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10
A FATAL PAST,
By DORA RUSSELL.
Amthor of “Footprints is the Snow,” “The Brokex Seal,” The “Track or the
Storm,” “A Bitter Birthright,” Etc., Etc.
[ALL RIGHTS RESERVED .]
CHAPTER XXL
ANOTHER climate.
An ili-’.uck wouU have it, Lord Ennis
more was lust leaving his own door at
Grosvenor Place when Lady Ennismore
drove up to it, and his surprise was very
great to see her in a hansom cab.
“Why, Katie!” he said, at be handed her
out, “how on earth do you come to be in a
cab?”
“I have been to see L"rimer,” she an
swered, so nervously and in such confusion
that Lord Ennismnre was mure astonished
still; and as he glanced quickly at her face
he saw her eyelids were swollen and marked
by recent tears.
“My dear, what is the matter?” be asked,
anxiously and kindly, “you’ve not been cry
ing, Katie, surely V'
“Lorimer was in some trouble,” said Lady
Enn.smore, turning away her head; ‘ ‘it is
nothing, Ennismore; I’ve beea a little up
set, that is all.’'
“Well, can I do anything, or help Lorimer
in any w iy?” said Lord Ennismore in that
kind way of his, following his wife into the
hall.
“Xo, dear, I think not,” she answered,
still not looking at him, and then without
another word she left him and hurried up
stairs her as she entered it.
Toen, when she was alone, she sat down
stnnned and heart-crushed. Oh, the bitter
shame of it, that she, who had held herself
so high,should now have fallen so low this!
And the sight of George Roche—the hide
ous knowledge what this man had once been
to her, that she had once loved him, stung
her to the soul.
“I must have been mad, mad," again she
groaned aloud.
She forgot the long years that had
changed and degraded the 1 >ver of her
youth; years spent in a fruitless struggle
with adverse fortune, for the man had not
the patient perseverance in his nature neces
sary to fight and win. He had made a false
start in early life, and he had never re
covered it; any littie gleams of good luck
being soon obscured by recklessness and
vice.
So he had gone down and dowD, and any
better feelings of his heart had grown
blunted in the so iring atmosphere of pov
erty and debt. By cha ce he had seen in an
English newspaper the name he had forged
long ago, and ue determined then to re. urn
to the old country, and endeavor to wring
the means of living out of bis brother. Col.
Roche, or the Maidens, not knowing any
thing that had happened to them in the
meantime.
He had not been quite unmoved when he
first spoke to the beautiful woman whose
life he was blighting;but Lady Runismore’s
shrinking aversion and unveiled contempt
had wounded his self-love, and he left Mrs.
Twisa’ establishment feeling somewhat bit
terly toward her.
“Shemight have t eenciviler to a fellow,”
bethought, bu. the next moment be re
flected what a good bargain he had made,
and he laughed aiond.
That he, George Roche, should ever come
into possession of a thousa and a year, was a
stroke of good fortune beyond his wlldes.
hopes. He went back to his wretched lodg
ings with his pookets full of money, and be
bought a bottle of brandy on bis way, and
boasted and swaggered during the rest of
the evening to auy one who would liste 1 to
tim. But he had discretion enough left to
mention no na ues. He had come into a
nice little fortune, he told his boon oompau
ions, and he meant to do nothing but enjoy
himself during the rest of his days.
But let us leave the elated mau in his first
hours of elati n, and go back to the unhap
py woman to wnom till reappearance hod
brought such bitter ill.
Even as regards money Lady Ennismore
had to consider, amid6t her misery, how a
thousand a year had to bo paid awav with
out the knowledge of her husband. She
had a private banking account, and a large
yearly allowance, but Lord Ennismore al
ways drew the checks for the current house
hold expenses, and knew generally how
much his wife spent.
She felt now bhe would almost be forced
to give up keeping on the house at Ardleigii,
where Elizabe h May was wailing for hei
you g mistress’ return, almost as one with
out hope.
The whole thing, in fact, was utterly de
grading and humiliating to Lady Ennis
more, and troubles that she had not forseen
speed ly awaited tier.
These arose from the cupidity of Mr.
Tommy Twiss. Scarcely, indeed, had Lady
Ennismore driven away after George
Rocoe’s departure from r.irs. Twiss’ house,
wten Tommy descended from the upper re
gions to which he had fled after trying to
listen to what was passing bet ween Lady
E. nismore and Roche; and to his wife’s as
tonishment, ho believed him to have been
away from the place the whole time, he
walked into the shop from one of the inside
doors.
“1 thought you were out, Tommy!” she
said, rather in a frightened lone.
“No, Martha,” replied Tommy, with a
grin. “I saw you wanted me out, sol re
soived to stay.”
“I am sure I did not want you out,” falt
ered Mrs. Twiss.
“Yes, my dear, you did; you wanted me
out so that Lady Ennismore coqjd receive a
gentleman here in private, and wake a bar
gain here in private with him, too?”
“Ob, Tommy,” and Mrs. Twiss grew pale,
and wrung her hands together; “you didn't
listen, surely?”
