The Richmond Palladium, Friday, October 26, 1906.
Page Seven.
Y
By KATHERINE CECIL THURSTON,
Author of "The Circle." Etc.
Copyright. 1004. by
As he turned the handle or his own
floor some one stirred iside the sitting
room. Still under the Influence of the
Ktones and trees that he had Just left,
he moved directly towad tbej sound
and. without waiting for 'pVniission,
entered the room. After the darkness
of the passage it seemed well alight,
for, besides the lamp with its green
Fhade, a large fire burned in the grate
and helped to dispel the shadows.
As he entered the room Chileote rose
and came forward, his figure thrown
Into strong relief by the double light.
He was dressed in a shabby tweed
suit; his face looked pale and set with
a slightly nervous tension. But, besides
the look and a certain added restless
ness of glance, there was no visible
change. Reaching Ixnler, he held out
his hand.
"Well?" be said quickly.
The other looked at him questlon
Ingly. -We!l? Well? How has it gone?"
The scheme? Oh, excellently!" Co
der's manner was abrupt. Turning
from the restless curiosity in Chilcote's
j eyes, he moved a little way across the
room and began to draw off his coat.
Then, as If struck by the Incivility of
the action, he looked back again. "The
! Fcheme has gone extraordinarily." he
j Bald. "I could almost say absurdly.
There are some things, Chileote, that
fairly bowl a man over."
I A great relief tinged Chilcote's face.
"Good!" he exclaimed. "Tell me all
j about it.
I But Loder was reticent. The mo-
j ment was not propitious. Tt was as If
' i a hungry man had dreamed a great
I banquet and had awakened to his star-
ration. He was chary of Imparting his
! visions.
j "There's nothing to tell," he said
j shortly. "All that you'll want to know
Is here In black and white. I don't
f think you'll find I have slipped any
; thing. It's a clear business record."
j From an Inner pocket he drew out a
I Lnlky notebook and, recrossing the
! room, laid It open on the table. It was
j a correct, even a minute, record of ev
! ery action that had been accomplished
j In Chilcote's name. "I don't think
t you'll find any loose ends," he said as
j he turned back the pages. "I had you
I and your position in my mind all
I through. He paused and glanced up
j from the book. "You have a position
j that absolutely insists upon attention,"
! he added In a different voice.
At the new tone Chileote looked up
i as well. "No moral lectures!" he said,
with a nervous laugh. "I was anxious
to know If you had imlled it off and
you have reassured me. That's enough.
I was In a funk this afternoon to know
how things were going one of those
pudden, unreasonable funks. But now
" that I see you" he cut himself short
and laughed once more "now that I
pee you. I'm hanged if I don't want to
prolong your engagement."
;. Loder glanced at him, then glanced
: away. He felt a quick shame at the
; eagerness that rose at the words a
surprised contempt at his own readi-
1 ness to anticipate the man's weakness.
But almost as speedily as he had turn
- ed away he looked back again.
"Tush, man!" he said, with his old
Intolerant manner. "You're dreaming.
J You've had your holiday, and school's
begun again. You must remember you
; are dining with the Charringtons to-
I bight. Young Charrington's coming of
j age quite a big business. Come along.
II want my clothes." He laughed and,
i moving closer to Chileote, slapped him
I on the shoulder.
Chileote started; then, suddenly be-
coming imbued with the other's man
ner, he echoed the laugh.
"By Jove," he said, "you're right!
You're quite right. A mau must keep
his feet in their own groove." Raising
: his hand, he began to fumble with his
tie.
But Loder kept the same position.
I ''You'll find the check book in its usual
drawer," he said. "I've made one
i entry of 1100, pay for the first week.
; The rest can stand over until" lie
I paused abruptly.
Chileote shifted his position. "Don't
talk about that. It upsets me to antic
, .pate. I can make out a check to
l morrow payable to John Loder."
"No. That can wait. The name of
Xoder is better out of the book. We
; ran't be too careful." Loder spoke
; with unusual impetuosity. Already a
' flight, unreasonable jealousy was col
' oring bis thoughts. Already be grudged
the idea of Chileote with his unstable
) plance and restless fingers opening the
j drawers and sorting the papers that
. for one stupendous fortnight had been
Ids without question. Turning aside,
( he changed the subject brusquely..
"Come into the bedroom," he said.
Tfs half past 7 if it's a minute, and
i Ihe Charrington's show is at 9." With
: Put waiting for a reply, he walked
across the room and held the door
- Pn. ,' wAv -
There was no silence while they ex-
t-banged clothes. Loder talked contin-
uously. sometimes in short, curt sen- j
. tences. sometimes with Ironic touches
, of humor; he talked until Chileote,
strangely affected by contact with an
l other personality after his weeks of
i solitude, fell under his influence, his
: excitement rising, his imagination stir
I ring'at the novelty of change. At last,
. parbed once more In the clothes of his
; own world, -he passed from the bed
room back Into the sitting room and
i there halted, waiting for his com
; panion.
