Newspaper Page Text
IAQS NO Jit
PURE CREAM TARTAR.
Tfi SIOOO. Given
n alum or any injurious Mibstiinoeacaii be found
In Andrews' Vearl Baking Powder. In it
tivtlypURE. licing endorsed, andUwtimonlabj
received from tiiich chemist as 8. Daiift Hays, Ho,
bin: M. I H'hifontalne, of Chicago; and Gustavus
Bodo, Milwaukee. Never fold In bulk.
C. E. ANDREWS A. CO.
45 Michigan Ay. 23". 2b & '.Wl K. Water
Evory Corset U warranted satis
factory to ita wearer lnevrr wav,
or the money will be refunded by
the porson from whom it wae bought.
ThonlyConprononneel by our len.liinf ! ''.J,,,n"
not Injurious tn the nwirer. and miU.mtl l.v l;oli.
"he "nwrt comfortable ami perfect fltUi.H t oix.1
FRIOT.. by Mull. Postage VuAA i -Heallk
Prearrrlnc 1.6. ir-Ad)iitli. 1.60
AMaatlnal (extra fceavy) .0. rlnc. &
Health FmerTlnc We eautll HM. l'iraon
(iklrl-f upporllug. l.f.
For sale ky leading Kelsll lrler eterywkree.
CHICAGO COKSET CO.. Chlcuico, 111.
A QUESTION OF
TAK1X0 Vr THK LIFE-BURDEN.
"Erica, I say Erica! Where
Sharn and clear came the voice from
the bed, speaking in the polished ac
cents of gentle birth and breeding, and
a thin white hand was put out, and
drew aside the curtain, and the largo
eyes, so bright still, peered out into the
A woman came in qnicklv from an
inner apartment, and stepped up to the
"Miss Erica's just gone to take a bit
o' rest, mistress, ' she said, (irmly but
gently, putting the hand that clutched
hers back under the bed covering.
41 What d'you want her for?"
"I am going soon very soon," the
clear voice answered, but weaker was
the tone. "1 must see her must! Do
you hear, Joan? (Jo, bring her and
She sank back as if exhausted, but
ber eyes wandered round the room yet.
"Arnold, mv nest-bcioven," sue unit-
tered. "Yes, lor thee, for thy salvation,
sue is strong.
"Mr. Arnold ain't here, mistress,"
said the attendant. "He's been sent
"Yes. yes, I know," said her mistress
restlessly, "(io, call Erica."
"Messed lamli: muttered the nurse
as she left the bedside, "and sho only
inst nuliwn "
She nassed back into the inner chain
ber, where a light was dickering in hn
fresh, damp sea breeze that blew in at
the open casement, carrying with it tuo
smeu oi mine and seaweed.
It lifted, too, and toyed with lightly.
the straying rings of chestnut hair lying
on mat voting girl s brow quite a
young girl a child, ind I. almost, for
sue seemed scarcely more than sixteen,
slender of make, exuuisitolv graceiul
in the perfect uhnntbm and repose of
her attitude as she lay, breathing softly
and quietly; yet even in sleep there lay
on the broad, grave brow an anxious,
sorrowful shade that told of nights or
watching, of constant grief pressing
on mind and body.
"Poor lassie!" said .loan, looking
down on her kindly. "It do seem a
shame to waken her, hut I must."
Jhit either Erica was scarcely asleep,
or even in sleep she was ever on the f
vice, for she opened ber eves great
heavily-fringed dark eyes 'suddenly,
and started up, pushing" the hair from
"What Is it. .loan?" she said under
her breath. "Mother "
"She wants you, dear," said the
nurse; "she called a while back, and
seems in a lidget-like for you, and keeps
on about Mr. Arnold."
The girl slipped off the couch a tall
Bhin figure c ad in loose while dressing
robe and glided silently into the next
room, nosing me uoor or coinniiliiiea'
tion. and came round to the bedside.
bending tenderly over the form lying
" on wanted me, dear mother," sho
Bald, gently. "I am here."
,,"Ah. you are here; you are my strong
Lrica," the. mother said, nnd a 'sigh of
satisfaction escaped her. "Kneel down,
child, and listen to tne."
