Evening Star Newspaper, March 13, 1897, Page 15

Sal THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, MARCH 13, 1897-24 PAGES. THE NCESARY RESOURCE BY ANTHONY HOPE. Ht. Hawkins.) us results: The ir Henr: complete reno- h's town house. were more ob- political der, one d that of an neces- and ef : thanks to a fall in ulation. Lady > it for money good friend and ally imes he allowed her s and draw ers, hear- qwainian. observed » Prince Ju obeyed; that wa: nd to gro partner. The the prince . but sung man I he served only nments. tesides he’s en- ked Byers. “I to Palace d to the in Prince Julia the | | conspicuous or beautiful, compared with | the eharactey of a stock? Here, indeed, is a field for calumny, for innuendo, for hints of fallty, for whispers of intrigue; for andal mongers have their turn to serve, d the holders are swift to distrust. When somebody writes Sheridan's comedy anew, jet him lay the scene of it in a bourse; be- tween his slandered stock and his slan- ered dame, he may work out a very pret- ty ani fanciful parallel. Here, however, the facts can be set down | only plainty and prosaicaily. On all the | exchanges there arose a feeling of uneast- ness respecting the stock of the government of Prince Julian's country; selling was go- ing on, not in large blocks, but cautiously, | conti lly, in unending driblets; surely on m, and with a purpose? Then came par: ‘aphs in the papers (like whispers be- hind fans) discussing the state of the gov- | ernment and the country much in the vein which had marked Mrs. Rivers’ disserta- tions. By now the stock was down three points; by pure luck it fell another, in ysterious sympathy with the South Afri- can mining market. Next there was a riot | in a provincial town in the prince's coun- try, then a minister resigned and made a | Gamaging statement in the chamber. Upon this it seemed no more than natural that attention should be turned to Prince Julian, his habits, h ntourage, his visi- And now there were visitors; nobles sed the channel to see m; they came ithily, yet not so secr: but that there was a paragraph. These at folk had heard the rumors, and hope ed in their breasts. They talked Rivers had talked Byers. A day later a vhich possessed good and d universal information, announced that great activity reigned among Prince tlemen Julian's party, and that his royal highness | was considering the desirability of issuing | a manifesto. srtain ulterior steps,” the | writer continued, “are in contemplation, but of these it would be premature to | speak." There was not very much in all s, but it made the friends of the stock th | rather | uncomfortable; and they were no more happy when a leading article in a er demonstrated beyond possibil- ity that Prince Julian had a fair chanc2 of success, but that, if he regained | the throne, he could look to hold it only by seeking glory In an aggressive attitude to- THEN HE came r now If liking, half meney with it, 1 d then, lean- n- coun- divided, she ran p a thror pped, and asked Mr. @ cup of tea. He t and am she had all with none of knowledge of how. almost the only e to forgetting ting on it nm power. up before her ce she sald great heap: sm was for prese were a 4 Sh t par- number of other 5 “I believe the pe me in thetr hes s Julian; then he caught Mrs. R yoth her hands and cried, “And th queen. said she; and she Why do you bring gain now? It would spoil ft all.” contrary to what the world thought, Julian had offered several times the lady who was not recely (except, of course, by Lady ) Str. still, this marriage hing which the prince desired things, for, failing it, he feared s to a conscience and Rivers would did not know When he {ma cestral throne, Mrs y8 very near at hand; on the throne beside him or just beht! asa point he was prone tk, at any cost, though, she must be ent on there were many meet- the prince, Mr. Shum h were present some and Byers were never prince's imagination was timulated in those days; Lady for a speculation was Mr. Shum's cautious terrible shocks. Mrs. uropean politics, the at- burch and the secret quar- et in Prince Jullan’s coun- s gathered together ey of his own and other peo- on which he could lay hands. He ditating a great coup: just now he felt a queer touch of remorse reflected that his coup was so from the coup to which Mrs. sitions and the prince's vivid invited him. But he believed 1 of the fittest, and, although Rivers was very fit, he himself was Meanwhile the government in the prince's country faced its many difficulties with much bold- ness, and seemed on the whole safe enough. The birth and attributes of rumor have ed the attention of poets; whe thetorfe would have thelr metaphors mu!