AW HALF §IST~I> AAA By ELTOIN HARRIS AAA CHAPTER 111.—(Continued.) "He Is considered very handsome," Joyce called mischievously after Reg gie's retreating figure; but whether he heard her was doubtful, and her own frank, plain face looked very grave, as she picked up her wools. ' Madame is a clever woman,” she ar gued to herself. “Henri Is under her thumb—that Is, ho always seems to lie afraid of her; and Mollie Is Inex perienced and Impetuous. It Is little more than a fortnight since she re turned. Can Itejglo mind already— Reggie, who does not care for girls?" Hut personal experience, in connec tion with the naval lieutenant to whom she was engaged, called loudly that a fortnight might make or mar a iifo, and she could not disguise from herself that Reggie had shown more Interest In beautiful Mollie I/Estrange than he had ever exhibited for any woman—save his mother and herself — before. A fresh, matter-of-fact girl, of three and-twenty, Joyce, though fond of Mollie, was Inclined to look upon her as a child, and did not give her credit for half the sense and observation she poss* BSfd. For Mollie had learned a great deal in that past fortninght, though Reg gie had not always been her teacher. She knew that the good oountiy people round, who Lad been her parents’ friends, while wishful to be pleasant to herself, looked askance at Madame liubols, whose gieat object in life was to get into the charmed circle of their acquaintance. With this end she would drag the reluctant girl to any social gathering where she might meet them, and endeavor to force herself upon them until poor Mollie was bit terly ashamed of her; while her Rmotherod exultation when Mrs. An ^ etrutlier did violence to her feelings by a stiff call showed Mollie more than words would have done how the resi dents of Chulfont House were regard ed in Reverton. Kate was a great trial to her sister; she was delicate, nervous and excit able to a degree; and, as her aunt never checked her, she was almost un bearable. All Moilir-’g efforts at friend ship she regarded with suspicion, as made to the helrees of Chalfont, and she Hew into a rage if her sister tried to reason with her, or attempted to take the part of the unfortunate dally governess who for a couple of hours each morning endeavored to teach her. Mollie was very forbearing with her, trying never to forget that she was the baby whom she had seen in her mother's arms. But she was firm also, declining to be driven about, or stand any rudeness; and Kate, finding her tempers disregarded, her imperi ous nirH laughed at, began to treat her sister with sullen respect. Mollle was thinking of Kate after lteggie had left her at the gate, and she walked briskly up the graveled path, swinging her empty basket. She had promised some flowers for the church on Sunday, and wanted them also for wreaths for her parents' graves. Should she take them boldly from Chaifont, and incur her sister’s wrath, or should she order them else where? It seemed a shame that her mother’s wreath should not be from the place she loved so well; and yet she could not hear that anything for her should be wrangled over. There used to be a great clump of narcls*d growing almost wild in a shady corner beside some laurels at the far aide of the house. If Mr. Har lowe’s vandal hand hail spared them, she might surely have some from there; and, Intent on flnding out, she never paused until she suddenly fonnd herself nearly opposite the window of that fatal study where her stepfather had met bis death by an unknown band nearly twelve months previously. Since her return she had carefully avoided this spot; It had a nameless terror, yet fnselnatlou for her Mrs llariowe’s name was rarely mentioned In the house; no servuut wouti go past the study door alone after dark. It was not only madam*'* hard and mean rule that caused rarely a week to puis without sum* of them leaving they frightened each other; tales of thing< seen and heard were rife among them, and It must be owned that Multi* w.u not proof against the general whisper Ing, the unspoken fear, that seemed to bang over the place, especially after dark. Hh# was half Inclined to turn hack now. even though the sun was shining and a whole colony of rooks cwwing noisily In the tall trees further on ft und this very path the assassin miiai hare stolen that bitter March night after Ike had done the de#«l leaving *ke 1 Wlkk the window I*s open |*y Voices fytl upon her ear* So one ever vn t«r*d that fO’tm hut Matin.'1 ■» tti ' igh it waa unlocked Who could It be? Taking an Iwpetuo a step forward her eyes felt sa madam*1 herself it and tag erect with #'.