The fioetor's Wife
BY MISS V.
f.f.H-i--H--H-4,H"r-H"H-
CHAPTER XIV. (Continued.) 1
"I nienn to. appropriate Mrs. Gilbert
for the whole of this day," he said,
cheerily; "and I shall Rive her n full
account of Wnvcrly, looked upon from
an archacloglcal, historical nntl iegen
dary point of view. Never mind your
flowers now, Holund; It's n very charm
ing bouquet, but you don't suppose Mrs.
Gilbert Is going to carry It about all
day? Take It Into the lodge yonder, and
auk them to put it In water; and in the
evening, If yon'ro very wood, Mrs. Gil
bert Hhall tnko it home to ornament her
parlor at Graybrldge."
The Kites were opened, and they went
in; iBabel arm-in-arm with Mr. Hay
mind. Roland placed himself presently on
one side of Isabel; but Mr. Raymond was
so very Instructive that all Mrs. Gil
bert's attention wns taken up In the ef
fort to understand his discourse, which
wns very pleasant and lively, in spite of
Its instructive nature.
It was a very pleasant morning alto
gether. There was a strangely mingled
feeling of dissatisfaction ninl annoyance
In Roland Lansdcll's mind, as he stroll
ed beside Isabel, and listened, or appear
ed to listen, to Mr. Raymond's talk. He
would like to have had Isabel's little
hand lying lightly on his arm; he would
like to have those wondering black eyes
lifted to his face; he would like her to
have heard the romantic legends belong
ing to the ruined walls and rootless ban
quet chambers from liiin. And yet, per
haps, it was better as It was. lie was
going away very soon, and It was bet
ter not to lull himself in soft delights
that were so soon to be taken away from
his barren life. Yes, his barren life.
He had come to think of his fate with
bitter repining, and to look upon him
nelf as, somehow or other, cruelly 111
used by Providence.
The sun was low when they left the
ruins of the feast. The moon had risen,
bo pale as to bo scarcely distinguishable
from a faint summer cloud high up in
the clear opal heaven. Mr. Raymond
took Isabel up by a winding staircase to
the top of a high turret, beneath which
spread green meads and slopes of ver
dure, where once hnd been a lake. Ro
land went with them, of course, and snt
looking out at the still night. Soon the
voice of George Gilbert sounded from
below, deeply sonorous among the wall
and towers, cat.lng to Isabel.
"I must go," she said. "I dare say
the fly Is ready to take us back. Good
night, Mr. Raymond; good night, Mr.
Lansdell."
"But I nm going down with you to the
gate." said Roland; "do you think we
could let you go down those slippery
stairs by yourself, to fall and break your
neck, and haunt the tower by moonlight
forever afterward, a pale ghost in shad
owy muslin drapery? Here's Mr. Gil
bert," he added, as the top of George's
hat made itself visible upon the wind
lug staircase; "but I'm sure 1 know the
turret better than he does, and I shall
take you under my care."
He took her hand as he spoke, and
led her down the dangerous winding way
. as carefully and tenderly 'as If she had
been a littlu child. Her hand did not
tremble us It rested in his; but something
llko a mysterious winged creature tha
had long been imprisoned In her breast
seemed to break Its bonds all at once,
and lloat away from her toward him
She thought it was her long-Imprisoned
s.oul, perhaps, that so left her, to be
come a part of his. If that slow down
ward journey could have laBted forever!
But the descent did not last very long,
careful as Roland was of every step; and
there was the top of George's hat bob
bing about in the moonlight all the time.
"Remember to-morrow," Mr. Lnnsdell
said, generally, to the Graybrldge party
, ns they took their seats. "I shall ox
peet you as soon as the afternoon service
is over. I know you are regular church
goers nt Graybrldge. Couldn't you come
to Mordred for the afternoon service, by
the bye 7 the church is well worth see
ing." There was a little discussion; and
It was .finally agreed that Mr. and Mrs.
Gcorgo Gilbert and Sigismund should go
to Mordred church on tho following uf
. tcrnoon.
