jAf “g}# * gV xV xV xV xV A »♦/ ^V xt# »♦* >♦* tV %V •»♦# xv m Wfj«;; ■ .;• -:* -" '«;.' v;c -.;? •„;.* *,;.**,;.**,;,* *,;.* ;*;♦ -,;.**.;.* %*? *,;*-.;? | Mildred ^ # | | ^ (ore'Vantcn I 4' D Y T H E D V C H E S S . V/ 4i'1' ^ »♦» v# »♦» »♦* *♦» *♦# »♦» »♦# »♦« »v »v »♦« V '♦* '♦» '♦* '♦» ^»* *♦**• ^4» #4% '♦* #♦» ^4^ '4» '4» ^4» /,* *4* CHAPTER II. The eventful Friday at length ar rived, and with it the unwelcome Younges. They came by the late train, which enabled them to reach King's Abbott just one hour before the dinner hell rang, and so gave them sufficient time to dress. Sir George met them warmly, feeling some old, lmlf-forgot ten sensations cropping up within his heart as he grasped between ills own hands the hard, brown one of his ci devant school friend. The old man he now met, however, was widely dif ferent from the fair-haired boy and light active youth he could just barely remember both at Eton and Oxford. Indeed, Mr. Younge, oddly enough, did strangely resemble the fanciful picture drawn of him by Miss Trevanion. be ing fat. “pursy,” jolly, and altogether decidedly after the style of the farm ing gentry. But, however right almut him, Miss Trevanion's prognostications with re gard to the others were entirely wrong. Mrs. Younge, far from being fat, red and cookish, was remarkably slight, fragile, and very lady-like in appear ance. Her daughter, Miss Rachel, re sembled her mother strongly, though lacking her gentle expression and the quiet air of self-possession that sat so pleasantly on her. But in her description of Denzil Miss Trevanion had been very much at fault indeed. Any one more unlike a “boor” could not be well imagined. Denzil Younge was a very handsome young man. Tall, fair and distin guished looking, witli just the faintest resemblance to his mother, he might have taken his place with honor in any society in Christendom. He wore neither beard nor whiskers, simply a heavy, golden mustache, which cov ered, but scarcely concealed, the almost feminine sweetness of his mouth Miss Trevanion, having made up her mind that there would be plenty of time just before dinner to get through the introductions, stayed in her own room until exactly five minutes to seven o’clock, the usual hour for din ing at King’s Abbott, when she swept downstairs and into the drawing room in her beautiful, graceful fashion, clad In pure white from head to foot, with the exception of a single scarlet rose, fresh from the conservatory, in the middle of her golden hair. And cer tainly Mildred looked as exquisite a creature that evening, as she walked up the long drawing room to where her father was standing, as any one could wish to see. "This is my eldest daughter—unmar ried,” said Sir George, evidently with great pride, taking the girl’s hand and presenting her to his guest, who had been gazing at her with open, honest admiration ever since her entrance. "Is it indeed?” the old man an swered; and then he met her with both hands extended, and, looking kindly at her, declared out loud, for the bene fit of the assembled company, "She is the bonniest las6 I have seen for many a day.” At this Mabel laughed out loud, mer rily, without even an attempt at the concealment of her amusement, to I^ady Caroline’s intense horror and old Younge’s intense delight. He turned to Mabel instantly. “You like to hoar your sister ad mired?” he said. And Mabel answered: "Yes, always, w'hen the admiration is sincere—as in your case—because I, too, think she is the bonniest lass in all the world.” "Right, right!” cried old Younge, approvingly; and these two became friends on the spot, the girl chatter ing to him pleasantly the greater part of the evening afterward, although the old man's eyes followed Mildred’s rath er haughty movements with more earnest attention than he bestowed upon those of her more light-hearted sister. Miss Trevanion, when Mr. lounge had called her a “bonny lass,” merely flushed a little and flashed a quick glance toward her mother which said plainly, “There, did I not tel! you so —Yorkshire farmer, pure and simple, and all that?” and moved on to be introduced to the other members of the unwelcome family. She could not forget, even for a moment, how in trusive their visit was, and how un pleasant in every sense of the word. She was only three or four years Ma bel’s senior, uut In mind and feeling she might, so to speak, have been her mother. When she remembered how Eddie always required money, and how difficult they found It to send Charles regularly his allowance and still to keep up the old respectable ap pearance in the county, she almost hated the newcomers for the expenses their coming would entail. Miss Trevanion raised her head half an inch higher, and went through her inclinations to the others with a mix ture of grace and extreme hauteur that made her appear even more than com monly lovely, and caused Denzil Younge to lose his place in the lan guid conversation he had been holding with Eddie