, breath
lessly. Cecil, who has placed one hand
upon the back of a chair to support her
self, is looking at Sydney with all her
soul in her eyes.
"McGregor," he repeats carelessly.
"He's a sort of distant cousin of hers,
and really nothing much in anyway.
Bnt she likes him. and has married him
the wedding took place on Thursday
in spite of everv one."
"This is dreadful!" says Ronnie, in a
frightened tone. She 'would perhaps
have said a great deal more: but Er
rington with a smothered exclamation, j
goes quickly forward, and catches Cecil (
in his arms. She has not quite fainted,
but for a minute or two is compelled to j
lie passive in his arms, her breath '
coming and going in little fitful gasps.
After awhile she opens her eyes, and
tries to smile, and murmurs feebly that J
it is only the heat nothing more; that I
she is very foolish, and so on.
"You are not foolish, and it is not the i
heat!" cries Ronnie, with tearful indie- I
nation. "It isonly that hateful Major!" ,
After this, everything is explained to j
Errington, who looks as concerned and ,
is really as distressed as any one could !
possibly desire. " I
"Do not let us talk anv more about it, j
Ronnie." says poor Cecil, at last. "It !
is all over, and it was all my own fault. !
and I will not have Sydney worried ;
about my grievances. 1" shall go for a
walk in the beech-wood and try to leave
my troubles there behind me."" ,
She smilesa little wmtery simile asshe
says this. and. softly beckon, ng to her
mother, thev bo:h go out of the room,
leaving the lovers alone.
Down the bare leat'-stivwn path goes
Cecil, her mind full of bitter thoughts.
Entering the wood, she strays deep into
it. thinking always qf that, last day
when she was there with luni. and when
she had fo willfully put from her the
one chance of happiness she most de
sired. Two tears -spring into ht-r violet
eyes and linger there. They do not
lall,tnit shine like twin stars'in the last
bjptvms of the sinking sun.
She has now reached the very spot
where last she saw Vr. :vcn. Up to this
she had Ik-n walking with bent head;
but now. lifting her eyes, she looks
around her. As her glance slow ly trav
els from tree to tree, her sadness in
creases. Now she is looking wistfully
at the little babbling brook in the dis
tance, and now at the mossy hillock be
yond, and now
Who is that coming toward her? Her
heart stops beating for a moment, and
then thrchs frantically. It is Craven,
looking sad and careworn and lull of
dejection. Ashe sees her.be checks
Limself for an instant, and then comes
resolutely onward. Flinging away the
cigar he lias been smoking, he stops just
before Cecil. He does not offer to shake
bauds with her, but stands regarding
l.er fixedly.
"You!" he says at length. "What bas
brought you here?"
"I don't know: I wanted to come here
I" She feels a bttle choking sensa
tion in her throat, and stops, unable tc
proceed.
"I didn't mean to come back again so
soon." says Craven, who has never once
removed his eyes from her face, while
she. on the cunirary. has not had the
courage to lift hers to his.
"1 thought you meant never to come
back." she answers in a low, husky
tone.
"So I did but" bitterly "vou see I
could not help myself; vou ought to be i
proud of that, ought vou not?" i
"Oh. do not speak tome in that tone!" I
she entreats, at last letting her eyes 1
meet liis. and he can see the heavy tears
lurking in their soft depths. i
"How would yon have me speak to j
you?" he asks, reproachfully, but not so
coldlv as a moment since. "When last
we met you scorned my advances, and
told me that you hoped never to see me
again; and that, too, at a time wuen l
was consumed with a desire to ten you ,
bow I loved you how that every
thought of my heart was yours."
"Ah, if you" could only understand," j
she murmurs desperately. i
"Understand what?" eagerly. "Cecil
speak to me. teli nie w hat you mean." i
"Major Jervis said you were going to j
be married to your cousin. Lady Maud," I
Bavs Cecil, in a stifled tone. )
'"The old scoundrel." be mutters, f
"Was that why you behaved so cruelly j
to me on that "wretched afternoon?" he 1
asks presently, vhen his wrath has I
somewhat subsided. 1
"Yes" shvly.
"And and now you know the whole )
truth do vou love me. Cecil?"
"I do" still more shyly. 1
"Mv dearest heart!" murmurs Craven: j
and tben somehow she finds herself in 1
his arms with her head against his t
breast, and knows that she is utterly j
and entirely happy.