Mr. Lnnsdell and Mr. Raymond walk
ed along tho lonely road under the
shadow of the castle wall, and for some
minutes neither of them spoke. Mr. Ray
mond was rather puzzled how to com
incnco the conversation; when he did be
Kin. ho began very abruptly, tuning what
one might venture to call a conversation
al header.
"Roland," he said, "this won't do."
"What won't do 7" asked Mr. Lnns
dell coolly.
"Of course, I don't set up for being
your mentor," returned Mr. Rnyniond,
"or for having any right to lecture you,
or dictate to you. Tho tie of kinsman-
ship between us is n very slight one; as
far ns that goes, neuvon Knows mat i
could scarcely love you better than I
do If I wero your fattier, nut you are
doing mischief; you are turning this silly
fflrl's bead. It is no kindness to lend
her books; it is no kindness to Invite
her to Mordred, and to bIiow her brief
glimpses of a life that never can be hers.
If you want to do a good deed, and to
elevate her life out of its 'present dead
level, mako her your almoner, and give
her n hundred a year to distribute
amongst her husband's poor patient. The
weak, unhappy child Is perishing for
want of some duty to perforin upon this
earth, some necessary task to Keep Her
busy from day to day, and to wake a
E. BRADDOM
ink between her husband nnd herself.
Roland, I do believe that you are as good
and generous-minded a fellow as ever
an old bachelor was proud of. My dear
)oy, let nio feel prouder of you than I
have ever felt yet. Leave to-morrow
morning. It will be easy to Invent some
excuse for going. Go to-morrow, Ho-
and."
"I will," answered Mr. Lansdell, after
a br.'ef pause. "I will go, Raymond," lie
repeated, holding out his hand and clasp-
ng that of his friend. "I suppose I have
been going a little astray lately; but I
only wanted the voice of a true-hearted
fellow like you to call me back to the
straight rjud. I shall leave to-morrow,
Raymond, and It may be a very long
time before you see me back again."
The watchdog's honest bark or rather
the bark of Feveral wntchdog made the
night clamorous presently, when Mr.
Lnnsdell drew rein before the porch; but
there was no eye to mark his coming,
and be brighter when he came; unless, In
deed. It was the eye of his valet.
"iou may set to work at once with
my portmanteaus, Jndis," he said, when
ic met his servant in the hall. "I must
eave Mordred to-morrow morning in
time for the 7 o'clock express from
Wamcliffe. You can go to bed when
you've finished packing. I've some let
ters to write, and shall be late."
The letters which he had to write
turned out to be only one letter, or, rath
er, n dozen variations upon tho same
theme, which he tore up, one after an
other, almost as soon as they were writ
ten. He was not wont to be so fastidi
ous in the wording of his en sties, but
to-night he could not be satisfied with
what he wrote. He wrote to Mrs. Gil
bert, yes, to her! Why should he not
write to her when he was going away
to-morroW morning when he was going
to offer up that vague, bright dream
which had lately beguiled him, a willing
sacrifice, on the altar of duty and honor?
"Dear Mrs. Gilbert I much regret
that circumstances which only came to
my knowledge after your party left last
night, will compel me to leave Mordred
early to-morrow morning. I am, there
fore, compelled; to forego the pleasuro
which I anticipated from our friendly lit
tle dinner to-morrow evening; but pray
assure Smith that the Priory Is entirely
at his dispoeal whenever he likes to come
here.
"I hope you will convey to Mr. Gil
bert my warmest thanks, with the ac
companying cheek, for the kindness and
skill which have endeared Jiltn to my
cottagers. I shall be very glad if he will
continue to look after them, and I will
arrange for the carrying out of any
sanitary improvements lie may suggest
to Hodgson, my steward.
"The library will be always prepared
for you whenever you feel Inclined to
read and study there, and the contents of
tho shelved will be entirely at the service
of yourself nnd Mr. Gilbert.
"With regards, to your husband, nnd
all friendly whiles for Smith's prosper
ity nnd success, I remain, dear Mrs. Gil
bert, very truly yours,
"ROLAND LANSDELL."
CHAPTER XV.