# hand m the table her face haggard and whne he* this lips drawn away from Mr i|r«s| white •estb. War dark »»>* gl**a»lag unler their heavy brows with a strange wild gleam; while her voice,harsh and high, came clearly towards Mollle. ‘‘Are there no other apartments In the house but that you must come hero —here—here?” she screamed. "Why do you torture me liko this? Have I not enough to bear for you? Ah, me! How many mothers would have done as much?" "Calm yourself, mother,” cried a thin, reedy voice. "I had merely a fancy to view tho chamber where my so tender-hearted relative shuffled off this mortal coll last Easter Sunday. Where is the harm?” “No, no, my beloved!" she answered, In a gasping voice, evidently struggling hard to recover her self-command; “hut coming In suddenly and seeing a man—so near the time-” And she clasped her hands as a visible tremor shook her from head to foot. “Every one was out; I wanted amus ing,” he said. "How dusty the place is. Why not use the room?” "Impossible!" panted she. “How can you expect It, Henri—you, who saw -1 have It cleaned sometimes, but no one will do It alone, nor will they come near it until after Sunday.” “My uncle seems as much loved In deart as in life.” And there was a fine sneer in the young man’s voice. “Now, why did you send for me In such a hurry, mother? 1 was having a good time in Paris—music, pretty girls! — and then you insist that I must return to this dull hole. 'Tis absolutely cruel!” “You have no thought for your own Interests. You are Incorrigible!” she cried angrily. ”1 told you the reason plainly enough; and you spend so much money, the sooner you fall In with my Intentions the better for you; then your future Is assured." “So you have dragged me away from a thousand engagements and pleasures Just for this!” Mollle heard him ex plain grumbllngly. "What Is she?” “Oh, Henri, my adored!” eried Ma dame Dubois, her voice vibrating with intense feeling, her eyes fixed with deep, passionate love on the other un seen occupant of the room; "I feel that at this time I must have you with me— that I must see you—to feel that my sacrifices have not been In vain that through them you are prosperous. Is It nothing to you to be with you* mother?” What rpply the son made Mollle did not hear, for, recovering frem her as tonishment, slie stole quietly away, thankful that madume’s keen glance had not fallen upon her. That Mon sieur Henri Dubois had arrived before he was expected—that he had coino, not because he loved his home and wished to make her acquaintance, as madatne had repeatedly declared, but because she had sent him an impera tive summons—was clear; but why had she done so? Nor could Mollle, having seen the mother's hard face, softened aud beautiful with feeling, doubt that this Invisible son, with tho thin, sneering voice, was tho passion of her life, the being for whom she would go through fire and water. CHAPTER IV. It was with conflicting feelings that Mollie brushed out her sunny hair be fore luncheon, staring absently the while into the glass with a perplexed frown. They were strange people, those Du bois, and she uneasily felt that she could not fathom them. Henri's cynical tone she considered unfeeling, for l.conard Barlowe had been his uncle after all; while madams never showed the least respect for her dead brother, though any allusion to him would visibly upset her self-con trol. And Mollie shrewdly guessed that the extravagant affection she heaped on Kate was but on the surface. Evidently mudame had sent for her son. and there was a "she” in the case —did they mean Kate? Already Mollie had not a very high Idea of their probity, and wondered how much power they had over the child a fortune. But she did not think of herself at the moment, except to be glad that she was no relation of theirs. And then h« r thoughts drifted off to Reggie, and there was a smile on her face as she flung open the door, nearly running over Kate, who was advancing conse quentially down the corridor, a huge box of distinctly Pariatau bonbon* la her arms. * t shall not give you one itecau«e you would not take me to get moss,” she said, with solemn spllefulneaa. as she displayed them "You should have gone with |d*a* ure had you asked nicely,** returned Mollie, unruffled "Hut I will not tshs you anywhere when you are unpleas sal.