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V
j that give me
if you’re agoing to
#ful unruly tongue,
■*ny a time your faithful
t religion some twenty years ago,
- times we've been at loggerheads,
good hard religion all through our
.led life,
it's what’s been the matter sure, and cause
withclose-o» ofallthe8trife
isi fitting clr
k. aud with a.y the help of our Savior 1,11 lead a better life,
iy a studious And by my hopes ol Heaven I’ll be a duteous wife;
•.tss in bis tace. Our child U moping all the time because of you
i-nt parents, his bro_ aml j_
^ThMeweri royal dearJohn ! Just think of lt-sappose she
cl i d was the behoved cenii"* ° 6 ‘
household and its cir. 'a ot gcish to blame much, but our neighbors
can see him watch’- w ~ ~
the street, and i'e
dov s ami pla} in
over bis pictur<-bov
lhe hlgu htuol bol ire
Jiuij.e mtiody to plea <> ns clously, they helped
iemivtly b-side his fou
i Afterward, lie is, thel^A
•'aal's t-cbooh
both had cross-grained ways, and
ed at ‘‘outs;”
talk of my faults, to me they’d talk
to make the
Jso the worst came to the worst; we|agreed so
. disagree,
it s foolish, and its wicked for folks like you and
me;
in’t, it’s no use trying, see you; John, go away—
(just, as lieve be lying dead upon that bed to
day!
farm would go to ruin, the live stock perish
too;
1 all he wasted that we worked so hard for. me
and you;
bout you to depend upon; without your helping
hand,
r long do you suppose, old man, I could the
pressure stand?
!ave no heart for business, I’d havd no heart for
I work;
fy and sick and lonely, my duties I would
•shirk;
jays would be so gloomy, and life so very sad,
|W that first from thinking I'd go stark, raving
Vlad!
_ iin! all this is dreadful, I knowlyou think
H* fe must not be a failuie—let’s journey wisely
primroses beside r
, , through;
i ms. Us neighbor ™
•' view of Windsor < havl
"”en M''ton, there. , , , T , . T
*V-d ti !$med wi‘ tVia, " h your ,an " ua " c riled me . John, when I
‘Put it oarefnlly on the table, and let it re
main there nntii Dr. Stanley comes.’
I obeyed. Again eilenoe fell between us,
again Colonel Fanshawe seemed bnried in pro
found reverie.
‘Is it not time for the doctor to come?’ he
asked, presently.
_‘I should think so. I will send for him if yon
wish. J
•No, Miss Palgrave, I oan wait. Bat you will
not leava me?’
•No, if you wish me to remain.'
‘I do.’
He sighed heavily, and put out his hand to
clasp mine, as if to gnard against the possibility
of escape on my part.
It was full half hour before Dr. Stanley came.
e proceeded directly to the library; and I
thought he looked pleased at finding me there.
But he gave me a careless nod, and leaned over
his patient, without a word.
I was watching him closely, and s iw a troub
led expression cross his face as he carefully ex
amined Col. Fanshawe’s symptoms.
.‘Ion are not so well as yon were at my last
visit,’ he said bluntly; and then turning to me
with a glance full of meaning, he added;
‘Miss Palgrave, yor and I will be compelled to
try new remedies with our patient. The old are
not so effectual as I could wish.’
I understood him. He took this way to let
me know that he now fully shared my suspi
cions.
‘Never mind the remedies now,’ said Colonel
Fanshawe, impatiently. ‘I want to talk about
something else.’
•Eh! said the doctor, arching his brow.
‘I believe you are something of an analytical
chemist?'
A quick nod was the answer.
four times. Already I feel gi ;aint in my sys
tem. It has sapped the vei foundation of my
strength. \
Tho proper treatment wi>on purify your
blood of the destructive agt It is not that
whieh now troubles me. I ih to insure yon
against a repetition of this attpt on your life.
Some measures must be takeniaf will prove
effective.’
He walked to the bell-rc and pulled it
sharply. One of the maids bq made her ap
pearance in answer to the suunns.
‘Send Mrs. Vann here,’ he SI. ‘Ask her to
come immediately.’