Mr. and Mrs. Gilbert went to church
arm-in-arm, as usual, on the morning
after the picnic; Sigismund stayed at
home to sketch. The day was very tine
a real summer day, with a blazing sun
and a cloudless blue sky. The sunshine
seemed llko a good omen, Mrs. Gilbert
thought, as she dressed herself in the
white muslin robe that she was to wear
at Mordred.
She was thinking of the wonderful hap
piness thnt lay before her an evening
among pictures nnd hothouse flowers nnd
ninrblo busts nnd trailing silken curtains,
and with glimpses of a moonlit expanse
of lawn1 and shrubbery glancing through
every open window, when a bell rang
loud nnd shrill In her ear, and looking
round suddenly, she saw a .man In liv
ery standing outside the garden gate.
flic doctor's wife turned the key In tho
lock and opened the gate; but the man
only wanted to deliver a letter.
"From Mr. Lnnsdell. ma'am." he said.
She read It very hurriedly twice, and
then all at once comprehended that Ro
land was going away for some years
forever it was all the same tiling; and
that she would never, never, never, never
the word seemed to repeat itself in
her brain like the dreadful clanging of
a bell never see him again!
She knew that Sigismund was looking
nt her, and asking her some question
nbout the contents of the letter. "What
did Lnnsdell say? was it a put-off, or
what?" Mr. Smith demanded; but Isabel
did not answer him. She handed him
the open letter, nnd then, suddenly turn
ing from him, ran into the house, up
stairs Into her room. Site locked tho
door, Hung herself face downward upon
the bed, and wept as a woman weeps in
the first great, agony of her life. The
sound of those passionate sobs was stilled
by the pillows amidst which her face was
buried, but the anguish of them shook
her from head to foot. It was very
wicked to have thought of him so much,
to have loved him so dearly. The pun
ishment of her sin came to her nil nt
once, nnd was very bitter.
Mr. Gilbert went upstaris, by and by,
nnd finding the door of her chamber
locked, knocked on tho panel, and asked
Isabel If she did not menu to go to
church. But she told him she hnd a
dreadful headache, and wanted to stay
at home.
Mrs. Gilbert got up by and by, when
the western sky was all one lurid glow
of light and color. She got up because
there was little peace for n weary spirit
In that chamber, to the door of which
some considerate creature came every
half hour or so to ask Isabel if her
head wan any better by this time, if she
would have a cup of tea, if sho would
come downstairs and lie on the sofa, and
to torment her with muuy other thought
ful inquiries of the like nature. She
was not to be alone ,wltli her great sor
row, Sooner or later she must go out
and begin life again, and face the blank
world In which he -was not. Better,
since It must be so, that she should begin
her dreary task at once. She bathed her
face and head, she plaited her long black
hair before the little glass, behind which
the lurid skies glared redly at her. Ah,
how often in the sunny morning she had
stood before that shabby, old-fashioned
glass thinking of him, nnd the chance
of meeting liim beside the mill stream,
under tho flickering slindows of the oak
leaves at Thurston Crag! And now it
was ail over, and she would never, never,
never, never see him again.
She went downstairs by and by, in the
dusk, with her face as white as the tum
bled muslin that hung about her in limp
and llabby folds. She went down Into
the little parlor, where George and Sigis
tnund were waiting for tea.
She told them that her head was bet
ter; and then began to make the tea,
scooping up vague quantities of Congo
and gunpowder with the little silver
scallop-shell which hnd belonged to Mrs.
Gilbert's grandmother.
"Hut you've been crying, Izzie!"
George exclaimed, presently, for Mrs.
Gilbert's ey?lids looked red and swollen
in the light of the candles.
"Yes, my head was so bad it made
me cry; but please don't ask me any
more about it," Isabel pleaded, pitcously.
"1 suppose it was the n picnic" she
nearly broke down upon the word, re
membering how good he hnd been to her
all through that happy day "yesterday
that made me ill."
"I dare say it was that lobster salad,"
Mr. Gilbert answered briskly. "I ought
to have told you not to eat it."
