Newspaper Page Text
Thoms and Orange Blossoms.
BY THH AUTHOR OF ROMANCE OF A YOUNG GIRL. Continued. "Miss Marr," "Princethorpe Manor.” She wrote the words down, not know ing why, but in obedience to some un accountable instinct. Presently she came to a paragraph that seemed to her her death-warrant. "Wo understand that proceedings have been taken by the members of a noble and powerful family to set aside the marriage of the head of the house, under the plea that it was contracted while the young nobleman was a minor. The case is likely before long to occupy the attention of the long robe ” It so happened that the paragraph referrd to the marriage of the young Marquis of Conmara, who had eloped with his mother's waiting-maid, and not to Randolph, Lord Ryvers. But to Violet’s jealous heart it seemed as though every word was meant for him and for her This was why her husbaad had not answered her letters or been to see her. He must be a consenting party to it, or it could not bo done. They would annul her mar riage, aftrr all: yet she would be the mother of the heir of Ryversdaie. Randolph would marry Miss Marr. There came to her disordered mind a vision; she saw her husband standing before the altar with the heiress, as he had stood with her, his fair and handsome face bent over her. “He is mine, he is mine!” cried Violet; and then ahe fell with her face to the ground. Miss Marston found her so, and her first proceeding was to telegraph to Mrs. Carstone, and her next to send for a doctor. It was barely noon when Mrs. Car stono arrived. ■‘Tell me the worst!” she cried, when she saw Miss Marston’s pale face. “I found her lying in her room this morning, with her face to the ground, and the doctor fears the worst.” Pale and trembling Mrs. Carstone sank into the nearest chair. “Let me see the doctor,” she said, "before I see her." But ho only confirmed Miss Marston a words. Then Mrs. Car stone went up to Violet. A white face framed in golden hair lay upon the pillow, two beautiful eyes, shadowed with pain, looked at her wistfully as Hhe entered, a white hand, thin and fragile, beckoned her. "Ask him," she said, “if I shall see my baby before I die.” "You will not iiie, Violet,” answered Mrs. Carstone; but none of the old hope shone in her face. Not long afterward came the ter rible struggle between life and death. Moro than once they had bent for ward. believing she was dead; but suddenly arose on the calm summer air a little cry, a faint feeble, wail ing cry. the sound of which brought a faint color to the white, beautiful face. Mrs. Carstone had never shed such tears In her life as those she shed when they placed the little heir of Ryversdaie in her arms. A faint whisper came from the whito lips. “Shal I see my baby before I die?” “Can you not save her?” cried Mrs. Carslone. “It seems so horrible that she should die now!” "Heaven may save her—l cannot.” replied the doctor, more moved that he cared to show. “How long have I to live?” asked the weak voice. “Days or hours?” “Hours, I fear.” was the grave reply. And then they placed the tiny child in the failing arms that clasped him with such unutterable love. Violet did not think much of her husband at. that hour of desperation and pain -only of the child, the little child she must leave. “Can you not save me? Help me to live'” she gasped, with white lips. It as so the doctor said —merely a matter of hours. Who would take care of her child? She thought of Miss Marr. the noblest woman she knew in the world. Ah, vest She should die more at peace, happier, if she knew that her child was with Miss Marr With difficulty she made Mrs. Car stone understand that she was to tele graph to Priucethorpe Manor. "Sav that Violet Deaton wants her, and beg* her to come at once. Shall i live.' she asked wistfully, ‘V Ml she comes?” We will do our best for you.” said the doctor; but he had no hope. CHAPTER LVI. **“ Marr obey,.,! tho summons promptly, though she wondered great ly why Violet Heaton had telegraphed In so sudden and peremptory a man ner for her. Mrs. Caratone received her. and the two looked at each other curiously, k "I atn Mrs. Carstone," said th' millionaire's wife-" Mrs. Carstone of Ingleshnw." she added, with a faint kopo that the glories of that most Ancient Place had reached tho aristocratic ears of tire lady before Mr But no gleam of recognition came Into tho proud face. L*?t Is I who telegraphed to yo\ Mis.; she continued. “The poor lady is dying, and her one wish was to cee you.” “Dying?” cried the heiress, startled from her usual calm. “You do not mean to tell me that Violet Beaton is dying?” “I fear so. The doctor says it is but a matter of hours; and I am sure she has sent for you because ah'* wishes to leave the little child with you.” “The child*! What do you mean?” cried Miss Marr. “I speak of the child whose birth is to cost its mother’s life. Miss Marr. there can be no more secrets now. IV) you know who Violet Beaton is?” “She is Violet Beaton, I presume. I know nothing more about her.” “She is Lady Ryvers?” cried Mrs. Carstone. with a burst of tears. “It is useless to keep her secret any longer. Lord Ryvers must know of the death of his