Almost directly Loder followed. He
i came into the room quietly and, mov-
Ing at once to the table, picked up the
f notebook.
! "I'm not going to preach," he began,
"so you needn't shut me up. But I'll
pay just one thing a thing that will
get said. Try to keep your hold!
Remember your responsibilities . and
keep your hold!" He spoke energetical
ly, looking earnestly Into Chilcote's
ryes. He did not realize It. but he was
pleading for his own career.
THE
Harper i Brothers
Chileote paled a little, as he always
did la face of a reality. Then be ex
tended his hand.
"My dear fellow," he said, with a
touch of hauteur, "a man can general
ly be trusted to look after his own life."
Extricating his hand almost immedi
ately, he turned toward the door and
without a word of farewell passed into
the little ball, leaving Loder alone in
the sitting room.
CHAPTER XII.
N the night of Chilcote's re
turn to his own Loder tasted
the lees of life poignantly for
the first time. Before their
0
curious compact had been entered upon
he had been, if not content, at least
apathetic; but with action the apathy
had been dispersed, never again to re
gain its old position.
He realized with bitter certainty
that his was no real home coming. On
entering Chilcote's house he had ex
perienced none of the unfarniliaritj',
none of the unsettled awkwardness,
that assailed him now. There he had
almost seemed the exile returning aft
er many hardships; here, in the atmos
phere made common by 3-ears, he felt
an alien. It wa3 illustrative of the
man's character that sentimentalities
found no place in his nature. Senti
ments were not lacking, though they
lay out of sight, but sentimentalities
he altogether denied.
Left alone In the sitting room after
Chilcote's departure, his first sensation
was one of physical discomfort and
unfamiliarity. His own clothes, with
their worn looseness, brought no sense
of friendliness such as some men find
in an old garment. Lounging and the
clothes that suggested lounging had no
appeal for him. In his eyes the garb
that implies responsibility was sym
bolic and even inspiring.
And as with clothes so with his
actual surroundings. Each detail of
his room was familiar, but not one had
"You would not desert met"
ever become intimately close. He had
used the place for years, but he had
used It as he might use a hotel, and
whatever of his household gods had
come with him remained, like himself,
on sufferance. His entrance into Chil
cote's surroundings had been altogeth
er different. Unknown to himself, he
had been in the position of a young
artist who, having roughly modeled in
clay, Is brought into the studio of a
sculptor. To his outward vision ev
erything Is new, but his inner sight
leaps to instant understanding. Amid
all the strangeness he recognizes the
one essential the workshop, the atmos
phere, the home.
On this first night of return Loder
comprehended something of his posi
tion, and, comprehending, he faced the
problem and fought with it.
lie had made his bargain and must
pay his share. Weighing this, he had
looked about his room with a quiet
gaze. Then at last, as if finding the
object really sought for, his eyes had
come round to the mantelpiece and
rested on the pipe rack. The pipes
stood precisely as he had left them.
He had looked at them for a long time,
then an ironic expression that was al
most a smile had touched his lips, and,
crossing the room, he had taken the
oldest and blackest from its place and
slowly filled it with tobacco.
With the first indrawn breath of
smoke his attitude had unbent. With
out conscious determination he had
chosen the one factor capable of eas
ing his mood. A cigarette is for the
trivial moments of life; a cigar for its
fulfillments, its pleasant, comfortable
retrospections; but in real distress in
the solving of question, the fighting of
difficulty a pipe is man's eternal
solace.
So he bad passed the first night of
his return to the actualities of life.
Next day his mind was somewhat set
tled, and outward aid was not so essen
tial; but, though facts faced him more
solidly, they were nevertheless very
drab in shade. The necessity for
work, that blessed antidote to ennui,
no longer forced him to endeavor. He
was no longer penniless, but the money
he possessed brought with it no de
sires. When a man has lived from
hand to mouth for years and sudden
ly finds himself with 100 in his pocket
the result is sometimes curious. He
finds with a vague sense of surprise
that he has forgotten how to spend.
That extravagance, like other artificial
passions, requires cultivation.
This he realized even more fully on
the days that followed the night of his
first return, and with it was born a
new bitterness. The man who has
friends and no money may find life
difficult, but the man who has money
and no friend to raJales- la his-fortuno
or uenent oy his gc-nerosity 13 aioor
indeed. With the leaven of Incredulity
that works in all strong natures. Loder
distrusted the professional beggar;
therefore the charity that bestows eas
ily and promiscuously was denied him,
and of other channels of generosity he
was too self contained to have learned
the secret.