Sigismund Smith watches his hostess
with a grave countenance, while she
poured out the tea and hnnded the cups
right and left. Poor Isabel managed It
all with tolerable steadiness; and then,
when the miserable task was over, she
snt by the window alone, staring blankly
out at the dusty shrubs distinct in tho
moonlight.
CHAPTER XVI.
All through the autumnal months, all
through the dreary winter, George Gil
bert's wife endured her existence, and
hated it. The days were all .alike, all
"dark, and cold, nnd dreary," and her
life was "dark, and cold, and drenry,"
like the days.
Mrs. Gilbert did not forget thnt pass
age in Roland Lansdcll's letter, in which
he had placed the Mordred library at
her disposal.
The first visit to Mordred made the
doctor's wife very unhappy. Was it not
a reopening of all the old wounds? Hav
ing broken the Ice, however, she went
very often to the Priory; and on one or
two occasions even condescended to take
an early cup of tea with Mrs. Warman,
the housekeeper.
One day in March, one bleak day,
when the big fires in the rooms nt Mord
red seemed especially comfortable, Mrs.
Gilbert carried her books into an inner
apartment, half boudoir, half drawing
room, at the end of a long suite of splen
did chambers. She took off her bonnet
and shawl, and smoothed her dark hair
before the glass. She had altered a lit
tie since the autumn, nnd the face that
looked out at her to-day was thinner
and older than that passionato tenr-blot-
tetl face which she had seen In the glass
on the night of Roland Landsell's dcpnrt
ure. Her sorrow had not been the less
real because It was weak and childish,
nnd hnd told considerably upon her np
pearance. But she was getting over it.
She was almost sorry to think it wns so,
She was almost grieved to find that her
grief was less keen than it had been six
months ago, nnd thnt the splendor of
Roland Lansdcll's image was perhaps a
trifle faded.
The Priory clocks struck three sue
ceedlng hours, but Mrs. Gilbert snt in
the same attitude, thinking of Roland
Lnnsdell. The thought of going homo
nnd facing her dally life again wns un
utternniy paint ill to nor. Unce inoro
Isabel Gilbert flonted away upon tho
wings of sentiment nnd fancy, into that
unreal region where the young squire of
Mordred reigned supreme, beautiful as
a prince in a fairy tale, grand as a demi
god in some classic legend.
The French clock on the mantel-piece
chimed the half hour after four, and
Mrs. Gilbert looked up nroused for a
moment from her reverie.
"Half past four," she thought; "it will
be dark at six, and I have a long walk
home."
She paused suddenly. The door of tho
boudoir was ajar; all the other doors In
the long range of rooms were open, and
she heard footsteps coming rapidly to
ward her; a man s footstep!
Her heart beat violently, her hands
clasped, her lips apart and tremulous,
And In the next moment tho step was
close to the threshold, tho door was
pushed open, and she was face to faco
with Roland Lnnsdell Roland Lnnsdell,
whom she never thought to see ngaln
upon this earth! Roland Lansdell, whose
face had looked at her in her dreams by
day and night any time within these
last six months!
"Isabel Mrs. Gilbert!" he said, hold
jug out both his hands, and taking Iiltb,
which were as cold ns death.
She tried to speak, but no sound came
from her tremulous, hps. She could ut
ter no word of welcome to this restless
wanderer, but stood before him breath
less mid trembling. Mr. Lnnsdell drew
a chair toward her, and made her sit
down.
(To bo continued.)
GOOD
ShortQ
tor ies i
KKfMl l t 1 I H I 1 1H II H
If Nelson wns not nn author he nt
least enriched tho language with one
(rent, though diversely reported,
phrase. He wns one day talking to
Mrs. Swinburne, of Hnmsterly, nnd the
conversation turned on Frenchmen. "I
never see n Frenclnnnn, Mrs. Swin
burne," said Nelson, "without shiver
ing from head to foot."
A colored undertaker was requested
to embalm the body of n colored man.
The wife of the deceased asked what
the cost would be. He named Ills usunl
charge, to which she quickly replied:
I think that's too much." "But It is
the regular fee," protested the under
taker. "That mny be," nssented the
widow, "but this ain't a regular corpse.