I wondered what he meai to do, bat he
looked so grave and stern, I hanot the courage
to ask.
Mrs. Vann came, after a longnd wearisome
delay. The instant she crcssethe threshold,
I saw that she had prepareiherself for the
worst. She was frightfully ps^ and the cor-
| ners of her month drooped lo If there had
ever been danger in the womanhere was dan
ger in her then.
‘Somebody sent for me.’ shiaid, glancing
alternately into our troubled fag. ‘Is it not
so?’
‘I sent for you,’ replied Dr. St ley.
‘Indeed! what can I do for yoi
There was something hard anjefiant in her
manner, though as yet she seeWto struggle to
keep her real feelings in sutfj' **i If it was to
be war between us, she had eviditly made tip
her mind to wage it to the last.
Perhaps Dr. Stanley saw this, t any rate he
moderated his tone somewhat.
‘Somebody has attempted to puon Col. Fan-
sbawe,’ he said, abruptly.
Mrs. V.tnn started, turned purie. and drop
ped half fainting into the nearit chair. The
loving
foul-
heart, and you a noble, generous
• o and. lived at
»roke that china bowl!
!X golden years, g^yand say it truthfully,
'■-.me, f a r the £ aUt ,
you're generous to]a
ured with Natnr n an( j truth, and justice, you were never
* n,f 7; A*ver was ;nown to halt;
i .in Ms. He >voi give all that your heart said give, and if it
an me ne had s , « .
„ & ‘ * f >roke you flat;
i i 1 Yo rather be right than President; you’re well
delightful ebarjj . 7, ,,
, f mown as to that!
foe grand music,
en'-.rtlv neighbors,Iways was that way, John, I remember my
J h f S'ivnies, -poor mother
J’ . i a .es. I\\ ith you was always weleome, and so my crippled
' brother,
Jj or v was ’/ou'd drive at all times clear o’ debt, and Keep a
not ./Hilt 'well-filled larder,
1 T 'creed i ,..-o r ivoiLl did v^u complain hut. nnto — J
tie *
and knew that'I
cberitrtjflfh
thought OT that, John,
I'd scold and rant around, and give you
it tie rest;.
, u my pride and ug'y spunk are gone, like
uiar.Krtrv weather.
g| if you will forgive me, John, in peace we 11
live together.
T ,-, r0 years of usefulness may come to "you
, ribeneah the maple trees together we shall
trees we planted years ago, when you and I
e>s, >and you so hale and
old days, John; a tear is
wore young,
A <3 i?*/. laughing^
W'lrl jionor, John, far more than
«r WUw<pea k
l h**the urffjFr. oi those times we bath remem-
both'esolve, henceforth, to weave again their
golden spell!
consent to stay with us? God bless you.
otan, for this! .
K uke my hand, and with it, too, an old-time
ovine: kiss; , T
11 be no parting more till death, and then 1
one we’ll be . ,
evermore in heaven, our child, and you and
the
tJM 0[ CED1I Cllfll.
An Autobiography.
By Rett Winwooil,
Kobody's Wife,' ‘The Broken Mar-
•I would like to put your knowledge to the
test. Mis3 Palgrave, that bit of glass if you
pl<>fise.’ , _ ,
I brought it from the table. Dr. S.anlev s
face lighted up with a gleam of intelligence as
his eyes fell upon it.
•You see that bit of liquid?’ Col. Fanshawe
{ went on, in a perfectly composed voice. ‘I want
• you to tell me what there is in it.’
Dr. Stanley tasted it with his finger. ‘Ugh; it
■ is very bitter,’ he said.
Then ho looked at me again. I think he must
have read the whole story in my face, for after a J
moment’s refl'ction, he added:
‘I must take this to my laboratory to analyze
it perfectlv. Perhaps I had better go at once, and
prescribe for you afterwards, Col. Fanshawe.’
•Oh, yes,; go quickly.’
He carefully drew a paper around the bit of
glass, having first placed it in a larger goblet
that stood on the table, and which kepttitin an
upright position.
Then he went away, and I saw him rapidly
crossing the lawn a few moments later.
