And Every I Catarrhal I Ailment The Family I Standby for I Over Fifty I Years Tablets or I Liquid Sold } Everywhere 1 *g_--—.. "L-i.’gg Angela No Longer Working ( Tn doin' de bos' you kin, de snyin* la dat de angola could do no mo’; but tie angels knocked off fum work long an’ long ago.—Atlanta Constitution. Sure Relief ffFORlNDK5ESTIONf »o» n INDIGESTIONS _nXm-Jr Bc^ans j got water p . Sure Refief Ljlt>|- r" rated a case may be—rub on Joint Ease and relief Is sure to follow. Joint-Ease Is for joint trouble only and Is a dean penetrating preparation that druggist* everywhere are recom mending. Always remember, when Joint-Ease j gets in Joint agony gets out—Quick. ' ■'mruMTirmnu i raiiruurmmu”!] u«iiu?mgiiiJgiuiwmjE BREEME HOUSE I By Katherine Newlin Burt l Sir Geoffrey smiled at her. “Like everyone else, now that your anxiety has been lifted you’re going to be cross. But you must try not to show your ill-humor to Alec.” She stopped in the entrance doorway. “What do you mean?” she asked. “My ear is at the door,” said he, “and it is going to take you to my house. And there—” Aline shrank back a little, with a frightened air. lie put an arm over her shoulder and gave her a little shako. “Come, Aline, I shall be with you.” She yielded to him and step ped into hte car. But at. his house she had another panic. “Geoffrey,” she asked him breathlessly, before they reach ed Alec’s door, “Geoffrey—docs tic know I’m coming?” Sir Geoffrey, walking beside her, bis hands locked behind aim, his glass firm in bis eye, tnswered slowely, not looking at her: “I haven’t told you, Aline, that before he regained con sciousness Alec asked for you in cessantly. Since he has been him self”—Sir Geoffrey paused— “though he has not spoken of you, I have felt—. Last night when I was alone with him he got out in his off-hand way, you know, ‘I say, Sir Geoffrey, any reason why Aline shouldn’t come in for a moment, eh?’ ” Aline didn’t look at Sir Geof frey while he spoke, nor did he look at her. They were silent until Alec’s door was reached. Then, her eyes on the knob, “You’ll come in too, won’t you, Geoffrey?” Aline besought him, and Sir Geoffrey gravely came. To the surprise of Aline, who expected him to he upon his back, Alec was sitting up in a deep armchair of faded chintz, his bandaged head resting against the back, his long hands along the arms. Aline was re minded vividly of Lord Breemc though his face bore a far more visible mark of suffering. He turned his eyes to Aline and held out his hand. “How are you, Alec?” were the only words that came to her. She was answered, by his charac teristic grin. “All here,” said he, rather more jerkily than usual. “More than all here, as my head, I’m «ure, is twice its natural size. Feel* that way. Won’t you sit down?’.’ Aline sat. Sir Geoffrey moved away the full length of the room and whistled softly near a win dow. Alec looked wretchedly em barrassed. There wore lines about his mouth, and his narrow eyes avoided his visitor. Aline had perforce to talk. She told him all the news of Brcune House that could po^s'ldy he wr i ’ r from its past uneventful, anxious week. She reported the foolish, quaint sayings of Vi and Hum phrey. She spoke of the copyist, Bnd how he had announced his depA-ture tomorrow for a few days with the copy and his re turn for some finishing touches. “What copyist?” asked Alee.. Mr. Cardoni, you know.” “Cardoni! Cardoni! Oh, yes, the fellow Claire spoke to me about. Hasn’t lie finished yet!” “Well, Alec, lie’s been remark, ably quick.” They stuck to Cardoni and his work till suddenly,- in the midst of a speech, Alec stopped short. Aline looked round in surprise to see that Sir Geoffrey had left room. bi } stood up. why did he go out!” she said quickly. Alec put out an uncertain hand to her. “Because he knows I must s.'e you alone—Aline, I must.” She Baw the flush rise in his face and, anxious for him, yield ed. “Yes. Alec, I’ll stay.” “That’s good.” The hand, uncertain as it was still held itself out to her, and Aline took it, standing beside biin and trying to check the swift, warm current of delight that leapt from his fingers to hers. “The man you are going to niarry,” said Alee, looking up at her from under his bandage 14 with eyes mysteriously changed in expression, “is a splendid fel low, Aline. Long before your wedding-day he is going to be the one man in the world for you. Please don’t be angry with me, dear.” “Somehow,” Aline murmured, “I’m not. I wish I could be.” “No. You’re not angry, be cause you know it’s what’s be hind speeches that gives ’em sting, and there’s nothing behind mine to-day that could hurt a mouse. Please stand where I can look at you, Aline. Can’t turn my confounded head. Silently she changed her position. “A smashed hea doesn’t usually make a fellow think, does it? I fancy I’m different from most people. My head needed a good crack to clear it. Jt aches like thunder, but it’s as clear as glass. 