- tiplied had they ¢ more intimate acquaintance with the places where money is bought and sold? For in respect of awakening widespread interest, and affect- ing the happiness of homes, what is the character of any lady, however high born, Mrs. just by a Iittle bit fitter still. WALKED OVER TO WHERE 2 | weak I should do} ; but there was j SHE LAY. d his neighbors. On the appearance of luminous forecast the poor stock fell ro points more: th had been a suave of the timid holders. ually came the manifesto; and itted on all hands to be such an s to amount to an ¥ : had drawn t up—and this | he knew how to la: pots of the exi his fingers on all the ing government, how to touch en the glories of Prince Julian’s house, what tone to adopt on vexed ques- tions, how to rouse the enthusiasm of all scontented. “Given that the prince's s the necessary resources,” ob- me leading journal, “it cannot | be den’ the situation has assumed | an aspect of gravity. And the poor stock I a little more; upon which Mr. Shum, who had a liking for taking a profit | when he saw it, ventured to ask his part- how long he meant “to keep it up.” talk about that tomorrow,” said Byers. “I'm going to call in Palace this. afternoon.” He looked very ful as he brushed his hat and sent som. But as he drove along his and he smiled triumphantly party kad not the nec resources they could do nothing; If did nothing, would not the drooping sicek lift up her head again? Now no- body was in @ position to solve that prob- lem about the necessary resources so sure- ly or so swiftly as Mr: Byers. A hundred yards from Prince Julian's house he saw Lady Craigennoch walking along the pavement, and got out of his cab join her. - Shi full of the visit she st paid, above all of Ellen Rivers. vee she’s the whole thing, you know,” she said. ‘The adherents—good gracious, what helpless creatures! I don’t wonder the repubiicans upset them if thai’s what they're all like. Oh, they're gentle- men, of course, and you're not, Byers (Mr. Byers bowed ‘slightly and smiled acqul- escently), but I'd rather have you than a thousand of them. And the prince, poor 1, is hardly better. Always talking of what he'll do when he’s there, never think- ing how he's going to get there! Byers let her run on; she was giving him poth instruction and amusement. | _ “And then he's afraid—On, not of the bul- lets or the guillotine, or whatever it Is— cause he’s a gentleman, too, you know (Or, perhaps, you don't know! I wonder if you do? Shum doesn’t; perhaps you ¢o.) But he's afraid of losing her. If he goes, she won't go with him. I don't mean as— as she is now, you know. She won't go | anyhow, not as his wife even. Well, of course, if he married her he'd wreck’ the whole thing. But one would hardly expect her to see that—or even to care, if he did. Bee: He Imagined Himself Regaining His Ancestral Throne. She's very odd.” & mom added. “A lady of satire. “Oh, ¥ sald Lady Cratgennoch, scorn- ful that he needed to ask. “But 80 odd. Weil, you've seen her with him—just like a mother with her pe: boy! How hard she's worked, to be sure! She told me how she'd got him to sign the what's-its-name? He almost cried, because he'd have to zo without her, you know. But she says {t's all right now; he won't go back now, be- cause he’s given his word. And she's 's!m- ply triumphant, though she’s fond of him, and though she won't go with him.” Again Lady Craigennoch paused. ‘People won't call on that woman, you know,” she re- marked after her pause. Then she addeul, “Of course that's right, except for a repro- bate like me. But stili—” “She's an interesting woman,” said Byers in a perfunctory sympathy with his com- panion’s enthusiasm. Lady Craigennoch cooled down, and fixed a cold and penetrating glance on him. “Yes, and you're an Interesting man,’ she sald. “What are you doing, Mr. Byer: “Vindicating Right Divine,” he answered. Lady Craigennoch smiled. “Well, whac- ever it ts," she said, “Shum has promised that I shall stand fn.” Again she paused. “Only,” she resumed, “if you're making & fool of that woman—” She seemed unable to finish the sentence; there had been gen- uine indignation in her eyes for a moment; it faded away; but there came a slight fiush on her cheek as she added, “But that doesn’t matter If it's In the way of business, does it?” “And Shum has promised. that you shall stand in,” Byers reminded her gravely. ® Lady Craigennoch paused he’s fond of him, to: she ‘She's a very queer womai " asked Mr. Byers with a touch Lady Craigennoch dug her parasol into the streak of earth that showed between pavement and curbstone. “Anyhow I'm glad I called on her,” she sald. “I’m not much, heaven knows, but I'm _a woman to speak to.” ‘To cry to?” he hazarded. “How do you know she cried? Think what she'd been through, poor thing! Oh, you won't find her crying.” “I hope not,” said Mr. Byers with a per- fect seriousness in his slightly nasal tones; and when they parted he said to himself, “That woman hates having to know me. But there were many people in that posi- tion; and he spent much time in increasing the number; so the reflection caused him no pain, but rather a sense of self-com- placency; when people know you who hate having to know you, you are somebody. The thought passed, and the next moment he found himself being glad that Ellen Rivers had a woman to speak to—or to cry to—even though it were only Lady Craigennoch. 3 She was not crying when she received Mr. Byers. She was radiant. She told him that her part was done; now he must do his part; then the prince would do his; thus the great enterprise would be accom- plished. The odd pang struck, Byers again as he listened; he recollected the beginning of Lady Craigennoch’s unfinished sentence, If you're making a fool of that woman—. That was just what he was doing. Hoe es- caped from the thought and gratified his curiosity by turning the talk to Mrs. Rivers herself. “Accomplished, eh?” said he. “And it's a crown for the prince “Yes, and great influence for you.” “And you'll be—" “I shall be nothing. I shall go awi Ske spoke quickly and decisively; the reso- Iution was there, but to dwell on it was dangerous. “Where to?” he asked. ‘Oh, T don't know. Anywhere.” 