"What misery I have endured since i
we parted!" savs Craven, altera little (
while. "It is 'quite a year ago now;
isn't it?" '
"A year! A week," she corrects, lift- i
ing her brows. j
"Oh, noiisi-nse! It might le a centurv ,
at least," he says. "Wril. you shall
never know whai unhappiness means i
again, if 1 tan help it," he adds, tender- ;
lv.
" Then they wend their way slowly
homewards. In the hall they meet
Mis. Rivers, who regards them, natural
ly enough, with astonishment: and they
have hardly explained matters sat's
factoriiy to" her when Ronnie and Er
rington join inem, "alien n nas an to
be s;tid over again on loth sides.
Whilst they are in the very midst of
their double congratulation, one of
the servants, coiii.ng in;o the little
morning-room where thpy have seated
themselves, tells them that Major Jer
vis is in the drawing-room.
"I'll go to him." says Ronnie, rising;
-you are too nervous to-day . mamma,
and fii'f. eyes are pink she has evi
dently been enjoying heiseif excessively-
with Duke."
With this, nnd a little laugh, site
rustles out- of the room and into the
next by a folding tloor, winch divides
the two rooms from each other. There
stie finds the Major.
When. he. has gone through the ordi
nary questions a'oout her own and her
mother's !n;l sister's ltealth, he says,
somewhat jerkily
Tv-en our friend Craven lately?"
"Yes. to-dav. But he is not so inter
estin '. I think, .is he used to Ire."
"Hal How is that?" asks the Major,
in a U ;i;,l".tti lone.
" i ". l e i engaged, you see," an
rwectM !Nh m e. Hsil reluctantly, "and
MMing """aged are young men
l,,f . -ai -vina entertaininc
goes. You kiiuw you gave us a hint
about his being bent on getting married
without delay when la-d yon were down.
We have discovered that your surmise
was correct."
"Eh rh?" he snvs. fidgeting anxious
ly in his chair. "But 1 w as wrong then.
I alluded to his cousin. Lady Maud; but
she has married McGregor'since that.
May I ask whom Rumor has given him
to now?"
"Well, to Cecil, I believe!" returns
Ronnie, with provoking unconcern.
Th;s is a death-blow. The Major
turns pale, ami blows his nose violently
to cover his chagrin.
"Ah. Rumor is a worthless jade!" r
says, with a miserable attempt at dis
belief in her news. "As a rule, she tells
more lies than truth."
"This time she has varied it." returns
Ronnie, "by telling more truth than
lies. My sister and Mr. Craven bave
quite made up their minds and are en
gaged to each' other."
"1 don't N-lieve it!" cries the Major,,
rising to his feet.
At this intant the folding doors are
flung open, and Craven, appearing on
the scene most unexpected i v, enters,
leading Cecil by the hand. He draws
her gently forward, until they both
stand letore the discomfited Major.
"Major Jervis won't believe you are
going to be married," says Ronnie, with
a little laugh.
"Oh. yes, I am! Am I not. Cecil?"
asks Duke, glancing down lovingly at
his Itetrothed. who laughs a little too
and blushes dec-ply.
"You will come to their wedding,
won't you, Major?" asks Ronnie, mis
chievously. The Major, though overpowered by
numbers, still lets his evil humor bave
full sway.
"With pleasure." he replies, with an
ill grace. And then, maliciously, "Only
sorry I can't come to yours too. Miss
Ronnie."
"Dont be sorrv another instant.
Major." says Lord Errintrton. pleasant
ly; he has come up to them unnoticed
by Jervis. "Ronnie and I will le only
too glad if you will promise to dance s.t
our wedding also. It w-ill be quite
simple, you know, as we all intend to
Ik married on the same day from
the same house."
"Very charming arrangement. I'm
pure!" returns the defeated Major. "It
would be quite superfluous to offer my
congratulations. You all know exactly
how I feel towifd you."
lie smil'-s cri-jinl y as he says this.
"Yes. wTaTf'kno"w that," rejoins Er
ringtotii with emphasis.
"Dear nie!" saysihe Major, pulling
out his vr.t'-h. "It grow s very fate. I
shall miss the up-tram if I don't make
haste. Good-bye. good-bye!"
"Stay and sleepat the Court to-night "
savs Craven, hospitably, if a trifle cold
ly." "No. thank yon tio. I am bound to
be in town to-night."
"Why. where are you going in such
led haste?" asks Craven, curiously.