wife and the birth of his son.” “Lady Ryvers!” cried the heiress. “Lady Ryvers! Do you mean that she is the wife of Randolph, Lord Ryvers ?” “I do. And the friends of Lord Ryvers have driven her to her death! ” But Miss Marr could not believe what she had heard. "Pardon me,” she said, “you are wrong. Violet Beaton has been living with a relative of mine. That is how I know her; that is why she has sent for me.” “I assure you, Miss Marr, that the young lady dying up stairs is Violet Beaton, who married Lord Ryvers. I have known her and her history for some time. It was with me she took refuge when she left Ryversdaie.” “And who,” cried the heiress, sink ing pale and trembling upon the sofa, “did you say you are?” “I am Mrs. Carstone of Ingleshaw,” repated the millionaire’s wife, A sudden gleam of recollection came to Mis Marr; she had heard the name often enough. “Your husband is fhe millionaire who bought Ingleshaw?” she said. And, in spite of tne sorrow hanging over them, Mrs. Carstone’s face was a picture of complacency as she an swered “Yes.” Blit the heiress could hardly com prehend the other intelligence, that Violet Beaton was Lady Ryvers, the unhappy wife who had left her hus band. “I have known and loved her, con tinued Mrs. Carstone, “ever since we met abroad. She came to me in her distress and despair when she left her husband; or rather I met her by accident, and took her home with me. She would not remain, she would work for herself; and a friend of mine found her an engagement with a Mrs. Ingram of Queen’s Elm.” “That Is my grandmother. I met her there; I spent some weeks there with her.” Suddenly Miss Marr re inemoered all that she had confided in her. how she had told her the story of her great love for Randolph, and how she Intended to win him for herself, if she could. She stood dis mayed, bewildered, tortured by the recollection. How little she had dreamed that she was speaking to Randolph's wife! She clasped her hands with a bitter cry. “If she dies,” “it Is I who have killed her! But I did not know—oh, Heaven, I did not know!” ‘‘l should say that Lady Ryvers has killed her,” remarked Mrs. Carstone. “It is too horrible!” said the heiress. "And you say there is a little child born today?” “Yes—a lovely little boy.” “Hell- of Ryversdale!” said Mis3 Marr. “You must send for Lord Ryvers at once.” “It Is useless,” replied Mrs. Car stone; "his wife has sent for him twice, and he has refused to come. ’ “I will not believe it!” cried the heiress. “If ever a man worshiped a woman. Lord Ryvers worshiped his wife. From the time she left home, he shut himself up, and no one has seen him since. He would have given the whole world to find her; but she told him she would never return. He would have flown to her if he hart thought she would even speak to him.” I was with her when she wrote an,l posted the letters.” "Then there has been foul play.” de clared Miss Marr, "for l know that Lord Ryvers has never received one word from his wife since she left him. And you say she is dying?” Tears filled her eyes. "Let me see her,” She said; “there is no time to be lost.” She grew pale as she entered the room and sav the beautiful colorless lace of Violet and the tiny head of the nestling babe. She was so true a woman that at the sight tears filled her eyes. With gentle step she went up to the young *. ife and knelt down by (ho bods Me. "Violet." she said, gently, “do yon know me- lam Gwendoline Marr.” There was ; faint stir >f the white eyelids. It teemed that by a des perate effort she was trying to bring i herself back to life. She wants to speak to me,” said the heiress piteously. “Car you nothing for her?” Tho doctor came forward with a spoonful of strong cordial. Then the white eyedds opened. “You sent for me, Violet. What can 1 1 do for you?" 1 want to give you this," she said opening her arms that her friend might see her little child. “You are one of the noblest women in the world. Will you take him for me?” Then with one white weak hand she drew the dark, beautiful face down to her own. “You know my story,” she whispered, faintly; “you know who I am. It seems to me almost that I have come back from the dead to see you. You know now that lam Ran dolph's wife.” “Yes; I know. Will you forgive z** all the pain I have caused you? If I had known that you were Randolph’s wife, I should never have spoken of him.” “I know; but you love him still?” “I shall love him forever,” was the low reply. “And you will marry him after I am dead? Every one will forget me. and you will be happy together. I give you my little son —he will be Ran dolph’s little heir; you will love him and cherish him and care for him as if ho were your own?” “1 promise,” answered Miss Marr. “How strange,” said Violet, “that you should have both my husband and my son! You will love him? Do not tell him about me; let him think you are his mother. An tell Ran dolph I should like to be laid to rest in the old churchyard at St. Byno’s. Mine has been a short troubled life.” “Violet,” said her friend, “would you not like to see your husband?” “He would not come to me. I sent to him twice: he would not come.” “I am sure he would come