I too, would have left the room, but Col. Fan
shawe clasped my hand with such a look of
pleading in his eyes, that I could have refused
him nothing.
•Stay with me,’ he whispered. ‘I need you.
I believe I should go mad if left by mjsslf.’
I drew a chair up to the conch and sat down.
After that the moments dragged until they
seemed like so many hours. A long time elapsed
before Dr Stanley returned.
When he did come back it was with a slow
step, and an expression on hU face from which
I sank appalled.
•Col. Fanshawe,’ he said abruptly, in a low,
stern voice, ‘you must tell me all the particu
lars concerning the few drops of lemonade yon
gave ire o analyze.
The tick man looked np eagerly.
•What w is the result of your analysis?’
•Yon have not told me what I wish to know,’
said Dr. Stanley, qnieilv putting him off ‘How
came that wretched stuff in your possession?’
‘It was given me as a cooling drink. I was
told that you ordered it.’
‘A lie!’ exclaimed the doctor in an angry
Ethel Dreeme,' l Tlie Ti kite Spectre.
The Chilton Estate,’ • lhe
Author of.
’*qe Bond,'
ioeetheart and H a*
Trowjed Heiress, etc., etc.
CHAPTER XIV
DU. STANLEY SPEAKS HIS MIND
L i^ti e while not a word was spoken be-
•° r 1 r< 0 ] Fanshawe lay qnite still with
*» n nA over tits eyes, as if thinking.
WUV b e moved ’ m0aned> and § anoed at
pfglass was broken?’he said.
l!mnUtelv shattered?’ be persisted.
icmpUte y Jt ba( j BO t occurred to me,
VthifTir s‘ant, that anything couldbedie-
Ua from it. Instantly lay pulses began to
ti tnp ban) mers. I vas getting excited,
folikotri, n of the glass, for half an
therein, still retains, sir,’I said.
th0 Z, expression swept C7*r his face,
ttuup carefully. Miss palgrave, and tell
1 1 of (he liquid remain, in if
tStawSV“ d ” p i* d!
rer J f thew°M if they pearls, little
I For y° ur lif6 <i° nt SD * dr them to be
of repressed excitement.
in i? t !nfld and a slight lash kind ed
** brightened, an® ^ ^ ^ ^ be
ieheeks. a n slt ,pi c ions to
at my beaitil said
,111 do Witt thii bit of else?'
suddenness of the announcement seemed to
overpower her.
‘Impossible!’ she gasped.
‘It is only too true. ‘
She looked up at him quickly.
‘Way do you tell this to me, Dr. Stanley?’ she
demanded.
•To whom should I tell it, madam? Some one
in authority here ought to know the cowardly
crime that has been attempted. I could not
make a confident of Mrs. Fanshawe,’replied the
doctor
‘No,’ she said, shudderingly, ‘Louise must
not know it. You are right aftetall. But I be
lieve, I must believe you’re mis r eken.’
Dr. Stanley passed by her U&t words, as if
they deserved no attention.
‘I look to you, Mrs. Vann, to s(e that this out
rage is not repeated. If anything should hap
pen, I tell you plainly that a mtet careful and
thorough investigation will be ^lstituted until
the culprit is unmasked.’
'Of course,’ she said, retainiugher compoiure
by a powerful effort. But Rhe fenced at us in
a horiibly baffled way, as if ata loss what to
think or do.
Presently, she arose and tofofered up to Dr.
Stanley. J?
‘Whom do yon suspect?’ she af ed in a hoarse
whisper that was distinctly aud|>le. ‘The ser
vants are all old ones and beyttd suspicion.
Miss Palgrave is the only one iuthe hpuse who
is at all sirange to—’
He silenced her with a look. !
‘It is idle to insinuate anythin against Miss
Palgrave. You ought to know letter.’
The mnRcles in Mrs. Vaun’s fa|b worked ner
vously. She hesitated a mor*nt, struggled
with the words that rose to her l|s, then moved
towards the door again.
‘This is your work my dear,’ be said, stoop
ing suddenly, as she passed by, ud hissing the
words close to my ear. ‘I wish ou j >y of it,’.
