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Ey MRS. HENRY WOOD
CHAPTER VII.—(Continued.) Hater in the day she seemed a little better ; it was the rallying of the spirit before departure. She knew it was de ceitful strength, but it put hope into the heart of Mr. Baumgarten. "Ryle, if he should live, you will al ways he kind to him?" "Edith ! Kind to him ! Oh, my wife, my wife," he uttered, with a burst of irrepressible emotion, "you must not go, and leave him and me." She waited until he was calmer; she was far more collected than he. "You will love him?" she reiterated, faintly; "you will always protect him •gainst the world's unkindness?" "Ay ; that I swear to you," he ardently replied. And Edith Baumgarten breathed • sigh of relief, and quietly lay back upon her pillow. Her voice, hardly to be heard at all, was growing fainter and fainter. Her husband thought it must be the faintness attendant on death ; but for a short time •he seemed to sleep. He sat on ; his arm beneath her neck, his other hand held one of her hands. All was still ; so still that the ticking of Edith's watch, lying on the dressing ta ble, was audible. About ten minutes had thus passed when a slight cry from the Infant in the next room, followed by the •oothing hush of the nurse, fell upon Mr. Baumgarten's ear. "Ryle ! Ryle !" "My dear?" he breathed, vexed that her eleep should have been disturbed. "I have been in that dream again— going on my long, long Journey," she said In disjointed syllables. "Oh, Ryle, I know It now ; It Is the journey of death." "My dear wife I" he cried, much dis tressed. "The air is—oh, so sweet—-and the light at the far end so bright and lovely—and the flowers—look at the flowers ! they are the flowers of Heaven ! and—and—oh, look I look-" The tone, growing Inaudible, had taken a glad sound of ecstasy ; and with the last word, the spirit passed away. After the funeral of Mrs. Baumgarten the parish flocked to Whitton Cottage to condole with their rector, and to see the baby. He received them with quiet cour tesy, but tlie most sanguine sympathizers could not detect any encouragement for a renewal of the visit. All that could make life pleasant to Mr. Baumgarten was as yet buried in the grave of Edith. Gradually he began to take notice of the child; at first he had avoided him. The old servant, Dinah, who had lived with the Danes for years, took charge of him. Mr. Baumgarten would sometimes have him on his knee now, and soon loved him with an impassioned fondness. He bad nothing else to love. Thus the months glided on to winter; the rector fulfilling ail his duties as of gore, but leading a very lonely life. CHAPTER VIII. One bright, frosty day in January, when the icicles shone in the sun and the blue sky was cloudless, the open carriage of Lady Avon drew up at the rectory gate. After the marriage of Mr. Baum garten Lady Avon had occasionally at tended Little Whitton church as hereto fore, but Lady Grace never. She had al ways excuses ready, and her mother— who had never fathomed, or even suspect ed the true cause of Grace's caprice as to the living—put faith in them. The countess declined to alight, aud Mr. Baumgarten went out to the gate. "Would it be troubling you very much, Mr. Baumgarten, to come to Avon House occasionally and pass an hour with me?" began she, as they shook hands. "Certainly not, if you wish it," he re plied. "If I can render you any service I shall be very happy to come." Lady Avon lowered her voice and bent toward him. "I am not happy in my mind, Mr. Baumgarten; not easy. The present world is passing away from me, and I know little of the one I am enter ing. I don't like the rector of Great Whitton ; he does not suit me ; but with you I feel at home. I shall bo obliged to you to come up once or twice a week and pass a quiet hour with me." "I will do so. But I hope you find nothing more than usual the matter with your health." "Time will prove," replied Lady Avon. "IIow Is your little boy?" "He gets on famously ; he is a brave little fellow," returned Mr. Baumgarten, his eyes brightening. "Would you like to see him7 I will have him brought out.'" T "I should like to see him, yes ; but I will come in." He helped her from the low carriage, and gave her his arm up the path, and the most comfortable chair by the parlor fire. The child was brought in by Dinah pretty babe in a white frock and black ribbons, the latter worn in memory of his mother. Lady Avon took him on her knee. "He will resemble you." she said, scan ning his face ; "he has your eyes exactly, deep and dark"—and she had nearly add ed "beautiful, upon her ermine boa. "My pretty boy I" she exclaimed, fond ly. "What is his name?" "Cyras. I know It would have pleased Edith to have him named after her fath The child put his hand •r. "Ah ! Poor Edith !" sighed Lady Avon, as she gave the child back to Dinah, and arose. "Not the least distressing feature of that los* was its suddenness. X wished I could have come over to say farewell." Mr. Baumgarten sighed in answer, as be again gave his arm to Lady Avon. "By tb, way," she said, as be was settling her paid the cost of the repairs yourself, I believe. ' les. I had some money left me un expectedly, and used it for the purpose." 