8 “Back to your people?” She looked at him for a moment. He had allowed himself to sneer. Her manner, as she went on without taking any notice of his question, proved that Lady Craigennoch had been right in saying that she was a My work will be done,” she said. “From the first moment I knew the prince I de- termined to use my influence in this way. He only—he only needed a little encourage- ment.”” “And a little money?” “I gave him one, you're giving him the other. We shall both be repaid by his success.” “You're a very strange woman,” he said. Probably he did not know how straight and hard his eyes were set on her; they could not leave her. What a pity it was that she would not go with the prince—as his wife, or even (to use Lady Craigen- noch’s charitable evasive phrase) as she was now. To set the prince on the seat of his ancestors was not an exploit that ap- pealed to Mr. Byers; but to set this woman on a throne would be worth—well, how much? Mr. Byers detected this question in his own heart; he could not help reducing things to figures. “Why don’t you go with him?" he asked bluntly. “It would prejudice him, simply, folding her hand: Then she stretched out a hand toward him and said suddenly, with a sudden quiver in her voice, “I talk to you like this, and all the time I'm wanting to go down on my knees and kiss your hands, because you're doing this, The lean hand held the square jaw; the attitude waa a favorite one with Mr. By- and his eyes were still on her. Yes, that’s what I want to |. with a nervous laugh. “It of you.” Her breath came fa: bright. At that moment hed that the quick bre ght eves were for him himself, not for the helper of the prince; and for that moment he forgot Mrs. the babies in Portl. since he had had any she answered, in her lap. do." woman. He felt a sym with Prince Julian, who had almost when he signed the manife: se, If he mounted the throne, Ellen Rivers would We want money now, 4 "shi went on. “We want the manifesto in eve house. I can manage the distribution; a we must pay people—bribe them. We must w seed. It'll soon come up; and the prince act at the proper time.” “How much do you want now?" he asked. “Half a million now, and another next month,” she id. And more before the end?” “Yes, most likely. You can get it, you knew. ‘And shail I ever get it back?” “The prince bas given his word.” Byers assumed a doubtful air. not as stupid as that; you be she added, almost contemptuou ou mean it’s a speculation? Of I thought you had courage. ‘So I have,” said Byers. And he I may want it all, too.” What he would want it for was in his mind, but he did not tell her. He thought a great deal about the mat- ter that evening as he sat by the fire oppo- site to Mrs. Byers, who knitted a stocking and said nothing; she never brok his thoughts,believing that a careless inter- ruption might cost a million. Millions were in his mind now, and other things than millions. ‘There was his faith with his as- soctates; they were all walting his word; hen he gave it, rumors would die away, reports be contradicted, the manifesto be poo-poohed. There would be buyings, the stock would lift up her head again, confi- dence would return; and the first to buy, the first to return to faith in the stock would be Mr. Byers and his associates. The public would come in afterward, and when the public came in he and his associates would go out again, richer by vast sums. The moncy and his good faith—his honor among financiers—bound him, and the triumph of his brains, the beauty of his coup, the admiration of his fellows, the unwilling applause of the hard-hit—all these allured him mightily. On the other side, there was nothing except the neces- sity of disappointing Mrs. Rivers, of telling her that the necessary resources were not forthcoming, that the agitation and the manifesto had served their turn, that the prince had been made a fool of, that she herself had been made a fool of, too. Many such a revelation had he made to defeated opponents—calmly, Jestingly, perhaps—be- tween the puffs of his cigar, not minding what they thought. Why should he mind what Mrs. Rivers thought? She would no longer wish to kiss that lean, strong hand of his; she might cry (she had Lady Craig- ennoch to cry to). He looked across at his wife, who was knitting; he would not have minded telling anything to her. But so in- tensely did he mind telling what he had to tell to Ellen Rivers that the millions, his good faith, the joy of winning and the beauty of the coup, all hung doubtful in the balance against the look in the eyes of the lady at Prince Julian’s. ‘“‘What an in- fernal fool I am!” he groaned. Mrs, Byers glanced up for 2 moment, smiled sympa- thetically, and went on with her knitting. She supposed that there must be some tem- porary hitch about the latest million, or perhaps Shum had been troublesome; that Was something what was upsetting Mr. Byers. Whe next morning Mr. Shum was trouble- sdme; he thought that the moment for action had come; the poor stock had been blown upon enough, the process of re- habilitation should begin. Various other gentlemen, weighty