My husbnnd hnd n wooden leg."
A red-headed man one night raked
up enough courage to propose to a girl
with whom he was very deeply and sin
cerely in love. She replied to his suit
n u sad voice: "I'm very sorry,
George, but I could never marry any
one with rod hair." "That is nothing,"
said her suitor, "my barber tells me
that at the rate my hair is falling out
I'll be completely bald in two years."
Bishop Bloomlleld, of England, dis
covered one day, ns he entered the pul
pit, he had forgotten the manuscript of
his sermon. He was obliged to preach
extempore, taking for Ills theme the
existence of God. As he walked home
he overtook one of his congregation,
whose opinion of the sermon he in
vited. "Well, It were a very good ser
mon," was the reply, "but I don't agree
wi' it. I believe there is a God."
The number of Joneses In Wales is
illustrated by a story told of a certain
Oxford college, much resorted to by
Welshmen. A man from another col-
lego went Into its "quad" in search of
a friend, and called "Jones!" All the
windows looking on the "quad" Hew
open. "I want .lotin .Jones, said tne
man. Half the windows closed. "I
mean the John Jones who has got a
toothbrush." All the windows closed
but one.
A Christian Brahmin wns preaching
the gospel in the Dei-can, when a Hin
doo in the congregation began vehe
mently to contradict. In good Oriental
fashion the sermon was Immediately
suspended, and the disputants retired
to a garden to settle the point at their
leisure. The substance of the debate
was this: "You declare God to bo in
finite," said the Hindoo. "Yes." "What
Is the meaning of infinite?" "It means
limitless." "And what part of speecn
Is good?" "Good Is nn adjective."
"And what Is the grammatical func
tion of nn adjective?" "To limit a
noun." "How then do you npply nn
adjective to God, calling Him good,
and thus limiting the limitless?"
In the early days, when the people
sent their wisest men to make the pub
'lie laws, a mnn of peculiar traits, but
of sterling worth, was sent to the State
Legislature from a small Eastern
town. He wore an old-fashioned rustic
costume, which was sadly out of place
in tho legislative hall, where some of
the fastidious statesmen vied with
each other In the correctness of their
attire. Soon after Ills arrival one of
the representatives called out to him:
Hnve you no smarter men than you
to send to the Legislature from your
district?" Tho man smiled Innocently,
as he replied: "There's a heap o
smarter men up my way, but the devil
of it is they hain't got no clothes good
enough to wear down here."
POPULAR BELIEFS.
iKIIOI-IIIIt'C UN
to the I.imv In Ever)-OoL-lirrenecM.
day
It Is an American predilection to be
lleve the outre nnd freakish stories
that are based solely on hearsay testl
mony nnd to reject often the com
monplace matters of fact. A list of
the cheerful lies that are commonly
believed would Jill a volume. Only i
few of them are given below:
How often have you been infllctci'
with the story of the man who was
overpaid when cashing a check at the
bank, and the cashier telling him that
no mistakes would be corrected after
the customer left the window? Ac
cording to the story, the cashier laid
flown the mandate before he knew the
mistake was in his favor. It makes an
excellent yarn, but diligent search dls
doses that It never had any fotinda
lion in fact. Banks have no such rule,
If a customer is underpaid or overpah
the mistake will appear when the bal
unce is struck at the end of the day's
business, nnd tho error will be cheer
fully rectified. But the majority of tin
public believes tho iletitlous story of
"how the fellow got tho best of the
bunk" simply because It is n good story
uhd they like to believe It
Probably the most common error on
the part of the public is the belief tha
when a dead body Is found no one lias
i -right to touch or move the remain
'until the coi-onef comos.'v There never
was uuy buui law, la not now mul
probably never Trill be. Tho cltl7.cn.
who is of an Inquiring turn of inlnfj
has n perfect right to examine dead
bodies he runs across in the course, of
his travels, to move the remains and
even search the pockets of the de
censed, provided, of course, that ills
motives are honest. That is all that la
necessary.
