‘'^BjjB^BYMAWON MARL / INTERNATIONAL PRESS ASSOCIATION ■ CHARTER II_fCosTiircKD.1 She had kept her heart alive upon nothing else for eight years—dreams Of home, and love, and appreciation; of liberty to speak out what she toad never lisped since her mother died, and of being once again, Joyously and with out reserve, herself. There are no harder specters to lay than these same dreams. Memories, however dear and sacred, are more easily forgotten or dismissed, or smothered by the growth of later ones. If she bade them fare well now, dt was for a lifetime. “A ■lifetime!” she repeated, shivering with a sick chill, and crouching lower over the register. "Maybe ten, maybe [twenty—who knows but forty years? It ils a tedious slumber of one’s heart, and ja loveless marriage Is a loathsome sep ulcher for one's better and real self. A lifetime! and I can have but one! But one! If this step should be ruin and ,misery, there can be no redemption [this side of the grave. His grave, per haps—just as probably mine!” | To-night, this very hour, she must [resist the glittering temptation to fore swear her womanhood, or murder, with |her own hand, the dear visions that had Icome to be more to her than reality.The (Winter twilight had fallen early. It was •the season best loved by her dream Ivisltors. She had not lied in declaring [to her inquisitor that she had never [been in love, but she confessed (that she had equivocated as the shadowy figure of her • ideal lover stood beside her in the •friendly gloom. Mrs. Romaine would jhave questioned her sanity had she guessed how the girl had sobbed her 'griefs into quiet upon his bosom, how •talked lowly but audibly to him of her • love and the comfort his presenco I brought. She had never looked into !his facfe, but she should know him in jan instant, should they two ever meet jin the flesh, as they did now dally in [spirit. Somewhere in the dim and blessed future he was waiting for her, and she had borrowed patience from the hope. She was to be his wife—the .mother of children as unlike the prodl ,gies or repression that lined two sides lot her brother's table as cherubs to i puppets. She wolcomed them to her iarjns In theie twilight trances. They lolled upon her knees, slept In her em brace, strained eager arms about her neck, dappled her cheek with their kisses. Unsubstantial possessions these, but cherished as types ot good things to come. Other women had such riches—-women with faces less fair and 'affections less ardent than hers. If thp Great Father was good and merci ful, and the Rewarder of them who put their trust In Him, a true and loving iParent, who rejoiced In the happiness of His creatures—all these must be 'hers at jaat. If she resigned them now 'It was a filial separation. "And I can have but one lifotlme,” she moaned again. Thwarted and fruit less thus far, but still all she had. The one Idea recurred to her with the persistency at a presentiment. The life which Ood had given, the heart He had endowed! "If some one, strongen and wiser thah I, would only take the responsibility of decision from my soul, would diedge mo in on the right and left, I would go forward? As it is, I dare not! I dare not!" She sobbed and wrung her hands in the agonies of irresolution. "You told Constance about the tele gram?" It wae her brother speaking in the library below. The sound aroso plainly through the open register, “I did. But I regret to say that she Is not yet In the frame of mind we could wish her to carry to the Interview with Mr. Withers,” said Mrs. Romalne. She always expressed herself with delib erate precision even in conjugal tete a-tete.. “No?" Constance heard the rustle of the evening paper as Charles laid it down, and the creak of his chair as he confronted his wife. "What is the mat ter?"' "Some overstrained ideas of the beau ty and propriety of reciprocal devotion, I believe. She looks for a hero in a husband, and Mr. Withers has nothing heroic in his appearance or composi tion." i is worth more than half a mil lion, all accumulated by his own' tal ents and Industry,” returned Mr. Ro maino. ‘‘Constance cannot be such an egiegious simpleton as not to perceive ;the manifest advantages of this connec tion to her. I have never complained of the burden of her maintenance, but I have ofteu wpndered her own sense of justice and expediency did not urge her to put forth some effort at self-sup port. There is but one way in which she can do this. She Is hot sufficiently thorough In any branch of literature; or any accomplishment, to become a successful teacher. Ip the event of my death or failure in business she would |be driven to the humiliating resource 'of tajtlng in sewing for a livelihood, or ;to aeWt tin' more degrading position of ;a saleswoman In a store. Her future has been g source of much and anxious tho'jght with me. This marriage .would, r hoped, quiet my apprehpn ■ions lyr settling her handsomely in life. If she refuses Withers I shall be both angry and disappointed. She Is old euough to leave off school-girl sen timentality." The listener put out her foot and shut th* register noiselessly. She had had n surfeit of disagreeable truth for that time. - Vst It -km*- trpt^, every word of it. She bras a ihean-golri'.ed hanger-on to ‘ ji- ' . "9' tl", t M ^ jfe; *.W * -I* . J . . ' '* » her brother. She wae incapable of earning a livelihood by other means than those he had named. Her mode of life from her Infancy had unfitted her for toll and privation, such as must be hers were her plain-spoken benefac tor to die to-morrow. Nor had she the moral nerve to defy public opinion, to debar