When depression falls upon a man
of usually even temperament it de
scends with a double weight. The
mercurial nature has a hundred coun
terbalancing devices to rid itself of
gloom a sudden lifting of spirit, a
memory of other moods lived through,
other blacknesses dispersed by time,
but the man of level nature has none
of these. Depression when it comes
is Indeed depression; no phase of mind
to be superseded by another phase, but
a slackening of all the chords of life.
It was through such a depression as
this that he labored during three
weeks, while no summons and no hint
of remembrance came from Chileote.
His position was peculiarly difficult.
He found no action In the present, and
toward the future he dared not trust
himself to look. He had slipped the
old moorings that familiarity had ren
dered endurable, but, having slipped
them, he had found no substitute,
Such was his case on the last night of
the three weeks and such his frame of
mind as he crossed Fleet street from
Clifford's inn to Middle Temple lane
It was scarcely 7 o'clock, but al
ready the dusk was falling. The great
er press of vehicles had ceased, and
the light of the street lamps gleamed
back from the spaces of dry and polish
ed roadway, worn smooth as a mirror
by wheels and hoofs. Something of the
soliture of night that sits so ill on the
strenuous city street was making itself
felt, though the throngs of people on
the pathway still streamed eastward
and westward, and the taverns made a
busy trade,
Having crossed the roadway, Loder
paused for a moment to survey the
scene. But humanity in the abstract
made small appeal to him, and his
glance wandered from the passersby
to the buildings massed like clouds
against the dark sky. As his gaze mov
ed slowly from one to the other s
clock near at hand struck 7, and an in
stant later the chorus was taken up
by a dozen clamorous tongues. Usually
he scarcely heard and never heeded
these innumerable chimes, but this
evening their effect was strange. Com
ing out of the darkness, they seemed
to possess a personal note, a human
declaration. The Impression was fan
tastic, but it was strong. With
species of revolt against life and his
own personality, he turned slowly and
moved forward in the direction of Lud
gate hill.
For a space he continued his course,
then, reaching Bouverie street, he turn
ed sharply to the right and made his
way down the slight incline that leads
to the embankment. There he paused
and drew a long breath. The sense of
space and darkness soothed him. Pull
ing his cap over his eyes, he crossed to
the river and walked on in the direc
tion of Westminster bridge.
As he walked the great mass of water
by his side looked dense and smooth as
oil with its sweeping width and network
of reflected light. On its farther bank
rose the tall buildings, the chimneys,
the flaring lights that suggest another
and an alien London. Close at hand
stretched the solid stone parapet, giv
ing assurance of protection.
All these things he saw with his men
tal eyes, but with his mental eyes only,
for his physical gaze was fixed ahead
where the houses of parliament loomed
out of the dusk. From the great build
ings his eyes never wavered until the
embankment was traversed and West-
minster bridge reached. Then he paus
ed, resting his arms on the coping of
the bridge.
In the tense quietude of the dark" 2S3
the place looked vast and inspiring.
The shadowy terrace, the silent river,
the rows of lighted windows, each was
significant. Slowly and comprehensive
ly his glance passed from one to the
other. He was no sentimentalist and
no dreamer. His act was simply the
act of a man whose interests, robbed
of their natural outlet, turn instinctive
ly toward the forms and symbols of
the work that is denied them. His
scrutiny was steady even cold. He
was raised to no exaltation by the
vastness of the building, nor was he
chilled by any dwarfing of himself. lie
looked at it long and thoughtfully;
then, again moving slowly, he turned
and retraced his steps.
Ills mind was full as he walked back
still oblivious of! the stone parapet of
the embankment, the bare trees and
the flaring lights of the advertisements
across the water. Turning to the left,
he regained Fleet street and made for
his own habitation with the quiet ac
curacy that some men exhibit in mo
ments of absorption
He crossed Clifford's inn with the
same slow, almost listless, step; then
as his own doorway came ln.to view, he
stopped. Some one was standing in its
recess.
For a moment he wondered if his
fancy were playing him a trick. Then
his reason sprang to certainty with so
fierce a leap that for an Instant his
mind recoiled. For we more often
stand aghast at the strength of our
own feelings than before the enormity
of our neighbor's actions.
Is that you, Chileote?" he said below
his breath.
At the sound of his voice the other
wheeled round. "Hello!" he said. "I
thought you were the ghost of some old
inhabitant. I suppose I am very unex
pected?" Loder took the hand that he extended
and pressed the fingers unconsciously.
The sight of this man was like the find
ing of an oasis at the point where the
desert is sandiest, deadliest, most un
bearable. "Yes, you are unexpected," he an
swered. Chileote looked at him, then looked
out into the court. "I'm done up," he
said. "I'm right at the end of the
tether." He laughed as he said it. but
in the dim light of the hall Loder
thought his face looked ill and harassed
despite the flush that the excitement of
the meeting had brought to it. Taking
his arm, he drew him toward the 6tairs.
