Grand Rapids Herald-Review Newspaper, January 17, 1903, Page 6

K IN VAVAAVATATA VA CHAPTER XI. (Continued.) “That is the man who is ill there?” “Yes.” Julia thought her brother looked pale and disturbed, but she was in a mood to question him. “That girl nurses him, I suppose.” “If you mean Miss Purcell, no. There is a nurse there. I presume she helps. “Have you seen him?” “No.” “Ralph do you want to know what fs ‘borne in upon me,’ as they say?” “Out with it.” “It is not Dick Burt who will be your most dangerous rival.” “Who then?” And Ralph moved uneasily in his chair, and at last rose up and began walking about. “This Rothesay.” “Pshaw! Regular woman's talk that fs!” he cried, angrily. S “Call it what you please, it’s the most likely thing in the world. Shall I attack Rothesay, too?” with a confi- dent smile. “How can you? They are too near together; they'll see your game. And then, there’s ths protection for us: Rothesay is just on the eve of mar- riage. He is probably safe from fall- ing in love with Kate, whatever she may feel for him.” “Only possible. We don’t know hhow the case stands. You would be Just as apt to fall in love with a beau- tiful girl who tended you when you ‘were ill; it would make no difference ‘to you, even if you were married. We don’t know anything about hm. He may get her bewitched so that she ‘wouldn’t listen to you anyway.” Ralph did not speak. He could not ay that he knew Vance Rothesay to be the soul of honor; he could not tell Julia that for anyone bearing the name of Caryl to attempt to win Rothesay would be hard, indeed. He decided’ to let her do as she pleased. The presence of Rothesay complicated things, he thought. He aid: “I won't give you any directions in the matter, save to impress it upon you that Burt must be taken care of- any, way. If Rothesay is better, he’ll soon leave, and be out of the way.” That was all the conversation be- tween the two that night, and Julia gwent to bed that night wondering where Ralph had met Rothesay. She ‘was ignorant of a good deal of her prother’s history. « The next day was clear, a bright sun ining over the land and water, and a ft west wind blowing. Julia Caryl did not rise until the sun had been up many hours, and when he did at last come down to break- t, it was to find that Dick Burt had ‘been there, and her brother Ralph thad gone off with him, not knowing qwhen he would come back. : Julia was vexed and impatient. She id not know what to do with herself. fAt last she put on her hat and walked wn to the shore, her face expressing e ennui she was suffering. » “Only let me really get into my rk,” she was thinking. “When Isee rt again I will ssee what I can do ith him. He doesn’t know what my mile is yet.” ; She went slowly along until she was early opposite the Purcell cottage. jhe saw a figure moving slowly down ward the water. Who was it? Ap- rently not seeing it, she moved a lit- le faster, and her far-seeing gaze soon le out that it was a man, moving ith the utmost care and leaning on a ne. “It is Rothesay,” she said to herself, and why is he alone?” She came along still faster, gazing mocently about her, and coming jetong behind the man, that she might letady him more closely. The tall, gaunt form, the thin and wallow features, the weak-seeming fgnovements, the air of gentlemanliness he noted all, and drew still nearer, ithout seeming to have more than janced at him. Pie continued walking, with difficulty lown toward the water. When within a few yards of it he wayed, staggered a pace or two, and en fell to the ground. Julia ran forward and stooped over im. She saw directly that he had inted from over-exertion in his weak itate. She caught up his hat and ran and led it with the cold salt water, she jprinkled the water in his face, and en sat down, taking his head on her In a few moments he again opened is eyes, and thought he must again be lelirious, as he saw the beautiful, so- itous face bent down toward him. “I thought I had got beyond that!” ie murmured, impatiently. “I thought mind was stronger.” '{ “It is the flesh that is weak,” said julia, with a smile, and in her most ignelodious tone. {. He started at the sound of her voice, id said: ‘ “It is real, then? You 5) I be- ved I was out of my head again.” “I believe I am real,” she responded; “real enough to assist you, I hope. fou are not strong enough to walk. need a little patience.” Rothesay’s eyes dwelt in admiration d curiosity upon the woman who ap- red to him beautiful enough to have rung from the sea, as did Venus of and she seemed to have come as steriously. “Don’t speak to me of patience,” he id. .