“Yes, my dear, I did," replied Mr. Twiss,
with another gain; “1 thought it my duty’
in fact, to listen, Martha, when 1 plainly
saw my wife wanted me out of the way,
and when I saw another fellow walk into
my house; any man,” added Tommy, with
an air of virtue, “would have listeuod in my
place.”
"And—what did you hearP’ asked Mrs.
Twiss, almost faintly, remembering how
Tommy had led her long ago to confide in
him the secret of Lady Ennismore’* youth.
Tommy winked one of his mean, little
eyes.
“You can quite trust me, Martha.” he
said. “Her ladyship wanted to buv this
fellow's silence, and paid n pretty "heavy
price for it also —and she oi.gut to buy ours
also.”
“O, Tommy, think what she has done for
us,” cried Mrs. Twiss, reproachfully.
“She bad gocd leason, my dear, to do a
great deal for us,” said Tommy; “and is
this fellow some relative of the fellow who
was drowned, and whom she was married
to?”
Mrs. Twiss drew a sigh of relief as she
heard this question. He did not know all
the dreadful truth, then, she thought.
“I heard her say he was to give up the
name of Koche,” went on Tommy; "and
she would allow him a thousand a year. A
thousand a year, Martha! Think of that,
and then we need not go on keeping this
rag shop any longer.”
“We have no claim.”
“Oh, haven’t we?” said Mr. Twiss, de
risively. "We know as much, and more,
maybe, than this Mr. Koche. or Johnson,
whatever he Is going to call himself; and
as she Is willing to pay him a thousand a
year for bolding his tongue, why shouldn’t
l s..e pay us? It stauda to reason, Martha.”
I Mrs. Twiss gave an uneasy sigh, and
looked half-frighted at the ex-lawyer's
c.erk she bad been foolish enough to wed.
“I am bound to her r y old ties, Tommy,”
she said; “and i blame myself too—she was
only a cuild in those days, and I ought to
hav told her mother.”
“Very well for us you didn’t, my dear,”
replied Tommy, airily. "Now, Martha, and >
no- be fo dish. It was arranged that you
had to pay in this thousand a year to some
bank to the account of this fellow Johnson,
lute Roche. Now her lad vship must mate
this hush money two thousand Instead of
one, and she cm very well afford it—one
thousand for her humble servants to com
maud, Mr. and Mrs. Twiss, the other as
agieed to Johnson.”
“Ob, Tommy, I can’t ask such a thing!”
cried Mrs. Twin, bursting into tears. “I
who have known her all her life.”
Tommy was quite unmoved by his wife’s
emotion.
“You can say you have your husband’s
orders to ask her." he replied. "Don’t be a
fool, Martha; if you don’t ask her, and put
the screw on too. I’ll spilt, and I should
like to know where her ladyship will be
then.”
In vain Mrs. Twin tried to turn him from
this decision. The poor woman, ashamed
and distressed beyond measure, was forced
by Tommy to go the next day to Grosvernor
Place, and request an interviow with Lady
Ennismore. Mrs. Twiss had a real affec
tion for her lady, and now most bitterly re
proached herself for being led away by
Tommy’s endearments t > betray a secret
that she had kept so faithfully for more than
twenty years.
Lady Ennismore. who had passed a mis
erable. almost sleepless night, no Sooner
was told that her old servant wished to see
her than she ordered her to be brought to
her morning room,and when Mrs. Twiss en
tered it with downcas , reddened eyes, Lady
Ennismore never doubted but that she was
the bea er of the agreement with R.che,
which she had promised to sign.
“Have you brought it, LoriinerP’ she
asked, in a quick, eager whisper, advancing
toward Mrs. Tw ss.
“You mean the paper,” answered Lori
mer, in a low, broken votce. “N >, my ladv,
it did not come by this morning’s post—but
I wanted to see you about something else
it, it makes me very unhappy what I’ve got
to say.”
"Wbat is it?” asked Lady Ennismore,
sharply, and her face grew very pale.
“I—l am ashamed to say it,” sobbed Mrs.
Twiss, “But, my lady, it seems yes erday
when you were nt our place, that my hus
band, whom I thought was out, was really
in the house, and though he should not have
and me it—though he’s a good husband, my
lady—still he should not have done it, but
he overheard ”
“Wbst!” cried Lady Ennismore, with a
sudden start.
“Not, not everything, my ladv, but
enough—he overheard Tlu agree to allow
Mr. Roche ”
“Huh, for God’s sake, hush—Lorimer,”
added Lady Ennismore, in bitter distress,
beginning to pace the ro m with irregular
steps; "does this mean that you have told
your husband—ab >ut the past?”
L rimer, ounsclence-stricken, fell on her
knees.
“Oh, my lady, not everything—no, not
everything. But that night Mr. Francis
came, and Twiss gave him the money. After
he was gone Twiss persua led me to tell him
something—to hint to him, in fact, what
r. Francis was to your ladyship. I—l
thought there was no harm in it, for I never
believod Twiss would have turned round as
no ha i done, and then, of course, I believed
the other was dead.”