"So the rope has run out, eh?" he
said, In imitation of the other's tone.
But under the quiet of his manner his
own nerves were throbbing with the
peculiar alertness of anticipation, a
sudden sense of mastery over life that
lifted him above surroundings and
aoove persons a sense or . statur?.
mental and physical, from which he
surveyed the world. He felt as if fate
in the moment of utter darkness had
given him a sign.
As they crossed the hall Chileote
had drawn away and was already
mounting the stairs. And as Loder
followed it came sharply to his mind
that here, in the slipshod freedom of a
- j door that was always open and stairs
that were Innocent of covering, lay his
companion's real niche unrecognized
In outward avowal, but acknowledged
by the inward, keener sense that mani
fests the individual.
In silence they mounted the stairs,
but on the first landing Chileote
paused and looked back, surveying
Loder from the superior height of two
steps.
"I did very well at first." he said. T
did very well. I almost followed your
example for a week or so. I found
myself on a sort of pinnacle, and I
clung on. But in the last ten days I've
I've rather lapsed."
"Why?" Loder avoided looking at
his face. He kept his eyes fixed de
terminedly on the spot where his own
hand gripped the banister.
"Why?" Chileote repeated. "Oh. the
prehistoric tale weakness stronger
than strength. "I'm I'm sorry to
come down on you like this, but It's
the social side that bowls me over. It's
the social side I can't stick."
"The social side? But I thought"
"Don't think. I never think; it en
tails such a constant upsetting of prin
ciples and theories. We did arrange
for business only, but one can't set up
barriers. Society pushes Itself every
where nowadays, into business most
of all. I don't want you for theater
parties or dinners. But a big reception
with a political flavor is different,
man has to be seen at these things. He
needn't say anything or do anything,
but it's bad form if he fails to show
up."
Loder raised his head. "You must
explain," he said abruptly.
Chileote started slightly at the sud
den demand.
"I I suppose I'm rather irrelevant.
he said quickly. "Fact is, there's a re
ception at the Bramfells tonight. You
know Blanche Bramfell Viscountess
Bramfell, sister to Lillian Astrupp
His words conveyed nothing to Loder,
but he did not consider that. All ex
plauatlons were irksome to him and he
invariably chafed to be done with
them.
"And you've got to put in an appear
ancefor party reasons?" Loder broke
In".
Chileote showed relief. "Yes. Old
Fraide makes rather a point of it so
does Eve." He said the last words
carelessly; then, as if their sound re
called something, his expression chang
ed. A touch of satirical amusement
touched his lips and he laughed.
"liy tne way, Joaer, he said, "my
wile was actually tolerant of me for
nine or ten days after my return. I
thought your representation was to be
quite impersonal? I'm not jealous.
he laughed. "I'm not jealous, I assure
you, but the burned child shouldn't
grow absentminded."
At his tone and his laugh Loder's
blood stirred. With a sudden, unex
pected impulse his hand tightened on
the banister, aud, looking up, he caught
sight of the face above him his own
faee it seemed, alighted with malicious
interest. At the sight a strange sensa
tion seized him, his grip on the banis
ter loosened, and, pushing past Chil
eote, he hurriedly mounted the stairs.
Outside his own door the other over
took him.
"Loder!" he said. "Loder! I meant
no harm. A man must have a laugh
sometimes." ,
But Loder was facing the door and
did not turn round.
A sudden fear shook Chileote. "Lo
der!" he exclaimed again. "You would
not desert me? I can't go back to
night. I can't go back."
Still Loder remained immovable.
Alarmed by his silence, Chileote step
ped closer to him.
"Loder! Loder, you won't desert
me.'" lie caught hastily at his arm.
With a quick repulsion Loder shook
him off, then almost as quickly he
turned round.
What fools we all are!" he said
abruptly. "We only differ in degree.
Come in and let us change our
clothes."
CHAPTER XIIi.
n"E best moments of a man's life
are the moments when, strong
id himself, he feels that the
world lies before him. Gratifies
ambition may be the summer, but an
ticipation is the ardent springtime of
a man's career.
As Loder drove that night from Fleet
street to Grosvenor square he realized
this, though scarcely with any degree
of consciousness, for he was no accom
plished self analyst. But in a wave of
feeling too vigorous to be denied he
recognized his regained foothold the
step that lifted him at once from the
pit to the pinnacle.
In that moment of realization he look
ed neither backward nor forward. The
present was all sufficing. Difficulties
might loom ahead, but difficulties had
but one object the testing and sharp
ening of a man's strength. In the first
deep surge of egotistical feeling he al
most rejoiced in Chilcote's weakness.
The more Chileote tangled the threads
of his life the stronger must be the
fingers that unraveled them. He was
possessed by a great impatience. The
joy of action was stirring in his blood.