“A man can’t be patient under e circumstances.” $ And he tried to raise his head from , but it sank back again, too zy to be held upright. He smiled tly as he whispered: VAN AAA AAA MARMARA AARAA ALO A Daughter of the Beach NX NAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANA AAAAAAAN “But I am sure I can be patient here.” He did not see the look of anticipat- ed triumph that came for an instant into her face. The next moment he tried again to raise himself, and this time he suc- ceeded. He sat upright for a few moments, then he said: “If you will give me your hand I think I can stand now. I did think I had a trifle more strength.” She rosé and assisted him to his feet. She placed the cane in his hands and then said: “If you will lean on my arm, I think you can walk better. This sand is not easy to step on. You must allow me to say you were very careless to come out like this.” Rothesay did as she suggested, and they began making their way, slowly, to the house. The young man wished she would speak again, for there was a wonder- ful charm in Julia Caryl’s voice, though some of her own sex might*have sus- pected its sincerity. But he was too breathless to make any remark himself, and so they went on in silence, he leaning heavily on her arm, in spite of all his efforts not to do so. Just before they reached the house, Kate Purcell came around from the back, evidently having started to go down to the water in search of Rothe- say. ‘ She could not help starting and ut- tering an exclamation of surprise as she saw the two, and she wondered at herself that a constriction seemed to come about her heart. What could it matter to her? This man was going away to his betrothed in a few days. It made no possible difference to her what he should think of this woman, whose name she did not yet know. “T imagine this gentleman is your patient, Miss Purcell,” said Julia, who was the first one to speak, “and I have half a mind to say that you should have been more strict with him. He is doing himself harm in his impa- tience.” “He is, indeed,” replied Kate, in- wardly resenting Julia’s words. “But I must exonerate myself from any share in this imprudence. I knew he was coming down stairs to-day, but I had no idea that he would escape out of doors in this way. I was away; but I see that someone should have stood on guard.” As she spoke, the two girls assisted Rothesay into the house,.where he im- mediately lay down upon the lounge, fiercely exasperated with himself at his weakness. He lay silent, his eyes closed, and his whole face showing how entirely ex- hausted he was. Being a man, he did not read Julia Caryl at all as Kate Purcell had done. The two girls sat and chatted a few minutes with great amiability, Kate surprised at herself that she could feel so hateful toward one who had never done her the least harm. When Julia rose to go, Rothesay raised himself upon his arm and said: “I have not yet had the grace to thank you. Next time I have the pleasure of seing you I hope I shall not be quite so helpless.” He extended his hand and she put hers into it, while she smiled and re- turned some trivial reply in that en- chanting voice of hers. Looking at them thus, Kate could not help thinking that it was not to be wondered at if Vance Rothesay should forget honor in such a presence. Julia turned easily to Kate and said: “T hoped to make your acquaintance more thoroughly than I did yesterday, but I congratulate myself on my call to-day.” Instead of going directly, as she had seemed to intend, she began a gay and humorous description of her mishap of the day before—not sparing to ridicule herself, and making a most entertain- ing history. Kate could not help laughing hearti- ly, and Rothesay she had not seen look so animated since he came. But Julia, did not stay long;, she knew when to go, when her presence was still desirable, and, with a gay adieu, she went away. Rothesay lay silent for a while, watching Kate as she went about. the room, her touch making the rude place look homelike. His thoughts were con- fused and strange. In spite of himself, the memory of Miss Lauriat had grown somewhat dim during his sickness, and now it was with something of an effort that he told himself that. in a few days, at the least, he could leave