"I'm I'm going abroad!" declares
the M j-t. desperately; alter which he
s-h'ttTl'-s out of the room, anil is lost to
sight lor in.tnv a dav .
'"Poor Major!" says Cecil. "How dis
concerted lie h-C-ked! I know he rie
served anything bad. but I couldn't
heir, feeling sorry for him."
"lie is unworthy of mmit pity," an
swers CraTen. ira ing her away from
the others into lite deep embrasure of
the -u in iow. "Did lie not ven nearly
take vou from me?"
" Would t hat have leen su- h a terrible
th ng':' sh" asks, with an upward
glance, and a Very pardonable touch of
coquetry.
"Of 1. what a question!" he returns,
repi oichtuily.
i think Vou put it wrongly." says
Cissy, softly". "I think lie meant to take
you from me."
"Would that have bec-nsuch attrrible
thing?" he asks, in his turn, with a lit
tle smile.
"1 don't know. Would it?" she ques
tions, tremulously.
"My love my life it woull have
been death." says Craven, with passion
ate earnestness. Turning to her, he
takes her into his arms and holds her
close claspeil against his heart, where
indeed her proper home most surely ia.
TV b ContimuJ
Prealrfent FCilot'e Patient.
At President Eliot eat In his WJCtnrfl ha
"Cfclversity Hail brjoily at work, his aeer
tary came In and announced that fber
Wais a man ontside who wsu anxious to
se the president of Harvard University on
some urgent business. Other matters were)
rmt aside and the strajiger was shown tlx.
Hat proved to be a man of middle ajre, was
fjrom the vvest apparently, ecd had a way
j f going right to the point. He began by
looking trie president over and "wiring Dim
op."
'Are you Dr. Eliot, the pr13. sr
Harvard Colleger"
I am, sir."
"The head o' the hall thingr
Ye."
"President & the scientific schowir
WI am."
"President o the law swhoolf
'Yes, sir."
President o" the medical sohool
Ye".." That's It, then," staid the -risJawr, "aa'
Tve come to the right place, aad you're
the man I want to eee. I'm from the
Wert, an Tve come morVn 1,000 srjJJes.
Money ain't no object to me."
He rose with (Treat enttrewiaam and
stripped off his coat and waistcoat.
Iv'e not something the matter with
me, doctor," he went on. "Ira been a
troublm" of me for years, an' I'm bound
to find otrt what It R Money afn't do
object, aa I taid. I w&ct you to examine
my cheit, an' I don't ear v v.at It eoeta.
Here we go."
The president had some difarnrtv la ex
plaining, the situation, but finally fuc
ceeded ia turcrng his patient o-r to a
professor of the Medicnl Sthool. There la
an Impression at the eoilepre than this IncW
dent is the most srenulne tribute ot adnilrav
tion that Harvard has received for some
time.
A Forcoltsn Trsnsirlien.
j Brown I beiiee I owe you a dollar,
j Smith, and there's the money,
j Smith dnkln the money! Are yon
( sure Brown, don't rtmeniVr anything
abont it.
T i txjtl im- r-r,rlStv T'm r 1.
' taken. I was under the Imprevd-ni that
! 1 "
Smith hastllyl Oh. yes. rone to ihtuk
about it, you did torrow n rt'.'r of n.e.
! It was a week n;o lat Tuc.dy ev'.l-ip-. rt
1 eight mltiute of won Y-u u;d yon
1 wanted it for a sneiclal pun-os-, nttd I p.v-
it to you is silver a .'.n'.f.
a ci;i.-.rt r, t v o
tens. Mid a five th, yc. tnnrti t :.g -n.
old man, but I had fin gotten ;:!1 afcottt it.
Ttic even Wnilr,
Th" ;ern wonlTs of the world are
or were the "olouaof Rhodes now dav
Mroye!; the Manso'cnm era-tod by
Ait -n in memory of her hndVai-1. ol
y. I.ich : i,e r-i5ts r.-mn'n ; the Pyrrmd l of
t'h-i.il tJhi-eh: 'he Temple of Iltarta
nt !-. h .: i he I'itaro a: Alexandria t
t
!l;a.- "l g
irdrTin :il Mtt1
vl i;i ; and
V Piiidi-ia.
i '
A Kentucky man
week while taking a
for n Kef ttu ki in to
: never c '. -i '
died tmddenlT laft
bath. It is no us)
fool with witter; ha
t
! !
Mrlabluw. M. r.
V-an.-
.. - w.
awe Bar .;.-
owi'vs - A r?o uGn