Leaving the cab, he walked confident
ly to the door of Chilcote's house and
inserted the latchkey. Even In this
small act there was a grain of Indi
vidual satisfaction. Then very quietly
he opened the door and crossed the hall.
As he entered, a footman was ar
ranging the fire that burned In the big
grate. Seeing the man, he halted.
"Where is your mistress?" he asked
in unconscious repetition of his first
question in the same house.
The man looked up. "She has just
finished dinner, sir. She dined alone In
her own room." He glanced at Loder
in the quick, uncertain way that was
noticeable in all the servants of the
hausehold when they addressed their
master.- Loder saw the look and won
dered what depth of curiosity it be
trayed, how much of insight into the
domestic life that he must always be
content to skim. For an Instant the old
resentment against Chileote tinged his
exaltation, but he swept it angrily
aside. Without further remark he be
gan to isount the .stairs
LD
Gaining the landing, he did not turn,
as usual, to the door that shut off Chil
cote's rooms, but moved onward down
the corridor toward Eve's private sit
ting room. He moved slowly till the
door was reached. Then he paused and
lifted his hand. There was a moment's
wait while his fingers rested on the
handle; then a sensation he could not
explain, a reticence, a reluctance to In
trude upoa this one precinct, caused
his fingers to relax. With a slightly
embarrassed gesture he drew back
slowly and retraced his steps.
Once in Chilcote's bedroom, he walk
ed to the nearest bell and pressed it.
Reajvick responded. and at sight of
him Loder's feelings warmed with the
same sense of fitness and familiarity
that the great bed and somber furni
ture of the room had inspired.
But the man did not come forward
as he had expected. He remained close
to the door with a hesitation that was
unusual in a trained servant. It struck
Loder that possibly his stolidity had
exasperated Chileote and that possibly
Chileote had been at no pains to con
ceal the exasperation. The idea caused
him to smile involuntarily.
"Come into the room. Renwick," he
said. "It's uncomfortable to see you
standing there. I want to know if Mrs.
Chileote has sent me any message
about tonight."
Renwick studied him furtively as he
came forward. "Y'es, sir," he said.
"Mrs. Chilcote's maid said that the car
riage was ordered for 10:15, and she
hoped that would suit you." He spoke
reluctantly, as If expecting a rebuke.
At the opening sentence Loder had
turned aside, but now, as the man fin
ished, he wheeled round again and
looked at him closely with his keen,
observant eyes.
"Look here," he said. "I can't have
you speak to me like that. I may come
down on you rather sharply when my
my nerves are bad, but when I'm my
self I treat you well, I treat you de
cently at any rate. You'll have to learn
to discriminate. Look at me now!" A
thrill of risk and of rulership passed
through him as he spoke. "Look at me
now! Do I look as I looked this morn
ingor j-esterday?"
The man eyed him half stupidly, half
timidly.
"Well?" Loder insisted.
"Well, sir," Renwick responded, with
some slowness, "you look the same and
you look different a healthier color,
perhaps, sir, and the eye clearer." He
grew more confident under Loder's
half humorous, half Insistent gaze.
"Now that I look closer, sir"
Loder laughed. "That's it!" he said.
"Now that you look closer. You'll have
to grow observant. Observation is an
excellent quality in a servant. When
you come Into a room in future, look
first of all to me and take you cue
from that. Remember that serving a
man with nerves Is like serving two
masters. Now you can go, and tell
Mrs. Chilcote's maid that I shall be
quite ready at a quarter past 10."
"Yes, sir. And after that?"
"Nothing further. I shan't want
you again tonight." He turned away
as he spoke and moved toward the
great fire that was always kept alight
in Chilcote's room. But as the man
moved toward the door he wheeled
back again. "Oh, one thing more,
Renwick! Bring me some sandwiches
and a whisky." He remembered for
the first time that he had eaten noth
ing since early afternoon.
A few minutes after 10 Loder left
Chilcote's room, resolutely descended
the stairs and took up his position in
the hall. Resolution is a strong word
to apply to such a proceeding, but
something In his bearing, in the atti
tude of his shoulders and head, In
stinctively suggested It.
Five or six minutes passed, but ho
waited without Impatience. Then at
last the sound of a carriage stopping
before the house caused him to lift his
head, and at the same instant Eve ap
peared at the head of the staircase.
She stood there for a second, looking
down on him, her maid a pace or two
behind "holding her cloak. The picture
she made struck upon his mind with
something of a revelation.
On bis first sight of her she had ap
pealed to him as a strange blending of
youth and self possession a girl with a
woman's "clearer perception of life.