As Lady Ennismore listened to this con
fession or one whom she had s> entirely
trusted, the bitterest thought filled her
heart.
“So you have betrayed me?” she said, in a
low voice of concentrated anger and sc rn,
mingled with fear, looking down at the
k .eeliug woman. "You!"
“I meant no harm in it, my lady—none,
none,” tried poor Mrs. Twiss, piteously.
“He asked who Mr. Frauds’ father was,
and I said ho had been long dead, and tha
was how it catre out. But he does not kuow
now who—was there yeste. day—does not
know what we know—only he overheard
the terms of the agreement, and he sent me
to-dsy ”
“To be bribed too, I suppose,” said Lady
Ennismore, bitterly. /
"Ho—he made me come, my lady," wept
Mrs. Twiss in genuine distress. “I told him
I’d rather have bitten my tongue out than
say such words to you, but I was afraid be
might do something if I didn’t come, ands i
1 thought it was best to do so, aud speak the
truth.”
“And what doss he want?” asked Laly
Ennism re, coldly.
“Ho does not know the truth, you see, and
he thinks if you are willing to pay so rnuoh
to one person to keep this secret, that he
should be paid too."
“Did he name his price tli"n?” asked
Lady Ennismore, with great scorn in her
voice and manner.
“He—he Baid equal with the other,” falt
ered Mrs. Twiss.
‘ J Equal with the other! Do you mean a
thousand a year?" cried Ltuiv Ennismore,
with strong indignation. “This is really
too much! Lorimer, if I had not heard
you with my own ears I could have sworn
you never would have spoken such words to
me.”
“I—l prayed bard not to say them, my
lady;indeed, indeei I did! But I could not
have believed Twiss would have acted as he
lias done. But he made me come, as I told
you, and I was afraid something worse
might happen i! I didn’t.”
"I cannot do it, evon if I would,” said
Lady Ennismore. “Do you know I shall
have difficulty oven in raising the money I
have promised without applying to Lord
Ennis more. I cannot do that, and therefore
it is madnesi of you or your husband to
talk of obtai ung such a sum. If you will
l>e content with a small one I shall see what
can be done.”
"I will tell Twiss, my lady, and try to
make him be reasonble. And, oh, my lady,
will you please forgive me?”
“How can I?” said Lady Ennismore, turn
ing away her head. “I trusted you, and
tnss is the end.”
Mrs. Twiss felt genuinely ashamed of
harself and parted with her lady very hum
bly and sorrowfully, and when she returned
to Buckingham Palace road she found a
visitor awaiting her.
This was no other than George Roche,
who on his arrival at the Lady's vVardrobe
had been received by Mr. Twiss very defer
entially.
“I called to see Mrs. Twiss on business,"
said Koche, who had a splitting headache.
Tommy wriggled his mean, little person
and smiled.
“Yes, business, private business, eh, sir?”
he said.
Roche made no answer; he did not like
Mr. Twiss’ looks, and he saw no reason
why heshonld make any explanation of his
visit.
“Is Mrs. Twiss at home?” be asked,
sharply.
“Not at this exact moment, sir; she too lias
gone out out on a little private business;
Mrs. Twiss is my wife, sir.”
“Your wife?” repeated Roche in genuine
surprise, looking at the little, cringing man
before him. “You don’t mean to say that
Lorimer married you?”
“Late Lorimer, Twiss now,” corrected
Tommy, grinning.
“Then you are Mr. Twiss?”
“At your service, sir—my wife and I have
no secrets from each other, sir.”
THE MORNING NEWS: SUNDAY, APRIL 5, IS9I—TWELVE PAGES.
Roche gave a harsh laugh.
“.-be may tell you that, but don’t you
believe her,” be said; “women all have se
crets, and there’s not one of them you can
trust.”
“And some pay to have their secret*
kept, eb,sir P suggested Tommy.
Roc ie looked at him quickly, shrugged
bis sbouiders. ad was si eat. B t before
Tommy had time to make auy further in
sinuations, or advances, Mr3. Twiss herself
walked into t e shop, looking exceedingly
disturbed.
Rocoe at once held ont his hand to her.
“Well, Lorimer, <.r Mrs. Twiss, I suppose
I ought to soy. ooiy the old name slips out,
you see here I am again.”
“Yes, sir,” answered Mrs. Twit?, sitting
down, as though what she bad gone
through bad been almost too much for her.
“This husband of yours,” went on Riche,
“has been telling me that you have no
secrete between you? Quite right, too. of
husband and wife about their own affairs,
but not about tie affairs of other people.
So, Mr. Twiss,” he continued, turning to
Tommy, “will you be kind euongh fo leave
me alone with this good lady whom I hare
known so long?”
"If you wish it, sir, certainly," replied
Tommy, looking rather disconcerted; “but
perhaps my egal advice would be of service
in settling any delicate arrangement; other
wise I can go upstairs.”
“Oblige me by going outside altogether,”
said R iche. with a rough laugh, who guessed
Tommy must have been liste ing the day
bef >re from what he had said; and there
was something in Roche’s mauner which in
duced Tommy not to dispute his will.