with money, dropped in with their hats on the back of their heads and expressed the same views. Byers fenced with them, discussed the question rather inconclusively, took now this side and now that, hesitated, vacillated, shilly- shallied. The men wondered at him; they knew they were right; and, right or wrong, Byers had been wont to know his own mind; their money was at stake; they looked at one another uncomfortably. Then the youngest of them, a fair boy, great at dances and late suppers, but with a brain for figures and a cool boldness which made him already rich and respected in the city, tilted his shining hat still a little further back and drawled out, “If you've lost your nerve, Byers, you'd better let somebody else engineer the thing.” What her fair fame is to a proud woman, the prestige of his nerve was to Mr. Byers. The boy had spoken the decisive word by chance, by the unerring instinct which in any sphere of thought is genius. In half an hour all was planned, the government of the prince's country saved, and the agitation at an end. The necessary re- sources would now be forthcoming, confi- dence would return, the millions would be made, the coup brought off, the triumph won. So in the next fortnight it happened; Prince Julian looked on with vague bewilder- ment, reading the articles and paragraphs which told him that he had abandoned all thought of action, had resigned himself to wait for an express recall from his loving subjects (which might be expected to assail his ears on the Greek Kalends), that, in fact, he would do nothing. Mrs. Rivers read the paragraphs, too, and waited and waited and waited for the coming of Mr. Byers and the necessary resources; she smiled at what she read, for she had confi- dence in the cause, or, least, in herself and in Mr. Byers. But the days went on. Slowly the stock rose; then in went the public with a rush. The paragraphs and the articles dwindled and ceased; there was a commotion somewhere else in Europe: Prince Julian ‘and his manifesto were for- gotten. What did it me She wrote a note asking Mr. Byers’ t. 1, It was just at this time also that Mr. Henry Shum accepted the invitation of the Conservative Association of the Hatton Garden Division of Holborn Bars to contest the seat at the approaching general elec- tion, and that Lady. Craigennoch gave orders for the complete renovation of her town house. Both these actions involved, of course, some expense, hOw much it is hard to say precisely. The house was rather large, and the seat was very safe. Prince Julian sat in his library in Palace Gate, and Mrs. Rivers stood beside him, her hand resting on the arm of his chair. Now and then the prince glanced up at her face rather timidly. They had agreed that then Mrs. matters showed no_ progress; Rivers had become silent, “Has Byers thrown us Over?” the prince asked at last. : “Hush, hush,” she. answered, in a low voice. “Wait till he’s been; he's coming Her voice sank lower still as she whispered: ‘He can't have; oh, he can't! There was silence again. A few minutes passed before the prince broke out fret- fully: “I'm sick of the whole thing. I’m very well as I am. If they want me, let them send for me. I can't force myself on them: She looked down for a moment, touched his hair with her hand. “If this has come to nothing, I'll never try again. I don’t like being made a fool of” : Her hand rested for a moment on his forehead; he looked up smiling. “We can be happy together,” he mur- mured. “Let’s throw up the whole thing and be happy together.” He caught her hand in his. “You'll stay with me any- how?” “You want me still “Yeu'll do what I ask?” he whispered. “That would put an end to it indeed she said, smiling. “Thank heaven peevishly. A servant came in and announced that Mr. Byers was in the drawing room., €hall I come, too?” asked the prince. ‘Oh, no,” she answered with a strange little lavgh. “What's the use of bothering you? I'll see him.” “Make him say something definite,” urged Prince Julian. “Let's have an end uf it one way or the other.” “Very well.” She bent down and kissed him, and then went off to talk to Mr. By- ers. The fair boy with the business brains might have been serlousiy of opinion that there was something wrong with Byers nerve had he seen him waiting for Mrs. Rivers in the drawing room, waiting to tell her thafthe necessary resources were not forthcoming; he hoped that he need tell her no more than that; he wished that he had not come, but he could not endure the self-contempt which the thought of running away had brought with it; he must face her; the woman could do no more than abure him. One other thought he and for it,’ he exclaimed, had for a moment entertained—of offering stand in, as Mr. Shum had let ennoch; there was hardly any h he would net have been glad to give her. But long before he reached the house he nad decided that she would not stand in. “By G—d, I should think not!” he said to himself, indignantly. But he had one phrase ready for her. He reminded her of the paragraphs, the rumors, and the manifesto. “We have by those means felt the pulse of the public,” he said. He paus he said nothing. “The result is not—er—encouraging,”” h wer or. ou prom sed the the manife Promised? You promis What's the difficul The state of publ ig.” he began. “L know that. We wagt the money to change it.” She smiled. Slighuy. “If tie feeling had vren with; us already we shouldn't have wanted; the money.” She leant forward and d, “Haven't you got the mor e: ad. : “Yes, I've got it—or 1 could get it.” Well, then—} Why have you changed your mind? He 1 no answer, and for awhile she sat looking at him thoughtfully. She did not abuse hita, and she, did not ¢ “I want to Understand,’ she said, pres- ently. i cr méan to give us the money? 