Later he had been drawn to study her
in other respects as a possible comrade
and friend. Now for the first time he
saw her as a power in her own world
a woman to whom no man could deny
consideration. She looked taller for
the distance between them, and the
distinction of her carriage added to the
effect. Her black gown was exquisite
ly soft as soft as her black hair,
Above her forehead was a cluster of
splendid diamonds shaped like a coro
net, and a band of the same stones en
circiea ner neck, ixxier realized in a
glance that only the most distinguished
of -women could wear such ornaments
and not have her beauty eclipsed. With
a touch of the old awkwardness that
had before assailed him in her pres
ence, he came slowly forward as she
descended the stairs.
"Can I help you with your cloak?' he
asked, and as he asked it something
like surprise at his own timidity cross
ed his mind.
For a second Eve's glance rested on
his face.' Her expression was quite im
passive, but as she lowered her lashes
a faint gleam flickered across her eyes.
Nevertheless, her answer, when It
came, was studiously courteous.
"Thank you," she said, "but Marie
will do all I want."
Loder looked at her for a moment,
then turned aside. He was not hurt by
his rebuff. Rather, by an interesting
sequence of impressions, he was stirred
by it. The pride that had refused Chil
cote's help, and the self control that
had refused it graciously, moved him
to admiration. He understood and ap
preciated both by the light of personal
experience.
"The carriage Is waiting, sir, Crap
ham's voice broke In.
Loder nodded, and Eve turned to her
maid. "That will do, Marie," she said.
"I shall want a cup of chocolate when
I get back, probably at 1 o'clock." She
drew her cloak about her shoulders and
moved toward the door. Then she
paused and looked back. "Shall we
start?" she asked quietly.
Loder, still watching her, came for
ward at once. "Certainly, he said,
with unusual gentleness.
He followed her as she crossed the
footpath, but made no further, off er of
help, and when the moment came he
auletly took his place beside her in the
carnage. His last impression as tu
horses wheeled round was of the open
hall door Crapham in his somber liv
ery and the maid in her black dress,
both silhouetted against the dark back
ground of the hall; then as the carriage
moved forward smoothly and rapidly
he leaned back in his seat and closed
his eyes.
During the first few moments of the
drive there was silence. To Loder there
was a strange, new sensation in this
companionship, so close and yet so dis
tant. He was so near to Eve that the
slight fragrant scent from her clothes
might almost have belonged to his own.
The impression was confusing, yet
vaguely delightful. It was years since
he had been so close to a woman of his
own class, his own caste. He acknowl
edged the thought with a curious sense
of pleasure. Involuntarily be turned
and looked at her.
She was sitting very straight, her fine
profile cut clear against the carriage
window, her diamonds quivering in the
light that flashed by them from the
street. For a space the sense of unreal
ity that had pervaded his first entrance
into Chilcote's life touched him again;
then another and more potent feeling
rose to quell it. Almost involuntarily
as he looked at her his lips parted.
"May I say something?" he asked.
Eve remained motionless. She did
not turn her head, as most women
would have done. "Say anything you
like," she said gravely.
"Anything?" He bent a little nearer,
filled again by the Inordinate wish to
dominate.
"Of course."
It seemed to him that her voice
sounded forced and a little tired. For
a moment he looked through the win
dow at the passing lights; then slowly
his gaze returned to her face.
"You look very beautiful tonight," he
said. His voice was low and his man
ner unemotional, but his words had the
effect he desired.
She turned her head, and her eyes
met his In a glance of curiosity and
surprise.
'Slight as the triumph was, it thrilled
him. The small scene with Chilcote's
valet came back to him; his own per
sonality moved him again to a reck
less determination to make his own
voice heard. Leaning forward, he laid
his hand lightly on her arm.
"Eve," he said quickly "Eve, do you
remember" Then he paused and
vithdrew his hand. The horses had
slackened speed, then stopped alto
gether as the carriage fell into lino
outside Bramfell House.
CHAPTER XIV.
ODER entered Lady Bramfell'l
feeling far more like an aetor
in a drama than an ordinary
man in a peculiar situation. It
L
was the first time he had played Chil
eote to a purely social audience and
the first time for many years that ho
had rubbed shoulders with a well
dressed crowd ostensibly brought to
gether for amusement. As he follow
ed Eve along the corridor that led to
t!ae reception rooms he questioned the
reality of the position acrain and ntrnlnr
thten abruptly, at the moment when the
sensation of familiarity was strongest.
a cheery voice hailed him, and, turn
ing, he saw the square shoulders, light
eyes and pointed mustache of Lakeley,
the owner of the St. George's Gazette.
At the sight of the man and the
sound of his greeting his doubts and
speculations vanished. The essentials
of life rose again to the position they
HOSTS OF GOOD PEOPLE
All Over This Blessed Land Rise Up and Praise Dr. Pierce's Family Medicines.