herself from accustomed associa tions and pleasures by entering the ranks of paid laborers. Hesitation was at an end. The wish that had been al most a prayer in solemn sincerity was answered fearfully soon, and she would offer no appeal. Her destiny was taken out of -her hands. There was no more responsibility, no more strug gling. Hedges to the right and to the left bristled with thorns, sharp and thick as porcupine quills. But one path lay open to her feet—a short and straight course that conducted her to Elnathan Withers' arms. CHAPTER III. ALP past five! I wrote to Harriet to have dinner ready at six. We shall be Just in time,” said Mr. Withers, as he took his seat in the carriage that was to convey him with his bride from the depot to their Constance was Jaded by her fort rfght’s travel, and dispirited almost be yond her power of concealment, but she had learned already that her lord dis liked to have whatever observation he was pleased to make go unanswered. "She is your housekeeper, I suppose?” she replied, languidly. "No that is—she does not occupy the position of a salaried inferior in my establishment. I must surely have spoken to you of my cousin, Harriet Field." Not that I recollect. I am sure that I never heard the name until now.” ‘‘Her mother,” continued Mr. With ers, in a pompous narrative tone, “was my father s sister. Left a widow ten years prior to her decease, she accept ed my invitation to take charge of my house. She brought with her only child, the Harriet of whom I speak, and the .two remained with me until our family group was broken in upon by death. Harriet would then have sought a situation as governess but for my objections. She is a woman of thirty-five, or thereabouts, and I pre vailed over her scruples touching the propriety of her continued residence under my roof, by representing that her mature age, even more than our relationship, placed her beyond the, reach of scandal. For eighteen months she has superintended my domestic af fairs to my entire satisfaction. That I have not alluded directly to her before during our acquaintanceship is only to be accounted for by the circumstance that we have had so many other and more engrossing topics of conversa tion.” He raised her gloved hand to his lips in stiff gallantry, and Constance smiled constrainedly in reply. His endearments, albeit he was less profuse of them than a younger and more ardent bridegroom would have been, wore yet frequient enough to keep his wife In unfailing remembrance of his claims and her duties. He was, ap parently, content with her passive sub mission to these, seemed to see in her forced complaisance evidence of her pleasure in their reception. He was too seriate^ as well as too gentlemanly, to be openly conceited, but his apprecia tion of his own Importance in society and in business circles was too pro found to admit a doubt of the supreme bliss of the woman he had selected to share his elevated position. Without being puppyish, he was pragmatical: without being ill-tempered, he was te nacious in the extreme of his dignity and the respect he considered due to this. Hud her mood been lighter Con stance would have been tempted to smile at the allusion to his cousin’s age, his own exceeding it by three years, as she had accidentally learned through the Indiscretion of a common acquaint ance. He was sensitive upon this point she had likewise been informed. She had yet to discover upon how many others. Most young wives would not have relished the idea of finding this inval uable relative installed as prime man ager In her new abode. It mattered lit tle to her, Constance said, still languid ly, who ruled and who obeyed. She had given up so much within three months past that resignation had be come a habit; sacrifice was no longer an effort. Having nothing to hope for, she could sustain no further loss. How long this nightmare of apathy would continue Was a question that did not present itself in her gray musings. Having once conquered Nature, and hekl Inclination under the heel of Re solve, until life seemed extinct, she an ticipated no resurrection. She did not know that no single battle, however long and bloody, constitutes a cam paign; that length of days and many sorrows are needed to rob youth of elasticity; that the guest who lingers longest in the human heart, clinging to the shattered shelter from which all other joys have flown, is Hope. It is doubtful If she thought with any dis tinctness at this period. She was cer tainly less actively miserable than In that which immediately preceded her. engagement: That was amputation; this, reactionary weariness. How she - . v' * would fare by and by, when the wound had become a scar, she thought of least ef all. It was a handsome carriage In which she rode at the master’s right hand. A pair of fine horses pranced before it, and a liveried coachman sat on the box. She had sometimes envied other women the possession of like state. She ought to derive delight from these outward symbols of her ele vation In the world. It was an impos ing mansion, too, before which the equipage presently paused, and a tall footman opened the front door and ran briskly down to the sidewalk to assist the travelers in alighting. None of her associates, married or single, lived in equal style, she reflected with a stir of exultation, as she stepped out, be tween her husband and his lackey. Mr. Withers’ address dampened the rising glow. “This is our home, my dear. You will find no cause of discontent with it, I hope,” he said, In benign patronage, handing her up the noble flight of stone steps. ' • v . < ■. Thank you,” ahe replied, coldly. "It Is a part of the price for which I sold i myself,” she was meditating. “I must not quarrel with my bargain.” Miss Field met them In the hall—a wasp-like figure, surmounted by a small head. Her neck was bare and crane-like; her face very oval, her skin opaque and chalky; her hair black and shining, the front in long ringlets; her eyes jet beads, that rolled and twin kled incessantly. “My dear cousin!” she cried, effusive ly embracing her patron’s hand and winking back an officious tear. “It is like sunshine to have you home again. How are you?” "Well—thank you, Harriet; or, I should say, in tolerable health,” re turned Mr. Withers, magnificently con descending. "Allow me to introduce my wife, Mrs. Withers!” Miss Field swept a flourishing cour tesy. Constance, as the truer lady of the two, offered her hand. It was grasped very slightly, and instantly re linquished. “Charmed to have the honor, I am sure!” murmured Miss Field. “I trust I see Mrs. Withers quite well? But you, cousin—did I understand you to intimate that you were indisposed?” with strained solicitude. “A trifling attack of indigestion, not worth mentioning to any ears except ing yours, my good nurse.” Miss Field smiled indulgence In this concession to her anxiety, and Con stance, who now heard of the "indis position” for the first time, looked from one to the other in surprised si lence, “Perhaps Mrs. Withers would like to go directly to her apartments?” pur sued Harriet, primly, with another courtesy. “By all means,” Mr. Withers replied for her. “As it is, I fear your dinner will have to wait for her, If, as i pre sume is the case, you are punctual as is your custom.” “Could I fail in promptitude upon this day of all others?” queried Har riet, sentimentally arch, and preceded the bride upstairs. tTO HI COXTtXUl l.) HER CONTRIBUTION ACCEPTED. Her llrothor Paid for It at Advertising Kate*. Here is the amusing experience of an amateur literary aspirant which was told to me a few days ago, says a writar in the New York Commercial Adver tiser. i , « - ■ ■ vJ A young woman in New York wrote one day a short skit intended to be humorous. It aroused favorable com ment from her circle of friends and ahe made up her mind that it was good enough to be published in one of the humorous periodicals. Accordingly she submitted it to first one periodical, then another. It was a brief skit, only about fifty lines in all, and, aa her brother indulgently said, “couldn’t pos sibly have done any harm.” But still the hard-hearted editors failed to see the humor of it and kept sending it back to her. Finally the young author lost heart completely and was about to bury her poor little skit in the depths of her portfolio. Then her brother took pity on her and said: "Here, give me your skit. I’ll get it published or know the reason why.” A week or two later her skit ap peared in one of the humorous papero, and the young contributor enjoyed all the delights of first authorship, sending marked copies of the paper to friends, etc., etc. The contribution did not oc cupy a prominent place. It was among the advertisements, but the author had seen many comics among the adver- I tisements and she was too content* to see her contribution in type to ii quire farther. She never knew whi that twinkle in her brother s eyi meant and that ho had paid fnlLadve tising rates to insert her skit in “fifi lines spaee, single column, one inse Uon.”; , ■. . . , .7 ■- ♦ J-'i ■ it Before and After. “Do you really think he knows very much?",/ -f i ■«,, • , «, it- . v "My dear, sir: he knows as much as the average politician thinks he knows.” As much as he thinks he knows before or after the nomination?" The Finishing Touches, Husband (to wife in full evening dress)—"My stars! Is that all you are going to wear?” Wife (calmly)—“All, except the flow ers. Which of these clusters would you select?" Husband (resignedly)—“The big-, gest." The man who don’t forget ennything Isn’t a going to le?rn mutch more. DAISY AND PODLTEY. INTERESTING CHAPTERS FOR OUR RURAL READERS. How Successful Farmers Operate This Department of the Farm—A Few Hints as to the Care of Lire Stock and Poultry. E met Mr. Henry Sowden of Mans field on a train the other day, and while he was tell ing us about his White Wyandottes, and the pleasure he had in them, an amused smile came into his face as he told us of an experience he had in selling eggs for hatching this sum mer, says Farm Poultry. A neigh bor had admired the White Wyandottes quite frequently, and expressed a wish to buy a sitting of eggs. Mr. S. told him he had none to spare this year, wanted them all himself. After he was all done setting hens for the season the neighbor came again and wanted eggs. Mr. S. told him he wasn’t keeping them separate, but thought he knew the White Wyandotte eggs pretty well, and could pick out a sitting. Feeling not quite certain, however, he put in seven teen eggs, thinking he would surely get a dozen that were right. Five or six weeks afterward the neighbor stoppeO as he was riding past, and on being asked how the eggs came out, expressed himself as not very well pleased—said he thought they must be from rather poor stock. On being ques tioned he said he got but nine chickens and that they had begun to die oft by the time they were a week old, and he had but four left now. Being asked if the hen had attended them faith fully, the man said she was a hen he borrowed from a neighbor, and he thought the weather was so warm the chicks didn’t need her, and he returned 'cjt Cough Syrup. Tastes Good. Use [ rn time. Fold bv druggists.