'VVell, I am glad you're in it. Good d a . v - ' Mr. Baumgarten paid his first visit to Avon House on the following day. Lady Grace was alone in the room when he in the carriage. "I must congratulate you upon getting Into the rectory. You entered. Her countenance flushed crim son, and then grew deadly pale. Mr. Baumgarten took her hand, almost in compassion; he thought she must he What has been the matter? he in ' , ..... ,, , , The matter! Nothing anj| she grew crimson again. Is your visit to mamma? Do -ou wish to see her? ill. "f am here by axipointment with Lady Avon." The countess came into the room, and Grate found that his visits were to be frequent. From that day they saw a great deal of each other. Lady Grace strove to arm herself against him ; she called up pride, anger and many other adjuncts, false as they were vain, for the heart is ever true to itself, and will be heard. It ended in her struggling no longer ; in her giving herself up, once more, to the bliss of lov ing him unchecked. Did he give himself up to the same, by way of reciprocity? Not of loving her; no, it had not come to it ; but he did yield to the charm of liking her, of find ing pleasure in her society, of wishing to be more frequently at Avon House. The Hon. and Rev. Wilfred Elliotsen, claiming a dead earl for a father and a live earl for a brother, was not, of course, a light whose beams could be hid under a bushel, more particularly as the live earl was in the cabinet. It therefore sur prised no one that when the excellent old Bishop of Barkaway was gathered to his fathers and a lucky canon, who held of the best livings In the kingdom, promoted to his should step Into the canon's shoes, rich living and all. This left Great Whitton vacant. As luck, or the opposite, chanc ed to have it, Lord Avon was on a few days' visit to his mother when Mr. El liotsen received his appointment. "Don't put such another as Elliotsen into Great Whitton, Henry," observed the countess to her son, "or we shall have the parish in rebellion." "He has not succeeded in pleasing his flock yet, then?" remarked his lordship. "Give it to Mr. Baumgarten. deserving man, Henry ; he will restore peace to the parish, and as a preacher few excel him." one was miter, Mr. Elliotsen He is a Lord Avon laughed a little as he sat down to face the sofa. "Why, mother, Baumgarten is the very man I had in my own mind. I thought by your preamble you must have fixed some one else. •n I would rather he had it than any other person In the world. I can tell you that the smart the last tretemps brought me lingers yet. Let it be Baumgarten ; we owe him pense." And that very day the earl, afraid, pos sibly, of fresh interference, personally of fered Great Whitton to Mr. Baumgar ten, and shook hands on its acceptance. That same evening Mr. Bamngnrton presented himself at Avon House. Carmel was standing amid the rose trees ; she liked to linger in the open air at the dusk hour, to watch the stars come out, and to think of him. eon a recom Grace But that she wore a white dress, he might not have distin guished her in the fading twilight. He left the open path to join her. "It is a late visit, Lady Grace, which I must apologize for; I was called out to a sick friend as I was starting, and de tained an hour," he said ; "but I could not resist coming to say a word of grati tude to Lord Avon." "Your visit will not accomplish its ob ject, Mr. Baumgarten, for my brother is gone. He left before doinner upon matter of urgent business in town. Mam ma says she is very glad that you will be nearer to us." "Perhaps I have to thank you for this, as much as Lord Avon," he said. "No; no, indeed; it was mamma who spoke to Henry ; or he to her ; they ar ranged it between them. I—I " "What?" he whispered. "I did not speak to him," she contin ued, filling up the pause of hesitation. "That is all I was going to say." But Mr. Baumgarten did not fail to de tect how agitated she was. Her trembling hands were busy with the rose trees, though she could scarcely distinguish buds from leaves. Mr. Baumgarten took one hand, and placing it within his own arm, bent down his face until it was en a level with hers. "Grace," lie whispered, "have we misunderstood each other?" She could not speak, but her lips turn ed white with her emotion. It was the hour of bliss she had so long dreamed of. "Grace," be continued, in a tone of im passioned tenderness, "have we loved each other through the past, and did I mistake my feelings? Oh, Grace, my best-beloved, forgive me 1 Forgive my folly and my blindness 1" With a plaintive cry of satisfied yearn ing, ouch os may escape from one who suddenly finds a long-sought-for resting place, Grace Carmel turned to his em brace. He held her to him ; he covered her face with impassioned kisses, as he had once covered Edith Dane'* ; he whis pered all that man can whisper of poetry and tenderness. 