So he unwillingly went Into the street,
and his departure was a great relief to his
wife. Mrs. Twiss was indeed most anxb ns
to see Roche alone, for she wished to warn
him not to let her husband know more than
he already did.
“Now, let us come to business,” said
Roche, as Tommy disappeared. “What
did your husband mean, Lorimer, by hint
ing he knew what I was here for?”
“I’m afield he overheard some of the con
versation yesterday, sir,” answered Mrs.
Twiss, casting down her eyes.
"You mean he lsened? I thought as
much from what he said. Now, tell me bon
estly, what does he know?”
"Oh! Mr. Roche, it’s made me quite mis
erable! My husband saw you come in yes
terday, it seems, and when we were upstairs
he heard about the arrangement between
my lady and you. But he does not know
the truth—not who vou are—he thinks you
have found out about my lady’s youtb, and
are trading on it.”
“And how does he know anvthing about
my 1 arly’s youtn, as you call it ?’’
The ready tears sprang forth in Mrs.
Twiss’ kindly brown eyes at this ques
tion.
"I blame mvself, sir.” she said; “some
thing occurred that gave bitn some idea,
and he persuaded me to tell him atiout—you
know what—but then, of course, I believed
you to bo dead.”
"My reappearance is very awkward for
my lady, eertdnty,” said Roche, with an
other laugh, “but it cannot be helped, and I
am willing to hold my tongue if lam reg
ularly paid for it, but mind, l cannot bo an
swerable for Mr. Twiss! Well, Lorimer.
this is the agreement; gat your lady to sign
it and pay the money, aud I’ll not trouble
her.”
“Bhe went through a great deal, Mr.
Roche, at that time, and you should no;
forget this.”
“All right; I too went through a great
deal, my good Lorimer, and have bean half
s awed, while she seems to have been flrnr
ishing like a green bay tree. What sort of
man is Lord Ennismore—the man she calls
her husband!”
“As noble a gentleman as ever lived,sir;
noble to look at, and he just worships the
ground she treads on; there’s no mistake
about Lord Ennismore, for abetter husband
never breathed.”
“Lucky for him that he doesn’t know that
he isu’t her husband,” laughed Roche.
“However, there it is; a bargain is a t ar
eain, and if she keeps hers. I’ll keep mine,
and so, Lorimer, get her to sign that Daioar,
and nay me the first quarter's check, and my
Lady Ennismore u and not be afraid."
CHAPTER XXII.
PURSUED.
The next few days were almost intoler
ably bitter and degrading to Lady Kuuis
more. She whs in the toils and sue couid
not escape, and the mis Table littie wretch,
Tommy Twins, hell her fast. He would be
paid for his silence, and he made his wife
tell Lady Ennismore this, which the poor
woman did with sbamo and many tears,
ad the foolish tender love wh.ch she had
nursed in her heart bo long for Tommy
certainly at this time began to wane.
At last, after ruuen bargaining, Tommy
agreed to accept five huudred a year fr ra
Lady Ennismore, for holding his tongue
regarding her early life. She was a very
rich woman, but even to a
rich woman to pay away fifteen hundred a
year witnout the knowledge of her husband
is a serious consideration. But Lady Ennis
more did this. She privately soid some of
her splendid jewels, and told Lord E.inis
niore she felt too ill to go through the
fatigue of a London B“ason. Thus early in
June they quited town, and bv Lady
Eunismore’a wish returned to Brackenford.
She feltsiferiu the country, she thought;
farther away from the chance of again
looking on tho face which had cost her so
dear.
It chanced to be a beautiful summer, and
noma sort of peace stole back to her heart
amid tho wild Hills she bad loved so well.
But every one noticed that Lad/ Ennis
more was greatly changed. She had grown
nervous, and had a strange look of fea
so.e times. when the remembrance of
the haunting shadow of the past rose
before her. Still she belie ted she had
purchased Roche’s silence, and that he
would be content never to advance any
further claims.
In the meanwhile, as the bright summer
days glided on. Miss Sinclair was doing her
bes > to win from the gentle lips of the rector
some declaration of the feelings of his heart.
But the Reverend Peter still was siteut.
Here was a nmu crushing unselfishly back
the one ardent wish of his life for the sake
of the poor old faded sisters at dome. Dur
ing Miss Sinclair's absence in town how
many a time hai Peter wandered alone in
the gloaming thinking of her parting words.
She would not forget sbo had a friend at
Bruckeuford, she had said, and not many
weeks after she put this to a practical proof,
for she wrote to the rector, enclosing a £5
note, which she asked him, as a great favor,
to distribute betweeu two poor sick women
in the village, whom she felt much sympathy
for.