1 say, Aline, you know I’ve asked Claire Wil ton to be my wife?” Her hand jerked in his, but he kept it, passing his own free one across his eyes. “Can’t remember just how I put it, but I did tell her I wanted her to be the Lady of Breeme House. She didn’t give rae my answer because—now, let me think—” He frowned. “Oh, yes, Tremont and Jane galloped by us and gave us such a start that we couldn’t decently get round to the topic again.” “Why do you tell me?” Aline asked, all the ironical patience of her eyes bent upon him. “Well—you don’t keep se crets from me, do you?” She winced a little, so that he felt it in her fingers. lie was silent. Aline, staring at him in suspense, could make nothing of his still, pale, narrow face, with its sombre mouth and lowered eyes. His hand held he*a fast. Suddenly lie caught the band up, pressed it to his fore head, then to his lips, and the first tears she had ever seen from him stood big in the eyes with which he glanced up and down again, ashamed and dogged in his pain. Without preface, “I love you,” he said; “I love you. You know I love you,” under his breath, and rapidly over and over again. She slipped to her knees, gent ly drawing her hand from his. “No, Alec, no. You mustn’t say it.” “Yes, I must—I will. Just this once. You darling. It’s so good to tell you. It’s all right, too. I’ve Sir Geoffrey’s permission. Thought that would make you look up. Oh, Aline, what eyes you have! There were never any eyes like them in all the world. I’ve been seeing them every second for these last days and nights. You did love me a little, didn’t you, darling girl? She kept her eyes upon him, but said nothing. ‘‘What ;i plucky thing von are! Aline, I’m sorry I’ve been a cad. I apologise. I ought to be caned for the way I’ve acted to you. It didn’t take Sir Geoffrey to make me see that, thank Heaven! No excuse, though—just makes it worse.” Again lie was still, she looking at him, silently. 1 m not a free man. yow know, Aline. I’m just part of the House of Breemc. I’ve pot to look out for it. It’s*what we all do—all of us that are worth our salt. I suppose it means some-' thing—has some value. I don’t know. I’ve got to please father and save our fortunes, and make up for the mischief I’ve been doing—deuce take me. There’s Humphrey, you know, and Jane and Vi.- And I like Claire "Wil ton. I admire her even when she terrifies me. She does, you know! I never admitted it before. She likes my title and my house, and the Van Dyke, eh? That is the way of it, you see. It may not be romance, but it’s true common sense. It was that, or the only al ternative—selling the Van Dyke. That American' cousin of mine offers to buy it. But I can’t!” She nodded. Her quivering mouth and throat would not let her speak. “I wanted to tell you all about it,” he began again, not quite so clearly and looking away from her with,drawn lips. "It’s the only amends I can make you. I think I’ve courage ► ■ ■ enough to play out part. It’s not—happiness, but, I think, it’s duty. If it weren’t for father I’d rathpr go off to the colonies and try to make money. But— but there’s the dear old chap looking at me and hoping big things. And there are others!” Another pause. Those tears of Alec’s had forced their burning, painful way to his cheeks. “I’ve about done with any life that I can call my own, I think,” he ended dully. . Aline stood up and moved away and came back. “It’s the same for both of us. dear old boy,” she said quickly. “We’ll have to be brave for our selves and each other. We’ll get something out of it, shan’t we? This minute, for instance, and— and—our friendship for all our lives. And the happiness of other people. I’m so grateful to you for telling me. I’m so much happier. I’m terribly happy, Alec.” “Are you?” ( lie looked up with weary won der. She remembered that he was hurt. “I’m going now. Yes I must,” for his hand had gripped her desperately. “You’ll be worn out. Thank you a million times. And—and God bless you, dear.” His head and eyes compelled her. . She bent and kissed his forehead. Then, she left him. Sir Geoffrey came to her a few minutes later and took her home. He talked much more than usual on the way, going over iiif political theories at considerable dryness. He was never a brilliant talker, but this after noon he was profoundly dull. He did not ask one single quest ion, however, nor demand so much as an “I understand,” or a Qute so.” iiuiie surrendered nerseir thankfully to her own thoughts, which were very pathetically noble and full of a strange, sub dued joy. She did not hear Sir Geoffrey’s good-bye nor her own. CHAPTER XIV SIR GEOFFREY’S MOVE As soon as Alec was pronounc ed entirely, out of danger, Lady Jane returned, like an anxious humming-bird, to her flowers. There was cause for delight and for dismay: some late buds had come out, the cat had not nibbled at others, an unexpected beauti ful thing had flowered. But in the wild-flower bed there was sad havoc. A wobbly calf, escaped from the farm boy, had trampled across her ferns. Jane set to work, grave and tender of ex pression, with her long, supple hands to prop and tuck in and repair, clipping away, with small breaths of regret, what must be clipped away. She looked up at a sound to see Rufus Tremont standing be fore her, the width of the fern bed apart. She , started. “You are back from London?” He whimsically shook his head. Jane blushed and put back her hair, leaving a streak of mud across the blush. “That wasn’t a silly question”,, she defended herself. “It was an’ exclamation. Have you been to the house? Have you seen papa? lie was asking about you; he is impatient to go on with the book.’ “Yes’m.” Tremont used this Westernism with an enjoyment of its flavour. “I’ve seen your father. Also, I went to Brooke’s place, and saw Lord Tremont. lie gave me—” Here Rufus settled on the stone wall and, smiling ruefully to himself, con templated his boots. “He gave me a cool reception. He had not forgotten a little tiff we had • just before his tumble.” Jane looked pleased. Her side long look -and smile were of gleaming triumph. Rufus flushed* “Have you"ever heard a saw about laughing last and best?” said he. An ! J ane retorted cruelly, “that’s just what I’m doing laughing best and last. It was you who laughed first”. And she sang lightly and shyly: “Madam, will you walk! Mad am, will you talk! Madam, will you walk and talk with me!” lie looked at her hard, his lips tight, his color high. “No”, said Jane, tucking in a fern with her two forefingers and thumb, “no; you will never carry Lady Jane away from England ’ ’. “That would be bad medi cine”, drawled he. “Not to car ry Lady Jane'away with me from England—bitter bad medicine!” Jane kept at her work. “What makes you so confident | this vtiyz&pg, Lady Jauef” She slipped her slim we Sght back on her heels, letting her hands lie, palm to palm, lightly between her knees. “I wish I could tell you; but it’s a secret. I think, however, that we are delivered, with our Van Dyke, safe out of your hands”. He was grim enough at that; got out his pipe quickly with the air, Jane was pathetically re minded, of a hurt child snatch ing for comfort at a favorite toy, and blinked downward through the smoke. He wras thinking very closely, with knit brows. “Yes, the American girl, ofk course”, he said at last, and gave Jane a swift glance."* After it he looked illuminated. “So that’s it, is it? They are engaged!” The tone of voice said “They have bartered themselves.” Then he seemed to crumple up into a tight bundle of hard thought, held together by knit hands. Jane saw the youth fade away from him—brow, lips, and eyes. There were harsh and ruth less lines in his face. He let his pipe go out, and stared through Jane. Presently, without any change of attitude or look, he began to speak. “You haven’t been fair to me”, said he. “You haven’t tried to understand. You haven’t the vaguest notion of what it means, of what I’m trying to do. I asked you to give me half an hour, but you wouldn’t. I was mighty hap py with you that first evening I felt as if I were walking mighty close to the gates of Para dise, when, at a word, out floated a flaming sword. You’ve been waving it about you ever since.” Jane watched, with no smile now, and was still. “Let me tell you that has hurt It was the first time I’ve ever offered my confidence to a wo man. I was playing almighty fair, too. I needn’t have told you what I was after. ^ “I wish you hadn’t”,, said Jane. “You don’t trust me any further than you can see me. But don’t feel too safe, Lady Jane. A general has always more than one plan of attack. Ah! there goes the flaming sword again. You don’t love to be threatened, do you—not a little bit?” The question, if its tone had been different by a shade, would have been almost insolent. But there was that in it—a throb bing, yearning something. Jane’s head kept its deer-like pose, but her eyes fell. ~(TO BE CONTINUED ) Practical Woman Fred C. Kelly In Collier’s I often wonder If the average wo man wouldn't be far more capable In business than her husband. A woman Is more practical In a thou sand ways than a man. In fact, man Is at his best as a dreamer. The greatest poets are men. On the other hand, some of the greatest rulers have been women; for example, Queen Elizabeth, Catherine of Rus sia, Queen Victoria. Whenever a man comes home talk ing big about things he is planring to do. his wife is the one to ask some' annoyingly practical question. How much will it cost? Is there enough money in the bank? If a man picks up a bargain In a piece of goods for a suit or a dress, his wife immediately asks what width it Is, and then sets to work with a tapeline or yardstick. As likely as not she finds that the goods is a lit tle short of being enough—which ex plains why he got it at a supposed bargain. Woman Is a more capable shopper than man. Usually, too, she’s a bet ter salesman. Not one man in fifty can get as much from an old-ciothes man for a discarded suit as his wife can. When a husband brings somebody unexpectedly home to dinner, he thinks In Impractical general terms that there will somehow be enough for all. But the wife has to think In definite, specific terms. It Is the wife who carefully scans the grocery bills. In short. If more women were con sulted about what goes on In offices, there might be less time wasted dur ing business hours. So much business seems to be car ried on clumsily that it Is small won aer men try to Doister up tneir sen respect by talking big at home about what goes on at the office. Too often the attitude of a man toward his wife about business Is: “You wouldn't understand It even If I tried to ex plain it to you." He tries to give the Impression that business Is a difficult thing, to be grasped only by a male person of rare Intelligence. This Is on the same principle that the cornet player in a country band al ways puckers his face more than he j needs—Just to make his job look more difficult than It Is. Unbeatable. 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