Wondering a little, and fearing that
her mind was wandering, Erica knelt
beside the becl, holding In her warm and
firm clasp the clammy hand w hich ul-
reauy my ueavy m ners
I J a If
"1 am clear tu
Vernon spoke collectedly ana solemnly,
nnd a strange awe crept over the girl as
she listened. "J am very near my death,
nnd my mind knows no rest for tno fore
boding that is on my Hpirit for Arnold's
sake. Though he is not my son, 1 have
loved him aye, I do love him with a
strength that shall enduro beyond the
grave, for his mot her, my darling Mabel,
put him into my anus when she died,
and bade mo love him as my own. I
have done that aye, moro than I have
loved von, my poor child, who are my
cwn flesh and blood, lie needed it
moro he needed it morel Arnold is
weak and wayward," the dying woman
went on, "you are strong and steadfast
sullleient for yourself, sutlicientto guide
and protect. Erica, you love me'"' sho
said suddenly, half-raising herself and
tightening her hold of the girl's hand.
"Mother " The girl stopped,
choking down the burning, passionate
words that rushed to her lips could
words, indeed, utter the love she boro
that mother, who had given her only
the second plnre, after all? "Mother,"
she said, then, earnestly nnd softly,
"you know how I Jove you I 1 would
give my very life for your sake!"
Mis.'V'enion turned aside for a brief
moment. How cruelly that unselllsh
love reproached her now. hut still, for
Arnold's sake, she would prove it.
"You would lay down your life for
me." sho said slowly. "I believe you,
child, I ask you to do that. Hush!
hear me, I ask you to give it me in giv
ing it to Arnold. You start back. No,
I do not mean as his wile unless, in
future years, you both wish it but you
must be his protector against himself,
his guide, his strength. Arnold is
wayward and wild. Oh, Erica! my soul
quails to think of him left alone to fight
for himself in this dread battle-field of
temptation, and wrong, and sin. Ward
off the consequences or his falls, protect
him from' Awevil, whatever be the cost
to you or to others!" She lifted her
self now, laying an impassioned clasp
on the girl's shoulder, her eyes eager,
bright with the fervor of her appeal.
"Swear," she said in low passionate
tones, "swear by all your hopes of
Heaven, by all you value and hold dear
to love anil protect Arnold Murray
through evil rejmrt and good report, in
honor and dishonor; to shield him from
all danger, however incurred; to do this
without counting the cost to yourself
or others; to suffer loss, shame", misery
in his place! Swear, 1 say, and then
and then 1 can die!"
With a strange awe on her spirit, a
strange power hiving her soul under a
spell, from which she vet revolted in
the wild terror of her despair, the girl
put out her hands, as though bv that
she could ward oil the black cloud clos
ing so densely around her, speaking
with smoiiieren wows:
'Mother, mother! spare
that. 1 cannot do all that
UlUM lilt? fcVf. Vila (7 J 'HI . Ill-t
"Child. I am dying! 1 ask this last
proof of the love you say you bear me.
My soul is in torture win you not put
me out of pain, that I may die in
In quick, heavy sobs came the girl's
breath, in wild, excited throbs beat her
heart. Xo. it was not much only an
oath iii,!' in the presence of death, on
ly something thai should tie her with
strong cords band and foot.
Then she lifted her face, and slowly,
in measured accents repeated the terri
ble words that bound her to "shield Ar
nold Murray from all danger, in honor
or dishonor", not counting the cost to
herself or others."
And then she kissel the cross she
wore, and knelt on still with bowed
bead and clenched hands; and the wom
an fell back with a long sigh of relief,
anil waited quietly for death.
And thus Erica' took up her life bur
den. CHAPTER II.
"orit" .MISS EltlCA.
The sea lay glinting under the pleas
ant warm rays of an afternoon sua. A
bright, clear clay in September; the
fresh, suit breeze blew inland, curling
the tiny waves and cresting them with
white as they rippled in gently on to
the beach, and over the smooth green
rocks that lay farther away beyond the
limits of tne straggling village of
(iraylewas not a fashionable watering-place
nor one much visited at any
time of the year. Three trains stopped
in the course of the day at its quiet sta
tion and three went to Ijoudon; but it
was a picturesque and delightful place,
nevertheless, in which tired Londoners
could recruit' strength and health.
(irayle had no pier, no band, no
promenade, and no promenaders. The
population consisted for the most part
of fishing-people and farm-laborers, and
a few good families lived in those picturesque-looking
houses perched up on
There was only one man who owned,
and put out from Juno to October, a
couple of boats for the use of the few
who cared for the pleasure.