her and go. “Who is she?” he asked, at last, re- vealing, as Kate thought, where his thought has been. Then it struck her that she did not know the name of the lady, and she told him so. “I think she asked my name in the field yesterday, but I never thought to return the question.” “Oh, where is woman’s curiosity?” he exclaimed, with a smile. Then, a moment later, as he moved uneasily: “Will you arrange this handkerchief for me? It hurts my arm?” As Kate bent over him to change the position of his arm, that was in the sling, she felt his eyes upon her, and she was angry at herself that a wave of color rose to her face. ‘ Why should his gaze affect her? Had she not, a hundred times, within the last fortnight, told herself she would be glad when he went away— that he had disturbed the calmness cf her home? And was he not as good as married to another? And if he was not, what did it matter to her? | DEFECTIVE PAGE * When she drew back he caught her hand and held it fast, and she could but stand still, longing for her usual composure. “I know I have been such a care to you,” he began, looking at her with a gaze that perhaps he would not have allowed had he known that there was more than love and thankfulness in it. “You don’t disclaim that I have been a care to you?” he said, smiling slightly. “No; but you must be aware that we are glad to have been of service to you,” she said, in reply, speaking some- what colder than she knew. The cool tones irritated her into speaking somewhat warmer than he had intended to do. “You have endured me well—you have been more kind than I could pos- sibly have expected, and I thank you for it,” he continued, hurriedly. “But after all that I have suffered, Miss Pur- cell, I cannot regret a single pain— for the accident and the illness were the means of my knowing you.” He seemed not able to let go his hold upon her hand; he had spoken with an earnestness that appeared to have conquered all his previous reso- lutions. “What could she say? Was he mere- ly complimenting her in the extryva- gant manner of society? She knew so little of society, But she knew that had she been Laura Lauriat, and heard his tone and words, seen the look in his eyes, she should have trem- bled for her empire over him. Moved though she was, the sterling uprightness of her character sustained her in temptation which was perhaps the greatest of her life. It was the temptation to yield, at least. inwardly, to the tenderness and passion of his voice. But she took his words and manner to be merely an inordinate gratitude. t “You have no call to be so grate- ful, Mr. Rothesay,” she said, now suc- eeeding in withdrawing her hand.) “It is not a flattering thing to say, but I trust we should have done the same by any stranger who had been un- fortunate like you.” As he listened to her—and her tones were almost icy, so much repression had she put upon herself—his face faded from its warm expression into one of such bitter disappointment that it pierced like a knife into the girl's heart. But she did not soften; she was afraid of herself if she relaxed her hold over herself even so much as by a hair’s breadth. “You and your father have been very kind,“ he repeated in a set voice, “and I shall never forget it. I hope I shall not trespass upon your kind- ness much longer. I had thought that to-morrow I might be able to leave, but, he sighed, wearily, “I fear that I overestimated my strenght. I shall be obliged to remain yet a day longer.” “Yes, it will be safer. You will gain nothing by too great haste,” she re- plied. She was longing to get away by her- self, but just then a neighbor came and sat down for a long gossip, and the girl was obliged to endure it, and it took a strength and resolution of which she did not know herself cap- able. At last she was free, and she fled out of doors, walking down the beach until she came to a sheltered corner of rock, when she threw herself down on the sands with an expression so suggestive of despair as to be stronger than any words could have been. She loved Vance Rothesay. She could no longer deny it to herself. His voice and eyes had stirred the deepest depths of her heart. She loved him, and loved hopelessly—most hopelessly. She sat with her white face turned toward the sea, her eyes tearless, look- ing, unseeingly, forward. The one thought that repeated itself, again and again in her mind was the one shaped in these words: “He could have loved me if