Common Gratitude l-.-ompts This Sentiment In Favor of
1 Dr. Pierce's Medicines.
These people, so ready and anxious to recommend Dr. Pierce's Medicines':
have themselves been cured, or some friend or loved one has been cured, by
these-. medicines.. Naturally, a sense of gratitude prompts such persons -to
recorfiiViend Dr. Pierce's medicines to other afflicted ones. Notwithstanding
that these .medicines have been on general pale, in drug and medicine sttes,
for more than two decades, yet their sale continues to grow as it could notwere
they nvt merlicines of more than ordinary merit M
1 base attacks have sometimes been made upon Dr. Pierce'p medi-
Cine6which temporarily injured their
false, sfaftdeious and libelous article
Journal orYluIadelphia, yet their sale is greater to-day tbsn ever. Tie pob
lishers of thVl paper were brought to account and judgment obtaifd against
them in consbuence of their malicious article concerning Dr. Piercs Favorite
Prescription. The falsity of its etstements were nmvpn in onen eoit jnd judg
ment wn nhtn.rpi fl.;r rsl Jlr Vhlnp"' f"r fi fftArtantUI m?!7nT3
Thereupon Dr. Pierce decided to take a bold step and publls) . to the whole
world a full list of the ingredients entering into his medicinesyind this com
pletely confounded his malicious traducers and vindicated bothiie Doctor and
his medicines. In consequence, his medicines have enjoyed popularity and
increase in sale of late, amounting almost to a boom, and it isjelieved that this
greatly increased demand is due largely to the fact of Dr. PiZce's open, honest
way of treating his patrons and patients by reposing confjence in those ho
trust in him and his medicines. He has no secrets to Ythhold from them.
He publishes the composition of his medicine nnpnl v and above hoard. r that
all who use them may know exactly
placed in a class all by themselves and
patent medicines, for they are tn fact neither.
WHAT THEV CURE. People often ask
"vnat do Dr. Fierce' two leading med
icines 'Golden Medical Discovery' and
i avoma rrescripttofr cure ? "
that "Golden
te
ier.
I
pecia
111 y favorably
i a curative ra.V
a all LIif murom
:ii2 st!ff5rr-!? as rif
he nasal passages'
itt real. oroi;( inal tui
R. stomach, bowels
arge percentage of
ar.d bludder curing id
catarrhal cases whei
fects the nasal na
r the disease af-
:iges, the throat.
larynx, bronchia, stq
lach (as catarrhal
mucous diarrhea).
dyspepsia), bowels (0
Madder, uterus or o'
ier pelvic organs.
tven in the chronic
of these aTections, it
ful in afTecting cures.
Medical Discovery " I
ulcerative stages
generally succes
1 fact the(
Jold
Ithout doubt.
most successful consti
tional rem
For
all forms of catarrhal
lseases knwh to
modern medical sciflssce. In
'ronic-
.Nasal Catarrh Dr. SasdCatarrhxTemedv
fluid should be used tor wajJrmg and
cleansing out the nasal wtasages while
taking the "Discovery" for its blood
cleansing and specific, healing effects
upon the mucous lining membranes. Thii
combined local and sreneral treatment will
cure a very large percentage of the worst
cases of chronic nasal catarrh, no matter
01 how many years standing they may be.
ji in rie -1-avorite. Frpwnminn - it i
ayiwTfr.r fprg of one class of dis
eases On I Yl hno WPlL nwJ. Aar. njj2
menu ana irregularities peculiar to
women. It is a powerfnl. yet gently act
Ing, invigorating tonic and nervine. For
weak, worn-out, over-worked women no
matter what has caused the break-down.
"Favorite Prescription" will be found
most effective in building op the strength,
regulating the womanly functions, sub
duing pain and bringing about a healthy,
strong, vigorous condition of the whole
system.
Dr. Pierce believes that our American
forests abound in most valuable medi
cinal roots for the cure of most of our
obstinate and most fatal diseases, if we
would properly investigate them: and.
in confirmation of this firm conviction,
he points with pride to the almost mar
velous cures effected by his "Golden Med
ical Discovery." which has proven itself
to be the most efficient stomach tonic,
liver invigorator, heart tonic and regu
lator, and blood cleanser known to med
ical science. Hot less marvelous, in the
unparalleled cures it is constantly mak
mg of woman's many peculiar affec
urleny. the enswe! Is
Medical Discovery 1 1 a
rative. or l.kxKl-nii he
nviyorirtor, and act"! Hpei
BABY 'STORMING
SKIN HUMOR
Ears Looked as if They Would Drop
Off Body Entirely Covered
- Face Mass of Sores Three
Doctors Could Not Cure Child
Grew Worse Face and Body
Now Clear
CURED BY CUTICURA
IN TWO WEEKS FOR 70C.
Mrs. George J. Stecsc, of 701
oburn
St.. Akron. Ohio, tells in the
owing
letter of another of those re
irkablo
cures of
rturing.
disligurin
kin hu-
mors d:
mado
Soap,
by Cuti
assistec
Ointn
Cutieun
t, after
phys
rsici
is, and all
failed: "I
duty to pa
other poor
else h
feel it
rents
Buffe
lg babies to
tell
CUT;
Fu
what Cuti-
has done for
mv
ttlo daughter.