He turned away and paced the floor with hur
ried, uneven steis. I think , it was not quite
clear to him what course he had better take in
this wretched affair.
At last he came back again and paused beside
the couch.
•Some one has tried to poison you,’ he said,
in a fierce, vehement tone of voice—-You ought
to know the truth—aud there you have it If I
am blunt, it is because I can’t be otherwise, at
such a time. Whoever gave you that lemonade
is a dangerous and deadly enemy-base enough
for the foulest crimes in the whole calendar.’
There was no change in Col. Fanshawe’s face.
He did not even look surprised.
•Will you tell me the nature of the poison
used? he said, coolly.
•I need not describe it at length. It does its
woik secretly, but surely. I was not aware that
it could be procured at all in this country—al
though well known in the East.’
•Describe its action.’
•Given in small doses—as it has been admin
istered to yon—it completes its work in about
ten or twelve days. The victim dies, apparent
ly of exhausted vitality; and the most rigidpost
mortem examination is able to discern no trace
oflhe deadly drug.’
•How dreadful!' said Col. Fanshawe, With a
shudder. .
•Yes it is a fearful weapon m unscrupulous
hands’ But I think you have nothing to ap-
nrebend Your symptoms have pnzz'ed me
verv much, but now I understand them, and
can treat you with a b< tter chance of success.’
‘I must have taken the poison at least three or
CHAPTER XV|
THE SMUGGLED Noi
•Let us try to forget, little that any
thing disagreeable has oecnrredfsaid C >1. Fan
shawe, when I had gone dowko ait with him
for a few moments the next moing. ‘Jt semis
like a horrible dream already4he attempt to
poison me.’
‘I don’t like snch dreams,’ rail.
•No they are not pleasant.’ :
‘Do you think Mrs. Vann knathe lemonade
she gave you was poisoned? -
He looked away and a pa* 5 '! expression
crossed his face.
‘How can I tell?’ he said, in {slightly impa
tient tone. ‘The whole affiir pomi so dread
ful. so unacconntible.’
‘What possible motive could si have in wish
ing 'o compesi your death?’ j
‘None, whatever that J can sej
I thought of the words I ha I ovhea-d between
her and Mrs. Fanshawe; but defau lt not wist
to repeat them.
‘You intend to let the wholesaler drop?’ I
ventured, after a dead silence ojimo moments
duration. ‘You will not seek > investigate it
fnrthei?’
No. Mrs. Vann is Louis9‘s i|ther. For my
wife's sake I could not expose If, even though
she should be proven guiltv whout a doubt.’
It was now clear to my mind foal he did not
connect Mrs. Fanshawe, in any mamaer, with
what had occurred. As for mo, l could not so
easily exonerate her from all gjjlt. /' a t sue
•>.
that
had been so artfully begun, but / lcil Gmi in
his wisdom had seen fit to frustr#
‘When did you bigin to nnsf’
treachery? I said, after a stcp*'I )ause '
was not the principal in the fcjfur, * felt
sure 1; but it remained an open dW* an stiff,
whether she was i.wire of the ternb’ crimo that
-this—
‘I scarcely know myself. 1 He spoke in a faint
voice, as if the whole subject wearied him be
yond expression.
‘Some days age, I think,* he said.
‘Of oourse, then, you must have suspected
from the* first, that the deadly drug was admin
istered in the lemonade?'
He shook his head-
'Don't ask me what I suspected, Miss Pal
grave. The whole affair fills mo with horror,
I would rather not discuss it -or even think of
it.‘
I was silenced. I had intented to lead his
thoughts back nntii they would seize npon Mrs.
Vann's true motive for what she had attempted.
But he was either unaware of it, or in the agita
tion of the moment, his mind refused to grap
ple with any horrible explanation of the heinous
orime.
Perhaps it was as well. I could not believe
the attempt upon his life would be repeated in
the same or any other form. Uader these cir
cumstances, it seemed unnecessary cruelty to
bring up anything to distress him.
Before I left him, he asked me one question
that I wonder he had not asked long before.