Sometimes ho went out with tho Ush-ing-boats.
sometimes he did a turn at
farm-work, and sometimes he was gen
eral "handy-man" to the big houses, as
they were held to be in this hamlet.
lie lived all alone in a little cottage,
away high up the cliff that frowned
down on (irayle to the northward a
queer, lonely place, perched on a bit of
table-land, bleak of all verdure the on
ly ascent to which was by a rough path
way; but as ho liked it, and in his
morose sort of way cnioved his exist
ence there, the folks left him to his
"Ho gets it for nothing almost," they
Raid, with knowing winks one to the
other; "leastways, he built the bit of a
place, and pays near nought for tho
l'or Nat I'ovnter had the reputation
of being fond of monev, and able to
drive a good bargain wilh a neighbor;
and yet, withal, a man not without cer
tain generous impulses; for instance,
he never could be persuaded to take
r xn. ... n i i. i ,
money irom jmiss r.nc.a, wiioin lie nan
known from tho time Mrs. Vernon am
her daughter had lived at (iravle, near
lv fight years imo. lie would take her
about anywhere in his boat; bad taught
her to row, and regarded her with
son oi dog-iiko amnion, winch was
perhaps the softening influence of his
rough, hard life. And when Mrs. Ver
non died he was sorely grieved because
Miss Erica went away to some distant
relation in Scotland, and the (irayle
House was shut up.
Nearly two years had passed since
then, and great was Nat's iov one dav
when passing he saw the window blinds
all up, the windows open, and various
signs or lire about the old house, and
was told that a gentleman from London
naa nought It, and was coming down to
live there for a time. And tho woman
from tho village, who was having
grand "clean nn." told him. with beam
ing face, that the gentleman was "Miss
"Our Miss Erica!" Bald she, scrub
bing vigorously. "Lord, to think of
that slip of a thing being married. She
as used to be out over the rocks half
her time, with ber pretty bare feet,
CAIRO BULLETIN : SUHJJAY MUlimiNU. UUlUUHiK 8. 1882.
a-dreainin' and a-readm' all her lifo."
And now this particular afternoon.
Nat I'ovnter stood on the beach, one
foot resting on the side of his boat,
which he had redecorated for "Miss
She had arrived the day before, but
bad not been down on the beach. Nat
thought she might be coming down and
want a spell on tho sea this fine after
noon: so ho bad everything ready, and
as ho Btood so waiting, smoking bis
short pipe, and screwing up his eyes in
the sun, ho mused on tho turn of affairs,
and on the appearance oi a gentleman
whom he fancied to be Miss Erica's
husband that he bad seen walking down
the High-street in the mowing a tall,
handsome man, with delicate and
haughty features, somewhat stern and
grave, the boatman thought.
"llulloa, Natl" said a voice; and a
burly lisherman lounged up with his
bands in, his pockets.
"Million, Jem!" responded Nat, with
out moving or scarcely looking at his
mate. "Heard the news, Jem?"
Nat removed his pipe from his mouth
to blow a cloud of smoke from his lips,
and tilted his boat backwards and for
wards as ho spoke.
"News?" Jem was slow and rather
apathetic, as countrymen are, but the
sound of news stirred btm a little. "No;
onlv that (.irayle House is took."
"That's the news. Don't you know
it's our Miss Erica as is tho gentleman's
"No o!" said Jem, with a protracted
dwelling on tho "o" that expressed
some bewilderment. "Miss . Erica!
Lord! Miss Erica! 'Oo's the gentle
man?" "Don' know," said Nat. "If it's him
I saw to-day, he looks a haristocrat,
every hineh of him."
Jem mused in silence for a moment
and then lounged away, uttering anew,
"Miss Erica! Good Lord!"
"Nat, Natl dear old Nat!" cries a
young, silvery voice. The shingles are
scattered far and wide, and down the
sliadving beach comes bounding a tall,
lithe ligiire, whose every movement is
grace. Her soft hair is Hying about
her, her eyes bright with glad greeting;
and she fays her two bare hands on
one of which gleams the golden circlet
on his, and smiles into his uncouth
face beaming now with delight.
"Lord, now; didn't I think you'd be
down? and 1 got the boat ready and all
and so you're married. Miss Erica
hum 1 mean I ax pardin, ma'am."
"Never mind, never mind that," said
Erica, laughing, and coloring a little
too. "I'm Miss Erica still, vou know,
to all mv friends. How good of you to
get the boat readv oh, it's the dear old
Water Nymph, how grand she looks,"
and straightway Miss Erica vaulted
lightly into the boat and seated herself
in the stem, leaning her elbows on ber
knees, and her firmly-rounded chin on
her hands, looking up with those lieau
tiful eyes which have never lost a cer
tain sadness of expression they had
even as a child. And now too. that the
first gladness of this renewal of old ac
quaintanceship is subdued, the face
loses its bright flush and gayety and
settles into gravity.