She broke out all over
er body with a
humor, ant we used
mended, bit without
ry thing reeom-
suits. I called
in three doctors, the,
U claimed they
could help ,her, but
continued to
grow worse; Her b
sores, and iher litt
v was a nia-ss of
faco was being
eaten awayt her ea
looked as if they "
wouia aron u.
hbors advised mi
to get Cuticxira Soafand Ointment, and
before I ha
us
lalf of the cake of
Soap and bo
itment the (sores had
all healed, an
little one's face and
body were as c
as a new-born babe's.
1 would not
without it again if if
cost five dollars, instead of seventy-fiva
cents, which is all it cost us to cure
our baby, after spending many dollars
on doctors and medicines without any
benefit whatever."
Comolt External and Internal Trratmrat for ararv
Humor, from Fiinplra to Scrofula, from Infancy to in,
conitinc of Cutkrura fcoap, JHc., Olntnwnt, ., Ktanlv
cot, Oo. ( in form of Charvlata OMMd I11U. HA, per rial
ot 60), may br had of all lruglt. A ainftl often rvraa
tha moat dhnmalnr raw, wlm all other wnrdira, ajid
rrea tha brt phl( Ian. tall, hotter I)ruf Ova. Corp.,
fcolr Prop.. Iioaton, Mh.
rop... iKwgn, man.
' Mailed irea, All About Iha Skin, Scaip, tad Hail."
had occupied three weess ago, in tu
short but strenuous period when his
dormant activities had been stirred
and he had recognized his true self.
He lifted his head unconsciously, the
shade of misgiving that had crossed
his confidence passing from him as ho
smiled at Lakeley with a keen, alert
pleasure that altered his whole face. -
(To Be Continued.)
Three Cases Dismissed.
Three cases were dismissed by tha
Wayne Circuit Court yesterday at tho
morning session and the costs paid
by the defendants. The cases wero
those of Wm. Bradbury, trustee, va
Samuel Lashley for foreclosure tt
mortgage; Henry Q-Iorgan vs SamueJ
and John Lashley on claim of 475,
and Henry Morgan vs Samuel Lash
ley demanding $75.
sale, as in the rntie of the maLMnnalv."
Yiuhli.hfri in inru in th I Hi' linn.
what they are talUng. Thus they are
cannot be considered as either secret or
tions, weaknesfB and distressing derange
ments, Is Dr. llerce'sFavorlte Prescrip
tion, as is arnply attested by thousands
of unsolicited testimonials contributed by
grateful pajffc-nts who have been cured bj .
it of leucorjnea, painful periods. Irregular
ities, prohfpsus and other displacements,
ulcerati'ja of uterus and kindred affec
tions, ojjr-n after many other advertised
medicijps had failed.
Iiotjrthese world-famed medicines ar
whoUj made up from the glyceric ex
traofs of native, medicinal roots, fonnd
in jpir American forests. The processes
evfployed in their manufacture wers
tginal with Dr. Pierce, and they are
rned on by skilled chemists and thar-
acists with the aid of anDaratns and
appliances specially designed and built
lor this purpose, jiotn medicines ar
entirely free from alcohol and all otbr
harmful, habit-forming drugs. A full
list of their Ingredients Is printed on each
of their wrappers. They are both made
of such native medicinal roots as have
received the strongest endorsement and
praise for their curative virtues from
the most prominent writers on Materia
Medica in this country. What is said ol
their power to euro the several diseases
for which they aro advised may be
easily learned by sendlnir your name -and
address to Dr. R. V. Pierce, Euffalo,
2f. Y.. for a little booklet which he has
compiled, containing copious extracts
from numerous standard medical books,
which are consulted as authorities by
physicians of the several schools of prac
tice for their guidance in prescribing. It
is free to all. A postal card request
will bring It.
You don't have to rely solely upon the
manufacturer's say-so as to the power of
Dr. Pierce's medicines to cure, as with
other medicines sold through druggists.
You have the dixinteresteil testimony of
a host of the leading medical writers
and teachers. Send for this copious
testimony. It can be relied upon to
be truthful " because it i entirely dis
interested. Dr. Pierce's Pleasant Pellets care con
stipation. Constipation Is the cause of
many diseases. Cure the cause and vou
cure the disease. One "Pellet" is a
gentle laxative, and two a mild cathar
tic, Drusreists sell them, and nothing
is "just as good." They are the orininnl
lAiue. L.iver Pills first nut nn hv rM
Dr. Pierce over 40 years ago. Much
imitated, but never eoualed. ThT m
tiny sugar-coated rranules easy to talc
mm caady.
i