to see you and his little son if he knew. Would you like to see him?” Oh, the rapture of love and of long ing in the pale face! “I believe,” she whispered, faintly, “that if I saw him I should not die. I should live in spite of myself.” “Then you shall see him,” her friend declared. “I will go and bring him to you. Doctor,” she said hastily, “I am sure that Lady Ryvers is better; give me just one gleam of hope.” The doctor looked up when be heard the rank and name of his patient. “Give me one gleam of hope,” she repeated. “The best that I can say is that Lady Ryvers is no worse, and that every hour she lives adds to her chance of living,” he answered, grave ly. Miss Man - bent over the pale face. “Violet,” she said, “try tr, live. Try to think -hat Randoipn is coming and wants to see you.” “Randolph will marry you; you are the best suited for him; they all love you. I am content to die. Oh, dear friend, love my son!” And then the pallor deepened, the white eyelids fell. “Is she dead?” cried the heiress, in great alarm, “No! she is only exhausted,” re plied the doctor. Then, kissing the cold brow, Miss Marr stole softly out of the sick-room, and, hastening at once to the tele graph-office, dispatched the following message: “From Miss Marr, rallway-statijn, Weston-on-sea, Kent, to Lord Ryi ers, Athol House, Mayfair, London—Come here at once; your wife, Violet, is dying and wishes to see you. I will be at the station to meet you.” What wonder, consternation, and bewilderment that telegram caused Lord Ryvers! That Violet, his beautiful, willful young wife, should be dying seemed to him impossible. And why should Miss Marr be with her? Violet was dying—Violet, for whom he had given up the whole world, who had been so brightly happy with him, who had overwhelmed him with bitter reproaches and left him! Violet, was dying; and Miss Marr, the beautiful woman whom every one had wished him to marry, was with her! Weston-on-Sea was not very far. He had reached the railway-station and stood with Miss Marr’s hand fast clasped in his before he realized what had happened and where he was. CHAPTER LVII. As they drove hurriedly from the railway-station to the house, Miss Marr told Lord Ryvers all that had happened. “And Violet was with you,” he cried —“really and truly with you? How strange! It must have been the very hand of Heaven.” "I believe it was,” said Miss Marr, quietly. And then she told him of the birth of his little son. He was astonished and bewildered. All ne say was: “My poor Violet! Pray Heaven that we may find her living! If I can but look in her face once more and tell her how much I love her.” She was living, and her life hung upon a thread. The question was whether his sudden appearance would snap that thread. “She told me she should live if she raw you, and I believe it,” said Miss Marr. There was another surprise for Lord Ryvers when he saw Mrs. Car stone and heard her story, how she had helped and befriended his hapless young w ife. “But you.” he said, reproachfully— "you should have sent to me. You know how well I loved her." But Mrs. Carstone had her own de fence. Of what use was it for her to interfere when he had sent no an swer to his wife’s urgent prayer? Then he heard the story of the letters, and for the first time It struck him how negligent ha had been, that he ought to have taken precautions. But he had never thought that Violet would write. The letters must have gone to Ry versdale and fallen into his mother's bauds. He told himself that if hts wife died his mother would be tho cause. To be continued. BANDITS GOFREE Minnesota Board of Par dons Acts Favorably On Youngers Have Been in Stillwater Prison for Twenty five Years Story of Famous Raid and Its Disastrous Consequences St. Paul, July 11.—The state pardon board approved the parole of Coleman and James Younger, who have been in the Stillwater penitentiary for the past twenty-five years for complicity in the robbery and murder at the time of the raid on the Northfleld, Minn., bank. Cole, Jim and Bob Younger were sent to the penitentiary twenty-five years ago under life sentences for murder. Bob has been dead ten years. Cole Younger now is 67 years old. He had intended before he entered the war to become a minister and since his incarceration he has devoted him self to a study of theology. Jim Younger, who is 51 years of age, aTso has done much reading in the prison and the two men are said by the war den to be the best educated and best behaved of all the prisoners. The acts for which the Younger brothers are serving life sentences were committed during the robbery of the Northfleld, Minn., bank Sept. 7, 1876, and during the retreat of the robbers. Eight men were concerned In the robbery—Bill Chadwell, by whom it was suggested; Cole, Jim and Bob Younger; Jesse and Frank James, Clell Miller and Frank Pitts. They killed Cashier Hayward, Nicholas Gus tafson, a Norwegian who did not un derstand their command to leave the street, and Dr. Wheeler. Miller, Chadwell and Pitts were killed during the fight that followed the raid; the Youngers, literally rid dled by buckshot and bullets, surren dered when they could fight no loDger; Jesse