"I did her up for you, miss ma'am,"
said Nat. pulling himself up; "it does
seem nice to see you settin' there quite
corafor'ble like. And so you're mar
ried. Miss Erica."
"Yes, Nat. I'm married," answered
the girl smiling. "Weren't vou sur
prised when you heard who had bought
"I was that pleased, ma'am." said Nat
with rough energy, "there, I can't tell
re. w hen 1 know'd you was the geune-
man's wife, he u going to live here?"
"Oh, no. Nat." Mr. St. John, that is
my husband, is a writer writes books,
vou know, and he has to live in London;
out he s ln-n working too hard, ami so
I asked him to come here for a time."
"Aye, I expect you haven't to ask for
nought but once, missy," said Nat,
l.ui'.'liing. and Erica smiled and looked
iff to the sea, and went on speaking.
I ve been married nearly a year. Nat.
but I've not been in Imdon; we have
been mostly in Scotland, up in the north,
yachting, because Mr. St. John was
old he must rest. '
"Was that hint, miss ma'am. I mean
I'm just nought but a stupid " said
l'oynter, pushing his hat "alt," "as I
see this mornin' in the village a tall
gentleman, w ith a moustache, no beard,
or w hiskers like?"
I'hatwas mv husband." Erica said.
and smiled and looked thoughtful,
again resting her cheek on her hand;
then she lifted her eyes to Nat's face.
and hair laughed, tor Rhe could read
the shade of dissatisfaction there.
"What's tho matter. Nat?" said she.
"Something doesn't please you."
"Please mel" Nat looked rather un
comfortable at being read so. but added:
A very proud genneman jur. at. John,
Miss Erica. Looks stern like, and sort
"What, Nat?" said the girl, curiously.
"Well, miss, I can't explain, not be
ing no scholard. I shouldn't like to
cross him, Miss Erica," said Nat l'oyn-
icr; "out iiru, wnai ao i Know, ami a
man isn t none the worse for aving a
temper or ins own."
"No, indeed, Nat," said Erica,
thoughfiillv, and half sighed, "hut I
know you'll like him, Nat," she added:
"he looks haughty, but ho isn't, really.'
"I'd like him for your sake, missy,"
said l'oynter. "Is Mr. Arnold well,
The girl started and flushed suddenly
over cheek and brow.
Nat noticed this; he was sharp and
shrewd, and not many things escaped
him. It seemed an effort for Erica to
"Yes," sho said, "he is well. Hois
away abroad, vou know."
She stopped a moment, and then said,
looking up steadily into Nat's rough
"Nat, I think you would do something
for me; yes, 1 know you would." Then,
hurriedly, as ho was about to reply: "I
want you never to ment ion Mr. Arnold
at all to to my husband, nor to anyone
about here. You see, Nat, he doesn't
even Know t nave a cousin. 1 haven t
told him Mr. Arnold is you know, Nat,
"I understand, Miss Erica," said the
man, slowly, "and I wouldn't bo the
one to make mischief. I won't say
noinin' a i tout mm."
"Thank vou. Nat."
Only those simple words, in which lay
who knows what humiliation and pain
to her to say, and she looked again over
tho dancing waters, and could scarce
see them for tho mist that clouded over
Nat, with a rough instinct that his
ninTuuii mm iumn r,i icii nave mm, turn
ed away from the subject.
"Dont you want to go out, miss-
ma anii"' said he; "it s a nice arternoon.
1 on aln t forgot your rowing?"
"Oh, no, Nat." K
M. John rouwd herself and
snoko brightly ami n.
,.",Mr,,s.VJoi'P 8 c,?m,n town In ft
nine w nn. no is a nrst-rate oarsman;
you'll like to see him pull. Ah, there
he Is. coming down the hniudi
And with a light springhyj step down
seen that morning, tall and lithe, with
a singular grace and freedom of move
ment. Tho eyes of these two men, who were
placed in their positions as widely apart
as the poles, yet whose lives were to bo
so interwoven, met, and each scanlied
Hie other in the brief moment that
Philip St. John took to reach the boat;
tho gentleman with one sweeping
glance taking iu tho rough, untutored
face, the shrewd eyes, the close-set
mouth of the plebeian, seeing more in
that one glance than Nat l'oynter could
read in tho longer gaze of his eyes. Hut
the inward impression of neither was
Philip St. John answered, with a
courteous bend of his head, the salute
of the boatman, and then turned, with
an instant softening of every feature, to
"I knew w here to look for you, Erica,"
ho said. "Making friends with the sea
and an old acquaintance."