Trevanion. She had not so much ns deigned to raise her eyes when bowing to him, so he had been fully at liberty to make free use of his own, and he decided, without hesita tion, that nothing in the wide earth could be more exquisite than this girl who he could not fail to see treated them all with open coolness. - He took her In to dinner presently, but not until soup ha4 been removed did Miss Trevanion think it worth her while to look up and discover what style of man sat beside her. Glancing then suddenly and superciliously at him. she found that lie was the very handsomest fellow she had ever seen —well-bred looking, too, unit, in ap pearance at least, just such a one as she had been accustomed to go down to dinner with even in the very best houses. He was staring across the tnbl° now to where Mabel sat, laughing and con versing merrily with old Younge, and seemed slightly amused with the girl's gayety. Was he going to fall in love with Mab? Very likely, she thought, it would be just the very tiling for an aspiring cotton man to do- to go and lose his heart ambitiously to their beautiful “queen." Then Denzll turned to her and said: “You were not in town this season, Miss Trevanion?" “No; mamma did not care to go," she answered, reddening a little at th* pious fib. ‘"I do not think you missed much,” Denzil went on, pleasantly; "it was the slowest tiling imaginable; and the op eras were very poor. You are fond of music, of course? I need hardly ask you that." “I like good music, when I hear it,” Miss Trevanion said; ' but I would rather be deaf to all sweet sounds than to have to listen to the usual run of so-called singers—private singers, I mean.” “One does now and then hear a good private singer, though,” Denzil re turned. "There were several in town last year.” “Lady Constance Dingwall was greatly spoken of,” Mildred said; ”1 have heard her sing several times.” "So have I, and admire her voice im mensely; her pet song this season was Sullivan’s ’Looking Back,’ and it suited her wonderfully. Lots of fellows raved about her, and old Douglas of the Blues was said to have proposed to her on the strength of it. She re fused him, however. Odd man, Doug las; you know him, of course—every body does. He is slightly crazy, I fancy. By the bye, you have not told mo what you think of Lady Constance's singing.” “I would quite as soon listen to a barrel-organ, I think,” Miss Trevan ion answered, ungraciously; “there i3 just as much expression in one as in the other. She has good notes, I grant you, but she does not know in the very least how to use them.” “Poor Lady Constance,” he said; “well, I am not a judgp of music, 1 confess, but for my part I would go any distance to hear her sing. Her brother has managed about that ap pointment—I suppose you know?” "Has he? I am glad of that. No, I have not heard. But what a disa greeable man he is! What a comfort it must be to his friends—or relatives, rather—to get him out of the coun try!” "Is not that a little severe?” asked Denzil. “Poor James has an unfortu nate way of not getting on with peo ple, but I put that down more to the wretchedness or his early training than to his natural disposition, which I be lieve to be good, though warped and injured by his peculiar position when a boy. It was lucky for Lady Constance that the countess adopted her. May I give you some of these?” "No, thank you,” Mildred answered, and then fell to wondering by what right this cotton merchant’s son called Lord James Dingwall by his Christian name—“James.” She again recollect ed that "this sort of person” generally boasted outrageously about any intim acy with the aristocracy. Miss Tre vanion’s "hearings” upon this subject had been numerous and profound. "I think Lord James a very unpleas ant man,” she said, feeling curious to learn how much more Denzil Younge had to say about him. "Most ladies do," her companion an swered, coolly; “but then I do not con sider ladies always the best judges. They form their ideas from the out ward man generally, which in many cases prevents fairness. Unless the person on trial be a lover or a relative, they seldom do him the justice to look within. You think Dingwall very ob noxious because he has red hair and rough manners, and yet I have known him to do acts of kindness which most men would have shrunk from perform ing. In the same way you would con sider a fellow down near us the great est boor you ever met in your life. I dare say, because ho has nothing to recommend him but his innate good ness of heart.” “I dare say,” responded Miss Tre vanion. "But would you not be civil to a man whom you knew to be beyond expression estimable, if only for the sake of his goodness, no matter how rough a diamond he might be?” asked Denzil Younge, feeling somPwhat eager in his argument, and turning slightly, so as more to face his adversary. “Surely you would; any woman—most women would. I fancy. One could not fail to appreciate the man I speak of.” "I might appreciate him at a dis tance,” Miss Trevanion returned, ob stinately, “but I would not be civil to him; and I should think him a boor : just the same, whether he were a black sheep or a white.” "Oh!" exclaimed Denzil, and stared curiously at her beautiful, now rather bored face. Was she really as worthless a* she I declared herself to be'.’ Could those | handsome, cold blue eyes and faultless features never soften into tam'prness ami womanly feeliug? He quite forgot how earnestly he was gazing until Miss Trevanion raised her eyes, and meeting his steady shire, blushed warmly—angrily. He recol lected himself then, and the admiration his look must have conveyed, and col ored almost as deeply as she had. "I beg your pardon,” ho said, quiet ly: "do not think me rude, but I am strangely forgetful at times, and was just then wondering whether you real ly meant all you said." "Do not wonder any longer then,'1 she retorted, still resenting the expres sion of his eyes, ‘Vis I did perfectly mean what 1 said. I detest with all my heart boors and ill-bred people, and parvenus, and want of birth gen erally •' And then Lady Caroline made the usual mysterious sign, and they all rose to leave the room, and Miss Tre vanion became conscious that she had made a cruelly rude speech. She felt rather guilty and disinclined for conversation when she had reached the drawing room; so she sat down and tried to find excuses for her con duct in the remembrance of that last unwarrantable glance he had be stowed upon her. A man should be taught manners if he did not possess them; and the idea of his turning de liberately to stare at her—Mildred Trevanion—publicly, was more than any woman could endure. So she ar gued, endeavoring to persuade her con science—but unsuccessfully—that her uncourteous remark had been justly provoked, and then Mabel came over and sat down beside her. “I liked your man at dinner very much,” she said; “at least what I could see of him.” "He seemed to like you very much, at all events,” Mildred returned; "he watched your retreating figure just now as though he had never before seen a pretty girl or a white-worked grenadine.” ‘Tie is awfully handsome,” went on Mabel, who always indulged in the strongest terms of speech. "He is good-looking.” "More than that; he is as rich a3 Croesus, I am told.” "What a good thing for the young woman who gets him,” Miss Trevanion remarked, and smiled down a yawn very happily indeed. “Look here, Mildred; you may just as well begin by being civil to him,” counseled Mabel, wisely, “because, as he is going to inhabit the same house as yourself for the next six weeks or so, it will be better for you to put up with him quietly. You were look ing all through dinner as though you were bored to death—and, after all, what good can that do?” “I rather think you will have the doing of tho civility,” observed Miss Trevanion, “as he is evidently greatly struck by your numerous charms.” “I shouldn’t mind it in the least, if he can talk plenty of nonsense, and look as he looked at dinner,” Mabel returned. "There is always something so interesting about a superlatively rich man, don’t you think?” “Not when the rich man owns to cotton.” “Why not? Cotton is a nice clean thing. I should fancy; and money is money, however procured. I am a thor oughly unbiased person, thank heaven, and a w'arm admirer of honest indus try.” “You had better marry Mr. Younge, then, and you will be able to admire the fruits of it from this day until your death,” Mildred said. “Not at all a bad idea,” returned “the queen;” "thanks for the sugges tion. I shall certainly think about it If I like him sufficiently well on a nearer acquaintance, and if he is good enough to ask me, I will positively go and help him to squander that cotton money.” (To be continued.) J*iotur«*§qne Old CftHtle. Tourists who wish to see the castlf which Victor Cherbuliez, the famous French academician, has pictured in one of the most popular novels, “Paule Mere,” onght to visit Fossard. An elec tric train runs from Geneva to Chene. Thence it is only a few minutes’ walk through a shady lane to the Chateau des Terreaux, situated on the border of the little river which separates Switzer land from France. The old building is highly picturesque. Nothing has been changed since the celebrated author wrote the description. At sunset the mountain is a mass of changing color, and visitors are subject to a spell which will prevent them from ever for getting the little hamlet of Fossard and its castle.—Philip Jamin in Chicago Record. Kastcr In the New Century. In the century just begun there will be 5,217 Sundays. In that which we have hardly yet learned to speak of as last Easter Sunday has occurred once on its earliest possible date — March 22. 