and Frank James left the Youngers still facing the office ’s and posse and fought their way tack to Missouri. Cole bsd a rifle ball under his right eye which pcralyzed the ordc nerve. There was a bullet in hi* thigh, an other in his chest and eleven other bullet wounds in all. Eight buckshot and a rifle ball were taken from Jim’s body. He had an ugly wound in his shoulder and nearly half his jaw had been carried away by a ball. At that time Minnesota had a pecu liar law. It provided that any prison er charged with murder in the first degree who pleaded guilty could not be hanged, but must be sentenced to state prison for life. For nearly ten years Cole and Jim were under the surgeon’s care in pris on at Stillwater. To th.s day Cole is employed in the hospital. Bob, the youngest, and who suffered least in the fighting, was the first to succumb. SOME SMUGGLING STORIES. Europe Has S -<es Resembling Those That Occur in New York. I have had some interesting chit chat with the head of a Belgo-Dutch custom house, rie related to me how at his frontier s:ation he had a tiff with Sarah Bernhardt. She had been a good deal spoi'ed at The Hague, and refused to alight from her saloon car riage. The refusal was not made In her voix d’or. The underling who had had to deal with her went to his chief, Chick (to snake) —“Hello! Crawley, hear you had your leg pulled at. poker last night.” who approached her, hat In hand, and almost bent in two. He acted as though she were entitled out of her theatre to the royal honors due to her on the stage as Marie de Neubourg. This did not mollify her. As he could not use fo-rce, as though she were a French deputy or an Irish M. P., he went to the railway station master and required that S. B.’s saloon carriage should be uncoupled and run into a siding. This was done, with the effect that she alighted and gave the cus toms director a piece of her mind. He might have ordered her to be searched, but he did not. However, to prevent her carriage staying all night in the siding, she declared that she had nothing on her or in her boxes liable to duty. As the train bearing the accom plished actress steamed out of the station she started up, and standing at the window fit le pied de nez. You know the gesture. It is a very com mon one in the primary schools of Paris. Boys there font le pied de nez behind the backs of school masters. The gesture is made by placing a thumb to the nose, extending the hand, and placing the thumb of the other hand, extended at the end of the fourth finger. Two historical instances of the pied de nez have come to my knowledge. One was made by Paulein Bonaparte behind the back of the Empress Marie Louise; the other was made by a late noble lord, acting as captain of the yeomen of the guard at Buckingham Palace, behind the back of the late queen. She saw him in a mirror, and with consequences that he had cause to rue for the rest of his life. You see from this that human nature is the same in tragedy queens, in noble lords and in com munal school pupils. The customs directors I have spoken of is a good fellow, and he constantly lets ladies pass who he is persuaded nave yielded to the temptation to make paltry gains by sumggling. One day a very grand lady indeed, who was coming, via Queensborough and Flush ing, from a visit to Queen Victoria, seemed to him rather hurried and uneasy. As she stepped into her reserved carriage a big bundle fell from beneath the flounces of her dress. The underlings made a rush for it, and she took care not to claim it, but ensconsed herself in a corner and drew down the blinds. The packet that had fallen was not of enormous value. The goods it contained might perhaps have cost five or six pounds more on the continent than in London. It was not possible to return them to her without stopping her and prosecut ing her for misdemeanor. The under lings who picked up the packet were allowed to keep it. “Attaches,” said the director of customs, “are awfully cheeky. They pretend to think that diplomatic immunity extends to them. It does not —only to ambassadors. It is a favorite trick of theirs to speak in French, English, Dutch, and many in German; this way of defending their smuggled goods is no longer of much use. The nastiest custom houses for foreigners are in Spain. Trunks are completely emptied, and Spaniards have not the cleverness or muscle of the French douranier in repacking them —always for a fee. The Bar celona manufacturers at the great frontier stations have agents who spy on the custom house officials and pre vent them becoming slack. But st small frontier stations, where there are no female searchers, ladies and poor women can smuggle in as much as they please. Stockings baggy at the knees are specially knit to serve as receptacles.