"Aye, sir," said Nat; "me and Miss
Erica's old friends leastways, I mean
Mrs. St. John. I axe your pardon, sir.
I'm so used to call her Miss Erica, I
don't know as how I shall ever get to
call her aught else."
"A slight offence, indeed, friend,"
w ith a half smile, grave, yet lighting.up
his face for a moment with singular
brightness. "Call her what you will.
Habit is a close friend. Is this your
"Yes, sir. I got it ready for missy.
She'd like to go out, perhaps, such a fine
arternoon. Will you, sir?"
The girl glanced up into Philip's face
with a mule seconding of that request;
but she did not ask it in words.
Nevertheless, he seemed to read her
eyes, and smiled again.
"I need not ask you, Seagull," he
said. " ou are scarcely happy off the
water. Will you take an oar?"
"Oh yes. please. Philip."
"Hut ymi had better put in a pair of
sculls, too," Philip added, stepping into
the boat, which l'oynter had dragged
down close to the sea readv to be shoved
off. And Nat, producing the required
sculls, gave the ''Water Nymph".a vig
orous imsh into the waves, and she
went dancing over the sparkling blue
water like a thing of life, and Erica
waved her hand back to him with a
"What a delieionslv pxhilaratinir fppl
ing it gives one," said she, as Philip's
long, swnt stroKe wok mem a nttie
distance from the shore, "to feel the
boat go off and dance like a feather on
the water. Don't you seem to cut all
connection with the earth and all
trouble and care, Philip?"
He glanced up at her half smiling,
bending lightly to the oars, and then
slightly shook his head.
"As we carry ourselves with us every
where, I scarcely think we cut connec
tion with care, Erica," be said, an al
most unconscious bitterness in tone and
look; "but then you are young, and
there are all sorts of possibilities to
"Why, Philip," the girl said, "you
talk as if you had grown old. You are
only twenty-eight now, and that is
"Ah, yes, so it is. I was not talking
of years so much as feeling, though we
mav be forty at twenty."
Erica for a moment was silent, then
6he said, wistfully:
"hut you, Philip " and paused.
"Yes, but I " He rested on his
oars, suffering the boat to drift slowly
under the warm sunshine that lay oil
sea and sky.
" You have no care, riiilip?" she said,
He pulled a few quick strokes before
he answered her, then once more lay to.
"I have none. Erica, that your bright
smile and gentle voice cannot lull to
rest; none but what a restless ambition
fnr u'hi'h fiA tvnrTrf ia all tvr a 1
none but what my own temper of mind
give me. and that, perhaps, is a letracv
of wrong. Did you look for a sunnv
spirit in your husband, Erica? I don t
ininK l am all you rancted when I was
your lover, am I?"
ine girl lilted a startled look to his
face, and flushed to her very brow, but
she answered him steadily.
l never tanned vou other than you
are. Philip. If I understand you letter,
that is all the difference, if there is any
She scarcely knew of any herself; that
undefined feeling she had for him.
mingling with, and perhaps shadowing,
all her deep love for him, had not arisen
since her marriage; it had always been
in her heart.
"How should I have a sunnv spirit?"
Philip said, leaning his cheek on his
hand, and speaking, it seemed, less to
her than himself. "How should I be
other than I am? I have only known
what rest, happiness is since I knew
you, Erica, and thus I could scarcely
school myself to think that you really
"Philip! Philip!" Erica stretched out
her hands, her eyes full of wistful plead
ing. "You know it now, don't you?
Why were you mistrustful of me?"