he were only free!” It was a thought far more dangerous to her peace of mind than if she had felt assured that he could never have felt more than in a friendly way. Pride would have aided her then; now the look into her future was dreary, indeed; it seemed to her that she could not face it. ; From the first moment of her seeing Vance Rothesay he had been to her like the hero of those very vague dreams that come to almost every girl; and she struggled with that feeling un- til, at times, she imagined she had conquered it. If he had gone away without notic- ing her, she knew that she could soon- er have conquered a peace with her- self; but now— In vain, she told her- self that his tone and glance might mean nothing but a moment’s feeling that he would instantly forget. It was not conceit or self-love that told her he had felt as deeply as he seemed to do. She could read his heart, and she read there what made him love her still more deeply and what enhanced her despair. She saw herself going down the path of life alone, always with that one love in her heart. She longed for him to go; and she looked upon his departure as the shutting out of the light of her life. Time flew on relentlessly as she sat there, struggling to attune herself to at least a decent bearing of the fate laid upon her. She knew that she must go back to the house; that she must prepare the dinner; that she must so school her face and voice that no one, least of all Rothesay, should know her mood was otherr than what it had been a month ago. The time had come in which her strength was to be tested. After a time she rose to her feet and slowly fastened on her hat, finding that her fingers were cold and stiff, though she had been sitting in the full glare of the sun. She moved forward over the sands as if there was a weight upon her. “Of course,” she said to herself, with a wan smile—“of course, I shall get somewhat accustomed to this, as the galley-slave gets used to his chain. Iam not going to be like the women I have heard of, who have been ‘crossed in love.’ No; I shall settle down some of these years ,and be a comfortable old maid. It need not kill me that I have missed the dearest thing in life. I shall find other things, other hopes, and I must make the best of them.” Though she told herself she was looking at her fate in a philosophical way, yet she found that she could not yet lighten the load upon her. When she reached the house she found that it was already after noon, and her father, who had been out fish- ing for the,first time in several weeks, had returned and was waiting impa- tiently for his dinner. “Where in the world have you been, Kate?” he asked, almost fretfully, as she entered. “I hope you haven't tak- en to gadding. I’m hungry as a bear. Fry those perch as soon as you can. Mr. Rothesay must be half-starved, as this is his first day down stairs.” Mr. Rothesay disclaimed any partic- ular hunger, and Kate hastened to make a fire and put on the fish. She was only too thankful that her father did not notice some difference in her looks. And by the time the dinner was served, the bending over the stove had flushed her face so that it had more than its usual] color. (To be Continued.> WOMAN’S NEW BENEFACTOR. James Buckham Says Housework Is Not Specially Beneficial. A new benefactor of women has aris- en, Mr. James Buckham, who, in the American Kitchen Magazine, refutes the popular theory that housework is physically beneficial to the sex that usually performs it. Almost no wo- man knows how to sweep properly; sweeping tends to make the sweeper one-sided. Men, it seems, know how to sweep without raising a dust, and have stronger backs. Washing, ‘scrub- bing and all the heavy work of the household is detrimental to the good looks and strength of the women who undertake such tasks. The conelusicn seems to be that men are the natural toilers in the home as outside, and that women will cease to be a drudge. There is‘also an implication of wo- manly weakness and failure here, but we will not stop to point it out.—Cella P. Woolley, in the Pilgrim. DIDN’T WANT A VICTORIA. One of Marshall. P. Wilder's Exceed- ingly Funny Anecdotes. Although the characteristic wit and humor of every race is made exceed- ingly funny in Marshall P. Wilder's telling, the little humorist shines par- ticularly when he relates an Irish yarn. “It was the 17th of March last,” says Wilder, “and a certain Irishman ex- pressed the intention of riding in style in the annual parade. When he, en- deavored to secure a carriage, howev- er, he was informed that everything was gone. “Hold on a minute, though,” said thd proprietor of the livery stable. “I think I can let you have a victoria.” “*You do, do ye?’ answered the Celt, savagely. ‘Will, I think not!’ “And the proprietor could not un- derstand why the Irishman walked an- grily away.”—New York Times. A SPECULATION IN APPLES. How One Clever Dago Made Misfor- tune Profitable—Got $10. “Don’t talk to me about the down- trodden Dago,” said a patrolman who was on post on Dey street, where the pusheart peddlers abound. “I rescued one of them half a dozen times from being run down by wagons, and finally warned him that he would have his pushcart wrecked if he were not more careful. “Si gooda,’ the Dago replied, show- ing his teeth and grinning. “I believe you want to be run down,’ IT exclaimed. : “Si,” replied the Dago. ‘Me hava four dolla da apples. Biga da wagon smasha da pushcart. Da boys geta da apples. Da man he pays me da ten dolla.” “And the Dago rubbed his hands in enjoyment of the anticipated profit.”— New York Times. His Name Was O'Reilly. In some country districts of Ireland it is not unusual to see the owners’ names simply chalked on carts and other vehicles, in order to comply with legal regulations. It is related by an exchange that a policeman accosted a countryman, whose name had been wiped out unknown to him by a mis- chievous boy. “Ts that cart yours, my good man?” “Av coorse it is,” was the reply; “do you see anything the matter wid it?” “I observe,” said the pompous police- man, “that the name is o-blitherated,” “Then, ye’re wrong,” quoth the coun- tryman, who had never come across the long dictionary word before, “for me name’s O’Reilly an’ I don’t care who knows it!”—New York Mail and Express. Pie Filled With Live Birds. The new governor of British Gui- ana, Sir James Swettenham is a man of original ideas. He gave a ball the other day ,and at supper an enormous pie was placed in front of him. When he cut the crust, two and twenty little birds hopped out and flew about the room. Their feathers had been paint- ed in brilliant colors. At first it was thought that the idea was to illustrate a well known nursery rhyme ,but it seems that this sort of bird pie is a popular custom in the Malay states, where Sir‘ James comes from. The birds are caught and passed around among the guests fortune being sup- posed to smile upon all who handle them.—Kingston Cor. Nashville Ban- ner. Baby’s Yell Utiliezd. Mrs. Minnismith—Oh, Bertram, to- day the baby said “goo. goo, um, bah, bah, boo,” Mr. Minnismth—I’m awfully glad to hear that. Mrs. Minnismith—How proud we can feel! Mr. Minnismith—Yes; it will make a good yell for our factor’s football team.—New York Times. As Bad. His Wife—But can they prove that you have been dishonest? The Culprit—No th.ey can’t; but I shalk have to pay a lawyer all I have stolen to convince them that they can’t.—Cassell’s Journal. The attentlance of the Catholic schools of Chicago has increased 20,- | | forth, of St. Joseph, " womb. good health returned to me. the ie 1007 Miles Ave., St. Joseph, Mich. . duced. Here is another case:— right road to recovery. Mrs. Pinkham never violates the confidence thus entrusted to her, and although she publishes thousands of testimonials from women who have been benefited by -her advice and medicine, never in all her experience has she published such a letter without the full consent, and often by special request of the writer. FEIT if we cannot forthwith produce the original letters and signatures of ORE onials, which will prove thelr absolute genuineness. Lydia E, Pinkham ‘Medicine Co., FOR $5000 A prominent club woman, Mrs. Dan- was cured of falling of the womb and its accompanying pains and. misery by Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound. “Dear Mrs. Prvxuam:—Life looks dark indeed when a woman feels that her strength is fading away and she has no hopes of ever being restored. Such was my feeling a few months ago when I was advised that my poor health was caused by prolapeus or falling of the ‘The words sounded like a knell to me, set; but Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound came to me as an elixir of 1ife; it restored the lost forces and built me up until my ¢ For four months I took the medicine ‘ daily and each dose added health and strength. I am so thankful for I obtained through its use.”