** And before the trade aistiru of the boo** could Ini anything bill f enough for her p-tor little luaie* t» utter, the elder girt hsd passed her. and de». ending the stair*, entered th* dining room where Madame IHia'Ii s i her sun n*r» »l«n > »s by tt.e Are There they stood, the-e aliens an I 1 *t rang ere, giving themselves all the airs of proprietorpl* The •ItoHikkun ekkk fmaslos him la kut d a I story? lit th- > Jwmg, walk apntsira, lass the els vatur, or at* thgy vnrrled ug en pm pie » elvihiug * WHEN THE CIRCUIT RIDER CAME In the backwoods of Ohio. In the days of long ago. When religion was religion, not a dressy fashion show. When the spirit of the Master fell as flumes of living fire. And the people did the singing, not a trained artistic eholr. There was scarcely seen a ripple In life's gently flowing tide. No events to draw the people from their dally loll aside. Naught to set the pious spirit of the pion eers aflame Save upon file rare occasions when the circuit rider came. He was usually mounted on the sorriest of nags, All his outfit for the Journsy parked In leather saddle bags. And he’d travel with the Hilda or the hymn hook In his hand Heading sacred word or singing of the happy Promised Hand, How the tolling wives would glory In the dinners they would spread. And how many a hapless chicken or a turkey lost Its head By the gleaming chopper wielded by the hand of sturdy dame, For it wasn't very often that the circuit rider came. AR tXe settlement around us would La i tinging with the news That there'll he a meetln’ Sunday, and we'd "taller" up our shoes. And we'd brush our homespun dress suits, pride of every country youth. And we'd grease our hair w ith marrow till It shone like golden truth. And the frocks of linsey-woolsey would be donned by all the girls. And with heated old lire pokers they would make their corkscrew curls; They were scarcely queens of fashion, but were lovely just the same. And they always looked their sweetest when Ihe circuit rider came. As a preacher, holy Moses! bow he'd swing the living word. How he'd draw the pious "bretherln' " yet closer to the Lord, And he'd raise the hair of sinners Bitting on the backmost seat With his fiery, lurid pictures of the ever lasting heal! We have sat In grand cathedrals, tri umphs of the builder's skill, And In great palatial churches iieath the organ’s mellow thrill. Hut they never roused within us such a reverential flMiic As would burn In that old schoolhouse when the circuit rider came. —James llarton Adam* In Denver Post. A TAlf Of MISS MARGARET j "The young forget their fancies, the old forget their '•ares. When pretty Mistress Marget comes smiling down the stairs.” Nobody who once looked upon Mis tress Marget—pretty Mistress Marget almost everybody called her—could help loving her. I, Thomas Dawtry, a plain and simple squire of the realm, loved her better than all the world. But pretty Mistress Marget was not for me, or so, at least, her father had Informed me. As for me, I had long since decided to abide by this decision only so long as circumstances com pelled me. Whenever fate offered me the shadow of an opportunity 1 meant to steal Mistress Margst and run away with her. Mistress Marget, as I had every reason- save spoken words—to believe, would ba by no means unwil ling. The opportunity came when my sweet lady’s father was called away to tight for tils king and country, King Charles and Bonnie England. I, who longed to fight for king aud country also, dared the laughter and the Jeers of my comrades to stay behind a little and sttal my lovely lady, if it so pleased fate. And no sooner had her father ridden away, at the head of his men. then I made for the hall and sought out old Simeon, the gardener. .Sir Reginald had never forbidden my visits—he was too wise a man to tempt fate in such a manner; he had merely taken care that I had no chance of solitary speech with my dear lady. I knew now that the 1-ad.y Eleanor niewett, who filled, as best she might, tlie place of the dead lady of the man or to her daughter. Mistress Marget, favored not my suit, so I sought not to have speech with her or with my lady. Old Simeon I had been friends with ever since, as a child, I had played in the gardens with sweet Mis tress Marget. I knew he was my friend and would help me. J knew also that he might spook with his lady when 1 might not unwatched and un guarded. To old Simeon I told my story, nnd trusted him for his aid. And there wag the chink of gold between us when we parted, albeit my lack of gold was the reason why Sir Reginald had said me nay, upon my asking for his daughter's hand. And for gold—next to hts love for pretty Mistress Marget—obi Simeon would do more than most of us would do for the sake of life. That evening I happened to he walking in the lane Just us old Simeon also came out to take the air And a note passed between i s. Old Simeon | also instructed me as to where I could 1 find certain Implements and tools x ladder nnd a stout stave among them , - which I might need later on, par- ( chance. And I gave to Simeon the package of a certain drug, which my | friend, the rhlruget n, had gtv«n me Mlstrass Maiget was to s.