‘Is Louis Remington in the house, now?*
‘No, ‘ I answered. ‘He has gone away, thank
God, never to darken these doors again. ‘
‘He is better of his injuries? 1
•Much better. 1
There was a moment's silence, and then ho
looked up atjme with a forced, harsh laugh.
‘Notwithstanding that you pleaded tor him, I
doubt if you understand my forbearance toward
that man, little friend. Confess that you do
not.’
But I was too wise to confess anything of the
sort.
‘Dear sir,’ I said, ‘you have proven yourself
more lenient than many would have been in
your place. I honor you for it, and wish to
know no more.’
•But I would rather tell you why, when I bad
time for sober reflection, I was glad to let that
villain alone. Louise love; him or at least
fancies that she does, as you are already aware.
I pity her for cherishing such an infatuation
and earnestly desire to cure and save her. I
still have hopes that she may come, in time, to
regard me as a wife'should regard her husband.
But, if I had killed her lover, in a blind parox
ysm of passion, she would have hated me ever
afterwards.’
‘True, ‘ I said.
‘You see my forbearance was not wholly un
selfish, ‘ he went on, with a ghastly smile. ‘I
thought I could take her away again, where she
would not see him, and by and by she would
forget him, perhaps.*
‘Y< s, yes that is your only course—to separ
ate them utterly. The sooner the better.*
‘Of courpe Louise is weak, but she is not
wicked. With all her infatuation for that vil-
laiD, she would not forget her good name.*
He thought too highly of her good sense and
discretion. I longed to tell him so—to open his
eyes fully to the perfidy of the woman who bore
hi3 name. But it was a delicate matter in which
to meddle.
‘t-h came near forgetting it at one time, 1 1
cot Id not resist saying.
He flushed and looked troubled.
‘Iu France, yon mem, when she had planned
to elope with him ?’
•Yes ’
‘That was only a youtbfal escapade. I for
gave it, long ago ; and I believe Louise is sin
cerely gshamed of her own folly. She is wiser,
more experienced, now, and would hesitate a
long time before sacrificing wealth, position,
every ambition in life, for the best man living.’
, r. - u —thing; silence was my better course,
-as ifftalking to mmselt rathei'iua^th-iutj,— -xjtu,
I am sure she would stop short of aotual gnilt.
Had I not felt that conviction, Louis Reming
ton should not have remained an hour beneath
my roof, no matter how critical his condition.
And then she promised not to see him—did she
not Miss Palgrave. 1
‘Yes, ‘ I faltered, and was silent again.
•Of course she would keep her word. 1
She bad not kept it! But I did not say so.
Was I wrong in suffering him to retain the de
lusion. I do not know. Rising hastily, I
hurried away, lest the truth should escape me
ud aware.
R chard Vann met me in the hall. I think
he had been waiting there for me to come out.
‘I wish yon were as fond of s’tiing with me'as
with that dotard in yonder,’ be said, smiliDg
grimly, and bobbing his head in the direction
of the library.
•If you were ill, like Colonel Fanshawe, or
deserved my sympathy as fife does, perhaps I
might be,’ I retorted, and passed on.
A week went by uneventfully enough. Dur
ing all this time Colonel Fanshawe continued
to improve, and so rapidly that he was soon
able to leave his bed, and within a day or two
thereafter, to walk in the grounds a little while
at a time.
Dr. Stanley came regularly to Cedarcliffs, and
watched over his patient with assiduous care.
Not the shadow of a change in his symptoms
now escaped the physician’s experienced eye.
‘If they dose him with slow poison again, and
do it successfully,’ he said to me, one day, ‘it
will be because I have lost my cunning.’
Precisely who he meant to include in the
pronoun ‘they,’was known only to himself.’
I observed a change in Mrs. Fanshawe, as the
days wore on. A new, pensive grace seemed to
surround her. She wandered *way by herself
for horns at a time, and was more silent and
thoughtful than usual.
I could not help thinking she was brooding
over some new dream of which I knew nothing.