5 “Yes, upon my honor I-——" “Are you sure?’ She forced him to look her in the face; he was silent. She rose, took a Japanese fan froma side table and sat down again; the lower part of her “The moment is not propitious. money it the rince ace Was now hidden by the fan; Byers sav nothing but her eyes. “What did you meen?’ she asked. “You've made us all— and friends and me—look How did that help you? I don't see what you could get out of that.” She was looking at him now as though she thcvght him mad; she could not see what he had got out of it; it had not yet crossed her mind that there had been money to be got out of it; so ignorant was she, with all her shrewdness, with all her resolution. “And I understood that you were such a clever, far-seeing man,” she went on. Lady Craigennoch always told me so; she uid I could trust you in anything. Do tell me abcut it, Mr. Byers.” I can’t explain it to you, You—you wouldn't—” Yes, I should understand it if you told ,”” she insisted. if he told her ne was a liar and a thief he began. m she would understand. Probably she would. But he did not think that she would understand the transaction if he used any less plain language about it. And that language was not only hard to use to her, but strvck strangely on his own head and his cwn heart. Surely there must be other terms in which to describe his part in the transaction? There were plenty of such in the were there none in Palace Gate? “It's a matter of business—” began, She stopped him with an imperious wave of the fan. Her eyes grew animated with a sudden enlightenment; she looked at him for a moment or two, and then asked, “Have you been making money out of it again he somehow?’ He did not answer. “How, please?” she asked. “What does that matter?’ His voice was low. - 1 should like to hear, please. “You don't want to tell me? But I want to know. It—IUll_be useful to me to understand things like this.” It seemed to Mr. Byers that he had to tell her; that this was the one thing left that he could do; the one obligation which he could perform. So he began to tell her, and as he told her, naturally (or curiously, since natures are curious) his pride in the great coup revived—his professional pride. He went into it all thoughtfully; she follow- ed him very intelligently; he made her un- derstand what an “option” was, what “differences,” what the “put” and what the “call.” He pointed out how the changes in public affairs might make welcome changes in private pockets, and would have her know that the secret center of great movements must be sought in the beurses, not in the cabinets of Europe; perhaps he exaggerated here a little, as a man will in praising what he.loves. Final- ly, carried away by enthusiasm, he gave her the means of guessing with fair ac- curacy the profit that he and his friends had made out of the transaction. Thus ending, he heaved a sigh of relief; she un- derstood, and there had been no need of those uncivil terms whidh ately had press- ed themselves forward to the tip of his tongue so rudely. y “I think I'd better not try to have any- thing more to do with politics,” she sald. “I—I’m too ignorant.” ‘There was a little break in her tones. Byérs glanced at her sharply and apprehensivety. Now that his story was ended, his énthusiasm died away; he expected abube’ now. Well, he would bear it; she wag’ efttitled to relieve her mind. og te “What a fool I’ve been! How you must have been laughing at me—at my poor prince and me!’ She lodke across at him, smiling faintly. He sat, twisting his hat in his hands. Then 8) turned her eyes toward the fireplace; Byers had nothing to say; he was wondering whether he might go now. Glancing at ker for permission, he saw that her clear, bright eyes had grown dim; presently a tear formed and rolled down her chee Then she began to sob, softly at first, presently with grow- ing and rising passion. She seemed quite forgetful of him, heedless of what he thought and of how she looked. All that was in her, the pang of her dead hopes, the woe for her poor prince, the bitter shame of her own crushed pride and help- less folly, came out in her sobs as she abandoned herself to weeping. Byers sat by, lstening always—looking sometimes. He tried to defend himself to himself; was it decent of her, was it becoming, wasn’t it churacteristic of the lack of self-control and self-respect that marks the sort of woman she was? It might be open to all these réproaches.” She seemed not to care; she cried en. He could not help looking at her now; at last she saw him looking, and with a, little stifled ex- clamation—whether of apology or irrita- tion he could not tell—she turned sideways and hid her face in the cushions of the sofa. Byers rose slowly, almost unsteadil, to his feet. “My God!” he whispered himself, as he stood for a moment and Icoked ‘at her. Then he walked over to where she lay, her head buried