1818—but this will not re cur till the twenty-third century. The ejLrliest Easter in the new century will be March 23, 1913. Easter Sunday will fall once cm its latest day—April 25, in 1943. This also occurred once in May, but. on three occasions in the past century it occurred in June, and in the new century this will happen four times. flow Niagara In I{4<-A to $10 per day and expenses are allowed insurance examiners the recreant officials found it more profitable to neglect their spe cific duties and forage upon insurance companies. There is documentary evidence in the auditing department that J. A. Simpson, who was a county treasury examiner under Auditor Cornell, drew his salary regularly as such, yet neg lected that part of his duties and de voted much of liis time to Insurance examination, for whien he received fees of from $."> to $10 per day and ex penses. Those who claim to know whereof they speak are inclined to the opinion that all of tais money did not go into Simpson’s exchequer, and that it is a mathematical problem soluble through the process of division or sub traction with Auditor Cornell as a component factor. 'i he state normal school at Porn, •aside from being a harbor of refuge f fusion politicians has, under fu sion control, become an expensive lux ury to the tax payers. Ever since tho fusionlsts acquired control, the mer cury in the expense thermometer has be' ii rapidly rising, as attested by the following figures showing the appio prations for the respective periods: 1893-1896 .$42,400 1895-1897 . 48,296 1897-1899 . 49,842 1899-1901 .55,437 1901-1903 appropriation asked.. 60,140 1901-1903 for Improvements_ 75,000 It will be seen by the foregoing tab ulation that the expense of maintain ing the school has increased each bien nium until now $50,280 is demanded for salaries alone or more than it ever required under republican rule to de fray all expenses, salaries included. Of the $48,296 appropriated in 1895, $5,000 was for new improvements, which would bring the current ex penses at that time down to $13,290. From 1895 to 1897 there was an in ircnse in current expenses alone of more than $13,000 and the proposed increase in current expenses at this time over two years ago. when more than $50,000 was appropriated for that purpose, is $10,000. Tho increase is accounted for in various ways, but in each instance the hand of extravagance is visible. One instance was brought to light during the campaign last fall when an investigation developed the fact that a fusion newspaper plant was occupying spacious quarters in one cf the state buildings and was having its rent, light and heat provided for al the expense of the state, and, in ad dition, was mulcting the state on job printing and supplies which for some unaccountable reason it was allowed to supply the institution at its own fig ures. — Some sophomores of the state uni versity succeeded in fastening a sign to the braces of the roof at soldiers’ memorial hall Wednesday. Janitor Uhl first observed the sign when he re turned from nis uinner at 1 o’clock. It is a large red banner with the figures ’03 in white. It is not known how it was placed there, as it is suspended fifty feet from the floor and ther„ ap pears no way of climbing to this point. Some of the freshmen are now won dering how they can remove the ban ner. Tlie problem of the burned' peniten tiary is still in abeyance. A local architect has been engaged to examine the remaining walls and report to the state board of public lands anu build ings on their condition and estimated cost of rebuilding, pursuant to the di rections in the resolution adopted by the house. The report is not expected for several days. Acting Governor Savage has issued a requisition for Fred Brailey, who is wanted in Boyd county on the charge of criminal assault. The complaining witness is May Allgor. Brailey is un der arrest in Marshall county, Minne sota. The state agent who will bring him back to answer the charge is Her man ocamer. Nebraska’s reception by the occu pants of the reviewing stand on Penn sylvania avenue was recompense for the trouble it took to get there. It is an earnest of the feeling entertained toward this state by the leaders of the nation's affairs. Well informed citizens of Lincoln predict that the proposition to vote bonds for a city lighting plant will carry. It is feared by the friends of this scheme that if the bonds carry they will be tied up by injunction and that this will delay the work seriously, if it does not defeat the object of those who have interested themselves in cheaper municipal lighting. The death of Representative Brown increases the difficulty of securing an election with republican votes. The full number of members of the legbie lature at the beginning was 133. A CASE OF LAW. Ilaiato Dcrinlon lilfi'i Ktmnrii to nark-' lug I>og*» Owner. I .aw la a complicated thing, and some of its decisions seryn not to be founded' In equity. ^Probably most readers will pass that criticism upon the casa re corded below. Basutoland, being bro ken and mountainous, was until re cently the resort of lions, leopards and other wild animals. Now, however, the hillsides which were once the