8ba was silent from excess of bliss, but she felt that she could have lain where she was forever. "Yoa do hot speak,'' he jealously said; ■ • : i. "you do not tell me that yon forgive Oto past. Grace, say but one word; say you love me !" "Far deeper thnn another ever did, she murmured. "Oh, Ryle ! I will be more to you than she can have been !" "Grace, pardon my folly," he implored. "I am doing wrong ; I have forgotten my self strangely. Forgive, forgive me ! is madness to aspire to you. I have no right to seek to drag you down from your rank to my level." But she clung to him still. "Your own wife, your own dear wife," she whispered, "Kvle, Ryle ; only love me forever." i Never had Lady Avon seen or suspcct pd aU ght of the case regarding her daugk tcr an( j \[r. Bnuragarten. The revelation came upon her with a blow. It was Grace who, calling up her courage, imparted it. i nt0 a storm of anger; and then, finding it "The best plan, so far as I can see, will be to put a good face upon it, and let her have him." Lady Avon went her commands nnd reproaches produced; no impression upon Grace for good, wrote in haste for Lord Avon. , An flwful thj had ha p pene d, and he comp wlft t a momeB t's delay, was j what she curtly wrote . and the word ! "awful," be it understood, was in those ; d U8ed onl ln lt8 extreme sense, not, ! fls at preaent in ridiculous lightness. Lord : Ay#n ob d . "Ah," he remarked, as he sat listening to ills mother's tale. "I can now under stand that past capricious trick Grace played. She must even then have been in love with Baumgarten." Lady Avon sat in bitter mortification. "What is to be done?" slie asked. "Do you approve of him for your broth er-in-iaw, pray t , , , , your daughter ought to have made a very: different match. But yon know what, Grace is, mother; nnd circumstances alter. caseg- '> It was the plan pursued. It was the only pleasant plan, as Lord Avon had put It, that could be pursued. For Lady Grace held to her own will, and opposi tion would only have created scandal. "No, not altogether. My sister and OHAPTER IX. It was a long, red brick house, large and handsome, as many of these country rectories ure ; and on the spacious front lawn, one glorious morning at the end of June, might be seen the Rev. Ryle Baum garten, his wife and children. Grace snt on a bench under the shade of the lime trees; the rector stood by, talk ing with her. Two little boys were run ning about chasing a yellow butterfly. They were dressed alike, after the fashion of the day, in brown holland blouses, white socks, shoes aud broad-brimmed straw hats. Lady They were wonderfully alike, these two little half-brothers, each possessing his father's face in miniature; the same pale, healthy complexion, the fine, clear-cut features, the dark eyes so deeply set with in their long lashes, and the wavy browu hair, »oft as silk. But in disposition they were quite different. Cyras was bold, self willed, masterful, Charles gentle, pliant and timid. Cyras was tall and strong, and forward beyond his years ; the young er one was yielding, childish and back ward. Already Cyras constituted himself his brother's protector, and Charles in his hands was a tender reed, tion between them was great, ruther un Some people had prophesied that Lady The a flee usually so. Grace would repent her Imprudent mar riage. They proved to be wrong. Grace was intensely happy ln it. brought with her only five hundred a year to augment Mr. Baumgarten's means ; it was all she would enjoy until Lord Avon's death. She made a fairly kind stepmother to the little Cyras, but she had not the same affection for him as for Her baby, now in Jaquet's She had Charles. arms, was a fair girl, the little Gertrude, A large, low, open carriage, driven by liveried postilion, was stopping at the gate. Mr. Baumgarten hastened to nssist Lady Avon from it, and give her his arm. She walked slowly to the bench where her daughter was sitting. She was just the invalid as ever, had been so all these spine years ; but she did not seem to grow runeli The boys ran up to her. "The boys are like their father, Gra she observed, looking down at the infant ; "but Gertrude is like you." worse. "I suppose it is, my dear. Which of you little boys will go for a drive with "Yes," assented Grace, with a laugh. "Well," mnmnia, that is just as it should be, isn't it?" It must be you, Cyras, I think, as me? it is your birthday." "Oh, yes, yes !" cried the boy, eagerly ; "I will go. Jaquet, fetch my best hat." "Me, too," added little Charley. "No, I can't manage both of you," said Lady Avon. "You shall go another day, Charley ; perhaps to-morrow." "My bat, Jaquet !" again said Cyras, Impatiently, for the girl had not atirred. Lady Grace looked at her. "Do you hear?" she said, In her haugh