"Why, Erica?" He had not noticed
her movement, and her hands dropped
again on her knees. "Ilecause I had
grown to think I was never meant for
love. I had never told you anything of
my boyhood it is difficult to me to drag
these things to light, even to you; but
the mood is on me now, I suppose, and
I can speak. I was the child of injus
tice, and you know enough of me, per
haps, to wonder that I am not a devil,
rather than a man who can love; yet, I
am the eldest, but I was always thrust
aside and punished for wrongs I had
never done; rebuked for haughtiness,
reserve, what not, when my heart only
yearned for love. My wishes were
thwarted at every turn. Perhaps it was
my fault in part. I know I am naughty
and passionate of temper, that I am dis
dainful and impatient of inferiority,
and 1 have a hundred other faults. Ac
school and at college I made no friends,
no one liked me, though everybody
praised me; some, I think now, would
have been mv friends, but that 1 checked
all advances, deeming them in my cyni
cism mere sycophants. There was only
one being I loved, mv brother Walter,
though for him I was set aside, and that
is because he is weak and clings to me
as the Ivy to the oak. Will his love
last, I wonder, such as it is?
"It is strange," he said, "how some
seem marked out to take all the
bulletins and stings Fate can lav on
them. Why, my very dumb favoriteB
died or latled mo. J. lie horse l rocie
was killed, the dogs I petted scarcely
loved me; am: tne uog t lovea anove
thera all turned on me one day in some
freak of temper, and wounded me in
the hand. You can see the scar now."
Ho glanced down with a bitter, half
contemptuous smile to the white nerv
ous hand that lay on his knee. "I don't
know why he did it; I was never harsh
to him, but he whined and fawned on
me a minute after. I spumed him
away, and never touched him again,
never gave caress or look, though he
often came about me and looked at me
with those dumb brown eyes."
lie paused, and the dark eyes drooped
till the loug lashes hid them, and Erica
shrank back and half whispered; ' ,
map, now implacable you are." ;
"I am sorry now; perhaps 1 was too
hard," he answered, lifting his head
again; "but I was full or bitterness
then. Don't you see, Erica, it was not
Ihe physical wound that hurt me, it
was the repetition of tho suine Injustice
that had ground me down through life.
I don't know but w hat I should do the
same now if I were touched nearly
Never could the girl analyze the feel
ing that made her next words spring
like lightning to her lips, mid pass them
ere she had time to think.
"If I, Philip-if I failed you " she?
said, bending forwards; "if I failed in
love, in duty "
hut she shrank back, quailing at the
sudden Hash that leapt like lurid light
into the brilliant eyes, at the stern pas
sion that whitened his very lips.
"Philip, Philip," she uttered, "forgive
me. I 1 was but In jest " '
"Never jest then on such a subject;
that touches mo very nearly, remem
ber." It was all he said, and then he took
up the sculls again, and began pulling
Afterwards in the long, long years
that came, she could recollect that he
had not answered her question.
A shadow fell on her spirit, a sort of
gloom; his sternness had chilled ber it
eemed, indeed, to ber almost harsh,
and she sat perfectly quiet, looking out
over the sea, which somehow bad grown
grey and cheerless to her; yet the sun
shone warm on her cheek, and tho
waves glinted under its yellow rays;
the fault lay in herself.
She could' not force herself to renew
the conversation, to speak all her sym
pathy, tho love sho yearned to lay at
his feet. Ah, did he comprehend how
she loved him?
"I should like to take an oar, Philip."
she said, presently, rousing herself with
an effort; "I am cold."
He ran in his sculls at once, and roso
up to give her his hand as she stepped
to the stroke seat, and as his hand
clasped hers closely, be bent his head
and Kissed her forehead tenderly.
"Forgive, forget my harshness, my
child," he said, softly, regretfully; "bear
with me a little. Erica."
She answered him only by a swift up
ward glance, and a tremor of the sensi
tive lips; but he read in that that sho
had no power to speak, and then quiet
ly he gave her the oar and resumed his
And the light cloud passed, but not
quite, for to Erica that slight episode
had awakened into life a know ledge of
one more phase of Philip's chaiacter,
and her soul shrank and trembled as
she thought of a possible conflict that
might arise. Two duties, and whieu
THE FIRST CLOU) RISES.
Tliedusk of the short Sept cmler even
ing was falling fast, the shadows were
? lathering over the sea. and turning the
leaving waters into slale-grey; and a
thin autumnal mist had crept up and
lay like a gossamer web over every oli
iect, chilling the air which had lately
been so bright and warm.
Erica sat by the window of the library
at Grayle House, her hands lyiiflg idly
on her lap, her dark eyes, grave and
even sad m repose, gazing out over the
expanse of rock-girt sea. She was mus
ing over many things over the glimpse
that Philip had given her of hi3 unloved
boyhood and early manhood, grieving
over the wrong done him and the well
nigh irretrievable havoc created in a
nature still so noble, so capable of
commanding love; unconsciously almost
comparing him with Arnold, who had
been loved and petted from bis birth.