There is nlso n prevalent belief that
a note signed or contract entered into
on Sunday is void and thnt either par
ty can plead the fact of Uie sacred day
to get. out of ii hnd bargain. This la
not true. If a man enters Into u con
tract or signs a note on Sunday he is
legally bound and can have no de
fenses that he would not have if tho
transaction had occurred In the mid
dle of the week.
"I had my back against my owu.
house when I struck this man," says
the defendant hi police court. He be
lieves that ills proximity to his castle
gives him more rights than lie would
have If lie were In the street. Tltla
belief has been tho cause of much can
tankerous litigation, and It has ever re
sulted In the ruling that a man has a
Ight to defend himself in a reasonable
manner if he Is attacked, whatever
may be his geographical position, and
the incidental contiguity of ills homo
cuts no ice" in the case.
Doctors agree that tho public Is
wrong in the popular conception that
burglars sometimes chloroform the In
mates of a house before committing a
obbery. The usual story Js that tho
naesthetlc was squirted into the sleep
ug room through keyholes. A Kansas
City surgeon who has had occasion to
administer chloroform or ether 500
times says thnt chloroform adminis
tered In this manner would put a
quietus on the burglar, as well as tho
Inmates of a home. Physicians havo
tried many times to administer chloro
form to sleeping persons, and have met
with very poor results. The llrst effect
of an unnestlietic Is not to lull to In
sensibility, but to arouse all the men
tal and physical vigor of the person to
whom It is given.
Tlie public has great confidence in
the magic No. l, and without nny rea
sonable basis for the belief. It is com
monly believed that if a drowning per
son sinks for a third time he is gono
for good and all. The facts contradict
tills. Many persons die on the first
sinking, and If one has the strength
and the vitality to rise to the surface
of the water twice it furnishes an ex
cellent presumption that he will bo
able to do so again. In nn eddy or
apldly-nioving waters people havo
sunk from sight a half dozen times
and lived to tell the experience to their
grnndchlldren.
Then there Is the third congestive
chill, commonly believed to be fatal.
Most people who die from this causo
succumb to the llrst or second attack.
If a man succeeds In weathering two
of them the odds are In favor of his
coming out victor in the third. Almost
every community possesses a citizen
who boasts the fact that he lias a sil
ver plate in his skull. Surgeons say
that very few attempts were ever
made at such an operation, and nil of"
them wero failures. There does not
exist a man who has n sliver plate In
his skull, although many men honest
ly believe thnt they are carrying thltf
species of paraphernalia in their crani
utns. The bone of the skull cannot
live and he healthy in tho presence of
a foreign body. It is said by surgeons
to be a physical Impossibility, but this
serves in no way to overcome the com
mon and erroneous belief.
The medical fraternity has another
false belief to combat in cases of
"shingles." The disease consists of a
skin eruption always following affect
ed nerves, and commonly appearing on
the body. It Is a very common belief
that If the "shingles" completely sur
round the body and strike a meeting
point the patient will die instantly.
The belief Is untrue. Kansas City
Journal.
No Smoke For llliu.
There Is n clever young physician
in Philadelphia who has never been
able to smoke a cigar. "Just ono
poisons me," says the youthful doctor.
Recently the doctor was Invited to a
large dinner party given by a New
York friend. At the conclusion of tho
repast, when the women iiad left tho
table, cigars were accepted by all tho
men except the physician from Phil
adolphla. Seeing his friend refuse tho
cigar, tho host in astonishment ex
claimed: "What, not smoking? Why, my dear
fellow, you lose half your dinner!"
"Yes, I know I do," meekly replied
the doctor, "but If I smoked, I would
lose tlie whole of It!"
loh it Ilny'w Humor.
It is said that the late John Ha.y
was once the subject of a cane presen
tation, and stood while tho spokesman
of the donors made a speech that ran
Into an elaborate oration.
A friend afterward commented to tho
diplomatist on the length of the.
speech.
"Yes," replied Hay, "ho didn't want
me to have the cane till I really need
ed it." '
Never Judge a woman's beauty by
her make-up.