« that this j drug was dropped Into tha flagon ot , #la sent up for th* taidy Eleanor's i s ipper Then, later, *h»> was to lean out of her easement and signal to me • ailing outside ip tha tan* And lat er still I'ttew liibney, who loved us both and sympathised • th ns rather than with Sir Reginald was to make pretty Mistress vi.tr* i mr wife And so it git happened, without l«t or hindrance, save wh«tt mv body ist vant's horse was Mired |n the slough heck uf the Its* It# «h iwld have • ailed In the tan# prop#?, bot h# *tioughi he he ltd r,i|# r* end soon hr •f h .. sea hoof* cumin# sad. knowing ' that he must no* he too ,1 iter* k# leaped his own steel «#»«* the h->>* and tots the atatigfc, We had to wstt < soiihj minutes for him, when we would fain have hurried onward. But this was after 1 had placed the ladder underneath my lady’s window, mount ed It, piled off the guarding Imrs with the stout stave which old Simeon had furnished me, and received my darling In my arms. My heart heat so in go ing down tlie ladder that 1 feared she would hear It and think me timid. Yet had i courage to claim a kiss as we neared the bottom, insisting that she pay it me before I set her down; and 1 do not think she noticed the iapid heating of my heart after that, even had she notlcod It before. Her own heart beat rapidly then, as the bright color coming and going In the face which looked so fair and sweet in the moonlight testified clearly. At the foot of the ladder I set her down, and hand in hand we raced across the greensward, over the foot bridge old Simeon had managed to leave open and unguarded for us, and out Into the lane. There, lifting her dear form In my arms, 1 swung her up before me, and away we galloped, after the short Interval of waiting for my servant, of which 1 have spoken.. Half an hour later we stood before Parson Dabney in the gray old vicar age, and a few moments afterward I had the right to call pretty Mistress Marget my wife. Then, a hurried kiss, a tear or two on Mistress Marget’s part, and we were on our way back to the hall, where Mistress Marget was to live on, the same as ever in all things save that slender gold band on her finger, until my return from the wars. And then—ah! sad for a man to leave his wife on the wedding eve —my body servant had summoned my varlets and they waited for me out side in the lane. I could but kiss my darling once more, ah me! hut so ten derly and lovingly, see her safely up the ladder, withdraw it from beneath her window, wave her a last tender farewell—and now, beshrew me! but mine own eyes were wet— and take my departure. But before I crossed the foot-bridge once more I threw the stout stave that had served our turn so well far from me Into the thick of the hedge, and I once more clinked gold with old Simeon In order that he might be properly forgetful of nil that had happened that night. Then the soft darkness of the lane, with the moon well under a kindly cloud, a sharp command to the waiting varlets. a tearing gallop until morning, and we were well up with Sir Reginald and his men. and nothing but wars and fighting before us for many long months. But my heart was brave and light some within me, even though I had left my dear wife of an hour behind mo. For it is easier, perhaps, to leave one’s wife than one's sweetheart, espe cially when the sweetheart's father favors a richer man, and I knew, also, that 1 was a brave and skillful fight er, and I hoped that before Sir Regi nald or 1 saw pretty Mistress Marget again his heart would have warmed toward me un Ibis account. For Sir Reginald loves a brave man and a good fighter always. And in the end It all turned out even us 1 had hoped. — Chicago Tribune. On th* Writing «*f I'nninlf. IkuKi'lriult, quite nt the beginning of his career (and he wrote plays al most ua a laxly l. used to get JC:ioO for u live-act comedy, lie stated the fact on oath In a court of justlc*, and the sum was considered no im mense ih.it the counsel who was exam ining him exclaimed: “l)o you mean tu tell me. sir, that If I were to write a comedy fur the llaymarket theater the manager would give me £306 for |t*‘* “I think It must Improbable,** re plied Ikiucf icault from “IViwonal lierolleetlona, ' hy Sutherland Ed wards. t «peels tr..