ty way. "Master Cyras told you to fetch his hat. Bring his little cape as well." Now this was just what Jaquet hated. For Cyras to order her about imperious ly, and for her lady to confirm It. "Ryle," said Lady Avon to her son-in law, when Jaquet had gone for the thiags, "can you not do something or other to put down that fair?" She spoke of a pleasure fair which was held every midsummer on Whitton Com mon, and lasted for a week. The rector shook his head ln answer. "Why, no; how could I, Lady Avon?" "You have great influence in the pariah. Every one looks np to von. "But I hare non, over the fair. No one has. It possesses vested interest», you know," added Mr. Baumgarten, laugh lng, "and they are too strong te be in terfered with. I try to induce my people to keep away from It, that la all I can do. (To be continued.t STUDY OF AGRICULTURE. Valsa Determined by Attitude of Teachers Toward It. The value or ugrlcultura as a study In the rural schools will be determined largely by the attitude of teachers to ward it, says the New Y'ork Tribune. In the high school and the consoli dated rural school employing three or more teachers the problem of teaching agriculture successfully is not a diffi cult one, for in such schools the facili ties for illustrating the work are bet ter than in smaller ones and there, too, a teacher trained in agriculture can be employed to teach agriculture and the other sciences. Even In the aoe-roam rural school the difficulties, while they are numerous, are far from being in surmountable. In such schools, it Is true, teachers with a college education or with special training in agriculture are seldom fouud and teachers having sufficient originality and energy to free tiusnselves from a condition of abso lute depeudence upon the textbook soon command good salaries in other ixisltlone or Lake up some independent occupation. In the high school c*f Norton County. Kansas, prior to last year, there wer« offered college preparatory, normal, business and general science courses, but no course relating In any direct | way to the leading Industry of the j country, farming. The county superln tendent of schools, says D. J. Crosby j ln the y earb<¥)k of tlie Department of I Agriculture, had his attention forcibly directed to this lack ln the curriculum .. . , . , , , Ä °[ th ® hl * h "*oo\ by the experience a y° UQ K man who went to sc oo I front one of the many large furms la vicinity, took the four-year bus! course, wtalked one year in a local . bank at $30 a month and then conclud ed that he would he the gainer by go Such a young lng back to the farm, man, and there were many like him In the Norton County high school, would have welcomed nn agricultural course, and would hnye gone back to the farm much better prepared for the duties of life than he was with a buslnes* truln It was therefore decided that an the lug. agricultural course should take place of the general science course, and a graduate of the Kansas State Agri cultural College was hired to teach ag riculture and other sciences ln the high school. The teacher of agriculture re port* that he is well pleased with the way the boys take hold of the work. It ii proving popular In the school and 1 is entirely free from the prejudice he kttd anticipated at the outset, Ch»rl<l«> (• A«« upon ; dated Charities, says the Washington ! Star. The organization has been gath erlng ammunition In the shnpe of nn exhaustive aud Interesting study of "Family Desertion and Non-support Laws," which Includes a review of all the legislation ln the United States on the subject of wife desertion. William II. Baldwin, a member of the board of managers of the Associated Charities, has devoted months of voluntary labor and several hundred dollars from his AIM AT WIFE DESERTER». with Vigor on Thl. Erll. Men who desert their wives and leave their little children dependent public charity are to be gone ! after lu vigorous fashion by the Asso private purse to the completion of this valuable Inquiry, a pamphlet embracing 140 pages of pr i n ted matter Is the result of Mr. Baldwin's work nnd demands for les ure received by the Asso * , .. .. "? arly al1 the States of the Union. The movement for the reduction of family desertion and for the development of means whereby a recreant husband can be brought back and made to support his wife and llttl« ones Is spreading rap idly throughout the country, and the Associated Charities of Washington Is contributing Mr. Baldwin's study to the advancement of the movement ln other places. This Interesting study begins with a view of the number of deserted wives assisted by the Associated Charities during the last nine years. In this time, by adding the number of deserted families aided each year, Mr. Baldwin secures a total of 1,603 families who have required charitable assistance be cause their proper supporter had «way from hi* responsibility, later pages of the report suggest a model low which provides for the pun ishment