“Dear Mr. Prescott,” (read the rector,
holding the clear, finely-written lines in his
trembling hand) “I am going to ask you if
you will be so very good as to give the en
closed money to poor Mrs. Pritchard and
Mrs. James? I felt so sorry for these two
unfortunate women when 1 came away, but
just then 1 was too poor to help them. Now,
however, I have received my salary ami
can afford to spare the trifle I send, espe
cially i.s I spend very little while we are in
town, as Ido not care for gaiety at all. I
send the money to you because you know
wo promised t > be friends always before I
left Brackenford, and this thought is very
pleasant to me, and now I am laking ad
vantage of our c mi >act by asking you this
great favor. Lady Ennismore does not
seem to improve ia health, aud looks ill and
nervous, and from what she raid the other
day I fancy we shall not remain much
longer in town. I, for one, am longing onoe
more to see the heathery hills, and I remaiu,
with kiudest regards yours very sincerely,
“C. Sinclair.”
What it cost Miss Sinclair to part with
that £5 note no oae can imagine! She was
very fond of money-, and to send it away
to two old women was absolutely heroic ou
her part. But she knew it was likely to
draw the rector nearer to her, for ihe Rev.
Peter was a man of much charity, ana his
sisters used to declare that Peter gave a wav
far too much. She, therefore, sent it, and
it had precisely the effect she intended.
Poor Mrs. Pritchard and poor Mr<. James
each received the two pounds ten shillincs
intended for them, but Miss Sinclair’s £5
note was not. cnang si, but remained with
her letter on the rector’s desk, cherished os
one of hie mosr. prec.ous p< - ssions.
And he wrote to tba.k her also, and alto
gether after Mist Sinclair received his let
ter she diil not grudge the money quite so
much to the two 00l women. Thus, when
she returned to Bracke and rd, in the shin
ing summer days, she met the rector n very
friendly fasnion, and his sisters b gin t >
tremble more than e.er lest they should lose
their comfortable tome.
Bat the summer waned, and the yellow
gorse shed around its leaves of gold on the
hills, and the heather began to open its
purple petals to the sun, and still Peter had
not spoken. Then the shotting season com
menced, and men arrive! at Brackenford,
and among thorn you ig Curzon, whom Miss
Sinclair thougnt tiud a great admiration
for herself, aud whoie handsome face was
more pleasant to her eyes than the retor’s
lean yellow one.
She wished, in fact, to flirt with Curzon,
and marry the rect r. And Curzon, who
had a motive for doing so, encouraged her
in the idea that he was in love with her,
because ne thus had an opportunity of be
ing constantly with Joiia Bingham, who
naturally was a greet deal with her gov
erness.
But Julia, who was growing up a lovely
young girl, was Curzon’s real attraction at
Bracke.if Td. .She also thought she quite
understood the reason of Curzon’.s attentions
to Miss Sinclair. She regarded her as quite
an elderly person, aud would smile in her
proud, suv way at “Miss Sinclair’s folly,"
for as such she esteemed the handsome
governess’ evident pleasure in the society of
the good looking young soldier, who nad
whispered many a tender word in her own
youthful ears.
Francis R che had been invited by Lord
Eunismore to accompany his ged-s >n, Cur
zon, to Brackeaford, but he had declined.
“I don’t know what has come over
Roche,” Curzon told Lady Ennismore on
the night he arrived at Brackeaford, but
you never taw such a changed fellow.”
“How be is changed?” asked Lady Ennis
more, with quivering lipi.
“Ob, he u.ed to bes > jolly, you know, and
now he’s quite different; 1 fancy he was
very hard hit by that handsome girl be met
here last autumn—Miss Drummond—by the
by, wnere is she now*”
This was a most painful question, and
Lord Ennismore who heard it looked anx
iously at his wife, and then quickly changed
the conversation by abruptly asking some
question about his own family. And Cur
zon at once saw be had said something that
he had better have left unsaid.
And when Lady Ennismore quitted the
room, Ennismore put his baud ou Curzon’s
shoulder, and drew him aside.
“My dear boy,” he said, “do not mention
Helen Drummond's name again to my wife.
Avery extraordinary thing has happened,
for this poor girl has disappeared in n most
mysterious way from her home, and my
wife, who has known her from her baby
hood, is in the greatest distress about her.
In fact, Lady Ennismore has never beea the
same since it happened, and I offered a re
ward for any information about Helen
without effect, and there are ssrious doubts
vrbeiher this poor girl did not put an end to
herself.”
“What a terrible thing,” said Curzon;
“I’m most awfully sorry I mentioned her
name to Lady Ennismore.”
But the next day ho found an opportunity
of mentioning it to Julia Biugham, aud
Julia's eyes filled with tears as he spoke of
her old friend.
“I cannot make it out,” she said; “mother
seat her away from here, you know, be
cause—Mr. R che liked her very much, I
think—and they have all been so strange
ibout it. Do not tell this, but Mr. Roche
got her address in Scotland from me, and I
am almost sure he went there, though
Helen never told me, but she seemed so
happy just after 6ho went home, and she
was so unhappy to go away from here, and
mother made her promise not to see or write
to Mr. Roche before she left. Well, then.nfter
little while mother went quite suddenly to
Scotland, and I never heard from Helen
again after mother’s visit—not even at
Christmas—then Holon’s aunt. Miss Drum
mond, died, and it was after that Helen dis
appeared, and mother ha* been so unhappy
about her, and I am sure I 1 avo been, too.”