Towards her husband, she was more gracious
tban she had ever been. Indeed, she began to
make little effirts to please him, and direct
his (houglitSifi-om unpleasant themss. She no
longer avoidel^um as she had done, even while
he was soAli, —oat often came down stairs to si‘
withsLirnBand always exquisitely dressed. I
nevei a^flw a wooiau who si fully understood
the mysteries of a perfect toilet, or who could
so enhance herown charms by the accessories
of dre&.s. She af^ays looked like a picture i i
the long trailing; ;lt)es of sheeny silk she aff-. el-
ed, and I did not w ihder that Colonel Fanshawe
was so proud of his wife’s loveliness.
Ah ! how sad it r'stemed that an exterior fo
beautiful should enshi ,ne a nature corrupt and
rotten to the core !
Mrs. Vann I seldom saw during those days.
She kept out of my way as much as possible—a
consideration for wuich 1 felt devoutly thankful.
Richard did not'persecute me with his at
tention?. But I could not help seeing that hii
eyes swept over me gloatingly whenever we
chanced to me and something in their dark
depths seemed to say ‘I am biding my time.
And so the dayo s T enton, and by-and-by some
thing happened.
One phasant af.ernoon, I had gone into the
conservatory, and 9tood admiring the tall spike
of golden blossoms and the large Jj/ave8 of a
tropical plant, when I beard a sig ^ ar
from me. and looking through the l^een of
foliag , I saw M-a Fanshawe leaning J^aicst a
s’one va'-'e in whi«h bloomed a Chixf-'Se plant.
She was drt-ssed with ao unusual richness and
in an evening cos ime aasuited to, home in the
country. But shtTlisre/BfileTrs icti things, and
when the fauov tootyherFshe robed herself pic
turesquely without regard to appropriateness.
She wor9 a light-parl-Aray e>lk, and a garnet
a'-’.vet bodice, and! neckjace ot pearl's and gar-
nel s. She’looked Pf/>.VaI, but her face ex-
P/’X 4^^ vetya^Lf^iappiness under the
V
r* —
;*at was their habitual
expression. Presently I heard a rustle of the
foliage and saw Rjse Velorme approaching. She
came np to Mrs. Fanshawe hesitatingly and
with some show of trepidation. She had a light
shawl over her arm and something grasped in
her band,
‘What is it, Rise?’ said Mrs. Fanshawe, be
tween whom aud the girl, a very good under
standing had taken the place of the old dis
trust.
‘I picked up your fan in the grape arbor,
madam,’ Rose said, hesitatingly, ‘and thought I
would bring it to you before you missed it.’
•You are very kind.’
Mrs. Fanshawe said these words iu the sweet
est tones, but I could see she was surprised and
just a little annoyed.
‘I knew you would not lose the fan for the
world, madam.’
‘No, I should be sorry to part with it.’
Her thoughts seemed far away, broodiDg per
haps, over some rapture of their own that was
hidden from onr ken. She spoke dreamily, as
if half unconscious of her own mood, and the
glance of significant meaning R ise bent for an
instant upon her face, was unnoticed.
‘Here is the fan, madam.’ said Rise, with a
second odd glance at her Mistress, aud she laid
it carefully in Mrs Fanshawe’s lap and went her
way.
I knew, instinctively, there must be some hid
den meaning in this little incident; so I stood
watching Mrs. F^pshawe a moment and then
stepped quickly out from my screen of broad
leaves and came to her side. She looked up
quickly and colored as if annoyed. Then,
seemingly without thinking what she was doing,
she twirled the fan and opened it with a sad
den whirr.
Directly, I heard a faint, rustling sound, and
a folded siip of paper, exhaling a faint perfume,
fell at my feet.
It was the work of a second to saatoh it up
and hide it iD the palm of my hand. But quick
as was my movement, Mrs. Fanshawe saw the
note, and a cloud swept over her lovely face.
The same thought had struck us both, I think,
that this note was from Louis Remington, and
he had bribed Rose to convey it to her mispress
hidden in the fan.
As this suspicion came home more forcibly to
Mrs. Fanshawe’s mind, her eyes drooped, a
strange, ghaffly pallor overspread her features,
and her throat, as if she were choking.
At last she raised those long-lashed lids, and
her eyes sought mine for an instant. If a glance
could kill, I mast have been strteken dead at
her feet.