in the cushions. It doesn't make all that difference to you,” he said roughly. “You wouldn't have gone with him.” She turned her face to him for a mo- ment. She did not look her best; how could she? But Mr. Byers did not notice that. “I Tove him! and I wanted to do it Byers had “wanted to do it,” too, and their desires had clashed. But in his de- sire there had been no alloy of love; it was all true metal, true metal of self. He stood over her for a minute without speal ing. A strange feeling seized him the he hud felt it once before with regard to this woman. “If it had been for you I'd have damned the money and gone ahead,” he blurted out in an indistinct, impetuous utterance. Again she looked up; there was no sur- prise, no resentment in her face, only a heart-breaking plaintiveness. “Oh, W! couldn't you be honest with me?” she moaned. But she stopped sobbing and sat straight on the sofa again. “You'll think me still more of a fool for doing this,” she said. Was the abuse never coming? Mr. Byer: began to long for it. If he were abused enough he thought thet he might he able to find something to say for himself. “You think that because—because I live as I do, I know the world and—and so on. I don’t, a bit. It doesn't follow really, you know. Fancy my thinking I could do any. thing for Julian! What do I know of busi ness? Well, you've told me now “If it had been for you I'd have risked it, and gone ahead,” said Byers again. “I don’t know what you mean by that, she murmured, vaguely. Byers did not try to describe to her the odd strong impulse which had inspired his speech. “I must go and tell the prince about she said. “What cre you going to do?’ he de- manded. “Do? What is there to do? Nothing, I suppose. What can we do?” “I wish to God I'd—I'd met a woman like you. Shall you marry him now She looked up; a faint smile appeared on her face. “Yes,” she said. and he'll like it. now.” Two visions—one was of Mrs. Byers and the babies in Portland pl—rose before By- “It doesn’t matier now; Yes, I'l marry him ers’ thoughts. “He hasn’t lost much, then,” he said. “And you? You'll be just as happ, “It was the whole world to me,” said she, and for the last time she put her handkerchief to her e Then she stow- ed it away in her pocket and looked ex- pectantly at her visitor; here was the per- mission to go. “Will you take the money?” said he. “What money?” “What I've made. My share of it.” “Oh, don’t be silly. What do I care what money you've made?” He spoke lower as he put his second auestion. “Will you forgive me?” he asked. “Forgive you?” She laughed a little, yet looked puzzled. “I don’t think about you like that,” she explained. “You're not a man to me.” “You're a woman to me. to you, then?” “T don’t knew. Things world—busines Yes, you're the She laughed aga almost appe: ly, as though s him to understand how he seemed to her. He drew in his breath and buttoned his coat. ‘And you're the truth about me,” he said. “And the truth is that a dam: scoundrel.” “Are 2” she asked, as it seemed half in- surprise, half in indifference. “Oh, I What am I in general—the myself. to im suppose you're no worse than other people. Oniy I was such a fool. Good-bye, Mr. Byer: he held out her han}. He had net meant to offer his. But he took h and pressed it. He had a vague desire to tell her that he was not a type of all humanity, that other men wi tter than he was, that there were unselfish men, true men, men who did not make fools for money’s sake of women: yes, of women whose shoes they were not worthy to black But he could not say anything of all thi: ard he left her without another w. the next morning he bought the a big block of the ck; for the ne Prince Julian’s marriage with Mrs. Rivers would send it up a point or two. Habit is strong. hen he was gone, Mrs. Rivers went up- stairs to her room and bathed her face. ‘Then she rejoined Prince Julian in the li- y. Weary of waiting, h ad gone to but he woke up and was rejoiced her. He listened to her story, called Mr. Byers an infernal rogue, and, with an the end of thai! now, marry you now,” she said. “It doesn’t matter now.” Thus, as has been said, the whole affair had only three obvious effects—the renova- tion of Lady Craigennoch’s town house, a baronetcy for Sir Henry Shum (services to the party are a recognized claim on the favor of her majesty) and the marriage cf Prince Julian. But from it both Mrs. Riv- ers and Mr. Byers derived y ideas of the world and of thems Shall wo- men weep and hard men curse their own work without result? The temple of truth is not a national Institutioa. So, of course, one pays to go in. Even when you are i it 1s difficult to look at more than one of it at once. Perhaps Mrs. Rivers ¢ realize this; and Mr. Byers could not while he seemed still to hear her crying; he heard the sobs for so many evenings, mingling oddly with the click of his wife's needle: The Whale and the Creea. Religious fights I always did bews “Tis something that I never take a start in, T hate to see good people rant and rail Of things en Which no one should feel too ‘sartin;”? So this e “twixt Jonzh and the whal It's hard to see how one can take much heart tn, And xet his feelings all torn up and nettled About a thing that never can be settled, Thave a frie old_as he can be, His legs are wabbly “and bis head 1s hoary, Who in a