—lx>ndon Truth. Sharp Against Sharp. Just about the time when the people of New Jersey have exterminated the mosquitoes in response to the advice of the scientific sharps some other scientific sharp will rise up and tell them that the mosquitoes are among man's best friends, and they will be compelled to import the creatures and start hatcheries. —Pittsburg Times. The Fee Was Tempting. A young couple in southwest Georgia called on a colored minister and of fered him a string of fish to marry them. Said the minister: “I mighty positive dat both er you is too young ter marry; but den—you looks a heap older dan what you is; en furdermo’, ef dey is one t’ing I wants partickler fer dinner dis day, it is fish. So, jine han's!” -Atlanta Constitution. STILL CAN’T AGREE GENERAL STRIKE IN STEEL MILLS POSSIBLE. BUT ONE DAY NOW LEFT No Proposition Submitted by Either Side to Controversy—Strike Would Affect Eighty Thousand Men—Ma chinists at Baltimore Give Up Con test There, Asking for Old Terms. Pittsburg, July 13—The second day of the conference between the Amal gamated association of Iron, Steel and Tin Workers and steel manufacturers came to a close last night without an agreement having been reached. An other session will be held today and from indications late last night a set tlement or a general strike will be de cided upon. Although the meet ings were held behind closed doors, the pfciceedings were guarded with great secrecy and it is learned the entire day was given over to the discussion, each side putting in its best work to gain a point. Nothing, how over, was accom plished. When the conference ad journed all the conferees were ap pealed to for information as to the status of affairs, but nothing definite cuold be learned. Late last night, however, President Shaffer, of the Amalgamated association, consented 'o be quoted in the following statement: “Nothing was actually accomplished today. No proposition was submitted by either side to the controversy. No time limit has been set on the confer ence but it must come to an end. To morrow must settle in one way or an other. If no agreement is reached the general strike which was set for last Monday will proceed. I am still hoping for a settlement” When asked if in the event of a strike, it would involve all plants in the United States Steel corporation, Shaffer replied every union man in every plant in any way connected w-ith the steel corporation would be called out. About 80,000 men will be affect ed. It is believed, however, by con servative steel men that a compromise will be reached today and a strike averted. President Shaffer himself while not stating that he is prepared o initiate a compromise, intimated should one come from the other side, he would gladly meet it half way, and concede anything not compromising the interests of his people. The big independent steel sheet mill of Zug & Company, one of the largest mills out side the United States Steel corpora tion, has resumed operations after a suspension of nearly two weeks for re pairs. It will pay the same wages as the scale provides. All other independent sheet mills that have signed the scale will start Monday after customary suspension July 1, whether the strike in the trust mills is settled or not. Balimore, July 13—About two hun dred machinists decided yesterday to give up the fight for the nine-hour working day and apply for reinstate ment in the shops of the Maryland Steel company Monday, at the old terms. This brings the machinists’ strike to an end in this city. Cincinnati, July 13.—A meeting of shop committeemen of the striking ma chinists from various concerns afTected was held last night. At the conclusion of the meeting a statement was given out emphatically denying the report that the strike had been called off. ANOTHER VICTIM OF ST. HELENA. Mental Distress Drives Mrs. Ocnje to Insanity. The prison place at which the great Napoleon died has now claimed the mind of another victim sent there in company with a noted prisoner of war of England. Advices from St. Helena contain the sad news that Mrs. Cronje, wife of the famous boer general captured with his army by Gen. Roberts, and' afterward sent as a prisoner to St. Helena accompanied by his wife, has lost her mind. Mrs. Cionje has many admirers in every part of the civilized world, in cluding England. In such esteem was she held in France that the women of that country presented her with a beautiful jewled locust, which cost ROOO, as a mark of their esteem and appreciation of her noble qualities. The gift of the French women was fit for a queen, but to Mrs. Cronje it was valueless save for the apprecia tion of her which it expressed. In ap pearance and taste she is but the or dinary boer housewife to whom jew elry is an un cared for luxury. She is described by those knowing her as a woman with one dress, a cheap, black one, a dirty straw het as a head cov ering. with absolutely nothing that would distinguish her from thousands of other boer women living on the veldt. But beneath a rough exterior there beat a true patriot heart. When the war came she followed her husband into the field, and remained by his side until both were captured by Gen. Roberts. She cooked his meals, nursed the sick and wounded boer soldiers, and lent encouragement to their arms by her presence and cheer fulness. At St. Helena she Is a voluntary prisoner, having asked to be allowed to accompany her husband. It Is said that her insanity is caused 1 by her great memtal distress during the war, and the sufferings of her * husband. \