«s» I hum »•*«•» Exports trow the * atii i Slat** dur ing the past As al year iu< reaaed tu • 1*1» section of the globe. N»«t lu European exports, the Isrgeut laertuss was la rtputu to other ports of North Amsibm lw Went tu# 1'ieMkSk There Is a i word (a th# t‘Masse language that convey# aa tut mallow «f What w« t im public wyiilui, pit 14 there a synonym fw ysiiMisn. AMONOJHE BANKS. rhrfe Chlra^o Concerns Consol Idatk— New York tiets New One. The directors of the Continental Na tional bank of Chicago have voted unanimously in favor of increasing the capital stock of $1,000,000, making It $3,000,000, Three of Chicago’* oldest and largest banking Institutions are to be consolidated. The Corn Exchange National, the American National and the Northwestern National are to pool Issues and reorganize under the char ter of the Corn Exchange, retaining Its title. President Ernest A. Hamill, of the Corn Exchange bank, wil' be pres ident of the consolidated corporation. The new Corn Exchange National hank will have a capital stock of $2,000,000. a surplus of $1,000,000 and undivided profits of ir.00,000. The Federal Na tional hank of New York city Is the proposed title of an Institution for which the application has been approv ed by Acting Comptroller Kane. The proposed capital is $500,000, and the responsible applicant who has con ducted the correspondence is Joseph T. Hall, the real estate man at 35 Nas sau street. The other four incorpora tors required by law are Walter D. Johnson, broker; Charles A. O’Dono huo, merchant; Percy B. O'Sullivan, and Jiu-von C. Moore, It Is announced that the United States treasury's third call for $5,000,000 from government de positories will be the last. The remain ing $10,000,000 needed for the retire ment of the $25,000,000 old 2 per cent bonds, it is stated, will he made up from the growing treasury surplus. The three calls have been prorated among the banks all over the coun try having government deposits, and the eight depositaries In Philadelphia, after responding to the last call, which was payable July 16. contributed something like $750,000 in nil. BEAUTIFUL FEET RARE. ••re»eut-l>i»jr Footwear IliUorti the Ex tremities Abominably. A man who denies that he is pre judiced, but claims that he Is a good judge of feminine beauty, declares that there Is scarcely a beautiful foot to he found among the women of to day. The high heels, the exaggerated curve at the hall of the foot, the still heel stays and the pointed toes, he de clares, have distorted the foot in a painful and ugly manner. The ankles are misshapen. In some rases the bones are enlarged until they bulge out so that every bone is perceptible. The weight of the body thrown upon the toes has caused them to spread out. Crowded into pointed toes, they stick up in clusters of knotty corns. The foot should be as shapely as the hand. Footwear should fit as a glove 11 ts the hand. The perfect foot is slender, with an arched instep and toes that lie smoothly and easily. The first step toward acquiring a pretty foot is to wear shoes that fit It comfortably. The next is to take exercises that will render the toes strong and supple. Be gin by spreading out the toes to the utmost extent; then hold four toes still and attempt to move the remaining one. Every toe should be straighter and shorter than the next one and the arch should he shapely and pliant. Tho feminine foot of today renders a grace ful carriage an Impossibility. And nil because Dame Fashion has decreed that a short, high-heeled, polnted-too shoe Is the correct thing in dressy footgear, forgetting that there never was a human foot built that way. Ihira Electricity Kill Tr«u? New Haven (Conn.) Special to Phil adelphia Inquirer: Indignant citizens who desire to save the noble elms that are the pride of New Haven have threatened to bring suit against the trolley car companies of the city for alleged damages to the trees. The as sertion is made that the trolley wires charged with electricity are in some streets held In place by connecting wires fastened to the trees, and that charges of electric fluid are sent into the trees, which are thus killed. The trolley companies have sought to stave off damage suits by an offer to test the scientific correctness of these as sertions. Permission has been obtained from the department of public works and police supervision ussured for the Interesting experiment within the week of charging the big tree in front of City Hall with the full voltage of the trolley system. If the tree dies a score of suits will be filed by prop erty owners, who have been compelled to cut down trees, some of them 150 years old,since the trolley ran through the uveuues. Hoy * Spartan Courage. Altoona (Pa i correspondence Phila delphia Record: Fifteen-year-old Wil liam Van Allman, while picking ber ries west of the city, was nipped by a rattlesnake, which he failed to observe under a buuh. The fangs of tho rep tile caught one of the boy's fingers a«nr the end. First killing the snake, the lad drew Ms |*>rketknlfe, and, with Spartan courage, rut off the Injured finger st the second Joint. He bound the wound with k.W handkert htef sud hastened to Altoona, where the Injury was dressed. The physician* say he is In no danger. virthauUm of Ike Cart* l**ople marvel st the met haul uferrvHi him by one of the |«a |\g Austrian uatversitiea.