thousand ways has shown to me A faith implicit in the Jonah story; His old wife with lin scarcely can agree, Sue says it 1s an ancient allegory. And he, in peace, permits his wife to doubt it, ‘Though’ years ago they quarrelled some about it. ‘The Bible is a book that T adore For precepts found within its sacred pages; Oft when I'm sad I turn its pages o'er And read the record of departed sages; But matters in dispute, alas, no more My way-worn and distracted mind gen, Like Jonah and the whale and Noah's tasdiig And things that tax my feeble understanding. I read instead what I can understand, ‘The story of a Father's love, undying, The: re of another, better land eyond this vale of pain and want hi A mansion in a city great and grand, ) ‘USMInE The glory of man’s highest art outvying, Where wickedness can come to torture never, And weary souls can rest In peace forever. And while I don’t bank much on any creed And doctrines taught by schools ecclestastic, Father comfort from the things 1 rea t makes my heart more mellow-like and plastic. cannot, follow where some teachers lead, Nor take their theologic potions drastic; And this is all my creed, awake or sleeping, The Lord 1s good, and I am in His keeping. ebraska State Journal. +e Rapid Shoemaking. From Scribner's, One of the big Lynn shoe shops made a pair of ladies’ boots for the Paris exhibi- tion of 1889 in twenty-four minutes. A no- tary public followed the operation, watch in hand. For this feat the pair of shoes went through the usual routine of the shop, but at exceptional speed; fifty-seven different operators and forty-two machines were concerned in the work, which required twenty-six pieces of leather, fourteen Pieces of cloth, twenty-four buttons, twen- ty-four button holes, eighty tacks, twenty nails, two box toes, two steel shanks and twerty yards of thread. Since that time the division of labor upon a pair of shoes has become still greater, and there is a larger number of machineg employed, with the result that a pair of ladies’ boots can now be made complete in this factory in- side of twenty minutes. G@arvelous Mechanism of the Human Body. Boom Ladies’ Home Journal. The human body is an epitome in nature of all mechanics, all hydraulics, all archi- tecture, all machinery of every kind. There are more than three hundred and ten me- chanical movements known to mechanics today, and all of these are but modifica- tions of those found in the human body. Here ere found all the bars, levers, joints, pulleys, pumps, pipes, wheels and axles, ball and socket movements, beams, girders, trusses, ‘buffers, arches, columns, cables and supports ‘known to science. At every point man’s best mechanical work can be shown to be but adaptations of processes of the human body, a revelation of first prin- ciples used in nature. 24 I I REAL TOBOGGANING. | Something 1 Takes Cournge. From the London Globe, Tobogganing as a recognized sport is of very recent origin, and is practically con- | fined to Daves and St. Moritz. For, as played in Canada, the United States and Russia, it is not a game of skill and en durance. In those countries the toboggan simply glides down an incline, usually in a chute from two to three feet wide, covered with snow or ice. The speed att raid to be from seventy to eighty Ski and hour, and the toboggan used is the “Ca- nadian,” of thin ash boards turned up in | front. It is perfectly sate and easy. In) the Alps things are altogether different, ani a notable sport has been evolved in | the last few years. It may easily be con- ceived that the mere rush downhill, even | apt at eighty miles an hour, ts Englishmen winterirg at Davo something more than that. exercise hand and eye, skill and nerve; a true s to hand were the despised “schitttli,” ungainly Swiss hand sled, and the road winding and doubling down to Klos- ters. To coast down this road, sitting upon the “schlittli,” was good fun. The sharp turns allowed frequent opportunities for involuntary dives down the snowy slopes on the cutside edge, and the ruts and other inequalitles required careful ma- neuvering, while the frequent sleigh added source of danger. to pall ught for | % Eat if you get a package like this, It contains the genuine Gon st WaAsHING PoWDER It cleans everything ana cleans it quickly and cheaply. Largest package—greatest economy. the winter. He had thus become an expert tobogganer—for the term was now applied to the rider—and was skilled in. the s of the road is and others, seeing and also that other natives and visit- ors were good riders, conceived the hapy notion of an international race on that road. Accordingly, on Februar: ISS3, the first race was slid, and the evolution of tobogganing may be have begun. The course w 100 yards, with a fail of Minsch tled with an Australian visitor, but fa the next year's race won outright, as he has done once or iwice since. One ‘small improvement was soon introduced into this road-racing; in the substitution of hand-steering, by means ot ironu-tipped pegs, for the old foot-steer- THE N. K. FAIRBANK COMPANY, ges Chicago, St. Louis, New Yor’ The winter of 1SS1-S) saw the first build- e ; oe * ing of the Cresta run at Moritz, and me Philadelphia, atter that chang were quic! introduced. | - There is no road like the KI Moritz, so from the bei have been artificial. Th only important