“It’sa very strange business, and l’va no
doubt poor Roche has felt it awfully, for I
know he was very fond of her, and’whena
fellow likes a girl, you know, Miss
Julia ”
Julia cast down her beautiful, shy eyes,
and a soft color stole over her face as Cur
zon went on.
“At least I know what I should foel if
some one—you know whom don’t you. Miss
Julia, were to disappear like this poor girl?
By Jove, 1 believe I’d put a pistol to my
head, I could.,'t stand it.”
“It is very terrible for ts all.”
“She was such a nice bright girl, too!
Poor Roche—wonder he never men
tioned it to me, as we met her here to
gether?”
“I am sure it is something about Mr.
Roche —for she told me ”
And Julia paused, blushing more deeply
still.
“What did she tell you, Julia? That she
liked Roche?” askei Curz in, who understood
the cause of the young girl's shyness.
“Yes,” half whispered Julio.
“Whatdid she say about him, Julia?”
said Curran, very tenderly and gently
taking her band. “Won’t you tell mo,
dear?”
“She.” faltered Julia, with downcast
head—“said—that she would never
change ”
“By Jove! I wish soma one would say
that of me. I would give all I have ia the
world to hear such words from ”
Ha paused, and well he might. His semi
sentimental conversation had taken place in
one of the winding paths at Brackenford,
near where a little artificial cascade came
sparkling and dancing from the rock uork
above, aud happended in this wise.
Julia and her governess had met Mr.
Curzon in the grounds as they very fre
quently did, and while they were walking
together Miss Sinclair’s quick eyes perceived
the stooping form of the rector, entering at
a little private gateway to the groutids, at
a short distance from them, and though she
admired Curzon, she was prudent withal,
and making some excuse to her young com
panions, she ndvauced to meet the rector,
and thus Julia and Curzon were left, alone.
But not for long; Miss Sinclair did not
go as far as the house with Rev. peter, but
merely walked ashore way with him, but
long enough to set his heart beating very
fast, and make every pulse in his body
tingle.
Then sbo returned to look after her pupil,
or rather after Curzon. And Curzon
paused abrubtly in his love-making when
he heard her step. Not that Mis* Sinclair
had the faintest idea that he ever thought
of the lovely young girl she constantly
allowed to be In hia society. She was too
vain for that. Sue i elieved Curzon ad
mired herself, aud only regretted that they
were both too poor ever to think of each
other seriously.
So the little comedy played on, and Cur
zon did his part mit exceedingly well. He
did not dislike the idea of making love to
two women at the same time. It rather
amused him, aud be a.so knew that if he
thought of marriago it must be with some
one who brought him more than a fair face.
Julia Bingham was very pretty, and he
believed would be rich, and being welcome
to stay as long as he liked with his god
father, Lord E mismora, he certainly made
the best of bis time.
He had been quite ten days at Bracken
ford before Lady Enni more ever noticed
that Mr. Curzon seemed on very friendly
terms with her governess and her young
daughter. But one afternoon, just as tne
sun was sinking behind the purple hills,
feeling feverish and restless, she went for a
short stroll iu the grounds, and soniewiiat
to her surprise, in one of the secluded walks
beneath the dusky firs, where poor Helen
Drummond and Frauds Roche used to
meet in the gloaming, she encountered
seemiugly a very merry group, which con
sisted of Miss Sinclair, ilr. Curzon and
Julia.
'lhey were walking abreast, and laughing
and talking, and never saw Lady Ennis
more until she was quit • close to teem.
Then Miss Sinclair quickly assumed a very
different demi anor, and drew a littie apart
from Curzon before they met Lady Ennis
more, who, however, observed the move
ment.
"It is a beautiful evening, is it not, I-ady
Ennismore? ’ s ie said, as they approached.
“Julia and I by chance met Mr. Curz n a
few mouien s ago as he was return.ng fr m
the moors.”
“So I see,” answered Lady Eunismore,
smiling. "Had you gxid sport t>day, Mr.
Curzmf
“Fairly good," be answered, smiling also,
“but lam not such a i entausiastiu sports
man, you kn >w, as Lord Ennismore.”
“Well, if you your.g people will go in
and ring for tea I shall join you in a few
minutes,” said Lady Ennismore, moving
on; and accordingly the three proceeded
toward the house, while Lady Eunismore.
with bent heid, went on r;er way, wonder
ing why Julia bad blushed so vividly when
they had met.
But presently, as Lady Eunismore kept
walking beneath the dusuy firs, she heard a
step behind her. She turned round, think
ing it might be Lord Ennismore who had
come to seen her: but with a sudden start,
almost a cry, in a moment she recognized
the approaching figure.
It was Ueorge Roche, who quickly came
forward, and thus again these two stood
face to face.
“You did not expect to see me," he began,
“but I've been hanging about the place for
a couple of days in the hope of meeting
you.”
"Why have v u come?” asked Lady En
nismore huskily and sternly, fixing her
eyes upon his face. “Why have you broken
your word?”