— Mrs. Frorence Danrorty, A medicine that has restored so many women to health and " can produce proof of the fact must be regarded with respect. This ° is the record of Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound, which cannot be equailed by any other medicine the world has ever pro- “Dear Mrs. Prrxnam:— For years I was troubled with falling of the womb, irregular and painful menstruation, leucorrheea, bearing- down pains, backache, fainting spells, and stomach trouble. i “I doctored for about ftve years but did @} not seem to improve. I began the use of your medicine, and Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound, three of Blood Purifier, and also used the * Sanative Wash and Liver Pills, and am now enjoying good health, and have gained in flesh. I thank you very much for what you re have done for me, and heartily recom- Zee mend your medicine to all suffering women.” — Miss Esmra Snyper, 218 Center St., Marion, Ohio. “FREE MEDICAL ADVICE TO WOMEN.” 4 Women would save time and much sickness if they would ‘write to Mrs. Pinkham for advice as soon as any distressing symp- toms appear. It is free, and has put thousands of women on the ] Mich., tells how she _ felt that my sun had eadache, dizzy and ave taken seven bottles of ne oo ast » Lynn, Mass. ‘HE DID NOT PASS. Man Who Had Never Been Known to Buy Drinks. Col. George A. Price says that while he was civil service commissioner of Brooklyn, he discovered, upon examin: ing a paper of an applicant for a post- tion, that the character of the appli- cant had been certified to by a friend who, opposite the line: “Does he use intoxicating liquors—if so, to what ex- tent?” had written this answer: “I have known him for eight or ten years; he always takes a drink when- ever he is asked; but I have never known him to buy a drink on more than two occasions in that time.” The paper was marked zero.—New York Sua. Things and Things. Troubles never come singly. Whoev- er received one bad new, or had one delirium tremen, or took a course in one mathematic? When a man considers himself hat d without reason he usually starts in to make some reason why he should be hated. Some people are so small that if they ever found themselves in tight places they’d fall through.—Cassell’s Journal. The March of Science. Oolittle, Ind., January 12th—That Oolittle is right abreast of the times in the use of the most recent discover- ies in Medical Science is shown by recent cases in which those dreaded Kidney Complaints that cause so many deaths have been completely cured by the new Remedy, Dodd’s | Kidney Pills. Many people in this neighborhood tell of aches relieve dand pains de- parted because of the use of Dodd’s Kidney Pills. One of these is W. A. Terry, the well known Grocer. Here is his story: “I suffered for four months with Kidney and Bladder Trouble and was so bad that I was almost confined to my bed. I could get no relief until I commenced using -Dodd’s Kidney Pills. “I could notice an improvement the second day I took the pills. I would recommend Dodd’s Kidney Pills to all sufferers from Kidney Complaints.” A syndicate has been formed at Os- chenfurt, Bavaria, to apply electricity to agriculture. Mrs, Winslow's Soothing Syrup.’ For children teething, softens the gums, reduces Jammation, sllays .. cures wind colic. 25¢ a bottle. And fools who came to scoff re main’d to pray.—Goldsmith. Dues. ‘Wigg—I feel that Borrowell owes me an apology. Wagg—I wish that was all he owed me.—Philadelphia Ledger. In Winter Use Allen’s Foot-Ease. , A powder. Your feet feel uncomfort- able, nervous and often cold and damp. If you have sweating, sore feet or tight shoes, try Allen’s Foot-Ease. Sold by all druggists and shoe stores, 25 cents. Samples sent free. Address Allen 8. Olmsted, Le Roy, N. Y. Swelled head is harder to cure than cancer. Piso’s Cure is the best medicine we ever used for all affections of the throat and lungs.—Wx. O. Expsey, Vanburen. Ind., Feb. 10, 1900. Learning from our mistakes is wis- dom. CERMAN HOFF’S uintmenr THE QUICK CLEAN CURE i For Cold in the Head oron the Lungs, Bronchitis, Sore Throat or Quinsy. At druggists, %e and 60c, Goodrich & Jennings, Anoka, Minn. t tices: PAE A eae pa ae th ae Send as a copy of aid to your static Your Diti’and letus de Windmilis, eascee BECKMAN BROS., Des Moines, lowa. Hiore eyes use Thompson's Eye Water When Answering Acvertisements Windlg Mention This Paper.