And what was he? Weakness was
the least of his faults, for ho was both
selfish and headstrong, and uncon
trolled. Shallow of nature, yet possess
ing a certain brightness and lovableness
of temperament, which blinded many
to his failings, ho had just passed
through college, without much credit to
himself, and deeply in debt, and he was
now abroad as far as Erica knew.
The bitter sting that poisoned all
Erica's happiness was the knowledge
that Arnold Murray was no honor to
his name or hers. This w as w hat she
shrank from telling Philip. Philip,
whose notions of honor were so sternly,
fastidiously strict, who counted an in
fringement of honor the blackest sin,
and made but little allowance, perhaps,
for temptations; and who. if he knew
Arnold's career, would have at once
parted her from him, nor have suffered
his wife to hold any communication
with a man who has no high reputation
for spotless honor. Not in nis own
loved brother even would he have for
given any fall from wMinse. He had
said to linn, not sternly, hut with a
steadfastness in tone and look that
Walter had understood, when tho
younger brother was going up to Ox
"You are very dear to me Walter, but
on the day that you forget that you are
a gentleman ami a m, .lohn, i shall tor
gf-t that I have a brother."
How then could Erica fulfil the onth
she had made (hat dav marked out in
her life as in letters of tire? Was she
not to guard Arnold, 1o protect him?
Had not already her duties clashed? To
ber the sacredn'ess of that oath was ab
solute; she could conceive of nothing
which should lustily her in breaking it.
She had bravely suffered in silence,
tacitly deceiving her husband, deeming
Bitch deception the lesser of two wrongs.
So the girl mused sadly enough this
chi September evening, dimly con
scious oi the monotonous mutter of the
waves on Hie rocks, and the swift
Bcratching of Philip's pen as it flew
over the paper. He sal w riting at the
table, hut not so absorbed in his work
that he did not observe her silence and
abstraction. Perhaps, after all, it was
h dull lifo he bad bound her to. wedded
to a man ten years older than herself,
he thought nay, scarcely thought, for
the vairue suggestion of which he was
simply conscious never framed itself to
anything so tangible even as inougut.
lie threw down the pen at last, and
roso up. coming over to where sho sat.
"It is too dark to see," he said, "and I
am but a dull companion for you
Erica. You are very silent and tmta
Sho started from her reverie, and col
oring a little pushed her hands through
the wavv hair that fell about ber.
"I thought you were busy," sho Raid,
half apologetically. "Shall I ring for
"No, not Just yet, unless you want
them; it is pleasant resting thus," an
swered Thilip, leaning against the window-frame.
"That manuscript can go
out to-morrow morning; 1 can post It
myself to-night. I am getting restless
Erica, to go back to work an d life."
"You are a truo Londoner," said
Erica, laughing; "you cannot bo happy
long parted from beloved pavements
and delightful dissipations."
"In which, I apprehend, my wild sea
gull Is longing to join," Philip said with
"I shall be dreadfully unworldly, I
am afraid, riiilio." said Erica, siahlnor.
Chills and Fever.
Hlmmoni I.Ivor Kugu
fever out ol the Hntum.
1 1 cures when all other
For the relief knd cure
of thin dUtruiiitlnK dla-i-ann
tine SI mm emu Liv
Tho Regulator will poHltlvtdy euro this twrlhlo
dleatt. We aonert emphatically what we know to
hould not bo regarded h a trifling ailment. Na
ture deniuniln the tittnoM regularity of tho hoivula,
Tliureforu aiHiyt nature by taking Hnninonn Liver
HeKulator. It U harmlcen, mild and effectual.
One or two tablcHpoouftiln will relieve all the
trouble incident to a Milium mate, nuch an ISaunea
niEKluem, DrowKlncKd, Dlhtresa alter eating, a hit
ter bad taste In the mouth.
l'emone may avoid all attack by occanlonally
taking a done of.Hlmiuutu Liver Hcuulator to.keeu
the livur In healthy action.
generally arlaing from a diHordered atoiuach, can
be corrected by taking Simmons Liver Regulator.
Simmons Liver Hegulat r t oon eradicates this dim
ease from thu Jlem, braving the skin clear and
free from all iDipurltief.
Children sufl'erlDg with folic soon experience ro
liefwhen Hlinnions Liver Regulator is administer
ed. Auniiaa so derive irrcai tiwient from in
medlrilie. It iu llllt linillltHHHIit It In hurmli.aa
and effective. I'uyjy vegi lalila.
