Thoms and Orange Blossoms.
BY THH AUTHOR OF
ROMANCE OF A YOUNG GIRL.
"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
■‘Tell me the worst!” she cried,
when she saw Miss Marston’s pale
“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
“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
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
We will do our best for you.” said
the doctor; but he had no hope.
**“ 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
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
“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
“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
“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
“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
Blit the heiress could hardly com
prehend the other intelligence, that
Violet Beaton was Lady Ryvers, the
unhappy wife who had left her hus
“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
‘‘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
“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
“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
“I know; but you love him still?”
“I shall love him forever,” was the
“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
“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
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
“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
“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.
As they drove hurriedly from the
railway-station to the house, Miss
Marr told Lord Ryvers all that had
“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,
And then she told him of the birth
of his little son. He was astonished
and bewildered. All ne say
“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
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
To be continued.
Minnesota Board of Par
dons Acts Favorably
Have Been in Stillwater
Prison for Twenty
Story of Famous Raid
and Its Disastrous
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.,
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
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
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
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
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
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 *
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