resort of these savage creatures are the pas ture-grounds of tens of thousands of cattle. Nearly all dangerous animals have been driven away from Basuto land, but not long ago a leopard ap peared on the outskirts of a village. The animal soon became badly fright ened as the villagers, and sought safe ty in flight. The next morning the in habitants turned out for a hunt. One of the hunters wap climbing a steep rock when he suddenly found himself face to face with the leopard, whose retreat was cut off by the rock Itself. Neither the animal nor the man could escape the encounter. The dilemma was an awkward one, for the climber wai unarmed. Recognizing his dauger, he put forth his hands and In despera tion caught hold of the leopard on each side of its jaws, holding it at arm’s length and calling for help. The leopard clawed and tore his captor, but the man held on till help arrived and the beast was speared. Now came a question of law. By Basuto law the skin belonged to the chief who must reward one of three claimants—either the man who speared the leopard, or the man who held it so that it was poesible to spear it, or the man who, being warned by the barking of his dog, first discovered the animal In the village. The Basuto Solomon decided the case as folows: The man who speared it could not have done so but for the man who held It, and the man who held It could not have known of its existence if the dog had not first warned the village; therefore the cred it for the killing belonged to the dog, whose owner was entitled to the re ward. WHERE AMERICA LEADS. Our CollcgfMt Are Morn Ainllablo for Women than E us la ini'*. A writer in the London Daily Mail states that popular sentiment in Ameri ca has done its greatest work in giv ing the poor girl a desire to go to col lege and in giving her a college where she can go. The girl who wants to go on £50 a year can do it. Unless she lives in a secluded village or a very small town she can go on half that sum. There are few towns of any size without a college of some kind, pri vately endowed and publicly maintain ed. Next to this almost universality of opportunity, the American college girl values most the social trust given her in it all and the knowledge of men which she receives. The typical Am erican girl studied side by side with her brother In the lower grades; she went to college naturally with him. It never occurred to her that she could not. It never occurred to him that she should not. Every American girl Is trusted socially and the typical Ameri can college girl—the co-educational girl—receives this trust to the great est degree. She thinks the English college girl as capable, even more so, of having this same social trust. “Does not England need now the American type of the college woman?” asks the American. "And. in making higher education so popular that most girls, whether rich or poor, would want it, and so cheap that most girls could get it; in raising the intellectual standard of English womanhood in general, as would he done by the former; in giv ing discipline of mind to hundreds who need It in the fight for bread, as would he done by the latter—in these is there not a mission as great and as vital as woman's education need have?” Army Surgeon, Win a Woman. "Murray Hall's” case has brought to mind the case of “Dr. James Barry,” once inspector general of hospitals in the British army and a “C. B.” This Individual presented the appearance of a slightly built, dark-complexioned man, beardless and with abrupt man ners. The doctor had a marked impa tience with anything like contradic tion, and his temper led to several duels, in which he came off best. The courage of the person was beyond question, hut the voice was thin and feminine in tone. When “James Bar ry” died “he” left explicit directions that he should he buried "all standing” as he was when death came. These directions were disregarded, and it was learned that the medical schools had duly qualified and the British gov ernment had decorated and pensioned a distinguished medical officer who was a woman.—New York Press. mistering Dead Ilodles. The fear of being buried alive has always been strong in Germany, and many precautions are usually taken to ascertain that death has occurred be fore resorting to burial. Germans are. consequently, much interested in the experiments being made by Parisian doctors to determine the absence of life. It is said the raising of a blister on the cuticle of a corpse by means of a candle speedily shows the presence or absence of the vital spark. In living bodies the blister is full of serum; in dead bodies it contains only steam.— Emil Henzel in Chicago Record. Anti-Vice Crusade In Japan. Through missionary influences in Japan new police regulations now' make it possible for inmates of houses of legalized vice, hitherto hopeless iLaves, to leave at their option. Chris tian reformers have freed at least 40 lucb unfortunates Airing the past two' months. ‘ *