"Became you deceived me,” answered
Roche. "You told me ur chilli was dead,
instead of which I have found out he is a
fine grown-up young mau and that makes
all the difference to my bargain with you.”
(TO BB CONTINUED.)
CORSETS.
Some women are “ bothered
to death ” with corsets break
ing. There is a “hone” that
never breaks; it can’t be
broken—by wear. The only
way it can be broken is by
bending it back the other way
—which is never done in wear.
Don’t believe it, perhaps?
Very well. Let us sell you
a Kabo corset; and, if it
breaks in a year, come back
and get your money.
The steels may break—
the Kabo never!
We have a primer on Cor
sets for you.
A. R. ALTMAYER&CO.
ALE DIG A. L.
HOTHING SUCCEEDS
UKE SUCCESS.
WM. RADAM’S
n3s|s/ killer
MOST TRULY AND CORRECTLY CALLED
The Greatest Medicine in the World
A WONDERFUL 70BIG
AXD BLOOD PURIFIER
ADiiCST MIBA3ULOUS CUSE3
Of hopeless and apparently incurable diseases
are constantly being made. It is expected to
perform the impossible, by curing cases given
up by physicians, and it
DOSS NOT DISAPPOINT EXPECTATIONS.
More people are- being cured by Microbe
Killer than by all other medicines combined.
JVe request a thorough investigation.
History of the Microbe Killer free t* -
BUTLER’S PHARMACY. Sole Agent, vana
nah, Ga.
BM
QERMAN{[NIMEftTSi &p els pair;
IIPPMAN BROS.. Savannah,
Sole INTHE U. JS. sg
CRYSTAL, LENSES!
LyF' J>'
Fv£&y^|
C 3-. M. HEIDT CO. Druggists,
Have exclusive sale of these colebra.ed classes
in Savannah, Ga FAULKNER, KELLA'i &
MOORE, the only Manufacturing Opticians in
the South, Atlanta, Ga. Peddlers are not sup
plied with these famous glasses.
~ FLOUR.
“Time and tide wait for
no man ” is an old proverb,
but we know one thing,
and that is that the people
wait for
BUCKWHEAT,
and when it has put in its
appearance they MUST
have it.
MEDICAL.
IN i-tm ajrxtin u-. “
Nature should be assisted, when the system is changing
from the full habit of the winter months, to the lighter
diet of the warm season. Swift’s Specific (S. S. S.)
stimulates the sluggish blood and rids you of that feeling
of heaviness and languor.
S. S. S., beautifies the skin and makes the complexion rosy and healthy.
S. S. S., gives elasticity to the step and buoyant spirits.
S. S. S., makes the feeble and delicate strong and robust.
S. S. S., is a tonic to the whole body and increases vitality.
S. S. S., is a simple vegetable medicine.
If there is poison in the blood, it generally shows itself in
the spring, and this is the season to help nature to drive
it out and be cured. Nothing does this as well as S. S. S.
It is harmless to the most delicate, yet so powerful as to
cleanse the system of all impurities.
Books on Blood c, rm rr*a thf ANTA Gl
Chichester's English. Red Cross Diamond Brand a
PwWRONMi *P\WiS A
THE ORIGINAL AND GENUINE. The only Safe Sure. and reliable Pill for sale \%K-v
L suit pa, uk Drugsriat for Chichester* English I diamond Brand in Rod and Gold metal‘ie W 7
bo*eu sealed with blue ribbon. Take bo other kind. Refuse Substitutions and Imitations V
>ll pill* in pasteboard boies, pink wrappers, are dnneeron* counterfeits. At Druggists or Bond
4e. in tamps for particulars, testimonial*, and “Relief f**r Ladle*,” in letter, hv return M.ii
IO.fMJO Tmimonial* Same Payer. CHICHESTER CHEMICAL Cos., MndU..n SnunvZ
Hold by all Local DruggUu. PHILADELPHIA,V L*
P 3 P, P a Pimples
PRICKLY ASH, POKE ROOT Blotches
AND POTASSIUM ““
Makes
„ Olu Sores
Marvelous Cures
■i i ■■ am m i ■■"■■■■" mmm m p r j c kiy Ash, Poke Root and Potassium,
the greatest blood purifier on earth.
mßloori Poison
LuwvU I WlwUll poison, and all other impurities of the
—~~.-i.ii— 1.11.1. i in mu Blood are cured by F. P.‘ P.
. Itandall Pope, the retired druggist of
**!, | ■ Madison, Fla., says : P. P. P. is the best
alterative and blood medicine on the
BtIIGIIIIIQIIuIII market. He being a druggist and hav
tSIDUHIHMIIWIII ja? sol( j flll kjnds Qf medicine hig un .