of the man wbt deserts his family. It Is proposed to bring him to public trial and to semtenee him to a term of hard labor ln the workhouse, suspending sentence ln meat case« upon the man's agreement to contribute a reasonable »um for the support of bla family. run The An Interesting trial made ln England on a farm near Biggleswade shows that field* can be so illuminated by aeety that harvesting can be easily 1 . " . . .. , .' ! carrle<1 on at nlght * Ia thls two \ mowers, each cutting a six-foot swath. '«"ere employed and a field of fifteen acres was mowed ln three hours and ! thirty-five minutes. A gasoline trac tloa engine furnished the now* r . Har»e*tln* hr Gaa Llskt. r Theaters in Spokane J At the Columbia. "Olivette," a French opera in two acts, will be the hill presented this week at the Columbia theater by the The Zinn Musical Comedy company, piece has been rearranged, more com edy put in and many successful east ern song hits substituted for the opera chorus Kf, will be in its The Many new dances have been music. Kiory. arranged. The costumes and scenery will be entirely new and many gor geous electrical effects will be used. Among the musical numbers will be "Gliding Down the Bay," "Knights of the Mystic Star," "Moon Dear," "Fuss ing 'Round," Sob song. Goose," Spanish dance, "No One in the World Like You" and "Love in "Mother Springtime." Miss Jessie Brown will introduce a number of new dances. Popular prices prevail at this theater, which is under the able management of George M. Dreher. Vaudeville at the Washington. Showgoers delighting in vaudeville will find the attractions booked for the Washington this week of high grade and withal a little out of the ordinary run of vaudeville offerings. In addition to Roy McBain, the bari tone, who is one of the well known star attractions of the Washington, and the biograph, which always fur nishes amusement to the crowd, there will be several acts that are new. A calculator, "Solomon II," will be one. Solomon is reputed to have lightning skinned 40 ways when it comes to fig tiring. Others who will appear are: Miss Belle Stone, in a sensational high spiral act; the three "Flying Val entines," acrobats and poseurs; Smith O'Brien, an impersonator and mono | logue artist; Haverly and McRae, côm edians, and Eugene Emmett, the yod eler. Visitors to Spokane can have seats reserved for any of the following at tractions by writing Charles Muehl man, manager of the Spokane theater, senumg remittance as a guarantee. Prices range from 50 cents to $1.50. New Shows Coming to Spokane. 15-17—Augustin February Musical company'. February 20—West's Minstrels. February 22-26—McIntyre & Heath in "The Ham Tree." Daly February 25-26— Savagé's English Grand Opera company in "Mme. But terfly." March 2.—Paul Gilmore in "At Yale." March 4- 5—"Alice Sit by the Fire." March 10-11—"The Umpire With Fied Cace." March 12—"Buster Brown." March 13-14—Murray & Mack. March 16—"Uncle Tom's Cabin." March 18—Rosenthal (pianist). March 19—Florence Gale. March 20—Black Patti. March 21-22—Blanche Waise in "The Straight Road." March 23-24—George Primrose Min strels. March 25-25—"Forty-five Minutes From Broadway." March 28—Creston Clarke in "A Ragged Messenger." March 30-31—"My Wife's Family " Augustin Daly Musical Company. Two productions that are well known country. "A Country Girl' 'and "Gingalee," will be presented by the Augustin Daly Musi cal cotij any in the Snokane theater the latter part of this week The story of "A Country Girl" cen ters aro.in'l two country tnaids. Nan, a girl living among the Devonshire hills, who generally sacrifices herself in the interests of the man she loves, and Marjorie, who his become, un known to her village friends, a famous actress in London, and who returns to the scene of her childhood, dons the garb of a rustic lass and proceeds to enjoy the simplicity of life among her native surroundings. "Cingalee" is a real eastern produc tion, the plot of which is laid In Cey lon. The story turns upon the fortune of a young lady who is the heiress to a large estate in Ceylon. When she was 4 years of age she was given in n.arriage to a neighboring nobleman. Then, as years passed on, to escape her fate, she ran away and became a tea girl. "A Country Girl" will be given at Ihe Friday and Saturday evening per formances and at the Saturday mati r.ee, while "Cingalee" will he given Sunday evening. Feb. 22-23—McIntyre and Heath. McIntyre and Heath, who have gained a reputation In the east In their delineations of old fashioned negro characters, will be seen at the Spokane on February 22 and 23, In one of their -est known productions, "The Ham Tree," written by George V. Hobart. This play la a Klaw & Erlanger play. Seven Perish in a Big Fire. Berne, Feb. 12.—An entire family of seven perished in a fire at the Mor ^ en *j la l brewery at Steinbaeh Lake ' enU } al " r . ry at b el a , ' ^ on f tance - E ght members of another famlly narrowly escaped a s.milar fate.