as experiments. been found on them that very sharp curves —“corners”—could be ridden if banked with snow (on the same principle as a cycle track.) But the toboggan runners soon cut the banks to pieces, and icing was resorted to. Soon the whole surface of the run was iced, and fast, smooth traveling, with a curate stee! , became possi Sot first Cresta run was tced and rooked and was altegether a devilish invention. As Davos had taken the dignified title “international” for its race, it was laue ingly suggested that the Cresta race should be called the “grand national.” And so it Ss at St. its runs r, and do Ss not nearly « ecme by a greater however f attributes of h sical prowess which ‘om being a child Alps has become f was, and i: Davosers carried off the championship for the first three years, but after that the Engadiners found them nd have never since lost the pride | ‘The S87 C: novation, which w: conquered finally. One rode head first. He failed to gain a p! but next year the Davos race was W a head-first rider, who rode an “Ame: machine, longer er than the Swiss superiority and his position were som; st that ail the § men rode Americas in the follow A head-first rider again won, an. then the prone is the on! an important in t, but which | ito: "x highway is In this style of riding sey base ap ae rewed to the toe of the | Bur the virtue with projecting serrated edges, ama th purpose of steering a es » “skeleton” toboggan rried off not only the * but the “international” , thus proving | = 2 iis superiority on road and path, so to | How He Meant to Settle It. speak. A steel “skeleton” is somewhat | From the San Frauctsco I tke an “America.” with a steel framework | Judge Murphy was trring a « n in lieu of wooden sides. It is five inc Pee : J ait high, twelvé in wide and its length | Rafacl once. It vehi ahs esi should equal the distance from the rider's | bitterly contest It had not prox chin to his knee. All good riders now ride fore the attorneys got te this type of toboggan. Thus, in a few attorney for the defens years, the sitting gave way to the he: foremost position, and the antique Swis “coaster” to the modern 5' But while the machin n and the rider fitting himself to crooked artificial run was being per: attorney fo! ating Fin 3 ha pitch that the at cution turned upon his | retaliated with all his m | ters got to s | for the pros y become most devio re aeeee tte Tt twists and’ turns, dee | Rent and called him down in open court. scribes semi-circles and S's, goes down hill | Judge Murphy interrupted, s and up, or, on ion, keeps level. It has | “Gentiemen, “re SA eS “banks” and |-rhis sort of thing is very disrespectful to “straights.”The Cresta {s the highest and most startling development in this style of thing, and Mr. Egmont Hake well calls tt “the steeplechase course of the tobogg: ing world.” Its total length 1s three-quar- ters of a mile, from a point above St. Mor- | Ps itz to the fields of Cresta, G00 fect Twelve skilled laborers, with some amateur help, take six weeks to constr . WH Eulpett, president of the St. Moritz To- bogganing Club, superintending. Th: ceurse is marked out with stakes before for such ext | the court. This is no plac Ditions. If you gentlemen hay ences to settle, setile them out The ettorney for the defe: and said ur honor pleas If your honor please,” ing aiiorney, “I wish to say that we have differences. And I wish to give notice that when court adjourns I d to crack that s head over there. said the prosecut- the snow falls. One foot of snow permits Murphy exploded. “How dare y of a start. Four men arm in arm tr dare you? This Is the gros over the projected course several time: of court! How dare you come Then snew shovels are used to fill up in- | here to terrify counsel? I fine equalities and to bank the curves and “‘cor- | you $50, sir; $i : a ners.” The whole is finally iced, and r The attorney replic That is rather honor please. tis hard on me, if distinctly your minds one of the winding crystal staircase nay uggested tl of fairyland. The method of racing is honor against time, since only one toboggan can | settle my di with this man out of with safety be run at once. Three courses and I gave notice of my intention to are ridden by each man, the fastest aggr That was all. I have the highest gate winning. In 1895 the winner's aggre- | respect and ay jation of your honor's gate was 3 minutes seconds, and the | judgment in such matters, and I felt proud fastest single course 714-5 secor In t your honors advice.” 3 1896 this single-course record w by Judge Murphy was not proof against two-fifths of a second, if I remember right- | such subtle flattery, and the fine was ly. This speed is about forty miles an | promptly remitted. seeded ete teeter teetete edna THE EVENING STAR 3 i} ALMANAC. The most valuable Handbook obtainable for the office and library. It covers every subject briefly Chap- ter after chapter of needed and intelligently. information, found nowhere else, makes it doubly attractive. A wealth of facts re- garding the local. govern- ment, statistics on the District’s educa- table and commercial’ institutions, etc., all find ex- - tended space in this handy little volume. 7 caren Cents a Copy. f aes) For sale at the counting Star tional, financial, chari- re j room of the Evening and by all newsdealers,