.■ ii... solicited testimonial is of great impor
tance to the sick and suffering.
anrl Scrofyfs
Wi U 3 MSki great pleasure in testifying to the eifi
— 11—i—iii——i— cient qualities of the popular remedy
for eruptions of the skin known as
P. P. P. (Prickly Ash, Poke Root and
P. P. P. purifies the blood, builds up Potassium.) I suffered for several
the weakaud debilitated,givesstrength years with an unsightly and disagre
to weakened nerves, expels diseases, eable eruption on mv face and tried
givingthe patient health and happiness various remedies toremoveit, none of
where sickness, gloomy feelings and which accomplished the object, until
lassitude first prevailed. this valuable preparation was resorted
In blood poison, mercurial poison, *°- After taking three bottles, in ac
malaria, dyspepsia and in all blood and cprdance with directions. lam now en
skin diseases, like blotches, pimples, tirely cured. J. D. JOHNSTON,
old chronic ulcers, tetter, scaldhead, Of the firm of Johnston & Douglas
we may say without fear of contra- Savannah Ga.
diction that P. P. P. is the best blood c a
r.nrifler in i hn world „ Henry \\ inter. Superintendent of the
purifier mt.io world. Savannah Brewery, says : he has had
Ladies whose systems are poisoned rheumatism of the heart for several
and whoso bloodi, in an impure con- years, often unable to walkhispain was
dition, due to menstrual irregularities, so intense; ho had professors in Phiia
are peculiarly benefited by the won- delphiabut received no relief until he
derail tonic and blood cleansing pro- came to Savannah and tried P. P. P.
perties of P. P. P., Prickly Ash, Poke Two bottles made hitn a well man and
Root and Potassium. he renders thanks to P. P. P.
AH druggists sell it.
LIPPMAN BROS., Proprietors,
Lippman’s Block, Savannah, G-a.
SHOES.
* |
everything'
IN YOUR FAVOR.
A light store, fresh stock, atten
tive clerks, goods the choicest
picks, prices the lowest possible con
sistent with fair dealing. Can you
riot see where your interest lies?
Don’t leave your inierest and princi
pal both at the high prioed stores,
but
Come to Butler & Morrissey.
!J ! | I
The ~
Leaders
IN
Low Prices
| y “T - Confound this claim with
wV V-*/ ISI I the claims of others which
are not substantiated by facts. Our goods are
back of our prices, and we stand back of our
goods, ready to make every promise good.
BUTLER & MORRISSEY,
Broughton St.
FLOUR.
YAKO Kit'S
“ROYAL LILY” FLOUR,
Made bv the new Cornelius system, all
the moisture contained in the grain is kept
in the flour. No matter where it has been
tried housekeepers have uniformly pro
nounced its superiority. For sale by
S. W. BRANCH,
Corner Broughton and Whitaker streets
JAPANESE
WCURE
A guaranteed Cure for Piles of whatever
kind or degree—External, Internal, Blind or
Bleeding, Itching, Chronic, Recent or Heredi
tary. 81.00 a box; 6 boxes, 85.00. Sent by
mail, prepaid, on receipt of price. We guar
autee to cure any case of Piles. Guaranteed
and sold only by
THE HEIDT DRUG CO., Savannah, Ga.
COTTON COMPRESS.
MORSE COTTON COMPRESS.
The most powerful and effective in the world;
exerts a press,ire on tie bale of 5.000,<0
pounds. Eighty-four of them now in use, which
are compressing two-thirds the American crop.
Several of these first er *cted have press ’d one
and a quarter million bales without defect or
appreciable wear. Their immense weignt an 1
strength l ave rendered them the only durable
compress in use. It Is surpassed by none in
quality of work—lnman & Cos.
Have had no repairs to make since its erection
ten years ago—Rome Compress Cos.
We pressed 487 bales in 3 hours and 3 min*
utes—Vicksburg Compress Cos.
Sole owners and patentees.
S. B. STEERS & CO.,
Cotton Exchange, NewOrleans, La.
igJIUJ ——!
P.LUMBER AND GAS FITTER.
ESTABLISHED 1853.
joiix nFcolson,
30 AND 32 DRAYTON STREET.
Practical Plumber, Steam
and Gasfitter.
All sizes of
IRON AND LEAD AND OTHER PIPES AND
COCKS.
A full line of Valves and Fittings, from Ift to
o inches. Everything necessary to fit up Steam,
Hydraulic and’Wind-mill power.
Civil and Steam Engineers will find it to their
advantage to call.
BATH TUBS,
WATER CLOSETS and
WASH BASINS.
CHANDELIERS, GLASS GLOBEB,
And other articles appertaining to a first-clas#
honest establishment always in stock.
MEDICAL.
8 CURE FITS!
When I say cure I do not mean merely tostoo tnem
for & time and then have them return again. I■
a radical cure. I have made the disease off lies
EPILEPSY or FALLING SICKNESS a life-leak
study. I warrant my remedy to cure the worst case*
Because others have failed is no reason for not no
receiving a cure. Send at once for a treatise
free bottle of my infallible remedy. Give fcxpresa
and Post Office address. v v
H, G. ROOT, M. C . 183 Pf arl St.
B Jkjel lln 48 honrs Gonorrhoea and dis- f *N
IyHF S charges from the urinary organs( ■ iiw 1
aro arrest, and by Santr.l-Mldy OapJffUyJ I
without Inconvenience. Y y