Moat llf Ihe (1lMaAMi' ol ttie hliidttiif orh'lliHle frnlil
these of the kidneys. KeKluru the action of thu
liver fully and both the kidneys and bluader will
IWTake onlv the genuine, width always has on
i ne wrapper me reu t, intuu mar a ami signaiuru oi
For sale by all drugilnts.
THK M.H Itr.MCDY.
HOPS I MALT
AND BLOOD rUHlPlE.
Thla new Remrdy la compounded
from the bent known curatives, such
Hops, Malt Extract, Caicara Sagrada
(Sacred Harki, buchu, Dandelion and
8araapar:lla, combined with an agree
ablo .romatic Elixir.
These Remedies art upon the Liver.
They act upon the Kidneys.
They Regulate the towels.
They Quiet the Nervous System.
They Promote Digestion
They Nourish, Strengthen, Invigorate.
They give Tone, Health and Energy.
HOPS AND MALT BITTERS
re the ORIGINAL and ONLY BIT
TERS containing Malt Extract.
Atkyour lJruRjjist i'.r tlicm. and U sure
that the label hat on it the lour words
HOPS AND MALT BITTERS
in large red letters.
ftyTake no other. J
At Wholnale and Retail liy all dealers.
ttOCnSSTEB aiEIilCiXB CO.p
Rochester, X. I.
Indian Blood Syrup.
j IivspejiHa, Liver Ida
fases. Fever and Ague
Heart liiteaae, lilliuus
iiPM. Nervous Debility
THK 15 EST KF.MKDY KNOWN TO MAX!
Iwelve Thousand Mottles
Sold Since 1870!
This Svrtii )0esses varied properties: It stim
ulates tho piyallne In the saliva, which convert
the starch and sugar of tho fiHid into L'lucose. A
deficiency in ptyailno causes wind ana souring of
the food In tint stomach. If the medtciua jvaasn
Immediately after eating, thu fermentation ol toed
It acts uuoti the I.lver.l
It aeta upon the Klilue),
It KeKiihiti'K the Howels,
It Purities the Mood.
It ynli'ta the .Nervous System,
It Promotes Digestion,
It Nourishes, Strengthen! Rtiil Invigorates,
It Curries oft" the Old Mood ami makes New.
It Opens the Ports oi thu Sklu anil Induces
It noutrallr.ea tho hereditary taint, or poison In
tho Mood, which generates Scrofula, Krvslpelas,
and all manner of Skin Diseases and Internal hu
mors. There aro no spirits employed In its manufacture
ami it tan ho taken by the most delicate babe, or by
the aod and fueble, caro only being required In at
tend n to directions.
Oalva, Henry County, Ills.
I was differing from Sirk Headache and blr.zl
nnss so thai I could not attend to my household du
ties, ami a short trial of Dr. (Mark Johnson's Indi
an lllood Syrup elfeciuallv cured me,
MRS IIBLUN ELK IN 4,''
Waterman Station, beKalurv-'$'ls.
This Is to certify that lr Clark 4iyi,son'e Indian
Blond Syrup has cured unj nf-piu'u In thu Hack. It
is a valuahle medlclno, MRS WOOD,
" Centre Hill, Whlto Co., Ark.
.J-iu'i. 1i to certify that 1 was aflllctud with Palpi
tation of thu Heart for many years 1 tried dlller
ent doctors, whoso prescriptions tended more to
weaken mo than they did to Mreniitlieu. 1 ai last
res dved to try Dr. Clark Johnsons Indian Rlond
Hytnp, which provod to ho a positive euro not on.
ly curing tho Heart Disease, hut also a Sick Head
ach which had boon troubling me,
MRS MARY A. NKAL.
I was aluictod with Mvor Complaint and Dyspep
sia and fallod to get relief, although using modi,
clnes from our host doctors. I commenced using
Dr. Johnson's Indian lllood Syrup, and a short trial
cured me. T. W. RIB1N0, Wollno, III.
This certifies that Dr. Clark Johnson's Indian
Blood Syrup hns effectually cured m of Dyspepsia.
Too much cannot be said In tiralso of It.
W. K. Wl.MMtK, Bodford, Mo.
Agent wanted for tho salo of the Indian Blood
Syrup in every town or vlllago, in which I have no
goni, Particulars given on application
DRUGGISTS BELL IT.
Ubratorr 77 Woet Sd it., N.Y. CUv.