Excusing myself, I hastily repaired to my
own room, where my first act was to open the
note, which was not sealed.
I did not read it, but glanced hastily at the
signature. Srre enough, it was Louis Reming
ton’s name I read at the bottom of the sheet.
Not more than three minutes had elapsed be
fore my door opened suddenly, and Mrs. Fan-
shawe crossed the threshold.
‘You have stolen my property, ‘sue said, her
eyes flashing through the indignant tears that
filled them. ‘Return it this instant, or you will
have cause to repent your boldness.’
‘Your property ?• I echoed, disdainfully.
‘TLa’ is what I said, Marian Palgrave. I am
in no mood tor trifling. G.ve me back my own. ‘
‘If you mean the note I picked up in the li
brary, how do I know it is yours? There is no
address. It might ba written to me, or to your
husband, so far as that goes.*
This was true. I don't know what she read
in my face of the secret revolution I had formed,
but her own grew ashen white with the new
terror that crept over it. Coininj^straii'ht up to
me, she^y.id^Vc‘tdgTn'-TV*
‘No !‘ 1 cried, and clasped both hands ovar
mv bosom where I had hidden it.
The next instant her hot breath swept my
cheek. She clapped a handkerchief, exhaling a
subtle, pungent odor, to my nostrils. I grew
giddy-the room seemed to spin round and
round—I tried to scream ; to puih her off ! In
vain, all in vain ! I was speechless and helpless,
budden darkness swept before my eyes—I felt
myself falling- there were rifling hands at my
heart, and I knew no more.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
NATIONAL
SIIRGICM msTiroiii
The Atlanta Constitution says :
‘\Ye have been asked by a correspondent why
we endorse the National Surgical Institute so
emphatically. We reply, that it is because we
have invf s'lgated the system practised at. the In
stitution in the most thorough way. We have
visited it scores ot times when we were not
looked for. We have stood face to face with
hundreds of its patients in all stages of treat
ment, and we have heard but one opinion, and
have formed but one opinion concerning it, and
that it is absolutely reliable and efficient in
every sense of the word.*
Ex Gov. Joseph E. Brown, of Atlanta, says:
‘It affords me pleasure to state, that I have
been for several years acquainted with the gen
tlemen who control and manage the National
Surgical Institute of this place. They are high
ly educated, intelligent members of their
prof usion. They are very skillful, and have
performed some wonderful cures. I believe
them to be hones* and conscientious. They will
not flatter patients with delusive hopes to secure
patronage. They sland deservedly high as gen
tlemen and as citizens.*
Hon. Benj. H. Hill, of Georgia, says :
‘The National Surgical Institute has bean es
tablished in this city for several years. It has
established a high oharaoter in the treatment of
Deformities, Paralysis, and in the specialities it
(ff ts to treat. The gentlemea in charge are
highly esteemed iu our community for personal
worth, professional skill and good citizenship.
Both the Institute and the gentlemen in charge
h--re are entitled to the confidence of the
public.’
The Alabama Baptist says :
‘This Institution, with its several Branches,
is of National reputation, and is dfs^rvadly
very popular. The diseases and deformities
treated there are legion, and we consider it a
work of humaeity to scatter over a broad State
intelligence of an esUolishment to which hun
dreds of those blesied with its treatment turn
with grateful hearts. ‘ * * *
Any information concerning the Institute and
its Treatment, will be given with pleasure to
applicants, either personally or by letter.
Address
, A T atioii:il Surgical Institute,
Atlanta. Oco^ia.
< ■ » ■ ^
They tell this story on poor Henri Merger.
Ha was anything but a rapid writer, partly be
cause his pen was not fluent, partly because he
\vas too hungry to write. When Theodore Bir-
riere was trying to put Murger's Vie de Boheme
on the stage—a task in which he succeeded—he
said to Murger: ‘I oan understand that you are
unable to w6rk j ust after breakfast. You are di
gesting. But why on earth don't you set to
work as soon as you get up in the morning?'
Murger replied: My dear boy, in these matuti
nal hoars I am busy digesting my sleep.'
\